Author: Momo Chan

My mother was gravely ill, desperately needing a million dollars, and I was frantically scrambling for money. In my despair, my childhood friend appeared with a million-dollar check, offering help on one condition: he wanted to marry me. Everyone expected me to say yes, but I calmly refused. Because even in my past life, when I married him, my mother still died from a failed surgery. Afterward, I overheard his conversation with a doctor. “Dominic, did you deliberately botch the surgery just to transplant Evelyn’s mother’s kidney to Leona?” “Is it worth it? If Evelyn finds out, you’re finished.” “I just want Leona to live. Besides, marrying a woman like Evelyn, my life would already be over.” Only then did I realize that our marriage was a carefully crafted lie he wove for the woman he loved. 1. “Evelyn, don’t worry. As long as I’m here, your mother will get better soon. I’ll take care of both of you.” I looked up, meeting his eyes that seemed brimming with concern. It was that very gaze that had deceived me for five whole years in my past life, costing even my mother’s life. The surrounding patients and their families started chanting, “Say yes! Say yes!” Dominic and I had grown up together, sharing an unspoken, simmering attraction for a decade. If he hadn’t suddenly become infatuated with Leona, a university student he was sponsoring, we might have married long ago. His proposal then had deeply moved me. I believed he truly cared for me. Only after our marriage did I discover it was merely a marriage of convenience. He had kept himself pure for Leona all along. I tried my best to please him, desperately wanting to maintain the marriage. But I never expected that this marriage, from the very beginning, was a sham. He had deliberately caused my mother’s death to get her kidney for Leona. And I, under the immense blow, got into a car accident and died. Heaven must have had mercy, returning me to the starting point of it all. This time, I only wanted to save my mother’s life and stay far away from their “true love.” I reached out my hand. Dominic thought I was going to take the check, and a triumphant smile touched his lips. The next second, I pushed the check back. “No, thank you. Marriage shouldn’t be so hasty. People who don’t love each other won’t be happy together.” His smile froze. “Evelyn, what are you talking about?” “I’m serious. Don’t you know how I’ve felt about you all these years?” “It’s not necessary. Keep your money. I’ll find a way myself.” Dominic sighed, shaking his head, looking utterly distraught. “Evelyn, why are you being so stubborn? There’s really nothing between Leona and me.” I lowered my gaze, masking the mockery in my eyes. If there truly was “nothing,” why would he be willing to kill and steal a kidney for her, even marry a woman he didn’t love? I asked coolly, “Then can you stop seeing her from now on?” He hesitated for a moment. Just as he was about to speak, a nurse rushed in, flustered. “Dr. Vance, the VIP patient is demanding to see you!” Dominic instinctively shifted his weight, though his face remained outwardly calm. “A patient needs me. I’ll be right back. Think carefully, your mother’s illness can’t wait.” Without waiting for my response, he rushed out. He always prided himself on his image, so his current state of panic could only be for Leona. In my past life, my mind was consumed by my mother’s condition, and I hadn’t even noticed Leona was also hospitalized here. I quietly followed him, arriving at the door of a VIP room. Through the slightly ajar door, I could see Leona lying in bed, her face pale. “Dominic, please don’t worry about me anymore. I’m dying of kidney failure. Just let me die!” Dominic held her carefully, comforting her softly. “Leona, don’t rush. I’ve already found a kidney donor.” “Just wait two more days. For you, I’m willing to marry a woman I don’t love and spend the rest of my life with her.” Leona reached out, stroking his face, her eyes welling up. “No, don’t sacrifice so much for me. I want you to be happy. It’s okay if I die.” Dominic lowered his head, his gaze becoming resolute and desperate. “No, I won’t let you die.” “Just tell me, do you have any feelings for me at all?” Leona’s eyes were red, her words hesitant. “Don’t say such things. Evelyn will be upset…” “I just want your answer. I don’t care about anyone else!” Leona finally stopped struggling, leaning in to kiss him. The two passionately embraced in the hospital room, lost in each other. I raised my phone, capturing this touching scene. In the past, seeing this would have pierced my heart. But now, I felt only numbness and disgust. I turned and left, calling my grandfather. “I’m willing to rejoin the family, but on one condition: immediately arrange the best heart surgery for my mother.” “The lead surgeon and medical team must be top-tier.” My grandfather, on the other end of the line, was ecstatic, agreeing repeatedly. “No problem, I’ll arrange it right away. I’m glad you’ve come to your senses!” In my past life, if Dominic hadn’t proposed to me, I would have contacted my grandfather. I was the illegitimate daughter of the Thompson family in Crestwood City, cast out long ago. Last year, after my father and his legal wife both died in an accident, the Thompson family finally contacted me, begging me to return and inherit the family business. I had always refused, simply because I was the product of my mother’s rape. She had suffered so much to raise me, and I didn’t want to acknowledge that rapist father. But now, for my mother’s life, I had no choice but to compromise. In my past life, Dominic, as my mother’s surgeon, had the means to ensure her death during surgery. Now, with a different hospital and different doctors, it should be foolproof. 2. Perhaps it was the promise he made to Leona, but Dominic became even more attentive. He appeared in the hospital room first thing in the morning. “Evelyn, I bought your favorite crab roe buns. Have some.” I didn’t even look up, continuing to pack my mother’s belongings, my voice cool. “No, thank you. I’ve already eaten.” His eyebrows furrowed slightly. “What’s wrong with you? You’ve been very cold towards me these past two days.” Before, anything he bought, even a bottle of mineral water, would make me ecstatic. My coldness clearly made him uncomfortable. “Nothing. We’re just friends. There’s no need to be so intimate.” The words struck him as particularly harsh. Even though he, too, had always privately defined me as just a friend, he didn’t want to hear me say it out loud. His tone became somewhat displeased. “Don’t be ridiculous.” “I know you’re worried your mother will resent me, but everyone knows you like me.” I looked up, giving him a half-smile. “Didn’t you say that? You said we were just friends.” He had, in the past, repeatedly distanced himself from me, claiming we were nothing more than friends, all to avoid Leona’s misunderstanding. His face turned somewhat unpleasant, and he seemed to recall it. Suddenly, he noticed the empty bed and grabbed my arm, asking anxiously, “Where’s your mother? Why isn’t she in bed?” His grip hurt me, and I couldn’t help but wince. “I transferred my mother to another hospital.” “What?!” “Why did you transfer her? I’m her attending physician. Why wasn’t I notified?” “Evelyn, where did you transfer her?” I stared straight at him, a mocking curve to my lips. “Why are you so anxious?” He was momentarily stunned by my question, then stammered, “I… I’m naturally concerned about your mother’s condition.” “After all, she watched me grow up. I’ve always thought of her as a mother.” “And I’m currently the best cardiac surgeon in Silverwood. How could you transfer her without my consent?” The more he spoke, the more confident he became, his last two sentences even laced with an accusing tone. When he was a child, his parents were often away on business, leaving him to be abused by his nanny. He was so hungry he would come to our breakfast diner to pick up customers’ leftovers. He was so thin and small, looking only five despite being eight years old. My mother had a soft heart and felt sorry for him. She called his parents to discuss the nanny issue. She brought him to live with us, sharing our meals and home. It’s fair to say that without my mother, he might not have grown up properly. But even with such kindness, he showed no mercy when he acted against my mother. He released his grip on my arm, his eyes complex. “Evelyn, have you… been reborn too?” I admitted it openly. “Yes. So stop pretending, Dominic Vance.” He actually breathed a sigh of relief when I admitted to being reborn. “Evelyn, you know, the surgery last time was an accident.” “This time I’ll come up with an even more perfect surgical plan.” “Besides, who else in Silverwood has my skill?” He said, taking my hand, his gaze gentle. “We’ve been together for so long. Haven’t I been good to you?” “Why don’t you trust me?” He had always played the role of a devoted husband. Yet, after marriage, he would refuse my touch, citing “intimacy anxiety.” Secretly, he would give me antidepressants laced with sleeping pills, then bring Leona home for passionate encounters. The moments I vaguely stumbled upon, he would casually dismiss as my hallucinations. I even felt guilty for it, blaming my own mental state. “Dominic, did you ever love me?” I stared directly into his eyes, trying to find even a flicker of genuine emotion. He answered without hesitation, “Of course.” He truly was an excellent actor; it was a shame he became a doctor. “Then what about the ‘meat’ that was in the fridge that you never ate?” The composure on his face finally cracked, and his hand unconsciously gripped the hem of his clothes. I had found that item while cleaning the fridge, tucked away in a delicate little box. The box opened, and inside the lid, it read: To my dearest darling. I wanted to throw it out immediately, but Dominic slapped me, screaming hysterically. “Don’t touch my things!” That was the first time he had ever yelled at me, and the first time I had seen such a distorted look on his face. Later, I secretly asked a doctor friend, and they told me it was placental tissue. Whose it was, was self-evident. I never imagined he would be so reckless, keeping their deceased child’s remains at home. “It was merely a work of art that I, as a doctor, appreciated.” He paused, then adopted a gentle tone again. “Shall we have our wedding in a few days? I know you’ve always wanted to marry me.” “You should transfer your mother back to this hospital.” “Don’t gamble with your mother’s health out of spite. You don’t have enough money to treat her.” He seemed to think that he could simply declare this, and I would obediently comply. I was about to refuse when a weak voice cut in. “Dominic, are you two getting married?” Leona. She stood at the hospital room door, her figure frail, her eyes filled with shattered light. Her fragility made Dominic ache with sympathy. He immediately rushed to her side. “Leona, why are you here? You need to rest.” Leona’s tears fell fast and hard. “It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have come. I just wanted to congratulate you both.” She spoke in broken sentences, her voice filled with grievance and unwillingness. Dominic became even more anxious. “You clearly know that…” He was mindful of me, and in the end, didn’t utter the last few words. I didn’t want to watch this disgusting charade anymore. I grabbed my packed belongings and turned to leave. Dominic grabbed my arm, his voice urgent. “Let’s get our marriage certificate tomorrow.” “I’m not going.” I shook off his hand. “Be a good girl. I’ll pick you up from your house tomorrow.” His tone carried an undeniable authority. I wanted to say more, but Leona “conveniently” fainted. Dominic gasped, holding her and shouting for a nurse. The hospital room instantly descended into chaos. In the midst of the confusion, he didn’t even glance at me again. Only Leona, in his arms, gave me a mocking smile. 3. My grandfather had my mother transferred to Sterling City overnight, and her surgery was scheduled for the day after tomorrow. When I video-called my mother, her complexion had improved, and I, too, felt a sense of relief. I slept soundly that night. In my past life, after my mother’s surgery failed and she passed away. I suffered from sleepless nights, plagued by depression, only able to sleep with medication. When I woke, Dominic’s face was inches from mine, startling me so much I almost leaped out of bed. “How did you get in?” He rolled his eyes, looking at me as if I were an idiot. Only then did I remember he had a key to my house. “Get up, it’s time to go register our marriage. Afterwards, we can go see your mother.” “I wonder how she’s doing.” Dominic urged, seemingly genuinely concerned about my mother. I frowned in disgust, unwilling to continue this charade with him. “In my past life, you deliberately sabotaged my mother’s surgery to transplant her kidney to Leona, didn’t you?” Dominic’s face stiffened, then he adopted a wounded expression. “How could you think that of me? I love you so much, why would I harm your mother?” “Stop pretending. I heard everything you said to your assistant doctor.” “You really went to great lengths for Leona.” His face changed several times, finally giving up the pretense. “Your mother wouldn’t have lived much longer even if the surgery was successful. Wouldn’t it be better to give her kidney to Leona?” “Wouldn’t it be good for Leona to continue living with her kidney?” I was seething, gritting my teeth. “You’re shameless! Despicable! Have you forgotten how good my mother was to you?” Dominic glared back, unyielding. “Didn’t I sacrifice my entire future for you?” “Without me, would you be enjoying a life of luxury?” “With your miserable job, you’d never live in a mansion in this lifetime!” My eyes red, I yelled, “I don’t need it!” “I just want my mother alive! You murderer!” I tried to push him out, but then I saw Leona sitting composedly on the living room sofa. My anger flared even more. I pointed at the door. “Both of you, get out!” Leona set down her teacup, her face full of grievance. “Evelyn, please don’t argue with Dominic because of me. I know I’m not good enough for him…” Dominic stepped in front of Leona, pointing at me and scolding, “Anything you have to say, say it to me! Leona is innocent! Stop bullying her!” Leona hid behind him, defiantly raising an eyebrow at me, her eyes filled with triumph. “I won’t marry you. Now, please get out of my house.” Leona approached, looking innocent. “Evelyn, please don’t be like this. I only came today to witness Dominic’s happiness.” “I heeded your warning and stopped having unrealistic thoughts about Dominic.” She was slandering me again, and this wasn’t the first or second time. But Dominic believed her every time. Sure enough, Dominic became furious and pushed me back. “Evelyn, are you done or not! How dare you secretly warn Leona!” His strength was surprisingly great. I was caught off guard, and my head hit the nail of the calendar hanging on the wall with a sickening thud. A wave of sharp pain washed over me. I reached up and felt my hand covered in blood. Dominic gasped, running over frantically. “This… I didn’t mean to.” I tried to call for an ambulance, but my body slumped, and I groaned weakly. “Hurry… save me…” Dominic was, after all, a surgeon, and he knew the gravity of the situation. He knelt down in a panic, trying to check my injury. Just then, Leona’s voice rang out again. “This looks like a major hemorrhage, doesn’t it? Evelyn seems to be the same blood type as me.” “Her kidney also looks like a good match. If we go to the hospital, maybe I could even get her blood.” Dominic’s hand, reaching out to help me, paused. His eyes flickered, as if he was contemplating something. I stared at him in horror, a chill creeping from my feet to the top of my head. “Evelyn, since you won’t let me touch your mother’s kidney, then yours can go to Leona.” “I already let you enjoy the good life in the past. Now, this will be… repayment to me.”

