Author: Momo Chan

### On the night of our sixth wedding anniversary, my husband, Ethan, was caught by the paparazzi on a private yacht with his first love, Melody. The news instantly went viral on Instagram. The headline read: *”Billionaire Spends Millions on a Romantic Yacht Night to Make His Muse Smile.”* In the photo, Melody wore a dazzling diamond ring, her fingers tightly locked with Ethan’s. Melody reposted the article. I calmly liked her post. But when I refreshed the page, I realized she had already blocked me. A moment later, Ethan called me. His voice was cold. “Stop stalking the people around me, Chloe. You’re scaring Melody. She’s almost in tears.” Through the receiver, I heard Melody’s sweet, dripping voice in the background. “Ethan, baby, the moonlight is so beautiful tonight.” I guess six years of devotion really couldn’t beat the return of “the one that got away.” I had lost completely. And this time, I chose to let go. … The next morning, Ethan came home reeking of alcohol. He shouted toward the upstairs bedroom, “Chloe, get down here and take my shoes.” After we got married, I had essentially become his personal maid. Taking off his coat, untying his shoes—I did it all for him. I walked downstairs, my eyes heavy with sleep. Seeing the dark circles under his eyes, I stood still. I didn’t bend down. He kicked my foot lightly, his face darkening with annoyance. “What are you spacing out for? Hurry up and get my slippers.” “I’m exhausted, Chloe. Can you have some common sense?!” Listening to his usual demanding tone, I couldn’t help but let out a cold laugh. On our anniversary, my husband was trending online for a secret yacht date with his first love. And when he finally came home, instead of explaining, he looked at me with nothing but disgust. Did he really think I would never fight back? Seeing me standing there with a cold expression, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a small jewelry box, and tossed it to me. “Melody bought this for you. She was worried you’d misunderstand us. Consider it her apology gift.” I opened the box. It was a cheap, plastic brooch. I sneered. “Must have been hard for her to dig through a dollar store to find this trash.” Ethan immediately snatched it back, his eyes flashing with anger. “It’s the thought that counts! What do you know? She stayed up late to pick this out for you. Don’t be so ungrateful.” Looking at how carefully he held that cheap piece of plastic, as if it were a priceless treasure, my eyes welled up with tears of bitter laughter. In our social circle, I had a nickname: “Ethan’s loyal doormat.” I chased him for three years. We were married for six. I honestly believed my devotion had earned me his equal love. But the moment Melody came back, everything changed. I was just a clown, wagging my tail, begging for scraps of his attention. No matter when or where, as long as Melody snapped her fingers, Ethan would drop everything and run to her. At this very moment, I felt an overwhelming, bone-deep exhaustion. Seeing my attitude, Ethan snapped. “Chloe, who gave you the right to throw a tantrum at me first thing in the morning?” “Are you deaf or blind? Go make me some hangover tea!” With that, he gave me a rough push. I clutched my lower abdomen, where a dull pain was radiating, and shook my head. “Make it yourself. I’m not feeling well.” Beads of cold sweat began to form on my forehead. He stepped closer, sniffing the air, and pinched his nose in disgust. “Chloe, you’re sweating. You smell.” Ethan was a neat freak and extremely sensitive to odors. He couldn’t stand the smell of sweat on me. He even forced me to wear only the woody perfume he liked. My stomach had been hurting all night, and I had been breaking out in cold sweats. If this were before, I would have rushed upstairs to take a shower immediately. But now? I didn’t care anymore. ###

Ethan handed me his phone. “Melody said she wants to eat at Le Petit Paris tonight. I have a business dinner, so you take her. Consider it returning the favor for the gift.” “Be polite to her. And after dinner, take her to buy a designer bag. It’s called etiquette.” A ten-dollar brooch in exchange for a ten-thousand-dollar bag. What a brilliant calculation. I didn’t reach for the phone. Seeing me ignore him, Ethan dialed Melody’s number himself. Melody answered, her voice sweet and bubbly. “Ethan? Do you miss me already?” Ethan cleared his throat, his eyes fixed on me. “Chloe is taking you out for dinner tonight. Pick out a gift you like, and she’ll pay for it.” Melody paused for a second before squealing, “I knew you were the best, Ethan!” I looked at him coldly. “I told you, I’m not feeling well. I’m not going.” Ethan’s face fell. He grabbed my wrist tightly. “Don’t push your luck, Chloe. You are going tonight, whether you like it or not!” With a burst of anger, he ripped off his coat and threw it directly at my face to vent his frustration. The force of his throw was so strong that I lost my balance. I stumbled and fell hard against the sharp corner of the sofa. My right leg slammed into the wood. Instantly, blood began to gush out. Ethan looked at me as if I were acting. “Seriously? Fine, I’ll get the medical kit.” He rummaged through the drawers for what felt like forever but couldn’t even find a single roll of gauze. He grew even more annoyed. “Chloe, is this how you keep the house? You can’t even keep a damn roll of gauze in the medical kit?” He seemed to have completely forgotten that I had appendicitis surgery just a month ago. The gauze was used up during my recovery. I had explicitly asked him to buy some more when he passed by a pharmacy. Before, I would have argued with him to prove it wasn’t my fault. Now, I didn’t want to waste a single breath. My vision was swimming. I had a severe phobia of blood. Forcing myself to stand, I whispered, “Just… take me to the hospital to get it bandaged.” Ethan muttered an annoyed curse, grabbed his keys, and walked out. I dragged my leg and followed him. But right after we drove out of our neighborhood, Ethan’s phone rang. I glanced at the screen. The caller ID read: *Melody.* The next second, Ethan blocked my view with his hand and declined the call, looking at me guiltily. I turned my face toward the window, completely indifferent. He stared at me, his expression strange. “You’re not going to make a scene?” Why would I? I looked back at him. Did he expect me to scream, snatch his phone, and block her number to assert my dominance like I used to? Right now, my only priority was getting to the hospital. The phone rang again. Ethan frowned, glanced at me, and finally pressed answer. Melody’s crying voice filled the car. She claimed someone was stalking her and she was terrified. Even then, she didn’t forget to play the victim: “Ethan, please explain to Chloe so she doesn’t get mad at you because of me…” Ethan panicked. He glanced at my bleeding leg, then shouted, “Get out of the car!” I didn’t move. He literally got out, walked to my side, opened the door, and dragged me out onto the curb. “If I don’t go, Melody might die!” he yelled, slamming the door. He stepped on the gas and sped away. I sat on the cold pavement, inhaling the exhaust fumes he left behind. My heart was completely shattered. I managed to hail a Uber to the hospital. On the way, the driver looked at me through the rearview mirror with concern. “Are you okay, miss? Your leg is bleeding pretty badly. Are you alone?” The genuine concern from a stranger made my eyes sting with tears. While the nurse was bandaging my leg, I could hear the girls at the nurse’s station gossiping about Ethan and Melody trending on Instagram. Ethan’s family company was a titan in the city, so it wasn’t surprising that he was always in the spotlight. Even though I didn’t want to hear it, their whispers drifted over. “Ethan’s muse is so gorgeous!” “They look perfect together. I heard she’s a world-class pianist.” “Do you think they’ll announce a wedding soon?” As I sat there numbly, the nurse bandaging me shouted toward them, “Keep it down! If the head nurse hears you gossiping, you’ll get your pay docked.” I smiled bitterly. I had attended several charity galas with Ethan after we got married, yet I was so forgettable. Under the bright light of his “first love,” everyone had forgotten he actually had a wife. When I stepped out of the hospital, my phone buzzed with a breaking news notification. Someone had uploaded a video of Ethan physically beating a man. The internet was in an uproar. Melody had indeed been harassed, but Ethan usually cared deeply about his public image; his assistants usually handled these things. This time, he had actually lost his mind and fought the guy himself for her. I remembered during our company’s annual gala earlier this year, someone had accidentally shoved me, causing me to fall flat on the floor in front of everyone. Ethan had been holding Melody’s hand, walking toward us under the spotlight. I called out his name, but he didn’t even look at me. It was only after Melody whispered something to him that he glanced at me with utter disgust, as if remembering I was his wife. “How embarrassing,” he had muttered. Then, he walked away, leaving me to be mocked by the entire room. The next day, he casually bought me a diamond necklace as an apology. At the time, I cherished it like a treasure and was too afraid to even wear it. Only later did I find out it was just a custom piece that Melody had rejected. I limped back to our house and began packing my bags. At the same time, I called my best friend, Ashley. She was a top attorney at a major law firm in the city. “Ashley,” I said, my voice steady. “I want a divorce.” ###

I didn’t have many personal belongings in the villa, so packing didn’t take long. Ashley told me to wait at home while she brought over the divorce papers. During this time, Ethan called me several times, but I declined every single one. When Ashley arrived, I quickly signed the papers, tore up our wedding photos on the coffee table, and got ready to leave. Just then, the front door opened. Ethan walked in, looking exhausted, with a small scrape on his hand. He froze when he saw me holding my suitcase. He threw a plastic bag onto the table. “I bought you some gauze on the way back. See? You can’t even handle such a minor thing.” I looked down at the bag. It contained two rolls of gauze, and one of them had already been opened. “No need. The hospital already took care of it.” He let out a sigh of relief. “Good. I knew it was just a tiny scratch. No big deal.” My breath hitched. My hand clutched the handle of my suitcase tighter. “Right.” He knew perfectly well that I had just undergone surgery not long ago. He knew I had a fear of blood, and that my body hadn’t fully recovered. Usually, I kept quiet because I didn’t want to bother him. But if he had cared even a fraction of an inch, he would have noticed my pain. He just didn’t care. “I was a bit harsh this morning. But Melody is a young girl, she has no one else to rely on here. I was just panicking. You’re not still mad, are you?” I stared at the red swelling on his hand. “Why didn’t you stay with her longer? To soothe her traumatized soul?” He frowned, irritated. “Chloe, do you have to speak to me like that?” “The opened gauze,” I pointed at the table. “You used it on her first, didn’t you?” I tossed the bag back onto the coffee table and turned to leave. He looked slightly embarrassed and tried to explain. “…Yeah, I used a little bit. She scraped her finger. But there’s still plenty left, so I brought the rest back for you.” I nodded, not wanting to hear another word, and reached for my suitcase. Ethan’s face darkened instantly. “I came back to explain to you because I didn’t want you to misunderstand. What is this? Are you playing the childish game of running away from home again?” “Chloe, I give you an inch and you take a mile. As long as I am in this house, you are not walking out that door!” With that, he lunged forward and violently grabbed my suitcase, jerking it back. The sudden, violent force threw me completely off balance. My leg wound, which had barely been bandaged, ripped open. A sharp, burning pain shot through my body. The stitches had torn. I could feel the warm blood soaking through my pants. “Ethan, it hurts… Please, take me to the hospital. My surgical wound opened.” Cold sweat poured down my forehead, and my fingertips turned icy cold. “I barely touched you, and now you’re acting?” Ethan sneered. “Chloe, since when did you become so dramatic? Playing the victim card now?” I forced myself to breathe through the shaking of my body, trying to speak as calmly as possible. “Ethan, you know I had surgery recently. The incision never healed properly. It’s bleeding right now. I need a doctor.” Ethan froze for a second, glancing at my stomach, but then his face twisted into a mocking grin. “How shameless can you be, Chloe? How long ago was that surgery? And you’re still using it as an excuse? If you bleed today, are you going to tell me you need an amputation tomorrow?” He shoved me away with brute force. I fell hard onto the floor, my head slamming violently against the sharp edge of the cabinet. Pain exploded in my skull. Everything went black for a second. “Since you love acting so much, keep acting! Let’s see how long you can keep this up. One of these days, you’re going to push me too far, and we will get a divorce!” I slowly looked up at him through my blurred vision. “If that’s what you want… let’s divorce. I won’t contest anything. Just sign the papers, and we can end this.” He gasped, looking at me in utter disbelief. “Chloe, have you lost your mind?” I looked at him with dead eyes. “Your muse is back. I’m stepping aside to give her her spot. Isn’t that what you want?” Ethan roared in frustration, “How many times do I have to tell you? I only see her as a sister! Why can’t you just believe me?” “When are you going to stop this nonsense?!” I whispered, “For two years, every time she called you in the middle of the night, you looked so terrified of losing her. I’m not blind, Ethan. I saw it all.” “Just like today. I was bleeding, and you threw me out of the car.” “But when Melody cut her finger while cooking, you panicked for three days. You ordered her takeout every single day and begged her never to step into a kitchen again.” “And me? I had major surgery, and you never even asked how I was doing. You even expected me to do all the housework this past week.” “You never stopped to think if I had the strength to do those things, or why my wound wasn’t healing.” I lowered my gaze. “Ethan, we’re done. I’m too tired.” *Crash!* Ethan suddenly kicked my suitcase violently against my feet. “Enough!” He bent down, grabbed my wrist, and hauled me up. “Get up! Stop pretending to be tired. You said you’re bleeding, right? Fine! Let’s go to the hospital. I want to see with my own eyes how long you can keep up this pathetic act!” The violent pulling tore my wound even further. My face turned ghostly pale, and heavy drops of sweat rolled down my temples. I tried to struggle, but the blood loss and the concussion from hitting my head left me completely powerless. I could only gasp for air. I was practically dragged across the floor. Just then, Ashley burst through the front door, holding the divorce files. Seeing the horror before her, she let out a scream, rushed forward, and slammed her body into Ethan, pushing him away. She shielded me in her arms, screaming at him like a wild animal. “Ethan, you psycho! Can’t you see she’s bleeding?! You’re killing her! Does she have to die for you to finally let her go?!” Ethan stood frozen, staring at the trail of blood on the hardwood floor left behind from where he had dragged me. Panic finally flushed into his face. “No… I thought… she was lying… why…” Before darkness consumed my consciousness, I looked at him one last time. He stood there, completely helpless, surrounded by my clothes that had spilled out of the broken suitcase. Ashley grabbed the heavy leather folder containing the divorce papers and threw it directly at his face. “Sign it! You bastard, sign it!” “Chloe didn’t get a single day of rest after her surgery because of you! Her wound got infected multiple times, and I was the one who took her to the clinic while you were playing house with your little ‘sister’!” “And now you drag her like a dog and make her bleed like this? Are you even human, Ethan? If anything happens to Chloe, I will personally make sure you go to jail for murder!” The sharp edge of the folder cut Ethan’s forehead, drawing blood. The papers scattered all over the floor around him. Ethan stood there, his face completely pale, staring at my limp body, unable to make a single sound.

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To save Ethan Vance, I suffered severe third-degree burns over my entire body. I became a monster. But tonight, I heard him complaining to his friends. “Three years! I’ve had to look at that hideous face for three whole years! Even if I owed her my life, three years of this mental torture should be enough to pay it back, right?” “Every time I think of her scarred, bumpy face, I feel nauseous. Why wasn’t it me who got disfigured in that fire instead?” I stood in the shadows, tears streaming down my ruined face as I overheard everything. Right then, a cold, mechanical voice echoed in my head. *“Host, the three-year contract has expired. Do you wish to spend more soul energy to renew the exchange?”* “System, cancel the exchange. I want my skin back.” *“Understood. Canceling the transaction now.”* Today was my fifth anniversary with Ethan. I had been sitting alone at the dining table, waiting for him for over two hours. Ethan had sent a Snapchat earlier saying he was on his way, but then he went completely radio silent. Struggling with the constant physical discomfort of my tight, scarred skin, I wrapped my coat tightly around myself and slowly walked out the door to look for him. As soon as I stepped outside, I spotted Ethan’s figure. Before I could call out his name in excitement, I caught the sound of his voice. He was talking to his friends. Judging by their backs, they were Carter Hayes and Lucas Hunt. They were standing a bit far away, so I couldn’t hear everything clearly at first. I could only see their grim expressions. I thought something had gone wrong at Ethan’s company. But as I crept closer, the harsh reality hit me. They were talking about me. “Ethan, bro, we can’t keep Chloe waiting forever,” Carter said. Chloe? Who was Chloe? “Don’t worry,” Ethan sighed, rubbing his temples. “I’ll give her the explanation she deserves. This year. Definitely.” Carter finally flashed a grin. “Finally! I knew you’d come to your senses, Ethan. Why keep torturing yourself like this?” Ethan didn’t deny it. Carter looked immensely relieved. “Bro, we’ve watched you go from a nobody with nothing to your name to a powerful CEO. We know how hard you’ve worked,” Carter continued. “Sure, Summer stayed by your side for years, but she’s disfigured now. She’s a monster. She doesn’t belong in your world anymore!” Hearing this, my heart barely even fluttered. His friends had always looked down on me. Even when I was perfectly healthy, they had plenty of issues with me. It was no surprise they felt this way now that I was covered in horrific burn scars. But they were just his friends. Ethan was the only one whose opinion mattered to me. I foolishly thought he would defend me. But he shattered that hope instantly. Ethan lit a cigarette, taking a long drag. “It’s been three years. I’ve stared at that hideous face of hers for three long years. I’ve taken care of her, played the doting husband… I’ve more than repaid my debt to her for saving me, haven’t I?” He blew out a thick cloud of grey smoke. I stared at him from the darkness, unable to believe my own ears. I wished I had misheard him. Then, Carter spoke up again. “Exactly, Ethan! We all support you. You’ve done more than enough. You shouldn’t have to live in this self-inflicted prison.” Seeing his friends validate him, Ethan began to pour out his hidden disgust. “You guys have no idea. She doesn’t go to the hospital anymore, but whenever the weather gets hot, her bumpy, raw skin starts oozing this disgusting fluid. It makes me sick to my stomach!” “I look at that face every single night, and I wake up screaming from nightmares. It feels like I’m sleeping next to a corpse. It’s killing me!” Even Lucas, who usually stayed quiet, showed a look of pure disgust. “Man, I can’t believe you’ve endured this for so long. Just thinking about how you have to pretend to love her and kiss her makes my skin crawl.” Ethan shook his head with a bitter sigh, acting as if he were the biggest victim in the world. “Don’t even get me started. Looking back at these three years of torture, I’d rather have been the one trapped in that fire. Honestly, I don’t even know why she rushed in. If she hadn’t interfered, the firefighters probably would have rescued me anyway. Why did I have to suffer this curse?” “I swear, she just wants to cling to me like a parasite for the rest of her life!” I never, in my wildest dreams, expected Ethan to hold so much resentment toward me. I let out a silent, bitter laugh. My sacrifice, my willing plunge into a burning hell to save his life, had only earned me his deepest disgust. Three years ago, Ethan had left the stove running while he was distracted by a business call, causing a massive gas explosion in our kitchen. The fire spread with terrifying speed, trapping him inside. Our house was in a secluded suburb, and the fire department couldn’t make it in time. Seeing Ethan trapped in the blazing inferno, I was driven mad with panic. Without a second thought, I dove straight into the flames. But I was too late. A heavy cabinet had collapsed on him, and his body was already severely burned. I managed to drag him out and put out the flames eating his skin, but his body was completely ruined. Even with the best plastic surgery, he would have been a scarred monster forever. I knew how incredibly proud Ethan was. He was at the peak of his career. If he woke up to see himself disfigured, it would have broken him. He wouldn’t have survived the blow. He needed a perfect, healthy body to succeed. I vividly remember staring at the System interface three years ago. “System, transfer my healthy skin to Ethan. Take his burns and put them on me.” *“Warning, Host. Once this contract is finalized, there is no going back.”* “If he wakes up like this, he’ll go insane. He needs a perfect face. I’ll bear his pain.” …

