Category: English

I took on a huge debt to save my fiancé’s family, turns out he’s the one who sent me to a mafia auction block. After my heart stopped for the fifth time, I’m slumped inside a dog cage, oil still slick on my skin, eyes blown out and empty. That’s when I hear them laughing outside the door. “This is rich. She really thinks she took on eighty million for Mr. Greco? That money’s his own damn cash.” “Boss was scared she was a gold digger. Set the whole thing up to see if she’d bleed for him. He thought she’d be washing dishes back here — had no clue she’s been strung up every night, passed around like a party favor.” The door swings open. The stink of blood hits them and they freeze, scrambling for their phones. So that’s it. The loan. The debt. The “selling myself to save him.” All of it — a stage play my fiancé paid for, just to test whether I’d bleed for him. Iron floods my throat. The world goes black. … When I come to, I’m wearing nothing but shredded rags barely covering me. Whip cuts everywhere, some deep enough to see meat. The iron door crashes open. A flashlight burns straight into my face. I don’t have the strength to lift a hand. I squint through swollen eyelids. And there he is. Matteo Greco. My fiancé. The man I bled eighty million for. The man who handed me to this place. His eyes hit my body — and freeze. Behind him, my best friend Vanessa slaps a hand over her mouth, faking horror like she’s rehearsed it. “Oh my God! Cora, what happened to you? Matteo only had you helping in the kitchen!” Her voice can’t hide the thrill underneath. Matteo walks closer. The reek of blood and whore-house oil hits him. He curls his lip. “Cora. I just wanted to test you. See if you’d suffer a little for me.” His voice is ice. “And what do you do? You throw yourself into a place like this. Selling yourself.” I look up at that perfect face. Something hot and the taste of blood floods my mouth. I turn my head and spit a mouthful of black blood, chunks of something inside it, right onto the toe of his shoe. Matteo jerks back two steps. “Don’t you dare play dead!” He stabs a finger at the marks on my body. “Look at yourself. Covered in this filthy oil like some cheap whore. I told you to suffer — I didn’t tell you to crawl under those old bastards!” I drag my mouth into something that might be a smile. “Matteo.” My voice is wrecked. Every word tears. “Is the show over?” “What did you say?” His face goes colder. I lift my head. The eyes that used to look at him with love are dead now. “I said. You make me sick.” His face turns to stone. Then his hand flies up — crack — and the slap snaps my head sideways into the iron bars. “You think I’m disgusting?” He’s shouting now. “You eat my money, you wear my name, and I’m not allowed to test you? You couldn’t hold a damn line. You made yourself this dirty!” Vanessa rushes in, grabbing his arm like she’s the voice of reason. “Matteo, don’t. Maybe she didn’t have a choice. Look at her — let’s just take her home.” Her gaze drifts over the bite marks on my inner thigh. She knows exactly where every one of them came from. A sick little flicker of pleasure crosses her eyes. Matteo inhales hard. Drags his glare across me one more time. “Get her out. Take her back. Let’s see if she’s still got the nerve to call herself my fiancée.” A bodyguard steps in and rips the cuffs off my wrists. The second the chain lets go, I collapse face-down into the pooled blood on the floor.

I’m dumped in the corner of his private jet, on the carpet, wrapped in a black robe one of his men threw at me. The cold is in my bones. My body convulses on its own. My teeth clack so hard I think they’ll crack. Matteo sits on the leather couch across from me, a glass of red wine in his hand. He watches me shake on the floor. For one second, something almost like guilt flickers in his eyes. The tip of his shoe nudges my shoulder. “Enough. Stop playing pitiful. You passed the test. Half-passed, anyway.” “You made yourself filthy, but at least you did it for me. When we land, you’ll get cleaned up. I’ll bring in the best doctors. The wedding goes ahead next month.” I don’t even flinch. Wedding. He throws me into hell, watches me get torn apart, then wants to put a ring on me. It’s so absurd I almost laugh. “What? Stunned by your good luck?” His brow knots when I don’t answer. He crouches down and reaches for my chin. I turn my face away. “Don’t touch me.” His hand freezes mid-air. His face drops like a stone. “Cora Lane. Don’t push me. You know what you are right now? A used-up piece of trash a hundred men have been through. I’m still willing to marry you. You should be grateful I haven’t tossed you in the river.” I open my eyes slowly. Meet his glare. The pity in it. The charity. “Matteo. You actually think if you snap your fingers, I’ll crawl back and lick your shoe?” “You—” He shoots up to his feet. Right on cue, Vanessa walks over with a glass of warm milk. She steps around me and hands the glass to Matteo. “Babe, don’t waste your breath. Her head’s not right yet.” She turns to me. Smiles. “Cora, sweetie. Matteo’s been so good to you. Where’s the gratitude? On those nights they had you strung up on the cross — didn’t you think of Matteo at all?” Matteo’s face goes white. His eyes come back to me, and this time there’s no hiding the revulsion. Vanessa pulls out her phone right on schedule. “Matteo… I didn’t want to show you this. I have a contact who works the block. He sent me something. I was going to delete it — I didn’t want to dirty your eyes. But the way she’s acting…” She lets it hang. Matteo snatches the phone out of her hand. Security footage. High definition. Me. Naked. Roped to a massive iron cross. Oil slicked over every inch of me, glittering under the lights. Below the stage, a dozen rich bastards screaming and tossing bets. Some of them howling like animals. A huge man climbs up holding an electric whip. He’s laughing as he brings it down across the inside of my thighs. Current rips through me. My body jackknifes. The sound I make doesn’t even sound like me. Then he puts his shoe on my face and makes me lick his shoe clean. It goes on. Smack. Matteo hurls the phone straight into my face. The screen shatters. Glass slices my forehead. Blood pours down instantly. “Cora!” His voice cracks — fury, and something worse, disgust so deep it’s almost grief. “You filthy bitch— you let those old bastards do that to you? You make me sick. You make me physically sick.” I lie there. Blood runs into my eyes. The world turns red. I look at his twisted face and find I don’t have a single word left to say.

The jet lands. They drag me straight to the Greco estate, down to the basement that never sees daylight. This is where Matteo used to keep his Rottweilers. The air still stinks of dogs. They chain my wrists and leave me face-down on the concrete. The iron door creaks open. “Tsk tsk. Still got that pride, huh?” Vanessa walks over and lifts my chin with the toe of her heels. “You wanna know why he locked you down here?” She crouches and leans in close to my ear, sweet poison in her voice. “Because you’re filthy. He’s scared you’ll give him something. Right now, every time he pictures you under those old men, he can’t even keep his food down.” I close my eyes. My breath is barely there. She doesn’t like that. Her eyes flash. She signals the guards behind her. “Teach her some manners.” Two of them yank me up by the arms. Vanessa pulls a small electric prod from her pocket. “Back at the auction block, they used one of these on you all the time, right? Let’s jog your memory.” She jams the prod straight into the raw, unhealed meat on my inner thigh. “AAAAAHH—!” I thought I was ready. I wasn’t. Everything goes white. My body convulses off the floor. The wound splits open. Blood soaks through what’s left of my clothes. She keeps clicking the button. Again. Again. Again. The world starts to dim. The door opens again. Matteo stands in the doorway, watching like it’s a movie. Vanessa pockets the prod instantly. The concerned-girlfriend face snaps back on. “Babe, you came down? It’s filthy down here.” Matteo walks straight to me. He has a folder in his hand. He drops it on my face. “Sign.” I force my eyes open. I can read the words. Voluntary Surrender of All Shares and Assets of Lane Holdings. Stapled behind it: Lifetime Servitude Contract. “You said you loved me, didn’t you?” His voice is ice. He’s looking down at me like I’m something on the bottom of his shoe. “You’re already ruined. So I’ll buy the rest of your life with that eighty million. You’ll be my slave. That’s the deal.” “Sign it, and I’ll bring the doctors. Don’t sign, and you rot down here.” I look at the folder. Something cracks inside me, and I start to laugh. It echoes off the basement. Thin. Awful. It doesn’t sound like me. It sets him off. “What the hell are you laughing at?” “I’m laughing…” I lift my head. I lock onto his eyes and I don’t let go. “I’m laughing because you’re never going to get what you want. Not from me. Not ever.” I pull together every scrap of strength I have left. And I spit a mouthful of blood right onto the contract. Matteo loses it. “Beat her! Beat her until she can’t move!” Vanessa’s eyes light up like Christmas. She waves the guards on. Boots come down on my ribs. My back. My face. Matteo just stands there. Watching. Cold. The fury of a man who’s never been told no. Somewhere in the haze, I make myself a promise. I’m going to live through this. And when I do, I’m going to bury every single one of them.

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The affair photos hit the trending page forty minutes ago, and my in-laws are already begging me to save the man who ruined my life. My husband’s steamy pictures with his assistant leaked online while they were on a “business trip.” His devoted-CEO image? Shattered overnight. The company stock tanked. His family showed up one by one to guilt-trip me. [Think about the big picture, Melissa. Do the right thing.] So I did what they asked. I clicked the button and posted seven clarification statements: “There is no so-called mistress in my marriage to Mr. Francis. The rumors about him and his assistant Ms. Amy Turner maintaining a love nest at Moristero Manor are simply that — rumors.” “My three miscarriages over five years were pure bad luck. They were absolutely NOT the result of a bet Mr. Francis lost to Ms. Turner.” “Mr. Francis traveling to Japan with his assistant on our wedding anniversary was strictly for business purposes.” “The monthly Porsches and Hermès bags purchased for Ms. Turner were standard corporate gifts. Nothing more.” “My family’s heirloom being given to Ms. Turner was entirely my idea. I volunteered.” “As for the viral intimate photos online — they were personally photoshoped by me.” “I owe Ms. Turner a sincere apology.” Three minutes after I posted the video, my phone buzzed. Corey — radio silent for days — finally decided to show up. In my Message. [Melissa. Take it down. NOW!] [Do it before I get back, or you know what happens.] I laughed softly and typed back: [Then I won’t wait for you to come back.] … I barely set my phone down before a voice beside me spoke. “Ms. Wood, your reinstatement request has been approved. Given the nature of the position, we’ll need confirmation that you are currently unmarried and not pregnant before departure.” I nodded. “Understood. Thank you.” After the officer left, I sat alone in the empty walk-in closet. An open suitcase lay in front of me — a few changes of clothes and an old photo album. That was it. Outside the window, the sky was fading to dark. But my phone screen kept lighting up. That “clarification” video had been live for forty minutes, and the comments had already blown past a million. Seven of the top ten trending topics were about my statement. #CoreyFrancis_AmyTurner_MoristeroManor #A_Bet_Caused_Miscarriages #MelissaWood_Apologizes_AmyTurner #CoreyFrancis Every single one — top viral. I scrolled through the comments. My fingers barely had the strength to swipe. [wasnt Corey Francis supposed to be the most devoted husband in the city? what the hell happened?] [Monthly Porsches and Hermès bags as standard corporate gifts? is the Francis Global a company or a charity?] [Francis Global doesn’t even have an office in Osaka. What kind of business trip was this exactly?] [lol someone in reddit dug up the hot spring resort they went to — it’s a couples-only spot with some VERY adult packages. ‘Business trip’ my ass.] [volunteered to give away my family heirloom? Melissa, blink twice if someone’s holding a gun to your head.] [I’ve been a paparazzi for 10+ years and this is the first time I’ve seen someone write ‘my husband is trash’ in a PR statement and disguise it as an apology. Melissa — are you asking for help?] I stared at the screen for a moment, then let out a quiet laugh. They were right. I was asking for help. Just not from them. Every single line in that statement — the public wouldn’t catch the full meaning. But Corey would. The moment I posted it, there was no going back. Not for him. Not for us. My phone buzzed again. A message without a profile picture. [Ms. Wood — the marriage certificate held by you and Mr. Corey Francis has been verified as a fake document.] I froze. I thought I’d already made peace with it — back when I first found the clues myself. But hearing it confirmed out loud, my eyes still stung.

The next morning at six, I was jolted awake by a knock on the bedroom door. It was Jody, the housekeeper. “Mrs. Francis, your husband is home.” I blinked. He wasn’t supposed to be back today. Before I could react, Corey was already standing in the doorway. Behind him — Amy Turner and Carol Sharp, the company’s PR manager. Amy was dressed in a crisp blazer, eyes red-rimmed and glistening. “Melissa, how could you post something like that? Do you have any idea what people are saying about me online? I…I can’t even leave my house…” I leaned back against the headboard, watching her trembling-lip routine, and let out a quiet laugh. “Oh, that statement? I just threw it together. Didn’t expect you to take it so personally.” “Melissa!” Corey’s voice was barely contained fury. “You’re going to delete that statement right now. Then you’re posting a new one — say the account was hacked. Say none of it came from you.” I didn’t respond. Carol pulled a document from her briefcase and handed it over. “Mrs. Francis, the PR team drafted a new statement. You just need to sign.” I took it and skimmed through. Professional wording. Pinned everything on a hacked account. “Get yourself ready,” Corey said, his voice dropping another degree. “The company’s holding a press conference at two. You’ll be there with me. You don’t have to say a word — just stand next to me and smile. The rumors will die on their own.” I looked up at him. “You want me to pretend none of this ever happened?” His expression darkened. “I’m not asking.” “I know,” I said, the smile fading from my face. “But I’m done performing for you.” I thought saying that would shake something loose in him. Guilt. Shame. Anything. But he just stood there, looking down at me with something close to impatience. Like I was the one being unreasonable. I thought about how he got me here. Step by step. Lie by lie. In the beginning, it was “Amy’s just a fresh grad, don’t overthink it.” Then it became “She’s good at her job. It’s normal for me to look out for her.” And then — she had a key to Moristero Manor. My grandmother’s jade pendant showed up around her neck. And I lost three babies. He played both sides flawlessly. Not a single crack I could find. Until the week before his trip — the company’s anniversary gala. I went upstairs to the lounge to find him. The door wasn’t fully closed. I heard him inside, drinking with his buddies. “Corey, you lost another bet to Amy? What was it this time?” His voice, careless and loose: “Bet on how long it’d take Melissa to forgive me for skipping her birthday. I said one day. Amy said one hour. I lost.” He took a drag of his cigarette, voice lazy with alcohol: “Melissa’s great, just… boring as hell. Feed her a couple sweet lines and she buys every excuse I give her. Nothing special in bed either… Last time I took her family’s jade pendant — told her some bullshit about a business partner who’s obsessed with occult, said wearing it would ward off bad luck — and she actually believed me.” Laughter erupted around him. “Good thing you never actually filed that marriage certificate. You’d be kicking yourself right now. But seriously — Amy’s way more fun. You’re not going to make it official with her?” “…maybe. Mrs. Francis? That spot fits someone like Melissa better. Doesn’t make waves, doesn’t make a fuss.” The laughter died down, and then he lowered his voice. “But this time — we can’t mess with her body again over a lost bet. Three miscarriages because of me losing to Amy… one more and her body’s really going to give out.” I stood outside that door, and the cold seeped straight into my bones. In that one moment, everything clicked into place. … The memory faded. I watched Corey walk slowly toward me. Then he smiled. “Melissa, your parents’ ashes — they’re at Rosendale Cemetery, aren’t they?”

He leaned in close, his lips almost brushing my ear. “If you don’t show up at that press conference and say exactly what you’re told to say — next time you visit them, that spot will be empty.” He straightened up and adjusted his cuffs. “Some things, Melissa, you can’t afford to lose.” My fists clenched at my sides. “Corey.” I stood up and looked him dead in the eye. “I’m done.” His steps halted. I took a deep breath. “I’m leaving. Mrs. Francis — that title, the position, all of it — give it to her. Is that enough?” The room went dead silent. Nothing but the sound of heartbeats. I waited for his reaction. Rage. A sneer. Some vicious remark designed to gut me. Any of it would have been fine. After all, this was the result everyone wanted. He’d get what he always wanted. Amy would get what she’d been scheming for. And I’d finally stop pretending. But he just stared at me for a few seconds. Then he laughed. “Leave?” He repeated the word slowly. “You have no friends. No family. No job. Where exactly are you going to go?” He reached out and gripped my chin, tilting my face up. “Isn’t this good enough? Just turn a blind eye to a few things, and we’ll call it even.” EVEN? There was nothing even between us. There never would be. I’d been counting down the days. One more month — just one — and the classified file from my old unit would be declassified. I could have laid the truth out in front of him. Proved that I never betrayed him. That what he saw that night was a cover operation, not what he thought it was… But now? I didn’t want to explain anymore. Five years. 1825 days. And this was all I had to show for it — absolutely nothing. Amy sniffled softly from behind him. Her voice came out thin and delicate. “Corey, please don’t be like this…” “Melissa.” Then she looked up at me with those wide, watery eyes. “I really never meant to come between you two. Could you please take that statement down? The comments online are so awful… My parents are terrified…” “Take it down?” I looked at her. “Without that statement, you’d still just be ‘Corey Francis’s assistant.’ Now the whole world knows your name. Isn’t that what you always wanted?” Amy’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. Corey pulled her behind him in one swift motion — that instinct to shield her, to protect her at all costs. More real than anything he’d shown me in five years combined. “Melissa!” His voice was low thunder before a storm. “I’m saying this one last time. It’s an announcement, not negotiation. Figure it out yourself.” He wrapped his arm around Amy’s shoulders, turned, and walked out. The door clicked shut. I stood there, staring at it, and felt something heavy settle over me — the kind of tired that sleep couldn’t fix. When I married him, I thought he was my safe harbor. In the end, even my dead parents became leverage in his hands. Turns out the storm was never outside. The harbor was indeed the storm itself.

Before the press conference, I was forbidden from leaving the house. I didn’t fight. Didn’t scream. I just kept telling myself — get through today. Just get through today. That afternoon, I sat next to Corey on stage and read the script, word for word. Camera flashes popped like firecrackers beneath us. Corey smiled and held my hand the whole time. To everyone watching, it looked like a perfect couple. But my palm was drenched in cold sweat. The second the press conference ended, Corey stood up and walked straight to Amy, who was waiting in the wings. I didn’t watch them. I went to a flower shop and bought a bundle of chamomile and drove to Rosendale Cemetery. It had been too long since I’d visited Mom and Dad. I kept telling myself I’d go once things calmed down. That I’d sit with them and talk, the way I used to. I kept putting it off. Almost waited too long. When I got to their spot, I froze. Where were the jade urns? In their place sat a pot of bright red roses, blooming like blood. Blooming like they owned the space. I thought I’d gone to the wrong spot. I checked the number three times. No mistake. No. No. My parents’ ashes had been here for ten years. I knew every inch of that shelf. My head started buzzing. I’d known Corey long enough to understand him. When he couldn’t do something, he’d rather watch me cry than pretend otherwise. Like the time I found traces of his affair with Amy and asked him to fire her. Just let it go, I said. Pretend it never happened. He didn’t say a word. His face just said, I can’t — he wouldn’t even bother lying about it. So when he promised that if I cooperated at the press conference, he wouldn’t touch my parents’ ashes — I believed him. I actually believed him. I stood there for a long time before I went to find the staff. “Excuse me — the urns that were here. Where… where are they?” The man at the front desk didn’t even look up. “Oh, that spot? Boss reserved it for her flowers. The ashes? Moved somewhere, I guess.” “…moved?” My voice cracked. “I paid the maintenance fees. You moved them without telling me? Get your boss here. Now.” He finally glanced up, smirking. “Our boss is Mrs. Francis — wife of the CEO of the Francis Global. And who exactly are you?” Mrs. Francis? But when did I ever— The chamomile slipped from my fingers and hit the ground. I rushed back to the spot and searched frantically. Nothing. Nothing left. My eyes burned. I turned to leave — and tripped over the flower pot. Dirt scattered across the floor. Something white peeked through the soil. I crouched down and picked it up. A shard of white jade. Engraved with the letter W. …it was a piece of my father’s urn. A hand shoved me aside. “What do you think you’re doing? That’s Mrs. Francis’s flower! You break it, you pay for it!” I stumbled back. I watched him scoop the dirt back into the pot — dirt mixed with fragments of my father’s ashes — and my whole body started shaking. “My parents’ ashes… were used as fertilizer for that flower?” He wouldn’t look me in the eye, just mumbled something about how people should focus on being good to their parents while they’re alive instead of obsessing over ashes after they’re dead. “What difference does it make where they end up?” I didn’t hear the rest. I turned and walked out. My mind was blank the entire drive back. It stayed blank until I pushed open the bedroom door and saw Amy Turner lying in my bed. That was when my brain snapped back on. Corey glanced at me, casually tucking the blanket around Amy’s shoulders. “The press conference didn’t work. The comments are brutal. She’s a mess, so I brought her here to keep an eye on her.” I stared at that look on his face — like this was the most natural thing in the world. “Corey.” My voice came out calmer than I expected. “Where are my parents’ ashes?”

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The Pack Elder frowned at me. “Maeve, the Academy slot you earned by ripping through three rounds of death matches soaked in your own blood, why is someone else’s name on it?” I found out on the last day of the posting. My Royal Guard Academy recommendation, the one I’d torn my body apart to earn, had been signed over by Silas. To Lyla Voss. An Omega with no combat record. I found Silas outside the main hall, leaning against the stone wall, arms crossed. “Lyla’s pack was wiped out,” he said without looking at me. “She has nothing. No protection, no rank. Without the slot, she’s dead.” “You’re strong enough to fight your way in through the The Blood Trials” I stared at him. Silent. Jaw locked. He frowned, reached into his jacket, and pulled out a leather pouch heavy with gold coins. He tossed it toward me. “Fine. I’ll fund your training for the next four years. Private instructors, weapons, potions, all of it. Consider it me buying your slot. Happy now?” I looked at the pouch on the ground between us. So that was it. The slot I’d bled for. The midnight hunts. The shattered bones that healed wrong. The hours sparring until my muscles tore from the bone. In his eyes, it was just a bag of coins. A charity toss to a stray. My inner wolf snarled. I forced her down. I didn’t pick up the pouch. I turned and walked away. Outside, it started to rain. Silas’s voice went cold behind me. “What the hell is your problem now? You scavenge leftover bones at that meat shop every day for scraps. I’m handing you gold and you’re acting like you’re above it?” My steps slowed. I turned my head. Looked at his face through the blur of rain. Fifteen years of loving him. Fifteen years of thinking he was mine. It all rotted through in that single moment. So I smiled. “Sure. Think whatever you want.” … I’d barely made it back to the meat shop when Bree’s voice crackled through the mindlink. Maeve, I just heard about the roster. How the hell is Lyla on it? Did Silas do this? I let out a bitter laugh. I talked to him. What did he say? He said he bought my slot. Silence in my head. Then Bree’s voice came back, raw with rage. He’s a piece of shit. I said nothing. What are you doing right now? Skinning elk. Stop skinning elk! Go to the Elder Council and raise hell! That slot is yours! Do you not remember what you sacrificed for it? I shook my head, kept working the knife. It won’t matter. How can it not matter? It’s a royal decree! If Silas can override it once, he can override it again. His father is the Alpha. The Elders won’t go against them. More silence. Finally Bree said, I just heard from the other females. Silas booked the grand feast hall for Lyla. Full celebration. The whole pack is invited. Okay. Maeve… I gotta go. Customer just walked in. I shut the mindlink. A wolf in human form walked into the shop with a fresh kill that needed butchering. I grabbed the carcass and got to work.

The next morning, I went to the pack hall to file my paperwork for the The Blood Trials In the corridor, I ran into Silas and Lyla. Lyla was clinging to his arm. The second she saw me, she ducked behind him like a scared pup. “Silas, I’m scared.” He stepped in front of me, brow furrowed. “Maeve, don’t intimidate her.” I moved to walk around them. He grabbed my wrist. His Alpha aura flared, pressing down on me like a stone wall. “What’s your attitude? Lyla didn’t do anything wrong. She didn’t have a choice! Do you have to make a scene and embarrass the whole pack?” I yanked my hand free. My wolf bristled under my skin. “Move.” My voice was sharp. Wolves in the corridor turned to look. Lyla’s tears spilled over. “Maeve, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen. If you’re still angry, you can hit me. I deserve it.” She stepped toward me, arms open, chin tilted up to expose her throat. A textbook Omega submission pose. Silas yanked her back into his chest, glaring at me. “Look what you’ve done to her! Maeve, when did you become this cruel?” Whispers started around us. “That’s the she-wolf from the meat shop, right?” “I heard she was supposed to get the Royal Academy slot, but Lyla got it instead.” “I mean, look at her face. Cold as ice. Who’d want her in their pack?” “Lyla’s so sweet. If I were Silas, I’d pick her too.” I ignored them all. Looked only at Silas. “I’ll say it one more time. Move.” He didn’t. He shoved me instead. “You’re apologizing to Lyla. Right now.” I stumbled back two steps. Hit the stone wall. Pain shot through my spine. I looked up at him. He looked back. Not a trace of warmth in his eyes. We grew up together. He was twelve when his father sent him from the capital to this border pack. A young Alpha pup with too much pride. Got jumped by a group of older wolves his first day. I was the one who grabbed a silver-tipped blade and scared them off. After that, he followed me everywhere. He hated the blood and grime on my hands. But whenever someone mocked my hearing, my dead right ear from a childhood injury, he’d bare his fangs and fight until they submitted. He said: “Maeve, I’ve got you from now on.” “You can’t hear out of one ear? Fine. I’ll be your other ear.” “When I become Alpha, you’ll be my Luna. We’ll rule this pack together.” Now he was shoving me into a wall. For an Omega he’d known for one season. Lyla sobbed harder in his arms. “Silas, forget it. Let’s just go. It’s all my fault.” He rubbed her back, voice going soft. “It’s not your fault.” He shot me one last look, pure warning, Alpha dominance rolling off him in waves, then walked away with his arm around her. I stood there for a while. Then straightened up and kept walking. On the way to the Elder’s office, I passed the announcement board. Lyla’s portrait was pinned in the center. Below it, the recommendation read: Exceptional potential. Orphaned Omega. Remarkable resilience. I almost laughed. I remembered what it was like, going back to the meat shop. My father, reeking of moonshine, hand already out. “Where’s the money?” I ignored him. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and slammed my head into the wall. “I’m talking to you! You deaf?” My right ear heard nothing. My left ear rang from the impact. “I don’t have any.” “Bullshit. That Alpha pup is loaded! You’re always hanging around him. What’s a few coins? You hiding it from me?” He slapped me across the face. Started digging through my pockets. I shoved him off. He kicked me in the stomach. Hard. Even crippled, even with one leg half-gone from the border wars, he was vicious. “You ungrateful bitch!” I curled up on the floor. Felt my organs twist. He was still screaming. “Worthless! Just like your dead mother! She-wolf trash, both of you!” He reached for the iron hook on the wall. That’s when Silas showed up. He kicked my father off me. Pulled me up. Checked my injuries. His wolf was growling low in his chest. “Where’d he hit you?” I shook my head. He took off his cloak. Draped it over my shoulders. “Don’t be scared. I’m here.” That night, he didn’t leave. Slept on the floor of the shop. The next day, he had the pack enforcers drag my father to the holding cells. He said: “Maeve, I’ll take care of you from now on.” I believed him. I really believed he’d be the one person I could count on forever. Turns out, that kind of thing can just disappear.

At the final combat trial before the Open Assessment, I placed first overall. Silas placed dead last. He crumpled his scorecard and tossed it into the fire pit. “Doesn’t matter. I’m not fighting in the Assessment anyway.” Lyla was right there, gazing up at him with worship in her eyes. “Silas, you’re so amazing.” He grinned, pinched her cheek. “Obviously. I’m inheriting the pack. Why would I need to fight?” I walked past them. Silas called out. “Maeve.” I stopped. “Still pissed about the slot?” I didn’t answer. “I know it sucked for you. But you saw Lyla’s situation. She needed it more than you did.” He walked up to me, voice softening. “Take the gold. I left three hundred coins with the vault guard under your name. Just tell him who you are and it’s yours.” He actually believed money could fix everything. Could erase what he did to me. Could buy back what I lost. “I don’t need it,” I said flatly. “Here we go again.” Irritation crept into his voice. “When are you going to drop this pathetic pride thing? You earn, what, scraps at the shop? I’m offering you more than you’d see in a lifetime.” Lyla walked over, tugging at his sleeve. “Silas, don’t say that to her. She’s just… not used to it yet.” She turned to me, pity dripping from her eyes. “Maeve, I know you resent me. But I was truly desperate. My old pack, they… they left me to die.” Her eyes went red again. The scent of distressed Omega poured off her. I watched the performance. All season, I’d watched it. Over and over. She always played the wounded pup in front of Silas. And I was always cast as the big bad wolf. “Silas promised he’d make it up to you,” Lyla said, like she was the Luna of the pack making an announcement. “Whatever you want, just tell us.” I felt the corner of my mouth twitch. I actually laughed. First time in days. Silas blinked. “What’s funny?” “I’m laughing because you two deserve each other. A match made in hell.” I said it, turned, and walked away. Silas shouted behind me. “Maeve! Get back here!” I didn’t look back. That night, Bree sent a messenger with a sketch from the feast. Silas and Lyla at the grand feast hall. He was standing at the head of the table, raising a goblet. She was curled up against him, beaming. In the background, pack members held up a banner made of stitched hide. It read: Congratulations Lyla on the Royal Slot! Long live Silas and Lyla! A note from Bree was tucked behind it. Don’t look at this. She’s not worth it. I tossed the sketch into the fire. Let the silence fill the room. Picked up my training blade. Started running drills, one strike at a time. Drowning in the work was the only way to stop thinking.

A week before the Open Assessment, the training grounds closed for the sacred hunt festival. Everyone else was out feasting. Or cramming in last-minute sparring at private dens. I was still at the meat shop. One afternoon, Silas showed up. He shifted back to human form right outside the front door. Still breathing hard from the run. He leaned against the doorframe and waved me over. “Maeve, come here.” I didn’t look up. He frowned, walked over. “I’m talking to you.” He reached for my hand, saw the dried blood under my nails, and pulled back. “Go wash up. You’re coming with me.” “Where?” “Lyla wants to visit the coastal pack. You’re coming too.” I straightened up. “I’m not going.” “Throwing a tantrum again?” He clicked his tongue. “I came all the way here to get you. Don’t be ungrateful.” “I said no.” “Why?” “I need to train.” “Train?” He laughed like I’d told the funniest joke he’d ever heard. “You could skip training entirely and still crush half the candidates.” He paused, then added, “Come on. Think of it as a break. Lyla said she wants to make peace with you.” “There’s nothing to make peace over.” Silas ran out of patience. “Maeve, I’m asking you one last time. Are you coming or not?” “No.” He stared at me for a few seconds. Then he smiled. “Fine. Have it your way.” He pulled a leather pouch from his belt and threw it at my feet. Gold coins scattered across the dirty floor. “That’s your wages for the month. I already paid your boss. Take it and stay out of my sight.” I looked at the coins on the ground. Didn’t move. “Not enough?” He tossed another pouch. “How about now?” Old Frank, the shop owner, came out from the back. He saw the scene and rushed over. “Alpha Kensington, what’s going on here? Let’s all calm down.” Silas didn’t even glance at him. He kept his eyes locked on me. “Pick it up.” I still didn’t move. Lyla climbed down from the carriage behind him. She hurried to Silas’s side, tugging his arm. “Silas, stop. You’re scaring her.” She crouched down, picking up the coins one by one. “Maeve, please don’t be mad at Silas. He’s just doing this because of me.” She held the gold out to me, tears shining in her eyes. “Please come with us. I don’t want to be the reason you two are fighting.” I looked at her. Then at Silas. There was no guilt on Silas’s face. Not even a flicker. He thought he was doing me a favor. He thought he had the right to decide everything for me. Including my dignity. I stepped around them both and walked into the back room. Silas’s voice followed me, dripping with contempt. “See? That’s her problem. Give her an inch and she spits in your face.” Then the sound of paws hitting dirt as he shifted and ran. Gone. Frank came in, sighing. “Kid, don’t take it to heart. That’s just how he is.” He picked up the coins from the floor and pressed them into my hand. “Keep it. Your situation at home, you need the money.” I held the gold. It still smelled like Lyla’s rose oil. I walked to the basin, turned on the pump, and scrubbed my hands over and over. Until my skin turned raw and red. Then I stopped. That night, my father showed up again. He took the gold. Smashed the drying racks and the salting barrels. I sent word to the pack enforcers. They came and dragged him away. Again. On his way out, he jabbed his finger in my face. “You ungrateful little bitch! Reporting your own father to the enforcers! You’ll rot in the earth!” I watched them haul him down the road. My heart was perfectly still. So this is what it feels like. When everyone in your life turns their back on you.

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I never lend money to anyone. Not because I am stingy, but because my family has passed down an ancient warning: anyone who borrows money from my hand must repay it before the third midnight bell tolls. Otherwise, the Reaper will come in person to collect the debt. My father called it the Reaper’s Debt. I was ten the first time I witnessed the curse. My classmate Ethan borrowed five dollars from me. He said he wanted to stop by the corner convenience store after school for a soda and a pack of baseball cards. The next day, when I reminded him to pay me back, he turned his empty pockets inside out and laughed like it was nothing. “It’s five dollars, Nora. Your family is loaded. Are you really that desperate for pocket change?” On the third afternoon, Ethan was found drowned in the shallow drainage canal behind the school. The deepest part of that canal did not even reach an adult’s knees. The police ruled it an accident. The second time, I was twelve. My best friend, Madison, borrowed a hundred dollars from me to buy concert tickets. On the day she was supposed to pay me back, she laughed at me in front of our lockers. “Real friends don’t chase each other for money. If you’re asking me for it, then you never saw me as a friend at all.” On the third morning, Madison was found collapsed beside the school bus stop. There were no external injuries. No history of heart disease. The medical examiner listed the cause of death as sudden cardiac arrest. When I was sixteen, our neighbor Caleb said he was sick and needed money for asthma medication and antihistamines. He borrowed two hundred dollars from me. Because it sounded urgent, I gave it to him. That night, I went to his house on purpose and reminded him not to forget the three-day deadline. Otherwise, I told him, the Reaper might come for him. “Oh my God, the Reaper? Could you be any more childish?” he laughed at me through the screen door. “Once the money is in my hands, it’s mine. If your Reaper wants it, tell him to come take it himself.” On the third day, Caleb suddenly swelled all over in the school cafeteria. He dropped to his knees and clawed at his own throat with both hands, as if an invisible hand had closed around his windpipe. I watched him suffocate to death. The paramedics said it was a rare and severe case of anaphylactic shock. Three times. Every time, on the third day. Every person who died had borrowed money from me and refused to pay it back. I was terrified, but I had no choice but to believe it. The Reaper’s Debt was real. After that, I never lent anyone a single cent again. When I kept pressing him, my father told me that one of our ancestors had once tricked the Reaper during a plague, using a silver coin to redeem the lover who should have died. The Reaper did not take his life immediately. Instead, he cursed his bloodline. From then on, if anyone owed money to our family and refused to repay it within three days, what they owed would no longer be money. It would be a life. So when my college roommate, Vanessa Reed, asked me to lend her money for a limited-edition skincare set, I refused without hesitation. “Sorry. I don’t lend money.” Vanessa was one of the most popular cheerleaders at school. She was sitting in front of the vanity in our dorm room, touching up her lipstick. When she heard my answer, she paused. “What did you just say?” “I can’t lend you money.” For two seconds, the dorm went silent. Then Chloe, another one of our roommates, burst out laughing. “Here she goes again with that story about the Reaper coming to collect debts.” Kayla laughed too. “Borrow from her and don’t pay her back in three days, and you die. So scary.” Vanessa snapped her lipstick shut. Then, without warning, she grabbed my phone and unlocked the screen with my face. “Give it back!” I lunged for her, but Chloe caught my wrists from behind. Kayla shut the dorm door. Vanessa opened my banking app with practiced ease. Her lips curved smugly. “You have five thousand dollars sitting here. Why are you so cheap?” “That’s my living expenses for the semester.” “You don’t want these pictures getting out, do you?” She suddenly held her phone in front of my face. On the screen were several photos of me in the shower. My mind went blank. “When did you take those?” “That doesn’t matter.” She slowly swiped through the photos. “What matters is that if I press send, they will be on the school forum and in every fraternity group chat on campus.” Chloe gave a low whistle. “With a body like that, you really shouldn’t be hiding it.” Kayla covered her mouth and giggled. “Maybe you’ll be campus famous by tomorrow.” Heat rushed into my face. “Tell me the verification code.” Vanessa’s thumb hovered over the send button. “Or I let all of Westbridge University enjoy these pictures for you.” In my mind, Ethan’s pale, bloated face, Madison’s body beside the bus stop, and Caleb’s desperate hands clawing at his throat flashed one after another. I could not give her the money. But I also knew Vanessa was not bluffing. In the two months since school had started, she had already used secretly recorded videos to drive another girl out. “Time’s up.” I closed my eyes and gave her the code. The next second, five thousand dollars disappeared from my account. Vanessa looked at the transfer confirmation and smiled with satisfaction. “You said people who owe you money die if they don’t pay you back in three days?” “It’s not a joke. You have to give it back before midnight on the third day.” She laughed even harder. “Then I can’t wait to see how your Reaper plans to kill me.” I said nothing else. She would never believe me anyway. The next day, Vanessa was perfectly fine. On the morning of the third day, she came back with the skincare set and deliberately piled the packaging boxes on my desk. “Looks like your Reaper forgot to show up for work.” The dorm filled with laughter. For the first time, I truly breathed in relief. But by noon that day, Vanessa had not come back. I sent several messages to my roommates asking where she was. No one answered. Chloe mocked me for not being able to live without her. Kayla said I was probably developing Stockholm syndrome. That night, the dorm supervisor told me Vanessa had submitted an emergency leave request. She said something had happened at home and she needed to be gone for a few days. My heart dropped. The Reaper had come. For the next two days, Vanessa never appeared. Then, on the afternoon of the fifth day, several police cars suddenly drove onto campus. Crime-scene tape sealed off the central lake. The dive team searched the water for four hours. At dusk, a female body was lifted to shore in a black body bag. The dead woman was Vanessa Reed. The Reaper’s Debt had come true once again. The other two girls from my dorm and I were taken to campus police for questioning. Chloe and Kayla pointed at me almost at the same time, their faces white with fear. “It was Nora! She must have killed Vanessa!” “Nora said herself that if Vanessa didn’t pay her back within three days, she would die!” “She predicted Vanessa’s death. Who else could the killer be?”

To prevent us from influencing each other’s statements, we were taken into separate interview rooms. The detective assigned to question me was Adrian Morgan. He was around forty, composed, his eyes sharp. He pushed a cup of water toward me. “Start from the beginning. What exactly happened between you and Vanessa?” I told him everything. Vanessa taking my phone. The private photos she used to threaten me. The forced transfer. And the Reaper’s Debt. Morgan did not interrupt once. Only after I finished did he slowly lean back in his chair. “So you’re saying anyone who borrows money from you and doesn’t return it within three days dies?” “I don’t want them to die. It’s a curse.” “What’s the curse called?” “The Reaper’s Debt.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “We’re investigating a murder, Nora. I need facts, not a ghost story.” “I am telling you the facts. I didn’t kill Vanessa.” His tone suddenly hardened. “A twenty-year-old girl had her face destroyed and was dumped in a lake. Before she disappeared, you told her she would die if she didn’t pay you back within three days. Now she’s dead. How do you expect me to understand that?” I did not know how to make him believe me, so I told him about the three deaths from before. Ethan drowned. Madison died suddenly. Caleb suffocated from an allergic reaction. All three cases had been ruled accidents. All three had happened on the third day after they borrowed money from me. “That’s why, after high school, I never lent money to anyone again.” Morgan stared at me. “If you knew what could happen, why did you give Vanessa the money?” I broke down and clutched my head. “I didn’t have a choice! She filmed me without my consent and threatened me with the pictures. You can check her phone.” Just then, an officer knocked and stepped inside. “The body has been recovered. The medical examiner wants you there.” Morgan stood and had me brought along to confirm the identity. The central lake was crowded with students.The body lay on a silver waterproof sheet, the black body bag already unzipped.I looked only once before my stomach turned violently. The dead woman’s face had been severely damaged. Her long hair was tangled with lake weeds. Her skin had swollen pale from the water. The female medical examiner crouched beside the body. “Preliminary time of death is more than forty-eight hours ago. The facial damage may have occurred after death, or during the agonal stage. We’ll know more after a full autopsy.” I swallowed without meaning to. Morgan noticed immediately. “You’re nervous.” “I’m scared.” “Scared of the body? Or scared we’ll find something?” At that moment, the medical examiner suddenly looked up. “There’s something here.” Using tweezers, she removed a clear waterproof pouch from the inside of the body’s jacket. The pouch had been sealed tightly. Inside was a cream-colored envelope. Half an hour later, the envelope was delivered to the station as evidence. Morgan put on gloves and opened it in front of me. There was only one sheet of paper inside. The first line was in Vanessa’s handwriting. If I die, investigate Nora Sinclair. Before I could read the rest, Morgan folded the paper away. “Nora Sinclair, from this moment on, you are no longer just a witness.You are being formally detained on suspicion of murdering Vanessa Reed.” The interrogation room lights were much harsher than the interview room’s. My hands were restrained on the table. Morgan spread the letter in front of me. “Vanessa wrote that ever since she took your money, she felt someone following her. She dreamed of a person in a black robe standing beside her bed. She also kept having impulses to jump into the lake.” He tapped the paper with one finger. “You’re majoring in behavioral science. Nearly all of your psychology grades are As. Is it possible you used long-term suggestion to push her toward death?” I almost laughed from anger. “If I were that powerful, why would I let her leave behind a letter pointing straight at me?” Silence fell over the interrogation room. Then, from outside the door, came a shrill cry. “Vanessa! My daughter!” A woman was screaming in the hallway. “You’ve already caught the murderer! Why do you still have to touch her body? I won’t allow an autopsy! I want to take my daughter home whole!” Morgan frowned. Then he suddenly looked at me again. “You say the curse is real, right?” “Yes.” “Then I’ll test it myself.” I froze, but I understood what he intended. “Lend me twenty dollars. I’ll write you an IOU and refuse to pay you back for three days.” “No!” “Why not?” “You’ll die.” “I don’t believe in the Reaper.” His voice was calm. “And for the next three days, I’ll stay in the station with paramedics on standby. If something happens to me, your story holds up. If nothing happens, then you must admit someone used this so-called curse to kill Vanessa.” I shook my head wildly. But Morgan had already written the IOU and signed his name. “This is your chance to prove you’re innocent.” In the end, I could only reach into my pocket with trembling fingers, take out twenty dollars in cash, and hand it to him. Morgan accepted the money and said quietly, “The clock starts now.”

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On the day I tried on my bonding gown, my sister Celeste said she wanted to help me decide. When I stepped out of the fitting room, Celeste was adjusting the silver-patterned collar pin for Ronan Blackridge, the Alpha no wolf in Blackridge Pack dared defy—the man I was supposed to bond with. I had just opened my mouth to say, “Let me,” when the stylist smiled and stepped toward Celeste.“This way, future Luna. Let’s try your styling over here.” I stopped short. Ronan did not correct her. Celeste only smiled shyly and leaned into him. My childhood sweetheart, Kieran, walked past me, lifted his camera, and started taking pictures of them. I stood there, stunned, like an outsider. Most of Kieran’s shots were of Celeste and Ronan. There wasn’t a single frame of me, the woman who was actually supposed to stand beside him under the full moon. Celeste sounded so natural, as if she were the one about to become Luna. “Elowen, bring me that bouquet.” When Ronan saw that I was silent, he came over and gently took the flowers from my hands. Those golden eyes of his, eyes that had once silenced rebellious wolves in the Elders’ Hall, were unusually soft now. “Elowen, why are you spacing out? Go pick the invitation design first. I’ll come over after we finish the photos.” Kieran lowered the camera just enough to show one eye from behind the lens. “Elowen, move two steps to the side. You’re blocking the light.” I moved away without a word and stood in the corner. In that moment, I finally understood how unnecessary I was. If this ceremony didn’t need me, then I wouldn’t be there. … I quietly picked up my bag from the shoe bench and pushed the door open. The wind chime rang once. No one called after me. I looked back. Celeste was turning in front of the mirror, and Ronan stood behind her, fixing the bow at her waist. Kieran held up his camera. “Yes, yes, that angle. Perfect.” The shutter clicked five or six times in a row. I turned around and walked out of the store. When I got into the car, my phone screen lit up. It was a message from the bonding ceremony planner. Miss Ashborne, the ceremony is coming up soon. Have you chosen the invitation design? Before I could reply, another message came in. Or you could let your sister choose for you. She has excellent taste. The car was silent. So quiet that I could hear myself breathing. One breath after another, as if I were counting something. What was I counting? The number of times I had been forgotten in this relationship? I typed three words and sent them. Whatever she wants. And I meant it. Whatever Celeste wanted. In the end, Ronan would listen to her anyway. The planner replied almost instantly. Got it. Thank you. I stared at those words and thought the planner must have been relieved. The bride’s decisions were always being changed. They were probably tired of revising the plans over and over, too. It was easier to let my sister decide for me. Before I could put my phone down, messages kept popping up. Kieran was uploading photos to the group chat one after another. I opened one of them. His composition was beautiful. Light fell across their faces. Ronan wore a black ceremonial suit with the silver wolf emblem of Blackridge Pack pinned to his shoulder, while my sister Celeste leaned against him as if they were the lovers about to bond beneath the full moon. I closed my eyes. My heart hurt so much I could barely breathe. I had tried so hard. I had poured so much care into this ceremony, trying to make every detail perfect. I wanted a perfect ceremony. I wanted to prove that I was worth being remembered by the man I loved. But in the end, I was still outside the frame. My phone lit up and went dark, then lit up again. Messages kept coming into the group chat. I didn’t reply. No one cared. I sent my assigned pack escort back, then drove alone to the apartment I rented. On the refrigerator was a sticky note I had written myself. Seven days until the bonding ceremony. I peeled it off, crumpled it into a ball, and threw it into the trash.

The next morning, I opened my phone. There were 99+ messages in the bonding ceremony group chat. I looked at the only voice message where Celeste had tagged me and hesitated for a moment before tapping it open. “Elowen, I changed the ceremony song for you. The one you picked was too depressing. A bonding ceremony should feel lighter.” Right after that came Ronan’s text. Yeah, the original one wasn’t right. I think Celeste’s lighter choice is better. The original one was not right? I had spent an entire month choosing that song. It was the song my parents had played at their wedding. Every time I heard it, my eyes would sting. My parents had died too young, and I had wanted them to be present in another way. Ronan knew that. Celeste knew that, too. And still, they thought it was too depressing. In the group chat, Celeste was still saying, “Elowen never likes making decisions. We can just decide these things for her.” Ronan replied with one word. Okay. I stared at that word and did not move. Messages flowed past one after another like running water. No one noticed that Elowen was in the group. No one noticed that Elowen had said nothing. My participation in this bonding ceremony was zero. I opened my chat with Ronan. Our conversation was still stuck on yesterday. I had told him, I’m a little nervous. He had sent back a head-patting sticker. As for the fact that I had left early, he had not even messaged me privately to ask what happened. He had only tagged me in the group chat last night. What happened? Were you so nervous you left early? No one answered. That didn’t matter either. Celeste posted a photo with the caption: Elowen, the styling shoot went so well today. The Luna gown is confirmed! And just like that, everything was brushed aside. Then they moved on to talking about laurel decorations, bonding invitations, and the ceremony backdrop. Suddenly, I felt that my place was not even extra. Extra meant I had at least existed once. I felt as if I had never been there at all. While I was packing my things, Celeste suddenly video-called me. I answered. On the screen, someone was doing her makeup. “Elowen, you’re taking forever. The styling team still hasn’t been confirmed, so I booked one myself. I’m testing the look first.” I looked at Celeste sitting in front of the mirror. I wanted to say something, but I did not know what to say. Two weeks ago, I had told her that my friend would personally do my bonding makeup. But it was as if she could not hear my thoughts at all. She simply decided everything for me. Had I never questioned her? Had I never been unhappy? Had I never stood up for myself? I had. But in the end, I was always given the same sentence. “Elowen, you’ve always been more mature than she is. Don’t argue with her over this.” Kieran had known me the longest, yet he always stood on her side. Then Ronan appeared and pursued me fiercely. That Alpha, known among wolves for being calm, powerful, and impossible to defy, would personally drive me home late at night and say I was adorably dazed. I thought he liked that quiet part of me. But after he met Celeste, his taste seemed to change. Without me realizing it, his words changed, too. He began saying that girls should be lively and decisive. One day, I could not hold it in anymore. “Can you stop being so close to Celeste all the time? Can you pay attention to boundaries?” I thought he would understand. Instead, he took it lightly, smiling as he rubbed my hair. “Boundaries? After you and I complete our bond, Celeste will also be under Blackridge Pack’s protection. Do you want me to treat her like a rogue at our borders?” I fell silent. Of course I did not want them to be enemies. “You’re more mature than she is. You should be more understanding.” That sentence had weighed on me for so many years that, for the first time, I felt like I could barely breathe. They had forgotten that I was only two years older than she was. I wanted a gift, too. I wanted someone to ask me, Do you like this? But no one ever cared.

I called my landlord and told him I was moving out today. On the other end, he asked, “You’re really leaving? You’ve lived there for more than four years.” Yes. Four years already. When Ronan and I first confirmed our relationship, he wanted me to move into Blackridge Pack’s Alpha residence with him. The main house was heavily guarded, home to his most trusted Beta, Gamma, and core warriors. Celeste said I should keep some private space for myself and suggested that I live alone. So I rented an apartment near Blackridge’s downtown offices, hoping I would see him more often. Ronan agreed. Sometimes, after he finished dealing with Pack matters, he would come here late at night and stay until morning. This place was filled with the sweetness of our early love, then with our arguments, our silences, and the sight of his back as he hurried away. But now, I had gathered enough disappointment. I had made up my mind to leave. “Yes,” I said. “I’m moving today.” The landlord sighed and told me to leave the keys in the mailbox. Not long after I hung up, the door was pushed open from outside. Ronan and Celeste walked in, laughing and talking. Celeste turned back and smiled at him. “You promised. After my lease ends, I can stay in your Alpha residence for a few weeks after the bonding. Save me the room in Moonshadow East Wing, the one with the bay window. And change the curtains to the pink I like.” I stood in the middle of the living room, wondering if I had heard her wrong. She said it so naturally, as if how long she would stay and how our home after the bonding would be decorated were both things she had the right to decide. Ronan did not object. His smile was indulgent. “Elowen won’t mind.” “Elowen always takes care of me. Of course she won’t mind.” I stood there, and something in my throat seemed to loosen. “What if I say I do mind?” The air went quiet for two seconds. Celeste froze. Perhaps it was the first time I had ever refused her. Before she even spoke, her eyes were already red. Ronan’s voice carried a note of reproach. “Elowen, what’s wrong with you? Usually you can’t wait to give her everything. Now you’re arguing over a single room?” “I’m not arguing,” I said. “Then what do you mean?” He frowned. “Celeste’s lease happens to be ending. She’ll only stay for a few weeks. She’s your sister, not some outsider we need to guard against. The Alpha residence is so big. What’s wrong with letting one more person stay for a while?” “That is supposed to be our home after the bonding,” I said. “The home meant for Blackridge Pack’s Luna. Who exactly is bonding with you?” Ronan choked on that. Celeste said softly, her eyes red, “Elowen, I just wanted to be closer to you. If you don’t want me there, forget it. I won’t move in.” Ronan looked at me with blame in his eyes. “Look at you. One sentence and you’ve hurt her this much. She’s your sister. Can’t you think about her?” “Then who thinks about me?” I lifted my head. “You personally arranged for her to enter Blackridge Pack’s External Affairs Office. You approved resources for her far beyond what others at her level receive. She hardly has to worry about anything. And me? I only have—” “Enough!” Ronan’s expression changed. “Be reasonable. She’s your sister. I only took special care of her because of you. Do you really have to be so petty?” Petty. That word again. I smiled and said nothing. Celeste tugged at his sleeve and whispered, “Ronan, stop. Elowen is probably just in a bad mood.” He patted her hand, and his tone softened. “Elowen, I’ve already decided. Celeste moving in is a good thing. You two sisters can stay close even after the bonding.” I nodded. Whatever. It was your home anyway. I would not be living there. Ronan let out a breath of relief. Celeste wiped the corner of her eye, though no tears had fallen, and smiled again. I turned to continue packing. Behind me came Celeste’s voice. “Can I really change the curtains to light pink?” Ronan’s voice was full of amusement. “Whatever you like.”

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On the day my grandmother Nana was in critical condition, Scott accompanied me back to my small hometown. For a second, I thought he had finally decided to put me first. But at the hospital’s billing counter, he left his phone in my hand when he went to use the restroom. The screen lit up. It was a group chat notification from his friends. “Scott, are you seriously at the hospital with Elly right now?” “Aren’t you afraid she’ll find out you only agreed to marry her because Aurora refused to see you?” “What’s there to fear? Elly is so easy to handle. A few sweet words and she’ll believe anything.” “Seriously, though. If Aurora comes back, are you still going to marry Elly?” Scott replied two minutes later: “Stop asking stupid questions. If Aurora comes back, this wedding is off.” I stood in front of the payment window, my hands trembling so hard I couldn’t even insert my credit card into the slot. Catherine walked up just then to drop off some food. She caught a glimpse of the screen and let out a sharp laugh. “Well, Elly. It turns out you’re nothing but a placeholder bride, huh?” “And here you are, telling Nana every day how good he is to you. Hilarious. If Nana heard this, she’d jump right out of her hospital bed.” Late that night, as I sat on the bench outside the ICU, I quietly canceled my bridal photoshoot reservation with Scott. Then, I opened my laptop. I took my pending transfer request to Chicago—the one I had submitted just to be closer to him—and changed it to an application for International Medical Relief.

When Scott returned from the billing department, he held a cup of iced coffee. He popped the straw in and handed it to me, his voice soft and gentle. “Drink something first, Elly. The private nurse is watching Nana.” I stared at the coffee cup but didn’t reach for it. In the past, I would have fallen for this gesture instantly. When he was two hours late for our dates, I would make excuses for him. When he refused to make our relationship public, I would tell myself he was just a private person. Only today did I realize it wasn’t that he didn’t know how to love. He just didn’t love me. Seeing me frozen, Scott reached out to brush my hair back. I stepped half a foot away, leaving his hand hanging in the cold air. Catherine stood nearby, watching the drama unfold with a smug smirk. “Come on, Elly. You’re not seriously going to throw a tantrum over some silly guys’ group chat, are you?” “Guys talk big before marriage. You should be throwing a party that you’re even marrying into the Franklin family.” “Did you honestly expect him to treat you like a worshiped goddess?” My face darkened. “Catherine, Nana is still in there.” Catherine shrugged. “I’m just speaking the truth. So what if he has someone else in his heart? He’s still marrying you in the end, isn’t he?” I looked up, my eyes cold. “Shut up.” Catherine gasped, startled, and then rolled her eyes. “The date is set, invitations are sent out. Who are you putting on this show for?” Scott finally sensed something was off. He looked at me, his brow furrowing. “Elly, did you look at my phone?” I handed the device back to him. “Yes, I did.” Scott put the phone in his pocket. I expected him to get angry at me for invading his privacy. Instead, he avoided my gaze, nervously tapping on his Apple Watch to check the group chat. Sometimes I hated having such perfect eyesight. I saw the new message pop up on his wrist: “Aurora just landed in Chicago. Scott, you going to pick her up?” The next second, he tapped a quick reply on his watch. “Stop texting. Don’t let Aurora see this.” A quiet laugh escaped my lips. So, it didn’t matter what I saw. What mattered was that Aurora didn’t see. Hearing my laugh, Scott looked up, a flash of panic crossing his face. “Elly, they were just joking.” “Were the things you said a joke, too?” Scott fell silent. That silence was louder than any confession. Catherine scoffed from the side. “Elly, that’s enough.” “Nana is holding on just to see you get married. If you call off the wedding now, aren’t you afraid you’ll literally kill her?” Slap! A sharp crack echoed through the quiet hallway. Catherine clutched her burning cheek, staring at me in absolute disbelief. “Elly! Are you out of your mind?” I looked at her, my voice dead calm. “Make one more joke about Nana, and I’ll have security drag you out of this hospital.” Catherine’s eyes welled with tears as she turned to Scott for support. But Scott didn’t say a word to defend her. Ignoring them both, I turned and walked into the ICU. Nana hadn’t woken up yet. The oxygen mask covered her face, her breathing so shallow it felt like it could slip away at any second. I sat by her bedside and took her frail, thin hand. My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was a notification from the hospital’s HR portal. 【Your application for International Medical Relief has been submitted. It cannot be withdrawn once approved.】 I tapped “Confirm.” On the bed, Nana’s fingers twitched slightly. I leaned down, tucking the blanket around her shoulders, and whispered: “Nana… I think I need to go somewhere far away.” This time, I was done waiting for someone to choose me.

Nana woke up briefly the next morning. The first thing she did was look for Scott. “Where is Scott?” Scott was in the hallway taking a business call, but when he heard the nurse call him, he hung up immediately and rushed in. He leaned down and held Nana’s hand, his tone perfectly warm and attentive. “I’m here, Nana.” Nana offered a weak, tired smile. “Good. Now I can rest easy.” “Elly has always been too soft. She keeps all her pain to herself. You have to protect her for me from now on.” Scott’s eyes reddened. “I will, Nana. I promise.” As he spoke, his Apple Watch lit up again. It was a text from Aurora: 【I’m back in Chicago. I heard you’re out of town… Is it because of her?】 Scott glanced down. That single glance was enough to shatter what little hope I had left. A few seconds later, he tapped a quick reply: 【No. My fiancée’s grandmother is in critical condition. I can’t leave right now.】 I looked down, the sharp scent of antiseptic stinging my throat. Nana didn’t see any of this. She was still smiling, her voice raspy and faint. “My Elly finally has a home…” I squeezed her hand, not daring to make a sound. The doctor called me into his office shortly after, telling me Nana’s organs were failing and that I should prepare for the worst. When I walked out, Scott was standing by the stairwell, on the phone. “Aurora, don’t overthink it. I really can’t leave right now.” I couldn’t hear what she said on the other end. After a brief silence, his voice dropped to a whisper. “We can talk about the wedding details later. You just got back, just focus on resting.” My footsteps paused at the doorway. Scott turned and saw me, his expression tightening. “Elly.” I walked right past him. He chased after me, grabbing my wrist. “Let me explain.” “Explain what?” I turned to look at him. “Explain that you didn’t stay here for me? Or explain why the wedding can be discussed ‘later’?” Scott pressed his lips together. He was rarely cornered by me like this. I used to be so understanding—so eager to please that if he even frowned, I would be the first to apologize. Catherine, returning with breakfast, immediately shoved herself into the conversation. “Elly, Nana is literally dying in there. Can’t you be a little mature? Do you have to pick a fight right now?” I looked at her. “By ‘mature,’ you mean I should just pretend to be blind?” “So what if a guy has an ex in his mind? Isn’t that normal?” She rolled her eyes. “If you actually had what it takes, you’d make him forget her. If you can’t, accept your place and stop playing the victim.” Scott frowned. “Catherine, shut up.” In the afternoon, Aurora actually showed up. Holding a bouquet of fresh lilies, she stood near the nurse’s station, looking so pristine and out of place in this drab hospital. When Scott saw her, he froze. Aurora looked at me first, a polite, faint smile on her face. “Hi, Elly. I heard your grandmother was ill, so I thought I’d stop by and pay my respects.” I turned my gaze to Scott. “You told her?” Aurora quickly spoke up for him. “Don’t misunderstand, Elly. Someone mentioned it in our mutual friend group.” She turned back to Scott. “Scott used to hate hospitals more than anything. I didn’t expect him to stay here overnight for you.” Those words felt like a slap to my face. I was the one who had been sleeplessly guarding Nana. Yet, the moment Aurora arrived, everyone assumed Scott was the one making the grand sacrifice. Scott said quietly, “Aurora, you should leave.” Aurora’s eyelashes fluttered, looking hurt. “Scott… am I bothering you? Should I not have come?” Scott’s tone instantly softened. “No, that’s not what I meant.” I couldn’t stand to watch them anymore. As I turned to walk away, Catherine whispered in my ear: “See that? They actually look like a couple. You’re just a placeholder trying to force your way into a frame you don’t fit in.” I didn’t look back. That night, my phone buzzed with a refund notification from the bridal shop. A moment later, the coordinator sent a follow-up text: 【Hi Elly, sorry to bother you, but are you sure you want to cancel? 】 【Scott originally booked this exact theme for Aurora a couple of years ago before they canceled. We thought he was finally getting to use it.】 I stared at the screen, my heart sinking into a cold, dark abyss. So, even the wedding theme wasn’t chosen for me. I was just filling a slot that Aurora had abandoned.

Nana passed away in the early hours of the third day. Before she went, she had a brief moment of absolute clarity. Only Scott and I were in the room. She weakly reached out, taking my hand and pulling Scott’s hand over to rest on top of mine. “Scott… Elly is a good girl, but she keeps everything inside.” “Please don’t make her carry things alone anymore.” Scott’s eyes filled with tears. “I won’t, Nana. I promise.” Nana then looked at me, her voice barely a whisper. “Elly, don’t be afraid… Even when I’m gone, you have to live a good life.” The tears I had been holding back finally poured down my cheeks. She passed away peacefully. Scott reached out to hug me, but I instinctively pulled away. His arms hung in the air for a second before slowly dropping to his sides. The funeral was arranged in a rush. My parents flew in from out of town. Their first question wasn’t whether Nana suffered at the end. Instead, they dragged me into a corner of the chapel. My mom whispered urgently, “When is the Franklin family wire transferring the wedding fund? Your father’s business is in a really tight spot right now.” I stared at her. “Nana just died.” Her expression soured. “I know you’re grieving, Elly, but the living still have bills to pay.” “Once you marry into the Franklins, our family will finally be secure.” Catherine, scrolling on her phone nearby, let out a chuckle. “Mom, stop pushing her. Elly is too busy throwing a tantrum at Scott right now.” My dad frowned. “The wedding date is set. All our relatives know. Don’t embarrass us at a time like this.” An overwhelming wave of exhaustion washed over me. They weren’t worried about my happiness. They were worried about losing face if I called off the wedding. And, of course, they were terrified of losing their cash cow. At the church, Scott played the part of the perfect, grieving future grandson-in-law, looking even more solemn than my dad. The relatives praised him, whispering about how lucky I was and how Nana had chosen well. On the last day of the funeral services, Aurora showed up again. Scott was stunned when he saw her. “Why are you here?” Aurora said softly, “I wanted to pay my respects to her. Please don’t be mad at me for showing up uninvited, Scott.” The surrounding relatives immediately began to whisper and stare. Catherine leaned in close, mocking me. “Wow, Elly. Even his first love showed up. You sure have a lot of influence as the fiancée.” Aurora walked up to me, her eyes filled with a perfectly practiced look of sympathy. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Elly.” She glanced at Scott. “Scott must be exhausted from these past few days. Try not to make things too hard on him.” I looked at her and suddenly found myself smiling. “Aurora, do you even know whose funeral this is?” She blinked, taken aback. I said, “My grandmother is the one lying in that casket. Not Scott.” Her face went pale. Scott instinctively stepped in front of her. “Elly, Aurora is just trying to be nice.” I turned my eyes to him. “So, her telling me not to make things hard on you is her being ‘nice’?” Scott choked on his words. Aurora’s eyes pooled with tears, looking as though she was the one being bullied. “I really didn’t mean it that way…” I didn’t bother responding. Arguing with them here would only turn Nana’s final send-off into a trashy soap opera. On the drive back to Chicago, Scott insisted on driving me. The silence in the car was suffocating. Finally, he spoke. “We can postpone the wedding. We’ll do it whenever you feel ready.” I stared out the window. “I never said I wanted to do it at all.” The car abruptly screeched to a halt by the curb. Scott’s face was incredibly dark. “Elly, don’t say things you don’t mean just because you’re angry.” “Nana just passed away. I don’t want to fight with you.” “I am completely sober and rational, Scott. Let’s call off the wedding.” He stared at me as if I had lost my mind. “Just because of a group chat?” “It’s not just that.” I looked at him and unbuckled my seatbelt. “Scott, I didn’t just decide to leave you out of the blue.” “I’ve just finally accepted the fact that you never truly wanted me in the first place.” I pushed the car door open and stepped out. He jumped out of the car and grabbed my arm. “Elly! Where do you think you’re going?” I peeled his fingers off my arm, one by one. “Anywhere is better than sitting next to you.” That night, Scott called me over a dozen times. I didn’t answer a single one. Finally, one last text lit up my screen. 【Marriage isn’t a game, Elly. We will talk when you’ve calmed down.】 I stared at it for a long moment before replying with my final text: 【There is nothing left to talk about.】 Then, I put his number on Do Not Disturb.

Even after we got back to Chicago, Scott didn’t cancel the wedding preparations. When his mother, Paula, called me, her voice was cold but wrapped in polite condescension. “Elly, Scott told me you’ve been stressed lately.” “We understand you’re grieving, but a wedding is a family merger. It’s not just about you.” I asked quietly: “If Aurora agreed to marry Scott today, would you still want me to walk through your doors, Paula?” The line went dead silent for a moment before Paula’s voice sharpened. “Elly, watch your mouth.” I laughed softly. “Does the truth hurt that much?” Paula clearly didn’t expect me to talk back. Her polite facade shattered completely. “Do you seriously think Scott can’t find anyone else?” “Let me tell you something. The only reason the Franklin family accepted you is because you were quiet and obedient.” “If you keep acting up like this, you’re the only one who’s going to end up embarrassed.” “Then let’s be embarrassed together.” I hung up. That night, I packed all my documents into a folder. My ID, my medical license, my physical exam reports—everything was ready. My colleague, Cole, walked past my desk and stopped when he saw the paperwork. “Are you really going through with the International Medical Relief deployment?” Cole was an ER attending. He was two years older than me, a man of few words but incredibly steady and reliable. I nodded. “The roster is being finalized.” He frowned slightly. “The conditions out there are much harsher than you think.” “I know. But staying here is worse.” Cole didn’t try to change my mind. Instead, he reached into his white coat, pulled out a box of cold medicine, and placed it on my desk. “Supplies are limited over there. Getting sick is a nightmare. Keep this with you.” I blinked, surprised. “Thank you, Dr. Cole.” He looked at me. “Don’t be so formal.” Once the official deployment list was posted, the hospital arranged for us to leave for pre-deployment training immediately. I didn’t tell a soul. On the morning of my departure, the sky was a dusty gray. As I rolled my suitcase into O’Hare Airport, a text from Scott popped up. 【I rescheduled the bridal shoot. You can choose whatever style you want this time. I’ll listen to you.】 I shut off my screen and didn’t reply. As the plane lifted off, I took one last look at the Chicago skyline below. This city held too many of my humiliations, and the ghost of a man I once thought I’d spend forever with. Now, it was all left beneath the clouds. The day after I left, Scott went to the hospital to find me. His car was parked by the curb, the backseat filled with new bridal catalogs. Sensing my usual delay, he finally lost his patience and called my phone. Still, no answer. Frowning, he walked into the ER lobby and stopped at the front desk. “Hi, could you page Elly from the ER? I’m here to pick her up for a wedding appointment.” The nurse blinked. “Dr. Elly?” “Yes, her.” Scott’s tone was casual, as if speaking of something entirely routine. “She’s throwing a bit of a tantrum and isn’t picking up her phone. Just tell her I’m waiting downstairs.” The nurse’s expression turned incredibly strange. A younger resident doctor nearby looked up at him. “Who are you to Dr. Elly?” Scott’s brow furrowed. “I’m her fiancé.” The resident fell silent for a few seconds before speaking in a low voice. “You don’t know? Dr. Elly is gone.” Scott froze. “What do you mean, gone?” “The International Medical Relief team left yesterday. She was in the first wave of volunteers.” It felt like the air was instantly sucked out of the room. The bridal catalogs in Scott’s hand slipped, clattering loudly onto the polished floor. But he didn’t even notice. After a long pause, his throat tightened, his voice cracking. “What did you just say?”

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Ten minutes ago, I was joking with my friend about how my wife had been complaining about a sore back lately. I even told him I was going to sign her up for some high-end private training sessions. But the next second, I spotted her white coupe parked outside a private one-on-one fitness studio. Suppressing my rising doubts, I walked up to the front desk and gave her name and phone number. “Could you check if Olivia has an appointment today?” The receptionist looked up, her eyes darting away as she forced a polite, professional smile. “I’m sorry, sir. We cannot disclose client information.” I stood frozen. A chill ran down my spine. Cannot disclose? That meant she was definitely here. Mark stared at the white coupe in confusion. “Wait, didn’t Olivia say she was out of town on a business trip? What is her car doing here?” Exactly. She supposedly flew out last night and said she wouldn’t be back until this evening to celebrate my birthday. I pulled out my phone and dialed her number. No answer. I checked the time: 11:30 AM. “Forget it, let’s just go up,” I said. This high-end private gym was located in the most expensive commercial district in the city. They specialized in one-on-one personal training, physical therapy, and premium athletic conditioning. My lower back had been acting up lately, so Mark had planned to drag me here on my birthday to check out their rehab programs. The elevator doors slid open, and the receptionist greeted us with a polished smile. “Welcome, gentlemen. Do you have an appointment?” “Yes, under Mark—” “No,” I interrupted, gently pulling Mark behind me. “My wife booked it. Olivia Clarkson.” The receptionist hesitated, glancing down at her screen. Then, she looked back up. “I’m sorry, sir. Due to client privacy policies, I can’t confirm any appointment details with you.” My chest tightened.

Mark glanced at me, immediately catching on. A woman who claimed to be out of town suddenly showing up at a high-end private gym? She wasn’t here just to work on her glutes. I took a deep breath and looked at the young woman behind the desk. “Here’s the thing. My wife mentioned she wanted to look into a rehab program for me and told me to come by today to add my name to her family plan.” “My back is really killing me right now. Can I just go sit in the lounge for a bit?” The receptionist’s smile didn’t waver. “I’m sorry, sir. Without an appointment confirmation, we can’t let you into the member area.” I nodded. “I understand. Could you do me a favor and call her to confirm?” “Just tell her James is at the front desk and ask if she could come out and get me.” The receptionist hesitated for a second. “James?” “Yes. My wife’s name is Olivia.” She typed the name into her system, found the file, and picked up the intercom. My heart leaped into my throat. “Hi, Olivia. This is the front desk.” “A gentleman named James is here. He says he’s here to complete the family registration for the program you inquired about.” “Could you come out to receive him?” There was a long pause on the other end. “Who did you say?” The receptionist turned back to me. “Sir, what’s your full name?” “James Clarkson.” “Got it.” She spoke back into the receiver. “A Mr. James Clarkson is at the front desk. Is it convenient for you to come out?” One second. Two seconds. Just when I thought she had hung up, a voice finally came through. “I’ll be right out.” The call ended. The receptionist smiled professionally. “Mr. Clarkson, you can wait in the lounge.” She was indeed here. But right now, I only knew she was at this gym. I had no idea who she was with. The receptionist wouldn’t tell me. Privacy. Isn’t it ironic? The rules protected her privacy while she was with another man, but didn’t give the betrayed spouse a single warning. My phone lit up. It was Olivia calling. I stared at her name on the screen and hit decline. A second later, a text popped up on SnapChat. “James, my company suddenly arranged a quick meeting near here. Why don’t you and Mark look around? I’ll be down in a minute.” “What did she say?” Mark asked. I turned the screen toward him. He read it, a curse escaping his lips. “Are you kidding me? How can she be so shameless?” He stared at me, looking angrier than I was. “But we still don’t know who she’s with.” I looked at the warm, elegant lighting of the studio and the neat rows of brochures. I took a deep breath. “Who said I was going to ask her right now?” “Then what are you—” “We wait for her.”

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After finding out that Austin gave Chloe a $300,000 pre-wedding gift, Brooke insisted on coming home with me to attend their wedding. In my past life, I didn’t think much of it and brought her along. But the next morning, Brooke ended up naked in Austin’s wedding bed, screaming that Austin had assaulted her. Chloe, who was five months pregnant at the time, was so traumatized that she miscarried on the spot. Austin couldn’t clear his name. He fell into a deep depression and passed away within two years. Brooke, however, used that “accident” to blackmail my parents into accepting her as their daughter-in-law. She moved into the master bedroom that Chloe had lovingly decorated and pocketed the $300,000 that was meant for Chloe. Years later, she looked at me with a smug smile and said: “Maya, the best thing I ever did in my life was going back to your hometown with you.” When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the exact day Brooke asked to join me. Brooke poked her head out from the next cubicle, her eyes glittering with anticipation. “Maya, I heard that attending weddings brings good luck. My big project is signing next month. Just to be safe, can I come home with you to get some of that good energy?” I swallowed hard, pushing my office chair back with a loud scrape. “I’m so sorry, Brooke. I actually just got a text. Austin called off the wedding.”

The light in Brooke’s eyes instantly vanished. “Called off?!” Her voice went up an octave. Several colleagues nearby turned to look at us. Realizing she had lost her composure, she quickly lowered her voice, squeezing out a worried expression. “Why would they suddenly call it off?” “Is Chloe feeling unwell?” I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug into my palms, and nodded. “Yeah, she’s pregnant.” “Austin doesn’t want her to get too tired. They’re just going to sign the papers at the courthouse first. The big party will be later.” Brooke’s eyes flickered, but she quickly put on a sweet smile. “I mean, that makes sense.” “They’re legally married anyway, and she already got the $300,000 wedding gift.” She paused, then asked as if it were just a casual thought: “By the way, Maya, did Austin really give Chloe $300,000?” I looked up at her. She immediately waved her hands. “Don’t get me wrong! I just think Chloe is incredibly lucky.” “Most guys these days complain about spending even thirty grand, but Austin casually gave her three hundred grand.” “Any girl would be blessed to marry a guy like that.” She smiled sweetly. But all I felt was a freezing chill running down my spine. In my past life, she did the exact same thing. First, she praised Austin. Then, she talked about how lucky Chloe was. In the end, she destroyed our family and moved into Chloe’s house. I forced a weak smile. “So, there is no wedding party. You don’t need to come.” The smile on Brooke’s face faded. She lowered her head, nervously playing with the corner of her folder. “It’s fine. I was being too pushy.” “I was just thinking about my big deal next month.” “The client is super superstitious about luck.” “My mom even paid a psychic who said I have a bad aura this year. She said I need to attend a close friend’s wedding to cleanse my bad luck.” “But if it’s inconvenient, forget I asked.” She forced another smile, but her eyes were red, brimming with tears. In my past life, I was fooled by this exact act. I agreed to take her home, which triggered the downfall of my entire family. Seeing her fake tears now only made me sick to my stomach. I rolled my eyes mentally, not wanting to deal with her. But just as I turned to leave, our boss, Vance, walked out of his office. “What project?” Vance frowned as he walked toward us. “Brooke, which project were you talking about?” Brooke looked startled. Her eyes grew redder as she sniffled. “It’s the deal with Mr. Zhang… our team has been working on it for six months…” “I knew he cares about good vibes, so I wanted to attend a wedding to bring some luck to the project… but Maya…” Brooke stopped halfway. Vance, not knowing the truth, immediately turned on me. “Maya, we’re all a team here. Look at Brooke, she’s putting the company first. And you? You won’t even let a coworker tag along to a wedding.” “I’m making the executive decision. You’re taking Brooke with you. The travel expenses will be covered by the company. Just submit the receipt to HR.” Other colleagues immediately chimed in. “Yeah, Maya, it’s just adding an extra plate at the dinner table.” “It’s not like your family has to adopt her.” “If this deal falls through, our team bonuses are gone.” “Don’t be so selfish, Maya.” I tried to explain that Austin wasn’t hosting a ceremony. Brooke’s eyes welled up even more. She whispered: “It’s okay.” “If a wedding is inconvenient, just a casual dinner with the couple is fine.” “I just want some peace of mind.” I was speechless. The colleagues grew bolder, throwing sarcastic remarks at me. Vance even threatened that if the project failed, I would be held fully responsible. Sitting at my desk, I felt suffocated. Brooke was still pretending to cry, but the corners of her mouth twitching upward gave away her triumph. Looking at their faces, I took a deep breath. “Fine. I agree.” “Brooke can come with me.” Vance immediately beamed, patting my shoulder. “That’s more like it! A wedding is about sharing joy, not bad luck. What’s there to be afraid of?” He then turned to Brooke. “Make sure to expense the trip. Clearing bad luck is important. Don’t be cheap about it.” Brooke smiled brightly. “Don’t worry, Boss. I won’t let the team down.” “Wait, I’m not finished yet.” I interrupted them, pulling up a destination wedding ad on my phone, and smiled. “Austin just decided to do a destination elopement. Brooke, you’re welcome to join, but the bride and groom won’t be there. That’s not a problem, right?”

I purposely emphasized the words “the bride and groom won’t be there.” Brooke panicked, grabbing my sleeve. “How does that work? A wedding without the bride and groom isn’t a wedding!” “If Austin isn’t there, how am I supposed to—” She cut herself off. I looked at her, a cold smile on my lips. “Why did you stop? How are you supposed to what?” Brooke’s eyes darted around. She quickly took my hand, acting like the victim again. “Look, I don’t want to make things hard for you.” “The psychic said as long as I can have a meal with the couple, the bad luck will be cleared.” “Maya, we’ve been colleagues for so long. Just help me out this once, okay?” She looked like she was about to cry again. Vance and the others began to frown at me. I laughed. “Fine. I’ll help you out.” Once we arrived in my hometown, I took her straight to a hotel and booked a private dining room. Brooke was stunned. “Aren’t we going to your house?” I shook my head and asked back: “Didn’t you say you just wanted a meal? Austin and Chloe will be here soon.” “Or did you only want Austin to show up?” Brooke’s face flushed with awkwardness. “What… what are you talking about?” A faint blush crept onto her cheeks. “Why would I care about Austin…” I watched her, holding back my disgust, and pushed her into the room. “Great. You’ll have dinner with the couple, and my job is done.” As soon as dinner was over, I would buy her a ticket straight back. I wanted to see how she could trap Austin this time. After ordering, I made an excuse to get some fresh air and blocked Austin and Chloe at the hotel entrance. “When we have dinner with my colleague in a minute, don’t say a word to her. And do not get close to her. Got it, Austin?” Austin looked at me with pure confusion, scratching his head. “Huh? Why?” “Don’t ask questions. Just do as I say.” I then took Chloe’s hand. “No matter what happens tonight, you must stay with Austin. Understood, Chloe?” Chloe’s face flushed red instantly. “Maya, it’s broad daylight. Why are you saying things like that…” “I’m not joking.” I stared into Chloe’s eyes, speaking slowly and seriously. “Listen to me. Tonight, you must stay by Austin’s side. Do not leave him for a single second.” “I’ll explain everything later. Just trust me on this.” Seeing how serious I was, Chloe’s embarrassment faded, replaced by a solemn nod. “Okay. I trust you.” Seeing them agree, I finally let out a sigh of relief and led them into the private room. During the entire dinner, Brooke acted exactly as expected, constantly trying to get close to Austin. She gestured for him to sit next to her. I cleared my throat, and Austin immediately took the seat furthest away from her. She tried to put food on his plate. Chloe frowned, and Austin immediately swapped his entire plate and bowl for clean ones. Then, Brooke brought up the $300,000 wedding gift, her voice dripping with envy. “Chloe, you’re so lucky. Austin is so sweet and generous. He didn’t even mind that you got pregnant before the wedding.” “Unlike me. I’m very traditional. I’ve never even held a guy’s hand…” Chloe was stunned. She turned to me, mouthing the words: “No wonder you told me to watch out for her.” I forced a bitter smile. Remembering how Chloe had miscarried from shock in my past life, my nose stung, and tears threatened to fall. As soon as dinner ended, Austin and Chloe practically ran out of the restaurant as if they were being chased. I immediately booked a train ticket for Brooke and personally escorted her to the station. Only when her figure disappeared into the crowd and the train pulled away did I finally breathe a sigh of relief. This time, things had to be different. Right? I didn’t dare go home that night. I ended up dozing off on a bench in the station waiting room. At 8:00 AM the next morning, my phone rang frantically, jolting me awake. “Maya, Austin is in trouble!”

My mother’s voice felt like a knife stabbing into my brain. I snapped awake and bolted toward the house like a madwoman. When I arrived, the front yard was already packed with people. Our relatives, Chloe’s family, and nosy neighbors—dozens of people were crowding around, whispering and shouting. Some were gossiping in hushed tones, some were crying, and others threw complicated, pitiful looks at me. I pushed my way through the crowd, my heart hammering against my ribs, a loud buzzing in my ears. Inside Austin and Chloe’s bedroom, Brooke was lying in the middle of the bed completely naked, clutching the blanket to her chest as she cried. Austin stood by the side of the bed. He was still wearing the pajamas Chloe had bought him, his face deathly pale. Chloe stood nearby, holding her pregnant belly, her eyes red and swollen. She was clearly still in shock. Seeing me, Austin’s eyes welled with tears, and he rushed over. “Maya! Maya, please explain to them! I didn’t do anything… I swear I was sleeping next to Chloe last night… I don’t even know how this girl got here…” Brooke screamed: “You’re lying! You texted me last night saying Maya left something for me and told me to come get it! When I got here, you… you did this to me! If you don’t believe me, look at this!” She pulled down the blanket to reveal a sharp bite mark on her shoulder. Austin’s voice went hoarse from screaming. “I didn’t do that!” “Then who did?” Brooke looked up, her eyes as red as a rabbit’s. “Could I bite myself on the shoulder?” The crowd erupted into whispers. Some gasped, some pulled out their phones to record, and others started shouting insults. “The poor girl is crying like that, and you’re still lying!” “His fiancée is five months pregnant, and he does this? He’s going to hell!” Chloe’s family looked furious. “You piece of trash!” Chloe’s dad, Mr. Davis, punched Austin in the face, his eyes wild with rage. “This is my daughter’s wedding house! How could you… how could you…” His eyes rolled back, and he collapsed onto the floor. “Dad!” Chloe screamed, grabbing her stomach as large beads of sweat rolled down her face. “My stomach… it hurts so bad…” My parents panicked. My mom held Chloe, crying hysterically. “How did this happen…” My dad tried to help Mr. Davis up, but Chloe’s relatives shoved him away. He crashed into the wooden table, groaning in pain. But he didn’t dare complain. He just kept bowing and apologizing. My dad, who had lived a dignified life, was now bending his spine, wishing he could bury his head in the concrete. Austin’s voice was completely hoarse. His palms were bleeding from clenching his fists so hard as he pleaded: “I really didn’t touch her…” Brooke cried even louder, a look of desperate resolve on her face, acting like a victim with nothing left to lose. “Fine! Since you won’t admit it, call the police! Let them handle it!” “I’ll make sure you rot in jail…” She reached for her phone, and the crowd started murmuring again. “If they call the cops, how many years will he get?” “His life is completely ruined.” “Well, he brought it on himself. It’s sexual assault. Who knew he was such a monster?” The comments kept coming. The light in Austin’s eyes slowly died, replaced by a hollow, lifeless stare. He knew that no matter how much he explained, nobody would believe him. My mom bit her lip until it bled, almost falling to her knees. “Please don’t call the police… please…” My dad seemed to age ten years in an instant. Watching this scene play out, my mind spun. How? I had sent Brooke away. Why was this still happening? Why wouldn’t she leave our family alone? I slowly turned my gaze to Brooke. A flash of triumph crossed her eyes, though she quickly masked it with a look of fake martyrdom. “If you don’t want me to call the police, there is another way. He has to marry me. And I want the same $300,000 wedding gift. My reputation is ruined anyway, who else would marry me now…” “No way!” Austin roared, his eyes bloodshot. “Then I’m calling the cops. You will pay for what you did,” Brooke sobbed. My parents’ shoulders slumped even further. The room fell into a tense, suffocating silence. At that moment, I finally spoke. “Fine. We agree.” Brooke’s face lit up with joy. “You agree to let him marry me?” I shook my head, my voice so calm it made everyone think I had lost my mind. “No. We agree to call the police.” “Maya!” My mom shrieked, looking at me in disbelief. I grabbed her hand, keeping my grip firm and steady. “Mom, trust me.”

Hearing that I wanted to call the police, Brooke’s body trembled. Not out of fear, but excitement. It was as if everything was going exactly according to her plan. In my past life, Brooke did call the police. With the scene, the physical evidence, and the “witnesses” all pointing to Austin, he was arrested on the spot. The lawyer said he was looking at at least twelve years. My parents couldn’t take the shock. Their hair turned white overnight. In the end, they had to beg Brooke for mercy and accept her as their daughter-in-law. Remembering my past life, I clenched my fists so tight my nails cut into my palms, but I couldn’t feel the pain. Ignoring my parents’ begging looks, I called the police. Ten minutes later, two officers arrived. “Move aside. What’s going on here?” The officers pushed through the crowd and entered the room. “Who called?” Before I could speak, Brooke burst into loud, dramatic sobs. “Officer! You have to help me! I was assaulted…” She loosened her grip on the blanket, deliberately showing the bite mark on her shoulder, crying hysterically. If I didn’t have the memories of my past life, even I would have been fooled by her acting. My dad closed his eyes, unable to watch. My mom’s hand was shaking in mine. The officer walked over, examined the bite mark on Brooke’s shoulder, and then looked at Austin. “Do you have anything to say?” Austin’s face was pale, his voice cracked. “I didn’t touch her. I was sleeping with my fiancée last night. She got up to use the restroom in the middle of the night, and when I woke up, this woman was next to me.” “I swear, I didn’t touch her!” Chloe had recovered slightly and spoke up weakly: “He’s telling the truth. I went to the bathroom last night, but when I came back, the bedroom door was locked.” “I didn’t have my phone on me… and I didn’t want to make a scene, so I just slept in the guest room. I had no idea this would happen…” Chloe closed her eyes, tears streaming down her face. The officer frowned. “So, you don’t have an alibi for the rest of the night?” Austin’s face went completely white. The officer turned to the crowd. “Did anyone else see anything?” The crowd exchanged looks. Suddenly, our next-door neighbor, Mr. Miller, spoke up. “Last night… I saw Austin pulling a woman into the yard…” “The girl looked like she was resisting… and she wasn’t pregnant… Now that I think about it… it must have been her.” Mr. Miller pointed at Brooke. “You’re lying!” Austin roared. “I didn’t see anyone last night! I was asleep in my bed! You’re making this up!” “Why would I lie?” Mr. Miller crossed his arms, sounding self-righteous. “It’s not my reputation on the line. Why would I lie to the police?” “Do you think everyone is like you, cheating on their pregnant fiancée? Disgusting!” With that statement, the case seemed clear. The officer looked at Austin with disgust, then turned to Brooke, his tone softening with pity. “What do you want to do, ma’am?” Brooke looked up, her tear-filled eyes looking incredibly fragile. “It’s simple. Everyone saw what happened. My dignity is gone. If Austin doesn’t marry me, I don’t want to live anymore.” “So, either he marries me and I drop the charges, or… I’ll press charges and send him to jail. I’ve never even been married before…” Austin clenched his teeth so hard they nearly shattered. “In your dreams!” My mom dropped to her knees. “Please, spare my son…” Brooke ignored her, continuing to sob quietly. The officer sighed and pulled out his handcuffs. “Alright, Austin. You’re coming with us…” “Wait!” I stepped forward, blocking the police from Austin. “Brooke, let me ask you one more time. Are you absolutely sure my brother assaulted you?” Brooke didn’t understand why I was asking, but she answered with firm conviction: “Of course! I barely even knew Austin before this. If he didn’t force me, why would I risk my own reputation to make this up?” Good. Very good. I smiled, wiping away the tears that had been falling since I entered the room. Pointing at the stuffed bunny on top of the wardrobe, I said loudly: “Everyone! The moment I got back yesterday, I placed a hidden spy camera inside that stuffed bunny.” “Whether Austin brought a woman in last night, or whether he touched Brooke, it was all captured on video!”

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We were getting ready to buy a house and get married, so the real estate agent showed us a crappy, 30-year-old fixer-upper that fit my budget. Chloe lost her mind right on the spot. She accused the agent of looking down on us. All of her friends lived in luxury high-rise condos. She threatened to break up with me if I dared to buy this run-down dump as our future home. Just as I was about to smooth things over and suggest we look elsewhere, a raspy, ancient voice suddenly echoed inside my head: “This girl has absolutely no eye for value! I’ve got 160 ounces of solid gold stashed inside these walls. That’s enough to buy ten of her friends’ luxury condos!” “Opportunity is literally slapping them in the face, and they’re throwing it away. No wonder they’re bound to be broke forever!” My entire body went stiff. I stared at the wall separating the living room and the bedroom, wondering if I was having a full-blown auditory hallucination. That wall was indeed noticeably thicker than the other walls in the apartment. 160 ounces of gold. At current market prices, that was worth nearly half a million dollars! Chloe shoved my shoulder. “What are you spacing out for? I am not living in this dump!” I snapped out of it. Marcus, our agent, was still standing there with a strained, polite smile. “Ma’am, I know it’s a bit old, but the location is unbeatable. It’s just five minutes from the subway, in a great school district, and most importantly, it’s a steal…” Chloe cut him off instantly. “A thirty-year-old piece of garbage? Eight hundred thousand dollars for barely 550 square feet? You call that a steal?” Marcus looked incredibly awkward. Chloe glared at me. “I’m putting my foot down, Ethan. If you buy this trash heap as our wedding house, we are done. I refuse to be the laughingstock of my friend group!” I opened my mouth to comfort her, but that raspy, old voice popped up again: “Hah! What a bunch of blind fools. I’ve also got three million dollars in cold, hard cash stuffed in the kitchen ceiling! With the gold in the walls, that’s a fortune. And they’re complaining about my house being old?” “Birds of a feather really do flock together. The girl is blind, and the guy is a spineless wimp. A match made in heaven!” My knees buckled. I almost fell to the floor. Three million dollars in cash in the ceiling?! I couldn’t help but glance upward. This was an old building, but a cheap drywall ceiling had been installed. Nothing looked out of the ordinary. Marcus quickly stepped closer to me. “Sir, do you actually think the place has potential? The elderly owner is in a rush to sell. Her late husband was a senior accountant for a major multinational firm before he retired. He was a great guy, but he passed away suddenly and didn’t leave a will.” “The old lady is terrified of living here alone. She’s moving to Europe to live with her daughter, which is why she listed it so cheap. Market value is easily over a million.” An accountant? How did he get 160 ounces of gold? And why hide it in the walls? “What about the rest of the family?” I asked. “Just the one daughter. She’s already settled abroad. It’s not easy for her to fly back. The old lady said everything left in the house is a bonus. Furniture, appliances—do whatever you want with them. She’s not taking anything.” My heart skipped a beat. So the gold in the walls and the cash in the ceiling… were considered “bonuses”? Pretending to inspect the apartment, I strolled over to the thick wall and knocked on it twice. It sounded dull and hollow. Marcus chimed in. “The best thing about these old apartments is that you can remodel the layout easily. This wall between the living room and bedroom isn’t load-bearing. Knock it down, and you double the size of the living area. It’ll look brand new.” Afraid he’d notice my suspicion, I quickly pulled my hand back and walked into the bathroom, pretending to check the pipes. “Is the price negotiable?” Marcus’s eyes lit up. “Eight hundred thousand is already rock bottom. But man, if you’re seriously interested, I can talk to her and see if she’ll shave off another twenty or thirty grand.” Chloe stared at me in absolute disbelief. “Ethan, are you insane? Are you seriously thinking about buying this trash can?” “Can’t you see the paint peeling off the walls? The bathroom is microscopic, and the kitchen doesn’t even have a window! Do you honestly think this is all I deserve?” I opened my mouth, wanting to explain, but there was no way I could tell her about the hidden treasure in front of the agent. Just then, the old voice spoke up again, dripping with mockery: “Still trying to haggle? Do you have any idea how many people are eyeing my place?” “That bastard Derek next door—he tried to marry Arthur’s daughter years ago just to bleed them dry and steal their estate. He failed back then. But now that Arthur is gone, he’s coming for this house. He’s scheduling a viewing tomorrow. If you let him snatch it, don’t come crying to me!” My brain went entirely numb. The words spilled out of my mouth before I could stop them: “I actually love this place. Let’s sign the contract today.”

Marcus immediately started rummaging through his bag for the paperwork. “That’s amazing! If we sign today, we can finalize the paperwork tomorrow!” As soon as the words left his mouth, a loud, aggressive knock rattled the front door. Marcus went to open it. Standing in the doorway was a short, middle-aged man in his thirties wearing a navy windbreaker, holding the arm of an elderly woman with silver hair. “Derek? What are you doing here today?” Marcus gasped. Derek pushed his way inside, his eyes scanning Chloe and me. “The lady wanted to take a look today. We were worried tomorrow might be too late. The place isn’t sold yet, right?” Marcus looked embarrassed. “Well… actually, Ethan here is already negotiating. He’s very serious.” “Don’t waste your time,” Derek cut in smoothly. “I’ll add fifty grand. Eight hundred and fifty thousand, all cash. I can wire the money today.” The old voice in my head instantly panicked: “I told you! That piece of garbage Derek! Years ago, he begged to be a live-in husband, but Arthur saw right through him. Now that Arthur is dead, he’s sniffing around the house. What is he planning? Does he know Arthur left a secret stash?” Adrenaline rushed straight to my brain. “I’ll add two hundred thousand!” I yelled. The room fell dead silent. Chloe stared at me like I had grown a second head. Marcus’s jaw practically hit the floor. Derek let out a mocking sneer. “You? You can pull a million dollars out of your pocket?” Marcus looked torn. “Derek, Ethan was here first…” Derek patted his jacket pocket. “I have eight hundred and fifty thousand ready to go on my card right now. I’m just worried the guy who got here first is all talk and no cash.” I clenched my fists. I only had fifty thousand dollars in my savings. The rest would have to be borrowed. But thinking about the gold in the walls and the millions in the ceiling… “I will have the full amount ready within three days. Let’s sign the contract now.” Derek gave me a cold glare. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. If you sign and can’t produce the cash, you lose your deposit.” Marcus quickly added, “That is the policy, Ethan. Are you sure you don’t want to think it over?” Chloe finally snapped. She grabbed my arm, dragged me out into the hallway, and hissed under her breath: “Ethan, are you out of your mind?! A million dollars for this dump? Where are you going to get a million dollars? Has this agent completely brainwashed you?” Looking at her furious, tear-stained face, my mind raced. Should I tell her the truth? Would she even believe me? “Chloe, please trust me just this once. This house actually has…” “Has what?” Tears finally spilled down Chloe’s cheeks. “We’ve been together for three years, and you can’t even afford a decent apartment. My friends’ husbands all bought them brand-new, luxury places. I didn’t hold that against you, but now you’re forcing me into this disgusting, crumbling dumpster! If you sign that paper, we are done. I mean it!” She turned on her heel and ran down the stairs. When Marcus handed me the pen, my hand was shaking. After signing the papers and stamping my thumbprint, Marcus tucked the contract away, grinning from ear to ear. “You’re a man of action, Ethan! We’ll start the process tomorrow. Just make sure the full payment is wired within three days.” Derek sneered at me on his way out. “You’re willing to ruin your relationship over this trash heap? Did you find something hidden in here?” My chest tightened. The old voice laughed in amusement. “This dog actually has a good nose. Does he suspect there’s gold in the walls…?” I took a step forward, blocking his view, and pointed to the vintage, hand-carved wooden bed in the bedroom. “I won’t lie to you. I bought this place for that bed.” “That’s a rare antique,” I said, pretending to be an expert as I patted the wooden frame. “If it’s authentic, it’s worth more than the entire apartment.” Marcus’s cheek twitched. “Sir… are you serious?” “Anyway, the contract says everything left in the house belongs to me. This bed is mine now. No one touches it.” Derek’s eyes flickered with suspicion. He walked over to inspect the bed, running his fingers over the carvings. His brow furrowed as he looked back at me. I didn’t give him another second to think. I ushered both him and Marcus out of the door. “Alright, I’m heading out. See you tomorrow morning to finalize things.” I rode my bike down two blocks, pulled over by the curb, and called Chloe. On my seventh try, she finally picked up. “Did you sign it?” “Yeah.” After three seconds of silence, she let out a bitter laugh. “Ethan, we are over.” “Chloe, listen to me! Last night I had this crazy dream about my grandfather. He told me that inside the walls of this apartment, there is…” Before I could finish, she hung up on me. I let out a heavy sigh. Fine. If she didn’t believe me now, she would once I dragged the gold out and threw it at her feet.

By 11 PM, unable to sleep, I snuck back into the dark apartment through the fire escape. I clicked on my flashlight and pulled a metal detector out of my backpack. Crouching in front of the thick wall, I pressed the sensor against the plaster. “Beep. Beep. Beep.” My hand trembled. I moved the sensor to different spots. The top of the wall was silent. The middle gave a weak signal. But the lower I went, the sharper and louder the beeping became. I collapsed onto the floor, my back drenched in sweat, a manic grin spreading across my face. There really was something in the wall. I sat in the pitch-black living room, laughing like a lunatic. With this money, I’d never have to work another day in my life. Who cared about a breakup? Once I showed Chloe the money, we could buy ten luxury penthouses. But my smile quickly faded. I had signed a contract for a million dollars. I had to pay it in full within three days. I had fifty thousand. I was still short by nine hundred and fifty thousand. The gold was in the wall, and the cash was in the ceiling. But without the keys and ownership, I couldn’t start demolishing the place. Where the hell was I going to get nearly a million dollars in three days? I stared at my contacts on my phone. I stopped at the name Zach—a high school classmate who now ran a high-interest payday loan business. When the call connected, Zach stayed silent for a few seconds. “Bro, are you getting scammed? That run-down apartment complex is barely worth half a million.” “Just help me out with this. You set the interest rate.” Normally, I would never dare touch hard money lenders, but this was different. In three days, the keys would be mine, and I’d tear that wall down the very same night. With millions of dollars waiting for me, what was a high-interest loan? The day the funds cleared, my dad called me, furious. “Ethan, have you lost your mind?! Zach called and said you took out a massive loan to buy a property? Since when do you flip houses?” “Your mother hasn’t slept a wink! Our family has always lived honestly, step-by-step. You’ve been brainwashed by some slick agent! Cancel the deal and get our money back right now, do you hear me?!” I gripped my phone tightly and said nothing. My dad cursed a few more times before slamming the phone down. Finally, the three-day deadline arrived. I wired the million dollars to Marcus, received the deed and the keys, and immediately changed the locks. I shut the door, pulled the curtains tight, and prepared to dig.

At 6 PM, Chloe showed up. She stood at the doorway, her eyes red and puffy, her voice shaking. “Your dad called me. He said you took out a massive, dangerous loan to buy this trash heap. Ethan, are you mentally unstable?” “Come inside,” I said softly. “Come in, and I’ll show you why.” She hesitated for a few seconds, biting her lip, before stepping inside. I dragged her over to the thick wall, knelt down, and pressed the metal detector to the base. “Beep. Beep. Beep.” Chloe froze. “What is that?” “A metal detector.” I looked up at her. “There’s something inside this wall.” Her mouth fell open. “So… your dream was real?” “Yes,” I lied smoothly. “I had to make sure, so I tested it. There’s definitely something here. I’m breaking it open tonight. If it’s gold, we are getting married tomorrow, buying a penthouse, and leaving all your snobby friends in the dust.” Her eyes welled with tears, and she threw her arms around my neck. “I’m pregnant,” she whispered against my chest. “I found out two days ago. I was going to get an abortion after we broke up…” She looked up at me, tears streaming down her face. “Ethan, please don’t let me down.” “I won’t. Everything changes tonight.” By 9 PM, the neighborhood was completely quiet. I pulled a sledgehammer and a crowbar from my bag. Chloe sat on the dusty sofa, nervously wringing her hands. Before raising the hammer, I looked at the wall and whispered, “Sir, forgive me. Once I get the money, I’ll remodel this place beautifully.” But the old voice didn’t reply. A sudden wave of anxiety hit me. But I quickly brushed it off. The detector had beeped. It couldn’t be a mistake. I swung the hammer with all my might. “SMASH!” A huge chunk of plaster shattered, revealing red bricks underneath. I dropped the hammer and clawed at the bricks with my bare hands, sending debris showering to the floor. The space behind the brick wall was completely hollow. My hands froze in mid-air. “Where’s the gold?” Chloe asked, peering over my shoulder. I didn’t answer. Like a madman, I tore away the remaining bricks. The hole got wider and wider, revealing a completely empty space inside the wall. There was absolutely nothing there. “This is impossible…” My voice trembled violently. Chloe’s hopeful expression drained into a ghostly pale. “Ethan, stop joking. This isn’t funny.” I grabbed the crowbar and began violently smashing the kitchen ceiling. The thin drywall shattered instantly, showering my head and face in thick white dust. I reached my hand inside the gap, feeling around frantically. Nothing but dust. It was completely empty. I collapsed onto the pile of shattered bricks and drywall, my entire body shaking. Chloe stood nearby, covering her mouth as tears seeped through her fingers. “Ethan… where is the gold?” I opened my mouth, but my face was dead white. “Chloe, listen to me…” She snapped. She wiped her tears aggressively. “Ethan, I’m getting the abortion. Have a nice life!” She turned and bolted out of the apartment. I sat alone in the ruins of the living room. The gaping hole in the ceiling stared down at me like a hollow black eye. The room smelled of thick dust and old mold. Suddenly, my phone buzzed. It was my dad. I answered, only to hear my mother’s hysterical, sobbing voice: “Ethan, come to the hospital right now! Your father had a massive heart attack!” “The doctors said he needs emergency surgery immediately, and we don’t have enough money for the deposit…” The phone slipped from my hand, the screen shattering on the concrete floor. “But the detector beeped… how could there be nothing…” I mumbled to the empty room. I stared blankly at the demolished wall. Just as I was about to sink into complete, numbing despair, that familiar, raspy voice echoed in my head once again. And what it said made my adrenaline surge, freezing me in place.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “432643”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

I was forced to kneel on the floor, using a pin to alter my husband’s mistress’s evening gown. My knees pressed against the cold marble floor, and an old injury throbbed as if shattered bones were grinding together. Ethan Smith stood nearby, gazing at Amber Rose with unmistakable tenderness. Those same eyes had once looked up at me as he knelt before me, swearing that if he ever cheated again, he would give up his inheritance. Now, all he said was, “It’s the first time she’s ever loved something this much. I just want to give her the best.” The needle pierced my fingertip. A drop of blood bloomed across the hem of the gown. Lowering my eyes, I quietly wiped away the blood. The only thought in my mind was this: Next week, while my flight takes off from Paris and Ethan escorts Amber down the red carpet at Milan Fashion Week, the court’s divorce papers will arrive on his phone right on schedule. Chloe POV Ethan Smith spent an entire year chasing Amber Rose, a rising young model. Over the past year, his gifts to her, from diamond necklaces to luxury yachts, had constantly made headlines in New York. And now, he was spending a fortune to host a solo fashion show for Amber. He wanted her to shine on the runway at Milan Fashion Week next week. To make that happen, Ethan actually came to me, asking to borrow a few custom gowns from my studio. One of the gowns Amber had her eyes on was my masterpiece. I had spent three years designing and crafting it for the upcoming International Fashion Design Competition. But Ethan didn’t care about my hard work. He brushed it off like it was nothing. Seeing my silence, Ethan’s face darkened slightly. “You have designed so many dresses, Chloe. Missing one won’t hurt you. You can just use another piece for your competition.” “But Amber is different. She just started modeling. The major luxury brands won’t lend her their couture lines yet.” I swallowed the bitter laugh bubbling up in my throat. But in the end, I couldn’t help but let out a cold sneer. “Well, Ethan, you can buy her a yacht. Why not just buy her a custom couture gown? Surely, the great Ethan Smith isn’t getting cheap now?” A no-name model like Amber could only rent out-of-season designs from three years ago, even with her agency’s best efforts. Sure, Ethan could buy her a brand-new season runway piece. But wearing retail luxury would only make his new mistress a laughingstock in the elite fashion circle. He obviously didn’t want that. But if Amber wore an exclusive piece from a rising, award-winning independent designer like me… The next day, her PR team could spin it as her having “unique, sophisticated taste,” solidifying her image as an elegant muse. Ethan’s expression hardened. His voice turned ice-cold. “Chloe, stop throwing a tantrum.” “A tantrum? I am your legal wife. Why would I waste my energy being angry at a mistress? Am I right, Ethan?” I looked at him, my eyes filled with nothing but cold detachment. I didn’t know if Ethan was too arrogant, or if he truly didn’t care. How could he possibly think that I could watch my own husband publicly chase another woman and feel absolutely nothing? Ethan frowned, as if suppressing his annoyance. He softened his tone slightly, trying to sound gentle. “Chloe, no one can ever take your place. You will always be Mrs. Smith.” “This is the first time I’ve genuinely liked a girl this much. I just want to give her the best.” I almost laughed out loud. Looking at the deeply emotional man in front of me, I felt a wave of absurdity. Five years ago, when I wanted to marry Ethan, his grandfather, Arthur Smith, was dead set against it. To prove my worth, I was locked in the freezing, damp cellar of the Smith estate, kneeling on the icy stone floor for three days and nights without food or water. During those three days, Ethan stood outside the locked door, crying with me. He swore to God that if he ever betrayed me, he would deserve to burn in hell. My knees were ruined that week, leaving me with chronic joint pain that could never be cured. Yet, just two years later, he cheated on me for the first time. Back then, I threw my wedding ring in his face and demanded a divorce. Ethan went crazy. He self-harmed and even crashed his sports car into a guardrail just to force me to show up. He bought a private island, knelt before me, and cried, promising that if he ever looked at another woman again, he would forfeit his inheritance to the Smith empire. I thought he genuinely couldn’t live without me. So, I agreed to take him back. But only two years had passed, and he was doing it again. My understanding, my gentleness, and my quiet compliance… In Ethan’s eyes, they had all become boring and taken for granted. Meanwhile, Amber’s wild defiance and constant rejections had reignited his urge to conquer. I forced down the rising bitterness in my chest and raised an eyebrow. “Oh? So I should thank you for keeping me as Mrs. Smith? Do I need to help you win over your mistress too?” The faint smile on Ethan’s lips vanished. He stared at me blankly. He reached out, his fingers gently tracing my brow down to my jawline. Suddenly, he squeezed hard, making me gasp from the pain. Then, he uttered cold, harsh words. “Have the dress delivered next week. I’ll write a check to double the investment in your studio.” My eyes welled with tears from the physical pain, but I just smiled silently. Ethan’s patience was thin. This was his warning sign before a blowout, and I knew better than to push him right now. But beneath my sleeves, my fists clenched so hard that my nails dug deep into my palms. Ethan let go of my face and turned to leave without another word. The moment the front door slammed shut, I took out my phone and made a call. “Grandpa Arthur, I’m divorcing Ethan. Please arrange my departure as soon as possible.” On the other end of the line, Arthur Smith let out a long sigh, but agreed immediately. “No problem, Chloe. I’ll have everything ready for you.” After hanging up, I opened my email. There lay an acceptance letter from the Paris National School of Decorative Arts. Without a second thought, I clicked the “Accept Admission” button.

Chloe POV The more Amber acted distant and proud, the hotter the passion burned in Ethan’s eyes. He turned his gaze toward me, where I sat quietly in the corner of the studio. “Chloe has a gentle heart. She won’t mind,” Ethan said smoothly. “Take Amber to the fitting room and try the dress on. See what needs to be adjusted.” I twitched the corner of my mouth, said nothing, and stood up. “Miss Rose, follow me.” The moment the fitting room curtain pulled back, even Ethan, who was used to seeing beautiful women, had a flash of awe in his eyes. The dress hugged Amber’s slender figure perfectly, complementing her cold, aloof vibe. It made her look like an ethereal fairy. Ethan’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He walked over to her, his eyes filled with intense possessiveness. “You look beautiful.” Amber rotated her wrists, but her brows knitted together slightly. “It is a beautiful dress. But the waist is too tight, and the train is a bit too long. It’s uncomfortable to walk in. I have to take huge steps, which completely ruins my posture.” Hearing her complaints, Ethan didn’t think she was being difficult. Instead, he comforted her gently and turned to order me: “Chloe, fix it for her. Adjust it until she’s comfortable.” The room went dead silent. This dress was my masterpiece for the international competition. Every single seam, every proportion was the result of countless calculations. If I altered it to fit Amber’s body, the original structure of the design would be completely ruined. More than that, Ethan was asking me, his legal wife, to act as a personal tailor for his mistress. It was humiliating. I didn’t move. I just stared at Ethan. Ethan’s brow furrowed, a hint of annoyance creeping into his voice. “Adjust it for her.” He was absolutely sure that I wouldn’t dare defy him right now. My fingers curled tight inside my sleeves. Finally, I let out a self-deprecating laugh, grabbed the pins from my sewing kit, and slowly knelt on the floor. The moment my knees touched the cold marble, an icy pain shot straight into my bones. This was the permanent damage left from kneeling in that freezing cellar for three days just to marry him. Once, during the winter, Ethan would cup my knees with his warm hands, his eyes red as he begged me to forgive him for letting me suffer. But now, he stood there, completely indifferent, watching me kneel at another woman’s feet. Seeing me kneel so submissively, Amber looked slightly uncomfortable and took a half-step back. “Mrs. Smith, you don’t have to do this yourself…” “Hold still, Miss Rose,” my voice was calm, completely devoid of emotion. “I am a designer. Altering clothes is part of my job.” I kept my head down, focusing all my attention on pinning the hem of Amber’s skirt. I did a sloppy job. In fact, I was practically ruining my own artwork. But this dress didn’t belong to me anymore. I didn’t want it. Ethan stood by, looking at Amber with warm eyes, occasionally glancing down at me. His voice softened. “Chloe, if Amber wins an award in this dress, it will be great publicity for your studio too. Don’t overthink this.” I didn’t reply. My hands trembled as a sharp pang of pain shot through my knee joints, distracting me. The sharp pin in my hand slipped and stabbed deep into my thumb. A bead of bright red blood welled up instantly. Without even flinching, I casually wiped the blood onto the inside lining of the dress, hiding the stain in the deepest, darkest fold of the fabric. “Done.” I stood up. But because I stood up too fast, my vision went black, and I swayed on my feet. Ethan saw me stumble and instinctively reached out to catch me. But then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Amber watching. Remembering how much Amber hated my status as his wife, he pulled his hand back. I caught his retreating motion, laughing silently at myself. To show his loyalty to his mistress, there was truly nothing he wouldn’t do. “The fabric of this dress is very delicate. Make sure to steam it before wearing it,” I advised flatly, purely out of professional habit. Amber looked at me with her usual haughty expression. But in front of Ethan, she managed a nod. “Thanks.” Ethan let out a sigh of relief, thinking I was finally being “obedient.” He wrapped his arm around Amber’s waist and led her out of the studio. The moment the door closed, my phone buzzed. It was a text from Grandpa Arthur’s lawyer: “Miss Chloe, your divorce petition has been fast-tracked and approved by the court.” “Your plane ticket and enrollment paperwork for Paris are all set.” I stared at the screen, slowly closing my eyes. I wiped the remaining smear of blood from my finger onto the cold marble table. A soft smile played on my lips as I looked in the direction Ethan had gone. I felt completely at peace. I was actually a little curious. Next week, when Ethan realized he was single again… How would he react? Probably not at all. Our love had died a long time ago anyway.

Chloe POV I had no idea how I managed to drag myself out of the studio and back to the penthouse. The moment I unlocked the front door, the icy pain I had been suppressing all day finally exploded in my joints. It felt like thousands of frozen needles were biting into my knees. Thud. My legs gave out completely, and I crashed heavily onto the cold floor. A cold sweat broke out over my forehead instantly. As I lay there, pale and trembling, trying to crawl toward the medicine cabinet under the table, the electronic lock on the front door beeped. Ethan walked in. He was back earlier than I expected. His charcoal grey suit carried the damp chill of the autumn rain outside. He saw me collapsed on the floor. His movements paused as he took off his shoes, his brow furrowing. “Why are you on the floor?” His tone was still gentle, but carried a hint of exasperation. “Are you still throwing a fit about pinning the dress earlier?” I was so pale my face was bloodless, cold sweat dripping down my cheeks. My voice shook with every breath. “Ethan… my knees. The chronic pain is acting up. Please… get me my medicine box…” Ethan just stood there, looking down at me. There was no panic in his eyes, only cold detachment. “Chloe, I only asked you to adjust a dress,” he said slowly, draping his suit jacket over the back of the sofa. “Don’t use self-harm to get my attention. The floor is cold. Get up by yourself.” My chest felt like it was stuffed with wet cotton, making it heavy and painful to breathe. Before I could say another word, Ethan’s phone on the sofa buzzed violently. He picked up and answered right in front of me. In the quiet living room, the driver’s panicked voice came through clearly: “Mr. Smith! Miss Rose insisted on getting out of the car on the coastal highway! She refused to take your car and won’t let me follow her!” Ethan’s calm face instantly shattered. “Keep an eye on her! Follow her slowly! I’m coming right now!” He hung up without a second thought, grabbed his jacket from the sofa, and turned to rush out. “Ethan…” Using the last of my strength, I dragged myself forward and grabbed the hem of his trousers. My knuckles turned white from the sheer effort. Ethan’s footsteps stopped. He looked down at his gripped trousers, then at my pathetic state on the floor. He knelt down slightly, reached out with his long fingers, and grabbed my wrist. Then, one by one, he forced my fingers off his pants. “Chloe, she’s out in the rain,” Ethan said, his voice steady and flat. “She’s too stubborn. If I don’t go, she’ll walk in the storm until morning before she ever asks anyone for help.” He pried my thumb away and stood up straight. “You know how to take care of yourself. Take some pills and go to sleep.” He looked down at me, his eyes showing a touch of cruelty. “Babe, don’t make trouble for me right now.” With that, he threw his coat over his arm, turned around, and walked out the door without looking back. The heavy front door clicked shut. I collapsed back onto the cold floor, staring at the closed door. Amber was walking in the rain, refusing his car and his men. Yet he was frantic, terrified she would catch a cold, rushing to find her. Meanwhile, I was lying here, in too much pain to even crawl, and he abandoned me. I didn’t shed a single tear. I quietly listened to the roar of his sports car engine fading into the rainy night. Slowly, I let my stiff fingers relax. Looking at my empty palms, I let out a soft, relieved laugh.

Chloe POV I dragged myself through the long, agonizing night on the cold floor. It wasn’t until daylight broke that the worst of the bone-crushing pain in my knees finally subsided. Drenched in sweat and exhausted, I pulled myself onto the sofa and swallowed two strong painkillers. Just then, my phone vibrated. Ethan’s name flashed on the screen. I answered. There was no question about how I was doing after last night. “Did you see the news? Come to the office immediately.” His voice was laced with obvious frustration. I leaned back against the sofa, my voice weak from the night of agony. “What happened?” “Someone snapped photos of me picking Amber up on the highway last night. Now the internet is saying she’s my mistress,” Ethan said coldly. “This is going to ruin her show next week. You need to clear this up.” My grip on the phone tightened. The wound on my thumb from yesterday’s pin prick was red and swollen, throbbing painfully. “How do you want me to clear it up?” “The driver is outside your door. Just come to the office. PR has the statement ready for you.” Before I could answer, he hung up. Half an hour later, I arrived at the Smith Group headquarters. Dragging my legs, which were still numb with pain, I walked into the VIP lounge of the executive suite. The room was already packed with cameras and reporters. Ethan was standing in the corner. My eyes followed his gaze. Amber was sitting on the sofa, looking as cold and aloof as ever. She was flipping through some runway materials, seemingly annoyed by the drama surrounding her. Ethan stood beside her, whispering something to her with absolute tenderness. When the PR director announced that the live stream was about to start, Ethan stood up and walked over to sit next to me on the love seat. He glanced at my pale face and whispered in a voice only I could hear, “Amber’s reputation can’t be ruined. This show is crucial for her.” The live stream started. The flashbulbs were blinding, and the reporters’ questions were sharp: “Mrs. Smith, reporters photographed Mr. Smith and Amber acting intimately last night. Is it true that Amber has come between your marriage?” Before I could speak, Ethan reached over and squeezed my hand tightly as it rested on my knee. He squeezed with immense force. His palm pressed directly onto my swollen, injured thumb. The wound that had barely clotted split open instantly. Sticky blood rushed out. A sharp, agonizing pain shot up my arm straight to my brain. I shivered violently from the pain. But Ethan didn’t notice a thing. He looked directly at the cameras, smiling warmly. “Those rumors are completely false.” His voice was firm and confident. “My wife, Chloe, is an incredibly talented independent designer, and Miss Rose is a key model we are collaborating with.” Ethan turned his head slightly, looking at me with deep affection. But beneath his amber eyes lay a cold, demanding threat. “Isn’t that right, Chloe?” The throbbing pain in my hand intensified as blood seeped into the cracks of Ethan’s fingers. Looking at the man in front of me, a wave of nausea washed over me. Suppressing both the pain in my hand and my knees, I forced a perfect, elegant smile. “Yes,” my voice was calm and steady. “Both my husband and I highly appreciate Miss Rose’s talent. The rumors of her being a mistress are completely baseless.” With that single statement, the PR crisis was instantly resolved. The moment the live stream ended and the cameras turned away, Ethan let go of my hand immediately. Without glancing at my bloody fingers, he stood up and walked straight toward Amber in the corner. “It’s done,” he said softly, his voice full of warmth. “Everything is cleared up. Come on, let me take you out to eat.” Amber closed her folder and stood up, her face still cold. “No thanks, Mr. Smith. I have a photoshoot later.” She walked right past him and headed out the door. Despite being ignored in public, Ethan wasn’t angry. Instead, a helpless, indulgent smile crossed his face. He didn’t even look back at me as he quickly followed her out. In the massive lounge, I was left entirely alone. I sat on the sofa. Looking at my bleeding thumb, I suddenly felt a strange sense of relief. I pulled a tissue from my pocket and slowly wiped the blood from my hand until it was completely clean. Then, I unlocked my phone and opened the chat with Arthur’s lawyer: “What time is my flight?” The lawyer replied instantly: “Monday morning, 9:00 AM. Private hangar.” I locked my screen and stood up slowly. What a coincidence. That was the exact same day Ethan was taking Amber to Milan for her big red-carpet debut.

Chloe POV As soon as the press conference ended, Amber went up to the rooftop to shoot her promotional posters. Ethan demanded that I accompany them. His reason was non-negotiable. “You’re the designer of the dress. If anything goes wrong with the gown during the shoot, you need to fix it immediately.” It was freezing on the rooftop. My thin clothes offered no protection against the biting wind, and every step I took felt like walking on knives. After only two setups, Amber suddenly stopped and glared at her hemline with frustration. “What’s wrong?” Ethan rushed over, his voice dripping with worry. “The seam is ripped,” Amber complained, her cold face twisting with annoyance. “I can’t shoot like this. I’m leaving.” She turned toward the elevator. Ethan grabbed her wrist, soothing her gently. “Don’t be mad. I’ll have it fixed right away.” He turned his gaze toward me, standing in the corner. “Chloe, come sew this up.” I looked at the dress. It was obvious that the seam had been intentionally snipped with scissors. I didn’t call her out. I just walked over and said calmly, “She needs to take it off first. Otherwise, the tailoring will be ruined.” “No way. Taking it off and putting it back on takes too long. It’ll ruin my flow,” Amber rejected instantly. Ethan looked at me and said, “Just sew it while she’s wearing it. Work around it.” I looked at Ethan, finding the situation utterly ridiculous. Sewing it while she wore it meant I had to kneel on the ground to reach the hem. “My hand was injured and got infected last night. I can’t hold the needle steady,” I said, showing him my swollen, red thumb as a final plea. Ethan frowned, a flash of impatience crossing his eyes. He didn’t seem to think my injury was a valid excuse. His tone remained smooth, but his words were merciless. “It’s just a couple of stitches, Chloe. Don’t make everyone stand in the cold waiting for you.” I looked at him, and suddenly, I smiled. Without saying another word, I pulled out my needle and thread, slowly bent my knees, and knelt at Amber’s feet. The moment my knees hit the concrete roof, a sharp pain shot through me. Cold sweat instantly soaked my back. My fingers were so stiff they barely worked. I struggled to hold the tiny needle, forcing it through the heavy fabric. The wind grew stronger. Amber shivered. “Are you done yet? I’m freezing.” Without a thought, Ethan took off his heavy designer coat and wrapped it tightly around Amber. He used his own body to block the freezing wind, shielding Amber completely in his arms. Meanwhile, I knelt at their feet, bearing the brunt of the icy wind alone. Ethan didn’t spare me a single glance. All his attention was on Amber, asking her softly if she was still cold. My fingers grew completely numb. My hand slipped, and the sharp needle plunged deep into my thumb again. Blood welled up instantly, staining the inside of the skirt. “What are you doing?!” Amber gasped. “Don’t get blood on my dress!” Ethan finally looked down. Seeing the blood on my hand, there was no worry in his eyes, only annoyance. He felt like I was ruining his moment with Amber. “Wipe the blood off and finish it quickly,” Ethan said coldly. I said nothing. I quietly put my thumb in my mouth, sucked the blood away, and went back to sewing. For ten agonizing minutes. When I finally bit the thread off and used the wall to pull myself up, my legs were completely numb. “Done.” I didn’t look at either of them. Dragging my stiff body, I turned and walked toward the elevator.

Chloe POV For the next few days, Ethan didn’t come home. Occasionally, I saw headlines of him and Amber attending high-society parties together. I also heard he was making meticulous preparations for Amber’s upcoming runway debut. But I didn’t care about those mocking news articles anymore. Whenever I had free time, I researched my upcoming courses at the Paris school. I couldn’t show up completely unprepared. Grandpa Arthur’s lawyer sent me my flight details on Sunday evening. But unfortunately, because of the freezing wind on the rooftop, I came down with a high fever on Saturday night. I had always been sensitive to the cold. Now, my body fluctuated between burning hot and freezing cold. My head throbbed painfully. I was worried I wouldn’t be able to board the flight on Monday. I lay weakly in bed, lacking even the strength to open my eyes. The bedroom door pushed open, and Ethan walked in, wheeling a suitcase. He walked over to the closet and began packed his clothes methodically. He didn’t even notice my pale, sweaty face. Only then did I remember that Monday was also the day Ethan and Amber were leaving for Milan. The grand fashion show he spent millions on. I closed my eyes. My heart no longer felt pain. Only a dead, numb silence. “Ethan,” I squeezed out the last bit of my strength to look at the man in his pristine suit. “I have a fever. Can you get me a glass of water?” Ethan paused his packing. He turned around, walked to the bedside, and touched my forehead. “Why don’t you take better care of yourself?” A weak, humorless smile touched my lips. Yes. If a woman doesn’t even love herself, how can she expect anyone else to love her? I used to be so stupid. But I never would be again. Ethan frowned. He was about to get me some water when his phone rang. Seeing the caller ID, Ethan answered immediately. Within seconds, his voice grew anxious. “How could she just disappear? Wait for me, I’m coming right now.” “Don’t worry about the flight on Monday. Everything will be fine.” Hanging up, Ethan zipped his suitcase closed. He quickly poured a glass of water, tossed some flu medicine on the nightstand, and looked at me with a mix of guilt and impatience. “Remember to take the medicine. I have an emergency. I’ll fly straight to Milan on Monday. Let’s celebrate our anniversary when I get back.” I was a bit dazed. Right. Our wedding anniversary was in a few days. He actually remembered. But I had completely forgotten. I didn’t ask him to stay. I watched him turn around and leave the penthouse without hesitation. As the front door locked, the entire place fell into a grave-like silence. I lay there quietly, feeling the fever drain the moisture from my body. After a long time, I slowly raised my hand, looking at my wedding ring. When Ethan slid this ring onto my finger years ago, he swore that if he ever betrayed me, he would lose everything. I slowly slid the platinum band off my ring finger. Then I rolled over, closed my eyes, and drifted into a heavy sleep. The next day, my fever went down a bit. I got up to clean the place. Because tomorrow was not only the day Ethan and Amber flew to Milan… It was also the day I would leave him forever and fly to Paris. I didn’t waste a single second. I dragged out several heavy black trash bags. Everything Ethan had given me over the years, I threw away. I didn’t even touch the millions of dollars worth of jewelry in the safe. I simply texted Ethan’s assistant to have them cleared out tomorrow. I only packed the things I had brought with me. In the study, I found the sketches of the custom tie clips I had designed for Ethan over the years. I fed them into the shredder without hesitation. Finally, I stood in front of our massive wedding portrait in the living room. I calmly smashed the glass frame, pulled the photo out, and set it on fire. Suddenly, the front door lock beeped. Ethan walked in. He was in a rush, probably having forgotten something. His footsteps stopped dead in the middle of the living room. He looked at the two packed suitcases on the floor, then at the ashes of our wedding portrait still smoldering in the trash can. His brow furrowed tightly, irritation flashing in his eyes. “Chloe, you use this trick way too often. It’s getting old.” His tone was still calm, but carried a condescending smirk. In his mind, my packing was just another desperate attempt to get his attention. Two years ago, when I threw my ring and packed my bags, he had begged on his knees. Now that I was doing it again, he just found it annoying. I zipped up my last suitcase, not even looking up at him. “My things are packed. I didn’t take a single thing of yours.” Ethan adjusted his cuffs and walked over to me. “Are you really going to keep throwing this tantrum just because of the Milan show?” He sighed. “This show is incredibly important to Amber. I have to be there. Be good, okay? When I get back next week, we’ll talk.” “No need,” I said, lifting my suitcase. “We have nothing to talk about.” Ethan’s face darkened completely. I knew he hated this quiet, detached version of me the most. “Fine,” he snatched his forgotten documents from the table and walked toward the door, his voice cold. “Just a reminder: the Smith family trust meeting is next Wednesday. As Mrs. Smith, you are required to attend.” He was absolutely sure I wouldn’t leave. He was sure I would show up next Wednesday, standing meekly by his side as his perfect wife. I looked at his back and gave him a perfectly calm reply. “Okay.”

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