Category: English

Forced to marry the powerful Grant Covington after my twin sister eloped, I faced a double life. By day, as his assistant, he was ruthlessly critical. By night, he was a demanding lover, whispering about my sister’s shortcomings. When she returned, demanding her life back, Grant fired me, accusing me of seduction. I left, taking a fortune from them both. Months later, on a beach, my sobbing sister called. Grant wouldn’t touch her; she begged me to return and have his baby for them. I hung up, one thought lingering: how was a man as insatiable as Grant surviving three months without it? 1 I’m Grant Covington’s executive assistant. And I’m about to quit. Who would’ve thought that the same Mr. Covington who’s the picture of cold, professional restraint by day, turns into an absolute freak in bed at night. During meetings, his long, elegant fingers tap against the polished table, his expression sharp, radiating an almost suffocating pressure. All I can think about is how last night, he was wearing my black silk lingerie, hooking a leg around my waist and purring, “Baby, come on, faster…” “June! Ms. Shaw!” A nudge from my colleague snaps me back. Grant is calling my name. I jump to my feet. “I’m so sorry, sir. I was just…” “You were what? Spacing out during a board meeting? Am I paying you a six-figure salary to daydream?” His face is a mask of disdain. “Do you not sleep at night? You walk in here every day looking like death warmed over. And since when did Apex Global’s dress code permit… that?” I blink, confused, then follow his gaze. He’s staring at the faint purple mark on my neck, a kiss I’d failed to cover completely with my silk scarf. My cheeks burn. “I’m sorry, sir. I…” “I don’t want your excuses,” he snaps, his voice cutting through the silent room. “Let me be clear, Ms. Shaw. If it weren’t for your sister, you wouldn’t have a place here. So you and your boyfriend need to tone it down. I don’t want to see this kind of trashy display in my office again. One more time, and you’re fired.” He slams a file onto the table, ignoring the humiliation burning its way through me, and declares, “Meeting adjourned!” 2 The reprimand stings, but I’m too exhausted to feel much else. I barely slept three hours last night, and my head is pounding. I drift back to my desk in a fog. When lunchtime rolls around, I stumble out of the building and into the luxury apartment next door. From the walk-in closet, I pull out a designer dress and a breathtaking diamond necklace. Under the dim light, the yellow diamond glows like a drop of solidified amber. It’s the one Grant bought for his wife at an auction last month. A ten-million-dollar piece that made the society pages. And now it’s in my hands. I tap it against the table, just to hear the sound. That’s right. I’m the wife he adores. And I’m the assistant he can’t stand. He thinks we’re twin sisters. But it’s always just been me. The “trashy” mark on my neck? He put it there himself. Six months ago, right after I started at Apex Global, my parents summoned me home. My twin sister, Seraphina, had run off with her rocker boyfriend, leaving a void in the arranged marriage with the Covington family. They wanted me to take her place. To marry Grant Covington under her name. “Your sister will regret this one day,” my mother pleaded, tears streaming down her face. “We have to leave a path open for her to come back!” “June, you’ve always had it easy, growing up with us in the city. Seraphina was stuck in that small town with your grandparents. She didn’t even finish high school. Think of this as… paying back a debt you owe her. Please?” She threatened to kill herself. I had no choice but to agree. I figured it would be a marriage of convenience. We’d be polite strangers, like most couples in our circle, living separate lives. And at first, it was. But then, it was like Grant was possessed. He became an insatiable demon in the bedroom, clinging to me every night. If I ever said no, his eyes would turn red-rimmed and wounded. He’d wrap his lean thighs around my waist and whisper hoarsely, “Baby, don’t you love me anymore? Did you find someone else? Don’t leave me… I can’t live without you…” What could I do? He was the one begging for it. So, I reluctantly indulged. At first, it was a thrill. But lately, I just want to castrate him. This past month, I’ve been averaging three hours of sleep a night. The exhaustion is making me sloppy at work, and the constant tongue-lashings are grinding me down. This double life—working for him by day, and working for him by night—is killing me. I run my hands through my hair and collapse onto the bed, my mind a swirling mess. Before I can even begin to think of a way out, I’m dead asleep. 3 An hour later, my alarm shrieks me back to life. Filled with resentment, I force myself through a makeup routine, pin up my hair, and transfer my takeout into a chic bento box. Then, I head back to the office to play the role of the doting wife bringing her husband lunch. He’s on a video call, his brow furrowed as he listens to a report from the European division. When he sees me, he gestures for me to come over and pulls me onto his lap. “What took you so long?” he murmurs into my neck, a hint of a pout in his voice. “I thought you weren’t coming today.” The formal presentation is still playing from his laptop speakers. Even though his camera and mic are off, my face flushes with heat. I try to push him away gently. “You’re still in a meeting. Stop it.” “What’s there to be afraid of? We’re married. It’s not like we’re doing anything wrong.” “Isn’t it… unprofessional?” I shoot back. He freezes, then his expression darkens. “Did your sister complain to you again?” “She’s just a young woman, Grant. Being yelled at like that in front of everyone… it must have been humiliating. Could you please try to be nicer to her?” Grant goes quiet. After a long moment, he kisses the corner of my mouth. “I know you have a good heart, darling, but don’t you see? She’s trying to be you.” “What?” He unmutes his mic, tells his team to postpone the meeting until the afternoon, then turns back to me. “Even for twins, it’s impossible to have the exact same mannerisms, the same tastes. You love pearls, so she wears pearl earrings every day. You have a bubbly personality, so she practically skips into the office. The way your voice lilts up at the end of a sentence… she does that too. It’s a deliberate, calculated act.” “So you’re saying…” “She’s imitating you to seduce me,” Grant says, his voice laced with conviction. “I’ve seen women like her a thousand times. They use your trust as a weapon to try and steal what’s yours. You’re just too kind to see it. She’s always been jealous of you, and your parents always took her side. You have to be careful, darling.” As he speaks, his fingers trace lazy circles on my waist, his tone that of a worldly husband schooling his naive, sheltered wife. I feel like I’ve been struck by lightning. “Are you sure you’re not mistaken?” I manage a weak smile. “June isn’t like that.” “I knew you’d say that,” he sighs, his disappointment palpable. “Baby, I’m the one closest to you. Why do you trust her over me?” I can only force a laugh. I have no words. Thankfully, he drops the subject, giving me a tender kiss before we start eating, with me still perched on his lap. As I leave, he pulls me in for a long, passionate goodbye kiss. I’m barely out of the Apex Global tower, wiping the sticky residue of his lips from mine, when my phone rings. It’s him. The moment I answer, he unleashes a torrent of abuse. “Are you a child? You get scolded and you have to run and tattle to your sister? And what the hell is this quarterly report? It’s riddled with errors! If you can’t do the job, then get out! You’re useless!” For a split second, my face contorts into a mask of pure rage. Then, another call comes through. Fuming, I snap, “I said I’m on my way back, stop calling—” “June.” The voice is soft and familiar. “It’s me. I’m back.” 4 My relationship with my sister is… complicated. We’re twins, but we didn’t grow up together. I was with our parents in the city while they built their business; she was left with our grandparents in a sleepy coastal town. They’ve carried a crushing guilt over it ever since. When they finally brought her to the city, they showered her with affection and demanded I give in to her every whim. Any conflict was met with the same refrain: “You stole the love that should have been hers! You owe her this!” Later, when Seraphina failed to get into a good high school, they shipped her off to a boarding school abroad. I stayed home. We were practically strangers. So, hearing her speak to me with such warm familiarity now feels… wrong. “What do you want?” I ask bluntly. “Mom told me about the situation… with you and Grant.” Realizing her sweet act isn’t working, she cuts to the chase. “Now that I’m back, don’t you think it’s time you returned the title of Mrs. Covington to its rightful owner?” “So you’re back to reclaim your throne? What happened, did the rocker dump you?” “Don’t push it, June!” she hisses, her voice dropping. “And don’t you forget, the only Mrs. Covington the world knows is Seraphina Shaw. You’re just an imposter. Who are you to act so high and mighty?” She has a point. The daughter the Shaws married off, the wife Grant introduced to the world… that was always Seraphina. Sometimes, when Grant was in the mood, he’d whisper her name in my ear, calling me “Sera” or “my sweet Seraphina.” It made my skin crawl. “But I didn’t clean up your mess for free,” I retort. “What does that mean?” “A million dollars. Or we can go have a little chat with Grant and see who he thinks the real Mrs. Covington is.” I say it with a saccharine smile. “A million dollars for the Covington fortune. It’s a bargain, my dear sister.” Because of their guilt, my parents cut me off financially the moment I turned eighteen, funneling all their resources to her. While I was working three jobs to pay for college, she was living it up in Europe. I’m owed a little compensation for my suffering. But as much as they doted on her, they wouldn’t have given her their entire fortune. A million would hurt her. Badly. She hesitates for a long time. “You’re sure? You take the money and you disappear?” “If you don’t trust me, I could just go see…” “Don’t! I’ll give it to you!” she blurts out, her decision made. “But you have to promise you will never, ever show your face in front of Grant again.” I agree instantly. Hanging up, my mood lifts considerably. I wipe off every trace of makeup, change into a simple blouse and skirt, and admire myself in the mirror. I think about Grant’s accusation—that I was imitating her to seduce him—and let out a short, bitter laugh. It’s absurd, but I don’t want any more trouble. I swap my pearl studs for a pair of sapphire ones and pull a long trench coat from the closet, hiding my curves completely before heading back to the office. 5 Seraphina wanted me to quit and move to another city. Not a chance. This was my first real job, one I’d earned after five grueling rounds of interviews. Leaving after only six months would look terrible on my resume. After she failed to persuade me, she resigned herself to just taking my dedicated “wife” phone. She spent a few days at our parents’ house, grilling me for every last detail about my life with Grant, all of which I shared honestly. With my nights finally free, I’ve been sleeping like a baby. I feel human again, greeting my colleagues with a cheerful smile and even buying a round of coffee for the team. When I run into Grant in the elevator, I can even muster a bright, “Good morning, sir!” He, on the other hand, looks like hell. His face is pale and drawn, a sickly white. He never looked this bad, not even after the all-nighters we used to pull. “Sir?” I ask, a flicker of concern rising. “Are you feeling alright?” He doesn’t look at me, his voice a flat line. “None of your business.” “…Right.” I have a productive morning, and I’m just starting to think about lunch when I see Seraphina gliding into the office, carrying an insulated lunch box. She’s fully embraced the gentle, doting wife persona I created, dressed in a pink Chanel suit with a silver butterfly clip in her hair. Her smile is perfectly serene. I watch as she disappears into Grant’s office. It’s been a week since she moved back in. They’ve definitely slept together by now… and even though I never loved Grant, the thought of Seraphina having what was mine makes me feel like I’ve swallowed a bug. I press my fingers to my temples. Just as I’m about to head out, Grant’s line buzzes. “Bring in two coffees.” Grant has a sweet tooth but loves the rich aroma of coffee, so the ratio of sugar to cream is very specific. I prepare them just the way he likes and carry them into his office. Seraphina’s syrupy voice fills the air. “Darling, you have to eat. I made all your favorites.” She sees me and falters for a moment, her composure slipping before she plasters on a smile. “June, what are you doing in here? My husband and I are having lunch.” “Just dropping off the coffee,” I say, wanting to avoid a scene. Grant is still at his desk, so I place one cup there and bring the other to Seraphina on the sofa. She reaches for it, a sly smile touching her lips just as my fingers let go. Then she deliberately tips the cup, sending the scalding liquid cascading over my forearm. The skin instantly turns an angry red, blistering before my eyes. “Oh, June, are you okay?” she cries, her face a mask of frantic concern. “You were so clumsy! Oh, I hope it doesn’t scar.” She looks like she’s about to burst into tears. Grant rushes over, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “It’s alright, it wasn’t your fault… Let’s get you to a hospital,” he says to me. “I’ll cover the medical bills.” “Oh, darling, you’re the best,” Seraphina coos, melting into his embrace. “I feel so terrible. If June scars because of me, I’ll never forgive myself.” Hidden in the safety of his arms, she shoots me a triumphant, mocking smirk. The same one she used a thousand times as a child to manipulate our parents. I just smile back. I leave the office, quickly treat the burn in the breakroom, and then wait by the elevators. When Seraphina emerges, beaming, I beckon her over with a crooked finger. I grab her arm, and without a word, I slap her hard across her perfectly powdered face. “You—” CRACK. The other cheek gets the same treatment. Her face is already swelling, her expression a mixture of shock and fury. “How—how dare you—” “I played along for Grant’s benefit, but I’m not about to take that kind of abuse for free.” I cross my arms, smiling sweetly. “Add another two hundred thousand to the tab. Have it in my account by tonight. And from now on, keep me out of your twisted little games. You really don’t want to piss me off.” Seraphina clutches her face, her eyes burning with a hatred she can’t voice. She knows pushing me too far has consequences. She remembers the pool, three years ago. The feeling of my hands on her head, holding her under the water, the burning in her lungs as she fought for air… If a maid hadn’t screamed, she would have died. My parents may adore her, but I’m their daughter too. She’d never go to the police. She’d just have to swallow it. “Just quit, June,” she says, taking a deep breath. “The world is a big place. Why are you so obsessed with your sister’s husband?” “If you can’t stand the sight of me, then get away from me. Leave the city. Disappear. Wouldn’t that be better for everyone?” It clicks into place instantly. “You’ve been whispering in Grant’s ear.” She just gives me that same challenging smile. I take a deep, shaky breath, a vein throbbing in my forehead. The feeling of being played like this, of being so utterly manipulated—it makes me want to scream. I shove her, hard. And then I turn and storm back into Grant’s office.

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The half-smoked cigar in the ashtray still emitted tendrils of smoke. I don’t smoke. That’s for Richard, Olivia’s childhood friend who just returned from overseas. He enjoys a good cigar. Olivia emerged from the study, following my gaze to the ashtray. Her eyes flickered, and she quickly stubbed out the stub. “Richard was just here. His company ran into some trouble, so he came to iron out a contract.” I nodded, picking up the air freshener and spraying it around the room. “No need to explain. I just genuinely dislike the smell of smoke.” Richard was Olivia’s golden boy, her cherished “friend,” even in bankruptcy. And because of him, on my thirtieth birthday, I sat in that restaurant all night, feeling like a complete fool. Since that night, I’d extinguished every last spark of hope I had for Olivia. Olivia watched me expertly clean the ashtray, her brow furrowing deeper with each swipe. “Why aren’t you angry? You used to hate him coming over.” Why should I be angry? This used to be my home, yes, but now, it was nothing more than a place to sleep. 1 I didn’t answer Olivia’s question. She followed me into the living room, a puzzled look on her face. Her gaze scrutinized me. “What’s wrong with you?” I forced a smile. “Isn’t this the kind of relationship you always wanted?” Olivia was speechless for a moment, then rephrased her words. “Richard is in serious trouble. That contract is crucial for his comeback, that’s all. Why would you…” She didn’t finish her sentence. I already filled in the blanks in my mind. Why would I taint their friendship with such sordid thoughts? She seemed to realize her words were a bit harsh, her tone softening. “I haven’t done anything behind your back. He was in the study for work, nothing more.” “Beyond being friends, I’m his legal counsel, and he’s my client. It’s that simple.” I remained silent. Olivia’s composure faltered, revealing an unmistakable frustration. “James, what exactly do you want from me?” I looked up at Olivia. “I don’t want anything from you.” “And you don’t need to explain any of this to me.” Catching sight of a lighter on the table, I pointed to it. “Why don’t you take this back to him now? He might not be able to sleep tonight if he can’t have his usual smoke.” Olivia’s face fell completely. It wasn’t the first time Richard had shown up late at night. The first time, his creditors were trashing his company. It was midnight, and he showed up at our door, voice cracking with tears. Olivia, still in her nightgown, went back to the office with him and stayed all night. About a month later, I saw a brand-new photo frame on Olivia’s desk. Inside was a picture of her and Richard from middle school, both in school uniforms, looking young and awkward. Olivia casually explained, “Richard gave it to me. Said it was to thank me for helping him out that time.” She placed it prominently, as if it were a treasure. I suppressed the storm brewing in my chest. In the end, I said nothing. But within a few days, Richard was at our door again late at night. He said, as if it were the most natural thing, “Liv, I brought some late-night snacks. Join me for a drink, I’m so stressed out.” Olivia walked past me, taking the bag from his hand. Her voice was full of familiarity and concern. “Come in, quick. What’s happened now?” Richard gave her a wry smile. “Only you can help me.” He seemed to completely ignore my presence, walking straight into the dining room. I stood rooted to the spot. That was the first time Olivia and I had our most explosive fight. By the end, her eyes were red-rimmed as she looked at me. “James, not everyone is like you. Please don’t waste your energy on these pointless suspicions.” “Richard is different from you. He’s a man of ambition, and he’s really struggling right now.” The anger was still a hard knot in my chest. I stared blankly at Olivia. But Olivia turned away from me and walked into the study. Snapping out of my memories. Olivia’s gaze remained fixed on me, as if searching for some familiar emotion on my face. She was disappointed. My expression was completely unreadable. As I was about to head upstairs, Olivia’s voice drifted from behind me. “James, tomorrow is your thirty-first birthday.” “I ordered you a cake.” 2 If Olivia hadn’t mentioned it, I would have forgotten my birthday entirely. Ever since Richard returned, she’d missed every one of my birthdays, always with the same excuse. Can’t get away. Last year, for her birthday, I’d excitedly booked two tickets, hoping to spend a romantic getaway in Switzerland. I called Olivia’s phone, but it wasn’t her who answered. It was Richard. “James, Liv is in the middle of an urgent dispute for me. I’ll have her call you back when she’s free.” Hearing Richard’s voice, my mind went blank for a second. Olivia’s phone was always with her, and she hated anyone else answering it. In our first year of marriage, I once used her phone for an emergency. When she came back, she didn’t say anything, but her expression was anything but pleased. After that, I never touched her phone again. Yet, Richard could answer it so casually on her behalf. This incident led to another heated confrontation between Olivia and me. She thought I was being unreasonable. All those meticulously planned travel itineraries sat untouched in a drawer for a year. Pulling myself back to the present, I turned to her. “My birthday? I completely forgot.” Olivia’s expression froze, her face etched with disbelief. “You forgot your own birthday?” I didn’t answer her again. I went upstairs and into the guest room. Late that night, I was jolted awake by the insistent ringing of the phone downstairs. I vaguely heard Olivia speaking in hushed tones. Just as I reached the top of the stairs, I heard her changing shoes. “I’m on my way to the police station. Don’t worry, just talk to the officers calmly for now.” “It’ll be okay, I’m coming. Wait for me there.” “If it’s their fault, I won’t let them off easy.” By the end, Olivia’s voice had taken on a soothing quality. Richard was Olivia’s neighbor, growing up together. From kindergarten to elementary and middle school, they were always in the same class. Perhaps that was why she always helped him without reservation. Even at my in-laws’ house, Richard, an outsider, was a perpetually hot topic. Soon, Olivia’s voice carried up. “James, I have to go out.” “Right,” I said, a hint of sarcasm in my voice. “My regards to Richard.” “Richard? Were you listening to my call?” “Who else in this world could make you rush out in the middle of the night?” “…” Richard had called her away again. I slowly walked downstairs. Olivia was already in her coat, frantically searching for her car keys by the door. I glanced at her but said nothing. I bypassed her and went to the kitchen for a glass of water. She nervously ran a hand through her hair, explaining in a rapid rush of words. “James, it’s not what you think. Richard had too much to drink and got into a fight. I have to…” I turned my head, a smile playing on my lips. “I get it. No need for so many words.” “Go quickly. Don’t keep Richard waiting. And be quiet when you come back, don’t wake me.” Olivia looked like she wanted to say more, but couldn’t find the words. She grabbed her car keys and hurried out. After Olivia left, I sat in the living room for a long time. “James,” she called out, tired, after an unknown amount of time, “Is something wrong with our relationship? We should talk.” I smiled. “What do you want to talk about?” “About Richard?” Olivia fell silent. I sighed, my gaze unnervingly calm, as if I were looking at a stranger. “Olivia, I don’t feel there’s anything to discuss. Richard is your friend, and your most important client.” “It’s only natural for you to help him with his troubles. I won’t be upset about these things, and you don’t need to account for yourself to me every time.” “You don’t need to explain anything. I can understand, I can sympathize.” Olivia’s face instantly drained of color. These were the very words she had thrown at me during one of our countless arguments over Richard. Now, I returned them to her, word for word. She was about to speak again when her phone rang. It was Richard. Olivia glanced at me, a hint of hesitation in her eyes. Finally, right in front of me, she answered and put it on speaker. Richard’s drunken voice slurred from the other end. “Liv… Liv, I’m almost home, thank you. Ugh…” “Hey, kid! Don’t throw up in the car, hey…” It sounded disgusting. But Olivia’s expression wasn’t disgust; it was anxiety. “Richard, Richard, where are you? Are you home?” The call disconnected. Olivia looked down, lost in thought, before finally raising her head to look at me a few seconds later. She stared at me, at a loss for words. I spoke first. “You should have stayed out if it was going to be like this.” Olivia was silent for a long moment before she spoke. “Who cares about him? He’s just a child who will never grow up.” I curled my lips into a small smile. My conversation with Olivia ultimately went nowhere. She went back to the master bedroom, and I went back to the guest room, but I couldn’t sleep. About half an hour later, the door opened, and a car engine started again. The sound faded into the distance. She went to him after all. 3 Lying in bed, I suddenly felt like laughing. Olivia and I met on an architectural design project. I was the one who pursued her. We dated for three years, and as soon as the project ended, we got married. For the first two years of our marriage, Olivia and I were very happy. I won the prestigious Carpenter’s Award for that project and started my own studio. I became the most talked-about rising star in the industry. Olivia also started getting very busy. Daily meetings, frequent client consultations for various cases—I accepted it all. Even on my birthday, she only had her assistant send a gift. Despite a hint of dissatisfaction, I still texted back with a smile. Thanks, wife. Career comes first. I understood her struggles as a law firm partner. Worried about her erratic eating habits, I’d often drive to her office to pick her up for dinner when I had time. After a year of this, she suddenly said, “Don’t bother with me anymore. I can just order takeout myself. It’s too much of a hassle for you to drive back and forth.” Later, I found out that Olivia’s childhood friend, Richard, had returned to the country. When I asked about it, she said, “He had no choice. His partner screwed him over. I can’t just abandon him.” I agreed, not pressing the matter further. Until I noticed Richard frequently appearing in our lives. He was down on his luck, yet his conversation remained witty, and he was particularly adept at playing the victim. Olivia, who hated social gatherings, was surprisingly willing to accompany Richard to dinner and drinks with investor after investor. Our first rift appeared when he gave Olivia that old childhood photo. But Olivia thought I was overreacting. “Darling, he’s just an old friend. You don’t need to be so jealous.” And so, our disagreements grew. Our cold wars became more frequent. All because of Richard. We even discussed divorce, but ultimately, it never happened. Olivia disagreed. During that time, I was almost spiraling out of control, obsessively tracking her schedule. If she didn’t answer her phone, I’d become restless. She accompanied Richard out of town to meet with investors. I frantically messaged her, asking for updates. Until Richard used her number to text me back: “Liv is in a meeting, can’t pick up.” “James, I know you care about her, but you also need to understand her work.” “Could you please not bother her for today?” I couldn’t hold back and sent Richard many rude messages. Olivia finally called back, but it led to another furious argument. “James, why have you become like this?” “What will Richard think of those messages you sent? If my colleagues saw them, how could I face anyone at the firm? What would your friends say behind your back?” “You’re being unreasonable every day. Have you considered the consequences?” Olivia completely avoided mentioning her and Richard’s boundary-crossing behavior, only seeing my actions as irrational. The ICU door opened, and I was told my mother was gone. Looking at Olivia’s disconnected call, I burst into tears. Sadly, my mother never got to see her daughter-in-law one last time. Richard’s company reportedly secured crucial investment. He posted several messages on social media, expressing his gratitude to Olivia. After all, during the seven-day negotiation in the city, a tug-of-war between three investors, Olivia had been by his side the entire time, clearing all legal hurdles for him. I didn’t ask a single question. I worked when I needed to, and I rested when I could. I didn’t give Olivia even an extra glance. Several times, Olivia seemed about to speak, but didn’t know how to begin. In the evening, Olivia stopped me. She spoke to me with a hint of uncertainty. “For this financing negotiation, as lead legal counsel, I have to be involved every step of the way.” I paused. I thought Olivia was going to say something else, but it was just about this. I looked up, a polite smile on my face. “I understand. Don’t worry, I won’t disrupt your work. Is there anything else?” Olivia seemed to reach her breaking point, her voice trembling as she snarled, “James, have you caused enough trouble?” “Enough.” 4 After Olivia returned from her trip, she started to change. Aside from necessary collaborations, she stopped meeting Richard privately. She would voluntarily place her phone in front of me, reporting all her engagements. But I no longer cared. It was too late. Besides, I had already accepted a job offer in Singapore. I stopped paying attention to Olivia. With my mother gone, I had no more ties. Three days before my departure, Richard’s company held a grand press conference, announcing successful funding. It was live-streamed. When the camera focused on Olivia, as the lead counsel, she simply said, “I want to thank my loving partner for his years of support and understanding.” The media showered her with praise, applauding her ability to balance family and career. “You and Mr. Richard truly are a golden couple, a perfect match.” “No, you’re mistaken. My husband’s name is James, and he’s an architect! From now on, I’m giving up all social engagements to be a good wife and mother.” Richard’s smile faltered for a moment, but he still went along with the press conference. I turned off the live stream and continued packing my luggage. After the press conference, Olivia’s phone rang. As soon as I answered, I heard Richard’s excited voice on the other end. “Liv, you were amazing today! Your presence captivated everyone.” “Tonight, we’ve booked out the entire hotel to celebrate our future!” Olivia instinctively tried to muffle the phone, afraid I might hear. After a moment of hesitation, she nodded. Richard happily grasped her wrist. “Then it’s settled, Liv.” Olivia looked at her phone, only then realizing the call had already disconnected. When Olivia came home late that night, she found a file folder for her on the table. Inside was the signed divorce agreement. She threw the divorce agreement onto the table. “How much longer are you going to treat me like this?” she said. “I’ve changed so much. What more do you want from me?” Olivia looked at me. “Are you blaming me? I’m sorry, Mom was sick, and I didn’t visit her. Let’s go to the hospital to see her tomorrow.” I looked at Olivia with an icy gaze. “Shouldn’t I blame you?” The next day, I took Olivia to see my mother. All the way there, she kept texting on her phone; I knew it had to be Richard. It wasn’t until we arrived at the cemetery that she realized something was wrong. I led her to my mother’s grave. She froze, then knelt down and burst into tears. I dusted off my mother’s tombstone. “Mom, I’m going to Singapore. I won’t be able to visit you often anymore. Take care of yourself.” I handed Olivia the divorce agreement. “Sign it. This way, Mom won’t have to keep worrying about you, her daughter-in-law. Let’s not argue in front of Mom.” “No, James. Give me another chance. I won’t disappoint Mom.” “I’ll cut all ties with Richard right now and come with you to Singapore. We can start fresh there.” Just then, Olivia’s phone rang. It was Richard calling.

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Lord Ashton Hall, the heir to the Capital Circle, heard me mention male escorts on the day of our divorce? Ashton Hall looked at the papers on the table, his hand, which usually fingered prayer beads, paused. I lowered my gaze demurely, my voice choked: “His sister is back, I don’t want you to be in a difficult position, Mr. Hall. Let’s part ways amicably.” Inside, I was ecstatic: [Sign it! A billion! Male escorts! Jerry’s abs!] The next second, the string of prayer beads in Ashton’s hand suddenly snapped, scattering the beads across the floor. He sharply looked up, his eyes bloodshot, fixated on me. “Monica Hall, you want to use my money to feel whose abs?” I silently scoffed inwardly: [How did this bastard know I wanted to feel abs? Is he bluffing?] Outwardly, I cried even harder: “No one… I only have you…” 1 “How can you accuse me?” I wiped away tears, reaching for his sleeve, my fingertips trembling, playing the part of utter helplessness. Inside, I cursed: [What a big show-off!] [We’re getting a divorce, why does it matter whose abs I touch?] [Forget Jerry, once the money’s in my account, I’ll book Tom and Jack too!] [Every night, they’ll take turns giving me a striptease!] Ashton’s mouth twitched violently, his expression grim. He flung my hand away, and I nearly crashed into the coffee table. “Fine, very well,” he gnashed, his voice cold and cutting. “Tom? Jack? Monica, your appetite isn’t small.” My heart skipped a beat: [What the hell? How does he know about Tom and Jack?] [Has my club membership been exposed?] [No way, I used my mom’s ID for that!] Panic flared inside. But I firmly believed that as long as I didn’t admit it, he had no proof. I looked up, my swollen eyes bewildered and wronged. “Ashton, what are you talking about? What Tom? Is that his sister’s cat?” Ashton took a deep breath, closing his eyes briefly. When he opened them again, those eyes blazed with consuming fire. He picked up the divorce papers and shredded them. Confetti of paper rained down. I froze. [My billion! My happy place!] [Ashton Hall, you son of a bitch! If you’re not signing, why tear the paper? Printing costs money!] Ashton strode forward, grabbing my chin and forcing me to look up at him. His thumb was rough, calloused from years of fingering prayer beads, and it chafed painfully against my skin. “You want to take the money and leave? To go hire male escorts?” He leaned in close, his hot breath fanning my face, possessive and aggressive. “Monica, you can forget about that for the rest of your life.” With that, he pulled out his phone, dialed his assistant, his voice chilling. “Cancel all supplementary cards under Monica’s name, including her mother’s.” “Also, find out all the ‘Jerrys,’ ‘Toms,’ and ‘Jacks’ in every club in Eastlake City, and blacklist them all.” Me: “…” [Ashton Hall! Damn you to hell!] The call ended. My heart bled. The money was gone. The escorts were gone too. Sorrow welled up in my heart. This time, I genuinely cried. Cried with heartfelt sincerity. “Ashton Hall, you can’t do this to me! I’ve already stepped aside, why do you still humiliate me?” I collapsed to the floor, weeping tragically. Inside, I cursed viciously: [May you never get it up! May you be cuckolded! May you clog the toilet when you poop!] Ashton’s face darkened, veins throbbing at his temples. He suddenly bent down, sweeping me up from the floor. He strode upstairs. The world spun. I screamed in terror: “What are you doing! Put me down!” Ashton kicked open the bedroom door, roughly tossing me onto the large bed. Before I could scramble up, his tall frame pressed down on me, and with one hand, he untied his tie, binding my wrists above my head. Those eyes, usually cold and ascetic, were now tinged with intense desire and ruthlessness. “Cursing me to never get it up?” He sneered. His knee forcefully pushed my legs apart: “Monica, tonight I’ll show you who’s truly ‘incapable.’” “As for that Jerry, he’d better pray I don’t find him.” “Otherwise, I’ll let him know what ‘truly exquisite touch’ feels like.” 2 I closed my eyes, bracing for the storm. However, just as his kiss was about to descend, the phone on the bedside table suddenly rang. The ringtone was shrill, a death knell and a lifeline at once. Ashton froze, his brows tightly furrowed. The desire in his eyes hadn’t faded, tinged with annoyance. I seized the chance to slip out from under him, wrapping myself in the duvet and shrinking into the corner of the bed, my face terrified. [Answer it! Pick it up!] [A late-night call, who else could it be but that pure-hearted Lily White, Clara Reed?] [Thank you, Clara Reed! Thank you, Telecom Company! Thank you, heavens!] [As long as he leaves now, I’m willing to kowtow to Clara Reed three times!] Ashton’s hand, holding the phone, stiffened. He gave me a deep, unreadable look. But he answered the call anyway. “Ashton… I’m so scared… there’s thunder, can you please come see me?” The voice on the other end was soft and sweet, trembling, clearly audible in the dead of night. It was her, indeed. I immediately put on my understanding, magnanimous, and virtuous wife face, sniffing but my voice still tearful. “Is that his sister? She just returned to the country, she must not be used to it. You should go be with her, don’t worry about me…” Inside: [Go! Go now! Preferably to her bed and don’t come back! I want this huge king-sized bed all to myself!] Ashton sneered. He ignored Clara on the other end and hung up the phone directly. “You’re quite generous,” he threw the phone back onto the bedside table, making me flinch. “Since you want me to go so badly, I absolutely won’t.” He slowly unbuttoned his shirt, stripped naked in front of me, lifted the duvet, and climbed into bed. He reached out, pulling me into his embrace. “Sleep.” Me: “…” [You’re insane! Your ‘pure love’ is calling, go to her!] [What are you doing here? If you don’t leave, how can I hire escorts!] That night, I spent it tightly held in Ashton’s embrace. The next day, I was woken by commotion downstairs. Going down, the living room was piled high with expensive luggage, as if someone was moving in. Clara Reed, wearing a hospital gown and looking as if she might faint at any moment, was sitting on the sofa, wiping away tears. Seeing Ashton and me descend, she immediately stood up, swaying slightly. “Ashton, I’m so sorry… I was just too scared last night, so I had to bother you two.” Her eyes were red, and she looked at me pitifully: “Monica, you don’t mind, do you? I’m not well, and Ashton doesn’t feel comfortable leaving me alone outside.” I sneered inwardly: [Mind? Like hell I mind!] [You moving in will not only share Ashton’s perverse intensity, but you might even push me out, then I can legitimately split the assets!] [Quick! Quick, say you want the master bedroom! Steal that bastard Ashton!] I immediately forced a smile even weaker than hers, walked over, and took her hand. “How could I, sister? This was always… your home. Ashton and I treat you like a real sister.” Ashton, in the middle of fastening his cufflinks, paused and looked up at me, his gaze chilling. Clara was clearly surprised by my easygoingness, she froze for a moment, then smugly looked at Ashton. “Ashton, Monica is so understanding.” Ashton said nothing, walking directly to the dining room: “Let’s eat first.” At the dining table, the atmosphere was strange. Clara naturally sat to Ashton’s left—that was originally my seat. I didn’t care at all, cheerfully taking the seat opposite. A maid served breakfast: plain congee and side dishes. Clara took a sip of the congee, then suddenly frowned, clutching her chest and gagging. “What’s wrong?” Ashton asked blandly. “Nothing, it’s just this congee tastes a bit fishy.” Clara leaned weakly towards Ashton: “Ashton, you know, I’m used to Western food from abroad. This kind of Chinese… my stomach isn’t feeling well.” I rolled my eyes inwardly: [Fishy? How could seafood congee not be fishy?] [Who are you putting on an act for? Your stomach isn’t upset, your brain is bubbling.] [If you don’t like it, don’t eat it. Better to starve to death than waste food.] Ashton’s hand, holding the spoon, trembled. He suddenly picked up a spoonful of cilantro, which Clara hated, and placed it in my bowl. “If you don’t like it, don’t force it,” he said to Clara, then turned to me, his tone significant: “Monica isn’t picky. Eat more.” I looked at the pile of green cilantro, my face grim. I nodded tearfully: “Thank you, darling. I love cilantro.” Then, with a look of resignation, I shoved the wad of cilantro into my mouth, swallowing it without even chewing. Inside, I was furious: [Ashton Hall! Damn you!] [You just wait, next time I’ll add something extra to your bowl too!] [I’ll spit in your coffee! Make you drink it like an idiot!] Ashton’s hand, reaching for his coffee, paused mid-air. He looked at the coffee cup, then at my seemingly obedient face. He placed the cup on the table, coffee splashing out. “What’s wrong, Ashton?” Clara jumped. Ashton’s face was livid. He poured the expensive Blue Mountain coffee directly into the nearby trash can. “Not drinking it.” He stood up, looking down at me. His voice squeezed through gritted teeth: “It’s disgusting.” I blinked innocently: [This is enough to be disgusted? He must hate Clara’s perfume. That smell is deadly.] Clara’s face fell, she bit her lip. She seemed utterly wronged: “Ashton, did I do something wrong?” Ashton ignored her, simply dropping a cold remark: “There’s a party tonight. You both come.” With that, he strode away. I wanted to slip away too. Just as I stood up, Clara called me. She dropped her pretense of fragility, her eyes contemptuous, scanning me up and down. “Monica Hall, do you know the caliber of tonight’s party?” She walked over, reaching out to adjust my collar, a familiar gesture. Her voice oozed superiority: “That’s a top-tier event in the Capital Circle, attended by old money families. You, a country bumpkin who’s never even touched a piano, will only embarrass Ashton if you go.” Me: “…” [Oh? Can’t keep up the act anymore?] Clara leaned close to my ear, whispering viciously: “If you know what’s good for you, give up the position of Mrs. Hall.” “Otherwise, tonight I’ll make you lose face in front of all the city’s elites.” I looked at her twisted face and smiled. “Sister is right,” I stepped back, bowing respectfully, “I truly don’t understand anything. I’ll have to rely on sister to look after me tonight.” Inside: [Excellent! Hurry up and make me lose face! The more, the better!] [Hopefully, Ashton will be so embarrassed he’ll divorce me on the spot tonight!] [You said it. If you don’t mess up my divorce plan tonight, you’re a loser!] Clara smiled, satisfied, thinking she had intimidated me. But she didn’t see Ashton, who had already reached the door, suddenly stop. He looked back, his gaze falling on Clara’s smug face. Then he swept his eyes over my demure expression, a cruel curve playing on his lips. “Want a divorce?” he murmured, so softly only the air could hear. “Dream on.” 3 A top-tier private club in the Capital. The lighting was ambient, seductive. Clara, in a designer gown, held a wine glass, intimately walking beside Ashton. I followed demurely behind, playing the part of the long-suffering, overshadowed wife. A group of bejeweled socialites gathered around. Clara smiled gracefully, proactively taking my hand and introducing me to everyone. “This is Monica,” she emphasized, “Though she grew up in the countryside and hasn’t seen much of the world.” “But she’s extremely talented, skilled in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting.” A ripple of suppressed laughter spread through the crowd. The socialites whispered, their gazes brazenly scrutinizing me, filled with disdain. Clara then pointed to a vintage harp nearby. Her smile was radiant: “Monica, why don’t you play a tune for everyone to liven things up?” I immediately recoiled, waving my hands frantically. My eyes instantly reddened. “Sister, I really can’t… I’ve never learned the harp,” my voice trembled, fully embodying the self-conscious, timid country girl. Inside, however, I was on fire: [Play what, you idiot!] [I used to be a star DJ at ‘The Nightclub,’ my hand speed was so fast I could spark!] [Even the boss had to light my cigarette!] [What’s a harp? I refuse to play!] [Hurry up and make fun of me! The more the whole room laughs, the better!] [Make Ashton feel like I’ve utterly shamed him, and tonight he’ll sign the divorce papers!] Ashton was holding a wine glass, exchanging pleasantries with someone. Hearing my inner thoughts, his wrist suddenly stiffened. He turned, his gaze fixed on my intertwined hands, which looked tense and helpless. Seeing me motionless, Clara relentlessly walked over, grabbing my arm and dragging me towards the harp. “Monica, don’t be shy,” her grip was incredibly strong, her nails almost digging into my flesh. “Even a simple tune is a gesture. Ashton wants to hear it too.” I stumbled, tears almost falling. [Pinching me? You old manipulative witch, you dare pinch me?] [When I get my billion, I’ll hire ten burly women to dance in front of your house every day, deafening you!] Ashton strode forward. He grabbed Clara’s wrist, ruthlessly pulling it away. Clara gasped in pain, her smile freezing. Ashton directly pulled me back behind him, his actions forceful. He coldly scanned the room, his gaze finally settling on Clara’s pale face. “She’s not playing,” his low voice boomed through the noisy hall. Silence instantly descended. “My wife, Mrs. Hall, has delicate hands,” he took out a handkerchief, wiped his hand, and tossed it into a trash can. “Only suitable for counting money, not for playing music to entertain others.” Everyone fell silent. A few socialites who had laughed earlier turned pale. I, hiding behind Ashton, was completely stunned. [What’s gotten into this bastard? He actually stood up for me?] [No, he must be afraid I’d play terribly and embarrass him! Yes, that must be it!] [Capitalists care most about their reputation!] Ashton’s erect back stiffened. He sharply turned to glare at me, his eyes threatening to devour me. I quickly lowered my head, continuing to play the part of a timid quail. Just then, a waiter passed by with a tray, on which lay an intricately carved pure silver cufflink. This cufflink was a distinctive mark of Ashton’s family, rumored to be hand-polished by the top craftsmen of the Hall family, symbolizing the family’s honor and legacy. Only direct core members were allowed to wear it. Clara’s eyes lit up, and she looked at Ashton with tenderness. “Ashton, this cufflink is so beautiful,” her voice was very soft, full of implication. Ashton’s face was expressionless. He picked up the cufflink directly. “You like it?” he asked. Clara shyly lowered her head, extending her hands, ready to receive it. “Thank you, Ashton…” Her words were cut short. Ashton walked directly past her, picked up the cufflink, and tossed it into my lap. The force of it made my chest ache. “Play with it,” Ashton looked down at me, his eyes ruthless. “If it’s not enough, I’ll have someone make you more when we get back.” He leaned close to my ear, his voice barely a whisper. “Don’t spend all your time thinking about those worthless trinkets.” Clara’s hand froze in mid-air. She stared disbelievingly at the cufflink in my lap, her face pale, her lips trembling slightly. All eyes in the room were fixed on me. I clutched the heavy cufflink, my mind a blank. [It’s not for her? It’s for me?] [If we divorce, can this thing be considered my personal property? How much could it sell for?] I hadn’t even had time to mentally appraise it. Clara’s finger trembled, and her goblet tilted. More than half a glass of dark red wine splashed onto my gown, flowing down my collarbone and deep into my neckline.

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After the divorce, with my legs broken and eyes blinded, I changed my identity, vanished without a trace, and opened a dessert shop in the South. I saw Sebastian Evans again five years later. A runner, here to pick up an order, told me, “For all these years, Mr. Evans hasn’t had a single woman by his side. He’s been waiting for you.” The words had barely left his lips when Sebastian walked in. The man was in a black suit, four bodyguards trailing behind him, his entrance silencing the entire street. I felt him standing at the counter, watching me for a long time, his gaze so heavy it chilled my heart. But in the end, he simply uttered coldly: “Willow Hayes, long time no see.” “Mmh, long time no see.” I fumbled, wiping the counter, my face devoid of emotion. I remembered five years ago, it was only because his adopted sister, Clara, claimed I had drugged her drink, leading to her assault. Sebastian flew into a rage. He had my kneecaps shattered on the spot. Then he took screenshots from the intimate videos we’d made and scattered them across the entire clubhouse. “Personally tested, soft-bodied, seductive voice, knows how to please. Free delivery.” His subordinates tried to reason with him: “Willow is about to be your lawfully wedded wife, Mr. Evans. Why would you destroy her?” Sebastian, however, kicked over the incense table. “She dared to touch Clara; she should know the consequences.” “I only wanted to scare her. I didn’t actually send her out. Let her taste what it’s like to be humiliated.” I leaned against the doorframe, standing in the shadows, my vision black, yet I could feel his icy gaze. He showed no remorse, gripping my chin and saying, “This time you crossed a line. Your suffering is your own doing.” “As long as you go kowtow to Clara, admit your mistakes, and atone for the pain she suffered, I’ll still make you Mrs. Evans.” I swallowed the metallic taste of blood in my throat, picked up the photos one by one, and tore them to shreds in front of everyone. The next second, a whistle sounded from outside the clubhouse. “I’ll take this dame.” Sebastian suddenly smashed the teacup in his hand. His subordinates immediately fell silent. Someone quietly advised, “Sir, maybe just let it go. It wouldn’t sound good spreading around…” Sebastian turned to me. “Willow Hayes, what do you say? Will you admit your mistake?” I lowered my eyes, then turned and felt my way towards the back room. Behind me, I heard his ice-cold sneer: “Your… friend here has no objections, why are you all so anxious? Since the gentleman doesn’t mind her being ‘soiled,’ I must fulfill his request.” I slowly walked out. Many people in the corridor pointed and whispered about me. My hands and feet were numb with cold. A drunken thug suddenly lunged, wrapping his arm around my waist, spewing obscenities. “Heard you specialize in serving the sick? Coincidentally, I just got out of the hospital, full of filthy diseases…” I screamed, struggling, but passersby disgustedly moved away. Whispers drifted faintly: “That’s her, right? The one Mr. Evans discarded. So dirty.” “Serves her right. She put those photos out herself, and now has the nerve to cry for help.” I trembled all over, hissing, “My man is Sebastian Evans! How dare you touch me—” “Got a man but still hooking up outside? Those videos of yours are everywhere. What kind of lowlife would want you?” “Call your man out then. If he really comes, I’ll let go.” Before the words fully left his mouth, the door to the private room at the end of the hall opened. Sebastian emerged with his men. Hearing his footsteps, my tears instantly flowed. “Sebastian! Save me!” But he didn’t even glance at me. He just smiled at the drunkard. “Brother, she likes this kind of attention. She specifically picks those with… conditions.” Then he walked straight past. The drunkard roared with laughter. “Mr. Evans doesn’t even want you, why are you still putting on an act?!” I don’t know how much time passed, but suddenly a large amount of blood gushed from below me. The man, startled, let go and ran off, cursing. I stumbled to my feet and went to the nearest clinic. The baby was gone. I had planned to tell Sebastian I was pregnant on our third anniversary. But now, all that remained were blurry blood clots in a sterile tray. The doctor on duty looked at me, her expression full of unspoken words. “Miss Hayes, Mr. Evans sent word… he demands you never touch perfumery again. Your studio has also been trashed. And apparently… you owe him five million dollars.” I closed my eyes, the taste of rust rising in my throat. The doctor’s eyes reddened. “How could Mr. Evans become like this… Years ago, he almost had a shootout with a rival gang to protect your perfumery studio; the last time someone caused you trouble, he risked his life, rushing in alone to carry you out.” “He clearly loved you so much, how could he now, for an adopted sister, cripple your perfuming hands and ruin the rest of your life?” Yes, why? I shook my head, unable to speak. When I first met Sebastian, I didn’t know he had an adopted sister. He was injured during a brawl at the docks, a knife piercing his lung, just half an inch from his life. I nursed him for three days and nights in my family’s apothecary, using an ancestral recipe to pull him back from death’s door. The day after he woke, he sent his men to summon me. Bandages wrapped around half his body, he smiled hoarsely at me. “Miss Hayes, for saving my life, my life is yours from now on.” I took it as mere courtesy from a man of the underworld. But he truly pursued me for a whole year, deflecting countless troubles from my small apothecary. Knowing I often stayed up late perfuming, he would always wait at my shop door with hot soup whenever he returned. It was hard not to be moved, yet I dared not be. Until three years ago, a rival sent assassins into my perfumery studio. Sebastian completely shielded me with his body, taking a knife in his back and another in his arm. The day he had his stitches removed, I said yes to him. For these three years, everything had been perfect. Until he was absent on the day we were to get our marriage license. Three days later, he appeared with Clara, only vaguely saying he’d forgotten. Sebastian asked me to take good care of Clara. I did my best. Three days ago, Clara came to me, complaining of a rash. She begged me not to tell her brother. I assumed it was an allergy and took her to our family’s trusted old doctor, who prescribed an external ointment. But when I saw the medical notes, I froze—they stated an STD. Before I could figure out how to tell her, Sebastian burst in with his men, shielding a red-eyed Clara. With a single command, my kneecaps were shattered with an iron bar. I curled up on the ground in pain, asking him why. He looked at me coldly. “I thought you were different from those other women. I never imagined you were so malicious.” “Just because I missed getting our license, you gave Clara tainted medication, making her contract that disease?” “She’s only twenty!” “You don’t deserve to touch perfumery. Crippling your legs is a lesson.” Clara suddenly burst into tears, pointing at the medical notes on my table. “Willow, you planned this all along! You hurt me and then falsified medical records!” “Do you hate me that much? Then I’d rather die!” “Have you already spread these medical records? What’s the point of me living anymore!” She lunged towards the corner of the table, but Sebastian caught her in his arms. He looked at me, his eyes icy. “Willow Hayes, you’d force my sister to her death just for a piece of paper?” “Publicly apologize. Admit that you deliberately harmed her out of personal resentment and falsified medical records.” Tears in my eyes, I shook my head. “Sebastian, this will ruin the Hayes family’s centuries-old reputation!” “I didn’t do it. I will never admit to it.” But no matter how I defended myself, how I begged him to have the ointment tested, he only signaled his men to hold my head, and under the gaze of all the clubhouse members, made me kowtow a hundred times to Clara. Blood dripped onto the floor. Onlookers raised their phones. I finally couldn’t bear it anymore and passed out. When I woke, I received a message from his confidant, telling me to find Sebastian at the casino to explain everything clearly. Clutching the last shred of hope for Sebastian, I made my way there. But I heard with my own ears that he intended to give me away to someone else. The doctor, seeing my painful expression, said no more and handed me a course of post-exposure prophylaxis. “Take these on time. Come back for a check-up in a month.” I thanked her softly and dazedly made my way back to my place. My phone lit up with a message, accompanied by a boat ticket. “Willow, don’t be afraid. Brother is coming to pick you up. No matter the cost, Brother will cure you.” Tears streamed down, and I cried myself to sleep. Half-awake, half-asleep, my injured knee was forcefully pressed. The intense pain made me scream and jolt upright. “Don’t touch me—!” “Willow, it’s me.” In the dim light, I heard his voice. It was Sebastian. He carried the scent of sandalwood from a recent shower, the exact same fragrance Clara habitually used. My body instantly stiffened. He hugged me indifferently, saying, “So I left you with that thug and didn’t care? Do you really have to make such a fuss with me, not letting me touch you?” “Who in the underworld doesn’t know you’re mine? With me around, who would dare truly harm you in the slightest? See, everything’s fine now.” I couldn’t stop trembling, tears rolling down my cheeks. He frowned, seemingly finding my reaction overly dramatic. “Willow, you’re a Hayes lady, a perfumer. Is your spirit really so fragile?” He picked up the box of medicine from the bedside table, his tone softening slightly. “Do your knees still hurt? I specially had Black Jade Ointment brought from the South Seas. With this, combined with physical therapy, you’ll be well soon, it won’t affect your walking or perfuming later.” “Stop making a fuss. Tomorrow morning, go and apologize to Clara in person. Then this matter will be over.” The fragile calm I had maintained finally shattered. I raised my tear-filled eyes to him. “Sebastian, let’s get a divorce.” No sooner had I spoken than he looked down at his phone, a smile playing on his lips. He abruptly looked up at me. “What did you just say?” Without waiting for me to repeat myself, he impatiently waved his hand. “I just landed a big deal. If you want to buy anything, just charge it to the account. Consider it my compensation.” “Clara said she wants to help you pick out your wedding dress. You’re coming with me to the bridal shop now to try on dresses for Clara to see.” He half-threatened, half-coaxed, pressing gently on my injured knee. “This time, cooperate with her properly. Let her blow off some steam. Understand?” “If anything goes wrong again, I really will send you to that buyer, you know.” He completely ignored my reaction, forcefully taking me to the bridal shop. I silently followed. The jade pendant my mother had left me, I had always kept at the bridal shop, intending to wear it at the wedding. Now, it seemed unnecessary. In the bridal shop, Clara was already waiting, still obedient and timid. Though I couldn’t see, I could hear her delicate voice: “Chloe… please don’t be like this. I’m scared.” “Willow!” Sebastian warned, squeezing my wrist, then pressed lightly on my injured knee. I paled with pain, gritting my teeth to squeeze out, “No.” Clara then smiled and said, “Willow, let’s go look at the dresses.” The assistant brought out the wedding dress Sebastian had specifically customized for me. Clara’s voice brightened. She nestled against Sebastian and whispered, “Brother, can I try it on? Just for a moment…” Her voice suddenly choked. “I’m already… not clean. I might never wear my own wedding dress in this life… Just to fulfill a dream, okay?” Sebastian’s voice was gentle. “Okay.” He turned to me, the pressure in his tone implicit. I closed my eyes, nodding. “Thank you, Brother!” Clara chirped excitedly, then exclaimed, “This jade pendant… it’s so beautiful. Brother, can I have it? I want it as a keepsake.” I gasped, lunging forward, trying to retrieve the pendant. “No! This can’t—” “Give it to her.” Sebastian’s hand was already in front of me. My heart felt struck by a heavy hammer. I clutched the jade pendant. “Sebastian, this is my mother’s only memento…” “So what?” He unceremoniously pried my fingers open. “Don’t forget, you already owe Clara. This jade pendant will serve as compensation.” “No! You can punish me however you want… but not this!” I desperately tried to snatch it back. Just as my hand was about to touch the jade pendant, Clara suddenly shrieked and recoiled! “Willow, why did you push me!” “Clara!” Sebastian shoved me aside, striding forward to catch Clara. My feet found no purchase, and I tumbled down the stairs. My bones felt dislocated, the pain so intense that my vision blurred to black. A metallic sweetness surged into my throat, and I coughed up dark blood.

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The day before our engagement party, Bella, my heiress girlfriend, seemed distant as we walked through the city. I bought a cheap sandwich and offered it to her, but she slapped it to the ground. “Cole!” she snapped. “The Lancasters need someone who fits in. This is embarrassing. How can my parents ever accept you?” Humiliated, I tossed the ruined sandwich away. For the sake of our four years together, I just said, “Whatever you say.” The next day, she called off our engagement to marry Spencer Croft. “Cole, Spencer tried to die for me,” she claimed tearfully. “Once he’s stable, I’ll come back to you.” Again, I only replied, “Whatever you say,” and ended it. Four years later, she appeared at my small house, wearing the ring I’d given her. “Cole, Spencer finally agreed to divorce! We can be together now!” she announced, beaming. “I told you I’d return once he let go of his obsession!” I frowned, annoyed by her performance. Of all days to run into her here. Pushing her toward the door, I said, “Move. You’re making me late to pick up my son from school.” 1. Bella followed me out. “I’ve checked, Cole. No other woman has set foot in this house in four years. What son are you talking about?” She softened her tone. “I know you’re angry. I’ll take you home with me right now. I know your family is poor, just scraping by with that chicken farm, but I’ve already convinced my parents. They won’t look down on you anymore.” I turned, my brow furrowed. “I’ve told you before, it’s a free-range poultry business. It spans three mountains.” Bella scoffed. “It’s still just chickens. For heaven’s sake, don’t mention that in front of my parents. It’s so… provincial.” I gave up. There was no getting through to a clueless urbanite like her. She had no concept of the value of a massive, organic, free-range operation. That business had lifted my family out of poverty and made us wealthy long ago. I quickened my pace. I didn’t want to be late picking up Noah. Bella hurried to keep up. “I can take you back to the Lancaster estate right now. The villa is huge. Spencer hasn’t moved out yet, but there’s plenty of room for you. Just… be nice to him. He’s very sensitive, so you’ll have to be the bigger person and not provoke him.” “What the hell?” I stopped dead, staring at her. “You’re not even divorced, and you’re coming on to me, asking me to move in with your current husband? What am I, your side piece? Your kept man?” “Are you insane?” I yanked open my car door and slid in, desperate to get away from her. She, with a familiarity that was both infuriating and chilling, opened the passenger door and got in. “I always told you to lock the doors as soon as you get in. For safety,” she chided, as if no time had passed at all. “Still so careless after all these years.” Seeing her sitting there, so comfortable, so entitled, sent a surge of pure rage through me. “Get out. Now!” She clicked her seatbelt into place, a smug look on her face. “Weren’t you going to pick up your son? You’d better get driving, or you’ll be late.” I glanced at the time. She was right. If all the other kids were gone, Noah would be sad waiting all by himself. I stomped on the gas, peeling out of the driveway. “When you see my son,” I growled, “don’t you dare say anything stupid.” “Fine, I won’t,” she said breezily. “You’re really committed to this act, Cole. Let’s see where you conjure up a son from.” As I drove, I forced myself to calm down. At a red light, staring at the gridlocked traffic ahead, I spoke. “Bella, why were you so sure that after four years, I’d still be waiting for you?” My low, serious tone seemed to finally get through to her. A flicker of unease crossed her face, but it was quickly replaced by her usual arrogance. “After knowing me, what other woman could possibly measure up?” she said with a shrug. “Besides me, what kind of sophisticated people could you possibly meet? If you weren’t waiting for me, who else would there be?” I let out a long sigh. So that was it. In her mind, I wasn’t worthy of meeting anyone better. That’s why she could leave without a second thought and come back with such unapologetic entitlement. The light turned green. I hit the gas. As we cleared the intersection, I said quietly, “Bella, I’m not joking. I’m married. I have a child. When I park, you need to get out and leave. I don’t want you interfering with my life.” She frowned slightly. “Cole, do you really think you can fool me with this? I know you’re angry. You can throw whatever tantrum you want. I’ll be right here with you until you’ve gotten it all out of your system and you’re ready to come back to me.” 2. If words wouldn’t work, maybe the truth would. “Daddy! You’re late today!” Noah ran towards me, his arms outstretched, a sweet smile on his face. “Daddy had to go to the old house to get something. Sorry to keep you waiting, buddy. How about I make it up to you with some fries when we get home?” “Okay!” he cheered, hugging me tightly. Bella stared, speechless. She clearly hadn’t expected me to actually have a child. Her face soured. “Cole, there’s a limit to your jokes. You can’t just grab some random kid off the street. This is kidnapping! Do you want to go to jail? Take him back right now.” She grabbed Noah’s arm, intending to drag him back to the school. I slapped her hand away and pulled my son into my arms. “What are you doing?” One of the teachers saw us and walked over. “Oh, you must be Noah’s mom! We see his dad all the time, but we’ve been so eager to finally meet you.” Bella’s jaw dropped. She looked from the teacher to me. “He’s really your son?” “Of course.” I started to leave, but she blocked my path, her eyes fixed on the teacher. “How old is he?” she demanded. “Noah just turned three.” Three years old. Bella looked at Noah, who was a head taller than most of the other kids his age. Her hands shot out and gripped my arms. “Cole, his age… you’re lying, aren’t you? He’s supposed to be four. Our premature baby… he didn’t die, did he? You hid him from me all this time!” I looked at her, my voice flat. “If our child had lived, would you have still married Spencer?” “I…” She was at a loss for words, then her face crumpled. “I had to. Spencer would have died.” I sneered. “You don’t have the right to even mention our child.” “Cole, I’m taking you and our son home. Right now.” Her voice was firm, resolute. “My parents have been hoping for a grandchild for years. If you bring our son home, they won’t care about our families’ status anymore.” I could feel my eyes rolling into the back of my head. “Who wants to go with you? I told you, he’s not your son. Are you deaf?” “Stop this, Cole. I will not allow a Lancaster to be raised out here in the world like this. Why didn’t you tell me sooner? How could you let our son attend a school like this, in such a rundown, crowded area? How is he supposed to get a proper education here?” I looked at the school, then back at her. This was one of the top-rated state schools, a direct feeder for the best magnet programs in the city. What did her snooty, overpriced “elite” private school have on that? Ava had specifically transferred Noah here so he wouldn’t grow up with the arrogant, entitled attitude of kids like Bella. To hear her belittle it like this… I was suddenly profoundly grateful I’d never married someone so shortsighted. “Stay away from us,” I said coldly. “This has nothing to do with you.” “If he’s not my son, then whose is he?” She turned back to the teacher. “You, tell me. Who is listed as the mother on his records?” To protect our privacy, we’d left the mother’s information blank on the school forms. The teacher didn’t know who Noah’s mom was. When Bella heard this, she became even more certain. “Cole, it must have been so hard for you, raising him all alone. You’ve had your fun. Now, come home.” Noah didn’t understand what we were arguing about. He just whispered in my ear, “Daddy, what about my fries?” Bella reacted as if he’d said something monstrous. “Cole, how could you let my son eat that garbage? You were always eating that cheap street food, and now you’re feeding that filth to him? What if he gets sick? Can you take that responsibility? He is the sole heir to the Lancaster family!” My son wanted me to make him fries at home, with our private chef. How was that unhygienic? I ignored her and carried Noah to the car. She blocked the door. “Don’t get into this piece of junk. It’s not good enough for my son.” To keep a low profile, I drove a modest sedan. It wasn’t fancy, but the back seat was completely customized for Noah’s safety and comfort. If Bella had bothered to look inside for even a second, she would have seen that I had a child and that he was cherished. But she never paid attention to any detail about my life. She just pointed to her Mercedes. “Cole, stop pretending. Only I can give you and the boy the life you deserve.” Just then, Spencer walked up, dressed in a ridiculously expensive designer suit that was completely out of place on the bustling street. He picked his way through the crowd with a look of distaste. “Bella, darling, I thought you were picking up Cole. What’s the delay? We have that meeting with the mysterious new CEO of Westwood Corporation, remember?” The moment Bella saw him, her expression softened. “I remember, Spencer, don’t worry. I won’t forget what’s important to you. Cole is being a little difficult, but I’ll handle it and be right with you. You look so handsome today, you’ll definitely charm Ms. Westwood. She’ll be lucky to have you as a husband. The Westwoods are one of the most powerful families in the country, even bigger than ours. You’ll be so happy, Spencer. Just give me a minute, okay?” I stared at them. Were they serious? Spencer was fine with Bella chasing her ex, as long as Bella helped him land a new rich wife? And Ms. Westwood… surely they didn’t mean my wife?

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At eighteen, Mike stormed into my home and shot my stepfather ten times. As police dragged him away, bloodied, he grinned at my shocked face. “Rachel, don’t be afraid. No monster will ever hurt you in the name of family again.” After prison, he found me scavenging through trash, bullied by thugs. His fists tightened. He took me to the city’s underbelly, where we knelt, and he rebuilt himself into the feared King of the Docks. On our wedding day, he casually gifted me the entire Copperfield district as a dowry, declaring to all that I, Rachel Vance, was his life. But at twenty-eight, he was drugged during a deal and spent a night with another woman. Clutching divorce papers, I was intercepted by him and his men before reaching the lawyer. He loaded a pistol, pressed it to his own heart, and vowed, “Rachel, I’d rather die than lose you.” Unable to bear it, I relented. Later, I saw Mike with that woman—her belly rounded—shopping in an upscale baby store. The powerful man knelt before me, eyes red, explaining, “Lila is your father’s illegitimate daughter. He’s badly injured overseas; only she can bring him back. I swear, once I deal with that beast, I’ll send her away.” Swallowing the pain, I believed him again. Until this time, with one call, he diverted the heart my mother had waited ten years for. 1. I stormed into Lila’s VIP hospital room, ignoring the room full of dark-suited bodyguards and doctors. I raised my hand and slapped Mike hard across the face. He turned his head, his tongue tracing his bleeding lip. When he turned back, there was no anger in his eyes, only a complex look as he explained, “Lila was shot in the chest trying to save me. I couldn’t just leave her to die.” I gave a cold laugh and turned to leave. I used a secret way to arrange for my mother’s transfer to a hospital abroad. Then I found a lawyer to draft divorce papers and went to find Lila alone. “We’re both women, I know exactly what you want.” Lila’s eyes darted away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Mike wasn’t wearing his bulletproof vest that day. Where was it? Don’t tell me you don’t know.” Lila’s hands clenched, her knuckles white. “I don’t want to be part of your game anymore,” I said, handing her the divorce papers. “If I give these to him personally, he won’t sign them. You figure out a way to get him to sign without knowing.” Lila pursed her lips. “You’ve misunderstood. I never intended to ruin your marriage.” “This is your only chance,” I said coldly. “Think carefully.” Lila stared at the agreement for a long time before finally taking it. “Thank you, Rachel, for making our little family whole.” A family of three? My heart felt like it had been violently ripped out. “Then I wish you… a happy and complete family.” “And don’t call me Rachel. I find it sickening.” I couldn’t bring myself to forgive Mike and Lila. The only thing I could do was to tear Mike out of my very being. Returning to the castle Mike had spent billions building for me, I began to pack away the gifts he had given me over the years, one by one, into cardboard boxes. When I was ten, he drew a castle, two adults, and a child on a blank piece of paper, saying, “This will be our family portrait one day.” When I was eighteen, covered in blood, he placed eighteen blood-stained bullet casings in my palm. “From now on, you are the freest Rachel Vance.” When I was twenty-five, he controlled the entire underworld empire of the Docks and couldn’t wait to propose to me. The hand that had never trembled while holding a gun and taking a life, shook uncontrollably as he placed the wedding ring on my finger. It took him several minutes to finally put it on. He smiled, both cocky and arrogant. “Rachel, for the rest of our lives, you are mine. You can’t escape.” Finally, there was a deed to half of Copperfield, with “My heart, for you” written on the back. My eyes burned with unshed tears. Sadly, another woman already occupied his heart. I gave a self-deprecating laugh, packed everything, and scheduled a timed delivery to Mike. I specifically instructed that it was a birthday gift and had to be delivered precisely on time. The next day, I was woken by noise downstairs. Moving boxes were piled in the living room. Mike was cradling a crying baby, softly cooing. Lila stood beside them, the three forming a harmoniously jarring picture. The setting sun cast a fleeting, gentle glow on his hard profile. Lila whispered, “I can just go back to my old apartment…” “It’s not safe there. I can only rest easy with you living here,” Mike cut her off, his tone leaving no room for argument. I leaned against the doorframe, watching for a long time, unnoticed. Until Lila picked up our framed photo from the mantelpiece. “Mike,” I said coldly, “do you even remember where this is? What kind of riff-raff are you bringing in?” Mike finally realized I was home. “This is the safest place. Once things calm down, I’ll send them away.” Our eyes met. One cold, one weary. I looked away first. “Whatever.” But Lila stepped forward, offering an envelope. “Rachel, thank you for your hospitality. Here’s a small token of my appreciation.” I opened it. It was the signed divorce agreement. The bold, powerful signature “Mike Sterling” at the bottom was just like his resolute promise to love only me all those years ago. My fingers trembled imperceptibly as I held the agreement. I hadn’t expected it to be so quick, so easy. Since it was, I didn’t need to cling on any longer. “What’s that?” Mike reached for it, but I deftly dodged him, stuffing it into my bag. “My belongings are none of your concern.” Mike stared at me for a few seconds, then suddenly pulled a black card from his wallet and handed it to Lila. “Take this. The PIN is 0608.” The PIN was still my birthday, yet the bank card was now a gift to appease someone else. I curved my lips in a sarcastic smile. “It seems I’m interrupting your happy family of three here.” With that, I turned to leave. Just as I brushed past him, Mike snatched the divorce agreement from my bag. A rare flicker of seriousness crossed his eyes. But he was interrupted by a child’s wail. “It’s my fault. My presence has made Rachel angry with you, Mike. If she doesn’t want me here, I’ll just leave…” Saying this, she hurried towards the door with the baby. This time, Mike had no mind to look at the paper. He stepped forward to block Lila and her child, his tone towards me colder than I’d ever heard it. “Rachel, be sensible. Lila saved my life. I can’t just watch them live in danger, can I?” “They’re innocent. Even if your father hurt you and your mother because of her, it wasn’t Lila’s fault. Do you understand?” Realizing his tone was too harsh, he glanced at Lila, then lowered his voice, coaxing me, “Even if I have a child, you’re the only one I care about.” My gaze swept over the child in Lila’s arms. Care? If he truly cared, how could he bear to let me be a laughingstock again and again? I opened the door and walked out. I had already booked a taxi. Just as I pulled open the car door, my wrist was seized from behind. Mike had followed me out. “I said I’d take you.” “Mike, I’m not the one who needs you right now.” Mike’s pupils constricted, his grip tightening. “Rachel…” His palm was scalding, burning like a branding iron. “Oh, come on, handsome. If he’s that sincere, lady, just go with him,” the driver said, canceling the order. Today’s snow was heavier than usual, falling thick and fast. Getting another taxi would mean a long wait. I finally compromised. “Fine, you can take me.” Mike’s expression softened slightly. He took my hand, his fingers forcefully interlacing with mine. “Your hands are freezing. You didn’t wear gloves?” “Forgot,” I said calmly, not mentioning that my gloves were always kept in his car. On the way, Mike tried to lighten the mood, reminiscing about old times. “I remember the first time I fought for you. It was also a heavy snowfall like this. After the fight, I grabbed a chocolate bar for you, and it melted in your hand.” I remained silent, but Mike didn’t give up, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. “Next month is our wedding anniversary. What gift do you want? I need to prepare in advance.” My expression flickered. I suddenly wanted to tell Mike directly that I had decided to divorce him. My phone rang before I could speak. “Mike! The baby won’t stop crying for some reason. I can’t comfort him.” Lila’s tearful voice mingled with the baby’s hoarse cries. Mike’s face instantly changed. “What’s wrong? I’m coming right back!” The call ended. He didn’t hesitate. “Rachel, can you take a taxi to the hospital yourself?” “Okay.” I looked at Mike for a few seconds, then calmly agreed, swallowing the words I had been about to say. He was so close to knowing my decision. The snow was too heavy, and the location too remote. I couldn’t find a taxi at all. I trudged through the snow, my legs numb with cold. Tears streamed down my face, instantly freezing into ice. I finally reached the civil affairs office, my face almost transparently pale, my voice lacking any warmth. After warming up in the heated office for a while, I submitted the divorce papers to the staff. I’d requested expedited processing; they said I’d have the divorce certificate in seven days. Returning to the castle, only the guest bedroom light was on. Mike’s gentle voice seeped from under the door. “…Daddy and Mommy will always love our little baby the most…” He was singing a lullaby to coax the child to sleep. “What should we name the baby?” Lila asked softly. “Leo,” Mike blurted out. Star-like brilliance, the light of the emperor. That was the name he and I had chosen for our future child years ago, after spending a night poring over dictionaries. Now, it was easily given to someone else. I curved my lips in a self-deprecating smile and turned to go upstairs. Late at night, hot breath ghosted against my neck, and cool lips pressed against my skin. “Mike!” I woke with a start, pushing him away forcefully. “Don’t touch me! I find it disgusting!” “You despise me?” He froze, his eyes instantly darkening. He ignored my struggles and kissed me fiercely. “Hiss—” I bit his tongue. The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. Mike winced, but still didn’t let go. My nightgown was roughly torn open, revealing my pale, tender skin. His touch everywhere only caused waves of nausea. Tears silently streamed down, splashing onto his hand. “Alright, don’t cry.” He finally stopped, fumbling to wipe my tears. “It’s my fault.” I clenched my fists, staring at him. “You said everything could go back to how it was…” “But Mike, you never used to be like this.” Mike paused, then after a moment, he whispered, “I’m sorry.” He took a pillow and went to the sofa. Perhaps due to my tears last night, Mike felt guilty and suggested we go to the shooting range to relax. When he pulled up the car, I was about to get into the passenger seat, but Lila squeezed past me. He didn’t notice at all, getting out of the car himself, placing his hand on Lila’s head to shield her as he helped her in. After we arrived, he was constantly doting on her, completely forgetting I was behind him. “Careful, it’s slippery.” “Look down. Put on your goggles.” “Drink some hot water, don’t catch a cold.” Every word felt like a bullet tearing through me. I silently walked to a shooting lane, picked up a silver Desert Eagle, expertly loaded and cocked it, then aimed. These were the things he had taught me when I was twenty-five, whispering softly in my ear, guiding my hands. But now, all his attention was on another woman, afraid she might suffer the slightest mishap. Ten minutes later, he finally remembered me, but only to say, “Rachel, can you hold the baby for a moment? I’m going to teach Lila how to shoot.” I ignored him, pulling the trigger repeatedly. The gunshots echoed, startling the baby into loud cries. Lila immediately persuaded, “I won’t learn anymore, Mike. Go accompany Rachel.” Mike frowned, picked up the baby, and walked towards the rest area to find his assistant. “Rachel,” Lila approached, holding a small pistol. Her smile was gentle, but her eyes were cold. “I heard lead bullets are safe, but I’m curious what happens if you’re shot within a meter.” She suddenly raised her arm and pulled the trigger! Bang! The gun fired. The bullet tore through my wrist bone. Blood spattered out. Lila’s scream rang out simultaneously, and Mike rushed over almost immediately. “Mike!” I cried out in pain. But he ran straight to Lila, his expression frantic, scooping her up and rushing out, not once looking back at me. Warm blood soaked through my sleeve. I vaguely recalled when I was twenty-five, he held my hand and said: “Rachel, guns are dangerous, but with me, you’ll never be harmed.” My vision blurred. I sank weakly to the ground. When I woke again, I was in a hospital. Both hands were bandaged. The slightest movement brought excruciating pain. Mike sat by my bedside, dark circles under his eyes. “Rachel, you’re awake?” His voice was hoarse. “Does it still hurt?” Seeing his seemingly genuine concern, I suddenly felt very tired. “Did you investigate what happened?” “It was just an accident,” Mike replied without thinking, tucking me in. “Rest well and don’t overthink it, okay?” I pressed my lips together, wanting to speak, but then I noticed that my uninjured right hand was also bandaged. “What happened here?” “Lila’s hand was severely mangled, and the doctors said she needed a skin graft. But she’s allergic to artificial skin…” A chill spread through my body, bit by bit. “Your skin matched hers. The situation was too urgent, so I signed the consent form for you to donate skin to Lila.” He said it so casually, yet I felt as if I’d plunged into an ice abyss. My eyes widened in disbelief, trying to find a trace of a joke in his gaze, but tears welled up uncontrollably. Mike’s tone became urgent: “It was just a small piece from the inner arm. It won’t affect anything…” “Get out,” I said softly, closing my eyes. “I don’t want to see you.” Mike froze, reaching out to touch me, but I fiercely slapped his hand away. “Get out!” I shrieked hysterically. “Get out!” The wound burst open, blood seeping through the bandages. Mike’s face changed, and he frantically pressed the call button. “Rachel, calm down! Your wound has reopened!” I heard nothing, struggling wildly, my arm crashing against the bed rail. The nurse rushed in and held me down. A cold sedative was injected into my veins. My strength rapidly drained away. With my last ounce of energy, I squeezed out two words: “Divorce.” On the day I was discharged, Mike personally picked me up and took me home. Everything there was back to normal. All traces of Lila and the child were gone. Mike set out the food. “Try it. I haven’t cooked in a long time.” His expression was normal, but I felt something was off. I looked at him and asked directly, “Mike, I don’t want to interfere in your and Lila’s affairs anymore. If you have something to say, just say it.” “Don’t overthink it. Eat first.” He evaded the question, serving me food and soup. During the meal, there was only the faint sound of cutlery. He glanced at his watch occasionally, a habit of vigilance he’d developed over the years. My unease grew stronger. I hastily ate a few bites, and as soon as I stood up, a wave of dizziness sent me back down. Mike put down his utensils, his expression slowly turning cold, chilling to the bone. “Rachel, this is your punishment.” His tone was one I had never heard before, so devoid of warmth. “I’ve already sent Lila away, yet you still dared to leak her whereabouts to my enemies! She and the child were almost run over! Rachel, how could you become so vicious? That’s my child too!” Leaked whereabouts? Almost run over? I gritted my teeth. “I didn’t…” “Only I, Lila, and you knew about that house! Was she trying to get herself killed?” He suddenly pulled me up. “I’ve indulged you too much.” “Rachel, reflect on your actions.” With that, he personally locked me in the closet. The world instantly plunged into dead silence and darkness. When I was ten, my mother hid me in a closet, and I watched my father brutally assault her for three hours. Blood splattered all over the closet. I stayed in there for three days and three nights. It was Mike who found me and carried me out. Now, he was the one who personally locked me in. Cold sweat immediately drenched my back. Fear seized my heart. I huddled in the corner, breathing rapidly, unable to distinguish reality from illusion, my face ashen. Before consciousness faded, I saw him at our wedding three years ago, holding my hand, swearing to the heavens: “I, Mike Sterling, swear to God, I will never betray you, Rachel Vance, in this life.” That vow, once made, now burned to ash in an inferno. When I woke again, the air was thick with the smell of disinfectant.

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I was abandoned when I was just five days old. But for some reason, my birth mother left me on the doorstep of the Black Talon gang in Southside. To survive, when I was staring into the fierce eyes of those desperate men, still in my swaddling clothes, I instinctively blurted out “Daddy.” The rough men instantly furrowed their brows. “Maybe… we could keep her?” From then on, I had 108 fathers. But my family seemed to be a magnet for wanted posters. So, to avoid causing trouble for my dads, I lived an utterly ordinary life for over a decade. Until I encountered bullying in high school. A rich girl, Chelsea Thorne, with her cronies, cornered me in the bathroom, doused me with cold water, tore my clothes, and filmed me with a camcorder. “What are you staring at? You charity case, acting all high and mighty! You trash, thinking you can go to college!” But I was hit so hard, I screamed and pulled Chelsea, dragging her with me as I plunged from the third floor. When I woke up, the school nurse, Mrs. Davison, pointed at me and yelled: “She hit you, so you tried to kill her, is that it?! When others hit or scold you, you don’t reflect on yourself, but plot revenge!!” “Get your parents here, now! I want to see them! If they don’t show up, you’ll stay here today and rot!” My hair stood on end. I meekly replied: “Ma’am, are you sure you want to call my parents?” … The words hung in the air, then SMACK, a sharp crack. “Sure? I’m sure your ass!” “You little brat! How dare you lay a hand on my daughter! You will call your parents to come apologize to me!” Chelsea’s dad, Mr. Thorne, slapped me across the face, his eyes blazing with vicious fury. I instantly fell to the ground, half my face stinging with a fiery pain. Mrs. Davison, however, acted as if she hadn’t seen a thing, immediately bowing and scraping, fawning over Mr. Thorne. “Mr. Thorne, rest assured, the school will handle this strictly and without leniency!” She turned her head, screaming at my face. “Willow King! Look at what you’ve done to Chelsea Thorne! Call your parents immediately to pay her medical bills!” I lowered my head, my nails digging deep into my palms. A metallic taste spread in my mouth. “No, it was Chelsea, she was the one who first cornered me in the bathroom with her friends, poured cold water on me, and tore my clothes. I was just…” But I didn’t finish my sentence. Chelsea, lying weakly in the infirmary bed, burst into tears. “Dad! She’s lying! I was just passing by, and Willow King suddenly went crazy and pushed me down the stairs… She’s just a scholarship student, jealous because our family has money. She’s always hated me!” “You clearly…” I immediately retorted. But Mrs. Davison gave me no chance to speak. “Silence! Willow King! The facts are clear; you deliberately assaulted her!” She grabbed me and dragged me out of the medical room. Roughly pulling out my phone, Mrs. Davison slammed it against my face with a smack. “I don’t want to hear your nonsense! Now, immediately! Call your parents! Tell them to get their butts over here and pay up!” Instantly, the eyes of teachers and students in the hallway focused on me, a mix of curiosity and schadenfreude. But I clutched the cold phone, looking at the busy contacts list, yet I couldn’t bring myself to make the call. I had 108 fathers. But Dad One was a gang boss, Dad Three trafficked weapons, Dad Fifteen ran black market loans, Dad Seventy-Eight owned an underground casino… Although they always loved to give me black cards and then stroke my head, saying: “Sweet Pea, don’t cause trouble outside, but if you’re ever in trouble, always come to Daddy. If anyone lays a finger on you, Dad One will make their whole family disappear from the face of the Earth.” “That’s right, if anyone dares to upset you, Dad Three will come with two knives and chop them up!” But they were all Southside’s most wanted criminals. A shiver ran down my spine. I remembered how they always left early and came home late, covered in scars and blood, grumbling about running into “the Feds” again today. I remembered the “Crackdown on Organized Crime” headlines constantly scrolling across the news. I… I couldn’t put them in harm’s way. Looking up again, I tried one last desperate plea. “Ma’am, my dads… they’re all working out of town, very far away, they can’t make it.” “Could I just… write an apology, get a detention, even a suspension, just please, don’t call them?” Mrs. Davison let out a sneer. “Working? No wonder you turned out to be such a shameless child! And they can’t make it?” “No way!” “Chelsea Thorne’s medical expenses, her emotional damages, so much money! You, a child, can pay for that? Call them now, don’t waste time!” She looked at me with utter contempt. “How much? I can…” I was about to say I could pay for it myself, as I hadn’t even touched the black cards my dads gave me. But Mr. Thorne came out and immediately handed Mrs. Davison a bank card. “Mrs. Davison, here’s half a million for the school’s donation.” “My demand is simple: get her parents to come here, apologize, and compensate us!” “Otherwise, I’ll call the police directly! I’ll accuse her of intentional assault! Once she has a criminal record, she can forget about ever going to college!” Seeing the bank card, Mrs. Davison’s eyes instantly lit up. She turned to me, her tone becoming incredibly stern. “Willow King, did you hear that? This is your last chance!” “Either call your working parents now to come pay and apologize!” “Or you get a criminal record and forget about college for the rest of your life!” A criminal record… The two words, like needles, instantly pierced my mind. I couldn’t have a criminal record. I still had to go to college, still had to earn money to support my dads in their old age. Looking at that bank card, looking at Mrs. Davison’s snobbish and ugly face. Tears welled in my eyes. My trembling fingers finally lit up my phone screen. “Ma’am, please! Don’t call the police. I’ll… I’ll call my parents.” My trembling hand touched “Dad One” at the very top of my contact list. Although he was a gang boss, he was still the most “normal” among all my dads. I hoped, I hoped he could pretend to be an ordinary person and get through this. “Beep, beep…” The call was answered the instant it went through. Dad One’s gentle, smiling voice came from the receiver: “Sweet Pea?” “Dad One,” I pressed my lips together and spoke: “My teacher wants me to call you to school. I…” “To school?” He instantly sounded excited: “Oh, my girl won another award, didn’t she! It’s the first time you’ve asked Dad to come get a certificate! Wait for it, Dad’s coming now!” “No…” A pang of sorrow hit me. I was about to say no. But then, a clear gunshot suddenly echoed from the other end of the line. Followed by the screams of unfamiliar men and a series of dull thuds. I froze instantly. I faintly heard a very soft “clean it up.” Childhood memories flooded back—Dad One always came home with blood on him, but he’d lie and say it was ketchup. His breathing seemed a little unsteady, but when he spoke to me again, his voice was still gentle: “No what? Honey?” The thought of him possibly doing something dangerous, or being injured, made my heart pound. The words on the tip of my tongue twisted into: “Nothing… it’s nothing. I can just get the certificate myself. You’re busy, I’m hanging up.” “Hey! You didn’t even say anything, why are you hanging up!” Hearing me, Mrs. Davison yelled and reached out to grab my phone. Instinctively dodging, I quickly hung up. But the next second, “SMACK!” Another harsh slap landed on my face. Mrs. Davison’s face was twisted with fury: “You caused such big trouble and you’re still trying to hide it from your parents!” Mr. Thorne also slammed his fist against the wall, pointing a finger at my nose and cursing: “Don’t think hiding it from adults means nothing will happen! I’m telling you, in this part of Southside, I’m the local kingpin! I have people in the police department! If you dare touch my daughter, I’ll make your whole family of low-wage workers disappear in minutes!” Chelsea hobbled out, limping, and sneered at me: “You’re so pathetic you don’t even dare call your parents, probably because your family is too poor to put food on the table, right? So where did you get the guts to push me? Ridiculous!” I lowered my head, my voice as faint as a mosquito’s buzz: “My dads really can’t come… I’m sorry, Chelsea Thorne, it was my fault, I shouldn’t have pushed you.” “I can kowtow to you in front of the whole school, be your lackey for a year, or you can hit me back, but please don’t call the police, okay? I don’t want to be expelled…” Chelsea laughed with disdain, but Mr. Thorne roared and reached out to snatch my phone. “You’re trying to negotiate terms now?” “Give me your parents’ number, I’ll tell them myself!” Mrs. Davison immediately chimed in: “Willow King, give Mr. Thorne your phone! Don’t be stubborn, you need to show a willingness to solve the problem!” The man lunged forward to grab it, but I fiercely protected my phone, backing away repeatedly. Finally, I ended up clumsily kneeling on the ground. My knees hit the cold tiles, a searing pain bringing tears to my eyes, but I kept kowtowing and begging: “…Please, please, don’t go after my dads. Chelsea, please, I’ll do anything I just said—apologize, atone, let you hit me back—just please don’t call my parents, okay?!” Dull thuds echoed on the floor until my forehead was bleeding. Only then did a look of triumphant pleasure appear on Chelsea’s face. Stopping her dad, she raised her voice: “Alright then, just apologizing publicly isn’t enough. Tomorrow, you have to kowtow to me 100 times, until I’m satisfied! Only then will I not call the police.” “Alright.” Clenching my fists, I agreed to all her conditions. My heart bled with humiliation, yet I felt it was worth it, as long as I didn’t implicate my dads. But that evening, when I, wearing a baseball cap, wearily returned to the small apartment Dad Two rented for me. I saw three men bustling in the kitchen, cooking up a storm: Dad Sixty-Six, Dad Seventy-Nine, and Dad Ninety-Three. Seeing me return, they immediately gathered around, beaming. “Sweet Pea’s home!” At the dining table, Dad Sixty-Six chuckled and squeezed my cheek: “Sweet Pea, I heard you’re getting an award at school? Why didn’t you let an old dad go collect it for you? By sequence, it should be my turn, shouldn’t it?” Dad Seventy-Nine expertly massaged my shoulders, refuting him: “My turn, you fool! It’s my turn!” Dad Ninety-Three pushed a bowl of soup in front of me: “Drink up, brain food, so you can get into a good college.” My nose stung, and I almost burst into tears. But I forced a smile and explained: “It’s just a small award, no need to trouble you. I’ll call you for a big award next time.” “Alright, we won’t argue. You eat first, honey.” The men excitedly served me food. As I was eating, Dad Sixty-Six suddenly grew serious and stood up to answer a phone call. But I faintly caught a few words. “That shipment… being watched again… jumped into the river… Damn it, this money is so hard to earn…” Instantly, my heart tightened again. Fearing they might get caught, I took a deep breath and put down my chopsticks. “Dads, in the future… can you… can you stop doing that kind of work? I’m grown up now. I’ll get into a good college and support you.” “So, can you find some stable jobs?” The three big men froze simultaneously, then, deeply moved, burst into tears and promised they would. Two hours later, the three of them gave me a few more instructions, left me three black cards, and then quickly departed. I stood at the doorway, watching them disappear down the hallway, my eyes stinging. “Remember to change jobs!” “Got it!” But the moment the door closed, old Dad Sixty-Six looked at his brothers beside him, puzzled. “Strange, our daughter doesn’t like my nuclear submarine research…?” The other three were equally bewildered. And I, closing the door, looked at the group chat on my phone, “Loving Family (108),” which already had 999+ messages. My dads were all asking: “Sweet Pea, are you tired from studying today?” “Do you have enough money? Don’t skimp, Daddy has plenty!” My eyes warmed again. I sniffed, and finally typed a line into the chat box. “I’m fine, everyone. Don’t worry. Dads, you’re busy with work, please also pay attention to your safety.” Send. The next second, staring at the constant stream of caring messages popping up on the screen, I made up my mind. I would never cause my dads any more trouble. Willow King, you must hold on. Just until after college entrance exams, everything will be fine. On Monday’s flag-raising ceremony, a dense crowd of students packed the field below. I knelt on the ground, mechanically confessing my sins. “It was I who, filled with resentment, pushed Chelsea Thorne down the stairs… I was jealous of her, I’m a worthless person…” My voice echoed across the sports field, but every word felt like a knife cutting my throat. Chelsea sat in a wheelchair, pushed to the very front by a few classmates, watching me with a smug look, her eyes filled with excitement as I knelt and kowtowed, apologizing. Beneath the stage, whispers coalesced into a buzzing din of noise. “I heard her family is really poor; she’s here on scholarship.” “Such a malicious mind, just jealous of their money.” “Look at her pathetic, penniless self, serves her right.” “Born without a mother’s raising, just no upbringing.” All the malicious words were like needles pricking my flesh, a bone-chilling pain. But I was already numb. Done reciting, I slowly bent at the waist. Thud. The first kowtow, on the cold platform. … Fifty kowtows, one hundred kowtows. I slammed my head down, again and again. My forehead went from numb to agonizing pain, then to a warm stickiness. Blood streamed down my brow, blurring my vision, plunging everything into darkness. The ground was covered in crimson. When the confession was over, I walked off the stage, my face covered in blood. The crowd parted for me as if I were carrying a plague. Chelsea, surrounded by her entourage, deliberately walked past me. She said in a voice that was neither too loud nor too soft: “Ugh, some people are just lowly. An apology isn’t enough, is it? From now on, when you see me, you call me ‘Grandma.’ Got it?” Clenching my fists, my nails dug deep into my flesh. I said nothing. I just silently returned to my seat, took out a wet wipe, and vigorously tried to rub off the red paint from the table. But the paint had already seeped into the wood grain, spreading and smearing with each wipe, like ugly scars. All day long, I was surrounded by malice, until the dismissal bell rang, and I couldn’t hold back anymore, rushing out of the classroom. Afraid to use the main entrance, I took the secluded alley behind the school to leave. But after only a few steps, at the alley entrance, Chelsea and her three cronies were already blocking the way. She stood up from her wheelchair, stretched her limbs, and walked towards me, step by step. “Didn’t you say you’d be my lackey? The boss hasn’t left, but you’re running fast, are you messing with me, Willow King?” “Sorry, you didn’t call me…” “Whether I call you or not, you’re going to follow me around like a dog!” Chelsea pulled out her camcorder, aiming the lens at my disheveled face. “Come on, apologize again. Say, ‘I, Willow King, am trash, and I shouldn’t have forgotten to be Chelsea Thorne’s dog.’” I bit my lip, motionless. Chelsea became even more excited, launching into a new round of torment. Cold mineral water poured over my head. My soaked school uniform was torn by them. Lipstick was haphazardly smeared across my face. Chelsea held up the camcorder, laughing maniacally. “Come on, smile for the camera, say, ‘Thank you, Sister Thorne, for the lesson,’ otherwise, I’m calling the police and letting your unspeakable dads have a nice chat with the precinct?” My mind buzzed. I stared at her, disbelieving. Did Chelsea know about them? But I couldn’t risk it. I could only endure my whole body trembling, my voice hoarse as I repeated her words. “Thank you, Sister Thorne… for the lesson.” Only after I said it dozens of times did Chelsea smile, satisfied, kicking me once before leaving. “Wouldn’t it have been better if you’d been this obedient earlier? From now on, after school every day, wait for me here, got it? Whatever I want you to do, you have to do!” “Alright.” She left with her cronies. Instantly, I was alone in the alley. I don’t know how long passed before I slowly crouched down. On the ground, a soaked math test, the vivid red “100” glaringly obvious. Frantically, I fought back the welling tears, reaching out to pick up the mud-stained books and test papers. However, the moment I looked up. At the mouth of the alley, four or five men had appeared. Leading them was Dad One. And behind him, another four or five dads. At this moment, their faces were dark and grim, all staring intently at me, silent. The air in the alley seemed to freeze. After a long moment, Dad One crouched down, his rough fingers wiping away the bloodstains on my face. “Who did this?” I turned my face away, not daring to meet the anger in his eyes, and whispered: “Nothing… I just fell accidentally.” “Fell?” Dad Five snatched up the math textbook, crushed and mud-stained, pointing at the dirty shoe prints on it, and roared: “This is falling? This is stomping her to death!” Dad Three adjusted his glasses, his eyes behind the lenses sharp as blades: “Sweet Pea, tell us. If you say the word, Daddy will blow up Southside and kill those people.” But I bit my lip tightly. I couldn’t say it. Mr. Thorne was rich and powerful. Chelsea said even the Southside police listened to her family. My dads were wanted men; I couldn’t get them… sent to prison. I shook my head stubbornly, but tears refused to obey, welling in my eyes. Time ticked by, second by second. Finally, Dad One sighed, gently gripping my cold hand, yet with an undeniable strength. “Sweet Pea, do you remember that year when you were five, the chubby kid from the next street stole your candy, and you cried all night when you came home?” “The next day, that chubby kid’s entire family moved out of Southside.” “Your dads aren’t good people, but our family rule is, whoever touches you, dies!” The wind in the alley instantly stilled. Seeing my dads silently gather around me, their eyes filled with extreme suppressed rage and heartache. All the humiliation, fear, and shame of these past days instantly broke through my tightly strung nerves. “Dad—” I flung myself into Dad One’s arms, sobbing uncontrollably, gasping out everything that had happened: “It was Chelsea… Her dad is Mr. Thorne, he owns mines… She said Southside is all their territory… She bullies me every day… Today she even filmed it…” Dad Five’s latest model phone, in his hand, CRACKED! He had crushed the screen! “A mine owner, how dare he!” “Damn it, that bastard Thorne! When I helped him get started back in the day, he was licking my boots!” “He’s gone too far! How dare he touch our Sweet Pea!” My dads’ curses rose and fell, but I listened, stunned. Dad One simply patted my back, then pulled out his phone, dialed a number, his voice cold as ice. “Send out the word. All brothers, drop what you’re doing.” “One hour, everyone to Southside.” “Our girl, she’s been bullied!” Early the next morning, Dad One told me to go to school as usual. I nodded, going alone. Sure enough, at the school gate, Chelsea was again waiting by that flashy luxury car. Seeing me, she deliberately raised her voice, her face full of sarcasm: “Oh, isn’t this the one who knelt and kowtowed to me yesterday…” But before she finished, I walked straight past her, my eyes calm, as if she were just air. Chelsea instantly froze. “Willow King!” She flared up in anger, lunged forward, and tightly grabbed my backpack: “Did I say you could leave? Didn’t learn your lesson yesterday, did you? You trash!” She raised her hand to slap me. “I’m giving you face—” But remembering Dad One’s words, my heart was now filled with unprecedented confidence. The next second, her wrist was clamped tightly in my hand, stopped mid-air.

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After a massive fight with Wesley, I started to keep my distance from him. He asked me, his voice cold, “Didn’t you know I loved her before you married me?” From that day on, I stopped being jealous. I didn’t ask about him and Sienna checking into hotels late at night. When rumors spread in the alumni chat that he and Sienna had rekindled their old flame, I simply replied with a “Congrats!” Now, he sat beside me, panic in his eyes. His knuckles, gripping the steering wheel, were white. He slammed on the brakes. 1. Half a month ago, Sienna returned to the country. News spread that she was on a hiking trip, got trapped on a snowy mountain. Wesley rushed to the snowy mountain overnight, spending a million dollars to hire a professional mountain rescue team. I woke up to find a photo of him and Sienna trending online. Gossip accounts gushed about his and Sienna’s romance. “Turns out, there really is a love story like those in novels—a reunion after a long separation, a broken mirror made whole again.” “A certain CEO spent millions rescuing his first love, who was trapped on a snowy mountain. And the key is, he and his first love both look like they walked straight out of a novel.” The accompanying image was of Wesley carrying Sienna in his arms. Under the moonlight, his chiseled face was bathed in a soft glow. His expression was calm, his eyes deep. The woman in his arms clung to his neck. The picture was incredibly atmospheric, like the final scene of a movie. In our school days, Wesley and Sienna were a match made in heaven. Their grades and looks were equally impressive. I sat cross-legged on my bed, staring blankly. So, Wesley’s overnight absence was to find Sienna. I’d called him three times, but they all went to voicemail. After getting ready, I drove to the TV station for work. Sienna being trapped on the snowy mountain became a major news story. My boss assigned our team to do a report on people getting trapped on snowy mountains while hiking. I planned to focus on safety tips for hikers, while a colleague from another team wanted to dig into the gossip of Wesley and Sienna’s romance. My colleagues were discussing it. “This is truly a novel brought to life, isn’t it? Guess what I found out?” “They dated in high school and only broke up in their senior year of college.” “I’ve already contacted their high school and college classmates.” Suddenly, a colleague mentioned me. “Lynn, I remember you also graduated from Capital High and Capital University, and I think you were in the same year as them.” “Did you hear any stories about them from that year?” My body tensed, and I forced a smile. “No.” Of course, I had heard. I had a crush on Wesley from high school through college, and then we married. I knew about his and Sienna’s relationship better than anyone. My colleagues’ voices buzzed in my ears. “This story could really be turned into a novel.” “Such a perfect match, handsome guy and beautiful girl.” It wasn’t until a colleague next to me reminded me that I realized I hadn’t even drafted a single line of copy all morning. After work, I walked out of the TV station. I received a call. “Lynn, Ms. Chen wants our department to contact Sienna.” I felt a bit resistant. Interviewing my husband’s ex-girlfriend felt far too awkward. I tried to decline, but couldn’t. “Anna, how about I stay behind the scenes this time? I’ll handle a different segment.” “You guys go do the interview.” Anna readily agreed. “Okay, I’ll go for the interview tomorrow.” “But I can’t drive, can you give me a ride?” I said, “Sure.” I drove home. Wesley still wasn’t back. 2. The next day, Anna and I went to the hospital where Sienna was staying. We also had to interview other injured members of the hiking group. I waited in the car for Anna. Anna called me, “Lynn, I forgot my laptop.” “Can you bring it up for me?” “It’s in your car.” I looked around and found it on the back seat. I grabbed the laptop and hurried up in the elevator. Anna messaged me. “Lynn, we’re on the sixth floor.” “In room 605.” I got to the sixth floor. As I walked towards room 605, I inexplicably stopped. Through the clear glass, I saw Wesley and Sienna. Wesley stood up, and Sienna hugged him. She carefully stood on tiptoes. “Wesley, is there still a chance for us?” Wesley froze, his eyes swirling with emotion, his eyelashes fluttering slightly. Sienna took advantage of his distraction, leaning in, about to kiss him. His gaze was filled with a careful tenderness as he looked at the woman before him. Wesley closed his eyes. “Lynn, over here.” My colleague called out to me. Suddenly, Wesley’s eyes snapped open, and he pushed Sienna away. Both people in the hospital room looked towards me, standing outside the door. Wesley and I exchanged a look. I clutched the laptop and trotted over. Anna said to me, “Sigh.” “The big boss is too protective of his wife; he won’t let us interview her.” “After all, someone who can spend millions to rescue his first love wouldn’t easily make a public appearance.” “We’ll just have to interview others.” I was a bit distracted, vaguely replying, “Oh, okay.” I helped Anna finish interviewing all the members of the hiking group. The members were all complaining, “We paid so much money, and because of the guide’s mistake, we almost lost our lives.” “You’re reporters, can you help us sue this guide?” I reassured them, “We’re reporters, we can only help you get your voices heard.” “As for the guide, you’ll need to find a lawyer for that.” Back at the TV station, I sat down at my desk. In my mind, I replayed the scene of Wesley almost kissing Sienna. I had imagined many scenarios of confrontation, but never this. Wesley returned and appeared before me. I desperately tried to control my emotions. My eyes were misting. “Wesley, don’t you need to explain what’s going on with you and Sienna?” He took off his wool coat, preparing to head to the bathroom. He let out a low laugh, tinged with a hint of mockery. “Lynn, using your position to spread rumors—is that your purpose as a journalist?” I didn’t know what he was talking about. “Wesley, what do you mean?” “I just want you to explain yourself to me.” Wesley stared directly at me, his expression cold. “Spreading rumors that she’s a homewrecker, this report was written by you, wasn’t it?” “I’ve already had all the trending topics removed.” “Lynn, don’t let me see your TV station report anything related to her again.” “If everyone in your department wants to be fired, then prepare to pack your bags and leave.” I hadn’t written any report about her. But Wesley’s defense of Sienna and his accusations made me uncomfortable and hurt. I retorted, “Wesley.” “I’m your wife.” He tilted his head slightly, his eyes distant. His tone was flat, casually aloof. “Lynn.” “You’ve had a crush on me for a long time. You already knew she was my ex-girlfriend; you should be very clear about our relationship.” “Before you married me, didn’t you know I loved her?” I froze, trying to speak several times but unable to form words. My eyes slowly reddened, welling up with tears. 3. I knew he loved Sienna. Throughout high school, I was always a peripheral student. Sienna was the beautiful, bright class president. He excelled academically and came from a good family. It was no surprise that Wesley and Sienna became a couple. In our senior year of high school, our homeroom teacher and head of year even praised them as the most outstanding students. Everyone expected the top scholar to be Wesley or Sienna. To everyone’s surprise, that year’s top scholar was me. When it was announced that I was the top scholar, the graduation class gathering buzzed with excitement. I attended the reunion filled with anticipation, only to learn that Wesley and Sienna had gone on a trip. Our homeroom teacher teased him, “Wesley, Sienna.” “Don’t forget to invite me to your wedding when you graduate.” Wesley, barely sixteen or seventeen, could converse effortlessly with adults. “No problem, Mr. Davies.” “We’ll give you a seat at the main table.” I was disheartened for a long time. He and Sienna were together. I thought that by becoming the top scholar of our year, I could finally catch his attention. In college, Wesley majored in Computer Science. Sienna studied Law. They went from high school to college, inseparable for all four years of university. When Wesley didn’t have classes, he would often walk Sienna to her law school lectures. The Capital University campus bulletin board had a post. It featured a photo of Wesley, dressed in a white shirt and black pants, radiating youthful ambition. He was tall and lean, leaning against a tree outside the girls’ dormitory. “Seeking info on this guy. I’ve been watching him for ages, he’s so handsome. Does anyone know him or have his contact info?” Someone replied to the poster. “Don’t bother asking, he’s taken.” “He’s waiting for his girlfriend downstairs at the dorm.” “He and his girlfriend have been together since high school. Give up, there’s no chance.” “Wow, he’s like a devoted statue waiting for his wife. Such a passionate guy.” In the first semester of senior year, Sienna chose to sacrifice their love to study abroad. Young and headstrong, neither would back down, and they broke up. I was surprised when I learned of their breakup. For years, everyone thought they would end up together. By the time we graduated college, Sienna had been abroad for quite a while. That day, I was at a class reunion at a bar. Wesley was there too. He knew some students from our department; he’d been brought by a friend. I secretly glanced at him several times. After the party, he walked towards me. I thought my secret crush hadn’t been so secret; he knew now. During my four years of college, after learning about his relationship with Sienna, I rarely followed his news. I thought I shouldn’t like him anymore. Until we met again, and I found my heart still fluttered for him. He raised an eyebrow, saying without reservation, “You like me?” “Let’s exchange contact info.” At that moment, I felt like a floating balloon, my heart soaring. It wasn’t until we got married that I learned he had added me because he lost a game of truth or dare. When Wesley said those words, my mind went blank. “Didn’t you know I loved her before you married me?” His words echoed in my mind. He looked at me, his expression calm. My nose stung. “Okay, Wesley.” “I will interfere in your and Sienna’s affairs.” Wesley knew I liked him, yet he didn’t hesitate to use my crush to hurt me. His shoulder stiffened imperceptibly, and he picked up his pajamas, heading to the bathroom. This was the most serious argument Wesley and I had had in our two years of marriage. Usually, he was aloof and indifferent, so we barely ever fought. We would both concede to each other. I had dreamed of marrying Wesley, the object of my secret crush, throughout my youth, and I actually did. But married life was nothing like I had imagined. He didn’t love me; he married me only as a compromise with his family and on a momentary impulse. After the fight, our relationship remained as usual, neither warm nor cold. 4. I started to examine our relationship and came to a conclusion: we weren’t a good match. After I decided to let go of him, I found our interactions became much easier. I no longer bothered preparing dinner. I left the cooking to Mrs. Chen, our housekeeper. Nor did I leave a light on when he worked late or had business dinners. That night, he came home late. I didn’t pay attention to his work hours; I was in my study, dealing with my own work. Until he made a noise, pushing open the study door. His tightly furrowed brow relaxed. “Is there any porridge?” When he had late business dinners, I used to cook him a bowl of preserved egg and lean pork porridge, or noodles. I shook my head. “No.” Hearing that answer, he visibly paused, a little unaccustomed to it. “Is there anything else to eat at home?” I said, “No.” He usually had lunch prepared by his assistant at the office, and I ate lunch near the TV station. He often didn’t come home for dinner. So, there was hardly any food in the fridge. He nodded and turned to head to the bathroom. My relationship with Wesley slowly faded; to be precise, I had always been the one initiating contact. Once I stopped, there was hardly any connection between us. The last chat we had was a week before our argument, when I shared that my colleagues and I had found a great restaurant. I told him we should go together next time, and he replied he’d see if he had time. On Friday night, my colleagues and I at the TV station worked until 1 AM, then went to a nearby street for a late-night meal. One female boss’s husband called to pick her up. Anna proactively called her boyfriend, whose first words were, “Baby, send me your location.” “I’m already dressed and ready to go.” My colleagues around us teased, and Anna’s face flushed. “No, wait a bit.” “A few colleagues and Lynn and I are going for a gathering.” We ate hot pot. Afterward, the female boss’s husband picked her up with their child. Anna’s boyfriend held two cups of bubble tea. “They’re hot. You said this afternoon you wanted bubble tea. I bought them a while ago, didn’t expect you to be working late tonight.” I greeted Anna’s boyfriend. Anna handed me the other bubble tea. “Lynn, here, drink this.” I took the bubble tea, smiling, “Thanks.” Next to the hot pot restaurant was a five-star hotel. Looking up, I saw Wesley. He stood out too much, and with Sienna, he looked even more striking. Under the night sky, a man and a woman emerged from the hotel. I stood frozen.

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My friends called me a simp. I worked three jobs, all to put my girlfriend, Scarlett Reed, through law school. She’d say: “Ash, when I pass the bar, I’ll come back to you.” “Ash, when I get confirmed, I’ll marry you.” “Ash, when I become a partner, we’ll get married immediately.” My friends told me that once they make it, they often ditch their loved ones. I didn’t believe them, and I waited seven years. Until my mom was nearly assaulted and accidentally killed her attacker. Frantically, I tried to reach Scarlett, but I couldn’t get through. Desperate, I had no choice but to go to Zenith City to find her. “Attorney Reed, which Attorney Reed?” “Oh, you mean Scarlett, don’t you?” “Attorney Reed is already a senior partner at our firm at such a young age. She just married our boss’s son and is on her honeymoon.” The receptionist picked up a box of wedding favors from the desk. “Here, the firm gave these out recently. Their wedding photos are gorgeous.” 1 I stared at the wedding favor box the receptionist handed me, at the names and the wedding photo. My mind exploded in a deafening buzz. Scarlett Reed. Married? My girlfriend of seven years, seven years of long-distance, the woman I’d poured everything into to get her through school, was married? My face went ashen, my fingertips trembled. I didn’t even notice the papers I was holding slip to the floor, my airway instantly constricting, leaving me gasping for breath. The receptionist looked at me, surprised. “Sir, are you alright?” My gaze remained fixed on Scarlett’s picture. Snapping back to reality, I shook my head, my throat tight. “I’m fine, I’m fine.” “My mom got into trouble. I came all the way from out of town to Zenith City to ask Attorney Reed to represent her, but I didn’t expect… I didn’t expect her to be so busy.” I explained, my voice catching. The receptionist looked sympathetic and offered to register me to see if other lawyers could help. “Thank you.” “Can I keep that wedding photo?” “It’s really beautiful. I’d like to find a similar dress when I get married.” The receptionist didn’t think much of it and handed me the entire box of favors and the photo. I pulled out the photo and slipped it into my jacket pocket, right over my heart. In that moment, my heart felt like it was being torn to shreds. That day, I sat on the steps outside the law firm all afternoon, repeatedly looking at the wedding photo. It was the most agonizing day of my life. Mechanically, I kept dialing her number, but the call never went through. I couldn’t understand how Scarlett, who I talked to almost every day, found time to be with someone else. I couldn’t understand why Scarlett, who promised to marry me, ended up marrying another man. All of it made the past seven years—the three jobs, every penny sent to her for tuition, exam fees, and living expenses—into one colossal, heartbreaking joke. Bitterness, pain, and fury churned inside me. I tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep. It wasn’t until dawn that my phone finally rang. I groggily answered, and Scarlett’s voice came through the line. “Ash, where are you? Are you still at our firm?” “I forgot to tell you I went for an out-of-town training session. It was a closed program, no phones allowed. I just got mine back.” “I’m booking a ticket back right now. Wait for me.” Scarlett’s urgent tone on the phone would have sounded like genuine concern to anyone. If I hadn’t personally received her wedding favors, I might have drowned in her deceptive excuses once again. Thinking back, in the year since she joined Sterling & Co., she’d frequently ended our video calls and canceled our dates with various excuses: training, business trips, client meetings. I’d occasionally get upset, but she’d always soothe me with a few words. Now, I realized I’d been a complete fool. I clutched my phone, the questions I wanted to ask ready on my tongue, but just as I was about to speak, a muffled male voice drifted from the receiver. “Wifey, still on the phone in the middle of the night?” “Did Dad give you another case? Such a hassle, can’t even enjoy our honeymoon in peace…” The voice sounded strangely familiar. I thought I’d heard it a few times before on her calls. She had betrayed me long ago. Scarlett must have stepped outside, muffling the receiver. I didn’t hear another word of what followed. “Ash?” She cautiously called my name. I stared into the dark hallway, my eyes stinging with unshed tears. “Scarlett Reed, were you really at a training?” A long silence stretched on the other end, broken only by her soft sigh. “You’re doing it again.” “Ash, I know you’re exhausted because of your aunt’s situation, which is why you’re being so suspicious.” “Alright, I’ll rush back first thing tomorrow morning. Be good, go to sleep.” Before I could say another word, Scarlett abruptly hung up, leaving only a dial tone echoing in my ear. The next morning, I saw Scarlett, looking disheveled, rushing towards me outside the law firm. She hadn’t even had time to change into her professional attire, her face etched with concern. “Ash, I’m so sorry, so sorry. It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have gone on that business trip now.” Her familiar embrace and warmth made my nose sting. When I saw the marks on her neck, my already cold heart gave a painful twitch. Scarlett, seeing my distraught state, simply assumed I was worried about my mother’s case. After briefly asking about the situation, she pulled me into the law firm, saying she’d ask her colleagues for a referral. I followed behind her, overhearing a colleague ask her. “Attorney Reed, who is this?” “Oh, just a cousin from back home, here for some personal business.” I clenched the case files in my hand and lowered my head, a bitter laugh escaping me. After she finished speaking with her colleague, I walked over and took Scarlett’s hand. “Cousin, shall we go?” Scarlett froze, her hand trembling uncontrollably, her expression panicked. “Cousin, why aren’t you moving? Did I say it wrong?” The colleague across from us looked at our clasped hands, deep in thought. Scarlett snapped out of it, pulling her hand away from mine. She gave an awkward laugh and led me out of the office area. Once outside, she pulled me into a secluded corner of the stairwell. “Ash, I said you were my cousin because I didn’t want people gossiping about our relationship.” “Otherwise, during your aunt’s trial, there’d be endless chatter, and you wouldn’t get a moment’s peace.” Such a convincing reason, but behind it lay her recent marriage and the relationship that had long betrayed me. I instinctively tightened my grip, quietly pulling my hand away. “I understand.” Scarlett affectionately patted my head. “Good boy.” Scarlett claimed she’d help me find a lawyer, but she kept making excuses—either the collaborating lawyer was unavailable, or the case was too difficult and no one dared to take it. I knew she just didn’t want to get involved with my affairs, didn’t want my presence to affect her life. The day before the trial, I took the organized evidence to Scarlett’s office to make one last plea. I pushed the door open, but she wasn’t there. The office was elegantly furnished, with hardly any personal items visible. On her desk stand, there was an engraved pen with delicate script: “Law in Heart, Integrity in Action.” Signed, Grenier Thorne. Her new husband, the law firm owner’s son. The door creaked open. It wasn’t Scarlett, but Grenier. He paused when he saw me, then immediately understood. “You’re here to see Scarlett about a case, aren’t you?” Grenier took out paper cups and tea from a cabinet and made me a cup of tea. “Please, have a seat and wait. She’s in a meeting, she’ll be back soon.” His movements were practiced and natural. Then, he pulled a small, delicate crystal photo frame from his desk drawer and casually placed it in a prominent spot on the corner of the desk. Inside the frame was an intimate photo of them, and a date was engraved at the bottom of the frame. It was last New Year’s Eve. The New Year’s Eve Scarlett had stood me up. At that time, Scarlett had just received her bar license and was preparing to be promoted to lead attorney. We had planned for her to come home for New Year’s and formally meet my family. My mom cooked a feast, and even my sister took time off work to wait for her. But by six in the evening, with the food already cold, Scarlett called to say she had an urgent client case to handle and couldn’t make it back. I saw the angry expressions on my parents’ and sister’s faces. After hanging up, I had to calm them, “It’s just work, you know, she can’t help it…” But the disappointment in my heart was something no one could soothe. Now, seeing this photo frame, I realized that the “urgent case” was actually to spend New Year’s Eve with another man. Scarlett Reed, you truly outdid yourself. Seeing me staring at the photo frame, Grenier chuckled. “Looks like we’re very happy, right?” “On New Year’s Eve, my wife insisted we take this photo. She said to put it on the desk so she could see it every time she looked up, symbolizing that I’m always in her sight.” The joy in Grenier’s eyes was so thick it made my own eyes ache. “Your wife is truly romantic.” I suppressed the bitter churning in my chest and responded offhandedly, my voice terribly dry. “Indeed, she pursued me for over two years, you know. Even though we’ve only been together for less than a year, she was eager to settle down with me,” He chuckled, waving his hand, his tone full of pride. “She said you have to hold on tight to the person you like, or they’ll just run off.” “But honestly, couples who date for seven or eight years and still don’t get married—ultimately, it’s just not meant to be. Nine times out of ten, they end up parting ways.” Every single word was like an ice-cold needle, piercing deeply into my heart, prodding at the most painful spots. “My wife is one of the brightest young minds at our firm. When she handles a case, her thinking is clear, her methods are tough, and she’s never lost. If your family’s case were in her hands, it would be a sure win!” When Grenier spoke of her, his face was alight with pride, an expression like a massive stone, suffocating my chest, making it hard to breathe. Once upon a time, I too would brag about Scarlett to friends and family, gushing about how smart and hardworking she was, how she passed her bar exam on the first try, how she would become the most brilliant lawyer, my lifelong pride. But now, she was still the “excellent” person in others’ eyes, but no longer someone I could proudly speak of. Click. He pulled out a cigar and lit it. I was surprised. Scarlett hated smoking, saying it smelled bad and was unhealthy. He clipped and lit the cigar, then turned back to me with a smile. “Just to unwind. My wife doesn’t like me smoking these, but it’s fine as long as I don’t do it in front of her.” “She’s pregnant, and the smell might bother her.” A buzzing sound filled my ears. My breath caught. She… she was pregnant? So, principles could be selective? My heart ached as if pierced by needles. I picked up a dropped document from the floor and handed it to him. Just as I was about to speak, the door opened. It was Scarlett. Scarlett looked visibly flustered seeing us together. She gave me a deep look, then smelled the cigar smoke in the room and frowned. “What are you doing here?” “Are you smoking again?” Beneath her slightly scolding tone was an undeniable undertone of concern. I lowered my head, tracing the paper cup in my hands. It held only warm water, but it felt scalding hot, making my insides ache. “Oh, don’t nag me.” “You have a client waiting for you…” Grenier gestured towards me with his eyes. Scarlett coughed, then spoke, feigning calmness. “Come with me to the office next door, and bring the materials.” I followed her out. As soon as the office door locked, Scarlett’s expression changed. “Didn’t I tell you not to come looking for me? I said I’d keep an eye out for a suitable lawyer for you.” “Coming directly to my office like this, did you consider my situation?” “What did you say to him?” Scarlett’s voice was high-pitched, yet deliberately lowered, as if afraid of being overheard. “From the moment we met until now, you haven’t given me a straight look, not a single explanation, and the first thing you do is blame me.” “You betrayed our seven years together; how can you be so self-righteous in questioning me?” “What could I say? Should I tell him he’s the other man, that he interfered with our seven-year relationship, and let everyone know what kind of person you are?” Scarlett’s expression drastically changed. She frantically clamped her hand over my mouth. “Don’t shout.” “Ash, I’ll explain this to you later.” “For now, please, just go back, alright?” My tears streamed down during the struggle. Perhaps it was out of hatred; I bit hard into Scarlett’s hand. She yelped in pain and let go. “Why should I leave? Scarlett Reed, tell me, why should I leave!” “If this blows up, I won’t be the one who’s humiliated!” Scarlett pressed her bitten hand, her dark eyes filled with anger. “Ash, if you dare to cause trouble, no lawyer in Zenith City will dare to take your mom’s case!” The woman I had loved for seven years, through gritted teeth, used my mother’s case to threaten me. From the moment I discovered she had married someone else, I’d replayed our potential confrontations over and over in my mind. I’d imagined furious arguments, her admitting or denying, apologizing or begging. But I never imagined she would say something like this, to warn me. “Scarlett Reed, are you even human?” “Every penny you spent during your seven years in law school was earned by my hard work.” “I supported you through seven years of schooling, through your bar exam, through getting your license. I wasted seven years of my youth on you, seven years!” “Scarlett Reed, do you have any decency?” Scarlett’s cold gaze seemed to pierce right through me. “I’ll pay you back the money.” “But you can’t disrupt my peaceful life anymore.” Scarlett left, shutting the door with a bang. I watched as Grenier put his arm around her waist and they walked out of the law firm building. News about Scarlett and me spread like wildfire. I didn’t know what Scarlett had said. In the rumors, I was the “other man” trying to break up Scarlett’s marriage. The poor country cousin who came to latch onto high society. “I’ve never seen such a shameless home-wrecker before!” “I knew something was up when he saw Attorney Reed’s wedding favors at the front desk and looked so pale. Turns out he was just trying to worm his way in as the other man!” “Yeah, I heard he used his mom’s case to gain sympathy, even trying to emotionally blackmail Attorney Reed into getting a divorce!” “Attorney Reed already promised to help him find a lawyer, and he still bit the hand that fed him!” “Oh my god, you really can’t trust these poor relatives.” “He’s just jealous now that Attorney Reed is a partner and doing well. He wants to take a shortcut. He didn’t appreciate her when she was struggling; now who would want a man like him?!” I listened to the whispers from the law firm’s break room, then turned and roared. “I’m not, I didn’t!” “I’m not the other man!” My defense was swallowed by the chatter. Everyone started to shun me. Even when I tried to consult other lawyers, they all made excuses and turned me away. I don’t know why my mom heard some whispers in the detention center. Through the visitation glass, she asked me, looking frail, “Ash, did something happen?” “Don’t be afraid, Mom is fine. Mom won’t hold you back.” My mother’s words made me want to cry. But I knew I had to hold back. At least, I had to wait for my mother’s trial, to get a verdict. “No, nothing’s wrong. What could be wrong?” “Mom, don’t worry, I’ve already found a lawyer. The trial will definitely clear your name, and you’ll be out soon.” I lied. My voice trembled even as I spoke the lie. The trial date arrived. Without a professional lawyer to defend her, my mom was speechless, unable to respond to the opposing lawyer’s interrogation. Ultimately, the court immediately pronounced my mom guilty of negligent homicide, sentencing her to two years in prison. My mom collapsed in the courtroom on the spot and was escorted to the detention center by court officers. On the third day of her detention, I received a call from the detention center saying my mom had a sudden heart attack, and after being rushed to the hospital, she passed away. When I arrived at the hospital, I only saw my mom covered by a white sheet. In that moment, my world crumbled. Back at the detention center, everyone pointed at me and whispered. “Look how quickly karma strikes. What good can come to a home-wrecker? Serves him right!” “Indeed. Do enough morally bankrupt things, and retribution will come knocking eventually. He brought this upon himself!” “Why choose to be the other man and even show up at their doorstep? I heard the wife is heavily pregnant too…” “It’s a sin, serves him right!” “Hey? Wasn’t the wife that lawyer who came to see his mom?” “Seems so. I heard she’s the managing partner’s son…” “The wife must have gone to settle scores with his mom. No wonder his mom passed away so suddenly…” The whispers were soft, but I heard every single word.

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The Princess of Capital Society was a complete love-struck fool. To elope with a poor student. She slashed my face and threatened me with my parents’ lives: “As long as you get plastic surgery to look like me and marry the Capital Scion in my place, I’ll spare your parents.” As I desperately resisted, bullet comments suddenly floated across my vision: [Princess Sweetheart is so naive! She and the poor student will encounter a tsunami during their elopement. Not only will the princess be utterly lost, but she’ll also lose her protagonist status!] [The Capital Scion is the real male lead, but the princess is choosing this poor student side character.] [What a lucky break for this passerby whose face got slashed. If she agrees to the surgery, she can replace the princess and marry into a wealthy family for a good life!] I clutched my bloody, mangled face and made an immediate decision: “Take me to get the surgery now. I promise to imitate you perfectly, ensuring no one sees through the disguise.” Since she was handing me immense wealth on a silver platter. Then I wouldn’t be polite. … My words made the bullet comments explode: [No way, is this passerby named Fiona really that bold? She’s actually daring to replace the princess in an arranged marriage?] [If anyone finds out Fiona is an impostor with plastic surgery, their whole family will surely die horribly.] Well then, I’d just have to work hard to ensure no one discovered my deception. I asked the princess, Stella Song: “Just plastic surgery won’t be enough. What if someone finds out I’m a fake and drags you back?” As Stella frowned, I seized the opportunity to suggest: “How about you train me properly? Teach me your mannerisms, your fashion style, familiarize me with your hobbies, friends, and family, and so on.” “As long as you can make me imitate you flawlessly, 360 degrees, it’ll be foolproof.” Stella immediately agreed: “Let’s do as you say. There are still three months until the arranged marriage, so while you’re recovering from surgery, I can properly train you.” Once my objective was achieved, she unlocked the chains on my parents: “Fiona, if you had agreed earlier, your family wouldn’t have had to suffer so much.” At this point, my parents were covered in blood and barely clinging to life. Yet, they continued to beg Stella: “Spare Fiona, please…” Stella kicked them disdainfully: “It’s a blessing for low-class people like you that I chose Fiona as my stand-in. You should be thanking me.” I knelt beside my parents, a fierce hatred surging within me. Just because my eyes, height, and voice bore an eighty percent resemblance to Stella. Stella had mercilessly targeted me. My family was dirt poor. My parents had no relatives and raised me by scavenging. Stella wanting to torment us was easier than crushing an ant. Thankfully, these bullet comments appeared. They made me change my mind in time, saving my parents’ lives. As I lay on the operating table, The bullet comments were still wailing: [Can the princess hurry up and come to her senses? The Capital Scion is a rich, handsome, powerful CEO! I don’t want to see Fiona snatching this opportunity!] A rich, handsome, powerful CEO? That’s perfect. I endured the excruciating pain of bone shaving and flesh grinding, closing my eyes in anticipation. From this moment on, I would no longer be the pitiful Fiona. I would replace the love-struck Stella Song and become the true Princess of Capital Society. The Capital Scion she didn’t want to marry, I would. The good life she refused, I would live in her stead! The next day, Stella began an intense training regimen for me. “I was on the racetrack at eighteen. You need to get your driver’s license now, then spend three hours every day practicing your driving skills.” “Your country accent is absolutely dreadful. Hurry up and perfect your standard English and common language. If you embarrass my father in a big setting, I’ll kill you!” “Do you understand dining etiquette? Do you understand the rules of high society? Have you never had a manicure?” As Stella lectured, she started losing her temper: “I’m very particular about everything—food, clothing, housing, travel. You reek of poverty; how could you possibly imitate me?” I humbly placated Stella: “I can do it! Even if I don’t sleep, I’ll study diligently according to your demands.” I knew the gap between Stella and me was vast. But I wasn’t afraid. I forced myself to sleep only two hours a day. Besides practicing driving and standard English, I started learning English and financial knowledge from scratch. I also devoured fashion magazines, memorized all the designer brands, and followed online videos to learn etiquette. With immense willpower and determination. A month later. I successfully got my driver’s license, my standard English became fluent, and the timidity in my eyes diminished considerably. Stella was very pleased with this: “I didn’t expect you to be so serious. Let’s move on to the next stage.” She brought stacks of documents and photos: “This is my family’s lineage. You must recognize all these relatives. They’ll give me big red envelopes during holidays. If you mistake anyone, you’re dead.” “These are important business partners of the Song family. You need to flatter all of them perfectly, or my parents will be unhappy.” “These are the details and background of my fiancé. Study them carefully and handle him for me.” I stared at the photo of the Capital Scion, Arthur Verdi, setting a goal for myself. As long as I secured this man and bore him a few children. Even if someone discovered my true identity in the future. With the children as my trump card, I could at least ensure my life and my parents’ lives. As for my parents, they hadn’t received any medical treatment since they were beaten last time. Stella kept a close watch on me, not allowing me to care for them at all. I could only occasionally sneak back to bring them some medicine and food. “Don’t worry, once I become Stella Song, I’ll make sure you live a good life.” For my sake and my parents’. I was incredibly motivated, wishing I could utilize every hour of the day. As the scabs on my face gradually fell off, The poor student couldn’t help but worry: “Fiona looks too much like you after the surgery. What if she takes advantage and replaces you, stealing your assets?” The bullet comments were also anxious: [Side character, hurry and warn the princess! This Fiona looks malicious; her diligence clearly shows she wants to take over!] [Can someone tell the princess she’s going to die in a tsunami? I’m practically dying of anxiety!] Stella was unconcerned: “Can’t I handle a trash picker? Don’t worry, I have a plan.” She grabbed my neck, her voice sinister: “I’m giving you an account number. Once you’re in my family, all the money and wedding dowry my family gives you, you must transfer to me.” “If I find out you’re pocketing my money, I’ll immediately return, expose your identity, and make sure your entire family dies a miserable death!” With that, she pushed me away and, linking arms with the poor student, smiled sweetly: “From now on, the trash picker will continuously send us money. We can travel the world and be happy together!” I feigned agreement. But inwardly, I couldn’t stop sneering. If Stella knew she would soon die, and I would completely replace her… I wonder if she would still be smiling? Soon, as all my surgery wounds healed. My every word and action took on the air of a wealthy young lady. I learned skincare and makeup, learned how to dress fashionably, and how to put on airs and act spoiled. I could recognize every relative and friend around Stella. I knew the company’s executives and subordinates even better than Stella did. At this point, the wedding date was approaching rapidly. Stella couldn’t wait to put me into practice: “Tonight, my family is formally meeting the Verdi family to discuss the wedding. You’d better perform well!” The bullet comments were still clinging to hope: [I hope Fiona makes a ton of mistakes tonight and gets exposed as a fake. That way, our princess still has a chance.] [Fiona still has poverty etched into her bones. Arthur Verdi will definitely notice it. I’m waiting to see Fiona make a fool of herself.] The bullet comments weren’t optimistic about me. But I proved them wrong. From driving home and playfully charming Mr. and Mrs. Song, to helping myself and Mrs. Song choose dresses and makeup… Throughout the entire process. No one in the Song family questioned my authenticity. If I could pass the Song family’s test, I had even less to worry about with the Verdi family. Before leaving, Mrs. Song asked me, worriedly: “Daughter, have you completely broken up with that poor student?” “You were throwing tantrums about canceling the engagement before, and now you’re suddenly so cooperative. Are you plotting something again?” I imitated Stella’s tone, lifting my chin haughtily: “Mom, can’t you have a little faith in me? No matter how much I act out, I know how to handle important matters. I wouldn’t die of anger over some poor student, would I?” “Besides, Arthur Verdi’s looks are pleasing to my eye, so marrying him won’t be a loss for me.” My sweet, coquettish, and clever demeanor would make the real Stella Song bow in defeat. It brought a relieved smile to Mrs. Song’s face. “You truly are my good daughter. Here’s five million; go buy yourself a new car.” As soon as the money hit my account, I transferred it to Stella. Stella expressed her satisfaction and told me to perform well that night. When I sat down at the dinner table, Knowing Arthur Verdi was constantly observing me, I deliberately acted indifferent to him. During the meal, I was extra careful, avoiding all the foods Stella wouldn’t touch. It wasn’t until the conversation turned to the wedding budget that Arthur Verdi initiated a conversation with me: “My current budget is eighty million. Ms. Song, do you have any thoughts on this?” I sneered, a disdainful curl to my lips: “Eighty million to buy off a beggar? I spend more than eighty million on fireworks. If you want to marry me, please show the highest level of sincerity.” My arrogant, overbearing demeanor, as expected, made Arthur Verdi narrow his eyes in appreciation: “Alright, then I’ll plan the wedding with a budget of five hundred million, with no upper limit.” I slammed my hand on the table petulantly: “Sit closer, how are we supposed to discuss details from so far away?” “I want the best designer to create my wedding gown; I won’t wear it unless it’s fully encrusted with diamonds.” Arthur Verdi smiled knowingly and moved to sit beside me. The bullet comments gasped: [Fiona really imitated her to perfection! Neither the Song family nor the Verdi family noticed Fiona was a fake. What if she really marries Arthur Verdi?] [Can the princess please punish Fiona properly? I think this ugly duckling genuinely wants to snag Arthur Verdi.] The Verdi family was extremely pleased with me, immediately transferring an advance payment of ten million for the dowry. As soon as the meeting ended, I transferred the money to Stella. “Fiona, you did quite well tonight. It was practically indistinguishable from the real thing.” I thought Stella had lowered her guard. But then her face suddenly changed, and she slapped me hard: “Remember your place. A fake is a fake; it can’t become real.” “Your purpose in living is to marry in my stead, and then transfer money to me to save your parents’ pathetic lives.” With that, She actually dragged my parents out again. In front of me, she brutally broke one of my father’s legs: “If I find out you’re trying to replace me, I’ll cripple the remaining three limbs of your parents!” Amidst my parents’ screams, I wiped away my tears and, humiliated, bowed my head to her: “I’ll do whatever you ask. I will never covet what doesn’t belong to me.” Stella threw her identification documents at me, then took mine, and began preparing her elopement plan. Through the bullet comments, I learned that she and the poor student had arranged a smuggler’s boat and secured a house abroad. Meanwhile, following Stella’s instructions, I converted her valuable bags and jewelry into cash and transferred it all to her account. During this time, I also relentlessly paved my own way. Whenever I returned to the Song family residence, I would secretly collect strands of Stella’s hair, for future unforeseen needs. The bullet comments grew more anxious: [The more I look at this Fiona, the less she seems like a good person. I feel like the princess is raising a tiger.] [If only the princess had checked the weather forecast before setting her itinerary, she could have avoided the tsunami!] I counted down the days to the elopement, my heart pounding with excitement. As soon as Stella got on the boat and died in the tsunami, I would no longer have to live in constant fear. I seized every opportunity to get close to Arthur Verdi. However, Arthur Verdi was an inscrutable man. One day, he even said to me: “Ms. Song, you’re not quite what I imagined.” I used coquetry to mask my panic, asking him what he meant by that. “From my investigation, you were once madly in love with a poor student, even considering breaking off our engagement for him.” “What changed your mind and made you agree to marry me?” I scoffed, feigning disgust: “Can we please not bring up that destitute ex-boyfriend? How unlucky! Or do you have a cuckold fetish?” Arthur Verdi stared at me meaningfully: “Since you despise your ex-boyfriend so much, I’ll keep an eye on him for you, ensuring he never bothers you again.” I suppressed my inner panic, simply assuming Arthur Verdi was joking. In our subsequent interactions, I occasionally brought up the poor student, just to prevent Arthur Verdi from becoming suspicious. After a few more agonizing days, it was finally the day of Stella’s elopement. As planned, I stayed at Arthur Verdi’s place that night. I intended to take advantage of the situation to seal our relationship, while the bullet comments were live-streaming the elopement process. [It makes me so angry to see Fiona kissing and hugging Arthur Verdi! She’s here with a rich, handsome guy, while the real princess can only secretly elope by boat.] [Sigh, the princess has finally boarded the boat of no return. The tsunami is approaching, and my protagonist is just… gone…] Seeing the bullet comments announce that Stella’s boat had set sail, The huge rock in my heart finally settled. After tonight, I would be the real Stella Song! No one would ever harm my family again, and I wouldn’t have to be anyone’s dog anymore. Only endless wealth and glory awaited me in the future. I suppressed my inner excitement, about to continue my intimacy with Arthur Verdi. Suddenly, his assistant frantically knocked on the door: “Mr. Verdi, it’s bad! That poor student eloped with Stella Song! Someone saw them boarding a ship bound for overseas!” My body stiffened, and I completely lost my composure. I had calculated a thousand things, but I never accounted for this. Arthur Verdi wasn’t joking; he really was watching that poor student! If Arthur Verdi decided to dig deeper, I would definitely be exposed! By then, not only would all my efforts be in vain, But our family of three would also face a gruesome end… Just as I was in a state of frantic panic, Arthur Verdi looked at me, confused, then opened the door to question his assistant: “Are you sure that the woman who eloped is my fiancée, Stella Song?” “Yes! I received photos!” Arthur Verdi took the phone, and his expression instantly froze. The next second, he fiercely gripped my hand: “If that woman who eloped is Stella Song, then who are you?” My heart leaped into my throat. At the same time, bullet comments scrolled wildly before my eyes.

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