On the day my husband, Gideon, gave our son’s life-saving meds to his childhood crush’s cat, I stopped being the wife he hated.
Overnight, everything he disliked about me disappeared.
He stayed out all night; I didn’t ask. His flirty texts; I ignored them.
Even when we buried our son and he claimed a work emergency, I simply replied, “Okay,” and buried Jamie alone.
His assistant watched my pale face with unease. “Mr. Pierce is swamped, ma’am. He’ll rush over after the meeting.”
I remained silent, placing our son’s urn into the cold niche.
Just before sealing it, Gideon’s car screeched to a halt. Drenched from the rain, he rushed over. “Sienna! Why didn’t you wait? I’m Jamie’s father!”
My voice was flat. “Your work is important. Jamie would understand.”
His heart clenched at my calmness. He reached for me, but whispers from onlookers stopped him.
“Mr. Pierce only has eyes for Ms. Holloway. If she’d accepted his proposal, Sienna would’ve never married him.”
Gideon turned back, urgent. “Tessa and I are just friends! I swear!”
I handed him my umbrella. “I know. It’s raining. Use this.” I turned to leave.
He grabbed my wrist. “If you’re angry, hit me! Why make it so damn unbearable?”
Unbearable?
He used to hate my tears, saying men can’t stand women who make scenes.
Now that I was calm and understanding, why was he so upset?
1
I was about to shake his hand off when his phone blared, a jarring interruption in the heavy silence. Gideon frowned but answered.
“I’m busy. Whatever it is, it can wait until tomorrow.”
A tearful voice crackled through the speaker.
“Gideon, Mochi is throwing up again. Can you please come see him? Please?”
Mochi. That was the cat’s name.
Gideon’s eyes flickered to me. When I offered no reaction, he immediately replied to the call.
“Okay. I’m on my way.”
He hung up. I pushed myself to my feet. My knees, numb from kneeling for so long, buckled beneath me.
“Careful!”
He lunged to steady me.
I regained my balance and gently pulled my arm from his grasp.
“Go,” I said. “A sick pet needs care. Drive safely.”
I even retrieved his coat for him, holding it out with a steady hand.
Gideon took it, a sharp, unidentifiable pain twisting in his chest. He walked to the door, then turned back suddenly.
“I’ll be home for dinner tonight.”
“Okay. I’ll wait for you.”
Of course, he never came home.
I made four dishes and a soup. I waited from seven until eleven. I reheated the food three times before finally scraping it all into the trash.
At two in the morning, Tessa posted a new photo online.
【With you here, I’m not afraid of anything. Thank you, my guardian angel.】
The picture was of Gideon’s profile. He was frowning in concentration, giving a shot to a small cat, his expression focused and gentle.
I liked the post.
Then, I sent a message to my parents overseas.
“The cooling-off period for the divorce ends in seven days. I’ll accept the arranged marriage you mentioned.”
2
For the next seven days, I practically lived at the office, trying to numb my hollowed-out soul with grueling work.
My colleagues avoided my gaze, their whispers following me down the halls.
“She’s such a workaholic. Her son just died and she’s already back at the office.”
I said nothing, burying myself in spreadsheets.
Tessa walked by with a coffee, pausing deliberately beside my desk.
“Sienna, darling, don’t overdo it. Your health is important.”
Her voice was soft, but loud enough for everyone nearby to hear her add, “She’s so focused on work, she didn’t even notice her own son was sick.”
My fingers tightened around my pen. Gideon had never offered a single word of explanation about swapping the medication. He let the rumors fester, let the blame settle squarely on my shoulders.
During the afternoon board meeting, Gideon’s father, the chairman, suddenly slammed a folder on the table.
“Sienna, don’t think you can do whatever you want just because you’re my daughter-in-law!” he roared. “You worked for three straight days on a project and ignored your own son’s fever! How did our family end up with a heartless woman like you?”
I looked up at Gideon. He wouldn’t meet my eyes.
“Dad, this whole thing…”
“You shut up!” his father snapped, slamming his palms on the table and rising to his feet. “This is all your fault for spoiling her!”
He stormed over to me and his hand flew up, striking my face with a sharp crack.
“This first one is for killing my grandson!”
I stumbled back, my cheek burning. Across the room, I could see a triumphant smirk playing on Tessa’s lips.
“And this is for losing the company the Corbin account!”
He struck me again, harder this time. My ears rang, and I could taste blood in my mouth.
“When Mr. Corbin heard you don’t even care about your own son, he said he couldn’t trust a family with no humanity! He canceled the contract this morning!”
Gideon finally moved.
“Dad!” he shouted, jumping up from his chair.
“What, you’re still going to protect her?”
Gideon spread his arms in front of me. “If you want to hit her, you’ll have to hit me first!”
His father’s voice trembled with rage as he pointed a shaking finger in my face. “You see? He’s still defending you! I’ve been too soft on you, let you get away with murder!”
The third slap never came, but I was already swaying. The world went dark, and I collapsed.
When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed. Gideon was sitting beside me.
“Tessa had a difficult childhood,” he began quietly. “Besides me, that cat was the only friend she had.”
He paused.
“Can’t you just let this one thing go? For us? Please?”
I closed my eyes.
“Sienna, let’s start over. Tonight, we can try for another baby. I’ll give you anything you want as compensation, I promise.”
I finally turned my head to look at him, my throat raw.
“And if I say no?”
He froze, his brow furrowing in annoyance. “Don’t throw a tantrum.”
I could still feel the stinging throb on my cheek. “I’m not throwing a tantrum. I just want to know. Do I still have the right to say no?”
3
His last ounce of patience evaporated.
“Get some rest. I’ll come back to check on you later.”
He left quickly. As the door clicked shut, I heard Tessa’s concerned voice from the hallway.
“Gideon, is she okay?”
“It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have asked you to bring the medicine.”
Gideon’s voice immediately softened. “It has nothing to do with you. She’s the one who can’t let it go.”
I stared at the ceiling as a single tear escaped, sliding down my temple and disappearing silently into the pillow. I thought I had cried myself dry in the days after Jamie died, but it seemed I was wrong.
The next day, a driver took me back to the Pierce estate.
As I walked in, I saw Tessa sitting on the sofa, laughing with Gideon’s parents. She was cuddling Mochi, and tied around the cat’s neck was the little silver bell our son used to play with.
The bell was one I had made myself for Jamie’s first birthday, with his name engraved inside. The doctor had advised me to get rid of his belongings after he passed. I had burned everything.
Everything except that bell. It was the only thing I had left.
“Oh, Sienna, you’re back,” Tessa said, standing up. “Mochi just loves this little bell. Gideon said Jamie wouldn’t be needing it anymore, so he let Mochi have it.”
I walked past her without a word and snatched the bell from the cat’s collar. The startled animal hissed, its claws raking across the back of my hand, drawing blood.
“Sienna, are you insane?” Gideon’s mother shrieked, rushing over. “It’s just a bell! Are you really going to pick a fight with a cat?”
“She’s right, Sienna,” Tessa said, her eyes welling up. “If you’re upset, I apologize. Please don’t scare Mochi.”
I clutched the bell, blood seeping between my fingers.
Just then, Gideon walked in. His face darkened when he saw the scene.
“What now?”
Tessa immediately went to his side, tugging on his arm. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have given the bell to Mochi.”
Gideon’s gaze, filled with reproach, landed on me.
“It’s a bell, Sienna. It’s not a big deal. Why are you making such a scene?”
He strode over, pried the bell from my grasp, and tied it back around Tessa’s cat’s neck.
“The world doesn’t revolve around you!”
I looked down at the plane ticket confirmation on my phone for the day after tomorrow, then turned and walked back to my room without another word.
The next day, I went to the office. My assistant informed me that Mr. Corbin was demanding a personal explanation from me. I nodded, picked up the file, and went to the conference room.
Mr. Corbin sat at the head of the table, his expression grim.
“Mrs. Pierce,” he said, his voice cold. “I hear you prioritize your work over your own son. How can I trust a business partner like that?”
I stood my ground. “Mr. Corbin, the circumstances of that day…”
“The circumstances are irrelevant,” he waved his hand dismissively. “The entire industry is talking about it. The Pierce daughter-in-law let her son’s fever rage while she was chasing a contract. I have children of my own. I have no respect for such a ruthless woman.”
The other executives in the room were whispering, their eyes on me. Gideon sat beside them, silent.
I took a deep breath. “What would you like me to do, Mr. Corbin?”
He pushed a glass of clear liquid toward me.
“Drink this. Apologize publicly. Say you were wrong to neglect your family for your career. And we’ll consider the matter closed.”
It was a full glass of whiskey, at least two shots. I have a sensitive stomach; my doctor has forbidden me from drinking.
I looked at Gideon. He averted his eyes.
“Mr. Corbin is offering you a way out, Sienna. Just take it.”
I picked up the glass, my hand trembling. Everyone was waiting for the show. Behind Gideon, Tessa was smiling.
I took a sip. The liquid burned my throat.
After the second sip, my vision started to blur.
When the last drop was gone, I turned the glass upside down.
“I’m sorry,” I said, my voice hoarse. “I was wrong.”
Mr. Corbin finally smiled. “Well done, Mrs. Pierce. Very sporting.”
I turned and fled to the restroom, where I collapsed over the toilet, vomiting until my body ached. Blood mixed with the bile, and I had to cling to the sink just to stay upright.
Gideon followed me in, his face a mask of displeasure.
“Are you okay?”
I rinsed my mouth. “I’m fine.”
“If you can’t drink, you shouldn’t have forced it.”
“Didn’t you tell me to?”
He was silent. He reached out to wipe the blood from the corner of my mouth.
I took a step back. “Mr. Pierce. This is the office. We should maintain a professional distance.”
His hand froze in mid-air.
That afternoon, Gideon’s father summoned me to his study. A new agreement was laid out on the desk.
“You will forfeit Jamie’s shares in the company,” he said flatly. “Furthermore, your position here is terminated. The Pierce family does not support freeloaders.”
I had been wondering how I would get Gideon to sign the final divorce papers. Now, it seemed, the problem had solved itself.
But just as my pen touched the paper, Gideon burst into the room.
“Dad! She can’t sign that!”
“What? Still protecting her?”
Gideon glanced at me, a flicker of guilt in his eyes.
“Tessa is pregnant.”
4
The pen slipped from my fingers, leaving a long, black gash across the page.
Gideon’s father stared, then his face broke into a grin of pure elation.
“Really?”
“We just found out. She’s two months along.”
“The timing… the baby will be born right around the time Jamie passed. It must be a sign from heaven.”
Tessa appeared in the doorway, her head bowed. “Sienna… I’m so sorry.”
My father-in-law had already forgotten I existed. He rushed to Tessa’s side, taking her hand. “My dear girl, come, sit down.” He beamed. “Two months! Gideon, you’ve finally done something right!”
I stood frozen, a roaring in my ears.
Two months. Jamie passed away just over two months ago.
Of course.
Gideon walked over and wrapped his arms around me in a gentle embrace.
“We can raise this child as our own,” he murmured. “It’ll be easier for you, don’t you think? You won’t have to suffer so much.”
I looked at him, and for the first time, he seemed like a terrifying stranger.
The three of them chattered excitedly about the new baby. No one noticed as I folded the agreement, tucked it into my purse, and walked out.
That night, I packed my things.
I had burned all of Jamie’s photos, keeping only a single small negative hidden in my phone case.
But the bell was still on that cat. I had to get it back.
I walked out of my room and saw Tessa standing in the doorway of what used to be Jamie’s nursery, holding Mochi. The room was empty now, and she was directing movers to bring in a large cat tree.
“This will be Mochi’s new playroom,” she said, smiling sweetly when she saw me. “You don’t mind, do you, Sienna? Gideon said it was a shame to let the space go to waste.”
I saw the bell, my son’s bell, tossed carelessly into a nearby trash can. My nails dug into my palms.
“Oh, by the way, there’s something else I forgot to tell you,” she continued, her voice syrupy. “Don’t blame Gideon. That day, Jamie and Mochi both started coughing up blood at the same time. The vet said they both needed the medication immediately.”
Her words hit me like a physical blow. Gideon had told me he hadn’t noticed Jamie was coughing up blood.
“Gideon agonized over it for a long time,” Tessa purred.
🌟 Continue the story here
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1
I couldn’t bear to look a second time at the monster in the mirror.
The strength and resilience I had maintained all these years collapsed the moment I touched the cold glass.
The artery was severed, blood dyeing a tub of warm water red.
I sat painfully slumped by the bathroom window.
Allowing my body to gradually turn cold and stiff.
When I opened my eyes again, I had become a soul floating into the living room.
The neighbors were laughing and chatting with my parents.
“Your Chloe is beautiful and capable. She was promoted to lead news anchor this year, wasn’t she?”
“The groom comes from a good family. I heard he’s a manager at a foreign company in the city. These two kids have finally ended their 7-year marathon and tied the knot.”
I felt strange.
Didn’t they know I was disfigured and had my legs amputated?
Even if they mistook my twin sister, Mia, for me.
But we both quit the radio station.
Then who was promoted to lead anchor?
Thinking of this, I felt a bit uneasy.
My parents looked jubilant. They exchanged a knowing glance and stayed silent.
After the guests left.
My father looked worriedly toward my room and lowered his voice.
“Good thing we didn’t tell anyone about Chloe being disfigured and amputated, otherwise we would have lost so much face today.”
“But letting Mia take over Chloe’s job, isn’t that unfair to Chloe?”
My mother suddenly threw down the broom in annoyance.
She sat on the sofa with her head down, wiping her tears.
“Isn’t it enough that she’s dragging us down? She still wants fairness? Who gives us fairness?”
“We are getting old, yet every day we have to carefully feed her, give her medicine, bathe her, and empty her bedpan.”
“It’s been five years. I’ve done right by her. Sometimes I even wonder why she doesn’t just die. She’s just torturing my old bones.”
My father kept nodding and sighing.
I simply couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
Five years ago, a massive fire destroyed my career as the station’s top anchor.
I specifically remember my whole body being burned black as charcoal, covered in blood.
My legs had to be amputated to save my life due to severe burn infections.
My parents practically sold everything they owned, spending two million dollars to pull me back from death’s door.
My father endured the pain of skin grafts to save me.
My mother and Ethan took turns massaging me day and night.
But the pain of rehab and dressing changes terrified me so much that my whole body spasmed.
Many times, I couldn’t hold on.
“Just let me die!”
Whenever this happened, they would cry and kneel before me, begging me to keep going.
Especially my mother. She said if I died, she would jump off the building.
In order not to disappoint their expectations.
I gritted my teeth and held on until now.
It turns out they wanted to get rid of me long ago.
Looking at my transparent body, I smiled bitterly.
Now that I’m dead, everyone is free.
I floated around the house in a daze for a few days.
On the seventh day, Mia and Ethan returned from their honeymoon.
Ethan’s $300,000 car was parked at the door; my parents felt very proud.
As soon as they entered, my father pulled Ethan to drink tea and chat in the living room.
My mother called my sister into the bedroom.
Mysteriously taking out a bank card, she gave it to her.
“Mia, there’s a million dollars in this card. Consider it the startup fund we’re giving you young newlyweds.”
Mia’s eyes widened.
“Mom, where did you get so much money? Didn’t our family incur a lot of debt for sister’s treatment?”
“And if you have a million dollars, why didn’t you use it to save sister? That way, her legs could have been saved!”
My mother quickly covered her mouth.
Secretly opening the door a crack, she confirmed there was no movement from my room before breathing a sigh of relief.
“Keep your voice down. The family isn’t in debt at all. This is from crowdfunding donations for your sister online!”
“We’ve already spent two million saving her; we’ve done right by her. But she’s severely burned all over. Even if we didn’t amputate, she’d be a cripple for the rest of her life!”
“Ethan comes from such a good family. Your sister being disfigured can’t hold onto him. We might as well keep this money to support you. Between two daughters, I have to save at least one.”
My spirit form trembled uncontrollably.
Frantically tearing at my own face.
It turns out my parents didn’t try their best to save me at all.
“Why didn’t you save me? I became like this because I saved Mia!”
I regretted it.
If possible, I would rather have never saved my sister.
What right did she have to steal my life?
My mother fell silent for a moment, then added:
“Fate plays tricks on people. We can only blame her bad luck.”
“Keep this card safe. It will let you hold your head high in Ethan’s hometown. You’ve had a sweet mouth since childhood. Between my two daughters, you are my favorite. You living well is better than anything else.”
I looked blankly at my mother, my heart shattered into pieces.
When it was time to eat, the mother and daughter finally dawdled out.
At the dinner table, Ethan finally noticed something was wrong.
“Mom, where’s Chloe?”
2
My mother glanced at my room, humming and hawing.
“On the day of the wedding, her emotions were very agitated. I was afraid she’d make a scene… so I gave her a mirror.”
As soon as these words came out, the atmosphere instantly became oppressive.
Mia turned pale with fright.
“Mom, sister won’t be able to handle it!”
Ethan frowned slightly.
“She… hasn’t come out for days, hasn’t eaten?”
The emotions suppressed in my mother’s heart exploded.
She slammed her chopsticks down, turned her head, and wiped away a tear.
“Even if she can’t handle it, she has to accept reality. She can’t keep running away. This is the perfect time for her to give up hope.”
“Looking like a ghost that even a dog would despise, how could she have the nerve to ask Ethan to marry her? How much longer does she want to drag us down?”
My father didn’t speak, just blindly drank his alcohol.
Ethan and Mia exchanged a glance and chose to remain silent.
Suddenly, I felt no emotion at all.
Staring blankly at my mother, I just felt she was a stranger.
“Mom, I’m already dead now. You can rest easy.”
The weightless sentence scattered in the air.
My mother looked up abruptly.
Glancing suspiciously at my room, she continued chattering.
“These past few days, I’ve been at her door trying to talk sense into her every day, even kneeling and begging her to open the door, but she just ignores me.”
“I don’t dare open the door recklessly, afraid of angering her further. Tell me, is this easy for me?”
After the meal, while my mother was in the kitchen washing dishes.
Ethan and Mia quietly brought a bowl of rice and knocked on my door.
“What are you doing?”
My mother suddenly appeared.
Extraordinarily angry, she snatched the rice bowl away.
Ethan felt somewhat helpless.
He wanted to take the rice bowl back but watched as my mother threw it directly into the trash can.
Ethan couldn’t help but get red eyes.
“Mom, what are you doing? When it comes down to it, we are the ones who wronged Chloe in this matter.”
Mia looked at my door and lowered her head guiltily.
“Mom, I feel terrible. I really didn’t do it on purpose.”
“That day the power went out, Ethan and I were drunk and lost control, accidentally knocking over the candle and starting the fire…”
“Mom, sister hasn’t come out for days. She wouldn’t do anything foolish, would she? I’m worried and want to go in and check.”
My mother panicked and quickly covered her mouth.
“Silly girl, you are newlyweds; you can’t cry.”
“A huge mistake has already been made; crying now is useless. Do not tell your sister about this!”
Ethan patted her shoulder gently, comforting her silently.
My father looked over, then lowered his head and smoked his cigarette.
I was completely dumbfounded.
They all knew and kept it from me alone?
Mia continued to sob, blaming herself.
My mother was both angry and anxious.
Walking quickly to my door, she pounded on it loudly.
“Chloe Sterling, how much longer are you going to torture your sister? You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”
“Don’t push your luck. The more we accommodate you, the more you bully us. When did you become so selfish?”
The piercing voice made my scalp tingle.
How long has it been since I heard such a loud noise?
Since I was burned, my emotions have become unusually sensitive.
They didn’t dare make any noise in front of me.
I remember once my father closed the door a bit heavily, startling me.
My mother was so angry she didn’t speak to him for three days.
She stayed by my bedside 24 hours a day, terrified I’d do something foolish.
But now, my mother was venting her anger, looking like she wanted to smash the door down.
“Mom, don’t be like this…”
Ethan couldn’t bear it and quickly came over to pull her away.
Mia haphazardly wiped her tears and also ran over to help.
Suddenly, she pointed at my door and exclaimed.
“What is that smell? It stinks!”
3
“The mirror!”
“Mom, Chloe didn’t do something foolish, did she?”
Realizing something, Ethan’s face was full of horror.
Mia’s face changed drastically; she lifted her foot to kick the door.
My mother calmly blocked the doorway.
Her face showed a tartness and meanness I had never seen before.
“Don’t go in!”
“It’s been so many years. If she really wanted to die, she would have died long ago!”
“Maybe she’s angry with me and deliberately soiled herself in bed waiting to torture me. She won’t be satisfied until she drives someone crazy.”
The more my mother spoke, the angrier she got.
She pushed them outside.
“It’s very late. You guys go back first.”
“As soon as you come back, she pulls this stunt on purpose. If you pay attention to her this time, she’ll definitely escalate her fussing in the future, giving you no peace for the rest of your lives!”
I have never felt such deep hatred.
A weeping ghost cry echoed through the night sky.
As they prepared to get in the car, Ethan keenly noticed something was wrong.
After the amputation, I had always lived in fear, calling her every day to connect.
But it had been three days.
Not a single questioning phone call from me.
Hesitating again and again, she tremblingly took out her phone.
“I’ll give Chloe a call.”
Just as she was about to dial, my mother snatched the phone and hung up.
Pointing at the silhouette in the second-floor bathroom window, she snorted disdainfully.
“She’s fine. She’s secretly watching us from the window now. Give him some time.”
“Alright, you guys hurry back.”
Everyone looked in the direction she pointed and breathed a sigh of relief.
I glanced at the dark silhouette in the window.
Silently crying tears of blood.
They didn’t know that was just my corpse.
It was early summer, and my corpse had already begun to decay.
Taking one last look at the second floor.
Ethan found something in the driver’s seat and gave it to my mother.
“Mom, this is the peace amulet Mia and I asked for Chloe yesterday. A master blessed it, saying it can protect her safe and sound. Please give it to her.”
“Okay…”
My mother nodded.
Waiting for their car to drive far away.
She hesitated for a moment, then decisively threw the peace amulet into the trash can.
My father was pale with fright.
“What are you doing? Didn’t you hear Ethan say this peace amulet can protect Chloe…”
My mother impatiently interrupted him.
“Give it to her for what? So she can harbor unrealistic fantasies about Ethan and ruin Mia’s marriage?”
It turned out that in my mother’s heart, my health was far less important than Mia’s happiness.
I cried, my soul almost dissipating in the night wind.
My mother didn’t return to her room but came to my door.
Knocking gently, she coaxed me softly just like before.
“Chloe, I know you’ve already seen from the window. Don’t blame Mom for being cruel. Looking like this, it’s already impossible between you and Ethan.”
“Be good. Open the door and let Mom in to help you bathe. If you don’t clean yourself, your skin will rot.”
“Good child, consider it Mom begging you.”
No matter how softly she pleaded, there was no movement in my room.
Until my father’s sigh came from behind.
My mother hastily wiped her tears and went back to their room with him.
Closing the door.
My father didn’t know how to comfort her, jokingly saying:
“I thought you only cared about Mia.”
To his surprise, my mother’s tears fell even harder.
“What nonsense are you talking about? The palms and backs of hands are all meat. I was just venting my emotions earlier.”
“Calling me Mom means a lifetime of responsibility. No matter how hard it is, I will never abandon Chloe.”
Saying this, my mother brought out the bankbook.
As if making a difficult decision, she smiled bitterly.
“I never thought of abandoning Chloe. I’ve already contacted plastic surgery experts from out of state. They’ll come tomorrow to treat her. At least give her hope to keep living.”
My father frowned.
“This is our retirement money. Chloe has already had her limbs amputated. What’s the point of spending money on plastic surgery?”
My mother got angry.
Standing up abruptly, she pointed at my father and yelled.
“Because she is the child I carried for ten months! Anyone can abandon her, but we can’t!”
“Chloe only has us now.”
By the last sentence, my mother was already sobbing uncontrollably.
My father thought for a moment, then nodded helplessly.
Looking at their faces full of hardship and helplessness, my heart was filled with mixed feelings.
I remember when I first got my prosthetics, my mother knelt on the ground holding my feet.
My father supported my body, moving step by step for rehab therapy.
Every day I was in so much pain I sweated profusely.
My parents were also exhausted, panting heavily.
It seems that from then on, their backs remained hunched, never to straighten again.
I covered my face, shaking my head painfully.
Mom, keep the money.
I don’t need it anymore, and I will never be your burden again.
The next day, the medical team arrived.
My mother paced anxiously outside my door.
“Chloe, open the door. The doctors are here to do your plastic surgery.”
Trying several times, she found the door was locked from the inside.
But the putrid smell in the room grew stronger. The doctors couldn’t stand it and wanted to leave.
My mother panicked.
Quickly calling Ethan and the others.
“Ethan, Mia, come quickly! Your sister is being too unreasonable, she even locked the door. I remember you have the key.”
Twenty minutes later, they arrived in a rush.
The moment the door opened, everyone widened their eyes in horror.
4
A smell of blood mixed with a rotting stench hit their faces.
Everyone present couldn’t help but run to the door and dry heave.
My mother pushed through the crowd and entered, instantly collapsing onto the floor.
The bloody water flowing from the bathroom deeply pierced her eyes.
She rushed into the bathroom like a madwoman.
Ethan frowned in disgust, supporting Mia as they quickly followed.
The corpse had already reached the state of bloating.
Eyeballs protruding, lips turned outward.
The skin was bloody from the maggots gnawing on it.
My mother trembled and grew cold all over, kneeling on the ground in a breakdown, howling in pain.
“Ah, Chloe, my child!”
“Chloe…”
Mia covered her mouth in terror, hiding in Ethan’s arms with a pale face.
Ethan stood frozen in place like ice.
My father realized something was wrong and also rushed in in a panic.
The cigarette in his hand fell to the ground the moment he saw my corpse.
It was very light, but very heavy.
I suddenly wanted to laugh.
Didn’t they think I was a burden?
Now that I’m dead, what’s the meaning of putting on this show?
The people present helped call the police.
The house was already in a chaotic mess.
Even the neighbors gathered around, whispering to each other, looking at them with changed expressions.
“What’s going on? Didn’t Chloe just get married a few days ago? Whose corpse is this?”
“Look at the woman holding Ethan. She has a mole on her ear, seems only their younger daughter Mia has that.”
I stared straight at my mother, waiting to see how she would explain.
She just kept crying, completely afraid to look up.
The police arrived quickly.
The medical examiner preliminarily determined I had been dead for more than three days.
My mother stood up abruptly, gasping.
“So, it was on the day of Mia’s wedding that she…”
The medical examiner noticed the mirror shards by my feet and couldn’t help but frown.
“I heard the deceased is your eldest daughter, severely burned, disfigured, and amputated. Why did you put a mirror in her room? This is very dangerous!”
“For someone who worked in radio, being disfigured is equivalent to losing half her life. You didn’t put the mirrors away, but brought one out to deliberately trigger her?”
Seeing the mirror again, I felt a wave of dizziness.
Actually, I knew I was disfigured, and must be very ugly.
But when I saw my hideous face, and that the two misplaced holes were actually my nostrils.
My psychological defenses collapsed.
In utter despair, I took the path of no return.
The moment I cut my wrist hurt, but for me, it was an unprecedented relief.
My mother knelt heavily on the ground again, crying and beating her chest.
“I gave her the mirror. It’s been five years, I thought she should be able to accept it by now…”
“Chloe, Mom didn’t really want you to die. Those were words spoken in anger!”
The medical examiner looked at my corpse, a look of pity in his eyes.
Turning his head to reprimand:
“For her, this kind of emotional trauma lasts a lifetime. It’s highly likely she struggled between life and death every day.”
The emotions that had been blocking my heart burst because of the medical examiner’s words.
He was right. Just staying alive had exhausted all my strength.
I wasn’t being manipulative, nor was I pushing my luck.
I just couldn’t control myself.
My father looked at the bloodstained mirror in the medical examiner’s hand in shock, unable to hold back his tears.
Ethan’s heart was enveloped by an immense guilt.
He couldn’t help clenching his fists.
Actually, when he helped me change my prosthetics, I had seen the disgust on his face countless times.
I proposed breaking up; he was the one who disagreed.
That day I rushed out just to ask clearly.
I really never thought of dragging anyone down.
But later, when emotions took over, I despaired.
The medical examiner sighed helplessly, preparing to carry my corpse away.
Just then, Mia pointed at my hand and exclaimed.
“Look, sister has something in her hand!”
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My roommate got pregnant from messing around with guys and chose to secretly have a medical abortion in our dorm room.
When I found her, the dorm floor was covered in blood, and she was lying in a pool of blood, barely breathing.
To save her, I called 911.
I never expected that because of this, she would be expelled from school.
After everything was settled, my roommate invited me to dinner to express her “gratitude.”
I didn’t expect her to add asbestos fibers to my Coke.
Blood clogged my trachea, and she watched me thrash in a death struggle on the floor.
She laughed maniacally and said:
“Who asked you to be so nosy, letting everyone know about my pregnancy and getting me expelled.”
When I woke up again, I had returned to the day before I caught my roommate secretly having an abortion in the dorm.
1
“Chloe, you guys are all going home tomorrow, right?”
Fiona’s probing question reached my ears, pulling me back to reality from my daze.
The sensation of my throat being slashed by blades and the suffocation of my trachea blocked by blood from a second ago felt like just a nightmare.
“Yeah, we have a break this weekend. Everyone in the dorm is going home except you.”
I answered absentmindedly, simultaneously withdrawing my arm that Fiona was holding.
“I really envy you locals, being able to go home on the weekends,” Fiona said with an envious tone.
In my previous life, I temporarily returned to school over the weekend to grab something, caught Fiona secretly inducing labor in the dorm, and ended up poisoned to death. In this life, I will never let you get close to me again.
Today is Friday. After the afternoon classes, we all went our separate ways home, except for Fiona.
I definitely won’t go back to the dorm this time. Let’s see how you pin this on me.
On Saturday, while I was sleeping soundly, I was woken up by a ringing phone. I sleepily reached for my phone.
When I saw the name flashing on the screen, my heart suddenly tightened—Fiona.
In my previous life, you were the one who ruined my reputation and caused me to die full of resentment.
This time, don’t blame me for leaving you in the lurch.
I hit ignore, intending to go back to sleep.
Unexpectedly, the phone rang over and over again, all from Fiona.
Just as I was about to turn on silent mode, the phone screen showed a different name.
I answered the call: “Sarah, what’s wrong? What’s going on?”
“Chloe, I think something happened to Fiona,” Sarah’s anxious voice came through the phone.
“Oh? Tell me the details.”
“Fiona said she’s bleeding a lot in the dorm and asked me to go check on her. Can you come with me? I’m afraid I can’t handle it alone.”
In my previous life, after I caught Fiona secretly having an abortion, I contacted the RA for her and called 911.
As a result, she held a grudge. Vicious rumors were spread about me, my “nudes” were all over the internet, and finally, she framed me and killed me.
This time, I want to see exactly what you are trying to do.
“Sarah, you live closer. You go first, and I’ll rush to school right away. Don’t do anything rash before I get there.”
I was worried Sarah would do what I did in my previous life—contact the RA and call 911—so I specifically told her not to act rashly.
“Okay, Chloe, hurry up. I’m really scared.”
“Okay, I gotta go, hurry.”
After hanging up, I quickly got up, threw on some clothes, put on a baseball cap, and rushed to school.
When I arrived at the bottom of the dorm building, I found the ambulance had just left.
What’s going on with Sarah? Didn’t I tell her not to act rashly?
At this time, there were still quite a few people gathered in the first-floor lobby and at the dorm entrance. I pretended to be a bystander and asked a student nearby: “Excuse me, what happened here?”
“Did you just get back to the dorm? You missed this huge, fresh gossip. I took a video, I’ll show you.” Saying that, she opened her phone to show me.
In the video, a girl was lying on a stretcher, with Sarah following behind.
Wait, damn it, Fiona was wearing my shoes and my clothes, wearing my hat, and even wearing my sunglasses, covered up completely.
Fiona and I have somewhat similar builds anyway. Who the hell could tell that was Fiona?
I guess everyone in the school thinks it’s me now.
Seeing this, I hurriedly asked: “Excuse me, what happened? Who is this?”
“Seems like sudden severe bleeding in the dorm. I don’t know exactly who it is, but if we post the video and photos on the campus forum and the confessions page, we should be able to recognize who it is by the clothes and stuff.”
I hurried towards my dorm room. As soon as I reached the door, I saw a pool of blood on the floor, and the bedsheets on the bed next to the blood were also stained red.
Wait, a thousand curses upon her, this is my bed! Fiona used my bed!
Fiona is so scheming. Wearing my clothes and using my bed, this is definitely to make everyone in the school think the person who had an abortion in the dorm was me, ruining my reputation.
2
I forced myself to calm down. First, I took a picture of my bed in the dorm.
Then, I called an upperclassman: “Senior, the badminton tournament you mentioned last time is today, right? Can I still participate?”
“That’s great, Chloe. A contestant suddenly said she sprained her ankle this morning and dropped out. I was just stressing about not finding anyone.”
“It’s great that you can come.”
“Senior, there will be photos taken at this tournament, and they’ll be posted on the school’s official account, right?”
“What’s wrong? This is just the preliminaries, we weren’t planning to post anything. What’s up? You’re usually such a shy and low-key person, now you want to be in the spotlight?”
“But I can contact the school PR department to publish an article. However, it might be hard to find a photographer on such short notice.”
“Senior, I’ll contact the photographer. Please get the article out as soon as possible. By the way, what time is the match I’m subbing in for?”
“In 30 minutes, at the school gym.”
“Okay, I’ll be right there.”
After hanging up, I quickly changed my clothes and shoes, grabbed my badminton racket, and rushed to the gym.
On the way, I incidentally called a senior from the photography club, asking him to help take pictures of today’s badminton match.
The senior originally tried to decline, but was eventually bribed by me with two meals at a hot pot place.
Arriving at the gym, there were basically no spectators for today’s match, probably because it was the preliminaries.
“Senior, make sure to take good pictures of me, make them look nice,” I told him as soon as he arrived at the gym.
“You’re already very pretty, any picture of you will look good.”
After the match, I asked the senior if he got the shots. After getting a positive answer, I took a taxi to the hospital.
In the car, I scrolled through the campus confessions page and the campus forum.
As expected, the campus forum and confessions page were filled with videos and photos taken by bystanders this morning from various angles and perspectives.
[Who is this? What happened? Even an ambulance came?]
[Don’t know exactly what happened. Heard she bled a lot in the dorm.]
[Did she give birth in the dorm, or have an abortion?]
[Oh no, sister, I live on that floor. If it’s true, how can we live there in the future?]
[Does anyone know who this is? Begging for solid proof.]
[Should be from Department A. The people living in that hall are from Department A, but don’t know which specific class.]
Fortunately, no one has recognized who it is yet. As long as the article about me participating in the badminton match is published tonight, no matter how much Fiona tries to frame me, it will be impossible.
Suddenly, a notification from the campus forum made me lose my calm.
#Suspected Department A Chloe Lin gives birth in dorm#
I suppressed my trembling hands from anger and clicked on the message. Under the huge headline, someone posted a picture of my student ID card, with the caption: This morning, the girl involved in the incident at Plum Hall is Chloe Lin from Department A. The ID card dropped from the stretcher.
I was instantly thrust into the center of the storm.
[So it’s her. I was wondering why those clothes looked so familiar today. They are her clothes.] They even attached a photo of me wearing those clothes from my social media.
[Always dressing up flashily, you can tell at a glance she’s not a proper girl. Who knows how wild she usually is, and now she actually gave birth in the dorm.]
I quickly called the senior: “Senior, have you seen the campus forum?”
“Chloe, I just finished getting busy. What campus forum? What’s wrong?”
“I was just about to call you. The senior from the photography club said his camera memory card broke, and the photos are gone. Let’s just skip the official account post this time, it’s just the preliminaries anyway.”
“Broke? Why would it break? Did anyone else take photos?” I said, holding back tears.
“No, there were hardly any people in the gym today, and I was too busy, so I didn’t take any. What’s wrong, Chloe? You don’t sound right. Is something the matter?”
“It’s nothing, thank you, senior.” Hanging up the phone, I called the photography senior.
“I’m sorry, Chloe. I saw the campus forum. I really want to help you, but after taking the photos, when I went back to the dorm, I dropped and broke the camera. All the photos on the memory card are gone. I’m really, really sorry.”
“Is there really no other way to recover them? I’m begging you, senior.”
“I’ve tried everything, nothing works. It’s not that I don’t want to help you, Chloe.”
3
Hanging up the phone, I slumped back into the car seat. Fiona had played a masterful game.
We have similar builds. Before leaving the dorm, she wore my clothes, my hat, and even stole my student ID, pretending to drop it. This was the best proof to exonerate herself.
“Good, good, very good.”
My mind raced, trying to figure out other ways to prove that the person wasn’t me.
The hospital. Yes, the hospital. As long as I can get her medical records from the hospital, that will be enough.
After getting out of the car, I sprinted all the way to the inpatient department. In the car, I had already received a message from Sarah and knew which room Fiona was in.
I rushed into the room. Only Sarah was there. Fiona had just finished surgery and hadn’t woken up yet.
While she was still unconscious, I called and notified the RA and the other two roommates.
I also took a picture of her lying in the hospital bed. I even found her medical record in the drawer and took a picture of that too, and casually posted it on my social media.
I held a position in the student council, so posting on my social media would definitely be seen by a lot of people.
I refuse to believe that with such solid evidence, she can still harm me.
However, I still underestimated the malice of human nature.
Within half an hour of posting, the post had over a hundred likes and dozens of comments.
Some people even took screenshots of my post and sent them to the large school group chats.
[Who exactly had an abortion? How come two people suddenly appeared?]
[Neither of them is innocent. I bet both of them have had multiple abortions, they just got caught this time.]
Fiona has always maintained an “innocent campus belle” persona at school. This time she threw all the dirty water on me.
Even if I can’t completely clear my name, I won’t let you have an easy time either.
While Fiona was still unconscious, I told my roommates and the RA about what was happening on the campus forum and confessions page.
I specifically emphasized that Fiona wore my clothes, my hat, and accidentally took my student ID.
When Fiona woke up and saw the roommates and the RA were all there, a flash of an expression I couldn’t understand crossed her face.
I showed her the picture of the dorm bed and confronted her.
“Fiona, you were lying on my bed, wearing my clothes and my hat. What were you trying to do?” “Trying to throw dirty water on me?”
Fiona looked at me pitifully: “Chloe, how could you think of me like that?”
“Is that the kind of person I am in your heart? I’ve been your roommate for three years, don’t you know me by now?” Saying that, Fiona started crying hypocritically.
“Then tell me, what exactly happened?”
“You know my bed is on the top bunk. I was feeling unwell and couldn’t climb up, so I slept in your bed.”
“What about the clothes, the hat, and the student ID?”
“I was bleeding a lot, my clothes and pants were soaked. I thought if the ambulance came and I was covered in blood, I didn’t want the students at school to overthink, so I asked Sarah to find some clothes to help me change into.
“Sarah saw some clothes right next to the bed and helped me put them on.
“The student ID might have originally been in the clothes and accidentally fell out on the way.”
“That is really quite a coincidence. A coincidence that you not only wore my clothes and shoes, put on my hat and sunglasses, but even my student ID fell out halfway.”
“Fiona probably didn’t do it on purpose either.” The RA’s face turned green and pale, like a chameleon.
“I will handle the posts on the campus forum and confessions page.
“Chloe, come out for a second. Let’s chat, and I’ll go downstairs to get Fiona’s medicine along the way.”
After the RA called me out, she was still speaking up for Fiona: “Chloe, Fiona is in a very bad state right now. She probably didn’t do it on purpose either. You guys live in the same dorm, don’t be so aggressive. I’ll handle the news online immediately and guarantee it won’t affect you. I also hope you delete your social media post.”
“Miss, you first handle the news about me on the campus forum and confessions page, and then I’ll delete my post.”
“Okay, I’ll handle it immediately.”
When I came back, the expressions on the faces of the few people were all a bit unnatural.
I was alert in my heart. They must have discussed something when I left. They must be thinking about how to continue framing me.
4
During the few days Fiona was hospitalized, the RA quickly controlled the public opinion and made those people delete all the posts.
The other roommates also synchronized their stories, saying Fiona just had severe bleeding due to menstrual irregularity.
But all the roommates had seen Fiona’s medical record; everyone knew the real reason for her hospitalization.
Yet, everyone kept their mouths shut about it. The school also disciplined and publicly announced the key figures who posted about me on the campus forum and confessions page. Everyone stopped talking about the rumors surrounding this incident.
On the day Fiona was discharged, I didn’t go to pick her up. When she returned with the other two roommates, I was packing my luggage.
“Chloe, why are you packing? Where are you going?”
“Oh, my mom told me to move back home. I’m not living in the dorm anymore.”
“Ah, that’s so inconvenient. Just stay in the dorm, we can all look out for each other. I haven’t even apologized to you for this incident yet.”
Apologize. This time it’s apologize. In my previous life, she said thank you.
In my previous life, after Fiona came back from the hospital, she said it was thanks to my timely arrival and sending her to the hospital that her life was saved. She acted like we were twins.
We did everything together, even showered together.
Blame my previous life for being too soft-hearted and naive. I innocently believed Fiona truly considered me a good friend and was completely fooled by her.
I never expected that she would instruct Mia to secretly take nude photos of me, find some pornographic videos, photoshop my face onto them, and make me infamous at school.
The rumors about my chaotic private life and abortion were directly confirmed. I couldn’t defend myself at all.
This time, I’m staying far away.
If I can’t afford to provoke you, can’t I hide?
Thinking of the humiliation from my previous life, a surge of uncontrollable anger and sorrow rose from the bottom of my heart, but my face remained normal.
“Chloe, how about you stay for another week before moving? I just got back from the hospital, I’ll probably have to trouble you guys to bring me food and stuff.”
Fiona settled for the next best thing.
I still refused.
Living here, I eventually have to change clothes and shower. Who knows which corner your camera might be hidden in.
To persuade me, the three of them united their front again, using moral kidnapping on me.
Mia stood next to Fiona, looking righteous: “Exactly, Fiona just got back and still needs our care. We are all roommates, what’s the big deal with helping out?”
Sarah stood aside and said softly: “Chloe, how about waiting a bit longer? I’ll help you move then.”
Saying that, Mia started taking things out of my suitcase.
“What are you doing? Who told you to touch my stuff?”
My face darkened, and I shoved Mia away.
“If you want to take care of her, then take care of her by yourself.
“If you can’t handle it, do you want me to call Fiona’s mom and have her come take care of her?”
I bet Fiona wouldn’t dare. At the hospital, Fiona begged the RA for a long time to convince her not to notify her parents.
At this moment, all three of them froze in place. Perhaps none of them expected that the previously amiable me would be so aggressive.
“Forget it, Mia. I don’t need your care, I can manage on my own. Don’t worry about whether I live or die. I can just buy cup noodles and eat them in the dorm.”
This manipulative act made me feel sick to my stomach.
“How can that be? Your body is weak right now, how can you eat cup noodles? Besides, we promised to take good care of you,” Mia said.
“Promised, promised who?”
“No, I promised Fiona I would take good care of her. If you move out, it will just be me and Sarah taking care of her.”
“Forget it, since Chloe wants to move out, we shouldn’t stop her. But be careful when you move out,” Fiona acted hypocritically, wishing she could squeeze out two tears immediately.
Safety. It’s much safer outside than in the dorm. Living with a venomous snake like you is what makes me unsafe.
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The moment I found out I was the real heiress, I ran to the Ashwood estate to claim my birthright.
But after eighteen years, there was already another girl living my life—a “fake” heiress, coddled and adored.
My mother’s expression was a mask of indifference. “Rosalind has been with us since she was a baby,” she said, her voice cool. “She’s as good as our own. To avoid gossip, we’ll tell everyone you’re our adopted daughter.”
My father added, “You should learn from your sister. Don’t embarrass the family.”
And my younger brother, Tristan, shielded the fake heiress with his own body. “I only have one sister,” he snarled, “and it’s not some stray they dragged in off the street.”
Blood is thicker than water, they say. And they were right.
Rosalind may not have been my mother’s biological daughter, but she was my father’s. The man who had married into this family and its fortune.
1
The Ashwoods were less than thrilled about my return.
On the day I came home, my father didn’t even show his face. He was “away on business.”
My so-called brother Tristan glared at me with pure hatred, physically blocking my view of Rosalind as if I were some kind of predator. “Not every piece of trash that shows up at our door gets to call themselves family,” he spat. “She’s my only sister.”
My mother’s gaze flickered between me and Rosalind, her lips pressed into a thin line. Finally, she pulled the teary-eyed Rosalind into her arms, murmuring soft comforts. “Don’t you worry, darling. You will always be my daughter. We would never send you back to a place like that.”
Then she turned to me. Her eyes scanned my sun-bleached, straw-like hair and my rough, calloused hands. She tried to hide her disgust, but failed. “From now on, you two are sisters. Sparrow, you will learn from Rosalind. And try not to wander off.”
She added, as an afterthought, “As for that woman who raised you, I’ll give her a sum of money to ensure she disappears.”
That’s right.
My own mother planned to pass me off as an adopted charity case.
Because she was ashamed of me. I was an embarrassment, a blemish on their perfect family portrait. I couldn’t bring her the prestige that Rosalind did—the girl who was accepted into a top university at eighteen, who was cultured, poised, played the violin, and was engaged to a man from a family as powerful as the Ashwoods.
And me? I was a high school dropout, sallow-skinned and scrawny, with no talents to speak of and no knowledge of their glittering world.
By any measure, Rosalind was the daughter she deserved. And after raising her for over a decade, of course, there was a bond.
I understood it, intellectually. But it didn’t stop the knot of pain from tightening in my chest.
That pain sharpened into anger when Rosalind deliberately knocked my phone out of my hand, sending it shattering across the marble floor.
I’d had that phone for almost eight years. It held everything. Messages from the few kind souls who had shown me compassion, their words a lifeline in a world that had offered me nothing but cold indifference. On so many nights when I thought I couldn’t go on, I would reread those messages, drawing strength from them, piece by broken piece.
Now, all of that was gone.
My fists clenched, my knuckles white. I stared at Rosalind, a fire blazing in my eyes.
“Oh, sorry, sister,” she said with a lazy smile, her apology dripping with insincerity. “My hand slipped.”
I knelt in silence, gathering the glittering shards of the screen, trying to piece them back together as if I could somehow restore what was lost. It was hopeless.
“That’s enough,” my mother’s voice cut through the air. “Don’t be so dramatic. Your sister didn’t do it on purpose.”
I saw Rosalind’s triumphant smirk, Tristan’s mocking sneer, and the undisguised annoyance on my mother’s face.
In that instant, I knew exactly what I had to do.
I looked up. “I’m not angry,” I said, my voice clear and steady. “Does that mean she’s going to buy me a better one?”
My mother was taken aback, her face hardening. “Don’t make a scene over something so trivial. I have an old one you can use.”
I said nothing, just held her gaze.
“Fine,” she snapped, pulling a card from her wallet. “Take this and go buy yourself a new one. Are you happy now?”
I snatched the card from her hand before she could change her mind.
Seeing me fall further from our mother’s favor, Rosalind’s smile widened. She feigned concern. “I noticed you didn’t bring many clothes, Sparrow. Why don’t I pick out a few things I’ve never worn and send them over?”
“Or,” she added magnanimously, “you can just choose something from my closet yourself. Tomorrow, we’ll take you shopping for new things.”
My mother’s gaze softened as she looked at Rosalind, patting her hand approvingly. “You’re so thoughtful, darling. Just give her a few of your old things. She wouldn’t know what to choose anyway. We wouldn’t want her to ruin your good clothes.”
They stood there, a perfect picture of motherly love and filial piety.
It was sickening.
I stood up. “Where’s your room, sister? I’ll go pick something out now.”
2
Seeing the displeased looks on all their faces, my mood finally began to lift.
Rosalind watched with a pained expression as I selected several brand-new dresses, the price tags still attached. I could practically feel her resentment radiating across the room.
“That’s enough,” my mother cut in. “Two is plenty. Besides, your sister’s clothes won’t even fit you properly.”
Rosalind forced a smile. “It’s alright, Mother. Whatever makes my sister happy. She’s suffered so much all these years. She can have all of it, for all I care.”
My eyes lit up. “Really?”
“Sparrow, is that any way for a younger sister to behave?” my mother chided. “You just take and take! Have you no sense of humility?”
I remained silent.
If I’d spent my life being humble, I would have starved to death years ago.
When I was little, I’d scavenged for leftovers outside of restaurants just to have a full stomach. When I started school, the woman who raised me refused to buy me so much as a pencil or a notebook. When the teacher asked her about it, she swore she’d given me the money. I tried to argue, but she just called me a liar and beat me for it.
My teacher often took pity on me, buying me supplies with her own money. But the moment I got home, my foster mother would snatch them away and give them to someone else. After a while, I think the teacher just assumed I was making excuses to avoid doing my work. I’d be punished for incomplete assignments, forced to stand in the corner. So, I learned to survive. I’d rummage through the school trash cans, collecting discarded pages from other students’ notebooks and binding them together. Pencils were even easier; I could always find stubs the length of a thumb or ballpoint pens with a little ink left. A handful of those would last me a while.
Even my clothes were hand-me-downs from the neighbors.
I grew up terrified of poverty. Even when I started earning my own money, I could never bring myself to spend it on myself.
So when she practically offered her entire wardrobe on a silver platter, you bet I was going to take a few things.
Besides, she owed me.
My mother couldn’t stand to see her precious daughter upset for a second. “Don’t worry, darling,” she cooed. “Tomorrow, I’ll have the designer come to the house with his lookbooks. We’ll have some gowns custom-made just for you. It’s been a month since we had anything new made, anyway.”
A genuine smile finally returned to Rosalind’s face.
I poked my head between them. “Wow, really? That’s great! I don’t have anything to wear.”
“Didn’t you just take a pile of clothes from your sister?” my mother asked, her voice laced with irritation.
“But you’re the one who said her clothes wouldn’t fit me right,” I replied innocently. “And I’ve never, ever had a custom-made dress before…”
My mother fell silent, a flicker of guilt crossing her features. “Fine,” she sighed. “The designer can make something for you as well.”
Rosalind shot me a look that could kill.
But this was just the beginning.
Did she really think I was fighting over clothes?
I was fighting for what the Ashwoods owed me. I could live without their affection, but I wouldn’t be short-changed on what was rightfully mine. Every luxury I had missed out on for eighteen years—they were going to pay it all back.
3
I carried the dresses to the room they had assigned me.
It was on the ground floor, a converted storage closet next to the turn of the staircase. The space was completely empty, clearly cleared out in a hurry.
“You’ll have to make do with this for now, sister,” Rosalind said with a saccharine smile. “We haven’t had time to prepare your real room yet.”
I stared at the cramped space, making no move to enter.
Her lips curved into a smirk. “What’s wrong? Do you have a problem with Father’s arrangements?” she asked, knowing the answer. Before I could respond, she continued, her voice a low, mocking drawl. “He was being thoughtful, you know. He said you grew up in a hovel, so a big room would probably just make you anxious. He picked this one out for you himself before he left on his trip.”
“So,” she purred, “are you going to reject his ‘thoughtful’ gesture?”
I ignored her completely, my gaze fixed on my mother standing just behind her. I asked, with genuine sincerity, “Are we really that poor? We can’t even spare a decent guest room?”
“Back at my foster mother’s house, I had to sleep in the bathroom,” I continued, “but at least when they had guests, they got to stay in a proper bedroom.”
“You know what? Maybe I should just find a hotel. I wouldn’t want to put you all out.”
With that, I turned and headed for the front door, luggage in hand.
I knew they wouldn’t let me leave. The Ashwood family couldn’t afford that kind of scandal.
Just as I predicted, my mother’s face turned ashen with rage. Forgetting all about her afternoon nap, she snapped at me and pointed vaguely towards the second floor, assigning me a guest room. It wasn’t as large as Rosalind’s suite, but it was fully furnished and comfortable.
I moved in, completely satisfied.
At dinner, Rosalind pulled the same trick. Standing by the lavishly set dining table, she gasped dramatically. “Oh, dear! We forgot to set a place for my sister!”
The fake heiress couldn’t hide her glee. “So sorry, Sparrow. You arrived in such a hurry, we didn’t have time to prepare a seat for you. Why don’t you… eat in the kitchen with the staff?”
My mother acted as if she hadn’t heard a thing, letting Rosalind’s cruel suggestion hang in the air.
My eyes darted to the head of the table, where my father’s chair sat empty. Without a word, I walked over, sat down, and started eating.
My mother picked at her food for a few minutes before rising. As she left, she tossed a parting shot over her shoulder. “I’ll be gone for a few days. You two try to get along.”
“Of course, Mother!” Rosalind chirped happily. “Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to entertain my sister.”
She lingered on the word “entertain,” her eyes gleaming with malice.
My mother either didn’t notice or didn’t care. She just gave a noncommittal hum and left.
I didn’t care either.
What followed was all-out war. They put cockroaches in my bedroom; I answered with mice. They poured water on my bed; I got the garden hose and started a water fight. They locked me in the house; I shattered a window and screamed at the top of my lungs about a break-in.
My mother, forced to cut her vacation short, returned to a scene of utter chaos. For the first time, she directed her anger at her precious darlings. “There’s a limit to your games!” she seethed. “She may have been raised like a savage, but you two were raised by me!”
Rosalind and Tristan bowed their heads in mock apology.
My mother didn’t even spare me a glance. “Now that you’re in the Ashwood house, you will follow its rules,” she said coldly. “Leave your gutter habits behind.”
I rolled my eyes and pretended I hadn’t heard.
After they realized I wasn’t an easy target, Rosalind backed off for a few days. Of course, that meant my mother and brother simply ignored my existence, treating me like a ghost in their own home.
4
My father returned for Rosalind’s birthday.
He gave me a brief, formal greeting, telling me to see the butler if I needed anything.
Without missing a beat, I pulled a long, folded list from my pocket.
“I don’t really know what to ask for,” I said sweetly, “but you’ve given my sister such a wonderful life. So, I just made a copy of everything in her room. This should be enough to start. I’ll let you know if I think of anything else.”
My father’s eye twitched as he scanned the impossibly long list. “There’s no need to get everything at once. Your sister’s things were accumulated over many years.”
I immediately dropped my gaze, my voice filled with a carefully crafted disappointment. “It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t been away from you all these years, I wouldn’t have to put you in such a difficult position.”
The party guests nearby overheard, their interest piqued.
“You know,” one of them whispered, “this adopted girl has the exact same eyes as Mrs. Ashwood.”
“I heard she’s a dropout, didn’t even finish middle school. Amazing that the Ashwoods would take in an orphan like her.”
“Well, she’s landed on her feet. The Ashwood’s real daughter has that wonderful fiancé from the Harrington family. With the Ashwood name behind her, even this orphan will be able to marry well and live a comfortable life.”
My mother shot me a warning glance before clearing her throat. “We saw the poor child and our hearts went out to her,” she announced to the listening ears. “And it turned out her birthday is the same day as our Rosalind’s. It felt like fate. We treat her just like our own.”
The crowd murmured in approval, praising my mother for her benevolence.
5
Listening to them call me an “orphan” who “got lucky,” I could see my mother’s smile tightening at the edges. Despite their praise, the words clearly bothered her.
After all, I was her flesh and blood. Their whispers stirred a faint ember of guilt within her.
Her tone softened slightly when she spoke to me again. “Alright, then. We’ll furnish your room to the same standard as Rosalind’s.” She then looked at me, a hint of regret in her eyes. “You arrived so suddenly. If we’d had more time, I would have prepared all this for you already.”
“You are both my daughters,” she declared, her voice ringing with performative sincerity. “I would never favor one over the other. Whatever Rosalind has, you shall have as well.”
This declaration, of course, earned her another round of applause. She beamed, gliding through the party with renewed elegance, exchanging pleasantries with her guests.
Rosalind remained by her side, the picture of grace. But in a moment when no one was watching, she shot me a look of pure, unadulterated triumph.
You may be the biological daughter, her eyes screamed, but I’m the one who stands by her side.
I couldn’t have cared less.
This was the first real birthday I’d ever had, and I was determined to enjoy it. I piled my plate high with cake, as if trying to make up for every birthday I’d ever missed.
As I was taking a massive bite, Rosalind’s voice dripped with condescension from behind me. “You really have never seen anything nice, have you? I’m so tired of this cake. Here, you can have my piece too.”
I took it without hesitation. “Thanks, sister. If you don’t want your presents either, I’ll take them. After all, they should have been mine to begin with.”
“Hmph. Mother was right. You have no class,” she sneered, turning on her high heels and storming away.
She never did say whether I could have the presents.
Oh well. I’d just have to go ask my parents for more things.
6
The moment the new jewelry, handbags, and accessories arrived, I sold more than half of them.
Watching the millions deposit into my bank account, my spirits soared with the balance. With money in my pocket, I laid low for a while. I paid off old debts and hired someone to do a little digging for me.
It wasn’t top-secret information, but it was just what I needed to secure another windfall.
I could barely contain my grin. The universe really did have a sense of justice. After all the bitterness, the sweetness was overwhelming.
My grandfather had left me a hundred-million-dollar inheritance.
According to his will, his company would go to my brother, but his three hundred million in cash was to be divided equally among his three blood relatives: my mother, my brother, and me.
Could there be any better news?
Though the Ashwoods had taken me in, they kept me on a tight leash financially, claiming they were afraid I’d “spend it recklessly.” I had to justify buying a new pair of socks. Meanwhile, Rosalind’s allowance over the years had run into the millions.
Now, I was twenty. With this kind of money, I could finally move out. I could buy whatever I wanted without having to answer to anyone.
A lifetime of scraping by had taught me one thing: the only thing that truly matters is the money in your own hands.
That’s why I didn’t care about Rosalind’s taunts or Tristan’s hostility. I could even tolerate my parents’ blatant favoritism. As long as the money kept coming, everything was fine.
And now, with a golden opportunity like this right in front of me, how could I not seize it? For the first time in my life, I thought birthdays were wonderful. There was cake, presents, and a massive inheritance.
I immediately went to my parents to discuss it.
My mother looked troubled. “Before we knew the truth, I promised Rosalind that money would be her dowry when she marries into the Harrington family.”
“The Harringtons are a very important family,” she continued, her tone final. “A good marriage for your sister will benefit you in the long run. I’ve already made the decision. The money is hers.”
“Don’t worry,” she added, as if offering a grand concession. “You are my real daughter, and I won’t neglect you. When you get married, I’ll give you a dowry of five million dollars. How does that sound?”
She looked at me as if she were the most generous mother in the world.
From the sidelines, Rosalind added with the air of a victor, “And I’ll add another three million, sister. As a little something from me.”
“You’re too kind, Rosie,” my dear brother Tristan sneered, looking down his nose at me. “She’s just a country bumpkin. Give her a few thousand and she’ll be thrilled. What would she even do with that much money?”
My father adopted a paternal, concerned expression. “A girl like Sparrow will just marry some nobody. That much money would only attract predators. It would be safer if we held onto it for her. We can give it to her when she truly needs it.”
He looked at me. “Sparrow, what do you think?”
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After being with Lucas Frost for seven years, he said he was bored and turned to a younger, more delicate girl.
This time I didn’t make a scene. I threw away the ring and cut up the newly bought wedding dress.
I boarded a plane late at night and left the capital.
His friends bet on how long it would take for me to bow my head and beg for reconciliation.
Lucas smiled coldly: “Within three days, she will come back crying and begging me.”
But three days passed, then another three, and there was still no news from me.
Lucas couldn’t sit still any longer and called me for the first time: “Chloe, come back when you’ve had enough…”
But a man’s low laugh came from the other end of the phone: “Mr. Frost, you can’t wait overnight to coax a girl, otherwise, someone will snatch her away halfway.”
Lucas’s eyes turned red, and he gritted his teeth: “Put Chloe on the phone!”
Ethan Stone looked down and kissed me: “Can’t, she’s still passed out, I have to kiss her awake first.”
1
In the seventh year of being with Lucas Frost.
I secretly bought a wedding dress, mustered up the courage, and prepared to propose to him.
But unfortunately, I arrived a few minutes late at the gathering that day.
Just in time to hear him chatting with friends.
“You mean Chloe? I got bored of her long ago.”
Lucas lit a cigarette and smiled casually: “Seven years, wouldn’t you get bored?”
Those people laughed along: “True, seven years, even a goddess would taste bland.”
“But Chloe is really beautiful.”
“Her figure is great too. Last time at your birthday, she wore that bodycon dress, which man present didn’t stare?”
“Seriously Lucas, you cherished her so much back then, can you really let go now?”
Lucas’s voice was indifferent: “When have I ever lied?”
“Then… if I pursue Chloe, you won’t mind, right?”
“Go ahead.” Lucas casually blew a smoke ring: “As long as you don’t feel disgusted.”
“Pathetic, aren’t you ashamed to pick up someone Lucas is tired of playing with?”
Another burst of laughter.
I didn’t enter the private room that night, just made an excuse about a headache and went home first.
Lucas didn’t ask a single word more and hung up the phone.
The determination to break up was probably made that night.
2
Within two days, rumors began to spread in the circle.
Lucas was pursuing a sophomore girl from the Film Academy, young, delicate, and innocent.
His pursuit was always shockingly grand.
Just like when he pursued me back then, wishing he could announce it to the world, throwing houses, cars, and jewelry at will.
How could that little girl have seen such a battle? She fell for it within two days.
At a gathering organized by friends, Lucas brought her directly.
As soon as they entered, everyone went quiet.
A few girls who were on good terms with me looked at me with some worry.
I smiled, “Why is everyone silent, looking at me for what?”
Lucas put his arm around the girl and sat down, then looked at me squarely: “Chloe, today is a good opportunity, I’ll just say it openly.”
“Mm, go ahead.”
“It’s boring to break up and get back together all these years, feelings have faded long ago.”
I clenched my hands tightly, the ring on my middle finger digging deep into my flesh, but I seemed unable to feel the pain.
“Lily is young and simple. I really like her and don’t want to wrong her.”
Lucas touched the girl’s hair: “I have to give her a title.”
I nodded lightly: “Mm, I understand.”
“We’re still friends in the future. If you have any difficulties, you can come to me. As long as you’re in the capital, I’ll take care of your affairs as usual.”
“Better not.”
I smiled lightly and stood up: “Since we broke up, let’s make a clean break, save the girl from misunderstanding.”
Lucas raised his eyebrows in surprise, and said after a moment: “True.”
“Then you guys enjoy, I’ll go back first.”
“Let the driver take you?”
“No need, I’ll take a taxi.”
I walked out of the room. When I closed the door casually, I heard someone ask,
“How long do you think Chloe can last this time?”
“Two days?”
“She seems really angry this time, so I bet a week.”
Lucas glanced at the door that wasn’t completely closed and smiled coldly: “Within three days, she will come back crying.”
“It’s been like this for so many years, I’m tired of watching.”
“True, how can Chloe leave you? Who doesn’t know she loves you madly…”
I smiled self-deprecatingly, clutched my handbag, and walked quickly to the elevator.
3
Back at the apartment, I went to the corner of the walk-in closet and took down the wedding dress.
Looked forward to it for half a year to get it, but unfortunately, will never have the chance to wear it.
This wedding dress was custom-made and non-refundable.
Simply found a pair of scissors and cut it.
After all, keeping it here would only be an eyesore for Lucas.
When I finally left, I took off the ring and put it on the coffee table.
I didn’t take many things. Except for personal items, I didn’t want anything else.
Thought about it, and left a note for Lucas,
He can dispose of this house and everything in it as he pleases, no need to ask me.
I booked a flight for the early morning to Hong Kong.
My best friend married there before the New Year, perfect for visiting her to relax.
4
My best friend asked me out for shopping and afternoon tea.
There was also a small gathering in the evening, all former classmates and old friends.
After three rounds of drinks, someone else pushed the door open and came in.
Several female classmates’ eyes lit up immediately: “Ethan Stone? You are really a rare guest.”
“Yeah, big shot, why did you grace us with your presence tonight?”
“Just discussing something next door, heard old friends were gathering, so came over to join the fun.”
As Ethan spoke, his gaze fixed on a spot for a moment before slowly moving away.
My best friend pinched me quietly: “Chloe, Ethan came for you, right?”
I looked at that man with drunken eyes.
Taller than Lucas, wearing a black coat with a business suit of the same color inside.
Brows and eyes were very handsome, figure very stylish, legs super long.
I squinted for a while, then withdrew my gaze and shook my head: “Can’t be, we haven’t been in contact for years.”
My best friend ignored me and called Ethan directly: “Big shot Ethan, can I trouble you to send Chloe back later?”
“We’ve all been drinking, I’m not comfortable calling a ride-share for her.”
I looked up at Ethan in a daze.
Ethan’s gaze also crossed everyone and landed on my face.
After about two seconds, I saw him nod: “Okay.”
“Thanks, big shot.”
My best friend sat down smiling and whispered in my ear: “Chloe, sleeping with one man for seven years, doesn’t seem worth it no matter how you look at it.”
“If Lucas can be half-hearted and flirt around, why can’t you start a second spring?”
“Besides, a superb man like Ethan, it’s a waste not to sleep with him.”
“How do you know he will sleep with me?”
“The way he looks at you is almost stripping you naked, baby.”
“Trust me, I’ve dated eighteen guys, I have more experience than you.”
4 (Note: Chapter numbering in source repeats 4, continuing narrative)
Ethan drove me back to the hotel.
Downstairs at the hotel, I unbuckled my seat belt,
Thanked him: “Thank you for driving me back tonight.”
Ethan turned his head to look at me: “You’re welcome.”
I pushed open the car door, about to get off, suddenly thought of what Lucas said that day.
Ghost led me to speak: “Want to go up for a cup of tea?”
Ethan kissed me in the elevator.
I was already drunk, and being kissed by him so strongly and domineeringly, almost lacked oxygen.
“There’s surveillance…” I panted, cheeks flushed,
Legs so soft I could barely stand, could only hold his waist tightly.
Ethan glanced at the camera, turned around, changed angle, and kissed down again.
When swiping open the room door, he suddenly stopped me: “Chloe, if you regret now I can still stop.”
“Regret what?”
I looked up at him, fingers winding around his tie, pulling him closer: “You kissed my mouth swollen, now you say stop?”
Ethan suddenly laughed. He reached out, finger pad lightly rubbing my slightly swollen lips,
“Then even if you regret later, it’s useless.”
Our first time, Ethan didn’t even wait to enter the bedroom.
Back rubbing against the wall hurt a bit, I couldn’t help but bite him whiningly:
“Ethan Stone are you a beast, do you know how to cherish jade and pity fragrance?”
His hot palm padded my back.
Finally panted and kissed the side of my neck: “Chloe, I can’t hold back anymore…”
5
Five minutes later, I understood what he meant.
Ethan carried me back to the bedroom. I buried my face in the pillow, laughing non-stop,
“Ethan, how long has it been since you had a woman?”
Ethan looked at me with a dark face: “Quite long, busy with work these years.”
I looked at him in surprise, gradually stopped laughing.
After a while, tears suddenly welled up: “Sorry Ethan, I…” dirtied you.
“Chloe, what are you saying.”
Maybe because I cried, Ethan panicked a bit.
He flusteredly wiped my tears, but my tears couldn’t stop at all.
“I shouldn’t have provoked you.”
“But you already provoked.”
Ethan leaned over, he cupped my face and looked at me steadily, tone unexpectedly serious:
“Chloe, since you provoked, you have to provoke to the end.”
6
On the seventh day in Hong Kong.
Friend Jack from the capital suddenly sent me a WeChat: “Chloe, when are you coming back to Beijing?”
“No plans to return for now.”
“Everyone misses you quite a bit. Zhou is celebrating his birthday in two days, come back and gather.”
“No, help me tell him, I’ll send a gift back.”
“Alright then, take care of yourself.”
In the private room, Jack handed the phone to Lucas: “Lucas, look, why don’t you call Chloe? She will definitely listen to you.”
Lucas stared coldly at the few lines on the screen,
Suddenly stubbed out the cigarette and stood up: “Come back or not, better die outside.”
“Lucas… don’t be angry, Chloe must be feeling bad inside.”
“Yeah, she took off the ring this time, looks like she’s really sad, also you and that woman went too far…”
“We already broke up, what more does she want?”
Lucas suddenly got angry: “Listen well, no one fucking look for her anymore, not even if she dies!”
“Okay okay not looking not looking, don’t lose your temper, just hospitalized for stomach bleeding from drinking two days ago.”
“Only when Chloe was here you didn’t have stomach trouble. She’s only been gone for a few days, and you tortured yourself like this…”
Friends said a sentence, Lucas’s face darkened a degree.
In the end, he took his coat directly and slammed the door leaving.
Walking all the way downstairs, cold wind blowing on face, Lucas still felt the anger in his chest couldn’t dissipate.
That woman Chloe really has guts, seven days, not a single call or text from her.
Playing for real, huh?
Lucas cold-facedly pulled Chloe’s number into the blacklist.
You better fucking not come back crying and begging me.
Because this time, I will absolutely not be soft-hearted towards you like before.
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Eight. Eight toilets in this house, and I was on my hands and knees in the last one, the sickly-sweet scent of bleach and raw sewage clinging to my uniform T-shirt. My phone buzzed on the floor, pushing a forum post to the top of my feed.
“Second marriage to a wealthy man, how do I deal with a bratty stepdaughter?”
The suggestions flew fast, but one comment, already flagged with 9,999 downvotes, snagged my eye.
“Establish dominance. Go hard on your own kid—make an example of him. She’ll fall in line fast.”
I instinctively tapped the downvote button to push the number past ten thousand. No father could be that cruel, I thought.
Just as I set the phone down to scrub the final bowl, the bathroom door was kicked open.
My father, Gavin, stormed in. Without a word, he grabbed the heavy leather belt I used to hold up my too-big shorts, and the pain began, lashing across my back and legs.
“Did you break my razor? You can’t even clean a toilet without messing up. What good are you, you little waste of space!”
“No… Dad, I didn’t…”
I knelt on the cold tile, begging, but his strikes only grew harder, fueled by a rage I didn’t understand.
Through the doorway, my stepsister, Patricia, stood, her face chalk-white, as she timidly called out, “Daddy?”
The fleeting, ugly spark of pleasure on Gavin’s face was sickening.
“It’s okay, Patricia. Your brother messed up, and he needs to face the consequences,” he said, his voice suddenly thick with false concern.
Then he grabbed a fistful of my hair, dragged me toward the washing machine, and shoved me inside the drum.
As he walked away, a small, black and white cat named Snowball, who had been hiding behind the hamper, crept onto the touch control panel of the machine.
1
I slammed my palms against the thick glass door of the washer.
“Dad! The machine started! Let me out!”
“The water is coming in! Dad, please!”
I watched the doorknob turn. I clung to the glass, a surge of desperate hope flooding my chest. I knew he loved me. He couldn’t possibly let me drown in here.
“D—Dad…”
Click. The lock engaged—a sharp, final sound. Gavin’s roar followed instantly.
“Still lying! You’ll invent any garbage story to escape punishment, won’t you?”
“You’re going to stay in there and reflect on what you’ve done! You come out when you realize your mistake!”
The water level rose frighteningly fast, already sloshing above my waist. My forehead cracked against a sharp plastic ridge, and everything went black for a second.
“It hurts… Dad… I’m really hurt…”
I sobbed, the cold water mixing with my tears and flooding my mouth.
Outside, I heard Patricia’s muffled, crying voice. “Daddy, I hear water…”
“Don’t listen to him, Patricia!”
Gavin’s voice was suddenly loud, the tone laced with concealed satisfaction.
“Your brother is a drama queen. He’s an expert at faking distress to get pity. You must never be like him.”
The water passed my chest, then reached my neck. I clawed at the drum seal, struggling to gasp for air.
“Dad… please… just look…”
If you just looked, you’d know I was dying.
But all I heard was my father’s sweet, gentle tone.
“Patricia, you’ve been so good today. Daddy is going to reward you with some gourmet ice cream.”
Their footsteps receded.
In that moment, a raw, wrenching scream tore itself from my throat—a sound no one heard.
I don’t know how long passed. Just as the frigid water was about to submerge my head, my pocketed phone flickered to life. I grabbed it, adrenaline giving me a last burst of strength, desperate to dial 911—even a one-in-a-million chance.
My finger hovered over the screen when a new reply to the forum post popped up.
“That ‘make an example’ trick works wonders!”
“I locked my son in the washing machine, and the kid quieted down instantly. He even called me ‘Dad’ nicely afterward!”
The comment section immediately exploded.
“Are you insane? This is sick! That’s actual child abuse!”
“He’s sacrificing his own son to please a woman?”
“I’ve called the police! Get ready for jail, dude! Who puts a person in a washer?”
My father’s panicked reply appeared instantly. “What do you know? It’s easy to judge when you’re not in my shoes!”
“Do you know how hard it is to live with a piece of baggage like him? If I don’t please this woman, my son and I will be homeless!”
“He can take a little pain so we can have a good life. What’s the big deal?”
I stared at the words on the screen, and the hand I’d raised to call for help froze mid-air.
In my father’s eyes, I was just baggage. A piece of dead weight. That’s what I was—the poor, disposable kid you see in old movies.
I had no strength left to type. I simply stared at those three words.
I thought: If I’m not here, you’ll be much happier.
Then, Dad, I’ll grant you that wish.
A small smile touched my lips. Air bubbles gurgled from my mouth.
I remembered when I was five, burning up with a hundred-and-four-degree fever. Dad carried me on his back, running two miles straight to the emergency room. I was scared of the needle, clutching the fabric of his shirt. He squeezed my hand, his palm warm.
He said, “Sammy, be a good boy. Listen to your father. You have to live.”
But Dad, I can’t listen to you anymore.
My body slipped down with the current, curling up at the bottom of the drum. The only sound was the deep, terrifying roar of the machine’s turning drum. My awareness began to fade.
The drum lurched, flipping my body violently. The back of my head smashed against the metal wall.
But I felt no pain.
I sat up in the water, only to realize I was floating in the air.
Looking down, the washing machine was still spinning, filled with murky water and foam. A small, thin body was curled inside, bobbing with the current.
Was that… me?
I reached out to touch the glass door, but my hand passed right through.
2
Fear made me instinctively search for my father.
I floated out of the bathroom and into the first-floor living room.
No matter how many times I apologized or called out, my father only had eyes for Patricia.
“Why aren’t you eating, sweetie? It’s your favorite strawberry flavor.”
Gavin stroked her hair. “Daddy will buy you this every day, as long as you promise to be a good girl.”
Patricia burst into tears, dropping the ice cream cup onto the floor. “Daddy, I promise I’ll be good. Don’t lock me in the washing machine… I’m scared…”
Seeing the ice cream fall, I lunged to catch it, but my hand passed straight through the cold cup.
Gavin picked up the fallen ice cream, his smile growing. “Patricia is so good. Daddy cherishes you too much to ever punish you like that.”
Patricia nodded furiously, snot and tears smearing her face.
Standing behind them, I asked my father sadly, “Dad, didn’t you say you cherished me, too?”
He didn’t seem to hear me, simply wiping Patricia’s tears with tender care.
Just then, the sound of a key in the lock signaled the return of my stepmother, Tracy.
Normally, Patricia would rush to Tracy for hugs and demands, but today, she just called out timidly, “Mom.”
Tracy paused. “The sun’s coming up in the west? Why isn’t this kid throwing a fit?”
Gavin rushed to meet her, taking her designer handbag. “Honey, I told you I had a handle on things. Kids just need the right guidance.”
Tracy kicked off her shoes and walked to Patricia, reaching out to pinch her cheek. Patricia flinched but didn’t dare pull away.
“Well, I’ll be. You actually did a flip. I didn’t think you could manage her,” Tracy said, a rare satisfied smile on her face. “You really know how to discipline her. She’s usually wild.”
Hearing the affirmation, Gavin beamed. This was what all of it was for.
The three sat down to dinner, the atmosphere unnervingly harmonious. On the table was the sweet and sour pork ribs—my favorite, which Dad had promised to make for me if I finished cleaning the toilets yesterday.
Tracy paused, glancing around the room. Her brow furrowed. “Where is he? Why isn’t that kid eating?”
My heart leaped. I drifted closer to Tracy. Aunt Tracy, I’m right here. I’m watching you eat.
Gavin paused while scooping soup. “He messed up today. Broke my electric razor and then denied it.”
“I locked him in the washing machine to reflect. A little starvation will sort him out.”
Tracy looked toward the bathroom, then sniffed the air, her frown deepening. “What is that smell?”
Our laundry machine was a wash-dry combo. With hot water and the dryer setting running, my body had already begun to putrefy.
Tracy put down her fork and started walking toward the bathroom. “I’ll check the toilet. That smell is way too strong. It must be clogged.”
Smack. Gavin slammed the ladle down on the table.
“What else could it be! It has to be that brat doing it on purpose!”
“Tracy, don’t go. Don’t spoil your appetite. The little monster actually relieved himself right there as a protest!” He started walking toward the second-floor bathroom.
“We are eating! Are you deliberately trying to gross us out? You think shitting yourself is going to get you out of this? It won’t!”
I frantically waved my hands, trying to dissipate the stench of decay.
“It’s not that, Dad! I didn’t relieve myself!”
“That’s the smell of Sammy decomposing… Dad, please don’t go near it.”
Hearing no response from the bathroom, Gavin was instantly enraged.
“Fine. Playing mute, are we? You think if you don’t talk, I’ll forget about this?”
“If you like the smell of rotten filth so much, then you can stay in there and enjoy it!” He grabbed a can of air freshener and sprayed the hallway outside the door aggressively.
“I was planning to let you out tomorrow morning. Now you’ve earned another twenty-four hours!”
Tracy wrinkled her nose in disgust. “He’s getting completely out of hand. A boy that age, pulling stunts like this.”
“Forget it. The house smells awful. I can’t eat here.” She smiled at Patricia. “Since Patricia was so good today, let’s go out for a seafood buffet.”
Gavin’s eyes instantly lit up. He put away the air freshener and angrily glared at the bathroom door.
“He can stay in there and reflect. Let’s see if he ever pulls a stunt like that again!”
Watching them put on their shoes to leave, I spun in the air frantically.
“Don’t go… Please don’t go…”
“Don’t leave me alone in the house. It’s so dark in the bathroom. I’m scared…”
But my father couldn’t hear me.
Because I was already dead.
3
The next afternoon, they returned.
I floated in the foyer, watching Dad take Tracy’s shoes, his face covered in a placating smile.
“Honey, what do you want for dinner? I’ll cook whatever you want.”
Tracy was in a good mood, humming as she walked toward the bedroom. “Anything. Just don’t let the house smell like it did yesterday.”
Gavin’s face tightened, and he quickly laughed it off.
Patricia followed, excitedly holding the huge box of Legos Tracy had bought her.
Clatter.
The Lego box was too big, and Patricia fumbled it, knocking over the large decorative vase in the entryway. The sound of ceramic shattering was deafening.
“What was that noise out there!” Tracy’s angry shout instantly echoed from the bedroom.
Gavin’s face went white. He clapped a hand over Patricia’s mouth and shouted toward the bedroom.
“Nothing, Honey! Just my clumsy hand! I knocked over the vase by accident!”
“Stop being so careless! Keep it down!”
When Tracy didn’t appear, Gavin finally let out a long sigh. Patricia’s eyes were filled with tears, about to burst into wails.
“Daddy, I’m sorry! I won’t do it again! Don’t lock me—”
Gavin clamped his hand over her mouth again, whispering fiercely. “It’s okay, Patricia, you’re fine. Daddy would never lock you up.”
He peered at Tracy’s closed door, then pulled Patricia toward the second-floor bathroom.
“Come on, let’s go check on your brother.”
I floated behind, watching Patricia’s face contorted with fear as Gavin pressed her against the bathroom door frame.
The foul stench wafting from the crack under the door was stronger than yesterday. It was the smell of advanced decomposition.
Gavin covered his nose in disgust and slammed his fist on the door.
“You brat! Still playing dead, are we?”
“It’s been a day, and you still haven’t cleaned up your mess? Making a stench like this—you deliberately don’t want to come out, do you!”
The bathroom was silent.
After a few more angry curses, the lack of movement made Gavin’s brow furrow, a flicker of panic in his eyes.
“Did he pass out from hunger?”
But just as he unlocked the door and prepared to push it open, Snowball, startled by the noise, jumped back onto the touch panel.
This time, the small cat paused right on the Heavy Duty button.
The clear, electronic chime of the machine starting up rang out.
The washing machine violently shuddered, and the drum began to spin at high speed.
Gavin froze, shocked by the sudden noise. When he realized it was the washing machine running, his panic instantly turned to blind fury.
“Oh, you think you’re clever, you little bastard! I call for you, and you don’t answer, but you can start the machine yourself?”
Seeing the machine whirl, I cried out in despair. “It wasn’t me, Dad! I didn’t start it!”
“My body is already falling apart!”
“Please, open the door and stop the machine!”
But my father couldn’t hear my cries. He slammed the door shut and locked it again.
Then he picked up Patricia and walked quickly toward the living room.
“Patricia, you must never be naughty like your brother. Otherwise, you’ll have to be punished too.”
Patricia trembled, nodding her head vigorously.
I floated in the air, watching the wildly spinning machine with hopeless dread.
The drum speed increased. The body, already badly swollen, was being crushed and distorted by the sheer force of the centrifuge.
Finally, a strange gurgling sound came from the drainpipe.
That was the sound of me clogging the drain.
4
Back in the living room, Tracy was on the sofa, her brows deeply furrowed. “Still not finished? What is that awful smell in this house?”
She covered her nose, turning up the volume on the TV impatiently. “You can’t even manage one child. I have to live with this stench every day.”
Gavin’s face instantly paled. He feared nothing more than Tracy thinking he was incompetent or that we were a burden.
“Don’t worry, Tracy. It must be the sewer backing up. That kid was too lazy to clean the toilet.”
“I’ll clean it! I’ll be good!”
Patricia jumped off the sofa. She was terrified of being locked inside that roaring metal box.
To prove herself, she stumbled toward the downstairs bathroom.
“Clean it… If I clean it, the smell will go away…”
Patricia muttered to herself, stirring the water in the toilet bowl with the brush.
A gurgling sound came from the sewer.
Patricia pressed the flush button.
Whoosh. A reddish-brown liquid backed up and overflowed.
“Why won’t it flush…”
Patricia was nearly crying, afraid that failing at this simple task would lead to her own punishment.
Suddenly, a fleshy, rounded object floated up with the churning water.
Patricia froze, then her eyes lit up with excitement.
“An action figure! It’s a superhero!”
She screamed with joy. She thought this was a reward from the heavens, confirmation that she was a good girl for cleaning the toilet.
She reached out her small hand, grabbed the object, and ran out.
“No! Patricia, drop it! That’s not an action figure! That’s…”
I lunged, trying to knock the object from her hand, but I passed through her body again and again.
In the living room, Tracy listened to the scrubbing sounds from the bathroom and looked satisfied.
“See? She has a sense of responsibility now. She’s proactively helping out. Much better than before.”
Gavin’s lips curled into a smile. “Of course. Who do you think trained her?”
Just as he spoke, Patricia’s excited voice rang out.
“Daddy, look! The toilet flushed out a superhero!”
“I cleaned it really well. This is my reward!”
Gavin looked at Patricia.
The next second, his face turned ghastly white.
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I had failed the mission, spectacularly. So, I went rogue.
I threw the rulebook out the window. I imprisoned him. I took him. And then, I staged a glorious, definitive, dramatic death.
I barely had a moment to catch my breath in the afterlife when the System shrieked in my mind.
[Male Lead has hit critical corruption level! Urgent need for a second intervention!]
The next second, I was back.
I walked through the fog of disorientation, and then it happened: a gleaming, blood-slick blade pressed flat against the skin of my neck.
The man’s voice was a ghost in my ear.
“Another fool who thinks she can try.”
“That face—you think you can wear it?”
My mind went blank.
01
I was mid-bite of a chip when the System’s scream broke through the quiet of my new life.
[Host, there’s been an… issue with your mission.]
[The Male Lead has hit critical corruption level. The world is collapsing. We need you to go back for a secondary fix.]
I had no idea what it meant. Critical corruption?
In my memory, Caspian Bellwether was an emotional glacier—stoic, untouchable, the kind of man who floated above the base desires of the mortal world. He was a god carved from marble.
How could someone like him corrupt? The world could burn, and he would still be standing, perfectly still, perfectly unperturbed.
But before I could dwell on the absurdity, my vision swam, and I was abruptly shunted back into the alternate reality.
Specifically, I was back at the secluded estate where I had once kept Caspian prisoner.
I caught sight of the pomegranate tree I’d impulsively planted years ago.
A sudden, jarring thought hit me: That tree was half-dead when I left. When did it get so tall?
The System answered the unspoken question instantly.
[Host, the timeline in this world moves differently than yours.]
[Seven years have passed since you left.]
Seven years. Caspian couldn’t possibly still be here, could he?
I stumbled forward in a daze.
In that instant, my right foot hadn’t even landed when a chilling sensation grazed my neck.
A strand of my hair—snipped clean—drifted down before my eyes.
A cold steel blade was pressed tight against my throat. And worst of all, warm blood from the sword’s edge was sliding down my skin.
I froze, terrified. My fingers trembled. I couldn’t remember how to breathe.
The spectral voice drifted from behind me.
“Another fool who thinks she can try.”
“That face—you think you can wear it?”
I turned slowly.
Caspian’s devastatingly handsome, ice-cold face was inches from mine.
His eyes were bloodshot, feral, the eyes of a creature driven mad.
My words came out in broken fragments.
“Caspian, it’s m—”
The razor-sharp blade suddenly pulled away from my neck.
I was about to take a step forward, but my gaze snagged on a figure just beyond him, sprawled motionless in a pool of blood.
The woman’s eyes were wide and vacant.
She was a disturbing replica of me—strikingly, horribly similar.
My knees gave out. I collapsed onto the ground.
What had happened to him? How could Caspian have become this monster?
Caspian seemed to be in total shock. Naked bewilderment washed over his perfect features. His eyes flickered with a desperate, frantic uncertainty.
Suddenly, the sword clattered to the floor. He stepped forward, instinctively blocking my view of the body.
I gasped, finally letting out the breath I’d been holding.
“Damn you, Caspian Bellwether! You actually tried to murder me!”
He didn’t register my fury. He simply stared, blood-veins webbing his eyes, his brow furrowed in a tight, frightening knot.
I struggled to stand, wanting desperately to flee, but he grabbed my wrist, yanking me into his embrace.
His eyes were fixed on me, the way a predator watches its prey. His grip was too tight, making me wince.
“Aubrey.”
I paused. After a long silence, I heard the thick, ragged sound of his voice.
“Is it really you?”
“Please, don’t lie to me again.”
Again?
02
Caspian should despise me. Logically, he wouldn’t feel a flicker of emotion even if I were to die right in front of him.
Yet, I looked down at my ankle. The heavy shackle around my leg was padded on the inside, as if he were worried it might bruise me.
That was utterly unlike the Caspian I knew. He should hate me.
Seven years ago, I was bound to the System and sent here. The promise was ten million dollars if I successfully completed the “capture the male lead” mission.
For five years, I failed. No matter what I tried, the mission progress bar didn’t budge. Caspian remained an unscalable peak, emotionally sterile. His gaze never lingered on me.
Eventually, I simply broke. I drugged him. I kept him captive. Day after day, I forced intimacy on him.
But even with skin-to-skin contact, he never offered me a single, genuine glance. The contempt that radiated from him was a sharpened blade, cutting through my last shred of pride.
Heartbroken, I decided to abandon the mission.
On the last day, I leaned down to kiss him as I had countless times before. He kept his eyes closed, unmoving.
The kiss deepened, a desperate, silent farewell.
Then, I unlocked the restraint.
“Caspian, you’re free.”
His eyes opened, a flash of suspicious confusion in their depths. “What game are you playing now?”
I managed a faint, bittersweet smile. “No games. I just finally saw the light.”
The sheer irritation in his eyes wounded me instantly. I had forced him, yes, but after a year of being together—intimate and constant—even a stray dog would have developed some attachment. But not him.
I gave a bitter twist of my mouth. I watched him push open the door and walk out without a single pause. He didn’t look back.
As the System signaled my imminent departure, I lit the match.
Everything after the blaze was a blank slate.
But now…
I tugged the shackle on my ankle, the metal links clanging dully. I fell into a confused contemplation.
Had my year of obsession finally, irrevocably, broken the unbreakable man?
03
The door creaked open. Caspian walked in, carrying a covered tray.
He was still lean and classically handsome, but the years had etched a harder, more dangerous charm into his features. His body was long, a sharp silhouette of broad shoulders and a narrow waist. Paired with that stoic, impossibly perfect face, he could make any magazine cover model look like a rookie.
He took a bowl of hot soup from the tray. The steam rose gently. He scooped a spoonful, blew on it, and lifted it to my lips.
“Eat up, Aubrey. I wouldn’t want you to run out of steam later.”
My fists clenched, then slowly relaxed. I was, currently, in his cage. I had to yield.
His demeanor was unnervingly gentle, as if we truly were a devoted couple of many years—if I could only ignore the crushing weight of the metal on my ankle.
The meal was heavy with unspoken tension.
I sighed, setting the bowl down. “Caspian, is this what you want? To repay the humiliation I inflicted, piece by piece?”
He said nothing, only smiled—a deep, slow, and utterly chilling smile.
I shuddered. Was he going to…?
The thought was terrifying.
Suddenly, I watched him lean forward slowly. His beautiful face was inches from mine. A shallow, yet utterly evil curve lifted the corner of his mouth.
He raised his hands and cupped my head. His lips, hot and damp, crashed onto mine.
It wasn’t a tentative exploration. It was a torrential, overwhelming flood of taking, of demanding penetration. He drowned me in it, sweeping me away until I was desperate for air.
Finally, he pulled back.
I gasped, frantically dragging oxygen into my lungs.
His eyes were bloodshot again. He roughly shoved me back onto the bed.
“If I didn’t believe you were her, I’d already have gutted you.” His voice was cold, sharp, like ice water.
I finally broke free of my stupor and struggled, screaming.
“Caspian, how can you do this to me?” Tears streamed down my face. I stared at him, my eyes red and furious.
He let out a short, dismissive laugh.
“Why wouldn’t I?”
His long, cool fingers traced my eyebrows and the curve of my cheek. His intent was clear.
“Didn’t you do this to me that year?”
“You set the rules, Aubrey. Why do you suddenly object to playing by them?”
04
Caspian kept me pinned and broken all night.
After that, he spent every night in my room.
He held me tight again that night. The candlelight flickered around us.
I traced the perfect contours of his face with my eyes, trying to solve the puzzle of his constant frown.
Had Caspian actually fallen for me?
“No…” A soft whisper escaped his lips.
“What is it?” I leaned in.
My gaze instantly collided with his cold, clear eyes. He was suddenly wide awake. Our breath mingled, close enough for a kiss.
I awkwardly pulled back.
He didn’t speak, just stared at me, unblinking. It was so intense I felt the hairs on my arms prickle.
I shivered, about to make a lame joke, but his next words silenced me completely.
Caspian’s fingertips lightly stroked my cheek. His eyes held volumes of mockery and chilling indifference.
“Of all the pretenders, you are the closest replica.”
“And you get to stay.”
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It was New Year’s Day dinner when my wife, Sienna, slapped the debit card for our joint bank account down on the marble table in front of me.
Her face was stony. “You are going to explain this to me. Why is there only thirty-two cents left in this account?”
“I deposited half a million dollars this year. Where is the money?!”
I stood up slowly, keeping my voice level. “Take a breath, Sienna. I have the statements right here…”
I reached for my phone.
My mother-in-law, Carol, interrupted me with a voice dripping in sweet venom. “Your sister just bought a brand-new luxury SUV. Where do you think she got the cash? You clearly took my daughter’s money and handed it over to your family!”
I ignored Carol and placed the detailed bank statement in front of Sienna.
She glanced at it, then violently swatted my hand away.
…
“Enough. Get your sister to return the five hundred thousand dollars before the end of the week, or we’re getting a divorce!”
A cold, hard laugh escaped me. I picked up my phone, sending the entire year’s expenditure report directly into the Richard family group chat.
In the accompanying draft divorce agreement, I demanded that Sienna and her family repay me eighty thousand dollars.
The family group chat instantly exploded. People who hadn’t spoken to me in months suddenly started begging me not to go through with it.
A surge of icy rage hit me.
I looked at Sienna and smirked. “Are you sure you want to go through with this divorce?”
Sienna barely glanced at me. “If your sister returns the money, I might drop it.”
“But let me be clear: starting next year, I will never put another dollar into that joint account!”
My smile became openly mocking. I nodded slowly. “Fine. Let’s get divorced, then.”
Carol shrieked, slamming her chopsticks down.
“Cameron Mitchell! I’m telling you, even if you divorce my daughter, you will return that money! Otherwise, I will sue you!”
I looked at her calmly, speaking each word distinctly. “Don’t worry, before we divorce, I will account for every single penny.”
I paused, my voice dropping an octave. “Just one question, though: Are you saying that whoever spent the money is the one who has to pay it all back?”
Carol snorted, her chin lifted high. “Exactly! You spent my daughter’s money on your family, and you’ll repay every cent of it.”
I nodded.
With that statement, I was set.
I went back to our bedroom, grabbed my phone, and sent one simple message into Sienna’s family group chat:
“I have decided to divorce Sienna.”
The group had been a flurry of cheerful holiday emojis and gift card links moments ago.
My message dropped into a silence that was deafening.
I didn’t care if they replied or not.
I tossed the phone onto the bed and started packing a suitcase.
Sienna burst through the door. “Are you insane?!”
“It’s a holiday, and you’re sending that kind of garbage in the chat? It’s bad luck! Recall it immediately! Say it was a mistake!”
I didn’t look up. “I won’t recall it.”
I was only telling the truth. Why would I take it back?
Besides, it was just a divorce. What was so unlucky about finally being free?
My phone suddenly began pinging relentlessly.
Messages were pouring into the family chat.
Carol was wailing in text: “What kind of life does my daughter live? My heart aches, seeing this!”
“He does nothing all day and steals Sienna’s money to buy his sister a car! Sienna simply asked a question, and now he’s demanding a divorce!”
“Have you ever met such a shameless son-in-law? That was five hundred thousand dollars! Since he didn’t earn it, he doesn’t care about it!”
“I don’t care if you laugh at me, but I have been sick of this man for a long time. Divorce is fine! I’ll take care of my daughter myself from now on!”
I curled my lips into a sneer of contempt.
If it hadn’t been for her constant meddling, Sienna and I might never have reached this point.
Besides, I thought about the account statements.
I honestly couldn’t comprehend how Carol could claim she hadn’t touched a penny of that money.
The moment she discovered Sienna was depositing a large amount into the joint account every month, she started hitting me up for cash.
Today, she needed fifty thousand for a couples’ cruise with my father-in-law.
Tomorrow, her distant cousin was getting married and needed twenty thousand for a down payment.
The day after, she needed a quarter of a million to ‘lend’ to a struggling former classmate.
And Sienna herself…
Her colleagues would chip in fifty dollars for a wedding gift.
But Sienna insisted that, as a team leader, she had to save face and send a check for ten thousand dollars.
Five colleagues got married in one year; that was fifty thousand dollars just on cash gifts.
On top of that, there were expensive holiday gifts for her senior executives.
Two or three thousand dollars minimum per holiday.
She had no idea that her fifty thousand dollar deposits hadn’t even covered the family’s actual lifestyle expenses.
I had always told myself we were family.
I wasn’t a man who counted every penny.
I simply covered the difference, quietly transferring money from my personal account whenever the joint one ran dry.
But I never imagined my generosity would be so deeply misunderstood and warped.
I thought, out of the eighteen people in the family chat, someone would have the decency to speak up for me.
I was wrong.
As soon as Carol’s messages came out, the chat erupted in a chorus of condemnation.
“What?!”
“How could he take all of Sienna’s money for his own family? That’s disgusting!”
That was Helen Sawyer, Sienna’s aunt.
Six months ago, she told me her nephew needed a hundred thousand for a house down payment.
To put my mind at ease, she’d given me a signed IOU, promising to pay it back as soon as possible.
I had transferred the money from my own personal funds.
I never pressed her, and she never paid it back.
“A guy like him will never make five hundred thousand dollars in his life. The old saying is right: the worst thieves are the ones in your own house!”
That was Brett Harris, Sienna’s cousin.
Three months ago, he came to me asking for two hundred thousand for a startup.
I refused, but Carol stepped in, guaranteed the loan, and I begrudgingly transferred the money.
As far as I knew, he’d blown through the entire two hundred thousand within a month.
He hadn’t said a word about a repayment plan.
There were a few attempts at mediation.
“Cam, I’m not judging, but you were being insensitive. My sister is busy working all year. Your job is to handle the logistics. Spending her money on your sister—what’s that about?”
“Listen to me, man. Go get the five hundred grand back right now, apologize properly to my sister, and this will all blow over.”
That was Jamie Richard, Sienna’s younger brother.
He was currently in college.
Last month, he’d hit me up for three thousand dollars for a trip to Cabo for the holidays.
All year, he’d demanded money from me with an air of entitlement.
“I’m spending my sister’s money, not yours. What right do you have to refuse me?”
I reminded myself he was young, he was Sienna’s brother.
Even knowing the money was a dead loss, I transferred it without question.
Now, as I watched the messages jump up and down in the family chat, the contempt in my eyes sharpened.
Ever since I married Sienna, I had been the one managing all their social and financial dramas.
When they needed loans, they were full of sweet talk.
Now, they were calling me a shameless thief.
I slowly typed and sent a message: “The money was not spent by me or my family. I will not be repaying it.”
At that, the rest of the relatives who had been silently watching suddenly jumped in.
“Cameron! It’s the holidays, stop causing drama! Everyone knows your sister doesn’t have a real job. How did she buy a car?”
My sister, Paige, didn’t have a nine-to-five job.
But she wasn’t a freeloader, either.
She managed my parents’ domestic businesses.
My parents are entrepreneurs who are constantly busy, often traveling abroad to scout for investments.
They’d set up a private holding company for Paige to manage our US interests.
My parents gave Paige a monthly allowance of two hundred thousand dollars as a formality.
So, her new Rolls-Royce—she could easily afford that after saving for a few months.
I scoffed. “My sister’s car cost over a million dollars. Sienna’s joint account only had half a million. How could it possibly have been Sienna’s money?”
I hadn’t wanted to say anything.
Even after marrying Sienna, I had only ever told her that my parents were business owners and financially comfortable.
I never told her that their net income was in the tens of millions annually.
But Sienna refused to believe it. She was convinced I’d spent the joint funds on my sister.
Sienna stood at the door, clutching her phone, reading my message in the chat.
She gave a cold laugh. “Still lying? If it wasn’t for my five hundred thousand, how else could your sister have cobbled together enough cash to buy that car outright?”
She looked disappointed. “Cam, I told you when we got married, you could help your sister, but you had to ask me first.”
“How could you just take the money without a word and give it to an outsider?”
I suddenly found her profoundly ridiculous.
I put down my phone, looked up, and took a deep breath. “I’m saying it one more time. My family didn’t touch a single cent of your money.”
Just as I spoke, Carol burst back in, slamming the door.
“Sienna! Don’t waste your breath on him! Your Aunt Helen just told me she saw Cameron’s parents at the airport last month!”
Carol glared at me, pointing a finger at my face. “Your parents went on vacation, didn’t they? That was my daughter’s money too, wasn’t it?”
“If I had known you were capable of such shameless behavior, I never would have let Sienna marry you!”
I recalled the conversation. My mother had mentioned running into Helen at the airport.
The Richards were going on a family trip and Helen had bragged about flying first class.
I curled my lip.
They had money to travel, but no money to repay their loans.
It was clear my easygoing nature had made them believe I was a pushover.
I zipped up the last item of clothing in my suitcase.
I stood up, giving Carol a fake, chilling smile. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have married Sienna.”
“I’ll send you the final accounting and the divorce papers as soon as possible.”
With that, I grabbed my suitcase and walked out.
Sienna’s face paled. She yanked the suitcase handle. “What do you mean? You’re serious about the divorce?”
I gave a light laugh. “You know I don’t make jokes like this.”
Carol yelled from inside the apartment. “Let him go, Sienna! I’d like to see where he finds a woman as good as you once you’re divorced!”
She faced me, speaking with a defiant, arrogant tone. “You walk out that door today, and you can forget about ever coming back—even if you get on your knees and beg me!”
I looked at her deeply.
I sincerely hoped she would keep that promise once I finished sending out the rest of the statements.
It was New Year’s Eve, and late at night, making it difficult to get a cab.
I called my sister, Paige, to come pick me up.
On the way home, I told her everything.
When we arrived, Paige’s eyes were red. She rushed over and hugged my mother.
“Mom, you didn’t see how pathetic Cam looked! On a holiday, he was standing alone downstairs with his suitcase in the cold wind!”
She gritted her teeth in fury. “That woman didn’t even offer to help him leave!”
My mother, having heard the whole story, put an arm around my shoulder. “Get the divorce. You absolutely must!”
All the accumulated frustration and humiliation I’d endured at the Richards’ house instantly vanished.
Home truly was the warmest harbor.
My brother-in-law, Tyler, came over to me. “So, Cam, you’re just going to let them get away with this?”
I gave a slight, cold smile and shook my head. “Let them get away with it?”
“I’m going to make every single one of them regret this. I’m just getting started.”
I began the process of exporting every single bank statement for the year.
Every expense was documented clearly and precisely.
The joint account received five hundred thousand dollars.
But my total personal expenditure this year was one million three hundred thousand dollars.
After Sienna and I married, she told me to quit my job and focus on managing the household.
Sienna always thought she was providing for me.
What she didn’t know was that my mother gave me an annual allowance of three million dollars, which was even more than she gave Paige.
It wasn’t that my mother favored me. It was because I had moved into Sienna’s home after we married, and she was worried I would be mistreated.
Sienna’s family was comfortable, but they were worlds apart from mine.
When I married Sienna, my mother hadn’t objected.
She only had one condition: don’t tell the Richards the true extent of our family’s wealth.
I had agreed.
Now, it seemed my mother had been right all along.
My phone vibrated.
Sienna had sent a message to the group chat.
“Cameron Mitchell! I’m giving you one last chance. Get your sister to give me back the money, and I won’t divorce you!”
I gave a dry laugh. “I won’t.”
“Fine! You won’t return it? Then don’t blame me for not respecting our marriage!”
“Wait for the court summons!”
Carol was also screaming in the group. “See? This man is a disaster waiting to happen! Any woman who marries him is doomed!”
Helen Sawyer chimed in: “Don’t worry, we’ll all go to court and testify for you!”
“Why should our Richard family money go to outsiders?”
I laughed mockingly. She seemed to forget she wasn’t a Richard.
Even Jamie, Sienna’s brother, chimed in from his vacation in Cabo, supporting her.
“Go for it, Sis! Divorce him!”
“I’ll introduce you to a younger guy with six-pack abs! Who needs this old man of a husband!”
I didn’t reply again.
I called the lawyer who often handled my parents’ corporate issues.
I asked her how to draft the divorce agreement and how to reclaim the eight hundred thousand dollars I had spent on the Richards.
“I have the transfer records, the IOUs, and the signed guarantees from the person who vouched for the loan.”
The lawyer replied, “That’s all we need. Furthermore, the allowance your parents give you is a personal gift, transferred directly to you. That does not count as marital property.”
I let out a sigh of relief.
Sienna, I’m going to settle this debt, item by item.
Ping.
The annual bank statement export was complete.
The next day, my lawyer came to my house, ostensibly to wish us a happy new year, but she brought the finalized divorce agreement.
The last item was a demand for Sienna’s family to repay my personal funds of eight hundred thousand dollars.
I signed my name first.
Then, I forwarded the exported bank statements directly to the Richard family group chat.
Every expense was listed in excruciating detail.
Every penny lent to them was documented as coming from my personal savings account.
Now that I was divorcing Sienna, I was demanding that the entire family, including Carol and Sienna, repay the eight hundred thousand dollars they owed me.
Five minutes later.
The group chat exploded.
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My cousin earns $500k a year at a top international firm, yet she constantly treats me like her free personal assistant.
From picking up her parents’ prescriptions to changing lightbulbs in her house, one call from her and I’m expected to drop everything.
Afterward, she sends me a measly Venmo of $6.66 or $8.88, calling it a “labor fee” because she “doesn’t want me running errands for free.”
It wasn’t even enough for gas. But for the sake of family, I endured it for three whole years.
Until Thanksgiving dinner. My uncle praised me for being sensible, but my cousin chimed in with a passive-aggressive tone:
“Young people these days only care about money. Family ties mean nothing to them.”
“Take my cousin Mia, for example. I ask her to check on my parents, and without a red envelope, she won’t even budge.”
The elders at the table instantly looked at me differently. My mom pinched my leg under the table in anger.
I looked at her smug face and laughed.
Two days later, her mom fainted in the middle of the night. She called me frantically:
“Quick! Take my mom to the ER! I’m booking a flight back right now!”
I went, but when it came time to pay the hospital bills, I didn’t front the money like I used to.
Instead, I posted the payment QR code directly into the family group chat of over 50 people and tagged her:
“Cousin, you said it yourself. Family shouldn’t talk about money. You can pay for your own mother’s medical bills.”
1
I posted the QR code in the family group chat. No one spoke.
A few minutes later, my cousin Chloe Lin called me.
“Mia Lin! What is the meaning of this!” Her voice was sharp, carrying her usual arrogance. The background noise was an airport announcement.
“Literal meaning.” My tone was calm.
“Didn’t I say I’m booking a flight back immediately? Venmo transfers have delays. Would it kill you to pay first?”
“Cousin, sorry. My paycheck hasn’t come in this month. My card is empty.”
Of course, it was an excuse.
Over the past three years, the medical bills, utilities, and various miscellaneous expenses I fronted for her family amounted to at least ten thousand dollars.
She always waited days or weeks before remembering to pay me back.
And she always rounded down, saying, “We’re family, why be so calculating?”
“You have no money? You’re lying to a ghost! Didn’t you just get your year-end bonus? My mom is waiting in the hospital. Pay the bill now! Don’t play games with me!” She roared on the other end, hurting my ears.
I moved the phone away and looked at the long line at the payment window. I whispered, “Cousin, you said it yourself. Family shouldn’t talk about money.”
“Since we don’t talk about money, isn’t it only right for you to pay your own mother’s medical bills?”
“You!” She was speechless with anger, finally spitting out a vicious sentence, “Just you wait!”
The call ended.
In the family group chat, someone carefully posted a question mark.
Then, my uncle sent a voice message, his tone full of authority: [Mia, stop throwing a tantrum with your cousin. Pay the money quickly. Your aunt’s health is what matters.]
[Your cousin is busy with work and under a lot of pressure. She didn’t mean it like that.]
Following that, the elders in the family group started taking turns.
Aunt Carol: [Yeah, Mia. Your cousin makes $500k a year. Would she stiff you on that little money? It must be a transfer delay.]
Uncle Bob: [Young people shouldn’t be so petty. We are all family.]
My own mother also sent me a private message, scolding me fiercely: [Are you crazy? Making a scene with your cousin in the family group? If you don’t want face, we do!]
[Pay the money quickly, then apologize to your cousin in the group. Say you were joking!]
I looked at the messages popping up on my screen, my heart turning cold.
Look, this is my family.
Right or wrong, they will only stand by Chloe.
Just because she’s successful, earning $500k a year, the pride of the entire family.
While I, earning $4k a month, am the one who can be sacrificed for the “greater good” at any time.
I didn’t reply to anyone. I just silenced my phone and put it back in my pocket.
The nurse shouted: “Next, family of Susan Liu!”
I stepped forward and handed over the payment slip. “Hello, we’ll pay when someone else arrives.”
2
About twenty minutes later, a notification of successful payment popped up in the group.
Chloe paid the money.
She didn’t private message me again. Instead, she posted a screenshot of her flight ticket in the group with the caption:
[Landed. Rushing to the hospital. Some people really treat family affection as a transaction. For a little money, they ignore the safety of their elders. Fortunately, I, the daughter, can still be counted on.]
With a few light words, she portrayed herself as a filial daughter, while I became the ungrateful wretch who ignored my aunt’s life for money.
People in the group immediately agreed.
[Chloe is truly filial. Flying back overnight despite being so busy with work.]
[Unlike some young people nowadays, calculating everything so clearly.]
My mom called again. This time her voice was choked with tears:
“Mia Lin, what exactly do you want to do! Must you make our family unable to lift our heads in front of relatives?”
“Do you know your uncle just called and scolded me!”
I leaned against the cold wall of the hospital, listening to my mom sobbing on the other end.
“Mom, on Thanksgiving, when Chloe said in front of everyone that I wouldn’t move without a red envelope, why didn’t you feel our family couldn’t lift our heads then? Did you ask her to apologize to me?”
“That was…” My mom choked, then said after a while, “She’s your cousin. She speaks without thinking. Why are you so petty with her?”
“I’m not being petty. I’m just tired.” With that, I hung up.
Not long after, my uncle appeared at the end of the corridor with a dark face.
He walked straight up to me, his eyes devoid of gratitude, full of suppressed anger.
“Mia Lin, you think you’re capable now? Daring to play tricks on your cousin like this?”
I looked at him without speaking.
“Your aunt is lying inside, and you’re causing trouble for your cousin outside, not giving her a moment of peace even on the plane! What is your intention?”
His voice grew louder, attracting side-eyes from passing patients and families.
I didn’t want to argue with him in the hospital.
“Uncle, is Auntie better? I’ll go see her.”
“See what!”
He suddenly raised his voice, raised his hand, and slapped me across the face without warning.
Slap! Crisp and loud.
My face went numb instantly, burning with pain.
Everyone in the corridor looked over.
“If I don’t teach you a lesson, you really think your wings have hardened!”
My uncle pointed at my nose and scolded, spit almost spraying on my face.
“For a few lousy bucks, you’ve embarrassed the family completely! I tell you, when Chloe gets here, you must kneel and apologize to her!”
A passing nurse couldn’t stand it anymore and whispered: “Sir, this is a hospital. Please keep it down.”
My uncle glared at her but finally lowered his voice.
He turned to check on his wife, leaving me a cold, hard back.
I covered my face, humiliation and anger filling my heart.
The little nurse walked over and handed me a tissue, with a small packet of wet wipes on top.
“Wipe it. It’s all red.” Her eyes held sympathy.
I took it and whispered thank you.
Tears finally couldn’t be held back and fell.
3
When Chloe arrived, she was imposing.
She wore a well-tailored designer trench coat, high heels, not a hair out of place, exquisite makeup on her face.
She didn’t look like a worried daughter, but more like an executive on inspection.
She didn’t go to the ward to see her mom first but blocked me in the corridor.
“Mia Lin, you’ve got some nerve.”
She crossed her arms, scrutinizing me condescendingly.
I ignored her, trying to walk around.
She grabbed my arm with surprising strength.
“Did you hear what my dad told you? Giving you one last chance. Now, immediately, kneel and apologize to me!” Her voice wasn’t loud but full of threat.
I shook off her hand, looking at her coldly: “Keep dreaming.”
“Heh.” She sneered, her eyes turning vicious. “Seems like I need to teach you a lesson. You don’t know your place.”
She suddenly reached out and shoved my shoulder hard.
Caught off guard, my back slammed into the wall with a dull thud.
My uncle also walked out of the ward, blocking my way left and right.
“Ungrateful thing!”
He scolded, reaching to grab my hair, trying to force me down.
“What are you doing!”
I struggled desperately, the humiliation almost driving me crazy.
This is a public corridor in a hospital. People coming and going.
They actually dared to lay hands on me here.
Chloe had a cruel smile on her face: “Today I’ll let you know the consequences of offending Chloe Lin!”
She increased her strength, knee pressing against the back of my leg, trying to make me kneel.
I held on grimly, nails digging into my palms.
Just as I was about to collapse, a roar came from the other end of the corridor.
“Stop! What are you doing!”
It was my dad.
He and my mom had arrived.
My dad rushed forward, shoved my uncle away, and shielded me behind him.
“Brother! Chloe! You’ve gone too far!” My dad was shaking with anger.
My mom also rushed up, seeing my swollen face and messy clothes, tears falling instantly.
“How can you hit someone! What did Mia do wrong for you to treat her like this!”
Seeing my parents, Chloe didn’t restrain herself but became more self-righteous.
“Uncle, Aunt, perfect timing! Look at your good daughter. For a little money, she wouldn’t even pay for my mom’s life-saving treatment, and she ruined my reputation in the family group! Was I wrong to ask her to apologize?”
“Is that asking for an apology? You’re trying to force her to death!” My dad roared.
Hospital security arrived, dispersing the onlookers.
“Stop arguing! This is a hospital! Take your issues outside!”
A family farce ended embarrassingly under the intervention of security.
4
Our two families were invited to a hospital conference room.
It was called mediation, but it was really a struggle session against me.
The family authority, my grandmother in her eighties, was also summoned by my uncle with a phone call.
As soon as she arrived, she held Chloe’s hand, asking painfully: “Chloe, did you suffer?”
Then she turned to me, her face sinking: “Mia, why are you becoming less and less sensible!”
Chloe immediately squeezed out a few tears, leaning aggrievedly into Grandma’s arms.
“Grandma, I’m really heartbroken. I work so hard outside, just wanting our family to live a little better.”
“I helped Uncle with connections, thinking we are all family, help if I can.”
“But my cousin, she took care of my parents for a bit, I even gave her a labor fee, yet she thought it was too little and embarrassed me in front of the whole family.”
Her words stung my parents’ hearts.
Especially the “helped Uncle with connections” part.
My dad was currently running for a deputy director position at his unit. The competition was fierce.
Chloe had said before that a relative of her friend was a leader in my dad’s unit and could put in a good word.
My parents treated this as a huge favor, repeatedly telling me never to offend Chloe.
Sure enough, my dad’s face changed.
He looked at me, eyes full of pleading and difficulty.
My mom tugged at my clothes directly, whispering: “Mia, forget it. Your cousin didn’t mean it. Just soften up, don’t affect your dad’s job.”
Looking at them, I felt suffocated.
Seeing this, the smile on Chloe’s lips deepened.
She straightened up from Grandma’s arms, walked up to me, and issued an ultimatum.
“Mia Lin, I don’t want to be ruthless.”
“Now, bow and apologize to my parents, and to me. Then write a long post in the family group admitting you were petty and misunderstood me.”
“As long as you do it, I guarantee your dad’s job will be settled properly.”
“I have a flight tomorrow night. Before that, I want to see your sincerity.”
Everyone’s eyes focused on me.
Pressure surged from all sides.
My parents, grandmother, uncle, and Chloe.
They were certain that in face of my father’s future, I would compromise.
Chloe crossed her arms, wearing the arrogance and pride only a winner possesses.
I looked at her determined face, then at my parents’ anxious and expectant eyes.
I slowly took out my phone.
Chloe’s smile widened, thinking I was going to type an apology.
Without looking at her, I found a number in my contacts and dialed.
🌟 Continue the story here
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At the company’s mid-year gala, my boss offered to set me up on a blind date.
Drunk and emotional, I tearfully admitted I hadn’t moved on from my ex.
My colleagues, hungry for gossip, pressed for details.
The boss sitting at the head of the table looked increasingly uncomfortable.
“This ex of yours… his last name wouldn’t happen to be Sterling, would it?”
1
The executives immediately sobered up, exchanging glances.
I was slumped on the table, enjoying a baby-like slumber.
I completely missed the boss’s question.
The colleagues around me, energized by the gossip, shook me vigorously.
“Don’t sleep, Autumn! Tell us more!”
I lifted my head with difficulty. “Tell you what?”
“Is your ex’s family rich?”
“Extremely, obscenely rich.” I spread my arms wide. “His kitchen… has a whole row of fridges, all filled with premium seafood people gifted him.”
“How did you meet?”
“We were high school classmates.”
I mumbled a response, sitting there trying to recover.
My body found the camera before my eyes did.
I immediately started managing my expression.
Only to realize it was the big boss at the head of the table, Charles Chen, sneakily filming me with his phone.
“Mr. Chen, why are you filming me?”
Charles was handsome, and scandalous rumors about him were plentiful.
Among the group executives, he was the most gossiped about.
He was known as the Second Prince.
He had a Crown Prince older brother above him.
But a year ago, the Crown Prince was transferred, and Charles took over management.
Rank-wise, I shouldn’t be sitting at the same table as him.
But today was the mid-year gala.
And I was one of the top three revenue-generating streamers across all sectors last year.
Sales, interviews, group broadcasts—I hit every target.
To show appreciation, the leadership allowed top-performing employees to sit with them.
Charles pursed his lips and gestured for me to continue.
“Nothing, go on. I want to hear it too.”
“Let’s not talk about relationships… it’s embarrassing.”
I subconsciously dropped a cherry tomato into my wine glass.
Realizing belatedly that I was drinking with clients (or bosses), I fished the fruit out and ate it.
Sour.
Charles hissed.
“Embarrassing?”
He seemed to want to laugh but held it back.
“Is dating that ex of yours embarrassing?”
I shook my head. “Not that he’s embarrassing. I was just a failure back then.”
“That shouldn’t be,” he led the conversation. “If you were a failure, why would he be with you?”
I didn’t say anything.
He winked at the people around him.
Several half-drunk executives immediately got up, saying they were going to mingle at other tables.
Seeing this, my colleagues also slipped away one by one.
Baffled, I decided to leave with them.
Charles quickly looked up, clearing his throat.
“Where are you going? Your performance last year was excellent. Let’s talk about a raise.”
I shivered and scooted back to my seat.
I filled my glass, following muscle memory to give a thank-you speech.
“Thank you for your appreciation, Mr. Chen. Cheers.”
“Sit, sit. Don’t drink.”
He held down my glass.
“Tell me, Sterling… how did your ex’s mom persuade you to break up? Did she scold you or threaten you?”
She didn’t.
She was very kind.
That was when I was a senior in college.
Since confirming my relationship with Ethan Sterling in sophomore year, I would stay at his place for a few days during winter and summer breaks.
His mother showed up suddenly one afternoon.
I was sleeping on the sofa and was startled awake by a knock.
I thought Ethan was back.
Running to open the door, I found a strange woman.
She looked 30% like Ethan.
She saw me and wasn’t surprised.
And she didn’t seem to be looking for Ethan.
I greeted her very slowly, “Hello, Auntie.”
“Autumn, hello.”
She smiled. “Shall we go inside and chat?”
I guessed her intention immediately.
She said her last name was Hoffman, from the Hoffman shipping family in Hong Kong.
Her marriage to Mr. Sterling was an alliance.
Their businesses complemented each other perfectly.
They had been harmoniously married for years, and Ethan was their only son.
Perhaps Mr. Sterling had selfish motives.
But Ethan’s position was secure.
Provided he didn’t mess up.
Provided he didn’t expose a weakness for outsiders to exploit.
“Ethan is capable, and I trust him. He doesn’t really need marriage to secure himself.”
Mrs. Sterling gathered her clutch, changing the subject.
“However, marriage alliances are a way to gather support.”
“If he doesn’t do it, someone else will.”
“If others realize his wife’s family is weak and use marriage to find allies to wrestle with him, that wouldn’t be good.”
With every sentence she spoke, my back stiffened a little more.
Pins and needles.
Let’s get this over with.
I kept my head down.
“Mrs… Mrs. Sterling, what… what do you want me to do?”
She watched me picking at my hands, seemingly with a hint of pity.
“Autumn, I’ve known about you since high school.”
“Back then, Ethan mentioned your name all the time at home.”
“Later, I looked into your school. I know your parents are traditional, you came out of the mountains thanks to poverty alleviation programs, and got into a top university on grades alone.”
“A very difficult path for a girl.”
“You are smart and pretty.”
“But to be our daughter-in-law, you don’t have to be exceptionally excellent, but you can’t have too big of a shortcoming.”
“Originally, I didn’t want to separate you two so quickly.”
“But Ethan is graduating. You’re staying in the country, and he’s unwilling to go abroad.”
“So, Autumn, consider him, and consider yourself.”
She opened her clutch.
And pressed a thin check onto the coffee table.
I quickly wiped my face, daring not look up.
“Okay, okay, I understand. I won’t… won’t see you out, okay?”
Her soft shawl brushed past my fluffy pajamas.
The scent was faint, like sandalwood in a temple.
The sandalwood scent faded.
She closed the door as if she had never been there.
I went to the room to pack.
Only when I started packing did I realize there was so much stuff.
Clothes and socks filled a corner of the walk-in closet.
Jewelry, hair ties, and toiletries Ethan casually bought for me.
Plants I raised, pillows, dolls, ornaments I bought, unused sanitary pads.
It was impossible to fit into the one suitcase I came with.
I stuffed things in and took them out.
Jewelry with no obvious price tag stayed behind.
Toiletries had to be taken.
I definitely wouldn’t bear to buy such expensive ones myself.
Take more pajamas.
That cashmere shawl was a celebrity style, very long.
When we bought it, Ethan laughed that I was small but insisted on acting cool, looking like a manta ray in it.
Take it.
His sound system was the brand I picked, supposedly excellent.
Although I realized after getting it that it was just internet hype.
But I still liked it.
Pity I really couldn’t take that.
What about the plants on the balcony I raised for two years?
Change a place, spend another two years raising them?
I sat by the messy suitcase and suddenly broke down.
Footsteps outside the living room door.
Sounds of footsteps and bags being placed on the table.
“Autumn,” Ethan called from outside. “Shall I cook for you?”
I didn’t answer.
He muttered to himself in confusion.
Probably glimpsed the check on the coffee table, his steps faltered.
The bedroom door opened.
“Who from my family came to see you…”
Ethan’s face was ugly, fingering the thin paper.
I turned to look at him, quickly wiping my face with my sleeve.
“Okay, don’t cry, don’t cry.”
He half-squatted, pulling me into his arms.
“Who came? Tell me.”
His fingertips were a bit cold, his collar chilly.
I rubbed my face against his coat, burying it in his warm sweater.
But his cashmere sweater also smelled of sandalwood.
They are a family.
Was I dragging him down, putting him in a difficult spot?
Panting, I tried to pull away, but he pulled me back.
Fingers threaded through my hair, undeniably pressing the back of my head against his chest.
“Speak. Was it a man or woman? How old?”
He lowered his head, nose against my forehead, breathing with annoyance.
I shook my head.
“I… let’s talk.”
“Talk about what? Autumn, what do you want to talk about? Breaking up?”
His gaze was severe.
“When we got together, didn’t you promise not to give up easily?”
I wanted to say we’re together, but I dared not.
He said he thought clearly when he confessed.
So he hoped I would consider the obstacles we would face in the future before answering him.
I promised him I would be with him properly.
But being young, I always thought obstacles were light.
Only when facing them did I realize one sentence was enough to negate everything.
I retreated.
Would he retreat at some moment too?
“Why don’t we… break up?”
Meeting his gaze, my voice got smaller and smaller.
“I’m afraid you, afraid you will regret it later, feel that I… am a burden…”
“Enough!”
Ethan interrupted me, swallowing hard several times.
I spoke very little in high school.
At first, classmates asked me questions.
I didn’t speak, just wrote down the solution steps for them.
Classmates thought I was pretentious.
The grade called me “the silent, pretentious exam expert.”
Later, teachers called on me to answer questions.
After many times, they realized I had a speech impediment (stutter).
So I got immunity from answering questions.
No one made it difficult for me to speak.
They just occasionally advised me to practice speaking more.
Classes during the day, back to dorms at night, washing up time was tight.
I couldn’t find time to practice, nor was I willing.
Only after getting together with Ethan did I occasionally open my mouth.
He always waited for me to finish.
Even if describing one thing took ten minutes.
He had never interrupted me like this.
I shut my mouth tight.
“Autumn,” he took a deep breath, cupping my face with both hands, “Do you still like me?”
I looked at him and nodded.
“Then don’t mention breaking up. Just consider it for me, practice speaking well. I’ll practice with you at home.”
He used a bit of force. “Hear me?”
I nodded again.
He pulled me into his arms, tightening his embrace.
“Good girl.”
After that day, neither of us mentioned the two million dollar check.
He hired a live-in maid to do housework and dragged me to chat all day.
Sometimes I woke up late at night and heard him on the balcony on the phone.
The tone on the other end probably wasn’t good.
He was silent for a long time, responding in low tones.
Usually the next day he would apologize to me, saying he had to attend high-level meetings and would be away for a few days.
I saw the documents on his desk.
Meeting materials, industry reports, financial statements.
Confidentiality level unknown.
I didn’t dare look closely.
I only knew I was probably really dragging him down.
When he wasn’t there, I practiced with my phone.
Opened a voice chat livestream.
Regardless of whether anyone was there, I forced myself to speak.
Some viewers who entered the room were startled.
University classmates bumped into me in the woods and thought my mental state wasn’t good.
There was even a period where my weird livestream was screenshotted and discussed on forums for a while.
I replied to comments one by one explaining the reason.
Unexpectedly, netizens were very understanding and came specifically to chat with me.
But it was so painful.
The livestream got more popular.
Some encouraged, some mocked.
Some deliberately guided me to read bad comments.
My speech was still stuttering.
After accidentally reading vulgar words and homophones, the livestream room was banned again.
I couldn’t take it anymore.
Why torture myself like this, and drag Ethan down too?
How can chronic symptoms be recovered by short-term training?
I wanted to give up.
But this time I didn’t have the courage to face Ethan.
I left all miscellaneous items, only taking clothes I needed.
At a hotel, I texted him to break up.
That night he returned to the city.
Insisted on talking face to face.
I opened the door and saw a travel-worn Ethan.
Eyes bloodshot, standing stiffly.
Neither spoke.
I couldn’t hold back tears.
Crying and crying.
At the end of crying, I spoke the most fluent sentence.
“Ethan, the pressure is too much, I really can’t go on.”
He pursed his lips tight and asked me.
“Really can’t go on? Can’t we try again?”
I said, “I’m so tired.”
He put the gift bag on the floor, lowering his eyelids.
“If it’s really that painful, then forget it.”
I squatted on the floor, watching him turn his back.
“Ethan!”
He stopped, looked sideways.
I realized then that his eyes were red too.
I said, “Can we still be friends?”
Will we meet again?
He laughed lightly, “Mn. You can find me if you need anything.”
But I understood.
He meant he wouldn’t find me anymore.
Later, indeed, no contact.
It’s been over three years.
If he knew my speech is very, very clear now…
Wonder if he would be happy for me.
Alcohol brings up old memories.
Illusory emotions rush to the head, ignoring reality.
I lay on the table, completely forgetting this was a group mid-year gala.
Sitting opposite was my boss’s boss’s boss.
Charles Chen frowned and patted me.
“Autumn, Autumn, wake up… Ancestor, probably alcohol poisoning? Dammit, Ethan Sterling is gonna chop me.”
I was shaken awake, face tilted from my bent arm.
Exposing one eye to look at him.
“Hm? Mr. Chen?”
Charles breathed a sigh of relief.
Handed a tissue, chin lifted.
“Wipe your face, crying like that.”
“Sorry, drank too much, got emotional. This wine is strong, can’t handle it.”
I forced a smile, realizing belatedly.
“Hey, Mr. Chen, weren’t we talking about a raise?”
He waved his hand.
“Raise, 50% raise. But tomorrow, no, day after tomorrow, you have to come with me to… um, a cross-company exchange meeting.”
“Is my rank high enough to attend with you?”
“Oh, just a simple meal.”
“Oh. No can do, annual leave starts day after tomorrow.”
“Triple overtime pay. It’s a rare networking opportunity, I’m taking you because you’re motivated.”
Charles said with certainty.
I didn’t suspect him, making an OK gesture.
He let out a breath, smiling like a smug fox.
“I’ll have the driver take you back, rest well. I’ll pick you up day after tomorrow.”
2
I slept until 2 PM thanks to the alcohol.
Woke up and sat on the bed thinking for half an hour.
I couldn’t remember exactly what I said at the gala last night.
But I didn’t forget Charles Chen’s mischievous expression at the end.
His reputation with women wasn’t good.
Sending a female star to a cover shoot today.
Dining with a newly debuted girl tomorrow.
Although hadn’t heard of him involved with female employees.
Still scalp-numbing.
Before I could think of an excuse to refuse, a work message popped up.
“Tomorrow’s dinner is a birthday celebration for a buddy of mine, you better bring a gift.”
“Seize the opportunity, maybe someone casually gives an opportunity, and you can pay hundreds of thousands more in taxes.”
“5:30 PM, Secretary Lee will pick you up.”
Your family gathering, I shouldn’t go.
I drank too much yesterday and blabbed, Mr. Chen please bear with me.
There are people with better performance than me in the company, why not give them the chance?
I deleted the refusal.
Cowardly replied “Received.”
After washing up, realized I forgot to ask key info.
Is his buddy old or young, prefers western or traditional style, sexual orientation.
Know nothing.
Searched gifts for leaders on phone, homepage showed shops I bought from before.
Scarf, belt, briefcase.
Prices weren’t high, price range I couldn’t choose now.
But giving those to Ethan, he was always happy.
I was suddenly in a trance.
Not long later is Ethan’s birthday too.
He happened to be born around Lunar New Year.
Every year on his birthday, he celebrated with me first, then rushed home to celebrate again.
Came back the next day with bags big and small.
Gifts from relatives and Sterling family partners.
Some knew he was dating, so gifted popular new season luxury goods to please him.
He picked through them, packing what I could use.
Still had to be coy, wouldn’t give to me easily.
Insisted I circle him for half a day, stuttering anxiously.
Only then would he lift his chin, slowly handing over the suitcase.
I sat on the floor opening gift boxes one by one.
Ethan bent his leg leaning aside, drinking water slowly.
“Anything you like?”
I held up the most satisfactory one to show him.
He recognized it, smiling.
“Got it, talk projects with their family more next year.”
I said, “You, you abuse power for personal gain.”
My birthday is in autumn.
Specific day, unclear.
His gifts piled aside, as if I also had a very good birthday.
In the years apart, I haven’t picked gifts for anyone.
Nor received gifts from anyone.
Screening items matching the other’s temperament, preference, and status from massive options consumes energy.
I emboldened myself to contact Charles.
“Mr. Chen, what does your friend prefer? I’ll prepare accordingly.”
He said, “Anything is fine.”
…
Then anything is fine.
I asked someone to buy a tea cake, just said expensive.
Sending tea can’t be wrong.
Shop owner said the tea cake grade I wanted wasn’t low, the only one in the store happened to be reserved.
Other stock needed time to transfer.
Luckily delivered before the dinner.
I picked a semi-formal commuter suit, carrying the gift box out.
3
Charles and his secretary were already waiting downstairs.
I got in the car, instinctively wanted to say hello, didn’t see anyone.
Secretary Lee glanced at me.
“Looking for Mr. Chen? We’re picking him up now.”
“Oh, okay.” I paused, “Secretary Lee, do you accompany Mr. Chen to these dinners?”
“Mr. Chen doesn’t drink much, no need for company. I wait in the car.”
“Then do you know who Mr. Chen is meeting this time?”
“Not clear on this one.”
He slowed down, stopping by the roadside.
Charles just walked out of a tea shop.
The packaging bag in his hand looked very familiar.
My back sweated, looking down at the gift box beside me.
No way, such a coincidence?
Charles opened the door, putting the stuff beside him casually.
I peeked through the rearview mirror.
Headache worsening.
Identical gift, how to give?
Eyes met.
Charles reported a location, then asked me.
“Autumn, brought the gift?”
I turned back, slowly lifting the gift box for him to see.
He almost choked laughing.
“Young people drink this tea?”
“But you bought it too.”
“I’m taking this to give to his dad casually! You’re a bit tactless, only focused on picking expensive ones right?”
“…Mr. Chen, men’s gifts, get too personal and it crosses the line.”
Cufflinks, ties, belts, watches, all intimate items.
Truly versatile are tobacco, alcohol, tea.
Turning the intersection, the car stopped by a Chinese courtyard.
I carried the gift following Charles.
In the restaurant private room, several people were chatting.
Turned to glimpse us, greeting and pulling chairs.
I locked eyes with one person, both stunned for seconds.
Zack, seeing me enter with Charles one after another, eyes wide.
I nodded at him, heart skipped a beat.
Running into a high school alum here?
I wasn’t close with Zack.
Met a few times, all because of Ethan.
Noise all around.
“Early, Prince Chen, not late this time?”
“Hm? Brought a sister too?”
“Changed taste? Remember the last one wasn’t this style.”
“We gather once, only you bring a girl.”
“Seriously, restrain your playing. If we had your scandals, our legs would be broken.”
Charles scoffed.
“Sick? Go treat it. This is my employee. Autumn, put your gift on that table.”
Gifts on the table were open.
Jade raw stones, jewelry, riding crops, watches.
Two identical tea cakes placed there, incredibly abrupt.
Teasing that just calmed down returned.
“Why give the same thing?”
“Wearing couple outfits, giving couple gifts?”
“Zack, usually you talk the most, why silent now?”
Zack looked indescribable, squeezed out words after a while.
“This… I dare not say.”
I sat in the corner smiling bitterly.
This kind of occasion, can’t pass without a few teases.
Footsteps approached steadily from the corridor.
People around suddenly started touching things quickly.
The second the door opened, confetti exploded.
“Congrats Prince Sterling on getting another year older!”
I applauded with everyone, suddenly sitting up straight.
Who?
Named Sterling?
Confetti fell.
The person at the door dusted confetti off his shoulder, half helpless half silent.
“How many times you gonna play this trick?”
Across years, voice no longer familiar.
Shedding some clarity, adding steadiness.
My back stiffened, face steaming.
Ethan stood by the door hands in pockets, face slowly cooling.
Silence for a moment.
People at the table confused, looking at each other.
“Prince Sterling come sit.”
Waiter waited aside, waiting to take his coat.
I lowered my head, actively avoiding gaze.
Zack coughed a few times, smoothing things over.
“Sit first Ethan, talk later.”
After a while, he pulled a chair and sat.
Drank a glass of warm water, eyelids lowered looking at Charles.
“Not introducing?”
Charles patted my chair back.
“Autumn, my company’s most capable streamer, whatever she pushes goes viral. Brought her to meet people, you guys look after her if there’s business.”
I stood up and smiled at the right time, bowing slightly.
“Whoa, who’s worth you bringing personally for face?”
“Should we call her sister-in-law?”
Zack held back, “Stop asking, stop asking.”
Charles cleared his throat.
“Just have fun with me, don’t drag innocent people in, is this really my girlfriend?”
“So she’s here.” Ethan didn’t lift his head, “Thought I’d be drinking Prince Chen’s wedding wine soon.”
I stared at the cup in front of me, playing background.
Two or three at the table responded.
“Sorry girl, I’ll punish myself a cup.”
“Charles Chen you too, not discussing business, why bring an employee?”
“Right, haven’t toasted the birthday boy yet. Come come come drink one.”
“Fortune as wide as the East Sea, life as long as the South Mountain ha.”
“Stealing my lines?”
Ethan refused no one, drinking toasts one by one.
I listened to laughter, feeling unreal.
Brain buzzing, dizziness like just waking up.
His birthday, isn’t it in New Year?
Everyone toasted, only I was silent.
Charles kicked my chair leg lightly.
I snapped back from silence, holding wine glass standing up.
“I’m clumsy with words, wish President Sterling success in career, good health.”
Ethan leaned back in the chair, raising hand for someone to pass the bottle.
Drank half glass in front of him, refilled.
He raised glass casually, toasting me, drinking it all.
Charles half joking.
“Cup after cup, haven’t seen your capacity this big usually, don’t drink too much.”
He pressed his brow, tone indifferent.
“Can talk if you can speak.”
Atmosphere weird, someone threw the topic to me.
“How many years has Miss Autumn done new media?”
“Two years.”
“Results so good in just two years.” That person slightly surprised, “Solid foundation?”
I smiled, “What foundation, back then I had a speech impediment. Later graduated and did sales for a year, forcing speech fluent.”
Zack stunned, “Sales with your degree?”
People looked sideways.
“Zack, you know her?”
“Met a few times before.” Zack explained, looking at me, “Why not find an easier job?”
I mocked myself.
“Who wants an employee who can’t speak fluently?”
Every year prestigious graduates are countless, companies can choose the best.
Motivated, strong ability, energetic.
Willing to learn, self-reflecting, good image and temperament.
Introversion became a big flaw.
Poor communication skills, couldn’t pass round one.
Used to circle a safe zone with Ethan.
Always felt he wouldn’t ignore me.
With him, it would be fine.
Since someone covers the bottom, why work hard?
I escaped every day.
After all, doing one thing might encounter many difficulties.
But doing nothing, the only difficulty is making up your mind.
Until after breakup I started facing my own issues.
Can’t speak fluently, waiting to starve without finding work.
Fall recruitment, spring recruitment, thesis, graduation destination confirmation, urging employment.
I practiced retelling news broadcasts every day, gave up fall recruitment.
Spring recruitment failed again.
Soon finished thesis and graduated.
Then became a member of the unemployed army.
At a dead end, I found the gift Ethan gave me on breakup day.
Wanted to sell it, exchange for some buffer living expenses.
Opened to find a rare leather bag in the box.
And a two million dollar check.
The one his mom gave was torn long ago.
In the gift box was a new one, signed in his name.
He still left me a way out.
I sat in the cramped rental, suddenly lost control of emotions.
Everything ended.
From the moment I decided to use this money, it was parting ways, never seeing again.
With that money, I didn’t worry about livelihood.
So found a sales job.
Rejected in interview.
I stopped HR, said I didn’t want base salary.
Just give me a platform to open my mouth.
Successfully stayed.
Every morning and evening, company required employees to read work goals aloud, excited like chicken blood.
Those looking not wild enough would be nitpicked for attitude.
I let go, called out and scolded many times.
After morning reading, back to desk making harassment calls.
Hung up directly when lucky.
Cursed parents when unlucky.
Every time cursed by clients on the other side, I sincerely said thank you.
Other side confused, I took opportunity to sell insurance.
Then cursed idiot again, hung up.
When lucky, could cover rent with sales.
No one mocked my stuttering anymore.
I switched jobs, started as assistant streamer.
Promoted to streamer on face, stricter work requirements, often scolded by audience and supervisor.
Secretly cried at first.
But when I earned 50k a month for the first time, didn’t feel scolding anymore.
I love work.
I want money to fill the spent savings.
Like making up two million makes me owe Ethan nothing.
Work is busy.
Rarely have time to think of him.
I miss him very much.
Ethan focused on food.
I watched him secretly.
Picking key nodes, stating past few years truthfully.
Not far away, someone handed a business card.
“My friend’s designer brand doing promotion recently. If Miss Autumn is interested, can contact her to discuss cooperation.”
I quickly took the card.
New jewelry brand in the industry.
Invited promotion ambassadors usually famous rich wives and ladies.
Normally I couldn’t take this private job.
Charles raised a brow, “Take it if they flatter you, doesn’t count as private work.”
I put palms together bowing, whispering.
“Thank you boss.”
Turning face, met Ethan’s gaze.
He lowered eyes looking at phone, stood up leaving table.
“I’ll make a call, you continue.”
Birthday boy left, atmosphere relaxed immediately.
I stopped participating, eating silently.
Charles turned to me.
“Open another table for you next door, call Secretary Lee to send you back after eating.”
“No need, Mr. Chen eat slowly, I’ll go back myself.”
I took bag to leave.
Just out the door, uproar in the private room.
Zack jumped up pouncing on Charles.
Grabbing collar, exasperated.
“Good one Charles Chen, I kindly told you stories, you brought the protagonist to stir shit right?”
“Autumn can’t forget him, isn’t it good for them to meet? Maybe Ethan still likes her, just reunite.”
“Does he look like he’s still interested?”
Charles laughed loudly.
“Zack you haven’t dated don’t bark. I say they are guaranteed to get back together, believe it?”
Several unrecognizable voices mixed together.
“No… what are you saying?”
“What do you mean still like? That was Prince Sterling’s ex?”
“Brain damage crashing ex bureau, bro stumbled onto guillotine. Whoever joked about her apologize quickly.”
“I see no feelings left.”
“That’s best.”
Conversations faded, turning to toasting.
🌟 Continue the story here
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