Author: Momo Chan

“Five million dollars. Keep tabs on Mia, and tell me the second she breaks down.” Gideon pushed the check across the desk toward me, his eyes filled with calculation. I picked up the check, verified the amount three times, and slipped it into my bag. “Don’t worry, Gideon. Last night Mia cried her eyes out in the bathroom over you. She even said she’d transfer that oceanfront villa under her name to you as a birthday gift.” Gideon smiled with satisfaction. Walking out of the office, I pulled out my phone and hit save on the recording. Mia would indeed stop breathing. But not until three years from now, when Gideon would have her committed to a psychiatric hospital and killed by electroshock therapy. I looked at the balance in my account and dialed Mia’s number. “Hello, Mia? Your husband just paid me five million to be his spy. How should we split this money?” Evelyn’s POV My name is Evelyn. I’m a scholarship student sponsored by the billionaire Lancaster family, and Mia’s personal assistant. To the outside world, I’m Mia’s lapdog. I bite whoever she points at, with no dignity, driven purely by profit. But they don’t know that just moments ago, when Gideon threw that check at me, a set of memories that don’t belong to me flooded into my mind. In those memories, Mia would be stripped of her entire fortune by Gideon, a man with ulterior motives. Gideon would team up with Lydia, Mia’s father’s illegitimate daughter from an affair. Together, they would gradually drive Mia insane and have her committed to a psychiatric hospital. Eventually, to claim the inheritance, they would stage a not particularly clever medical accident. And I, as Mia’s only loyal ally, would end up crushed to pulp by an out of control truck while trying to expose the truth. Standing outside Gideon’s company building, I stared at the five million dollar check in my hand. It was the largest denomination of paper currency I’d ever seen in my life. I used to think money was everything. Now I think staying alive is. Gideon’s disgusting face still lingered before my eyes. He didn’t just want me to spy on Mia. He also wanted me to slip something into Mia’s food and drinks when he told me to. Gideon called it a sedative, but I knew it was a hallucinogen. One that could destroy her mind. I didn’t refuse outright. I even haggled with Gideon and squeezed out an extra fifty thousand in hush money. Because I knew that in these billionaire family power struggles, so-called loyalty without the weight of financial incentive wouldn’t be believed by anyone. If I hadn’t taken the money, Gideon would have found someone else, or found a way to make me disappear. I hailed a taxi and headed straight to Mia’s luxury apartment in the city center. When I opened the door, the room reeked of alcohol. Mia wore a silk robe, slumped on the carpet, still clutching half a bottle of red wine, her eyes red and swollen from crying. In this state, she really did look like a woman on the verge of a breakdown. If I didn’t know that Mia had just been on a hunger strike yesterday because Gideon hadn’t replied to her messages, I might have actually thought she was mentally unstable. “Evelyn, you’re here.” Mia’s voice was hoarse when she saw me. “Did Gideon reply? Is he still busy? Am I being too unreasonable?” I didn’t answer. I walked over and snatched the wine bottle from her hand, slamming it down on the coffee table with a bang. “Gideon didn’t reply. He’s busy plotting how to get you committed to a psychiatric hospital and swallow your entire fortune.” Mia froze, then flew into a rage. “What are you talking about! Gideon isn’t like that! He just has strong pride and doesn’t like my family looking down on him!” “Is that so?” I pulled out my phone, opened the recording, and turned the volume to maximum. Gideon’s refined yet sinister voice echoed through the empty living room. “Evelyn, I know you need money. Five million, as long as you obey. That crazy woman Mia has been very emotionally unstable lately. Keep an eye on her for me. Also, if Mia does anything extreme, make sure to record it and send it to me. This isn’t just for me, it’s for Mia’s own good. After all, mental illness can hurt people if it’s not treated early.”

Evelyn’s POV Mia’s face instantly turned deathly pale. She stared at my phone as if it were a monster. “This… this must be fake, right? Evelyn, do you need money? Just tell me if you need money. Why would you make something like this to deceive me?” Mia was still being stubborn, but I could see her hands were trembling. I played another segment, the part where I haggled with Gideon. “Gideon, isn’t five million a bit low? After all, Mia’s been good to me. If I betray her, I won’t be able to survive in this circle anymore.” “Five hundred fifty thousand. Not a penny more. Evelyn, know when to be satisfied. Once I gain control of the Lancaster family, you’ll have your share of benefits.” When the recording finished, I slapped the check on the table. “This is the down payment from Gideon. The rest he said he’d give after the job is done. Mia, do you still think Gideon’s just protecting his pride?” Mia picked up the check with trembling hands. After seeing the signature and seal clearly, she suddenly let out a scream, grabbed the wine bottle, and rushed toward the door. “I’m going to kill Gideon! That bastard! I’m going to kill him!” I grabbed Mia around the waist and dragged her back, throwing her onto the sofa. “What can you do besides get yourself killed if you go now? If you charge into Gideon’s office with a wine bottle, you’ll just prove you’re mentally unstable! Gideon already has a draft of the psychiatric evaluation ready. He’s just waiting for you to make a scene!” Mia collapsed on the sofa, sobbing. She cursed while crying, cursing Gideon, cursing herself. I poured Mia a glass of warm water and watched her vent with cold eyes. “Are you done crying? If you’re done, listen to me.” I sat across from Mia. “Gideon dares to do this because he has someone backing him. That Lydia? You think she’s just Gideon’s assistant at the company? She’s your own father’s illegitimate daughter, born just a few months after you.” Mia’s head snapped up, disbelief written all over her face. “My father… that’s impossible! My father loves me so much!” “Your father loves you? If he loved you, would he make you marry a fraud like Gideon? If he loved you, would he keep you away from the core business all these years? Wake up. In your father’s eyes, you’re just a tool for marriage alliances. Now that the tool isn’t useful anymore, he wants to replace it with a new one.” I had to be harsh, or Mia would never wake up. Mia sat there in a daze, her eyes vacant, as if her entire worldview had collapsed. “Then… what should I do? Evelyn, help me. I can’t let them succeed!” Mia finally grabbed my hand, her nails digging into my flesh. It hurt, but I didn’t shake her off. “Listen. Starting today, you need to cooperate with me in putting on an act.” I leaned close to Mia and lowered my voice. “Gideon wants you to play crazy? Then you’ll go crazy for him. But you’ll do it under my control.” “This five million. I’ll take half, and the other half is your investment capital.” Mia looked at me, the fear in her eyes gradually transforming into ruthlessness. She wiped away her tears and picked up the check, kissing it fiercely. “Fine, Evelyn. I’ll listen to you. Keep all five million. As long as you can destroy them, you can have everything I own!” I smiled and put the check away. “I don’t need everything. Fair compensation for work done. Now go wash your face and change your clothes. Gideon will be back tonight. Your show is about to begin.”

Evelyn’s POV Gideon did come back. He brought Mia’s favorite mousse cake, wearing that nauseating mask of devotion on his face. “Mia, I’m sorry. I’ve been too busy with the company these past few days and neglected you.” Mia sat on the sofa, holding a pair of scissors, cutting up the designer bags Gideon had given her. The floor was littered with scraps of leather. Gideon’s eyelid twitched. He put down the cake and tried to rush over to grab the scissors. “Mia, what are you doing? Don’t hurt yourself!” Mia looked up, her eyes somewhat unfocused yet carrying a strange excitement. “Gideon, you’re back? Look, there seem to be bugs in these bags. They keep making noise. It’s giving me a headache. I cut them open and the bugs ran away.” This was the script I’d taught Mia. A touch of neurosis, but not too exaggerated. Gideon froze for a moment, then turned to look at me standing in the corner. I gave Gideon a slight nod and mouthed the words “having an episode.” A flash of barely concealed pleasure crossed Gideon’s eyes, but he hid it well, immediately putting on an expression of distress. “Mia, have you been under too much stress lately? It’s okay, I’m here. Evelyn, go call Dr. Hayes. Have him come check on Mia.” Dr. Hayes was Gideon’s college friend, now a psychiatrist at a private clinic. In the original timeline, it was Dr. Hayes who repeatedly issued false diagnoses for Mia, calling normal anxiety bipolar disorder and insomnia a precursor to schizophrenia. I’d been waiting for Dr. Hayes to make this move. “Of course, Gideon. I’ll contact him right away.” I turned toward the kitchen, pretending to make a call, but actually pulled out a packet of powerful laxatives from my bag. Dr. Hayes arrived quickly, carrying his signature silver medical case, wearing gold rimmed glasses, the very picture of a refined scumbag. “Gideon, how is Mia’s condition?” “Not good. She was just cutting bags, saying there were bugs inside. Dr. Hayes, please take a look. Has that illness gotten worse?” Gideon spoke while giving Dr. Hayes meaningful looks. Dr. Hayes understood perfectly. He sat across from Mia and began the diagnostic routine he’d rehearsed countless times. I walked over carrying water I’d just poured. “Dr. Hayes, thank you for coming. Have some water.” I deliberately handed the doctored glass to Dr. Hayes, my movements respectfully flawless. Dr. Hayes took the water without suspicion and drank a large gulp. “Miss Lancaster, have you been hearing strange voices lately? Or seeing things other people can’t see?” Mia hugged her knees, trembling. “Yes, many people are cursing me, saying I don’t deserve to live…” Her acting skills. Such a waste she wasn’t winning Best Actress awards. Gideon put his arm around Mia’s shoulders with false concern. “Don’t be afraid, don’t be afraid. Those are hallucinations.” Less than ten minutes later, Dr. Hayes’s expression began to change. Sweat broke out on his forehead. He clutched his stomach, his face contorting. “Um… Gideon, may I use the restroom?” “Over there.” Dr. Hayes practically waddled into the bathroom with his legs squeezed together. While Gideon went to the balcony to take a call, probably reporting the situation to Lydia, I quickly walked to Dr. Hayes’s medical case on the coffee table and opened his laptop. I knew Dr. Hayes’s password. In the previous timeline, when he was on trial in court, this password was made public as evidence. It was his first love’s birthday. The computer booted up quickly. I rapidly located a folder named “Patient Files.” Inside was a medical record for Mia that had been prepared in advance, brazenly stating “severe bipolar disorder with violent tendencies, recommend involuntary hospitalization.” Besides Mia’s, there were several other false medical records of billionaire wives. Dr. Hayes was apparently a repeat offender. I pulled out a flash drive and copied the entire folder as fast as I could. The progress bar crawled agonizingly slowly. I kept my eyes on the screen while listening for sounds from the bathroom and balcony. The toilet flushed, followed by the sound of the door handle turning.

Evelyn’s POV I yanked out the flash drive, closed the laptop, and retreated to my corner, the entire process smooth as silk, though my heart was pounding like it would burst through my chest. Dr. Hayes emerged weakly, his face sallow. “Sorry, I must have eaten something bad.” He sat back down, not daring to drink any more water, and after asking a few cursory questions, pulled out a document. “Gideon, based on Mia’s current symptoms, she does show tendencies of severe bipolar disorder. I recommend starting with medication to control it. If the situation deteriorates, it would be best to send her to a professional treatment facility.” Gideon took the diagnosis, his hands trembling slightly from excitement. “Good. Whatever Dr. Hayes says. As long as Mia can be cured, money is no object.” Mia sat with her head down, shoulders shaking as if crying, but I knew she was trying not to laugh. Gideon locked the diagnosis in his safe, where he considered most secure. But I touched the burning flash drive in my pocket and smirked inwardly. That was nothing but waste paper. The real bomb was in my hands. After seeing Dr. Hayes off, Gideon was in high spirits, even giving me an approving look. “Evelyn, you did well today. From now on, make sure Mia takes the medication Dr. Hayes prescribes on time. Understood?” “Don’t worry, Gideon. I’ll make sure to watch her ‘carefully.’” I emphasized the word “carefully.” Those pills would go straight down the drain, every last one. Gideon moved faster than I’d expected. The day after obtaining the fake diagnosis, he brought Lydia home. “Mia, this is Lydia. She just returned from abroad and has nowhere to stay temporarily. You haven’t been feeling well lately, so Lydia can keep you company and cheer you up.” Lydia wore a white dress, her long hair flowing over her shoulders, that harmless smile on her face, carrying a basket of fruit. “Miss Lancaster, hello. Gideon’s mentioned you often, saying you’re beautiful and capable. Meeting you today, I see he wasn’t exaggerating.” The greeting sounded sweet, but I clearly saw the ambition and provocation hidden in Lydia’s eyes. Mia sat in a wheelchair. This was also my suggestion. If you’re going to play sick, go all in. Looking frail couldn’t hurt. Mia looked at Lydia, the pillow in her hands twisted out of shape. Last night I’d shown Mia Lydia’s file. This woman’s private life abroad had been an utter mess. She’d returned home to take over the Lancaster family business and snag Gideon, the scheming man. “If she’s Gideon’s friend, then let her stay. Evelyn, show Lydia to the guest room.” Mia’s voice was soft, sounding weak and breathless. Gideon nodded with satisfaction, seemingly surprised and pleased by Mia’s compliance. “Lydia, make yourself at home. If you need anything, just tell Evelyn.” I led Lydia upstairs. The moment she entered the guest room, the smile dropped from her face. She ran her finger disgustedly along the desk. “What kind of dump is this? So much dust. Is this how you people serve guests?” I stood in the doorway, expressionless. “Miss, this room was cleaned just yesterday. If you find it unsatisfactory, you’re welcome to clean it yourself.” Lydia turned around and looked me up and down, her eyes full of disdain. “You’re Evelyn? I heard you’re a dog Gideon bought with money? Since you’re a dog, you should act like one. Don’t bark at your master.” She pulled out a stack of bills from her bag and threw them in my face. “Take the money. From now on, you do whatever I tell you to do. Got it?” Bills scattered across the floor. I bent down and picked them up one by one. Why not take free money? This was emotional distress compensation. “You’re absolutely right. I’ll be obedient.” Lydia snorted and turned to unpack her luggage, muttering under her breath, “What a cheap bitch.” I pocketed the money, closed the door, and headed to the surveillance room.

Evelyn’s POV Yesterday, I’d already installed pinhole cameras in various corners of the Lancaster house, especially at the stairwell, living room, and Mia’s bedroom. I knew someone as scheming as Lydia would never behave herself. The first thing she’d do here was assert dominance over Mia and stage another sob story for Gideon. Sure enough, before dinner, the show began. Gideon hadn’t returned yet. Mia was reading in the second-floor sitting room. Lydia walked over carrying a cup of hot coffee, her steps deliberately swaying. “Mia, reading? Have some coffee to perk up.” Lydia approached Mia, deliberately stumbled, and the entire cup of scalding coffee flew toward Mia’s face. Mia was prepared. She dodged to the side, and the coffee splashed onto the sofa. “Oh my, I’m so sorry, Mia! I didn’t mean to!” While apologizing, Lydia took the opportunity to viciously pinch Mia’s arm. Mia cried out in pain and instinctively pushed Lydia. The push wasn’t forceful, but Lydia acted as if she’d been struck by a sledgehammer, her whole body flying backward and rolling straight down the stairs. “Help! Mia’s trying to kill me!” At that moment, the front door opened. Gideon happened to walk in. He looked up to see Lydia rolling down like a broken doll, landing at his feet with a gash on her forehead, blood flowing out. “Lydia!” Gideon dropped his briefcase and rushed over to cradle Lydia. Lydia leaned weakly against Gideon, pointing at Mia upstairs, tears streaming down her face. “Gideon… Mia… she said I was trying to seduce you… she pushed me… my head is so dizzy…” Gideon’s head snapped up, his eyes glaring viciously at Mia. “Mia! Have you lost your mind? Lydia is my friend. How could you be so vicious!” Mia stood at the top of the stairs, face pale, trembling all over. This wasn’t an act. Mia was genuinely furious at this scene and hurt by Gideon’s look. “I didn’t… Lydia did it herself…” “Shut up! I saw it with my own eyes! What excuse do you have?” Gideon stood up holding Lydia and strode outside. “I’m taking Lydia to the hospital for an examination! Mia, if anything happens to Lydia, I won’t let you off!” Mia tried to chase after them to explain, but I stopped her. “Don’t go.” I pulled Mia back to her room. “Let Gideon go.” “But Evelyn, Gideon misunderstood me! That woman did it on purpose!” Mia stamped her foot anxiously. “I know Lydia did it on purpose. Gideon probably knows too, but he just wants an excuse to blow up.” I opened my phone and pulled up the surveillance video from earlier. The footage clearly recorded how Lydia deliberately spilled the coffee, and how she deliberately used the force of Mia’s light push to jump backward and roll down the stairs. Especially that little adjustment Lydia made before rolling to protect herself. A perfect fake fall. “Look, this floor really is too hard. Lydia should wear knee pads next time she performs, or those knees are going to bruise.” I pointed at Lydia’s somewhat awkward posture on the screen and sneered. Mia watched the video and gradually calmed down, the tears in her eyes receding. “Should we… send this video to Gideon now?” “No. If we send it now, Gideon will just become angry from embarrassment and might even destroy the evidence.” I put away my phone. “We need to wait for the right moment. Like when we can slap Gideon in the face in front of everyone.”

Evelyn’s POV That night, Gideon stormed back. As soon as he entered, he slammed a diagnosis of “mild concussion” on the table. “Mia, you’re absolutely unreasonable! Lydia is such a pure and kind girl, and you could actually hurt her? Starting today, you stay in your room and reflect. Without my permission, you’re not to step one foot out!” Mia sat on the sofa holding a cup of coffee, surprisingly calm. “Gideon, are you sure I pushed Lydia?” “Of course! If not you, then who? Did Lydia roll down by herself?” “Perhaps.” I walked forward at the right moment, holding a tablet. “Gideon, to ensure the house’s security, I installed surveillance at the stairwell a couple days ago. It was meant to prevent thieves, but it captured something interesting.” Gideon’s expression changed instantly. I tapped the video and played it. In the footage, Lydia’s clumsy acting was laid bare, even capturing the look she snuck at the door to see if Gideon had come in. After watching the video, Gideon’s face turned from blue to white. What a sight. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but no sound came out. “Gideon, does this count as… faking a fall for fraud?” I asked with a smile. Gideon took a deep breath, crumpled the diagnosis into a ball, and stuffed it in his pocket. “This matter… perhaps Lydia accidentally slipped. She was just frightened and spoke nonsense. Mia, since it’s a misunderstanding, let’s move on. Don’t be too petty. After all, Lydia is a guest.” That’s it? Moving on? Not even an apology? Mia was about to explode when I gently pressed her hand. “Gideon’s right. We all live under one roof. Why hold grudges? But Lydia’s balance really is concerning. She should hold the railing when using stairs from now on. Otherwise if she falls again next time, the surveillance might not always be running.” Gideon glared at me and went upstairs to Lydia’s room. I knew he was going to comfort that schemer, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was that the seed of doubt had been planted in Gideon’s mind. Though he was protecting Lydia, someone as selfish as Gideon would never tolerate being played for a fool. Lydia’s sob story not only failed to hurt Mia, but actually made Lydia lose points with Gideon. This was my welcome gift to Lydia. Lydia’s fall didn’t manage to hurt Mia but left herself bruised and swollen, hiding in her room for several days without daring to show her face. But this didn’t make Gideon settle down. Soon, the Lancaster Corporation’s annual charity gala was about to begin. This was a major event in elite circles and a key step in Gideon’s plan to transfer assets. Two days before the gala, Gideon came to Mia with a thick document. “Mia, we need to set an example at this gala. I want to establish a charitable trust fund in your name and donate part of your shares in Lancaster Entertainment specifically to support education in remote areas.” It sounded noble. I stood nearby pouring water and glanced at the document. On the surface it was a charitable trust, but the terms hid traps. Though the actual controller and beneficiary were written vaguely, after layers of investigation, everything ultimately pointed to an offshore shell company belonging to Gideon. Once Mia signed, those shares would vanish into the fund, never to be seen again, while Gideon would get the reputation of a “philanthropist.” I sneered. Perfect. Using this “document,” Mia and I would prepare a surprise for Gideon.

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After ten years of marriage, I finally got pregnant with the heir to the Sawyer family. On the day of my prenatal checkup, I caught my husband accompanying his first love through childbirth. An hour later, Ethan Sawyer ordered someone to abort my baby and gently coaxed me, “Be good, Aria. Madeline’s health is fragile. Can you let this one go, just this once?” When I didn’t respond, my mother, Clara, slapped me across the face. “Haven’t you caused enough trouble? If it weren’t for you back then, Madeline and Ethan would never have broken up. Think of this baby as your way of atoning to her.” Afraid I’d disturb Madeline during her postpartum recovery, Ethan had my mother take me away. I was sent to the old house in the southern district. The place was chosen specifically because snakes, insects, and rodents frequently appeared there—and I was terrified of these cold-blooded creatures. After Ethan left, my mother sneered coldly. “Your father killed Gabriel. You stole Madeline’s man. Both of you deserve to die.” Watching my lips turn purple, my mother remained unmoved. I struggled to call Ethan for help, but he said, “Aria, you don’t need to do this. You’ll always be my wife, but Madeline—I’ll always owe her.” Ethan didn’t believe me. My mother ignored me. At that moment, I finally understood the destructive power of first love. Not just on Ethan, but on my mother too. I thought, this is fine. Ten years—any debt of gratitude should be repaid by now.

When I woke up, I was already in the hospital. The nurse told me, “Lucky thing someone passing by found you, otherwise you would’ve lost that leg.” Just as I was about to thank her, my mother’s call came through. “Who gave you permission to leave? Aria, are you scheming to harm Madeline again?” My mother’s hysterical voice sounded like she hated me to the bone. Before I could respond, she scoffed coldly. “Aria, you forced my hand.” I didn’t know what my mother would do, but I knew she wouldn’t let me off. Before, for Madeline’s sake, my mother had directly destroyed my father’s grave. She’d said, “Your daughter deserves to die. Now you can atone for her first.” Thinking of this, I quickly called back, only to discover I’d been blocked. I stared helplessly at my phone, still unable to understand. My mother used to treat me well, but ever since I married Ethan, she changed. I still remember how my mother had said, “If you insist on marrying Ethan, I’ll kill myself.” It was only after Ethan talked to her that she reluctantly agreed to our marriage. After the wedding, my mother rarely contacted me. Instead, she grew close to Ethan. It wasn’t until Madeline returned to the country that I understood why. That day was also my birthday, but they both stood me up. Later, they all appeared on Madeline’s social media. That’s when I learned that Madeline was Ethan’s first love, and she was also the daughter of my mother’s first love. How wonderful to be someone’s first love. But me? I was nothing.

My phone suddenly rang, interrupting my thoughts. It was a call from Rose’s nursing home. (My grandmother, Rose.) That uneasy feeling instantly peaked. I quickly answered. “Is this Mrs. Spencer’s family member?” “Yes, I am, I…” “Please come to the nursing home immediately. Your grandmother is dying.” Ignoring the doctor’s warnings, I took a cab straight to the nursing home. But I was still a step too late. Rose had already left me. At that moment, I felt my life was hopeless—until the caregiver showed me the surveillance footage. I saw Ethan bringing Madeline to see Rose. They said, “Aria deliberately framed Madeline and tried to secretly give birth to my child. She deserves to die. It’s all your fault, you old thing, for failing to raise her properly.” My grandmother kept kowtowing. But Ethan remained unmoved. When Madeline said, “Your granddaughter sleeps with old men every day,” Ethan even nodded along. That’s what drove my grandmother to her death. I cried until I was exhausted, until I had no voice left. Ethan, how dare you? Don’t you remember at all? My grandmother watched you grow up. I know I was wrong. Crying, I dialed a number I knew by heart. “You saw everything, didn’t you? My child is gone. I really can’t handle Ethan anymore. Please let me go. My grandmother is dead. I really can’t hold on anymore.” “Yes, your family saved my father and grandmother back then, but now both my father and grandmother are dead because of your family. The debt is repaid, isn’t it? I won’t hold Ethan accountable, but I want a divorce.” Margaret Sawyer (Ethan’s mother) kept apologizing to me. But what good were apologies? My grandmother would never come back. “Alright, I agree.” She booked me a flight for ten days later and promised to help me divorce Ethan. Satisfied, I hung up and sent my mother a message. After all, Rose had passed away—surely she should attend the funeral. For three days, my mother didn’t call once. I was even cursed out on social media. In a mother’s tone, she tearfully said, “I never imagined my daughter could be this kind of person—stealing someone’s beloved, causing her own father and grandmother’s deaths. Can I really keep someone like this? Can you tell me what I should do?” My mother fabricated a perfect lie, with a clear chain of evidence to support it. I wanted to cry but had no tears left. After doing all this, watching me trend on social media, my mother sent me a message: [Hurry up and divorce Ethan. Don’t stand in the way of Madeline’s happiness.] This time I replied: [Fine.] My mother didn’t believe I truly wanted to divorce Ethan. She called to curse at me, saying I was playing hard to get. “Your grandmother is dead. Do you really think anyone will support you now?”

“Clara, you’re my mother. My grandmother was your mother-in-law. Today is her funeral, and she was literally driven to death by Ethan and Madeline. You…” “Enough. If anyone’s to blame, it’s you.” I could imagine my mother’s teeth-gritting expression even through the phone. She said a whole string of things, every sentence stabbing at my heart. I thought, fine. This is it. My mother’s love for me was truly gone. “Clara, if you get Ethan to attend Rose’s funeral, I’ll divorce him.” “What are you scheming now?” My mother still didn’t trust me. She started cursing me, saying I’d die a horrible death, that I’d never bear children. “If Ethan doesn’t come, I’ll never divorce him, even if it kills me. That way, your precious Madeline will be a mistress forever.” I said all this expressionlessly, then hung up. I knew my mother would make Ethan come, because she cared so much about Madeline. Sure enough, halfway through the funeral, Ethan appeared. It wasn’t that I insisted he come. I just wanted Rose to leave with dignity. At the funeral, I was the only family member. Everyone else was pointing and whispering. “Doesn’t the old lady have a daughter-in-law?” “Why didn’t she come?” “Yeah, I heard this granddaughter has a husband too. What’s going on?” “Tsk, abandoned in her old age.” I knew my mother wouldn’t come. Even if she did, she wouldn’t treat my grandmother kindly—she’d probably condemn her in front of all these people. After all, she’d done it before. When Rose discovered my mother treated Madeline better than me, she was furious. She pointed at my mother and demanded, “Why? She’s your biological daughter! Have you lost your mind?” “Yes, I have lost my mind—to have married your son in the first place.” That’s what put my grandmother in a wheelchair. “Aria, Rose…” Ethan seemed shocked that Rose had truly died. Seeing the shock in Ethan’s eyes, I couldn’t help but laugh mockingly. “What are you pretending for? Didn’t you and Madeline go to the nursing home together? Said all those horrible things and drove my grandmother to her death—didn’t you expect this?” “Enough, Aria. We didn’t expect things to turn out this way. Besides, don’t you have any fault in this yourself?” It was still my fault. My fault for trusting my mother. My fault for loving you. “Fine. This is my grandmother’s funeral. I don’t want to argue with you. After this is over, I’ll divorce you.” “I don’t want to divorce you. Stop making a scene. Madeline is still heartbroken. Go back and apologize to her properly, and all this will pass.” “Apologize?” What did I do wrong that I need to apologize? “Those things your mother posted online—even though they’re not true, they still involved Madeline. Now people suspect Madeline is a mistress. How can she not be upset?” “Isn’t she though?” Sleeping with my husband, bearing my husband’s child—if that’s not a mistress, what is? *Slap…* Ethan, as if pushed to his limit, slapped me across the face. “Aria, for Rose’s sake, I didn’t want to make things difficult for you. Do you have to do this?”

At that moment, I felt no pain—only the increasingly strange looks from people around me. I was wrong again. How could I pin my hopes on Ethan? I looked at Rose’s smiling portrait and apologized over and over. I’d messed everything up. Seeing my silence, Ethan finally came to his senses. He wanted to apologize, but I stopped him. Ethan didn’t stay with me for the rest of the funeral because Madeline called saying something happened to the baby. Ethan left in a rush without even telling me. That day when I returned home, I discovered I couldn’t get in. I tried for a while but couldn’t open the door. Then my mother came out from inside. “Get lost. Madeline is living here now. She doesn’t want to see you.” “I bought this house!” I demanded loudly. My mother sneered coldly. “So what? It’s under your father’s name now. We’re married. If I don’t want you living here, you can’t.” Then my mother threw my things out. She said, “If you’re smart, hurry up and divorce Ethan.” That was the last thing my mother said to me. Helplessly, I dragged my suitcase away. Suddenly I didn’t know where to go. As soon as I reached the street, a group of people blocked my way. I didn’t know these people, but they punched and kicked me. They called me a demon, said I deserved to die. From what they said, I knew they were Madeline’s fans. Madeline was a minor influencer with many supporters online. They said, “Divorce Mr. Sawyer right now, and maybe we’ll let you off.” I pulled out the divorce agreement. “I’ve already signed it. I won’t cling to Ethan.” “Smart move.” That day they also filmed a video. My disheveled appearance was posted online and mocked by countless people. Ethan’s company was affected as a result. I knew this was Margaret’s doing. She’d called me before coordinating with the trending topic. “I wanted Ethan to sign the divorce papers without knowing, but he discovered it, and he doesn’t want to divorce.” “But now, for the company’s sake, he’ll definitely compromise first. He’ll probably propose a fake divorce. Agree to it—I’ll make it a real divorce. Though you’ll suffer some grievances.” “Just rumors and gossip. It’s not like I haven’t faced them before. As long as I can divorce Ethan, I’ll do anything.” “I’m sorry, child.” She really was sorry. Back then, when Madeline left Ethan for fame and fortune, Margaret found me and asked me to help Ethan through the darkest period of his life. Later, when Ethan moved past his heartbreak, he held me and said, “Even though my love with Madeline was unforgettable, I only want to be with you now. I want to be with you for the rest of my life.” Unfortunately, men’s promises are like farts—gone once released. That night, Ethan found me looking dejected. “I’m sorry, Aria. I didn’t expect things to turn out this way.” “Let’s get divorced, okay?” “Okay.” Seeing my agreement, Ethan quickly explained, “It’s a fake divorce. Once the company gets through this period, it’ll be fine.” “Okay.” I chose to play along with Ethan. He held me and made a passionate confession. But I turned a deaf ear. That day we filed for divorce. This way the process would be faster. Looking at the proof confirming our divorce, I smiled wistfully. Finally—finally free of this man. For the rest of my life, I never wanted to see him again. I cursed him—may he never meet anyone better than me for the rest of his life. Let him be continuously hurt by Madeline, the woman who hurt him once before. That day, Margaret transferred a large sum of money to me. I transferred part of it to my mother with a note: Retirement fund. I sent my mother a message: [According to government-mandated support, I’ve given you more than enough. This money is the last connection between us as mother and daughter. Take care of yourself from now on.] I visited my father and grandmother one last time, then went to the airport. Before boarding, I posted the presentation I’d compiled during this period online. Why should I sacrifice myself to make them comfortable? Since Ethan always thought Madeline was such a wonderful person, I had to let him know exactly what kind of goods he’d fallen in love with. The moment the plane took off, Madeline’s name hit the trending searches. When Ethan’s assistant found him with his phone, he was playing with the baby. Seeing the trending topic, he nearly dropped the child to the floor. “How is this possible?”

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At eight months pregnant, I accidentally discovered that my husband, Ethan Smith, was having an affair with my adoptive sister who had come to take care of me. When I caught them, his tone was flat: “So you saw everything? Actually, I started sleeping with her when you were three months pregnant. Every night for the past few months, I’ve been with her… Who told you to always refuse me during your pregnancy?” I couldn’t help but raise my hand and slap him. “You bastard! She’s my sister!” But Stella knelt before me, tears streaming down her face. “Natalie, don’t blame Ethan. I was the one who initiated it…” My head was buzzing, my body swaying, and Ethan caught me in his arms. I shoved his hands away. “Why?” Stella bit her lip, struggling to speak. “I’ve always liked him…” I slapped her across the face. Ethan pulled her behind him, his eyes cold as ice: “I’m a man. I have needs. Isn’t this arrangement better? She’s your sister—we’re all family. Would you prefer I cheat with someone else?”

I stood frozen, my throat feeling like it was stuffed with cotton. Ethan sighed helplessly and gently wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes. “Natalie, your pregnancy hormones are just making you overthink things. Don’t get so upset—it’s bad for the baby.” The familiar features before me suddenly seemed like a stranger’s. So he did remember I was pregnant after all. Stella scrambled to her feet and headed for the kitchen, her legs still trembling as she walked. “Natalie, what would you like to eat? I’ll make it for you…” Their eager expressions made me wonder if everything I’d just witnessed was a dream. “When did this start?” Ethan frowned. “January 25th. That day you went for your prenatal checkup and asked Stella to deliver some documents to me. I couldn’t control myself…” The bright red hickey on his neck stabbed at my eyes. The baby in my belly kicked again. My lower back ached so badly I couldn’t straighten up, and tears fell in heavy drops onto the floor. So it was that day. I had taken a taxi to the hospital alone—waiting in line, getting my number, going through the checkup. I’d asked Ethan if he could come with me, but he said he had work. I’d asked Stella if she could help me, but she said after delivering the documents, her school advisor needed her assistance. My legs were swollen from pregnancy. Someone bumped into me at the hospital, and I nearly had a miscarriage. Meanwhile, my two closest people were tangled together on his office desk. I had made excuses for him, thinking he was just too busy. I never imagined he was busy in my sister’s bed. I was the only fool. Ethan suddenly crouched down and rubbed my legs. “If you hadn’t found out, you wouldn’t be upset. Wouldn’t it have been better to just play dumb?” Nausea surged in my stomach. I kicked him in the chest. “Ethan Smith, you disgust me!” But he used the momentum to help me onto the sofa. “If this makes you feel better, you can kick me a few more times.” As I struggled, my hand touched something on the sofa. I looked down. A pair of torn stockings. The blood in my veins seemed to freeze. Ethan hesitated, wanting to say something but holding back. Stella came out carrying soup. When she saw what was in my hand, her face went white. She rushed forward anxiously to explain. “Natalie, it’s not what you think…” Ethan calmly took the stockings, his tone casual. “No need to make such a fuss. Yesterday you said your stomach hurt, so I went to sleep in the study. Actually, I just tried it with Stella on the sofa. You didn’t even notice. It was quite thrilling.” Tears blurred my vision. I bolted up and rushed to the bathroom, retching violently. Outside the door came Stella’s worried voice. “Natalie, are you okay? Ethan was just talking nonsense. Don’t get worked up—your health is what matters. You still have a baby to think about.” The nausea only deepened. I stared at my swollen belly in despair. Why did it have to be at eight months? Why did it have to be Stella? All my life, I’d given way to her in everything. So she could go to college, I dropped out early to work. When she needed a place to stay in college, I let her move into the home Ethan and I shared. The thousand-dollar tablet in her hands—I bought it without blinking. The dress she wore, even those stockings—last week while shopping, she casually mentioned her legs weren’t smooth enough, and I bought them for her. I opened the door and stared hard at Stella. “Haven’t I been good enough to you?” Stella ingratiatingly handed me a bowl of soup, her voice careful. “Natalie, eat something first. We can talk after you’ve eaten, okay?” I knocked the bowl from her hands. The scalding soup splashed onto the back of her hand, leaving it bright red. “I don’t need your fake kindness!” Stella’s eyes instantly reddened. “Natalie, how can you say that about me!” Ethan’s expression darkened, glaring at me with displeasure. “Take your anger out on me if you must. Stella cares about you. Is there really a need to make such a big deal out of nothing?” He rubbed his temples while gently wiping Stella’s tears. “See? I told you we absolutely couldn’t let Natalie find out. Your parents were right—Natalie has such a difficult temperament. Now that she knows, this house is going to be turned upside down.” Stella looked at me with tears in her eyes, the picture of grievance. My throat tightened. It had always been like this since childhood. “I’m taking Stella to the hospital. You stay home and reflect on yourself!” The door slammed with an earth-shattering bang. I collapsed weakly into a chair, but soon a strange smell came from the kitchen. In their rush, they hadn’t even turned off the gas… I struggled to move my body toward the door, only to discover that Ethan had broken the lock when he slammed it. I desperately called Ethan’s phone. Ring after ring, he hung up every time. Finally, on the last call, he answered, his voice laced with impatience. “Can you stop being so paranoid? Because of you, Stella cried her voice hoarse, asking me over and over if you really hate her. She genuinely cares about you.” I dragged my heavy pregnant belly, my whole body weak and powerless. “Ethan, I…” “I’m still trying to comfort Stella. If there’s nothing important, I’m hanging up.” The dial tone sounded in my ear. The smell of gas had nearly filled the entire house. I finally despaired. Ethan Smith, I won’t love you anymore.

When I woke up, my mother was lying by my bedside. From extreme grievance and fear, I instinctively hugged her, my voice choked. “Mom…” “Ethan is having an affair.” My mother cut off my tearful complaint. My heart felt like it was being crushed by a giant hand. “Over such a small matter, do you really need to act like you want to die? Which man doesn’t cheat?” My emotions surged. “But the person he cheated with is…” Her tone was calm. “I know.” I looked up in disbelief, staring into my mother’s clouded eyes. Not a trace of guilt, only dissatisfaction with me. I grabbed my mother’s arm, my voice breaking. “You knew? You knew and you still…” “Men have work stress and need an outlet. It’s bad enough that you as the wife don’t understand.” “Women outside would cost money. Your sister is clean. Isn’t it good that she’s helping share your burden? What are you making a fuss about?” Her mouth opened and closed, every word criticizing me for being unreasonable. My mind went blank. Even though I’d long known her favoritism had no bounds. Even though I’d long known Stella was the apple of her eye. I still couldn’t comprehend it. I screamed and questioned her in despair. I thought she could at least show some concern for me, but instead she said, “When I gave birth to you, my body was ruined because of you. Since you were little, you’ve been an ungrateful wretch, always fighting with Stella over things. Now you even want to fight with Stella over a man!” My fingertips nearly drew blood. My phone chimed with a special notification. Stella had updated her social media: “Feeling down, so Ethan swept the whole claw machine arcade for me.” I was lying in the hospital from gas poisoning. My husband was accompanying Stella to check out the newest Western restaurant, playing at claw machines with her, taking her to Disneyland. “If you can’t hold onto your man’s heart, who’s to blame?” My mother’s light mockery made my red-rimmed eyes seem especially pathetic. When Ethan and Stella returned, I was still in the hospital waiting to give birth. “Natalie, I’m sorry. When I was cooking, I forgot to turn off the gas. If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have…” Stella cried like a pear blossom in the rain, but I didn’t even bother to look at her. She cried harder. “Ethan, is Natalie mad at me? I’m so stupid—I can’t even handle such a simple thing.” Ethan gently comforted her. “It’s not your fault.” He looked at me, seemingly displeased with my attitude. “Natalie, Stella is apologizing to you. Are you deaf?” I suddenly felt like laughing, but tears fell traitorously instead. Ethan realized his tone was too harsh and softened it, pulling out two plush toys. “I know this scared you. I asked the doctor—you and the baby are fine. Stella is still young. She even brought you the dolls you like.” The necklace around Stella’s neck was blindingly conspicuous. It was the wedding gift I’d asked Ethan for over an entire year. To this day, my neck remained empty. Was I only worthy of these cheap dolls? I nearly bit through my lip. “In what capacity are you speaking up for Stella? Ethan? Her lover?” Ethan’s expression darkened bit by bit. He laughed coldly. “No wonder your mother doesn’t like you.” “Stella is sunny and cheerful, unlike you—petty and small-minded. If I were your mother, I would also…” I looked up in disbelief. Ethan’s eyes showed panic. “That’s not what I meant…” From my earliest memories, my mother had disliked me. Even with two chicken drumsticks, she’d give both to Stella. When I was little, every friend I made would be drawn to Stella and become her friend instead. Every late night, I hated myself for not being as likable as Stella. It was Ethan’s appearance that told me even if I wasn’t perfect, he would always stand by my side. But now, even he stood on Stella’s side. My tears poured out like a broken faucet, uncontrollable. I grabbed things and threw them at him, breaking down. “Get out! Just get out!” Over the next few days, perhaps from guilt, Ethan and Stella came to the hospital to see me every other day. Baby diapers and supplies, all kinds of pregnancy nutrition meals appeared endlessly. “Natalie, didn’t you always say you really liked this necklace? I specially bought it for you.” The necklace I’d wanted for so long was placed in my palm by Ethan, yet it felt cold to my heart. One year and three months. He knew I liked it but never thought to buy it for me. I raised my head and finally spoke the words I’d been holding in my heart.

“Let’s get divorced.” We spoke in unison. I looked up in shock, only to see a flicker of joy in Ethan’s expression. “That’s great—Natalie, you know about it?” Confusion crossed my face. Ethan had already pulled out divorce papers. “Here are the divorce documents. If everything looks good, just sign.” “After all, you and I have wronged Stella. I’ll get a marriage license with her, and you can give her the spousal work assignment quota. Consider it compensation.” “Don’t worry, you’ll actually still be my wife. Anyway, I’ll support you. Being a housewife from now on isn’t so bad.” By the time I finished signing, I finally registered what Ethan had said. “Ethan Smith, do you remember what you promised me?” Ethan paused, as if trying to recall. Clearly, he’d forgotten. Back when I’d been trying to conceive for two years, gave up my position in the capital, took countless ovulation injections to have this child, he’d promised me, “You’ve sacrificed so much for me. Even after you have the baby, I’ll make sure you have work.” Now he wanted a divorce and to give the spousal quota to Stella. The door opened, and Stella walked in. “Natalie, are you feeling better?” Ethan warned me with his eyes not to say anything. I smiled through my tears. “How can I be better with a homewrecker like you around? Seducing my husband isn’t enough—now you want to steal my work quota too. Stella, you’re shameless beyond belief.” Her face went deathly pale. Tears fell like broken pearls. Ethan’s face darkened. “Natalie!” “Am I wrong? She’s barely twenty and already knows how to climb into her brother-in-law’s bed! Isn’t that slutty?” I raised my voice. People around us looked at her with mockery. Ethan shielded her in his arms and sneered at me. “Who’s sluttier than you? At eighteen, you worked part-time at a bar, got drugged, and when I took you to the hospital, you refused. You insisted we do it in the woods…” Contemptuous jeers rose around us. My face flushed red and white with shame and anger. I rushed forward to hit him. Stella suddenly blocked him and took the slap. “Natalie, blame me if you want. It’s all my fault. Ethan already works so hard.” “Natalie, what’s gotten into you!” Ethan’s eyes flashed with heartache as he pushed me back hard. My belly slammed into the corner of the table, and blood pooled beneath me. Ethan shouted for a doctor in shock. Stella cried and hit him. “Natalie, I didn’t mean to. Please don’t let anything happen to you…” Ethan cried as he watched me being wheeled into the operating room. In the darkness, the surgical forceps opened, tearing pain. I cried my heart out as my life flashed before my eyes like a movie. It was eighteen-year-old Ethan on the grass, fingers intertwined with mine. “Natalie, I’ll be good to you for a lifetime.” A lifetime turned out to be only seven years…

The baby was premature and went into the incubator. Ethan grabbed my hand guiltily, eyes reddening. “Natalie, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to push you. After this summer ends, I’ll make Stella leave our home.” I turned away, tears flowing silently. After being discharged, Ethan locked me in the house. He even hid my phone. The first day, they only brought me three meals. I held my newborn baby and cried myself hoarse. The second day, I smashed everything in the room and cut my hand. The third day, Ethan finally came to see me. I demanded hysterically why he wouldn’t even give me the freedom to move around. He frowned as he bandaged my hand, his eyes helpless. “Your emotions are too volatile right now. I’m afraid you’ll go out and ruin Stella’s reputation. She’s still a young girl. We can’t destroy her life over your momentary impulse, can we?” Stella beside him cast me a sympathetic look. “Natalie, don’t worry. I’ll do that job well, and I’ll maintain your friendships for you too.” My heart felt like a piece of flesh had been carved out. I was disheveled and deathly pale. “Ethan Smith, what gives you the right to let someone else replace my life! Is this what you call love?” Ethan froze for a moment, his patience exhausted. “When you learn how to be a magnanimous mother, I’ll naturally let you out.” He wanted me to learn to be a magnanimous mother, yet he stripped away my marriage, my work, my freedom. Meanwhile, under his protection, Stella enjoyed everything that should have been mine. I covered my face, laughing until tears streamed down. The baby beside me suddenly began wailing. I touched the child’s burning forehead, and my heart twisted like a knife. “Ethan Smith, let me out! Nathan has a fever!” I beat frantically on the door, my nails leaving bloody streaks. The crying finally brought Ethan. He frowned. “What are you making a fuss about now?” I begged without dignity. “Ethan, look at Nathan! He’s your son! He’s really going to die!” Hesitation and conflict flashed in his eyes. “But…” My mother suddenly entered. With one glance, she said lightly, “Making a mountain out of a molehill. You had fevers when you were little too. Just give him some fever medicine. You’re making such a scene—could it be because… Stella got confirmed in her position today, and you want to go ruin her work?” Ethan’s expression instantly darkened. “Natalie, enough is enough. When did you become so unreasonable? You’re even using your son as an excuse.” I laughed, my whole body trembling. “I’m unreasonable?” He didn’t understand. “Stella is your sister. Why can she accept all this, but you can’t?” It seemed my breakdown and helplessness were nothing in Ethan’s eyes. He answered a call, his face breaking into a smile, and left without looking back. “Mom, Stella’s promotion report is starting. Let’s go.” I looked at the child in my arms with his flushed face, feeling no pain as I desperately kicked the door open. But I was covered in blood. Passing drivers didn’t dare let me in their cars. When I finally got a taxi, I discovered Ethan had confiscated my phone—I had no money for the fare and was thrown out by the driver. By the time a kind stranger got me to the hospital, the doctor shook his head helplessly. “Why didn’t you bring him in sooner? The baby was already premature. As a mother, you’re too careless.” Holding my child’s cold body on the way home, I was dead inside as I lit a fire. In the firelight, the drone of a helicopter was especially jarring, and a figure slowly walked toward me… “Sorry. I came late.”

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After three consecutive months of receiving bed photos and videos from my Alpha husband’s lover, I publicly posted all the intimate footage on werewolf social media. My husband’s mistress cried her heart out, screaming that she had no face to show in any Pack anymore. The next second, Logan’s call came through, his voice cold as ice: “Delete it.” I didn’t delete it. Ten minutes later, all my accounts were deactivated. The entire operation—Logan only needed ten minutes. Three days later, he came to me with divorce papers, his fingers caressing the back of my neck as he coerced me softly: “It’s just a trick to placate the little omega. Play along.” I nodded and signed my name. He thought I would cry and beg him to come back like I had countless times before. But he didn’t know—I had long stopped wanting to be the Luna of the Blake Pack. Half an hour after signing the contract. Logan would never know how malicious the thoughts of his innocent, harmless lover truly were. Even though I had already signed the divorce papers, she still hired three Rogues to ambush me on my way to my father’s grave. Claws laced with wolfsbane tore open my abdomen. I couldn’t save my child—the last blood tie between Logan and me was severed. The communicator shrilled just as I came down from the hospital operating table. The anesthesia had barely worn off. The twisting pain in my abdomen and the burning sensation from the wolfsbane forced cold sweat from every pore. I answered through the pain. Logan’s icy voice came through: “Ella, move your things out of the main house.” “Okay.” I agreed readily. Five years as mates, and he’d kept one omega after another on the side. To avoid interfering with his trysts with his lovers, he had his deputy arrange a solitary cabin for me in Black Oak Forest, at the very edge of Blake Pack territory. He said: “When I want to find you, I’ll naturally send someone to fetch you. Without my permission, you’re not to step one foot outside Black Oak Forest.” The last time he knelt before me, forehead pressed against the back of my hand, begging me to move back to the main house. He said he’d reformed, that we’d live well from now on. I foolishly believed him and moved back to what should have been my home. But one week later. At Blake Pack’s Blackstone Club, a young omega server accidentally spilled red wine all over Logan. The omega stumbled to his knees like a startled fawn, apologizing with glistening eyes that happened to catch Logan’s gaze. I stood in the shadows on the second floor and saw the way he looked at her. I knew—he’d fallen again. That night, he took that server to the penthouse suite of the club. The news spread throughout the Northern Wolf Alliance overnight. Once again, I became the laughingstock of all the packs. This omega seemed truly special. For a whole year, Logan never tired of her. Recently, she’d grown even more brazen, sending me photos and videos of her with Logan for three months straight. Every word dripped with her ambition to replace me. Until three hours ago. For the first time, Logan placed the divorce parchment before me, his fingers stroking the top of my head: “It’s just for show. Be good, don’t make me angry.” My eyes reddened as I hesitated to put pen to paper. No matter how outrageous his behavior before, this document symbolizing complete severance had never appeared. But now, he stroked my head methodically, as if soothing a bristling kitten. I knew better than anyone the consequences of angering Logan. Just like this time—with a flick of his fingers, he could solve all the troubles for that omega named Mia. So I signed my name, leaving only one word: “Okay.” Returning to the main house, I didn’t see Logan or Mia. Old Mabel, the housekeeper, immediately approached when she saw me: “Miss? How was the prenatal checkup? Is the baby alright?” My face turned ashen as I shook my head. I had originally planned to tell Logan tonight that I was pregnant. But in just a few short days, I had lost this child. “I was attacked.” Under Mabel’s shocked gaze, I slowly spoke, “Even if I hadn’t been attacked, this child wouldn’t have been born into happiness.” Before Mabel could respond, the main house door was kicked open. Mia wore Logan’s black trench coat, carrying a pile of luxury gift boxes, with a dozen bodyguards behind her also laden with packages. Seeing me, Mia showed no surprise. She lazily leaned against my chair, smiling sweetly, though her words were laced with poison. “I’ve never understood—Logan treats you like this, yet you still won’t leave. What are you clinging to?” “Yesterday I said I wanted strawberries, and he braved a blizzard to run fifty kilometers to pick them for me. Have you ever received that kind of treatment?” I fell silent for a moment. Yesterday was the memorial day for my father, the former Alpha of Blake Pack. When I contacted Logan, he told me he was too busy. Turns out, he was busy picking strawberries for Mia.

I clenched my clothes tighter. Once upon a time, Logan was the person who loved me most, aside from my parents. He was my father’s most trusted Beta deputy. Since I was ten years old, he had always stood silently behind me. He said: “My duty is to protect Ella.” When I was a child with a fever of 104 degrees and the pack doctor was helpless, he carried me thirty kilometers through a rainstorm to find the best physician, staying by my bedside all night. When our territory was attacked by a bear pack, he shielded me with his body, letting bear claws tear open his back, blood soaking through his clothes. He endured the pain without a sound, still gently comforting my terrified self. On my coming-of-age ceremony, my father gave us his blessing. He placed the black wolf fang necklace symbolizing Blake Pack’s authority around Logan’s neck. “If you ever change your heart, I won’t hesitate to take her away. My daughter has never lacked for people to love her.” Logan clenched his fists and solemnly promised he would never change. He said: “I want to make you the happiest person in the world.” Our relationship was the envy of the entire Northern Wolf Alliance. One year after our marriage, my father died accidentally during a hunt, and Logan took over all Blake Pack affairs. Pack business was overwhelming. He collapsed into the hospital several times from exhaustion after taking office. I felt so sorry for him that I learned to cook, hoping to ease some of his fatigue. And every time he returned from a hunt, he would bring me a bouquet of my favorite lilies, saying these were flowers filled with love. He would watch the stars with me and hold me as I fell asleep. When exactly did everything change? I think it was probably after he completely transformed into the unquestionable Alpha of Blake Pack. He began having endless social obligations, spending every day at the Blackstone Club. When he came home, he reeked of pungent, unfamiliar perfume. Facing my questioning, he smiled and explained: “It rubbed off from people the cooperating pack leaders brought. Don’t overthink it.” He used one clumsy excuse after another, wearing down my unreserved trust time and again. Until he completely controlled Blake Pack’s power and subdued all the elders who opposed him—then he stopped bothering to pretend. And I foolishly remained immersed in the prison of love he wove for me. The first time I caught him cheating was at the full moon hunt victory banquet. At the feast, he was nowhere to be seen for a long time. Pack members had already started gossiping, so I had no choice but to check his location and discovered he was at the pack headquarters. All along the way, I grumbled about him not taking care of his health. When I pushed open the office door, I was still holding a cake I’d made myself. But on his desk sat the remains of a candlelit dinner, and clothing was scattered all over the floor. When I kicked open the door, Logan’s face showed not a trace of panic. He gently covered the person beneath him with a blanket, casually wrapped a towel around himself, and when he looked up at me, his eyes were as cold and indifferent as a block of ice. “Close the door. If you have no shame, she still does.” His composure made me look like a pathetic clown. I rushed forward like a madwoman to drag out the mistress, but Logan slapped me so hard I saw stars. In the chaos, I saw clearly the woman on the bed— it was the omega nurse who had changed his bandages the last time he’d collapsed into the hospital. The little nurse was terrified, tears streaming down her face: “Luna Ella, don’t misunderstand. I only came to deliver healing herbs. We had some drinks, and in our confusion…” Logan pressed his lips together, his cold eyes fixed on me: “Ella, I’m warning you, don’t lay a finger on her.” So his lilies filled with love were nothing more than casual compensation after his wild revelries outside.

From then on, the women around him changed one after another. He no longer cared about anything to do with me, finding even my existence annoying. It seemed only business profits and different omegas to bed could make him feel the meaning of life. I gradually became numb in the enormous sense of loss. Until one day, I no longer expected him to appear before me. I ignored Mia’s cold mockery and sarcasm, turned to go upstairs to get my black wolf pendant and documents, then hurried back down. Coming downstairs, I saw Mia rifling through the bag I’d left on the sofa. My breathing hitched as I rushed forward and snatched the bag back. Mia spread her hands and rolled her eyes: “Nothing valuable anyway. Why so nervous?” I felt for the hospital report at the very bottom of the bag and breathed a sigh of relief. Mia walked up to me and suddenly grinned: “I heard you encountered a Rogue attack yesterday. You’re really lucky to be alive. You look perfectly fine.” Looking at her smug face, I was about to step forward and teach this lowly omega a lesson, when Logan returned. He glanced at me, his tone casual: “Did you drop something?” I smiled and smoothly tucked the documents back into my bag: “Nothing.” Logan fell silent for a moment. Just as I lifted my foot to leave, he pulled out two black cards and held them before me. “Border Fortress Hotel presidential suite. Stay there for now. Yesterday… I really was busy.” Busy? Busy picking strawberries for Mia counted as business? At this moment, I only found the man before me utterly disgusting. I smiled sweetly, and the next second, delivered a resounding slap across Logan’s face. I shook my numb palm, my smile unchanged: “Logan, you’re truly disgusting. A Beta deputy who rose through the old Alpha’s favor, who by chance took the Alpha position—have you forgotten how you once begged me to help you stabilize the opposing forces?” I had never spoken words so cutting to him before. Logan didn’t strike back, but his expression darkened instantly, his gaze growing ominous. Before he could react, Mia grabbed the ashtray from the table and smashed it hard against my head. Warm blood flowed down from my temple. My head spun, and the living room lights suddenly became unbearably bright. Mabel rushed forward to support me, shouting anxiously at Logan: “Alpha Logan, don’t you know that Luna Ella she…” I stopped Mabel. “Mabel, I’m fine.” The man before me showed no reaction, only casually glancing at Mabel, his voice cold and cutting: “Mabel, remember clearly whose servant you are. Since she’s already divorced me, she’s no longer Blake Pack’s Luna.” Mabel looked at me anxiously. I gently shook my head. Saying anything to him now was meaningless. He was no longer the Logan who would smile and bend down to listen to me. Logan nervously held Mia’s slightly trembling hand, his tone tender enough to drip water: “Does your hand hurt from hitting her? Did any glass cut you?” Mia sobbed softly and shook her head: “It doesn’t hurt… I just couldn’t stand seeing someone bully you…” The light illuminated the gentleness in his eyes as he looked at Mia: “Silly girl, bullying me doesn’t matter, but I can’t let you be wronged.” Hearing this, Mia immediately became smug, her eyes full of provocation as she looked at me: “For that slap just now, I’ll return it to you tenfold.” Seeing Logan say nothing, Mia shook his arm coquettishly: “You’re Blake Pack’s Alpha. If word gets out that you were slapped, how humiliating would that be? How could you command respect?” Logan still didn’t relent. Seeing this, Mia stood on tiptoe and whispered something in his ear. Logan finally smiled with satisfaction, wrapping his arm around Mia’s waist and kissing her lightly on the lips: “Alright, I’ll listen to you.” I staggered back several steps, staring at the two people before me in disbelief. The bodyguards immediately shoved Mabel aside roughly and stepped forward to grip my wrists tightly. I began struggling frantically, but was frozen in place by Logan’s fierce gaze: “Logan! You…”

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My younger sister Ella had a rare disease. The slightest touch would leave her covered in bruises, and a fall could shatter her bones completely. She was our family’s “porcelain doll.” Growing up, the words I heard most often were that I had to protect Ella at all costs. So when she fell down the stairs right in front of me, I didn’t hesitate to throw myself beneath her. Ella was fine. But I broke my leg and would be confined to a wheelchair for the rest of my life. After that, the words I heard most often changed to: “Anna, Ella will be grateful to you.” My parents’ praise made me even more devoted to protecting Ella. But after I protected Ella yet again, strange text appeared before my eyes. [Actually, Anna is pretty pitiful. She’s protected Ella for so many years, and she’ll die still believing Ella really is a “porcelain doll.”] [This is her fate—destined to be nothing but a tool to protect Ella!] I didn’t believe this nonsense. Until the day Ella fell and there was no swelling, no bleeding. She got up like nothing happened and sighed: “How much longer do I have to keep up this porcelain doll act!”

My deformed fingers unconsciously gripped the wheelchair armrest. That was from when Ella was three and ran into the street to grab a toy. I saved her but got run over by an electric scooter. Three of my fingers were nearly crushed and could never bend again. But even then, I hadn’t protected Ella well enough. Her knee scraped against the gravel road, blood flowing freely. When my mother arrived, she didn’t even glance at me, rushing Ella straight to the hospital. By the time she remembered me, the doctor said it was too late. My fingers would never bend again. Even so, my mother punished me when we got home. “Anna, can’t you put more effort into protecting Ella!” I don’t remember what the punishment was. My mother had too many different ways to punish me. But that disappointed shout and the pain of my broken fingers remained crystal clear in my memory. After that, I protected Ella even more recklessly. My gaze moved from my twisted fingers to Ella in the distance. At home, she always sat quietly on the sofa. Couldn’t run, couldn’t jump. Carefully playing her role as a “porcelain doll.” But now she was jumping freely to reach the leaves overhead. Chasing butterflies back and forth. Her pale arms scraped against tree branches. No bruises. No bleeding. Just a faint red mark that quickly disappeared. Ella had said, “How much longer do I have to keep up this porcelain doll act?” So she really was like those comments said—she wasn’t sick at all. [To get Anna’s protection, Ella has really suffered.] [Playing “porcelain doll” at home every day must be suffocating.] I lowered my eyes. So this was what Ella called suffering? When I looked up again, a familiar figure appeared beside Ella. I couldn’t help but sit up straighter. Did my mother know Ella was faking? The next second, I saw my mother gently tap Ella, her tone reproachful: “What if Anna sees you like this?” My breath caught. Ella pouted impatiently: “I’ve been pretending for fifteen years.” “I’m so tired. Can’t you just stop having Anna pick me up from school? I can get home by myself.” She clung to my mother’s arm, acting cute. In the past, my mother always gave in when Ella acted cute. But this time she shook her head, her tone leaving no room for argument: “No. There are too many dangers on the way to and from school. Anna must protect you!” I looked down at my broken body. Ella’s muttering drifted over: “I’m not really a porcelain doll. Can’t I just relax for this little bit of time?” My mother rarely put on a stern face, even her tone becoming heavy: “I said no and I mean it. You’re a porcelain doll in my eyes, and you can’t get hurt at all!” Their voices gradually faded into the distance. I stood behind the tree, almost turning into a statue. Only when their figures disappeared around the corner did I slowly move my eyes. So it was all fake. They’d lied to me, tricked me into recklessly protecting Ella for fifteen years.

When I got home, cheerful laughter drifted hazily from inside. The moment the key entered the lock, all sound stopped. I struggled to wheel myself through the door. Despite being extremely careful, I almost fell to the floor. I’d begged my mother so many times to have someone remove the threshold at the entrance. She always said okay, okay, okay. But no one ever came. Yet the foam padding on every corner of the house was replaced within a minute if even a single piece was missing. Thinking of what I’d just witnessed, I opened my mouth, my voice hoarse as I called out, “Mother.” No one answered. When I looked up, I found my mother staring coldly at me. She demanded: “Why didn’t you pick Ella up just now?” “Do you know Ella almost got hit by a car on her way home! If I hadn’t happened to be there, Ella would be in the hospital right now!” I looked at my mother’s face, flushed red with anger. I thought inappropriately that my mother really understood me well. Every time she said something like this, I would protect Ella even more carefully out of guilt. Even those floating comments knew it. [This trick of my mother’s never fails. Brilliant!] [After she says this, I feel like Anna would use her life to protect Ella next time.] Once a habit forms, it becomes automatic. I was stunned by my own “I’m sorry.” But my mother’s lips curved with satisfaction, seeming pleased with her tactic. “Since you know you were wrong, go bring Ella’s dinner over right now!” For the first time, I stayed rooted in place. I opened my mouth, wanting to ask why they lied to me. But I never dared to speak. Finally, I said softly: “I’m not feeling well. I want to go to my room to rest…” My mother froze. This was the first time I hadn’t obeyed her. After recovering, she furrowed her brow and raised her voice: “Go bring Ella’s dinner over, then you can rest!” Their eyes both fell on me, the cripple. Various chaotic emotions tangled together. I ignored my mother and turned my wheelchair around to head to my room. But my mother grabbed me. Her expression was ugly: “Anna, what’s wrong with you today!” “You didn’t pick up Ella, and now I ask you to bring Ella her dinner and you won’t do it. Are you trying to kill her!” My gaze swept across the distance from the living room to the kitchen—less than thirty feet. Even if Ella really was a “porcelain doll,” what could possibly happen? My mother followed my gaze and said coldly: “Have you forgotten how Ella got that scar on her head!” I hadn’t forgotten. Of course I hadn’t forgotten. That was the first time I came home in a wheelchair after breaking my leg. Ella went to get her own dinner and tripped. I couldn’t reach her in time. Ella’s head hit the floor, bleeding profusely. My mother and father nervously took her to the hospital. They were gone for half a month. I was forgotten. I could only sit in my wheelchair, struggling to make food for myself. I slept in my wheelchair for that entire half month. But when they came back, the first thing my mother and father did was blame me for not protecting Ella well enough. I raised my head, my eyes filled with a calm close to death: “I’m really tired.”

The pulling force disappeared. My mother instinctively let go. It wasn’t until I returned to my room and closed the door that her dissatisfied muttering drifted over faintly. [Anna is really strange today.] [Could she have found out that Ella being a porcelain doll is fake!] I ignored the shocked comments. My gaze swept across mine and Ella’s room. Bunk beds. She had the bottom, I had the top. Because my mother was afraid she’d be in danger climbing the ladder. I rubbed the thick calluses on my palms. All these years I’d relied on these hands to climb up and down. At first, I fell countless times. I’d asked my mother many times to change to two single beds, but it always came to nothing. It seemed like my requests were never fulfilled. The comments paused for a moment. [Don’t you think Anna is kind of pitiful?] [Pitiful? She’s just a tool to protect Ella. That’s her mission.] I smiled bitterly. The front door opened and closed. My father was home. His first words were usually to ask about Ella. Then, after noticing I wasn’t shadowing and protecting Ella as usual, he’d ask about me. It wasn’t hard to guess what my mother would tell my father. The bedroom door was soon knocked on. “Anna, come out. I have something to say to you.” I didn’t respond. My father quickly lost patience. The door was pushed open forcefully, slamming into the cabinet behind it. That was the only space in the entire room that belonged to me. From the impact, the dance costume and shoes hanging on the cabinet fell to the floor. My father didn’t even look before stepping on them. It lay quietly on the ground. Just like me. “Anna, what kind of tantrum are you throwing today?” my father’s voice was heavy. He was truly angry. My mother snorted coldly behind him: “This girl must be resentful because we keep making her protect Ella!” My father immediately put on a stern face, looking at me disapprovingly: “Anna, you’re the older sister. Isn’t it natural for you to protect Ella?” “What’s more, Ella is a porcelain doll!” What about my father? Did my father know Ella’s illness was fake? The question was almost on my lips, but my father’s voice drowned everything out. “Your mother says you’re tired. What’s so tiring about sitting in a wheelchair all day?” My heart suddenly felt hollow. The answer didn’t seem to matter anymore. I pressed my lips together, silently enduring my parents’ barrage of accusations. Finally, they seemed tired of talking and looked at me with confusion. Probably wondering why I’d suddenly changed. My mother’s eyes were ice-cold: “Fine, be stubborn. You don’t get any steak either!” Being denied food was too normal a punishment. After going hungry enough times, I guess I got used to it. They turned and left the living room without closing the door. The three of them laughed and chatted happily at the dinner table. The comments weren’t as active as before. [Anna’s silhouette is making me cry.] [It’s okay, it’s okay. Tomorrow Anna’s nightmare as a tool will end. After she saves Ella on stage and ends up bedridden, my parents will feel too guilty to make Anna protect Ella anymore.] I stared at the comment before me for a long time, then laughed. Was it because of guilt? It was clearly because I’d be bedridden and unable to protect Ella anymore.

The next day was the anniversary celebration at Ella’s school. This wasn’t my first time attending an event at her school. In fact, I’d been to every one. Whenever Ella went on stage, I had to be by her side. Because my parents worried there might be danger on stage. And because my broken leg forced me to drop out of school. So I was always especially happy to hear I could go to Ella’s school. On the way there, I used to excitedly ask Ella all kinds of questions. But I only ever got perfunctory answers. Today I was unusually silent. My mother glanced at me through the rearview mirror: “It’s been a whole night, Anna. Have you figured it out?” My father’s sharp eyes also locked onto me through the mirror: “If you still haven’t come to your senses, your mother and I will just pretend we don’t have a daughter like you!” I looked out the window, taking a long time before responding. “I’ve figured it out.” I seemed to hear all three of them sigh with relief. They automatically assumed I meant I’d continue protecting Ella properly from now on. My mother turned around with a beaming smile: “I knew my Anna was the most obedient!” My father’s gloomy expression also brightened: “That’s my good daughter!” “In a while, I’ll change those bunk beds in your room to single beds.” So the reason they’d refused to change the beds all along was for today. To reward me after I became their tool once again. Ella ate the snacks my mother had made for her and smiled sweetly. “Then thank you in advance, Anna.” In the past, I would have ruffled Ella’s hair and told her it was no problem. And secretly been pleased by my parents’ praise. But today I only managed a stiff twitch of my lips before turning to look out the window again. At school events, Ella usually performed ballet. After I broke my leg, my mother immediately signed Ella up for classes. Under the stage lights, Ella was like an elegant white swan. Her skin was smooth and fair. Not even a tiny scar anywhere on her body. Below the stage, besides the amazed gazes falling on Ella, there were also disgusted glances occasionally cast my way. “They’re from the same mother—how can the difference be so huge?” “The ugly duckling and the swan, literally!” “Why does Anna have to be on stage? To be laughed at?” The disdainful comments stabbed into my ears like little knives. Just like every time before. Except before, my mind was full of protecting Ella, so I never took these hurtful words to heart. I looked across the distance at my parents. They heard them but acted as if they didn’t. Their proud gazes remained fixed only on Ella. Never once speaking up for me. The comments before my eyes suddenly began scrolling frantically. [Here it comes, here it comes! The chandelier is about to fall!] [Anna, get ready! You have to save Ella!] I looked up at the dazzling chandelier overhead. Sure enough, just like the comments said, it was swaying slightly. And Ella, taking her bows on stage, was directly beneath it. I slowly turned my wheelchair amid my parents’ applause and cheers. The next second, the chandelier fell. I looked up and met my parents’ horrified expressions.

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My girlfriend Lillian’s entire family was taken hostage, and as SWAT team members, we headed out together for the rescue. During the firefight, I took a bullet while covering Lillian. Just as I was relieved that I was wearing a bulletproof vest, I noticed blood seeping through where I’d been shot. Upon inspection, I discovered that the bulletproof vest Lillian had given me was actually just a cotton vest. Faced with my pained and confused gaze, Lillian said coldly, “I swapped your vest and gave it to Carmen. He’s a rookie—his reflexes aren’t as sharp as yours. He needs to wear two vests to be safe.” Clutching my wound, I demanded furiously, “Didn’t you think I could die from getting shot?” Lillian’s face filled with anger after hearing this. “How can you be so inconsiderate of a rookie? It’s just one bulletproof vest, isn’t it?” “Besides, it didn’t even hit anything vital. What are you screaming about?” I knew arguing was pointless. After bandaging my wound, I sent a message to my dad, Chief Johnson, asking for backup: “I’ve been shot and need rescue. Also, this rescue mission needs to be temporarily canceled.”

Soon after, Lillian, as team captain, received orders from the chief to cancel the mission. She grabbed me by the collar, her eyes blazing. “You’re the one who filed that report, aren’t you?” “Don’t you realize my family is in the terrorists’ hands right now? Every second we delay puts them in more danger.” “You actually requested to cancel the mission—are you trying to get them killed?” When she yanked me like that, my freshly bandaged wound tore open again, blood spilling onto the ground. I pressed hard against the wound on my ribs, enduring the pain as I responded, “We were ambushed midway, which proves the enemy was prepared. Going to rescue them now would be walking into a trap.” “And I’ve been shot—is there something wrong with requesting backup?” Before Lillian could respond, Carmen cut in with a sarcastic tone. “Jones, I hate to say it, but you’re part of the SWAT team. You want to retreat over a little flesh wound?” “I’m embarrassed for you!” “Besides, the hostages we’re rescuing are Captain Lillian’s family—your future family too. You think you can just decide not to save them?” “Are you just a coward, or does Lillian not mean enough to you?” With his instigation, the other team members started criticizing me too. “Jones, if your skills aren’t up to par, you need more training. Running away will only make everyone look down on you more!” “We have a tradition of light wounds not leaving the front line. You want backup for a little scrape? The other teams will laugh at us.” The searing pain was unbearable, and my teammates’ mockery pushed me over the edge. I released the pressure on my wound and pointed at the blood gushing from it. “Are you all blind, or have you lost your conscience? You call this a flesh wound?” The other team members fell silent after seeing my injury, except for Carmen, who still wore a mocking, disdainful expression. “Are you proud you got shot? Showing it off like some kind of honor display.” Lillian walked up with a look of contempt. “Why is everyone else fine except you got shot?” “It’s because you slack off during training, so you’re useless in real combat. And you have the nerve to complain?” I wanted to defend myself, but the piercing pain made me not want to say another word. As I continued losing blood, my vision grew increasingly blurry, everything before me swaying. Fortunately, I had sent out that distress signal in time, or the consequences would have been unthinkable. Just when I thought Lillian would order a retreat, I heard her command everyone to keep moving forward. “Everyone, move out. While the terrorists aren’t on alert yet, let’s take down their hideout in one strike and rescue the hostages.” I struggled to my feet, gritting through the pain. “You… you want to disobey orders?” The corner of Lillian’s mouth curled as she said coldly: “I’m the field commander for this operation. I have final say!” “I won’t let some coward interfere with the smooth execution of this rescue!” Seeing her crazed state, I knew arguing was pointless and stopped trying. “Lillian, I understand you’re desperate to save them, but I’ve been shot. I can’t keep moving with you all. I can only wait here for rescue.” “No way!” Before Lillian could give orders, Carmen spoke up first. He looked at me sinisterly. “If we leave him here, he’ll definitely tell the chief that Captain Lillian deliberately disobeyed orders.” “To clear herself of that charge, we have to take him with us!” “If he dares talk nonsense, we’ll pin the whole disobeying orders thing on him!”

The other team members, intimidated by Lillian and Carmen’s authority, echoed their agreement. I looked at the ice-cold Lillian and said emotionally, “Lillian, counting today, I’ve saved you four times.” “The first time was four years ago. I dug you out of a pile of corpses and carried you for three days and nights to get out of the desert.” “You were so moved you cried, saying you’d spend your life repaying me, vowing to never betray me.” “I know I don’t matter to you anymore, but I hope you can give me one chance to escape, for the sake of how many times I’ve saved you.” Hearing this, Lillian seemed slightly moved and was about to speak when Carmen interrupted. “Lillian, you can’t be too soft-hearted.” “Leaving him here will ruin everything!” “The rescue operation might get canceled because of one word from him.” At this, Lillian’s brows furrowed as she looked at me coldly. “Don’t try to blackmail me with those things. That’s all in the past.” “For this operation, you’re the only one familiar with the enemy’s terrain. If you don’t go, how can we rescue the hostages?” “That’s right! Jones has to go. Don’t think you can play dead here!” Carmen quickly chimed in. Looking at these two disgusting people, I knew reason wouldn’t work, so I played my last card. “Don’t mess around. Police Chief Johnson is actually my dad. If you treat me like this, he won’t let you get away with it!” “Ha ha ha…” Carmen laughed maniacally. “That’s hilarious! Jones, I never thought you’d be such a coward that you’d claim random people as your father just to save your life.” The others mocked me too. “How could Chief Johnson have a son with a completely different surname?” Lillian even slapped me hard across the face. “Jones, I’m ashamed to have a boyfriend like you!” “If you spout one more word of nonsense, I’ll blow your head off!” With that, she actually pressed her gun to my forehead. I knew they were determined to take me along, so I stopped explaining but made one request. “I’ll go with you, but you have to make Carmen return that bulletproof vest to me.” “I’m injured and can’t move easily…” “Shut up!” Before I could finish, Lillian cut me off sharply. “You’re injured, so naturally you have no combat capability. Why waste a bulletproof vest?” “I’ll say it one more time—Carmen is participating in combat for the first time and has no experience. He must have two bulletproof vests to be safe!” Watching Lillian speak these biased words with such righteousness, I couldn’t help feeling heartbroken. I never imagined that my girlfriend, who once had eyes only for me, would disregard my life and death for another man. Ever since Carmen joined the team, she’d been acting possessed, her eyes constantly following him. Before, I thought she just enjoyed looking at handsome guys, just eye candy, nothing more. After all, we’d survived life and death together many times—she couldn’t possibly betray our years of feelings. Now it seemed I was terrifyingly stupid. Seeing I still wasn’t moving, Lillian clicked a round into the chamber with a loud snap and pressed it against my forehead. “Don’t think I won’t shoot. Get up now. Move!”

Left with no choice, I clutched my wound and struggled to my feet. “I’ll help you, Jones.” Carmen walked over with a fawning expression. Before I could refuse, he viciously struck my wound with his gun butt, making tears stream down my face from the pain. I endured the pain and shoved Carmen away hard. “Get lost!” Carmen let out an exaggerated cry and fell dramatically to the ground. Without a word, Lillian came forward and shoved me hard. “What are you doing? Carmen was trying to help you, and you push him?” Carmen took the opportunity to add fuel to the fire. “I wore Jones’s bulletproof vest, so it’s normal he’s angry. I don’t mind taking some abuse if it helps Jones calm down and properly lead us to rescue the hostages.” Hearing this, Lillian’s eyes blazed with fury. She came forward and slapped me twice across the face. “Don’t think you can bully him just because Carmen is kind-hearted. I won’t allow it!” “If you dare hurt him, I’ll make you pay back double!” She used all her strength with those slaps, making my ears ring and my face burn, but my heart hurt even more. I had no energy to explain, nor did I want to. “I can walk myself. I don’t need his help.” “You don’t need my help—you just want to take the chance to run away.” Carmen looked at me maliciously, speaking in a sarcastic tone. Lillian glanced at me with disgust. “Jones, you keep causing trouble. If you delay my rescue, I definitely won’t let you off!” Then she turned to Carmen. “Watch him. If he makes any suspicious moves, execute him on the spot.” “Anyway, we’re in a combat zone right now. Any accident can be explained away.” I knew she said this deliberately for me to hear, and I knew she was capable of it. These team members were all trained by her. Even if she really did something terrible to me, they would definitely take her side. A wise man doesn’t fight when the odds are against him. I just hoped the rescue team would arrive soon. After Carmen helped me up, he dragged me forward at a run, completely ignoring that my wound was bleeding more and more. After a violent sprint, my breathing became increasingly difficult, my vision darkening, as if my heart would stop beating at any second. Just then, several dark figures flashed through the alley ahead. Lillian called out in a low voice, “Take cover. Suspicious persons ahead.” Before Lillian finished speaking, Carmen shoved me forward hard, throwing me right into the intersection of two alleys. At the same time, the clicking sound of a machine gun being loaded came from not far down the alley. I knew if I hesitated another second, I’d be turned into swiss cheese. I used what little strength I had left and threw myself toward the wall corner. Unexpectedly, when I crashed into it, the wall collapsed with a crash. As the wall fell, gunfire erupted by my ears. Fortunately I dodged quickly, or I’d be dead. Taking advantage of their engagement, I crawled over the collapsed wall and hid in a small dark room. I used my locator to send another distress signal, hoping the rescue team could find me soon. The gunfire outside rang out for a while before stopping quickly. Looked like they’d encountered a small force that retreated after exchanging fire. Hiding in the little dark room, I didn’t dare breathe heavily. My enemies weren’t just the terrorists, but also those teammates who wanted me dead. I stared at that door missing a corner, both hoping the people coming to save me would push through soon, and fearing that whoever came through would be there to harm me. Just as I was torn with anxiety, the door creaked open.

A tall, thin figure pushed through the door with a sinister smile. When I fully made out his features, my heart sank. Damn, it was that bastard Carmen. I tried to curl myself into as small a ball as possible, praying in my heart he wouldn’t see me. “Stop hiding, Jones. I can see you.” I looked up to find the bastard was already right in front of me. I forced out what breath I had. “What are you here for?” Carmen smiled darkly. “To rescue you, of course, my good teammate.” “Get away from me. I’d thank God if you just didn’t harm me.” “Don’t be so proud. I found a bottle of iodine to disinfect your wound.” With that, he reached out to tear off my bandage. I tried desperately to push him away, but having lost too much blood, my hands were powerless and couldn’t stop him at all. After he ripped off the gauze, he actually stuck his finger directly into my wound and tore it viciously, ripping my wound into a gaping hole as blood gushed out. “Ahhh…” The piercing pain made me scream involuntarily, and then I kicked Carmen flying, sending him crashing into the wall. That kick used all my remaining strength. Carmen wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, brushed the dust off his backside, and smiled coldly. “I just performed a little surgery on you. Don’t worry, you’ll be fine soon.” “I have no grudge against you. Why do you have to harm me…” “No grudge? You…” Just then, Lillian burst through the door with others. Seeing people arrive, Carmen immediately fell backward, clutching his chest and wailing. “Jones, I was just trying to bandage your wound. Why did you kick me?” Hearing that I’d kicked Carmen, Lillian immediately rushed over to kick me, but Carmen grabbed her. He probably feared Lillian would see my torn-open wound. “Forget it, Lillian. I can’t blame Jones for being angry at me. If I hadn’t worn his bulletproof vest, he wouldn’t have been injured. It’s normal for him to hate me.” “Carmen, you’re just too kind. But you have to choose who deserves kindness. Someone like Jones—no matter how well you treat him, he won’t appreciate it.” “Today I’m definitely going to teach this ungrateful bastard a lesson for you!” With that, she shook off Carmen and charged at me furiously. Just as she lifted her foot to kick me, her expression suddenly changed and she froze completely. “You… how are you hurt this badly? You only got shot in the ribs—how are your intestines hanging out?” I used my last bit of strength to point at Carmen. “He… it was him…” “He means I was the one who bandaged him.” Before I could finish, Carmen interrupted me. Carmen looked utterly righteous. “When I found Jones, he was already like this. He probably caught his wound on something while escaping and tore it open.” At this point, he looked around slowly and said, “Looking at it now, Jones’s injury is beyond saving. It’s time we made a decision.” Lillian asked worriedly, “You mean…” “Exactly. He’s in this condition now—we definitely can’t take him with us. If he falls into the terrorists’ hands, he’ll inevitably reveal our whereabouts.” “Better we end his suffering now. It’ll let him go peacefully and prevent the risk of our location being exposed.” Carmen spoke with such righteousness, as if he was doing this entirely for my benefit. Hearing they wanted to make a move on me, everyone looked hesitant. Seeing their hesitation, Carmen continued, “If you’re not afraid of Jones leaking information and getting everyone killed here, just pretend I didn’t say anything.” Hearing this, Lillian finally took a stance. “Let’s do as Carmen says. This way we’re helping Jones reduce his suffering.” Hearing the captain had spoken, the others could only agree. Carmen had someone bring over a basin of water and took out some paper towels. “We each take a paper towel, soak it in water, then press it over his face. In just a few minutes, he’ll stop breathing.” “This way we all have a part in it, so no one will dare report us.” Hearing this, everyone lowered their guard and started soaking paper to cover my nose and mouth. After several sheets were placed over my face, my breathing became increasingly difficult. Just as I thought I was about to die, suddenly a team burst through the door, the leader shouting sternly, “Stop!” Everyone froze when they saw who had arrived.

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While negotiating with an important client, I had my phone on silent all day. Who knew that when I got back, I’d be stopped by my fiancée Livia’s male secretary, Parker: “You didn’t reply ‘received’ in the work group chat today. That’s a five-thousand-dollar fine!” I assumed he didn’t know about my work schedule and paid him no mind. The next day, Livia actually kicked me out of the company, with Parker fanning the flames on the side. “The company has long had a rule that you must reply to work messages within two minutes. You’re using your high position to break the law yourself—isn’t that setting a bad example?” Livia actually spoke up for him too: “You’re showing contempt for the rules! You’re suspended. You’ll stay suspended until you pay up!” I looked down at the materials I’d worked so hard on for the bidding project and laughed. Then I called my eldest sister, Porter. “I’ve got a fifty-million-dollar winning bid project to give you. Also, I’m accepting that job offer you made before. I’ll start at your company in three days.”

“What’s this? You’ve finally come around? Didn’t you refuse to come back even when I offered you a million-dollar annual salary?” Porter’s tone was full of teasing. Thinking of how Livia had made me leave the company because of Parker, I couldn’t help but smile bitterly. “Don’t even mention it. As long as your company doesn’t have rules like ‘get fined if you don’t reply received in the work group within five minutes,’ that’s good enough. I’ll report to your place in three days.” “Then it’s settled. You can’t back out this time!” Not long after I finished talking with Porter, Livia called me. “I left the bidding documents in my car. Come get them for me.” Parker’s deliberately amplified voice came through. “Ms. Livia, these tasks are what I, as an assistant, should do. How can we have Mr. Joseph do them? Mr. Joseph already resents me after being fined today. Let me go instead…” That stern female voice didn’t even think twice before comforting him. “It’s so hot out, and you have a weak constitution—you’re not suited for running back and forth. Besides, he showed contempt for company rules. You were just doing your duty by giving him a friendly reminder.” “Joseph, I’m only giving you ten minutes. If I don’t see those documents, pack up your things and leave the company!” The call was hung up mercilessly. I stood there stunned for a long time, then laughed at myself mockingly. My fiancée had scolded me without question for the sake of another man. She’d even made me take over what should have been someone else’s task because she felt sorry for him. I still went to get the documents—after all, I still needed to hand things over for my resignation. Livia took the documents. I was about to bring up resigning when, without even looking at me, she handed the documents directly to Parker. “I’m announcing something now. Because Joseph showed contempt for company rules, I’ve decided to demote him.” “From now on, Parker will take over Joseph’s position. Joseph will be demoted to assistant to support his work.” Parker looked at her with flattered surprise. “I… Ms. Livia, you’re so good to me!” “It’s just a bit hard on Joseph. But you’ve been Vice President for several years now and had enough leisure time. You should work as an assistant for a while to get some proper training.” Listening to Livia heap praise on him, my heart felt as if it were being strangled by a pair of hands—for a moment, the pain left me unable to breathe. Everyone at the company knew I was Livia’s fiancé, but under her management, I’d never received any special treatment because of that relationship. On the contrary, she was even stricter with me than with ordinary employees. I started from the bottom, drank until I ended up in the hospital, secured countless projects—all just to make it to Vice President. She always said, “I don’t want you to be treated differently because you’re my fiancé. This is how I’m tempering you.” But when it came to Parker, her principles could bend again and again. Parker’s face was full of smugness as he pulled out several reimbursement forms. “Joseph, when you’re in a position, you do the work. So I’ll have to enforce the rules. These are receipts from the hotels you stayed at on previous business trips.” “The company has long said we need to cut costs, yet you still stayed at five-star hotels. You’re just an assistant now—these expenses can’t be reimbursed.” Livia snorted coldly and praised him. “You’ve just taken over and already know how to create profits for the company. My judgment really is excellent.” My fingertips dug deep into my palms as I forced myself to stay calm. “You can give the Vice President position to whoever you want, but I won’t accept this assistant position.” “I came here specifically to resign. And Livia, let’s cancel our engagement.”

[Your onboarding procedures are all set. Just come report for duty the day after tomorrow.] I received Porter’s message while I was packing my luggage, preparing to leave what had once been our wedding home. Livia came back with Parker. Seeing me at home, she frowned. “Why are you here?” My hands paused in their movement. I couldn’t help but reply sarcastically. “You must have forgotten—this is my home too.” She seemed not to have expected this attitude from me, who had always been so compliant. After a moment of surprise, she softened her tone. “Parker’s neighborhood has had security issues lately. He’s now the company’s Vice President with significant authority. As his superior, I should naturally show concern.” “So I’ve decided to let him stay at our place for the time being, until he’s saved enough money to move out.” This was clearly an announcement, not a request for my agreement. Parker stepped forward with fake sincerity. “Joseph, I don’t want to intrude on your and Ms. Livia’s life either, but Ms. Livia was so worried about me being alone that she insisted I stay here.” “She even said that you’re older and more tolerant, so you wouldn’t mind these things.” Over these years, I’d heard countless provocative remarks like this, but this time my heart was already unmoved. I picked up my luggage and said coldly. “Do as you please. I already said the engagement is cancelled. Who you want to bring into this room has nothing to do with me.” Near the entryway, Livia suddenly grabbed my hand, saying with displeasure. “A whole night has passed and you still haven’t calmed down? Yesterday you embarrassed me in front of so many people and I didn’t even make an issue of it. What exactly are you trying to pull?” “Pull?” I laughed mockingly, pressing down all the questions I wanted to ask her and Parker. Looking at this carefully decorated wedding home, I suddenly felt pathetically foolish. In this house, she had once knelt on one knee to propose to me. “Joseph, I promise you—I’ll never let you suffer even a little bit ever again.” In the past, whenever we had even the slightest conflict, she would immediately put down her work to comfort me. But now, knowing full well that I was upset, she dealt with it by giving me the cold shoulder for a night to “calm down on my own.” I shook off her hand and said flatly. “I’m serious about cancelling the engagement. I’ll have you submit my resignation letter for me.” Parker suddenly rushed forward to block me, bowing and apologizing profusely. “Joseph! This is all my fault! I shouldn’t have come here and made you think I was taking your place!” “I’ll resign right now and never appear in front of Ms. Livia again!” With those words, he rushed out the door. Livia clenched her fists tight, pushed me away hard, and roared furiously. “Joseph! Won’t you be happy until you’ve driven Parker to his death?! The whole company has been talking about him because of yesterday’s incident. He only fined you to set an example for everyone else!” “If he doesn’t live and travel with me, he’ll be ostracized by everyone at the company! This is me atoning for your sins! There’s nothing between Parker and me—can you please put away those filthy thoughts of yours!” I crashed into the cabinet by the door, my lumbar vertebrae nearly breaking. And she left with a slam of the door, not even looking back once.

I prepared my onboarding documents to go to Porter Group, but just before leaving, Livia’s secretary called me. “Mr. Joseph, Mr. Parker hasn’t approved your resignation letter. He wants you to come to the company in person. This is also Ms. Livia’s instruction.” Ms. Livia’s instruction—this was clearly forcing me to go back. Without the resignation procedures completed, the bidding project would still be with Livia’s company. That project was something I’d negotiated by humbling myself countless times. Now that it had finally won the bid, I had to take it with me. Parker looked down at me condescendingly and threw the resignation letter on the ground. “Sorry about that, Joseph. You were Vice President for so many years and you still can’t write a proper resignation letter? You didn’t even clearly write out the project handover. I can’t approve this.” Looking at the resignation letter that had been revised dozens of times on the floor, I clenched my fists and laughed mockingly. “Deliberately targeting me? Parker, I just don’t bother competing with you. Otherwise, with your qualifications, how would you even deserve to sit in the Vice President’s seat?” I picked up the letter and looked at him coldly. “Speaking of which, you did remind me. The projects I’ve worked on over the years all involve the company’s lifeblood. It really isn’t your place to approve them.” Parker arrogantly blocked my way and stuffed a lacy lingerie nightgown into my hands. “Oh, you’re going to see Ms. Livia? Perfect. Help me return this nightgown to Ms. Livia. Last night, Ms. Livia saw I was in a bad mood and insisted on wearing this to cheer me up.” “Let me tell you, never mind firing you for not replying to a message. Even if I said you entered the company with your left foot first and that was wrong, Ms. Livia would listen to me and tell you to get lost!” “Oh, I almost forgot—this outfit got dirty last night when we both got a bit excited. Joseph, wash it for me before you return it. You’ve done plenty of laundry and cooking anyway.” Rage surged from my feet to my head. I could no longer hold back and swung my fist at his face. “Parker, you’re actually proud of being a homewrecker?!” The force clearly wasn’t that great, yet he fell to the ground with a thud, covering his face and crying out in admission of fault. “Joseph, I was wrong, but the resignation letter must follow proper procedures! Hitting me won’t help—anyone would have to follow this process!” Following his words came an aggressive sound of the door being kicked open. Livia looked at him on the ground and, without a moment’s thought, raised her hand and slapped my face. “Joseph! You actually dared to hit Parker!” A burning pain spread across my face. Looking at Livia’s bone-chillingly cold eyes, it took me a while to realize what had happened. “Apologize.” She spoke icily, looking at me with eyes like ten-thousand-year-old ice, piercing me until my whole body went cold. “Won’t you even ask what happened?!” My eyes reddened. I felt my head splitting with pain. I could barely stand steady. “You hit Parker and you still think it’s Parker’s fault?! You’re being completely unreasonable now. Get out of my way! I need to take Parker to the hospital!” She pushed me aside impatiently. With my ears ringing and head dizzy, her push actually made me fall to the ground. She paused while holding Parker’s hand, about to come help me up, when Parker suddenly cried out. “Livia, what do I do? My head feels so dizzy. I don’t know if Joseph’s punch just now injured my brain!” Anxiety filled Livia’s eyes. She looked at me, then at Parker, and finally let go of me. Before losing consciousness, what echoed in my mind was still that deafening slap. And that hard-to-believe yet unavoidable truth. The woman who used to make me breakfast every day had actually raised her hand against me for another man’s sake.

When I woke up, I found myself carried to Livia’s office, lying on the cold floor. Parker was lying on the couch while Livia tenderly disinfected the minor scratches on his face. Hearing me regain consciousness, she turned around, her tone unfriendly. “The doctor already came by. Your punch almost gave Parker internal injuries. Parker is kindhearted—he’s waiving the medical fees.” “You should apologize to Parker.” Parker’s eyes were full of smugness. “Joseph, I really can’t speak up for you this time. The whole company knows you hit me. If there’s no response, how can I establish my authority in the future?” “I’m not asking you to do much—just apologize. Tomorrow I’ll post the video of your apology to the employee group chat, and we’ll consider this matter closed.” I struggled to get up and handed the resignation letter to Livia. “You really don’t need to humiliate me like this. I won’t apologize. Sign it.” She glanced disdainfully at the resignation letter and sneered. “Still trying to use this tactic to threaten me? Where could you possibly go after leaving my company? Don’t think I don’t know—you just don’t want to apologize, so you’re using resignation to scare me.” “Joseph, this is your last chance. If I really sign this, you’ll regret it when it’s too late.” “Apologize!” Anger had already colored her face, but my attitude remained firm. My hand holding out the resignation letter hung frozen in midair. She suddenly laughed coldly twice and snatched the resignation letter, signing it. “Fine! Let’s see where you’ll find another place that lets you live such a life of luxury after leaving me!” “Get out!” Under the watchful eyes of everyone at Livia’s company, I packed up my things and left without looking back.

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When he promised me a bright future, his eyes held only me. Back then we had nothing, cramming ourselves into a rented room to eat stale bread. He held me and said, “When the company goes public, I’ll marry you.” I stayed with him through the hardest days, from a basement startup to a ten-billion-dollar fortune. I naively waited for that day. But when the company finally went public, he held the hand of a woman in white and said to me, “Sophia, you need to be understanding.” The day news of his marriage to Charlotte spread, I was doing my makeup. Aaron carefully carried in documents, not daring to lift his head even once. He’d been by Ethan’s side for a long time, witnessing all our vows of eternal love. Even he knew to feel guilty. What about you, Ethan? I laughed self-mockingly and casually took the documents without signing. “Where is he?” Aaron lowered his head even further. “Mr. Sterling is in a meeting and can’t get away, but he’s been thinking of you constantly.” My smile didn’t reach my eyes. “He’s with Charlotte, isn’t he?” Aaron fell silent. So I’d guessed right. Whatever. I watched Aaron leave. Outside, unseasonable snow began to fall, landing lightly on my heart. My first meeting with Ethan was in weather just like this. My father returned from a business trip with a young man at his side. He wore a black coat. Though young, his sharp eyes radiated calm authority. I stood behind the corridor. My father spotted me and beckoned me over. “This is my daughter Sophia. She’s my only child. I’ve spoiled her terribly. If she offends you, I’ll discipline her myself.” I stood frozen, thinking only that this young man was impossibly handsome, forgetting to respond. He smiled, his eyes showing a trace of gentleness that made my vision blur. I didn’t know then that he would become a business titan worth billions. I called him Ethan and pestered him to teach me about business. He showed no impatience. Through blazing summers and bitter winters, he accompanied me running deals on the front lines. My mother teased me. “Your father used to make you wake early to review reports, and you’d cry like a monkey. Now look at you, running to the office every day. You’ve gotten taller and darker. You don’t look like a girl at all. I wonder how you’ll ever get married.” I said it didn’t matter, but my hands kept applying skincare products. A young girl’s feelings are always transparent. I loved his composure, his occasional melancholy, his every word and action, his every gesture. Ethan treated me well too. In his spare time he’d take me to drink wine. Each time he returned from business trips, he brought me novel gifts. I was spirited and impulsive, yet this decisive man used nothing but gentle words with me. Besides my father and my brother Jason, he was the best man to me. The world was in chaos then, the internet wave sweeping in, countless startups rising and falling. My family had been in business for generations. My father wasn’t rigid like ordinary men – from childhood he taught me finance, strategy, management, and business logic. As a child I hated these lessons, always envying the neighbor girl who could act spoiled and throw tantrums, while I got scolded by my father if my PowerPoints weren’t good enough. Fortunately, Ethan was a good teacher. He never spoke harshly to me. Even when extremely frustrated, he’d just take a deep breath and smile with resignation. “Sophia, the cherries in the suburbs are ripe. Let me take you to pick some.” I tossed aside my laptop and followed him. He drove me to an orchard, nimbly climbed a tree, and picked a bag of cherries. I munched happily on the cherries. A breeze blew gently. He sat on the hillside in his black clothes, staring intently at the cherries in his hand. Ethan’s mother had loved cherries most. Back then I was carefree and didn’t recognize the emotion he was emanating – called sorrow. That autumn night, I watched fireworks with him but encountered an attack by business rivals. We fled together, scrambling into an abandoned factory. He had multiple knife wounds and soon developed a high fever. He became delirious with fever, mumbling half-conscious, “Mom, I picked cherries for you. Please try them.” Only then did I learn his family had suffered a major tragedy. That tragedy was extremely brutal. I couldn’t imagine how an eight-year-old Ethan survived that disaster. Touching his burning body, my heart ached terribly. I soaked my clothes in cold water, moved swiftly through the night, removed his shirt and held his solid chest, trying to cool him down. After several trips, he finally wasn’t burning anymore. At dawn the next day, the morning chill made me sneeze. Ethan, nestled in my arms, suddenly woke. Our eyes met. Ethan, who’d faced a dozen thugs the night before without changing expression, now touched his bare upper body and for the first time blushed. Shortly after returning, I fell ill. I lay in bed like a dead fish, my throat burning. Ethan was devastated, sitting by the bed feeding me almond milk, staying awake for four whole days. Finally my mother couldn’t stand it and persuaded him to change clothes and sleep. Before turning twenty, Ethan could already lead a team to secure agency rights for the entire East Coast region. My father praised him endlessly whenever he mentioned him. He said Ethan was accomplished beyond his years, with immeasurable prospects, and wanted to betroth me to him. My mother said Ethan was no ordinary man and worried. My father laughed heartily, saying his daughter naturally deserved the best man in the world. I eavesdropped outside the door. Truth was, since that night in the factory, I’d already considered myself Ethan’s. But if you’d lived to see this day, you’d surely regret that decision.

I was with Ethan for seven years. When he turned thirty, when his company went public and he was worth billions, the person he chose to marry wasn’t me. He held Charlotte’s hand. They chatted pleasantly. The woman wore a white dress, gentle and lovely, delicate as a flower. Of course. A man like Ethan should naturally like someone like Charlotte. Charlotte was his biggest investor’s daughter. Now he needed capital to consolidate his empire. A marriage alliance was the best choice. I should have known. I stumbled back to the apartment in a daze, but in my mind was the night we got our marriage certificate at nineteen. He held me and said, “Sophia, I, Ethan Sterling, will never let you down in this lifetime.” The night I discovered him with Charlotte, I said I wanted to leave. For the first time in his life he lost his temper with me, his suppressed anger barely contained. “Sophia, you need to be understanding.” But I’m your wife! I couldn’t suppress the sourness in my eyes, stubbornly refusing to look at him. We remained at an impasse for a while. Finally he softened his voice, trying to reason with me. “She and I are just business partners. I only love you. After all these years, don’t you know that?” I said nothing. He continued. “I’ll make you company vice president with the same stake as me. You won’t have to bow to anyone.” I looked deeply at his features. They were no different from before, yet I couldn’t find a trace of familiarity. Was he still my Ethan? “Can I make one request?” He breathed a sigh of relief, thinking I’d compromised, and quickly asked what I wanted. “Let Jason go.” He froze, instinctively saying, “No.” I laughed coldly and pointed to the door, telling him to leave. “I’ll agree to anything you ask, except this. Sophia, don’t make this difficult for me.” Making it difficult – as if I were being unreasonable. When Ethan conquered half his business empire, my father died in that merger war. I held his cold body, crying until no more tears came. He, usually calm and composed, also reddened his eyes. I said I no longer had a father. He pulled me into his arms, lips trembling, saying “don’t be afraid” over and over. My family poured out all our wealth and exhausted all our connections for Ethan. Jason was sent to prison by him on charges of “corporate espionage,” while I was placated with a vice president position. Jason fought alongside him in the business world, but in the end, Ethan couldn’t tolerate him. Since my father’s death, they’d gradually developed conflicts and began competing openly and covertly. Ethan worried Jason’s prestige would exceed his own. The first thing he did after going public was fabricate evidence and send him to prison with a heavy sentence. I didn’t blame him. But he shouldn’t have used such charges to tarnish Jason’s name. I looked at him pleadingly, crushing my former pride. What did it matter – spending a lifetime at the company, competing with many women for one man’s favor, becoming what I once despised most? Compared to Jason’s life, what did it matter? I traded my compliance for his promise – to let Jason serve his sentence under house arrest, leave the business world, and never step foot in this circle again. Seeing me like this for the first time, he contemplated for a long while before finally saying softly, “Alright.” After many days, a weight finally lifted from my heart. I sincerely thanked him. As long as someone’s alive, there’s still hope.

Before the wedding, I didn’t see Ethan once. I stood before the floor-to-ceiling windows, gazing at the city skyline. How absurd – just a year ago today, I was chasing Ethan across the desert in an SUV. Now I’d become a resentful woman confined to her chambers. The hotel was holding a ceremony. Even from miles away, the exuberant cheers reached my ears. My assistant Peach came out, saying my health was poor and I couldn’t stand the cold wind. I should go back inside. I found it somewhat amusing. Once upon a time I could work three days and nights straight, praised as an iron lady with heroic grace. Now people said my health was poor. Thinking carefully, I hadn’t slept well in a very long time. I asked Peach to bring me sedatives. After taking them I prepared for sleep. Ethan came home half-drunk, stumbling into my apartment. He kissed my lips as he used to, removed my clothes, and bent his head to work. I suddenly spoke. “Is this how you treat Charlotte too?” He froze abruptly and climbed off me. “Why bring her up?” I smiled and dressed. “Now she’s the legitimate Mrs. Sterling.” I still remembered when he’d first achieved success, someone sent him a female celebrity. I made a scene at the company, humiliating the partner who sent her. Ethan just looked at me with indulgence and laughed, dismissed the person, and bought me a limited-edition sports car to appease me. Back then, I wouldn’t allow anyone to take any of Ethan’s love. “When we’re together, let’s not mention others, okay?” He patiently coaxed me, wanting me to act spoiled with him like before. I smiled bitterly. “That I’m still willing to stay here is already my biggest concession. From now on, don’t come to my place.” He sat up abruptly, gripping my face in the dim light, forcing me to look at him. “Sophia, what do you mean?” I looked directly at him. “I made myself very clear. Don’t you understand?” Anger flashed in his eyes, like a venomous wolf. My shoulder had an old injury – from when I’d blocked a knife for him. It ached unbearably on rainy days. But now he paid no heed to my injury, gripping my shoulder with brutal force. I curled up in pain. He ignored it, still ramming recklessly. “Sophia! No one can defy me!” That night was exceptionally long. Afterward, he tossed me aside like a rag. “Think it over. I’m leaving.” The lights went out. Tears slid down my face, burying themselves in my hair. I suddenly felt panicked. If my father and mother had spirits in heaven, what would they think seeing me like this? Ethan, you promised my father. You can’t treat me this way.

The night before Jason left, I visited him at the detention center. After this parting, I didn’t know when my brother and I would meet again. Seeing the wounds on Jason’s hands, my nose stung. “I’m useless. I couldn’t protect you.” He shook his head. “What kind of man needs his sister’s protection? How embarrassing would that be?” He was silent for a long time, then suddenly spoke. “My father and I failed to judge character and let a wolf into our home. How could I blame you? From now on you’ll be alone. It’ll be hard on you.” I wiped away tears. “Live well after you get out. Don’t harbor any rash thoughts. Ethan now isn’t the same as he was.” No one could oppose him anymore. He looked at me with a smile, his messy hair unable to hide his handsomeness. “Sophia’s all grown up.” Jason left. He was restricted from leaving the country, his phone’s location tracked 24/7. He had to report to local authorities regularly and couldn’t even find decent work. My once-proud brother now struggled just to survive. I begged Ethan to help smooth things over. He agreed verbally but then arranged for Jason to go to the most remote small city, euphemistically calling it “lying low.” Ethan restricted my freedom. I couldn’t see Jason off. I gazed into the distance, silently repeating: it’s good he’s gone, it’s good he’s gone. Far from this place of conflict, to find his own vast sky. I hoped Jason’s remaining years would go more smoothly than mine. … After Ethan went public, only Charlotte and I were women in the company. I was sewing a small bag when the secretary announced Charlotte’s arrival. He’d specifically permitted me not to bow to anyone, so to this day I hadn’t met her alone. She still wore a white dress, looking pure and flawless, beautiful beyond mortal women. “I’ve been wanting to visit you, but I’ve been busy accompanying Ethan lately and couldn’t get away. I’ve only come to see you today. Please don’t blame me.” She sat down casually with a sweet smile, giving no grounds for criticism. I studied my embroidery pattern carefully. “Charlotte, you’re too kind. I can’t accept being called that. I should be the one visiting you.” She propped her chin up. “You’ve fought alongside Ethan for years. That he lets you bow to no one – what respect that shows. Unlike me, I spent my days in my chamber before. Ethan felt sorry for me and didn’t want me to live a life on the knife’s edge with him…” I paused. The needle pricked my finger. I heard the turbulent voice within my heart, though my face remained calm. “When did you two meet?” Charlotte smiled shyly, the picture of feminine charm. “Ethan and I? Three years ago, I suppose. My father greatly admired him. He promised to marry me, so my father invested to help him go public…” Three years ago, three years ago… So early… Back then we were still the couple everyone in the company envied. I looked at the pouch in my hands. I used to dislike this detailed work, but Ethan’s clothes inevitably came undone, so I learned to clumsily use a sewing needle to mend them. Ethan wore pajamas, propping his head up under the lamp watching me with a smile. “Viewing a beauty by lamplight truly has special charm.” I blushed and glared at him. “We’re an old married couple and you’re still so improper.” … My vision blurred. My attendant Peach noticed something wrong and quickly came to support me. I waved my hand indicating I was fine. “I’m not feeling well. Please leave. Come another day.” Charlotte pouted, looking bored as she left. I instructed Peach to throw away all the needlework. Peach looked regretful. “But it’s almost finished. Why would you…” I interrupted her. “No reason. I just never want to touch it again.” Something already dirty – why keep it for nostalgia?

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I was secretly married to a Hollywood A-lister for five years. He was constantly surrounded by rumors and scandals, yet he was never willing to acknowledge me publicly. On a reality TV show, everyone was prying into my love life. Even he smiled and chimed in: “Josephine, I know a lot of reliable guys. Should I set you up with someone?” In both my past life and today, I was so furious I almost pulled out our wedding ring. Then, his current rumored flame, the rising pop star Chloe White, ran out crying. Liam didn’t say anything on camera, but afterward, he grew increasingly cold towards me. In my past life, when I was rushed into the operating room due to a severe hemorrhage during my pregnancy, he didn’t even ask about me. Instead, he was celebrating Chloe’s birthday at a Michelin-starred restaurant. When the thugs Chloe hired ruined me and I begged him for help, he just watched with an indifferent expression. It was only then that I realized I was nothing more than a dirty secret, a hidden ornament in his life. Reborn into this life, I just smiled: “I’m already seeing someone. He’s not in the industry. We’re getting married at the end of the month.” 01 Gasps echoed around the room. No one expected me to announce my relationship on a live broadcast. Liam’s face instantly darkened. The paper cup in his hand was crushed out of shape. He opened his mouth to say something, but Chloe, sitting next to him with a bright smile, blinked her big eyes and beat him to it: “Wow! Josephine, you hid that so well! If you hadn’t lost this round of Truth or Dare, were you planning to keep it a secret forever?” This was a live-streamed reality show, and Chloe’s words instantly set the chat on fire. [Josephine’s fans must be devastated! Your idol ditched you to go date someone!] [Hehe, our Chloe is the best. Focused on her career and moving up! Men, step aside!] [??? Why would we be devastated? Josephine is an actress. She conquers us with her acting skills and has won every major award. So what if she’s dating? Unlike a certain Chloe who still hasn’t achieved anything of substance!] [Besides, our Jo has said before that when the time is right, she would find someone.] I smiled faintly: “Even if I hide it well, I’m still the main chick.” In my past life, I always thought Chloe didn’t know about my relationship with Liam, that she was also being deceived. But it wasn’t until right before I died, when Chloe flaunted Liam’s devotion to her face, that I realized she knew from the very beginning. Chloe’s expression faltered, but the other guests didn’t notice. Instead, they curiously pressed for more: “Jo, who is it! Do you have a picture we can see?” “Someone outside the industry who’s worthy of our Josephine? I’m so curious!” I smiled: “He prefers to keep a low profile. Maybe I’ll introduce you guys when there’s a chance.” Just as I finished speaking, a scoff rang out. Chloe raised an eyebrow, looking at me provocatively: “Josephine, maybe this guy doesn’t even exist. Are you just making this up? After all, you’re not getting any younger. It would be pretty embarrassing to admit you don’t even have a close friend by your side. Right, Liam?” Chloe blinked at Liam and playfully stuck out her tongue. I clenched my fists. The next second, I heard Liam perfectly play along with an “Mhm.” Chloe’s smile grew even wider. I laughed at myself inwardly. Just a moment ago, I had still been hoping for something. The other guests quickly tried to smooth things over: “Don’t be mad, Jo. Chloe loves to joke around!” “This is Josephine’s private life. We shouldn’t pry too much.” I was about to speak when a male voice came from the doorway: “Excuse me, is Jo here? I’m here to pick her up from work.” 02 Everyone turned toward the voice. A young man was standing outside the door, one hand casually in his pocket. His neat, dark hair curled slightly over his temples. His brow bone was sharp, and his face was pale and strikingly handsome. When our eyes met, I froze for a second. He smiled at me: “Jo, time to clock out.” The live chat exploded. [Holy shit! Holy shit! This guy is so hot! Is this Josephine’s non-industry boyfriend?!] [Damn, I thought Josephine was lying! I can’t believe her boyfriend actually came to pick her up from work!] I stood up from my chair and waved to the people around me: “I’ll be going now.” From the moment I stood up, I felt a piercing gaze fixed tightly on me, but I didn’t look back. Just as I was about to walk out the door, Liam called out to me coldly: “Josephine!” I paused, turning to look at him: “Yes, Liam?” His face was dark, his eyes swirling with dissatisfaction. Chloe curled her lips into a smile: “Today is my birthday party, and Liam is throwing it for me. Are you not coming, Josephine?” I glanced at Liam, who remained silent. “No.” I looked away and walked out: “Happy birthday. I have other plans.” 03 That piercing gaze followed me until I got into the backseat of the car before it finally disappeared. I looked at the man beside me and thanked him: “Thank you, Arthur.” Arthur replied: “Don’t mention it, senior. I was just watching the live stream and happened to be passing by.” I smiled faintly and didn’t press further. He didn’t ask many questions either, simply saying: “Where are you heading now? I’ll drop you off.” I gave him my home address. We arrived quickly. Before I got out of the car, Arthur took out his phone and waved it at me: “Senior, let’s exchange numbers.” I hesitated for a moment, and he let out a light laugh: “You never know, I might need your help with something in the future.” Hearing this, I nodded and took out my phone: “Sure.” After adding each other’s contacts, Arthur drove off. I turned and walked into my house. This house was bought by Liam and me before we got married. It wasn’t very big, but it held all our memories. Before, when we didn’t have a packed schedule, we used to always cuddle in this house, playing video games and binge-watching TV shows. After we got married, I didn’t want to move to a new place. But now, Liam rarely came back here. As soon as I walked through the door, my manager’s call came in. “Jo, look at Twitter!” 04 [Liam x Chloe White, Official Relationship Announcement!] [What a perfect match!] I originally thought that having lived a second life, my heart would be as still as a stagnant pool of water. But the few short lines on the screen still stung my eyes. [Liam V: Let me introduce everyone to my girlfriend, my one and only. @ChloeWhite] [Chloe White: The days ahead are long. I want to walk them all with Liam~] Liam and I dated for five years and were married for five years. I waited ten years for a public announcement. Now, Liam effortlessly gave it to someone else. My manager’s voice continued on the phone: “There are rumors online saying Chloe is the other woman! Liam is doing this to protect her! “It’s so infuriating! Isn’t Chloe the actual homewrecker here? You’ve been married to Liam for so many years, and he never…” “Erica.” I interrupted her, asking softly: “When will my visa be ready?” Erica fell silent for a moment. “Have you really decided to leave the industry and go abroad?” I nodded. Ten years ago, I gave up my dreams for Liam. Now, I won’t let him delay my life any longer. 05 Liam and I were childhood sweethearts. We grew up together. When I was little, my parents passed away. I was introverted, living with relatives, and constantly bullied by the neighborhood kids. Liam always stood in front of me, protecting me, and fighting back for me. Until the year he turned fifteen. His parents’ company went bankrupt, and they jumped off a building, leaving him all alone with a massive mountain of debt. He suffered a tremendous blow and tried to end his life several times. I was the one who held him, comforting him. We were each other’s light in the darkness, relying on each other to survive. Until the year I turned eighteen. I received an acceptance letter from Stanford University, the school I had dreamed of going to. That day, Liam didn’t say anything. He just held my hand, his eyes red, and stood there all night. After that night, I rejected the acceptance letter, turned around, and accepted a talent scout’s offer to enter the entertainment industry. I wanted to pay off Liam’s debts. He was still young. He had a long road ahead of him. He couldn’t be dragged down by debt. But the entertainment industry was tough. I went to auditions, acted in minor roles, and took every gig I could get, day and night. I drank so much at networking dinners that I ended up in the hospital with stomach bleeding. Finally, in my fifth year since debuting, thanks to a hit TV show, I successfully paid off the Sterling family’s debts. People close to me asked if it was worth it. Back then, watching Liam cook for me every day and stay by my side, I felt it was all worth it. But now… The notification sound on my phone interrupted my thoughts. I looked down. It was a call from Liam. I thought for a moment and pressed the answer button. His voice was cold: “You’re pretty capable, aren’t you? Found another man to put on a show just to make me angry? “But you miscalculated. I know better than anyone how much you love me. I wasn’t angered by you at all.” I gripped my phone and said nothing. A familiar female voice came through the phone: “Liam, hurry up and cut the cake for me!” Liam responded: “Coming.” Then he said to me: “You know that Chloe and I have a new show coming out soon. Once the show finishes airing, I’ll break up with her. Don’t overthink things. “Wait for me at home tonight. I’ll bring you your favorite food.” 06 My memories drifted away. Liam was discovered by a director while visiting me on set, which led to him entering the entertainment industry. At the time, I immediately objected. Because Liam’s dream was to do scientific research. If he started acting, he would be completely disconnected from the scientific community. But to my surprise, Liam secretly went to find the director himself. Afterward, he hugged me, his eyes red as he looked at me: “Jo, I don’t want you to live a hard life with me. I want to make a lot of money so your life can get better and better.” From then on, Liam gave up his dreams for me and focused entirely on the entertainment industry. Our communication also became less and less frequent due to our busy schedules. When his first scandal broke, he took a five-hour flight overnight to come to my side. He hugged me, apologized, and said it was a misunderstanding. He said he would handle it well and told me not to overthink. I suggested we announce our marriage. He said he was afraid it would affect his career and break his fans’ hearts. The timing just wasn’t right yet. But he promised me that his wife would always only be me, and the only person by his side would be me. Ultimately, thinking of his career, I didn’t push it further. Until later… Chloe White appeared. She was almost subjected to the casting couch at a banquet. In her attempt to escape, she fell into a pool, and Liam appeared and saved her. She seemed like a pure, innocent little flower. Soaking wet, she lay in Liam’s arms. That night, the two of them trended on Twitter. Gossip blogs hyped it up wildly. That time, Liam didn’t say a single word. 07 When I snapped back to reality, Liam had already hung up. I didn’t dwell on anything else. Instead, I contacted my lawyer and drafted a divorce agreement. Before I went abroad, I definitely needed to resolve everything with Liam. But what I didn’t expect was that when Liam came home that night, he brought Chloe with him. Chloe peeked her head out from behind Liam, her face flushed. She ran towards me, giggling: “Ta-da! Josephine, hehe, we packed the leftovers from my birthday party for you. Eat up!” Liam stood there, saying somewhat helplessly: “Slow down, you’re drunk. Be careful not to trip.” After he finished, he paused and looked at me: “Chloe had too much to drink today. It’s not safe for a girl to go back alone, so she’s staying here for the night.” “Oh right, you’re pretty good at making hangover soup, aren’t you? Make a bowl for Chloe.” I stood frozen, feeling a buzzing in my ears. My hands trembled uncontrollably. It was bad enough that Liam cheated, but now he was brazenly bringing her to our home?! And asking me to make her hangover soup?! “A young female celebrity, where is her assistant?!” Whenever Chloe went out, she was always followed by three or four assistants. How could she possibly be alone! And even if she was, she could stay at a hotel! Liam frowned: “Jo, when did you become so petty?” My voice trembled uncontrollably: “This is my house! Get the hell out!” Seeing my eyes red with anger, Liam softened his tone: “Okay, Jo. I’ll contact someone right now to come pick her up.” Liam took out his phone to make a call. But the next second, a scream pierced the air. Chloe tumbled straight down the stairs! Liam’s face paled dramatically! He dropped his phone and sprinted towards Chloe! He was frantic, completely losing his usual calm demeanor. “Chloe!” Chloe lay in Liam’s arms, her eyes tightly shut. Liam’s face was dark, his eyes brewing with a turbulent storm as he glared at me. My heart skipped a beat, and I instinctively spoke: “It wasn’t me…” But the next second, Liam’s slap had already landed across my face. “Josephine, are you saying Chloe threw herself down the stairs just to frame you? She’s a celebrity! You know better than anyone how much she cares about her face!” That slap left me reeling. It also completely extinguished the flickering, fragile light at the bottom of my heart. As Liam picked up Chloe and was about to rush out, I called out to him. “Wait a minute.” I handed the divorce agreement to him: “Sign this, or don’t leave.” Liam glared at me furiously. In the past, whenever we fought, I would always cling to him, asking him to buy me things, making him sign the credit card bills just to coax myself. Now, without even looking at what it was, he just signed his name. Then he strode out, carrying Chloe. In a spot where Liam couldn’t see, Chloe curled the corners of her lips into a smirk at me. 08 The news of Chloe’s hospitalization shot to the top of the trending topics. In the photos, her forehead was wrapped in gauze. She lay weakly in a hospital bed, while Liam attentively took care of her. The internet was flooded with posts praising their deep bond. Erica had been my manager since my debut. As for the situation between me and Liam, others might not know, but she was fully aware. She cursed Liam out in front of me. “Is the visa ready, Erica?” Erica nodded: “We should have it in three days.” During these three days, I just needed to tie up some loose ends. But what I didn’t expect was that on the third day, another post would top the trending list. [BREAKING! Best Actress Josephine interferes in Liam and Chloe’s relationship!] [BREAKING! Josephine’s attempted murder of Chloe White!] I clicked on the trending topic and saw numerous gossip accounts frantically resharing two photos. One was a photo of me coming home the night before last. The other was a photo of Liam and Chloe, hand in hand, returning shortly after me. The comments underneath exploded. [Holy shit, what’s going on? Why did all three of them go into the same house?] [Fuck! That bitch Josephine! I work in the industry, and I found out that Josephine sneaked into the actor’s house last night. Chloe’s injury was caused by Josephine!] [??? Why would Josephine go into his house? This phrasing is so weird! I don’t understand!] [What kind of nonsense is this! Why would our Jo sneak into someone else’s house!] The internet was fiercely debating. Just then, a top comment surged to number one. [Josephine never had a non-industry boyfriend, she made it all up! She’s always been a delusional fangirl of Liam’s, harboring a crush on him for years! When Liam and Chloe announced their relationship, Josephine got jealous, secretly broke into his house beforehand, and pushed Chloe down the stairs! I have proof, look at the pictures I posted! Josephine used to be Liam’s biggest superfan!] When Liam first entered the entertainment industry, he didn’t have many fans. I visited him on set, created burner accounts to boost his metrics, and defended him against trolls. I did these things with extreme secrecy. Besides Liam and me, no one else knew. But now, the “evidence” photos posted by this user hit me right in the eyes! Trembling, I called Liam. He only answered on the fifth ring. “Liam, was this you…” Besides Liam, I couldn’t think of anyone else who could have released those pictures! The other end of the line was silent for a moment. After a long while, I finally heard Liam speak: “Jo, this is what you deserve. “Your words on the reality show misled netizens into thinking Chloe was the other woman, damaging her reputation and subjecting her to cyberbullying. Me going public with her wasn’t just because of our new show, it was more about salvaging her reputation and making up for your mistakes. I originally thought you would show remorse, but you pushed her down the stairs.” Liam’s words almost made me laugh until I cried. All for my sake? “So what if she’s the other woman? She’s playing the innocent, pure victim now?” “Josephine, you are being incredibly unreasonable!” Liam shouted, interrupting me. “Things have reached this point, and I don’t want the conflict between you two to deepen. You apologize to Chloe, and I’ll have her publicly state she forgives you. We’ll put this whole thing behind us.” Just put it behind us? He made it sound so easy. So easy it was as if Liam had never spent a day in the entertainment industry. I tilted my head up, refusing to let the tears fall. I wanted to say something to Liam, but then I heard another person’s voice on the line. “Mr. Cross, Chloe is awake. She wants to see you.” “I’ll be right there.” Liam replied hurriedly. When I looked at my phone again, the call had been disconnected. 09 Liam rushed towards Chloe’s hospital room. Halfway there, as if remembering something, he stopped and instructed his assistant beside him: “Did you buy the necklace I told you to get a while ago? The one Jo mentioned in passing, the one she liked.” The assistant nodded. “Have it sent to Jo.” Liam knew that Josephine had her pride. Making her bow her head to Chloe would definitely make her feel wronged. But there was nothing to be done about that. When you do something wrong, you have to accept the punishment. Good thing Jo was easy to coax. In the past, whenever she was angry, buying her a little something would fix it. “Oh right, wasn’t there a matching bracelet? Give that to Chloe.”

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Five years old. The landslide. My twin sister and I were pinned beneath a massive concrete slab. To lift it off one of us meant crushing the other beneath the leverage. The rescue foreman put the choice on our mother: a life for a life. She could only save one. In that life, she chose me. And she hated me for it every single day that followed. Because I was the one who lived, I wasn’t allowed to eat well. I wasn’t allowed to wear nice clothes. If I was in school, I had to be number one. I wasn’t allowed to cry, and I wasn’t allowed to smile. I couldn’t speak loudly, and I certainly couldn’t go out to play with friends. Whenever my mother looked at me, she would point at my sister’s funeral photo and scream, “Your sister died because of you! How dare you not be satisfied with what you have?” I understood her agony. I bore it silently. Until I was thirty, when I was diagnosed with advanced stomach cancer. My mother didn’t offer comfort; she shrieked in despair, “If I knew you were just going to die early anyway, I should have let you die back then.” What she didn’t know was that her younger daughter hadn’t actually died. Suddenly, I’m back. Beneath the stone slab. And I hear my mother voice her choice to the rescuers. “Save the younger one,” she says. In that moment, under the crushing weight, I close my eyes. All I feel is relief. 01 I’m dead. But my spirit hasn’t moved on. I find myself floating, following my mom and my sister to the hospital. Inside the ambulance, my mom looks so young. With trembling fingertips, she gently brushes the mud-caked, matted hair away from my sister’s forehead. Tears spill from her eyes, hot and fast, landing on my sister’s face. Her expression is a mix of agonizing heartbreak and a terrifying, desperate joy. Outside, the sirens are screaming. But inside the rushing vehicle, it’s a quiet sanctuary. My mom whispers over and over, softly, “Maya. Maya, sweetie. Wake up for Mommy. Open your eyes. Look at Mommy.” I have never heard that tone in her voice before. Not once in my entire memory. Not even in the life where I was the one lying in that ambulance. 02 In that life—the old life—the landslide happened just like this. We were pinned under the same slab. To save one meant crushing the other. A life for a life. My mom couldn’t make the choice. The rescue crew finally suggested a brutal tie-breaker: they would pull out whoever reacted first. My mom scrambled onto the pile of debris. She screamed our names, her voice raw, tearing at her throat. “Sarah!” “Maya!” “Sarah!” “Maya!” Over and over again. I remember lying there in the suffocating pitch black. Suddenly, I heard her voice, exactly the way she used to call us on school mornings. Just like I always did, snuggled in my blankets, I called back automatically. “Coming, Mom!” Instant shouts of jubilation erupted outside. Then came the roar of machinery, the shifting of heavy rock, and amidst it all, a woman’s piercing sob. Blinding light cut through the dark. Dozens of rough, strong hands lifted me up. As I was carried away, jostled on a backboard, I heard the snippets of conversation. “The older girl is a miracle.” “Kid’s got a guardian angel.” “Shame about the other one.” “Couldn’t be helped. Any longer, we would’ve lost both.” I was only five years old. I didn’t understand what those words meant. I just wanted to know where my mom was. Where was she? I started crying for her. Immediately, voices from the crowd surrounding me rushed to soothe me. “Your mom is right here, honey. She’s right next to you. It’s okay.” “Pinned for sixteen hours, and she’s remarkably stable. A miracle child.” Through the cacophony, I strained to find her voice. Then, I saw her. I saw her face, an unreadable mask of paralyzing grief and absolute bewilderment. Later, I often wondered why I had to be the miracle. 03 Sarah and Maya. We were identical twins. Our dad was a city bus driver. He died in the line of duty, a horrific crash, when we were only three. He left us with a life insurance payout and a cramped unit in an old, city-owned apartment building. The pillar of our family was gone. My mom took my dad’s portrait to the department headquarters. Holding it against her chest, holding Sarah in one hand and Maya in the other, she sobbed in the administrator’s office. My sister and I were zombies. We saw her cry, so we cried too. We wailed. This was in the middle of a massive wave of layoffs. Somehow, through the pity, my mom secured a job working in the transit authority’s claims department. After that, my dad’s picture was hung on the wall. He watched over the three of us as we figured out how to survive. I used to sneak glances at that photo. I always thought he looked like he was smiling. Right up until the right side of the frame was filled with my sister’s photograph. After that, I never dared to look at that wall again. Deep down, I knew Maya was only on that wall because she saved me. I was supposed to be in that frame. 04 A family of four became three, then finally two. Our tiny apartment was always silent. The front door was always kept shut. Tight. Not even the wind could blow inside. Which meant the whispers of the neighbors saying my mother was cursed couldn’t get in, either. Only the door to my room was required to be open at all times. So that my mother’s gaze could dart inside at any second. “What are you doing sitting around? Is your homework done?” “It’s done? Then review it again. You’re not just studying for yourself. You have to study for your sister, too.” “Exhausted this early? You’re doing it on purpose, aren’t you? Trying to stress me to death so you can finally be free.” “Cry, cry, cry. I’m not even crying, and you have the nerve to cry.” I became terrified of going home. But I had nowhere else to go. Everyone knew. Everyone knew my dad was dead, and that my sister died saving me. “Sarah, your mother has had a hard life. Be a good girl for her.” “Sarah, why are you still outside? Your mom is going crazy looking for you.” “Sarah, you cannot afford to be selfish.” Whenever neighbors saw me, they felt entitled to educate me on gratitude. Without realizing it, I stopped lifting my head. I started walking pressed against the walls. Waiting for me at the end of every walk was my mother’s grim, tight-lipped face. I hated going home, and I hated being in a crowd. But I couldn’t escape my home, and I couldn’t escape people. Because I was only eight years old. 05 I soon learned that eight was actually a beautiful age. I started first grade. On registration day, old Mrs. Albright, our neighbor, popped a peppermint into my mouth. She said, “Sarah, you’re in real school now. Study hard. Be something someday. Your mother’s entire future relies on you. As long as you get good grades, your mother will be happy.” I engraved that sentence onto my heart. I wanted my mother to be happy. Happy like she used to be. And sure enough, when I brought home my first perfect report card, the corners of my mother’s mouth actually lifted. It turned out it was true. Good grades made my mother happy. I began to study with a desperate vengeance. I fought to be top of the class, every single time. My mother’s smiles became more frequent. The day I was accepted into the city’s top magnet middle school with the highest entrance score, my mother took me to dad and Maya’s shrine to burn incense. She had a brilliant, genuine smile on her face. I looked up at the photos on the wall. I felt like my dad was smiling. And Maya was smiling. I smiled, too. But very quickly, I forgot how to smile. Magnet school was harder. My mom was holding the trimester ranking sheet. Her face was dark as she interrogated me. “Only ten points higher than second place? You used to beat everyone by twenty points minimum. Are you distracted? Are you doing this on purpose? Purposely trying to kill me with stress? You just want me dead so you can have an easy life, don’t you? “If it weren’t for you, I would have gone with Maya and your father. I drag myself through this miserable life solely for you.” I shook my head violently. Terror gripped me. No, that wasn’t it. I wanted to tell her. I wanted to explain. “I don’t know why. I’m just always so hungry. I’m too hungry to sleep at night. Halfway through the school day, I lose all my energy.” “Hungry?” My mom exploded. She started to weep bitterly. “I slave away every single day waiting on you hand and foot, and you have the nerve to tell me you’re hungry? Do I not feed you enough? Look at your sister! Did she ever get to eat a single hot meal that I cooked? You ungrateful, entitled brat.” I didn’t dare mention being hungry again. But hunger is a biological imperative of a growing body. Finally, during class, when my stomach let out another monstrous growl, my seatmate offered me a homemade oatmeal bar. Flush with embarrassment, I ate half. I wrapped the other half meticulously and hid it in my backpack. When I got home that night, my mother beat me savagely with a wooden spoon. “Tell me! Did you steal this? So young and already a thief. You want to end up in juvenile detention?” “Don’t call me Mom! I don’t have a criminal for a daughter.” “Given to you? Why would anyone give you anything? Why you?” “You took it, why didn’t you offer it to your sister first? You ate it all yourself! You have no conscience.” “Why is my life so miserable? I should have died back then. I should have died.” I explained over and over. I begged for mercy over and over. But the wooden spoon continued to fall, crack after crack, against my body. In the middle of that winter night, dressed in nothing but thin cotton pajamas, I was made to kneel before the photos of my father and sister. I kneeled there until dawn. I was burning up with a fever, curled on the floor. Before I lost consciousness, I saw my mother run over in a panic. She scooped me into her arms, sobbing, “Mommy’s sorry. Mommy’s sorry.” I lifted my head slightly, my gaze drifting to the wall. For the very first time, I thought: Why wasn’t it me in the frame on the right? I was thirteen years old. I had entered puberty. 06 The old folks used to say that every time a child survives a massive fever, they grow up a little bit more. I think they were right. The next time my stomach growled, I was grown-up enough to refuse my classmate’s snack. When I passed by neighbors’ homes, I was grown-up enough to refuse their kindness. “I’m not hungry.” “I’m going home to eat.” “My mom is cooking dinner.” My backpack became heavier. It wasn’t just books anymore; it held a massive thermos of water. When I was hungry, I just took a big gulp of water. The neighbors all praised me for how sensible and responsible I was. Only my seatmate in class completely ignored me. “Hmph. Snob. Too good for my oatmeal bars,” my seatmate muttered to others, not bothering to lower their voice. “Ate half my bar and the very next day she’s out with a fever for a week. Her mom actually came to the school to yell at the teacher. My God! “My mom told me that girl is her mother’s entire world, her ‘root of life.’ Told me to stay clear. If something happens to her, we can’t afford the fallout.” The group of kids around them burst into laughter. I wanted to sink through the floor. I apologized profusely, explaining I had just caught a cold from being underdressed, but more and more classmates stopped talking to me. Until one day, that seatmate hissed quietly, “You are so basic.” In the mirror of the school restroom, I finally forced myself to look at my own reflection. I was swallowed up in a deep purple, high-gloss puffy coat. I remembered then. A woman in our apartment complex had put that coat in the charity bin. My mom took it out. Looking in the mirror, watching other students walk past… most wore black puffer coats. Boys wore grey or blue. The girls had a rainbow of styles—white, pink, a sky-blue like the heavens. Just me. In my purple garbage bag of a coat. Totally out of place. Below it were clunky, old-fashioned winter boots. I had become a purple-shelled snail with concrete blocks for feet. Deep shame settled over me. When I got home, I mustered the courage to ask for something else. A black puffer coat. I thought… black is normal, right? That should be okay. But my mother’s face went black instead. This led to my second savage beating. “Are you in love? Is that it? You want new clothes to show off? Who are you trying to impress? A boy? Tell me which boy! I’ll go to the school tomorrow and talk to the principal. “Are you cold? Do you not have clothes? Did I let you walk outside naked? Am I abusing you?” Finally, she pointed at the wall. Her body was shaking. “Why don’t you ask your sister? Ask her if it’s cold six feet under. Ask her if she wants a new coat.” I looked up. My eyes locked with Maya’s in the photo. Hot tears spilled from my eyes, one after another. Why… why did it have to be me that lived? I was fourteen years old. High adolescence. From that point on, I completely gave up on trying to be my own person. I still studied desperately, but high school was brutal. I couldn’t keep myself at the top of the rankings. Sometimes, I even dropped out of the top thirty in the grade. Every single time, my mother would beat me with a hatred that only stopped when she was physically exhausted. I just took it silently. Inside, I was hoping… Yes. Just like this. Hit harder. Kill me. Kill me. Please, just kill me. 07 When it came time to apply for college, my mother sat down and filled out the applications for the local state university herself. She smiled and said, “You don’t need to go out of state. The teacher’s college program here is the best. People fight to get into this program.” I just muttered, “Okay.” The day the acceptance letter arrived, the neighbors all came over to congratulate her. They praised me for being such a devoted daughter, knowing to stay close to take care of her. Only my high school guidance counselor was disappointed. “With your test scores, applying to a local teacher’s college is a tragic waste.” But then, thinking of my home situation, he just let out a deep, defeated sigh. “You’ve had it tough. But your mother has had a hard life, too.” I knew that’s how it would be. If the outcome was preordained, why struggle through the process? Struggle only leaves you with more heartache. After graduation, I smoothly secured a stable job as a teacher at a local middle school. Mrs. Albright next door, whose hair was now entirely gray, said to my mom, “Mei, you finally made it through. You made it.” My mom cried and laughed at the same time. I floated past the crowd of neighbors and looked at my mother. I looked at her exactly the way I had when they pulled me out from under that concrete slab. Mom, back then… were you happy that one daughter lived? Or were you only sad that the other one died? Mom, are you happy now? Mom, am I a good girl yet? 08 Everyone said my mother had a bitter life. Losing her husband, losing a daughter, raising a child alone. And just when things were finally supposed to get easier, I got sick. Stomach cancer. Stage three. When I saw the diagnosis, I was remarkably calm. Hunger had been the defining theme of my growth, and the stomach is an emotional organ. I had felt the discomfort in my upper abdomen for years. But I was so used to enduring, I couldn’t tell the difference between pain and hunger anymore. I was very used to enduring. I had no intention of seeking treatment. I decided to leave all my savings to my mother for her retirement. I planned to keep it a secret, but my mom found the diagnosis report hidden under my mattress. She read the report over and over. Then she let out a piercing, desolate scream and started tearing at her own hair. I stepped forward to stop her, and she shoved me away with brutal force. She pointed at me, then pointed at the wall. Her eyes were wide with terror, her face twisted in an ugly mask. “If I knew you were just going to die early anyway, I should have let you die back then. “You debt collector. “You should have been the one to die.” My hands dropped loosely to my sides. After a long silence, I whispered back, “Okay.” That night, I left the apartment. I stood in the cold wind and jumped into the city river. I left no note. I had no regrets. I was a good, obedient girl. Wasn’t I? My photograph was finally hung on the wall. I was placed to the left of my father. Maya was to his right. Only my mother was left alive. Old Mrs. Albright stood clutching the doorway, her heart breaking. “Mei… your life… why does it have to be so hard?” Did my mother truly have a hard life? Right now, as I watch her smiling in this hospital ambulance, looking at Maya, I have to wonder.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “409213”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel