Author: Momo Chan

I chased my husband for ten years. In the end, it was my six-year-old daughter who taught me to let go. That evening at dinner, I tried talking to Ethan again. “Ethan, want to take Daisy to the park on Saturday?” He didn’t look up. I was about to ask again. Daisy suddenly cut me off: “Mom, Dad doesn’t want to talk to you. Can’t you see that?” After Daisy finished dinner, I gave her a bath, told her two stories, and got her to sleep. When I returned to the bedroom, Ethan was leaning against the headboard scrolling through his phone. The blue light from the screen lit up his face. He didn’t even lift his eyelids. In the past, I would’ve sat next to him and carefully ventured, “Ethan, can we talk?” Then I’d get a “Talk about what?” After that, I’d ramble on for ages while he’d say “Mm-hmm,” roll over, and go to sleep. And then I’d be left staring at his back, tears soaking into my pillow. Tonight I didn’t sit down next to him. I grabbed a blanket and went to the study. The folding bed in the study was something I bought last year. At the time, I thought it could be a place to cool off if we ever fought. But later I realized Ethan and I couldn’t even fight. Fighting requires two people. He never engaged. I lay on the folding bed, staring at the ceiling. My phone lit up. A message from my mom: Did my baby have a good day? I replied: Pretty good. For the past ten years, my reply to my mom was always “pretty good.” The messages I sent Ethan were always paragraphs upon paragraphs. He wouldn’t reply. So I’d send another paragraph. He still wouldn’t reply. So I’d call. He’d hang up, so I’d wait by the door when he got off work. My friends said I was too clingy. He said I was too needy. I thought maybe I had a problem too. Chasing someone for ten years—how pathetic could you get? But what Daisy said today was like someone striking a bell next to my ear. A ringing sound, and something shattered. Not heartbreak. It was the shell of some obsession finally cracking. That night, I slept surprisingly well. No dreams, no tears, no waking up in the middle of the night to check if he’d replied. The next morning when my alarm went off, I actually froze for a second. Turns out you can sleep when you’re not waiting for someone to text back. The next day was Wednesday. Every weekday morning before, I’d make breakfast for Ethan and set it on the table. He never said thank you. Occasionally he’d eat it. More often, he’d grab a coffee and leave. Today I only made breakfast for Daisy, then knelt down to braid her hair. When Ethan came out, he glanced at the table. He said nothing. He grabbed a carton of milk from the fridge, picked up his briefcase, and left. The sound of the door closing was identical to every one of the past two thousand days. But for the first time, I didn’t rush after him to say “Drive safe.” Daisy looked up at me. “Mom, you didn’t say goodbye to Dad today.” I smiled and pinched her cheek. “Did Daisy say goodbye to Dad?” She shook her head. “Dad walked away too fast.” Yeah. He always walked away fast. And I’d been chasing for ten years without ever catching up once.

Ethan and I were college classmates. He wasn’t the most handsome guy, but he was clean-cut, quiet, and looked really cool when he focused during basketball games. Every girl in the Literature department knew Madison was chasing Ethan. He’d say, “You shouldn’t wait. It’s too late, it’s not safe.” I’d say, “It’s fine, I don’t have anything else to do anyway.” In the winter of our senior year, he finally agreed to date me. That day I cried in my rental apartment for an hour. Happy tears. Later I gradually realized he didn’t say yes because he was touched. He said yes because “there wasn’t anyone more suitable anyway.” His mother said it once. I heard it with my own ears. “Ethan’s been like this since he was little—never takes initiative. You chased him so persistently back then, so he just said yes.” She said it casually, like it was the most ordinary thing. I stood in the kitchen doorway holding a plate of freshly cut fruit, my fingers gripping the edge of the plate. The first year of marriage was okay. Though he didn’t talk much, at least on weekends he’d take walks with me. When I said I wanted to see a movie, he’d complain it was a hassle but still go. The turning point came after Daisy was born. During postpartum recovery, I took care of the baby alone. He was always working overtime, on business trips, at dinners—there was always a reason not to be home. I’d be up all night breastfeeding until I broke down, and when I called him, he’d say, “Daisy has you, doesn’t she?” I asked if he could come home earlier. He said, “Can you stop being like this? I’m tired too, you know.” “Like this”—what did he mean by that? He walked out of the bedroom and glanced at me. “What now?” I said, “Can you just hold me?” He sighed, turned around, and went back to the bedroom. The door clicked shut. That was the first time I felt that what separated us wasn’t just a door. It was thousands of miles. But back then, I didn’t stop. I kept chasing, kept messaging, kept waiting. I thought if I just tried a little harder, he’d turn around and look at me. Ten years. I chased for a full ten years. Chased until I didn’t even recognize myself anymore. In college, I ranked first in my major. My graduation project won honors, and my advisor recommended me to a design firm. I didn’t go. Because Ethan had signed with a company in this city. I thought being together was most important. Later when Daisy was born, I quit my job to be a stay-at-home mom. Ethan said, “It’s better if you stay home anyway. Saves us from hiring a nanny.” That design firm later grew big and won several industry awards. Occasionally I’d see their work on social media and stop to look for a long time. Then I’d lock my screen and go back to washing baby bottles.

The change happened little by little. The first week after I stopped chasing Ethan, I felt a bit out of sorts. My hand would instinctively reach for my phone, wanting to open SnapChat to see if he’d replied. Then I’d remember—I hadn’t sent any messages. I didn’t send any, so naturally there was nothing to wait for. It was a strange feeling. Like a person who’d been running for ten years suddenly hitting the brakes. Inertia kept you moving forward, but your feet had already stopped. On the third day, I made a decision. On my way home from work, instead of going straight home, I turned down a street I’d never taken before. At the end of the street was a gym, orange light spilling through the glass doors. I stood at the entrance for thirty seconds, then pushed the door open. The receptionist asked if I wanted a trial class. “I’ll take an annual membership.” Three thousand six hundred dollars. My hand didn’t even shake when I swiped the card. This was the first time I’d spent a significant amount of money on myself without messaging Ethan to say “I got a gym membership.” Before, if I spent more than two hundred dollars, I’d tell him proactively, like I was reporting to him. His reaction was always the same: “Okay, if it makes you happy.” Now I stopped reporting. On the fifth day, I pulled out that gray canvas bag from the corner. Inside were my college sketches, design drafts, and that offer letter from the design firm. The offer was long expired, of course, but the drafts remained. When I opened the first page, I caught the smell of old paper. Daisy came over to look. “Did you draw this, Mom? It’s so pretty!” “Yeah, Mom used to draw.” “Used to? Can’t you draw anymore?” I looked at her earnest little face. “I still can. I just haven’t drawn in a long time.” That night after Daisy fell asleep, I cleared off the dining table, spread out paper, and drew. My hand was rusty. The lines weren’t as clean as before. But when I finished the last stroke, something inside me loosened. Like a pipe that had been clogged for ages finally dripping out a drop of water. During those two weeks, Ethan didn’t notice a thing. I stopped messaging him—he didn’t ask “Why aren’t you messaging me anymore?” I stopped calling—he didn’t call to ask “Why haven’t you been calling lately?” I stopped waiting by the door—he’d come home, change shoes, eat, scroll his phone, sleep. Everything as usual. Turned out my presence meant so little. So little that I could disappear and he wouldn’t even notice. Before, I thought that was pathetic. Now I thought—that’s fine. It meant that me not chasing him didn’t affect him at all. So what was the point of chasing him for ten years? The point was: there was no point. Those four words hurt more than any time he’d hung up on me. But after the pain came a strange kind of relief. My friend Sarah asked me to dinner. She was the only college friend I’d stayed in touch with over the years. After we sat down and ordered, she spoke first. “You look better lately.” “Do I?” “Yeah. Before, your first sentence to me was always ‘He didn’t reply to my messages again.’ Today you didn’t mention it.” I smiled slightly. “I stopped chasing.” Sarah’s hand froze mid-reach for her food. “What did you say?” “I said I’m not chasing Ethan anymore.” She put down her fork and looked at me carefully for five seconds. Then she did something. She applauded. Right there in the steakhouse, with the neighboring tables looking over, she clapped three times loudly.. “Madison, that’s the clearest thing you’ve said in ten years.” Her clapping left me a bit dazed, and also wanting to cry. But I held it in.

The third week, Ethan’s mother, Helen, came over. Helen visited two or three times a year, staying about a week each time. She wasn’t a bad person, but she had a talent for saying the most hurtful things in the most casual tone. The evening she arrived, she scanned the living room. “Madison dear, why haven’t you been tidying up the house lately? Didn’t you used to keep everything spotless?” Before, whenever she visited, I’d do a deep clean three days in advance. I’d scrub the kitchen until it gleamed, fold towels by color, even sort Daisy’s toys into storage bins. This time I didn’t. Not on purpose. It was because after work I went to the gym, then came home and drew for a while. There wasn’t enough time. “Been busy lately,” I said. Helen didn’t respond, but I noticed her glance at Ethan. I knew that look well. Translated: “Look at your wife, getting more and more out of line.” This time Ethan actually spoke up. “Mom, it’s fine. The house is pretty clean.” Helen smiled. “I didn’t say anything.” The next day, while Ethan was out, Helen cornered me in the kitchen. “Madison dear, is there some conflict between you and Ethan?” “No.” “Then why aren’t you talking to him anymore? You used to chat with him constantly.” My knife kept moving through the vegetables. “Helen, you said it yourself before. You said I was too clingy, that men need space.” Helen’s smile froze for a second. “I said that for your own good. Between husband and wife, women shouldn’t be too forward. You need to be a bit reserved.” I dumped the cut vegetables into a bowl. “See, now I’m being reserved.” Helen looked at me for a while. “Why are you talking like this, child? So passive-aggressive.” “I’m not being passive-aggressive, Helen. I’m really learning to be reserved.” Her mouth moved, but she didn’t say anything more. As I turned to wash the knife, I heard her mutter under her breath. “Getting more and more disrespectful.” Before, hearing that would’ve made me panic, made me reflect on what I’d done wrong. Now I just wanted to laugh. “Disrespectful” meant: not easy to control anymore. Helen left after five days. Before leaving, she called Ethan out to the balcony for a fifteen-minute conversation. I stayed in the living room coloring with Daisy. I couldn’t hear what they said. But when Ethan came back in, his expression was complicated. He stood next to me, like he wanted to say something. I didn’t look up. He stood there for several seconds, then left. That night, he asked me a question on his own initiative. “Have you been angry at me lately?” I was in the study drawing. I didn’t look up. “No.” “Then why won’t you talk to me anymore?” I stopped my pen. This question was really something. I’d chased him for ten years, saying dozens of sentences every day. He found me annoying. I’d been quiet for three weeks, and now he was asking. “I’m not refusing to talk to you.” I kept drawing. “I just realized there’s nothing much to say.” He froze. That sentence was too familiar. Because over the past ten years, he’d said it to me at least a hundred times. He probably remembered too, because his expression changed. But he didn’t say anything more. He turned and left. Just like his past thousand turns and departures. Only this time, the person left standing wasn’t me.

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My husband died unexpectedly, and I discovered a transfer record of 19 million dollars to his mistress on his backup phone. Seven years of marriage, and I couldn’t even bring myself to buy clothes over a hundred dollars. I never imagined he’d be so generous with his mistress! At the funeral, his mistress showed up with her son, demanding to inherit all of my husband’s estate. My mother-in-law Nancy mocked me for being unable to have children and told me to get lost. The relatives watched coldly from the sidelines. Until seven days after my husband’s death, when the lawyer I hired arrived. Millions in debt plus a mistress’s bastard child—Nancy, you better catch this blessing real tight! The day Liam Walker was buried, Seaside City was hit with a rare torrential downpour. But I couldn’t feel the cold, because my heart had already died three days ago. I knelt on the prayer cushion in the center of the funeral hall, head bowed, mechanically tossing paper money into the brazier in front of me. The flames licked at the yellow paper, instantly turning it to ash. Just like my seven years of youth—fed to the dogs without even hearing a sound. “You cursed woman! How dare you kneel here!” A shrill curse tore through the funeral. A hand struck the back of my head with such force that I lurched forward, nearly falling to the ground. I scrambled to brace myself against the floor. Before I could turn around, Nancy’s twisted face was already in mine. “If it wasn’t for you, you husband-killing jinx, I’d be holding Hudson by now! Liam was in his prime earning years—how did he end up with a cursed wife like you! I can’t go on! My son…” Nancy plopped down on the floor, slapping her thighs and wailing. Her cries rose and fell in theatrical waves—part venting, part performance for the surrounding relatives. The room was packed with the Walker family relatives. “That Evelyn Hart is cursed, that’s for sure. Seven years of marriage, can’t have children, and got her husband killed.” “Exactly. I heard the day Liam had that car accident, he was supposed to close a multi-million dollar deal.” “Such misfortune. What sins did the Walker family commit?” I listened to these whispers, clenching my fists. In the past, I would have explained, felt wronged, begged Nancy for forgiveness. But today, I didn’t say a word. I just raised my head woodenly and looked at the black and white photo hanging above the funeral hall. In the photo, Liam wore that smile I knew so well—seemingly honest but actually calculating. Liam, can you hear this? Your mother is cursing me, your relatives are mocking me. Underground, you must be laughing happily, right? After all, you’ve wanted to get rid of this old woman for a long time, haven’t you? My hand unconsciously reached for my pocket, where a phone with a cracked screen was tucked away. That was Liam’s belongings. Liam had rear-ended a semi-truck on the highway and died instantly. When the traffic police notified me to identify the body and collect his belongings, I was completely numb. Among those blood-stained items, I took back this phone of his. This wasn’t the one he usually brought home, but his so-called work phone. If I ever glanced at this phone before, he’d fly into a rage, shouting: “Evelyn, don’t you know the rules? This has confidential business information! If tens of millions in client data gets leaked, can you afford to pay for it?” Back then I was foolish enough to believe him. I thought he was a man doing big things, and as a supportive wife, I couldn’t cause trouble for him. I brought that blood-stained phone home and plugged it into the charger. The moment the screen lit up, I saw the wallpaper— A photo of him on a yacht with his arm around a woman’s waist, showing only their backs. Though I couldn’t see her face, the woman had a killer figure, wearing a bikini, her skin glowing white. My hands started trembling. The password lock blocked me.

I tried my birthday. Wrong. Our wedding anniversary. Wrong. Nancy’s birthday. Wrong. I even tried his favorite athlete’s jersey number. Still wrong. One last chance—the phone warned that another wrong entry would lock it. On a whim, I remembered seven years ago when we first started dating, after getting drunk once, he’d called out a name: “Susan.” That was his first love, the campus beauty in college. I heard she later married a rich guy and moved abroad. With trembling fingers, I entered that date I had secretly written in my diary and considered taboo—that woman’s birthday. “Click.” The screen unlocked. In that instant, my heart went half cold, but it hadn’t completely died. Maybe it was just a coincidence? Maybe he just couldn’t forget his old flame? But the moment I opened his messages, all my illusions were shattered. I remembered how Liam used to say I was vulgar, that I didn’t understand romance. Turns out, he saved all his romance for someone else. I opened the conversation. It was filled with explicit messages, and even many nude photos. The most recent message was from half an hour before the accident. Liam: “Baby, the final step is done. The money’s already transferred to you. We can take this money and live happily ever after. That old hag is still at home making me dinner, haha.” The other person replied: “You’re amazing! Once you get to the airport we’ll meet up. Did you buy the tickets?” Liam: “Bought them, leaving tonight. I’ve already cooked the company books, they won’t find any loopholes. By the time Evelyn figures it out, we’ll already be sunbathing in Vancouver.” My breathing became rapid, my chest felt like it had been struck by a sledgehammer. That’s right—that afternoon I was in the kitchen making his favorite borscht. To save two dollars, I’d even gone to three different markets to buy beef. Turns out in his eyes, I was just an idiot. My fingers scrolled up stiffly until I saw that transfer record. Transfer to: Susan Amount: Nineteen million dollars. I suddenly wanted to laugh. I laughed until tears came out. Liam ran a building materials business. Everyone said business had been tough these past two years. Every month when I asked him for five thousand dollars for living expenses, he’d haggle with me endlessly, saying the company’s cash flow was tight, telling me to be frugal. To save money, I hadn’t bought new clothes in two years. My skincare products were discounted Pond’s from the supermarket. Last month my mom needed heart bypass surgery, urgently needing fifty thousand dollars for the operation. I begged him, almost got on my knees. What did he say then? He frowned, looking impatient as he pushed me away: “Evelyn, it’s not that I won’t help, there’s really no money. The company’s accounts are all tied up, can’t touch it. Figure it out yourself. Why don’t you sell that gold bracelet?” That gold bracelet was a keepsake my grandmother left me. To save my mom, I sold it. And he turned around and gave this woman named Susan nineteen million dollars! Nineteen million! That was our marital property! That was the fortune I helped him build sleeping in basements, eating instant noodles, even drinking until I had stomach bleeding just to help him with business entertainment! He not only betrayed our marriage, he was going to run off with all the money and throw me away like garbage! That night, I didn’t cry out loud. I sat on the cold floor and backed up all the chat records, transfer receipts, and those disgusting photos from the phone to my cloud storage. I looked at myself in the mirror—that sallow-faced woman with fine lines at the corners of her eyes. Evelyn, you shouldn’t cry. If you cry now, you’ve truly lost. Since Liam wanted to scheme against me even in death, I’ll make sure he can’t rest in peace even as a ghost! “Hey! What are you spacing out for!” My husband’s brother, Marcus Walker, kicked me roughly, jolting me out of my memories. He had a cigarette dangling from his mouth, looking completely slovenly—the kind of hoodlum Nancy had spoiled since childhood. “Evelyn, now that Liam’s gone, shouldn’t you settle the funeral expenses? Also, the crematorium people are pressing for the cremation fee.”

