Author: Momo Chan

After my reincarnation, when McVeigh’s student deliberately locked me in the MRI machine again, I neither cried nor made a scene. I simply closed my eyes calmly and slept. After all, in my previous life, because I was trapped in the MRI for six hours, I, in my anger, went to the hospital to complain about McVeigh’s student, Chloe. After Chloe lost her medical license, McVeigh hated me. He retaliated against me cruelly, as if I were an enemy, not only forcing a divorce where I left with nothing, but even when I was diagnosed with brain cancer and desperately needed him, a nationally renowned brain cancer expert, to save my life, he showed no mercy. He even warned all his former students not to treat me. Finally, penniless and nearly despairing from brain cancer, I crashed my car at the entrance of the house that had once been our marital home, ending my life. So, in this new life, sleeping for six hours in an MRI machine is nothing. It’s okay, as long as I can receive McVeigh’s treatment and survive. 1 When I opened my eyes again, it was McVeigh who woke me. He looked at me in horror. “Elle, how… how are you stuck in the MRI?” In my previous life, McVeigh also entered the examination room at this moment. However, he had been drawn by my screams. So, in that life, the moment McVeigh released me, I, having lost all reason, charged hysterically at McVeigh’s assistant, Chloe, the instant my feet touched the ground. I slapped her across the face. Chloe’s lip bled from the impact. Yet, she didn’t defend herself, only wept and repeatedly apologized. But how could I have listened then? After all, when Chloe had locked me in the MRI, she had provocatively told me: “Mrs. Thorne, you’re so annoying, always stopping the professor from teaching me how to write my papers.” “You can just reflect on yourself in the MRI machine.” With that, she left the examination room. No matter how loudly I screamed, no matter how hysterically I struggled and cried, Chloe never re-entered the examination room. So, how could I have listened to her apologies? After slapping her, I angrily accused her. “Apologize? You dare apologize to me? You deliberately locked me in the MRI for six whole hours.” “Do you think crying and saying sorry twice can make up for it?” “Chloe, you don’t deserve to be a doctor. I’m going to complain about you to the hospital. I’ll make sure you can never practice medicine again.” After roaring in anger, I rushed out of the examination room. Even when McVeigh followed behind me, trying to calm me, begging me, even threatening me with divorce if I reported her, I didn’t listen. I just angrily kicked open the door to their complaints office. Even when the head of their administration department smoothly tried to persuade me not to pursue it, I simply threatened them, saying if they didn’t fire Chloe, I would go to the reporters. Finally, I got what I wanted: Chloe was fired from the hospital. But what happened in the end…? A painful ache spread through my chest. As I lost myself in memories, McVeigh had already unfastened the restraints on me. This time, I chose not to make a scene as I had in the previous life. As I was released from the MRI, McVeigh, just like before, nervously tried to explain to me. “Please, let me explain, Elle. Chloe was just inexperienced. I happened to call her away, and she forgot you were in the examination room. She didn’t do it on purpose.” “She’s young; give her a chance to make mistakes.” I merely glanced calmly at Chloe, who had been crying since the examination room. I picked up my coat from a nearby chair, put it on, and then smiled gently and empathetically. “Don’t worry, I understand. Interns make mistakes; it’s perfectly normal.” “I only spent six hours in the MRI. I don’t feel bad; I was just tired, so I fell asleep in there.” “Oh, and I have something to do. I’m going home now.” With that, I didn’t look at McVeigh, but turned and walked out of the examination room. After all, what was there to say? In my previous life, after Chloe was fired from the hospital, McVeigh divorced me because of my “malice.” After the divorce, he went to work at another hospital, on the condition that Chloe could practice medicine there. And I? I not only received no divorce settlement, but my initial headache, which had led me to the hospital for an examination and consequently got me trapped in the MRI by Chloe, soon turned out to be brain cancer. The moment I was diagnosed with brain cancer, I immediately went to McVeigh’s hospital and booked an appointment with him. He was a national authority on brain cancer, and we had once been deeply in love. Even if he hated me, he wouldn’t truly watch me die. But to my surprise, the instant he saw me, McVeigh tore up my medical records. “You still dare to come to me? You almost ruined Chloe’s career as a doctor.” “Do you know how hard it is to study medicine? Eight years, how many medical texts do you need to memorize, how many bitter nights does that entail?” “But you? You were only locked in the MRI for six hours, and you wouldn’t let it go, almost making Chloe lose her chance to be a doctor.” At that time, my headache was severe. I could only cry and tell McVeigh that he misunderstood me. I wasn’t there to cause trouble; I was truly sick. But hearing my words, McVeigh sneered at me. “Oh, brain cancer, huh? Good. That’s what you get for your wickedness.” Afterward, to get back at me, he even called all his former students right in front of me, one by one, forbidding any of them from treating me. At the end of my life, penniless and unable to get a specialist appointment, I could only stab myself repeatedly with a fruit knife into my emaciated body. Desperate for a full night’s sleep, I swallowed dozens of ibuprofen pills. In those final moments, the pain became unbearable. I sought McVeigh out again. But by then, he was already embracing Chloe, sweetly dating and intimately kissing her in the home I had once meticulously nurtured, using the bowls I bought and the wine glasses I carefully selected. The last scene of my life was McVeigh kneeling and proposing to Chloe. And I, my head throbbing as if being torn apart by a drill, unable to bear the pain, crashed my car into the entrance of the home I had once poured all my efforts into. So in this life, what’s six hours in an MRI? Those six hours are nothing compared to life itself. 2 After leaving the examination room, I immediately went to the garage and drove straight home. Once home, I called the hospital and rebooked a full body check-up for myself. But just as I hung up the hospital phone, McVeigh, for some reason, suddenly returned. He held a bouquet of flowers and a cake. “You must have been scared today. I bought your favorite strawberry cake.” With that, he took off his suit and unwrapped the cake box. Watching the tenderness that enveloped his eyes, my chest ached again. In my previous life, McVeigh had also bought these flowers and cake, but it was to beg me to drop the complaint against Chloe. Yet, it was worth noting that McVeigh had never sent me flowers or cake since he met Chloe. He often even forgot our wedding anniversary and my birthday. That’s why in my previous life, realizing his unusual behavior towards Chloe, I had been so relentless with her. My heart ached almost to suffocation, but in an instant, I calmly smiled. “I’m sorry, my stomach feels a bit off, so I won’t eat your strawberry cake.” “And the flowers too, I don’t like red roses, so you can give them to Chloe.” I was really telling the truth. After all, I had a big medical check-up tomorrow, and keeping a 24-hour fast was essential. Flowers? They sickened me. In my previous life, when I died, when he proposed to Chloe, he had filled the villa we lived in with these very red roses. But McVeigh, frowning slightly, walked towards me. “You’re just deliberately trying to pick a fight, aren’t you?” “I have so many surgeries all day long; I’m half-dead from exhaustion, and I still have to come home to coax you. Can you please stop overreacting and dwelling on one small thing?” “I already explained to you at the hospital, Chloe is an intern; it’s normal for her to make mistakes.” “But you, you just walked out of the hospital with a sour face.” “Fine, I tolerated that, specifically bought flowers and a cake to come home and coax you, and you’re still giving me the cold shoulder.” My heart felt so weary. But I calmly met McVeigh’s gaze. “Believe it or not, I’m really not angry, nor am I being unreasonable, and I’m not giving you the cold shoulder either.” “I was in the MRI for six hours, and I’m genuinely exhausted, so all I want to do now is sleep.” With that, I didn’t look at McVeigh again, turned and went back to my room, locking the door securely. When I came out again, McVeigh was gone. Instead, my WeChat was constantly being bombarded with messages. This was Chloe’s habit. Whenever she was with McVeigh, she would continuously send me photos of her life with him. She treated me like a file transfer assistant. In my previous life, this was why I had thrown such a huge tantrum out of jealousy when Chloe trapped me in the MRI. But now, looking at the photos Chloe sent, I didn’t curse her as I usually would. Instead, I very sincerely commented: “Your phone angle is wrong. McVeigh’s side profile looks better. Remember to hold your phone higher next time when you take pictures.” “Also, look at the negative space in your photos. It should be less, so you and McVeigh can look more intimate.” As soon as I sent the WeChat message, Chloe replied. “You’ve been hacked.” I sent her a smiling emoji. “No, just wanted to let you know, McVeigh is yours.” With that, I blocked Chloe’s WeChat. This current triangular ownership situation is perfectly fine. I want the status of Mrs. Thorne, so McVeigh will treat my illness. McVeigh’s body and presence? If Chloe wants them, I’ll give them to her. Not like my foolish self in the last life, who only wanted McVeigh’s love. 3 After dealing with Chloe, I lay on the bed, calmly closing my eyes. But that night, even though I had been reincarnated, I still didn’t sleep well. Just like when I had cancer in my previous life, I kept dreaming of my past with McVeigh. When he was a child, McVeigh was often beaten by his special education teacher mother because he was introverted and didn’t like to talk. Often at midnight, when I had already slept, he would still be wearing thick glasses, doing test papers, while his mother stood by with a stick. Every time he made a mistake, his mother would raise the stick and hit him hard on the back. Living across from him, every time I saw him being beaten by his mother in the middle of the night, I felt so sorry for him. So whenever I got candy, I would secretly slip it into his backpack on the way to school, then smile and say to him, “McVeigh, when your back hurts, eat one.” The first time I gave McVeigh candy, his face flushed red. It wasn’t until I had run a hundred meters away that he stammered in a low voice, “I… I don’t eat candy.” And I just waved back with a smile. “McVeigh, you should talk more, your voice is really nice.” After that, it seemed to become a habit. McVeigh, who had always been a loner, got used to waiting for me, and used to me slipping candy into his backpack. And so, in that small alley outside our neighborhood, McVeigh and I walked through countless springs, countless summers, countless winters together. Until he was 18, McVeigh, who got into a top university as the county’s top scholar, nervously handed me a school number, pushing up his glasses. “I looked up this school. It’s very close to mine, only a ten-minute walk. Your scores aren’t enough for a bachelor’s degree, but you could do an associate’s degree.” I looked at his awkwardness. I didn’t tell him that my parents had an emergency meeting the night before, after getting my college entrance exam scores, saying that even if I had to go to a third-tier university, I had to get a bachelor’s degree; our family could afford it. After that, I secretly changed my college application without telling my parents. Even though the ultimate price was a beating from both my mother and father, I never regretted it. Later, McVeigh and I went to university in the same city. His life, after leaving his mother, seemed to take a miraculous turn. He removed his thick glasses and put on contacts, changed his buzz cut to curly hair, and even his fashion began to change. He shed his plaid shirts for white ones. His perpetually black sneakers became white athletic shoes. I didn’t know why McVeigh had undergone such a transformation until I once again shrieked with excitement because my favorite celebrity was coming to my university city for a concert. McVeigh, with reddened eyes, grabbed me. “I’ve become the person you like for you, but you still can’t like me?” The word “like” hammered into my chest like a heavy blow. Even though we attended different schools, I had heard of McVeigh’s legend: a medical genius, who at only freshman year had apprenticed under a nationally renowned neurosurgeon. By his sophomore year, he was interning at a hospital through his mentor’s recommendation. And because of his sudden change in appearance, a group of women even created a forum dedicated to documenting McVeigh’s transformation. I had always thought there was an ocean between us, and we would forever remain just friends, but then McVeigh told me he liked me. Being the thick-skinned person I was, I didn’t think twice before rising on my tiptoes and impulsively kissing McVeigh. After that, we started dating. My main focus became feeding McVeigh all sorts of bubble tea, sweets, and desserts that I liked. I had no life plan; every day was either about figuring out what McVeigh would eat, drink, or what we would do for fun. McVeigh’s life, meanwhile, continued its miraculous trajectory, publishing multiple papers during his graduate studies. Immediately after earning his doctorate, he was recruited by a prestigious top-tier hospital. In stark contrast to McVeigh’s life, my own seemed to be cursed afterward. I failed to transfer from my associate’s to a bachelor’s degree. After graduating from college, I lived solely on McVeigh’s allowance. Even my parents, who had adored me since childhood, tragically died in a car accident on their way to visit me in the hospital for pneumonia two years after I graduated. As an orphan, I cried until my tears soaked their bodies. McVeigh, kneeling beside my parents’ corpses, swore to me in his mother’s gloomy, hateful gaze that he would take care of me for the rest of his life. McVeigh and I got married. I had multiple miscarriages; each pregnancy ended in loss. Until later, Chloe became McVeigh’s assistant. He started to disdain me, calling me shallow. All I did all day was ask him what to eat and drink. Unlike Chloe, who could talk about medicine and surgeries with him. My eyes welled up with tears. When I opened them, I realized the day had already broken. And just like in my previous life, my pillow was soaked with tears. Just then, McVeigh’s WeChat message came through. “Going to the nursing home to see my mom this afternoon.” 4 Seeing McVeigh’s message, I calmly replied, “I’m busy today, no time.” McVeigh immediately called. “What are you doing today?” “Elle, how many times do I have to tell you, Chloe and I have nothing going on. Why do you insist on clinging to a small issue and not letting it go?” Hearing McVeigh mention Chloe again, a sneer touched my lips. McVeigh, ever since becoming a doctor, had grown accustomed to speaking concisely. This was the first time he clung to an issue so stubbornly. So, was he trying to convince himself that he hadn’t developed feelings for Chloe, or was he trying to lessen his guilt towards me? My chest ached with a tremor, but I calmly explained to McVeigh again, “McVeigh, I’m not feeling well. I need to go to the hospital for a check-up. I truly can’t accompany you to see your mom today.” “Also, your mom has a heart condition, and she’s always disliked me. Isn’t it better if I don’t go to the nursing home and upset her? And doesn’t your mom really like Chloe? She says only someone of Chloe’s status is worthy of you. Just let her go with you.” I truly meant well in advising McVeigh, but to my surprise, McVeigh lost his temper again. “Elle, just keep acting out.” With that, he hung up. Listening to his abrupt hang-up, a sneer once again crossed my lips. See? This is the difference between love and not love. After all, the McVeigh who once loved me would frantically ask if he’d done something wrong to upset me whenever I showed even a hint of a wronged expression. But now, the McVeigh who no longer loves me still thinks I’m being unreasonable, even when I genuinely offer advice.

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My father’s company was facing a cash flow crisis, so I went to my ex-husband for help. Seeing me approach, he put down his documents and looked at me intently. “We’ve been divorced for three years. What makes you think I’d help you?” I pointed to my slightly rounded abdomen: “This baby inside me.” He chuckled at that. “Scarlett Goldsberry, if you’re going to lie, at least come up with a better reason. Whose child takes three years to be born?” At his words, I scoffed, turning to leave before he could say another word. But who would have thought, that very night, my phone wouldn’t stop buzzing. [Hey, you still there? I was actually drunk earlier today. I didn’t mean what I said.] [You wanted to borrow money, right? I’ll agree. And I’ll consider the child too.] [Why aren’t you saying anything? Don’t you want my money anymore?] “Please, I beg you. I’ll raise the child—just don’t go looking for anyone else, okay?” 1. The day my father told me our company was facing bankruptcy, I happened to run into Chris Davies. He was impeccably dressed in a sharp suit, exuding an air of powerful confidence. A swarm of hopeful investors circled him, showering him with praises. He was a stark contrast to the skinny, blue-and-white uniform-clad boy I’d known years ago. To gain his favor, some sycophants chugged their drinks; others subtly slipped him photos and hotel key cards, their faces alight with suggestive smiles. Chris, however, politely but firmly declined each overture. Those rebuffed didn’t dare show anger, merely resuming their obsequious grins. “Mr. Davies has impeccable taste; common gold-diggers certainly won’t catch his eye. And speaking of poor judgment, those who once overlooked true talent are definitely getting their comeuppance now.” Before Chris could even open his mouth, someone nearby chimed in. “Who are we talking about? The Goldsberrys, perhaps, on the brink of ruin?” “Who else would have such terrible foresight, casting aside a talent like Mr. Davies?” As the other party in their little conversation, I stood not far off, taking it all in. Chris Davies and I were high school classmates. Back then, I was Scarlett Goldsberry, the Goldsberry family heiress, while he was a struggling student whose family barely scraped by on recycling to pay his tuition. But there was no heartwarming tale of me coming to his rescue. In fact, I often teased and bossed Chris around. Even with the demanding high school curriculum, I’d order him to write my notes and do my homework. I found him attractive, so I didn’t let up in college either, constantly making him run errands for me, and practically coerced him into marrying me before graduation. A few years into our marriage, the novelty wore off, and I filed for divorce. Who would’ve thought that three years later, Chris’s company would skyrocket, while our family business spiraled, teetering on the edge of collapse? Chris’s expression remained unperturbed by their taunts, leaving his admirers unsure of his mood. I secretly breathed a sigh of relief. At least he wasn’t openly mocking me after hearing about my misfortunes. Chris was still a decent man. That meant there might still be a glimmer of hope. I’d tried to schedule a meeting with him to secure an investment, but his secretary always claimed he was too busy. My only shot was to corner him at tonight’s gala. Finally, I caught Chris alone as he headed to the restroom. I simply waited by the door, and the moment he emerged, I rushed forward. “Chris Davies, I need to talk to you!” The man, who had been washing his hands, met my gaze in the mirror before quickly averting his eyes. He didn’t speak until he’d finished, meticulously drying his hands with a paper towel. “What is it?” “Can we find somewhere private to talk?” “No, I’m busy.” His dismissive tone made me even more anxious, but given the urgency of my situation, I didn’t care that we were standing outside a restroom. I blurted out, “Our company has a promising project. I was wondering if you’d be interested in investing.” “Why on earth would I invest in your project?” 2. I expected him to at least ask about the project, but instead, he uttered that cold, almost petulant remark. “For old times’ sake.” “What old times?” My lips trembled, and after a long silence, I finally spoke. “Chris… hey, hey, don’t walk away!” Seeing him turn to leave, I quickly blocked his path. Chris’s assistant appeared just then, handing him a document. He signed it with swift efficiency, finally sparing me a glance. “We’ve been divorced for three years, Scarlett. What makes you think I’d help you?” Considering how ugly our divorce had been, it was a testament to his character that he wasn’t mocking me now, but actually speaking to me. But I was out of options. After much thought, I pointed to my slightly swollen abdomen. “This child.” His assistant’s eyes widened, darting between Chris and me. Chris’s face grew darker and darker. Just as I thought he was about to explode and walk away, he forced a smile. “Scarlett Goldsberry, if you’re going to lie, at least come up with a better reason. Whose child takes three years to be born? Do you think he’s some kind of mythical hero?” I was about to explain, but he cut me off. “You haven’t forgotten how you treated me back then, have you? You pressured me into marriage, then forced a divorce when my feelings were strongest, playing me like a fool. Are you still trying to make a fool of me?” Chris’s voice grew louder, and people around us started to stare. My face burned, and I wished I could vanish into thin air. “Can you believe Scarlett Goldsberry still has the nerve to approach Chris Davies?” “Seriously, she forced him to marry her back then, almost drove his mother to her grave, and now she’s shamelessly begging for a partnership.” “If I were Chris, I’d kick her out.” I stood frozen as the whispers around me intensified. Meeting Chris’s gaze, I finally conceded defeat, turning to leave before he could say anything more. That evening, back home, my father eagerly asked about the situation. I could only sigh in defeat. “Maybe you should send Chris another message?” “No, it’s no use. He made himself perfectly clear.” Besides, even though I’d unblocked him, there was no guarantee he hadn’t blocked me. Why torment myself further? Before bed, I scrolled through my social media. Under a picture I’d posted yesterday of scattered documents, captioned, “Life’s a tough climb,” my childhood friend, Leo Green, had just commented. “I heard about your family’s situation. Don’t panic, I’ll help you.” Knowing his family couldn’t solve my current predicament, I joked, asking if he’d won the lottery. Leo immediately replied, “What’s to be afraid of? Worst case, I’ll just tell my parents I’m getting married and make them foot the bill. You can help me spin the story.” I chuckled at his cheeky remark, finally feeling a little lighter. Just as I was about to turn off my phone, a flurry of messages popped up. [Hey, you still there? I was actually drunk earlier today. I didn’t mean what I said.] [You wanted to borrow money, right? I’ll agree. And I’ll consider the child too.] [Why aren’t you saying anything? Don’t you want my money anymore?] [Please, I beg you. I’ll raise the child—I don’t care if he’s a hero or a demon—I’ll raise him. Just don’t go looking for anyone else, okay?] 3. I stared at the messages, rubbing my eyes, seriously wondering if Chris’s account had been hacked. Before I could react, Chris’s call came through. “Are you asleep? Did you see my messages? I’ve thought about it. I’ll raise the child.” “And the investment…” “No problem, I’ll invest thirty million tomorrow. But I have one condition.” I took a deep breath, telling myself that no matter how harsh the condition, I had to agree. This was our family’s only chance. “What condition?” “Tomorrow morning at nine, meet me at City Hall. We’re getting married.” I froze, repeating it incredulously. “Married? Us?” “That’s right. Technically, we’re remarrying. Bring all your documents. See you at City Hall.” Chris’s call kept me awake almost all night. The next morning, I asked my dad for our family record book. He immediately clutched my arm, wailing. “Oh, Scarlett, please don’t! I know I failed you, running the company into the ground, but you can’t disown your own father because of this!” “I’m not disowning you.” “Then why do you need the family record book? You’re not trying to sever our father-daughter ties, are you?” I lowered my head, silent for a moment, then spoke softly, “I’m going to remarry Chris Davies.” My dad gasped, taking a step back. “Scarlett, you really don’t have to go this far for me. You broke up with him back then; Chris probably hates your guts. He might even torment you.” “It’s fine. I accept it.” With low marriage rates, City Hall had no queues. Chris and I arrived at nine, and within half an hour, the paperwork was done. As I held the marriage certificate, I felt a moment of unreality. How did I end up back with him? I opened the certificate, feeling the official seal was slightly crooked, and turned to ask the clerk. “Excuse me, this…” “Once you’re married, there’s no going back.” Before I could even ask, Chris grabbed my wrist, pulling me out of City Hall. I hadn’t had a chance to speak when his phone rang in his pocket. “Chris, where are you right now? I brought you breakfast, but everyone at the office said they haven’t seen you.” It was Penny Miller’s voice. I couldn’t believe she was still clinging to Chris. They were childhood friends, I remembered Chris introducing me to his friends years ago, and Penny’s face had fallen. Then, when we got married, Penny had gotten so drunk at the wedding she almost crashed her car on the way home that night. I looked up. The person on the phone was still whining, asking for Chris’s location. He remained unfazed, speaking softly into the phone. “City Hall.” “Scarlett and I remarried.” 4. Penny Miller was fast. Chris and I had barely sat down for breakfast at a nearby diner when she burst in, rushing over to our table. “Chris, did you really remarry?” Penny was panting, her eyes wide with disbelief. Her gaze darted between us, finally zeroing in on me. “It’s all because of you! Everyone knows your family’s about to go bankrupt, and you still want Chris to clean up your mess! You’re so heartless!” I said nothing, merely looking at Chris. His teacup was set down on the table with a soft clink. Penny instantly shut up, nervously watching Chris. “This is my business, Penny. It has nothing to do with you.” “But…” She started to protest, but Chris cut her off with a look. After getting our marriage certificate, we each headed back to our respective companies. Before leaving, Chris gave me a gate code, telling me to move into his house today. “Today? Already?” “Can you call a couple who doesn’t live together a couple?” I was speechless. Penny, beside me, was fuming but dared not speak. So, that day, I packed my things and moved to Chris’s address. But Chris didn’t come home that night. The social circle was small. A few inquiries quickly told me Chris was at a bar. Someone sent me a video: Chris was in a booth, drinking, with Penny chattering incessantly beside him. “Chris, why did you suddenly get married? What’s so great about Scarlett Goldsberry anyway?” “You’re not leaving tonight.” Chris tilted his head, avoiding the drink she offered, but didn’t argue with her words. Oh, so that’s how it is. All men are the same, aren’t they? Get a wife, then leave her hanging. Without a word, I marched straight to the bar, kicked open the door, and the music in the private room screeched to a halt. “Chris Davies, home!” I glared at the startled man on the couch, ignoring everyone’s strange looks, and practically dragged him to his feet. “I’m telling you, a married man needs to act like one. From now on, if you’re not home by eleven, don’t bother coming back.” As I tugged his tie, preparing to leave, someone nearby rushed to stop us. “Wait, wait, let’s just sit down and talk this over nicely.” The person blocking us had a cigarette clutched in their hand, its smell, mixed with alcohol, made me want to gag. “Snuff that out.” Without a second thought, the person flicked the cigarette into an ashtray. Penny, seeing this, shot up from her seat. “Scarlett Goldsberry, what’s your deal? Why does everyone have to listen to you?” “Because I’m pregnant, and any decent person wouldn’t smoke in front of a pregnant woman, right?” Everyone’s faces changed, and they immediately looked at Chris. Chris calmly said, “My apologies, everyone. My wife is here to pick me up, so I need to head home. Also, any gatherings that won’t finish by eleven, please don’t invite me.” I was extremely pleased with Chris’s prompt understanding. I dragged him out of the bar. But we had barely walked a few steps when Penny came running after us from behind. “Wait, Chris, how could you? Don’t you remember? Today’s my birthday!” So it was Penny’s birthday. No wonder it was such a lively gathering. “Stop! Scarlett Goldsberry, have you no shame?” Penny rushed forward, blocking our way, her gaze fixed on my stomach. “You’re pregnant and you still married Chris? Don’t you think that’s incredibly unfair?” “Oh really? I don’t think so.” I even glanced at Chris. “He knows I’m pregnant too.” 5. Penny froze, her face a mask of disbelief. “What? Chris, you know she’s pregnant?” “Yes, I know.” Penny fell completely silent. I was putting Chris into the car, about to leave, when she, still not giving up, ran to block us. “Scarlett Goldsberry, everyone knows you’re only with Chris for his money. Beggars can’t be choosers, so why are you acting so arrogant and bossy?” I leaned against the car door, smiling at her. “Well, Chris hasn’t said anything, has he? He hasn’t demanded that I grovel. And he was the one who initiated the marriage, you know.” As Penny’s face grew paler, I made sure to deliver the crucial blow. “Oh, and by the way, he chose to remarry me, not be with you.” Penny swayed, her eyes red-rimmed as she looked at Chris. “Why? Chris, don’t you understand how I feel about you? She’s carrying someone else’s child; don’t you care?” Chris remained silent, but I saw his clenched fists. He turned, his gaze sweeping over my face, then my stomach, before quickly looking away. “I don’t care.” A simple sentence, carried away by the wind, yet it struck a heavy blow to Penny’s heart. She stumbled back a few steps, collapsing to the ground, and finally burst into tears. Unfortunately, my only response was to ruthlessly close the car door and drive away. To be honest, I was just as perplexed about Chris wanting to marry me again, so I couldn’t help but ask him. “Why did you marry me?” There was no reply. The man beside me seemed to be asleep. I turned my head to look at him, meeting his gaze, so I asked again. “Why did you marry me?” “To make you regret it.” I raised an eyebrow, puzzled, waiting for him to elaborate. “Scarlett Goldsberry, you’ll see the difference between our two marriages. I’ll make you regret divorcing me.” “What kind of differences exactly? Tell me, so I can prepare myself.” Chris scoffed. “Before, I’d buy groceries and cook right after work. I’m telling you, that’s not happening anymore. I’ll hire a housekeeper, and you’ll never eat my cooking again.” “And I’ll go out once a week and won’t be home until ten-thirty. I won’t sit with you every night at eight to watch those cheesy soap operas.” “Also, I won’t cut your peeled apples into slices anymore. And those strawberries you love, where you eat the tip and I eat the bottom? From now on, you’ll eat the whole thing.” What… “vicious” punishments. I was too stunned to speak. Chris glanced at me triumphantly. “Hmph, scared now, aren’t you? This is the price for insisting on divorcing me.” It did sound quite terrifying. But compared to Chris wanting us to sleep in separate rooms, it was nothing. After we got home, Chris glanced at my belongings in the master bedroom, then, without a word, grabbed a pillow and blanket and went to another room. In the dead of winter, as a married woman, my bed was ice cold. The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. I barely slept that night, waking up with dark circles under my eyes. Chris had already left for work. I was sitting at the dining table, eating breakfast, when the housekeeper suddenly answered a call. “Hello? Did Mr. Davies leave a document in the study? Oh, okay, I’ll bring it over?” Hearing her, I put down my breakfast and offered, “Why don’t I take it?” It would be a good opportunity to check on the investment process at his company. On the other end of the line, Chris scoffed. “No need, I’ll send someone to pick it up.” But I didn’t expect that ‘someone’ to be Penny. As I opened the door, our eyes met. “How are you here?”

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He became a billionaire mogul, but I still acted like a spoiled brat. I treated him like a male model and a servant. Tonight, As Alan, his face dark, pushed hard, I suddenly saw comments scrolling: [Great, the antagonist is finally getting pregnant this time!] [The protagonist is an OB-GYN, and the antagonist, along with her brain-damaged son, are just tools to facilitate the protagonist couple’s romance.] [The male lead is finally divorcing to have a sweet romance with the protagonist!] I shuddered. I quickly pushed him away: “Stop!” “Stop it now!” 01 I pushed too hard. Alan, half-propped up, lost his balance and fell onto the bed. His custom-tailored shirt slid off. Revealing his sculpted chest. Pale. Seductive. A million times better than any male model’s physique. But a brain-damaged son? Absolutely not! I quickly looked down. Thank goodness. Not yet. I breathed a long sigh of relief. Alan got up, a slight frown on his face. His amber eyes, set in his distinguished, calm, handsome face, looked at me curiously. “What’s wrong? Not feeling well this time?” “We can try again.” Terrified, I quickly shook my head. “No, no, it’s fine.” “It’s getting late. You’ve had a long day. Let’s just get some rest.” Alan’s expression darkened a bit. A flicker of displeasure crossed his face. But quickly. He recomposed himself. “Alright, I’ll go downstairs and make up my bed then.” Go downstairs to make his bed? Where? I was confused. Then it dawned on me. When we first got married, I despised Alan for being dirt poor, only able to afford a cramped basement apartment, and a bed that was only a twin size. Every night after we were done, I’d kick him off the bed to sleep on the floor. I’d hog the entire bed. Over time, it became a habit. Even now that he was a successful entrepreneur, had moved into a huge mansion, and our bed was a luxurious king-size. I still preferred to have the entire bed to myself. Yet I wouldn’t let him sleep in the guest room next door, because I’d get scared at night. So he still slept on the floor in my room every night. Thinking of this. I felt a little guilty. No wonder the later plot had him falling in love with someone else. Who could endure such constant exploitation? [Why did it stop at the crucial moment? Did the antagonist have a change of heart today? Didn’t she used to cling to the male lead every time, treating him like a male model, forcing him to try different positions over and over again?] [So how is she going to get pregnant today? If she doesn’t get pregnant, when will she meet the protagonist?] [It stopped, it stopped. The male lead can get some rest. It’ll be the same if she gets pregnant next time.] [But next time, will it still be a brain-damaged child?] [Who knows…] I watched the comments for a while. Only then did I confirm that the “antagonist” they were referring to was indeed me. It sent another chill down my spine. Next time? Absolutely no next time! 02 The next morning. When I woke up, Alan was already up. The bedding on the floor had been neatly folded and put away. I quickly got dressed and out of bed. I removed my bedding from the bed, then carefully spread out his bedding on the bed. Then meticulously tidied it for him. After that, I tiptoed with my own bedding to the smallest guest room, furthest from the master bedroom. I thought to myself, I can’t cling to Alan for intimacy every day anymore. Nor can I make him sleep on the floor. Giving birth to a brain-damaged son or being kicked out of the mansion after divorce. I wanted neither. [What trick is the antagonist trying to pull now? Is she tired of sleeping in the master bedroom, so she’s slumming it in the tiny 100 sq ft guest room?] [The antagonist even made the male lead’s bed in the master bedroom. Is she planning to make him sleep on the floor in that small guest room after they’re done? Is she not even willing to give him his bedding now? That’s so evil!] [This terrible plot is infuriating. Every time they’re intimate, we only see the male lead and antagonist’s faces. We’ve paid money, why can’t we see? If he’s sleeping on the floor in the small guest room without bedding, won’t we finally get to see the male lead’s perfect body?] I ignored the misunderstanding in the comments. I was just annoyed that they were trying to peek at Alan’s body. He was my man. Why should they get to see him? After tidying the guest room. I went downstairs. Just in time to see Alan, wearing a pink apron, meticulously preparing breakfast in the kitchen. Sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating his broad-shouldered, long-legged back. Casting a perfect, domestic glow around him. I’d stared blankly at that physique countless times. Such a perfect man, and he was mine. But now. He was about to not be mine. Thinking this, my chest suddenly felt tight. A little ache. Seeing me come downstairs, Alan looked a little surprised. “Up so early today?” “Breakfast will be ready soon. I’ll go to the bathroom and prepare your wash water and toothpaste in a bit. You can sit down and wait for now.” I quickly shook my head and waved my hands. “No, no, it’s fine.” “I’ll wash my face and brush my teeth myself. You don’t need to prepare it for me.” With that. I rushed to the bathroom without stopping. Afraid that Alan really couldn’t stand me anymore. And would ask for a divorce. Of course. I was also afraid that after a divorce, I’d lose my mansion, my luxury car. My quality of life would plummet. Alan stood in the kitchen with the spatula. Watching my hasty retreat into the bathroom, he paused for a few seconds. Soon. I came back in a hurry. Looking at the half-prepared breakfast, I swiftly took the spatula from Alan’s hand. “You don’t have to get up early to make breakfast anymore.” “I’ll do it from now on.” [Hahahaha, so funny, the antagonist wants to get up early to make breakfast. Can that lazy pig even get up?] [Exactly. It’d be a miracle if she got up three days a year. The male lead is just too sentimental, too soft-hearted. The antagonist, relying on the fact that she was with him when he was poorest, demands he serve her like a servant every day. The male lead actually endured it for five years. If it were me, I’d have slapped her a long time ago.] [It’ll be great when the male lead meets the protagonist! Our protagonist is excellent at everything, both in public and at home. While her career is soaring, she also takes very good care of the male lead’s daily life. This kind of marriage is what successful men crave.] Alan, puzzled, gently touched my head. “What’s wrong with you?” “Are you feeling unwell?” I quickly interrupted him. Shaking my head so hard it almost came off. “I’m fine.” “I just feel really bad. You work so hard every day to earn money and support the family, and you still have to make breakfast for me.” “I want to learn to be self-sufficient from now on.” I thought to myself, if I’m more attentive. And sincerely apologize for my past haughtiness and immaturity. Even if he’s annoyed with me, even if he doesn’t love me anymore, even if he meets the so-called protagonist, he surely wouldn’t have the nerve to abandon his faithful wife, right? After all. His first pot of gold in his startup. Came from me selling the only house my parents left me. So even if he were to abandon me. Perhaps because of my good attitude, he’d compensate me with more money. Ensuring my quality of life. Perhaps it was because I’d acted on too many impulses before. Alan’s puzzled expression only lasted a few seconds. After I finished talking about self-sufficiency. His handsome eyes darkened. His voice, tinged with what sounded like regret, softly said, “Alright then.” “Whatever makes you happy.” 03 Evening. Alan arrived home promptly, according to the schedule I had set for him. He dutifully stepped through the front door with his right foot first. This was also one of my old rules. I belatedly realized how recklessly I had behaved in the past. After entering, Alan, holding freshly bought groceries, prepared to go to the kitchen to cook. But as he reached the dining room, he was surprised to find that I had already prepared dinner. I feigned domesticity. “Alan, come eat.” “I made your favorite braised fish.” “Try it and tell me if it’s good.” Alan sat down tentatively. He asked me anxiously, “What’s wrong with you today?” “Did you… did you put aphrodisiacs in the food?” I was speechless. I didn’t know how to explain, and for a moment, I lost my temper, huffing, “Yes, I did. Are you going to eat or not?” After realizing what I’d said, I immediately felt guilty and regretted it. I wished I could slap myself. Terrified, I quickly shut up and focused on eating. Alan said nothing more. He ate his meal diligently. Half an hour later. The dishes on the table were completely cleaned by the two of us. But Alan didn’t feel the effects of any supposed drug. Instead, he noticed I was gone first. He assumed I had gone back to the bedroom, so he followed. But upon returning to the bedroom. Alan was surprised to find his bedding neatly laid out on the bed. I was still nowhere to be found. Alan was puzzled, his head full of questions. He searched every room, finally finding me in the smallest guest bedroom. By then, I had already showered and snuggled under the covers. Alan entered the room. He half-knelt by my bed, asking softly, “Why are you here?” “Am I supposed to sleep on the floor here tonight? My bedding is on the master bed. Can’t I bring it in here?” I quickly shook my head. “No, no need for that.” “From now on, the big bed in the master bedroom is for you. I’ll sleep in this small room. This way, we can both get good rest.” Alan froze, unable to believe his ears. His handsome eyes watched me deeply. The tear mole at the corner of his eye was utterly captivating. His face darkened. He asked me in a cold voice, “Are you saying I wasn’t… diligent enough last night?” “Didn’t satisfy you?” “If not, I’ll make up for the positions we missed last night, tonight.” His tone was cold. But I clearly saw. His eyes held a restrained anticipation. And his hand slowly, honestly, unbuttoned his shirt. If this were before, I would have succumbed to that tempting sight and pounced on him. But now, I was terrified. I instinctively shrank back into the corner of the wall. Make up for what? Make up for a brain-damaged son? No, no. “Alan, get away.” “Get away now.” 04 Alan froze. He looked at me in disbelief. His eyes held confusion, shock, anger. And a hint of something barely perceptible, Disappointment? I cowered in the corner. Clutching my small blanket tighter. “Um, it’s getting late, and I’m pretty sleepy.” “You’ve had a long day too, you must be tired. Go back to sleep. Get some good rest. Goodnight.” [Is the antagonist crazy? She’s refusing to be intimate with the male lead? Didn’t she used to demand he use at least 108 different positions every night?] [It’s just playing hard to get. She’s so insatiable, how could she not? I bet she won’t last a minute before grabbing him, clinging to him and refusing to let him go.] [Exactly. I remember one time the male lead came back from a business trip after midnight, and the antagonist exploded. The male lead transferred thirty million to her and coaxed her for an hour, just to barely appease her. Even then, she punished him by making him try non-repeating positions all night!] [The male lead hates being intimate with her the most. He always does it with a dark face, just to avoid being clung to all night again. That’s why he comes home on time every day.] Alan was still standing there. Motionless. His tall, upright figure stood rooted like a statue. After a long silence. He finally turned and left, his face cold. Several seconds later. Once I was sure he was far away, I tiptoed out of bed. And quickly locked the door. The moment the lock clicked, the worry that had been weighing on my heart finally eased. I touched my stomach and breathed a long sigh of relief. Perfect. Safe, safe. [Huh? The antagonist is crazy! Not only did she not call out to the male lead, but she also locked the door?] [Something’s wrong. Shouldn’t the male lead be happy right now? After all, he doesn’t have to disgustingly humor the antagonist anymore. Why does he seem a little disappointed?] [The male lead isn’t disappointed. He’s suppressing his inner joy, not wanting the antagonist to see that he dislikes her.] [Why isn’t the protagonist getting pregnant yet? When is the protagonist going to appear? I can’t wait.] [Good things come to those who wait. The protagonist will definitely appear soon. Even if the antagonist can hold off tonight, I don’t believe she can hold off tomorrow night.] Outside the bedroom door. Alan’s footsteps suddenly stopped. He instinctively looked back. He heard the click of the guest room door locking. The unease in his heart grew stronger. From being pushed away last night, to taking the initiative to wash up this morning, and eagerly preparing breakfast and dinner. It all felt wrong. Alan couldn’t help but let his mind race. What is Scarlett trying to do? She’s never been like this before. Is she bored? Does she want a divorce? Thinking this. His expression grew even more despondent. 05 For the next while. I was looking for a job. Although Alan gave me a lot of money, and being a stay-at-home wife was comfortable and free. But before I saw those comments. I never realized my so-called freedom was built on Alan’s pain. I was reluctant to divorce. Reluctant to leave such a perfect man. But I had to find a fallback plan for myself. Before his disgust completely erupted. … According to the time I’d set on the job app, I arrived at a company in the east of the city for an interview. The interviewer was a chubby, middle-aged bald man. Everything was going well. He asked about my desired salary. I said five thousand. He suddenly sneered. “Do you think just because you’re somewhat attractive, you’re some high-society lady who doesn’t understand the struggles of the common people?” “You haven’t worked in five years, and you graduated from a mediocre university. You want five thousand a month? Are you dreaming?” I was shocked. Only five thousand. Is that a lot? It was precisely because I hadn’t worked in years that I didn’t dare ask for more. Before I met Alan, I earned eight thousand a month. Back then, Alan was just a poor graduate. He had nothing. I was a low-level worker bee who had already been working for a year. But I also had no money. The first time I saw Alan, the young man had clear eyes, a tall and lean figure, standing there, he was more dazzling than any movie star. I fell hopelessly in love. No one knew. The basement apartment we rented when we were dating, I actually paid for it. I dared to act the way I did because he truly treated me well. I could feel his intense and abundant love, and I was certain he wouldn’t leave me. That’s why I was so unrestrained. Three meals a day, cleaning, laundry, making the bed, organizing the wardrobe, bathing, even washing his feet and massaging his back. Alan took care of every single detail for me. Since my parents passed away when I was eight, It was the first time I dared to live so freely, like a giant baby. It wasn’t that I didn’t face criticism. I greedily indulged in such beauty. Like being intoxicated in a dream I didn’t want to wake from, I probed further, grew bolder. My demands became more excessive. But no matter how excessive I was, Alan never said no. Later. Alan started his own business. Seeing him struggling to raise money everywhere, I gritted my teeth and sold the only property my parents had left me in my hometown. Alan held me and cried for a long time that day. But he succeeded. In just one year, he multiplied the money I gave him tenfold. I remember very clearly. That day, he transferred all five million he had earned to my name. He reverently handed me the bank card. As if completing the signing of a contract. “Scarlett, marry me.” He bought flowers and a diamond ring, proposing grandly. And so. We moved out of the basement. And got married. 06 From then on. I quit my job and became a full-time wife. Alan’s company took off like a rocket. In just a few years, it grew from a small startup to an industry leader, successfully going public. Then it became a phenomenal and popular major company, a household name. Our little home also slowly changed from a three-bedroom apartment to a large condo. And now, to this grand mansion. Alan also became busier and busier. The smiles on his face grew fewer. I don’t know if I wanted to hold onto him, to prove that he still loved me as before. Or if I simply enjoyed being served and cared for by him. After he became a billionaire mogul, I didn’t rein myself in; instead, I escalated my demands. Thankfully. Although Alan was busy, he was willing to fulfill my unreasonable requests. I originally thought this was a sign that he still loved me. A sign that our love hadn’t soured. But I never imagined that Alan was already at his limit with me. I know it’s my fault, I was too much. But thinking about this. My heart still felt heavy. Like a large stone was pressing on my chest. It hurt so much.

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My best friend Luna was riding with me for the holidays. Before leaving, my husband Alex warned me quietly, “She’s pregnant. We can’t let anything happen to her. Whatever you do, don’t let her drive.” On the highway, exhaustion set in. Luna offered to take over, but remembering Alex’s warning, I refused. I pulled into a rest stop to rest briefly. I woke to find the car wrecked on the highway. Luna was pale, blood filled the air. Clutching her stomach, she screamed, “My baby’s gone!” Both our husbands rushed over. Through tears, Luna blamed me, saying I drove while exhausted. Alex then showed a video of me driving with my eyes closed, accusing, “I never thought you’d try to kill her. You’re a murderer.” Before I could defend myself, Luna’s husband Mark dragged me out and beat me to death on the roadside. After dying, I learned the truth: Alex had taken out a large life insurance policy on me. He and Luna had been having an affair. When I opened my eyes, I was back—one day before the trip. … “Jasmine, you can’t let Luna drive, you hear me?” Alex said, his face a mask of concern after learning I was giving her a ride home tomorrow. “A pregnant woman behind the wheel… if anything happened, we could never live with ourselves.” “You be careful too,” he added. I nearly choked. To think I had actually been reborn. Looking at Alex’s face, a wave of nausea washed over me. In my last life, he and Luna had set a trap that led to my brutal end. I mumbled a few noncommittal replies, got dressed, and headed out. Leaving the house, I drove straight to a local car rental agency. In my previous life, Alex must have tampered with my car. I didn’t have enough time to find proof, so swapping it out was the next best thing. Luckily, I found a rental that was the exact same make and model as mine. As I left the agency, a message from Luna popped up on my phone, telling me to pick her up at eight tomorrow morning. I replied with a simple “Okay.” The next morning, at eight o’clock sharp, I was parked outside Luna’s building. She kept me waiting for a full half hour before finally sauntering downstairs. As she got closer, I caught a whiff of her heavy perfume. “Jasmine! I’m so excited we get to drive home together,” she gushed, handing me a thermos. “You must be freezing. I brought you some hot water to warm you up.” I stared at the thermos, not taking it. In my last life, I’d been so worried about drowsy driving that I went to bed early. There was no reason I should have been that tired. Thinking back, the crushing fatigue had set in right after I drank the water Luna gave me. Seeing my hesitation, Luna’s smile tightened. “Jasmine, don’t tell me you’re turning your nose up at my water.” I thought for a second, then took it and sipped. “Of course not,” I said with a forced smile. “Get in.” She seemed pleased that I’d drunk it. As she moved to put her bags in the trunk, I turned my head and spat the water I’d been holding in my mouth onto the pavement. But when Luna opened the passenger door, she froze. “Jasmine, who is this?” A man I didn’t know was sitting in the passenger seat. He gave her a little nod. “Oh, this is Phillip,” I said quickly. “He’s catching a ride with us.” I’d posted in a local rideshare group yesterday, and he was the only one who’d responded. I wasn’t bringing him along out of the goodness of my heart; I wanted a witness. Luna pulled me aside, her voice a harsh whisper. “Jasmine, are you crazy? Letting a total stranger in your car? What if something happens on the road?” “Don’t worry,” I said, patting my chest reassuringly. “Phillip’s a decent guy. I’ve already seen his ID. Besides, it’s just a few hours. What could happen? And a little extra gas money never hurts.” Luna was still not having it. “I’ll cover the gas. Just tell him to leave. I’m not comfortable sharing a car with a strange man.” I feigned annoyance. “Luna, what is this, the dark ages? I already promised him a ride. I can’t just kick him out now.” Seeing I wouldn’t budge, she gave up and tried to switch seats with Phillip. “Excuse me, could we trade? I get carsick in the back.” “Sorry, I get carsick too,” Phillip replied without missing a beat. Luna paused, then turned back to me. “Oh, I forgot something,” she said, and ran back upstairs. A few minutes later, she returned, got in the car, and handed Phillip two small pills and a bottle of water. “I have some motion sickness medicine. Here, take this.” Phillip took them, studied her for a moment, and said, “Thanks.” He then tipped his head back and swallowed the pills. Luna visibly relaxed as she watched him take the medicine. I, on the other hand, noticed her perfume seemed even stronger now, almost cloying. Once we were on the road, Phillip quickly drifted off to sleep. And just as we hit the main highway, my own eyelids felt like they were lined with lead. A few minutes later, Luna tapped my shoulder. “Jasmine, did you not sleep well last night? This is so dangerous.” I rubbed my eyes. “I’m fine,” I said, my voice thick. “Let me drive,” she insisted, her voice laced with worry. “You’re scaring me.” “It’s okay, you’re pregnant,” I waved her off. “I can push through.” Beside me, Phillip stirred. “Just let her drive,” he mumbled. “Fatigue kills.” This time, I agreed immediately. I pulled the car onto the shoulder, and Luna and I switched places. Sitting in the back, I pinched my thigh, trying to force myself to stay awake, but the drowsiness was like a tidal wave, pulling me under. I don’t know when I finally fell asleep. The next thing I knew, a voice was screaming in my ear. “Jasmine! Jasmine, help me! My baby! My baby is gone!” The thick, metallic scent of blood clogged the air. I forced my eyes open. I was in the driver’s seat. The car was smashed against the guardrail. In the back seat, Luna was howling, clutching her stomach. It was happening all over again. Luna’s screams startled Phillip awake. He looked at me, his face a mask of confusion. “Didn’t you two switch? When did you get back in the driver’s seat?” I wanted to ask the same question. Luna had been driving when I passed out. How did I end up back here? But there was no time to figure it out. Phillip was already on the phone, dialing 911. The police and an ambulance arrived quickly. All three of us were taken to the hospital. On the way, I called Luna’s husband. After Luna was wheeled into surgery, Phillip tried to leave. “You can’t go,” I said, blocking his path. He looked me up and down. “I have places to be. I was just a passenger. Her accident has nothing to do with me, right?” “It has nothing to do with you, and it has nothing to do with me,” I said, pulling two water bottles from my bag—the ones Luna had given us. “I need you to do me a favor. Take these to a lab and have them tested for any sedatives. I’ll pay you a thousand dollars.” Phillip’s eyes widened, but he still shook his head. “It’s not about the money. I don’t have time. Find someone else.” Facing another refusal, I played my last card. My eyes filled with tears. “The truth is… that woman is having an affair with my husband. I think they’re trying to set me up.” Phillip’s expression hardened instantly. He took the water bottles. “Don’t worry,” he said, his voice firm. “I’ll get to the bottom of this for you.” Not long after Phillip left, Luna was wheeled out of the operating room. I walked over. “How are you?” She shot me a look of pure hatred and started sobbing, a performance that continued until her husband, Mark, and my husband, Alex, arrived. The moment she saw Mark, her sobs intensified. “Honey, our baby… our baby is gone! It’s all my fault! I couldn’t protect our child!” Alex rounded on me. “Jasmine, what the hell happened? I told you to be careful!” I looked at him calmly. “What are you doing here?” “Luna was in your car when this happened!” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Of course I had to come!” I gave a small, humorless laugh. “Is that so? Funny, I don’t remember telling you about it. How did you know?” Alex flinched, suddenly flustered, stammering as he tried to come up with an excuse. Before he could, Mark grabbed a handful of my hair. “You killed my son,” he snarled, “and you have the nerve to smile?” He shoved me hard, sending me sprawling out of the hospital room door. Mark was a man with a notoriously short fuse. I landed hard on the floor, a sharp pain shooting through my tailbone. Inside the room, Luna’s wails grew louder. “Jasmine Taylor! I warned you not to drive tired! Why didn’t you listen? Did you want to kill my baby? You give me back my child!” I watched the scene unfold with cold detachment, waiting. It was Alex’s turn to play his part. In my last life, his video had been the “proof” that sealed my fate. It showed me driving with my eyes closed, ignoring Luna’s pleas to pull over, before I supposedly snarled, “Shut up! You think being pregnant makes you special? Go to hell with your damn baby!” and swerved the car. Sure enough, just as Mark’s face darkened with rage, Alex stepped forward, just like before. “Jasmine, how can you be so twisted? You were always going on about how you were jealous of Luna’s pregnancy, how you wanted to get rid of her baby. I thought you were joking. I can’t believe you actually did it.” His words were gasoline on a fire. I could see the rage building in Mark’s eyes, his face flushing a deep red. A primal fear gripped me as I remembered how he had beaten me to death. Forcing myself to stay calm, I scrambled to my feet. “That’s a lie, Alex. Luna losing her baby has nothing to do with me. I wasn’t even the one driving at the end! She crashed the car herself! She wanted to get rid of her own child!” My words sent a shockwave through the room. Luna shrieked, “Jasmine, are you insane? You’d say anything to save your own skin, wouldn’t you? Why would I crash the car on purpose? Do you have any idea how hard I worked to have this baby?” It was true. Luna and Mark had tried for five years before she finally got pregnant. She’d subjected herself to endless herbal remedies and countless injections. Once pregnant, she became a recluse, avoiding anything that could possibly harm the baby, even giving away the dog she’d had for years. The idea that she would intentionally cause a miscarriage was something Mark would never believe. He didn’t speak, just stared at me, his eyes promising violence. Luna pressed her advantage. “Jasmine, I know you’re scared because of what happened, but you can’t pin this on me! You were in the driver’s seat, I was in the back! The police and the paramedics saw us! They can back me up! My blood is all over the back seat!” The commotion had drawn a crowd, including a couple of nurses. After confirming one of them had been on the emergency call, Mark asked her coldly what she had seen. “The patient was indeed in the back seat when we arrived,” the nurse confirmed. Luna clung to this like a lifeline. “You hear that, Jasmine? I was in the back. So please, explain how I crashed the car from the driver’s seat and then somehow swapped places with you while you were sleeping like the dead.” She turned to Mark, her face a mask of wounded innocence. “Honey, losing the baby is hard enough. But for her to slander me like this… I don’t want to live anymore. I just want to die.” With that, she tried to lurch off the bed and run headfirst into the wall. Mark caught her, holding her tight, his eyes dark with a brewing storm. After he had calmed her down and settled her back on the bed, he turned to me, his voice dangerously low. “You said she did this on purpose. Why? Why would she kill our child?” I knew if I didn’t tell the truth now, my previous life was about to repeat itself. I pointed a shaking finger at Alex. “Because those two have been sleeping together for a long time. Because Alex took out a massive life insurance policy on me. They wanted to get rid of you and me so they could be together, and they sure as hell didn’t want your baby getting in the way.” The room fell silent for a beat. Both Alex and Luna’s faces went pale. Alex recovered first. “Jasmine, you’re acting like a rabid dog, just biting at everyone. There is nothing going on between me and Luna. We’re just friends.” He pulled out his phone. “Jasmine, we were married. I didn’t want to show this to anyone. But since you’re making these wild accusations, I have to show Mark the truth. This is from the dashcam in your car. You know damn well what you did.” The video was identical to the one from my last life, with one exception: Phillip was in it. My eyes widened. “You’re saying this is from the dashcam in my car? Are you sure?” “Of course I’m sure,” Alex said with absolute certainty. “Don’t you remember? Your dashcam is linked to my phone. I can access the recordings anytime.” I saw Mark’s fist clench, ready to swing. I decided to drop the bomb. “There’s just one problem. This time, I wasn’t driving my own car. The car Luna and I were in was a rental. How could my dashcam possibly have this footage?”

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The day Aurora Croft won the Global Philanthropist of the Year award was the day my doctors told me my time was up. I couldn’t afford another artificial heart. On television, the host asked Aurora to call the person she had the most regrets about. Without a moment’s hesitation, she dialed my number. I answered, and her voice, cool and distant, came through the speaker. “Do you ever regret leaving me for money all those years ago?” I glanced at the mountain of bills for the heart transplant I couldn’t afford and let out a soft, hollow laugh. “Aurora, you’re so rich now. How about you lend me, say, thirty thousand dollars?” The line went dead. On the screen, I watched Aurora turn back to the host, her expression like ice. “I have no regrets.” She had no idea. When her heart was failing, I was the one who secretly gave her mine. 1 After the live broadcast ended, a transfer for thirty thousand dollars hit my account. I stared at my phone for a long moment, a complicated knot tightening in my chest. I paid the medical bills. As I settled back into my hospital bed, I heard a familiar voice drift in from the hallway. I peeked through the crack in the door and saw her. Aurora. Seven years, and it was as if time hadn’t touched her. She was still as radiant and captivating as ever. The only thing that had changed was the person by her side. It wasn’t me anymore. The awards gala had just ended, and she hadn’t even had time to change, rushing straight to the hospital. All because her new boy toy had a minor stomachache. I watched as she cradled Chase’s head in her arms, her touch so tender. I lowered my gaze, about to quietly shut the door and pretend I hadn’t seen anything. Suddenly, the door was yanked open. I flinched, my head snapping up to meet her gaze. Her eyes, sharp and cold as shards of ice, swept over me. “It’s been a while,” she said, her voice dripping with frost. “Aren’t you going to say hello?” I looked at her, my lips parting. A thousand words crowded my throat, but they all boiled down to one thing. “Aurora… can you lend me another fifty thousand?” She froze for a second, a flicker of raw anger igniting in her cold eyes. She grabbed my hand, her grip surprisingly strong. “Seven years, Silas. This is all you have to say to me?” The dense cluster of needle marks on my wrist throbbed with a dull, persistent pain. I took a deep breath. “Ms. Croft, you’re a very wealthy woman. If I didn’t ask for money, I was afraid your boyfriend might get the wrong idea.” A look of confusion, something complex and unreadable, flickered across her face. Before she could speak, Chase tightened his grip on her arm. “Darling, is this your ex-husband?” he asked, his tone dripping with pity as he looked me over. “What can you even do with fifty thousand? Aurora bought me a suit that cost more than that.” He sighed dramatically. “It’s a shame, Silas. You didn’t know how to appreciate her. If you hadn’t heartlessly abandoned her, I never would have had the chance to meet her.” I said nothing, my mind drifting back. I met Aurora in college. We fell in love, and for five years, we were inseparable. Back then, she wasn’t a billionaire CEO, and my body wasn’t this fragile wreck. We were just two orphans, two broke students who had finally found the one person who mattered most in the world. We worked ourselves to the bone, dreaming of building a small home of our own. Just as our small business was starting to take off, Aurora was diagnosed with severe heart failure. The treatment and transplant would cost a fortune. We drained every penny of our savings, everything we’d poured into our dream. To raise the money, I worked multiple jobs, ate one meal a day, and stretched every dollar until it screamed. I pushed myself to the breaking point, just to scrape together enough for her medicine, switching to the cheapest, lowest-quality generics we could find. But a compatible heart never came. I watched her waste away, growing thinner and more fragile with each passing day. Just as I was about to lose all hope, my doctor pulled me aside. They had found a perfect match. The person who was a perfect match for Aurora… was me. 2 My thoughts snapped back to the present. Aurora stood on her tiptoes to kiss Chase’s forehead, her eyes filled with an endless well of affection. “If it wasn’t for his heartless betrayal, how would I have ever met my little angel?” she cooed. “That thirty-thousand-dollar wallet you were looking at? I’ll buy it for you when we get home. Next time, pick something more expensive. Your woman can afford it.” Watching them, the stinging on my wrist seemed to shoot straight into my chest, the pain so sharp it stole my breath. I wrenched my hand free from Aurora’s unyielding grip, having no desire to be the broken measuring stick against which they proved their perfect love. As I turned to leave, Chase casually stuck out his foot, tripping me. “Whoa, watch your step, Silas!” he exclaimed with false concern. I fell to my knees, the medical reports in my hand scattering at Aurora’s feet. Seeing me fall, her face tightened, and she instinctively reached out to help me up. But Chase grabbed her arm. “What’s this?” he asked, his eyes wide. His question drew Aurora’s attention to the papers on the floor. She picked one up, her eyes scanning it quickly. “Artificial Heart Replacement…” A flash of fury crossed her face. She flung the report at me, the paper striking my cheek. “Silas! I can’t believe you’d stoop this low, faking an illness for money! You’re the same as you were seven years ago. All you’ve ever cared about is money!” I pushed myself to my feet, my gaze fixed on Aurora’s healthy, vibrant form. A faint smile touched my lips as I silently gathered the scattered reports. “Ms. Croft, you know how much I love money. Why not lend me a little more?” Chase, ever the actor, looked like he was about to cry. He shook Aurora’s arm, but the look he shot me over her shoulder was pure mockery. “Darling, what if it’s real? And… it was only after Silas left you that you received that heart from that kind donor! Maybe we should help him, please?” His words seemed to remind her of my “betrayal,” of how I had abandoned her for money. The flicker of doubt in her eyes was instantly extinguished, replaced by a glacial coldness. “The heart of a kind person can’t save someone so heartless. He doesn’t deserve it.” She turned, pulling Chase with her. He continued to plead my case, but as he glanced back at me, the corner of his mouth curved into a vicious, triumphant smirk. I bent down and picked up the medical report, now covered in Chase’s dusty footprints. Suddenly, my artificial heart gave a shudder, a mechanical tremor that didn’t belong in a human body. My vision swam, and the figures of Aurora and Chase blurred into indistinct shapes. After a long moment, I wiped a trickle of blood from the corner of my mouth, my eyes tracing the words “Artificial Heart Replacement.” My fingers drifted to my chest, brushing over the scar that had been etched there for seven long years. Even now, Aurora had no idea. The heart beating in her chest… was mine. 3 Seven years ago, with no suitable donor heart in sight, Aurora’s body was giving out. The technology for artificial hearts was still experimental. In theory, it could sustain life, but the risks were enormous. When I was confirmed as a match, I gave her my heart. I took the artificial one—a model with a theoretical lifespan of seven years. To save money, I chose the cheapest one they had. Ever since, a sharp, stabbing pain would periodically flare up in my chest. Coughing up blood and sudden bouts of weakness became my new normal. And because I never had the money, the surgery to replace the failing device was delayed again and again. Now, seven years had passed. The artificial heart in my chest pulsed with its seventh wave of agony. I knew it was well past its breaking point. … I left the hospital and went back to my rented room. It was small, damp, and freezing in the winter, sweltering in the summer. But it was cheap. This was the same place Aurora and I had lived, the place where we had mapped out our entire future together. After learning my heart was a match for hers, I had pretended to be a greedy, social-climbing parasite. I drew up divorce papers and told her I was leaving. We had been together for five years. Through all the hardship, I had never once complained, never once thought of leaving her side. She knew how much I loved her, and she couldn’t believe I would abandon her. And I knew she loved me to her very core. If she knew the truth, she would never, ever allow me to trade my life for hers. To save her, I had to be cruel. I had to pretend I’d had enough. Enough of the endless struggle. Enough of a life with no hope in sight. Enough of cheap medicine, one meal a day, drinking cold water to stave off hunger, and splitting every dollar in two. I told her I was done with all of it. I’ll never forget that day. The girl who was always so strong, who faced pain and hardship without flinching, cried for the first time. She signed the divorce papers with trembling hands, her tears staining the cheap paper. And on a different form, an organ donation agreement, I signed my name. After the surgery, I vanished from her life, branded a traitor. I returned to the small room we had shared for five years, and I waited for the death I had willingly embraced. I never thought I would see her again. Now, she had soared to heights we had only dreamed of. And I… I could never go back. Watching her on the news, so confident and full of life, a pang of sorrow twisted inside me, quickly followed by a quiet sense of relief. My phone rang, pulling me from my thoughts. It was the bank. They informed me that the thirty-thousand-dollar transfer had been a “mistake” on the sender’s part. I was required to return the funds immediately or face legal action. I hung up, a bitter smile on my face. What was there to say? After a moment of silence, I called my buddy, Ben, and asked him to help me find a job. I had to pay her back. Aurora hated me so much. The idea of me, the man who only cared about money, having to work off a debt in installments… she would relish it. She would watch me slave away until I dropped. Because of my heart, my body was weak. Most jobs were out of the question. I scraped by on whatever odd jobs I could find. Ben knew my situation and found me a gig as a server at a banquet. It was relatively easy work, and it paid five hundred dollars a night. As I put on the uniform, adjusted my mask, and began serving drinks, I saw her again. 4 She was breathtaking in a designer gown, a vision of elegance and grace. Chase stood beside her in an expensive suit, looking sharp and poised. They held onto each other’s arms, a perfect couple, surrounded by a crowd of admirers. I glanced once, then immediately looked down. Aurora took a glass from my tray without recognizing me. I was about to turn away when Chase spoke, his voice sharp. “Hey, watch what you’re doing! You spilled wine all over my suit!” I froze, noticing for the first time a dark, wet patch on his jacket. I didn’t say a word, just lowered my head and tried to dab at the stain with a napkin. Aurora watched me, her brow furrowed, her lips pressed into a thin line. A malicious glint appeared in Chase’s eyes. He suddenly kicked me, his foot connecting squarely with my chest. A bolt of agony shot through me. I collapsed, a pained gasp escaping my lips. “Don’t touch me with your filthy hands!” he spat. “Security! Get this trash out of here!” His face was a mask of fury, but he couldn’t hide the triumphant smirk playing on his lips. Though only my eyes were visible, in that split second of eye contact, Aurora knew. Her lips trembled, and a flicker of… something, maybe pain, crossed her eyes before it was consumed by a wave of pure scorn. She held up a hand to stop the approaching guards and then ripped the mask from my face. “Silas. Don’t you even say hello to your ex-wife?” Chase feigned shock. “Silas? Is that you? But… you’re Aurora’s ex-husband. What are you doing working as a waiter?” The entire hall seemed to fall silent. Every eye in the room was on me. Then, the murmurs started, growing into a chorus of ridicule. “I heard he abandoned her for money when she was sick…” “Ugh. What goes around comes around.” “Serves him right, ditching a woman like Aurora Croft only to end up a waiter!” Someone threw their red wine at me. The liquid splashed over my head. Then another glass followed, and another. Wine rained down on me from all directions, the glasses shattering as they hit my body. Crimson wine and scarlet blood mingled on the floor. It was clear these people were eager to curry favor with Aurora by putting her heartless ex-husband in his place. Blood trickled down my forehead, but I felt nothing. I remained silent. Aurora stared at me, her eyes filled with an unconcealed coldness. “What’s wrong, Silas? Cat got your tongue? Or do I have to pay you to speak now?” A wave of derisive laughter rippled through the crowd. “You took this job to get my attention, didn’t you?” she continued, her voice like steel. “To beg me for more money? Fine. I’ll give you what you want.” She had someone bring over a dozen bottles of expensive red wine and open them all. “Drink every last one of these, and I’ll give you fifty thousand dollars.” She threw a stack of cash on the ground. The bills landed in the puddle of wine and blood at my feet. Her face was a frozen mask of contempt. The entire room watched, their faces full of mockery, enjoying the spectacle. … Ever since the surgery, my body had been frail. I couldn’t lift anything heavy, couldn’t run or jump. Even walking a short distance left me gasping for breath. For me, alcohol wasn’t a recreational substance; it was a poison. A single drop could cause my artificial heart to fail. I lifted my head and looked at her. A weak smile touched my lips, and I finally spoke. “And the thirty thousand… I don’t have to pay that back, right?” Aurora’s expression faltered, a surge of fresh fury rising in her icy eyes. I could hear the sound of her grinding her teeth. “Fine.” Her answer was all I needed. I smiled, grabbed a bottle, and started chugging. My body, already on the brink, rebelled. The harsh liquid burned my throat, and I gagged, nearly throwing it all up. I forced it down and reached for the next bottle, and the next. Everyone watched me, their faces alight with cruel amusement. Only Aurora’s expression began to change, her face growing darker, more clouded with every bottle I emptied. As I reached for another, she finally snapped, her hand clamping down on my wrist. “Silas, would you actually die without money?!” I looked into her blazing, bloodshot eyes and nodded. “You’re right. Without money, I will die.” She shoved me away in a fury. “Good! Then drink it all! Drink until you’re satisfied!” My body felt like it was weighted down with lead. The artificial heart in my chest seemed to have stopped beating altogether. I smiled, took a shallow breath, and lifted another bottle. Aurora couldn’t take it anymore. She snatched the bottle from my hand, letting out a raw, animalistic scream. “ENOUGH!” My body finally gave out. I crumpled to the floor, landing in a pile of shattered glass. The sharp edges bit into my skin, staining the ground a deeper shade of red. The commotion brought Ben running. He saw me, his face contorting in horror, and rushed to my side. He helped me up, then turned and screamed at Aurora, his voice cracking with anguish. “He gave you his heart! He’s been living with an artificial one all this time! He can’t drink, don’t you get it? It’ll kill him! Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

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My shift ended late, so I split a rideshare with a coworker. The second we got in, the driver started giving us a weird, twitchy once-over. “You ladies have it good, huh? Working in a place like the Apex Tower, you must be rolling in it. Not like me, breaking my back for peanuts.” I remembered the horror stories I’d seen online and immediately started laying it on thick. “Don’t even get me started. We’re just contract workers. I take home maybe twenty-eight hundred a month, and my boss treats me like dirt!” The driver’s expression softened a little, and he even muttered a few words of sympathy. But then my coworker piped up. “That’s not true at all! Our Ivy is a total winner. Graduated from a top university, makes a six-figure salary, and her parents are both professors. The biggest hardship she’s ever faced was probably a bitter iced Americano!” The driver’s face contorted with rage. “Goddamn it, I can’t stand you people born with a silver spoon in your mouth!” He floored it, sending the car plunging off a cliff. Amid the explosion, I was blown to pieces. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the office. My coworker, Hailey, walked up to me with a smile. “Ivy, I called a car. Let’s go home together!” 01 The memory of the heat tearing my body apart left me drenched in a cold sweat. A low groan escaped my lips, and a colleague next to me called out in concern. “Ivy, are you okay?” My eyes shot open. I felt like I had just clawed my way back from hell. I… wasn’t dead? I patted my arms and legs, all blessedly intact, then glanced at the time on my phone. It was real. I was alive. The first thing I did was grab my bag and make a run for it. “Weren’t you going to finish that report before you left?” my coworker, Mark, asked, looking puzzled. I shook my head vigorously. Who cares about a report when your life is on the line? “Hey, wait,” Mark called out. “There’s a number I can’t figure out. Can you take a quick look? The client’s in a hurry.” I had no choice but to go back and quickly sort it out for him. But that small delay was all it took. A chillingly familiar voice, like the sound of my own doom, echoed from behind me. “Ivy, I called a car. Let’s go home together!” It was Hailey. Hailey was an intern who had started in the spring, and I was assigned to mentor her. She was diligent and sweet-talking, but she had a fatal flaw: no filter. Our department head was dealing with a classic bald patch and one day showed up wearing a toupee. Hailey immediately rushed over to compliment him. “Mr. Davison, you look so young today!” Before he could even smile, she added, “The hairpiece really suits you! Without it, everyone says you look like an old bald coot!” Mr. Davison’s face fell. “Is that so?” he asked, his smile frozen. “When do they say that?” Hailey whipped out her phone and showed him our private team chat group. “See? Just today, someone was asking if the ‘old bald coot’ was coming in!” That incident got every single person in the group called into his office, and our promised heatwave holiday was canceled. We had to apologize to our innocent colleagues one by one and walked on eggshells for weeks. Another time, I took Hailey to a client meeting. The client was picky, and we revised the proposal seven or eight times before finally getting it approved. As we were leaving, Hailey chirped happily, right in front of the client, “That’s great! Ivy, you’re so experienced. You just used the first draft, and they didn’t even notice!” The client blew up on the spot, stormed into our boss’s office, and our entire team’s bonus went up in smoke. Three months of work, all for nothing. After that, I started keeping my distance. There’s a saying: a fool’s impulse can cause more damage than a villain’s calculated plot. I knew Hailey’s unfiltered mouth would get someone seriously hurt one day. I just never thought it would be me. 02 Company policy stated that only full-time employees could get reimbursed for rides home after working overtime. Our office was notorious for late nights. Hailey lived in the same direction as me, but her place was closer. Since I had to take a car anyway, I’d often give her a lift if we finished late. To her credit, Hailey was always considerate. Whether I called a car or hailed a cab, she’d handle the receipt and give it to me, making sure it was no trouble on my end. And so, just like before, she had called a car and asked me to join. But as soon as I got in, I knew something was wrong with the driver. His eyes would go vacant for a moment, then snap into a wide, intense stare. His mouth moved silently, as if he were muttering to himself. What sent a real chill down my spine was the way he kept watching us in the rearview mirror. I wanted to tell him to keep his eyes on the road, but it was late, the streets were empty, and he was clearly unstable. I didn’t dare start a conflict. My plan was to get out with Hailey at her stop and then call another car for myself. It wasn’t long before he started talking to us. “Life’s not fair, is it? I work my ass off every single day, and you women just sit in an office, all dolled up, making easy money. I swear to God, I just want to die and be reborn as one of you.” His tone turned aggressive. “Hey! You work in the Apex Tower, a place like that… your salaries must be huge, right?” His words were laced with resentment. I remembered a rule I’d read online: when dealing with someone unstable, you de-escalate. You never, ever flaunt your good fortune. So, I started complaining. “You have no idea, sir. We’re just contract workers. I make maybe twenty-eight hundred a month, and even then, my boss acts like he’s overpaying us. He makes us work overtime for free and yells at us constantly. Honestly, I envy you. You’re your own boss, working for yourself. That’s real freedom.” His expression softened slightly. He nodded at me in the mirror. “Huh. Guess it’s not easy for anyone.” As he spoke, his eyes fell on my wrist. My heart leaped into my throat. It had been hot in the office, so I’d pushed up my sleeves, revealing a new bracelet I’d bought. The driver’s eyes narrowed. “That’s a nice bracelet. Must’ve cost a fortune.” Stay calm, I told myself. Don’t let him see you’re scared. I casually flicked my wrist. “This old thing? Looks flashy, right? It was a 9.99 knockoff from some website.” This time, the tension in his face completely dissolved. The hostility in his eyes faded. Just then, Hailey chimed in. “Oh, Ivy, I remember that bracelet! It’s the new one from Cartier, right? The 18-karat gold one that costs over sixty thousand? You’re so rich!” As her words hung in the air, the driver’s jaw clenched so hard the muscles in his cheeks bulged. Hailey, seemingly oblivious, continued to sing my praises to him. “Our Ivy here has it all! Master’s degree from a top university, six-figure salary! Her parents are both professors, and she has a childhood sweetheart who adores her. The biggest hardship she’s ever faced was probably a bitter iced Americano!” “That’s enough!” I yelled, a cold sweat breaking out on my forehead. With every word Hailey spoke, the driver’s gaze grew more menacing. He looked at me as if I had murdered his entire family, as if he wanted to tear me limb from limb right then and there. The car was approaching Hailey’s apartment complex. I threw the door open, ready to bolt. But Hailey, in a sudden fit of madness, shoved me back inside. “I know you think you’re better than everyone, but you don’t have to yell at me! So I hitched a ride with you, what’s the big deal? I won’t do it again, okay?!” She slammed the door shut. At the same instant, I heard the click of the central locks. In the rearview mirror, the driver’s face was a mask of pure, unadulterated rage. “Goddamn it, I can’t stand you people born with a silver spoon in your mouth!” He stomped on the accelerator, and the car shot forward. A few minutes later, it smashed through the guardrail on the mountain road and plunged off the cliff. With a deafening roar, I saw my own body being blown to pieces. 03 Remembering this, my face turned to ice. “I’m not going home tonight,” I said to Hailey, my voice flat. “You go on ahead.” She wrung her hands, a sheepish grin on her face. “Come on, Ivy. It’s the end of the month, and my wallet’s empty. Wherever you’re going, can’t you just drop me off on the way?” My patience snapped. “I already told you, it’s not on the way! What does your empty wallet have to do with me?” My shout was loud enough to turn the heads of the few colleagues still working. Hailey’s face fell, and her eyes welled up with tears. “I just graduated. My salary isn’t much, and I was just trying to save a little money. Why are you yelling at me…?” Her damsel-in-distress act made it look like I was bullying her. Mark was the first to jump to her defense. “We’ve all been there, Ivy. Hailey didn’t mean any harm. If you don’t want to give her a ride, just say so. There’s no need to humiliate her.” My blood boiled at the sight of him. If he hadn’t stopped me earlier, I would have been long gone, and Hailey would have been a distant memory. “If you’re so compassionate, why don’t you give her a ride?” I retorted. “I told her it wasn’t on my way. Is she deaf, or just stupid? Does she not understand the words ‘not on my way’?” I was generally well-liked at the office, and as a supervisor, I had some seniority. The other colleagues, except for Mark, started to side with me. “Yeah, Ivy already said she’s not going that way. Why are you clinging to her like a leech?” “Giving you a ride is a favor, not an obligation. Stop with the pity party.” Seeing that the tide had turned against her, Hailey burst into tears. “I know I’m just a newbie! I can’t compete with a supervisor like you! You don’t have to gang up on me! I’ll go by myself!” She ran out of the office, sobbing. I finally let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. I waited another half hour, figuring she would be home by then, before calling a car and heading out. As I settled into the back seat, all I could think about was a long, hot shower to wash away the day’s bad luck. Suddenly, the other car door was yanked open, and Hailey scrambled in. I was stunned. “What are you still doing here?” She pouted, pressing her palms together in a gesture of apology. “I’m sorry about earlier, Ivy. Please don’t be mad. Let’s just go home!” A creeping sense of dread washed over me. Even if she was desperate to save a few bucks on a ride, would she really wait outside for me for over half an hour? Unless… My heart pounded in my chest. I leaned forward to look at the driver. A familiar, malevolent face turned to look at me. “You work in the Apex Tower, a place like that… your salaries must be huge, right?” It was him. The same driver. An icy terror seized me. I had deliberately waited, changed the timing… how could it still be him? Was I going to die again? The primal fear of being blown apart urged me to flee, but Hailey suddenly grabbed my arm, her grip like a vice. “Where are you going, Ivy? Let’s go home.” Her voice was a soft whisper, like a demon at my ear. 04 While we struggled, the driver had already started the car. A thousand thoughts raced through my mind. The driver’s eyes fell on my wrist, and he asked the same question as before. When I just stared down and said nothing, he exploded. “What’s your problem? You think you’re too good for me?” Right on cue, Hailey started her spiel. “My friend Ivy here is a total winn—” “Shut your damn mouth, you idiot!” I roared, cutting her off. “Your breath stinks. Did you have dinner in a toilet? I called this car. Did you pay? Then what gives you the right to get in? And you!” I rounded on the driver. “I ordered a private car. Why did you let this freeloader in? Is she paying you?” They say it takes a monster to beat a monster. Some people, when they see you’re polite and well-mannered, will just push and push. Show them a flash of aggression, and they back down. My outburst seemed to stun him. The rage simmered down a bit, and he focused on driving. “Ivy, why are you being so rude?” Hailey said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “The driver was just being friendly. You don’t have to be so disrespectful. Or is it because you come from a rich family, you look down on everyone else?” The driver’s hands tightened on the steering wheel, and he shot me a venomous glare in the rearview mirror. I crossed my arms and sneered. “My family has nothing to do with you. Compared to a broke loser like you, everyone’s a millionaire. At least this driver has a car. You can’t even afford the fare. Why are you even alive?” Hearing this, the driver actually cracked a small, self-satisfied smile. To my surprise, Hailey dropped her sweet-and-innocent act. Her face twisted into a sneer. “Yeah, I’m not as rich as you. But at least I’m a good person, not a show-off! When everyone else orders Dunkin’ for the office, you have to get Starbucks. Just to flaunt your money, right?” She was talking about the time our boss asked me to order Starbucks for a client, and I bought some for the rest of the team as well. “You pretend to be so down-to-earth, but you secretly look down on all of us, don’t you? You have a closet full of LV bags at home, but you come to work carrying some crappy canvas tote. You think that makes you look humble? You’re a fake!” Something clicked in my mind. The canvas bag was a designer brand, just one Hailey didn’t recognize. But that wasn’t important. What was important was… how did she know I had a closet full of designer bags at home? Seeing my silence, she continued her tirade, turning to the driver. “Her parents are both professors at a top university. And what a coincidence, she got into that same university. You’d have to be an idiot to believe there wasn’t some string-pulling involved.” I scoffed. “If your dumb ass could get into a decent college, did your parents pull some strings for you? They must be pretty important people. It takes a lot of power to rig college entrance exams. My parents are just law-abiding citizens. Not nearly as impressive as yours.” “Shut up, both of you bitches!” the driver suddenly screamed, his whole body starting to shake. “One more word and I’ll kill you both!” He started banging his head against the steering wheel. When the driver threatened to kill us, I saw a flicker of excitement in Hailey’s eyes. Soon, we passed Hailey’s neighborhood, but the driver showed no signs of slowing down. The smile on Hailey’s face vanished. “Sir, this is my stop. You can pull over here.” The driver ignored her, heading straight for the mountain road. Panic finally set in for Hailey. “I’m just a regular person!” she shrieked. “I’m a working-class person, just like you! If you’re going to kill someone, kill Ivy! It’s the rich people like her who deserve to die!” The driver let out a chilling laugh. “You’re both a couple of scheming bitches!” He slammed his foot on the gas. “Two women to keep me company in hell… worth it!”

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Chapter 1 After we got engaged, my fiancé, Daniel, handed me a black card and told me to buy whatever I wanted. I bought a dollar-fifty lemonade. He blew up at me on the spot. “Charlotte, for God’s sake, the Kane family needs a matriarch who can command a room, not some country bumpkin who’s afraid to spend money.” “Everything you do reflects on us now. I can’t afford the embarrassment.” I broke off the engagement. He turned around and proposed to Ava, a student from a low-income family that he was sponsoring. Five years later, we ran into each other at a kindergarten drop-off. Daniel stepped out of a Maybach, holding hands with a beaming Ava. When he saw me and my son buying a popsicle from a street vendor, he stormed over, his voice a furious roar. “Charlotte! You’re letting my son eat that garbage? Can’t you ever shake off that cheap, backwater trash you came from?” I frowned. “He’s not your son.” He squinted, studying the boy, then let out a derisive snort. “He’s that handsome. How could he not be mine?” I didn’t bother to explain. My son has his father’s eyes and nose, but the rest of him is all me. What does that have to do with Daniel Kane? … At pickup time, Daniel’s black Maybach was parked ostentatiously at the school gate, drawing a crowd of curious parents. “Look! Isn’t that Daniel Kane, the CEO of Oakhaven Group?” “Oh my god, his kid goes here?” “No way, this is just a regular public kindergarten. Someone at his level wouldn’t…” Daniel’s brow furrowed in annoyance, and he started to turn back to the car. Ava quickly stepped in, her voice soft and placating. “Excuse me, everyone, could you please give us some space? My fiancé is a little particular about his personal space and isn’t used to crowds. Thank you.” She offered a gentle smile. “We’re just here to pick up my nephew. I hope you don’t get the wrong idea. We’re not married yet.” Daniel leaned in, his voice low and meant only for her. “Get the kid and let’s go. We have that meeting with the Ashtons later.” In the high-stakes world of New York’s elite, paying respects to the formidable Ashton family was a mandatory rite of passage. No one dared to be late. Ava nodded obediently. “Of course, darling. I know how many strings you had to pull to get a meeting with Mr. Ashton. I won’t let anything get in the way.” She paused, her voice laced with curiosity. “I hear Mr. Ashton is devoted to his wife and kids, keeps them completely out of the spotlight. I wonder who Mrs. Ashton is?” Daniel ignored her, leaning against the car door with his hands in his pockets, the picture of arrogant nonchalance. He looked exactly the same as the day he’d cast me aside. I remembered it clearly. The words “I’m breaking up with you” had barely left my lips before he was down on one knee, proposing to Ava. I hadn’t even made it out the door before they were locked in a passionate kiss. For the longest time, I couldn’t understand it. Four years together, from college sweethearts to fiancés. How could he end it so cleanly, so cruelly? It wasn’t until Ava sent me that text message later that I finally understood. My four years with him had been nothing but a joke. “Mommy, I want a popsicle!” My son’s tug on my sleeve snapped me back to the present. The vendor was glaring at me impatiently. “Are you buying this or not? If not, give it back!” I looked down and saw that the popsicle in my hand had already started to melt. “I’m so sorry. I’ll take this one. Can I have another one, please? I’ll pay for both.” His face contorted in a sudden rage. “Who do you think you’re looking down on? You think I need your charity? Take your damn melted popsicle and get lost! Don’t bring your bad luck around here!” His aggressive tone made my son burst into tears. Every head turned in our direction. Daniel glanced over, his sharp, dark eyes meeting mine. For a split second, something flickered in their depths. Then, just as quickly, it was gone. He looked away, as if he hadn’t seen me at all. My son clung to my leg, sobbing uncontrollably. I had no choice but to hand him the melting popsicle. “Just a little taste, okay?” Just as he was about to lick it, Daniel spun around. He stared at us, his chest heaving as if he could no longer contain himself. He strode over and slapped the popsicle out of my son’s hand. “Charlotte, you’re feeding my son this garbage?!” he snarled, wiping his fingers with a silk handkerchief as if he’d touched something vile. “You’ll never get rid of that cheap trashiness that’s in your bones!” My son’s cries escalated into terrified wails. I knelt and pulled him into my arms, trying to soothe him. Daniel’s hand hesitated in mid-air, then retracted sharply. His voice, when he spoke again, was softer. “Why… why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant?” Chapter 2 I froze. For a moment, I thought I’d misheard his furious roar. Now I understood. He actually thought Leo was his child. In his eyes, was I really that pathetic? The kind of woman who would secretly have his child and raise it on her own? “You’re mistaken. He’s not your son.” “Now, if you’ll excuse us, I’m not really in the mood for a reunion.” My husband would be here any minute, and if he saw this scene, that jealous man would find some way to “punish” me later. But Daniel didn’t move. He just stood there, squinting at my son. Ava clung to his arm. “Daniel, darling, don’t scare the little one. You’ll upset Charlotte.” “This child looks like he’s barely three. He can’t be yours.” She stood on her tiptoes and whispered in his ear, “If you really want a child, we could get married and have one of our own…” Daniel cut her off, his voice firm. “He is my son. That handsome, who else could he belong to?” He was certainly confident. Leo has his father’s eyes and nose. The rest is all me. Even if he is handsome, it’s thanks to me and his father. What does that have to do with Daniel Kane? The crowd of onlookers was growing, their whispers like a swarm of bees. “Could he be Mr. Kane’s illegitimate son?” “The mistress and the fiancée, face to face. This is going to be good.” “I’ll give her one thing, though. She’s got guts, raising the kid on her own all this time without asking him for a dime.” Their speculation, so sure and confident, was making Ava’s face paler by the second. She shot me a wary look, but her voice was deliberately soft. “Charlotte, we’re getting married soon.” “Even if… even if this is Daniel’s child, please, continue to raise him yourself. Don’t disturb us.” “We’ve been through so much to get to this point. I don’t want some random child to ruin everything.” She leaned her head on Daniel’s shoulder, the picture of vulnerability. “Darling, maybe we should just give her some money for child support? I really don’t want to be a stepmother.” Daniel’s eyes were fixed on me, his voice tight with suppressed anger. “My son is over four years old, and you’ve let him get so small and skinny. He’s obviously malnourished!” “If you didn’t have money to raise him, why didn’t you come to me? Doesn’t it kill you to see your own flesh and blood like this?” I almost laughed out loud. Leo was just over three, and he was perfectly healthy for his age. How did he become malnourished in Daniel’s eyes? “I’ll say it again. He is not your son.” “He was born in May. He just turned three. This is a normal size for a preschooler.” Daniel’s brow furrowed. He pulled out his phone. “Give me your number. I’ll transfer the child support right now. And I’ll need a way to contact you when I want to see my son.” “That won’t be necessary,” I said, my voice flat. I was done with this conversation. But his tone turned cold. “The child isn’t just yours. I want to be a father to him. Are you denying me that right?” I sighed in frustration. “Are you ever going to stop? We broke up five years ago. What’s the point of all this?” Daniel seemed taken aback for a moment, then gave a condescending smile. “Charlotte, I think you’re getting the wrong idea. I just don’t want the Kane bloodline to suffer with you. This has nothing to do with any lingering feelings I might have for you.” “Don’t worry, even if I have your number, I’ll only contact you about our son. I wouldn’t want Ava to get the wrong idea.” His gaze shifted between me and Leo, a complex emotion clouding his eyes. “Or is it that you’ve hated me all these years? Are you trying to get back at me by neglecting our child? Trying to make me regret breaking up with you… trying to win me back?” I quickly shook my head. “I love Leo more than anything, and I don’t—” “Charlotte!” he cut me off, rubbing his temples wearily. “Stop pretending. I admit, the breakup was sudden. It was hard for you to accept.” “But I love Ava… If I had known you were pregnant, I would have told you to get rid of it. We wouldn’t be in this embarrassing situation now.” I froze. There it was. He’d finally said it. Even if I had been pregnant with his child, it would have been nothing but a burden to him, an embarrassment, something to make Ava uncomfortable. He didn’t have to tell me. If I had been pregnant back then, I wouldn’t have kept it. A man whose heart belonged to someone else… why on earth would I have a child with him? After a moment of silence, I decided to end this once and for all. I pulled out my phone. “He’s really not your son. I’m married. My husband is wonderful to me… Do you want to see our marriage certificate?” That should convince him, right? As I was about to unlock my phone, he clamped his hand over mine. “Photos can be faked.” “Since you’re so determined to hide the truth, you’ve probably covered all your bases.” I was speechless. “Think whatever you want.” The murmurs from the crowd grew louder. I picked up my son and turned to leave. Leo was too young to be exposed to this kind of ugliness. But Daniel suddenly grabbed my wrist, his eyes on my son filled with a raw emotion. “Leo,” he said, his voice thick. “Say, ‘Daddy’.” Chapter 3 I was completely dumbfounded. Leo blinked his big eyes and shyly said, “Mister.” Daniel’s eyes instantly reddened. He looked at me, his voice trembling with heartbreak. “Charlotte, you never even told him about me?” “How could you be so cruel? Other children have fathers to grow up with, but my son, Daniel Kane’s son, has to suffer like this?” I had lost all patience. “Are you ever going to shut up? Let go of me!” But his grip only tightened. After a long silence, he sighed. “For our son’s sake… I’ll give in. Charlotte, you can come back.” I was confused. “What?” A corner of his mouth twitched. “Come back to me. Are you satisfied now?” “Daniel!” Ava cried, looking at him with wounded eyes. “What about me?” Daniel’s gaze flickered. “Ava, she’ll just be a nanny for the child.” “My feelings for you won’t change. It’s just… I can’t abandon my son.” Ava shot me a venomous glare, tears springing to her eyes. “I don’t want her! This woman is using this cheap trick to cling to you! She’s just playing hard to get! She never got over you!” Daniel soothed her, but his eyes on me were cold as ice. “I know.” “Don’t worry. Even if she begs me on her knees, I won’t be moved. You know what she’s like. With her background and her narrow worldview, how could she ever be worthy of me?” The popsicle vendor snorted. “I thought she was some gold digger. Turns out she’s just a desperate mistress!” The crowd immediately chimed in. “She acts so high and mighty, but she’s just a manipulative witch!” “No wonder the kid is so timid.” “Didn’t you hear Mr. Kane? She’s from the countryside. Trash is as trash does.” So what if I’m from the countryside? I worked my way up to become an investment consultant, handling multi-million dollar projects. But in his eyes, I would always be branded as “cheap.” I love street food, early morning hikes, devouring half a watermelon on a hot summer day… When we were together, he dismissed all these simple pleasures as “lacking class.” And Ava? As the “poor student” he sponsored, she used his money to buy luxury goods. Did he ever call her a gold digger? In the end, it was simple. He just didn’t love me. I wrenched my hand away, my face a cold mask. “Daniel, if you don’t stop this, I’m calling the police!” Ava threw her arms around his waist. “Darling, she’s poor and stubborn. She’s taking your kindness as an insult. Let’s just leave her alone.” But Daniel didn’t budge. Instead, he sneered. “The police? Go ahead. With the Kane family’s resources, I’ll get custody of the child, one hundred percent.” “You have two choices: give me your contact information and accept child support, or come home with me and our son right now… as his nanny.” I was so angry I could have screamed. I picked up my son and started to walk away. Daniel’s face darkened. He lunged forward and snatched Leo from my arms. “Since you’re so ungrateful, I’ll raise the child myself!” He held the struggling boy tightly. “If you want to see him, you can come find me at my new place on the coast. I just moved to the city.” Before I could react, Daniel was striding towards the Maybach with my son. Ava trotted behind him, muttering, “Darling, I thought we were here to pick up my nephew.” Suddenly, my son started screaming, reaching for me with his small hands. “Mommy! Bad man! I’m scared…” I ran after them, a wild panic seizing me, but the crowd blocked my way. “The kid will have a great life with Mr. Kane! What are you so hysterical about?” “No wonder Mr. Kane couldn’t stand her. No class at all. Not even thinking about what’s best for the child!” As I watched Daniel open the car door, a desperate sob escaped my lips. “Daniel! Please, give me back my son!” I fumbled for my phone, my hands shaking. “I’m not a mistress! My husband is the head of the Ashton family… Leo is our eldest son! We have a daughter too! I have a family photo on my phone, look!” The crowd erupted in derisive laughter. “The Ashtons? The family that could bankrupt a company with a single word?” “If Mr. Ashton was your husband, would your kid be in this kindergarten? You might as well say you’re the First Lady!” They all mocked me. No one believed me. A chilling cold spread through my body, but I couldn’t just stand by and watch my son be taken away. I screamed, my voice raw with desperation, “Daniel! I’ll go back with you!”

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Since I was sixteen, I had one wild, consuming dream. I wanted to own Declan. He was the poor, aloof scholarship student, a boy made of ice and untouchable pride. I chased him relentlessly for four years, turning the campus upside down, until I finally used a dirty trick to keep him by my side. But eventually, I was the one who got bored. I walked away without a second glance, throwing him away along with our shared past. Five years later, we crossed paths in the corporate world. He was the city’s newest billionaire, a ruthless titan of industry. I was a single mother barely scraping by, struggling to put food on the table. We brushed past each other like strangers. But that night, his custom luxury car blocked the entrance of my office building. The window rolled down. His features were sharper now, carved from marble, and his voice was colder than I remembered. “I need a woman to take care of my needs. I’m a busy man. I don’t have time for a relationship.” “Ten million. You’re mine until I get bored.” 1 The boy who once let me do whatever I wanted was now opening his mouth only to humiliate me. I should have said no. I should have slapped him across his arrogant face. Instead, I bit the inside of my cheek, tasting copper, and looked him in the eye. “Where is the contract?” He froze. Just for a fraction of a second. Then, a dark, mocking laugh slipped from his lips. “So the rumors are true. After your family went bankrupt, you really did hit rock bottom.” He reached into the breast pocket of his tailored suit, pulled out a sleek black card, and held it out. “The deposit. I have a flight tonight for a week-long business trip. My lawyers will contact you.” He turned to roll up the window. “Wait.” My voice cut through the chilly air. He paused, turning his face slightly. The amber glow of the streetlights flickered in his unfathomable eyes. I met his gaze head-on. “What’s the PIN?” The storm brewing in his eyes instantly died down, replaced by a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Take a wild guess.” The engine gave a low, predatory growl. The tires hissed against the asphalt, and he was gone, swallowed by the night. I turned and walked to the glowing ATM on the corner. I tried a few random combinations. Incorrect PIN. I only had one attempt left. My freezing fingers hovered over the keypad. Slowly, I typed in a string of numbers. The date we started our messy, twisted arrangement, exactly eight years ago. PIN accepted. The balance flashed on the screen. I stared at the impossibly long string of zeros. It wasn’t until the machine beeped and spat the card back out that I realized I had stopped breathing. 2 My encounter with Declan had cost me too much time. I practically sprinted to Mrs. Higgins’ apartment building. The door cracked open, and a little head poked out. Her big eyes immediately crinkled into sweet half-moons. “Mommy!” “I’m so sorry, baby. Mommy is late.” I dropped to my knees and scooped her up, burying my face in her neck, breathing in that warm, powdery scent that only little kids have. “Mrs. Higgins read me the story about the little pigs! The big bad wolf burned his tail at the end!” She babbled, her tiny hands flying around to animate her story. The walk home was short. I held her hand, watching the streetlights stretch our shadows, one tall, one impossibly small, across the pavement. Halfway down the block, she tugged at my fingers. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Mommy, my kindergarten sports day is the day after tomorrow. All the other kids’ daddies are coming…” She looked up at me, the streetlamp catching the absolute innocence in her eyes. “Is my daddy going to come?” My heart contracted like it had been pierced by a frozen needle. I crouched down and smoothed her soft hair, my throat painfully tight. “Daddy… he’s working overseas, sweetie. He might not make it back in time this year.” “Can you ask him next time? Please?” A flash of undeniable disappointment crossed her face. But a second later, she nodded vigorously, putting on a brave front like she always did. I swallowed the bitter lump in my throat and forced a bright, cheerful tone. “But Mommy has amazing news. Mommy finally has enough money for your surgery. Once it’s done, you’ll be healthy and can run around just like the other kids. How does that sound?” Lily’s eyes lit up, the sadness instantly washed away. “Mommy, I want a cupcake.” She seized the opportunity, pointing a chubby finger at the glowing window of the corner bakery. “Alright. Just for today.” I pushed the glass door open. The rich smell of roasted coffee and vanilla butter washed over us. I was leading Lily toward the pastry case when a voice stopped me dead in my tracks. “Serena?” The voice was tentative, probing, but sickeningly familiar. “It really is you.” My blood ran cold. I turned around in slow motion. When I saw her face, the air left my lungs. Why did it have to be her? 3 Audrey. Her name slammed into my brain. She looked different, yet exactly the same. The awkward, anxious girl from college was gone, replaced by a polished woman in designer clothes and flawless makeup. But the hostility lurking at the bottom of her eyes hadn’t changed a bit. Memories rushed back, dark and overwhelming. Back then, Declan was a god on campus. Distant, brilliant, and completely broke. His poverty couldn’t hide his blinding potential. I chased him for four years. Everyone knew I was crazy about him. But he never gave me the time of day. Until Audrey, his sweet childhood best friend, reported me for cheating on our final exams just to secure her own academic scholarship. She lied through her teeth. But she didn’t know I had the security footage to prove she framed me. That was the first time Declan ever came to me willingly. His usually expressionless face carried a bitter, almost pleading look. “Serena, drop the charges… I’m begging you. Her mother has a severe heart condition. She won’t survive the shock of seeing her daughter expelled.” He paused, lifting his dark, freezing eyes to meet mine. The words were forced out from between his clenched teeth. “If you let her off the hook this once… name your price. Whatever you want.” And so, I got exactly what I wanted. I got Declan. But he was always cold to me. He refused the expensive gifts I bought him. He wouldn’t let me into his private life. Except for when we were tangled in the sheets, he never truly looked at me. It wasn’t until we broke up, until the ugly truth was dragged into the light, that my stupid, naive brain finally understood. The only girl he ever loved was Audrey. For three years, I was the villain. I was the one who took advantage of his desperation. I used the dirtiest trick in the book to steal time that never belonged to me. 4 “Long time no see.” Audrey’s voice yanked me back to the present. Her eyes swept over my cheap, faded coat, then landed on Lily, who was hiding behind my legs. A flash of shock crossed her face. “Is this…” Her gaze locked onto Lily’s face. My heart plummeted. Acting on pure instinct, I shoved my daughter firmly behind me, shielding her from view. “My daughter. I’m married.” The lie slipped out effortlessly. Audrey blinked, momentarily stunned. Then, a slow, triumphant smirk spread across her lips. “No wonder no one could find you for the college reunions. Everyone misses our campus princess, you know.” I offered a stiff, meaningless smile and pulled Lily away, trying to walk around her. “I have to go. See you around.” She stepped sideways, blocking my path again. She pulled out her phone, tapping the screen to bring up a contact code. “By the way, Declan and I are getting married soon. Let’s exchange numbers. I’ll make sure to send you an invitation. You absolutely have to come.” A sudden, sharp sting hit the back of my nose. I fought down the suffocating tightness in my chest. The smile I plastered on my face must have looked horrific. “No need. I… I’ll be too busy. Congratulations. Goodbye.” This time, I didn’t wait for her to react. I practically carried Lily out the door, throwing myself into the biting night air. Only then did I realize my palms were coated in ice-cold sweat, and my entire body was shaking. “Mommy.” Lily squeezed my fingers. She looked up, her massive eyes filled with confusion. “Who was that lady? Why did she say she was marrying Daddy?” I dropped to my knees and crushed her to my chest. I buried my face in her soft shoulder, taking a ragged breath. “She’s not. They just have the same name, baby. Lily, promise Mommy something. You can never, ever tell anyone Daddy’s name. Understand?” 5 I didn’t sleep a wink that night. As desperately as I needed the money, I refused to be the other woman. And worse, if I stayed tangled up with him, he would inevitably find out about Lily. The very next morning, I walked into Declan’s corporate headquarters. I slid the black card into a plain envelope and handed it to the front desk. “Please give this to Declan.” That evening, the moment I walked out of my office building, a sleek black sedan slid to a stop inches from my legs. The back window rolled down, revealing Declan’s razor-sharp profile. “Get in.” I planted my feet. Wasn’t he supposed to be out of town for a week? He turned his head. His gaze swept over me, freezing me in place. “Don’t make me say it twice.” Defeated, I opened the door and slid into the back seat. Before I even buckled up, the car lurched forward, merging aggressively into the traffic. “What is the meaning of this?” He flicked the black card between his long fingers, cutting straight to the chase. I kept my eyes fixed on the blurring city lights outside the window. “Yesterday… I didn’t think things through. I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were getting married.” I took a deep breath, fighting to keep my voice steady. “Under the circumstances, our arrangement is inappropriate. We need to call it off.” Silence stretched inside the car. Then, he let out a dark, mocking chuckle. “So what?” He leaned in, his eyes sharp as scalpels, carving right through my fake composure. “Whether I marry or not is none of your damn business.” “You want money. I want a warm body and zero emotional baggage. We both get what we want. Isn’t this exactly the kind of transactional relationship you excel at, Serena?” His fingers wrapped around the back of my neck. He didn’t squeeze hard, but the sheer dominance of his touch made my breath hitch. “I think we’re a perfect match.” His breath ghosted over my lips. He smelled of crisp winter air and expensive cologne, a scent that haunted my dreams, but right now, it made my blood run cold. “Physically, at least. And that’s all I need.” “I refuse.” I jerked my head away, avoiding his piercing stare. “You don’t get to choose…” Before he could finish, his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen. His brow furrowed, but his hand remained firmly on my neck. He answered it. At first, it was just clipped, monosyllabic responses. But within seconds, the temperature in the car plummeted. He stared at me, a violent storm ripping through his dark eyes. “Are you absolutely sure?” His voice was terrifyingly hoarse. Dead silence. Then, a low, hollow laugh scraped its way out of his throat. His fingers, still wrapped around my neck, slowly loosened, slipping away until his hand dropped to his side. He threw the phone onto the opposite seat. He turned back to look at me. The last remaining spark of life in his eyes was completely gone. “You’re married?” Every word was dipped in ice. “And you have a kid?” I didn’t say a word. His lips twitched, and he started to laugh. It started as a silent shake of his shoulders, building into a harsh, broken sound that echoed off the leather interior. A single gleam of moisture caught in the corner of his eye. “Serena,” he said, shaking his head, his voice dripping with exhaustion and self-loathing. “I must be out of my mind… letting you humiliate me a second time.” “Pull over!” he barked at the driver. The car slammed on the brakes, violently jerking to a stop by the curb. “Get out.” He stared straight ahead, his jaw locked like granite. “And never let me see your face again.” I pushed the door open into the freezing wind. I slammed it shut behind me. The engine roared, and the car vanished into the dark street, as if it had never been there at all. 6 Since I had returned the money to Declan, I had to find another way to save up for Lily’s surgery. A coworker got me a night shift gig as a bottle girl at a high-end private club. Later that week, balancing a heavy tray of expensive liquors, I pushed open the heavy mahogany doors of a VIP suite. The smell of cigar smoke and expensive perfume hit me instantly. I kept my head down, trying to be invisible as I walked toward the glass table. “Hold on…” a familiar, obnoxious male voice rang out. “Am I hallucinating?” My steps faltered. I instinctively looked up. Sprawled on the center leather sofa was Declan. He was swirling amber liquid in a crystal glass, his eyes dark and unfocused in the dim, neon lighting. Sitting right beside him, smiling perfectly, was Audrey. And the man who had spoken was Blake, Declan’s old college roommate. Blake was already on his feet, circling me like a shark, looking me up and down. The shock on his face quickly warped into cruel excitement. “Well, well, well! If it isn’t Princess Serena!” “What’s the matter? Playing dress-up for the working class?” I gripped the edges of my serving tray until my knuckles turned white. I kept my mouth shut. That only made Blake bolder. He turned back to Declan, grinning like a hyena. “Dec, look at this! It’s Serena! The girl who chased you till the whole campus knew about it, and then dumped you like trash! What a small, pathetic world!” Another guy I vaguely recognized chimed in from the corner. “No kidding! Man, Dec was wrecked for months after that. Princess Serena really has no heart.” Declan said absolutely nothing. He just stared at me, his eyes pitch black. Audrey leaned forward, playing the peacemaker. “Come on, guys, let it go. That was ancient history. She’s married now. I heard her kid is already walking. Life… clearly hasn’t been easy for her.” Her eyes flicked over my cheap velvet uniform, the condescension dripping from every syllable. Blake jumped right back in, playing the generous patron. “Hey, Serena… working here means you get a commission for every bottle we pop, right?” He grabbed a half-empty bottle of premium whiskey from the table, snatched an oversized glass, and poured it to the brim. He shoved it across the table toward me. “Tell you what. For old times’ sake. You down this entire glass, right now, and I’ll put this entire table’s tab under your name. That’s a massive tip. Fair enough?” The sheer humiliation felt like hands wrapping around my throat. I opened my mouth to tell him I was just a server, not a drinking companion. “Get out.” Declan’s voice cut through the room. It wasn’t loud, but it instantly slaughtered the laughter and chatter. He leaned back into the leather cushions, not even bothering to look at me. “Send someone else.” One of the guys, clearly a few drinks deep, chuckled nervously. “Dec, why so tense? Afraid her little bastard kid is yours?” Declan’s eyes snapped up, lethal and terrifying. 7 My heart leaped into my throat. But a second later, Declan let out a low, dismissive scoff. “Impossible.” His gaze drifted over me like I was garbage on the sidewalk. “I just don’t want to look at her.” I practically fled the room. Once I reached the hallway, I collapsed against the cold wall, my knees shaking so violently I could barely stand. Thank God. He didn’t suspect a thing. But why? Blake said I broke his heart. He said Declan was a wreck after I left. Declan didn’t deny it. But that made no sense. He hated me. He only tolerated me because of our twisted deal. Right? My mind violently rewound to five years ago. His birthday. I had found out his roommates were taking him to a cheap diner near campus. I bought an expensive, custom-made gift and planned to sneak in to surprise him. I was standing right outside the private room, hand on the doorknob, when I heard Blake’s voice through the thin wood. “Dec, seriously, what’s your game plan? We’re graduating soon. You’re not actually going to string this rich girl along forever, are you?” Then Audrey spoke up, her voice dripping with fake concern. “Declan, Serena… she’s not like us. The way she treats you, it’s like you’re just a toy she has to own. She doesn’t respect you. You can’t actually be thinking about marrying her.” My breath caught. I waited, desperate for him to defend me. To tell them they were wrong. Instead, I heard his voice. Cold, bored, and irritated. “You’re overthinking it. It’s just a transaction. Marriage was never on the table.” Someone else laughed. “Exactly! Everyone knows Dec only agreed to her demands to protect Audrey. When has Dec ever even smiled at her? He probably feels sick every time he looks at her!” A chorus of knowing chuckles echoed through the room. My fingers clamped onto the doorknob. I bit my lower lip so hard it bled, fighting back the hot tears stinging my eyes. It wasn’t true! They didn’t know anything! He was the one who took his jacket off in the library and draped it over me when I fell asleep. He was the one who shoved my freezing hands into his coat pockets while walking me back to my dorm in the snow. He was the one who whispered sweet things against my lips, coaxing me when I was too shy in bed. Was all of that just in my head? Was I totally delusional? I took a deep breath, trying to glue my shattered pride back together. I was just about to push the door open. Then Audrey laughed. A sweet, clear sound that pierced straight through the door. “Alright, enough of this depressing talk. Declan, remember our promise? We’re going abroad together for grad school. The university just confirmed our fully-funded spots. Our real future starts now.” I froze. In his grand master plan for the future, there was no room for Serena. There never was. I looked down at the perfectly wrapped box in my hands. I didn’t kick the door in. I didn’t scream or cry. I just turned around, walked to the trash can at the end of the alley, and dropped it in. On my walk home, my phone rang. It was my uncle. In the span of five minutes, my entire universe collapsed. My father’s company had gone under. Massive, insurmountable debt. Unable to face the shame, my parents had chosen the most permanent way out. They left me a mountain of debt, a shattered life, and… a tiny, quiet heartbeat inside me that I hadn’t even discovered yet. 8 It was only after the funerals that I found out I was pregnant. Desperate, terrified, and totally alone, I gambled everything and went to find Declan. “Declan, will you marry me?” He stared at me, completely blindsided. It took him several seconds to recover. When he did, his brow furrowed, and his eyes filled with absolute disgust. “What kind of sick game are you playing now, Serena?” One sentence. One effortless, devastating sentence. It extinguished the very last pathetic ember of hope in my chest. To him, the very idea of marrying me was an insult. A joke. There was never any hope for us to be anything more than a dirty secret. Not in the past. Not then. And certainly not in the future. Dead inside, I nodded. I didn’t say another word. I just turned around and walked away. I stayed away for five years. I only came back to this city because it had the best pediatric surgical ward for Lily. I never expected to run into him on day one. Later that same night, the doorbell buzzed relentlessly. I knew exactly who it was, but I had to open it before he woke the neighbors—or worse, woke Lily. The second the lock clicked, the door flew open. Declan shoved his way inside, reeking of expensive bourbon. He slammed me backward against the entryway cabinet. Before I could even gasp, his arms wrapped around me. The smell of alcohol, the cold night air, and his agonizingly familiar scent swallowed me whole. “Declan, what the hell are you doing?!” I shoved my hands against his chest. Through his crisp dress shirt, his heartbeat was racing, burning against my palms. “I am a married woman!” He snapped his head up. His eyes were totally bloodshot, but there was a terrifying clarity in them. “You married a man who lets you live in this dump?” His gaze practically scorched my skin. “A man who lets you work in a sleazy club just to be humiliated by trash?” I turned my face away, pushing against him with everything I had. “That is none of your business.” He didn’t move an inch. “How the hell is it not my business?” He pinned my wrists to the wall. His eyes were rimmed with angry red. “Did you forget we never actually broke up, Serena? You still belong to me!” I froze. Using my moment of shock, he framed my face with his large hands and crashed his lips onto mine. He kissed me with savage, desperate hunger, murmuring against my lips. “Divorce him.” “I know your kid is sick. I know you need cash.” He rested his forehead against mine, his breath ragged and hot. “Come back to me. I’ll give you a blank check. Whatever you want.” The kid. It was like a bucket of ice water to the face. My heart stuttered. He ran a background check on Lily! What else did he find? Did he see— Raw panic eclipsed my anger. I violently shoved him back. My hand cracked across his face. The sound echoed like a gunshot in the tiny hallway. “Declan,” I gasped, my whole body trembling. “You are out of your mind.” His head was turned to the side from the force of the slap. Slowly, he let out a dark, hollow laugh. “Yeah.” He looked back at me, his eyes dead. “I’m out of my mind. I’ve been out of my mind for eight years.” “That’s why I kept breaking every rule I had for you. That’s why I tore the world apart looking for you when you vanished. That’s why—” He choked on the words, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I was finally ready to let you go, Serena. Why did you have to come back? Why are you destroying me all over again?” He looked at me with a pain so deep it made my stomach twist. “You ran away with him. Why would he let you live like this?” I stared at him, completely lost. “What the hell are you talking about?” He didn’t answer. He just pushed past me, stumbling slightly as he walked deeper into the apartment. He was walking straight toward the half-open door at the end of the hall. Lily’s room. If he opened that door… If he saw her little face. Her eyes, her jawline, the tiny crease between her brows when she slept—a perfect carbon copy of his own… He would figure it all out. My heart completely stopped beating.

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I was in the middle of an intense moment with a bigshot from the city elite, when I suddenly, inexplicably, found myself… elsewhere. [Another one trying to conquer the villain? LOL.] [And dressed like that? The villain likes innocent, pure girls! No chance this time.] [Later on, Bryan will be a ruthless kingpin, dominating both sides, someone who kills without batting an eye.] I glanced at the floating comments, then down at myself. A black deep-V dress, cut to my navel, with a hemline so short it barely covered my backside. Bryan had practically begged me to wear it last night. He’d been kneeling on the bed, eyes flushed. “Honey, just this once, I’ll transfer ten million to your account.” 1 I reluctantly put it on. And then he kept me up half the night. Now, though, I wake up to Bryan stepping out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, staring at me like I’m a ghost. “Who are you?” I was furious. What, now that he’d had his fun, he didn’t recognize me? “What do you mean, ‘who am I’? I’m your wife!” The words hung in the air, and I froze. What kind of dump was this? Peeling paint, drafty windows, furniture that looked salvaged from a dumpster. Where was my luxurious king-sized bed? Where was my five-person capacity bathtub? Bryan’s face was inches from mine. No scar on his temple, no lines of weariness, just youthful sternness and suspicion. I reached out, cupping his face, examining him from every angle. “Honey, did you get a face-lift without telling me?” Which clinic did it? The results are amazing! Bryan slapped my hand away, his eyes like daggers. “I’m asking again – who are you?” 2 I calmed down. I meticulously checked the calendar on the wall. Five years ago. Meaning, this was Bryan before he made his fortune. The dirt-poor Bryan. I took a deep breath, remembering the Bryan from five years in the future. He was so glamorous back then. Bodyguards shadowed him everywhere, crowds surrounded him in meetings, yet at home, he was as docile as a kitten. He’d soothe me when I threw a tantrum, dote on me when I pouted. When I said I wanted the stars, he actually bought me a meteorite fragment. It was so huge, sitting in the living room, it made my wallet ache just looking at it. “Honey, how much did this cost?” He was peeling an apple for me, not even looking up. “Not much.” “How much is ‘not much’?” He thought for a moment. “Just about a hundred million.” I nearly fainted. “Bryan, are you out of your mind?” He looked up at me, his eyes innocent. “Didn’t you say you wanted a star?” I was speechless. “I just said that offhand!” He smiled, offering the peeled apple to my mouth. “Even if you said it offhand, I took it seriously.” I looked at the eighteen-year-old boy in front of me. I blinked, then offered my most professional, charming smile. “Little brother, tell me, how much do you earn a month now?” 3 Bryan frowned. “None of your damn business.” “Of course it’s my business.” I circled him, eyeing him up and down. “If you’re broke later, I’m not staying with you.” Bryan scoffed, turning to walk into the bathroom. “Psycho.” Quick as a flash, I snatched his towel. It dropped to the floor. The air solidified for three seconds. Bryan’s face flushed crimson, right to his ears. “You!” I looked down, nodding in satisfaction. “Yep, the size matches. It’s definitely my husband.” [?????????] [What is this woman doing???] [I’m dying of laughter, the villain just got flashed hahahaha] Bryan fumbled, quickly snatching up the towel and wrapping it around himself, his eyes wanting to devour me whole. “What exactly do you want?!” I crossed my legs, sitting on his creaky, rickety bed. “I told you, I’m your wife.” “You don’t believe me? Then let me ask, do you have a mole on your left butt cheek?” Bryan’s expression changed. I continued, “You prefer to put it on your right, right? You love to kiss me in front of the mirror, while making me call you ‘Honey’, and as soon as I do, you…” “Enough!” Bryan cut me off, his voice cracking. He stared at me for a long time, then gritted his teeth and asked, “Are you… are you really my future wife?” I nodded elegantly. “Uh-huh.” “Then tell me, will I be rich later?” I smiled. Was that even a question? “Extremely rich.” “How rich?” I thought about it. “Last month you just transferred fifty million to me, just because I complimented a new bag.” Bryan’s eyes lit up. But he quickly composed himself, scoffing. “So you’re only here because you’re after my money?” I paused. That was a good question. I didn’t answer, instead asking him, “How much do you earn a month?” Bryan fell silent for a moment. “Three thousand.” I almost burst out laughing. Three thousand? I usually spend more than three thousand on a single lipstick. I stood up, walked over to him, and poked his chest. “Little brother, you’re making three thousand now, and I’m still here. What do you think I’m after?” 4 Bryan was stunned. The comments section exploded: [OMG this woman’s got something going on] [The villain’s heart rate is increasing!] [Wait, she looked totally disgusted just now??] Bryan was silent for a long time, then he turned his head, his voice muffled. “You… you should put on some clothes first.” I looked down at my deep-V. “What, shy?” Bryan’s ears were as red as if they were bleeding. [Ding – Villain’s Affection +10, Current Affection: 10] [Holy cow, what kind of crazy move is this??] [Is this what they call ‘purity means nothing in front of sexiness’?] [Heh, men.] Whether Bryan believed me or not, I stayed. I batted my eyelashes and pouted, wearing Bryan down until he had no temper left. Though this rundown place didn’t even have heating. Though this rickety bed felt like a bed of nails. Though Bryan left early and came back late every day, leaving me only fifty dollars for living expenses. Fifty dollars! I held the crumpled bill, lost in thought. The last time I saw a fifty-dollar bill in cash was in my previous life. It had been so long since I spent such a small amount, it felt almost exotic. Bryan glanced at me before he left. “Make it last.” I pouted. Save? The word “save” didn’t exist in Evelyn’s dictionary. 5 I took the fifty dollars and went out. After a quick stroll, I bought a bubble tea. Thirty-five dollars gone. Then a small cake. Another fifteen dollars gone. On my way home, I passed a men’s clothing store and saw a sweater in the window. I suddenly remembered that Bryan, five years later, owned an identical one. He’d bought it himself. One time I asked him, “When did you buy this? It looks good.” He glanced down, saying casually, “A long time ago, I never had the heart to throw it away.” I didn’t think much of it then. Now, I suddenly understood. This was when he bought it. I stood in front of the window for a long time. I reached into my pocket, only to realize I had no cards. I pulled out my phone to call Bryan, then remembered this was five years ago; I didn’t have his number, and couldn’t use electronic payments. Never mind. I turned to leave, then walked two steps and looked back. The sweater was light gray. It would look great on Bryan. 6 When Bryan returned that evening, I was huddled on the sofa, shivering. The dilapidated house was drafty. Back at the Bryan’s mansion, the entire villa would be heated, and I could run around barefoot. It had been a long time since I’d felt this cold. He looked at the empty table. “You didn’t eat?” “I did.” “What did you eat?” “Bubble tea and cake.” Bryan’s face darkened. “That’s not a meal.” I retorted, feeling completely justified. “That’s what I usually eat.” Bryan took a deep breath and walked into the cramped kitchen. … Ten minutes later, he emerged with a bowl of noodles. Plain broth, with a poached egg nestled on top. I eyed it disdainfully. “Looks terrible, even a dog wouldn’t eat it.” Bryan set the bowl in front of me. “Then go hungry.” Then he went into the bathroom. I stared at the bowl of noodles for a long time. Finally, I picked it up and ate. It was delicious. When Bryan came out, the bowl was empty. I curled up on the sofa, pretending to be asleep. He stood there, watching for a while. Then, I felt a warm piece of clothing draped over me. It was his jacket. Worn, faded from washing, but incredibly warm. I secretly opened one eye. Bryan stood by the window, his back to me. Moonlight illuminated his figure, his shoulders thin in a way that tugged at my heart. [Affection +5, Current Affection: 15] [Strategist, you actually tricked the villain into giving you his jacket!] [How unusual. The villain actually has a soft side!] I ignored the comments. I just made a mental note. When I was rich later, I’d buy Bryan ten jackets. No, a hundred. 7 Days turned into weeks. Bryan left early and returned late every day; I did nothing. The comments began to mock me. [Is this strategist even trying? Just lying around at home all day?] [Other strategists go out to offer warmth and care, but this one just waits for the villain to come home and serve her.] [LOL, this one’s definitely going to fail.] I ignored them. I’d become Bryan’s kept woman right after college. So what if I lay around? My husband supported me; it was only right. But one day, as Bryan was leaving, I casually asked, “Where are you going?” “Work.” “What kind of work?” He paused. “Construction, moving bricks.” I was stunned. Moving bricks? I opened my mouth, wanting to say something. But Bryan was already gone. That night, he came home very late. His hands were covered in blisters. I saw them, but said nothing. Only after he fell asleep did I quietly get up and find his ointment. I applied it to his hands, little by little. As I did, I thought of another pair of hands. The hands of Bryan five years later, the ones that often held mine. Calloused, with thick knuckles, but dry and warm. Every time I lost my temper, he’d gently embrace me with those hands. Every time I was sad, he’d wipe away my tears with them. Once, I stared at his hands for a long time. “Honey, why are your hands so rough?” He looked down. “From work.” I frowned. “You’re so refined, what kind of work makes your hands like this?” He smiled, but didn’t answer. I hadn’t paid it any mind then. Now, I suddenly understood. It was from moving bricks. Those blood blisters had hardened into calluses. As I applied the ointment, my nose suddenly ached. 8 I grew up in a single-parent home, constantly moving with my mother. Because I didn’t have a father, I was often bullied. So when I transferred schools, I deliberately portrayed myself as a rich heiress to prevent others from picking on me. As time went on, I started to believe my own lie. I was vain and materialistic. When Bryan proposed to take care of me, I readily agreed. It was simply one person seeking money, the other seeking companionship. Perfectly fair. Compared to going hungry and being bullied, there was nothing to be ashamed of. But I never imagined that Bryan wasn’t born into wealth. Bryan’s brows were furrowed; he was sleeping restlessly. I gently stroked his face. … The next day, when Bryan woke up and saw the ointment on his hands, he paused. He looked at me. I pretended not to notice, continuing to scroll on my phone while curled up on the sofa. Bryan said nothing. But before he left, he placed a hundred dollars on the table. Double the usual amount. [Affection +10, Current Affection: 25] [The villain seems to… care about this woman now?] I rolled over. Of course. My husband wouldn’t care about me? 9 I started trying to be a little nicer to Bryan. “Bryan, I bought you a sweater!” I presented the gift, expecting praise. Bryan looked at the light gray sweater, then at the tag. “299?” “Yeah, isn’t it nice?” “Where did you get the money?” I stated proudly, “Your living expenses, I saved it.” Bryan was silent for a moment. “How long did you save?” I thought about it. “About a week.” “Then what did you eat for a week?” “The late-night snacks you brought home.” Bryan’s expression was incredibly complex. Finally, he put on the sweater. It fit perfectly. I nodded in satisfaction. “Looks good.” Bryan looked down at himself, then at me. “You… why are you so good to me?” I looked at the eighteen-year-old Bryan in front of me. He wore the sweater I bought him, his ears a little red, his gaze awkward yet soft. I paused. Why? Because I’m your wife. But as the words reached my lips, another memory surfaced. 10 The first year of our marriage, I once had a fever. Bryan happened to be away on a business trip and couldn’t get back. On the phone, his voice was frantic: “I’ll have someone take you to the hospital.” “No need, I’ve taken medicine.” “Are you sure?” “Really, you focus on your work.” He was silent for a moment. “Honey, I’m sorry.” I laughed. “Sorry for what?” “For not being there with you.” “Oh, it’s just a fever, don’t make such a big deal.” He was still worried. The next day, I received a pile of express deliveries and takeout. Fever medicine, a thermometer, heat packs, and my favorite strawberry cake. He had someone send a whole box. Later, I found out that he hadn’t slept at all that night, constantly on the phone, finding people to help take care of me. I asked him, “Did you really need to go that far?” He hugged me. “Yes, I did. Everything about you matters.” I suddenly understood. The reason he was so good at caring for people was because he once had nothing. Because he had never had anything, he cherished everything he possessed even more. I reached out and squeezed his cheek. “Because you’re my future husband. You’ll be very rich later, so I’m good to you now, and you’ll support me later.” Bryan’s expression stiffened. Then he smiled, a slightly bitter smile. “Okay.” “Then I’ll work hard to support you later.” [Affection +10, Current Affection: 35] [But, why does the villain look a little hurt?] I didn’t pay it any mind. Anyway, what I said was the truth. 11 Bryan started to change. Before, he would come home and collapse into bed, but now he would ask me a few more questions. “What did you eat today?” “Did you go out?” “Are you cold?” I answered each question, then went back to lying around. One time, I accidentally saw his phone. He was searching: “How to make money quickly” “How to give my wife a good life” “What to do if my wife likes luxury goods” I was stunned. Then I couldn’t help but smile. This silly boy. That night, when he came home, I deliberately sidled up to him. “Bryan, do you like me?” Bryan’s face instantly flushed. “You… what are you talking about?” I tilted my head, looking at him. “If you don’t like me, why would you want me to have a good life?” He didn’t speak. His ears were red again. I laughed, reaching out to poke his cheek. “Little brother, if you like me, just admit it. What’s there to be afraid of?” He mumbled, “Didn’t you say you’re my future wife?” “What about now?” He turned his head, looking at me. “Now, are you willing to…” Before he could finish, a furious knocking erupted from outside. “Bryan! Open the door!” Bryan’s face instantly changed. He pushed me behind him. “Go inside, don’t come out.”

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Ten years after being kicked out of the high school group chat, someone added me back. The group name had changed to “Sophomore Class 3 Tenth Anniversary Reunion.” I scrolled through the chat history. Novak, the class president, had posted: “The reunion location is set: The Haven Hotel, a new five-star place in town.” Below it, a string of replies: “So fancy,” “Can’t wait.” Claire posted a voice message. I tapped to play it. Her familiar voice, laced with a hint of pride, chimed: “I know someone at the hotel; they gave our class an insider’s rate. Only fifty-eight dollars a person.” I stared at the screen, a slow smile spreading across my face. The Haven Hotel. The one I’d officially opened just last month. The name on the business license, under “Legal Representative,” read three words: Evelyn Howard. When they kicked me out back then, they probably never imagined that ten years later, they’d be dining on my turf. 1 I wasn’t in a hurry to speak in the group chat. Messages popped up one after another. I leaned back in my office chair, slowly scrolling up. Claire posted a picture of the hotel lobby, a promotional shot she’d pulled from online. “Girls, isn’t this lobby incredible? My friend is a senior executive here; she got us a forty percent discount.” Forty percent discount. I almost laughed aloud. The Haven’s banquet hall package was thirty-two dollars per person, but she was charging fifty-eight. My old classmate hadn’t seen me in ten years, but her math skills had certainly improved. Novak chimed in below: “Claire, you’re amazing, so well-connected.” Claire replied with a hair-flip emoji: “Of course. After all these years in this city, you’re bound to have some resources.” Felicity also popped up. “Wow, Claire, you’re incredible! Kyle and I will definitely be there!” Felicity. Seeing that name, my finger paused on the screen. Ten years ago, she was my best friend. Without a doubt. I flipped my phone face down on the desk and turned to look out the floor-to-ceiling window. Forty-seventh floor, the city lights spread out beneath my feet. Every brick, every pane of glass in this office, I had earned myself. My phone vibrated again. Novak tagged me: “Evelyn, you’re still in town, right? Are you coming?” Silence for a few seconds. Then Claire replied: “She’s still in town? I thought she’d gone back to her hometown long ago.” Followed by a “mouth-covered-laughing” emoji. I looked at that emoji, my lips twitching. I typed two words: “I’ll be there.” Sent. The group was quiet again for a moment, then Novak sent a thumbs-up: “Great, then we’ll all be there!” No one responded to my message. No one said “long time no see,” no one said “looking forward to it.” And rightly so. In their memory, Evelyn Howard was the girl who stole Claire’s necklace, was scorned by the entire class, and shamefully left the group. Who would welcome a thief? I put my phone down and opened the hotel management system on my computer. The day after tomorrow, December 21st, Banquet Hall B, Sophomore Class 3 Reunion, booked by—Claire. Three hundred dollars advance payment received. For a thirty-person reunion, she paid three hundred in advance. I picked up the intercom on my desk and pressed a button. “Ms. Chen, I’d like to review the schedule for the class reunion booking in Hall B the day after tomorrow.” May Chen, the hotel’s Director of Operations, replied from the other end: “Ms. Howard, is there any issue with that booking?” “No. Just treat it as a normal reception.” I paused. “But all staff, please do not call me Ms. Howard the day after tomorrow.” May Chen was silent for two seconds. “Understood.” I hung up the intercom and picked up my phone again. In the group chat, Novak was tallying attendees, and Claire was posting the reunion agenda—red carpet check-in, talent show, award ceremony. Awards. I scrolled down the page and saw the categories: “Most Successful Award,” “Most Beautiful Comeback Award,” “Most Popular Award.” The person who started the poll was Claire. I put my phone down and stood by the window. The night I was kicked out of the group chat when I was eighteen, I also stood by a window. But back then, there were no city lights outside. Only a drab apartment building and the noisy sounds of party downstairs. Ten years. I clenched my fist, my fingernails digging into my palm. Some scores, it was time to settle. 2 December 21st, 5 PM. I stood outside The Haven Hotel, exhaling a plume of white breath. I hadn’t driven my own car, opting for a taxi. My attire was modest: a grey down jacket over a black turtleneck. My hair was tied in a low ponytail, and my face wore only a thin layer of tinted moisturizer. Pushing through the revolving doors, the warm air of the lobby enveloped me. The young woman at the front desk started to speak when she saw me, but a glance from me silenced her. She lowered her head, pretending to organize documents. I bypassed the front desk and walked towards the banquet hall. At the end of the corridor, the entrance to Hall B was already laid with a red carpet. On either side of the carpet were roll-up banners, emblazoned with “Sophomore Class 3 Tenth Anniversary Reunion,” with a smaller line below: “Grateful for our meeting, cherishing our youth.” I stared at that line for three seconds. “Evelyn?” A voice came from behind me. I turned to see Novak standing there, dressed in a dark blue suit, holding a stack of name tags. He looked me up and down, an awkward smile on his face. “Whoa, long time no see. You… doing alright?” “I’m fine.” “What are you doing for work now?” “Running a small business.” Novak said “oh,” but didn’t press further. He shuffled through the name tags, pulling one out and handing it to me. It read “Evelyn Howard,” listed last. “Claire arranged the seating. You’re… at table three.” I took the name tag, glancing at the hall. Three round tables in total. Table one was closest to the stage, table two in the middle, and table three in the corner, right next to the kitchen entrance. Sitting by the serving area. I nodded, walked over, and sat down. There were a few other name tags on table three: David Hardin, Patrick Bratton, Jane Mantel… all the least noticeable people in the class back then. At exactly 6 PM, people started arriving. Claire walked in, teetering on ten-centimeter heels, in a wine-red dress, a gold necklace around her neck. A necklace. I lowered my eyes. Felicity followed her, in an off-white coat, carrying a Chanel chain bag. Their eyes swept across the hall, finally landing on me in the corner. Claire’s lips curved upwards slightly. Felicity, however, hurried over, her face beaming with surprise as she grabbed my hand. “Evelyn! Oh my goodness, it really has been a long time!” Her hand was soft, her nails manicured in a French style, and a small diamond ring glittered on her ring finger. I looked into her eyes. These were the same eyes that, ten years ago, had declared to the entire class: “I saw Evelyn going through Claire’s bag with my own eyes.” “You look great,” Felicity said, releasing my hand, looking me up and down. “Where did you buy this down jacket? It must be quite warm, right?” Her tone was gentle, but her eyes had already appraised me from head to toe. After her assessment, her smile grew even brighter. “I’ll take you shopping sometime; I know a few really good value stores.” Value. I smiled. “Sure.” She turned and went back to table one, sitting next to a tall man. Kyle Brown. He was a bit thinner, his hair cut short, wearing a grey cardigan. He looked more than ten years older than he had a decade ago. He glanced my way, then quickly looked away. This boy, who had once captivated all the girls in class, was now attentively pouring water for Felicity. The watch on his wrist was genuine, but not particularly expensive. Table one was filled with the “inner circle” from back then: Claire, Felicity, Kyle Brown, and a few other girls who had followed Claire. Table two was the middle tier, the kind who got along with everyone. Table three. I looked around. David Hardin sat across from me, nodding. Jane Mantel sat next to me, head bowed, looking at her phone. The people in the corner, as expected, weren’t talkative. Novak stood on the stage, picking up the microphone. “To all our old classmates—” The lights dimmed slightly. “Welcome home.” 3 The opening video was made by Claire. Old high school photos played on the projection screen, accompanied by a tear-jerking piano piece. Sports days, class photos, New Year’s Eve parties. I carefully looked at each photo. There were twenty-three group photos. I only appeared in the first eight. From the ninth photo onwards, the person standing in my place was Felicity. “High school was so innocent,” Felicity sighed from table one, her voice just loud enough for everyone to hear. “The happiest thing back then was chatting with everyone after class.” Claire chimed in: “Yeah, our little clique was really tight.” She didn’t look at me when she said “our.” When the video finished, the lights came back on. Novak announced the start of the free dining segment, and the waiters began serving food. Table one was served first. I watched the white-shirted waiters carry trays to table one, silently counting—truffle risotto, black pepper short ribs, garlic steamed lobster. Table two followed. Table three was last. When the dish was placed in front of me, I glanced down. Table one had lobster, table three had boiled shrimp. Table one had short ribs, table three had sweet and sour pork ribs. Standard A/B menu difference. But The Haven’s Hall B group meal only had one standard, no A/B distinction. So Claire had specifically set different tiers when ordering from the hotel. “Wow, these shrimp are huge!” a girl from table one exclaimed. No one at table three spoke. David Hardin quietly picked up a piece of pork rib, chewed it, and glanced at me. I smiled at him and took a piece too. It tasted good; our head chef’s skills were always consistent. Halfway through the meal, Claire stood up with her wine glass. “Everyone, a few words.” The entire hall quieted. She stood in the middle of table one, her red dress and gold necklace looking beautiful under the warm lights. “Ten years, and our class is full of hidden talents.” She raised her wine glass and addressed a bespectacled boy at table two. “Leo, I heard you’re in tech in Shenzhen? Must be making a million a year now?” Leo pushed up his glasses, smiling and shaking his head. “No, no, just decent.” Claire then turned to table one. “Felicity and Kyle don’t even need mentioning. They’re a model couple. Everyone knows how well the Chen family’s development in the south of the city sold.” Felicity smiled, lowering her head, leaning on Kyle Brown’s shoulder. Claire’s gaze swept around, bypassing table three. Then it returned. As if she’d suddenly remembered something. “Oh, by the way—Evelyn.” She lifted her chin, looking at me in the corner. “What are you doing now? I think you said earlier… running a small business?” All eyes instantly turned to me. I put down my chopsticks. “Yes, I opened a business.” “What kind of business?” “A hotel.” Claire paused, then laughed. “A hotel? What kind of hotel? A budget hotel?” A few people nearby also started to chuckle. “It’s not one of those hourly-rate motels, is it?” Anya, from table one, said in a shrill voice. The laughter grew louder. I didn’t respond, taking a sip from the teacup in front of me. Seeing my silence, Claire smiled and waved her hand dismissively. “Just kidding. It’s great to be your own boss, right?” She turned back, resuming other topics of conversation. Her voice gradually faded. Jane Mantel at table three leaned over and whispered to me, “Are you okay?” “I’m fine.” I watched the group at table one clinking glasses, the light glinting on Claire’s gold necklace. That necklace was pure gold. I recognized it. Because it looked exactly like the one she claimed to have lost ten years ago. Except that one, ten years ago, was fake. 4 About three-quarters of the way through the meal, Novak took the stage again. “Next up is the highlight of our evening – the awards ceremony!” A PowerPoint slide flashed on the projection screen, titled “Sophomore Class 3 Decade of Distinction.” The first award: “Most Popular Award” – Claire. Claire covered her mouth, feigning a flattered expression, and went up to the stage. The applause from the audience was sparse, but table one clapped enthusiastically. Second: “Most Beautiful Comeback Award” – Felicity. Felicity smiled thinly, linking arms with Kyle Brown as she went up to the stage. Comeback. The Felicity who used to blush just talking to boys, who followed me everywhere back then, now stood on stage, flashing a V-sign at the camera. Third: “Most Successful Award” – Leo. Leo went on stage, bowed, and exchanged a few polite words. The three awards were presented. I was about to take a sip of water. “Hold on—” Claire took the microphone, smiling as she looked out at the audience. “I’ve added a last-minute award.” The PPT slide changed. Four large words appeared on the screen: “Biggest Transformation Award.” “This award, I’d like to present to—Evelyn Howard.” The entire hall fell silent for a moment. “Evelyn, come on up.” I remained seated at table three. Jane Mantel tugged at my sleeve beside me. Claire waited for two seconds, then spoke into the microphone: “Don’t be shy. Ten years, let everyone see what you’re like now.” Someone from table one started to egg me on: “Go on up.” I put down my water glass and stood. As I walked past table two, someone whispered something from behind, but I didn’t quite catch it. I walked onto the stage; the lights were a bit blinding. Claire stood next to me, half a head taller. She offered me the microphone. “Care to say a few words?” I took the microphone. “Thank you.” “Don’t just say thank you,” Claire said, playfully teasing. “Tell everyone, how have the past ten years been?” “Alright.” “You said you opened a hotel earlier? A budget hotel?” I didn’t answer. Claire turned to look at the audience, sighing, her face a picture of “I genuinely feel sorry for you.” “Evelyn, honestly, we’ve all thought of you a lot these past ten years.” She paused. “It’s just… that incident back then truly disheartened everyone.” The entire hall fell silent once more. That incident. Ten years ago, Claire claimed her twenty-thousand-dollar gold necklace went missing. Felicity said she saw me going through Claire’s bag with her own eyes. The whole class voted, twenty-eight votes, to kick me out of the class social group. I didn’t vote for anyone. But not a single vote was on my side. “I know you might feel wronged,” Claire’s voice was very gentle, “but the evidence was clear back then—” “What evidence?” I interrupted her. Claire blinked. “The necklace found in your bag, everyone saw it.” I looked out at the audience. Over twenty faces stared back at me, some sympathetic, some curious, some avoiding my gaze. Felicity sat at table one, holding her wine glass, her expression calm. “That necklace,” I said, “was fake.” Claire chuckled. “Evelyn, it’s been ten years—” “Gold-plated. Less than two hundred dollars.” I put the microphone back on its stand. “If that necklace was really worth twenty thousand back then, you would have called the police.” Someone in the audience gasped. Claire’s smile froze for a moment. Just a moment. She quickly recomposed herself, shaking her head. “Evelyn, I was genuinely trying to help everyone make peace. Saying things like that, it just hurts feelings.” She turned to the audience, shrugging helplessly. “Everyone, don’t misunderstand, I don’t mean anything else.” Anya from table one chimed in: “Exactly, she invited you to the reunion out of kindness, and you’re just bringing up old grudges.” Another girl added: “It’s all in the past, why bother?” A chorus of agreement rose from the audience. “Let it go,” “What’s the big deal,” “Still holding onto it after ten years.” Standard peacemaking. I looked at the “understanding” faces in the audience and suddenly felt a strong sense of déjà vu. It was the same ten years ago. They said, “Just apologize, Evelyn.” I didn’t apologize, so I was kicked out. Claire raised her hand and patted my shoulder, just enough force to make those around her think she was being friendly. “Evelyn, don’t overthink it. Sit down and have a drink; today is just for a happy get-together.” I glanced at her hand on my shoulder. Her nails were painted with wine-red polish. I didn’t move. She retracted her hand herself. As I walked off the stage, I passed by table one. Felicity looked up and smiled at me. A beautiful smile. She had smiled like that ten years ago too. After smiling, she told the homeroom teacher— “I saw it. The necklace fell out of Evelyn’s bag.”

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