Author: Momo Chan

When the female lead appeared, I was already pregnant with Arthur’s child. Unable to fight against fate, he had once disregarded everything to break his engagement with the female lead for me, yet because of her, he came to hate me to the bone, finding even a single glance at me repulsive. Finally, I was exhausted. I threw away our tangled feelings, and even gave up the child. Until a twilight six years later. A tender-faced child knocked on my door. Looking like a stern little adult, he said: “My dad doesn’t want me anymore. Can I stay with you?” 1 I froze for a moment, speechless. Arthur Jr. pursed his lips in displeasure. Looking up with his beautiful little face, he stated matter-of-factly: “My teacher said parents have a duty and responsibility to raise their children…” The half-open door interrupted his unfinished sentence. I stepped aside slightly and said calmly: “Come in.” The dim light inside illuminated his slightly widened eyes. His eyes flashed inexplicably. He tilted his chin up, gave a “Hmph,” and obediently walked in. Closing the door and turning around, I saw Arthur Jr. curiously looking around. Seeing me look at him, he immediately withdrew his gaze, nervously gripped his backpack straps, and said with a tense little face: “My name is Arthur Jr.” It sounded like a self-introduction, yet also like a reminder that he was the child Arthur and I brought into the world. I know. From the first glance, I was sure of his identity. Because he looked almost exactly like Arthur. Seeming disappointed by my calm reaction, he turned his head away unhappily and stopped looking at me. I placed his tender yellow backpack in the entryway and led him to wash his hands. “Let’s eat first.” Arthur Jr. obediently replied with an “Oh.” By the time I brought out the food, he had already climbed onto the chair. I asked him why he suddenly came looking for me. Arthur Jr. buried his head, poking at the small green vegetables in his bowl. His drooping little head was black and round, and his voice was muffled: “I got into a fight with him. He smashed things and told me to get out, saying I could never come back.” So he ran away from home in a fit of pique. Then Arthur should be coming to pick him up soon. Makes sense. After all, six years ago, the Vance family fought tooth and nail for Arthur Jr.’s custody, and things got very ugly. It’s even more impossible for them to not want him now. My chopsticks paused; I couldn’t tell what I was feeling at this moment. I didn’t know Arthur Jr. was coming tonight, so I only had a simple meal of two dishes and a soup. He was a very picky eater. He didn’t eat onions or carrots, leaving him with almost nothing to eat. Arthur Jr. stared at the mashed cabbage leaves with deep resentment, sneaked a glance at me, and guiltily swallowed them. When we first met, he carried a bit of arrogant and spoiled entitlement. Now, seeing him being picky about vegetables, I imagined he was completely pampered and given everything he wanted at the Vance family. He shouldn’t have suffered any grievances. I felt a bit relieved. After washing the dishes, I waited for Arthur to send someone to pick him up. I waited until 9:30 PM. Six-year-olds get sleepy early. He dug out his pajamas from his backpack, looked around, and pouted: “There’s only one room.” “Am I squeezing into one bed with you tonight?” I glanced at the clock on the wall. For some reason, the Vance family still hadn’t sent anyone. I had to compromise. “Yeah, you’re sleeping with me tonight.” I originally thought Arthur Jr. would throw a tantrum. After all, a shabby one-bedroom apartment naturally wasn’t as comfortable as the Vance family’s luxurious mansion. But Arthur Jr. just pursed his lips, his eyes sparkling. After washing his face and huffing and puffing into his pajamas, he kicked his legs and climbed into bed himself. Just like during dinner—even though he looked disgusted, he still silently finished all the vegetables I put in his bowl. He wriggled under the covers, creating a little mound. He pulled out a fairy tale book from who knows where, peeked his eyes out to secretly look at me, and couldn’t help but urge: “Aren’t you going to coax me to sleep?” He looked quite happy. 2 After coaxing Arthur Jr. to sleep, I dug up Arthur’s number. After hesitating for a long time, I still didn’t dial it. Arthur and I had been separated for six years. At first, we thought we could fight fate. Back then, my family suddenly went bankrupt, and the Vance family backed out of our marriage, secretly arranging an engagement between Arthur and Mia. For me, he broke the engagement with Mia despite everything. He even gave up his status as the heir. He took a beating from Old Mr. Vance as a family punishment and couldn’t get out of bed for half a month. Seeing my tears, he endured the pain, a lazy smile on his face as he coaxed me in a low voice. I thought things would get better. The bankruptcy would get better, Arthur would get better, the future would get better. But they didn’t. Arthur and I got married secretly. Perhaps because of Arthur’s unwavering commitment to me from start to finish, I never once thought about getting rid of the baby after I got pregnant. Until the eve of the birth. Enduring the pain, I called for a long time, but Arthur never answered. A neighbor rushed me to the hospital. When I woke up, I saw a cold and indifferent Arthur. I don’t know why a person could change so drastically overnight. He looked at me with nothing but unfamiliarity and disgust. Mia came to see me once. From her, I learned the truth about this world. Due to a system timing error, when the late-arriving female lead appeared, the male lead had already developed feelings for someone else. As the price of correction, the male lead’s misplaced feelings began to invert. As much as he loved me before, he hated me now. Mia looked at me with a mix of pity and sadness. Before leaving, she asked in a low voice, “Have you thought about what will happen to your child in the future?” I suddenly froze, feeling lost. I didn’t know who to hate. Should I hate Arthur? But he couldn’t even figure out his own feelings. Should I hate fate? But even if I did, it wouldn’t change anything. Then, my parents got into a car accident on their way to visit me at the hospital. They fell into a coma and might remain in a vegetative state for the rest of their lives. I was on the verge of a breakdown. My mind kept replaying Mia’s words, and I just felt this bastard world was so, so tiring. I pushed open the window. As I looked down, the baby beside the hospital bed suddenly started wailing loudly. In a daze, I thought, if I died, what would happen to him? Would this world tolerate his existence? Would Mia abuse him? Or would he, like me, be despised by Arthur, endure endless grievances alone, and finally die quietly under the watchful eyes of everyone? I started trembling all over. I went back to the bedside, my hands shaking as they reached for his neck. I wanted to take him with me. But then he stopped crying. His red, teary eyes stared at me pitifully, as if no matter where he went, he just wanted to be with his mother. It wasn’t until nurses and bodyguards sensed something wrong and rushed in, pushing me away roughly. I looked down at my trembling hands, suddenly realizing what absurd thing I had done under Mia’s suggestion. The news quickly reached the Vance family. Old Mr. Vance specifically asked to see me and started fighting for custody of the child. I didn’t ask for anything. I abandoned Arthur, who despised me, gave up custody, and cleanly signed the divorce papers. I only asked for two million dollars. Youth doesn’t know the taste of sorrow. The eldest daughter of the Smith family, who used to casually throw around millions, was now driven to a dead end over a few thousand dollars in hospital bills. From beginning to end, Arthur never showed up. He was disgusted by my very existence and didn’t even want to look at me. So, I accepted my fate. I threw away our tangled feelings, and even gave up the child. I let him go, and I let myself go. It wasn’t until a soft little dumpling buried himself headfirst into my arms that I snapped back to reality. Arthur Jr. hummed with his eyes closed, curling up softly in my arms, as if he had finally found a comfortable position, sleeping soundly. He uneasily clutched the hem of my shirt tightly, as if afraid I would disappear the moment he opened his eyes. Looking at that innocent, tender face, I couldn’t help but sigh softly. If he knew his mother wanted to strangle him as soon as he was born, would he still have come looking for me? He’d probably be trying to hide from me. 3 When morning came, Arthur still hadn’t shown up. I didn’t know what he was trying to do. The Vance family fought so hard for custody back then, making a huge scene, but now they just leave him here. I woke Arthur Jr. up early and called a cab to take him to school. The kindergarten he attended wasn’t in the same city as me, but thankfully it was only an hour’s drive. Before getting out of the car, he made me promise over and over to pick him up after school, whining and clinging to me, refusing to let go. Until he saw a car parked in front of the kindergarten. His eyes lit up, and he hurriedly pulled me out of the car. As we got closer, he deliberately slowed down and casually stepped in front of a chubby kid who had just gotten out of a car. Seemingly doing it on purpose for him to see, Arthur Jr. swung my hand in front of him. Then very loudly, in a voice everyone could hear, he asked me: “Mom, you’re going to pick me up after school, right?” This was the first time Arthur Jr. called me “Mom.” Perhaps because of a full six-year absence, he had never proactively called me “Mom” even when he knocked on my door. The chubby kid stared straight at me and said in disbelief: “Since you have a mom, why hasn’t she ever dropped you off before?” Arthur Jr. scoffed, his gaze filled with disdain: “My mom is busy with work. She specially took time off today just to drop me off.” He emphasized the word “specially.” He held my hand, walking toward the kindergarten’s main gate in front of everyone, like he was showing off, making sure everyone saw. Before parting, he coyly asked one more time: “…You will come pick me up, right?” Seeing I didn’t answer, he glared at me, then said very nervously and quietly: “You promised me in the car. Grown-ups can’t lie!” I helplessly squatted down, flattened his flipped-up collar, and ruffled his hair. His hair was dark and soft, feeling nice to the touch. “Okay, I’ll be here.” He couldn’t help but curl his lips into a smile, then tried hard to straighten them. Feigning maturity, he lifted his chin and said reservedly: “Mm, I’ll remember to wait for you.” I didn’t withdraw my gaze until his figure completely disappeared from my sight. I found the teacher and asked about Arthur Jr.’s situation at kindergarten. The teacher hemmed and hawed, finally sighed, frowned, and complained a bit: “I know the Vance family is powerful, and my words might not carry any weight.” “But Arthur Jr.’s mom, no matter how busy you are, you can’t just ignore your child, right?” “Since he enrolled, no one has ever come to a parent-teacher conference!” “Now all the kids in the kindergarten are saying he doesn’t have a mom. If this continues, it’s going to be very bad for his physical and mental development.” No one ever came to a parent-teacher conference? Even if Arthur was busy and disliked this child, couldn’t he even bother having an assistant handle it? I frowned, feeling for the first time that I might have made the wrong decision. …Maybe I shouldn’t have given up custody back then. But I was penniless then, my parents in a coma at the hospital, I couldn’t even feed myself. How could I possibly raise a fragile child? I pulled out Arthur’s number, hesitated for a moment, but still dialed it. I decided to have a serious talk with him. If Arthur really didn’t want to raise him anymore, I would take him with me. Although I couldn’t provide him with the kind of excellent conditions the Vance family could, it was more than enough to raise a child. The call had just gone through when a ringtone sounded behind me. Seeming to realize something, my fingertips trembled as I turned around. I saw Arthur stepping out of a black Bentley. Six years had passed. He seemed to have changed, yet also seemed the same. He looked down at the lit-up screen with half-lidded eyes, his wrist bones sharply defined, his handsome, cold face hidden in the shadows. He unhurriedly raised an eyebrow and suddenly looked up. “You’ve hid from me for so many years.” “Want to talk?” Unlike my disheveled state over the years, Arthur had always remained calm and composed. His features were exactly as I remembered, but the look in his eyes when he looked at me was inexplicably deep. Even the light filtering through the treetops seemed to favor him. I heard he had taken over all the Vance family businesses from Old Mr. Vance. I heard the brand he founded swept the globe. I heard he married secretly early on and had always kept a low profile. Memories of the past decade, which I had deliberately ignored, surged forward like a crushing force, bringing a dense pain to my chest. It wasn’t until the moment I saw him that I suddenly realized. I thought I had let go. Turns out, I hadn’t. Weaving me a grass ring in our youth, kicking the person who bullied me into the pool. No one could have thought we would end up in such an embarrassing state today. Actually, he hasn’t changed. He just doesn’t love me anymore, that’s all. It really has been a long, long time, Arthur. 4 Silent all the way, we found a nearby cafe. Before the coffee arrived, to cover up my feelings, I got straight to the point: “Do you still want the child?” Over the past six years, I had fantasized about reuniting with Arthur in a way that was almost torturous. So much so that I was perfectly capable of feigning indifference now. Arthur glanced at me without hesitation: “Of course I do.” I pursed my lips, staring at the street sign outside the floor-to-ceiling window, gave a low “Mm,” and stood up. “Then remember to pick him up after school. If you don’t have time for parent-teacher conferences, you can let me know. I won’t bother you and—” I still couldn’t bring myself to calmly say Mia’s name. I couldn’t help but dig my nails into my palm. The sharp pain brought me back to reality, forcing myself to say: “…won’t bother your life together.” I checked the time and got ready to leave. As we brushed past each other, I only heard Arthur suddenly ask coldly: “So now you only want to talk to me about Arthur Jr.?” My steps faltered, not quite understanding. Everything between us was settled six years ago. He loved someone else, I took the two million and left cleanly, it was that simple. Besides Arthur Jr., what else was there to talk about? Arthur let out a soft breath, his dark eyes fixed on me, and spoke again: “Alright then, I don’t want Arthur Jr. anymore.” So self-righteous, as if the one suddenly going back on his word wasn’t him. I frowned and couldn’t help asking: “What do you mean?” Arthur tilted his chin slightly, tapping the seat across from him, gesturing for me to sit back down. “Exactly what it sounds like.” “You want to raise the child, fine. He’s yours.” “Considering the child’s physical and mental health, every Friday night I will come to your current residence to spend the necessary time with Arthur Jr., and drive back to the company early Monday morning.” Watching him calmly spewing nonsense, I just felt it was absurd. I couldn’t bear it anymore and reminded him: “We are already divorced.” “Are we?” Arthur let out an ambiguous sneer. “I didn’t sign the papers.” I realized the meaning of that sentence a moment too late. Back then, Old Mr. Vance made me sign the divorce agreement. I thought Arthur was so disgusted by me he didn’t even want to see me one last time, so he didn’t show up from beginning to end. He said he didn’t sign it. But then why wait six years to come find me? I wouldn’t be so narcissistic as to think he still had feelings for me. Maybe the original agreement got lost, or maybe there was a loophole and we needed a supplementary agreement. Anything was possible. I pursed my lips and cooperated smoothly: “Then we’ll sign a new one.” Arthur didn’t even bat an eye: “Not signing.” I reasoned with him patiently: “We sign it and we’re even, isn’t that great?” “No.” “Do you have any concerns? I don’t want the shares or the money. Consider it me leaving with nothing.” “No.” His three “no’s” made me both angry and dazed. Perhaps Arthur himself didn’t even remember, but this was how he was in his youth. At his birthday party that day, someone cornered me, their gaze frivolous and disrespectful, their words vulgar. Arthur kicked him right into the pool. It caused a huge scene. The guests were all prominent figures in Capitol City, and the elders from several families didn’t look pleased. When asked why, Arthur remained silent and offered no explanation. To avoid rumors and protect my reputation, Arthur didn’t even mention me from start to finish. He refused to admit he was wrong, and naturally took a beating from Old Mr. Vance. Probably no one would have imagined that the eighteenth birthday of this future business titan was spent in a confinement room. The door was completely locked, and even medicine couldn’t be delivered. I huddled outside the door, saying very quietly and guiltily: “I’m sorry.” Through the door, he paused, making some rustling sounds. It seemed he sat down by the door too. His voice was a bit muffled, he gave a soft “Oh,” and then said: “Not listening.” I buried my forehead in my knees and said numbly: “Actually, you didn’t have to kick him. Just waiting for him to finish talking would have been fine, he wouldn’t dare do anything to me.” “No.” I didn’t say anything more. Maybe my voice was too muffled, and he misunderstood something. After a moment, he added: “No crying allowed.” He knocked on the door and clicked his tongue lightly: “I did it willingly. It has nothing to do with you. No crying allowed.” I suddenly snapped back to reality, trying my best to hide the sourness in my eyes, but it felt as if I heard his “no crying allowed” from many years ago all over again. Arthur sat in the light, smiling faintly. The fine dust caught in the fragmented light danced around him. The contours of his past had silently sharpened over the years. He looked up and raised an eyebrow at me. As if answering what I had said earlier. “Chloe, we can never be even.” 5 I don’t quite remember how it ended. I only remember I was so angry I didn’t even say goodbye. Because things ended on a sour note with Arthur, I wasn’t sure if he was just saying that or if he really planned to do it. I hesitated for a moment but decided not to take a cab back. Perhaps the round-trip fare would cost almost a day’s salary. Instead of going back to work, I might as well ask for the day off. Or perhaps it was the maternal instinct, absent for six years, acting up. I didn’t want to break my promise to Arthur Jr. Until 4:30 PM, when kindergarten ended. Most of the children in this kindergarten came from prominent families. Amidst the coming and going luxury cars, I saw that Bentley stop in front of Arthur Jr. So I didn’t go forward. I turned around and walked slowly in the direction I came from. I suddenly felt my previous worries were ridiculous. What was I thinking? How could the Vance family really let the child go with me? That Bentley quickly drove away, kicking up a thick cloud of dust as it passed by. I inexplicably thought of that tender little face. We probably wouldn’t see each other again. I just couldn’t help but turn my head to take one look back. After the black car left, revealing the previously blocked road, Arthur Jr. stood alone at the kindergarten gate. He stared at me with his big, round eyes. His eyes lit up, and he was about to charge toward me, but was stopped by the teacher beside him. His little face scrunched up, and he seemed to say something angrily to the teacher. Afraid he’d run across the street recklessly, by the time I snapped back, I had subconsciously walked several steps toward him. The teacher saw me and then let Arthur Jr. come over. He ran, panting heavily, his dark pupils shining. It wasn’t until he got close that he slowed down, feigning nonchalance, acting coy yet happy: “…You, you really came to pick me up?” His soft little hand tentatively held my fingertips. Seeing I didn’t pull away, he pursed his lips, peeked up at me, and held on even tighter. I gave a soft “Mm,” and asked him a bit uncertainly: “Aren’t you leaving with him?” Mentioning Arthur, Arthur Jr.’s cheeks puffed up like a little gas tank ready to explode: “I don’t want to go with him! And he wasn’t here to pick me up!” “He said you work hard dropping me off and picking me up, and said I’d be annoying if I pestered you every day, telling me not to disturb your work.” He looked like a child with a strong mind of his own, seemingly very disdainful of Arthur, and added very seriously and proudly: “I’m not as stupid as him!” “I talked to the teacher about transferring schools today! This way you won’t have to spend so much time dropping me off and picking me up in the future!” He tilted his little face up, his gaze urging me, seemingly waiting for me to praise him. I couldn’t help but pat his round, dark little head. Traffic was heavy on the way back. After buying groceries at the market, the sky grew dark. I held Arthur Jr.’s hand as we walked home. As if suddenly remembering something, he muttered casually: “Oh right, the driver will pick me up after school tomorrow. Dad said I have to go home tomorrow to get my change of clothes.” “But I’m still coming back here to sleep! You can’t forget me!” Tomorrow is Friday. I instinctively tightened my grip on the plastic bag holding the ingredients for braised pork. I paused for a moment and said warmly, “Okay.” Children have short memories. Maybe he’d be coaxed back by his family over the weekend and then forget about me. Every time we met, I treated it as the last time. Because only then, amidst the endless waiting, wouldn’t I feel disappointed. 6 By 10:30 PM on Friday, Arthur Jr. still hadn’t returned. I calmly put away the pajamas Arthur Jr. had tossed on the edge of the bed earlier, and put the extra dishes I made on the table into the fridge. I turned off the lights, sat in the dark for a while, and closed my eyes. When I woke up again, I heard the pitter-patter of rain outside the window. The sky was barely light. I had nightmares all night and woke up with a splitting headache, throbbing in waves. There were a few unread messages on my phone. Before leaving yesterday, Arthur Jr. hugged my leg and pestered me for my phone number. The earliest voice message was from 12 AM. He sounded a bit guilty, acting tough, yet trying to explain. [I didn’t mean to be late!] [I had my clothes ready at six! But Dad got sick again and didn’t seem to have the energy to drop me off.] [He’s so useless!] The second message was sent half an hour later. Cautious, with a hint of a cry. [Mom, are you angry?] [Do you not want me again?] [I didn’t want to stay here either, but, but I had no choice, I didn’t have the driver uncle’s number—] … The last message was from ten minutes ago. He took a picture of fever-reducing medicine instructions, asked me what it said, and asked if a child could take this medicine. I quickly called his number back. The phone was answered in a second, and a sobbing voice came from the other side. “Mom.” My phone was on ‘Do Not Disturb’ automatically at night. I couldn’t imagine how terrified and anxious Arthur Jr. must have been all night. Not wanting to scare the child, I took a deep breath, tried to steady my voice, gripped the phone tightly, and asked gently: “Do you have a fever? Can you tell Mom where you feel uncomfortable?” He sneezed on the other end. He didn’t answer the question, but asked cautiously, his voice thick with congestion: “Mom, can you come pick me up?” I knew it. I couldn’t refuse. 7 Following the location Arthur Jr. provided, I found a villa complex in Capitol City. It seemed they were notified in advance, as the security guards didn’t make things difficult for me and easily let me in. Standing before the door, I couldn’t help but feel that this villa looked a lot like my former home. Just as I was about to press the doorbell, a hand blocked me. I saw Mia’s reflection on the doorbell screen. My pupils shrank. My mind went blank. Mia frowned, seeming unable to understand: “Why are you here?” I almost reflexively slapped her hand away. Under her shocked gaze, I pursed my lips: “I came to pick up Arthur Jr.” Mia froze, seeming to realize something, and said pointedly: “Actually, you really shouldn’t have given up custody back then.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, revealing a hint of pity: “You know, Arthur doesn’t like this child.” “He’s stubborn and hard-headed, not likable at all, and refuses to call me ‘Mom’.” “Oh right, you’ve experienced it too, haven’t you? Anyone who goes against the protagonist never has a good ending.” She smiled sweetly. That airy sentence instantly pulled me back to that freezing winter six years ago. But this time, I didn’t back down. “He has a mother; he doesn’t need a second one.” “As for what you said about not having a good ending—” I took a step closer to her, stared into her eyes, and fired back: “Since you know clearly what happened back then, you should also know very well that I have nothing now. I have nothing left to lose.” “All those things you mentioned, you can go ahead and try.” I smiled and said: “Anyway, a rotten life is still a life. When that day really comes, before I go, I’ll be sure to take you with me.” Mia unconsciously took a step back, seemingly not expecting the broken and desperate person from six years ago to fight back now. She bit her lip and didn’t speak. Ignoring her, I went ahead and pressed the doorbell. Not long after, the door was pushed open outward. A face looking sickly and languid appeared behind the door. Arthur didn’t seem to expect me to be here, and instinctively asked: “Why are you—” The next instant, his eyes turned cold, and he said almost indifferently: “Get out.” Because of Mia’s appearance, is everything from six years ago going to happen all over again? I pulled my lips into a self-deprecating smile: “Don’t worry, I’ll leave as soon as I get Arthur Jr.” But as if he couldn’t bear it anymore, he suddenly grabbed my wrist. Then, without a word, he yanked me into the house. He blocked half his body in front of me, and with a cold face, slammed the door shut with a bang. Right before the door closed, I watched as Mia’s freshly forming smile instantly stiffened. I looked up at Arthur blankly. …Ah. Did he grab the wrong person?

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I accidentally injured my older brother’s face, leaving a scar. From then on, he hated me. Even his secret social media account was full of him badmouthing me: 【My face and my life were both ruined by my sister. Well, she has to take responsibility for me. The kind that lasts a lifetime.】 【Speechless. Every time my sister makes a mistake, she just acts cute. If acting cute worked, what would we need the police for? Even if she stares at me adorably, it’s useless.】 【The food my sister makes is so awful, it’s hard to swallow. When I said a few words, she got unhappy and started throwing chopsticks and bowls around. Being a brother is so hard.】 It wasn’t until I discovered the adoption papers. That I finally learned. My brother and I are not blood-related. I pinched the hem of my shirt and whispered: “Getting rid of a pesky sister like me has been your wish all along, right? “Congratulations.” But he slowly curved his lips into a smile. Staring straight at me, he murmured faintly like a malevolent spirit: “Yes… “The feeling of a dream coming true is indeed pretty good.” 1 Hearing the sound of the door opening. I hurried to the entryway, putting on a sweet smile for the person arriving: “Welcome home, brother! “I’ve been waiting for you for so long~” The tall young man glanced down at me. He just gave a faint “hmm.” Then he walked straight past me, into the house. The hand I extended to help Arthur carry his bag. Just hung awkwardly in the air. I didn’t lose heart. I grabbed the coffee I had prepared from the fridge. Holding it out to Arthur like I was presenting a treasure: “Brother, are you thirsty from coming home from the station? “Ta-da— “Look what I got for you! “I know you love the iced Americano from this coffee shop the most!” I blinked at him. Arthur didn’t even look up. He took it and set it aside. Saying indifferently: “Oh, thanks.” But we’re siblings. Why do we need to say thank you for something like this? It’s so distant… I lowered my head. Sure enough. Brother still hates me. He doesn’t even want to drink the coffee I got him. While we were eating at the dining table. Mom smiled and put food in Arthur’s bowl: “Our family’s grad student is finally home. Eat up.” She then asked gossipy: “Why are you home so late for the holidays this time? “Are you hiding something from us, secretly dating someone at school?” Arthur answered coldly: “It’s just that my advisor gave me a task at the last minute.” He paused, then said expressionlessly: “I have a scar on my face, it’s ugly. “No girl would like me. “Don’t say things like that anymore.” The atmosphere at the dinner table suddenly became awkward and silent. My heart suddenly ached. I put down my chopsticks and avoided the situation: “I’m full, I’m going back to my room.” 2 I lay in bed. Staring blankly at the ceiling. Silently refuting what Arthur had just said in my heart— I like Brother, I’ve never thought Brother is ugly. My brother is the best-looking man I’ve ever seen. But unfortunately, there’s a scar right under his eye. Ruining his originally perfect face. And the culprit was me. 3 When I was little, Mom and Dad were busy building their careers. The person who spent the most time with me was Arthur. He tolerated all my capriciousness. And I developed a spoiled and arrogant personality. I always had trouble waking up early for school. He would hold me in his arms, help me wash up, and feed me breakfast. As long as I acted clingy and cute with him, He would get that flustered, blushing look of being struck by cuteness, and sigh softly: “How is my sister so cute…” Then he would give me all the gifts I wanted. Princess dresses, Skittles, building block castles. My favorite person was Brother. And Brother loved me the most. But ever since Arthur started boarding at school in high school. Everything changed. I rarely got to see him. And I knew very little about his life. On a rainy Sunday. Like usual, I went to Arthur’s room to find him. Faint sounds of water came from the bathroom. I consciously curled up in a corner of his bed. Hugging my teddy bear, I fell asleep in my familiar, exclusive territory. In my hazy consciousness. A warm presence pressed against my back. It touched me and immediately pulled away. Arthur, looking disheveled, hurriedly put on his clothes. “…Chloe, why are you in my bed?” Rubbing my eyes, I asked, confused: “Huh? “Brother, hasn’t it always been like this? “When it rains and thunders, I always sleep with you.” Arthur hesitated to speak. He looked away, and after a long while, sighed: “You’ve grown up. “Chloe, we can’t do this anymore, you know? “You have to learn to be independent.” I didn’t understand his sudden change. I instinctively opened my arms, acting cute: “But Brother said you would always be with me. “I want a hug.” The look I was so familiar with appeared on Arthur’s face. The obvious “struck by cuteness” expression. But this time. He looked away with utmost seriousness and firmness. “No.” “What about a kiss?” “Absolutely not.” I had already compromised. He wouldn’t even kiss my forehead. This was the first time Arthur had rejected me. To me, it was like the sky was falling. Only one thought remained in my mind— It’s over, Brother doesn’t want me anymore. I had long been spoiled rotten by him. So, tears of anger and disappointment welled up. I forcefully threw my teddy bear at his face. “I hate you, I never want to talk to you again!” I thought we would make up. Later, on Arthur’s 18th birthday. When I was decorating his room with ribbons and balloons for him. I saw a love letter tucked at the very bottom of his drawer. The girl’s name was also “Chloe.” Stunned for a long time, I quietly put it back. I waited for Arthur all night. But in the end, all I got were a few casual words from him: “Chloe, you didn’t have to do this. “I need to have my own privacy and freedom. “I already celebrated my birthday with my friends, you should get some rest too.” I thought of that love letter again, and suddenly realized— Brother’s world didn’t just have me in it anymore. The love he gave me would be shared. My “young miss” temper flared up. Tears uncontrollably poured out. The gift I was going to give him. In the end, I threw it at his face. I didn’t expect the glass to shatter. A shard left a cut right under Arthur’s eye. Leaving a scar. From then on, I became his most hated person. 4 There was a knock on my door. I snapped out of my daze and quickly ran to open it. Arthur was holding a slip nightgown and a teddy bear. The burgundy nightgown hung from his knobby hand. Swaying gently, it looked especially small. My face felt hot. Arthur tiredly rubbed the bridge of his nose: “You went to sleep in my room again, and didn’t even take your things with you. “How many times is this, Chloe Song?” I remembered his previous warnings and tried to bluff my way through. I tugged at his sleeve and softened my voice: “I’m sorry, Brother. “When you’re not home, I miss you so much… “Your bed smells like you, it helps me sleep better.” Seeing him unmoved. I pressed my palms together and stared at him eagerly: “Please, please, forgive me this one time, okay?” Arthur’s Adam’s apple bobbed slightly. His eyelashes fluttered, and he said in a low voice: “Don’t let it happen again.” Ah! This is the first time today Arthur has given me a good look! I’m so happy. Taking advantage of Arthur not paying attention. I wrapped my arms around his neck and nuzzled into his chest. “You’re the best, Brother! “Can you wash my nightgown for me too? Thank you!” Arthur froze for a moment. Before he could react. I shrank back into my room like a cat that had successfully stolen a fish. Yes, the plan worked! Just a little trick. And I got the goodnight hug that had been cut off for a long time (ˉ︶ˉ). I secretly made a resolution in my heart. This holiday, I must try my best to please Brother. Make up for the mistakes I made before. And restore our relationship to how it used to be. 5 Dinner yesterday wasn’t very pleasant. So, I wanted to cook a meal for Arthur myself. But I had never cooked before. I clumsily followed a tutorial. Stupid kitchen knife, completely disobedient! How did I cut my finger T^T! Oil even splattered out of the pan, so hot… After failing three times. I finally managed to produce a passable plate of green pepper stir-fried pork. Arthur happened to come out of his room. He looked at the messy kitchen. Then looked at disheveled me. He asked in surprise: “…You made this?” I nodded repeatedly: “Yeah, yeah, Brother, I made it specially for you.” I handed him chopsticks with anticipation: “Hurry, taste it and see how my cooking skills are.” After Arthur took a bite. His expression was complex. He seemed to swallow it down using an immense amount of willpower. He drank several mouthfuls of water and sighed: “I like my meat a bit more tender, you cooked this too dry. “It’s not very good. “Don’t cook anymore, I’ll do it.” What the heck, just denying my efforts like that… He didn’t even want to give me a fake compliment! My enthusiasm was completely extinguished. Replaced by anger, massive anger! My spoiled, bad temper flared up again. I snatched the chopsticks back from Arthur’s hand. And slammed them heavily onto the bowl. “I forbid you from eating it! You’re so mean!” I turned around to untie my apron. But suddenly saw in the reflection of the glass. Arthur was staring blankly at my back, revealing a very faint smile. He even secretly took out his phone and took a picture of the green pepper stir-fried pork. Eh? I pretended I hadn’t noticed anything. And walked casually past him. I saw Arthur’s lit-up screen. And froze instantly. It was a page on a social media platform. His account name was: “Having a Sister is Really Annoying”. 6 I curled up in my room. Trying hard to suppress my frustrating and terrible mood. I searched for the account on my phone and started browsing. Arthur had pinned a post: 【My face and my life were both ruined by my sister. Well, she has to take responsibility for me. The kind that lasts a lifetime.】 Someone commented below: 【You hate your sister that much and you still want to spend a lifetime with her? Isn’t that torture?】 Arthur replied: 【What else? I even think a lifetime is too short.】 Netizen’s sharp review: 【A love-hate relationship.】 My head dropped even lower. It will take so long for him to forgive me… It seems Brother really hates me now. He also posted an update last night: 【Speechless. Every time my sister makes a mistake, she just acts cute. If acting cute worked, what would we need the police for? Even if she stares at me adorably, it’s useless.】 I checked the time. And couldn’t help but feel very defeated. So when I hugged him last night. It made him that unhappy? There was also a recently updated post. Accompanied by a heavily filtered photo of the green pepper stir-fried pork: 【The food my sister makes is so awful, it’s hard to swallow. When I said a few words, she got unhappy and started throwing chopsticks and bowls around. Being a brother is so hard.】 A netizen commented: 【Looks awful.】 Arthur replied: 【Did I ask you to eat it? You even have the nerve to review it.】 The dish I worked so hard to make looked terrible. Even netizens thought it looked bad from the photo. So Arthur’s review was actually quite objective, right? The content on this burner account was all about me. Filled with my “crimes.” It seemed like everything I did was wrong. I let out a heavy sigh. My plan to please Brother had just started. And I already wanted to give up. It’s just too hard… Forget it, I need a break. I need to relax and improve my mood! I sent a message to the person saved as “Meal Ticket.” Bossing him around: 【I want to go out and play, come pick me up, hurry up.】 7 Many people were pursuing me. Actually, I had no interest in dating. Because I felt no man in the world could be better than my brother. But Julian was the most special one among them. He looked a lot like Arthur. And he was completely obedient to me. Indulging my spoiled personality. I treated him as a meal ticket. It was like spending time with the old Arthur. We played until it got dark. Julian walked me home. As we walked down the street, he looked at my red, frozen nose and sighed helplessly: “You wore too little, you’re going to catch a cold.” I talked back impatiently: “Why do you care? “Looking pretty is enough.” Julian stopped walking and smiled gently at me: “You don’t need clothes to make you look good. “You’re already very pretty.” He took off his scarf. And wrapped it around my neck, circle by circle. “This will be a little warmer, right?” I let out a soft hum, noncommittal. I pulled the scarf up, covering half my face, only leaving my eyes exposed. Under the moonlight, Julian watched me with a smile. The corners of his lips curved up slightly: “Baby, you’re so cute.” In my mind. However, I suddenly recalled Arthur’s exclamation from a long time ago: “How is my sister so cute…” A cold snort suddenly came from above my head. I thought I was hearing things. But I saw Arthur resting his chin on his hand, half-leaning against the balcony railing. He was staring darkly at Julian and me. Clearly, he had also noticed Julian’s face, which looked extremely similar to his own. Except one had a scar under his eye. And the other didn’t. Arthur had a half-smile on his face. He asked coldly and sarcastically: “Sister, is this the new brother you found?” 8 I guiltily shrank my neck. But didn’t know how to answer. Julian was surprised for a moment, but quickly figured it out. He whispered to me: “You never mentioned it before, so you have a brother.” Arthur’s face grew even darker. Julian very politely raised his hand to greet Arthur. But Arthur kept a straight face. And turned around without a word, slamming the balcony door shut. I thought that was the end of it. I didn’t expect. Arthur came downstairs and stood in front of Julian and me. He was clearly asking me, but his dark gaze was fixed on Julian. “Are you dating?” Julian shyly pursed his lips: “I like her, I’m still pursuing her.” Arthur stayed silent for a moment. His tone suddenly became gentle: “Oh—so you also think my sister is very pretty and cute, right?” “Of course.” Arthur spoke even more gently. But with a chilling, ghostly aura: “Then have you truly understood her? “You only realize it after spending time with her, that people are different from their surface appearances. “Beneath her cute face is an arrogant, domineering, and spoiled personality. “She doesn’t need a boyfriend, she just wants a loyal dog.” Arthur firmly concluded: “I am her brother. “Besides me, no one can tolerate her bad temper, do you understand?” Julian was so shocked by these words that he couldn’t recover for a moment. His thin lips parted slightly, but he hesitated to speak. Arthur grabbed my wrist and said flatly: “Let’s go, we’re going home.”

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My sugar daddy’s father called to pressure him into marriage and urge him to have a child quickly. Liam remained unmoved and instead threatened his father: “If you dare try any tricks to produce a child for me, I’ll strangle it to death and bury you both together.” I listened from the side, trembling with fear. Seeing my reaction, Liam gently pulled me into his arms and coaxed, “Be good. I won’t get married, and I won’t have children.” I nodded timidly. I didn’t dare tell him that he actually already had a child. I gave birth to him. 1 Liam felt my palms going cold. He thought I was frightened. Afraid that he would abandon me after getting married. He frowned, his expression growing even colder. He told the person on the other end of the phone directly: “I’ll go get a vasectomy tomorrow. I guarantee I’ll end our family line.” Liam’s dad was so furious he could only stutter “You, you, you” for a long time. But Liam? He still had the presence of mind to comfort me. “Don’t be afraid. I do what I say. I hate kids the most. It’s best if I don’t have an heir.” A gentle kiss landed on my forehead. His tone was resolute. It seemed he was determined to end his bloodline. I forced a smile in return. In reality, my palms were sweating cold sweat. Liam didn’t want children. What if he found out about Noah’s existence? What if he really tried to strangle him? Liam’s warm chest leaned in, and he kissed my cheek again. “Are you not coming back again tomorrow?” Although Liam and I were in a sugar daddy/baby relationship, I always spent two or three days a week away from his house. Because I needed to go back and spend time with my child. But I told Liam I was going home to keep my parents company. I answered him nervously. “Yeah, my mom isn’t feeling well. I need to go back to do laundry and clean the house.” “I can hire a nanny for your mom.” I strongly declined: “No need, no need. My mom isn’t used to that.” If Liam really hired a nanny, wouldn’t the fact that there was a child at home be exposed? Liam remained silent for a long time. Although he was very unhappy about it, he still held it in. But he had to get some sweetness out of me in return. “Then let’s do it one more time.” “…” 2 I am intersex. Four years ago, I was betrayed by a friend. While escaping, I hid in a room with a slightly open door. And ran into Liam, who had also been drugged. I can’t even remember clearly how we started kissing. In the dim room. His hand stopped at a certain place. He paused for a good while. “What is this?” Liam looked down at me, his eyes revealing a silent question. My face flushed red, and I bit his hand. “I can do either. Both are fine.” His eyes darkened slightly, as if he understood something. We were like dry wood and a raging fire. We didn’t stop until two or three in the morning. When I woke up the next day, an arm was still draped across my waist. The man beside me had his eyes closed. His eyelashes were long, his brow bone prominent, and his profile exceptional. It was a good-looking face that seemed both passionate and heartless. Thinking of his low panting in my ear last night, my face grew hot again. I didn’t have time for regrets. I put on my clothes and hurriedly sneaked away. I thought that would be the end of it. But two weeks later, feeling unwell, I went to the hospital for a check-up. Only to discover I was pregnant. 3 My body is different from normal people’s. I had originally planned to live my whole life alone. But this sudden little life disrupted my plans. He is my precious baby. The doctor said my body needed proper rest to keep the baby. So I quit my job and went back to my hometown. I didn’t return until Noah was almost old enough for kindergarten. I found a job as a waiter at a club as a transition. One day, I was intentionally given a hard time by a group of people, and Liam saved me. “What are you spacing out for?” The man stood tall, his features cold and stern. An oppressive aura naturally emanated from him. We hadn’t seen each other in three years. Yet I recognized him at a glance. But he seemed not to recognize me anymore. I suppressed the turmoil in my heart and awkwardly thanked him. “Thank you, sir.” Liam stared at my face, seemingly noticing the shift in my emotions from expectation to disappointment. He asked, “Do I know you?” I froze, lowered my head, and said, “No.” He looked down at me and didn’t say anything more. He seemed to tacitly accept my answer. 4 Liam was a good person. He even arranged a very good new job for me. To thank him, I often brought him coffee or lunch and snacks I made myself. He accepted them all one by one. Without any disdain. I said Mr. Sterling was a good person, helped me out of a tight spot, and gave me a job. When my colleagues heard this, they looked as if they had seen a ghost. “Are we talking about the same Mr. Sterling?” After delivering things so many times. Liam and I became more and more familiar. I could even go on business trips with him. Once, I accompanied him to a banquet. He got drunk and asked me if I wanted to be with him. I looked at him blankly. “What?” Seeing me staring at him blankly, Liam chuckled softly. His tone was casual, yet revealing a hint of helplessness. “You blockhead. I’ve waited for you for so long, and I still have to be the one to ask?” I didn’t understand his meaning, nor did I dare refute him. He looked at me, the emotion in his eyes slowly deepening, and he said slowly: “Be with me, and I can give you whatever you want.” I finally understood. Liam wanted to keep me as his sugar baby. He hugged me, his burning breath sweeping across my neck. “Why do you smell like milk?” I froze. Noah was still at the age where he drank formula, so it was normal for me to smell a bit like milk. Liam’s words suddenly threw me into a panic. TV shows always say wealthy families never let their bloodline live outside. I was afraid that if Liam knew Noah was his child, he would take him away. Fortunately, Liam didn’t probe further. A low chuckle came from his throat, his voice slightly hoarse. “The cookies you made also tasted like this. Same smell as you. I even thought…” He didn’t finish his sentence, but I understood his meaning from his actions and his eyes. My face instantly flushed red: “No! I don’t, don’t…” No wonder every time I brought him cookies, he looked at me with such a meaningful expression. He probably thought I liked him and was intentionally seducing him. When he found out I was different from normal people, he didn’t show a shocked or disgusted expression. Instead, it was an out-of-control excitement. A fierce possessiveness and desire surged in his eyes. “If you get pregnant, will you produce milk?” “?” I was teased until I tried to escape, only to be dragged back by him. It wasn’t until Liam found out I couldn’t have children that he finally calmed down a bit. 5 After getting together with Liam, he treated me even better. He was never stingy with food, clothing, or expenses, and remembered all my preferences. If I casually mentioned something was delicious, I would be eating it the next day. Sometimes I even hallucinated that we weren’t in a sugar daddy relationship, but were actually dating. But he never brought it up. And I didn’t dare to ask. Afraid of bursting this illusion of warmth. Until that phone call urging him to marry. Liam became very strange. It was like he switched from a meat diet to a vegetarian one. He only used his hands to give me pleasure. It was the first time I had seen so many different toys. Each one was a different experience. Liam would ask in my ear: “Does it feel good, baby? Do you like it?” I bit my lip, enduring it. When I looked at him, my eyes were misty, hazy, and pitiful. Liam stared at me unblinkingly. He held back so hard the veins on his neck popped out. Even though he was incredibly jealous of the toys in his hands. His expression showing how much he hated them. He still didn’t actually do it. This had never happened before. His possessiveness towards me had always been very strong. He would absolutely never let toys replace him. During the process, he would still ask how I felt. If I said I didn’t like it or it was uncomfortable, he would get mad. “Don’t like it? That means your hubby isn’t working hard enough and hasn’t satisfied you. Let’s switch to a better one.” If I said I liked it, he would get even madder. “You like this, what about me? Is this thing better than me?” Anyway, whatever I said was wrong. So I just stopped talking. When he saw me turn my face away and cry silently, he would lean over, pull me into his arms, and wipe my tears. He’d say resentfully: “You just know I can’t bear to see you cry.” I had no idea what he was struggling with. 6 After we finished, Liam went to the bathroom to take a cold shower again. I rested for a while before taking out my phone to reply to messages. In the contact saved as 【Mom】, there were several new voice messages. All of them were from Noah. As soon as I clicked play, I heard his soft, childish voice. “Daddy, I fell down at kindergarten today, but I didn’t cwy. The teacher pwaised me.” The next few voice messages were all him talking about what he did all day. My heart melted completely listening to him. After a lot of build-up, he finally couldn’t help but ask in the last message: “Daddy, when are you coming home? I miss you.” He was still small, right at the age where he clung to people. Not seeing me for a day and he already started missing me. I was just about to reply. When Liam’s voice suddenly came from behind me. “Who is that? Why did I hear a child’s voice?” My body stiffened. I immediately exited the chat interface and locked the screen. I turned around and saw Liam getting into bed after his shower. My heart was pounding, but I didn’t dare show a hint of nervousness. “You misheard, I was just scrolling through videos.” Liam raised an eyebrow and didn’t overthink it. “Is that so.” We fell asleep in each other’s arms as usual that night. Thinking of Noah’s words, I tentatively asked Liam. “Can I… go back tomorrow?” Liam’s closed eyes opened again. He frowned, somewhat displeased. “It’s not time yet, and you want to go back again?” He bit my ear in frustration, his words ambiguous. “Do you have a wife and kid to keep company when you go back?” My breath hitched, and I immediately retorted, “How is that possible?” Liam chuckled darkly, “When you act like this, it really makes me wonder if you have a second home besides this one.” Hearing this, my heart almost jumped out of my chest. I quickly leaned over and kissed him. “I don’t. Someone in my family fell, I need to go back and check.” Liam lost his temper completely after I kissed him. Ultimately, he agreed. “You really don’t have a second home?” I lowered my head, looking at my nose, centering my focus. “I don’t.” “If you do, you’re dead meat.” “…” 7 Liam’s father despises me. In his eyes, two men being together is abnormal. So he continued to introduce different women to Liam. Liam ignored them all. He would tell me everything he went to do. Like right now. 【Be good, baby. I’ll bring you something delicious when I get back.】 He went to headquarters for a meeting today. He had just left for a little while and already sent me dozens of messages. I felt a bit helpless. 【Okay.】 After sitting for too long, I closed my phone and prepared to go to the pantry to get some hot water. As soon as I walked in, I heard colleagues gossiping about Liam. “It’s true, Mr. Sterling’s childhood sweetheart came back from abroad. He went on a date with her right after his meeting.” “No wonder Mr. Sterling never had any women around him. Turns out his heart was already taken.” “I have photo proof, look.” I stood frozen in front of the water dispenser, even forgetting what I came to do. “Hey, Julian, aren’t you on good terms with Mr. Sterling? Look and see if you recognize this woman.” I was pulled over and saw the photo on my colleague’s phone. I didn’t recognize the woman, but the man next to her was indeed Liam. A handsome man and a beautiful woman, they really looked like a perfect match. I gave an awkward smile and said, “Sorry, I don’t recognize her.” “Oh well.” I walked out of the pantry like a soulless body. I pulled out my phone and messaged Liam. 【What are you doing?】 He replied quickly: 【In a meeting, what’s wrong?】 But the meeting was already over. He was lying to me. My entire body went ice cold. Liam’s abnormal behavior lately seemed to have an explanation. The person he liked had returned. So he didn’t need me anymore. We only had a transactional relationship. Who he liked, who he was with. I had no right to ask. He lied to me, but haven’t I kept things from him too? I could only reply: 【Nothing.】 But my heart felt like a boulder was pressing down on it, making it hard to breathe. 8 Liam wasn’t at the company today. So I took the day off to pick up Noah from school. Originally, I thought that after Liam and I were no longer just a transaction. After we officially got together, I would tell him. But then I learned he hated children. So I kept it an even tighter secret. But maybe I won’t have to hide it anymore in the future. Little Noah was very happy to see me when he came out. Because usually, his grandmother picked him up. “Daddy!” He ran over. His soft, fair little face turned rosy. My heart melted completely, and I picked him up. “Are you happy?” “Happy!” He looked incredibly cute when he smiled, his eyes curving. He looked a lot like me, but you could also see traces of Liam in him. Just seeing him made me feel content. If Liam likes someone else, then let him. Having my precious son is enough for me. I took Noah to the mall to buy toys, and also went to a bakery to buy cake. This bakery was very expensive and very famous. “Daddy, can I have two pieces of cake today?” “You can, but don’t tell Grandma.” As we walked out after buying the cake, we bumped into two unexpected people. “Julian?” A familiar voice sounded from ahead. I froze in place instantly. Looking up, I saw Liam and the woman from the photo. I heard she was the daughter of Liam’s professor, from an academic family. The two grew up together. She was looking at me, but I didn’t dare look at her. An indescribable soreness surged from the bottom of my heart, rushing violently to my throat. It stung unbearably, like something was blocking it. I was afraid to see them. Liam and she were childhood sweethearts, a match made in heaven. I was the shameful lover kept in the dark. The fake pearl occupying the magpie’s nest. Liam’s eyes flickered when he saw me, seemingly wanting to say something. Then he saw the little boy I was holding. He frowned and asked, “Who is he?” Noah’s eyes looked exactly like his, just much more innocent and tender. Two similar pairs of eyes stared at each other, harboring the same confusion. I wanted to lie: “He is…” But children can’t lie. Noah tugged at my hand. He looked up and asked me: “Daddy, who is he?” Liam froze. Then his expression changed drastically, becoming dark and terrifying. His voice was slow, carrying a strong sense of oppression. “What did he call you?”

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I had a crush on my childhood best friend for years, but I never dared to confess because he was homophobic. At the New Year’s Eve dinner, I unexpectedly heard him say he already liked someone. I, who usually never touched a drop of alcohol, got completely wasted that night. But… drinking ruins things. When I woke up the next morning and saw my best friend on the pillow next to me. I knew I was screwed. Before I even had time to run away, the door was pushed open by a group of people. My best friend’s parents, and my own parents, just stood there dumbfounded at the door, staring at us. “Mom, Dad! Mr. and Mrs. Vance! It’s not what you…” Before I could finish, my best friend, who had just woken up and was covered in ambiguous marks, put his arm around my shoulder from behind. “It is exactly what you see. We are together.” 1 I looked at the person leaning next to me in disbelief. What is he saying? Either I drank too much last night and my brain wasn’t clear yet. Or Arthur’s brain was broken. “No, we…” The words I was about to say got stuck in my throat because of Arthur’s actions. He pulled the blanket and wrapped me up completely. When he spoke again, his voice was a bit hoarse, with a hint of a reckless tone. “How about… you give us some time to get ourselves cleaned up first, and then we’ll come out to accept your interrogation?” As soon as Arthur spoke, the expressions of everyone present changed. “Ahem, okay, you guys clean up properly. No rush, no rush. We’ll wait for you outside.” Just go, just go. If you don’t go soon, I’m going to spontaneously combust. My brain hadn’t processed it just now. As soon as Arthur spoke, I realized I wasn’t wearing anything. Judging from the commotion we made last night. I probably wasn’t very clean right now either. The door closed, and I reacted like there was a spring attached to my butt. I immediately jumped away. 2 But that one move left Arthur completely exposed to the air. He didn’t seem embarrassed at all. Noticing me looking at him. He even lay back down comfortably. Letting me look. “Pervert!” Arthur’s tone was laughing. “Chloe, get it straight. Right now, it’s because you wrapped yourself in the entire blanket that I’m like this.” Fine. I lay back down wearily. I wasn’t feeling as embarrassed anymore. Just worried about what to do about the current situation. “What should we tell them?” “Just tell them whatever.” Arthur was fiddling with something next to me, his arm brushing against me every now and then. The intimate contact couldn’t help but make me think of last night. The mood that had just calmed down suddenly flared up with anger again. “Arthur! Why didn’t you stop me last night?!” I was drunk last night. But Arthur wasn’t. He accidentally got injured at work a while ago. He was currently in the dietary restriction phase. So he didn’t have a single drop of alcohol last night. He was sober from start to finish. “Chloe, how can you turn the tables on me? Did I not try to stop you? I tried, but it was useless.” He suddenly sat up from the bed. Not caring at all about his appearance, he dug his clothes out of the closet and threw them on casually. “Did you forget? I’m injured. I’m a patient. How could I possibly stop a normal, drunk adult male like you?” I suspected he was tricking me, but I had no proof. “Put your clothes on. Let’s deal with your parents and my parents first, then we’ll deal with things between us.” 3 Just like that, wearing Arthur’s clothes. Arthur and I sat in a row in front of our four elders. Listening to Arthur accept their judgment. “So the person you said you liked last night was Chloe?” “Yes.” “So you guys have been together for a long time?” “To be accurate, we only got together last night.” “Are you two serious?” My thoughts had flown who knows where. I suddenly felt my hand being grabbed by the person next to me. “Yes.” Arthur smiled very gently. As if everything he just said was true. But I didn’t feel a single trace of emotion. Because I knew Arthur didn’t like me. He was homophobic. And I was the one who had secretly loved him for many years but didn’t dare to confess. Our family and the Vance family had known each other for many years. Arthur and I had known each other since birth. We went to elementary school, middle school, and high school together, only separating in college. Later, after graduating from college, we both returned to this city to develop our careers. It could be said that in my life, apart from my parents. The person who occupied the most memories was Arthur. I don’t know when my feelings for him changed. From always being good friends and good buddies, to wanting to be his partner and stay by his side for a lifetime. But I didn’t dare to confess. Just because he didn’t like men. But Arthur had never been in a relationship all these years. I thought I might still have a faint chance. But I didn’t expect… Last night, at the two families’ New Year’s Eve dinner. Faced with Mrs. Vance’s pressure to get married, Arthur said he already liked someone. If it were anyone else, I might have thought he was just brushing her off. But if it was Arthur. 4 Then it was true. Because he wouldn’t bother lying about such things. Or brush it off. Listening beside him, my heart went cold. It seemed I completely had no chance. So, as someone whose secret crush had come to nothing, I drank cup after cup until I was drunk. My last memory was Mrs. Vance telling Arthur to take me back to my room to rest. The Vance family had a room specifically for me. My family also had a room specifically for Arthur. But… why did I wake up in Arthur’s room today? I had no idea. “Since you two are serious, we aren’t traditional-minded people, but I want to tell you something. “Given the relationship between our two families, if you really decide to be together now, and in the future you can’t make it work, we will absolutely not distance ourselves because of your little issues. No matter how unhappy you are, you’ll have to endure it when the time comes.” My heart skipped a beat. This was the worst-case scenario I had imagined. Now it was suddenly spoken out loud. I felt terrible. “Mrs. Vance, actually Arthur and I…” “Mom, can’t you hope for the best for us? Don’t worry, I will never break up with him in this lifetime, unless… he doesn’t want me anymore.” A trial, raised high and put down gently. My parents were strangely calm. They hardly said a few words from start to finish. Instead, I was the one who felt very uneasy from beginning to end. “Chloe, let’s go home.” I walked numbly towards the door. But after taking two steps, I realized my hand was still tightly held by Arthur. He smiled and leaned close to me. “Don’t close your window tonight.” I knew what he meant. I hesitated to speak, and finally just nodded. I followed my parents home. Fifteen hours after the incident, I heard the sound of my window being gently pushed open. I got up and met the eyes of Arthur, who had flipped in from outside. “Want to talk?” 5 Arthur didn’t like me. “Since things have already happened, it’s not good to say everything was a misunderstanding. If I really said that today, my parents would definitely kick me out of the house on the first day of the New Year.” Right. “And last night… you were the one who got taken advantage of. If I had just laid everything out, wouldn’t that be selling you out?” Arthur sat with his legs spread on the chair. Even though he had been working for a few years. In front of people close to him, he still had that reckless vibe. Like a kid. “You haven’t come out to your parents, have you?” “I have.” “Ah? You came out to your parents a long time ago?!” Arthur seemed like a wolf whose tail had been stepped on; his aura suddenly became stronger. He wasn’t satisfied just sitting on the chair anymore. In two steps, he crossed over to my bed, planting his hands on my shoulders. “Chloe, how many years have we known each other?” Facing Arthur’s handsome face so close, I still couldn’t help but swallow. “Twenty-seven years.” “Right! Twenty-seven years, and you coming out, such a huge thing, I didn’t even know! What do you take me for?!” I looked at Arthur with confusion. Wasn’t it because he was homophobic that I didn’t dare tell him? Could it be that just because we’re good friends and good buddies, he could magically not be homophobic? I brushed Arthur’s hands away. “Aren’t we talking about last night? If you don’t have anything else to say, I want to rest.” I was tossed around all night last night. And spent all day today worrying about this. 6 I didn’t sleep at all. I finally felt sleepy at night, and Arthur popped up again. “Oh, right, let’s talk about last night.” He seemed to finally grasp the main point. And retreated back to the chair. “Anyway, let’s just pretend to be a couple for now.” After waiting for a long time, I thought he was going to come up with some brilliant idea. And this was it? I pursed my lips. I wanted to ask him, aren’t you homophobic? Then why are you willing to pretend to be a couple with me? But I quickly suppressed that thought. Just pretending. It’s not real anyway. Of course he doesn’t care. It’s me who’s suffering. The person I like is right in front of me, and I don’t dare do anything. The more I thought about it, the more depressed I got. So I asked him to leave again. But Arthur didn’t leave immediately. Instead, his hands were hidden in his pockets, who knows what he was hiding. He didn’t make a move for a long time. I yawned and looked at him with a cold face. “If you’re fine, can you go back first? Or if you have something, let’s talk about it in a couple of days.” Arthur finally moved. But he moved towards me. He lunged onto my bed. His ears red, he pulled out the hidden object. “Let me take a look.” “Look at what?” “Well… last night, I think I might have used a bit too much force. You kept crying. I was thinking you might be hurt, so let me check. If you are, I’ll put some medicine on it.” I instantly realized what Arthur was talking about. What do you mean I kept crying? That wasn’t… it wasn’t from pain. And even if I was really hurt, would I need him to help me? Seeing I wasn’t moving, Arthur thought I was being shy. “Don’t be shy. It’s your own body, and I saw everything last night anyway.” Saying that, he was about to make a move. I quickly grabbed my waistband and kicked Arthur off the bed. “Get lost!” 7 “If you have any other discomfort, remember to tell me. If it’s really bad, we’ll go to the hospital.” I lay on the bed. Feeling no desire to live. In the end, I still let Arthur have his way. Who told him to look at me with those sparkling eyes every time; I could never refuse him. This time was no exception. “I know, you can get lost now.” I heard rustling sounds in the room, presumably him packing his things. When the room quieted down. I was just about to see if he had already left. “Chloe.” “Hmm?” Arthur hadn’t left; he was sitting on the windowsill. Propping his head up, looking at me. “Do you have someone you like?” My heart sank. Did he figure it out? Recalling everything from morning until now, it shouldn’t be. I didn’t think I exposed myself anywhere. “Why do you ask?” “Otherwise, why would you be so resistant to us pretending to be a couple?” Arthur’s words instantly made me relax. So that’s what he thought. That’s fine then. “Of course I do. You have someone you want to develop a relationship with, aren’t I allowed to have one too?” I don’t know if it was my illusion. But I felt Arthur’s expression turn weird. As if he were angry. “Sure, why not? But before we end this fake relationship, you’d better not have any developments with your crush, understand?” “You’d better do the same.” Arthur left. Before leaving, he even closed the window for me. But my heart couldn’t calm down. 8 What was this? A brief fulfillment of a dream? Although I didn’t know how things would develop later, I knew that my secret crush on Arthur couldn’t let him find out. Otherwise, even this brief pretense of being a couple couldn’t continue. “What?! You two… you guys? Are together?” Liam almost spat out the water in his mouth. I leaned away slightly. “We’re pretending to be together.” He wiped the corner of his mouth and leaned close to me. His eyes twitching like he had a cramp. “You two did this and that, did everything you’re supposed to do, and now you’re telling me it’s fake?” Thinking about it gave me a headache too. “It was all an accident. I drank too much that day.” Liam pouted, “I think he probably has feelings for you too. You drank too much, but he didn’t. How could he not push you away?” I sighed faintly, “Did you forget? He’s injured, and you know what I’m like when I drink too much.” Liam seemed to recall what I looked like when I was drunk. After a long moment, he finally accepted this fact. “I forgot, when you’re drunk, you’re harder to hold down than a cow. And meeting the object of your long-term crush, it’s indeed easy to do some irrational things.” Even though. I didn’t really like this description. “Then aren’t you going to take this opportunity to seize the chance?” “He won’t like me. And with things like this now, it’s even harder to say I like him. I always feel like, that night, I did it on purpose.” Liam thought about it. In the end, he still nodded. “But I feel like there’s still a lot of…” “Feel like what?” Just as Liam was getting into it, a familiar voice dropped from above our heads. 9 The next second, Arthur sat down next to me. I turned to look at him, a bit dazed. “Why are you here?” “Why can’t I be here? I just sent you a message and you didn’t reply. Turns out you were meeting with him.” Arthur leaned slightly closer to me, looking at Liam somewhat provocatively. Liam, who had almost exposed my secret crush, felt very guilty at this moment. I picked up the phone on the table and looked at it. Arthur had indeed sent me a message, but we were so engrossed in our chat just now. I didn’t notice. “Mom and Dad asked us to go home, they have something to tell us. I dropped by to pick you up.” “Ah, okay.” I looked at Liam. “You should go, you should go. I can just go back myself.” I don’t know what Liam said that displeased Arthur. The guy who looked to be in a good mood just a moment ago suddenly had a long face. I couldn’t care less. I grabbed Arthur and left. I thought my parents just wanted to chat simply about me and Arthur. I didn’t expect… “Live together?!” “Yeah! Your relationship is developing so well, living together is only a matter of time. You’re both busy, so moving in together is just right.” My mom really knew how to drop a bombshell quietly. When they caught us red-handed that day, I thought my mom was very indifferent. Turns out, she was waiting for me here. I turned and gave Arthur a look. “Sure, actually I had the same idea. After all, you only truly know if you’re compatible when you live together. Right, Arthur?” What a load of crap. Right now, I really couldn’t see through Arthur. Doesn’t he have someone he likes? Isn’t he homophobic? 10 Why was he still rushing to live with me? Outnumbered, my mom made the final decision. She had Arthur move in with me. The next day, his suitcase was already sitting in my house. “What’s the meaning of this?” Arthur was currently unpacking. Hearing my question, he looked at me with a very innocent expression. “What meaning could I have? Didn’t Auntie ask me to move in?” “Couldn’t you just refuse?” “I could have refused, but if I did, they would definitely suspect something. Do you think they could accept the truth of our situation?” Arthur really understood me well. And my parents too. After all, when I came out back then, it took my mom a very long time to accept it. If they knew that Arthur and I had accidentally slept together. That would indeed be very hard to accept. “Fine, then you sleep in the guest room.” “How about… you go check the guest room first?” Confused, I turned and went to the guest room, looking at the completely empty space. My head instantly started pounding. “Where’s the bed?!” “Probably they still sensed something. After all, during this time, you haven’t met me much. How did we look like a passionately in love couple?” During this time, Arthur had indeed asked me out. But I had never dared to meet him. After that day, the memories I lost due to being drunk gradually surfaced in my mind. From hazy memories at first to clear ones later. Every minute, every second of that night, finally appeared clearly in my dreams. This made me even more afraid to face Arthur. So, facing his invitations, I rejected them all under the guise of being too busy with work. Thinking about it now, I was indeed the one who didn’t do well enough. 11 “Fine, but we agree, we can sleep together, but no crossing the line.” Arthur leaned against the wall, arms crossed. Looking at me with an ambiguous expression. I used to think I understood Arthur very well, after all, we grew up together. You could say I was the person who understood him best. But now. Or rather, since that night, I couldn’t understand what Arthur was thinking at all. Does he hate me? Or is he simply afraid of trouble, wants to take responsibility, and that’s why he got close to me. “Fine, but did you forget about your habit of being restless in your sleep?” Under Arthur’s teasing. I blushed. I do indeed have that habit. Sleeping is like fighting. Since I was little, I could only sleep alone. Otherwise, the other person would definitely get kicked by me a few times during the night. But facing Arthur, I only wanted to say. I can lose the battle, but not the attitude. “I’ve already changed! I sleep very peacefully now. That was when I was a kid. You haven’t slept with me recently, how do you know what I’m like when I sleep now?” “Oh~ Fine, then I guess I was judging a gentleman with a petty heart.” Although I won the verbal argument. But really having to share a bed with Arthur. I was nervous to death inside. Lying on the bed, listening to the sound of water coming from inside. For a moment, I even wanted to just go sleep on the sofa outside. We aren’t a real couple. Why do we have to sleep together? The more I thought about it, the more I felt I was right. So I hurriedly climbed out of bed, ready to grab a blanket and sleep on the sofa outside. But as soon as I turned around, I bumped into a warm embrace. “Where are you going?” Arthur’s slightly hoarse voice sounded above my head. I violently stepped back. Almost bumping into the wardrobe door. Only then did I see clearly what he looked like now. 12 Arthur was wearing the same pajamas as me. It was when he came to my house before, saw them, and insisted I give him the link to buy the same ones. Now, in this ambiguous atmosphere, it felt even more weird. His hair wasn’t even dry yet. And he hurried out. “No, nowhere. I just suddenly felt you were right, I don’t sleep well. It’s better if I don’t sleep with you, so I don’t disturb you.” Saying that, I was about to walk out. But Arthur reached out and stopped me. “It’s fine, I don’t mind. Plus, I have a solution.” Have a solution? What solution could he have? He couldn’t possibly tie me up before sleeping, could he? “Or, are you scared?” People really can’t resist reverse psychology. As soon as someone provokes them, they fall for it. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be in the situation I am now. I could feel the rise and fall of the breathing of the person next to me. Even though the sound wasn’t loud. But it could easily affect my breathing rhythm, as well as my heartbeat. Sharing a bed like this. To be honest, Arthur and I had experienced it quite a few times. But those were just childhood memories. As adults, or rather, after I realized my feelings for him, this was only the second time. My mind was full of the scenes from that night. My whole body felt like it was going to catch fire. Forget it. If I lose face, I lose face. I can’t just stare blankly for a whole night tonight. “Arthur, I think I still…” I had just lifted a corner of the blanket when the person next to me suddenly rolled over. An arm pressed on my waist, pushing down my movement to get up. Then Arthur leaned his whole body over. He intimately pulled me into his arms. Just when my whole body was stiff and I didn’t know what to do. He suddenly nuzzled my cheek. “Chloe, are you…” “Yes!” “Do you hate me a lot?” 13 I didn’t expect Arthur to ask such a question. Even less did I expect that when I wanted to directly admit my feelings for him, he would ask such a question. Both of us froze at the same time. I could feel Arthur’s hand on my waist suddenly tighten, as if stimulated by my words. “You hate me?” In the eerily quiet bedroom, Arthur spoke first. His tone carried a deep sense of disbelief. As if he didn’t expect me to say those words. “No, that’s not what I meant. I thought you were going to ask…” Arthur suddenly reached out and closed the distance between us. Almost without me anticipating it, I bumped straight into his body. When this guy usually wears clothes, he doesn’t look like he has much muscle, but in reality, his muscles are very well-defined. Bumping into him so suddenly. I felt like my whole body was not well. My body hurt. And Arthur, like a spoiled child throwing a tantrum. Buried his head next to my neck. His tone was full of grievance and unreasonableness. “How could you hate me! We grew up together, aren’t I your best friend? I haven’t done anything to let you down, why do you hate me? Is it just because of what happened that night? But you weren’t unhappy that night either!” Hearing Arthur’s words. My head started pounding. My subconscious told me that if I didn’t stop what he was going to say next, it was very likely he would say some earth-shattering things. So I reached out, trying to push Arthur’s head away. 14 Who knew this guy was harder to hold down than a pig before the New Year. He stubbornly wouldn’t let me touch him. His head was buried dead tight next to my neck. “Am I wrong? You haven’t forgotten about that night either. If you were going to be angry, why didn’t you tell me you were angry back then? Now that so much time has passed, you’re telling me you hate me. Chloe, this is unfair to me!” “It has nothing to do with that. Can you get up first? Don’t you know how heavy you are?” If he pressed any further. I felt I wasn’t far from death either. Sure enough, Arthur heard me say that. He silently loosened the arm wrapped around my waist a bit, and his body lifted slightly off me. But not much. The distance between us was like that night. If I just raised my head slightly, I could kiss Arthur’s lips in the dark. Realizing what I was thinking, I quickly turned my head away, trying not to face him. But Arthur noticed my movement. He suddenly reached out and grabbed my chin, forcefully turning my head back. “You’re feeling guilty. I was right.” “I am not.” “If you’re not, why are you hiding from me? Chloe, do you know how sad I am? No matter how much we fought before, you never said you hated me. And now you hate me over this one thing?” Actually, I really wanted to say. This isn’t the same as our childhood play-fights. What happened recently touched the bottom line. Arthur’s breath hit my face. For a moment, I didn’t know if it was our current distance or his overly hot breath that was making my whole body start to heat up. Especially my face.

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The day my uncle reported me, he sent a red envelope in the family group chat. It was for a hundred dollars, with the message: “Good things are coming.” Twenty-three people grabbed a piece of the red envelope, and eight replied “Congratulations.” No one asked what they were congratulating. Because the day before, my uncle had said in the group: “Someone’s going to audit Ethan’s company.” I looked at my phone screen and smiled. Let them audit. I had been waiting for this day for three months. 1. My uncle’s name is George Williams, my dad’s older brother. My dad’s name was Arthur Williams. He passed away from stomach cancer six years ago. When he passed, my uncle came over. Not to pay his final respects. But to take the bankbook. “How much money did your dad save up in his life?” That was the first thing he said when he walked through the door. My mom was crying on the bed, and I stood in the doorway. “Uncle George, my dad hasn’t even been buried yet.” “I know,” he said, sitting down. “But bank matters can’t wait. If your dad had savings, we need to sort it out first. The Williams family’s money can’t just go to outsiders.” Outsiders. He glanced at my mom. My mom had been married into the Williams family for twenty-six years, and in his mouth, she was an outsider. I didn’t argue with him that day. My dad had $110,000 in his account. My uncle took $60,000, calling it “his share of the brotherhood over the years.” My mom stopped me, saying: “Don’t fight with your Uncle George. Your dad just left us, and he’s the only elder left in the Williams family.” I didn’t fight. I was twenty-four that year, two years out of college. My salary was $4,500 a month. $60,000 was more than a year of my salary. I remembered that. Later, I started a company. It wasn’t some legendary tale. I just started by selling things at a flea market, then moved into wholesale snacks, and slowly built it up bit by bit. By the third year, my annual revenue surpassed five million. By the fifth year, it surpassed twenty million. My uncle came to see me. “Ethan, your cousin Kevin is working odd jobs, very unstable. Isn’t your company short on people? Let him come help you.” I looked at him. “Uncle George, the company has a hiring process—” “What process?” My uncle slammed his hand on the table. “He’s your own cousin! If your dad were still alive, would I even have to beg you?” My mom tugged at my shirt from the side. “Ethan, just let Kevin come. We’re all family.” So, Kevin joined the company. I put him in the purchasing department. A base salary of $8,000, plus commissions—he could make $12,000 to $15,000 a month. Double what he was making before. My uncle was very satisfied. He was satisfied for three months. Then he came back. “Give Kevin the Purchasing Manager position.” “Uncle George, he’s only been here for three months. He has no experience—” “What do you mean, no experience? If you can be the boss, your cousin, who is even more outstanding than you, can certainly be a purchasing manager!” I looked at him. “Uncle George, this is my company.” “Your company?” My uncle laughed. “If your dad were still alive, would this company even be yours?” That sentence was like a thorn, piercing right into me. I didn’t say anything. The next day, I promoted Kevin to Deputy Purchasing Manager. Not because of my uncle’s words. But because my mom cried all night again. 2. After Kevin became Deputy Manager, the demands from my uncle’s family started to escalate. First, my aunt, Mary, called: “Ethan, your cousin is getting married, and he’s a little short on the down payment for the house. Loan him $300,000.” “Loan?” “Yes, loan. It’s not like he won’t pay you back.” $300,000. I did have money in the company accounts at the time, but it was all tied up in cash flow. Pulling out $300,000 wasn’t easy. My mom said: “Just loan it to him. It’s family.” So I loaned it to him. Transferred straight to Kevin’s account. Didn’t even get an IOU. Then my uncle came again: “Your grandmother isn’t doing well. You pay her hospital bills. You make a lot of money.” I paid it. $80,000. Then my aunt came again: “Kevin’s getting married, and we don’t have enough for the banquet. Pitch in $50,000.” I pitched in. Then Kevin came: “Bro, I’m a little short on buying a car. Loan me $100,000.” I loaned it to him. I keep a notebook. Every single transaction is recorded in it. It’s not that I’m petty. It’s that I discovered something— My uncle was telling people outside: “My nephew’s company, to be honest, relies on the Williams family. Could he be where he is today if I hadn’t pulled him up back then? Giving us a little money is nothing.” A classmate of mine told me this. She heard it at the grocery store. My uncle was chatting with someone while buying groceries. “Ethan makes so much, what’s it to him to give us a little? If it weren’t for the Williams family name, who would do business with him?” $1.46 million. Eight years. That’s the total amount I had spent on my uncle’s family. His exact words were, “giving us a little money is nothing.” Kevin worked at the company for three years. He was relatively honest the first year. Starting the second year, purchasing costs kept getting higher and higher. I asked him: “Why is this batch of raw materials 15% more expensive than last quarter?” He said: “The market price went up. You know that.” I checked the purchasing prices of our competitors. They hadn’t gone up. I then looked into the suppliers Kevin was dealing with. And I discovered something. Of the three suppliers Kevin recommended, two had legal representatives who were his college classmates. The suppliers quoted high prices, and Kevin signed off on the inventory. Where did the price difference go? I had finance audit all the purchase orders Kevin was responsible for. Three years. Total price difference: $870,000. $870,000. I gave him $300,000 for his house down payment. $100,000 for his car. Plus his salary, commissions, and holiday bonuses. His way of repaying me was stealing $870,000 from my company. Sitting in my office that night, looking at that report, my hands were shaking. Not out of fear. But out of anger. 3. I didn’t expose Kevin immediately. I did something else. I hired a professional accounting firm to conduct a comprehensive audit of the company’s accounts for the past three years. The public explanation was, “The company is seeking financing and needs to standardize its financials.” Kevin didn’t take it seriously. He even told my uncle: “Ethan’s looking for financing. Make sure he makes me a Vice President when it happens.” The day the audit results came out, I locked my office door and spent the entire afternoon reading it. Besides Kevin’s issues, the audit revealed something else— Because of the fake accounts Kevin had created, several company expenses were misclassified. As a result, the company had overpaid nearly $500,000 in taxes over the past three years. $500,000. I could apply for a tax refund for this amount. But I didn’t apply for it immediately. Because I suddenly thought of something. If someone reported me for tax evasion and the IRS came to audit my books— What would they find? They would find that I hadn’t evaded taxes. They would find that I had overpaid taxes. And they would also find that Kevin had been cooking the books for three years. I closed the audit report. Then, I fired Kevin. The reason given was “company restructuring and downsizing.” I gave him severance pay. Sent him off with dignity. Kevin even shook my hand when he left: “Bro, thanks for taking care of me these past few years.” I looked at his face. Smiled. “You’re welcome.” My uncle exploded. He stormed into my house that very night. “What is the meaning of this?!” “The company is restructuring. It has nothing to do with Kevin personally.” “Bullshit! He was doing a great job. What right do you have to fire him?” “Uncle George, it was a company decision.” “A company decision? Your company? If it weren’t—” He was about to say that sentence again. I cut him off. “Yes, my company. My name is on the business license.” My uncle glared at me. “Ethan, don’t forget your last name is Williams.” “I haven’t forgotten.” I looked right into his eyes. “But the name Williams was given to me by my dad. Not you.” My uncle slammed the door when he left. The noise was so loud the whole building could hear it. My mom was pale with fear. “Ethan, how could you speak to your uncle like that…” “Mom, he stole $870,000 from my company.” My mom froze. “What?” “Kevin took kickbacks at the company. For three years. $870,000.” My mom sat on the sofa, speechless for a long time. After a while, she finally said something. “Well… just let it go. We’re all family…” I looked at my mom. “$1.46 million.” “Huh?” “In these eight years, I’ve spent $1.46 million on Uncle George’s family. Add the $870,000 Kevin stole. That’s a total of $2.33 million.” I enunciated every word. “Mom, you tell me, which relatives are worth $2.33 million?” My mom stopped talking. 4. A month after Kevin was fired, I noticed something. The company’s financial system login records showed that after Kevin left, someone tried to log in using his old account. The login failed because I had already changed the password. But the IP address of the login attempt was from my uncle’s house. I had the IT department check it. It wasn’t just once. Over the past month, there were seventeen login attempts. All from my uncle’s IP. They were trying to get into the company’s financial system. Why? To find “evidence” of my tax evasion. I looked through the backups of Kevin’s computer from when he was still employed. I found that before he left, he had copied a massive amount of files. Purchase orders, expense reports, tax return forms. Some were real. Some he had altered. He had modified the traces of his fake accounts, making those numbers look like I was evading taxes. I sat in front of my computer, staring at the screen. They weren’t reporting me on impulse. They had been preparing for at least half a year. They started collecting materials and modifying data while Kevin was still at the company. The firing was just the catalyst. They had been planning to take me down for a long time. That day, I called Director Martinez at the accounting firm. “Director Martinez, regarding that audit report, please generate a detailed version for me.” “Mr. Williams, how detailed?” “Detailed down to the original vouchers, cash flow, and final destination of every single fraudulent transaction.” “Understood.” “Also,” I added, “hold off on the tax refund for now. Wait for my notice.” Director Martinez paused. “Mr. Williams, are you waiting for someone?” I didn’t answer. I hung up. I was waiting for my uncle. My uncle moved faster than I expected. Forty-seven days after firing Kevin, I received a call from the IRS. “Mr. Williams, we’ve received a report against your company and need to conduct a tax audit. Please cooperate.” “Understood. When would be a convenient time?” “The day after tomorrow, at 9:00 AM.” “No problem.” I hung up. Opened the family group chat. Sure enough, my uncle had already sent a message. “Good things are coming.” Below it was a red envelope. For a hundred dollars. Twenty-three people grabbed a piece. Eight replied “Congratulations.” My aunt sent a voice message: “Let’s see how stubborn he is this time!” Kevin sent a sinister smiling emoji. My third uncle asked: “What good thing?” My uncle replied: “You’ll know when the time comes.” I put down my phone. Picked up the receiver and called Director Martinez. “You can start preparing the tax refund documents.” 5. The day the IRS arrived, I got to the company an hour earlier than usual. I organized all the ledgers, vouchers, and reports, and placed them in the conference room. The audit report remained locked in my drawer. At exactly 9:00 AM, three IRS agents arrived. The team leader, whose last name was Davis, was in his forties and very stern. “Mr. Williams, we received a report alleging that your company is engaging in tax evasion. According to procedure, we need to conduct a comprehensive audit of your company’s accounts for the past three years.” “Agent Davis, cooperation is expected. All the materials are in the conference room. You can review them anytime.” I opened the door to the conference room. Agent Davis glanced at me. Most business owners being audited didn’t look this relaxed when they walked in. I was too calm. He didn’t say anything and led his team into the conference room. At 10:00 AM. A minivan arrived at the company entrance. My uncle was here. And not just my uncle. My uncle, my aunt, Kevin, my third uncle, my third aunt, my oldest aunt, her husband, my second aunt, and seven or eight distant relatives whose names I couldn’t even remember. Over twenty people. A massive contingent. “Uncle George, what are you all doing here?” Sarah, the receptionist, tried to stop them. “Just taking a look!” my uncle said loudly. “Taking a look at Ethan’s company!” He looked around, a look of triumph in his eyes. “Seeing how many more days this company can stay open!” I looked down from the window of my office. Over twenty people were crammed into the company entrance. A few passersby had already started gathering to watch the spectacle. I called the front desk. “Let them up.” “Mr. Williams?” Sarah’s voice sounded a bit panicked. “Let them up,” I repeated. “Open the main conference room. Serve them tea.” When my uncle led the group upstairs, his face practically screamed, “I’ve finally waited for this day.” He looked even more triumphant when he saw the IRS agents in the conference room. “Oh, you’re here?” He pulled up a chair and sat down. “Audit away, audit thoroughly.” Agent Davis frowned. “And you are?” “I’m his uncle.” He pointed at me. “To be honest, the Williams family owns a piece of this company too.” Agent Davis looked at me. I nodded. “He’s my uncle. Let him watch.” My uncle looked even more pleased with himself. He waved at the relatives behind him. “Sit down, everyone, sit down! Let’s all see what kind of ‘good deeds’ Ethan has been up to today!” The relatives filed in, filling the main conference room. My aunt sat in the front row, legs crossed. Kevin stood in the corner, hands in his pockets, expressionless. After sitting down, my third uncle whispered to his wife: “George said the IRS found a massive problem. He might be fined millions.” My third aunt gasped: “Then isn’t he finished?” The voices weren’t loud. But I heard them. Over twenty pairs of eyes stared at me. Not a single look held any concern. Some were gloating. Some were just waiting for the show. Some looked indifferent. And then there was one—my uncle. His eyes held naked expectation. Waiting for my downfall. Waiting to see me cry. Waiting for me to beg him. I sat in my seat and took a sip of tea. Fine. If it’s a show you want, it’s a show you’ll get. I wanted to see who would be crying in the end. 6. The IRS audited for two days. During those two days, my uncle came every single day. The first day, he could sit still. By the second day, he was getting restless. “Why aren’t they done auditing yet?” He paced back and forth in the hallway, chain-smoking. “Is it almost done?” He asked everyone who came out of the conference room. No one answered him. At 4:00 PM on the second day, Agent Davis asked to speak with me. “Mr. Williams, the preliminary audit results are ready.” “Okay.” “Regarding the materials provided by the whistleblower, I need to verify a few things with you.” “Go ahead.” Agent Davis opened a stack of files. “The whistleblower provided copies of some purchase orders and tax returns from 2021 to 2023, claiming your company evaded taxes by artificially inflating costs.” He looked at me. “But we found in the actual accounts that the materials provided by the whistleblower and the actual data entered into the company’s books—don’t match.” “They don’t match?” “The numbers on the purchase orders provided by the whistleblower are higher than the actual numbers entered into the books.” I remained silent. “In other words,” Agent Davis paused, “the materials provided by the whistleblower have been altered.” I nodded. “I know.” Agent Davis looked at me. “You know?” “These purchase orders were handled by my former Deputy Purchasing Manager, Kevin Williams. During his employment, he artificially inflated purchasing costs and transferred the difference into his personal account. These altered materials are copies he made before he left.” I pulled the audit report out of my drawer. “This is a comprehensive audit I commissioned from an accounting firm half a year ago. It contains the complete chain of evidence of Kevin’s fraudulent accounting.” I handed the report to Agent Davis. “Including the original vouchers for every fraudulent transaction, the corresponding bank statements, and the private accounts where the funds ultimately ended up.” Agent Davis flipped through a few pages. His expression changed. “Mr. Williams… why didn’t you report this to the police earlier?” I smiled. “Because I was waiting for someone.”

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My sister cried. It wasn’t a happy cry. When I showed her the positive pregnancy test, she froze for three whole seconds. Then, the tears started falling. “Sis?” She didn’t speak. She grabbed a tissue, wiped her eyes, and turned away. I thought she was happy for me. Arthur and I had been married for eight years without a child. Now, we finally had one. But the way she cried was wrong. Her hands were shaking. When she left, she stood at the door for a long time, her lips moving, but no words came out. The next day, she came back. Holding a manila envelope. Inside the envelope was a divorce agreement. Blank. “Chloe,” she looked at me, her eyes red, “think very carefully before you decide to keep this child.” 1 I thought my sister had lost her mind. “Sis, what do you mean?” I pushed the envelope back. A divorce agreement. Blank. What was she trying to say by bringing this to my house? “You and Arthur are doing fine, right?” she asked instead of answering. “Of course we are.” “Has he been working a lot of overtime lately?” “Yes. He just got promoted to Project Director. It’s normal to be busy.” “How late does he stay?” “Eleven or twelve, sometimes later.” “When he’s working overtime, does he pick up when you call?” I paused for a second. “Sometimes he doesn’t. Bad reception. He says there’s no signal in the company’s underground parking garage.” My sister put down her cup. Her hands were still shaking. “Chloe, have you… ever checked his phone?” “Check his phone?” I found it funny. “Sis, I’m not that kind of person. A husband and wife need to trust—” “Check it.” She cut me off. Her voice was soft, but very firm. “Just check it once. Tonight, after he falls asleep, check it once.” I looked at her face. She didn’t look like she was joking. She had dark circles under her eyes and cracked lips, like she hadn’t slept in days. “Sis, what is going on? Can’t you just tell me directly?” She opened her mouth. Then closed it. “I can’t tell you directly,” she said. “Because you won’t believe me. You’ll just think I’m trying to drive a wedge between you two.” “You’re my sister—” “I’m your sister, which is exactly why you won’t believe me.” She stood up. “You’ll think I’m jealous that you married well, that I can’t stand seeing you happy because I’m divorced.” That stung. My sister got divorced three years ago. Her ex-husband cheated. She left the marriage with nothing, raising her daughter alone. “Sis, I’ve never thought that—” “I know.” She picked up her bag. “That’s why I’m not telling you. Go see for yourself.” She walked to the door and stopped. “Chloe.” “Yeah?” “No matter what you see, remember one thing—you are not alone.” The door closed. I stood in the living room, still clutching that manila envelope. It was very light. But I suddenly felt it weighed a ton. Arthur came home very late that night. Eleven forty. He brought a gust of cold air in with him. Seeing me still sitting on the sofa, he smiled. “Not asleep yet?” “Waiting for you.” “Silly, you’re pregnant. Get some rest.” He placed his phone on the shoe cabinet in the entryway—it was a habit of his, put the phone down first, then change shoes. I used to think this was his self-discipline—not looking at his phone when he got home, focusing on me. Today, staring at that phone, I suddenly felt it looked like a locked box. He went to take a shower. The sound of running water started. I sat on the sofa, looking at the phone on the shoe cabinet. My sister’s words echoed in my ears: Check it. Just check it once. I didn’t move. The water stopped. He came out, drying his hair, and saw me still sitting there. “What’s wrong? Spacing out?” “Nothing.” “Go to sleep early, I’ll take you to your prenatal checkup tomorrow.” “Okay.” I followed him into the bedroom. Lay down. Turned off the light. His breathing soon became even. I lay there with my eyes open, staring at the ceiling in the dark. The phone was in the entryway. His breathing was heavy. I didn’t move. Not because I didn’t dare. Because I didn’t want to. If there was nothing in that box, I would have suspected him for nothing. If there was— I closed my eyes. But I couldn’t fall asleep. At 2 AM, I got up to use the bathroom. As I passed the entryway, I stopped. The phone was on the shoe cabinet, screen down. I picked it up. The passcode was my birthday. He had never changed it. Thinking this, I entered the six digits. It unlocked. WhatsApp. Three pinned chats. The first one was me. Nickname “Wife”. The second was his mom. Nickname “Mom”. The third— The nickname was a house emoji. 🏠 No name. Just a house. I tapped it. The newest message was from tonight at 9:17 PM. A photo. In the photo was a little boy, wearing dinosaur pajamas, lying on a bed laughing. Below it was a line of text: “Your son won’t sleep, waiting for you to come back.” 2 I put the phone back on the shoe cabinet. Screen down, exactly as it was. I went back to the bedroom and lay down. Arthur rolled over, his arm draping across my waist. “Mmm… cold?” “No.” His hand was very warm. I stared at the ceiling in the dark, completely still. The little boy in the dinosaur pajamas looked about two years old. He had big eyes and monolids. Arthur has monolids. I didn’t sleep all night. The next morning, Arthur got up and made breakfast. Tomato and egg noodles. He was busy in the kitchen wearing an apron. He turned around and smiled at me: “Want a fried egg? You need the nutrition now that you’re pregnant.” “Okay.” I sat at the dining table, looking at his back. I had looked at this back for eight years. Eight years ago, he made four thousand a month, and I made six thousand. The apartment we rented was on the fifth floor, no elevator. Every day when he came home from work, he would first carry the groceries I bought upstairs, then go back down to park his electric scooter. Five trips back and forth. Later, when we bought a house, we didn’t have enough for the down payment. I borrowed eighty thousand from my mom, fifty thousand from a classmate, and withdrew all my 401k. He said, “Wife, when I make money, I’ll definitely pay you back double.” Later, he changed jobs and his salary went up. He changed jobs again, and it went up even more. From making four thousand a month, to eight thousand, to fifteen thousand, to an annual salary of two hundred thousand, to four hundred thousand. When his salary went up, he said, “Don’t worry about the money anymore, I’ll manage it.” I thought he was just being considerate. He took over the household finances. He transferred five thousand to me every month for living expenses, and said he saved the rest. “When we save enough, we’ll buy a bigger house.” I believed him. For these eight years, I managed the household expenses, paid the mortgage, and sent his mother two thousand every month. He said the rest was invested, saved. I never asked for specific numbers. Because I believed him. I thought of what happened last winter. November. Our wedding anniversary. I took a half-day off and went to the market at 3 PM. I bought his favorites: sweet and sour spare ribs and braised fish. I also bought a bouquet of flowers. I rarely buy flowers. Too expensive. But that day I thought, we’ve been married seven years, let’s be a little romantic. By 6 PM, dinner was ready. Four dishes and a soup on the table. The flowers were in a water glass; I didn’t have a vase. At 7 PM, he wasn’t back. At 8 PM, I called. Phone turned off. At 9 PM, a text: “In a meeting, be back late.” I took the flowers out of the glass. I still needed to use the glass. At 11 PM, he came home. “Did you eat?” “Yeah, company ordered takeout.” The four dishes on the table were stone cold. A layer of white fat had solidified on top of the sweet and sour spare ribs. “It’s fine,” I said. “I’ll just heat it up.” He didn’t notice the flowers. Nor did he remember what day it was. I heated up the spare ribs and ate them myself. Thinking about it now—when he didn’t answer his phone at 9 PM that night, where was he? Who was he with? Was that child in the dinosaur pajamas calling him “Daddy”? Breakfast was served. Tomato and egg noodles, with a fried egg. “Eat while it’s hot.” He sat across from me, smiling. I looked down and ate the noodles. The noodles were very hot. I ate very slowly. “Arthur.” “Yeah?” “What time did you get back last night?” “A little past eleven. Didn’t I tell you? We’re rushing a project.” “Mhm.” I continued eating. He got up to clean the kitchen. I heard the sound of the faucet. After finishing the noodles, I washed my bowl. He was putting on his coat, getting ready to leave. “Might be late again today. You go to sleep first.” “Okay.” The door closed. I sat back on the sofa. I took out my phone and sent my sister a message: “Sis, you were right.” She replied in three seconds. Like she had been waiting. “What did you see?” I didn’t reply. Because I didn’t know how to say it. I sat for a long time. Then I stood up and put the dirty clothes he wore last night into the washing machine. A receipt fell out of his coat pocket. A mall, basement level. Children’s clothing store. Amount: $85. Item purchased: Children’s puffer jacket, blue, size 3T. Size 3T. That’s the size a two-year-old child wears. 3 My sister came over. This time she didn’t beat around the bush. She brought a binder. Clear, filled with documents. “This is what I’ve collected over the past six months.” She placed the binder on the coffee table. I didn’t touch it. “Six months?” “Yes. Six months ago, I saw his car in the mall parking lot. A woman was sitting in the passenger seat. There was a child’s car seat in the back.” I looked at her. “You saw it, and you didn’t tell me?” “I wasn’t sure at the time—” “You weren’t sure, so you investigated for six months and still didn’t tell me?” She didn’t speak. “Lily,” I called her name. “Six months. You hid this from me for six months.” Her tears started falling. “I was afraid you wouldn’t be able to handle it. You had just been diagnosed with uterine fibroids, you hadn’t even had the surgery yet—” “So you made the decision for me?” “No—” “How are you any different from him?” I said. That was harsh. I knew. She was different. She wasn’t Arthur. But at that moment, I couldn’t control myself. Six months. Half a year. I slept in the same bed with that man every day, cooked for him, washed his clothes, got pregnant with his child—and my sister knew he was lying to me, watched me being deceived, and said nothing. My sister cried with her head down. I sat across from her. I didn’t cry. “Give me the binder.” She pushed it over. I opened it. First page: a photo. A screenshot from parking lot security footage. Arthur’s car, a woman with long hair in the passenger seat, and indeed a car seat in the back. Second page: an address. East side, Emerald Gardens, Building 3, Apartment 1402. “I followed him,” my sister said. “Twice. Both times to this address. Once he stayed the whole night, once on a weekend afternoon, he stayed for four hours.” Third page: property records for Emerald Gardens. Owner of 1402: Sarah Jenkins. Purchase date: Two years and three months ago. “Your husband paid for this apartment,” my sister said. “Put it in her name.” I flipped to the next page. A screenshot of a Venmo transfer. Arthur → Sarah Jenkins. The 8th of every month, $2,000. Note: For this month. Six consecutive months. Six screenshots. $2,000 times 6 is $12,000. And that’s just the six months my sister followed him. What if we calculate from two years ago? $2,000 times 24— $48,000. I calculated my monthly household budget. Arthur transferred $700 to me every month. $300 to his mom. I paid the mortgage, $900 a month. My monthly salary was $1,700. After deducting the mortgage and household expenses, my monthly balance was negative $200. Negative. I was losing $200 every month, making up for it with my year-end bonus and overtime pay. And he gave that woman $2,000 every month. I closed the binder. “Sis.” “Yeah.” “Thank you for collecting this.” “Chloe—” “But I don’t want to talk about you hiding this from me for six months right now.” She opened her mouth. “Wait until I’m done dealing with Arthur, then we’ll talk about that.” I picked up the binder and stood up. “You should go, Sis. He gets back at seven.” When my sister left, she stood at the door for a moment. “If you need anything, call me.” “Okay.” The door closed. I sat alone in the living room. There were two glasses of water on the coffee table; she had barely touched hers. It was getting dark outside. There was still some leftover rice in the kitchen from lunch. I went into the kitchen, opened the fridge, and took out two eggs. I made a plate of egg fried rice. Ate it alone. Washed the dishes. Wiped the table. Then I sat on the sofa, waiting for Arthur to come back. At 7:20 PM, the door clicked. “Wife, I’m home! Early today.” He smiled as he changed his shoes. “Hey, you cooked? What smells so good?” “Egg fried rice. Your portion is in the pan, serve yourself.” “Great.” He went into the kitchen. I watched his back. I had looked at this back for eight years. Today, for the first time, I felt it was the back of a stranger. 4 For the next three days, I did nothing. Went to work as usual. Came home as usual. Cooked as usual. Spoke to Arthur as usual. But I started paying attention to his phone. Details I hadn’t cared about before now each felt like a needle. He always went to the balcony to make phone calls. His screen auto-lock time changed from thirty seconds to ten seconds. He took his phone into the bathroom when he showered—he never used to do that. On the third night, he worked overtime again. Didn’t get home until eleven. I smelled laundry detergent on him. Not our brand. We used Tide. He smelled of Downy. “Worked so late at the company?” “Yeah, rushing a proposal.” “You worked hard.” “As long as my wife cares about me.” He smiled and kissed my forehead. The smell of Downy pressed close. I didn’t pull away. And I didn’t say anything. On the fourth day, I took a day off. I went to Emerald Gardens. East side, a forty-minute drive. It was a small, well-landscaped complex, the kind of small apartment popular with young people. Building 3, Apartment 1402. I stood downstairs and watched for a while. The windows on the fourteenth floor had pink curtains. Clothes were hanging on the balcony—a man’s white shirt, a woman’s dress, and some very small children’s clothes. It looked like a home. Another home. I sat in a bakery at the entrance of the complex for two hours. At 10:30 AM, a woman pushing a stroller came out. Long hair, wearing a beige coat and sunglasses. A little boy was sitting in the stroller. Wearing a hat with a dinosaur pattern. The child from the photo. She pushed the stroller to the park next to the complex. Sat on a bench. The child got out of the stroller, walking unsteadily. He tripped and burst into tears. She bent down, picked him up, and coaxed him. The child stopped crying and hugged her neck. She took out her phone and snapped a picture. I knew exactly who she was sending that photo to. At noon, I went back to my car. Sat there for a long time. Then I opened Arthur’s banking app—the password was his mom’s birthday. He had asked me to remember it for him when he registered. He didn’t know I actually remembered it. Credit card statements. I scrolled down line by line. A jewelry store: $11,500. Dated three months ago. I hadn’t received any jewelry. A postpartum care center: $4,500. Dated May of two years ago. May of two years ago. I was on a business trip that month. Away for half a month in Chicago. Arthur had texted: “Take care of yourself, wife. Miss you.” That month, he was accompanying another woman during her postpartum recovery. An early childhood education center: Annual fee $2,400. Payer: Arthur Sterling. A children’s photography studio: $500. A children’s clothing store: Multiple transactions, ranging from tens to hundreds of dollars. I exited the app. My hands rested on the steering wheel. I realized my fingers were shaking. I took a deep breath. Took out my phone. Flipped to the photos of my sister’s binder— The transfer records my sister took photos of were only for six months. But the banking app records went back three years. Three years. A fixed monthly transfer of $2,000 to Sarah Jenkins. That’s $72,000 in three years. Add in the jewelry, postpartum center, early education, children’s clothes, and daily expenses— I did a rough calculation. Over $110,000. And my savings over these three years— I opened my own banking app. Balance: $4,888.21. My entire life savings from an eight-year marriage. I bought a cup of coffee at the bakery. Held it in my hand. Didn’t drink it. Sat there until the coffee went cold. Then I threw it away and drove home. On the way home, I made a phone call. “Sis.” “Chloe? What’s wrong?” “Page three, that apartment in Emerald Gardens. Did you find the property records?” “I did. 650 square feet, registered in March 2022, bought in cash, total price $125,000. Owner is Sarah Jenkins. I couldn’t trace the source of funds—” “I found it.” The other end of the line went quiet. “$125,000. He bought her an apartment.” “Chloe—” “Adding the monthly transfers and other expenses, in three years, it’s at least $210,000.” My sister remained silent. “I’ve been married for eight years, and my savings are $4,800.” “Chloe, listen to me—” “Sis, do you have that woman’s background info in your binder?” “Yes. Sarah Jenkins, born in 1994, went to the same college as Arthur.” College alumni. Arthur had told me he never dated in college. “And their child’s birth date?” “January 2023.” January 2023. I counted backward. That means she got pregnant around April 2022. April 2022— That was the month Arthur and I were trying for a baby. I was taking folic acid. He told me: “Don’t stress, let nature take its course.” Let nature take its course. I tried for two years and couldn’t get pregnant. She got pregnant. “Sis.” “I’m here.” “There’s something I don’t understand.” “What?” “I tried to get pregnant for two years and couldn’t. I went to the hospital, they said I was fine. The doctor said he was fine too. But I just couldn’t get pregnant.” There was a long silence on the other end of the line. “When you get home,” she said, her voice very low, “go check around your water dispenser. See if there’s anything there that shouldn’t be.” 5 I didn’t go check the water dispenser immediately. Because my sister’s words carried too much weight. I needed to confirm it myself. That night, Arthur worked overtime until eleven as usual. I opened the drawer in his study. The bottom drawer. He said it was for old documents and warranties. I searched for five minutes. Tucked deep inside an envelope full of receipts, I found a blister pack of pills. White, in aluminum foil packaging. The print was very small. I held it up to the light. Ethinylestradiol and Cyproterone Acetate Tablets. Birth control pills. More than half the pack was gone. Seventeen pills were missing. These were not my pills. I had never taken birth control pills. This pack of pills was in his study. And the water I drank every day—he always poured it. Every morning, he got up earlier than me, boiled the water, poured it into my cup, and placed it on my nightstand. “Wife, have some water before you get up.” He’d been saying this for over two years. I thought he was considerate. I sat in the chair in the study, holding that blister pack. I stared at it for a long time. I didn’t cry. I just felt cold. Cold seeping out from my bones. I took out my phone and snapped a picture. Then I put the pills back exactly where they were. Put the envelope back. Closed the drawer. I walked to the bathroom. Turned on the faucet. The water ran for a long time. I splashed water on my face. Looked up at myself in the mirror. I was thirty-one. There were fine lines around my eyes. He said: “You work so hard, wife.” He said: “Go to sleep early, wife.” He said: “When we save enough money, we’ll buy a bigger house.” While saying all these things, he was crushing a birth control pill into my water cup every single day. Making sure I couldn’t get pregnant for two years. Because the woman over there was already pregnant with his child. He didn’t need two. I turned off the faucet. Dried my face. Walked out of the bathroom. I sat in the living room. And opened my laptop. I opened Excel. Eight years of accounts. I calculated every single penny. Mortgage: $900 a month. Eight years is $86,400. I paid the first three years entirely by myself—his salary was low then. Later, he got a raise and said, “I’ll take over the mortgage.” But the bank account for deductions was never changed. It was always my card being charged. Down payment: The money I borrowed and my 401k withdrawal, totaling $30,000. Household expenses: He transferred $700 to me monthly, but actual expenses were $1,000-$1,100. I covered the difference. Eight years, I subsidized at least $30,000. Allowance for his parents: $300 a month. Eight years is $28,800. He said, “I transfer it to my mom.” But for three years, I transferred it directly—because he “forgot.” My year-end bonuses: For eight years, all went toward paying back favors, covering household deficits, and buying gifts for his family during the holidays. Total— I calculated it three times. $212,000. Over these eight years, I had poured $212,000 into this home. While he had spent at least $210,000 on that woman in just three years. My eight years. Her three years. I opened my sister’s binder and flipped to the property page. Emerald Gardens, $125,000 paid in full. Our own house, I paid the $30,000 down payment, and we still owed $88,000 on the mortgage. He bought his mistress a house in cash. He gave me a mortgage. I closed the laptop. Picked up my phone. “Sis.” “I’m here.” “Help me find a divorce lawyer. The best one.” “Already found him. Attorney Davis. Tomorrow at 3 PM.” She had prepared everything six months ago. “Thank you.” “Chloe, are you still mad at me?” “Yes.” “…” “But I’m going to deal with Arthur first.”

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While I was pestering my aloof boyfriend to pick a boba tea flavor, the cashier suddenly spoke up in a passive-aggressive tone: “This offer is for couples only~” “Mistresses cannot participate.” By the time I snapped out of my daze, Liam had already paid for two cups of boba. He took my hand and led me away. Seeing I was upset, he gave a helpless, mocking smile: “It’s just an extra five bucks, is it really that big of a deal?” I was just about to argue. When we heard his neighbor exclaim: “Liam, your girlfriend has been home since noon, cooking dinner for you… “Are you doing right by her doing this?” 1 As soon as her voice fell, Liam’s apartment door was opened from the inside. A fair, plain-looking girl, holding a garbage bag, locked eyes with me— She didn’t panic in the slightest. Casually tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, she smiled gently: “You must be Chloe, right?” “I’m Mia.” Then, Mia shot a playfully reproachful glance at Liam. “Chloe coming to Capitol City is such a big deal, and you didn’t even tell me~ “Bring her inside first. “I’ll go take out the trash. I haven’t made your favorite sweet and sour spare ribs yet.” I looked at the scene before me, feeling somewhat bewildered. For a moment, I genuinely didn’t know who Liam’s real girlfriend was. I instinctively tugged at Liam’s hand. Just as I was about to demand an explanation. Liam let go of my hand. Frowning with a serious expression, he took a step forward and said to Mia: “Your wrist is bothering you, didn’t the doctor tell you not to do chores?” Without leaving room for argument, Liam took the garbage bag from Mia’s hand. And strode onto the elevator. Leaving me standing there, my mind a mess. After a long silence, the neighbor lady finally gave an awkward laugh: “So she’s a relative from your hometown… Haha, I was wondering, since you and Mia are so in love… “And Liam is so handsome and upright, how could he bring a mistress home? “Sorry about that, it was a misunderstanding. I even wanted to stand up for you.” Having said that, the neighbor lady hurriedly carried her groceries into the apartment next door. But Mia had no intention of explaining. She merely pushed up her glasses, smiled, and opened the door. “It’s quite cold, hurry and come in. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll give Liam a call and ask him to pick up a package from the lobby. “If he doesn’t get it soon, we won’t have any cotton tissues to use.” I stood in the living room. Watching Mia bustling about, acting completely like the lady of the house. With a cold face, I finally spoke: “You know I’m Liam’s girlfriend, right?” 2 Actually, from the moment we bought the boba, I vaguely felt something wasn’t right. But Liam was as aloof, restrained, and indifferent as usual. It didn’t seem like there was a problem. Besides, I didn’t want to cause a dramatic scene in a public place. But now. Looking around Liam’s rented apartment, seeing the matching couple slippers and the room filled with pink items. I couldn’t maintain my dignity anymore. “Liam and I have been together for four years, and doing long-distance for just one, and you shamelessly insert yourself—” “What are you talking about?” Liam suddenly appeared, his stern voice cutting me off. He stood tall and straight, looking down at me from a commanding height. “Mia is the comrade I told you about, the one who studied for the grad school entrance exams with me. “As for the ‘girlfriend’ thing, it’s just a lie we tell to fend off unwanted attention for each other. “I am equally a beneficiary of this fake relationship. How can you have such malice towards Mia?” I pinched my palms tightly, trying my best not to let my tears fall. Mia smiled helplessly. Generous and understanding, she smoothed things over: “Liam, don’t be so fierce to Chloe~ It’s only human nature for her to think this way since she doesn’t know the truth. “She’s a young girl, it’s completely normal for someone so focused on love to subconsciously feel competitive. “This is why I told you not to tell her about this. See, she’s angry as expected, right?” I laughed out of pure anger: “Are you not a girl?” Mia let out an “Ah?”, a hint of mockery flashing in her eyes: “I didn’t mean it like that. “It’s just that Liam mentioned you went to an ordinary college, and upon graduating, you just went with the flow and joined an ordinary company— “I just feel it’s a bit different from our… well, our value system of striving for the top.” She smiled sweetly and handed a glass of warm water to me. “Besides, you’re so pretty and know how to do makeup, unlike me, I have no aesthetic sense, I only know how to study. “Don’t worry, I’m planning to stay single forever. My life plan doesn’t include men. “So you don’t have to treat me as an imaginary rival~” The water glass hovered in mid-air. I didn’t take it. After a long while. The smile on Mia’s face became difficult to maintain. Until Liam chuckled lightly, took the glass, and intimately pulled me into his arms, saying affectionately: “Alright, we haven’t seen each other in months, how did you turn into such a little jealous pot? “The boba will get cold if you don’t drink it soon. I’ll give you mine too, okay?” Mia turned her head away, wearing a knowing “auntie” smile, and tactfully went into the kitchen. While Liam grabbed my hand, slipping it under the hem of his white shirt. “Want to inspect the eight-pack abs you love to see if they pass the test?” Instantly, a firm, warm sensation was transmitted from my hand. My face flushed red. I quickly pulled my hand back. Looking up at Liam’s ascetic, cold face. I suddenly remembered that when I first met him, he was as cold as an iceberg to all women. Only when he was with me would Liam show a different side. He spoke very seriously: “It really is just to fend off unwanted attention, nothing more. “We’re doing long-distance, don’t you even have this little bit of trust in me? “If you really can’t accept it, then hurry up and quit that job, come to Capitol City and end this long-distance—” “Oh right.” I almost forgot the purpose of my special trip to see Liam. I hesitated: “My boss values me highly and plans to—” I hadn’t even finished saying he planned to transfer me to the headquarters when a scream came from the kitchen. Liam’s expression changed drastically. “Mia, what happened?” I watched his tall, broad back as he hurried into the kitchen. Then I looked down at the message from my boss on my phone: [Have you thought about it?] I fell deep into thought. 3 To be honest. Out of this batch of newly hired interns, the opportunity to transfer to the headquarters was only offered to me and one other male colleague. It was a rare opportunity. But once I transferred, my relationship with Liam would face an even tougher situation. I couldn’t bear to let it go. After all, I put a lot of thought and effort into winning over this unattainable “flower on a high peak.” Just as I was agonizing over the decision. My boss sent another message: [I’ll give you three days to consider.] I breathed a sigh of relief. Put my phone away. And called out towards the kitchen: “What happened? Is everything okay?” 4 I had heard Liam talk about his “comrade.” A straight-A student from a small town. Supported by her entire family’s sacrifices to get to where she is today. Strong-willed, unafraid of hardship or exhaustion. So, even though I didn’t have a good impression of Mia, Seeing her pale face and pained expression now, my heart still sank. “Do we need to go to the hospital?” “Obviously.” Liam’s eyes were icy, showing no mercy. After picking up the frail Mia, he said coldly: “Mia knew you love double-cooked pork slices, so she wanted to make a plate for you— “That’s why her hand got burned by splashing oil while frying the meat. “Chloe—” He looked at me, enunciating every word: “Did you know her dream is to become a doctor? “If something happens to Mia’s hands, her dream will never be realized.” I looked at Liam in astonishment. I couldn’t believe it. That these words would come from someone usually so rational and calm. “Chloe, I’m so sorry my presence has brought you trouble.” Mia’s voice trembled, tinged with a sob as she spoke: “But right now, I need your boyfriend to take me to the hospital. “Don’t worry, we only pretend to be a couple in front of outsiders. We haven’t crossed any boundaries. “Today is a special circumstance, I didn’t expect the hot oil to splash while frying meat… My original intention was just to…” “It’s not your fault, you don’t need to grovel like this.” Liam said while grabbing his phone: “Even if it were a complete stranger, I would take them to the hospital.” He carried Mia in his arms horizontally. Looking at me expressionlessly, he ordered: “Open the door.” I pondered over Liam’s words. Feeling somewhat confused. It’s not her fault, is he insinuating— That it’s my fault? 5 After Liam and Mia left. I stood alone at the door. I stood in a daze for a long time. Then I replied to my boss: [No need to consider. [I’ll go.] When Liam’s mother called. I was discussing the details with my boss. Her voice was as kind as always: “Chloe, have you seen Liam yet?” I gave a muffled “Mm,” “I saw him.” Full of grievances, I didn’t know where to start for a moment. Just as I was about to speak, I heard Liam’s mother say earnestly: “A few days ago, Liam and I talked on the phone, and he was hesitating to speak. “I knew he had something hard to say. “After pressing him repeatedly, he finally said he wanted your Uncle Vance to use his connections to get you a job at a big tech company over in Capitol City…” She sighed. “Hearing him, I felt pretty bad. “After all, you are his first love, and your personalities complement each other so well. It’s only in front of you that Liam can relax and be himself. “You’ve been doing long-distance for so long, I guess he can’t stand it anymore but feels bad asking directly…” My deadened heart instantly reignited. I confirmed, somewhat nervously: “Really? I thought—” “Of course! When I said no problem, Liam was so incredibly happy.” Liam’s mother stated definitively: “Since he was a child, he never showed his emotions openly. It was the first time I’d seen him like that. “So Chloe, when are you quitting your job—” I took a deep breath. “Thank you to you and Uncle Vance for your kindness, but I have no plans to quit my job for now.” I interrupted her very softly, speaking gently: “I really like this job. “My bosses also value me highly. “I can’t give all this up for Liam. A big tech company is great, but it might not be suitable for me.” Seemingly not expecting me to refuse. The other end was quiet for a long time. Then Liam’s mother gave an awkward laugh: “You chased Liam for so long back then, this is a good opportunity… “It’s fine, Chloe, think about it some more…” I wanted to say “no need to think about it,” but I felt Liam’s mother had good intentions. I could only give a slow “Mm.” 6 After hanging up the phone. I stood in the empty room. Let out a long breath. Prepared to leave. But at a glance, I saw a small gift box on the floor— It must have fallen out of Liam’s pocket when he left in a hurry. As if possessed. I stopped and picked it up. Inside was a pair of dazzling, sparkling diamond rings. From Darry Ring. A brand where a person can only customize one ring in their lifetime. And the purchaser was indeed Liam. Connecting it to what Liam’s mother had just said. A sudden wave of guilt washed over me— So, Liam had already been considering our future. And here I was, acting out of spite, planning to leave without communicating with him. I calmed down. Put on the ring. Ready to call Liam. But his name jumped onto the screen first. I clicked answer, impatient to speak, “Liam, you left something behind, right?” “Mm.” Liam hadn’t expected me to answer so quickly, showing a bit of surprise before calming down again. “Mia’s wound has been treated, no major issues. She just needs a dressing change tomorrow morning, and then she can leave. “Sorry, I was too anxious earlier.” He paused, his voice hoarse. “Do you have time now to help me—” I looked at the striking diamond ring on my ring finger, thinking of the happy times I spent with Liam. I answered preemptively: “I do. “I can.” Liam’s tone became much more relaxed, chuckling lightly: “That’s good. “Mia’s period started early, and the sanitary pads she usually uses are in the compartment of the bathroom cabinet. “I didn’t want to bother you, but Mia is alone at the hospital, and I can’t leave. Her constitution is weak, so she can’t just use any brand you’d buy at a random store—” Mia’s voice calling out came from the other end. Liam quickly sent his location and hung up. My smile was still frozen on my face. My hand was still suspended in mid-air. Only the beep beep beep of the disconnected call remained in my ears. Seeming to remind me: The dream was over. 7 After thinking it over repeatedly: We are all adults. Ending a relationship should be done clearly face-to-face to do justice to these four years. Thirty minutes later. I stood in the emergency room lobby. I spotted Liam and Mia at a glance. In the noisy, chaotic environment, only the two of them seemed to exist in a tranquil bubble, completely out of place. As if sensing something. Liam happened to turn his head. And locked eyes with me. He looked at me, then looked at the bag in my hand. He curled his finger casually and freely, like an enchanting fairy from a myth, his voice also gentle: “Chloe, how can you be so cute?” Saying that, Liam raised an eyebrow and smiled at Mia: “I told you, my girlfriend isn’t the petty type. “See?” Mia’s face looked ugly for a second. She gave two perfunctory laughs. Only when she lowered her eyes did the darkness in them flash by. Liam didn’t notice. He was just focused on taking the things from my hand. The next second. He suddenly noticed the diamond ring on my hand. His expression changed drastically. “Why are you touching other people’s things without permission?” Before I could react. He coldly took the diamond ring off my finger. “Mia has been pestered by a senior recently, so she used the money she saved for a long time to buy these rings. “It’s just to make others believe she has a boyfriend and that their relationship is very strong. “It’s to fend off bad romances—” Liam’s eyes were cold, seemingly forcing himself to stay calm and lowering his voice. “I know you are very anxious about the progress of our relationship. “But you can’t just take other people’s things as your own like this.” I kept my head down. Looking at my somewhat red finger, I couldn’t help my eyes tearing up. No wonder it was so hard to put on. I thought I had gained weight, turns out… Just as the atmosphere was tense. The male colleague who was supposed to transfer with me initiated a video call. On the other end, he smiled brilliantly and freely: “Only half a month left before we have to leave. “Hey Chloe, when are you coming back to hand over your work?” … Clatter. The things in Liam’s hands fell all over the floor. His eyes were deep, his voice hoarse: “Hand over your work? “Chloe, where are you going?”

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He didn’t mean it in a happy way. When I slid the positive pregnancy test across the table, my sister froze for three solid seconds. Then, the tears started flowing. “Sis?” She didn’t answer. She just grabbed a napkin, wiped her eyes, and turned her back to me. I thought she was happy for me. Arthur and I had been married for eight years with no luck. Now, finally, it was happening. But the way she was crying felt wrong. Her hands were shaking. She stood at the front door for a long time when she left, her lips moving, but nothing came out. The next day, she came back. Holding a plain vanilla envelope. Inside was a divorce settlement. Completely blank. “Maddie,” she looked at me, her eyes red-rimmed, “think long and hard before you decide to have this baby.” 1 I thought my sister had gone off the deep end. “Sis, what is this supposed to mean?” I pushed the envelope back toward her. A blank divorce settlement. What on earth was she doing bringing this into my house? “Everything is good with you and Arthur, right?” She didn’t answer my question; she just countered with her own. “Of course it is.” “Has he been working a lot of overtime lately?” “Yeah. He just got promoted to Project Director. Being busy comes with the territory.” “How late is ‘late’ usually?” “Eleven, midnight. Sometimes later.” “And when he’s working late, does he pick up when you call?” 我愣了一下。 “Sometimes no. He says the signal is terrible in the company’s underground garage.” My sister put her coffee mug down. Her hands were still shaking. “Maddie, have you… ever checked his phone?” “Check his phone?” I actually laughed. “Sis, I’m not that kind of person. Marriage is about trust—” “Check it.” She cut me off. Her voice was quiet, but incredibly firm. “Just check it once. Tonight, after he’s asleep, just check it once.” I looked at her face. She wasn’t joking. She had heavy bags under her eyes, her lips were chapped, and she looked like she hadn’t slept in days. “Sis, what is going on? Can you just tell me straight out?” She opened her mouth. Then closed it again. “I can’t just tell you,” she said, “because you won’t believe me. You’ll just think I’m trying to cause drama in your marriage.” “You are my sister—” “I am your sister, and that is exactly why you won’t believe me.” She stood up. “You’ll think I’m jealous because you married rich, that since my divorce, I can’t stand to see you happy.” That stung. My sister got divorced three years ago. Her ex cheated, she got taking for everything in the settlement, and she’s been raising her daughter on her own ever since. “Sis, I have never thought that—” “I know.” She grabbed her bag. “That’s why I’m not telling you. Go see for yourself.” She walked to the door and stopped. “Maddie.” “Yeah?” “No matter what you see, remember one thing—you are not alone.” The door clicked shut. I stood in the living room, still clutching that vanilla envelope. It felt very light. But suddenly, it felt like it weighed a ton. Arthur didn’t get home until very late that night. Eleven-forty PM. He brought a chill in with him as he entered. Seeing me still sitting on the couch, he smiled. “Not asleep yet?” “Waiting for you.” “Don’t be silly, you’re pregnant. Get some rest.” He placed his phone on the entryway table—that was his routine. Phone down first, then take off his shoes. In the past, I thought that showed self-discipline—not looking at his phone at home, focusing on me. Today, staring at that phone, it suddenly looked like a locked box. He went to take a shower. The sound of running water started. I sat on the couch, staring at the phone on the entryway table. My sister’s words spun in my mind: Check it. Just check it once. I didn’t move. The water stopped. He came out, drying his hair, and saw me still sitting there. “What’s wrong? Why are you just staring?” “Nothing.” “Go to sleep early. I’m taking you to your prenatal appointment tomorrow.” “Okay.” I followed him into the bedroom. Lay down. Lights out. His breathing became even very quickly. I lay there with my eyes open in the dark, staring at the ceiling. His phone was in the entryway. His breathing was heavy. I did not move. It wasn’t that I was scared to. I just didn’t want to. If there was nothing in that box, I would be suspecting him over nothing. If there was something— I closed my eyes. But I couldn’t sleep. Two in the morning. I got up to use the bathroom. Passing through the entryway, I stopped. His phone was on the table, face down. I picked it up. The passcode was my birthday. He had never changed it. Holding that thought, I entered the six digits. Unlocked. I went to his messaging apps. Three conversations were pinned to the top. The first was me. Listed as “Wife.” The second was his mother. Listed as “Mom.” The third— Listed only as a house emoji. 🏠 No name. Just a house. I tapped on it. The latest message was from 9:17 PM tonight. It was a picture. In the photo was a little boy, wearing dinosaur pajamas, lying on a bed laughing. Below it was a line of text: “Daddy, your son won’t sleep. He’s waiting for you to come home.” 2 I put the phone back on the entryway table. Face down, exactly how it was before. I went back to the bedroom and lay down. Arthur rolled over, his arm draping over my waist. “Mmm… cold?” “No.” His hand was very warm. I stared at the ceiling in the darkness, completely still. That little boy in the dinosaur pajamas looked about two years old. He had big eyes and monolids. Arthur has monolids. I didn’t sleep a wink all night. The next morning, Arthur got up and made breakfast. Bacon, eggs, and toast. He was busy in the kitchen wearing an apron, turning back to smile at me. “Want some orange juice? Got to keep those vitamins up for the baby.” “Okay.” I sat at the dining table, watching his back. I had looked at this back for eight years. Eight years ago, he was making forty thousand a year, and I was making sixty. We lived in a walk-up apartment on the fifth floor. No elevator. Every day when he got home from work, he would carry up the groceries I bought first, then go back down to find parking for his car. Back and forth. Later, when we bought the house, we didn’t have enough for the down payment. I borrowed thirty thousand from my mom, ten thousand from a classmate, and emptied my 401k. He said, “Babe, when I make it big, I’m going to pay you back double.” Later, he changed jobs, and his salary went up. He changed jobs again, and it went up even more. From forty thousand, to eighty, to one hundred and fifty, to two hundred thousand, to four hundred thousand a year. When his salary went up, he said, “Don’t worry about the money anymore. I’ll handle the finances.” I thought he was doing it out of love. He took over the family finances. He transferred me two thousand dollars a month for living expenses, and he said he was saving the rest. “When we save enough, we’ll buy a big house with a huge yard.” I believed him. For eight years, I managed the household bills, paid the mortgage, and sent his mother five hundred dollars every month. He said the rest was in investments and savings. I never asked for specific numbers. Because I trusted him. I thought about what happened last winter. November. Our wedding anniversary. I took a half-day off, went to the grocery store at three PM. I bought his favorite steak and lobster tails. I also bought a bouquet of flowers. I don’t usually buy flowers. They are too expensive. But that day, I thought, We’ve been married seven years, let’s be romantic. Six PM, dinner was ready. Seven PM, he wasn’t home. Eight PM, I called. Went straight to voicemail. Nine PM, a text: “In a meeting, be back late.” I took the flowers out of the water glass I used as a vase. I still needed the glass. Eleven PM, he came home. “Did you eat?” “Yeah, got pizza with the team.” The steak and lobster on the table were stone cold. “It’s fine,” I said. “I can just reheat it.” He didn’t notice the flowers. Nor did he remember what day it was. I reheated the lobster and ate it myself. Thinking about it now—when he didn’t pick up at nine PM that night, where was he? Who was he with? Was that child in the dinosaur pajamas calling him “Daddy” right then? Breakfast was placed in front of me. Bacon, eggs, and toast. “Eat up while it’s hot.” He sat opposite me, smiling. I looked down and ate. The eggs were very hot. I ate very slowly. “Arthur.” “Yeah?” “What time did you get back last night?” “A little past eleven, I think. Told you, babe, the project is running tight.” “Okay.” I continued eating. He got up to clean the kitchen. I heard the sound of the running water. After breakfast, I did the dishes. He was putting on his blazer, getting ready to leave. “Might be another late one today. Don’t wait up.” “Okay.” The door closed. I sat back on the couch. I took out my phone and sent my sister a message: “Sis, you were right.” Three seconds later, she replied. As if she had been waiting. “What did you see?” I didn’t reply. Because I didn’t know how to say it. I sat there for a long time. Then I stood up and put his dirty clothes from last night into the washing machine. A receipt fell out of his blazer pocket. From a upscale children’s boutique downtown. Amount: $238. Item: Children’s puffer jacket, blue, size 2T. Size 2T. That is the size a two-year-old child wears. 3 My sister came over. This time, she didn’t beat around the bush. She brought a folder. It was transparent, filled with papers. “This is what I’ve gathered over the last six months.” She put the folder on the coffee table. I didn’t touch it. “Six months?” “Yes. Six months ago, I saw his car in the parking lot of a high-end mall. A woman was sitting in the passenger seat. There was a car seat in the back.” I looked at her. “You saw that, and you didn’t tell me?” “I wasn’t sure at the time—” “You weren’t sure, so you investigated for six months and still didn’t tell me?” She didn’t speak. “Felicia,” I called her by her first name. “Six months. You kept this from me for six months.” Her tears started falling. “I was scared you couldn’t handle it. You had just found that lump on your thyroid, you hadn’t even had the biopsy yet—” “So you made the decision for me?” “No—” “How are you any different from him?” I said. Those were harsh words. I knew that. She was different. She wasn’t Arthur. But at that moment, I couldn’t control myself. Six months. Half a year. I slept in the same bed with that man every day, cooked his meals, washed his clothes, got pregnant with his baby—and my sister knew he was lying to me, watched me being played for a fool, and didn’t say a single word. My sister sat opposite me, crying silently. I didn’t cry. “Give me the folder.” She pushed it over. I opened it. The first page was a photo. A surveillance shot from a parking garage. It was Arthur’s car. A long-haired woman was in the passenger seat, and there was definitely a car seat in the back. The second page was an address. Upscale condo complex on the East side. Building 3, Apartment 1402. “I followed him,” my sister said. “Twice. Both times, he went to this address. Once he stayed the whole night. The other time was a Saturday afternoon, he was there for four hours.” The third page was the property records for Apartment 1402. Owner: Stephanie Vance. Purchase date: Two years and three months ago. “Your husband bought this place,” my sister said. “It’s in her name.” I flipped to the next page. It was a screenshot of a bank transfer. Arthur → Stephanie Vance. The 8th of every month, $5,000. Memo: For this month. Six consecutive months. Six screenshots. Five thousand times six is thirty thousand. That was just the six months my sister was tracking him. What if we calculate from two years ago? Five thousand times twenty-four— One hundred and twenty thousand. I calculated my monthly household budget. Arthur transferred me two thousand. Sent his mother five hundred. I paid the mortgage—three thousand six hundred. I made three thousand a month. After paying the mortgage, I was left with a negative six hundred dollars. Negative. Every month, I was out of pocket six hundred dollars, made up for by my year-end bonus and freelance work. While he was giving that woman five thousand a month. I closed the folder. “Sis.” “Yeah.” “Thanks for gathering this.” “Maddie—” “But I don’t want to talk about you keeping this from me for six months right now.” She opened her mouth. “Wait until I’m done dealing with Arthur. Then we’ll talk about that.” I grabbed the folder and stood up. “You should go, Sis. He gets home at seven.” When my sister left, she stood at the front door for a while. “If you need anything, call me.” “Okay.” The door clicked shut. I sat alone in the living room. There were two coffee mugs on the table. She hadn’t really touched hers. It got dark outside. There was leftover dinner from yesterday in the fridge. I went into the kitchen, made a plate of food, and ate it. Alone. I did the dishes. I wiped the table. Then I sat on the couch, waiting for Arthur to come home. Seven-twenty PM, the door opened. “Wife, I’m home! Early today.” He smiled as he changed his shoes. “Hey, you already eat? What smells good?” “Leftovers. Yours is on the stove, help yourself.” “Awesome.” He went into the kitchen. I watched his back. I had looked at this back for eight years. Today, for the first time, I felt like it belonged to a total stranger. 4 For the next three days, I did nothing. I went to work. I came home. I cooked. I talked to Arthur, as usual. But I started watching his phone. Details I hadn’t cared about before now felt like needles in my eyes. Whenever he made a call, he went to the balcony. His phone’s screen-lock time changed from thirty seconds to ten. When he showered, he took the phone into the bathroom—something he never used to do. The third night, he worked overtime again. He didn’t get home until eleven. I smelled laundry detergent on him. Not our brand. We used Tide pods. He smelled of Downy scent boosters. “Worked so late at the company?” “Yeah, gotta get that proposal submitted.” “You work hard.” “As long as my wife appreciates me.” He smiled and亲了一下我的额头。 The smell of Downy pressed against me. I didn’t flinch. Nor did I speak. The fourth day, I took a sick day. I drove to the East side, to the condo complex. It was about a forty-minute drive. Not a huge complex, nice landscaping—the kind of trendy, small units young professionals liked. Building 3, Apartment 1402. I stood downstairs and watched for a bit. The windows on the fourteenth floor had pink curtains hanging. There were clothes drying on the balcony—a man’s white dress shirt, a woman’s dress, and some tiny children’s clothes. It looked like a home. Another home. I sat in the coffee shop across the street from the complex for two hours. At ten-thirty AM, a woman came out pushing a stroller. Long hair, wearing a designer coat and sunglasses. A little boy was sitting in the stroller. Wearing a hat with a dinosaur print. That was the child from the photo. She pushed the stroller to the park next to the complex. She sat on a park bench. The child got out of the stroller, toddling around. He tripped and burst out crying. She bent down, picked him up, and comforted him. The child stopped crying and hugged her neck. She took out her phone and snapped a picture. I knew who that photo was going to be sent to. Twelve PM, I got back in my car. I sat there for a long time. Then I opened Arthur’s banking app—the password was his mother’s birthday. He had made me memorize it for him when he set it up. He didn’t know I still remembered it. I scrolled through the credit card transactions line by line. Downtown Jeweler: $12,000. The date was three months ago. I hadn’t received any jewelry. Postpartum Recovery Center: $6,500. The date was May, two years ago. May, two years ago. I was traveling for work that month. I was away in Chicago for two weeks. Arthur had texted me: “Take care of yourself, babe. Miss you.” That month, he was accompanying another woman in her recovery center. Private Pre-K Enrollment: $20,000 annual fee. Payer: Arthur Sterling. Children’s Photography: $1,200. Gap Kids: Multiple charges, amounts ranging from hundreds to a thousand dollars. I logged out of the app. My hands rested on the steering wheel. I realized my fingers were shaking. I took a deep breath. I took out my phone. I looked at the photos of my sister’s folder again— The screenshots she took of the transfers were only for six months. But on the banking app, I could look at records going back three years. Three years. A fixed monthly transfer of $5,000 to Stephanie Vance. That’s one hundred and eighty thousand in three years. Add in the jewelry, the recovery center, Pre-K, kids’ clothes, and daily spending— I did a rough calculation. Well over two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. And my savings over these three years— I opened my own banking app. Balance: $6,812.15. The entirety of my savings from an eight-year marriage. I bought a coffee at the shop. Held it in my hand. Didn’t drink it. Sat there until the coffee went cold. Then I threw it away and drove home. On the way back, I made a call. “Sis.” “Maddie? What’s wrong?” “The third page, the property on the East side. Did you find the mortgage info?” “I checked the public filings. It’s 1200 square feet, bought in cash in March 2022. Total price was eight hundred and fifty thousand. The owner is listed as Stephanie Vance. I couldn’t trace the source of funds—” “I found it.” The other end was silent. “Eight hundred and fifty thousand. He bought her a luxury condo. In cash.” “Maddie—” “Between the monthly transfers and everything else, in three years, it’s at least four hundred thousand dollars.” My sister didn’t say anything. “I’ve been married for eight years. I have six thousand in the bank.” “Maddie, listen to me—” “Sis, in your folder, do you have that woman’s background information?” “Yeah. Stephanie Vance, born in 1994, same college as Arthur.” Same college. Arthur had told me he never dated in college. “Their child, what’s the date of birth?” “January 2023.” January 2023. I counted backward. Pregnancy would mean conception around April 2022. April 2022— That month, Arthur and I were actively trying for a baby. I was taking folic acid. He told me, “Don’t stress, let nature take its course.” Let nature take its course. I tried for two years and couldn’t get pregnant. She got pregnant. “Sis.” “Yeah.” “There’s one thing I don’t get.” “What?” “I tried to get pregnant for two years, and it never happened. I went to the doctor, they checked me out, said I was fine. The doctor said he was fine, too. But I just couldn’t get pregnant.” There was a long silence on the other end. “When you get home,” she said, her voice very low, “check by your water cooler. See if there’s anything there that shouldn’t be.” 5 I didn’t check the water cooler right away. Because my sister’s words carried too much weight. I needed to confirm it for myself. That night, Arthur worked late until eleven, as usual. I opened the drawer in his study. The bottom one. He said it was for old files and electronics warranties. I searched for five minutes. Tucked inside an envelope labeled “Tax Receipts,” at the very back, I found a blister pack of pills. They were white, in foil packaging. The writing on them was very small. I held it under the desk lamp. Ethinyl estradiol and Cyproterone acetate. A form of birth control pill. More than half the pack was gone. Seventeen pills were missing. Those weren’t my pills. I had never been on birth control. This pack was in his study. And the water I drank every day—he always poured it. Every morning, he got up before me, heated up water, poured it into my travel mug, and put it on my nightstand. “Wife, have some water before you get up.” He’d been saying it for over two years. I thought he was being considerate. I sat in the chair in the study holding that blister pack. I stared at it for a long time. I didn’t cry. I just felt cold. A coldness seeping out from my bones. I took out my phone, snapped a photo. Then I put the pills back exactly where they were. Put the envelope back. Closed the drawer. I walked to the bathroom. Turned on the faucet. Let the water run for a long time. I splashed water on my face. Looked in the mirror at myself. I was thirty-one years old. There were fine lines around my eyes. He said, “Babe, you work so hard.” He said, “Babe, get some rest.” He said, “When we save enough money, we’ll buy a big house with a huge yard.” While saying all that, every single day, he was crushing a birth control pill into my water cup. Ensuring I wouldn’t get pregnant for two years. Because the woman over there had already had his child. He didn’t need two. I turned off the faucet. Dried my face. Walked out of the bathroom. Sat in the living room. Took out a notebook. Actually, it was an Excel spreadsheet on my laptop. I calculated every penny from the last eight years. Mortgage: Three thousand six hundred a month. For eight years, that was three hundred forty-five thousand six hundred dollars. The first three years, I paid it alone—his salary was low back then. Later, his salary went up and he said, “I’ll handle the mortgage.” But the bank account for deductions was never changed. It was always my card being charged. The down payment: The borrowed money and my 401k, totaling forty thousand dollars. Household expenses: He transferred me two thousand, but the actual monthly spend was three to four thousand. I covered the difference. Eight years, I’d subsidized at least ninety-six thousand dollars. Financial support for his parents: Five hundred a month. For eight years, that was forty-eight thousand. He said, “I’ll send it to my mom.” But for three years, I transferred it directly—because he “forgot.” My bonuses: Eight years, all went toward joint debts, household shortfalls, and buying gifts for his family during the holidays. Total— I calculated it three times. Five hundred sixty-nine thousand, six hundred dollars. In these eight years, I had poured five hundred sixty-nine thousand, six hundred dollars into this home. While he had spent at least four hundred thousand dollars on that woman in just three years. My eight years. Her three years. I opened my sister’s folder and turned to the property page. condo, eight hundred fifty thousand, paid in full. Our own house, I paid the forty thousand down payment, and we still owed one hundred and fifty thousand on the mortgage. He bought the mistress a home in cash. He gave me a mortgage. I closed the laptop. Picked up my phone. “Sis.” “I’m here.” “Help me find a divorce lawyer. The best one.” “Already found him. Mr. Fitzgerald. Tomorrow at three PM.” She had prepared everything six months ago. “Thank you.” “Maddie, are you still mad at me?” “Yes.” “…” “But I’m going to deal with Arthur first.”

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The day my uncle reported me, he dropped a $100 digital cash gift into the family group chat. The attached note read: “Good things are coming.” Twenty-three people claimed a piece of it, and eight replied, “Congratulations.” No one asked what they were congratulating him for. Because the day before, my uncle had announced in the group: “Someone’s going to investigate Nolan’s company.” I looked at my phone screen and smiled. Let them investigate. I had been waiting for this day for three months. 1. My uncle’s name is Richard Hayes, my dad’s older brother. My dad, Robert Hayes, passed away from stomach cancer six years ago. When he passed, Uncle Richard came over. Not to pay his final respects. But to take the bank statements. “How much money did your dad manage to save up?” That was the first thing he said when he walked through the door. My mom was crying on the bed, and I stood in the doorway. “Uncle Richard, my dad hasn’t even been buried yet.” “I know,” Uncle Richard said, sitting down. “But bank matters can’t wait. If your dad had savings, we need to sort it out first. The Hayes family’s money can’t go to an outsider.” Outsider. He glanced at my mom. My mom had been married into the Hayes family for twenty-six years, and in his mouth, she was an outsider. I didn’t argue with him that day. My dad had $110,000 in his account. Uncle Richard took $60,000, calling it “his share of the brotherhood over the years.” My mom stopped me from fighting him, saying, “Don’t cause a scene with your uncle. Your dad just left us, and he’s the only elder left in the family.” I didn’t cause a scene. I was twenty-four that year, two years out of college. My salary was $4,500 a month. $60,000 was more than a year of my salary. I remembered that. Later, I started my own company. It wasn’t some legendary rags-to-riches tale. I just started by selling goods at local flea markets, then moved into wholesale snacks and beverages, building it up bit by bit. By the third year, my annual revenue surpassed five million. By the fifth year, it surpassed twenty million. Uncle Richard came to visit. “Nolan, your cousin Derek is working odd jobs, very unstable. Isn’t your company short-staffed? Let him come help you.” I looked at my uncle. “Uncle Richard, the company has a hiring process—” “What process?” Uncle Richard slammed his hand on the desk. “He’s your own cousin! If your dad were still alive, would I even have to beg you?” My mom tugged at my shirt from the side. “Nolan, just let Derek come. We’re all family.” So, Derek joined the company. I put him in the purchasing department. A base salary of $8,000, plus commissions—he was taking home $12,000 to $15,000 a month. Double what he was making before. Uncle Richard was very satisfied. He was satisfied for three months. Then he came back. “Give Derek the Purchasing Manager position.” “Uncle Richard, he’s only been here for three months. He has no experience—” “What do you mean, no experience?” Uncle Richard scoffed. “If you can be the boss, your cousin—who is even smarter than you—can certainly be a purchasing manager!” I looked at him. “Uncle Richard, this is my company.” “Your company?” Uncle Richard laughed. “If your dad were still alive, would this company even be yours to run?” That sentence was like a thorn, piercing right into me. I didn’t say anything. The next day, I promoted Derek to Deputy Purchasing Manager. Not because of my uncle’s words. But because my mom cried all night again. 2. After Derek became Deputy Manager, the demands from my uncle’s family started to escalate. First, Aunt Susan called: “Nolan, your cousin is getting married, and he’s a little short on the down payment for the house. Loan him $300,000.” “Loan?” “Yes, loan. It’s not like he won’t pay you back.” $300,000. I did have money in the company accounts at the time, but it was all tied up in cash flow. Pulling out $300,000 wasn’t easy. My mom said: “Just loan it to him. It’s family.” So I loaned it to him. Transferred straight to Derek’s account. I didn’t even make him sign an IOU. Then Uncle Richard came again: “Your grandmother isn’t doing well. You pay her hospital bills. You make a lot of money.” I paid it. $80,000. Then Aunt Susan came again: “Derek’s getting married, and we don’t have enough for the banquet. Pitch in $50,000.” I pitched in. Then Derek came: “Bro, I’m a little short on buying a car. Loan me $100,000.” I loaned it to him. I keep a notebook. Every single transaction is recorded in it. It’s not that I’m petty. It’s that I discovered something. Uncle Richard was telling people outside: “My nephew’s company, to be honest, relies on the Hayes family name. Could he be where he is today if I hadn’t pulled him up back then? Giving us a little money is nothing.” A former classmate of mine told me this. She heard it at the grocery store. My uncle was chatting with someone in the produce aisle. “Nolan makes so much, what’s it to him to give us a little? If it weren’t for the Hayes family reputation, who would do business with him?” $1.46 million. Eight years. That’s the total amount I had spent on my uncle’s family. His exact words were, “Giving us a little money is nothing.” Derek worked at the company for three years. He was relatively honest the first year. Starting the second year, purchasing costs kept climbing. I asked him: “Why is this batch of raw materials 15% more expensive than last quarter?” He said: “The market price went up. You know how it is.” I checked the purchasing prices of our competitors. They hadn’t gone up. I then looked into the suppliers Derek was dealing with. And I discovered a pattern. Of the three new suppliers Derek recommended, two had legal representatives who were his college fraternity brothers. The suppliers quoted inflated prices, and Derek signed off on the invoices. Where did the price difference go? I had finance audit all the purchase orders Derek was responsible for. Three years. Total difference: $870,000. $870,000. I gave him $300,000 for his house down payment. $100,000 for his car. Plus his salary, commissions, and holiday bonuses. His way of repaying me was embezzling $870,000 from my company. Sitting in my office that night, looking at that report, my hands were shaking. Not out of fear. But out of anger. 3. I didn’t expose Derek immediately. I did something else. I hired a professional CPA firm to conduct a comprehensive audit of the company’s accounts for the past three years. The public explanation was, “The company is seeking outside financing and needs to bulletproof its financials.” Derek didn’t take it seriously. He even told his dad: “Nolan is trying to get investors. Make sure he gives me a VP title when the money comes in.” The day the audit results came out, I locked my office door and spent the entire afternoon reading it. Besides Derek’s embezzlement, the audit revealed something else. Because of the fake invoices Derek had created, several company expenses were misclassified. As a result, the company had overpaid nearly $500,000 in taxes over the past three years. $500,000. I could apply for a tax refund from the IRS for this amount. But I didn’t apply for it immediately. Because I suddenly thought of a scenario. If someone reported me to the IRS for tax evasion and they came to audit my books— What would they find? They would find that I hadn’t evaded a single cent. They would find that I had actually overpaid taxes. And they would find that Derek had been cooking the books for three years. I closed the audit report. Then, I fired Derek. The reason given was “company restructuring and downsizing.” I gave him a generous severance package. Sent him off with full dignity. Derek even shook my hand when he left: “Bro, thanks for taking care of me these past few years.” I looked at his face. And smiled. “Don’t mention it.” Uncle Richard exploded. He stormed into my house that very night. “What the hell is the meaning of this?!” “The company is restructuring. It has nothing to do with Derek personally.” “Bullshit! He was doing a great job. What right do you have to fire him?” “Uncle Richard, it was a company decision.” “A company decision? Your company? If it weren’t—” He was about to say that sentence again. I cut him off. “Yes, my company. My name is on the LLC registration.” Uncle Richard glared at me. “Nolan, don’t forget your last name is Hayes.” “I haven’t forgotten.” I looked right into his eyes. “But the name Hayes was given to me by my dad. Not you.” My uncle slammed the door when he left. The noise was so loud it rattled the windows. My mom was pale with fear. “Nolan, how could you speak to your uncle like that…” “Mom, he stole $870,000 from my company.” My mom froze. “What?” “Derek took kickbacks at the company. For three years. $870,000.” My mom sat on the sofa, speechless for a long time. After a while, she finally said something. “Well… just let it go. We’re all family…” I looked at my mom. “$1.46 million.” “Huh?” “In these eight years, I’ve spent $1.46 million on Uncle Richard’s family. Add the $870,000 Derek stole. That’s a total of $2.33 million.” I enunciated every word. “Mom, you tell me, which relative on earth is worth $2.33 million?” My mom stopped talking. 4. A month after Derek was fired, I noticed something. The company’s financial system login records showed that after Derek left, someone tried to log in using his old credentials. The login failed because I had already changed all the passwords. But the IP address of the login attempt was traced back to my uncle’s house. I had my IT guy dig deeper. It wasn’t just once. Over the past month, there were seventeen login attempts. All from Uncle Richard’s IP. They were trying to get into the company’s financial system. Why? To find “evidence” of my tax evasion. I looked through the backups of Derek’s computer from when he was still employed. I found that before he left, he had copied a massive amount of files to a hard drive. Purchase orders, expense reports, tax return forms. Some were real. Some he had altered. He had modified the traces of his fake accounts, making those inflated numbers look like I was artificially inflating costs to evade corporate taxes. I sat in front of my computer, staring at the screen. They weren’t reporting me on impulse. They had been preparing this for at least half a year. They started collecting materials and modifying data while Derek was still drawing a paycheck from me. The firing was just the catalyst. They had been planning to destroy me for a long time. That day, I called Mr. Harrison, the head CPA at the accounting firm. “Mr. Harrison, regarding that audit report, I need you to generate a detailed version for me.” “Mr. Hayes, how detailed?” “Detailed down to the original vouchers, the cash flow, and the final destination of every single fraudulent transaction.” “Understood.” “Also,” I added, “hold off on filing for that tax refund for now. Wait for my signal.” Mr. Harrison paused. “Mr. Hayes, are you waiting for someone?” I didn’t answer. I just hung up. I was waiting for Uncle Richard. He moved faster than I expected. Forty-seven days after firing Derek, I received a call from the IRS. “Mr. Hayes, we’ve received a whistleblower report alleging that your company is engaging in tax evasion. According to procedure, we need to conduct a tax audit. Please cooperate.” “Understood. When would be a convenient time?” “The day after tomorrow, at 9:00 AM.” “No problem.” I hung up the phone. I opened the family group chat. Sure enough, Uncle Richard had already sent a message. “Good things are coming.” Below it was a digital cash gift for $100. Twenty-three people grabbed a piece. Eight replied “Congratulations.” Aunt Susan sent a voice message: “Let’s see how stubborn he is this time!” Derek sent a sinister, smirking emoji. Uncle Thomas asked: “What good thing?” Uncle Richard replied: “You’ll all know when the time comes.” I put down my phone. Picked up my office receiver and called Mr. Harrison. “You can start preparing the tax refund documents.” 5. The day the IRS arrived, I got to the company an hour earlier than usual. I organized all the ledgers, vouchers, and reports, and placed them neatly in the conference room. The CPA audit report remained locked in my desk drawer. At exactly 9:00 AM, three IRS agents arrived. The lead agent, a man named Miller, was in his forties and looked incredibly stern. “Mr. Hayes, we received a report alleging that your company is artificially inflating costs to evade taxes. By law, we need to conduct a comprehensive audit of your company’s accounts for the past three years.” “Agent Miller, full cooperation is guaranteed. All the materials are in the conference room. You have full access.” I opened the door to the conference room for them. Agent Miller gave me a strange look. Most business owners being audited didn’t look this relaxed when the IRS walked in. I was too calm. He didn’t say anything and led his team inside. At 10:00 AM. A large passenger van pulled up to the company entrance. Uncle Richard was here. And not just him. Uncle Richard, Aunt Susan, Derek, Uncle Thomas, Aunt Carol, and seven or eight distant relatives whose names I could barely remember. Over twenty people in total. A massive, marching contingent. “Uncle Richard, what are you all doing here?” Jessica, my receptionist, tried to stop them. “Just taking a look around!” Uncle Richard boomed, his voice echoing in the lobby. “Taking a look at Nolan’s company!” He looked around, a look of absolute triumph in his eyes. “Seeing how many more days this place can keep its doors open!” I looked down from the interior window of my office. Over twenty people were crammed into the reception area. A few employees had already stopped working to watch the spectacle. I called the front desk. “Let them up.” “Mr. Hayes?” Jessica’s voice sounded panicked. “Let them up,” I repeated. “Open the main boardroom. Serve them coffee.” When Uncle Richard led the group upstairs, his face practically screamed, I’ve finally waited for this day. He looked even more triumphant when he saw the IRS agents working in the adjacent conference room. “Oh, you boys are already here?” He pulled up a chair and sat down in the boardroom. “Audit away, audit thoroughly.” Agent Miller stepped out and frowned. “And you are?” “I’m his uncle.” Uncle Richard pointed at me through the glass. “To be honest, the Hayes family owns a piece of this company too.” Agent Miller looked at me for confirmation. I nodded. “He’s my uncle. Let him watch.” Uncle Richard looked even more pleased with himself. He waved at the relatives behind him. “Sit down, everyone, sit down! Let’s all see what kind of ‘good deeds’ Nolan has been up to today!” The relatives filed in, filling the main boardroom. Aunt Susan sat in the front row, legs crossed, looking smug. Derek stood in the corner, hands in his pockets, trying to look expressionless but failing to hide a smirk. After sitting down, Uncle Thomas whispered to his wife: “Richard said the IRS found massive problems. He might be fined millions and go to federal prison.” Aunt Carol gasped: “Then isn’t he completely finished?” The voices weren’t loud. But I heard them. Over twenty pairs of eyes stared at me through the glass partition. Not a single look held an ounce of concern. Some were gloating. Some were just waiting for the show. Some looked entirely indifferent. And then there was one—Uncle Richard. His eyes held naked, greedy expectation. Waiting for my downfall. Waiting to see me cry. Waiting for me to beg him for mercy. I sat in my leather chair and took a sip of my coffee. Good. If it’s a show you want, it’s a show you’ll get. I wanted to see who would be crying when the curtain fell. 6. The IRS audited for two days. During those two days, my uncle came every single day. The first day, he could sit still. By the second day, he was getting restless. “Why aren’t they done auditing yet?” He paced back and forth in the hallway, looking agitated. “Is it almost done?” He asked every agent who stepped out of the conference room to use the restroom. No one answered him. At 4:00 PM on the second day, Agent Miller asked to speak with me in my office. “Mr. Hayes, the preliminary audit results are ready.” “Okay.” “Regarding the materials provided by the whistleblower, I need to verify a few things with you.” “Go ahead.” Agent Miller opened a thick manila folder. “The whistleblower provided copies of several purchase orders and tax returns from 2021 to 2023, claiming your company evaded taxes by artificially inflating costs.” He looked at me over his glasses. “But we found during our cross-referencing that the materials provided by the whistleblower and the actual data entered into the company’s books—don’t match.” “They don’t match?” “The numbers on the purchase orders provided by the whistleblower are significantly higher than the actual numbers entered into your ledgers.” I remained silent. “In other words,” Agent Miller paused, “the materials provided by the whistleblower have been intentionally altered.” I nodded. “I know.” Agent Miller looked at me sharply. “You know?” “These purchase orders were handled by my former Deputy Purchasing Manager, Derek Hayes. During his employment, he artificially inflated purchasing costs and transferred the difference into his personal accounts. These altered materials you received are copies he modified and exported before he left the company.” I unlocked my desk drawer and pulled out the CPA audit report. “This is a comprehensive audit I commissioned from an independent accounting firm half a year ago. It contains the complete chain of evidence of Derek’s fraudulent accounting.” I handed the heavy binder to Agent Miller. “It includes the original vouchers for every fraudulent transaction, the corresponding bank statements, and the private accounts where the funds ultimately ended up.” Agent Miller flipped through a few pages. His expression shifted from professional skepticism to absolute shock. “Mr. Hayes… with this level of evidence, why didn’t you report this to the police months ago?” I smiled. “Because I was waiting for someone to make the first move.”

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The first time I went to my CEO boyfriend’s house, his mother served me a bowl of premium bird’s nest soup. I took a sip and casually said, “Auntie, this glass noodle soup tastes pretty good.” Instantly, the atmosphere in his living room dropped to freezing. After dinner, my boyfriend, Arthur, walked me downstairs. His tone was as cold as ice: “Chloe, let’s break up. My mom is right. Bringing a woman as uncultured as you out will only embarrass me.” The very next day, he had a high-profile engagement with Elena, a wealthy heiress who matched his social status. My heart turned to ash. I quit my job and went home to help my dad manage his “ordinary” ecological farm. Years later, to secure the exclusive distribution rights for premium organic ingredients, he came to visit in person. Seeing me in a rough linen uniform, brewing tea, his eyes filled with contempt. “Chloe, you’ve sunk so low that you’re serving tea and pouring water here? Looks like you haven’t been doing well since you left me.” He picked up the teacup, blew on it, and slowly lectured me: “There’s a gap between people. Bird’s nest and glass noodles are, after all, not the same thing.” I lowered my head and handed over a freshly brewed cup of Da Hong Pao. He took a sip and frowned: “Why does it taste like rotten wood?” “Mr. Sterling, this is the specially supplied Wuyi Mountain Mother Tree Da Hong Pao. It costs over ten thousand dollars a gram.” He sneered: “Haven’t seen you in a few years, but you still haven’t kicked the habit of bragging. Someone like you only deserves to drink rotten wood.” 1 Three days ago, I was in New Zealand hosting an international summit on the future of agriculture when I received an urgent call from my dad, calling me back. He said he had found a pretty good young man for me. He said the guy had great character and ability, and his family owned the world’s top luxury travel real estate brand, which perfectly complemented our family’s business. “Dad, I don’t want to go on a blind date.” “It’s not a blind date,” My dad chuckled like an old fox on the other end of the line. “It’s a collaboration. Isn’t our farm’s project at the top-tier ‘Cloudscape’ resort about to launch? The Vance family is our biggest partner. You go, just treat it as an early assessment of our partner.” The identity he arranged for me was the resort’s tea master. “Remember, rein in your temper. Don’t scare the guy away.” “Whether it’s a good fit or not, you decide after you see him. If it really doesn’t work out, we don’t have to do the project. My daughter’s happiness is the most important thing.” I agreed. After all, it was about the group’s strategic layout for the next decade; it was right for me to personally gatekeep. But I didn’t expect that before I even met Julian Vance, right after changing into my uniform and getting ready in the tearoom, I’d run head-on into Arthur. He was in a white suit, his gaze firmly locked onto me, a trace of sarcasm hanging on his lips. “Chloe, long time no see.” I nodded, considering it a greeting, and turned to leave. “Stop right there.” His voice wasn’t loud, but it carried an unquestionable tone of command. “Can I help you, Mr. Sterling?” My tone was flat, devoid of emotion. He frowned, his face darkening: “What, it’s been three years since we broke up, and you’re not even willing to pretend anymore?” “Is this your service attitude? What’s your employee number? I want to file a complaint.” I didn’t speak. His gaze swept over my plain linen uniform, and he suddenly smiled. “You don’t even have a nametag. A temp?” “Makes sense. You never had any ambition when you were at the company. If I hadn’t promoted you, you’d still be making PowerPoints at the entry-level.” “Still, managing to sneak into ‘Cloudscape’ as a temp is quite a feat for you.” “Go get your manager. Your service makes me very uncomfortable and has seriously affected my mood.” I tightened my grip on the tea towel. I really wanted to throw the freshly boiled water right onto his arrogant face. But remembering my dad’s instructions, I squeezed out a standard professional smile. “You’re joking, Mr. Sterling. The past few years have been alright. Just flying all over the world for meetings, occasionally a bit tired from jet lag.” “As for ambition? I’m never short on that.” As the sole heir to the Davis Ecological Empire, future head of the world’s largest organic farms and eco-resorts… How could I possibly be content with the status quo? He smirked contemptuously: “Chloe, what kind of global meetings does a temp go to? Three years later, and you’re still so vain.” “Just like back then, when you insisted that bowl of bird’s nest was glass noodles, completely embarrassing me in front of my mom.” “Although our Sterling family isn’t top-tier old money, we’re still respectable. Did we need a girl from an ordinary family like you to keep up appearances? What exactly are you so insecure about?” He was still harping on about that? I took a deep breath, too lazy to explain again: “I was telling the truth.” He stared at me for a long time, his gaze shifting from mockery to disappointment, finally softening into a trace of pity. “Forget it. For someone like you, living in your own fantasies, why should I even hold out any expectations?” He paced to the window, looking out at the misty lake view, his voice carrying a hint of loneliness: “Brew me a cup of tea.” “The most expensive one you have here.” “Put it on my tab. I’ll give you a thousand dollars tip. That’s enough for you to work here for half a month, right?” I didn’t move. He raised an eyebrow, displeased: “What? Not enough? Or are you saying a temp like you isn’t even qualified to touch the most expensive tea leaves?” “Right away, Mr. Sterling.” I turned and went into the storage room, bringing out the Mother Tree Da Hong Pao my dad treasured, prepared specifically to host Julian. I carefully took three grams and brewed it with mountain spring water. When I returned with the tea set, I saw a familiar figure intimately holding Arthur’s arm. Elena. She was dressed in haute couture, the diamond ring on her hand still blindingly bright in the dim light. Seeing me, she exaggeratedly covered her mouth: “Oh my god! Chloe? What are you doing here?!” 2 Her eyes were full of feigned shock: “Weren’t you a white-collar worker in a top-tier office building downtown? Why did you run off to the mountains to be a waitress?” “I remember your family’s financial situation was just average. The salary for this job probably isn’t high, right? Did you run into some difficulties?” I placed the tea in front of Arthur, ignored her, and turned to leave. “Wait.” she called out to me with a drawn-out voice. “I’ll have the same cup, thanks.” I was just about to go get more tea leaves, but she beat me to it, taking off the necklace around her neck and tossing it onto my tray. “Bulgari, limited edition. Only thirty thousand or so. Take it as a tip for your hard work.” I glanced down at it. It was last year’s old model. The boutiques had put it on clearance long ago. I pushed the necklace right back in front of her, saying lightly: “My family’s storage room is full of boxes of outdated styles like this. They’re all gifts from partners. The designs are too old-fashioned; I can’t be bothered to wear them.” Elena was visibly stunned, then she laughed exaggeratedly, leaning against Arthur: “Chloe, this is real gold and silver, not the fakes you used to buy at street stalls.” The contempt in Arthur’s eyes was practically overflowing: “Take it. Selling it will save you a few years of struggle. Elena is kind-hearted; don’t be ungrateful.” “Are you sure you want to give it to me?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. Elena smiled, resting her chin on her hand, her eyes full of condescension: “Of course.” I picked up the necklace and casually tossed it into the bamboo trash can by the window: “Sorry, our resort has a strict policy against accepting any gifts from guests.” “Chloe!” Elena screamed, lunging toward the trash can. She frantically retrieved the necklace and waved it furiously in my face. “A thirty-thousand-dollar necklace, and you just throw it away? Are you crazy? Do you know this could buy several square feet of that rundown house your family lives in?” I looked at her, amused: “Does your heart ache? I can compensate you. But this style is too old; I might have to hunt for it in the secondhand market.” Elena was instantly speechless. Arthur suddenly sneered: “Pretending to be a rich heiress? With what you’re worth, selling yourself wouldn’t even cover the cost!” My expression darkened immediately. “Give me your payment QR code. I’ll have my assistant transfer the money to you right now…” “Enough!” Arthur sharply interrupted me. “It’s fine if you spout this crazy talk in front of me, but if word gets out, people will just think you’re mentally ill.” Elena immediately chimed in. “Arthur, I forgot she had a habit of bragging. It seems to be getting worse now.” She shook her head with feigned magnanimity. “Forget it. Given our status, how can we argue with a crazy person?” Arthur affectionately stroked her hair and cast a sidelong glance at me. “Elena is so sensible. Unlike some people, who are not only poor but also have a foul and stubborn temper.” Elena sighed pretentiously, putting on a look of profound pity. “My dad is very close with your resort’s purchasing director. How about I ask him to see if they can make you a permanent employee?” “No need.” I cut her off flatly. “We’re old colleagues. We used to have a pretty good relationship back at the company.” She waved her hand dismissively. “It’s just a phone call. It’s no trouble.” If she really made that call, my identity would be exposed immediately, and wouldn’t my dad’s plan be completely ruined? Seeing her actually pull out her phone to dial, I grabbed her hand: “I said I don’t need it! Mind your own business!” Even though she used to always drag me along to hang out back at the company. But I’ll always remember, after she saw Arthur’s mother humiliate me, she turned around and spread it through the company in a sympathetic tone: “Poor Chloe, getting rejected the first time she met the parents.” “Arthur’s mom said she was uncultured and not good enough for him.” Even more ironically, right after Arthur broke up with me, he announced his engagement to her on social media. I quit immediately, and she specifically came to see me off. “Chloe, Arthur always felt you weren’t good enough for him. Only someone with a matching family background like mine can help him.” “I wanted to tell you earlier, but I was afraid you’d be sad.” “You know, that bird’s nest incident was just an excuse for him to make up his mind…” I didn’t need her reminder. I had already noticed the ambiguous interactions between her and Arthur, but I just didn’t want to believe it. “Chloe!” Elena’s shrill voice snapped me out of my memories. “How can you be so ungrateful? I’m trying to help you! Do you even know what’s good for you?” Help me? I only saw blatant showing off and humiliation. I looked up coldly: “Is that so? If you keep pestering me, believe it or not, I’ll throw you into the lake outside to feed the fishes right now.” 3 I turned around with a cold face, and Elena’s hysterical screams came from behind me: “Manager! Manager! I want to file a complaint against this waitress! She threatened my personal safety! She’s a lunatic!” Arthur lunged forward and grabbed my wrist hard. “Elena has always been kind and generous. You’ve made her this angry, aren’t you going to apologize?” I was completely enraged. “Arthur, control your fiancée! If she dares to provoke me again, I’ll make her learn the meaning of regret!” Even the old executives who had followed my dad in the group for decades had to be polite to me. Who the hell was Elena, to throw her weight around in front of me? Arthur’s grip loosened slightly: “Who said she’s my fiancée? We’re only engaged.” “Doesn’t matter!” I shook off his hand, enunciating every word. “Control your woman!” Arthur’s face instantly darkened, and he gave a self-deprecating smirk. “Chloe, I fucking shouldn’t have pushed back multi-million dollar contracts just to come here when I saw your picture on the resort’s brochure!” I was momentarily stunned, not understanding what he meant. “Mr. Sterling came all this way just to bring your woman here to humiliate me?” He seemed choked by my words, unable to say a single syllable for a long time. Just as I was about to leave, Elena suddenly rushed up and slapped me hard across the face. “Chloe! You’re just someone who pours tea and water. Tell me, how are you going to throw me into the lake to feed the fishes?” My cheek burned with a stinging pain, making my ears ring. I raised my hand to strike back, but Arthur yanked me into his arms, holding me tight. “You can’t afford to mess with the Smith family.” He lowered his voice near my ear. “Take this slap as an apology to Elena, and leave quickly. I’ll clean up the mess, unless you want to lose this job.” I struggled fiercely: “A mere building materials supplier like the Smith family, what’s there to be afraid of?” With the sheer size of our Davis Group, making the Smith family disappear from the industry was just a matter of one word from my dad. But Arthur held me even tighter: “Chloe, you don’t have the life of a princess, but you have the ‘princess syndrome’!” “You’re so arrogant and ignorant, how am I supposed to protect you?” Seeing him holding me so tightly, Elena’s eyes turned red with jealousy: “Where’s the manager? Where is everyone?! This homewrecker not only threatened me, she’s also trying to seduce my fiancé!” Her shrill voice drew the attention of many other guests. “Oh my god, this is the top resort in the country. How can the staff’s quality be so poor?” “I saw it just now. Miss Smith kindly gave her a necklace, and she threw it in the trash.” “A homewrecker and she’s this arrogant? She deserved to be slapped!” Seeing that public opinion was on her side, Elena grew even more arrogant: “Chloe, I’ve put up with you for a long time! Now, do you still dare to be so insolent?” Even if everyone pointed their fingers at my nose and cursed me, I couldn’t care less. Could I really expect this mob to distinguish right from wrong? Arthur held me in an iron grip; I couldn’t move, so I could only use all my strength to kick Elena. Just as the tip of my shoe touched her pant leg, Arthur shoved me away violently, nervously checking if Elena was hurt. I stumbled a few steps and fell heavily to the ground. The crowd looked down at me, pointing. “In broad daylight, a homewrecker dares to hit someone!” “The staff at this resort are completely lawless!” “Complaint! We’re all going to complain. She must be kicked out!” “Fine,” I slowly stood up, brushed the dust off my clothes, and said word by word, “I’ll personally take you to file a complaint against me!” 4 Arthur looked at me in disbelief: “Chloe, can’t you just swallow your pride? Do you know the consequences of a mass complaint?” “You’ll be completely blacklisted from the industry. Let alone a top-tier resort, even a roadside motel won’t hire you.” Having said that, he turned to the crowd and explained: “Everyone, it’s a misunderstanding. She’s just my ex-girlfriend.” “She’s just a bit stubborn, but she really needs this job. Please do me a favor and let this go.” Elena immediately whined in dissatisfaction: “Arthur! Why are you still speaking up for her?” Arthur gently put his arm around her: “Elena, what I admire most about you is your kindness. Unlike her… forget it.” These words seemed to be helping me out, but in reality, every word was degrading me, painting me as a crazy person who couldn’t let go. We dated for two years, and we’ve been broken up for three. His perception of me was still stuck on that ordinary girl who needed his charity and pity. In that moment, I suddenly found it all so incredibly dull. I had plenty of ways to deal with Elena. Why make myself look so pathetic in front of so many people? Elena held Arthur’s arm affectionately, a victor’s smile on her face: “Chloe, with your lowly status, do you really think you can fight me?” “In this resort, even if Julian Vance, the eldest young master of the Vance family, came, he’d have to give my dad some face!” I gave her a cold side-eye: “Is that so? Then I’ll call him right now and ask him exactly who he should be giving face to.” As I spoke, I pulled out my phone, but accidentally pulled out a small spare packet of tea leaves from my pocket, spilling them all over the floor. Arthur looked down, saw clearly what it was, and his face instantly turned pale green: “What you gave me to drink just now… was this?” “Yeah,” I nodded calmly. “Didn’t you say it tasted like rotten wood?” “Chloe!” Arthur suddenly clutched his chest, looking pained. “You know I have a sensitive stomach, I never drink this kind of cheap tea!” “I didn’t know.” It’s been three years since we broke up. Who remembers his delicate ailments? His eyes dimmed, his voice carrying hurt: “Right, you’ve always been so heartless. Just like how you left me back then without any hesitation.” I really couldn’t understand. He was clearly the one who initiated the breakup back then. How did it become my fault now? Before I could sort through my thoughts, Elena started shrieking: “Oh my god! We ordered the most expensive tea, and you actually tried to pass off this street stall garbage on us? How much of the difference did you pocket?” The crowd instantly became restless. “Are we drinking this rotten tea too?” “Claiming to be the number one eco-resort in the country, are they really this shady?” At this moment, the resort’s Operations Manager hurried over with security. Without a word, she had security restrain me, then turned and bowed deeply to the crowd: “Dear VIPs, please rest assured. All the tea at ‘Cloudscape’ is specially supplied organic tea, absolutely no inferior products. We will seriously deal with this employee who brought in outside tea.” “As an apology, all expenses in the tearoom today are on the house. We wish you a pleasant stay.” Her sincere apology caused the onlookers to gradually disperse. I was about to break free from the security guard’s grip, but Elena pushed her luck and continued to press the issue: “Her service attitude is terrible, and she threatened to throw me in the lake. Is that all she gets, a reprimand?” “I demand that she be fired immediately and kicked out of the resort! I don’t feel safe staying in the same place with such a dangerous person.” Saying that, she shot me a mocking look: “It’s the middle of nowhere here. Being kicked out… you’ll probably end up as wolf food in the mountains.” The manager frowned in a difficult position. “Miss Smith, this is private property. It’s very dangerous to kick her out now that it’s getting dark.” Arthur instantly looked displeased: “Elena, stop messing around! Someone could die.” Seeing Arthur getting a bit angry, Elena curled her lip and reluctantly backed down. “Then, at least fire her. That’s not too much to ask, right?” But the manager smiled bitterly: “She’s someone directly arranged by upper management. We… we can’t touch her.” I was completely relieved. It seems my dad wasn’t completely senile yet. He had at least given the people below a heads-up. Otherwise, given the momentum of these people following Elena’s lead, I would have had to suffer a lot of indignity today. Elena sneered disdainfully. “Upper management? You must know my dad, Robert Smith, right? All the building materials for your entire resort are supplied by our family! If you offend me, do you still want to cooperate on the next phase?” “Don’t tell me you can’t touch her. I’ll call my dad right now, let’s see who dares to say ‘no’!” Arthur stopped Elena, who had already pulled out her phone, and frowned, asking: “Who exactly is this upper management? What’s the name?” The manager kept her head down: “I’m truly sorry, Mr. Sterling. The higher-ups specifically instructed not to disclose that.” The security guard pinning me down let go of me discreetly upon hearing this. I smoothed out my wrinkled clothes and somewhat messy hair, and calmly dialed a number. Seeing this, Elena aggressively pointed her finger at me, lifting her chin high: “Even if the Jade Emperor himself comes today, I’m making you pack your bags!” At that moment, the call connected. I put it on speakerphone and handed it directly to her: “Why don’t you tell him yourself? Tell him to fire me.”

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