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I possess a “Rumors Come True” system, where any lie uttered about me manifests upon the slanderer. In high school, a classmate, envious of my generous allowance, claimed I was being kept by someone, selling myself. That very day, she was taken to a sleazy karaoke bar and forced into being a hostess. In college, a male student remarked that my queasy stomach and picky eating must be morning sickness. Immediately, his belly swelled; for ten months, he swelled, only to vomit nothing but sour bile. From then on, no one dared to gossip about me. That is, until my engagement party with my fiancé, James. His childhood friend, Maya, eagerly stepped forward to offer a toast. “Eleanor, darling, even though the hospital records show you’ve had seven miscarriages, I’m sure you and James will have a baby soon!” “And if not, you can always bring home that child you had when you were eighteen. James and I will help you raise it.” … After her little speech, Maya blinked her innocent eyes. “Oh dear, did I say something wrong? I suppose everyone didn’t know about Eleanor’s past, did they?” She regretfully covered James’s ear. “Just pretend I said nothing. Eleanor clearly didn’t tell you these private things because she didn’t want you to know.” She seemed to be trying to cover for me, but her misleading words only fueled the guests’ misunderstandings. Meeting the mocking gazes of our friends, James’s face darkened. He frowned deeply. “Eleanor, did you really get pregnant and have someone else’s child before we were married, and had seven miscarriages?” Hearing his sharp accusation, Maya feigned remorse and looked at me. “I’m so sorry, Eleanor. I thought since you two were about to be married, there wouldn’t be any secrets between you.” “But I don’t regret it. I couldn’t stand by and let James be kept in the dark.” Meeting her resolute stare, I scoffed, narrowing my eyes as I approached her. “I advise you to clear up these rumors immediately!” “Otherwise, it might be difficult to contain later!” Maya timidly hid behind James, her voice trembling with feigned vulnerability. “How could this be a rumor?” “I just wanted to find out what kind of woman James was marrying, and I never expected to uncover such unspeakable details about your past…” At her words, everyone watched like a crowd at a show, waiting for Maya’s next revelation. James’s brow was lined with an even deeper frown. Maya bit her lower lip, looking as if she found it difficult to speak. “These are all Eleanor’s private matters. Can I really say…?” James comforted her gently. “Maya, just say what you know. If she dared to do it, there’s no need to spare her feelings.” Listening to his defense, Maya’s eyes grew steadily firmer. “James is right. Everyone has the right to know the truth!” She blurted out, “The year she turned eighteen, in her freshman year of college, Eleanor was sleeping with several men. And that was the year she gave birth to a child.” The surrounding guests gasped in collective shock. Maya continued to spill the beans. “But she hooked up with so many men, she doesn’t even know who the child’s father is!” “That child has been raised in the countryside ever since. If you do the math, they must be eight years old by now.” The banquet hall immediately erupted in whispers. Scrutinizing glances continuously swept over me. “I can’t believe it! She looks so innocent, but she’s been playing around so much behind our backs!” “From the sound of her insatiable urges, she’s probably cheated on James countless times. Tsk!” I ignored the filthy whispers, calmly meeting Maya’s gaze, a smile playing on my lips. “Sometimes, the rumors you spread come back to bite you in unexpected ways.” “I’m asking you one last time, are you sure everything you’re saying happened to me?” A flicker of panic crossed her eyes, quickly masked, as she feigned composure. “Of course it’s about you! Whose else could it be?!” She adopted a righteous air. “I just want James to know your true character, so he doesn’t regret marrying you for the rest of his life!” But no sooner had she spoken than a small child rushed up to Maya’s leg, crying, “Mommy!” The entire banquet hall was stunned. Maya frantically tried to push her away. “Who’s your mommy? Don’t call me that!” The girl, however, clung to her, sobbing, “Mommy, I haven’t seen you in so long. Why are you trying to send me away again?” Maya’s composure shattered under the guests’ teasing gazes. She gasped in alarm, trying to cover the child’s mouth. I watched her panic, a faint smile on my lips. I told her, didn’t I, that spreading rumors would come back to haunt her? James looked at Maya, a complicated expression on his face. He asked bitterly, “Is she really your child?” Maya instinctively waved her hand in denial. I interjected, “Why don’t we just ask?” I walked toward the girl, but Maya suddenly blocked her. “Why should you ask?” I raised an eyebrow at her. “If you’re innocent, what’s there to be afraid of?” Maya looked at James, tears welling in her eyes. “James, you believe me!” Seeing her tears, James immediately stepped in front of her, frowning with displeasure. “Eleanor, Maya and I grew up together. I know her character better than anyone!” “How could she possibly have a child this old? Don’t spread false rumors!” He hadn’t trusted me, but now that Maya was being questioned, he fiercely protected her. My chest tightened for a moment, then I exhaled lightly. “Someone calling Maya ‘Mommy’ at a banquet will surely tarnish her reputation! If you truly care about her, you should inquire further!” James looked at the suspicious glances around them, clenching his fists. Finally, he pulled Maya aside. “Eleanor is right. For your reputation, we really should get to the bottom of this!” Maya glared at me with resentment. I knelt down and asked the girl, “Little one, how old are you?” “Eight.” “What’s your name?” “Lily Taylor.” I concluded, “She has normal conversational abilities.” Then I pointed at Maya. “Is she your mother?” Maya’s eyes shot daggers, and she glared at Lily. The girl flinched in fear, but still nodded gently. “She is my mommy.” Hearing her confession, the color drained from Maya’s face. “And your father?” The girl looked a bit sad, lowering her head. “I’ve never met my daddy.” Maya saw the shock on James’s face and glared at me with hatred. Suddenly, she shrieked, “It must be you! Eleanor!” “Is she an actress you hired to ruin my reputation?” “Otherwise, how could this child’s story perfectly align with what I said?” Then, Maya tugged at James’s sleeve, tears welling in her eyes. “James, believe me! I really didn’t do any of those things.” “I’m to blame for saying those things that upset Eleanor. She must have deliberately hired an actress to frame me.” James’s friends also came over to speak on Maya’s behalf. “James, you know what kind of person Maya is. Besides, her name is Taylor. What connection could she possibly have with Maya?” “But the child that Eleanor was supposedly found to have is also eight years old. Kids can be easily manipulated; how many truths can come out of their mouths?” I sneered, looking at the speaker. “So, Maya spreading false rumors was also part of my scheme?” James, listening to the argument, roared to interrupt. “Enough, Eleanor!” “Maya isn’t married yet; don’t slander her!” “This girl was probably sent by someone to deliberately frame her. I’ll have someone take her back to her parents soon.” Maya, hearing James say he believed her, began to sob again. Tears streamed from her eyes, and she sniffled. “Eleanor, I never imagined you’d go to such lengths, even hiring an actress to spread rumors about me, just to divert attention.” “Originally, there was some evidence I didn’t want to release, but since you’ve resorted to such underhanded tactics, don’t blame me for exposing it…” She opened her phone’s photo album, and an indecent, lewd sound filled the air. Projected onto the banquet hall’s large screen, everyone clearly saw a person wearing provocative lingerie, twisting their body, with my face prominently displayed. Maya pointed at the video and declared, “During that time, not only were you promiscuous, but you also loved filming these little videos. These are all the evidence your ex-boyfriends sent me!” “What do you have to say for yourself now?” “You want to have a good time before marrying James, but how do you think James’s family will feel about this?” Seeing the intertwined bodies on the large screen, whispers erupted among the guests. “I heard the Sterling and Taylor families arranged this marriage years ago. Eleanor knew about the engagement and still dared to mess around!” “She’s practically slapping the Sterling family in the face!” Maya seemed to fear it wasn’t enough; she played several more videos. Various types of sexy lingerie, and a different male lead in each video. James’s face grew grim. His voice was low and heavy. “Eleanor! I’ve kept my distance from other women since I learned about our engagement!” “But you… how dare you betray me?!” Maya fanned the flames beside him. “Eleanor could have a child out of wedlock at eighteen; it’s hard to say if she filmed these for thrills.” I looked at the furious man before me and suddenly felt utterly fed up. I was his fiancée of three years. Yet, he didn’t bother to question the truth, refusing to hear a single explanation. He had already decided I was a depraved woman. I simply explained, “I didn’t do any of these things. AI face-swapping technology is so advanced these days; it’s hard to say if someone deliberately replaced the person in the videos with my face.” Then, I stared unblinking at Maya. “This behavior has already violated my right to reputation. I have every reason to sue you!” Hearing my almost threatening words, Maya remained unfazed. “I already told you, I bought these from your ex-boyfriends.” She even mocked me. “You found a good man like James and still don’t appreciate him!” “You probably don’t know how many women dream of marrying him!” Her words were tinged with admiration for the man beside her. James clearly enjoyed her words, and his disgust for me intensified. “Eleanor, I cannot marry a woman as impure as you!” “I will inform my parents that I’m breaking off the engagement.” I gave a dismissive smirk. Whatever. It was the Sterling family who had begged for this alliance three years ago anyway. If I broke off this engagement, another Chen or Wang family would naturally come along. Before James left with Maya, I patiently offered one last warning. “Maya, I advise you to apologize for your inappropriate remarks.” “After all, spreading false rumors really does come back to haunt you!” She had just heard what she wanted to hear. She chuckled, her face filled with only defiance. “Eleanor, I think I should be saying that to you.” “I advise you to live a pure life from now on. Otherwise, the next rich man you try to hook, once he checks your background, will know you’re not clean~” Watching her walk away, I nonchalantly raised an eyebrow. Since good advice fell on deaf ears, then let her wait. Retribution might be delayed, but it would never be absent.

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My husband’s mistress, Scarlett, was throwing another fit and threatening to leave him. He drowned his sorrows, drinking until he got a perforated stomach and ended up in the hospital. Half-dead, he mumbled, “Only she dares to treat me like this.” Then he grabbed my hand and asked, “Eleanor, you’re a woman too. Tell me, how can I win her back this time?” Indeed, of all his countless affairs, Scarlett was the only one who truly held his heart. My phone vibrated. A message from Scarlett. “Mrs. Hayes! Please control your husband!” “As a woman, do you have no dignity?! Tell him to stop bothering me!” I scoffed, a cynical smile playing on my lips, and, as usual, offered no reply. On the fifth day of Alistair Hayes’s hospitalization, my phone rang off the hook. He was furious. “I’m in the hospital, and you haven’t visited me yet!” “Do you even consider me your husband anymore?!” I calmly replied, “I’m afraid if I go, you might fall in love with me again!” … A scoff came from the other end, as if surprised by my sudden wit. I hung up. My phone chimed with a notification: the three-year mourning period was over. According to the original agreement between the Sterling and Hayes families, I was now free to divorce. Just as I finished instructing my lawyer to begin the divorce process, I saw Scarlett flaunting her love on social media. She’d posted a picture of Alistair in his hospital gown, hooked up to an IV, half-crouching to massage her calf. She sat on the hospital bed, beaming happily. The caption read: “Truly experiencing the phrase ‘even the wealthy can be hopelessly devoted.’ He, a man of such high standing, is just a simp I can’t shake off, no matter how hard I try.” I felt nothing, not even a second glance. My lawyer was surprised by my composure. “It’s truly rare and remarkable to have such a calm client as you, Mrs. Hayes.” I offered a faint smile. She didn’t know that I had once screamed, fought, fallen into depression, and even attempted suicide over Alistair’s infidelity. It was only after my heart died, and then resurrected, that I became the woman I was today. Alistair returned home a month later, in the early hours of the morning. Seeing me asleep, he moved lightly, like a tiptoeing thief. But he didn’t know that I was a light sleeper; the slightest sound would wake me. Having another person beside me felt unsettling. I couldn’t remember how long it had been since Alistair had last slept in my bed. The next morning, I woke to find a necklace, valued at thirty million dollars, on my bedside table. I was used to it. Sure enough, I received another triumphant, provocative message from Scarlett: “Mrs. Hayes! Because of me, you’ve received another thirty-million-dollar necklace. Shouldn’t you thank me?” Every time Alistair tried to appease Scarlett, he would buy all sorts of luxurious items. But Scarlett never accepted a single one. In Alistair’s mind, Scarlett was the purest woman, disdainful of money. She had been with Alistair for three years and hadn’t spent a single penny of his. They split all expenses, and Alistair, who had been born into luxury, willingly lived a commoner’s life with her. Thus, in Alistair’s heart, Scarlett’s love for him was the purest, untainted by any ulterior motive. Only I knew Scarlett was playing a long game, baiting a big fish. Usually, I treated her like air, never replying to any of her messages. But today, I typed back: “Thank you.” A rational woman doesn’t let money pass her by. The reply from her side was instantaneous, as if the sun had risen in the west, and came back in a flash. “Oh, you’re breathing today, are you? You know how to reply now.” Her mouth was as if dipped in poison. Alistair woke up and glanced at my chat history with Scarlett. A smile played on his lips, his voice filled with an undisguised affection for Scarlett. “Scarlett’s little mouth is really… quite amusing!” As he spoke, Alistair naturally reached out and stroked my head. “My Eleanor is more composed now, truly like a big sister.” His words felt like praising a dog. A surge of disgust welled up inside me. Before, I had caused a city-wide scandal over his infidelity. I’d flipped tables in public, and the number of times I’d smashed bottles over his head, sending him to the hospital, was fifteen. Media exposés and other behaviors had cost him countless amounts of face. But he never reined himself in. Each time, he would only tell me: “Go out and look around. Which man in this circle doesn’t have a few women?” “I’m having my fun, but I’m not abandoning you!” He had also said many times: “No matter how many women I have, you are still the head, the older sister to all of them.” It wasn’t until the day my father passed away that I truly woke up. For three years, I had been “blind” and “deaf”! It only earned me his patronizing compliment: “My Eleanor finally acts like a big sister.” For these three years, I had not interfered with him. My presence to him was as if I were air. Even after our son turned two, he still didn’t know I had given birth to a boy for him. The day I nearly died in childbirth, he was with Scarlett, selling street food from a stall. He said he was utterly smitten by Scarlett’s non-materialistic, self-reliant character! I simply offered a faint, cold smile, saying nothing. In my heart, he had long been dead. On my mother-in-law’s birthday banquet, I went through the motions, playing the dutiful daughter-in-law. But as I walked in with my gifts, I saw Alistair and Scarlett standing on either side of my mother-in-law. My mother-in-law was beaming, chatting with acquaintances. “Mrs. Hayes, your hairstyle today is truly beautiful. Paired with that dress, you look simply elegant and unrivaled.” My mother-in-law’s hairstyle was indeed more beautiful than before, elegantly swept up with a retro hair ornament. She smiled gently, patting Scarlett’s hand with approval. “My daughter-in-law styled it for me. She’s very skilled.” So, my mother-in-law had also accepted Scarlett. Scarlett smiled gracefully in response. “Mom, as long as you like it.” Alistair said, “Mom, she loves you the most. She’s told me so many times.” “You being our daughter-in-law is a blessing to our Hayes family.” A cold laugh bubbled up inside me. I refused to stay another second. As I was about to turn and leave, Scarlett’s voice came from behind me. “Eleanor.” Her tone was light, deliberately making others mistakenly believe we had a good relationship. I paused, turned calmly, and offered a slight smile. A flicker of surprise crossed her eyes; she must have expected me to either storm out in a rage, make a scene, or disregard my mother-in-law entirely. Never this calm, this composed. “Sister, you look truly beautiful today.” She feigned composure and warmth. “Thank you.” I smiled faintly, accepting the compliment. I had long since dismissed her from my thoughts. Her deliberate acts of hostility were utterly superfluous to me. My mother-in-law naturally said to me, “You two sisters should accompany me in receiving the guests.” A memory suddenly flooded my mind of what my mother-in-law had told me before: “You are my true daughter from now on. I will love you like my own.” “If Alistair dares to cheat, I’ll be the first to break his legs for you.” Those words were as clear as yesterday. Yet, she was the one causing me immense humiliation now. She gently patted my hand, whispering, “Eleanor, Scarlett is a good girl. She’s different from those other women.” I smiled faintly, saying against my true feelings, “You’re right, Mom.” Anyway, I was leaving. Nothing here mattered to me anymore. My mother-in-law smiled with relief. “It’s so good that you’ve come to your senses.” She looked up at Alistair and said, “I told you, Eleanor is a reasonable person.” Alistair looked at me with a relieved gaze, proudly stating, “I trained her myself.” As if I were a cat or a dog. In the past, I would have smashed every table at this birthday banquet. Now, I wouldn’t waste a single emotion or ounce of energy on people who weren’t worth it. ** Scarlett and I stood on either side, accompanying my mother-in-law. Everyone looked at me strangely. Some were even whispering. “Why has Eleanor suddenly changed? This isn’t like her at all.” “In the past, she would have flipped tables by now. Why is she so quiet today?” To everyone’s astonishment, my mother-in-law, beaming, announced, “I have some good news to share with everyone.” “My daughter-in-law, Scarlett, is three months pregnant.” “The family doctor checked, and it’s a boy.” “For our Hayes family, this is a double blessing.” Everyone present offered flattering words and pleasantries. In this circle of wealthy families, this was indeed a common occurrence. But to so openly slap my face as the legitimate wife—only the Hayes family would dare. Scarlett smiled shyly, and Alistair embraced her, his face filled with happiness. I felt like a clown, an added amusement to the birthday banquet. Finally, I spoke. “I had intended to wait until after Mom’s birthday to discuss the divorce.” “Since Scarlett is pregnant, we can’t have her child be born illegitimate, can we?” “So, discussing the divorce on this occasion is quite fitting.” I glanced at my lawyer, who was not far away. She understood immediately and handed the divorce papers to Alistair. Alistair frowned, stunned, his eyes scrutinizing me! “Are you causing trouble again?” I offered a faint, calm smile. “I am very serious. Do you truly love Scarlett by making her a mistress for life?” He was shocked by the unwavering calmness in my eyes. For a moment, his dark eyes were filled with disbelief. The woman he once believed would never leave him, even in death, was now calmly and resolutely proposing a divorce. My words choked him. He loved Scarlett so much; how could he say anything that would hurt her? The entire hall fell silent, waiting for Alistair’s reaction. Scarlett stared fixedly at him. Alistair hesitated for only two seconds, and she couldn’t contain herself, feigning a wronged and compromising tone. “Alistair, you don’t have to make it difficult.” “I know we’re not a match.” “I’ll have this baby aborted. I can be your mistress.” “But truthfully, I don’t want my child to be called a bastard, an illegitimate child.” “So I’ll have this baby aborted.” Alistair panicked, quickly trying to soothe her. “You mustn’t! This is the crystallization of our love, and my first child.” “Who says he’s illegitimate? I will give him a legitimate identity.” I deliberately said with satisfaction, “Now that’s a man! Sign it!” Under the combined pressure from Scarlett and me, Alistair picked up the pen. Without even looking, he signed the divorce papers. He leaned close to me, speaking in a voice only we two could hear. “Once Scarlett has the baby, I’ll remarry you.” “Just bear with it a little longer. I won’t abandon you.” I remained calm, a sigh of relief washing over me. Alistair, I won’t take you back. Never again. Scarlett flashed me a triumphant smile. I, too, smiled with relief. Back at my and Alistair’s residence, the lawyer had already arranged for a moving company to take my valuable personal belongings. Our two-year-old son was still asleep, and I didn’t have the heart to wake him. The lawyer accidentally injured herself when a cabinet fell, so I rushed her to the hospital. Estimating when my son would wake up, I hurried back to pick him up. Before I even reached the residence, I saw thick black smoke, like clouds, billowing from the house. My heart clenched, and I slammed the accelerator to the floor. The closer I got, the stronger the sense of dread grew. My hands trembled on the steering wheel, and I silently prayed that it wasn’t my and Alistair’s house on fire. But when I got out of the car and saw the villa engulfed in flames, my world instantly collapsed. Scarlett was nestled in Alistair’s arms, weeping delicately. “Alistair, I’m so sorry. I never thought setting off fireworks to celebrate would set the house on fire.” “What are we going to do? Waaah…” She looked like a startled rabbit, her eyes wide with terror. Alistair showed no concern for the burning house, smiling as he comforted her. “It’s okay, don’t cry. It’s just a house; it’s nothing major.” “I have plenty of houses. This little loss means nothing to me.” “Don’t cry, you silly girl.” My legs weak, I stumbled forward, screaming desperately, “My son is inside! Put out the fire!” “Put out the fire! Put out the fire!” I lunged madly towards the house. Alistair quickly grabbed me from behind. “Eleanor! Calm down!” “We don’t have a child! Where would a child come from?!” “If you’re worried about the house, I can buy you another one!” Scarlett said sarcastically, “Eleanor, what’s this new trick of yours?” “What child? You’re not hallucinating, are you?” I struggled madly out of Alistair’s grasp and slapped him hard. Trembling, I roared. “It’s our son! He’s two years old! He’s sleeping in there!” I had lost all reason, and was about to rush into the blazing house again. The entire house was engulfed in flames, crackling and popping, about to be completely incinerated. In the distance, the wail of fire truck sirens grew louder. Alistair grabbed me again, shouting angrily, “What are you doing?!” “Are you trying to manipulate me with this?!” “Eleanor, your life is your own!” “If you rush in there today, you’ll only die.” “And a son? When did you ever have a son? How come I don’t know?!” “I think you’ve lost your mind!” Scarlett chimed in, “I think so too. Eleanor, you can’t force feelings. Why are you doing this?” I lunged at Scarlett like a madwoman, grabbing her hair and dragging her towards the flames. “Scarlett, if anything happens to my son, you’ll die in this fire too!” She cried out in pain, struggling and screaming. Alistair rushed over and stood between Scarlett and me, angrily slapping me. “Eleanor, what’s wrong with you?!” He immediately ordered the bodyguards beside him, “Take her to the mental hospital for an examination!” Two burly bodyguards immediately moved to act against me. In utter despair, I was ready to abandon everything and rush into the fire to find my son. Suddenly, a familiar, shaken voice came from behind me. “Mommy, I’m here…”

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To give my wife a sense of security, once the company was on track, I stepped back and became a stay-at-home husband. For ten years since the company’s founding, she had never once let me attend the annual gala. When the tenth-anniversary gala was scheduled at a five-star hotel, I suggested I should go. She, busy lacing her shoes, didn’t even look up. “You’re my husband. If you come, the employees won’t feel relaxed.” Before leaving, she hurriedly planted a kiss on my cheek. “Be good. After this busy period, we’ll take Sunny to Hawaii.” The door clicked shut. I looked at the scattered Lego bricks and picture books on the floor, my chest aching. My three-year-old son suddenly ran up, holding a black phone. “Daddy! Mommy forgot her phone!” I froze for a moment. This wasn’t the phone she usually carried. “Honey, your gala suit is chosen, twenty-eight thousand. Waiting for your card, okay~.” 1. The sender’s name was saved as: “Sweetheart, Henry.” My breath hitched. Blood rushed to my ears, buzzing. My fingers instinctively slid across the screen. I don’t know if Eleanor was too confident, or simply trusted me too much. The phone had no password. I tapped on “Sweetheart, Henry”‘s chat window. The earliest message was from three years ago, August: “Ms. Castro, the proposal has been revised. I’ve sent it to your email.” That was when I was with her during the hardest times of her startup. She always said she had many engagements, came home late. Eleanor claimed it was a critical period for the company, so she had to sleep at the office. Last Valentine’s Day, Eleanor transferred $520 to me: “Hard work, hubby.” At the exact same moment— “Other people’s Valentines get flowers, I just want a transfer from Ms. Castro [playful emoji]” “Transfer: $10,000.00” “Love you! [heart emoji]” “Same place tonight?” That day, she came home at three in the morning, smelling of alcohol. She said, “For this family, no matter how tired I am, I have to keep going.” For my birthday, she gave me a watch worth two thousand dollars, saying: “Hard work, hubby. I’ll buy you a better one every year from now on.” At the exact same moment, she transferred $8888.88 to “Sweetheart, Henry.” He said, “Thanks, wifey! Much more generous than that old man of yours [smirking emoji]” She replied, “How can he compare to you?” “Old man.” Those two words stung my eyes. Sunny hummed a tune, clutching his toy car, sunlight illuminating the soft golden fuzz on his hair. My son, three years old. And my wife’s lover had been by her side for three years. I continued to scroll up. The last message from yesterday— “Wifey, can we finally come clean that day? [shy emoji]” My world completely crumbled at that moment. Come clean? What was she going to come clean about? Divorce? The lock turned. Eleanor pushed the door open, her gaze sweeping the living room. “I left my black phone at home. Did you see it?” “Sunny found it.” I walked over, pulling out the phone. “How could you forget something so important?” She snatched it, quickly pressed the screen dark, and tucked it into her suit’s inner pocket. The entire process took less than three seconds. “I’m swamped.” She cleared her throat. “Gala preparations, so much to do.” “Well, you’d better go.” She paused, then ruffled my cheek. “I have a dinner engagement tonight. Don’t wait for me.” The door closed. I leaned against the wall, slowly sliding to the floor. The spires of the Lego castle blurred and distorted in my vision. I knew that from today, some paths I would have to walk alone. And the first step was learning not to tremble. 2. A week later, I sat beside her with the household ledger. “Sunny’s extracurricular fees have gone up.” I opened the ledger. “The joint account balance isn’t much. Is the company’s cash flow alright?” “The company’s fine.” She glanced cursorily. “The gala budget was approved long ago. If money’s tight, just use a credit card. I’ll deposit more next month.” “The gala… it’s at the Grand Imperial Hotel?” “Mm, the Starry Sky Ballroom.” Her eyes flickered. “How did you know?” “I saw the advertisement passing by last time.” I lowered my eyes. “I heard it’s quite expensive.” “Ten years for the company, it needs to have the appropriate grandeur.” She hugged me. “After this busy period, I’ll take you and Sunny to Hawaii.” Another promise. “Oh,” I looked up, “can I see the gala schedule? I don’t even know what our company’s gala is like.” A minute later, the electronic version of the schedule and seating plan arrived. “Just look, don’t forward it.” “Got it.” She got up to shower. I opened my phone. Main Table 01: CEO Eleanor Castro Main Table 02: Head of Administration Henry Taylor Head of Administration. So, he was in the company, right under her nose. I took a screenshot, uploaded it to the cloud, and backed it up to an encrypted hard drive. Passing the study, the door was ajar. Her old laptop was on the desk, its indicator light on. I pushed the door open and went in. The computer had no password. The folders were a mess. I clicked on “Work Backup – 2021”. As I exited, my peripheral vision caught a strangely named folder: “L”. I double-clicked it. It required a password. I tried her birthday, my birthday, the company’s founding date—none worked. I typed in “Henry”‘s name. The folder opened. Inside were photos. Dozens, hundreds. Gatherings, business trips, celebrations, hotels. Spanning three years, the male lead had the same face. Young, handsome, with a flamboyant smile. Eleanor’s hand rested on his shoulder, embracing his waist. My fingernails dug into my palm, leaving crescent marks. No pain. I inserted a USB drive and copied the files. The progress bar moved slowly: 1%…5%…10%… The bathroom door opened. Footsteps approached the study. I pulled out the USB drive, closed the laptop, and turned, smiling. “Are you done showering? Your pajamas are on the bed.” She stood at the doorway, hair dripping wet, glancing at the computer. “Why are you in the study?” “Looking for Sunny’s vaccination record. The kindergarten needs it tomorrow.” I shook the small blue booklet. “Your old computer is still on. It’s wasting electricity.” “Forgot to turn it off.” She walked over and pressed the power button. “Don’t touch my computer again. It has commercial secrets.” “Got it, Mrs. Castro.” I smiled, patting her shoulder, and walked out of the study. The USB drive was tucked into the bottom-most secret compartment of the computer desk. Some other items were already stored there: transfer screenshots, recorded chat logs, unfamiliar phone numbers. Not enough yet. A few days later, I met with Laura Vance, a lawyer. A university roommate, now a renowned family law attorney. After I briefly outlined the situation, she was silent for a long time. “Buddy, are you sure you want to file a lawsuit?” “Yes.” I looked at the traffic outside the window. “I want her to pay.” “Alright then.” Laura took out her notebook. “To strike a snake, you must strike its vital point.” “What’s her vital point?” “The company.” Laura’s pen paused. “She’s the founder, but the company’s shares are marital property.” “If she’s found to be at significant fault, you’ll have a decisive advantage in asset division, and it could even affect control of the company.” She looked at me. “But this path is long and dirty. You need to be prepared.” “I am prepared.” “From the day I discovered ‘Sweetheart, Henry’, Leo Lane died.” Laura patted my shoulder. “I’ll help you.” Leaving the tea room, I went to a digital store on the west side of the city. The owner, Caleb Miller, was a university junior who once owed me a favor. “Bro, here’s what you asked for.” He handed me a black velvet box. Inside, a rose gold tie clip, studded with tiny diamonds. “4K high-definition, eight-hour battery life, wireless transmission to your phone.” Caleb lowered his voice. “And this—” A fountain pen. “Side-press recording, extremely discreet. On the day of the gala, I’ll be nearby to help with remote signal reception.” “Thanks.” I put the items away. “I’ll transfer the money.” “Bro,” Caleb’s eyes were complex, “be careful.” I smiled. “Don’t worry. I’m not the one who needs to be careful.” That night, Eleanor came home at two in the morning, reeking of alcohol. I helped her to bed, wiped her face, and took off her shoes. She groggily grabbed my hand. “Hubby… you’re still the best…” “Sleep.” I gently pulled my hand away, pulled the covers over her. As I turned, I heard her murmur, “Henry… don’t be silly…” I turned off the light, closed the door. In the darkness, I opened my phone. Henry Taylor’s social media updated. The photo showed him wearing a Rolex watch, holding a wine glass, with the sparkling dome of the Grand Imperial Hotel’s Starry Sky Ballroom as the backdrop. The caption: “Some moments deserve to be waited for. Three days left.” I “liked” it, using Eleanor’s old phone. A minute later, Henry Taylor sent a private message: “Ms. Castro? Why did you like it? Didn’t you say not to make it public yet?” I replied, mimicking her tone: “Couldn’t help myself. Miss you.” He sent a shy emoji: “I miss you too. The suit fits perfectly, super handsome. That day… will you announce it?” “Of course. I’ll give you the best.” 3. Three days before the gala, I went to the Grand Imperial Hotel under the pretense of checking out a wedding venue for a friend. The hall was being decorated. In the center of the stage, two gilded high-backed chairs, their backs intricately carved with intertwining lotus flowers. A double main seat. “This decor is truly magnificent,” my friend remarked. “Which company is spending so much?” “Indeed,” I said softly. A man walked in from the side door. Black leather shoes, dark grey suit, neat short hair. He held a tablet, confirming details with the staff. It was Henry Taylor. He was even younger than in the photos, tall and well-built, with a confident aura. And I, having spent years tending to my family, had unknowingly gained weight, developing a beer belly. So this was what she meant by, “How can he compare to you?” “Brighten the lights by another 30%. Mrs. Castro said she wants every shot clear that day.” Henry Taylor’s voice was clear and sharp. The staff nodded. “Don’t worry, Mr. Taylor.” My friend whispered, “Who’s that? He’s got a strong presence.” I didn’t answer. Henry Taylor turned, his gaze sweeping over us. He paused for half a second, then a professional smile played on his lips. “And you two are?” “We’re looking at wedding venues,” my friend said. “Is this… your annual gala?” “Yes, the company’s tenth-anniversary celebration.” Henry Taylor walked over, his gaze lingering on my face for a moment. “And you are?” “Mr. Lane.” “Mr. Lane.” He nodded. “This venue is suitable for weddings, but we’ve booked the entire hall.” “If you need, I can recommend other halls.” “No need, thank you.” I smiled. “This venue is beautiful. Your wife put a lot of thought into it.” Henry Taylor’s smile stiffened slightly. It was subtle, but I caught it. “Mrs. Castro put thought into it,” he corrected, his tone gentle. “I’m just helping with the execution.” “Mrs. Castro? Is she single? Booking such a large venue, and with a double main seat, I thought it was prepared for her husband.” The air was silent for a few seconds. Henry Taylor looked at me, his eyes filled with scrutiny, vigilance, and perhaps a hint of subtle triumph. “I’m not too clear on Mrs. Castro’s matters.” He shifted his gaze, telling the staff, “I’m going to confirm the menu. You all continue.” He turned and walked away, his leather shoes clicking crisply. My friend nudged me. “Leo, why did you ask that? It was strange.” “Just a casual question.” I withdrew my gaze. “Let’s go, let’s check out other halls.” We walked towards the elevator. Before the doors closed, I looked back. Henry Taylor stood in the center of the stage, looking down at his tablet. The starry dome light fell upon him, enveloping him in a hazy glow. He looked up, towards the elevator. Our gazes met one last time through the closing doors. He smiled. It was the smile of a victor, full of pity. The elevator descended. “Do you know him?” my friend asked. “No,” I said, watching the numbers tick down. “But I will soon.” That night, Eleanor came home unusually early, looking agitated. “What’s wrong?” I asked, serving her soup. “Nothing.” She rubbed her temples. “The company has a small issue, it’ll be resolved soon.” “That’s good.” I pushed the soup bowl towards her. “By the way, I went to the Grand Imperial Hotel today.” Her movements paused. “What did you go there for?” “Accompanying a friend to look at wedding venues.” My tone was natural. “I saw the Starry Sky Ballroom being decorated. Is it for your annual gala?” “…Mm.” “The double main seat design is very thoughtful.” I looked at her. “Was that your idea?” Eleanor put down her spoon. “It’s the event planning company’s proposal. Don’t overthink it.” “I’m not overthinking.” I smiled. “I just thought, if we were to renew our vows, we could also consider a design like that.” Her expression softened slightly. She took my hand; her palm was warm, but her fingertips were cold. “By the way, yesterday I was tidying the study and saw some photos on your old computer.” I spoke casually. “Was it a team-building event? There was a boy who looked familiar. Was he the one who came to deliver documents to the house last time?” Eleanor’s grip tightened. “Which boy?” “The one with slightly curly hair, quite tall, seemed very capable.” I blinked. “His name was, I think, Taylor?” Silence. A prolonged silence. She let go of my hand, her tone returning to gentle. “That’s Henry from admin. He’s quite capable. Why are you suddenly asking about him?” “I just thought he was quite handsome.” I got up to clear the dishes, my back to her. “With such a capable employee by your side, I feel at ease.” She didn’t say anything more. I carried the dishes into the kitchen and turned on the faucet. The rushing water covered my pounding heart. That night, Eleanor slept soundly. I got up, took the tie clip camera from its hidden compartment, and clipped it to the inside of the black coat I would wear tomorrow.

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My parents bought me a beachfront villa, but my husband gave it to his secretary. Scarlett Bridgeforth posted a nine-grid photo of a pool party on social media, complete with a location tag: [Thank you to Mr. Hayes for the luxurious villa! I’ll definitely work even harder!] The photos sent by the housekeeper showed the garden sculptures smashed, and all the flowers I had planted dug up. I threw the photos directly at Alistair Hayes. [Mr. Hayes, what is the meaning of this? Why are other people in my villa?] Alistair immediately replied with a voice message, the sound of ocean waves in the background. [Don’t be so petty. We have plenty of places to stay.] [Within three hours, I want her out of there, and the villa restored to its original state.] Alistair read my message but didn’t reply. Five minutes later, I auctioned off the villa for one dollar. His antique collection was smashed to smithereens. If someone doesn’t listen, I don’t mind teaching them a lesson. 1 No sooner had I put down my phone than it rang. It was Alistair, who had just read my message without replying. “Natalie Wilson! What have you done?! Why was Scarlett kicked out by security?!” Alistair’s voice was clearly angry. My tone was calm. “That villa is mine. I just sold it.” “The new owner’s only request was to clear out all people and things within an hour.” Silence fell for a few seconds on the other end of the line. “Natalie, have you misunderstood something?” “There’s nothing going on between me and Scarlett. She’s just my secretary.” Alistair’s tone softened slightly. “Don’t you think your approach is too aggressive? And a bit too sensitive.” I couldn’t help but laugh. “Alistair, you’re the one who doesn’t know how to avoid suspicion, who doesn’t know how to keep himself clean. How dare you turn around and accuse me?” Alistair didn’t answer the question, skillfully changing the subject. “Natalie, you have so many other villas; it’s a waste to leave them empty. I was just making reasonable use of resources.” “Scarlett and I really haven’t done anything inappropriate.” He paused, his voice growing somewhat impatient. “Don’t be so petty.” I curved my lips, but my eyes turned cold. “Since Mr. Hayes is so generous, I presume you won’t mind your precious darlings turning into a pile of junk, will you?” With that, I opened my photo album and sent him a few pictures. In the photos, Alistair’s cherished antique collection, accumulated over many years, was smashed to smithereens, fragments scattered across the floor. Silence for a few seconds on the other end of the line. “Natalie. Wilson.” He enunciated my full name, word by word. I knew this was a sign of his extreme anger. But I didn’t care. “Alistair, you must have seen the photos, right?” “That’s the price for trying to challenge my boundaries.” “If you dare to cross the line again, what you’ll lose will be far more than just these worthless trinkets.” With that, I hung up the phone. In these years of marriage, we rarely had fierce arguments. But this didn’t mean I would back down out of fear of conflict. Once the bottom line in a marriage starts to recede, it only leads to the other party taking more and more liberties. What’s more, the beginning of this marriage was not based on pure love. The Hayes family was eager to enter the core of New York City’s elite, needing the assistance of my family, the Wilsons, and thus this commercial marriage was arranged. When we first met, Alistair certainly showed his thoughtfulness and gentleness. And his face was quite deceptive; he handled matters meticulously and appropriately. I thought at the time that perhaps living with such a person wouldn’t be too bad, so I didn’t object to my family’s arrangements. Fortunately, in the course of our marriage, we gradually developed feelings for each other. He and I also had a rather sweet period, once regarded by outsiders as a perfect match. However, no matter the stage, I always clearly understood the importance of putting myself first. Later, intense passion faded, and life settled into a steady rhythm. I could understand and accept that all feelings eventually move towards a quieter state, or even dissipate. But I would absolutely not allow the cause of that dissipation to be the intervention of a third party. From childhood, the thing I most detested was others touching my belongings. If an item became dirty, I would discard it without hesitation. If a person became soiled, the treatment would be the same. 2 Alistair hadn’t contacted me again. He was always like this; once his mistakes were exposed, he would choose silence to escape. That is, until this afternoon, when a message from Mia popped up on my phone. “Natalie, why aren’t you answering me?! I saw you in the venue just now and called your name for ages, but you didn’t respond.” I frowned slightly, quickly replying, “I didn’t go out today. You must have seen wrong.” “It really wasn’t you? I saw that sapphire blue mermaid gown you had custom-made, along with your husband, Mr. Hayes.” “Natalie, wait, I got a front shot.” A photo quickly appeared on my phone. Alistair in a perfectly tailored black suit. And Scarlett beside him, wearing my high-fashion gown, smiling and chatting with someone. I stared at the photo for a full ten seconds. Before I could even react, another message popped up on my phone. This time it was Alistair’s chief assistant, with a screenshot attached. It was Scarlett’s social media post. [First time attending the Skyline Auction. Thank you, Mr. Hayes, for showing me the world. Finally, I know what true high society is [heart emoji.jpg].] The accompanying picture showed her sitting in a front-row seat at the auction, Alistair beside her, a slight smile playing on his lips, clearly tacitly approving of her selfie and caption. I suddenly remembered something: Alistair hated being photographed. Even during our sweetest days, if I wanted to take a couple’s photo, he would frown and refuse. It seemed my morning’s punishment had been too light. Not only did he dare to bring another woman to the most exclusive auction in high society, but he even let her wear my clothes and tacitly allowed her to post a photo of them together on social media to show off. I forwarded the photo directly to Alistair. “Explain this. Why is my dress on her?” The message showed as read, but there was no reply. A few minutes later, I took a picture and sent it over. Mia’s message immediately popped up. “Natalie! What did you send Mr. Hayes?! He suddenly stood up and rushed out, and Scarlett couldn’t even hold him back.” I didn’t reply to my friend because Alistair’s call was already coming in. In the photo I sent, I was sitting in front of the fireplace, holding a meticulously crafted small wooden box. The surface of the box was spotless, clearly cleaned and maintained regularly. “Natalie, put that down.” Alistair’s voice trembled slightly, carrying clear panic and anger. “What are you trying to do?” Inside the wooden box were some carefully preserved items. A few yellowed photographs, a bracelet, and an exquisite jade pendant. The girl in the photos had a bright smile. This was Alistair’s “white moonlight,” his first love who had died of illness. His family had mentioned it unintentionally. I suddenly understood the reason for all of Alistair’s recent abnormal behavior: Scarlett bore a striking seven or eight-tenths resemblance to his “white moonlight.” “Natalie, don’t touch those things!” Alistair’s voice was almost a plea. “Alistair, you know I always hate it when people touch my things.” “Just as you feel right now.” “Now, immediately make Scarlett take off that dress. There’s a changing room at the auction house. Make her change.” Silence on the other end of the line for a few seconds. “Natalie, don’t you only wear those dresses once? What’s wrong with letting her wear clothes you don’t want anymore?” I chuckled, my tone growing colder. “Alistair, even if I don’t want my things, I won’t allow others to touch them.” “You now have two choices.” “Either make Scarlett take off that dress before the auction starts, or…” I rattled the box in my hand, the items inside making faint colliding sounds. “Suffer the consequences.” With that, I hung up the phone directly. 3 In the time that followed, Mia’s messages kept popping up. “Natalie! What did you say to him?!” “Your Mr. Hayes rushed in, his face pale, and dragged Scarlett out without a word.” “Wait, they’re back!” “My God, what’s going on? Scarlett is wearing… a cleaner’s uniform?!” I curved my lips. This result was even better than I had anticipated. “Natalie, Scarlett’s expression, my goodness, it’s priceless!” “Everyone is looking at them both, whispering. I’m starting to get second-hand embarrassment.” “Mia, take some pictures for me.” Mia quickly sent a few photos. In the pictures, Alistair sat impassively. And Scarlett, in a clearly ill-fitting gray uniform, her makeup smudged, her eyes red and swollen. “This auction has an extremely high entry bar; you’re not allowed to leave halfway through. That girl will have to sit through the entire event in a cleaning uniform.” Mia’s tone was filled with schadenfreude. “Your Mr. Hayes’s face is as black as a pot.” “Natalie, your move was brilliant.” “Scarlett, too. Of all people to provoke, she dared to provoke you. In the end, she probably won’t even know how she died.” After the auction ended, Mia sent another message. “When they left, your husband’s face was already liver-colored, and Scarlett was sobbing uncontrollably.” Mia sent a new photo. That sapphire blue mermaid gown was now discarded in a trash can. “Natalie, photo’s taken.” I immediately posted the photo on social media, simply adding a caption: [Trash belongs in the trash can.] In less than five minutes, the post had over a hundred likes. Smart people could tell at a glance that the dress in the trash can was the very one Scarlett had flaunted in her social media post. My meaning was self-evident. “Natalie, Mr. Hayes lost so much face today. He won’t cause you trouble when he gets home, will he?” I calmly replied, “Don’t worry. Even if he had more guts, he wouldn’t dare.” That evening, Alistair returned, his presence heavy with anger, and walked directly up to me. “Natalie Wilson, where are my things?” He spoke, his voice hoarse. I simply stared at him, saying nothing. Alistair tried desperately to suppress his emotions. “Natalie, I admit my behavior today was inappropriate.” “It was my fault for not considering your feelings.” “But I already did as you asked, losing face in front of everyone.” “Can you please stop making a fuss and give me back my things?” I raised an eyebrow. “Alistair, you lost face because of your own inappropriate behavior, not because of me.” “Aren’t you going to explain what happened today?” Alistair avoided my gaze. “We have a purely subordinate relationship. I was just rewarding Scarlett for doing good work.” I sneered, pressing closer. “Alistair, there are so many ways to give a reward. Why did you choose the worst one?” “A luxury villa, an auction, an exorbitant gown—you know very well what these symbolize for an ordinary girl.” “You wouldn’t even take a couple’s photo when I asked, but you were willing to appear with her.” “Every one of your indulgences gave her positive reinforcement. That’s why she became more arrogant, even daring to provoke me.” “And, does her meager work ability truly deserve your rewards?” Alistair remained silent. “Your favoritism towards her is just because she closely resembles your ‘white moonlight,’ isn’t it?” I directly pierced through his thoughts. “But a stand-in is always a stand-in. She can never become that person.” “Alistair, you need to distinguish.” His breathing grew heavy; he remained silent. I pulled the small wooden box from behind me and handed it to him, my voice softening. “Alistair, I understand your obsession with her, and I never intended to destroy the beauty between you two.” “But I hope you won’t destroy the beauty between us either.” “Today’s incident is the first, and it must be the last.” Alistair took the small wooden box and set it aside, then hugged me tightly. “Natalie, I’m sorry.” His voice was hoarse. “I truly know I was wrong.” “Scarlett and I really have no other relationship. I will definitely stay far away from her from now on.” “This kind of thing will absolutely never happen again. Please don’t be angry anymore, okay?” His voice was pleading, his arms wrapped tightly around my waist. I sighed softly, finally choosing to compromise. Then I looked up and bit hard on his lip. Not until blood seeped from the corner of his mouth did I release him, satisfied. “This is the consequence of offending me. Remember, there must never be a next time.” “Okay.” Alistair showed no impatience, his eyes filled with fervent heat. He scooped me up in his arms and carried me into the room.

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I can understand animals. The day my dad decided to take me on a trip to the wilderness, the stray cats downstairs were holding a meeting. “The poor kid. She has no idea her dad’s getting remarried.” “Worse, the new stepmom is pregnant and doesn’t like her. They’re planning to take her out to the middle of nowhere and leave her.” “We’ll never get any more of her fishy treats. Let’s have a little cry.” I already knew. I just didn’t let on. I just gave them their fishy treats one last time, a thoughtful goodbye. Suddenly, a little tabby I’d never seen before padded over and sniffed me. “Human, you want a new dad?” it meowed. “Just say the word, and I’ll bring him to you.” 1 I bought my fishy treats with the lunch money I saved. Two dollars a day. Ten dollars a week. Enough for a ten-pack of treats. There were six strays living around our apartment building. But Ginger wasn’t one of them. Ginger was my sister. When I was three, Mom brought Ginger home. She smiled at me and said, “Annie, you’re a big sister now. You have to take good care of Ginger.” Ginger just puffed up her fur and meowed indignantly. “I’m the sister! I’m the boss!” Everyone loved Ginger at first. But as soon as Mom got sick and passed away, Dad threw her out. He hated Ginger. He hated the way she shed. He hated her for scratching people and clawing the sofa. He hated her constant “meowing.” But Ginger wasn’t just meowing. She was talking. She was saying, “I’m hungry.” “My water bowl is empty.” “I’m so bored, come play with me!” Just like now. I was crouched down, feeding her. As she ate, she purred, “So yummy, so yummy!” and then asked, “Is your dad taking you on a trip? How long will you be gone?” Patches, the little calico, swatted her. “It’s not a trip, you dummy! He’s ditching her! I heard him on the phone in the garage!” Oreo, the black-and-white kitten, chimed in. “I heard it too! Her stepmom is pregnant, and they’re planning to take her deep into the wilderness.” “Oh my gosh! Does that mean we’ll never get treats from her again?” “Let’s have a little cry.” The cats erupted into a chorus of worried meows. Only the tabby I’d never seen before walked over, circling me once before letting out a soft meow. “Human, you want a new dad? My dad needs a daughter. He’s the best. If you want him, I’ll bring him to you.” A new dad? But… “I already have a dad.” 2 When I got home, Jenna was there. She and Dad were fighting again. I stood outside the door, listening to her sobbing. “Just give me a straight answer. When are you getting rid of that kid? She talks to cats and dogs all day. Who knows if she’s autistic or schizophrenic or something? I’m starting to show! If we don’t have the wedding soon, what’s our son going to think when he’s born, having to live with a psycho?” Jenna didn’t like me. She didn’t like how quiet I was. She didn’t like that I couldn’t say sweet, flattering things. And she especially hated it when I went downstairs to feed Ginger. She was always telling Dad there was something wrong with me. That I was autistic. That only schizophrenics claim they can understand animals. At first, Dad didn’t believe her. But slowly, he started to resent me too. He hated that I was so quiet. He hated how slow I was, how I dawdled. When money went missing from the house, he’d slap me without a second thought, forcing me to confess. “It’s just you and Jenna in this house. If it wasn’t you, was it her?” He was never like this when Mom was alive. I opened the door, and their conversation died instantly. Jenna choked back her tears and went into her room. Dad glanced at me but said nothing. It wasn’t until I had my shoes off and was opening my bedroom door that he finally spoke. “Annie,” he called out. “You’ve always wanted to see the great plains, haven’t you? Your eighth birthday is the day after tomorrow… I’ll take you.” So it was true. He was going to leave me there. A knot of sadness tightened in my chest. But I didn’t let on. I just nodded softly. “Okay.” 3 Dad wouldn’t let me leave the house anymore. He kept me locked inside while he went out early every morning, telling anyone who would listen that he was taking me on a special trip, putting on a show of being a doting father. “It’s her birthday wish, you know? You have to make a kid’s wish come true.” I didn’t see it myself. Ginger told me. She was too scared to come near the apartment, afraid he’d hurt her. So she’d just call up from the darkness below my window late at night. “Hey, kiddo! Hey!” “Your dad’s really gonna do it. He’s gonna ditch you.” “Are you gonna run? You gotta run!” Afraid Dad would hear, I couldn’t shout back. I just stuck my head out the window, shook it, and whispered, “I can’t.” “Okay, got it.” She flicked her tail and vanished. All the cats disappeared after that. By the time Dad loaded me into the car on the day we were leaving, I hadn’t seen any of them. A part of me was sad. Sad that I hadn’t saved up for more treats. Sad that I didn’t spend a little more time with them that last day. Sad that as the car pulled away from our building, the street behind us was completely empty. I was so lost in my sadness that I didn’t even hear Dad tell me to sit properly and close my eyes for a nap. He got angry. His voice suddenly sharp, he snapped, “Annie, I told you to sit still! How many times do I have to tell you to listen?” His impatience was the same as when he forbade me from feeding Ginger, the same as when he demanded I suck up to Jenna. I used to hesitate, taking forever to find the right placating words. “I know, Daddy.” But now, I didn’t know what to say at all. Just then, after passing through an intersection, the car sputtered with a loud thump-thump and rolled to a stop. Dad’s attention was diverted. He got out to check, muttering under his breath, “Damn it! The fuel tank’s leaking.” He pulled a reflective triangle from the trunk, set it up behind the car, and started making a call. The tow truck arrived quickly, hauling our car to the nearest repair shop. I sat in the waiting room, listening to my dad. “How long will it take? It’s my kid’s birthday, and I promised her a road trip to the plains. Can we get it back today?” The mechanic had arms covered in tattoos and a tough-looking face, but his smile was warm. “Takin’ the kid out, huh? Sure thing. I’ll bump you to the front of the line. Looks like a busted connection pipe. An hour, maybe a little more, and you’ll be on your way. Won’t ruin your trip.” Dad agreed and told me not to wander off before stepping outside to call Jenna. He didn’t need to worry. I wouldn’t run. Mom didn’t have any family. My grandparents didn’t like me. Even if I ran, I had nowhere to go. But… staying felt like I had nowhere to go either. My eyes started to burn. I felt that familiar lump in my throat. But Dad hated it when I cried. Terrified he’d see, I quickly rubbed my eyes. Just then, a piercing shriek cut through the air from outside the shop. It was Ginger. “Annie! Annie!” she wailed. “It hurts, it hurts so bad! Come here! You have to come here!” Ginger was hurt? I shot to my feet. But when I stepped outside, I couldn’t see her. I only saw my dad, standing a short distance away, still on the phone. Ginger’s cries were coming from the opposite direction. Not wanting to bother Dad, I hesitated for a moment, then broke into a run toward the sound of her voice, turning into a narrow alley. But Ginger wasn’t in the alley. Only her voice, echoing off the walls. The closer I got, the farther away her cries seemed. No matter how fast I ran, she was always just ahead, calling to me. “Over here, come over here!” Her voice grew more pained, more desperate. My heart pounded. I ran for what felt like miles, crossing several streets until I finally spotted her beneath a large office building across an intersection. But as I got closer, Ginger vanished. And another cat leaped out. It was the little tabby. He clamped his teeth onto my pant leg and started pulling me toward the building’s entrance. Just then, a few people came out. One of them was a man in a sharp suit, but his shoulders were slumped and his face was a mask of misery. When he saw the tabby, his eyes lit up. With a loud sob, he rushed forward, dropping to his knees and scooping the cat into a tearful embrace. “Rocky? Is that you? Oh, Rocky! Daddy missed you so much!” The tabby, Rocky, didn’t let go of my pants. He just gave the man’s face a few impatient smacks with his paw while letting out a series of urgent, muffled meows. “Dad! Stray human! Quick, before she’s gone!” 4 Rocky’s little paws made soft pat-pat sounds against the man’s face, leaving faint red marks on his cheeks. But the man didn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, he looked moved, nuzzling his face against the cat’s head. “Oh, yes, that’s my Rocky. That’s the right amount of force.” A small crowd was gathering. Someone gently cleared their throat to get his attention. He finally opened his tear-filled eyes, wiped them, and noticed me for the first time. “Where did this child come from?” Someone pointed to my pant leg, still firmly in Rocky’s mouth. “It looks like your cat brought her here. He’s not letting go, and I don’t see any parents around. Maybe you should take her upstairs and call the police.” The man let go of Rocky, but the cat just continued his muffled, insistent meows, tugging me toward the building. The man nodded. “Alright, let’s go inside first.” Only then did Rocky release my pants, giving his dad’s hair a rewarding lick. “Good dad,” he purred. “So obedient.” I shouldn’t have gone with them. I was so worried about Ginger. But the words of protest got stuck in my throat. Before I could form a sentence, Rocky’s dad had scooped him up with one arm and taken my hand with the other. By the time I’d figured out what to say, I was already sitting in a big office. “I… I shouldn’t—” “Hey there, little one. My name is Mr. Pierce. You can call me Sean. What’s your name? Where are your parents?” Mr. Pierce—Sean—asked me gently. When I didn’t answer, he knelt down, his voice patient. “Do you remember where you live? What about a phone number? Do you remember your mom or dad’s number?” It had been so long since anyone had spoken so many words to me. Ever since Jenna said I was sick six months ago, Dad stopped taking me to school. At home, Jenna barely spoke to me, and Dad didn’t like it when I talked. If I said the wrong thing, he’d get angry. If I spoke too slowly, he’d get angry. Soon, I stopped talking to anyone but the cats and dogs. Worried I’d say the wrong thing now, I thought and thought, but before I could come up with an answer, Rocky started meowing for me. “She doesn’t have a mom. Her dad’s bad.” “She doesn’t have a home.” “No phone number.” “Dad, Cat is giving her to you. You be her dad now!” Rocky rubbed against Sean’s leg, answering for me. Sean didn’t understand, of course. He just scooped Rocky into his arms and started stroking his fur. “My Rocky is such a good, kind-hearted kitty. Don’t you worry, we’ll call the police right away and make sure this little girl gets home safe.” Rocky got so frustrated he started batting at him. “I told you, she has, no, home! She has no home! Old man! Take her, to our, house!” But Sean just laughed, his eyes crinkling. “Hahaha, Rocky, Rocky! You really love your daddy, don’t you?” It seemed Rocky wasn’t wrong. His dad really was nice. A pang of envy went through me. My chest felt tight and sour. I watched them for a long time, and finally, I gathered all my courage and spoke in a small voice. “Can you… not call the police?” 5 I knew what would happen. If he called the police, they would take me home. And then Dad would yell at me. He’d yell at me for running off, for not listening. Then Jenna would start crying, and he’d still end up taking me away. Now that I’d already run away, it would save Dad a long drive. It was all the same in the end. I… I didn’t want to be yelled at. And I didn’t want to be hit. “I… I don’t want to go home.” I buried my face in my hands, my voice barely a whisper. But Sean heard me. He looked at Rocky, then back at me. The smile vanished from his face as understanding seemed to dawn on him. He stood up and said something quietly to the man who had helped him earlier. Once the man left, Sean knelt in front of me again, placing Rocky in my lap. “Can you watch Rocky for me for a little bit? Don’t let him run off,” he said softly. “I have something I need to take care of, and I can’t look after him right now.” He was crouched so low I could see into his eyes without lifting my head. His eyes were so kind. They seemed to hold a light in them. I couldn’t refuse. Before I knew it, I had nodded. “Okay.” He left, leaving me and Rocky alone in the big office. Rocky licked the back of my hand. “My dad’s nice, right?” he purred. “Ginger and I worked hard to get you here. Don’t you go running off. Just stick with Cat and you’ll be fine.” I froze for a second. Tears welled in my eyes. So Ginger was okay? And the leak in Dad’s fuel tank… the cats did that? All so I wouldn’t be taken away? The cats were so good to me. But Mom always said not to be a bother to people. Even though I couldn’t stay… “Thank you, Rocky.” Rocky’s fur bristled. “I’m not just some tabby! I’m a magnificent Bengal! Bengal!” I nodded, hugging him tighter and wiping my blurry eyes. “Ben-gal,” I repeated.

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How do you tell your husband you’re pregnant with style when you’re in the middle of giving him the silent treatment? Naturally, I turned to the internet for help and decided to follow the advice of the true experts: the seasoned romance novel readers with a decade of tropes under their belts. Their plan was flawless. Step one: Run away with the baby bump in tow. Step two: The dramatic morning sickness reveal at the dinner table. Step three: Schedule a fake abortion and list his number as the emergency contact… It all went perfectly… until I saw him completely lose his mind. And that’s when I realized: Wait a second. I think I might have taken this a little too far. 1 Good news: I’m pregnant. Bad news: We’re in the middle of a cold war. How was I supposed to tell my husband, Alistair, without completely losing face? I posted a picture of the positive pregnancy test online and asked for advice. The internet’s good Samaritans did not disappoint; within moments, my phone was flooded with thousands of replies. 【Just send him the picture and tell him the baby’s gone. It froze to death from the cold shoulder you two were giving each other.】 【Stand in front of him and declare solemnly: ‘We are not alone in this fight.’】 【Make a grand comeback in five years with quintuplets.】 【Tell him: ‘Come here. Kneel. I have something to tell you.’】 … This generation of netizens really comes through when you need them. I watched the comment count skyrocket, marveling at the sheer number of good people in the world. Among the tens of thousands of comments, a few top-voted ones caught my eye. 【Do the classic runaway pregnant wife plot. I’ve been reading romance novels for ten years, trust my expertise.】 【First, schedule an abortion and list his number as the emergency contact. Then, you can sneak over to my city and cover my shift at work.】 I conveniently ignored that last part. 【At dinner, make a few gagging noises in front of him, then run to the bathroom.】 The repeated claims of “ten years of novel-reading experience” filled me with confidence. I glanced at the unanswered messages I’d sent Alistair, the memory of his cold, indifferent face fueling my anger. With a decisive tap, I blocked him. Enjoy the blocklist while you’re busy with your work, you clueless blockhead. I’ve got a very big surprise waiting for you. 2 Step one of running away from home: select a suitable vehicle from the garage. My eyes landed on Alistair’s favorite, a sleek, midnight-black Bugatti supercar. You’re the one, Alistair’s favorite child. To make the drama as authentic as possible, I waited for the day I knew he’d be swamped with work, then sped off. With the top down and the wind in my hair, I sighed contentedly. This was the life. Alistair could go cool his heels somewhere else. The roads were clear, and soon I was pulling up to my best friend Veronica’s place with my luggage in tow. Sprawled on her couch, I laid out my master plan. She just collapsed onto my shoulder, howling with laughter. “Seriously, Selena, what is going on in that head of yours?” she asked, completely bewildered. “What did our dear Mr. Russo do to offend you this time?” Just thinking about it made my blood boil. I hate to admit it, but our previous arguments had been a bit… flimsy. There was the time he forgot to buy me the new Hermès bag on his business trip, only for me to realize I’d never actually asked for it. Or the time he ate spicy takeout next to me while I had cramps… But! This time, it was one hundred percent Alistair’s fault! I told Veronica this with absolute certainty. “Alright, spill. What happened?” She propped her chin up, grabbing a bag of chips with the air of someone settling in for a good show. This had been her attitude toward my fights with Alistair ever since college. She was convinced we’d never really fight, that we were an endgame couple. “Stop eating!” I swatted her hand away. “General Veronica, show some respect! This is serious!” “Yes, Commander Selena.” The cause of our current cold war was a tale of pure tragedy, enough to make anyone who heard it weep. 3 The other day, after arranging my collection of designer bags, I decided to graciously check on Alistair, who was busy in his study. I tiptoed through the bedroom and crept up behind him. He was holding his phone to his ear, clearly on a call, while staring at a photograph in his other hand. I popped my head over his shoulder. “Alistair!” Normally, when he was busy, he’d look up, smile, and motion for me to sit with him. If he wasn’t, he’d pull me onto his lap to look over the boring documents with him. But this time, he flinched, hastily shoving the photo into a drawer as if trying to hide something. “Alistair, what are you hiding?” His eyes darted away, avoiding my gaze. The ever-composed, rational man was suddenly a picture of guilt. “It’s nothing. Just some old junk.” “Alistair!” I felt a surge of panic. “You’re lying.” He had a tell. Whenever he lied, he would subconsciously tap his fingers on the nearest surface. I reached for the drawer. “I said it’s nothing!” He grabbed my wrist, his grip firm, preventing me from opening it. Then, he locked it. “Alistair, what can’t you tell me?” I asked, my voice laced with hurt. In all the years I’d known him, he’d never hidden anything from me. Even during company crises, confidential files were left out in the open for me to see. He refused to say what it was, just kept avoiding my eyes. My frustration mounted, and I angrily tried to snatch the key from his hand. In the struggle, I lost my balance and nearly fell. Alistair caught me, pulling me upright before his patience finally snapped. “Selena, when are you going to stop with this drama?” His voice was icy, laced with an anger he could no longer contain. I froze, then glared at him. “Alistair Russo, if you can’t stand me anymore, then let’s get a divorce.” I spun around and stormed out. Behind me, there was only silence. He didn’t even try to follow me, to apologize. Men. He wasn’t worth my tears. I wiped my eyes, packed my things, and moved into the guest room. Curled up on the bed, my tears soaked into the silk pillowcase. I couldn’t hold it in. I started sobbing. The truth was, I had seen it. The photo in his hand was of a woman. It looked old, the edges frayed and white. And the woman looked just like me. 4 Veronica slammed her hand on the sofa. “You’re telling me Alistair is cheating on you?!” She rolled up her sleeves, looking furious enough to tear him limb from limb. I gave her a sidelong glance. “Cut the act.” She deflated, sitting back down and patting my leg gently. “Okay, but seriously, honey, if he’s bullying you, I’m on your side. 100%.” “That’s why I ran away. With the baby.” She threw her hands up in the air. “I fully support this!” I’d barely finished unpacking at Veronica’s when my phone started ringing nonstop. It was his assistant, Liam. Obviously, Alistair had sent him. What, you ask, why didn’t Alistair call me himself? Because I’d blocked him, of course. And his family. And his friends. Block, delete, repeat. It was the full-service treatment. Back in a black Bentley, Alistair’s face was thunderous as he watched his assistant make another call. “Sir, she hung up.” “Call again!” “She… blocked me.” Alistair let out a humorless laugh. He’d come home to a scene of what looked like a robbery. Selena’s closet was empty, her bags and clothes gone. His own clothes were thrown on the floor, and to top it all off, his favorite car was missing from the garage. He knew instantly who was responsible. I felt my face, a smirk playing on my lips. Don’t praise me, I’ll get a big head. Anyway, things unfolded just as you’d expect. A storm raged outside as Alistair Russo stood on Veronica’s doorstep. He knocked. “Selena, open the door.” I ignored him, sitting on the entryway bench with my arms crossed, staring defiantly at the door. Who knew that Alistair—unbelievably—had the code to Veronica’s apartment. 5 The door swung open. Alistair’s cold, handsome face and eyes simmering with fury met mine. I whipped my head around to glare at Veronica, who was grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Veronica!” Alistair scooped me up from the bench and started carrying me out. “Alistair, I’m not going back!” I clung to a nearby cabinet. “Selena, what is this about?” he demanded. “Just let me explain.” I met his gaze. “Alistair, you still think I’m just throwing a tantrum?” I struggled out of his arms and pointed to the door. “I’m not listening. Just go.” He stood there silently, fiddling with his phone. So, not even an explanation now? I stared at the face I had loved for so long. Had he been tolerating me this whole time? Did he really just see me as dramatic and childish? Alistair looked up from his phone, his eyes meeting my crestfallen expression. He suddenly shoved the phone in my face. On the screen was a picture of the “Sea Princess,” a magnificent yacht I had been dreaming of for ages, docked elegantly in a beautiful bay. “For my princess,” he said simply. “The Sea Princess. I bought it.” I fell silent instantly, my eyes glued to the screen. Are you kidding me? That was the Sea Princess! That was a $25 million yacht! Heh. Alistair did have his good points. My face was practically splitting from smiling so hard as I held the phone. “Selena,” he said, taking the phone back. “Can you listen to me now?” I nodded like a bobblehead. “That day, I was hiding a photo. There’s a girl in it who looks like you…” I nodded again, my eyes still trying to follow the phone. He tilted my chin up, forcing me to look at him. “I don’t know her. She was just a candidate in an interview. I hid it because I was afraid you’d misunderstand.” It was a flimsy excuse, but… There was the yacht. Besides, just like Veronica, I never truly believed Alistair would cheat on me. We’d been together too long for that. I will absolutely not admit that the yacht was the deciding factor. And anyway, I still had the rest of my plan to execute. 6 I went back home. As we were leaving, Veronica leaned against the doorframe, watching Alistair carry my bags. “So what was the point of all this drama?” she whispered. I looked at her and said, loud enough for Alistair to hear, “I’m just going home with him. It doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven him.” All that commotion had made me starving. I had the housekeeper prepare a meal, ready to execute step two of my plan. I continued to ignore Alistair, and we ate in tense silence. “Urgh…” I shot him a sidelong glance, then dramatically dropped my chopsticks and bolted for the bathroom. I thought my performance was convincing enough, but Alistair didn’t fall for it! He followed me, looking utterly bewildered as I pretended to retch into the toilet. After a long pause, he finally said, “Selena, what did you sneak-eat this time?” Huh? What was happening? This wasn’t how it was supposed to go! It was obvious Alistair had never watched a single daytime soap opera in his life. Seriously. What a waste of my acting talent. I shot him a withering look. Useless man. Fine. I still had other tricks up my sleeve. The sight of his face was starting to annoy me again. I went back to our room, feeling a small thrill of satisfaction when I saw his clothes were still on the floor where I’d left them. I tried the fake-vomiting routine a few more times, but that blockhead Alistair just kept asking if I had food poisoning. Did he really think I was that much of a glutton? So what if I had a few spicy chips and some ice cream now and then? I hadn’t touched any of it since I found out I was pregnant. The bottom line was, he was just too dumb. The next day, while Alistair was at the office, I decided to move on to my final, most dramatic step. I scheduled an abortion at a private hospital owned by the Russo Corporation. And yes, I put Alistair’s name and number down as the emergency contact. Sitting in the waiting room, I hit ‘confirm’ on the appointment. A smirk crossed my face. The confirmation text should be hitting his phone any second now. I was a genius. For good measure, I also posted on my social media: 【My darling, it’s not that Mommy doesn’t love you… it’s just… I don’t want to bring you into a loveless home.】 The post was accompanied by a picture of my ultrasound report. And I set the post to be visible only to him. Sure enough, the moment Alistair saw it, he lost his mind.

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Weston Croft attracted chaos, chiefly through his ex-wife. In our five-year marriage, she had nine near-death episodes. First, kidney failure—she skipped dialysis to chase a pop star. I gave her a kidney, then nearly died from an anesthesia allergy. Later, she took up street racing and crashed, needing a massive transfusion; Weston drained me almost dry. Over those years, I deteriorated from healthy to a frail invalid. The ninth time, she bungee-jumped over a hundred times until her heart gave out. Weston knelt before me, trembling and in tears. “Lena,” he pleaded, “Iris saved my life. I must give her a healthy body!” He strapped me down and performed the surgery himself. Once the transplant was done, he rushed to her side, forgetting to stitch me up. Before leaving, he met my eyes. “This is hard, but you still have me. I’ll spend my life making it up to you.” Watching him go, I smiled bitterly. He didn’t know that in two minutes, I would bleed to death. A dead woman needs no apologies. I lay on the cold operating table, my eyes filled with a despair so vast it swallowed everything else. Blood poured from the gaping wound in my chest, and the heart monitor beside me flatlined into a single, piercing tone. But none of it was enough to make Weston turn back. He never once looked over his shoulder. He was in such a hurry he even lost a shoe. I tried to call out to him, but my throat was clogged with blood. I couldn’t make a sound. The pain was excruciating, a deep, bone-grinding agony with every movement. Yet, a fierce will to live pushed me to move, to roll off the table and onto the frigid floor. I clenched my teeth against the searing pain and began to crawl, inch by inch, toward the operating room door, leaving a gruesome trail of blood in my wake. Just as my fingers brushed against the door, it was slammed shut from the other side. Through the heavy steel, I heard Weston’s cold, detached voice. “Lock it. Don’t open it for any reason until I get back. Lena has a temper. If we let her out now, she’ll make a scene. Iris just had a heart transplant; she can’t handle any stress. You watch this door. Don’t let her out.” I collapsed against the door, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. He remembered that his precious Iris couldn’t handle stress. He forgot that I had just undergone open-heart surgery too, receiving her failing heart in return for my healthy one. I was far more fragile than she was. And my chest was still wide open. I wouldn’t be waiting for his return. I wouldn’t be making any more scenes. Because in a few moments, I would bleed to death, alone in this operating room. My vision began to blur. But I didn’t feel sad. Instead, a wave of relief washed over me. Compared to the torment of the past five years, death was a kindness. At least I wouldn’t have to be Iris’s spare parts anymore, her personal, walking blood bag. Five years. I had saved her nine times. When she skipped dialysis and her kidneys failed, Weston forced me to donate one of mine. When she crashed her car and was bleeding out, he drained my blood to save her. When she played with fire and got severely burned, he had my skin grafted from my back to repair hers. In five years of marriage, everything inside me that could be replaced, had been. Even my heart. He didn’t hesitate for a second to give it to Iris. My desperate sobs, my broken pleas—in his eyes, they were just childish tantrums. But now, it was all ending. In two minutes, I would be gone from this world. I would be just as he wanted—quiet, not crying, not screaming at him, asking him why he was so cruel. He wouldn’t have to bother with the annoyance of trying to placate me. After all, the dead don’t have emotions. When I opened my eyes again, I was floating in the air. Even in death, the scene before me was a dagger to the heart. Weston sat by Iris’s bedside, patiently feeding her a bowl of soup. He blew on each spoonful to cool it before bringing it to her lips, his attention so completely focused on her that he seemed to have forgotten everything else. Forgotten that his wife was lying in a cold operating room, cut open and bleeding, her life hanging by a thread. I drifted silently, watching the face I had loved for five years, now so utterly repulsive to me. After she finished the soup, Weston gently wiped her mouth with a napkin. He checked the monitors connected to her, and only when he was certain everything was stable did he stand up. “Iris, you’re recovering well. You just need to rest.” His voice was soft, gentle. “I should go check on Lena now.” A sarcastic smile touched my lips. How kind of him to remember me. Too bad he didn’t know I was already dead. I had bled out completely, my eyes open in a final, unseeing stare. Weston tucked the blanket around Iris and turned to leave. But she reached out and grabbed his arm. “Weston, I just had surgery. I don’t have anyone to look after me. Can you stay? Just for a little while?” He froze, his expression conflicted. “But Lena just had surgery too. I was worried she’d cause a scene, so I had her locked in the operating room. It’s been eight hours. If I don’t let her out, I’m afraid something might happen.” A flash of jealousy crossed Iris’s face, but she quickly masked it with a look of selfless concern. “You’re right. She must be furious. Last time, after she gave me her kidney, she was still recovering when she came to my room and slapped me. My face was swollen for two weeks! And after the skin graft, she stormed in, covered in blood, screaming at me, calling me shameless. It was so humiliating. But it’s okay. I brought it on myself. She’s saved me so many times, I should be grateful. Weston, you don’t have to worry about me. Go to Lena. And please, tell her for me, that as soon as I’m better, I’ll come and thank her personally, on my knees.” Her words were sweet, but every one was a carefully crafted accusation against me. And just as she intended, Weston’s expression hardened. He sat back down on the bed. “I’d almost forgotten how unreasonable she can be,” he sneered. “She’s always used the fact that she’s ‘helped’ you as an excuse to humiliate you. If I hadn’t locked her up this time, who knows what kind of scene she would have made. Forget her. She’s tough. She won’t die. A little more time locked up will do her good. Teach her a lesson.” Even though I had expected it, tears welled in my spectral eyes. Tough? Maybe once. But now, after everything they had done to me, I was a wreck, my body ravaged by illness and pain. I bit my lip, my voice a silent scream. Weston, you don’t have to bother locking me up. I’m already dead! You don’t have to teach me any more lessons. The dead don’t cause trouble! But he couldn’t hear me. Iris, her eyes gleaming with triumph, pressed against him. “Weston, she saved my life so many times. I deserved her anger. And she is your wife, after all. You should go to her.” Weston’s brow furrowed in disgust. “What’s the point? I told her from the beginning—you saved my life. By marrying me, she accepted the responsibility of repaying that debt. It’s her duty to save you. I’ve spoiled her, that’s the problem. She’s become so selfish and demanding. This time, I’m going to teach her a lesson she won’t forget. Then maybe she’ll finally leave you alone.” I floated above him, tears of bitter laughter streaming down my face. He could repay his debt. But why did he have to use my body to do it? Iris, feigning tears, wrapped her arms around his waist. “Weston, I know you care about me. But Lena must be so angry. She’ll have to come out eventually. What if she tries to get revenge on me?” Weston’s fist clenched. “Then I’ll keep her locked up for a few more days. I’ll let her out after you’re discharged.” I let out a cold, silent laugh. By the time she was discharged, my body would be rotting. Iris snuggled into his embrace, a triumphant smile on her face. “Weston, will you stay with me for the next few days? I’m scared to be alone.” He was about to answer when the door to the room burst open. His assistant rushed in, his face pale with panic. “Dr. Croft, you need to get to the operating room, now! It’s your wife… something’s wrong!” Weston just stared for a moment, then scoffed. “What now? What kind of drama is she pulling this time? And I thought I told you not to let her out without my permission.” The assistant shook his head frantically, on the verge of tears. “No, sir, we didn’t let her out! It’s… just, you have to come see for yourself!” Weston’s face was a mask of annoyance, but he stood up. He stroked Iris’s cheek, his voice softening. “You rest. I’ll be right back. Don’t worry, as long as I’m here, Lena won’t dare to bother you.” He followed his assistant out, his expression grim. “She better have a good reason for this. If I find out this is just another one of her games, I’ll make her regret it.” I drifted behind him, a mocking smile on my lips. Oh, Weston. You’ll find out soon enough if I’m playing games. I hope you can keep your composure when you see my blood-soaked corpse. A crowd had gathered outside the operating room. Doctors, who saw life and death every day, were clustered together, their faces etched with anxiety. When they saw Weston, they rushed toward him as if he were their savior. “Dr. Croft, we did as you said. We had someone guard the door. But it’s been eight hours, and there’s been no sound from inside. We were worried about your wife, so we decided to open the door and bring her some food. But the door is jammed. We can’t see inside, but… there’s a lot of blood seeping out from under the door.” “We’ve been calling her name, but there’s no answer. Dr. Croft, with all that blood… do you think something’s happened?” Weston glanced down at the floor. Just as they’d said, a large pool of dark blood had seeped out from under the door. The sight of it was chilling. Anyone with a shred of medical knowledge would know that amount of blood loss was fatal. But Weston, the chief surgeon, just looked on, unmoved. “What are you panicking for? You’re doctors. You’ve seen blood before. Tell me, what kind of blood is this color?” He pointed a disdainful finger at the dark, almost black puddle. “You call yourselves doctors, and you’re scared by a little fake blood?” I looked down, a knot of cold dread tightening in my non-existent stomach. Perhaps because I’d been dead for a while, the blood had oxidized, turning a strange, dark color. The other doctors exchanged uneasy glances, but no one dared to contradict him. He sneered and kicked the door. “Lena, you never change, do you? You’d go to such pathetic lengths just to get my attention. You want out so badly, then why are you blocking the door? I’ll say it again: Iris is my savior. It’s my duty to save her. Can you just stop with this childish behavior? I’m counting to three. If you don’t open this door, you can stay in there forever!” “Three!” “Two!” “One!” The countdown ended. The operating room remained silent. Someone brought a crowbar, but Weston kicked it away. “Since she wants to be stubborn, then I’ll let her be! Seal the door! Get ten security guards and post them here. Don’t open it even if she gets on her knees and begs! Let’s see how tough she really is!” I floated behind him, watching with cold detachment. He didn’t know the door was jammed not because I was blocking it, but because my stiff, lifeless body was wedged against it. If he had just pushed a little harder, pried it open a little wider, he would have seen my mangled corpse. After the door was sealed, Weston kicked it twice more, his voice filled with venom. “Go on, Lena, keep playing your games! Let’s see how long you can last! If you’re really so tough, then stay in there forever! Don’t come crying to me to let you out!” I looked at his furious face, a cold smile forming on my lips. I won’t. I won’t beg you to open the door. Because I’m never coming out of there alive.

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The day before my wedding, I asked my best friend to try on her bridesmaid dress. She showed up wearing my wedding gown. The next morning, on my actual wedding day, my best friend and my fiancé emerged from the same hotel room, disheveled. The staff gasped in shock, and my parents were beside themselves with grief and outrage. My fiancé, guilt etched on his face, stepped forward to embrace me. I didn’t raise my voice or make a scene. Instead, I calmly and generously announced that I would hand over the entire wedding ceremony to them. My best friend preened, completely unaware. Just moments before, as my fiancé held me, the silver cross my grandmother had given me shattered. My grandmother had always said that when the cross broke, it meant it had deflected a calamity. A disaster of epic proportions. 1 “Delia, last night was an accident. I swear, I just… accidentally put on your wedding dress. And Aiden, well, he was so drunk he didn’t even notice…” My best friend, Clara Mackie, was saying all this, but the triumphant gleam in her eyes? Impossible to miss. Oh, I knew exactly what she was so proud of. Aiden Miller, from a prominent family, devastatingly handsome and charming. More than that, he’d always doted on his girlfriends. In the six months he’d pursued me, he showered me with gifts worth over a million dollars. We’d been together for half a year, and I’d finally agreed to marry him. And then… this. The scene before me was utterly ridiculous. Clara stood there, in my torn wedding gown, the marks on her exposed skin screaming volumes about last night’s events. Aiden, my fiancé, kept his head down, seemingly too ashamed to meet my gaze. My parents, livid, were yelling at Aiden, my father even kicking him in the shin, only to be held back by hotel staff. Aiden scrambled to his feet, walked over to me, and gave me a soft hug. “Delia, I’ve wronged you, I know. But what’s done is done. I… I hope you can grant us your blessing.” The audacity of that statement was staggering. I wasn’t stupid; I could see the subtle satisfaction in his eyes when he looked at Clara. She did have a better figure than me, and she was certainly more uninhibited. Aiden had hinted at it countless times during our courtship, but I always wanted to save that for after we were married. Everyone in the room braced themselves, expecting me to slap him or unleash a torrent of curses. Instead, I just smiled and nodded. “Alright.” Not only that, I added, “The venue’s already booked. You two can just get married today, right here.” Aiden visibly relaxed. “Delia, I knew you were a generous woman.” My parents looked like they were about to spontaneously combust, my father even reaching for a waiter’s broom, ready to wield it. “Delia Hayes! You’re just going to let these two get away with it? What about your parents’ dignity?” I gently steered my fuming parents away. Around the corridor’s bend, I pulled out the silver cross that had shattered into two perfect halves. “Mom, Dad, this is the cross Grandma left me.” The moment they saw the once-flawless silver cross now broken, their anger evaporated, replaced by a chilling dread. Mom pulled me quickly into an elevator. She eyed me with a searching look. “Did it… shatter just now?” Dad’s face, which had been beet-red, turned chalky white. His fingers trembled slightly. “No way?” I nodded. “It broke when Aiden hugged me.” My parents exchanged a glance, their brows furrowed in a tight knot. As soon as the elevator doors opened, Dad declared, “We’re moving. Now!” Passing by the wedding display outside the hotel, my parents kicked over Aiden’s life-sized cutout, then carefully picked up mine and carried it away. Mom immediately called the wedding planner, demanding that all photos and text related to me be removed, leaving no trace. Seeing my parents’ intense urgency, I was moved. I deleted all of Aiden’s contacts and photos from my phone. Our family fled the hotel in a panicked rush. That very night, our entire family packed up and moved out of the city. 2 Our extreme reaction stemmed from the cross my grandmother, Elara, had left me. Grandma Elara was renowned as the most powerful witch for miles around. From solving baffling mysteries to finding lost pets, she predicted everything. Some even whispered she wasn’t entirely human, but an animal spirit in disguise, for she had never once been wrong. Grandma Elara lived a full ninety-nine years. The day she passed was a clear, crisp winter morning. She sat in her rocking chair in the yard, soaking up the sun, stroked our old yellow dog twice, then called my name. “Little Delia!” I was only eight then. As I approached, Grandma took the cross she’d worn her entire life and fastened it around my neck. “Little Delia, keep this cross on, never take it off. If one day it shatters, it means it has shielded you from harm.” “You must immediately leave the person closest to you when it breaks.” “A shattered cross means a great calamity. A disaster of epic proportions.” I didn’t fully understand then, asking innocently, “Grandma? What kind of great calamity?” Grandma looked at me, her toothless mouth slowly uttering, “Willow Creek.” With just those two words, Grandma closed her eyes and lay back in her rocking chair, passing away peacefully. Afterward, Grandma Elara received a grand funeral. Not just our village, but respected figures from six neighboring villages attended. I told my parents everything Grandma had said about the cross. When I asked them about Willow Creek, they clammed up, immediately packed our belongings, and moved us to the city. Now, those long-buried memories resurfaced. The scandalous story of Aiden, Clara, and me spread like wildfire through our social circles. At first, everyone thought Clara, my best friend, was utterly despicable for what she did. But then they learned I hadn’t gotten angry; instead, I’d just handed over the groom and the wedding. Suddenly, people started calling me a spineless coward, saying I had no backbone even when my best friend and fiancé ran off together. The rumors swirled endlessly. But I didn’t care. Let them talk. Clara successfully hijacked the wedding, becoming the bride, Aiden’s lawful wife. She seemed incredibly pleased with herself. Her social media was a constant stream of updates, from the wedding day until now. Sparkly, pigeon-egg-sized diamond rings, the two-million-dollar cash gift from Aiden’s parents, Aiden kneeling to put on her crystal slippers, closet after closet of luxury goods… “Thanks to Delia, and thanks to my brave self for pursuing love.” “This time, I want both money and love.” “Life is short, seize the day.” Aiden, to his credit, reciprocated, filling his own feed with endless photos of their affection. Many mutual friends liked her posts, some even sucking up in the comments, “Looks like some people just aren’t destined for good fortune, huh?” Clara seemed to revel in the snide remarks about me, replying with a grinning emoji. I scrolled through her flaunting posts and chuckled. She had no idea what was coming for her, did she? Not only that, Clara went public online, boasting about her “glorious” wedding snatch, garnering significant attention. Her account gained half a million followers overnight. The comments were all praises: “Queen,” “The brave ones get to enjoy the world first,” “The unloved one is the real third party.” The news of my parents and me moving overnight also reached the netizens. The people who’d called me a coward now laughed even harder, saying my parents and I were two peas in a pod—weak and timid. I didn’t mind them talking about me, but seeing the comments mocking my parents, I couldn’t help but retort. I commented on Clara’s post: “You can criticize me, but what’s with dragging my parents into this? Do none of you have parents? Please, netizens, watch your words, and Ms. Mackie, please stop using me for clout.” 3 The moment I posted the comment, I immediately turned off my DMs. As expected, my comment was instantly flooded with attacks. Clara didn’t reply directly, but she liked all the comments slandering me. I shook my head at the black-and-white thinking. Well, what goes around, comes around. We didn’t just move; our new home was half a state away from our original city. It was a secluded area with a smaller population than other places. Mom had suggested a nearby city, but Dad, for reasons unknown, insisted on a location hundreds of miles away. Mom couldn’t argue, so we complied. Although I believed Grandma’s words, I was still curious about my parents’ reaction. That evening, at dinner, I hesitantly asked them, “Mom, Dad, what exactly did Grandma mean by a ‘disaster of epic proportions’?” My parents, who had been jovial moments before, stiffened. Mom put a piece of braised pork onto Dad’s plate. “Delia’s grown up now, honey. Maybe we can tell her?” Dad hesitated, then finally nodded. “Go ahead.” My curiosity intensified. “A disaster of epic proportions? Does it mean a natural calamity?” “Willow Creek, you remember it?” Mom asked, her expression serious. I nodded. “Yes, Grandma mentioned it to me.” Mom’s face was odd. “Willow Creek, hundreds of people, just ten miles from our village. Overnight, the entire village… hanged themselves. Wiped out.” Silence descended on the dinner table, the warm atmosphere instantly freezing. “H-hanged themselves?” I was utterly shocked. I’d imagined Grandma’s “disaster of epic proportions” to be floods, earthquakes, natural disasters. I never expected something so eerie. I pressed on. “Why?!” Mom and Dad looked uncomfortable, speaking in unison. “Ghosts.” The meal finished, but the shock in my heart lingered. No wonder Grandma, on her deathbed, gave me that life-saving cross. That cross had shielded me from such a terrible fate. It seemed Grandma hadn’t just predicted for a lifetime, but had also foreseen my future. Thinking about the Willow Creek incident, a shiver still ran down my spine. Hundreds of people hanging themselves overnight was indeed a horrific tragedy. According to my parents, the disaster about to befall Aiden must be even more terrifying. But why hadn’t the cross shattered before, only after Aiden and Clara’s liaison? Had Grandma even accounted for this unexpected turn? Just as I was marveling at Grandma’s foresight, my phone rang. It was an unknown number. I answered. A gentle, warm voice spoke, “Little Delia, are you alright?” It was Aiden! I immediately hung up and blocked the number. I wanted nothing to do with him anymore. After that night, I stopped answering any unknown calls. I valued my life! Clara continued to flaunt her wealthy wife status online. Luxury cars, designer watches, gold and jewels flowed into her bedroom like a river. Perhaps growing bored, she started looking for trouble with me again. 4 Late at night, Clara, dressed in an expensive fur coat and sitting on a plush sofa, went live. Netizens flocked to her stream, praising her beauty. Clara smiled and nodded. “I’m bored tonight, so I thought I’d do a live stream and chat with everyone.” After casually showcasing a few designer handbags, a commenter prompted her, and she brought up my name again. “Her? She probably just wasn’t born with a rich destiny, you know? Wouldn’t even eat the food spoon-fed to her, hehe.” “Best friend? She used to be… But did she really see me as a best friend? She didn’t even tell me she knew Aiden until they were together. Afraid I’d steal her man, I guess? Classic female rivalry, pfft.” “Where is she now? Her family probably got scared to death. They fled overnight on the day Aiden and I got married, probably terrified I’d become a rich wife and seek revenge.” … Watching this strange woman on screen, I couldn’t help but wonder, how could I have been so blind before? Clara was still spreading rumors about me, but observant viewers in the live stream noticed something unsettling. “Clara, did your wardrobe behind you just move?” “I thought I was the only one who saw it. Feels like there’s something inside?” “Yeah, streamer, go check it out. Maybe it’s a puppy?” Clara didn’t see these comments at first. Until the chat was flooded with warnings for her to be careful of what was behind her. I’d seen it too. The wardrobe behind Clara was slightly ajar, revealing a sliver of what looked like a faint eye. The angle was bizarre, because if it was an eye, it was at the very bottom of the wardrobe. Clara scoffed, annoyed, and clutched her fur coat tighter. “You guys are always trying to scare me. There’s no one in the villa tonight, so don’t even try.” With that, as if to prove her bravery, she clicked across the floor on her high heels to the wardrobe. “See?!” She yanked the cabinet open. “CRASH—” An inverted figure in a black leather jacket tumbled out of the wardrobe, landing with a thud on the floor. His face was covered by a black mask, and expensive jewelry was scattered around him – he was clearly a burglar. But instead of fleeing, he cowered in a corner, trembling, his eyes unfocused, face pale and green. “Ghost… there’s a ghost… ghost… don’t kill me… don’t… don’t…” As he caught sight of Clara’s fair neck, he shrieked, falling to his knees and repeatedly bowing his head to her. “I beg you, don’t kill me, please don’t kill me, I didn’t mean it… spare me, spare me…” The man slammed his forehead against the floor, creating a large bloody patch, and only continued to hit it faster. Clara froze for a moment, then clutched her chest and ran, screaming. “Help! Thief! Help!” In the chaos, the phone broadcasting the live stream fell to the ground, blocking any further view. I looked at the terrified thief, both shocked and afraid. What had he seen to be so utterly petrified? Recalling what Mom said about Willow Creek, I had a terrible premonition. This might be the harbinger of that great disaster. There was definitely something unclean in the Miller villa.

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Everyone knew my billionaire husband was two decades older. He married me to manage his kids. Learning he’d rarely be home, give me ten million monthly, and that I wouldn’t need children, I agreed instantly. My stepson Lucas skipped school for games. I bought his arcade and stayed up, winning all his allowance. My stepdaughter Maya adored a pop star. I paid her idol to give me a foot massage at our mansion, crushing her illusions. Just as we grew close, warnings flashed like comments on my life: “The real heroine, the long-lost daughter, is returning.” “The kids will turn on the stepmom for their real mother.” “Stepmom ends up on the streets, fighting dogs for scraps.” So someone wants to steal my inheritance? Let’s see if my ‘managed’ husband and these kids side with her. I tossed my Hermès scarf into the fireplace, beckoning Lucas and Maya. “Minions, find all your dad’s hidden cash. Tonight, we’re blowing every cent at the club—nothing left for that gold digger.” … My command, and the two figures previously slumped on the sofa, sprang to attention like startled springs. Lucas’s eyes gleamed like a hungry wolf. “Are you talking about the black card the old man hid in the ceiling compartment of his study?” Maya, without a word, tossed her nail polish aside. “And the gold bars he stashed in his old shoes in the walk-in closet!” I nodded, pleased. They truly were his children; they knew his hiding spots better than I did. “Take it all. Tonight’s on Lucas, my treat for you all!” The comments section exploded. “Is this stepmom insane? She’s about to be kicked out with nothing and she’s still pulling stunts?” “The true heroine is at the doorstep, she’s got a DNA test! This stepmom is just having her last hurrah.” “Wait till Mr. Mulvey comes back and sees the house ransacked. He’ll throw this evil woman out for sure!” I smirked, looking at the half-burnt Hermès scarf I’d just rescued from the fire. If I was going to be the wicked stepmother, I might as well act the part. Ten minutes later, Lucas clutched the black card, Maya hugged the gold bars, both beaming with an unprecedented, filial glow. “Mom, which club are we going to? I want the most expensive male escorts!” Maya looked at me eagerly. “The most exclusive one in all of New York. Tonight, we drink till we drop, and I’ll send your… cheap dad our location.” I waved my hand grandly, leading my two “unfilial children” out. No sooner had we left than a taxi pulled up to the villa. A woman in a white dress, tears streaming down her face like pearly rain, stepped out. It was none other than the legendary true heroine, Emily Sterling. She looked at the empty villa, the heartfelt reunion speech she’d prepared stuck in her throat. The comments section was full of question marks. “Where are they? Didn’t they say everyone was waiting to welcome the heroine?” “Where’s the family?” Meanwhile, my two stepchildren and I were in the most luxurious private room in New York. The table was laden with expensive imported liquor, and two rows of male escorts, more handsome than any idol trainee, stood before us. Lucas was busy popping champagne, Maya was busy picking out the hottest guys. I slumped on the sofa, looking at the dozens of missed calls from Julian Mulvey on my phone, then promptly turned it off. Want me to leave with nothing? Dream on. Emily did have some tricks up her sleeve. She actually managed to find the club. The moment the private room door swung open, I was holding a microphone, belting out a duet of “The Big Sedan Chair” with Lucas. Maya was directing three male escorts to peel grapes for her. Emily stood in the doorway, half her white dress soaked from the rain outside, looking like a pitiful white flower caught in a storm. It was a stark contrast to our wild, chaotic scene. The comments section went into a frenzy. “Waaah, the heroine is so pitiful, her real children are right there but they don’t recognize her.” “These two kids have been corrupted by the stepmom. Coming to a place like this at such a young age. Of course, she wouldn’t care since they’re not her own.” “Look, the heroine is crying! The kids must have a psychic connection!” Emily’s eyes immediately reddened, tears flowing on cue. “Lucas, Maya… I’m your mother.” Her cry of “mother” was filled with such sorrow it would break anyone’s heart. The music screeched to a halt. Lucas still held the champagne bottle, staring blankly at the woman in the doorway. Maya still had half a grape in her mouth. I raised an eyebrow, said nothing, just took a bite of watermelon. Seeing no one respond, Emily gritted her teeth and rushed forward, trying to hug Lucas. “My child, Mommy missed you so much. Mommy had her reasons back then…” “Stop!” Lucas deftly dodged, retreating behind me. “Lady, who are you? You reek of poverty. Don’t get your stench on my limited-edition hoodie.” Emily froze, staring at her biological son in disbelief. “I’m your real mother! Don’t you remember? When you were little, you loved Mommy’s braised pork.” “I don’t like braised pork. Dad does.” Lucas cut her off mercilessly, rolling his eyes. “And now I only eat lobster and king crab. Can you afford to buy them for me?” Emily’s face paled, and she instinctively clutched the hem of her dress. She had just returned to the country; where would she get the money for such things? The comments section was indignant. “How can this child be so materialistic! The stepmom must have ruined him!” “Don’t cry, heroine, just throw the DNA test results at them and make them face reality!” Emily’s hand trembled as she pulled a crumpled piece of paper from her bag. “This is a DNA test. You really are my children…” Maya finally swallowed her grape, slowly standing up. She walked up to Emily, looked her up and down, then covered her nose in disgust. “So what if you’re my real mom? Can you buy me Hermès? Can you get my idol to give me a foot massage?” “If you can’t, then why are you back? To fight us for the inheritance?” Emily was completely bewildered. This wasn’t how the script was supposed to go! Where was the mother-child bond, the tearful reunion? Julian Mulvey finally arrived. When he pushed open the door, he was met with a bizarre scene. His ex-wife, Emily, was kneeling on the floor, weeping hysterically. His current wife, me, was casually watching the drama unfold, legs crossed. And his two children were hiding behind me, staring at their biological mother as if she were insane. “What in God’s name is going on here?!” Julian thundered, his face dark. Emily seemed to see a savior, scrambling to his feet and throwing herself at Julian’s feet. “Julian, you’re finally here. I don’t blame the children for not recognizing me; it’s my fault for being away for so long.” “But Delia… how could she bring the children to a place like this? It will ruin them!” A classic move: retreating to adMulvey, and throwing me under the bus in the process. Julian glanced at the table full of liquor bottles, then at the bewildered male escorts, a vein throbbing in his temple. He turned to me, his gaze sharp. “Delia Hayes, is this how you look after the children?” I leisurely wiped my hands. “What? Mr. Mulvey doesn’t like it? This is happiness bought with your money, for your children.” “Besides, I didn’t bring them here to do anything illegal. Just listen to music, have a few drinks, and, by the way…” I pointed to the male escorts. “Let your daughter experience the diversity of men early, so she doesn’t get fooled by scumbags like you later on.” Julian choked on his anger. The comments section, however, suddenly became excited. “Although… the stepmom makes a really good point.” “This stepmom has some guts, her mouth is blessed.” “Mr. Mulvey, quickly help the heroine up! Rekindle the old flame! Patch things up!” Julian did indeed help Emily up. But the look in his eyes wasn’t the deep affection the comments hoped for; it was more like… embarrassment? “Since you’re only here once in a blue moon, let’s go home and talk.” Julian sighed, seemingly compromising. A flicker of triumph crossed Emily’s eyes, and she gave me a provocative look. I shrugged indifferently. Go home then. That house was no longer the one she remembered anyway. Back at the villa, Emily immediately slipped into her role. Ignoring her wet clothes, she headed straight to the kitchen to make supper for the children. “Lucas, Maya, Mommy’s making noodles for you. You used to love Mommy’s homemade noodles.” Lucas and Maya exchanged glances, horror in both their eyes. “I’m not eating! I’m ordering takeout! I want barbecue!” Lucas shouted. “I want barbecue too! Extra spicy!” Maya chimed in. Just as Emily brought out two bowls of bland, clear noodle soup, the delivery driver rang the doorbell. A mountain of lamb skewers, two platters of spicy crawfish, and ice-cold cola. The aroma instantly overpowered the two bowls of noodles. Emily’s hands trembled as she held the bowls. “These… these are junk food. They’re not good for your health.” I picked up a lamb skewer, took a bite, oil glistening on my lips. “Ms. Sterling, the most important thing in life is to be happy.” “Even dogs wouldn’t eat your noodles.” Emily moved into the guest room. But she clearly didn’t see herself as a guest. The very next morning, she began a grand clean-up of the villa. Under the guise of “decluttering” and giving the children a fresh living environment. By the time the kids and I woke up late in the morning, the house had been transformed. Lucas’s limited-edition action figures had been thrown into the trash. Maya’s pop star posters were ripped down and crumpled into a ball. Even the priceless bottle of red wine I kept in the living room had been poured down the drain, replaced with plain boiled water. “Noooo! My action figures! They were global limited editions! You can’t buy them even with money!” Lucas let out a pained shriek. Maya burst into tears. “My bias! My posters! Emily, are you insane?!” Emily, apron-clad, stood in the center of the living room, looking innocent. “Lucas, Maya, those toys take up too much space and look childish. Mommy helped you put them away.” “And those posters, that male celebrity doesn’t look decent. Mommy is doing this for your own good…” The comments section erupted in cheers. “Heroine doing great! She needs to help the kids get rid of those bad habits!” “This is a real mom, worrying herself sick for her children’s future.” “The stepmom only indulges, the real mom disciplines. The kids will realize the heroine’s good intentions eventually.” I leaned against the second-floor railing, watching the chaos unfold downstairs, and couldn’t help but laugh. “Emily, did you forget? This house is in my name now.” “Throwing away my things in my house? Who gave you the audacity?” Emily looked up at me, her eyes red. “Delia, I know you don’t like me, but the children are innocent. You can’t just indulge them in endless fun and games to curry favor.” “I’m trying to save them!” What a noble declaration. Julian Mulvey came downstairs at that moment, and seeing the scene, his brows furrowed. Emily immediately rushed over to complain. “Julian, look how Delia has spoiled the children! They’re losing their ambition, chasing frivolous things. How will they ever inherit the family business?” Julian glanced at the action figures in the trash, which he had gone through a lot of trouble to buy for his son’s birthday. He then looked at his daughter, whose makeup was ruined from crying. Finally, his gaze settled on Emily, who stood with a righteous expression. The comments section went into full alert. “Here it comes! Mr. Mulvey is about to blow up!” “Mr. Mulvey will definitely side with the heroine, it’s for the kids’ good after all.” “The stepmom is in for it now. She’s definitely getting kicked out!” Everyone thought Julian would reprimand me, and even Emily was prepared to be embraced and comforted. However, Julian took a deep breath and slowly spoke: “Emily, I bought that action figure.” “It cost eight hundred thousand dollars.” Emily’s expression froze.

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