Under my stubborn demands, I used up almost all my accumulated system energy to complete the trade. Ethan, of course, had no idea. He believed the lie that I was the one who got trapped in the fire while trying to save him. In reality, my ruined, oozing body was just bearing the consequences of his own mistake. I remained hidden in the shadows, listening to them. Ethan’s voice drifted over again. “Three years of pretending to be okay while sharing a bed with her. It’s been pure psychological torture. Now, just looking at her makes me want to throw up!” “Man, forget about her,” Carter said, slapping Ethan’s shoulder. “Let’s hit the club tonight. We’ll help you loosen up.” Ethan shook his head. “No, today is our fifth anniversary. I should go home and get it over with. Consider it my final act of charity before the end.” They chatted a bit longer, but I couldn’t listen anymore. My head spun, and my body felt like it was being pierced by a thousand hot needles. I don’t even remember how I made it back to the dining table. A long time later, Ethan finally walked through the door. He casually tossed a small gift box onto the table. Without even looking at me, he pulled out his phone and started eating. In the past, I would have complained. He was always so busy with work, and we barely spent any time together. I used to feel sorry for him, so I always begged him to put his phone away during dinner. Only now did I realize it wasn’t because he was busy. He just didn’t want to look at my face. “Who is Chloe?” I asked quietly. Ethan snapped his head up. His eyes flashed with irritation, bordering on anger. When his eyes landed on my scarred face, a look of pure disgust slipped through before he could hide it. “Why are you asking about her?” “Just curious. Is she… important to you?” He stared at me, silent for a few seconds. Then, he quickly masked his expression, offering me a perfect, practiced smile. “Of course not, honey. You’re the only one who matters to me.” “By the way, a major client just landed. I have to head back to the office right now…” “But… today is our fifth anniversary.” I was still desperately clinging to the tiny, naive hope that we could at least finish this final dinner together in peace. A proper goodbye to our five years. But Ethan’s eyes were filled with nothing but impatience. He could barely hide his annoyance. Still, he suppressed it. He leaned in, gave me a quick, shallow hug, and immediately pulled away. “I already gave you your gift, didn’t I? Be good, babe. I’ll make it up to you when I get back.” With that, he practically ran out the door. Through the window, I watched him walk to his car. The moment he thought he was out of sight, he began frantically wiping down his clothes, as if he had just touched something toxic. He even spat on the ground several times in disgust. I stared into the empty street and whispered, “System, can I take my skin back now?” *“Host, your current energy level is too low. A random quest has been unlocked. Please proceed to Club Nocturne to gather energy.”* Hearing the system’s voice after so long made me freeze, but I quickly pulled myself together. Even with my body and face wrapped tightly in a thick scarf, it took every ounce of my courage to step out of the house. At the club entrance, the bouncer gave me a weird, suspicious look, which made my chest tighten with anxiety. But at least they let me in. Inside, the lights were dim, the music was loud, and the darkness hid my scars. I finally let out a sigh of relief. I tried to find a quiet corner to hide in, but someone suddenly crashed right into me. “Are you fucking blind? Watch where you’re going!” a loud, arrogant voice barked. “You almost spilled my drink! Apologize right now!” I quickly began to apologize, but the young man refused to let it go. “A girl? Why the hell are you wrapped up like a mummy? What, are you some supermodel hiding from paparazzi, or just an ugly troll?” Before I could react, his hand shot out and violently ripped the scarf off my head, exposing my severely burned, scarred face to the crowd. I screamed, frantically covering my face with my hands, but it was too late. “Holy shit! What the fuck is that monster?!” The guy jumped back in disgust, wiping his hands on his pants as if I were contagious, and walked away swearing. I kept my face covered, trying to push through the crowd to escape, crying out that I wasn’t a monster. Suddenly, a strong hand gripped my wrist. I panicked, struggling to pull away. But a familiar voice sounded in my ear. “What the hell are you doing here?” I looked up. It was Ethan. Tears flooded my eyes. Out of sheer habit, I tried to lean into his chest for comfort, but the memory of his conversation earlier flashed through my mind, stopping me cold. His voice didn’t hold a single drop of concern. It was pure, icy interrogation. I forced myself to calm down. “I was lonely. I just wanted to get some air.” Just then, Carter appeared from the VIP section, holding a glass of champagne. He looked at me with absolute contempt. “Summer, do you have any self-awareness at all? Do you know what kind of place this is? This is an elite club! Do you think a hideous freak like you belongs here?” “Ethan has been nice enough not to dump you, but can’t you have some decency and think about his reputation? Do you have to come out here and embarrass him like this?!” Carter’s words were incredibly sharp, showing no respect for me whatsoever. “Whether I can be here isn’t up to you,” I spat back coldly. “If a dog like you can get in, why can’t I?” Carter had a notorious temper. Hearing my insult, he raised his hand to strike me, but Lucas quickly stepped in and held him back. Lucas patted Carter’s shoulder, then turned to me with a sigh. “Summer, things are different now. Coming here only makes people look at you like a freak. You’re the one getting humiliated. Carter’s words might be harsh, but he’s right.” Carter immediately chimed in. “Seriously! You smell like rot. Even my expensive cologne can’t block out the stench coming off you. Jesus!” “Ethan, you owe me a new jacket!” I heard Ethan chuckle warmly in response, agreeing to his friend’s demand. I turned my cold gaze to Ethan. “Are you really just going to stand there and let them treat me like this?”

A flash of irritation crossed Ethan’s face. “They’re just speaking the truth, Summer. Why are you being so sensitive? Just go home. Having you here really is an embarrassment.” I glanced at the system’s progress bar in my mind. I still needed one more hour to fully gather the required energy. I couldn’t leave yet. I smirked slightly and said firmly, “I’m not going home. And I don’t need your permission to stay.” Seeing how stubborn I was, they grew frustrated. I watched Carter lean close to Ethan, whispering, “Ethan, Chloe is about to arrive. We need to get rid of her.” Ethan’s face instantly darkened, and he snapped at me. “Summer! Go home! I won’t tell you again.” “No.” Ethan stared at me like a venomous snake. Suddenly, he let out a cold, cruel laugh. “Fine. Since you want to stay so badly, make sure you don’t run away…” He gave a quick nod to a few of his rich friends standing nearby. The group of guys immediately surrounded me, blocking my path. I had nowhere to run. Fear started to creep in, but I forced myself to stand my ground. I had to finish the quest. Suddenly, with a sharp *rip*, someone grabbed the collar of my coat and tore it down, exposing the thick, red burn scars covering my neck and shoulders. Another hand pushed me hard from behind. I stumbled and fell onto a nearby lounge sofa. The next second, several guys grabbed the sofa and lifted it up, carrying me toward the center stage. The club’s bright strobe lights suddenly focused entirely on me. I tried desperately to hide my face, but it was useless. They dumped me onto the center of the stage. Without my coat and scarf, my raw, scarred body was completely exposed under the blinding white spotlights. The DJ, catching on to the cruel joke, changed the track to a distorted, mocking song with the word “Monster” repeating on loop over a heavy bassline. The crowd erupted into whispers and loud jeers. Words like “ugly,” “freak,” and “alien” pelted me from all directions. I screamed in terror, trying to crawl off the stage, but the surrounding crowd blocked me, mocking my every move. Through my tear-blurred vision, I saw Ethan standing in the VIP lounge. He was smiling warmly, even clapping along with the crowd. My heart turned to ash. I tried to stand up and run, but someone deliberately tripped me. I fell face-first onto the hard floor. Carter walked up to the edge of the stage, looking down at me with a malicious smirk. “Aw, look at our big beauty, Summer! Why are you looking so pathetic tonight? Guys, aren’t we being a little too mean to her?” The crowd burst into another wave of laughter. Carter sneered, “Are you having fun yet?” I gritted my teeth, glare piercing through my tears. “You’re all monsters.” The sheer panic and stress had caused my body to break into a cold sweat. The moment the sweat touched my raw, unhealed skin, a wave of agony washed over me. I curled into a ball on the stage, completely paralyzed by the pain. Under the intense heat of the club lights, my fragile skin began to ooze yellowish fluid. The music suddenly cut off. Ethan slowly walked onto the stage. Bathed in the bright spotlight, he looked like a savior, making me lose my grip on reality for a split second. It felt just like the day we first met. Years ago, when I had tripped and fallen in the street, he had run through the crowd to pick me up, the warm sunlight framing his handsome face just like these lights did now. I instinctively reached my hand out to him. But Ethan took several steps back, pinching his nose, his face twisted in absolute disgust. He suddenly burst into a loud, mocking laugh. “Summer, did you seriously just wet yourself on stage? Or are you literally rotting? The bathroom is right over there, you know.” His voice echoed through the club’s sound system. Every single eye in the room locked onto me, filled with mockery and disgust. Carter roared with laughter. “Damn, Summer! You’re not just ugly, you have zero manners! Pooping yourself in public? That’s low!” “Ugh! That is so gross!” Ethan looked down at me, his voice dripping with icy contempt. “This is your own fault, Summer! If you’re a freak, you should have stayed locked up at home. Why did you have to come out and ruin everyone’s night? You disgust me!” I struggled to my feet, shaking violently from the physical pain, but I forced myself to stand straight. I stared into his eyes and let out a soft laugh. “Ethan Vance… Three years. You really should have been an actor.” Ethan laughed maniacally, completely shedding his gentle-husband persona. “Summer, do you have any idea how miserable I’ve been?! Every single second I spent looking at you made me want to die! It was pure torture!” “Why didn’t you just die in that fire? It would have been better for both of us!” His eyes turned cold, devoid of any past affection. “I’ve paid back everything I owe you. Let’s get a divorce.” Just then, a beautiful young girl in a tight designer dress walked onto the stage. She wrapped her arms tightly around Ethan’s arm, looking down at me with supreme arrogance. “So ugly,” she sneered. “I get that you’re bitter, but you can’t blame Ethan. Anyone would be disgusted looking at a face like yours. Why keep dragging him down?” Looking at her, I immediately realized who she was. This was Chloe Parker. They stood together, looking like a perfect couple. But then, I noticed something. I let out a loud laugh. “Wow, Ethan. Your taste really never changes, does it? You couldn’t wait to replace me, so you found a cheap knock-off who dresses exactly like I did three years ago.” And it was true. Chloe was styled exactly the way I used to dress before the fire. Chloe’s face flushed with rage. She grabbed the microphone from the stand next to her and violently threw it at me. “Shut up, you bitch! You’re just a jealous freak! You’re going to be ugly and alone for the rest of your life!” I easily dodged the microphone, keeping the mocking smirk on my face. Right then, the system’s voice echoed in my head. *“Ding! Quest complete. Energy fully gathered.”* Finally. I could leave this hellhole. I didn’t try to cover myself up this time. I held my head high and began to walk off the stage. The crowd quickly parted to make way for me, their faces filled with various expressions of disgust and shock, but I didn’t care anymore. Just as I reached the exit, a sharp voice called out from behind me. “Summer!” I didn’t stop. My mind was completely exhausted. But Chloe ran up, blocking my path. She wanted to savor my defeat. She leaned in close, whispering viciously, “I hear Ethan is leaving you with nothing. Consider this my parting gift to you…” She smiled nastily. “I hope you stay a monster forever, hiding in the dark like the rat you are!” I clenched my fists. The physical strain caused some of the blisters on my arms to pop, weeping fluid onto the floor. Behind her, Ethan yelled out to the crowd, “Look! She’s leaking again! Disgusting!” I bit my lip to keep from kicking him right in the face. *“Host, energy levels are optimal. Do you wish to cancel the skin-exchange contract and reclaim your skin?”* I turned back, locking eyes with Ethan, and gave him a chilling, serene smile. **Ethan, peeing yourself in public is so low class!**

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When my coworker, Mia, asked me to make her lunch again, I refused. I looked her dead in the eye and said, “I’m busy lately. Ask someone else.” In my past life, I was too nice. I cooked for her every single day. But after a few months, her husband rushed into our office, causing a massive scene. He claimed I had killed his unborn son. And Mia stood right beside him, sobbing. “It’s all your fault! You put chili flakes in my lunch today!” “Spicy food kills the male hormones! You destroyed my baby boy! You murderer!” I tried to explain myself, but Mia wouldn’t listen. Her husband demanded a hundred thousand dollars in cash, threatening to ruin my life if I didn’t pay. The drama got me fired from the company. To make things worse, Mia dragged me on Snapchat and Twitter, posting lies about how I killed her baby. The internet went wild. Keyboard warriors doxed me and harassed me day and night. Every time I managed to find a new job, Mia and her husband would show up and make a scene. In the end, the relentless harassment drove me into a deep depression. I jumped from the roof of my apartment building. Only after my death did I learn the sickening truth. Mia had found out through an illegal gender scan that she was carrying a girl. She was terrified her misogynistic husband would divorce her. So, she framed me. She blamed me for “destroying” her boy. By doing this, she could extort a massive chunk of money from me and get me kicked out of the company, leaving her path clear for a promotion and a raise. But now, I am reborn. This time, Mia, you can eat dirt for all I care. I can’t wait to see how your “precious son” turns out.

“Come on, Chloe, don’t be so petty!” “It’s just a lunch. Why do you keep making excuses to say no?” “Besides, it’s not like I’m asking for free. I pay you five dollars every single time. Not a penny less.” Mia tossed her plastic Tupperware onto my desk, her voice dripping with irritation. Looking at her smug face, I almost laughed out loud. This was exactly how it started in my past life. Every day at noon, Mia would shove her lunchbox in my face. One day she wanted steak, the next day she wanted salmon, and the day after that she’d complain the veggies weren’t organic. Back then, I thought we were friends. I would wake up at 5:00 AM, go to the premium market to buy the freshest ingredients, and spend my entire morning cooking. I never asked her for a dime. Occasionally, she would throw a five-dollar bill on my desk and say, “Here, Chloe, five bucks. That’s more than enough for the groceries. Consider it me supporting your little hobby.” I thought she was struggling financially, so I never complained. Only later did I find out that she saved her lunch money to buy expensive cigars and whiskey for her husband. She even bragged to her mother-in-law: “That idiot at my office cooks for me every day. I get gourmet meals for basically free.” I didn’t even look up from my computer. “Then pay someone else to do it. I don’t need your five dollars.” Mia froze. Her eyes welled up with tears in an instant. “Chloe… what is wrong with you today? Did I say something to upset you?” “If you didn’t want to do it, you could have just told me. It’s not like I’m forcing you…” “I only asked because I know how clean your kitchen is. I’m just terrified of getting food poisoning from takeout. It’s bad for the baby…” Mia lowered her head, gently cradling her slightly bumped belly, looking like a fragile victim I had just publicly bullied. “You know I’m pregnant. Fast food is so greasy, and a decent healthy meal costs like thirty bucks around here. My salary is low, Chloe. I can’t afford to order door-to-door delivery every day.” “I just wanted something homemade and safe for my baby. And I always paid you the market rate!” Mia sniffled, looking at me with a deeply hurt expression. “You were always so happy to help me before. I thought of you as my best friend.” “It’s just a simple lunch. Why are you being so hostile?” “Is it… is it because of the money? Do you want more?” As soon as Mia finished her little speech, Sarah, a senior colleague sitting nearby, quickly handed her a tissue. She patted Mia’s shoulder and glared at me. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Chloe! Look how upset you made her. She’s pregnant, in case you forgot. It’s just making an extra portion of lunch. Is this really necessary?” “You’ve been doing it fine all this time. Why the sudden attitude? Refusing to help a pregnant coworker over such a small thing… what is wrong with you?” Mia wiped the corner of her eyes, sobbing softly. “It’s fine, Sarah. I’ll just go buy something. I don’t want to be a burden…” Several people in the open office turned to look at us. Someone whispered, “It’s just lunch. Why is she being so mean to a pregnant woman?” Sarah rolled her eyes. “Come on, Chloe, just help her out.” “Why don’t you do it then, Sarah?” I snapped back. Sarah choked on her words. “I… I don’t have the time!” “You eat lunch every day, don’t you? Just make an extra box. Since it’s ‘just a small thing,’ it shouldn’t be a problem for you.” Sarah shut her mouth instantly, looking away. Mia’s voice trembled. “But Chloe, you’ve always done it…” “Yeah, I did it for six months. Steak, salmon, organic greens. And you gave me five dollars. Do the math, Mia. What does five dollars buy in this city?” “Five dollars can’t even buy you a coffee, let alone my labor. If Sarah or Justin wants to take your five-dollar budget, be my guest. I won’t stop them.” Mia stood frozen, unable to utter a single word. Sarah and Justin immediately glued their eyes to their computer screens, pretending they hadn’t heard a thing. At 2:00 PM, while I was deep in my spreadsheet, the glass doors of our office were violently kicked open. Dylan, Mia’s husband, stormed in. His roaring voice echoed across the entire floor. “Chloe! Who the hell gave you permission to feed my wife spicy food? You killed my son! Do you hear me? You killed him!” Mia followed closely behind him, her eyes swollen and red from crying. “Honey… I told her not to put anything spicy in it… but she still bought it for me…” “As soon as I took a bite, my stomach started hurting so bad… Our son… is our son going to be okay…?” Dylan wrapped his arm around her, pointing a thick finger at my face. His skin was flushed a disgusting shade of purple. “You explain to me right now! My wife is five months pregnant. She hasn’t touched a single drop of spice! Why did you feed her chili?” “Our family superstition says spicy food destroys the male energy and ruins the boy baby! If my son turns into a girl or miscarries, you are going to pay for it!” I stared at Mia, my expression entirely calm. “You claim I poisoned your baby with spicy food? Great. Let’s go to the police station right now and let them investigate.”