Marcus blew out a smoke ring, his eyes full of calculation. I kept my head down, my voice hoarse: “I don’t have any money on me. Liam left so suddenly, all the cards were on him.” “Bullshit!” Nancy stopped her wailing and sprang up from the floor with the agility of someone far younger than sixty. “You’ve been managing the household all these years, how could you not have savings? Let me tell you, Evelyn, Liam’s death benefits, insurance compensation—that’s all for my retirement! And this house, Liam bought it, what does it have to do with you?” I looked at this mother and son, sneering inwardly. “Nancy,” I slowly raised my head, my eyes eerily calm, “this house was bought after marriage, and my name is on the deed. According to the law, I’m the first heir.” “Bah!” Nancy spat a glob of phlegm near my feet. “What law? In the Walker family, I AM the law! The surrounding relatives started chiming in: “That’s right, Evelyn, you have to have a conscience. Liam worked himself to death for this family.” “If you have any shame left, give the house to Marcus. Marcus isn’t married yet, he needs a house.” “I bet she just wants to take the money and find another man! Women like this are heartless!” Listen to these high and mighty justifications. In the past, for the sake of so-called family harmony, for Liam’s reputation, I might have swallowed my anger. I might have even taken out money to prove my innocence. But now, looking at these greedy faces, I only found it laughable. They want money? Want the house? Fine. If they knew that Liam left behind not just a house, but a huge surprise, I wonder if they’d still be so eager. I took a deep breath, about to speak, when suddenly there was a commotion at the entrance. The previously noisy funeral suddenly fell silent, with only the sound of rain still pattering outside. “Who’s that? Driving such a nice car?” “That car must cost several hundred thousand, right?” I followed everyone’s gaze. Through the rain, a black Maybach slowly pulled up to the funeral home entrance. The car door opened, and a black umbrella unfurled. First to emerge was a foot in red-soled high heels, a slender ankle visible beneath a black hem. Then, a woman stepped out. She wore a perfectly tailored haute couture black mourning dress, oversized sunglasses, skin blindingly white, lips like scarlet flames. She wasn’t carrying any offerings, but held the hand of a young boy. The boy was about four or five years old, wearing a little black suit, chubby-cheeked, holding a Transformer toy. The woman closed her umbrella, removed her sunglasses, revealing a refined but slightly haggard face. She surveyed the funeral, her gaze finally landing on me. In that moment, I recognized her. Susan. The woman who took the nineteen million dollars. My heart raced, not with fear, but with unprecedented excitement. The show was finally beginning. Nancy froze. Marcus’s eyes went wide. Susan walked to the portrait, ignoring everyone else, and elegantly bowed three times. Then, she gently nudged the little boy beside her. “Go present flowers to Daddy.”

Nancy looked like she’d been struck by lightning. Her mouth hung open, her murky eyes fixed on the little boy. “Daddy?” Nancy’s voice trembled. “What… what did you just say? Who did this child call Daddy?” Susan turned around, her face showing a pitiful yet strong expression. She pulled a tissue from her bag and gently dabbed at the corners of her eyes where no tears actually existed. “Nancy,” Susan’s voice was soft and pleasant, with a hint of grievance, “I’m Susan. This is Hudson. He’s Liam’s only flesh and blood.” The room erupted. “Oh my God! Liam had a son outside?” “I knew it. A man as outstanding as Liam couldn’t really be childless.” “This child looks just like Liam! Look at that nose, those eyebrows!” Nancy was trembling with excitement. She pushed me aside and stumbled over, wanting to hold the child. Nancy held Hudson, crying even louder than when her son died, except this time they were tears of joy. Marcus snapped out of it too, immediately changing his attitude, fawning over them: “Oh my, so this is my little nephew? So sturdy! I’m Uncle Marcus!” I remained kneeling in place, watching this touching drama like an outsider. After Susan calmed Nancy down, she turned to look down at me. Her eyes held no guilt toward the legal wife, only the arrogance and provocation of a victor. “You must be Evelyn?” Susan spoke, her voice not loud but enough for everyone to hear. “Evelyn, I’m sorry we hid this from you for so long. Liam was afraid of hurting you and never dared tell you. I came today for one reason only—to let Hudson present flowers to his father, and also… to take back what belongs to Hudson.” I slowly stood up, dusting off my knees. The prolonged kneeling had made my legs numb, but I stood straight. I looked at Susan, the woman who spent my husband’s nineteen million dollars, slept with my husband, and now wanted to take my property. “Miss Susan,” my voice was calm, even carrying a hint of a smile, “are you sure you want to take back what belongs to this child?”

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After Alpha Ethan cheated on me, I was so furious I filed for divorce immediately. Ethan chased after me for half a year, swearing he’d never see Ivy again. Only then did I finally agree to remarry him. On our one-year remarriage anniversary, I brought a gift to the bar he frequented, wanting to surprise him. Instead, I accidentally caught him kissing Ivy. His friend asked him: “If you love Ivy, why did you remarry Ava?” Ethan answered with a laugh: “I promised Ivy I’d find her a prank target. Ava, being wolfless, is the perfect choice, isn’t she?” I endured the immense physical and emotional pain without rushing out to make a scene. Instead, I planned to fake my death. Ethan Miller, this time I’m truly done with you. “Ms. Summers, your death staging package is now active. Everything will proceed according to plan in seven days.” Hearing the voice of the death staging agency employee on the phone, I let out a long breath. In seven days, I would disappear completely from Ethan Miller’s world. After hanging up, I circled the date seven days from now on the calendar in red. The vivid red seemed to mock my foolishness over the past year and a half. Ethan Miller came back carrying an insulated bag while I was still staring at the calendar in a daze. He set down the bag and, as always, wrapped me in his arms, asking gently: “What are you doing? You seem so lost in thought.” Feeling the warm chest behind me, bitterness welled up in my heart. Five years of marriage and one year of remarriage, and I never knew Ethan Miller was such a good actor. So good that I thought he’d truly let go of Ivy and had a change of heart. So good that I believed he truly couldn’t live without me, which was why he pursued me relentlessly for half a year after our divorce, insisting on remarrying. I shook my head. “Nothing. Just thinking about some things.” His gaze fell on the circled date on the calendar: “Is seven days from now some important day?” “Yes.” I suppressed the bitterness in my heart and said meaningfully, “That day I’ll give you a surprise.” Ethan stroked my hair affectionately. “Then I’ll look forward to it.” “But forget about seven days from now for now, honey. Do you remember what day today is? Today’s our one-year remarriage anniversary. I personally mixed you an anniversary special drink. Come taste it.” Looking at the strangely colored drink he brought out, my heart couldn’t help but tremble. I remembered at the bar party today, someone had asked Ivy with a laugh what prank she planned to pull on me today. She mixed various spirits, hot sauce, bitters, and some silver together, saying with a smile: “I’m in a good mood today, so I’ll let Ava off easy. I’ll just livestream her drinking this ‘Hell’s Special’ and call it even.” I never expected Ethan would actually bring this thing back and lie to me, calling it an anniversary drink. He clearly knew I didn’t have my own wolf and my body was weak. Silver, which had no effect on powerful werewolves, could kill me. A sharp pain pierced through my heart. After a long moment, I managed to say in a trembling voice: “I don’t feel well today. I don’t want to drink alcohol.” Hearing this, the smile on Ethan’s face faded considerably: “Why are you unwell again?” “Avy, this is my heartfelt gift after all. Just take one sip, then I’ll make you some calming tea, okay?” He brought the glass to my lips. I looked into his eyes, trying to find a trace of guilt about deceiving me. But there was none. His eyes were sincere, as if he truly just didn’t want me to reject his gesture. Suppressing the sharp pain in my heart, I nodded slightly. “Okay, I’ll drink it.” The harsh liquid slid down my throat, bringing a burning and nauseating sensation. I knew the camera hidden somewhere had already recorded my ugly expression drinking this thing. On the other end of the livestream, Ivy must be laughing triumphantly right now. Ethan set down the glass with satisfaction and went to brew tea. Watching his figure enter the kitchen, a chill rose in my heart. Ethan used to be nervous for so long even when I got cut by a knife. Yet to amuse Ivy, he didn’t hesitate to make me drink this dangerous liquor. He truly had no love left for me at all. I didn’t get to drink the tea Ethan brewed before I was sent to the hospital due to silver poisoning. In my hazy consciousness, I heard someone gently coaxing me: “Avy, don’t be afraid. The pain will stop soon.” I couldn’t tell if I was dreaming. Only after waking up did I see Ethan sleeping with his head on the hospital bed. His face was full of exhaustion. He must have been taking care of me for a long time. His phone beside his hand kept vibrating. I picked it up and opened it to see Ethan’s friends posting in a group chat: “Ava’s expression drinking that ‘Hell’s Special’ today was priceless. I saved the GIF!” “Yeah, but why was Ethan in such a hurry to send Ava to the hospital? Don’t tell me he felt bad for her?” Ethan replied below: “Stop joking. It wouldn’t look good if Ivy saw.” “I’m just playing the part. If I don’t comfort her properly this time, how can I keep tricking her into cooperating next time?” So it was all an act again. I gave a bitter smile and put the phone back in its place. Ethan soon woke up. Seeing I was fine, he breathed a sigh of relief: “I’m sorry, Avy. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have made you drink that alcohol.” I didn’t speak, just looked at him quietly. He seemed uncomfortable under my gaze and soon stood up with his coat: “There’s something at the company. I need to go handle it. I’ll come see you later.” The moment the door closed, I shut my eyes, and tears finally slid down uncontrollably. Ethan Miller, six more days.

I didn’t wait for Ethan Miller to come see me again. I checked myself out of the hospital first. I found a witch on the black market and stated my purpose directly: “I want to break the Mate Bond, but I can’t let him find out. Do you have a way?” After I paid enough money, she brought me a small vial of potion: “Make him drink this and the Mate Bond will be broken, but you’ll be very weak for a long time. Even the healing ability you werewolves pride yourselves on will be temporarily lost.” “How long?” “Depends on your constitution. Maybe a few weeks, maybe a few months.” She looked at me. “Are you sure?” “I’m sure.” I took the bottle and left. By the time I got home, Ethan Miller was already sitting on the sofa waiting for me. “Avy, why didn’t you wait for me to pick you up? You checked yourself out?” “Are you still upset about that drink? Forgive me, okay? To make it up to you, I’ll take you to a charity gala and buy you a gift. How about that?” My hand gripped the small bottle tightly in my pocket. I already had a plan. But Ethan took me out without giving me a choice. When we arrived, I immediately spotted Ivy in the crowd. She wore a striking red dress, and the diamond bracelet on her wrist sparkled brilliantly. Seeing my gaze land on Ivy, Ethan hastily explained: “Ava, I didn’t know Ivy would be here. I haven’t contacted her in a long time.” “If you’re unhappy, I’ll have someone escort her out right now.” I pulled at the corner of my mouth, too lazy to expose his lies. “No need.” It was just a show for me anyway. The auction segment of the gala soon began. I remained listless throughout. But Ethan Miller acted like he truly wanted to compensate me. Whenever I glanced at an item, he would immediately raise his paddle. In no time, he’d won quite a bit. People around cast envious looks, but an uneasy feeling rose in my heart. The feeling quickly came true. After the finale piece—a contemporary painting—was brought out, Ivy was the first to raise her paddle. “Two hundred thousand.” I thought Ethan Miller wouldn’t be willing to bid against Ivy, but to my surprise, he raised his paddle without hesitation: “Three hundred thousand.” Meeting my astonished gaze, he showed an affectionate smile: “You weren’t very interested in what we got before. You looked at this painting a couple extra times, so you should like it, right?” I was about to shake my head when he’d already looked away and started competing with Ivy. After an intense bidding war, Ethan Miller actually made a gesture to the auctioneer, indicating he was willing to offer an even higher unlimited price. Instantly, the entire venue erupted. The way people looked at me was no longer just envious. I felt like I was sitting on pins and needles. Turning my head, I met Ivy’s half-smiling gaze, and my heart sank. Ethan Miller ultimately won the painting. But when the gala ended and the staff came to request payment, he was nowhere to be found. Looking at the five hundred thousand dollar figure, my face went pale. I called him, but only heard the automated message that his phone was off. The staff member’s expression gradually changed, and the surrounding gazes shifted from envy to mockery. “Alpha Ethan’s Luna can’t afford to pay?” “And I thought Alpha Ethan doted on his Luna so much. Turns out it was all fake.” “Maybe this lady wanted to show off herself and dragged Alpha Ethan here, then it backfired.” The humiliating words struck me like heavy blows, making me stagger backward. The staff member’s face had completely lost its pleasantness, looking at me with a cold smile: “Luna Ava, you need to process the payment now. Otherwise, you’ll incur substantial penalty fees and it may affect your credit.” I opened my mouth, but in the end could only say hoarsely: “Fine, I’ll pay the penalty.” I hadn’t brought money, so I could only remove my necklace and bracelet, leaving my handbag as collateral before leaving in embarrassment. This incident quickly fermented online. The comments were full of mockery and abuse. Looking at those vicious words, my nails dug into my palms, but I couldn’t even cry. So this was Ethan Miller’s true purpose for bringing me here. He wanted me to become everyone’s laughingstock. When I returned home, it was already late at night. Unexpectedly, Ethan had already come back. He was sitting on the living room sofa, holding a glass of water, seemingly waiting for me. “Avy, you’re back.” He set down the glass and stood up. “About tonight, I’m very sorry. I got an urgent call and had to leave. Are you… okay?” I looked at the glass of water in front of him, then at his seemingly concerned eyes. “I’m fine.” I said quietly. “Just a bit tired. I want some water too.” “I’ll get you some.” He immediately turned toward the kitchen. Those brief few seconds. I quickly dropped the witch’s potion into his glass of water. Colorless and tasteless. He returned with a fresh glass of water and handed it to me. I took it and sipped slowly, my peripheral vision fixed intently on him. He picked up his own glass without any awareness and drank several gulps. The taut string in my heart loosened slightly, then immediately, a strong feeling of weakness suddenly struck. The witch’s side effects had begun. “What’s wrong? You look terrible.” He asked. “Just too tired.” I set down the glass, no longer looking at him. “I’ll go rest first.” I turned and walked toward the bedroom, shutting his gaze out behind the door, looking at the countdown on the calendar. Five more days.

I didn’t want to go out and show my vulnerability, facing everyone’s mocking gazes. But soon it was the annual gala for the Miller Pack Charity Foundation. As Luna, I had to attend. The gala was held at a top hotel in New York. Ethan and I had just arrived when I saw Ivy arm-in-arm with Grandma Fiona, chatting intimately about something, making the usually stern Grandma Fiona laugh heartily. That intimate manner—anyone would think they were family. I looked at them, then turned to look at Ethan Miller. I found his eyes full of tenderness, clearly moved by this warm scene. Noticing my gaze, Ethan Miller explained uncomfortably: “Ivy is an important guest Grandma invited. I couldn’t very well stop her.” “If you don’t want to see her, I’ll introduce you to a few friends later, then we can go wait in the lounge.” I didn’t speak, but Ivy walked over on her own initiative. “What a coincidence! We chose similar styles. But…” She deliberately looked me up and down, covering her mouth with a light laugh. “Red seems to suit me better, don’t you think?” I was about to walk away when Ivy stepped forward, and the half-glass of champagne in her hand “accidentally” spilled onto the front of my gown. “Oops!” Ivy exclaimed, though there wasn’t a trace of apology in her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Luna Ava. My hand slipped. Are you okay?” The surroundings instantly fell silent. Everyone was watching us. I looked at the messy wine stain on my chest, then at the poorly concealed provocative smile on her face. The anger, humiliation, and pain accumulated over many days burst through the dam of reason in this moment. Before anyone could react, I raised my hand and slapped her hard across the face. The crisp sound of the slap echoed through the ballroom. Ivy covered her face, staring in disbelief with wide eyes. Then her eyes instantly reddened. She hid behind Ethan, grabbing his arm, choking out: “Ethan, I just accidentally… she, she hit me…” “Ava!” Ethan grabbed my wrist, so hard it hurt. “What are you doing? Apologize to Ivy now!” “I should apologize?” Looking at his face full of pity for Ivy, my heart turned completely cold. “She provoked me first. She spilled wine on me!” “That’s still no reason for you to hit someone in public!” Ethan lowered his voice, his tone severe. “Look at where we are! Do you want everyone to laugh at you?” Our argument had already drawn the attention of everyone present. Grandma Fiona, accompanied by Beta Stevens, approached with an iron-dark expression. She first glanced at the pitiful-looking Ivy, then fixed her icy, piercing gaze on me. “Ava Summers, as Luna, at the Pack’s most important charity gala, you publicly assault someone. Where does that leave the Miller Pack’s dignity?” “Grandma, it was Ivy who first…” I tried to explain. “I don’t care who started it!” Grandma Fiona cut me off sharply, her gaze sweeping over me and Ivy before settling on me with disgust. “What I care about is the result! The result is that in front of New York’s social elite and all our important partners, the Miller Pack’s Luna became a madwoman who lost control and lashed out due to jealousy! You’ve brought shame to the entire Pack!” She stopped looking at me and turned to Beta Stevens: “I don’t want to see her in the car on the way back. Take her to the estate and lock her in the wine cellar to reflect properly.” Ethan’s lips moved, but he ultimately gently pushed me toward Beta Stevens, his voice so low it was almost inaudible: “Ava, stop making a scene… Go back with Stevens and cool down. I’ll come get you tomorrow.” I looked into his eyes as the last faint hope was extinguished. I was soon taken back to the estate by Beta Stevens and locked in the underground wine cellar. Darkness instantly swallowed everything. I was only wearing that thin gown that had been splashed with wine. The cold burrowed into my bones. Because of the witch’s potion side effects, I couldn’t even manage simple warming. When the cellar door opened again, Ethan’s figure appeared in the doorway. I tried to stand but found my legs numb and unresponsive, my vision going black. Ethan rushed in to support me. When his hand touched my skin, he paused: “God, you’re so cold…” He half-carried, half-supported me out of the wine cellar. After leaving that frigid hell, the warm air actually made me cough violently. My lungs and airways felt like they’d been scraped with sandpaper. That afternoon, I developed a high fever. During moments of consciousness, I looked at the darkening sky outside the window and calculated the time. Two more days. The final two days.

When I woke again, I found myself back in the familiar bedroom. Ethan Miller was keeping watch beside me. Seeing me awake, he touched my face and asked: “The doctor said your body is even weaker now, even less than the weakest Omega. You…” He didn’t finish because his phone rang. It was Ivy calling. He gave me an apologetic glance, stood up, and went out to take the call. The door wasn’t fully closed. Through the gap, I heard his voice. “Ethan, I have another new idea. That abandoned obsidian mine area at the northern state border. How about you trick Ava into going there and abandon her in the next couple days?” “Just thinking about her unable to find you in that kind of place, not daring to wander around, trapped and helpless—it seems so interesting.” Ethan Miller clearly hesitated: “Ava just came out of the wine cellar. She’s still sick. The doctor said she’s very weak. Going to that kind of place… shouldn’t we wait a bit?” Ivy immediately became unhappy: “Are you feeling bad for Ava now? I knew it. All that talk about me being your true love was a lie.” Hearing Ivy say this, Ethan Miller immediately gave in: “How could it be a lie? I’ll agree to it.” Listening to Ethan Miller’s voice, my heart felt desolate. When Ethan Miller used to love me, he’d feel bad even if I accidentally bumped into a table corner. But now, under Ivy’s arrangement, he’d made me so sick in the wine cellar, yet was about to send me to an even more dangerous place. If that’s the case, Ethan Miller, let this time become your unforgettable memory. I synchronized the information with the death staging agency. They quickly responded. After reading the reply, I deleted all records related to the death staging agency from my phone. After resting for a day, Ethan Miller came to me: “Avy, I see you’ve been unhappy lately and your illness is recovering slowly. How about I take you out to get some fresh air? I know a stargazing spot near an abandoned mine pit. It’s especially peaceful, and the air is good.” I nodded indifferently. Ethan had originally thought I’d be unwilling and had prepared words to coax me. He hadn’t expected me to cooperate so readily. He froze, an inexplicable unease growing in his heart, but he quickly suppressed it, smiling as he stroked my head: “You’ll like it there.” Feeling the familiar warmth on my head, I felt no joy whatsoever. After lunch, Ethan Miller took me out. The car headed north all the way. At red lights, Ethan Miller looked over at me several times, seeming to want to say something but stopping. I asked him: “What’s wrong?” His gaze stopped on my still somewhat pale face. When he spoke again, he said: “Nothing, just remembered you said you prepared a surprise for me. The date seems to be tomorrow.” Hearing this, I managed a smile: “You still remember. Don’t worry, it’ll definitely be a surprise you’ll like.” I was clearly smiling, but I felt my eyes growing hot and quickly turned my head. Unease surged in Ethan Miller’s heart again. The car soon reached the abandoned obsidian mine area at the state border. Looking at the desolate landscape outside the window with its danger warning signs, my heart still stirred. I knew about this mine area. There had been accidents here before, and the security wasn’t good now either. Ivy really knew how to pick places. What about Ethan Miller? Did he know how dangerous it was here? Just as I turned to look at Ethan Miller, a jarring creaking sound of metal being blown by wind came from the distance. Hearing the sound, Ethan Miller only frowned and said: “Avy, I think I forgot the hand warmer and blanket in the car. You look at the scenery here. I’ll go back to get them. I’ll be right back.” With that, he actually turned and walked back the way we came. I watched his retreating figure as the last trace of affection for Ethan in my heart completely dissipated. I really did stand there waiting for a while, then walked toward an abandoned vertical shaft deep in the mine area. By the time I reached the shaft, the sun had already set. There seemed to be suspicious figures and sounds in the distance. The wind blowing through the mine tunnels made a whimpering sound. I still hadn’t seen Ethan Miller return with the items. When the agreed time came, without thinking, I leaped toward the bottomless dark shaft. … When Ethan Miller drove back, the unease in his heart grew stronger. What was that sound just now? Leaving Ava alone in that place—could she be in danger? He tried to sense Ava’s condition through the Mate Bond but found he couldn’t sense Ava’s presence at all. When he reached the apartment he’d agreed on with Ivy, he pushed open the door to find several friends already there. But he had no mood to chat with his friends. He came up and grabbed Ivy’s hand: “That mine area you picked—there’s no danger there, right?” Ivy pulled her hand back in dissatisfaction: “What danger could there be? It’s just some ruins. If you’re worried, go back and keep Ava company.” Ethan Miller immediately hugged Ivy to placate her. After he’d calmed her down, he started talking with his friends again. This was clearly something he always did, but today, Ethan Miller felt restless, as if something was about to happen. Time moved forward minute by minute. Ethan’s phone received several calls, but Ivy hung them all up for him. “It must be Ava trying to call you for help. Don’t bother with her.” Ethan didn’t bother, but his heart was already full of unease. After another urgent phone call rang, Ethan answered before Ivy could. But the voice on the other end wasn’t Ava. It was an unfamiliar male voice: “Is this Alpha Ethan? We found your wife’s belongings at the obsidian mine area and… traces of a fall into a shaft. Please come to the scene as soon as possible.”

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When we moved into our new home, my mom warned me over and over not to expose my succubus identity. But it didn’t take long before I was starving, and my true form popped out right in my second stepbrother’s arms. He wickedly tugged at my tail. My face was flushed, my voice trembling: “Ethan, I let you touch my tail and ears. You can’t tell a third person…” Before I could finish, I saw my oldest stepbrother, fresh out of the shower, standing at the bedroom door. “Too late. Unless you let me touch them too.” 01 I was curled up in Ethan’s arms, burning up. His hand was kneading the tip of my tail, giving it a wicked tug every now and then. That tingling sensation almost made me cry. To make matters worse, his other hand was playing with my ears, his fingertips brushing lightly behind them. “Ethan… don’t touch the ears…” I bit my lip, my voice as faint as a mosquito. A succubus’s ears and tail are incredibly sensitive. Growing up, I had never been touched like this by anyone. “Hmm?” Ethan’s breath ghosted over my ear. “Didn’t you say I could touch everything?” I shuddered and shook my head frantically. “I take it back… I take it back!” But my tail unconsciously wrapped itself around his finger. A low chuckle came from above my head. “Your mouth says no, but your tail is very honest.” I buried my face in his wrinkled shirt, dying of embarrassment. This was a completely instinctual reaction. I swore I really couldn’t control it! A succubus’s tail has a mind of its own. Ethan moved again, his long fingers slowly tracing up my tail. Like he was playing with a fascinating new toy. “Tsk, are all you succubi this soft?” As a newly-adult succubus, having my true form played with like this… I was going to explode. 02 I always thought I was a normal human. Until I turned 18, and fluffy ears and a tail popped out of nowhere. Looking at myself in the mirror, my world collapsed. My mom told me the truth. Turns out, she was a succubus who married a human, and then they had me. I originally had a fifty percent chance of being a normal human. She patted my head and sighed: “My genes were just too strong. I didn’t expect you to inherit the succubus trait.” Before I could even recover from the shock of not being human, my mom dropped another bomb the next day: she was divorcing my dad. I was devastated all over again. “Do you guys not love each other anymore? Am I not going to have a dad?” My mom shook her head, stroking my face with pity. “Your dad has already been sucked dry by me. It’s time to swap for a new one.” On the day of the divorce, my biological dad, Robert Miller, held a massive bottle of Viagra and testosterone boosters, crying his eyes out. His steps were weak, his face pale, but he still clung to my mom’s dress, begging her not to leave. My mom didn’t say anything; she just patted his shoulder. “Take care of your health.” I thought my mom would be sad for a while, but less than a month later, she came to me glowing with vitality. “Chloe, we’re getting a new family.” According to my mom, my stepdad’s ex-wife divorced him because she complained he was like a horny teenager. When he met my mom, sparks flew. It was a perfect match. They eloped within a month. It was only when we moved into our new home that I was told I had two stepbrothers. The eldest, Liam Vance, was the current CEO of the Vance family’s investment firm—cold, aloof, and completely untouchable. The second brother, Ethan Vance, I actually knew of. He was the captain of the basketball team at my university, radiating serious bad-boy energy. Our stepdad, Richard, told them to take good care of me. During our first meeting, Ethan sat lazily on the couch, his long legs stretched out. Seeing me, he waved his hand dismissively. “Come here.” 03 I obediently walked over to him. When I got close, I finally noticed the small beauty mark near the corner of his eye. “Call me Ethan.” “Ethan.” Ethan ruffled the top of my head and let out a low chuckle. “Pretty obedient.” I don’t know why, but my whole body suddenly felt scorching hot. I barely managed to hide my ears and tail. My oldest stepbrother, Liam, was very busy with the company, so I rarely saw him. One day, I ran into him at home, and he handed me a bracelet. I didn’t recognize the luxury brand, but my intuition told me it was incredibly expensive. I hesitated, too scared to take it. Liam looked up at me. His sharp nose and slightly pressed lips gave off an intimidating, authoritative aura. “Don’t like the welcome gift?” I flinched, quickly shook my head, and took it. “I love it. Thank you, Liam.” “Mm.” Liam reached out and patted my head. The scent of his expensive cologne drifted into my nose. It smelled really good. I felt my ears and tail itching to pop out again. I quickly escaped to my room and frantically texted my mom for help. [Mom, why do I keep getting burning hot lately, and why do my ears and tail want to pop out?] Mom: [Now that you’ve matured into a succubus, you need to be ‘fed’ regularly.] [Hugs, kisses, and physical touch from the opposite sex all work. Otherwise, your succubus features will expose themselves. Ideally, you should go all the way… that’s the most effective.] [If you go too long without being satisfied, your whole body will burn up with fever…] Reading this, my face turned beet red. I felt like I’d been struck by lightning. What kind of spicy, rated-R setup was this?! Why did it have to happen to me? And never mind going “all the way.” Growing up, I was so innocent I hadn’t even held a boy’s hand! Where the hell was I supposed to find a guy to do that with right now? Another text from my mom popped up. [Chloe, it’s all my fault. I was so focused on making you study for your SATs that I never taught you about this. I thought you were human, I didn’t realize you were just a late bloomer.] [Don’t worry, Mom will absolutely scout out a great boyfriend for you! If you find someone you like, make a move! Until we find you a boyfriend, just hold it in. DO NOT let your ears and tail show, and whatever you do, don’t let your stepdad or stepbrothers find out!] I nodded to myself in the empty room. [Don’t worry, Mom. I’ll definitely hold it in!] 04 I couldn’t hold it in. That night, I curled up under my blankets, helplessly biting my pillowcase. Why did it hurt so much? My scorching body temperature felt like it was setting me on fire. My skin was burning; I felt so hot and restless. I texted my mom for help, but she didn’t reply. I threw on a jacket and decided to go knock on her door. The heat was frying my brain. I stumbled blindly to a door and knocked. The door opened. But wait, why was Ethan the one opening the door? Ethan leaned against the doorframe, looking at me lazily. “It’s late. Something wrong?” I looked up, staring straight at him. My brain was completely mush. “Nothing…” I just wanted to get closer to him. Closer, just a little closer… My body moved on its own, wrapping my arms around him. I buried my face in his hard chest and rubbed against it. A satisfied sigh escaped my lips: “Ethan, you smell so good.” Ethan’s body stiffened. He shoved me away, his voice sounding unnatural. “What are you talking about?” His hands gripping my shoulders felt searing hot, but I couldn’t resist pressing myself against his arm, rubbing my cheek against it. So cool, so comfortable. “Ethan, just one hug…” Before I could finish, I was yanked into his room. From the hallway, I heard my mom’s voice: “Weird, she texted me, but she’s not in her room…” Inside the room, Ethan pinned me against the back of the door, clamping his hand tightly over my mouth. I took the opportunity to run my hands over his abs. Ethan sucked in a sharp breath and grabbed my wandering hands. “Hiss… stop touching me.” Before he could finish, he stared blankly at the top of my head, looking completely bewildered. “Holy shit, why do you have ears?” He didn’t know I had a tail, too. My tail had slipped out of my nightgown and was wagging frantically behind his back. 05 Once the noise in the hallway disappeared, Ethan let go of me and touched my fluffy ears. He even pinched them. As if trying to confirm if they were real, he then gave my tail a tug. A tingling, electric sensation shot from my tail through my entire body. I shuddered, unable to hold back any longer, and pounced on him. He caught me in a full embrace. “Holy— what are you doing, stop, hiss…” Ignoring his protests, I grabbed him and aggressively inhaled his scent. By the time my sanity barely returned… I realized I was straddling Ethan. I had even ripped several buttons off his shirt. His large hand was firmly pressing my head down to stop me from rubbing against him, while his other hand propped him up on the bed. He looked like he was losing his mind. “Chloe, what the hell did you grow? And stop rubbing your ears and tail on me.” Realizing what I had just done to my stepbrother… I didn’t dare look up. I answered him in a tiny voice: “We succubi… we grow ears and tails.” After saying that, I tried my hardest to restrain myself, scooting my butt backward. I heard another sharp intake of breath above my head. His hoarse, warning voice sounded: “Succubus step-sister, stop moving.” Uh-oh. Under my butt, there seemed to be something… Suddenly, a knock on the door. “Ethan, the shower in my room is broken. Let me use yours for a bit.” I was still sitting on Ethan’s lap. My entire succubus brain went completely blank. We locked eyes. Crap, I didn’t want Liam to find out! Was there anywhere I could hide?! Ethan reacted fast. He shoved me straight under his duvet. “If Liam finds out you’re in my room this late, I won’t be able to explain it. Don’t make a sound.” After warning me, he dove under the covers too. His long legs formed a tent under the blanket, giving me space to hide. As if afraid I’d move around, he firmly pressed my head against his abs. Feeling the warm skin against my face… I swallowed hard. Ah, his abs smell so good. I want to bite them. In the room, it sounded like Liam had walked in. “Why is your face so red?” Ethan’s hoarse voice replied: “It’s nothing. If you’re going to use the shower, hurry up… mm.” Halfway through his sentence, he let out a muffled groan, gritting his back teeth. Under the blanket, I honestly couldn’t resist. I nuzzled my face against Ethan’s abs and planted a kiss right on them. 06 Liam looked at Ethan’s flushed face and the shifting lump under the duvet. His deep, smooth voice carried a hint of amusement. “You’ve got a lot of energy for this time of night. Looks like I interrupted your fun.” Ethan’s face turned beet red. His tone sounded like he was swallowing broken glass. “It’s nothing. Just go take your shower, bro.” A moment later, the sound of running water came from the bathroom. Ethan yanked me out from under the blanket by the scruff of my neck. He held the back of my head, his narrow eyes glaring fiercely at me. “Do you have a death wish?” Now that I couldn’t rub against his abs anymore… I pouted. “I just wanted a hug.” He stared at me, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Fuck.” I persisted, leaning closer: “Ethan, if I let you touch my ears and tail, will you let me hug you?” The look in Ethan’s eyes instantly darkened… His shirt was hopelessly wrinkled from me grabbing it, and two buttons were torn open, exposing his defined collarbone. I swallowed frantically, using all my willpower not to bite him. Just from hugging him earlier, I had finally regained my sanity. I carefully begged him not to tell anyone. Ethan tugged at my tail, revealing a playful, roguish smirk. His raspy voice sounded: “Then let me touch them some more. I haven’t had enough.” I trembled under his hands. Every second was pure agony. I looked up at him with teary eyes: “Ethan, I let you touch my tail and ears. You have to promise me you won’t tell a third person.” He tipped my chin up, his handsome face inches from mine. The corners of his eyes curved up slightly, a smirk playing on his lips. “Don’t worry, why would I let anyone else know…” But before he could finish his sentence, the familiar scent of expensive body wash hit my nose. I snapped my head up. My oldest stepbrother, Liam, was leaning against the doorframe, wearing loose loungewear, his chest partially exposed. He was staring at us, his eyes dark and unfathomable. 07 I froze. How much did Liam see? “Looks like I finished at a bad time.” Liam’s voice was low, but his gaze made me inexplicably panic. Ethan’s hand was still resting on my tail. Hearing this, he raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t even say anything when you got out of the shower?” Liam spoke slowly: “I did. You two were just too invested to hear.” My face instantly caught fire. I struggled to slip out of Ethan’s arms, but he pulled me even closer. Liam walked over, his usually stoic face unreadable. “Since I’ve already seen everything, how about you let me touch them too?” Hearing Liam’s words, my brain short-circuited. Liam, you too?! I shook my head frantically: “No!” “Why not?” Liam sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes darkening. “You let Ethan touch them, but not me. That’s not fair.” I looked at Ethan pleadingly, but he just shrugged at me. “I listen to Liam.” I was so mad I wanted to bite someone. Since when were these two so synchronized?! Liam reached out, his long fingers gently brushing the tip of my ear. I shuddered, my tail unconsciously wagging. “So cute,” Liam chuckled. “Like a little bunny.” I was dying of embarrassment, but completely helpless. A succubus’s ears and tail were simply too sensitive. Being played with like this, I didn’t even have the strength to stand. To make matters worse, Ethan wickedly raised his knee, forcing me deeper into his lap. “You… you guys can’t tell anyone…” I said, my voice thick with unshed tears. “Of course.” Liam’s finger traced the curve of my ear down to my neck. “But on one condition.” “What condition?” “From now on, whenever I want to touch them, I can.” My eyes widened. “No way!” Liam let out a low laugh. “Yes way.”

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When my boyfriend found out I had a thousand dollars loaded onto my campus dining card, his eyes practically turned into dollar signs. Under the guise of “helping me budget,” he convinced me to let him hold onto it. But when I bought a $15 steak for lunch, he completely lost it. “Fifteen dollars? That’s enough for me to eat in the dining hall for three days. If I ate ramen and beans, it would last me ten days!” “My parents have worked their fingers to the bone their entire lives, and they’ve never even smelled a steak like that. And you? You’re playing the rich heiress with your parents’ hard-earned money?” “Go return that steak right now and get a $5 combo meal.” I laughed out of sheer anger. My parents loaded a thousand dollars onto my dining card so I could eat well every meal, not so I would have to walk on eggshells to get a bite of food. 01 At lunchtime, I used my dining card to buy the daily special: a $15 pan-seared steak. The moment I sat down, my boyfriend, Ethan, suddenly snapped at me. “Chloe, are you insane? Fifteen dollars for a thin piece of meat? Do you think money grows on trees?” “My parents work themselves to death all month just to scrape together a few of those fifteen dollars. They don’t even know what a steak tastes like! And what are you doing? Acting like some spoiled trust-fund baby?” “Go return it right now. Go get a $5 value meal.” My fork froze mid-air. I looked at my inexplicably furious boyfriend in confusion. I swiped my card. Why was he so agitated? I knew Ethan came from a struggling rural family. His parents farmed to put him through college. His monthly allowance of $150 wasn’t even enough to cover one nice dinner out for me. He pinched pennies in his daily life. He only bought things on extreme clearance and only ate the cheapest meals. The faded white button-down he wore was supposedly from middle school; he hadn’t thrown it away in eight years. Mindful of his financial situation and afraid of hurting his pride, I suppressed my anger and tried to explain gently. “Ethan, I only eat this occasionally. It’s not like I’m having it every meal. Plus, the quality of this steak is really high. It’s definitely worth the price.” I held up a piece of the steak on my fork to show him. Plump meat, a beautiful rosy color, seared perfectly. A steak of this quality would easily cost forty or fifty dollars at a restaurant off-campus. “Eat? Do you even deserve to eat something this expensive? Look at you. Who besides me could stand a spendthrift like you?” Ethan interrupted me impatiently, slamming his hand on the table and knocking the fork right out of my hand. The piece of steak tumbled to the floor, instantly drawing the attention of the students around us. My eyes widened with a mix of disbelief and anger. Just as I was about to fire back. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed several students pointing and whispering about us. Some even had their phones out. “He’s so mad, his girlfriend must have maxed out his dining card.” “I think I’ve heard of that guy. He’s a senior, really good grades, but he’s on a low-income grant. He probably snapped because he can’t afford his gold-digger girlfriend.” “That girlfriend is so clueless. Her boyfriend is broke, and she’s maxing out his card? She’s obviously just a leech.” Hearing the whispers around me, my cheeks burned like fire. I reached out to grab Ethan’s sleeve. “If we’re going to fight, let’s do it outside. There are so many people here, aren’t you embarrassed?” “Besides, I spent money from my own dining card! And my parents loaded all that money because they want me to eat well. It’s just a piece of steak. It’s not like I can’t afford it.” Ethan violently shook off my hand. Ignoring my resistance, he forcefully dragged me to the next table, pointing at a student who was gnawing on a plain bagel. “Look. This is what you call knowing how to live. A vain parasite like you should be forced to eat plain bagels and cheap beans every day.” “If you’re willing to blow $15 on something as flashy as a steak today, what’s next? Are you going to want a $50 salad? A $20 bottle of water? How can I trust you with our family’s finances in the future if you act like this? You aren’t thinking about our future at all!” “Think you can just swipe your card whenever you want? Dream on. I told you I’d manage your dining card, and I’m a man of my word. I need to monitor every meal you eat to keep you from wasting your parents’ hard-earned money!” Under the strange gazes of the crowd, I stared at the steak lying on the floor, trembling with rage. Ethan holding onto my dining card was like him choking the very breath out of me. I felt incredibly stifled. Using my own dining card had somehow become a “sin” worthy of public criticism and education. I couldn’t help but regret agreeing to let him manage my dining card in the first place. 02 At the beginning of the semester, when Ethan found out I had a thousand dollars on my dining card, his eyes lit up. He told me he was a Taurus, that he had been good with money since he was a kid. He said that since I was a freshman, I wouldn’t know the ins and outs of the dining halls—which had over fifty different food stalls. He was afraid I’d get ripped off and offered to manage my dining card, promising to save me money while making sure I ate well and cheaply. “Chloe, you’re young and don’t know how to budget. Let me hold onto your dining card. Tell me when you want to eat, and I’ll be there on call.” Thinking that as a junior, he definitely knew the dining halls better, and swept up in his sweet-talk of “doing it for my own good” and the rose-colored glasses of new love, I foolishly handed over my dining card. Ever since Ethan took over my dining card, every time I wanted to use it, I had to report to him first. He would interrogate me in agonizing detail about what I wanted to buy and how much it cost. At first, I thought he just cared about me. I even happily told him I wanted to buy some fresh strawberries for $10. Ethan sucked in a breath of cold air. “Ten dollars? Do you know how many pounds of bananas you could buy with that?” “Instead of eating 50-cent bananas, you insist on strawberries. You girls are all just following trends, eating whatever’s expensive. You deserve to be ripped off by these greedy merchants!” “Strawberries and bananas have the same nutritional value. Listen to me, just buy a pound of bananas.” In the end, I went back to my dorm carrying clearance bananas that cost a dollar a pound. Ethan was very satisfied. He said it all looked the same once it hit your stomach, so there was no need to pay extra for how it looked. I felt incredibly frustrated. There were many similar incidents. Every time I wanted to buy something, Ethan would “kindly” find a so-called cheap alternative. Boba tea was swapped for tap water. A slice of cake was swapped for a plain muffin. He even wanted to swap a $2 yogurt for a free promotional drink his roommate got with takeout. Pile upon pile, Ethan’s words felt like iron chains binding me, stripping away my freedom. But I never imagined that the Ethan who once promised to be “on call” would now lecture me over spending a few dollars. This was completely different from what he said about “saving me money” when he asked for my card. This was him actively restricting my spending. I stubbornly started a cold war with Ethan and went to the dining hall with my roommate, Sarah. It just so happened the dining hall had opened a new premium stir-fry stall. The food looked amazing and smelled divine. It cost $8 a plate. Since Ethan had my physical card, I used the mobile app linked to my account to pay via QR code. Right after I paid, my phone started ringing immediately. “Chloe, what did you buy that cost $8? You just can’t change, can you? I confiscate your physical card, and you just use the app?” “Fine, I’m coming to the dining hall right now to show everyone what a spoiled brat looks like!” His angry voice drew stares from the students around me. I felt embarrassed and angry. “You don’t need to come. I already got it to go.” “Besides, I just bought a plate of stir-fry. Is it a crime to use the money from my own account?” “Chloe, we’re dating, and you’re already dividing what’s yours and what’s mine? What are we going to do when we get married? Split everything 50/50? Can you stop being so selfish? Can you think about us for a second? Do you think it’s easy for your parents to make money? Don’t you feel guilty spending it like this? Listen to me. From now on, if it costs more than a dollar, ask me first.” Seeing the strange looks from the people around me and Sarah’s probing gaze, I was flush with shame and anger. Tears welled in my eyes as I hung up the phone. The delicious stir-fry, just like the steak that day, turned into something that made me lose my appetite. Back in the dorm, Sarah saw my red eyes, let out a muffled laugh, and then offered some hypocritical comfort. “Oh, Chloe, Ethan is just looking out for you. Look at me, when I want to eat something nice, I don’t have anyone to tell me no. He’s talking to you because he cares. Unlike me, a loner with no one to love or care for me.” “It’s rare to find a guy who knows how to budget like him nowadays. He’s so busy all day, but he still finds time to pay attention to what you eat. Even if he plays the bad cop, he’s trying to help you break your bad spending habits. He genuinely wants a long-term future with you.” I responded with a few annoyed “mhm”s and climbed into bed, closing my eyes to sleep. But lying in bed, my chest felt like it was being crushed by a heavy stone. It was so suffocating. It was already 3 AM, but I tossed and turned, unable to sleep. I just couldn’t understand. Why did “looking out for me” mean losing the freedom to choose what I eat and drink? Why did it mean only consuming cheap alternatives? For the first time, I realized that I couldn’t handle this “good intention” from my boyfriend in the name of love. 03 After evening study hall, my stomach rumbled. I wanted to go to the late-night snack window at the dining hall. I didn’t expect that Ethan, afraid I’d spend money, had actually disabled the quick-pay feature on my app. Furious, I went straight to his dorm building to get my physical card back. When he came downstairs, his first sentence was an interrogation about what I was going to buy. I told him straight up that I was hungry and wanted some soup and a small piece of cake. Ethan looked confused, looking me up and down for a solid minute. “No way! Look what time it is. Eating soup and cake now? It’ll make you fat and waste money. Just endure it. Go drink some water. You won’t be hungry once you’re asleep.” Shock spread across my face. He actually wanted me to fill up on water? The burning sensation of hunger gave me strength. I stood firm and refused to back down, confronting him in front of the busy dorm entrance. Finally, with a dark expression, Ethan followed me to the dining hall. Taking long strides, he swiped the card before I could say anything, bought a plain, dry roll, and handed it to me like charity. “Fine. Eat. Stop walking around with a long face like I’m abusing you. I’m providing for you, what more do you want?” I frowned at the roll in his hand—harder than a rock and completely unappetizing—and shoved it away forcefully. I was exhausted after a whole night of studying. I absolutely refused to eat a dry piece of bread for a late-night snack. Ethan, seeing my reaction, immediately threw the roll onto the floor! “Eat it or don’t. Starve, you deserve it. It’ll help you lose that fat anyway.” Looking at the roll rolling on the floor, my stomach cramped in pain, and my heart felt even more suffocated. Hungry and feeling deeply wronged, I went to find my best friend, Mia, crying as I poured out the details of this terrible conflict caused by the dining card. Ethan was my first boyfriend. I valued this relationship very much. We originally met online. I posted on a forum asking for advice on college applications, and he patiently guided me and encouraged me to apply to his university. Online, he was funny, humorous, attentive, and considerate. He would send me ginger tea when I had my period. For my birthday, he sent a matching couple’s bracelet he wove himself. When I had a cold, his heart ached so much he stayed up all night on a voice call with me, constantly muttering: “God above, transfer all her pain to me. Just let my baby be healthy and safe.” When the semester started, I was full of anticipation to meet him in person. But I never expected the real-life him to be completely different from the gentle, considerate boyfriend online. I knew our living standards were vastly different. I’m the only daughter of a family in California. My parents run a successful international trading business. They provide for all my needs. For my 18th birthday, I got a luxury condo in Los Angeles. When I was eating $100 sushi, he was eating plain bread with hot sauce before running an hour to do a $15 tutoring session. But he had good grades and ambition. Even though he had a year left until graduation, he had already secured an internship at a Fortune 500 company. His future was bright. He also promised me: “Baby, when I graduate and get a job, I’ll give all my salary to you.” I didn’t have a very profound concept of money. My parents told me to keep a low profile at school, to avoid showing off wealth, and to avoid bringing unnecessary trouble to the family. So, after starting college, I gave up eating at high-end restaurants and squeezed into the dining halls with my classmates. With Ethan, I also believed that after he graduated and had a stable income, the gap between us would narrow. But I never expected the conflict exposed by the dining card would make me realize that our entirely different concepts of consumption couldn’t be resolved simply by compromising. The gap in our backgrounds was like an uncrossable chasm. After Mia understood the whole story, her words hit the nail on the head. “He took your dining card? That’s robbery. It’s manipulation. It’s psychological control!” “Saving you money? Bullshit! He’s jealous. He’s insecure. He can’t stand seeing you live better than him. He wants to drag you down into the mud so you rot with him.” “Managing your dining card? The next step is making you hand over your living expenses, your salary, turning your money into his money. Wake up, Chloe! This is the beginning of a crime!” Mia reminded me seriously: “Go check your dining card balance immediately. With a guy like this, who knows if he’s been secretly spending your money!” I woke up as if from a dream, realizing the severity of the problem. It turns out that true “good intentions” lift you higher. They don’t clip your wings and then blame you for not being able to fly. I pulled out my phone and immediately texted Ethan. [We’re done. Return my dining card immediately.]

My mother, terrified I’d mismanage my college living expenses, demanded a daily, itemized expense report. When I bought a one-dollar bagel from a campus cart and couldn’t provide a receipt, she immediately slashed my monthly allowance from $500 to $250. “I only accept printed, itemized receipts. No receipt means you’re embezzling money. Don’t even think about hiding a secret stash.” “If you dare try to scam me out of a dollar with an un-receipted bagel today, you’ll try to scam me out of my entire retirement fund tomorrow.” I spent every day buried in receipts, comparing prices, and doing accounting. I failed all my midterms and was practically drained of life. In despair, with trembling hands, I sent a text to the guy who was currently pursuing me—a senior whose family owned a chain of supermarkets: [Senior, let’s date. As long as you can get me any receipt I need.] 01 [I’ve told you how many times now? I do not accept handwritten receipts. Even if you sent me a selfie with the street vendor, it’s useless. How do I know if you actually bought a one-dollar bagel? I only accept printed, itemized machine receipts.] [Stop trying to play smart with me. Your living expenses for this month are cut in half. From five hundred down to two hundred and fifty.] On the other end of the phone, my mother’s voice dropped like a judge’s gavel. One strike, and she pronounced my death sentence right then and there. A monthly allowance of $250. For a college student living in New York City, it left me frozen in place. Here, the cheapest basic meal at the dining hall—just rice and a side of veggies—costs $8. To save money, I had been eating plain bread dipped in hot sauce for half a month straight. I didn’t even dare to look at the skincare and makeup my female classmates loved to buy, things that easily cost hundreds of dollars. When my face got so dry it peeled, I just used a 50-cent packet of generic baby lotion. New clothes were a luxury I couldn’t even dream of. Right now, the $1 clearance bagel I had managed to grab didn’t even taste good anymore. To get this clearance bagel, I had lined up at 5:30 AM. Because this was the only breakfast I could find that was both cheap and actually had some meat in it. Unfortunately, there was no receipt. To prove I had indeed bought the bagel, I sent my mom a photo of me with the vendor. But my mom didn’t accept it. Because my mom demanded a receipt for every single expense. She would audit my accounts randomly. If the amount I spent didn’t perfectly match the amount on the receipt… She would implement a “fake one, fine ten” policy. For every dollar missing, ten dollars would be deducted from next month’s allowance. My original monthly allowance of $500 was already stretching me thin. If it got cut any further, I truly wouldn’t be able to survive. [Mom, a $250 allowance is nowhere near enough. Can you please just give me the $500 we agreed on? I promise I’ll get a receipt next time I buy something.] My mom’s rejection popped up immediately: [Absolutely not. A mistake is a mistake. You’re a college student in a big city far from home. If I don’t strictly control your living expenses, what if you go wild?] [My money doesn’t grow on trees. Don’t even think about wasting a single cent of mine.] Classmates around me were heading towards a food truck selling hot dogs. A girl turned around and called out to me: “Chloe, come on! Their crepes and hot dogs are huge and delicious.” I shook my head, turned, and went into the convenience store next door that could print receipts. I bought a $3 loaf of bread that was nearing its expiration date. “Don’t mind her, she’s a precious rich girl. She never eats street food. She’s not like us peasants!” “What is she pretending to be poor for? Isn’t that a clearance bagel from a street cart in her hand? She’s so weird. Even when she goes to the supermarket, she buys the cheapest clearance stuff. That dry, crusty bread costs more than our crepes. She’s got rocks in her head.” I lowered my head, crumpling the $3 receipt in my hand. Then, terrified, I quickly smoothed the receipt out, afraid my mom would deduct more of my allowance. Was I angry? Probably. But mostly, I felt humiliated. However, saving face meant nothing to me right now, because tonight was this month’s receipt accounting day. It was the “Judgment Day” that made me tremble with anxiety every single month. It determined exactly how much allowance I would get next month. 02 In the dorm, my roommates were already cheering about receiving their allowance for the upcoming month. “Yay! My dad transferred me $3,000 this month, a thousand more than last month. He said it’s getting hot, so I should buy some watermelon and ice cream, and not get heatstroke. Hehe, I’m treating everyone to BBQ tonight!” I looked at the box filled with a pile of shopping receipts, stayed silent for a moment, and declined my roommate’s invitation. I had to organize my receipts to get next month’s allowance. Plus, I couldn’t even afford to buy tampons with proper packaging. How could I possibly pay someone back for BBQ? That night, taking advantage of the time my roommates were out at dinner. I quickly turned on my desk lamp and took out dozens of receipts: A $1 pack of tissues, a $2 bottle of water, a $3 pen… Following my mom’s requirements, I sent them all to her. By the time I finished, it was two hours later. Sweat from my face dripped down my chin onto my shirt. I tried to wipe it with the back of my hand, but there was more and more of it. It wasn’t until I saw myself in the mirror that I realized… They were tears. But at 5 AM the next day, I was woken up by a barrage of messages from my mom. [Chloe, what is wrong with you? This transaction receipt just says ‘Daily Necessities’. Did you buy something shady behind my back? Haha, trying to get me to reimburse you for hooking up with some random guy. I’m not a sucker!] The receipt my mom was talking about was for a $2.50 pack of clearance tampons. They were on a promotional sale, so it didn’t list the specific item. $2.50. Was that enough for a mother to spread nasty rumors about her own daughter? My fingertips trembled, and the next message popped up. [And how is this bottle of water 50 cents more expensive! The one you bought at the supermarket next door last time was 50 cents cheaper. Are you blind? You don’t even know how to compare prices, you idiot!] But I had gotten heatstroke that day and fainted in front of that supermarket. The kind owner gave me water to drink. I bought it out of gratitude. I put down my phone and stared blankly without moving. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Thinking about the allowance I hadn’t received yet, I tremblingly started typing an explanation. But I had only typed half of it. My mom’s message came through: [Your receipt pasting is a mess, and your accounting is a disaster. I’m deducting another $70. I’m giving you $180. $6 a day won’t starve you to death. Let this be a lesson to you!] Following that was a bright red Venmo transfer notification wishing me “Good Luck and Prosperity.” The color of the transfer was exceptionally festive. But I felt like I had descended into hell. 03 It was 102 degrees outside, and the dorm was sweltering. But I felt freezing cold, so cold I felt like I had turned into an ice sculpture, unable to move a muscle. But my mom still wouldn’t let me go. My phone vibrated again. She sent a PDF file titled “Allowance Usage Guidelines.” It was ten pages long. I sniffled and haphazardly wiped away my tears with the back of my hand. With trembling fingers, I scrolled through it: Every receipt must be signed with a 0.5mm black gel pen to ensure it was my own purchase. After a purchase, it must be uploaded and confirmed by a parent within 24 hours. If it exceeds the time limit, double the receipt amount will be deducted from next month’s allowance. On the 1st of every month, a monthly consumption budget must be submitted, precise to the day and the meal. All consumption vouchers, receipts, and payment screenshots must be retained and sent to a parent for review every day. The purchase of any “non-essential items” is strictly prohibited, including boba tea, snacks, clothing, cosmetics, etc. Participation in any paid entertainment activities is strictly prohibited, such as: Dining out, watching movies, celebrating holidays, concerts. Only after the conditions are audited and approved will the corresponding amount of allowance be disbursed. If there are any violation consumption items… The corresponding amount will be deducted, or the allowance will be suspended! My vision went black in waves, and my head ached like ten thousand needles were piercing it. I felt like I was going to die. I even thought that maybe dying would be a release. These things my mom sent… wasn’t she just trying to drive me to my death? Perhaps my mom also realized how excessive these conditions were. She sent another message: [Chloe, Mom is doing all this for your own good. I want to help you establish correct financial values and be a good kid. Besides, our family’s financial situation isn’t good. Your dad and I just make a fixed salary. You have to understand my good intentions, right?] My mom’s words blocked all the accusations building up in my heart at my lips. Leaving me unable to say a single word. I exited the chat window with my mom, intending to turn off my phone, but my finger accidentally slipped. I accidentally tapped on it and saw my mom’s profile picture in the “Stories” section. How could this be? Mom never posts stories. I quickly clicked to look and saw that my mom had posted a grid of nine daily life photos. She had bought a $50,000 designer bag, and she even had two of the same style in different colors. Mom captioned the photos: [The joy of a mere $100,000.] She was also eating at a high-end restaurant with my dad. The caption on that photo read: [Having this every week, getting kind of sick of it. Does anyone have any restaurant recommendations? Must be over $1,000 per person~] When I tried to look again, the story was gone. I suddenly remembered that my mom always said our family was poor. I had told her I could apply for financial aid and student loans. At the time, my mom refused, giving the grand excuse that we should leave the opportunity to those who truly needed it. Looking at it now, the reason she wouldn’t let me apply… Was because our family’s financial situation was actually very good! She gave me so little allowance and set such harsh conditions… Just because she wanted to control me. My mom’s message came through again. [Why aren’t you saying anything? You haven’t accepted the transfer either. Do you not want your allowance?] [Chloe, you’re an adult now. Mom doing this is just to make you responsible for your own spending. The 24-hour rule is to improve your efficiency and fix your bad habit of procrastinating. Those boba teas and snacks are just garbage that make you fat and harm your body. And those parties, that’s not socializing, that’s wasting time eating, drinking, and playing around. Remember, your parents’ money doesn’t grow on trees, and it’s certainly not for you to squander!] I looked at the message I hadn’t sent yet: [Our family is obviously very rich. Why do you treat me like this!] After thinking about it, I deleted it bit by bit. I hadn’t taken a screenshot of my mom’s story; I had no proof. Once I rebelled, my situation would likely get even worse. The $180 allowance left me with no way out, and no strength to fight back. I silently accepted the transfer, praying in my heart that if I met my mom’s demands, next month’s allowance might be a little higher. Even if it just went back to $500, that would be fine. But I never expected that my temporary endurance would lead to my true descent into the abyss. 04 My mind was no longer on studying. I was constantly calculating in my head: how much money do I have left, and how can I spend it? Several times in class, I brought the wrong textbook. But I didn’t dare lose or mix up a single shopping receipt. Because I had no money, I gradually grew distant from my classmates. Rumors about me started to multiply. Some said I had mental problems, valuing a piece of scrap paper shopping receipt more than my own life. Last time, trying to chase down a shopping receipt blown away by the wind, I fell down the stairs and scraped my leg. Some said I had no sympathy. During a heatwave, an old man selling fruit by the side of the road looked very pitiful. Everyone bought fruit to help the old man; I was the only one who didn’t. Others said I was just a petty person who liked to take advantage. When a new supermarket opened, I lined up at 3 AM and ended up missing an important major course. Every day, I couldn’t get enough to eat. In just one month, my weight plummeted from 110 pounds to under 90 pounds. I wanted to get a part-time job, but being alone all the time made my palms sweat and my whole body tremble whenever I spoke to strangers. On the second day of my part-time job, I fainted in the store. It was the kind-hearted boss who took me to the hospital. The doctor said I had severe depression and was already showing serious somatic symptoms, meaning I could faint at any moment. I didn’t dare go back to the part-time job, afraid of causing trouble for the boss. But I couldn’t even afford to pay for the medication the doctor prescribed. I understood even more that as long as the issue with the allowance receipts remained, my depression would never be cured. For a pitifully small allowance, I was truly going crazy. But even when I did what my mom demanded. She still found faults, and my allowance never went back up to $500. That day, right after class, I felt a sharp, twisting pain in my stomach. Because I had been chronically underfed and eating poorly, I had developed severe stomach issues. But I couldn’t even afford the cheapest stomach medicine the doctor prescribed, so I ended up just buying the cheapest painkillers. By the time I left the pharmacy, it was very late. My stomach was still throbbing with pain. After finishing a bagel, I threw away the plastic bag and accidentally threw away the pharmacy receipt into the trash can. Realizing what had happened, I felt like I had been struck by lightning. Reacting immediately, I disregarded everything and started digging through the trash can. I didn’t care if my fingers got cut, and I didn’t care about the foul stench of the trash can. I just wanted to find that receipt. A familiar voice came from behind me. It was my best friend from a neighboring university, Mia. I didn’t answer her, having finally found that receipt. I quickly wiped the receipt clean with my clothes. When I looked up, Mia was already standing in front of me, looking shocked and heartbroken. Only then did I realize what I had just done, my face turning bright red. Followed by a dam-burst of tears. Mia didn’t care that I was dirty and smelly, and she hugged me. I couldn’t hold it in anymore and showed her my chat history with my mom. Choking back sobs, I said: “Am I a criminal? Do I need to prove every single breath I take?!” Mia gritted her teeth in anger. “Holy shit, is this raising a daughter or punishing a prisoner? Rules? Signatures? 24 hours? Does she think she’s the FBI?” “To hell with her bullshit rules. Chloe, if you keep enduring this, you’re truly going to be ruined!” I clenched my fists tightly, my nails digging into my flesh. That thought, which had sprouted countless times only to be suppressed by me, could no longer be contained. I had to fight back! Before I could speak, the phone in my pocket suddenly vibrated. It was a greeting message from a senior who had already graduated. He asked me if I was eating well. Mia leaned in. “Wow, such caring words. Is he pursuing you? He’s pretty handsome, and I heard his family is well-off. They run a chain of supermarkets.” Supermarkets! I blinked, an idea forming in my mind. That night, hiding under the covers, I was so nervous my hands shook. I sent a message to the senior: [Senior, let’s date. As long as you can get me any receipt I need.]

He asked in a cold, clinical tone, “Are you currently sexually active?” “You were my boyfriend, shouldn’t you know?” Staring right at me, he didn’t flinch. “Miss Bennett, I feel the need to remind you that we broke up three months ago.” 1 I was the one who initiated the breakup. He had been working back-to-back shifts in the operating room for three days and completely missed my birthday. I waited at home until midnight, ate half of my birthday cake all by myself, and subsequently landed myself in the midnight ER with acute gastroenteritis, hooked up to an IV drip until dawn. When the sun came up, I clutched my cramping stomach and went home. I had barely sat down on the couch when the front door opened. Liam walked in, looking pale. He still carried the faint metallic scent of blood mixed with the sharp smell of hospital sanitizer. Looking exhausted, he leaned back against the single sofa chair and closed his eyes, acting as if he hadn’t even noticed me sitting right there. I stared at him in disbelief. “Liam Carter, are you seriously going to look right at me and pretend I’m invisible?” He slowly opened his eyes, his gaze cloudy. “I’m sorry, Chloe. I’m just too tired.” The leftover birthday cake was still sitting on the coffee table. He was too exhausted to even say “Happy Birthday.” By the time Liam woke up, I had already packed all my things. Two suitcases stood side-by-side by the entryway. I lifted my chin and formally announced, “Let’s break up.” Having caught up on sleep, he was back to his usual aloof, detached self. Listening to my declaration, he didn’t argue. He just leaned against the wall and said flatly, “You don’t know how to drive. Want me to take your things back to your place?” “No need.” He didn’t show a single ounce of wanting to win me back. My chest tightened with hurt. “I already called an Uber.” “Text me the license plate number, then,” Liam said, his lips pressed into a thin line, his jaw tight. “Be safe on the road.” In this entire relationship, those were his final words to me. I met Liam on a blind date. Three years out of college, staring down the barrel of my 25th birthday, my mom couldn’t take it anymore and started setting me up. I met six guys in a row. None of them went anywhere. Liam was number seven. The matchmaker said he came from a good family, was incredibly handsome, highly educated, worked as a doctor, had a limitless future, and wasn’t even thirty yet. Before meeting him, I vented to my best friend, Zoe. “If a guy with stats that good is reduced to going on blind dates, he’s either lying about his resume or he has a massive, glaring flaw.” As it turned out, his stats were real. And the flaw was real, too. He was just too busy. Liam was an OB-GYN. He graduated from a top-tier medical school and spent almost every waking second at the hospital. His personality was excessively cold. He had no idea how to sweet-talk girls, which was exactly why he had stayed single for so long. Even on our blind date, before we could finish our meal, he got a phone call, paid the bill early, and gave me a polite, professional goodbye. He was tall and gorgeous—definitely my type—but based on his completely unbothered demeanor throughout dinner, I figured he wasn’t interested. The next day, the matchmaker called my mom. She said Liam thought I was great and wanted to see where things went. And just like that, we dated for six months. Liam really was incredibly busy. During the few dates we actually managed to have, he would take calls, deal with work emergencies, and cut our time short more times than I could count. To see him more, I moved into his place. He handed me his credit card and told me to use it however I wanted. I had his phone passcode. He always had painkillers ready before my period cramps hit, and he always bought me expensive gifts for holidays. But that wasn’t what I needed. “You’re just being spoiled,” Zoe told me. “He literally handed his entire livelihood over to you. What more do you want? Remember that ex who called you a gold-digger because you asked him to cover a dinner bill?” After the breakup, my mom was furious and tried to drag me back to reconcile with Liam. I cried right in front of her. “I’m not going! When he gets busy, he forgets my birthday. I send him a dozen texts and he replies with one word. I can’t take this kind of neglect!” My mom sighed and finally stopped forcing it. When I got home, I opened iMessage and saw a text from Liam: Did you get home safe? I typed back a rigid Yeah, mimicking how he used to reply to me. I’m sorry. I saw the cake you left for me. Happy birthday. Just that one sentence almost made me burst into tears again. I forced them back and typed: Thanks. Okay. And that was the end of the conversation. I didn’t block Liam, and he didn’t delete my number. We stayed silently buried in each other’s contact lists. Liam never posted on social media. I posted to my Instagram Stories ten times a day—random, trivial details of my life. I knew absolutely nothing about his life post-breakup. He, on the other hand, probably knew exactly what I ate for all three meals a day. 2 Once my mom realized Liam and I were truly over, she introduced me to the son of a college friend. His name was Ethan Miller. “Ethan is a little younger than you, but he’s very mature and grounded,” she promised. When I actually met him, I realized my mom was totally full of it. Ethan had just graduated college. For our first date, he took me to an arcade. While a crowd of teenage girls cheered him on, he was going absolutely wild on the Dance Dance Revolution machine. What a childish boy. I stood on the sidelines, feeling a wave of annoyance, and suddenly missed Liam even more. Ethan won me a mountain of plushies from the claw machines, took me to dinner, and drove me home. Bored out of my mind later that night, I lined the plushies up one by one, snapped a photo, and posted it on my Story. When I got out of the shower, I noticed Liam had actually ‘liked’ the post. It was the first time he had engaged with any of my posts since we broke up. Suddenly energized, I zoomed in on the photo and studied it for a good ten minutes. Finally, in the bottom corner of the frame, I spotted Ethan’s hand resting on the steering wheel. Long fingers, prominent knuckles—definitely a man’s hand. I immediately texted Zoe: I think Liam still has feelings for me. She sent back a string of question marks. Chloe Bennett, you broke up three months ago. Get a grip. I am gripping reality. He cares. Truthfully, Ethan was a nice guy, but I knew myself well. Put nicely, I was high-maintenance. Put bluntly, I had princess syndrome. In my twenty-six years of life, the only people who could tolerate my temper were my mom, Zoe, and Liam. Even when I insisted on eating messy, spicy takeout in his pristine bed and accidentally spilled it everywhere, he hadn’t gotten mad. He calmly cleaned up my mess and ordered me a fresh bowl. I booked an appointment online and went to Liam’s hospital clinic the next morning. When I told him I wanted a birth control implant for my arm, his brow furrowed slightly before returning to his usual flat expression. “Are you currently sexually active?” I stared right into his gorgeous eyes above his surgical mask. “You were my boyfriend, shouldn’t you know?” After a beat of silence, Liam said coldly, “Miss Bennett, I feel the need to remind you that we broke up three months ago.” He had never used such a distant, icy tone with me. My nose stung, and I almost dropped a tear. “I’m not… not right now. I’ll figure that out after the implant.” I had actually heard the implant helped with severe period cramps, which is why I wanted it. But clearly, Liam got the wrong idea. As he wrote up my lab orders, he said with a stony face, “For your health, I recommend using barrier methods even after the implant.” Based on past experience, I was almost positive he was mad. I took the slip Liam gave me, walked a lap around the hallway, and circled back. I found him facing away from the door, his head slightly bowed as he spoke to a young girl in a hospital gown. “I reviewed your labs. All your numbers are normal. You can be discharged today.” His voice was so gentle—a complete 180 from how he had just spoken to me. The girl said softly, “Then, Dr. Carter, can I still come visit you after I’m discharged?” Her eyes sparkled as she looked at him, completely failing to hide her massive crush. I froze in place. My chest filled with a sour, aching pain. My mind went blank; I didn’t even hear what Liam said in response. By the time I snapped out of it, the girl was gone. Liam stood a few steps away, looking at me with cool indifference. “Come here.” I walked back into the exam room. He glanced at the unpaid billing slip in my hand and said flatly, “The blood draw doesn’t hurt. Get the bloodwork done, and then I can schedule the procedure.” I was terrified of pain. He knew that. I suddenly reached out and grabbed his wrist. “I don’t need it. I actually just came to see you today.” He leaned against the desk in his white coat. The mask hid half his face, leaving only those sharp, cool eyes staring back at me. “See me for what?” There was zero emotion in his voice, like he really didn’t want me there. I sniffled and said out of sheer spite, “Oh, I came to drop off my invitation. I want you at my wedding.” 3 The air froze. Liam closed his eyes, then opened them again. He pulled his mask down, his voice chillingly cold. “Hand it over, then.” Obviously, there was no invitation. I grabbed my purse, blindly rummaged around inside it for a second, and muttered, “Forgot it at home.” The corner of his mouth twitched in the faintest smirk, and he turned to walk away. Without thinking, I tugged at the hem of his coat. “Who was that girl you were just talking to?” “My patient.” Liam stopped and looked back at me. “Miss Bennett, I’m on the clock. If you aren’t here for medical care, please leave.” His eyes were like a perfectly still, freezing lake. It seemed nothing could ruffle him. The only time I had ever seen him lose his composure was two months into our relationship. It was our first kiss. I initiated it. When we pulled apart, he was trying to catch his breath. The look in his eyes was like shattered starlight. Under the warm yellow glow of the streetlamp, he pulled me by the waist, pressed his face against my ear, and whispered my name. “Chloe.” I had never met anyone like him. Just hearing him say my name made my heart race and my knees weak. Now that we were broken up, would there come a day when he looked at another girl like that? Just imagining it made me want to cry. My voice trembled. “Are you going to date her?” “Who?” “Your patient.” He didn’t answer. My heart plummeted. I turned around and forced myself to walk toward the exit. But Liam chased after me and grabbed my arm. Seeing my blurry, tear-filled eyes, he sighed. “No.” “Liam, do you think I’m annoying?” “No.” He glanced down at the watch on his wrist. “It’s my lunch break. I’ll drive you home.” My heart leaped, and I quickly agreed. Sitting in Liam’s car, I was surrounded by his familiar, clean scent. He didn’t smoke. The car smelled crisp and pure, just like him. I scrambled for a topic. “Have you been busy these last few months?” “The usual,” he said, turning to give me a quick glance. His tone was perfectly neutral. “Though it seems you’ve been living it up.” “I have not!” I rushed to defend myself. “My cramps have been worse than ever lately. It’s been awful.” He let out a heavy sigh, sounding almost helpless. “I told you before, no ice or cold drinks the week before and during your period. And what did you do? You’ve been drinking iced boba every other day. Of course you’re in pain.” He knew I was drinking iced boba? Did that mean he had zoomed in on every single one of my Stories, right down to the labels on my cups? I perked up immediately, putting on my best pitiful pout. “Well, you weren’t around to supervise me.” The moment those words left my mouth, the air in the car thickened. Looking at the tight line of Liam’s jaw, reality finally caught up with me. We were broken up. But I still loved him. Liam pulled up to the entrance of my apartment complex. “We’re here. Get out.” I tried to invite him in. “Want to come up for a bit? My mom isn’t home. I got new bedsheets, they’re really pretty.” Liam kept one hand on the steering wheel, turned to look at me, and said, word by word, “If you’re getting married, why are you coming back to mess with my head?” “Chloe Bennett, I am not your toy.” He had taken my spiteful lie seriously. Seeing the ice in his eyes, I finally realized I might have… taken the joke too far. “…I’m not getting married. I made that up,” I mumbled, tugging at his sleeve. “I came to the hospital because I just wanted to see you.” He pressed his lips together. “Who did you go to the arcade with the other day?” “My cousin,” I lied smoothly. Liam’s hand twitched slightly. Then he unlocked the doors. “Let’s go.” I blinked. “Go where?” “I still have thirty minutes before my shift. Didn’t you want me to walk you to your door?” My dreary mood instantly lit up. I gave a loud, cheerful “Okay!” and hopped out of the car. I tentatively reached out to loop my arm through his. He didn’t reject me. Instead, he grabbed my wrist and angled his body slightly, just like he used to, so I could hold onto him comfortably. He had taken off his white coat, revealing a soft white cotton shirt underneath. Pressing against his arm felt warm and reassuring, sending a rush of heat straight to my heart. Just as I was about to say something, a familiar voice rang out. “Hey, Chloe.” I looked up. It was Ethan. He jogged over carrying a bag of sodas. Before he could say another word, I loudly cut him off. “Hey, Cousin! What are you doing here today?” Ethan stared at me. I stared back, widening my eyes and silently begging him to play along. He raised an eyebrow, a knowing smirk spreading across his face. “Came to see my favorite older cousin, obviously.” He extended a hand toward Liam. “Hi. I’m Chloe’s cousin.” Liam’s mouth set into a hard line. He briefly shook Ethan’s hand and pulled back immediately. He looked at me, his voice devoid of warmth. “Since your cousin is here, I’m heading back to work.” I clutched my phone, waving at him reluctantly. “Okay. Text me back later, then.” Liam gave a curt “Okay” and walked away. I stared after him until his silhouette disappeared past the gates. Then, Ethan’s voice drifted into my ear. “Hate to see him go, huh, Cuz?” I spun around. Ethan was smiling down at me, his youthful face entirely too close. He was objectively good-looking, but I wasn’t into him. “Thanks for playing along,” I said. “But I’m going to make it clear to my mom—I’m not interested in your type.” Ethan blinked, probably not expecting me to be so brutally honest. He looked down at me and laughed. “Well, that’s a shame. Because I think I’m very interested in your type.” I patted him on the head. “Good boy.” Ethan: “?” “Stop trying so hard to be a player at your age. It’s cringey.” With that, I swung my purse over my shoulder and marched away. 4 I met Zoe for dinner and immediately made my announcement: “I’m going to win Liam back.” “Why?” “Because I love him.” She looked at me like I was an idiot. “If you love him, why did you dump him?” “Because he was so busy he forgot my birthday, he didn’t text me back, and he flaked on our dates a million times…” My voice trailed off into a depressed whisper. “But it’s been three months, and I miss him so much.” “So, if you win him back, are those problems magically going to disappear? Is he suddenly going to be free for your birthdays, never miss a date, and text you back instantly?” I couldn’t argue with that. Zoe and I were best friends, but we were polar opposites. I was dramatic, high-maintenance, and impulsive. She was calm, perceptive, and cut right to the core of everything. “Liam is a doctor. He’s busy, and he’s probably going to be busy for the rest of his life.” “You, on the other hand, don’t even have a 9-to-5. You finish a few illustration commissions a month, and the rest of your time is completely free. Chloe, you need a guy who can be by your side 24/7. And he is never going to be that guy.” I knew the logic. I didn’t want things to be this way, but… it was Liam. Feeling thoroughly miserable, I waited until Zoe went to the restroom and pulled out my phone. I texted him: Are you on the night shift tonight? A few minutes later, he replied: No. I racked my brain for an excuse. I just remembered I left something at your place. Can I come by tonight to grab it? Sure. I comforted myself with the small victory. Sure was a whole word better than his usual Okay. That was progress. After dinner, I said goodbye to Zoe, went home, changed into a sleek slip dress, and did my makeup. I sprayed on some expensive perfume, making sure I looked like absolute bait, put on my heels, and took an Uber to his place. When I got to his door, I realized he wasn’t home. He wasn’t answering my texts. His phone went straight to voicemail. I stood outside his door like an idiot for half an hour. The longer I waited, the more my feelings hurt, until I was fighting back tears and walking back downstairs. As I passed the courtyard fountain, I noticed a familiar car parked nearby. Before I could process it, two people stepped out. Liam stood there, his back straight, just like always. The night shadows softened his sharp, untouchable vibe, giving him this devastatingly quiet allure. And standing right in front of him, looking up at him while she talked… Wasn’t that his patient? Mia? Was the reason he ignored my calls because she was here? Had he lied to me when he said he wasn’t going to date her? I stood frozen, my mind completely blank, biting my lip so hard it hurt. By the time I snapped out of it, they were already walking down the path on the other side of the courtyard. It must have been too dark; Liam hadn’t seen me. I wanted to run after them and demand answers, but I realized I didn’t even have the right to. The more I thought about it, the more wronged I felt. I pulled out my phone, found the nearest cocktail lounge, and called a ride. At the bar, I took a perfectly angled selfie, heavily filtered it, posted it to my Story, and made sure to tag the location. Honestly, at twenty-six, this was my first time at a place like this by myself. I was secretly terrified. But thinking about Liam lying to me made me so mad I pushed through. I ordered a craft beer I was too scared to drink and stood by the bar, listening to the live band. After a while, a familiar voice popped up behind me. “Well, look who it is. Chloe Bennett. Fancy seeing you here.” It was Ethan. Again. He walked over with a drink, sat next to me, and smiled. I looked at him slowly. “You know…” “Yeah?” “When my mom set us up, she told me you were a sweet, innocent kid.” I glanced at his nearly empty glass. “You’re a really good actor.” He threw his hands up. “I swear on my life, Chloe, this is my first time at a place like this.” I scoffed. But then I realized something. “Why did you stop calling me ‘Cousin’?” “You’re the one who told me not to call you anything weird,” Ethan said, looking wounded. “I’ve never been called ‘cringey’ in my entire life until I met you.” I almost laughed, but then I thought of Liam and the smile died on my lips. I checked my phone. Radio silence. No texts. No likes on my Story. I looked at Ethan. “Since you’re so obedient, do me one more favor?” He leaned in like an oversized golden retriever, his eyes bright. “What is it?” “Take a selfie with me.” I needed to post one more. I leaned in close to Ethan, opened the camera app, and spent way too long finding the perfect angle. Just as my finger hovered over the shutter button, a shadow fell over us, blocking out the already dim lighting. My eyes trailed downward. I saw a pair of pale, long-fingered hands. Moving up, I saw a loose white t-shirt, a defined collarbone with a tiny mole, a sharp jawline, and finally—a familiar, frost-covered face. Liam stared down at me. His mouth twitched into a terrifying half-smile. “Chloe Bennett. You have exactly ten seconds to leave this place with me.” I wanted so badly to act tough and say, You have no right to tell me what to do. But my survival instincts kicked in. He was absolutely furious. I obediently left my untouched beer on the bar and scurried after him. Ethan called my name from behind us. To commit to the bit, I turned around and said sagely: “Cousin, you’re an adult now, and I can’t control you, but be mindful of your reputation. Go home early.” He stared at me in absolute shock. I could read his lips mouthing: Wow. Betrayed. 5 Sitting in Liam’s passenger seat, I discreetly took a deep breath through my nose. No strange perfume. But I still decided to strike first. “Why did you lie to me?” Liam’s voice was ice. “When have I ever lied to you?” He sounded so mean, my eyes instantly welled up. “You lied! You said she was just your patient and you weren’t going to date her, but you brought her to your apartment!” Liam froze. He frowned. “You were outside my building earlier?” Ha! Look how fast he panicked. He was definitely guilty. I glared at him, tears threatening to spill. “Yes! I called and texted and you ignored me. I waited downstairs and saw you bring her home—if you moved on, why didn’t you just tell me? Did you really think I’d stalk you?” “Wouldn’t you?” “…” I choked on my words. Realizing that I had dumped him and was now the one tracking him down, I definitely looked like a stalker. I closed my eyes and decided to just be completely unreasonable. “If you knew I was going to be crazy about it, why did you fall for someone else?! Aren’t you afraid I’ll crash your wedding?” “I didn’t fall for anyone else, and I didn’t bring anyone home.” Liam’s fingers tapped rhythmically against the steering wheel. “Mia blocked my car at the gate. Her clothes were torn and she was bleeding. I told her to wait downstairs while I went up to get a jacket and a first-aid kit, and then we waited for her parents to pick her up.” “As for my phone… I forgot to charge it.” He paused. “I assumed you’d just wait inside the apartment.” My tears stopped falling, but I still sniffled out a complaint. “You weren’t home. How was I supposed to wait?” Liam rubbed his temples. A flash of pure exhaustion crossed his eyes. “I never deleted your fingerprint from the door lock. You could have just walked in.” I froze. A weird, swollen ache bloomed in my chest, expanding until it turned into a heat that rushed straight to my ears. Flustered, I looked away and scanned the console. Next to the gearshift was a half-empty pack of cigarettes and a lighter. When did he start smoking? While I was distracted, Liam spoke again. “Since you saw me, why didn’t you just come ask me? Chloe, just because you thought I lied to you, you decided to go to a bar with another guy to get back at me?” “T-that was my cousin…” The rest of my sentence was slaughtered by his sharp, freezing glare. Liam leaned in, inch by inch, locking his eyes onto mine. A mocking smile touched his lips. “Is he? Is he really your cousin, Chloe?” My throat closed up. I couldn’t speak. “When the matchmaker set us up, I read your file. It explicitly said you had a small, simple family tree. We dated for six months. I met your mother multiple times. Do you honestly think I don’t know whether or not you have a cousin?” My heart cracked at the sheer hurt in his eyes. A sharp pang radiated through my chest, making my fingertips go numb. “Then… why did you…” “Why didn’t I call you out?” He let out a self-deprecating laugh. “Because I was avoiding reality. I was holding onto this fantasy that if I pretended not to know you were lying, you’d keep clinging to me like you used to, and maybe…” He didn’t finish. He closed his eyes and turned his head away. His long lashes cast a shadow over his cheekbones. His jaw was clenched tight. I had never seen him look so fragile, so lost. My heart ached with guilt, but at the same time, I couldn’t help but be mesmerized by him. A moment later, I found my voice. I whispered: “I admit it, Ethan isn’t my cousin. I lied because I was scared you’d be mad. My mom set us up after we broke up, but I don’t like him. I told him straight to his face I wasn’t interested.” I reached into my purse for my phone. “If you don’t believe me, I’ll call him right now and make him confess.” “Don’t.” Liam pressed his lips together. His gaze drifted down to my slip dress and the dramatic makeup I had put on to look pathetic. His voice was hoarse. “Then why did you dress like this to go to a bar with him?” “I went by myself. Running into him was a total accident,” I said pitifully. “And I didn’t dress like this for him. I dressed like this to seduce you.” The air in the car stopped moving. A second later, Liam’s hand wrapped around the back of my neck. As if he had finally lost his mind, he pulled me in and kissed me hard. It was a deeply aggressive kiss. His breath was hot, his eyelashes brushing against my skin. His warm fingers tangled in my hair, the temperature rising rapidly. …God help me. “Chloe.” He pulled back slightly, refusing to put too much distance between us. His other hand tilted my chin up as he studied my face. A moment later, he crashed his lips into mine again. That impenetrable wall of calm detachment was entirely shattered. He looked like a god who had finally fallen to earth, tortured by human desire. By the time he stopped, my legs were jello. Through a haze, I looked up at him and heard him ask: “Chloe, do you want to get back together?” I gripped his shirt with whatever strength I had left. Hearing those words, I nodded without a second of hesitation. “Yes.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “409924”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

When Aaron proposed we break up for the Nth time, I was pulling an all-nighter finishing a quarterly performance review. “Maya, you have 20 minutes to get down to the club and apologize. Otherwise, we are done.” I immediately felt a wave of exhaustion. “This review is crucial for my promotion. Can you please throw a tantrum some other day?” He replied casually, “Tantrum? If your job is more important to you than me, then let’s break up.” “Fine, you know I’m petty.” “It only takes one phone call from me to make sure you never get that promotion.” I forcefully slammed my phone down, but a row of floating text—like comments on a live stream—suddenly appeared before my eyes. [You don’t think the female lead is actually going to take the male lead’s harsh words seriously, do you? He’s actually planning to surprise her; he secretly pulled strings to guarantee her promotion ages ago.] [As long as the female lead shows she’s willing to sacrifice her career for him, the male lead would hand over the CEO position to her. He’d never bear to ruin her future.] [Us folks with an avoidant attachment style are just like this! We say we don’t want it, but we secretly crave it. We just rely on our partner holding on for dear life.] [The male lead is literally standing by the door right now, waiting for the female lead to take a cab over and coax him. This angsty, bittersweet romance is so addictive.] I was skeptical, half-tempted to go out and find him. Then, a text popped up. “I heard Ms. Maya’s promotion is off the table. Interested in jumping ship?” 01 I stared at the bizarre message, thinking hard. After confirming it wasn’t a prank text, I still had no clue who this person with the little wing emoji next to their name could be. Was it an alt account Aaron made to test me? But immediately, I dismissed that idea. Aaron was too arrogant; he’d never stoop to testing me like that. In our ten years together, I was always the one to yield and compromise first. We’d played out this exact scenario—me taking a cab to win him back—countless times. My unwavering favoritism had always made him feel completely secure. So who sent the message? The floating comments instantly provided the answer. [The male lead’s nemesis is actually trying to steal his girl! He just overheard the male lead making that call while hiding in the bar’s restroom. As soon as he walked out, he contacted the female lead. He moves fast.] [Not only is the female lead the male lead’s lover, she’s also a key talent at Sterling Corp. Of course Carter is going to try to poach her while competing for the CEO spot.] [To the person above, are you telling me Carter, the arrogant CEO who spends every night fantasizing about venting his frustrations with the female lead, isn’t doing this out of personal interest?] I narrowed my eyes. So it was Carter. In the last bidding war, I led the team that beat Carter’s company. At the evening reception, people urged us to exchange contact info to facilitate future business communications. At the time, he didn’t even spare me a glance. I stood next to him, my smile almost freezing on my face, before he finally, with a cold expression, handed over his phone to scan my QR code. I originally thought he would delete my contact as soon as he got home; I didn’t expect him to keep it. But I only half-believed what the comments were saying. Aaron never hid our relationship, but in public, he always maintained the icy demeanor of a superior. To an uninformed observer, in his eyes, I was just a corporate drone making a measly salary. That’s why Carter loved to mock Aaron. “Finding a drone who will sleep with you for free… Mr. Sterling truly is an outstanding businessman.” Carter looked down on me. His extending an olive branch to me now looked suspiciously like an attempt to disgust Aaron. I ignored his message. Then, I saw a voice message from Aaron’s assistant. “Maya, please hurry over. Mr. Sterling is drunk and refuses to leave.” He also sent a video of Aaron throwing a fit. I hesitated for a moment. I was just about to change my clothes and head out when I stopped dead in my tracks. Yes, Chloe’s coquettish laugh clearly rang out at the 30-second mark of the video. [The male lead is pulling this stunt again. To make the female lead nervous, he intentionally called the second female lead over.] [Who can blame him? The female lead always falls for it. Every time he scares her like this, she loses her mind with worry.] [Hurry up and go out, female lead! I swear on my premium membership, as long as you’re willing to go over there, apologize, and coax him, tonight he’ll be on his knees waiting for your little leather whip.] [I understand the male lead so well. Seeing his girlfriend in utter agony because he threatened to break up makes him feel incredibly powerful. It makes him feel like she loves him so much.] I froze. So the floating comments really weren’t a hallucination. The “female lead” they were talking about was me, and the “male lead” was Aaron. Aaron did exactly what they said—always threatening to break up, waiting for me to win him back. If I didn’t go, he would find all sorts of ways to have people around us pressure me. But if I did go, he wouldn’t immediately soften up either. Last time, I took an overnight Amtrak train just to coax him. I pushed open the door, travel-worn and exhausted, and he didn’t even look at me. Instead, he pressed himself tightly against Chloe. “Who told you guys to call her here? Weren’t you being so tough, insisting on breaking up?” But the very next second, his body honestly betrayed him; he immediately stuck to me and held my hand to leave. That night, he kept me up making love seven times. The next day, he overcompensated by buying me designer bags and booking trips. I once asked him, if he tortured me like this, wasn’t he afraid I’d run away? He rested his head against my collarbone and acted spoiled. “My wife would never leave me over something so small.” “Maya, as long as you take one step towards me, I will always take the remaining 99 steps towards you.” But what he didn’t know was that being constantly tortured like this… I didn’t even want to take a single step anymore. This kind of exhausting love, I didn’t have the energy for it anymore. Seeing that I hadn’t replied, his assistant kept calling to rush me. I hesitated, debating whether to coax him one more time. Just then, Chloe sent me a message. “Aaron said you don’t need to come; he’s going to stay and watch the sunrise with me!” She sent a short video clip. “Aaron, Maya still isn’t here. Are you really going to break up with her?” Aaron took a huge gulp of liquor. “We’re done. Don’t mention her.” “Haven’t you always said you wanted me to watch the sunrise with you? Let’s go.” From the corner of his eye, he glanced at the camera lens. Obviously, he knew Chloe was recording. I took a deep breath and forcefully tossed my phone aside. I went back to optimizing my performance review presentation. Rather than believing the comments claiming Aaron had already secretly secured my promotion, I’d rather rely on my own abilities. I wasn’t like Aaron or Chloe, born with a silver spoon in my mouth. Poor as I was, I had to rely on myself to seize every opportunity. 02 Aaron didn’t come home all night. I also suffered from insomnia the entire night. The next day, when I walked into the office with a heavy heart, Aaron had arrived early. Impeccably dressed, completely unsmiling. The oppressive aura of the CEO radiated from him, overwhelming everything else. He was like a completely different person from the childish, erratic man he was last night. I nervously finished my presentation. When it ended, he applauded along with everyone else. The look he gave me could even be called calm and friendly. I was puzzled. Could it be that because I didn’t coax him, he was actually fine now? After the meeting ended, I noticed a small gift on everyone’s desk. The CFO next to me had stars in her eyes. “Wow, having a CEO boyfriend is so great. His girlfriend gets promoted, and he gives everyone a gift.” The administrative assistant cleared her throat. “This is from the new Executive Assistant. It’s a ‘nice to meet you’ gift for everyone.” The CFO was shocked. “A limited-edition perfume as a ‘nice to meet you’ gift for everyone?” “What kind of new method is this for trust-fund kids to flex on corporate drones?!” The administrative assistant shot me an uneasy glance. She quietly pulled the CFO aside: “The new assistant is the only daughter of our major client, the White family.” “Mr. Sterling paid for the gifts. He said he was helping his childhood friend make a good impression.” So it was Chloe. I understood instantly. Chloe had always wanted to use working at Sterling Corp as an excuse to get close to Aaron. The White family had also repeatedly proposed an alliance, hoping the two of them would marry to join forces. Because of me, Aaron had always refused to agree. But after one night, he actually consented. He even let her work in the executive suite as his personal assistant. A position that even I, as his official girlfriend, wasn’t allowed to hold. I tried my hardest not to think about what had happened between them last night. I opened a file, preparing to focus on work. A colleague told me Aaron needed to see me. I happened to need to see him too, so I headed straight for the executive suite. As soon as I walked in, I saw Chloe sitting on Aaron’s desk, her back to me. Her slim waist, accentuated by a tight pencil skirt, was resting loosely against Aaron’s hand. A sharp pain shot through my palm. I never thought the day would come when I’d see Aaron being so intimate with someone else. I let out a light cough, startling Chloe so much she jumped away. Chloe turned around and saw it was me. The smile instantly vanished from her face. She pouted: “You’ve worked here for years, don’t you know you need to knock before entering a room?” I was slightly taken aback. Entering Aaron’s office, I had never considered knocking. “Excuse me. Next time you guys are doing something inconvenient, remember to lock the door.” Aaron had been waiting to see me lose my temper. Hearing my words, his expression shifted slightly. But his face remained remarkably calm. “Did you need something, Mr. Sterling?” He answered calmly, “Your promotion has been tabled by the board of directors for now.” Chloe shot me a victorious look. I looked down at my toes and gave a small “Hmm.” He really didn’t lie to me. Just because I didn’t coax him, he reached out and halted my promotion. My chest felt like it was being crushed by a boulder, making it hard to breathe. My eyes involuntarily stung with unshed tears. Thankfully, I had the heads-up from the floating comments. Right now, I could still force myself to maintain composure. “Oh, understood.” Neither of us spoke; the atmosphere was dead silent. “If you want to fight for it…” I interrupted him, “I don’t. If there’s nothing else, I’ll be leaving.” I quickly turned around, but he called out to stop me. “Also, the Chicago project will be handled by Chloe from now on. You don’t need to worry about it. Do a handover with her today.” I whipped my head back around. “What did you say?” I had spent six grueling months preparing for the Chicago project, going without a day off for months just for it. At one point, the pressure was so intense I had to take a handful of pills every night just to get a few hours of sleep. This project was my hope. I wanted to use it to show everyone my capabilities. So they wouldn’t just think of me as someone who climbed the ladder through nepotism by dating Aaron. Aaron knew about my obsession with it. He even secretly helped me secure resources and played a supporting role. Seeing that the project was on the verge of success, he was actually telling me to hand it over to Chloe! “Chloe just joined the company; she needs a project to establish her footing.” “The Chicago project has high visibility and is about to show results. It’s perfect for her to practice on.” I fought back tears and asked him, “You know perfectly well this project is my life.” “Why are you treating me like this!” He laughed vindictively. “I told you, I’m petty and I hold grudges.” “Besides, I’m the boss. I don’t need your permission to assign a project to someone.” “If you’re not satisfied, you’re welcome to resign anytime.” Chloe covered her mouth and giggled. I looked at them both coldly. One reveling in my misfortune, the other exuding absolute calm. Both were certain I wouldn’t bear to let go. “Fine, then I resign.” Aaron’s smile vanished. He stared at me in disbelief. He raised his voice. “Maya, don’t think that just because you’re my girlfriend, you have special privileges to throw a tantrum.” “Don’t think I really won’t let you leave!” I looked at him coldly. “Mr. Sterling must be so busy he forgot we broke up?” He choked on his words. Chloe, seeing the tension between us, couldn’t help but smirk. Then she put on a troubled act. “Aaron, let’s just forget it. Don’t fight over me.” She smiled provocatively. “I’m clumsy. What if I mess up the project and waste Manager Maya’s hard work?” He affectionately patted Chloe’s head. “It doesn’t matter if you mess it up. It’s a small project, nothing to worry about.” All the blood in my body rushed to my head. It took every ounce of strength I had to suppress the urge to charge forward and hit them. But my palms were already clenched so tightly they were bleeding. “A company that uses projects to curry favor with a woman isn’t worth staying at anyway. “Consider my years of hard work here as feeding the dogs.” Chloe angrily put her hands on her hips. “Who are you calling a dog?” I sneered. “Who the dog is, you know perfectly well.” “Maya!” Aaron’s face was livid. I turned around and left without looking back. 03 I walked back to my desk like a zombie. Only when no one was looking did my tears finally flood out. The comments appeared again. [The female lead is so foolish! Just now, the male lead was putting on an act specifically for you. The moment you left, he kicked Chloe out.] [The male lead just wanted to see her get jealous and soften up. He didn’t expect the female lead to be so incredibly stubborn, willing to resign just to prove a point.] [If you’re dating someone in power, you have to be willing to swallow your pride. She wants to stand tall and make money? You can’t have your cake and eat it too.] [The female lead has no sense of reality. Without this job, who’s going to pay the medical bills for her seriously ill mother? Can her pride be exchanged for cold, hard cash?] The comments were right. My mother’s illness relied entirely on astronomically expensive imported medication to keep her alive. The salary Aaron paid me had constantly supported my mother’s medication. If the prescription lapsed, my only remaining family member in this world would leave me. Just as my heart ached over the money, Aaron, in a rare move, initiated a text message. “Come over and apologize to Chloe, and I might consider giving the project back to you.” “I’ll also give you Sterling Corp’s new projects for the second half of the year.” “And your company credit card, come get it yourself.” This was Aaron’s first time backing down. The comments also pleaded on his behalf. [The male lead is finally willing to bow his head. Heaven knows how much this arrogant guy is struggling internally right now.] [Us avoidant-attachment folks are moved! Only if we love someone so much are we willing to bow our heads! Female lead, cherish this!] [Besides his ‘say one thing, mean another’ attitude, the male lead is rich, handsome, and deeply devoted. The female lead should cherish what she has and not push him away completely.] It’s true. Aaron, aside from being a drama king, was undeniably good to me. If I could just endure this one flaw, he could be considered an excellent boyfriend. But I still refused without hesitation. “I submitted my resignation letter to the HR Director today.” It took him a long time to reply: “Are you serious?” “Yes, don’t come begging me later.” “Don’t regret this later. You threw away a perfectly good relationship and job because of your stubbornness.” I buried my face in my desk and cried silently. I was heartbroken over our ten-year relationship, and I was reluctant to leave the job. But even more, I couldn’t accept Aaron treating me this way. He had a black hole in his heart regarding love, and every time he needed to fill it, he used the method of torturing me. I couldn’t see the end of this darkness. Nor could I make peace with it. Instead of being in constant pain, it was better if I was the one to end it. 04 I sent my resignation letter, then pulled up Carter’s contact on my phone. “Mr. Carter, is your offer still on the table?” He replied instantly: “It’s on the table, but Aaron’s girlfriend is excluded.” Me: “Already broken up, already resigned.”

While walking my dog in the neighborhood, a handsome guy driving a Maybach asked if the dog was for sale. I said, “Not on his own.” He hesitated, looked at me for a few seconds, and drove off. Both the dog and I stared longingly at his receding taillights. I cursed in utter frustration, “I’ll sell him on his own! I’ll sell him on his own! Damn it! What a jerk, he wasn’t even serious about buying!” Who knew his car would actually come to a stop, and then the door opened… The dog instantly broke free from my grip and bolted right in. The handsome guy looked at dumbfounded me and asked, “Aren’t you going to bolt in too?” 01 Walking the dog around the neighborhood, my Samoyed, Yeti, was acting like a total maniac, sprinting with all his might! Holding the leash, I ran behind him, nearly dying of exhaustion. Then, as we ran to the busy road outside our subdivision, he suddenly stopped, staring at the endless stream of cars, drooling. We both stared together. Both of us dreaming of striking it rich. Yeti has this one specific trait: he is incredibly snobbish and materialistic. He absolutely loves luxury cars. Time and time again, he’s tried to climb into the passenger seat of high-end vehicles, ready to abandon me and live the good life. But I keep a tight grip on him. I’ve never let him succeed. 02 Right now, he was gazing eagerly at those luxury cars, looking utterly pathetic and wronged. We live in a standard middle-class complex. Across the street is a high-end gated community. There’s also a massive area of luxury estates nearby, so there are a ton of high-end cars around. I said to Yeti, “Yeti, stop looking. I’m definitely not letting you go off and live the good life without me.” He rolled his eyes at me. I chuckled to myself. It was like he actually understood what I was saying. I tugged his leash. “Let’s go. To the park. We still have to run a lap around the park today.” He wouldn’t budge. Suddenly, a Mercedes-Maybach S680 Haute Voiture pulled up right in front of us. 03 Both Yeti and I were completely stunned by the magnificent car. And then we were stunned again by the incredibly handsome, almost ethereally beautiful face behind the lowering window! Holy crap. Nowadays, guys can actually drive Maybachs just on their looks alone. What excuse did Yeti and I have for not trying harder! People who are better looking than you are working even harder than you. I made a decision. When I got back, I was giving Yeti a full grooming makeover. The handsome guy slowly exhaled a smoke ring, looking from me to Yeti. Yeti and I were both watching him with buzzing excitement. I was even thinking about how to get his number—maybe he could introduce me to a single, rich, handsome friend. While the two of us and the dog were in this standoff, the handsome guy spoke first. “Hey beautiful, is the dog for sale?” 04 Yeti was so excited he started chasing his own tail on the spot, completely losing his mind with joy. He whined, trying to act cute for the guy, then barked loudly at me, pulling with all his might to break the leash. I was furious. I raised this dog for nothing. But I put on my gentlest, most charming smile. “Not on his own.” I pointed to the dog, then to myself. “It has to be a package deal.” Handsome Guy: “Tying sales is an unfair business practice. It violates antitrust laws.” He looked like he was ready to step on the gas and leave. In a moment of desperation, I let out a loud ‘Woof!’ and asked, “Handsome, which one do you want to buy?” Yeti was utterly enraged. He started barking furiously at me, cursing me out in filthy dog language. I pretended not to hear him. The handsome guy shook his head, rolled up the window, and gorgeously… drove off! 05 Yeti and I were completely dumbfounded. He stopped barking. I stopped being a smartass. We watched the Maybach’s taillights, feeling like even the exhaust fumes it emitted carried the sweet fragrance of money. This was the closest we had ever been to true wealth. Once I snapped out of it, I immediately started yelling at the car that was already far away: “I’ll sell him on his own! On his own! Damn it! What a jerk, he wasn’t even serious about buying!” “Son of a bitch, does he think he can just brush me off because he’s good-looking? Does he think I only care about his money? Pfft! I’m definitely not a gold digger!” “Even if God gave me another chance, I would still firmly say—” The car slowly came to a stop again. Just then, a city bus pulled up in front of me, and the driver yelled out, “Miss, no dogs allowed on the bus.” I looked over and realized the Maybach had just stopped right in the bus lane… I stuck my tongue out, apologized to the bus driver, and quickly chased after Yeti. 06 The handsome guy opened the passenger door, and Yeti instantly bolted inside. I wanted to bolt in too, but an 80-pound large dog was already sitting in the passenger seat. There was no room left for me. The guy opened the driver’s door and got out. Wow. Not only did he have a gorgeous face, but he was also really tall. Nowadays, the standards for marrying a sugar daddy are getting really high. How could I possibly pull that off! The handsome guy looked at me and smiled. When he smiled, it was absolutely soul-stealing. I said firmly, “Bro, I’ll sell him alone. Just him. Let me know where you live, I can come with you and stay with him for a bit so he can get adjusted. Let’s exchange numbers, I can text you all his habits and routines.” Handsome Guy: “Emma Davis, do you really not recognize me?” My eyes went as wide as saucers. I actually didn’t remember such a handsome classmate. I really wanted to slap myself across the face. Come on, stupid brain, think! Who exactly is he? I put on a face of sudden realization, exclaiming with pleasant surprise, “Oh! It’s you! Oh my god, I didn’t expect it to be you! What a coincidence, running into you here! Good lord!” He was also pleasantly surprised: “I really didn’t expect to run into you right after moving back!” 07 I asked, “Oh my god, you graduated and moved back? You’re doing great!” He smiled: “Not as good as you. You got such great grades. Even if you didn’t go out of state, you still got into a great university.” It seemed he was a high school classmate whose grades weren’t as good as mine. No wonder I didn’t recognize him. Who is this guy? I racked my brain, then asked, “So, are you working now?” He thought for a moment and said, “I guess you could say that.” I warmly invited him: “Then hurry up and get into the grind. The economy is ‘great’ right now, you can even work on weekends. A thousand bucks for a whole week of work. We really picked a fantastic time to join the workforce.” He started laughing out loud: “You’re still as cute as ever.” ??? Who is he? Even after dragging the unsold Yeti back home, I still hadn’t remembered who he was. Did he get plastic surgery? I need to ask which plastic surgery clinic he went to. It was way too successful. I had absolutely zero impression of him. 08 Luckily, we exchanged numbers and added each other on socials. But his profile showed we had actually added each other a few years ago. Back then, I had just gone off to college, gained my freedom, and was extremely guarded. I rejected all requests from strangers. He had actually requested to follow me several times. Oh my god, I really was an ignorant, self-righteous little nun back then. I searched his name on my contacts and, sure enough, he was in the high school alumni group chat. But not in my specific homeroom group. It seemed he was a classmate from the same graduating class. I quickly took a screenshot of his profile and sent it to my best friend, Sarah, asking who he was. Sarah replied instantly: “Whoa, how did you get curious about him?” Me: “??? Is he a big deal? Do I know him?” I told her about running into him today. Sarah laughed for a good while before saying, “He was a total legend at our school! But back then, you only cared about studying, so even if I told you, you wouldn’t have paid attention.” So I didn’t know him, right? Turns out he was Oliver Stone from the AP Honors track. 09 I knew his name, but I had never seen the guy in person. In our high school, students were split into different tracks. I was in the standard college prep track. Back then, I had heard rumors about Oliver Stone. They were always about how ridiculously good-looking he was, how rich his family was, or gossip about girls obsessing over him. I never heard anything about his grades being amazing. After all, back then I was obsessed with my GPA. If someone wasn’t in the top 20 of our graduating class, I didn’t bother knowing them. Know your enemy, know yourself, and you will win a hundred battles, right? Plus, if people’s grades are similar, you have more to talk about, like discussing difficult test questions. And after graduation, I actually kept in touch with those top students quite a bit. As for other people, I really wasn’t interested. My parents were also very strict about my friends back then. If I hung out with kids who didn’t have good grades, my parents would scold me, ground me, and confiscate my phone. If I hung out with kids who had straight A’s, my parents were completely fine with it. At that time, I was at an age where I would scoff at handsome guys, thinking they were a distraction that ruined ambition. I thought, what was the use of being good-looking? What mattered was studying hard and getting into a top-tier college. And when classmates gossiped, I didn’t like to listen. I thought it was a waste of time. I’d rather go do a few practice tests. I was quite arrogant, thinking I was refined and above it all, not like those busybodies who loved to gossip about who liked who. Looking back now, I really was a total fun-killer, completely brainwashed by the system. 10 The next day, Oliver sent me a message: “Want to walk the dog?” I looked at his message, biting my finger and giggling like an idiot. I had already started dreaming that because we walked dogs together, we would fall in love over time, he would finally marry me, my dowry would be a dog, and we would live happily ever after. But my mom shattered my dream with a smack to the arm. She snapped angrily, “Hurry up and put your makeup on. Stop dawdling. The older you get, the more trouble you are.” Today was Sunday. My mom was taking me on a blind date. It was the nephew of a colleague at her government agency. He also worked a stable civil service job. I chose a photo of Yeti and sent it to Oliver, then replied: “I have to head out right now. No time to walk him.” He replied instantly: “Then I’ll walk him for you?” I looked at Yeti’s silly, blank expression and considered the very real possibility of him being dognapped. My worry for Yeti won over my desire for extreme wealth. I said, “Tomorrow. I’ll walk him tomorrow and come find you. Around 6:15 to 7:15 PM.” He replied instantly: “Sounds good.” After thinking about it, I added: “Don’t feed him for half an hour before the walk. When he gets the zoomies, I’m afraid he’ll run you so hard you’ll throw up.” 11 The blind date was manageable. By the book, and he was very enthusiastic. My mom was quite satisfied with his family’s background. His mom had passed away, and his dad had some influence and could probably pull strings to get me a promotion down the line. Both our families only had one child. If we got married, with family subsidies and both of us working stable government jobs, it would be a divine, stress-free life. At least, that’s how my mom pitched it to me. I shrugged and thought it wasn’t bad either. Except for the fact that his incredibly average face didn’t spark any romantic feelings whatsoever. A marriage like this always felt like it was missing a little something. My mom said to me, “What’s the use of a man being good-looking! You can’t eat a handsome face. You just need someone average-looking. That’s the kind of guy who will be honest and settle down to live a quiet life with you.” I didn’t understand what kind of “quiet life” I was supposed to be settling down for. And, who says a man’s good looks are useless? Oliver Stone was driving an S680! Well, although it was his family’s money. But even if he didn’t have money, with that face, I’d be willing to pay for his meals. 12 After work the next day, I rode my electric scooter home, then put Yeti on his leash to meet Oliver at the subdivision entrance. He arrived before us, wearing a white casual athleisure outfit. He even brought dog treats for Yeti. Yeti was instantly bought and paid for. I asked him, “Do you live around here?” He pointed to a luxury estate a few blocks down: “Over there. Just moved in recently.” I was so envious I was practically drooling. I said, “It must be so nice to be your dog, living in a mansion.” He smiled, looking radiant and handsome. He said, “Why don’t you say it would be nice to be my girlfriend or wife?” I scratched my head: “Didn’t you want to buy the dog?” He took the leash from my hand. “I also want to find a girlfriend.” “Are you single?” His eyes went wide. “If I wasn’t single, would I be hitting on you?” I still held onto my original point: “Didn’t you want to buy the dog?” “So you really want to be sold to me along with Yeti?” He thought for two seconds. “Why don’t you name a price?” And then we both started laughing. After laughing, my face turned beet red. I was actually shy. 13 I originally thought this was a great opportunity to cultivate some romance with a handsome guy. I had to be gentle, sweet, and approachable. But as soon as we got to the park, Yeti acted like a rabid dog, running like an absolute maniac! Oliver was caught off guard and nearly got dragged face-first into the dirt. I quickly grabbed the leash back, running with Yeti. My voice drifted back in the wind: “Hurry up and keep up!” And then the two of us were sprinting wildly after Yeti. Every now and then, I would angrily yell: “Yeti Davis! You’re running so fast, you’re going to kill your mother!” “Yeti Davis! I’m going to sell you!” He just ran even happier. In the park, it should have been a handsome guy and a pretty girl walking a dog, looking like a picture-perfect couple enjoying a leisurely stroll. But the reality was, the three of us were running so fast it looked like we were being chased by ghosts… By the end, my hair was a complete rat’s nest looking like a madwoman, and I sat panting heavily on the grass. Yeti flopped onto his back beside me, limbs splayed, demanding I rub his belly. Oliver also sat beside me, wiping the sweat from his face. “I didn’t expect that when you said ‘walking the dog’, this is what it looked like.” Yeti let out an ‘a-woo’, his tongue lolling out, looking at me with total innocence. I petted him. “Yeah. He thinks taking a leisurely stroll down a tree-lined path is beneath him.” “So you have to walk him like this every day?” “My parents are getting older. They absolutely cannot handle him. But when my younger cousin comes over, he helps walk him.” 14 Once we had rested enough, we walked back to my neighborhood. At the entrance, we happened to run into my dad coming home from work. I called out ‘Dad’, and Oliver called out, “Hello, Mr. Davis. I’m Oliver Stone.” My dad sized Oliver up, then said enthusiastically, “Oh, Oliver! Come on, come over to our place for dinner.” I stared at my dad in utter shock. I didn’t expect my dad to be so warm and welcoming to him. Oliver didn’t stand on ceremony either. He said, “Then I’d be honored.” My mom looked at Oliver and asked, “Arthur, did you bring a new intern home again?” My dad works as an engineer for a government contractor and often brings new hires home. My dad said, “Isn’t this the blind date you set Emma up with?” I quickly said, “Not the blind date. He’s a customer who wants to buy Yeti.” Oliver chimed in: “I’m Emma’s high school classmate. We just recently reconnected.” 15 The atmosphere got slightly awkward. But before long, my mom was enthusiastically inviting him inside, and then the demographic interrogation began. Finally, my mom let out a slightly disappointed sigh. This made everyone’s hearts jump into their throats. She concluded: “Let’s eat, let’s eat. Does my cooking suit your taste, Oliver?” Oliver quickly said, “I love this kind of home-cooked food.” My mom said, “Then eat up. Even if the dog sale doesn’t work out, we can still be friends.” Me: ??? Yeti and I looked at each other. He was busy eating the kibble in his bowl, rolling his dead fish eyes, and letting out a pitiful whine. After dinner, Oliver left. My mom said to me, “Sigh, he’s just a little too good-looking. When a man is this handsome, the amount of women throwing themselves at him is definitely not normal. It’s not safe! Better to stick with honest, average guys. Noah is much more reliable.” She added, “His family background is also a little too good. Although our family isn’t bad, it would definitely be reaching out of our league. Tsk tsk tsk, not a matched pair!” I also went “tsk tsk tsk” twice. 16 Because he lived close by, Oliver would come walk the dog with me every few days. He even sent premium groceries over to our house three times: once a whole cooler of fresh seafood, once imported fruit, and once high-end steaks. Every time, the amount was so huge we couldn’t finish it, so my mom had no choice but to give some away to the neighbors. Because of this, whenever my mom cooked something delicious, she’d have me call him over to eat. We truly became neighbors. I was also still chatting with my blind date, Noah. Although every time we texted, we’d run out of things to say in less than 10 messages. Over the weekend, I was shopping at the mall with Sarah, and we happened to see Noah arguing and grabbing at a girl. The girl was crying, pulling on Noah and accusing him: “You need to explain this to me! We dated for 7 years! Now you say we’re breaking up just like that, is that fair to me?!”

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During my first trimester, my husband’s grandmother showed up at our door to lay down the law. She intentionally killed the dog I had raised for three years and made a stew out of it just to sicken me. At the dinner table, she smugly bragged: “Meat from a mutt raised on expensive kibble sure is tender~” After dinner, she tried to force me to kneel and kowtow to a turtle she had kept for forty years, demanding I acknowledge it as my “God-Grandmother.” I obediently played along. What she didn’t know was that while acknowledging a “God-Grandmother” is easy, sending her off is a whole different ballgame! 01 My grandma was a professional contrarian, and my mom was a spitfire. The two of them battled it out their entire lives, ready to throw hands the moment they saw each other. Growing up immersed in their constant warfare, I mastered the art of managing in-law dynamics at a very young age. When people saw me, they stayed out of my way; when dogs saw me, they ran. But unfortunately for my skills, I married into a family of absolute softies. I had a whole arsenal of tactics with nowhere to use them. Life was smooth sailing, and I even gained six pounds. When I went to the clinic to ask about safe ways to lose a little weight, they checked my vitals and told me I was pregnant. The doctor said the first trimester is the most critical time. My in-laws treated me like fragile glass, terrified I might bump into something and hurt the baby. But just as I hit my third month, an old lady showed up at our house. The moment we locked eyes, I knew exactly what I was dealing with. The universally despised family troublemaker had arrived! The way she looked at me was exactly the same way my grandma used to look at my mom—desperate to find a bone in an egg, just looking for an excuse to pick a fight. My usually cheerful mother-in-law, Martha, was pale, currently on her hands and knees, scrubbing the hardwood floor inch by inch with a paper towel. My usually reasonable father-in-law, David, was trembling like a frightened quail, not daring to breathe too loudly as he brewed tea and poured water for her. My husband, Liam, stood there dumbfounded and blurted out: “Grandma!” Then he grabbed my hand and pulled me toward our bedroom. “Honey, pack a bag. We’re going to stay at a hotel for a few days. You’re pregnant, you can’t handle this kind of stress!” My phone chimed with a notification. Three thousand dollars had just been transferred to my account from my in-laws. Their goal was very clear: they wanted us to stay somewhere else for a while. Whenever his grandma decided to head back to her hometown, we could come back. “Is she really that terrifying?” I asked. “Terrifying doesn’t even cover it! She’s an absolute nightmare!” Liam gave me a quick rundown of the old lady’s dark history. When he was six, his grandma cooked the pet rabbit he had been raising for two years and tricked him into eating the meat. After he finished eating, she took him to see the bloody pile of rabbit fur. Liam was terrified and bawled his eyes out. The old lady sat there eating sunflower seeds, spitting the shells right at his face: “It’s just an animal. It died, so what? Are you really crying over it? “You don’t have an ounce of masculinity! Don’t you dare go outside and tell people you’re Agatha’s grandson! “You little brat, remember this: an animal is just an animal. I don’t care if you raised it for two years or twenty, it’s still just an animal. It will never be more important than your family!” When Martha came over to comfort Liam, the old lady kicked her hard in the stomach. “You jinx! Walking around with a long face every day, teaching my grandson useless nonsense. So a rabbit died, big deal! Are you trying to kill me, you old woman?” That single kick caused Martha to miscarry. It was a three-month-old female fetus. Martha wept uncontrollably in the hospital. The old lady sat at home, smoking her pipe, feeling completely justified: “It was just a money-losing girl. She’s gone, so she’s gone. What’s there to cry about?” David was furious and went to confront her: “That was your own granddaughter!” The old lady scoffed: “What ‘own granddaughter’? She wasn’t even fully formed, hadn’t even been born, and you dare call her my granddaughter? “And so what if she was a granddaughter? Girls just cost money! With that one kick, do you know how much money I saved you? Instead of being grateful, you’re here demanding an explanation? I see you really are an ungrateful wolf, forgetting your own mother the second you get a wife!” David was so angry he wanted to take Martha and Liam and cut ties with the old lady completely. The situation escalated and eventually reached the neighborhood association. The older generation places the utmost importance on filial piety. David wasn’t good with words. The old lady, however, had a silver tongue and twisted the facts completely. By throwing a massive tantrum, she somehow made David’s family look like heartless, unfilial children. The old lady blatantly favored David’s older brother, Robert. She took David and Martha’s hard-earned money to subsidize Robert, paying for his college and buying him a house in the city. Later, Robert married the daughter of a local official. The old lady moved in with them to enjoy the good life, which was the only reason she finally let David’s family off the hook. Outside the bedroom door, the old lady was currently berating David: “You ungrateful little brat! Now that you’ve made it big, living in a big house, driving luxury cars, you just sit back and watch your older brother and his family scrape by? You think you’re pretty great now, don’t you? Feeling real smug, aren’t you?” “Mom, we never thought anything like that.” “Shut your mouth! It’s all because of that seductress you married! If it weren’t for her whispering in your ear, would my son ignore his own mother? “Don’t think that just because you secretly moved out of state, I couldn’t find you! Let me tell you, you can run, but you can’t hide! I’ve been keeping a ledger of all the money you owe your brother all these years!” The old lady threw down a yellowed, tattered little notebook. David picked up the ledger and flipped through a couple of pages: “Mom, since when do we owe Robert over forty thousand dollars?” “What do you mean ‘over forty thousand’? It’s exactly forty-seven thousand, eight hundred and sixty-five dollars and thirty-seven cents! If your brother hadn’t jumped into that freezing river to save you, ruining his health, he would have been a high-ranking military officer by now! And I only gave you a discount because you’re my biological son and Robert’s blood brother! “You ungrateful little brat! Not only did you not try to make up for the damage you caused your brother, you even teamed up with this jinx to hide from me?! “Don’t call me Mom! I don’t have a shameless son like you!” “It wasn’t Robert who saved me; a bystander saved Robert!” Martha couldn’t stand it anymore and tried to explain things for David, only to receive a resounding slap across the face. “You home-wrecker! When I’m talking to my son, it’s not your place to interrupt! I said Robert saved him, so Robert saved him! “Cut the crap. I’m here on serious business. My oldest grandson is getting married in a few days. Clean out this house and empty it in the next two days so Tommy can use it as his marital home!” “Absolutely not! This is the house we prepared for Chloe and Liam!” Martha clutched her red, swollen cheek, refusing flat out. “You jinx, when is it your turn to speak?” While she was talking, I walked over to the dog crate and let Buster out. Buster is a Belgian Malinois. He’s incredibly protective of his owners and fiercely obedient. He’s just very energetic and always wants to be near me. After I got pregnant, my in-laws kept Buster in his crate to prevent him from accidentally knocking into me. “Buster, go!” Hearing the command, Buster shot forward like a bolt of lightning, stopping right in front of my in-laws. Under the threat of the Malinois, the old lady was forced to jump on top of the sofa, her spindly little legs shaking uncontrollably. “Y-you… stay away from me! I’m not afraid of you! “Don’t, don’t bite me! “Are you all dead? Hurry up and stop him! “H-help!” My in-laws stood frozen in place. I walked over, my heart aching as I helped Martha up: “Mom, your face is swollen. Liam, go down to the pharmacy and buy some anti-inflammatory ointment for Mom.” Hearing my voice, Buster happily trotted over to my side, rubbing his head against me affectionately. “Good boy!” I rewarded Buster with a nice scratch behind the ears. Seeing this, the old lady quickly realized what was going on. She pointed at my nose and screamed furiously: “Alright, you little tramp! You’re directing this wolf-dog to abuse an elder, aren’t you? You better slaughter this dog right now! Get on your knees and kowtow to me to apologize, or I’ll make my grandson divorce you! Let’s see what a used-up piece of trash like you will do then!” “Mom, Chloe and Liam have a very strong relationship; there’s no way they’re getting a divorce.” Martha spoke up for me, only to earn another glare from the old lady. I gave Buster a light smack on the rear. “Bark, bark, bark!” This time, Buster didn’t just bark at the old lady; he started lunging at her. And I showed absolutely no sign of calling him off. After a few lunges, the old lady’s eyes rolled back into her head, and she fainted dead away. After she fainted, Martha transferred another few thousand dollars to me. “Chloe, hurry up and go stay somewhere else with Liam for a bit. We’ll never forget how you and Buster helped us today, but the old lady isn’t someone you want to mess with. When she wakes up, she’ll probably come up with some scheme to make things difficult for you!” “Yeah, Chloe, you’re still pregnant. The doctor said you shouldn’t experience extreme emotional swings. If the sky falls, Mom and Dad are here to hold it up. Just treat this as a second honeymoon with Liam!” “Mom, Dad, what are you talking about? The old lady might be hard to deal with, but I’m no pushover either! As for the baby, don’t worry about it. If it can’t handle a little turbulence like this, it doesn’t have the right to be my child!” I cooked dinner that evening, and the old lady finally came to. At the dinner table, she intentionally started picking fights. “The meat is so tough, are you trying to break my teeth?” “Didn’t you know I don’t eat seafood? And you purposely made smoked fish!” “Living the high life now, huh? Starting to waste food! Four people and you made eight dishes!” As she spoke, she tried to take the beef and smoked fish in front of me and put them in the fridge. “Put it down. “I said put it down, didn’t you hear me?” “You just won’t listen to reason, will you? Buster, up!” Amidst the furious barking, the old lady resentfully put down her bowl and chopsticks. I tilted my head and looked at her: “If you think the meat is too tough and hurts your teeth, then eat the porridge. Do you know why long-lived people live so long?” My husband weakly chimed in: “Because they love eating porridge! Porridge is good for you!” “No, it’s because they’re smart. They know who not to mess with!” I looked right at the old lady: “Grandma, you’re a smart person, aren’t you?” The old lady didn’t speak; she just glared at me. “Buster~” “Yes, yes, yes!” “Bark, bark, bark!” “Are you crazy? I said yes, and you’re still letting your dog bite me!” “Relax your foot, you’re stepping on his toy!” With Buster around, the old lady didn’t dare pull any stunts for the rest of the night. When we went to bed, Liam wrapped his arms around my waist. Tears soaked my shoulder as he cried like a little boy: “Chloe, where have you been all my life! “Sob, if only I had met you sooner! “Sniffle, I love you so much, honey.” A night of sweet dreams. The next morning, Liam got up to feed Buster. He searched the whole house but couldn’t find Buster anywhere. He looked at me, his eyes red: “What do we do, honey? Buster is gone!” As he spoke, he suddenly realized something. He ran to the kitchen and found a puddle of blood on the floor. The trash can also had a few tufts of black fur in it, exactly like Buster’s. Liam stormed over to the old lady, confronting her: “Tell me, did you kill Buster?!” “You little animal, is that how you speak to your grandmother?! Do you have any respect for God?! I got up bright and early to make breakfast for you all, and now I’m the bad guy?” “It was you! You cooked my rabbit back then!” “David! Control your son! He’s a grown man in his twenties and has absolutely no manners! Yelling at his elders like this!” David was called out of his room, Martha following closely behind. The old lady grabbed Martha: “You tell them! You were up earlier than me. Did you see me kill a dog?” “N-no, I didn’t.” Martha’s eyes welled with tears. “Forget it. It’s not a big deal. We’ll just look for him after we eat. He won’t stay lost forever anyway.” “Exactly, exactly. At least my grandson’s wife has some sense.” At the dining table, the old lady served me a bowl of meat broth. “Granddaughter-in-law, at least you’re reasonable. Unlike these others, who don’t know anything about human relationships. An animal is an animal. I don’t care if you’ve raised it for two or three years, or even decades, it’s never going to be more important than a person.” “You’re absolutely right.” “Everything has a destiny. Don’t blame me for speaking harshly, but if Buster really was killed and eaten, that was his karma. Don’t blame anyone else; blame it on the fact that he committed too many sins in his past life, or perhaps the owner who raised him committed too many sins. Granddaughter-in-law, do you think I’m making sense?” I nodded: “What Grandma says makes perfect sense.” She nodded in satisfaction. It wasn’t until she saw me finish the entire bowl of broth that her expression changed, and she asked me with a wicked grin: “How did the broth taste?” “Very tender.” “Of course it is! Meat from a mutt raised on expensive kibble sure is tender~” Liam was so furious he slammed his bowl onto the floor: “I knew it! You did it!” “You little bastard, shut your mouth! Who gave you the right to speak! Is your skin itching for a beating?” After scolding Liam, she turned her attention to me. “And you, you dog-relying thing! I gave you an inch and you thought I was actually afraid of you! Without that Malinois, you’re nothing! Take a look in the mirror, you’ve got the face of a widow. Only a blind fool would want you!” She got more and more smug as she spoke, laying down several “rules” for me. Riding the high of her own speech, she even demanded I acknowledge the turtle she had kept for forty years as my “God-Grandmother.” “I’ve raised this turtle for forty years. It’s old enough to be your grandmother! Letting you acknowledge it as a God-Grandmother is an honor. Don’t be ungrateful.” I nodded in agreement. However, she searched for a long time but couldn’t find her forty-year-old turtle anywhere. I unhurriedly stood up, fished a turtle shell out of the broth pot, washed it, dried it, and handed it to her: “Oh my, Grandma, the ‘God-Grandmother’ you were talking about… it wouldn’t happen to be this one, would it?”