Hearing the word “police,” Mia’s tears flowed even faster. Her voice shook with faux terror. “Chloe… how can you say that? Why would I make jokes about my own child? This is my baby, I’ve been carrying him for five months!” She clutched her stomach and took two steps back. “I’ve been praying for this boy every single day. I didn’t dare touch anything spicy. Do you know how hard these five months have been for me?” “I don’t even eat raw onions because I’m scared they’re too sharp!” “But you… you went out of your way to buy me food with chili in it! You are trying to destroy my boy!” Dylan held her tight, screaming at me. “You still have the audacity to deny it? Let me tell you something, when my mother was pregnant with me, she didn’t touch a single pepper! She didn’t even use soy sauce!” “Our family rule is strict: no spice if you want a boy. Spicy food ruins the boy! My wife worked so hard for five months, and you ruined everything!” He raised his voice, making sure the entire office could hear. “Back in my hometown, everyone knows this! Every family protects their baby boy with everything they have. Only a wicked, bitter person like you would feed a pregnant woman chili!” Sarah chimed in, her tone dripping with self-righteousness. “Chloe, this is really too much. Pregnant women have strict dietary rules. Even if you don’t believe in her family’s tradition, you should at least respect it. Giving her spicy food on purpose… that’s just malicious.” “Exactly. Mia is pregnant, it’s already so hard on her. She’s wanted a boy for so long…” “Look how hard Mia is crying. And Chloe is just standing there like nothing happened…” “This is sick. She literally ruined their baby boy and she doesn’t even care…” The whispers around the room grew louder, people gossiping and throwing dirty looks at me. Mia buried her face in Dylan’s chest, her shoulders shaking violently as she wept. “My boy… my baby boy is gone… how could you be so cruel…” I ignored the drama and looked straight at Mia. “Mia, you said I fed you spicy food and ruined your baby today. But I didn’t make or buy you any lunch today. How exactly did I do that?” Mia paused. The tears were still fresh on her cheeks, but her voice caught in her throat. “Chloe… I can’t believe that even now, you’re still trying to lie.” “Are you really going to deny it just to save your own skin?” Mia sniffled. “You want to play dumb? Fine. Let me ask you this. Around noon, didn’t you say you were going to the restroom?” “But instead, you pulled me aside in the hallway and apologized for being rude earlier.” “You said you bought me a little snack to make it up to me. Did you forget that?” The onlookers whispered instantly. “Oh my god, she actually admitted it to Mia and now she’s lying…” “Poor Mia. Her baby boy is ruined, and she’s still being gaslighted like this…” I stared at her. “I never said that. And I certainly didn’t buy you anything.” Mia immediately pulled out her phone. A few seconds later, she shoved her screen right in front of my face, her voice cracking. “Then how do you explain this digital receipt? You gave me this snack box at noon!” “It has your store membership number on it! Your phone number is right there! You handed it to me and told me not to be mad anymore!” Mia raised her phone high, showing it to the entire room. “Look, everyone! She bought it using her own rewards account! The evidence is right here!” “And she still claims she’s innocent? I’m a pregnant woman! Why would I risk my own baby’s health just to frame her?” Sarah leaned in to look. “Oh, that really is Chloe’s phone number and membership ID…” “Chloe, what do you have to say for yourself now?” Mia’s tears fell again. “Chloe… I really didn’t want to make a big deal out of this…” “You harmed my baby, and I wasn’t even going to sue you. But now you’re claiming I’m lying and making things up… How can you be so heartless?” I looked at the receipt on her screen. Yes, it was indeed my membership account and my phone number. But I had lost that physical rewards card last month, and I hadn’t gotten around to replacing it yet. I looked up at her calmly. “Mia, I lost that card last month. I haven’t used it since.” “You found a lost card, bought something with it, and now you’re claiming I was the one who bought it?” “Tell me, Mia. How are you going to prove that I was the one who actually swiped that card at the store?”

“That is enough.” Marcus, the department director, stood at the door of the conference room. His face was dark. Clearly, he had been listening for a while. He threw a cold glare at me, his voice heavy with authority. “Chloe, haven’t you caused enough trouble? The evidence is right in front of your face, and you’re still denying it. Do you think everyone in this office is stupid?” Sarah was the first to jump to his side, her voice screeching. “Marcus! Thank goodness you’re here. You have to see what she’s done!” “Everyone knows pregnant women shouldn’t eat spicy food if they are trying to protect a male pregnancy!” “Mia talks about wanting a baby boy every single day. She hasn’t touched a pepper in months. But Chloe here decided to slip chili into her snack anyway! She ruined Mia’s baby, and now she’s standing here arguing!” Justin nodded along. “Mia is always so sweet to everyone. She works overtime even while pregnant and never bothers anyone.” “She told us so many times she couldn’t eat spicy food. Chloe doing this on purpose is just pure evil.” “Exactly. Look at Mia, she’s devastated. Her dream of having a son is ruined, while Chloe just stands there like a sociopath,” someone added from the back. “Why is she still employed here? Today she poisons a baby, tomorrow she might poison our coffee!” “Fire her already. She gives me the creeps.” “Marcus, you have to stand up for Mia. We can’t let good people get bullied like this.” The accusations flew like stones, one after another. Every single one of them pretended to care about Mia, but I could see the malicious excitement in their eyes. They just loved the drama. Marcus raised his hand, silencing the room. His voice was low but firm. “Chloe, save your breath. The company has made its decision. You are suspended immediately. Once Mia’s family figures out the medical details, we will proceed with the termination and legal liabilities.” I sat at my desk, looking at their triumphant faces. In my past life, before I jumped off that building, it was the exact same scene. They surrounded me, screaming insults. Marcus condemned me without a second thought. And Mia smirked while hiding in Dylan’s arms. Back then, I cried, I begged, I screamed my innocence. But nobody listened. Now, Mia was sobbing hysterically. “Marcus… I didn’t want her to get fired… I just wanted an apology… My boy is gone, he’s going to be a girl now… How am I going to face my husband’s family…?” Dylan glared at Marcus. “Marcus, we’ve been trying to conceive for five years. This is our only baby, and my entire family is waiting for a grandson.” “My wife didn’t touch a speck of pepper for five months, and this bitch ruined my son in one afternoon.” “We don’t want to cause trouble for the company, but she has to pay. We want compensation. Otherwise, this isn’t over!” Sarah immediately chimed in. “He’s right! They tried for five years! You ruined their son, Chloe. You have to pay up!” “A boy and a girl are completely different! Their family wanted a heir!” Justin agreed, his tone matter-of-fact. “Yeah, Chloe. You ruined their family’s hope. You have to give them a settlement. It’s better than going to jail, right?” “Just pay them and get it over with.” “A five-month-old boy turned into a girl because of you… Who could accept that?” “Give them the money, Chloe. Don’t make it worse. If her husband keeps coming to the office to protest, you’ll never find a job in this city again.” Ashley, the receptionist, took a slow sip of her tea and muttered, “Chloe, if I were you, I’d just pay. Don’t make a fool of yourself.” “They struggled for years. You ruined their dreams. You think a few hundred bucks will fix this? You should pay at least thirty or forty thousand dollars.” Hearing this, Dylan instantly barked, “Forty thousand? You think my son is only worth forty thousand? We want a hundred thousand dollars! Minimum! Or I will destroy her life!” The crowd murmured in agreement. “Yeah, a hundred thousand is fair for a son.” “Just transfer the money, Chloe. Don’t let this go to court.” “You’re a young girl. You still want to get married one day, don’t you? If this gets out, your reputation will be completely ruined.”

I suddenly burst out laughing. I looked directly at Sarah. “You’re right, Sarah. A girl’s reputation is very important.” “So you better remember this: if someone throws dirt on you in the future without a single shred of actual proof, and demands a hundred thousand dollars while trying to get you fired, don’t you dare complain. Just shut up and hand over your bank account. After all, as long as they cry louder than you, they must be the victim, right?” Marcus’s face turned pitch black. He turned to Ashley. “Go get HR. Right now.” Ashley nodded quickly and ran out of the room. The office fell into a tense silence, save for Mia’s soft whimpering. Dylan was still patting her back, whispering, “It’s okay, baby. The boss is on our side now.” A few minutes later, Brooke from HR walked in. She held a black folder. She looked at Marcus, then at me, her face expressionless. “Chloe, in light of the severe incident that occurred today, which has seriously damaged the company’s reputation and work environment, the management has decided to terminate your contract.” “This is your termination agreement. Review it. If you have no questions, sign it and pack your things.” She slid the folder onto my desk. The bold letters TERMINATION OF EMPLOYMENT stared back at me. Mia slowly raised her head from Dylan’s chest. Tears were still on her face, but the corner of her mouth twitched upward. It was a smirk of victory. She thought she had won. I picked up the folder, flipped through the pages, closed it, and set it down. “Hold on.” Everyone blinked in confusion. The smirk on Mia’s face froze. I looked at Brooke, then at Marcus. My voice was deadly quiet. “I’ll sign it. But before I do, I want Mia to answer a few simple questions in front of everyone.” Mia’s face paled slightly. “She claimed that during lunch hour, I met her in the hallway, gave her a snack, and she took a bite and realized it had chili in it.” “Fine. Mia, tell me: What exactly did I give you? Where did I give it to you? What time was it? What did the packaging look like?” “From the moment I walked into this building today, did anyone see me pull you aside?” I laid out the questions rapidly. The room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Mia’s lips trembled. Dylan opened his mouth to bark, but I cut him off. “Shut up. Let Mia speak.” “If she can’t answer these basic questions, nobody is making me sign this paper today.” Mia’s face flushed from pale to an ugly gray. Her fingers clutched Dylan’s shirt, trembling. Under the collective gaze of the entire office, Mia stammered. “I… I don’t remember clearly… It was… was it a pastry? Or… or… some kind of snack… You just handed it to me, you didn’t say what it was…” Her voice got smaller and smaller. “Maybe… maybe it was near the stairwell? Or the restroom…? My stomach was hurting so bad… I can’t remember the details…” Dylan nudged her arm hard, visibly panicking. She quickly added, “But it was definitely you! I… I ate it and felt the spice… Why would I lie about that…?” Looking at her pathetic attempt to fabricate a story, I cut her off. “Since you can’t seem to remember, let me help refresh your memory.” I unlocked my phone and tapped a play button. As the audio started playing, the entire room gasped in shock.

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On the day of our family island vacation, my sister, Chloe, climbed over the safety railing just to take a photo. She slipped. In her panic, she dragged me into the ocean with her. The rescue guard was about to save me first since I was closer to the shore. But Mom suddenly pulled a faded, yellowed piece of paper from her wallet and threw it toward me. “Mya, let Chloe get on the rescue boat first!” “This is our last wish!” When I was seven, I didn’t have money to buy birthday gifts for my parents. So, I hand-drew a hundred “Wish Coupons.” Each one said: [With this coupon, Mya will unconditionally grant Mom and Dad one wish.] When Chloe wanted my bedroom, they used one. When Chloe wanted to be an only child, they used another. From then on, I was only allowed to call them Mr. and Mrs. Miller, never Mom and Dad. Even the college tuition I saved from working part-time for three years was taken by them. They used the ninety-ninth coupon to pay for Chloe’s intensive dance academy. Now, this was the last one. I looked at the floating coupon on the water and suddenly stopped struggling. I slipped the only rescue rope onto Chloe and pushed her toward the rescue boat myself. Mom and Dad were too busy wrapping her in blankets and checking her for scratches. No one noticed that my leg had already cramped up. I couldn’t even hold onto the floating board anymore. As the rescue boat sped toward the pier, Mom only had time to look back and yell: “Mya, hang in there! We’ll be right back!” I watched their retreating figures and let out a self-deprecating laugh. When I was seven, I thought that if I fulfilled all one hundred wishes, my parents would love me just as much as they loved Chloe. It wasn’t until the freezing seawater filled my lungs that I finally understood. Those one hundred coupons didn’t buy me a single shred of their love. They just used up my entire life. ……

I didn’t know how much time had passed. Finally, the sound of an engine came from the distance. The rescue boat was actually coming back. My nose burned, and my numb arms suddenly found a surge of strength. “Mom! I’m here!” The figure on the boat became clearer. Mom was holding a clean, dry blanket in her arms. Looking at that blanket, I couldn’t help but smile. So, they hadn’t forgotten about me. I even told myself that once I got on the boat, I wouldn’t ask why they saved Chloe first. As long as Mom wrapped that blanket around me and gave me a hug. I would pretend nothing had ever happened. But halfway there, the rescue boat suddenly turned. Not far away, on a floating platform that had drifted from the broken pier, came a weak whimpering. It was Waffles. Waffles was Chloe’s dog. His leash was tangled in the broken railing. The platform could flip over at any second. Chloe immediately stood up on the boat, crying as she grabbed the rescue guard’s arm. “Save Waffles first! He can’t swim!” “He’s been terrified of water since he was a puppy! He’ll die if he falls in!” The guard frowned and pointed toward me. “There’s still a person over there.” “The girl who fell in with you earlier, isn’t she your sister?” Chloe froze for a second. Then, she shook her head. “She’s not my sister.” “She’s just our housekeeper.” Across the crashing waves, I stared at Mom and Dad. I waited for them to deny it. Even if they just said, *She is our daughter.* But Mom avoided my eyes. Dad just urged impatiently, “Mya knows how to swim. She has a floating board. She won’t die anytime soon.” The guard still hesitated. “Is she really not your daughter?” This time, Mom finally spoke. “No.” “She’s been with us for many years. She just helps around the house.” “Save the dog first. You can come back for her later.” Those casual words drifted through the wind and pierced my ears. I suddenly remembered when Chloe was twelve. She said her friends all envied only children. She wanted to be the only child, too. So, my parents used a Wish Coupon. From that day on, I was banned from calling them Mom and Dad. The first time I forgot and made a mistake, Mom’s face went cold. “We promised to grant Chloe’s wish,” she warned. “Who are you calling Mom?” Later, I learned to call them Thomas and Eleanor. Even when I was burning with a high fever and barely conscious, I never dared to call her Mom again. The coupon was only supposed to be valid for one year. But after that year passed, no one ever told me I could call them Mom and Dad again. Gradually, Chloe really became the only daughter in the family. And I became the one who washed clothes, cooked, and cleaned the rooms—someone who didn’t even deserve to call them parents. I never thought that years later, they would actually tell a stranger that I was just the housekeeper. The rescue boat veered right in front of me, heading toward the platform where Waffles was trapped. Survival instinct made me wave my arms frantically, trying to get them to see me. But a massive wave crashed down, burying me under the water again. By the time I struggled back to the surface, Dad had already pulled the dog onto the boat. Mom immediately opened the blanket in her arms, carefully wrapping it around Waffles’ wet body. The blanket I thought was meant for me was ultimately used to warm Chloe’s dog.

Chloe held her dog, shaking and crying. Mom and Dad comforted her on both sides. “Don’t worry, Waffles is fine.” “Mom saved both of you.” Chloe finally smiled through her tears. No one looked back at me. The guard wanted to steer back toward me, but a sudden gale warning blared over the radio. To keep the rescue boat from capsizing, he had to take the passengers and the dog back to the pier first. The sound of the engine faded away. My bleeding, cut hands could no longer hold onto anything. As the saltwater covered my chin, I stopped crying out. They say before you die, you see the happiest moments of your life. Images indeed began to flash before my eyes. Back then, Chloe hadn’t been born yet. No matter how busy Dad was, he would always show up at my preschool on time so I could be the first kid picked up. Mom’s phone wallpaper was always me. Her Instagram was filled with my pictures, every post bragging about how I was the best daughter in the world. At night, they would each hold one of my hands and say with a smile: “Mya is Mom and Dad’s most precious little girl.” When I was seven, I stayed up for nights to draw those one hundred Wish Coupons. When Mom received them, she held me close and kissed me over and over. Dad couldn’t bear to use them. He tucked them carefully into his wallet. “Our Mya is so good. How could we ever bear to ask you for anything?” The seven-year-old me could never have guessed. The people who would use these coupons to force me to give up everything, time and time again, would be them. The night Chloe was born, Dad stroked my hair and promised: “This doesn’t mean you have less love. It means you have one more sister to love you.” But every time Chloe cried, Mom’s grip on me would loosen. In the beginning, they just asked me to let Chloe have the hugs. Then it was my birthdays, my toys, and their time. Eventually, even my parents became something I had to give up. During the summer break when I was eight, they took Chloe to an island resort for the first time. I ran to the door with red eyes. “I want to go too.” Mom was putting a sun hat on Chloe. She didn’t even look up. “Your sister is fragile. Taking two kids is too exhausting.” “You stay at Grandma’s this time. We will definitely bring you next time.” I stood on the balcony, watching their car disappear at the intersection. That was the first time I was left behind. But it wasn’t the last. Every time after that, they always had an excuse to choose Chloe over me. When I was fourteen, I had acute appendicitis. I was curled up on the floor in agony. When Mom picked up the phone, she was watching Chloe’s dance competition. “This is her first time on stage. She’ll be terrified if she doesn’t see us.” “You’re fourteen now. If your stomach hurts, go to the hospital yourself. Stop trying to steal your sister’s spotlight.” I ended up fainting in front of the apartment lobby. A neighbor called the ambulance. By the time Mom and Dad arrived with Chloe and her trophy, my surgery was already over. Mom didn’t ask if I was in pain. Instead, she complained to the nurse: “Mya always exaggerates. She loves making a big deal out of nothing just to get attention.” Dad held Chloe’s medal in front of my face. “She trained for six months for this. As her sister, you should be happy for her.” I had just gotten out of surgery and could barely sit up, but I forced myself to say congratulations. Only then were they satisfied. After that, I stopped asking them for help. I went to the hospital alone when I was sick. I walked home in the rain by myself. I stopped waiting for birthday cakes. But they just said: “Mya is much stronger than Chloe. We don’t have to worry about her.” They used their neglect to teach me independence, and then used that independence as an excuse to never choose me. So, when Mom invited me on this trip two weeks ago, I was too excited to sleep. She said over the phone: “This time, the whole family will be together. Not one of us can be missing.” I took my annual leave and spent my entire bonus booking their flights. But when we got to the hotel, I found out the two-bedroom suite only had rooms for them and Chloe. I had to sleep on a rollaway bed in the living room. I couldn’t help but ask why they didn’t just book another room. Dad’s face darkened instantly. “We brought you on vacation, and you’re already complaining?” Mom sighed. “We’re here to have fun as a family. Do you have to ruin everyone’s mood over a room?” During those days, I woke up early to walk the dog, carry their bags, stand in lines, and take photos for them. When registering for the boat tour, the staff asked if I was family. Chloe laughed and said: “No, she’s just our dog sitter.” Mom and Dad stood right there. Neither of them corrected her. Chloe posted the photos I took on Instagram. [A family vacation with Waffles. Finally!] In the photo, Dad was holding Mom, and Chloe was holding the dog in the center. I wasn’t in the frame. But I still gave it a quiet like. At least this time, I got to see the same ocean with them.

Before the accident, Chloe had climbed over the warning line of the viewing deck just to take a photo. I went to pull her back. When a huge wave hit the rocks, she grabbed me tightly and dragged me down with her. But after she got to safety, they saved her first, and then her dog. Their “not one can be missing” never actually included me. As my memories faded, my spirit drifted beside them. The rescue team asked one family member to stay behind to help with the search. But Dad said impatiently: “Mya can swim. Nothing will happen to her.” Mom was convinced I was just throwing a tantrum because they saved Chloe first. “Don’t go looking for her,” Mom said. “The more we coddle her, the more she’ll use these tantrums to get her way.” I touched my empty chest. My mouth opened, but no sound came out. I guess once you’re dead, you don’t feel that heart-wrenching pain anymore. That was a relief. At 1:00 AM, Mom’s phone suddenly buzzed with an alert. It was my smartwatch. After detecting a severe fall into water with no response, it had automatically sent an emergency location. She glanced at it and swiped to delete. “Her watch is still sending locations. She’s obviously fine.” “Just ignore her.” But they didn’t know. That wasn’t me calling for help. It was the watch’s automated system sending out one final distress signal after a violent impact went unanswered. The next morning, the rescue team came to the hotel, asking for a recent photo of me. Mom scrolled through her phone for a long time. There were thousands of photos of Chloe, but she couldn’t find a single one of my face. In the end, Mom had to give them my ID photo from three years ago. The officer couldn’t help but ask, “You’re her family. How do you not have a single recent photo of her?” Mom’s face stiffened. “She has an awkward personality. She doesn’t like taking photos with us.” Chloe chimed in softly, “She always thinks we favor me, so she purposely avoids the camera to make people think we exclude her.” Floating next to them, I wanted to laugh. I was already dead. And yet, even the reason why I wasn’t in any photos had to be explained away by them. The officers pulled up the surveillance footage from the viewing deck to clip a photo of me before I fell. But the video clearly showed Chloe ignoring the warning signs and climbing over the railing. When the wave hit, she was the one who grabbed my clothes and dragged me down. Chloe’s face went pale instantly. “You can’t post that!” “If people see this, they’ll say I killed her!” Mom immediately shielded Chloe in her arms. “Just use the ID photo to find her! Why do you have to ruin my daughter’s life?” Dad’s face darkened too. “Mya is just temporarily missing. Chloe still has to go to school, get a job, and get married.” “If you release this video, how is she supposed to live her life?” Just then, Waffles started coughing. Chloe screamed and hugged the dog. “Is there water in his lungs?” Mom and Dad forgot all about the missing person poster. They grabbed the dog to rush to the vet. The officer stopped them. “The person in the water hasn’t been found. At least one family member needs to stay to assist.” Dad pushed his hand away impatiently. “Searching is your job. What use is it if we stay?” “Mya can swim and she has her smartwatch. If she were in real danger, she would have contacted us by now.” At the vet, they found out Waffles had only swallowed a little water. While Chloe watched the dog get examined, she scrolled through a video posted by a local Airbnb on TikTok. [Rescued a girl who fell into the water last night. Glad she’s safe.] The video only showed the back of a woman wrapped in a blanket. Mom instantly remembered the location ping she received last night. It was right near that Airbnb. Chloe covered her mouth. “I knew she made it ashore.” “She’s fine, but she’s purposely refusing to contact us.” The worry on Dad’s face instantly turned into rage. “Just to make us feel guilty for saving Chloe first, she wasted all these rescue resources!” Mom was shaking with anger. “She’s loved playing the victim since she was a kid. Now she’s even lying to the rescue team!” Chloe leaned into Mom’s shoulder, playing the sweet sister. “She probably just wanted your attention.” “When we find her, don’t yell at her too hard. Just make her apologize to the rescue team.” They immediately drove toward the Airbnb. On the way, they planned how they would punish me. Dad wanted to make me pay for the entire rescue fee. Mom wanted me to publicly clarify that I let go of the floating board myself, so it had nothing to do with Chloe. They were certain I was hiding in a warm room, waiting for them to bow their heads and apologize. But when they reached the rocky shore on the other side of the island, the road was blocked by emergency vehicles. Several rescue workers were carrying a stretcher out from the rocks. It was covered with a white sheet. The rescue captain looked at the ID photo in his hand, then at Mom and Dad. “Are you Mya’s family?” “We just found the body of a young woman on the rocky shore on the other side of the island.” “We need you to come over and identify her.”

As soon as the captain finished speaking, Dad’s face fell. “What do you mean, a body?” “Our girl is perfectly fine. Don’t curse her first thing in the morning.” Mom also instinctively pulled Chloe behind her. “Mya was saved by an Airbnb host last night.” “We’re on our way to pick her up right now.” The captain looked at the ID photo on his phone, then at the sleeve peeking out from under the white sheet. “The clothes on the deceased match what the missing person was wearing when she fell.” “Please, just come and confirm.” But Dad waved his hand impatiently. “Plenty of people wear the same clothes.” “Mya loves using these cheap tricks to scare us. If we go look, she’ll think she won.” Chloe, with red eyes, gently tugged Mom’s sleeve. “She must have seen the Airbnb video and is hiding on purpose.” “She’s just mad we saved Waffles and me first.” “When we find her, I’ll apologize to her, okay?” She sounded so sensible and wronged. Mom lovingly smoothed her hair. “It wasn’t your fault to begin with.” “She was the one who agreed to let you get on the boat first.” “Using a dead person just to force us to apologize… I can’t believe she would go this far.” I floated behind them, wanting so badly to remind Mom. *This time, I’m not hiding.* *And I’m not waiting for your apology.* *Under that white sheet, the person lying there quietly is me.* But they didn’t look back. Dad pressured the driver to bypass the rescue vehicles and drove straight to the Airbnb. On the way, Mom called my phone over a dozen times. With each unanswered call, her anger grew. “Mya, pick up.” “We already know where you are.” “If you come out now, we can still talk.” “If you keep this up, don’t ever think about coming back home!” Even after the last voicemail, there was still no reply. Mom sneered, throwing her phone into her purse. “When we see her, no one is allowed to comfort her first.” “She only acts this wild because she knows we’ll eventually give in.” Half an hour later, the car stopped at the Airbnb. Dad pushed the door open and demanded the host hand me over. The host looked completely bewildered. “Mya? We don’t have any guest named Mya here.” Chloe immediately pulled up the TikTok video. “It’s her.” “The woman wrapped in a blanket you rescued last night.” The host took a look and called upstairs. Soon, a strange woman came down, holding her husband’s hand. She only had a similar build to me. Her face, her voice, and her clothes had absolutely nothing to do with me. “I sprained my ankle in the shallow water last night, and my husband helped me back,” the woman explained, confused. “Did you get the wrong person?” The anger on Mom’s face slowly froze. Refusing to give up, she ran upstairs, shouting my name in every room. “Mya!” “Stop hiding! I know you’re in here!” She knocked on every single door. Still, I wasn’t there. Losing his patience, the host slammed the guest log on the table. “Since last night, we’ve only checked in this one injured guest.” “If the person you’re looking for really fell into the ocean, you should go back and help the rescue team.” Chloe’s face turned pale for a second, but she quickly bit her lip. “Mya probably heard we were coming and left early.” “She has money. She could have gone to another hotel.” Dad looked like he had finally grabbed a lifeline. “Right.” “She changed hotels on purpose to make us worry.” “This island is only so big. Let’s see how long she can hide.” Just as they were about to leave, hurried footsteps echoed outside. The rescue captain had followed them here. He was holding a clear plastic evidence bag. Inside was a waterlogged phone, a smartwatch, and a soggy piece of paper that was falling apart from the seawater. The writing on the paper had bled. But Mom instantly recognized the crooked little flower drawn in the bottom right corner. It was the mark the seven-year-old me had made on every single Wish Coupon. “We found these items near the body,” the captain said, his voice heavy. “Even if you won’t identify her, you must recognize her belongings.”

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Three years of marriage, and Asher Sterling has never touched me. I put on a sheer lace nightgown, faked a collarbone full of hickeys, and sent him a sleepy selfie from a “third-person” angle. “Man, she smells amazing.” “Hurry up and divorce her so I can have her.” I figured Asher would be disgusted and furious when he got this anonymous text. He would toss me out like trash. After all, I was just my sister’s substitute. I thought this would finally be the end of our marriage. But I never expected that right after receiving the text, he would fly back across the country overnight. Sienna was in Europe, celebrating her third wedding anniversary. She called to ask what I wanted for a gift. I only asked for a burner SIM card. Holding the plastic card in my hand, standing in the empty hotel room, I let out a long breath. Then, I changed into the sheer, lace nightgown I had bought specifically for this plan. Looking in the mirror, I used a small makeup tool to create realistic, bruised hickeys on my collarbone and neck. They looked dark and messy, as if someone had claimed me with wild, dominant passion. I even tore one of the thin straps of my nightgown. Finally, I smudged my lipstick slightly across my lips. I sat on the bed and messed up the pillows on the other side to make it look like someone else had been sleeping there. I closed my eyes. I set the camera on a timer, mimicking a candid photo taken by someone else. Three, two, one. In the photo, I looked like a woman who had just been thoroughly loved, sleeping deeply and defencelessly. I stared at the screen for a long time. My mind drifted to Asher’s ruthless reputation in the business world. They called him a smiling tiger. A cold-blooded corporate shark who would eat you alive without leaving bones. But to me, he was just a cold, emotionless face. Beautiful, yes. But all of his warmth and affection had belonged to my sister, Sienna. I was prepared for the worst. Even if Asher didn’t care about me at all, no man could tolerate being cheated on. He might try to ruin me. But in the end, he would be too disgusted to keep me. He would throw a divorce agreement in my face. And that was all I wanted. I just wanted a divorce. I closed my eyes and hit send. Along with the photo, I sent a casual, mocking text: “Man, she smells amazing.” “Hurry up and divorce her so I can have her.” Sent. In less than two seconds, my phone vibrated. Asher: “Who is this?” I took my time changing back into my normal clothes. I deliberately delayed my reply, enjoying the twisted thrill of keeping him waiting. Was he furious right now? Was he ready to skin this anonymous sender alive? Asher Sterling, the golden boy who had been perfect and in control his entire life, was finally having his strings pulled by someone else. And that someone was me—the girl he kept locked in his palm. After three years of silent misery, I felt a sudden spike of adrenaline. As I was pulling on a sweater, Asher sent two more messages on Snapchat. “Don’t use cheap deepfakes on me. Tell me what you want.” “I suggest you cut the crap and tell me the truth if you want to keep your hands.” I let out a soft laugh and typed back. “Mr. Sterling, if you think it’s a deepfake, why don’t you ask your wife yourself?” “The hickeys on my baby’s neck won’t fade anytime soon.” I dared to say this because I knew Asher was currently in London negotiating a massive tech merger. He couldn’t possibly get back for at least two weeks. Suddenly, my actual phone—my real number—started screaming. I jumped, my heart leaping into my throat. The caller ID flashed: *Asher.* I bit my lip, staring at the screen until the call timed out. But a second later, it lit up again. He was calling repeatedly, refusing to give up. I knew I had pushed his buttons. My heart hammered against my ribs. I felt like I was walking a tightrope over a pit of fire. I picked up the burner phone and sent another message: “Mr. Sterling, stop calling. We went at it five times. Your wife is exhausted and asleep.” The calls finally stopped. My real phone went completely silent. I typed one last message on the burner SIM: “I didn’t mean to break you guys up, man. But your wife and I are truly in love. Be a man, sign the papers, and let her go.” “Otherwise, everyone’s going to find out you’re wearing a massive green horn, and that won’t look good for your stock prices.” Asher didn’t reply after that. With trembling hands, I threw the torn lace nightgown into the hotel trash can, checked out, and took an Uber back to our villa. The housekeepers were quietly dusting the grand foyer. Everything was normal, quiet, as if nothing had happened. I washed my face and crawled into bed. But in the early morning, just as the sky was turning a pale grey, the sharp screech of tires outside woke me up. Before I could even process the sound, heavy, hurried footsteps echoed in the hallway, and my bedroom door rattled. “Chloe, open the door.” His voice was dangerously low, tightly controlled, but there was a crack of sheer panic hiding underneath. I froze, the blood rushing out of my face. It was Asher.

I panicked. Why was he here? To him, I was just a convenient replacement. Why would he fly back for this? The knocking came again. Three sharp raps. Pure, forced restraint. “Chloe. Open the door. Now.” I sat up, forcing my breathing to slow down. I couldn’t let him see me panic. I took a deep breath and called out in a sleepy, annoyed voice, “Asher… I’m going to the bathroom. Give me a minute to shower.” I dashed into the bathroom, turned the shower on high, and immediately leaned into the mirror to look at my neck. I had used a makeup suction cup to make those marks yesterday. To make it look real, I had gone all out. The bruises were dark purple. No amount of concealer was going to hide them. But I had to try to cover them anyway. Because a guilty wife would always try to hide her tracks. If I wanted this performance to work, I had to play the part perfectly. I wet my hair to look like I’d just stepped out of the shower, then pulled on a black turtleneck sweater that covered me up to my jawline. For the tiny bit of purple showing at the very top of my collar, I slapped a band-aid over it. I practiced a guilty, nervous expression in the mirror. Perfect. He would look at me, feel disgusted, and demand a divorce. I unlocked the door and stepped out. Asher was sitting on the living room sofa, his eyes closed, rubbing his temples. He looked exhausted. His face was pale, and dark stubble lined his jaw. He wasn’t wearing his watch, and his designer cufflinks were missing. One of his hands was white-knuckled around his phone. The other rested on the armrest, his knuckles split and bleeding. It looked like he had punched a wall. Hard. Multiple times. But he didn’t seem to notice or care about the blood. “Asher? Why are you back?” Asher opened his eyes. They were pitch black, intense, and completely focused on me. He stood up. The man who had been rushing a minute ago now walked toward me with agonizing slowness. I instinctively took a step back, but he reached out, his hand wrapping around my arm like a vice, pulling me back to him. His gaze dropped to my neck, his pupils shrinking. I forced a tight smile. “Did something happen?” He didn’t answer. He raised two fingers, hovering them just above the band-aid on my neck. It felt like he was going to rip it off, along with all my lies and our sham of a marriage. My body began to tremble. I closed my eyes, waiting for the explosion. But his touch was surprisingly light. He just let his fingers brush against the edge of the adhesive. “What is this?” he asked, his voice eerily calm. I avoided his eyes. “I… I accidentally scratched myself with a book cover yesterday.” “A book…” Asher blinked slowly. “And what were you doing last night?” His fingers slipped under the collar of my turtleneck. One tug, and he would see the dark bruises underneath. I swallowed hard. “I went out to get my hair done.” Asher’s breathing turned heavy, ragged. He stared at me, and for a second, I thought he was going to rip me apart. His grip on my collar tightened, pulling me close. I lost my balance and stumbled, my hands slamming against his broad chest to keep from falling. His other hand slipped around my waist, pulling me flush against his body. He was squeezing me so tight it hurt, as if trying to bleed off his hidden fury through his grip. I couldn’t fight his strength. My knees felt weak. Asher leaned down, his face inches from mine. “Asher, please… don’t,” I whispered, my voice shaking. I didn’t know what he was going to do, but every instinct told me I was in danger. My mind went blank. I began to plead mindlessly. For a few agonizing seconds, nothing happened. Then, he slowly let go of my collar. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, his face pale and tense. Only then did I realize what I had just said. *I’m scared. Don’t touch me. Please.* “I’m hiring two bodyguards for you,” Asher announced coldly. “They will follow you everywhere you go from now on. For your safety.” Without waiting for my reply, he turned on his heel and walked out. It wasn’t until I heard his car roar down the driveway that I snapped out of it. He wasn’t going to investigate? How was this possible?!

With the bodyguards watching my every move, I barely found a chance to use my burner phone. But Asher, who was supposed to be in Europe for two weeks, wrapped up his entire trip in just five days and rushed back to LA. Once he was back, the security around the house relaxed slightly. I finally grabbed the burner phone from its hiding spot. I logged onto Snapchat and typed: “Man, you’re a sore loser. Even if she cheated, just divorce her. Why lock her up?” Asher replied almost instantly. “She didn’t cheat. I trust her. Chloe would never do something like that.” I stared at the screen, stunned. What did he mean? Sure, I hadn’t actually slept with anyone because I didn’t have the guts to go through with it. But how could Asher be so sure? He had always been so cold to me. I clenched my jaw and decided to throw more gas on the fire. “Mr. Sterling, you don’t know your wife as well as I do.” “She has three tiny moles. One on her ribcage, one near her belly button, and another one… well, you know. Every time I trace a line connecting them with my fingers, she shivers like crazy.” “But you’re her husband of three years. You must know that already, right?” The sarcasm was heavy. Because in three years, Asher had never once touched me. *CRASH!* Suddenly, a massive shatter echoed from upstairs. It came from Asher’s study. I jumped, quickly shoving the burner phone deep under my mattress. There were a few more crashing sounds. Then, I heard Asher’s heavy footsteps coming down the stairs. His voice was exhausted as he spoke to the butler. “Have someone clean up the study. I need a new laptop.” The footsteps drew closer to my room. My heart hammered against my ribs. I felt like he was coming to tear me to pieces. Terrified, I dove under the covers and pretended to be asleep. Ever since he got back, my bedroom door lock had mysteriously “broken.” The door handle turned slowly. Finding the room in pitch darkness, Asher didn’t speak. In the heavy silence, his ragged, heavy breathing was incredibly loud. It was so intense that I wondered if he could hear my own heart pounding. He walked over to the bed. I squeezed my eyes shut. He didn’t shake me awake. He didn’t wrap his hands around my neck demanding answers. He just stood by the edge of the bed. Even with my eyes closed, I could feel his intense, burning gaze fixed on my stomach, as if he were agonizing over whether to check for himself. *Don’t shake. Keep your breathing steady. Play the part.* I didn’t move. Suddenly, the mattress sank beside me. Asher slowly lay down next to me. His gaze remained hot and heavy, burning into my back. I gritted my teeth. If I wanted to get out of this marriage, I had to play dirty. I turned around, pretending to be in a deep dream, and snuggled my head directly into his chest. Asher stiffened, but the sharp, angry tension in his gaze softened slightly. “Asher… babe…” I mumbled in a sleepy voice. His body went completely rigid.

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Liam’s teenage heroism was all about being the good guy. Back then, I was abused by my father, assaulted by a relative, and diagnosed with severe depression. I tried to end my life several times. Each time, Liam was the one who saved me and found me a safe place to stay. He took away my box cutters, threw out my bottles of sleeping pills, and refused to leave me alone for too long. “I’ll always be by your side,” he had told me. “From now on, let the tears fall, while you keep moving up.” When we grew up, we got together. But he remained just as much of a Good Samaritan. When his female secretary faced workplace bullying, he was the first to stand up and fight for her. When she was harassed and became too terrified to walk home in the dark, he personally drove her to and from work every day. When her apartment was broken into and she was too traumatized to sleep alone, he stayed at her place all night, sleeping on her couch to keep her company. Gradually, He stopped caring about whether there were sharp objects around me, or whether I spent my nights crying. He stopped caring if my violent father was tracking me down with a knife, demanding money. Instead, he threw a single sentence in my face. “Can’t you just be grateful for once? Chloe’s life is way worse than yours. I have to take care of her first.” But pain isn’t a competition. It shouldn’t be compared. I wasn’t ungrateful. I just wanted a heart that chose me first. That was all. Since he couldn’t give me that, it was time for me to pack up and chase what I actually deserved.

When Liam got ready to spend another night at Chloe’s place, I couldn’t take it anymore. I rushed forward, spreading my arms to block the front door. “Liam.” I looked up at him, my voice trembling. “Are you her boyfriend, or mine?” The eyes that used to look at me with nothing but warmth were now filled with cold detachment. “Elena, I’m just trying to be a white knight for someone who’s hurting. Can’t you be a little more open-minded?” I froze, listening to him continue. “A man is always a boy at heart. I’m just living out my childhood dream of being a hero. You should be supporting me.” “Elena, don’t be so selfish. I can’t be your personal savior forever.” Right. His savior complex was distributed equally to anyone in the world who needed help. Back in high school, Whenever someone was bullied, he was always the first to jump in. If someone couldn’t afford lunch, he would share his allowance with them. Even when my father beat me black and blue and left me shivering in the alley, Liam was the one who found me and gently wiped away my blood. I couldn’t go back to that abusive household. So, he took me in. We relied on each other. We healed each other. But when the rumors of my assault spread at school, people started victim-blaming me, calling me damaged goods. It was Liam who held me and whispered, “Elena, they are the ones who are wrong, not you. To me, you are an angel.” But the very thing that made me love him was now tearing me apart. I had fallen for him because he was a hero. And now, I was losing my mind because he wanted to play hero for someone else. Pulling myself back to reality, I grabbed his sleeve tightly, begging him. “Liam, please don’t go…” I stared into his eyes, desperately searching for a single shred of warmth or pity. There was nothing. He gently but firmly pried my hand off his sleeve. His words were brutally cold. “I have to. Chloe is sick. If I don’t go look after her, something terrible might happen.” Tears instantly blurred my vision. I choked out, “But I’m sick too.” “Liam, my father said he’s coming for me. I’m terrified…” Liam let out an annoyed sigh. “I told you, the security in this building is top-notch. He can’t get in.” Realizing he sounded too harsh, He softened his tone, patting my shoulder gently. “Elena, stop wrapping your whole identity around being a victim.” “Chloe took some psychology classes. She told me that the more I coddle you, the more you’ll think you’re broken. It’s time you learned to handle your own emotions.”

My heart went completely numb. I didn’t have the strength to block him anymore. Slowly, my arms fell to my sides. A smile finally broke across his face. He nodded in approval. “That’s my girl. That’s the supportive girlfriend I know.” “I’ll bring you some pastries when I get back tomorrow morning.” With that, He left without a second thought. The door clicked shut. Leaving me in the suffocating, pitch-black silence of the apartment. I felt like I was back in that dark, cold alley years ago. All the traumatic memories rushed back like a tidal wave. Anxiety crawled through my veins. Right then, There was a sudden, violent pounding on the door. Thud! Thud! Thud! I crept up and looked through the peephole. I was met with the menacing, drunken glare of a man. “Open the damn door, you little brat! Your father already sold you to me to pay off his debts! You’re going to be mine sooner or later!” “Just you wait!” The terror of past abuse suffocated me. My body went cold, and my hand instinctively flew to my phone to call Liam. But his words echoed in my head, over and over. “You need to learn to be independent. You can’t rely on me for everything.” Slowly, I lowered my phone. I bit my lip so hard it bled, refusing to make a single sound. I didn’t sleep a wink that night. As the morning light crept through the blinds, I dragged my exhausted body into the living room, trying to pour a glass of water to soothe the tightening in my chest. But the moment I looked up, I froze. There was a strange woman sitting on my couch. She wore a cute white skirt and had a bright, radiant smile. She stood up and greeted me warmly. “Hi, I’m Chloe Miller, Liam’s secretary.” So this was the Chloe he was always talking about. The one who constantly needed his protection. Before I could even process this, Liam walked out of our master bedroom, speaking in a casual, matter-of-fact tone. “Chloe is going to live with us from now on. It’s closer to the office, so her commute will be easier.” Years ago, He had brought a battered, broken version of me to this exact apartment for the exact same reason. Back then, this place was my only sanctuary. We lived together, fell into a routine, and eventually fell in love. But now, he was bringing another woman into our home using the same excuse. How was I supposed to feel okay with this? Seeing my eyes well up with tears, Liam quickly brought a pastry to my mouth, trying to feed me. “Don’t be silly, are you seriously jealous of my employee?” “Trust me, you’re the only one I love.” He raised three fingers, swearing to God. But his vow felt so cheap, so utterly meaningless. “Elena, I heard you struggle with depression,” Chloe said, putting on a show of deep concern. “But don’t worry, I studied psychology. Liam and I will help you heal.” Her eyes, however, were dripping with pure provocation. After she moved in, Everything changed. The cabinet that used to be mine, Was now stuffed with her dresses and skincare products. My antidepressants were pushed into a dusty corner, barely having any space left. To “cure” me, The two of them put all the knives back in the kitchen drawers right in front of me. They even unlocked all the safety latches on the balcony windows. “Chloe said that locking you away only makes you feel more insane.” “Elena, start living like a normal person. You can do this.” Nighttime was even worse. In the past, even a soft sigh from me would wake Liam up to comfort me. Now, when I woke up screaming from nightmares, covered in cold sweat, He didn’t even flinch. He wouldn’t even look at me. “Chloe said you need to face your fears. Running away won’t solve anything.” But after a month of this “treatment,” My condition only got worse.

Chloe stood by my hospital bed, biting her lip as she apologized. “I’m so sorry, Elena. I didn’t mean to make your condition worse. But I promise, I will cure you.” I let out a bitter, mocking laugh. “Cure me? Where is your medical license, Chloe?” She stiffened, clearly not expecting me to be so blunt. Immediately, she put on a perfect display of hurt and vulnerability. “Elena, if you hate me that much, I’ll just leave.” Liam instinctively stepped in front of Chloe, shielding her from my gaze. That protective gesture stabbed me right in the chest. “Elena, Chloe is only trying to help you. Why do you have to be so toxic?” “Why are you always so ungrateful?” He got more and more worked up. Until finally, he said the words that completely shattered my heart. “No wonder nobody likes you. No wonder your mother chose death just to get away from you!” My mother’s departure wasn’t a sudden rainstorm. It was a lifelong dampness in my soul. When my father beat me, my mother took the knife for me. Before she took her last breath, she told me, “Living is too painful. This time, I’m leaving, even if it means dying.” I had shown my deepest, bleeding scar to Liam. And now, he was using it to tear me apart in front of another woman. I thought I would cry, but when I touched my chest, it felt completely empty. Just cold, hollow air. I guess when your heart gets cold enough, it stops feeling the pain. “Liam, you’re right. So, why don’t you leave me too?” I forced a broken smile, Desperate to sever ties with him once and for all. A flash of panic crossed Liam’s face. “Elena, I didn’t mean it like that.” He tried to explain, but Chloe stopped him. “Liam, she’s too unstable right now. She won’t listen to anything you say. Let’s give her some space to calm down.” Liam hesitated, then nodded. He tucked my blanket in and walked out with Chloe. Once he walked out that door, He didn’t come back. It wasn’t until the next morning that they returned to handle my discharge papers. Looking at my pale face, Chloe smiled playfully, like she was holding a secret. “Elena, guess what Liam and I did for you yesterday.” My face remained blank. “I don’t care, and I don’t want to know.” Her smile faltered for a second, But she quickly recovered, pulling a giant plush bear from her bag. Her face was smug. “Look at this! Isn’t it cute? I know it’s your favorite.” “There was a couples’ challenge at the mall yesterday. We had to kiss for a whole hour to win this for you! Our lips were practically bleeding, but we did it!” “See? Liam and I really care about you.” In all the years I had been with Liam, We had never done anything that intimate. He had always told me, “The highest form of love is respect. I’m afraid to touch you too much because I don’t want to lose control and hurt you…” Yet, He could passionately kiss another woman for an hour just for some game. A wave of intense nausea hit my stomach. I grabbed the plush bear and threw it straight into the trash can, then gave Liam a cold stare. “I have a boundary when it comes to hygiene. I don’t want secondhand garbage.” Liam’s face flushed red with anger. “Elena! Are you cured now? Since when did you learn to be so malicious?” “Chloe and I did this just to make you happy! Why do you have to be so petty about how we got the bear?” I smiled bitterly. “But I’m not happy at all.” “Liam, let’s break up. I’m going back to pack my things.” Before Liam could even react, I had already hopped into a cab and driven away.

Returning to the apartment, I was overwhelmed with emotion. This place used to be my safe haven. But now, the storm inside was too violent, and there was no room left for me. Just as I finished packing my bags, Liam and Chloe rushed through the door. Liam cornered me against the wall, his eyes bloodshot as he begged me not to leave. “Elena, we love each other so much. Why are you doing this over a silly argument?” “If you don’t want me protecting other people, I won’t. I’ll be your hero, and yours alone.” “It’s too late tonight. Tomorrow, I promise, I’ll make Chloe move out. Okay?” Right. We used to love each other so much. A love where we would have given our lives for one another… Memories of his grand gestures flashed through my mind. Once, when I said I wanted pastries from Paris, he hired a private charter jet to fly them in overnight. On my birthday, He rented out an entire amusement park just to put on a private firework show for me. And when my father attacked me, he threw himself in front of the blade, getting stabbed twice just to get me to the hospital safely… But no matter how beautiful the past was, when it’s time to let go, you have to let go. If you keep trying to fish for a fallen sword in a flowing river, you only torture yourself. But Liam was stubborn. To calm him down, I decided to play along and agreed to stay. I would leave secretly in the morning. “Okay, I’ll give you one last chance.” Liam let out a sigh of relief, wrapping his arms around me tightly. “Get some sleep. I promise you won’t see a third person in this house tomorrow.” That night, My insomnia returned. In the dead of night, I suddenly felt a chill on my back. I opened my eyes, and my heart stopped. Standing by the window was the man I feared most in this world. My father. He had climbed up the balcony and broken into my room. He crept toward me, his eyes filled with greed. “Found you at last, you useless brat!” “Give me the money right now, or I’m selling you to that old man down the street.” The paralyzing fear of my childhood threatened to choke me. But this time, I refused to be his victim. I clenched my fists. I lunged forward and bit his wrist as hard as I could. My teeth sank deep into his flesh, and the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. He screamed in agony and shoved me away violently. I crashed heavily onto the floor. My arm swept across the bedside table, knocking over the burning scented candle. The flame caught the sheer curtains instantly. Within seconds, the fire climbed up the fabric, roaring into a blaze. Panicked, my father didn’t care about the money anymore. He scrambled back out the window to save his own skin. By the time the smoke seeped through the door into the hallway, Liam and Chloe finally realized something was wrong. Chloe was choked by the smoke and fainted, collapsing right into Liam’s arms. Liam looked at me, trapped in the middle of the raging fire, a look of sheer conflict on his face. “Elena, this is between you and your father! I can’t let Chloe get hurt!” “I have to get her to safety first. I’ll come back for you!” “You know fire safety! Try to get out on your own, I’ll be right back!” The thick, hot smoke stung my eyes, but I just laughed softly. Since nobody cared if I lived or died, I would save myself. Maybe Liam was right. I couldn’t wait for someone else to carry an umbrella for me. I had to walk through the rain myself. In that moment, I realized that the heart that chose me first had been beating inside my own chest all along. I stopped looking toward Liam. Instead, I turned toward the open balcony. Below the balcony was a rushing river. My only chance at survival. I wiped the tears from my face, and without a single shred of hesitation, I jumped straight into the dark water.

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My mom took me for a mental health evaluation. While filling out the form, I checked the box next to “Frequently feel sad.” She immediately snatched the pen and crossed it out. “How could you possibly be sad? Who in this house has ever mistreated you?” I checked “Social anxiety.” She frowned again. “You were so bubbly when you were a kid. Stop filling this out with nonsense.” I didn’t argue. Since she said I wasn’t sad, I changed the answer to “Never.” Since she said I slept perfectly, I erased “Frequent insomnia.” By the time the form was finished, almost every single answer had been rewritten to match her expectations. My mom picked it up, scanned it twice, and nodded with satisfaction. “Now, that’s more like it. You can’t just write whatever you want. What if the results are wrong? It would make a perfectly healthy person look sick.” In the end, the report showed everything was completely normal. My mom finally let out a sigh of relief. On the ride home, I kept rubbing the scar hidden beneath my sleeve. My heart was pounding loudly, but the world in front of my eyes was fading away. Eventually, there was only blankness, silence, and deathly stillness.

“I told you there was nothing wrong with you. I know you better than any doctor ever could. This trip was a complete waste of time.” In the car on the way back, my mom, Amber, took a photo of the clean bill of health and sent it directly to our family group chat on Snapchat. She specifically drew a red circle around the words: Results: Normal. “Took her for a checkup today. Absolutely nothing is wrong. She’s just scaring herself.” The moment the message was sent, my relatives started popping up one after another. My Aunt Mary texted: “I knew it couldn’t be depression. Your family provides her with such a great life. What does she even have to be depressed about?” My Uncle John added: “Kids these days just spend too much time on TikTok. They learn a few fancy terms and think it applies to them.” My dad, David, finally replied. “Good to know she’s fine. Stop causing drama now. Your mom works so hard to take care of you.” My mom put her phone down, looking thoroughly satisfied. “See? Everyone says you’re fine. You threw a little tantrum, and I had to wake up early just to drag you here.” “Depression? Please. If people didn’t know better, they’d think I was abusing you.” I stared at the screen and nodded. “Yeah. I’m fine.” My mom blinked, probably not expecting me to admit it so quickly. I lowered my head. I could only remember every single time I had reached out to her for help. She always broke down before I did. “I don’t even dare to say I’m depressed, and my life is way harder than yours! To take care of you, I wake up at dawn, cook you organic meals, and spend every waking hour worrying. I poured my soul into raising you, and somehow I’m the one in the wrong?” Even this hospital visit was just the result of her crying all night in frustration. “Fine! We’ll go to the hospital! I want to see exactly how much I’ve ‘ruined’ you!” This time, I didn’t dare to talk back. From that day on, I became perfectly normal. I didn’t need my mom to wake me up anymore. I got out of bed at exactly 6:30 AM. Whatever breakfast she made, I ate every single bite. Even when my stomach churned with nausea, I forced the last mouthful down. Before school, she searched my backpack and my phone. I just stood by and waited. I stopped asking her why she was going through my things. When she deleted the raw, messy thoughts from the notes app on my phone, I didn’t stop her. “This stuff is just whiny and dramatic,” she said, handing the phone back to me. “Write about happy things from now on.” During class, I no longer slumped over my desk. When Ms. Jenkins called on me, I stood up and answered clearly. My desk mate asked if I was feeling better lately. I smiled, mimicking my mom’s tone. “I was always fine. I was just overthinking things a while ago.” When I got home from school, I voluntarily helped my mom prep vegetables, vacuum the carpets, and fold the laundry. When she called Aunt Mary, her voice was light and airy. “That checkup was actually worth it. She’s finally snapped out of it.” “Before, she carried this miserable face around every day, like the whole family owed her something. Now that she knows she’s not sick, she actually has some energy.” Aunt Mary laughed on the other end of the line. “I told you so. Kids don’t have real problems.” My mom looked back at me. I was kneeling on the floor, scrubbing a tiny smudge near her feet. She said happily, “She just needed to realize that running away doesn’t solve anything.” I kept my head down and kept scrubbing. The stain had been gone for a long time. But I kept scrubbing the exact same spot, over and over again. At 10:00 PM, my mom pushed open my bedroom door. I was already tucked under the covers. My school uniform was folded neatly, and my homework for tomorrow was sitting right on top of my backpack. She finally smiled. “See? Isn’t it so much better to be normal?” “When I lectured you before, it was only because I didn’t want you going down the wrong path. When you grow up, you’ll realize I did it all for your own good.” I looked at her. “Thank you, Mom.” She turned off the light for me. Outside my room, she sent a voice note to my dad. “Don’t worry, she’s completely fine now. She’s being so obedient, and she doesn’t say those scary things anymore.” My dad asked, “Then why keep the evaluation report?” “Of course we have to keep it. Just in case she tries to pull another stunt in the future.” Her footsteps faded down the hallway. I kept my eyes open, staring toward the desk. The copy of the evaluation report was pressed flat under my desk lamp. Score: Normal. No depressive tendencies. Recommended: Maintain healthy family communication. I stared at it for a very long time. Then, I pulled out a brand-new journal. On the first page, I wrote: Today, I woke up on time. I finished my breakfast. I didn’t zone out during class. I helped Mom with the chores after school. I am doing great.

On the seventh day of writing in my journal, I threw up during my midterm exam. The moment the test papers were handed out, the sounds in the classroom suddenly felt miles away. The proctor’s footsteps, the rustling of paper, the morning announcements outside the window. It all blurred into one messy hum. All I could hear was my own heartbeat, hammering harder and faster against my ribs until it physically hurt. Ms. Jenkins helped me out into the hallway and called my mom. Thirty minutes later, my mom rushed into the school. Ms. Jenkins said, “She looks really pale. Maybe she should go home for the day.” “No need.” My mom pulled the folded evaluation report out of her purse. She had been carrying it everywhere lately; the edges were already frayed and creased. “We just got her checked out a few days ago. The results were perfect. She throws up right when the midterms start? What a coincidence.” A few students who had come out to the hallway to get water stopped to look. They glanced at the report, then at me. Ms. Jenkins lowered her voice. “It could just be academic stress.” My mom’s eyes instantly welled with tears. “Stress? She’s the only one with stress? I sacrificed my entire life to care for her, and the moment she claimed she had a mental illness, I dragged her to get tested immediately!” “The results are right here. Black and white. She is NOT sick! And now she’s putting on another show. What more does she want from me?” I stood frozen. My classmates’ stares felt like needles pricking my skin. I remembered the last time. It was also during an exam. I felt so suffocated that I ran out of the testing room. The first thing she did when she arrived was slap me across the face in front of everyone. “Everyone else is perfectly fine! Why do you always have to be the difficult one?” When I said I felt sick, she called it a cry for attention. When I said my heart was beating too fast, she said I was just trying to escape the test. So this time, she turned to me and demanded. “Can you take the test or not?” I nodded. “Yes.” My mom finally let out a sigh of relief. “See? She said it herself. She can do it.” I was sent back into the classroom. As I walked past the back row, someone whispered. “Wait, didn’t she say she had depression?” Another kid smirked. “Depression? Please. Her mom literally brought a medical report. She’s just faking it.” They giggled behind their hands. I sat back in my seat and picked up my pen. The words on the test paper swirled together. I had to copy them down letter by letter. But I still couldn’t hold on. That afternoon, Ms. Jenkins called me into her office. My mom was already sitting there. My exam was laid out on the desk, more than half of it left completely blank. My mom didn’t look at me. She grabbed Ms. Jenkins’ hand, her tears falling fast. “Ms. Jenkins, you have no idea how hard this is for me.” “She said she had issues, and I immediately booked the best doctor. Now that the results are out, she’s still doing this.” “I honestly don’t know what else to do to make her happy.” The other teachers in the office turned to look at us. Someone handed my mom a tissue. Ms. Jenkins sighed. “You really do have it rough.” She turned her gaze to me. “Your mom cares about you so much, Maya. You need to grow up and be more understanding.” I nodded. “I’m sorry, Mom. It’s my fault.” When we got home, my mom took a photo of the unfinished exam and posted it into the Snapchat family group chat. “Threw up during midterms today and left the paper blank. The moment an exam starts, she starts throwing tantrums again.” Aunt Mary quickly replied. “She’s just making excuses. You need to be stricter with her.” Uncle John wrote. “Zero resilience. Amber has always been so strong and independent. How did she raise such a weakling?” My dad sent the final text. “She’s clearly letting her mind wander because she has too much privacy. From now on, don’t let her lock her door. Stop letting her spend time alone.” That night, my dad walked into my bedroom carrying a toolbox. One by one, the screws fell to the carpet. I stood by the bed, watching my door being lifted off its hinges. My mom stood outside the doorway, her arms crossed. “You only get these dark thoughts because you isolate yourself too much.” “The last time you threw a fit and demanded a door, we let it slide. But now that you’re doing this again, we won’t tolerate it anymore.” I was trembling, my fingers tightly gripping the empty door frame. It felt like the very last line of defense in my mind was being violently ripped away. I wanted to beg her. But my mind was immediately flooded with the hurtful things she would say, and how she would cry about how everything was “for my own good.” Thinking of that, my voice died in my throat. From that day on, I could never close my door again. When I changed my clothes, I had to huddle deep under my blankets. When I couldn’t sleep at night, I didn’t even dare to toss and turn. My mom would walk past my doorway every few minutes, checking to see if I was secretly crying. At 3:00 AM that night, she stood at my doorway for the fourth time. I heard her whisper to my dad. “Look how quiet she is now.” “We should have done this a long time ago. We spoiled her too much before.”

Three days after the door was taken away, the school held a Parent-Teacher Conference. My mom arrived thirty minutes early. When Ms. Jenkins brought up student mental health, my mom immediately raised her hand. “Ms. Jenkins, I actually wanted to speak on this.” She pulled the report out of her bag. “My daughter claimed she was depressed a while ago. I paid for a full medical checkup, and she is completely fine.” The classroom was packed with parents. My mom’s voice grew more passionate as she spoke. “The internet is always teaching kids to label themselves. Bad grades mean anxiety, not wanting to go to school means depression, and if a parent says a word, it’s called ‘toxic parenting.’” “If we don’t put our feet down, these kids are going to be ruined.” Several parents nodded in agreement. Someone asked, “How is your daughter doing now?” My mom smiled, looking back at me as I stood at the rear of the classroom. “She’s completely cured. Come on, tell them yourself.” Every head in the room turned to look at me. I walked up to the podium. My mom shoved the report into my hands. “Go on, speak.” The paper crinkled under my tight grip. I forced a bright smile onto my face. “I was just overthinking things before. I caused a lot of trouble for my mom and Ms. Jenkins. But I’ve cleared my head now, and I won’t make a scene ever again.” The room erupted into applause. One parent praised my mom. “You raised her well. You really can’t coddle them.” My mom’s eyes crinkled with pride. “It’s all for her own good.” The next day, when I walked into the classroom, a few boys in the back row mocked me in high-pitched voices. “I’m fine, I was just overthinking things.” Someone had written “RESULTS: NORMAL” on the whiteboard. Next to it, they drew a crying face with the words: I have depression, poor little me. The whole class laughed. In the afternoon, Coach Anderson made us run the 800-meter. During the second lap, my heart rate went haywire again. My chest felt like it was stuffed with wet cotton; every breath I took burned like fire. Behind me, someone yelled. “Oh look, she’s having another ‘attack’!” Another kid laughed. “Shut up, she has a medical report. She’s perfectly normal!” I didn’t stop. The moment I crossed the finish line, I collapsed onto the track. My knees scraped against the gravel, and blood started dripping down my shins. Coach Anderson told me to go sit on the sidelines and rest. As I sat by the edge of the field, my racing heart suddenly began to slow down. I actually thought I was finally getting better. When I got home, my mom saw the gashes on my knees. “What happened?” “I fell while running.” “Coach Anderson called and said you almost fainted.” “I didn’t faint.” “Were you letting your mind wander again?” “No.” I looked at her. “I just skipped breakfast.” My mom’s expression softened. “Exactly.” “If your body feels bad, fix your physical health. Stop blaming everything on your psychology.” She went to the kitchen and scooped a massive bowl of homemade lasagna for me. “Eat all of it. I don’t want your teachers thinking I starve you at home.” I forced it down, forkful by forkful. By the time I reached the end, my stomach was violently spasming. That night, I threw up all over my bed. I didn’t dare make a sound. My room had no door; my mom could walk by at any second. I rolled up the soiled duvet cover, shoved it deep under my desk, and threw my school uniform over it to hide it. In the living room, my mom was on FaceTime with Aunt Mary. She was laughing happily. “That kid was just being dramatic. I saw right through her.” “One checkup and taking her door off was all it took. Look how obedient she is now.” “If your kids ever start acting depressed, just send them to me.” She paused, her voice dripping with pride. “I’m basically a professional counselor for dramatic teenagers now.” I covered my mouth, swallowing down the bitter acid that kept rising in my throat.

The next day, my mom set up her phone on a tripod in the living room. She set up two chairs and made me sit right next to her. “Smile. Don’t look so miserable.” I forced the corners of my mouth upward. “Like this?” “More natural.” She hit record and flashed a practiced, glowing smile at the camera. “Lately, so many parents have been asking me what to do when their kids constantly claim they have depression.” “Honestly, there aren’t that many sick kids. They just spend too much time on their phones, think too much, and lack discipline.” She held up the evaluation report to the lens. “My daughter went through a phase too. But we took her to the doctor, got her tested, and absolutely nothing was wrong.” She turned the camera toward me. Under the table, she nudged my leg with her foot. “Tell everyone yourself. Are you all better now?” I stared at my pale, hollow reflection in the camera lens. “Yes. I’m all better.” “Why did you think you were sick before?” “I was just being dramatic.” “Did I ever abuse you?” “No.” “So when I discipline you, is it for your own good?” I nodded. “Yes.” My mom turned off the recording and replayed it a few times. “You did great this time.” She posted the video to the school PTA Snapchat group with the caption. “You can’t coddle kids. The more you indulge them, the worse they get.” Within thirty minutes, the comments were flooded with praise. Some called her a parenting genius. Some asked her for advice on how to make their own teenagers listen. Someone even forwarded the video to our high school’s student group chat. That afternoon, Ms. Jenkins called my mom. “The video is spreading. Some of the students in class are gossiping about it.” My mom chuckled. “Let them talk. It’s a good lesson for those kids to stop faking illnesses for attention.” After hanging up, she showed the screen to me. In the video, the girl was smiling brightly. One comment read. “This girl looks so normal. How could anyone think she was sick?” Another said. “She just needed some tough love. Look how quickly she was cured!” My mom slid the phone in front of me. “See? Everyone can tell you’re perfectly fine.” I nodded and let out a soft laugh. For dinner, she made my favorite lasagna again. “We’re celebrating today. Eat up.” She kept piling food onto my plate. I swallowed every single bite. My mom took out her phone and snapped a photo of me eating. “Look at you, eating and drinking just fine. And you dared to say you were depressed.” “I’m posting this to show everyone how great you’re doing.” I flashed a quick smile for the camera. By the second plate, my stomach was burning. I forced it down anyway. My mom was still scrolling through the new comments under her video. “Someone suggested I should start a parenting podcast.” “To teach other parents how to handle these overly sensitive kids.” My dad smiled too. “You really did cure her.” Late that night, my stomach couldn’t hold it anymore. I knelt over the toilet, clutching my mouth, not daring to let a single sob slip out. Blood began to drip from my wrists, falling into the vomit before I could flush it away. My nails had clawed through my old scars, ripping the half-healed flesh wide open. Crimson and white swirled together in the bowl. In the living room, the audio from my mom’s TikTok video was still looping. Through the open doorway, I could hear my own calm voice playing over and over. “I’m all better.” My mom wasn’t wrong. I woke up on time today. I ate two plates of food. I smiled at everyone. I didn’t cry. I didn’t complain. My heart rate slowly began to drop. Thump. Thump. The pauses in between grew longer and longer. I pressed my palm against my chest and waited quietly. This time, my heart didn’t scream for help. When dawn was breaking, my mom noticed the bathroom light was still on. She pushed the door open. Seeing me slumped on the floor, she froze for a second, and then she screamed. My dad rushed in, frantically dialing 911. My mom collapsed onto her knees in the blood and vomit, screaming my name over and over. But her voice sounded so incredibly far away. I couldn’t make out the words at all.

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My boyfriend, Liam, and I both worked downtown, but he was dead-set on buying a house in the Northside suburbs. We had been fighting about it for over six months. He accused me of being selfish, saying I only cared about my daily commute and didn’t understand “long-term property value.” That was until Valentine’s Day. Liam suddenly called me, his voice ecstatic, telling me he had finally found the perfect apartment right downtown. I was thrilled. Without a second thought, I agreed to meet him after work to sign the papers. But instead of a warm welcome, I ended up standing on a freezing street corner in the pouring rain for an hour. Finally, my phone buzzed with a location pin. “The rain’s too crazy. Chloe and I are waiting for you at the new place.” The roads were slick, and my heart was racing. I slipped and fell three times on the wet pavement. By the time I dragged myself to the apartment, I looked like a drowned rat. He and my best friend, Chloe, had already signed the papers. They were sitting on the couch, excitedly discussing the future. “This place is so close to my new office,” Chloe giggled. “I should rent a place nearby so I can come over for dinner every single day.” “Why rent?” Liam smiled warmly at her. “I already picked out a room just for you.” They went on and on, debating everything from the style of the sectional couch to the color of the curtains. That was the moment I realized Liam’s definition of “property value” was entirely based on where Chloe wanted to live. As for my feelings? I was just an afterthought. If that was the case, it was time for me to walk away.

A few feet away, Liam and Chloe were completely absorbed in choosing the accent wall color for the master bedroom. Not once did either of them look up to ask for my opinion. I stood there in silence for a moment, gripped my bag, and quietly walked out. As the elevator doors were about to close, an older woman squeezed in. Seeing me shivering and soaked to the bone, she kindly handed me a pack of tissues. “Here, dry yourself off dear, or you’ll catch a cold. It’s a storm out there. It’s not safe to walk alone. Can you call your family to pick you up?” I lowered my eyes, taking the tissues. “Thank you. But they’re busy.” Busy making decisions for my life. Sympathy flickered in her eyes, but she was polite enough not to pry further. When I stepped out of the lobby, the downpour had gotten worse. I was on my ninth consecutive Uber cancellation when Liam’s car finally pulled up in front of me. The passenger window rolled down halfway, and Chloe waved at me with a bright smile. “Adeline, get in! Liam said you were too stubborn and would rather freeze on the curb for half an hour than call us. I didn’t believe him, but wow, you really are silly. Why didn’t you just call?” Liam had watched me struggle in the storm just to make Chloe laugh. In the past, I would have thrown a massive fit, screaming at him. But this time, I just silently opened the back door and climbed in. Liam blinked in surprise, looking at me through the rearview mirror. A smug, teasing smile crept onto his face. “Well, look at that. I guess a little rain actually teaches you a lesson. You’ve gotten much sweeter.” The car rolled forward a few yards and stopped again in front of a coffee shop. Five minutes later, Liam returned with a steaming hot chocolate, handing it directly to Chloe. “Your stomach’s been sensitive lately. Drink this first.” Then, he tossed a stale, wrapped croissant into my lap. “This has been sitting in the glove box for a while. Eat it before it goes bad.” As he spoke, his eyes swept over the wet patch I was leaving on his leather seats. “Adeline, can you grow up a little? I didn’t pick you up for one afternoon, and you throw a tantrum, get soaked, and play missing in action? Is it fun making Chloe and me worry about you?” So, he hadn’t missed how miserable I looked. He just thought I was being dramatic. I gripped the cold croissant, a lump rising in my throat. I wanted to scream at him. But a sudden gust of wind from the half-open window hit me, and I sneezed violently. Chloe lightly punched Liam’s shoulder. “Stop being so mean! Turn up the heat. If Adeline gets sick, I’m going to kick your butt.” Liam casually reached over and felt Chloe’s forehead. “You’re already sweating. Don’t worry about her. There’s a blanket in the back. She can use that if she’s cold.” Three years ago, I quit my job and moved to this city with Liam. He hated seeing me squeeze into the crowded subways every day, so he worked endless overtime to save up enough money to buy this car. The day he drove it off the lot, he swore he’d be my personal chauffeur for the rest of my life. For a while, he kept that promise. But then, Chloe’s mother passed away, and she had a mental breakdown. Thinking a change of scenery would help her heal, I encouraged her to move here. I helped her find an apartment, introduced her to job leads, and even asked Liam to help her prep for interviews and look over her client proposals. Inevitably, they became close. But I never expected that their closeness would push me from the passenger seat straight into the back. Even the AC temperature in the car was lowered from 77 to 70 degrees just because she casually mentioned she was “warm.” When I protested back then, Liam had snapped at me. “Chloe gets motion sickness; she needs to sit in the front. Besides, if you’re cold, put on a jacket. If she’s hot, she can’t peel her skin off. Stop picking fights over nothing.” I took a deep breath, pulled up my banking app, and hit send. I transferred the $30,000 renovation fund my dad had wired me earlier that morning right back into his account.

“Adeline, what do you want to eat? A new Mexican place just opened around the corner. I heard their spicy chicken wraps are amazing! Too bad you can’t handle spicy food, otherwise I’d totally drag you there.” As Chloe spoke, she took a sip of her soda and naturally offered the straw to Liam. Liam was a total germaphobe. When we ate together, he insisted on using separate serving forks. Yet now, he took a sip from her straw without a second thought. “If you want to go, we’re going. Don’t bother asking her. She’s way too picky and cheap anyway.” I squeezed my phone tightly, refusing to take the bait. All those times I pinched pennies just so we could save up for our future home had turned into me being “picky and cheap” in his eyes. When we arrived at the restaurant, there was a long line wrapping around the block. Liam naturally pushed me to the back of the queue. “Wait here and hold our spot. Chloe and I are going to check out the shops next door.” For the first time in my life, I didn’t argue. As I stood in line under the cold drizzle, I opened Amazon and emptied my shopping cart, deleting every single rug, lamp, and curtain I had saved for our new home. For years, Liam and I had shared a single Prime account. Since we were ending things, it was time to untangle our lives. And that was when I noticed something I had missed before. Over the past year, Liam had used my account to buy hundreds of items for Chloe. Everything from designer tumblers to a smart TV and a mini-fridge. The money I had painstakingly saved by skipping lunches had been spent entirely on Chloe. Suddenly, someone tapped my shoulder. I turned around, and Liam immediately popped a chocolate into my mouth. The rich, familiar sweetness melted on my tongue. My mind flashed back to five years ago, when he had traveled eighteen hours on a cheap bus just to hand-deliver this exact brand of chocolate to me for Valentine’s Day. Seeing me stare at him blankly, Liam smiled, pulling me into a tight embrace. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Adeline.” I instinctively looked past his shoulder and caught Chloe’s eyes. For a split second, the sheer, poisonous envy in her gaze was impossible to hide. Just then, the hostess called our name. I pushed Liam away with all the strength I had. “Let’s just eat.” Once seated, Liam glanced at the menu and quickly ordered without consulting me. “We’ll get the signature beef tacos, the spicy chicken wraps, and a side of habanero salsa. Chloe, anything else you want?” Chloe smiled demurely. “You already ordered all my favorites.” Then, as if suddenly remembering I existed, she looked at me with mock concern. “Oh, Adeline doesn’t eat spicy food. Maybe we should swap the spicy chicken wrap for a mild beef and cheese burrito?” Liam hesitated for a second before waving his hand. “No need. We’ll just get her a mango juice to cool her mouth down. If it’s too spicy, she can just scrape the salsa off.” I didn’t say a word. I just poured myself a glass of water. When the food arrived, Liam carefully picked out the onions, which Chloe hated, from his taco and placed the perfect piece on her plate. “Here you go.” I looked away and took a bite of the wrap. The burning spice hit my throat, and tears instantly sprang to my eyes. Liam hurriedly pushed a glass of mango juice toward me. “Drink this.” I didn’t touch it. I poured another glass of water and choked it down instead. He frowned, muttering under his breath, “What are you throwing a tantrum for now?” before turning back to feed Chloe. But I wasn’t throwing a tantrum. He had simply forgotten, once again, that I am severely allergic to mangoes. After dinner, Liam was supposed to drive Chloe home. But she pointed at a neon-lit bar across the street, her eyes sparkling. “It’s Valentine’s Day! Going home now is so boring. Let’s grab a drink and experience the nightlife!” My throat was itching, and my skin was starting to burn from the cross-contamination of the food. I shook my head. “You guys go. I’m really tired and feel sick…” Before I could finish, Liam cut me off coldly. “We’re already here, Adeline. Don’t be a party pooper.” I suddenly realized that ever since Chloe moved here, “don’t be a party pooper” had become Liam’s favorite phrase. And to keep the peace, I had compromised countless times. But tonight, I was done. “Have fun. I’ll just call a cab.” Liam snatched my phone right out of my hand and shoved it into his pocket. “Stop making a scene!” With that, he grabbed Chloe’s hand and pulled her into the crowded, pulsing bar. The moment we sat down at a booth, Chloe dragged Liam straight to the dance floor. I sat in the dark corner, the pounding bass making my head throb. I got up, wanting to find a quiet restroom to splash cold water on my face. But after only two steps, a heavy, sweaty hand clamped onto my wrist. “Hey beautiful, let’s get a drink,” a drunk guy slurred, pulling me toward him. Panic flared. I instinctively yelled over the music. “Liam!” The music was deafening, but I saw Liam turn around. He heard me. But just as he started to take a step toward me, Chloe bumped into a group of guys nearby, spilling her drink. Liam hesitated for a fraction of a second, then turned his back on me to rush to Chloe’s side. Seeing that no one was coming to help me, the drunk guy grew bolder, dragging me toward his booth. His grip was like iron. Summoning every ounce of strength, I shoved him away and screamed for Liam again. “Liam! Help me!” But he was too busy shielding Chloe, completely ignoring me. As the drunk guy lunged at me again, I swung my arm and slapped him hard across the face. The man stumbled, clutching his cheek. His eyes turned bloodshot with rage. He raised a massive fist and punch me squarely in the face, knocking me to the ground. “You crazy bitch!” I crashed into a table. Glass bottles and cups shattered, raining down on me. Shards sliced deep into my skin. Screams and shouts erupted all around me. As my vision began to fade into darkness, I saw Liam finally sprint over, tackling the drunk guy to the floor. He turned around, his face pale with horror, reaching out to scoop me into his arms. My body flinched away from his touch instinctively. Then, everything went black.

When I opened my eyes, I was lying in a hospital bed. A dull, throbbing pain radiated from every inch of my body. I looked down to see my arms wrapped in white bandages. Seeing me stir, Liam quickly handed me a cup of warm honey water. “Drink this, it’ll help with the headache. Oh, by the way, your dad called. He wanted to know why you returned the $30,000 renovation wire.” I took a slow sip of the water and said flatly, “We don’t need it anymore. So I sent it back.” Liam froze, then gave a dry, annoyed laugh. “Are you seriously still mad? Chloe accidentally stepped on someone’s foot last night and the guys were hounding her. That’s why I couldn’t get to you right away.” “But don’t worry, I beat the crap out of that guy for you. He won’t be getting out of bed for at least three days.” He said it so righteously, as if his belated revenge made up for everything. As if I was the unreasonable one for holding a grudge. I dug my nails into my palms. “If a person is already dead, does crying at their funeral make any difference?” Liam’s face darkened. “What do you want me to do, Adeline? It was an emergency. I had to choose…” Chloe chose that moment to walk into the room, her eyes brimming with tears and guilt. “Liam, don’t fight with Adeline. Last night was all my fault. If we hadn’t gone to the bar…” Liam reached out, gently smoothing her hair. “How is this your fault? Honestly, it’s her own problem. There were hundreds of people in that bar last night. Why did that creep target her and not anyone else?” I stared at him, my eyes burning with disbelief. Chloe pulled on Liam’s sleeve, whimpering. Liam sighed, his tone softening slightly. “Fine, I’m sorry. Okay? Chloe and I have a meeting with the interior designers today. I already messaged your boss on WhatsApp to request a sick day for you. Get dressed.” I bolted upright, my voice shaking. “Liam, my project launches today.” I had told him repeatedly over the phone yesterday that these two days were critical for my career. I had begged him not to schedule anything. He had promised he wouldn’t. And then he threw my career in the trash. Liam blinked, then waved his hand dismissively. “Your company has plenty of people. They don’t need you for one day. And honestly, if it’s that stressful, just quit. I can support you.” With one casual sentence, he dismissed years of my hard work. My fingers trembled violently. I closed my eyes and said the words clearly. “We’re breaking up, Liam. You can decorate that apartment however the hell you want.” The room went dead silent. Chloe quickly chimed in, her voice trembling. “Adeline, please don’t be mad. I’ll call the designers right now and reschedule.” Liam’s brows furrowed. He clearly thought I was using a breakup as an empty threat to manipulate him. The tiny shred of guilt in his eyes vanished, replaced by pure annoyance. “If you don’t want to go, fine. Chloe, let’s go.” The moment the door slammed shut, my phone rang. It was my dad. “Sweetie, don’t skimp on the house renovation. I just wired the $30,000 directly to Liam’s account. I know it’s hard for you kids to buy a place nowadays. Your mom and I want to help as much as we can.” My heart stopped. “Dad, you wired the money directly to Liam?” When he confirmed it, I bit down on my knuckles to keep from sobbing. It took everything in me to keep my voice steady. “Thanks, Dad. I’ll… I’ll come visit you and Mom in a couple of days once things settle down.” I hung up, desperate to call Liam and demand the money back. But before I could, my work phone rang. My team lead said there was a catastrophic bug in our launch code. If we didn’t patch it immediately, not only would I lose my job, but I’d also be held legally and financially liable for the damages. Swallowing my panic, I rushed out of the hospital and ran back to the office. For the next forty-eight hours, Liam didn’t call or text me once. On the other hand, Chloe kept spamming our Snapchat group chat with blueprints, fabric samples, and furniture options, constantly tagging me. Miserable and exhausted, I muted the notifications. Forty-eight hours later, the launch was a success. The crisis was averted. But the moment the system went live, I walked into my manager Alisa’s office and handed in my resignation. Alisa looked at me with deep regret, but she didn’t try to stop me. She knew what I had been going through. The second I stepped out of the office building, I dialed Liam’s number. It went straight to voicemail. I opened Instagram. Chloe had posted a picture thirty minutes ago. She was holding a signed document with a red ink thumbprint on it, flashing a huge peace sign. The caption read: “Officially moving into my forever home with Liam!” It was a co-habitation agreement, giving her permanent rights to the apartment. I let out a cold, bitter laugh. I tapped the heart button and left a comment: “Congratulations. The house is all yours. Now tell Liam to return my dad’s $30,000.”

Ten minutes later, Chloe’s contact card flashed on my phone. I picked up, but a strange male voice spoke on the other end. He told me Chloe had been in a horrific car accident. She was in the ER, and I needed to get there immediately. My blood ran cold. No matter how furious I was, Chloe had been my best friend for years. She had no other family left. If something happened to her… Horrible scenarios raced through my mind. I sprinted through the hospital corridors, frantically searching the ER, but there was no sign of her. The sheer exhaustion and panic of the last few days finally broke me. I collapsed onto the floor of the hallway, sobbing hysterically. Suddenly, two shadows fell over me, blocking the harsh fluorescent light. A playful voice giggled. “Adeline! Surprise!” I slowly lifted my tear-stained face. Chloe was standing there, locking arms with Liam, beaming from ear to ear. Both of them were clean, pristine, and completely uninjured. Seeing my bewildered stare, she laughed. “You were ignoring Liam and me, so I had to play a little trick to get you out here. I didn’t realize you loved me this much! Oh my gosh, I have to post this on Insta.” She whipped out her phone, shoving the camera right in my face. Her expression was innocent, but the malicious triumph in her eyes was unmistakable. She did this on purpose. She lied to me, paraded her emotional affair in front of me, and actively tried to push me over the edge. And my boyfriend of five years stood just two feet away. He didn’t stop her. He didn’t even reach down to help me up. He just said half-heartedly, “Okay, Chloe, one picture is enough. Adeline’s shy.” Something in my brain snapped. I lunged forward, snatched the phone out of her hand, and slammed it onto the tile floor with all my might. “Get the hell away from me!” I screamed. Chloe let out a dramatic gasp, stumbling backward and falling gracefully onto the floor. Liam’s face transformed into a mask of rage. He shoved me aside violently, rushing to scoop Chloe into his arms. “Adeline! Are you out of your mind?” “Chloe was just trying to bring us back together, and you smash her phone?” His shove was so powerful that I flew backward, my back crashing hard against the concrete wall. My arm scraped against a sharp metal bracket on the wall, and hot, crimson blood began to drip down my sleeve. Liam’s hand twitched when he saw the blood, but he forced himself to look away, hardening his heart. “You love telling people to get lost? Fine. Pack your shit and get out of my apartment today.” I stared at him, my voice dead and cold. “Fine. Give me back the $30,000 my dad wired you, and I’ll burn every memory of you.” Liam choked on his words, momentarily stunned. But Chloe quickly pulled out the co-habitation agreement from her bag and tore it to pieces, sobbing. “I don’t need this anymore! I’ll leave right now.” Panicking, Liam turned to me and snapped, “Adeline! She’s your best friend! How can you be so incredibly greedy? You want the money? Fine, I’ll transfer it to you later. Now pack your things and get the hell out!” With that, he chased after Chloe. I wiped the tears from my face, got into a cab, and went back to the apartment we shared. Just as I finished packing my bags and opened the front door, I ran directly into Chloe. In the collision, a document fell out of her hand. Catching the smug smirk on her face, my stomach dropped. I bent down and grabbed the paper before she could. It was a purchase agreement for a condo. The buyer was Chloe. The down payment paid: $30,000. My hands shook, but my voice remained steady as I looked at Liam, who had just walked in behind her. “Liam. Do you have time to pay me back now?” Liam rubbed the back of his neck, trying to avoid my eyes. “You wouldn’t let Chloe live with us, and she needed a place of her own. This condo was having a massive flash sale. It would’ve been stupid to miss it, so I lent her the $30,000. We can just save up more money later and renovate both places together.” I looked at him, my heart turning to ice. “So, without my consent, you took the money my father earned with his sweat and tears, and used it to buy her a condo?” Liam mumbled, “We’re all friends, Adeline. I was just trying to help.” My heart was entirely dead. I pulled my suitcase behind me and walked past him into the elevator. Liam stood there, his fists clenching and unclenching, but he didn’t take a single step to follow me. The moment I walked out of the building, I drove straight to the police precinct. “I’d like to report a grand larceny and financial fraud.”

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I was scrolling through a local online forum tonight when a post caught my eye. [Giving away my girlfriend of seven years. Free. Slightly used.] [5’5″, 103 lbs, D-cup. Total pushover, obeys your every command.] [DM me for her Snapchat.] The comment section was already a thousand layers deep. — “Bro, at least post a picture.” — “They all look the same when the lights are off anyway. As long as she has a hot body, I’m down. OP, check your DMs!” — “If she’s that good, why aren’t you keeping her?” The original poster replied: — “Too clingy. Annoying.” My brow furrowed tighter and tighter as I read on. Just as I was about to close the app, a notification popped up on my phone. A stranger was adding me on Snapchat. The request message read: *Hey, you’ve just been traded to me.* Almost instantly, my mind went blank. It was Julian. He had put me up on the internet, giving me away like a piece of used furniture. How ridiculous. Just a second ago, I was actually feeling sorry for the poster’s girlfriend, thinking about how heartbroken she would be. Now, with an eerie wave of calmness, I clicked into Julian’s profile. In March, his account posted its very first entry: [Nobody in this world understands me.] In April, he lamented: [My art is trash, just like my life. There is no hope left.] In May, I stared at a photo of a girl’s back, my heart sinking. [She finally appeared.] [Daisy understands me, and she understands my art.] [We are soulmates. Twin flames.] [We are two halves of the same soul, meeting far too late.] [The white daisies are in full bloom.] It wasn’t until June that he finally mentioned me. [Accidentally saw a split end in C’s hair today. Disgusting. It felt like a smudge on a clean canvas, a misplaced brush, a torn piece of sketch paper.] “C”—the first letter of my name, Chloe. [Basic. Vulgarian.] By July, they seemed to be deeply in love. [I wish I had met you first.] [I’ve painted you, my beautiful Daisy.] I felt like a pathetic clown scrolling through their love story. And then came August. [Giving away my girlfriend of seven years. Free. Slightly used.] *Click.* The bedroom door pushed open. Julian walked in and pulled his favorite white suit out of the closet. I had ironed it right after coming home from my exhausting corporate job. There wasn’t a single wrinkle on it. His eyes narrowed slightly in satisfaction. Before leaving, he said coldly, “Go to sleep. Don’t wait up for me.” He didn’t even look at me. He hadn’t touched me in two months. The last time we tried to be intimate, he suddenly stopped and pulled away, his face pale with disgust. At the time, I had asked him gently, “Are you feeling sick again?” He had barely nodded, keeping his eyes away from me. Now I knew. He had seen that split end in my hair. It was 11:30 PM, and he was putting on a formal suit to go out. I lay in bed, reading those thirteen posts over and over again. At 1:00 AM, I got out of bed and forcefully broke open the door to his art studio. We shared a 1,200-square-foot apartment. I had given him 600 square feet of it to use as his studio. Yet, I didn’t even have the key to enter it. I flipped on the harsh overhead light. The room was immaculate, dust-free. His paintings were neatly arranged. My eyes swept over them, finally landing on the only framed piece in the corner. Julian had used an expensive, custom wooden frame to show how much he treasured it. The girl in the painting was ethereal, lively, and incredibly beautiful. How long does it take to paint an oil portrait so detailed you can see the pores on her skin? I didn’t know. But the portrait he had painted of me years ago was a rushed, messy sketch that took him barely two hours. Yet back then, I was so thrilled. I had danced around that silly sketch for days, completely ignoring the cold, mocking look in his eyes. And that sketch, which I had cherished like a priceless treasure, wasn’t even worth a fraction of the painting in front of me. I closed my eyes in pain. I still remembered the first time I met Julian. It was on the rooftop of a sixteen-story building. I had screamed at him, begging him not to jump. I coaxed and lied until I finally dragged him down. When I finally caught my breath, my legs were shaking so hard I couldn’t stand. He had just stared at me, silent. He was so fragile back then. I naively thought I could save him. And just like that, I wasted ten years of my life. He wanted to be a pure artist. He painted one piece a month, but nobody ever bought them. So, I secretly bought every single one of them under an anonymous account for $1,000 each. I worked overtime, drank with clients until my stomach bled, and got hospitalized. Yet, on the day I was discharged, I still didn’t forget to buy him a bouquet of fresh roses. He never thanked me. He only posted online: [Basic.] Turns out, he preferred daisies. His beautiful Daisy. I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. I laughed at my own stupidity. I couldn’t even see his blatant disgust. I laughed at my naivety. I was thirty years old, and I had absolutely nothing to show for it. Ten years of my youth were summarized by him as “a total pushover.” My phone dinged. Julian: *Accept the Snapchat request when you wake up.* Ten minutes later, another text came through: *He’s the new boyfriend I found for you.*

My grip tightened around my phone. I snapped a photo of Daisy’s portrait and sent it to him. [Is this Daisy?] The usually indifferent Julian panicked instantly. Julian: *How did you get into my studio?!* Julian: *Chloe, do not touch my painting!* He rushed back home. His pristine white suit was slightly disheveled. The moment he saw the painting was untouched, he let out a massive sigh of relief. Then, his face darkened. “What the hell is wrong with you? Sneaking into my studio in the middle of the night. Are you insane?” My voice was ice cold. “You think I’m insane for entering a room in my own apartment?” “Were you sane when you listed your girlfriend online like a piece of trash?” “Were you sane when you let a random creep add your girlfriend on Snapchat?” A flash of surprise crossed his eyes. But he quickly recovered his cold demeanor. “Don’t worry. I filtered them.” “The guy who added you is the best among them. He’s 32, 5’10”, in good shape, with a stable job. He’s perfect for marriage.” “After all, we’ve been together for seven years. I still put some effort into choosing him for you.” It was a scorching August night, but a wave of absolute coldness washed over me. Ten years of knowing him. Seven years of loving him. The man standing in front of me was a block of ice that could never be melted. I took a deep breath. Suddenly, everything felt incredibly pointless. “Let’s break up. And who I marry is none of your business.” This moment came much more peacefully than I had ever imagined. I used to think that a breakup after seven years would be a screaming match, a heartbreaking tragedy. He looked slightly stunned. “Chloe, are you serious?” “Yes.” His brow furrowed, and he said softly, “Okay… thank you.” I nodded. “Pack your bags and move out tomorrow.” My eyes swept over his expensive art supplies. “Take what you need. Whatever is left over, I’m throwing it into the dumpster downstairs.” We were speaking so calmly, as if discussing what to have for breakfast tomorrow. He froze for a moment. I rubbed my temples, turned around, and walked toward the door. Suddenly, he grabbed my wrist. “Are you mad at me?” His eyebrows knit together. It was a look of slight panic. In the past, I would have reached out to smooth his brow and whisper sweet words to comfort him. But now, I just felt exhausted. “To be honest, Julian, posting something like that is incredibly disrespectful.” “If you wanted to end things, you could have just told me directly. You didn’t need to play mind games, you didn’t need to give me the silent treatment, and you definitely didn’t need to humiliate me like that. I wouldn’t have begged you to stay.” “Let’s just leave it at that. I have work tomorrow. If you’re packing tonight, keep it down.” He let go of my wrist, his face twisting into a sneer. “You’re still so materialistic. All you care about is your job and money.” “Daisy is different. She loves art, just like me.” I let out a bitter laugh. “It’s 3:00 AM, Julian. Do whatever you want, you ‘pure, noble artist’.” Whether he wanted to stay and say goodbye to his precious studio, or run straight to his soulmate—I didn’t care anymore. He seemed stung by my words. He nodded rapidly. “Fine. Fine.” As I reached the door, he called out again. “Chloe!” I wanted to ignore him, but he yelled, “Why did you ruin my painting?!” I turned around. He was pointing at the wooden frame. There was a tiny, barely visible smudge on the corner of the frame. You would have to stand inches away to even notice it. But he, just like when he discovered the split end in my hair, found it absolutely intolerable. His face was twisted with rage. “You’re jealous of Daisy! So you decided to ruin the painting I worked on for an entire month?!” “No matter how elegant you pretend to be, you can’t hide how trashy and basic your soul is!” His words were like sharp knives, aiming to peel my skin off. He called me dirty because I was a victim of an assault when I was eighteen. He called me materialistic because I drank myself to the hospital at thirty just to secure a client contract. Finally, he spat out, “You disgust me.” Cold sweat broke out on my forehead. My fingers began to tremble. I walked back over and lightly ran my finger over the smudge on the frame. He demanded angrily, “What else do you want to do?” My lips curled into a cold smile. I reached for a cup of black acrylic paint sitting on the desk and splashed it directly onto the canvas. Daisy’s pure, delicate smile vanished instantly. The entire painting became a muddy, chaotic mess. Julian froze, staring in absolute disbelief. Looking at the man whose eyes were now burning with fury, I said word by word, “Get the hell out of my apartment. Now.” “Fine! Don’t you dare regret this!” “Don’t come crying and begging me to come back!” He slammed the door behind him. The deafening bang made my heart shudder slightly. I didn’t care about the mess on the floor. I dragged my exhausted body back to my bedroom. But the moment I closed my eyes, that forum post flashed in my mind again. Someone in the comments had asked: *What do you mean by “slightly used”?* Julian had replied: *She’s not clean.* Those four words, which I had tried so hard to scroll past and ignore, were now screaming in my head. Julian thought I was dirty. I had always known that. After our very first intimate night years ago, he had locked himself in the bathroom and thrown up all night. I had curled up in bed, pretending to be fast asleep. Maybe he had started hating our relationship back then. Or maybe even earlier. My chest ached with a dull, throbbing pain. I swallowed a sleeping pill, praying for a dreamless sleep.

A new intern named Daisy joined our company. She spent her first morning handing out snacks and recommending trendy movies. Within a few hours, she was everyone’s favorite. My coworker whispered in my ear, “Ah, to be young. She’s so cute and bubbly.” I said nothing, pulling my gaze back to my laptop to prepare for the dinner meeting tonight. I never expected my manager to assign the new intern to shadow me. Before we left, Daisy asked me to wait. A few minutes later, she walked out wearing a tight, white sundress. “I am so sorry, Chloe! I accidentally spilled coffee on my shirt, but thankfully I had this dress in my bag.” She stuck her tongue out, giving me an innocent smile. At the dinner table, she kept pouring drinks for the client, praising him for being so young and successful. She knew absolutely nothing about our project, and she didn’t mention it once. The client, who was an old friend of mine, shot me a puzzled look. I kept my head down, quietly eating. Actually, it was fine. Having someone else drink all the alcohol for me at these networking events wasn’t a bad thing. But I wondered… would Julian consider his precious Daisy “materialistic” for doing this? She drank way too much. By the time we were waiting for an Uber outside the restaurant, she was swaying, leaning her entire weight on me. “Chloe, don’t worry. My boyfriend is coming to pick me up.” “He’s a genius painter. He can sell a single painting for a thousand dollars!” “He sells… like, ten paintings a month. I won’t even have to work soon.” She counted on her fingers, giggling foolishly. Then, she leaned close to my ear and whispered, “Actually, he had a girlfriend of seven years. Well, ex-girlfriend now.” “I heard she was a total pushover. So I suggested he list her online as ‘used’ for fun. Hilarious, right?” “The post went viral. I’ll Snapchat you the link later.” Seeing my lack of expression, her lips curved into a sly grin. “Chloe, I know it’s you.” “You had a pretty long night, didn’t you? Look at those dark circles.” “Once a woman hits thirty, she ages so fast…” She kept leaning closer. Annoyed, I took a step back. Without my support, the drunk Daisy lost her balance and tumbled onto the concrete sidewalk. “Daisy!” A voice gasped. It was Julian. He was wearing his signature white suit as he rushed over to help her up. When he looked up at me, his eyes were filled with pure rage. “Ruining my painting wasn’t enough? Now you’re physically attacking her?” “Chloe, I never realized you could be this pathetic and malicious.” I didn’t hesitate. I nodded. “Yes. Seeing the two of you makes me want to throw up. Get out of my sight, or I will make your lives miserable every single day.” “You paint a few pictures and actually think you’re some legendary artist? Talking about soulmates and twin flames… you’re just a cheating scumbag and a home-wrecking bitch!” His face froze. “What did you say?!” I laughed. “I’m not repeating myself. Figure it out.” He wanted to argue, but Daisy tugged at his sleeve. Her eyes were red, and she looked incredibly pitiful. “Julian, my head hurts. I drank too much tonight.” “This is my first time drinking. But what choice do I have? I’m just an intern… and I had to deal with your ex-girlfriend.” Julian gently kissed her forehead, his face turning incredibly dark when he looked back at me. “Chloe, apologize to Daisy.” I felt like I was listening to the funniest joke in the world. I turned to leave, but he grabbed my wrist with a force that felt like he was trying to shatter my bones. The pain made me gasp. He repeated, “Apologize to Daisy!” I remained silent, biting my lip until it bled. My face turned pale, and my body began to shake from the pain. Even if he broke my wrist, I would never apologize. I had done nothing wrong. Julian frowned, a flicker of hesitation crossing his eyes. Daisy noticed it. The anger on her face vanished in an instant, replaced by tears. She sobbed, “The painting is gone, and I drank all that alcohol for you. Chloe, what else do you want?” Tears streamed down her cheeks. She took a deep breath, as if making a grand sacrifice. “Just slap me!” “If it makes you feel better, and if you promise to treat me normally at work, I will gladly take a slap from you!” A surge of hot anger rushed to my head. I raised my other hand, but Julian caught it instantly. “Daisy, you’re not the one who deserves to be slapped,” Julian’s voice was cold as ice. “She is.” Both of my hands were pinned down. I watched as Daisy’s lips curved into a triumphant smirk. She raised her hand. *Slap!* A stinging pain radiated from my cheek straight to my heart. In that fraction of a second, countless memories flashed through my mind. For the first time in ten years, I asked myself: *Why did I save Julian on that rooftop?* Why did I allow myself to end up like this? I suddenly laughed, my voice hoarse. “I regret it so much.” A flicker of pity passed through his eyes. But it was quickly replaced by cold indifference. “It’s too late for regrets. When you ruined my painting and targeted Daisy, you should have known there would be consequences.” I shook my head. “No.” “I don’t regret ruining your painting.” “I regret saving your life.” His pupils contracted sharply. His heart seemed to drop into an abyss. He forced a stiff smile. “Well, you already did.” He let go of my wrists and stood there, waiting. He probably expected me to scream, throw a tantrum, or try to hit them back. But I did none of those things. I didn’t even look at him. I turned and walked away, my back straight and resolute. A black Porsche Cayenne pulled up beside me. A handsome man stepped out and opened the passenger door for me. I got in. And I never looked back.

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At the dinner table, my wife’s college junior threw an estimated cost sheet for a pregnancy right in front of my face. He announced that my wife was going to be his surrogate, and that I was expected to split the $30,000 bill for the medical fees and postpartum care. I stared at my wife in utter shock. I waited for her to tell me it was a sick joke. Instead, she slid her hand into his, looked me in the eye, and said, “I promised Julian I’d carry his baby. As my husband, it is your responsibility to split the cost. Don’t try to dodge your duties.” At that exact moment, it finally clicked. Our nine years of marriage was nothing but a pathetic joke. Some people simply belonged in the trash. The moment our families sat down at the restaurant, my wife’s junior, Julian, threw a printed sheet of paper directly at my face. He stood up, looking down at me with a smug, triumphant grin, like a rooster that had just won a fight. “Olivia has agreed to be my surrogate. The total cost from her pregnancy to postpartum care comes to thirty thousand dollars. Let’s split it down the middle.” Silence fell over the dining table. My parents, who had just been happily raising their glasses to toast my in-laws, froze instantly. I stared at my wife, Olivia, in disbelief. I prayed she would tell me this was some twisted prank. We were married. We had been together for nine years, living happily as DINKs. And now, she was going to carry another man’s child? And I was the last to know? I couldn’t believe this was real. But right in front of me, my wife was locking fingers with another man. Her eyes, when they met mine, were cold and completely detached. “Ethan, I’m getting pregnant. As my husband, you are obligated to share the expenses. Stop trying to run away from your responsibilities.” Emboldened by Olivia’s support, Julian gave me a mocking glare. Then, right in front of my face, he leaned in and kissed the corner of her lips. After that, he pulled out a printed contract. “Since Olivia is carrying my child, I have three ground rules.” “First, from this moment on, you will cater to Olivia’s every need during the pregnancy until she successfully gives birth.” “Second, after she gives birth, she will stay at my place on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays to bond with the baby. She will only come home on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. You are not allowed to get jealous.” “Third, my child will be Olivia’s sole heir and inherit all her assets. To protect the child’s inheritance rights, you must go to the clinic and get a vasectomy.” Listening to his ridiculous demands, my parents finally snapped out of their shock. My mother’s face turned incredibly pale, and she couldn’t hold back anymore. “What kind of madness is this?!” She turned to my in-laws, Mr. and Mrs. Vance. “Are you two just going to sit there and let this happen?” Julian sneered, “They’ve already approved of this.” My in-laws had taken Julian in as an adopted son years ago. Hearing his words, the two of them smiled and nodded. “Yes, we’ve known about this for a while.” My mother-in-law, Mrs. Vance, even turned to persuade me. “Ethan, you know Julian’s late father was Olivia’s mentor. His dying wish was for Julian to carry on the family line. Olivia is just helping him fulfill his father’s last wish.” “You’re an educated man. Surely you understand what it means to repay a life-changing debt?” I let out a cold, humorless laugh. “Repaying a debt? Is that what you call this disgusting, trashy affair?” Olivia’s face immediately darkened. “Ethan! This is a notification, not a negotiation!” “Julian is going to be the father of my child. If you speak to him like that again, don’t blame me for getting ugly!” I stared at her, completely appalled. “Olivia, say that again!” She rolled her eyes at me, her face filled with sheer annoyance. “Ethan, I am trying to do a good deed. Can you stop being so incredibly petty and dramatic?” “Besides, Julian is highly educated and brilliant. His genes deserve to be passed down.” “Good genes?” I laughed out loud. “By good genes, do you mean his natural talent for being a homewrecker?” Julian’s eyes instantly welled up with tears. Olivia slammed her hands on the table, standing up to shield Julian behind her. “Julian comes from a family of academics! What does a small-town nobody like you know about pedigree?” “Besides, you refused to have kids with me. Why shouldn’t I have them with someone else?” Her words pierced straight through my heart, and I smiled bitterly. Before we got married, she was the one who insisted on being a DINK. She was the one who swore she would never give birth. To support her, I agreed and even defended our choice. Over our nine years of marriage, my parents had dropped subtle hints about wanting grandchildren. I took all the heat from them just to shield her from the pressure. And now, she was using that exact choice as a weapon to attack me? At this moment, I finally saw the truth. My nine-year marriage was a joke. Since she wanted to ruin it, I was happy to tear it all down.

I stood up abruptly, kicking the heavy wooden table over with all my strength. Plates shattered, and greasy, colorful soup splashed all over Julian and Olivia. Julian screamed in panic. Olivia’s face turned green with rage. Before she could scream at me, I raised my hand and slapped her hard across the face. Then, I looked at Julian. “I’m done with this trash.” “If you want her so badly, you can have her!” “Olivia, we are divorcing!” I articulated every single word, turned around, and walked out. My parents, their faces dark with fury, stood up and followed right behind me. We left behind a chaotic mess and the humiliated Vance family. Olivia was shaking with rage, screaming at my retreating back. “Ethan! How dare you bring up divorce? Do you think I’m afraid of you?!” “Fine! We’ll divorce! Trust me, I will live a much better life without you!” I didn’t look back. I led my parents out of that restaurant as fast as possible. I wouldn’t spend another second in that toxic environment. After dropping my parents off at their house, I drove back to the suburban home Olivia and I shared to pack my things. But the moment I arrived at the front door, I froze. All my clothes, books, and personal belongings had been tossed out onto the lawn like piles of garbage. Even the digital lock on the door had been changed. I called Olivia. No answer. So I initiated a FaceTime call. It connected. But the face on the screen belonged to Julian. He was wearing my favorite silk robe, lounging on my marriage bed. His collar was draped open, deliberately showing off fresh, red hickeys on his chest. Seeing me, he raised an eyebrow, his eyes dripping with smug provocation. “Olivia and I are busy trying to make a baby. Why are you calling so late?” Before I could speak, he waved his hand. The diamond ring on his finger caught the light, and my pupils dilated. It was my wedding ring. The one I had personally designed and crafted for Olivia—a one-of-a-kind piece. Just a few days ago, Olivia had lied to me, saying she was taking it to the jeweler for a professional cleaning. I never imagined she would give it to Julian. Even the decorative picture frames on the nightstand had been replaced with intimate photos of them. Some showed them kissing, others hugging. Noticing my stare, Julian grinned widely. “Oh, sorry about this, Ethan. Olivia said this house belongs to me now. She said all the old trash needs to be thrown out, so I tossed your things into the yard.” I gripped my phone so hard my knuckles turned white. I took a deep breath. “Where is Olivia?” He blinked innocently. “Olivia? She’s in the shower.” He sighed dramatically. “You have no idea how clingy she is. She insisted on going for a second round. That’s why… I’m waiting for her.” A wave of intense nausea hit my stomach. “Oh, by the way, Olivia said since you were the one who demanded a divorce, you should grab your trash and beat it.” “After all, she was the one who bought this house.” Before I could reply, Olivia stepped out of the bathroom, coming into the frame. She was wearing a semi-sheer negligee, her neck covered in red marks. Her eyes were hazy and wet. The moment she stepped out, she snuggled directly into Julian’s arms. Julian said mockingly, “Olivia, look, Ethan is watching us.” Only then did she notice the screen. Her expression instantly hardened into a mask of pure annoyance. “Since you want a divorce, what are you doing calling in the middle of the night? This place has absolutely nothing to do with you anymore!” The fury in my chest erupted completely. “Olivia, have you lost your mind? I paid for eighty percent of this house! The startup capital for your company came from me selling two of my tech patents! Your very first client was handed to you through my personal network! Just because people call you ‘CEO Vance’ now, you think you’re a god? What right do you have to kick me out?” Olivia had been put on a pedestal for too long. No one had dared to strip away her fake mask in years. Having her secrets exposed made her face twist in rage. “Ethan, don’t flatter yourself! Everything I have today, I built with my own hands! It has nothing to do with you! If it weren’t for marrying me, a small-town boy like you would still be rotting in the dirt! For nine years, you and your family have been leeching off my success. Who do you think you are to bark at me?” My heart ached with a sharp, dull pain. Looking at her distorted, angry face, the last shred of my affection died. “Olivia, every single cent my family and I spent in the last nine years was earned by my own sweat! Without me, do you honestly think an empty shell of a woman like you could have ever reached this position?” She gnashed her teeth. “I graduated from an elite university! How dare you call me an empty shell? Do you really think the company can’t function without you? Ethan, you are nothing!” “You want to make a scene? Fine! I’ll give you what you want! Tomorrow morning, we sign the divorce papers, and you are officially fired from the company! I’m going to show you that my business runs perfectly fine without you!” “Olivia, since you want to play dirty, don’t blame me for showing no mercy.” “Get ready to watch your precious company burn.” I sneered, preparing to end the call. Olivia bounced on the bed in rage, screaming like a banshee just before the line went dead. “Ethan! Do you think you can survive in this city without me and the company?! I’ve already blacklisted you with every major firm in this region! You won’t find a single job! I will make sure you starve on the streets!” I hung up, turned around, and walked away without looking back. I had to leave. If I stayed there a second longer, I would have broken down the door and dragged those two parasites to hell with me.

The next morning, I drafted the divorce agreement and went straight to the company headquarters to find Olivia. But the moment I reached the lobby, two security guards blocked my path. I frowned. “I’m the Executive Vice President of this company…” The guard mocked, cutting me off, “What Vice President? An official notice was sent out this morning. You’ve been terminated!” “Furthermore, CEO Vance personally ordered that Ethan and dogs are not allowed inside.” I clenched my fists, a burning sensation of anger rising in my chest. Just then, Julian and Olivia walked out of the elevator together. Julian spoke in a high-pitched, sarcastic tone. “Oh, look who it is. Former VP Ethan. Why are you standing outside?” Before I could answer, he gasped, feigning shock, “Oh, I forgot! You’ve been fired by Olivia. You’re literally nobody now.” The security guards laughed along servilely. Olivia stood beside him, her lips curled in a disdainful smirk. I took a deep, heavy breath, ignored Julian entirely, and locked my eyes on her. “I’m here to finalize the divorce.” A glint of greed flashed in Julian’s eyes. Olivia sneered and slid a document out of her designer bag, handing it to me. “I’ve already had my lawyers draft the paperwork. Sign it.” I took it, and my brow furrowed as I skimmed the terms. “You expect me to leave with absolutely nothing?” According to the agreement, Olivia wasn’t leaving me a single dime. How did she have the audacity? Olivia sneered, “What else did you expect?” Julian crossed his arms. “Isn’t that obvious? This is Vance Group. Everything you used, wore, and drove belonged to Olivia’s wealth. What right do you have to take her money?” “Honestly, if you want to keep whatever dignity you have left, just sign it.” Seeing me hesitate, Olivia mocked, “I knew you couldn’t bear to let go of this luxurious lifestyle. Why act so tough last night? Ethan, if you apologize right now, agree to split my pregnancy costs, and schedule your vasectomy, I might consider letting you keep your job. Otherwise…” “No need. I’ll sign.” I cut her off sharply. I pulled out my pen and rapidly signed my name on the dotted line. Olivia’s expression hardened, clearly not expecting me to be so decisive. “Ethan, you actually…” “Olivia!” Before she could finish her sentence, Julian grabbed her hand. “Everything he has on him was paid for by you. Look at that custom-tailored suit he’s wearing, and that sports car he drove here. They cost a fortune! Those are your assets. You can’t let him leave with them!” I snapped my gaze to her. Olivia was taken aback for a second, but then a look of cruel satisfaction washed over her face. “Julian is right. The car and your clothes were bought with my money. Since you’re leaving with nothing, you don’t get to take them.” “However, if you get down on your knees, beg Julian and me for forgiveness, and sign the commitment letter Julian drafted, I’ll give you one last chance.” “Otherwise, don’t blame me for leaving you out on the street in your underwear.” My heart grew completely cold. “Fine.” I let out a harsh laugh. Ignoring the mocking whispers and stares of the employees gathering in the lobby, I took off my designer blazer, unbuttoned my shirt, stepped out of my trousers, and kicked off my leather shoes. I threw my car keys directly at Olivia’s face. “Are you satisfied now? I bought the underwear and the undershirt myself. I don’t need to strip those off for you, do I?” The keys struck Olivia’s face, leaving a red mark before clattering to the floor. She froze, completely stunned. I didn’t give her another glance. With a straight back and head held high, I walked out of the building in my plain undershirt and boxers, completely ignoring the whispering crowd. Behind me, Olivia was shaking with sheer embarrassment and rage. “Ethan! You want to play this game with me?! Fine! You’ll regret this!” For nine long years, I was always the one to cave in. I was the one who coddled her. She couldn’t understand why, this time, I refused to bow my head. I ignored her completely, hailed a taxi under the shocked stares of onlookers, and left. Since she wanted to play dirty, I was going to ruin her. Using the last of my cash, I took the cab to my parents’ house. My parents and my sister, Chloe, who had married a few years ago, were all gathered in the living room. The atmosphere was incredibly tense. Seeing me walk in wearing nothing but my underwear, my mother’s eyes instantly turned red. “Ethan… what happened? Did Olivia do this to you?” My father immediately grabbed me and pushed me toward the guest room. “Go, put on some dry clothes before you catch a cold.” Before I could say anything, Chloe let out an annoyed, loud sigh. “Ethan, seriously? Why did you have to pick a fight with Olivia? Are you not satisfied until you drag this entire family into the mud with you?” “Chloe! Shut your mouth!” my mother warned her sharply. But Chloe only grew more agitated, jumping up from the sofa. “Am I wrong? Why are you protecting him? If it weren’t for his stupid ego, would our lives be falling apart right now?” My mother’s face paled as she tried to stop her. I realized something was terribly wrong. “What happened? Tell me.”

“Nothing… nothing happened…” My mother forced a weak smile and tried to push me into the bedroom. My father was also trying to hold Chloe back. But Chloe broke free, crying out, “Dad, Mom, how long are you going to keep this from him?” “Both of you were fired from the university today! I was let go from my marketing firm this morning, and my daughter, Lily, was expelled from her private daycare! Ethan caused all of this! Why does he get to be shielded from the truth?” I froze. “What?” Chloe’s eyes were bloodshot, her shoulders shaking violently as she wept. Despite my parents’ protests, the ugly truth came out. My parents weren’t the uneducated country folk Olivia claimed they were. They were respected professors who had worked hard to secure their positions at a prestigious local university. But this morning, both of them were abruptly dismissed from their tenure under the guise of “restructuring.” Chloe was fired without cause. Even my little niece, Lily, was kicked out of her daycare. The director had called Chloe, cryptically warning her that they had offended someone with immense corporate power in the city. In this region, the only person who hated me enough and possessed that level of corporate influence was Olivia. “Ethan, please, I beg you, stop fighting her!” Chloe sobbed, her voice breaking. “Just go back to Olivia, apologize, and agree to whatever she wants!” Clearly, she had heard about the surrogacy from my parents. My father couldn’t take it anymore. “Chloe! If you say another word, you are no longer a part of this family!” “Your brother is the victim here! How can you stand there and kick him while he’s down?” Chloe was on the verge of a breakdown. “What am I supposed to do?! I worked so hard for that promotion! Lily finally got into the best daycare! Now everything is gone! I have a mortgage, a car payment, and Lily’s future to think about…” My throat felt incredibly tight, like I was suffocating. Taking a deep breath, I pulled out my phone and called my old business contacts, hoping to find a way out. I couldn’t let my family suffer for my divorce. But every single person who picked up my call sounded terrified, as if I were a plague. “Ethan, I’m sorry. Olivia made it very clear. Anyone who helps you is an enemy of the Vance Group. We can’t risk our business.” An contact at the university also whispered, “Ethan, someone filed an anonymous complaint accusing your parents of academic misconduct and ethical violations. The board had no choice.” I finally understood. Olivia was trying to strangle me and my family financially, leaving us with absolutely no air to breathe. She was utterly ruthless. Before I could process the anger, my phone rang. It was Olivia. The moment I answered, her mocking laughter echoed through the speaker. “How does it feel to taste the consequences of crossing me?” “Do you finally see how insignificant you are, Ethan? Without me, you are absolutely nothing!” “But without you, I am still the powerful CEO of Vance Group! Oh, and in case you didn’t know, we just secured a twenty-million-dollar government tech contract!” I knew exactly which contract she was talking about. It was a project I had spent six months pitching, working myself to the bone and drinking myself to a bleeding ulcer to secure. The signing was supposed to happen this week. My hard work had been handed over to her on a silver platter. And she was using it to rub salt in my wounds. I hung up the phone without a word. In the living room, Chloe’s quiet whimpering grew more painful to hear. I knew I had to act. “Don’t worry,” I said calmly. “By tomorrow, I will resolve everything.” I went to the bedroom, put on a simple t-shirt and jeans, and walked out of the house. My steps were steady, and my posture was straight. I had to let them know that the sky wasn’t falling. While waiting for an Uber on the sidewalk, I dialed a number. “Audrey, let’s meet. I’m ready to sell you those tech patents.” Olivia thought leaving me with no assets would ruin me. But she forgot one crucial thing: the core patents for the green energy project her company was developing were registered under my personal name, not the company’s. Since I was no longer a part of Vance Group, I could sell those patents to whomever I pleased. Since she wanted to push me into a corner, I was going to tear her empire down. Olivia, Julian—it was time to pay the price.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “464037”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster