Category: English

They all say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. For thirty years, I believed them. Every single day, I’d craft new dishes for my husband, David. His stomach was weak, so I was careful with every pinch of salt. Then came the storm. I saw him with my own eyes, his arm wrapped around his old flame, Linda, in a cheap diner, the two of them lovingly sharing a single ice cream cone. I returned home, soaked to the bone, only to stumble upon his hidden medical report: stomach cancer. So, not only had he betrayed me, but he was also planning to let me wither away by his side, none the wiser, so he could cash in my life insurance and run off with her. The worst part? The absolute joke of it all? He had the audacity to ask Linda to learn my recipes, to “take over for me” when I was gone. Fine. If he wanted to eat from two kitchens, I’d be more than happy to plan his menu. If Linda made him crab, I’d serve a rich tomato stew. If she seared him lamb chops, I’d prepare a refreshing watermelon salad. Let’s just see how long his broken body could take it. 1 After I retired, I started posting videos of my cooking online. My followers always said a talent like mine shouldn’t be confined to a home kitchen. Last month, someone recommended an international culinary competition. All expenses paid, a trip around the world, a huge cash prize for the winner, and even funding to open your own restaurant. It was an incredible offer, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t tempted. But my hand hovered over the application page for what felt like an eternity. I just couldn’t bring myself to click. My husband, David, had a terribly weak stomach. He needed constant, meticulous care. For thirty years, my carefully prepared meals were the only thing keeping him going. Without me, he wouldn’t have made it this long. I treated him like a king, but he treated me like the hired help. If a dish was too salty or too bland, if the porridge was too thick or too thin, he’d throw his chopsticks down and demand I remake it. For his health, I endured it. For thirty years. This morning, he surprised me by asking me to buy a chicken to make a broth. A warmth spread through my chest. He never liked chicken soup—but I loved it. And today was my birthday. But just as I bought the chicken, the sky opened up in a torrential downpour. I quickly called him, but he just screamed at me. “You idiot! Can’t you do one simple thing right?” He hung up. The little warmth I’d felt was instantly extinguished. I ran home through the rain, but my feet froze when I saw the diner downstairs. There was David, huddled under a single umbrella with his old flame, Linda, the two of them cooing as they shared an ice cream cone. David wrapped his arm around her. “I had the old woman make you some chicken soup. I’ll bring it over tonight to help you warm up.” Linda pouted playfully. “Who wants chicken soup? I want soda and ice cream. I want to be your sweet little baby.” “Of course,” he cooed back. “You’ll always be my sweet little baby.” I stood there in the pouring rain, smelling the stale cooking oil on my clothes and looking at the blisters on my hands. In that moment, I finally understood just how foolish I’d been for thirty years. When I got home, I was soaked through, but I didn’t bother changing. I went straight to the bedroom and started packing. The competition organizers had said there was a flight tonight. Just then, David walked in. As always, his first words to me were, “Hurry up and make dinner.” I ignored him, continuing to pack my suitcase. When he saw I wasn’t moving, his voice rose. “Are you deaf? I’m talking to you! Did you get the chicken? Get in there and make the soup!” I zipped my suitcase shut and finally looked up at him. “I’m leaving. The house is all yours.” He stared at me for a second, then his face twisted in anger. “What’s gotten into you? So I didn’t pick you up in the rain, and now you’re throwing a fit? I was busy helping a friend!” 2 I stared at the corner of his mouth, where a faint smear of ice cream remained. “A friend? What friend?” He licked his lips reflexively. “Just an old friend. You wouldn’t know her.” “The doctor said your spleen is weak. You can’t have cold things. Next time you and Linda have a date, maybe you should eat something else.” With that, I grabbed my suitcase to leave, but he lunged forward and seized my arm. “You were following me! Have you no shame?” I ripped my arm from his grasp. “You’re asking me about shame?” He faltered for a moment, then, unbelievably, he smirked. “Yeah, I saw Linda. So what? Can’t old friends catch up? Why are you so damn paranoid?” I looked at his smug, uncaring face and remembered the time I’d served him soup that was slightly too cool. He’d slammed his bowl on the table and screamed at me all night. Now, to please Linda, he was ignoring his doctor’s orders. Suddenly, the fire in my chest fizzled out. It felt like even being angry was a waste of energy. I didn’t say another word. I just picked up my suitcase and walked out of that house without looking back. On the way to the airport, he called me relentlessly. I ignored every call. A few minutes later, my son called. “Mom, what are you doing? Where are you going to go without Dad? I’m out of state, I can’t take care of you!” “Don’t worry,” I said flatly. “I won’t be a burden to you.” I had just hung up when my daughter’s call came through. I sighed, speaking before she could. “I already told you, you don’t need to worry about me!” There was a pause. “Mom, what are you talking about? I got a raise, and I wanted to take you out for a nice dinner. It’s your birthday.” Hearing her words, the tears I’d been holding back finally broke free. I poured out all the hurt and humiliation from the day. The line was quiet for a few seconds. “Mom,” she said, her voice firm. “You go. Don’t worry about a thing. Even if you lose the competition, it doesn’t matter. I’ll take care of you from now on.” I clutched the phone tighter, a wave of relief washing over me. At least I still had my daughter. “I promise you, honey, I’m going to win. You just wait for me.” At the airport, the texts from David started flooding in: “You’re sixty years old, stop acting like a child! It was just a damn ice cream cone! Get back here and make dinner, I’m starving!” I was done with his nonsense. I turned off my phone. But as I reached the gate, a staff member stopped me. “Ma’am, airline policy requires passengers over sixty to present a recent health report before boarding.” “But I’m in perfect health! Look, I can carry this heavy suitcase with no problem. I’m fine, really.” “I’m sorry, but it’s the rule.” The competition organizer tried to help. “There’s another flight tomorrow morning. Why don’t you go home and get the report?” I gazed at the boarding gate and sighed heavily. Fine. One more night. As soon as the sun came up, I would be free. I heard the sound of laughter as I approached my front door. When I pushed it open, the scene inside made me freeze. David and Linda were on my bed, their clothes in disarray. Linda scrambled to her feet, frantically straightening her shirt. “Susan, don’t get the wrong idea! I was just making David some dinner. You should have some, too.” I let out a cold laugh. “No, thank you. I’m afraid I might catch something.” “What the hell are you talking about?” David snapped. “If it wasn’t for Linda, I would have starved! You’ve got a lot of nerve coming back here! I thought you were so tough.” I ignored him and started searching for my health report. He kept yelling. “Since you’re back, you better start behaving! You pull that face with me again, and you won’t see a single penny from me!” Linda awkwardly picked up her purse. “Well, since Susan’s back, I should probably get going.” 3 David rushed to see her out. I heard their hushed voices from the doorway. “David, you should go check on her,” Linda whispered. “I think she’s looking for that health report.” “Let her find it! Maybe when she sees she has terminal stomach cancer, she’ll finally shut up and stay by my side where she belongs.” “What do you mean? You mean you still have feelings for her?” “Of course not! While she’s alive, she’s a free maid. When she’s dead, I get a fat insurance payout. I’m going to use her until there’s nothing left!” I stared at the report in my hands. My own name, my own diagnosis: mid-stage stomach cancer. My mind went blank, and my hands started to tremble uncontrollably. The man I had painstakingly cared for for thirty years didn’t just see me as a free maid. He was actively waiting for me to die. I looked at the pot of chicken soup still simmering on the stove, and a cold resolve settled over me. If that’s how he wanted to play it, then I would stay. And I would put my heart and soul into every single meal I made from now on. The moment David walked back in, I ladled a bowl of chicken soup and placed it in front of him. “Drink this while it’s hot. I even added a few slices of ginseng for you.” He eyed me with suspicion. “What’s this all about?” I let out a soft sigh. “You’re right, I overreacted today. It was foolish to make such a scene over an ice cream cone.” A smug grin spread across his face. “It’s about time you came to your senses. Besides, where would you go without me?” My voice cracked as I replied, “You’re right. At my age, where else could I go? This house is all I have.” I pushed the soup towards him. He took it and drank the entire bowl in one gulp. I reached for a napkin to wipe his mouth, but he shoved my hand away. “Pathetic. From now on, just stick to your cooking and stay out of my business.” I nodded. “Don’t worry. I’ll be sure to put my heart into every meal.” As the words left my mouth, he clutched his stomach. “Ow! Why does my stomach suddenly hurt so much?” Watching him stumble towards the bathroom, I clenched the empty bowl in my hands. Ginseng and ice cream. That was just the appetizer. David, your reckoning is coming. From the day I “surrendered,” David became even more brazen. At first, he would meet Linda in secret. Now, he brought her right into our home. “You need to teach Linda how to cook properly,” he told me, his tone matter-of-fact. “That way, when you’re gone, she can take over for me.” I gripped the spatula so hard my nails dug into my palm. The old bastard! I wasn’t even dead yet, and he was already training my replacement. Linda chimed in with a sickeningly sweet smile. “David always says what an amazing cook you are. If you teach me, I can help out and you can finally get some rest.” The old me would have sent them packing with a hot pan. But now, I just smiled and nodded. “Of course. I’d be happy to. Just tell me what you want to learn.” And so, David began eating from two kitchens. He’d have lunch at Linda’s, then come home for the dinner I prepared. On the first day, I taught Linda how to make spicy crab. That evening, I served him a hearty beef and tomato stew. On the second day, I showed her how to pan-sear lamb chops. For dinner, I made a chilled watermelon and lotus seed soup. On the third day, I taught her a simple spinach stir-fry. That night, I made him scrambled eggs with loofah squash. In just three days, David’s face turned as sallow as old newspaper. He spent most of his time clutching the toilet, moaning in pain. The doctor couldn’t find anything wrong with him, just advised him to watch his diet and avoid street food. Hearing this, David became even more dedicated to eating our home-cooked meals. 4 A week later, he was nothing but skin and bones. That day, Linda stewed beef for him. I, on the other hand, prepared only a small plate of sugar-roasted chestnuts. When he came home that night, he slammed his briefcase down and flew into a rage. “The doctor told me I need to eat well to protect my stomach, and this is the crap you serve me?” I slowly peeled a chestnut, my voice low. “Do you remember what day it is?” “What day?” “It’s our thirtieth wedding anniversary.” I pushed the peeled chestnut towards him. “The day we got our marriage license, you peeled them for me just like this. You said our life together would always be as sweet as these chestnuts.” He scoffed, his face a mask of impatience. “We’re almost seventy. You really think I have time for this sentimental garbage? Just go make some real food!” I rose slowly, my eyes locked on his. “Do you know why you’ve been having such terrible diarrhea lately?” “Spicy crab with tomato stew. Seared lamb with watermelon soup. It was all part of a menu I carefully designed, just for you.” He shot to his feet, stumbling back a few steps. “What are you saying? You’ve been poisoning me?” I just stared at him in silence. He scrambled to the sink and began to retch violently. “You venomous bitch! I’m calling the police!” A cold smile touched my lips. “Go ahead. Call them right now.” I slapped the life insurance policy down on the table. “Let’s have the police see who bought a massive policy on me. Let them see who deliberately hid my cancer diagnosis from me. Let them see who’s been praying for me to die every single day!” He stared at me for a few seconds, and then a slow, cruel smile spread across his face. “So, you know. No point in hiding it anymore.” “That’s right, I’m waiting for you to die. But I didn’t give you terminal cancer. You can only blame your own bad luck for that.” “I suggest you go back to being a good little wife and taking care of me. You wouldn’t want to make this a bigger mess, would you? If you’re good, I might even buy you a nice burial plot.” I looked at his disgusting face and started to laugh. I pulled another health report from my bag and laid it in front of him. “Such a shame. I went back to the hospital a few days ago. Turns out, they made a mistake. They mixed up our names on the reports. The one with stomach cancer is you, David. Not me.” He snatched the report, his hands trembling as he read it. His face drained of all color. After a long moment, he looked up at me, his eyes wide with fear. “What are you going to do to me?” “You have terminal cancer. Do I really need to do anything? The divorce papers are on the table. I’ve already signed them.” “I’d suggest you call your dear Linda to take care of you. After all, your little pension won’t be enough to hire a nurse.” “Susan,” he whispered, his voice pleading. “You’re joking, right? This is a joke.” I let out a final, cold laugh, picked up my suitcase, and walked out of the house. He screamed my name behind me, but I didn’t turn back. This time, with a clean bill of health in my hand, I passed through security without a problem. But just as I was about to step onto the jet bridge, two police officers stopped me. “Are you Ms. Susan Clark? We’ve received a report that you are a suspect in an attempted murder. Please come with us.”

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During the holiday weekend road trip, Mark insisted on stopping at the abandoned rest stop. He said the car was stuffy and he needed some fresh air. He promised he’d be right back. I waited alone in the car for a full twenty minutes. A gnawing unease made it impossible to just sit there, so I finally got out to find him. When I reached the derelict gas station, the scene before me struck me like a bolt of lightning—Mark and Katina were locked in a passionate kiss. Katina was nestled in his arms, her voice a seductive purr. “Isn’t this thrilling? Your wife is waiting in the car, and you’re out here doing this with me.” Mark let out a low chuckle, his tone indulgent. “You little minx. Keep it down, you don’t want to make my wife angry.” I froze around the corner, my mind flashing back to when he was trying to win me over. I’d told him then that I despised cheaters more than anything in the world because my own father had ruined my mother’s life that way. He had looked me in the eye and said with the utmost seriousness, “Audrey, I would never do that to you. If I ever do… I’m yours to command.” Now, he had betrayed me after all. And everything I had ever given him—it was time to take it all back. 1 I answered a phone call, then turned and walked back to the car. “Audrey!” Mark called out from behind me. I didn’t stop. Katina’s voice followed, laced with tears. “Audrey… I’m so sorry… It’s all my fault…” I pulled open the driver’s side door. “Audrey.” Mark caught up, blocking my way. “Give me the keys,” I said, my voice trembling. “My grandmother is dying. I have to go see her one last time.” “I’ll have someone take care of things with your grandma,” he said after a pause. “The best specialists. They can be there tonight.” I stared at him. Katina had followed, her eyes red as she whispered, “Audrey, please don’t blame Mark… It was me… I seduced him…” Her voice broke, and she hunched her shoulders, looking like a frightened rabbit. Mark glanced at her, then back at me. “Look at her,” he said, his eyes filled with a pained tenderness for her. “She’s a wreck. What more do you want from her?” Katina kept her head down, her shoulders shaking as tears splattered on the pavement. I suddenly remembered her first day at the office. She had stood timidly at my door, holding a bubble tea. “For you, Audrey.” I never drank it. Mark said he did, and that she was a sweet kid. Later, I took pity on her, a girl who had clawed her way out of a small town all by herself. It wasn’t easy. I helped her with everything, at work and in her personal life. When I couldn’t help, I asked Mark to. And just like that, they helped each other right into the same bed. “Mark,” I said, turning to face him. “My grandmother raised me. She’s in the ICU right now, and I need to see her one last time.” “You know how much she means to me, Mark.” My voice was shaking uncontrollably. He didn’t say anything. My phone vibrated again. A text from my mom: Grandma is fading. Where are you? I gripped the phone, my knuckles turning white. Mark saw it. He was silent for a moment, then reached out and gently wiped a tear from the corner of my eye. “Don’t cry,” he whispered, his thumb resting on my cheek for a second. “Grandma will be fine. Trust me.” “Just let her apologize,” he said. “She feels terrible. All you have to do is nod. Then I’ll give you the keys.” Katina sniffled beside him, nodding. “Audrey… please accept my apology… I’ll never be able to live with myself if you don’t…” My grandmother was waiting for me. “Fine,” I said. Katina immediately started, “Audrey, I’m so sorry, it’s all my—” “That’s enough,” I cut her off, my eyes fixed on Mark. “The keys.” Mark handed them to me. “Drive safe. I’ll stay with Katina for a couple of days, and then I’ll come find you.” I ignored him, got in the car, and slammed the door. I put the key in the ignition and turned. The engine roared to life. The car didn’t move. I tried again. The wheels were stuck fast. I got out and saw a large, dark puddle spreading on the ground beneath the car. Someone had punctured the gas tank. Mark walked over and glanced under the chassis, frowning. Katina bit her lip, her voice a tiny whisper. “Audrey… I did it. I just wanted a little more time with Mark… I’m sorry…” Mark reached out and tucked a stray piece of my hair behind my ear. “Don’t be angry,” he said. “I’ll have someone come fix it later.” “You wait in the car,” he said, turning to put his arm around Katina. “I’ll see if I can find some tools.” Katina leaned into his embrace and glanced back at me. Tears still stained her cheeks, but the corner of her mouth twitched into a faint smirk. The sight of them walking away together, his arm around her, was like a knife in my eyes. Just then, my phone buzzed. It was a text from my mom: [Honey, Grandma keeps calling your name. Please hurry.] I stared at the words, my hand clenching around the phone. Then, I pulled the diamond ring from my finger. 2 I had to see my grandmother. I searched the entire rest stop. There were no other cars. No other people. No tools. The cell signal was spotty at best. I finally found a place with a decent connection and called for roadside assistance. But the nearest tow truck wouldn’t be able to get here until morning. A section of the highway had collapsed. I hung up just as Mark walked over. “Audrey, let’s just wait until morning,” he said. “Look, you’ve scraped your arm. Come on, don’t make me worry.” I ignored him. A moment later, my phone lit up. It was my grandmother. I answered immediately. “Grandma.” “Audrey…” Her voice was so weak. “When will you be here?” “I’m on my way, Grandma. I’ll be there soon.” “Oh, honey, I miss you. When you were little, you used to love curling up in my lap and having me tell you stories…” “Grandma, save your strength—” “I’m afraid I’m running out of time,” she said with a soft laugh. “When your grandpa passed, I never got to say a final goodbye. Audrey, you have to live a good life.” Tears streamed down my face. “Audrey, that boy, Mark. Is he good to you?” I didn’t answer. “Audrey.” Mark came up behind me. “Let me use your phone,” he said. “Katina’s is dead, and she needs to send a work email.” I clutched the phone tighter and turned my back to him. “I’m on a call. My grandmother—” “I know,” he said, stepping in front of me. “Just for a minute. She’ll give it right back.” “No.” Mark’s brow furrowed. From the phone, I could hear my grandmother’s faint voice: “Audrey? Honey, are you still there?” “Audrey,” his voice dropped, “this client is crucial for Katina. It determines whether she gets a permanent position.” “I said no.” Katina had appeared at some point, standing behind Mark, her eyes red. “Audrey… please… just for a second… it’s really urgent…” Her voice trembled, and fresh tears welled up. “I won’t be long… I’m begging you…” Mark saw her tears, and when he looked back at me, his expression had hardened. “Give it to me.” He held out his hand. I hid the phone behind my back. “Mark, my grandmother is in the ICU—” He didn’t let me finish. He grabbed my wrist and pried my fingers open. He was so much stronger than me. I held on, my nails digging into my own palm. “Mark!” He yanked it free. He turned and handed the phone to Katina. She took it, tears still on her face, and immediately started typing. I stood there, frozen. My grandmother’s last word, “Audrey?”, echoed in my ear. I wanted to snatch it back. Mark blocked me, his face clouded with anger. “It’s one minute. Can’t you wait?” I looked into his eyes. The same eyes that used to look at me with so much love. Now, there was nothing there. Katina finished and handed the phone back. I looked down. The screen showed her social media profile. She had just posted a new picture. It was a photo of her and Mark at the gas station. His arm was around her waist, and her head was resting on his shoulder. The caption read: [Happy holiday weekend! So happy to be out with my man] I stared at the words. Posted from my phone. A picture of her with my husband. During my grandmother’s last phone call. I looked up at Mark. He glanced at the screen and said dismissively, “She’s just messing around. Why are you making such a big deal out of it?” Messing around. I looked back at my phone. The call with my grandmother had been disconnected. I tried to call back. Her phone was off. I stood there, shaking. Mark came over. “What’s wrong?” I didn’t look at him. “The call with my grandmother dropped.” “Her battery probably died—” Mark was silent for a few seconds. “I’ll figure something out first thing in the morning,” he said. “Don’t panic.” Don’t panic. My grandmother could be dying. She could already be— And he was telling me not to panic. I lifted my head and looked straight at him. “Mark.” “Yeah?” I held his gaze. “Let’s get a divorce.” 3 Mark’s expression finally changed. “What did you just say?” “A divorce. We’ll file as soon as we get back.” He stared at me for a few long seconds. “Audrey—I…” “Ahh—!” Katina’s shriek cut him off. She was crouched by a bench, clutching her leg, her face pale. “A snake! There’s a snake!” she cried, her voice trembling. “It bit me…” Mark glanced at me. Then he turned and ran to her. He knelt down, examining the wound on her calf. Katina grabbed his arm, sobbing hysterically. “Mark, am I going to die…?” “No, you’re not.” Mark ripped a strip of fabric from the bottom of his shirt and tied it tightly above the bite. Just then, we heard the sound of an engine in the distance. Help had arrived. A tow truck pulled up, and the driver hopped out. “You the ones who called for a tow?” Mark stood up and pointed at Katina. “She’s been bitten by a snake. We need to get her to a hospital, now.” The driver looked at Katina’s leg, then at me. “There’s only room for two in the cab. You can ride on the flatbed, but it ain’t safe.” Mark didn’t hesitate. He pulled open the passenger door and helped Katina inside. Then he looked back at me. “Audrey, you wait here. I’ll take her to the hospital, then I’ll call a car for you.” “How long will I have to wait?” I asked. “It won’t be long.” It won’t be long. Again. He got in the truck and closed the door without a moment’s hesitation. I watched, paralyzed, as Mark drove away with another woman. And he left me here. I stood alone at the rest stop. No car. No signal. No water. No food. Mark never looked back. He wasn’t coming back for me. I knew it. Not because he didn’t care anymore, but because he was so sure that I would wait for him. Just like every other time he’d told me to wait, and I had. I rummaged through my bag in the trunk and took stock. Wallet, ID, one credit card. It was enough. I started walking along the highway. I didn’t know how far it was to the next town, or how long it would take. The blisters on my feet had already burst, and every step was agony, but I didn’t stop. 4 After about an hour of walking, headlights appeared behind me. A trucker pulled over. “Hey there, what’s a young lady like you doing out here all alone?” “My car broke down. Could you give me a ride? Just to the next town with a train station.” “Hop in.” In town, I bought a ticket for the earliest train. Once on board, I borrowed a power bank and turned on my phone. Dozens of messages flooded in. Not a single one was from Mark. I dialed my lawyer’s number directly. “Mr. Harris, I need you to draw up divorce papers.” “I want him to walk away with nothing.” There was a pause on the other end. “Leave him with nothing? That’s going to be difficult, unless there’s proof of gross misconduct—” “He had an affair. I have proof. Also, that major client his company has, Vertex Corp? I was the one who brought them in. Their contract is up for renewal next month, and I’ve already spoken with them. They won’t be renewing.” “…Understood. I’ll draft the agreement immediately.” After hanging up, I called my assistant. “Sophie, book me a flight out of the country for this afternoon. Anywhere. The sooner, the better.” “Ms. Vance, are you alright?” “I’m fine,” I said. It was two days before Mark finally had his assistant contact me. “Ben, I need you to get in touch with Audrey for me. Her phone’s off. Tell her I’m at the hospital, Katina is still in critical condition, and I can’t leave. Tell her to wait for me at the rest stop, I’ll send someone for her later.” Ben hesitated. “Mr. Arnold, Ms. Vance… she’s already back.” “What?” “Sir, we’ve… we’ve received a divorce agreement from her lawyer. And… a notice of contract termination from Vertex Corp.” Mark’s mind went completely blank. He stood frozen, all the strength draining from his body. He didn’t move for a long time. “Mr. Arnold? Sir, are you still there?”

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1 A sudden car crash left me lying on the operating table. The moment the anesthesia failed, I opened my eyes in agonizing pain. The lead surgeon standing over me was my husband, Dr. Roe Hayes. His face showed absolutely no surprise. His voice was as casual as if he were discussing the weather. “The people who hit you were your parents,” he said. The words pierced my heart like an ice pick. I trembled, trying to demand an answer, but he didn’t even blink. The cold surgical instruments moved inside me. His voice carried a sick sense of vindictive pleasure. “A year ago, you caused my sister to miscarry. She almost died.” “Now, I am personally removing your three-month-old fetus. Consider us even.” When he held up that tiny, unformed embryo right before my eyes, the reality of what I had just lost finally hit me. A gut-wrenching, soul-tearing hatred surged up my throat, only to be swallowed by a deeper, physical agony. He ordered the nurse to dispose of the tiny life, then turned back to me, his tone conversational. “We either get a divorce so I can openly give her the happiness she deserves…” Seeing my face covered in tears, he added one final condition. “…Or we stay married, but you must accept me taking care of her. You are never allowed to cause her trouble again.” Those words were the final straw that crushed my already snapping nerves. My vision went black, and I passed out entirely. When I opened my eyes again, I was lying in a hospital recovery room. Roe was sitting by the bed, holding a steaming bowl of chicken soup. His gentle tone made it seem like the nightmare in the operating room had never happened. “I made this for Chloe. She couldn’t finish it, so she told me to bring it to you to help you recover.” Hearing the tenderness when he said the name Chloe snapped me back to reality. A wave of nausea hit me. I violently slapped the hot soup away. “Tell me,” I rasped. “When did the two of you start sleeping together?” The bowl shattered on the floor, the scalding liquid burning the back of my hand. Roe slowly wiped the spilled broth from his scrubs. His expression shifted to one of cold amusement. “Hard to say. If you mean the first time we slept together, that was a year ago on our wedding anniversary. Right there in my office. For as long as you kept calling my phone, we kept going.” A loud ringing exploded in my ears. My mind went completely blank. So that night, they had been together the entire time. No wonder I called him dozens of times and he never picked up, only texting back hours later saying he had just gotten out of surgery. I thought he was saving lives. I didn’t blame him. I even brought him late-night takeout. Not long after that, my younger sister, Chloe, was beaten so badly she miscarried after being caught sleeping with a married man. She called me for help. Worried about her reputation, I quietly paid off the angry wife and stayed by Chloe’s side in the hospital until she was discharged. It was exactly after her surgery that Roe’s attitude toward me turned freezing cold. He constantly used being “on-call” as an excuse to not come home for days. Our intimacy dropped from three times a week to me begging just to get his attention once. I thought the distance was just because we were both so busy with our careers. So, I gave up my chance to be promoted to regional manager. I became a stay-at-home wife, dedicating my life to taking care of him. People laughed at me for throwing away my career, but I did it willingly because I loved him. I thought if I just tried harder, our marriage would go back to how it used to be. I never imagined his heart had already been given to someone else—and that someone was my own sister. He had even murdered my deeply longed-for child just for her. I stared dead at Roe, my throat so raw I could barely make a sound. “I’m so sorry, Val!” My sister, Chloe, suddenly burst into the hospital room. With red, teary eyes, she threw herself at the side of my bed, intentionally pressing her hands down hard onto my fresh surgical wound through the blankets. “It’s all my fault! I didn’t mean to hurt you…” Roe immediately reached out to support her, his eyes softening to absolute tenderness. But when he looked at me, his gaze turned to pure ice. “Don’t blame her. She begged me to keep this a secret forever. I just couldn’t stand seeing her suffer in silence anymore. I want to give her a real future.” My heart felt like it was being ripped apart by bare hands. The pain made it impossible to breathe. With bloodshot eyes, I screamed. “What suffering?! I didn’t cause her miscarriage!” “You want to give her a future, so you personally murder our baby?!” The moment the words left my mouth, Roe’s eyes turned lethal. His voice dripped with mockery. “Valerie, why are you playing the victim? Three years ago, when my career was on the line, you left a divorce agreement on the table and vanished without a trace. I never blamed you for that, did I?” 2 I froze in place. Roe continued, his face devoid of emotion. “Back then, it was Chloe who went through hell to get that audio recording to prove my innocence. She was almost pushed off a balcony and killed for it. And when it was all over, it was Chloe who flew to Europe with me to help me recover mentally. You didn’t even ask if I was okay. So what victim are you pretending to be now?” The blood in my veins turned to ice. Memories from three years ago rushed back. Roe had been maliciously sued by a patient’s family, who claimed he intentionally let the patient die because they didn’t pay him a bribe. His reputation was destroyed, and he was facing prison time. To clear his name, I secretly tracked down the family. While arguing with them, I managed to secretly record them admitting they had fabricated the entire story. But as I tried to leave, they realized what I had done and pushed me down a flight of concrete stairs. I broke my leg and lost the baby I had just found out I was carrying. The doctors told me I might walk with a limp forever and that it would be incredibly difficult for me to ever get pregnant again. I didn’t want to drag Roe down, and I didn’t want him to spend the rest of his life feeling guilty because of what happened to me. So, I gave the flash drive with the recording to Chloe, asking her to hand it over to him. I also signed a divorce agreement, telling her to give it to him if things got too hard. Then, I quietly left the city to hide in a rehab clinic. During those two months of painful physical therapy, Roe never tried to contact me. I assumed he was buried in legal battles. It wasn’t until I finally healed and went home that I found out his name had been cleared weeks ago. He was just vacationing in Europe. I didn’t want to ruin his trip, so I chose to keep my injuries a secret. When he returned, he never brought it up. I thought the lawsuit had traumatized him so much that we were just silently agreeing to leave the past behind. But the truth was, while I was doing agonizing physical therapy just so I could walk back into his arms, Chloe had stolen the credit for saving his life. She stayed by his side day and night. And he—without ever even asking me for the truth—had started hating me to his core. I remembered the day we got married. He held my hands and said, “I will stand by you unconditionally for the rest of my life. I will always believe in you. No matter what happens, nothing will ever tear us apart.” The metallic taste of blood rose in my throat. I lifted my red-rimmed eyes to look at Chloe. “How was your miscarriage my fault? You were the one who slept with a married…” “Ugh!” Chloe suddenly let out a dramatic gag, cutting me off. Roe immediately tensed, holding her by the shoulders. “Are you feeling sick again?” Suddenly, I realized what was happening. “You’re pregnant?” Chloe immediately chimed in. “I’m sorry, Val. I’m carrying Roe’s baby…” Roe nodded without an ounce of shame. “Two months. Twins. I’m having Chloe move into the house so I can take care of her and the babies properly. That nursery you set up will be put to good use.” I had designed that nursery myself. Every piece of furniture, every stuffed animal, I had picked out by hand. I had fantasized countless times about the baby Roe and I would share. And now, I was watching him have children with my own sister. I practically coughed up blood. My voice was a broken rasp. “What about our baby? Roe, that was your own flesh and blood too!” Roe didn’t even blink. “That worthless mistake is already in the biohazard bin.” 3 Those cold words stabbed through my heart like rusted knives. I remembered all the times Roe had whispered in my ear, “Val, I want a baby with you so badly.” Yet he had murdered my child, just so he couldn’t wait to let Chloe carry his. An immense wave of grief and rage swallowed me whole. I grabbed the heavy glass vase from the nightstand and hurled it at them with everything I had. “Get out! Both of you, get the hell out!” As the vase shattered, Roe instinctively pulled Chloe into his arms to shield her from the glass. He turned his head to glare at me, his eyes piercingly cold. “If you can’t handle it, sign the divorce papers. Your parents are already pushing me to marry Chloe as soon as possible. They’ve even picked out names for the twins.” I suddenly remembered what he had said in the operating room: The people who hit you were your parents. So, my parents had known about their affair this entire time. The people I loved most in the world had all betrayed me. It was a pain so absolute, I couldn’t even force out a single tear. I screamed until my voice gave out, chasing them out of the room. I curled into a ball under the thin hospital blanket, shivering violently. The next day, my parents came to the hospital. My father’s tone was harsh and commanding. “What kind of older sister are you? Chloe has always been weaker than you since she was in the womb! Because of you, she lost a baby and almost had to get her uterus removed! Now that she finally has a chance at happiness with Roe, you refuse to divorce him? Are you trying to kill her again?” My mother wiped away fake tears. “They say twins have a telepathic connection, that they’re the closest people in the world. How can your heart be so vicious?” There was no wind in the hospital room, but a freezing chill seeped straight into my bones. I laughed. I laughed until tears finally streamed down my face. “Oh, so you remember we’re twins? I was born exactly three minutes before her! When we were kids, you forced me to let her have everything. Now you expect me to give her my husband too?” “But she is the younger sister! You can’t change that fact!” my mother raised her voice, acting indignant. “If you don’t divorce him, who are Chloe’s babies supposed to call Dad? Do you want her and her children to live in the shadows forever?” “So, you ran me over with your car? Just to clear the way for her? Why didn’t you just kill me?” The moment the words left my mouth, dead silence filled the room. There wasn’t a single trace of guilt on their faces—only annoyance. I clenched my teeth. “I will never sign those papers. I want her to live in the shadows forever. I want her kids to be known as illegitimate bastards!” Smack! My father slapped me hard across the face. “Ungrateful bitch! If I knew you were this toxic, I would have strangled you the minute you were born!” My cheek burned, but the pain in my chest was worse. Five years ago, when my father was hospitalized with liver cancer, I starved myself for a month to lose twenty pounds so I could donate a piece of my liver to save his life. I thought if I sacrificed enough, I could finally earn my parents’ love. But it was never enough. They always wanted more. They wanted to drain my blood and eat my flesh. Seeing I wasn’t backing down, my mother pretended she was going to faint, and my father raised his hand to hit me again. I looked at them one last time. My heart finally died. “Fine. I’ll sign it. I’ll go pack my things today, and from now on, you are no longer my parents.” If I couldn’t have it, I didn’t want any of it. I returned to the house I shared with Roe. As soon as I walked through the front door, I heard sickeningly explicit groans coming from the nursery. “Roe… what if Val catches us in here…” Roe’s voice was thick with lust. “Hold on tighter, baby… Let her find out. Whether she signs the papers or not, you are the only woman I will ever love.” A tidal wave of memories crashed over me. When we first met at the hospital, it was love at first sight for Roe. Known as the untouchable, elite surgeon, he acted like he was addicted to me. To win me over, he cooked and delivered meals to my office every day. The first thing he did after a fourteen-hour surgery was drive to see me. He dropped to one knee at a crowded concert to propose, begging me to stay by his side for the rest of his life. He made me believe in love. He made me think I was his only exception. Suddenly, a weak whimper pulled me back to reality. I followed the sound. It was my six-year-old golden retriever, Buster. He was lying on the floor, a massive pool of blood around his mouth. He was taking shallow, ragged breaths. “Buster…” I dropped to my knees to pick him up and rush him to the vet. But he just looked at me one last time, let out a soft sigh, and stopped breathing in my arms. He had been waiting for me. He waited until he saw me, and then he let go. My mind went completely blank. A soul-shredding agony ripped away the last of my sanity. I kicked the nursery door open. The two of them scrambled apart in panic. Before I could even step forward, Chloe acted as if I had terrified her. She deliberately threw herself backward onto the hardwood floor, letting out a piercing scream and clutching her stomach. “Roe! My stomach hurts so much! The babies… my babies!” Roe’s face went pale. “Don’t panic, I’m taking you to the hospital right now!” He spun around wildly, grabbing clothes off the floor. While his back was turned, Chloe suddenly stopped screaming. She looked at me and flashed a sinister, triumphant smile. “So what if I kicked your stupid dog to death, Val?” she whispered. “All it takes is one word from me, and your baby is dead. You really think you can beat me?” 4 Looking at that face that was nearly identical to my own, the blood rushed to my head. “You psychotic bitch!” I lunged forward, reaching out to wrap my hands around her throat. But before I could even touch her, Roe delivered a brutal kick right into my stomach. “Are you insane?! She’s bleeding and you’re still trying to kill her?! It was just a damn dog!” The dog wasn’t important. The babies were. And I wasn’t. The force of his kick was massive. I was essentially launched backward, crashing hard against the floor. The fresh surgical stitches on my stomach ripped open. Blood poured out, soaking my shirt. Roe looked down at the blood spreading across my stomach. For a fraction of a second, a flash of hesitation crossed his eyes. But then Chloe started screaming again. “Roe… it hurts so much…” “I’ve got you. I won’t let anything happen to you!” He didn’t look at me again. He scooped Chloe into his arms and bolted out the door. By the time he reached the front yard, a crowd of nosy neighbors had already gathered, whispering and holding up their phones to record. Roe didn’t slow down. He shoved through the crowd and carried her away. Through the blurry haze of pain, I saw Chloe peek over his shoulder, giving me one last victorious smirk. I tried to push myself off the floor, but a blinding wave of pain ripped through my abdomen. I collapsed and lost consciousness. When I opened my eyes again, I was tied to a bed in a beachfront vacation cabin. It was the property Roe had bought in my name, a place he used to bring me when he took time off work. But right now, I was hogtied on the mattress. Standing in front of me were three overweight men, covered in disgusting sores and pustules, staring at me like hungry wolves. In the corner of the room, a camera on a tripod was pointed directly at the bed. Realizing what was about to happen, my entire body began to violently shake. I looked toward the doorway, where Roe was standing, his face entirely devoid of emotion. “Roe, what the hell are you doing? No matter what happened, I am still your wife…” This was the man who swore he would support me unconditionally, who promised he would always be on my side. But when he opened his mouth, his voice was dripping with venom. “Valerie, not only did you cause Chloe to almost lose the babies, but you let the neighbors film the whole thing. Now it’s all over the internet. She’s getting cyberbullied. You don’t deserve to be her sister!” “Three years ago, after what you did to me, I never abandoned you! I even thought that if you refused to sign the divorce papers, I would just let it go. We could stay married, even if it was just on paper. But what did you do? Is this how you repay my mercy?” “These three men are patients I pulled from an infectious disease ward… Don’t worry, I won’t let them actually r*pe you. I’m just having them pose with you. We’ll take some photos and post them online. I want you to experience the exact same pain Chloe is feeling. I want you to know what it feels like to have your dignity dragged through the mud.” Seeing him turn to leave, I suddenly remembered something. A year ago, when Chloe was hospitalized for her miscarriage, a man came to visit her. That man was one of Roe’s colleagues from the surgical department! I screamed at the top of my lungs. “Chloe played you, Roe! A year ago, she didn’t get hit by a car! She was caught sleeping with a married man and the man’s wife beat the baby out of her! That man was your coworker! And three years ago, I didn’t abandon you, I—” “Shut up! You literally ran her over, and now you have the nerve to frame her?!” Roe looked at me with pure, unadulterated hatred. “You walked out on me when I needed you most, Valerie. You have no heart!” As I stared at him in sheer disbelief, he delivered the final, fatal blow. “By the way, I had your mother skin that dog of yours and boil it into a stew for Chloe. Dog meat is highly nutritious for pregnant women.” Boom. My brain completely shut down. Buster had been with me for six years. When Roe and Chloe were vacationing in Europe and I was home alone recovering from broken bones and a lost pregnancy, Buster was the only one who stayed by my side. I could see his little head resting on my knees. I could see every moment of the last five years I had spent with Roe. The pain was so excruciating it felt like I was being sliced alive. After Roe walked out the door, the three men lunged toward the bed. “All those stuck-up bitches think we’re disgusting… We haven’t had a taste of a real woman in years…” My scalp prickled with terror. “Roe told you to just take pictures!” “Yeah, well, your sister gave us different orders. She said if we’re gonna put on a show, we might as well make it real. Don’t worry, we’ll make sure you enjoy it.” I shook violently, screaming for help, but Roe was already gone. Just as they ripped my shirt, my hand brushed against a heavy glass lamp on the nightstand. I grabbed it and smashed it directly into the face of the closest man. While the other two recoiled in shock, I scrambled off the bed, sprinted out of the room, and bolted out the front door. By the side of the road, Roe was opening the door to his SUV. Behind me, the sound of heavy footsteps grew closer. I opened my mouth to scream for Roe, but before I could make a sound, I saw Chloe lean out of the passenger side window. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and they kissed deeply. Despair crashed over me like a tidal wave. I thought of my murdered child. My dead dog. My parents who sold me out. And the man who had just died in my heart. I knew I couldn’t outrun those men. And honestly, I didn’t want to run anymore. Without a second of hesitation, I turned sharply and sprinted straight toward the jagged cliff edge. The roaring ocean crashed against the rocks below. I spread my arms and threw myself into the void. In the moment of freefall, I thought I heard Roe’s voice, screaming with a completely raw, desperate agony. “Valerie! No!”

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1 The men at the Institute took his money and cut out a piece of my brain. My frontal lobe. Now, I’m a puppet, devoid of emotion, existing only to obey. It all started when my sister’s assistant, Ryan, showed up with a forged paternity test, claiming I was an imposter. He wept, telling my family I’d used my position as the family heir to lord over him, that I’d broken his leg in a fit of rage. To make it up to him, they sent me to the Institute. When I got out, I just nodded and agreed to whatever they said. Ryan, disgusted, told me to jump in the pool and wash myself clean. I did. My parents pulled me from the bottom of the pool, their faces masks of horror. My sister, Sophia, accused me of putting on a show. She demanded I break my own leg as an apology. I turned and walked straight into oncoming traffic. She yanked me back, her hand trembling uncontrollably. Later, Ryan framed me again, claiming I’d drugged him and thrown him to a woman with an STD. Sophia slapped me, spitting that if he got sick, I was dead. I picked up a knife and aimed it at my heart. My parents froze in the doorway. Sophia grabbed my hand, her grip like a vice. She called me an idiot, asking why I did everything anyone told me to. I’m not an idiot. … The tip of the blade broke the skin, a sharp, wet sound piercing the silence. It was only millimeters from my heart, but I felt nothing. My hand moved to push it deeper. Sophia, her hands slick with my blood, wrenched the knife away. “Nolan! Are you insane?!” But my eyes didn’t even blink. Her shock was absolute. I wasn’t insane. They had performed a lobotomy on me. I had no emotions. I didn’t know what pain was. My mother’s eyes welled with tears. “Nolan, what are you doing?” My father, heartbroken, slapped me across the face, trying to knock some sense into me. “You animal! Your sister was kind enough to bring you home! Who are you trying to guilt-trip with this pathetic act?!” Only then did I stop. Without an order from my family, I didn’t dare continue. I just curled up on the floor. My docile state only seemed to infuriate Sophia more. “Nolan! Stop playing the fool who can’t understand a word! The Ashtons took you back, what more could you possibly want?!” I answered like a machine. “I want for nothing. My sister said I nearly got Ryan infected. I was carrying out my sister’s punishment.” Seven years of “re-education” had taught me that resistance was pointless. Obedience was survival. The slightest frown would earn me unspeakable torture at the Institute. A moment later, the world went black as I passed out from blood loss. At the hospital, the doctor who was supposed to be treating me was called away by Ryan, who was suddenly complaining that his old leg injury was acting up. A nurse just poured alcohol directly onto my open wound. The sting woke me, and the first thing I heard was Ryan’s voice, dripping with false sincerity. “Nolan, man, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have come back and… taken your place. Don’t do this self-pity routine, please. It just makes the family hate me more.” “I haven’t seen you in seven years,” he continued, “but I’ve felt guilty every single day.” A lie. I remembered him clearly. He was the one who told the Institute to perform the surgery. Strange. Why wouldn’t he admit he’d visited me? Blood was still seeping from the gash in my chest. Just as my sister was about to call for a doctor for me, Ryan turned away, his face pale. My mother gasped. “Ryan’s faint at the sight of blood! Someone treat Nolan’s wound, quickly!” Before a doctor could even approach, I had already torn off my shirt, balled it up, and shoved it hard against the wound. At the Institute, when they beat me until I was a bruised mess, I often used my clothes as bandages. The infections nearly killed me a few times. Ryan sucked in a sharp breath. “Nolan, I’m sorry. It’s my fault the doctor left.” Sophia pushed down the flicker of pity she felt for me, her brow furrowed in a deep scowl. “Do you really need the victim to apologize to you?” she snapped. “Seven years of re-education, and the Institute didn’t teach you the price of your mistakes?” Of course they did. I dropped to my knees in front of Ryan, dragging my injured leg as I slammed my forehead against the floor. “Ryan, it’s all my fault! If you’re still not satisfied, I promise the next time I stab myself, I’ll finish the job!” Ryan sighed dramatically. “You lied to this family for seven years. Are you going to keep treating us like fools?” To make him believe me, I started stabbing myself again, each cut deep enough to show bone. For seven years, this was the only way I could earn a bowl of spoiled leftovers at the Institute. Covered in fresh blood, I offered a placating smile. “Do you believe me now, Ryan?” Sophia’s voice was sharp as glass. “You’re disgusting!” “The party is about to start. Stop embarrassing the Ashton family!” As they left, Ryan leaned in close, his eyes glinting. “Nolan,” he whispered, “if you want us to believe you, get on your knees and wash my feet. In front of everyone at the party tonight. Then we’ll know you’re not acting.” I nodded forcefully. After a quick, messy bandaging job, I made my way to the Ashton’s grand ballroom. My mother flinched at the sight of me, wrapped head to toe in gauze. “Nolan, you should be in the hospital! What are you doing here?” Ignoring the confused stares of the guests, I walked directly to Ryan and knelt at his feet. Ignoring the fire in my own wounds, I began to remove his leather shoes to wash his feet. Ryan “accidentally” ground his heel into an open cut on my foot. When my hand trembled, spilling the basin of water, his face twisted from a smirk to a mask of feigned terror. “Nolan! You… you burned me with hot water!” The scalding water had drenched my clothes and skin, but I ignored the searing pain and kept my head bowed to the floor. “I’m sorry, brother.” The guests around us turned pale at the sight of my bloody, mangled wounds. Sophia, however, rushed to his side, cradling the foot that had been splashed. “Ryan, are you okay?” He winced. “Sophia, he’s just trying to drive me away! I… I should just leave the Ashton family for good…” He stood to leave, ignoring Sophia’s protests as she hurried after him. But a friend of the family, a neuroscientist, grabbed her arm, his expression grave. “Sophia, wait. Look at Nolan. Something’s not right with him…” She shot an irritated glance back at me. The skin scalded by the water was already peeling away as I scrubbed at the floor. Blood soaked through the bandages on my torso, but I seemed completely unaware, focused only on cleaning the spill. They didn’t know that at the Institute, a single drop of blood left on the floor meant a thousand times more punishment. “It’s like he doesn’t feel pain anymore,” the doctor said, his voice low. “He’s just a machine executing commands. A normal person wouldn’t mutilate themselves just to follow an order. Sophia, there’s something seriously wrong with his brain!” “That’s impossible,” she murmured, but she hesitated. My father, embarrassed by the scene, scowled. “I doubt it. Making a scene at an event like this… If he’s so committed to the act, why doesn’t he just kill himself?” Without a second thought, I agreed. I grabbed a steak knife from a nearby table and plunged it toward my heart. The doctor moved like lightning, catching my wrist. “Stop!” I obediently froze. Crash. Sophia’s wine glass shattered on the marble floor. My father stood paralyzed. My mother’s eyes filled with tears again. “That boy… could something have really happened to him at the Institute? Even if he’s not our blood, we raised him for so many years…” Strange. I thought they hated me. Why did they seem so afraid of losing me? My mother stared at my wounds, at a loss. My father’s gaze was a mixture of irritation and scrutiny. After a moment, seeing I wasn’t dead, Sophia’s anger returned. She ordered the butler, “Get him out of here. I don’t want Ryan to see him and get upset!” They tied me up in the garden. No one dared to bring me food. For three days, I drank from the sprinkler hose to survive. I slept curled in a pile of dead leaves. Ryan would cruise by in the Maybach, whistling at me like a dog. I’d smile back instinctively, and he’d sneer with open contempt. “Pathetic.” Was I? I didn’t think so. Compared to the seven years of endless darkness and oppression, sleeping here was paradise. One day, Ryan had the driver stop the car. He held out his wrist to me. “Look at you, Nolan. A pathetic stray. What’s the difference between you and a dog?” I gave my customary, agreeable smile. He patted my head. “Good dog. Now, be a good boy and bite me.” I bared my teeth and bit down. The next second, a sharp slap sent my head ringing. Sophia had arrived. “Have you completely lost your mind? When did you learn to bite people like an animal?” I didn’t argue. I just smiled, like a dog. Ryan scrambled behind his sister, feigning terror. “Sophia, look at him! He’s smiling at me! It’s terrifying!” Sophia’s face was a mask of ice. She ordered the bodyguards to take me to a psychiatric hospital. “I think you’ve really lost your mind. Go in there and get it treated!” I memorized her words. That night, I swallowed an entire bottle of powerful sedatives. By the time the night nurse noticed something was wrong, my bed was soaked in the black blood I had vomited. The first thing I saw when I regained consciousness was my mother, sobbing uncontrollably as she gently stroked my hair. “How did my Nolan become like this? He wasn’t… he wasn’t like this before…” She was right. The boy I used to be—bright, dazzling, proud—was dead. He died the day he was thrown into the Institute. A flicker of pity crossed my father’s face, but his words were still sharp. “He’s not our biological son, after all. Bad genes. He’s probably resentful now that he knows the truth, trying to use us, to harm us…” I wanted to say, No, I would never hurt you. But the oxygen tube in my throat silenced me. Ryan’s choked voice reached my ears. “Mom, Dad… if Nolan wakes up and really holds a grudge against me… I don’t think it will be just my leg he breaks this time.” Sophia let out a soft sigh, then made a promise to soothe him. “I’ll pay the hospital ten times their usual fee to… delay Nolan’s medication.” “It would be better… if he just died here.” I suddenly understood what my family wanted. The moment I regained a sliver of strength, I used all of it to rip the tube from my throat. My heart rate and blood pressure monitors screamed. The blaring alarm drained the color from Sophia’s face. She yelled instinctively. “Doctor! Help my brother! Please!” Ryan’s smile vanished, his eyes flashing with jealousy. The doctor who saved me clutched his chest, catching his breath. “A few more seconds and he would have been gone! What kind of family are you, leaving him unattended like this?!” My parents and Sophia stared, speechless, before stammering apologies. Lying on the edge of death, I was utterly confused. Didn’t they want me to die? Why did they save me when I was so close? Ryan’s voice cracked with rage. “Nolan, are you done with your act? It looks like seven years did nothing to fix you!” “I’m going to have Mom and Dad send you back to the Institute!” I listened quietly, my face a blank slate. But unexpectedly, Sophia hesitated, a frown creasing her brow. “Send him back… What if something happens?” My parents fell silent, thinking. After all, when they’d brought me home, I was twenty pounds lighter, covered in bruises, a ghost of my former self. Ryan turned to me. “Nolan, answer me. Are you willing to go back to the Institute to continue your re-education?” I nodded obediently. “Yes. Thank you, Ryan.” A short while later, as Ryan was handling my discharge papers, he gave me a cruel smile. “You’re going back there to die, Nolan.” I had no complaints. I just followed him. He ordered me to get into the driver’s seat of the car. “Get in, start the car, and step on the gas. Aim for me.” I nodded, confused, and was just about to press the accelerator when the Ashton’s Maybach screeched to a halt, cutting me off. A bodyguard ripped my door open and dragged me out. “Nolan! Have you had enough?!” My sister was trembling with rage. “You tried to run Ryan down!” My mother stared at me, her eyes filled with a profound disappointment, before turning to comfort Ryan through her tears. “Ryan, you’ve suffered so much. From this moment on, the Ashton family will show him no more mercy!” I knew I had made them angry again. And mistakes have consequences. I slammed my head against the car. I heard the crack of my frontal bone as it fractured. Ryan’s eyes widened in fake shock. “The more you play the victim, Nolan, the more you must hate me in your heart!” I said nothing, despite the splitting pain in my head. They didn’t like it when I talked back. Seven years ago, it was for refuting Ryan’s lies that they threw me into the Institute, where they performed the surgery that made me so obedient. I was all better now. I would do anything they said. I hoped that would make them happy. “No-lan Ash-ton!” It was the second time my sister had said my name with such chilling coldness. “Hasn’t this family been good to you? You enjoyed twenty years of luxury that belonged to Ryan! Bringing you home was the biggest mistake of my life! You almost got him killed!” My father shoved my fractured head against the pavement, grinding it into the asphalt. “You ungrateful beast! We should have let you die in the hospital!” I coughed up blood and struggled to my feet. I knew they hadn’t forgiven me. I prepared to slam my head against the car again to atone. If I hit it harder this time, hard enough to shatter my skull, surely they would calm down? My mother screamed, a wild, desperate sound. “Enough! Stop torturing yourself…” My father ordered the bodyguards, “Throw him in the Institute. And you, Nolan, you’d better die quickly. Don’t keep Ryan from living his life!” My family watched as the bodyguards tossed me into the trunk like a bag of trash. They were only concerned with taking Ryan back to the hospital for a full check-up. I was back in the familiar place. A bodyguard flicked a lit cigarette into a nearby trash can. “Stay put!” I curled up obediently in a corner, unmoving even as I watched the cigarette ignite the trash, the flames catching on the curtains. As the fire roared toward me, a wall of infernal heat, I calmly closed my eyes and waited to die. I just wanted to ask: I’ve been so good. Once I’m really dead, can I come home? At the hospital, the family breathed a collective sigh of relief as they reviewed Ryan’s perfectly normal test results. My father’s voice was ice when he heard the bodyguard’s report. “Nolan loves his little life-and-death dramas, doesn’t he? Fine. Let him stay there and rot. If anyone in this family so much as mentions his name again, they can get out!” But the neuroscientist frowned. He pulled a file from his desk drawer—the surgical report for my frontal lobotomy. “Ms. Ashton, Nolan isn’t acting. His behavior is the result of a severe brain injury.” Sophia was dismissive. “We all know he’s got something wrong in his head!” “This is different!” The doctor slammed the report on the table. The words “Successful Excision” made a sudden, sickening premonition rise in my mother’s chest. She fought to keep her voice steady. “A frontal lobotomy… what does that mean?” The doctor’s expression was grim. “It means the part of Nolan’s brain that controls impulse, emotion, and resistance has been surgically removed! He has no feelings, no ability to refuse an order. He will do anything to please, to obey a command, even if that command will lead to his own death!” “The Institute he was in for seven years is a notorious black site for abuse! They arranged the surgery through a private clinic! And this,” he said, pointing to the bottom of the page, “is the signature of the family representative who authorized it. Ryan.” Seeing Ryan’s name on the form, their world exploded. At the same time, the doctor produced another document: the real paternity test. “I found the original in the archives. There’s something you’ve been wrong about for seven years.”

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1 Memorial Day weekend. Brody, the frat bro who stole my wife years ago, posted a photo of an oceanfront villa in Cabo. The caption read: “Holiday getaway. Testing out the older woman flavor.” I took a screenshot and sent it to his current wife, who happened to be my ex-wife, Sissi. I added a sarcastic text. “Getting cheated on over the holidays. Feels familiar, doesn’t it?” Minutes later, Sissi didn’t curse me out. Instead, she sent a live location in Cabo and a video. The video showed a luxury sedan with its windshield smashed to pieces. She sent one follow-up message. “Why don’t you check the plates and see who this belongs to.” My blood turned to ice. I took the red-eye flight. When I walked into the local precinct in Cabo, the first thing I saw was my fiancée, Jenny. The woman who was supposed to be working overtime at her corporate firm was currently wielding a plastic waiting room chair, screaming like a lunatic as she tried to swing it at Sissi. Hearing my footsteps, Jenny froze. This was the woman who had pulled me out of severe clinical depression. The woman who once put Sissi in the hospital just so I wouldn’t suffer. Yet right now, her first instinct was to pull a man behind her back, shielding him. I walked up to her, step by step. Looking at a face I knew down to the bone, I felt nothing but a terrifying strangeness. “You told me yesterday morning there was an emergency project,” I said. “You said you had to work through the weekend.” “Is this your new office, Jess?” “Of all the people you could protect, you chose Brody?” “You know exactly what he did to me five years ago. You swore you would make him pay!” Jenny slowly lowered the chair. She brushed the dust off her palms, refusing to meet my eyes. Instead, she stared at the blank precinct wall. “Paul, we’re all adults here. Things happen naturally,” she said. “There’s no need to make this so ugly.” I stood there, stung by her absolute indifference. “Ugly?” I echoed. “You booked a hotel room behind my back with the man who ruined the first half of my life, and you’re annoyed that I’m making things ugly?” Jenny tugged at her collar, dripping with impatience. “All you do is work and stare off into space. You’re completely lifeless,” she snapped. “You don’t have Brody’s spark. Any woman would feel suffocated around you.” Those words smashed into my face. Every illusion I ever held about her shattered into dust. Brody peeked out from behind her shoulder. “Artie, man, don’t blame Jess.” “It’s my fault. I got drunk and cried to her about how Sissi gives me the cold shoulder. You can hit me or yell at me, but please don’t fight with her over this.” Memories from five years ago crashed into my skull. The day I pushed open the master bedroom door, Brody had hidden behind Sissi the exact same way. Sissi had shoved me hard to protect him. I fell, cracking my head open on the nightstand, leaving a permanent scar. That was the day I sank into the swamp of severe depression. A suffocating weight crushed my chest. I gasped for air. Sissi leaned against the wall, wiping a trickle of blood from her forehead. She let out a sharp, mocking laugh. “Jenny, you kept preaching about how much you loved Paul. In the end, you still climbed into my husband’s bed.” Jenny glared at Sissi, her face twisted with pure disdain. “Oh, save the victim act, Sissi,” Jenny spat. “You slept with Paul for years and tortured him until he was a ghost of a man. I just wanted a taste of your husband. I wanted you to know what it feels like to wear the horns. This is called karma.” I stared at Jenny, completely numb. The woman who pulled me back from the edge of the roof, who stayed up countless nights holding me through panic attacks, was utterly unrecognizable. Her closeness, her fierce protection, it was all tainted with a sick, twisted sense of possession and revenge. With a terrifying calm, I pulled the engagement ring off my finger and set it quietly on the officer’s metal desk. “The wedding is off, Jenny.” I turned and walked out the glass doors. Behind me, Brody’s voice echoed. “Jess, he left the ring! Go after him!” Jenny’s voice followed, dripping with arrogance. “Chase him? Why? Once he cools off, he’ll come crawling back.” “Besides, I need to comfort you right now.” I hailed a cab straight to the airport and bought the next ticket back to Seattle. Sitting in the departure lounge, my phone lit up. It was a photo from Brody. Jenny was fast asleep on crisp, white hotel sheets, looking completely at peace. A text followed. “Artie, your girl only plays the saint when you’re around. Deep down, she loves the thrill. I’ll give her back when I’m done with her.” My fingers flew across the keyboard. “Trash belongs in the dumpster. Only you would be thrilled to dig through my garbage.” I hit send and immediately blocked his number. Back at our shared downtown condo, I pulled out a box of heavy-duty trash bags. I ripped open the closet doors, yanked all of Jenny’s designer clothes off the hangers, and stuffed them in. I didn’t hesitate for a single second. I dragged every bag containing a trace of her existence out into the hallway. Just as I threw the last bag out, the elevator chimed. The doors slid open. My mother and my sister, Zoe, stepped out. Seeing the mountain of luggage, my mother’s face darkened instantly. “Paul, what kind of tantrum is this?” she scolded. “Jess is so good to you. You’re almost thirty, stop acting like a dramatic teenager! Are you trying to tear this family apart?” Zoe chimed in right on cue. “Seriously, Paul. Jess runs a massive company. Don’t be ungrateful. I graduate next month, and I’m counting on her to get me a management job!” Looking at the people who shared my blood, I felt a wave of profound sorrow. Years ago, when Sissi betrayed me, my depression was so severe I couldn’t sleep for days. My mother just watched me with cold eyes, calling me an ugly burden. She even tried to force me to give up my high-paying job so Zoe could have my salary for her college allowance. I survived those pitch-black days by waiting tables during the day and spending my meager tips on therapy at night. I crawled out of hell completely alone. From that moment on, I considered myself an orphan. I looked at my mother with eyes as cold as dead ash. “Jenny cheated on me,” I said flatly. “With Brody.” I thought hearing that name would trigger at least a fraction of shock. Instead, my mother blinked, then gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “People stray. It’s just a fling,” she said. “If you can’t keep your woman satisfied, who else is there to blame?” “Besides, Brody is highly connected now. He knows big investors. If he introduces your sister to the right people, her whole career is set.” “Just swallow your pride. Why do you have to make a scene and embarrass everyone?” The last fragile thread tying me to my family snapped entirely. I was about to shut the door when the elevator dinged again. Jenny practically tumbled out, gasping for air. She couldn’t get a flight, so she must have bought an overpriced train ticket and traveled all night. Seeing her belongings piled up like garbage, her face turned thunderous. I leaned against the doorframe, offering a merciless smirk. “Why the rush? Couldn’t bear to leave your boy toy in Cabo? Or did Sissi beat you so badly you had to run?” Seeing Jenny arrive, my mother and sister looked awkward. They muttered a quick excuse and scurried back into the elevator, fleeing the scene. The hallway was dead silent. Just the two of us. I stepped back inside, grabbed the divorce papers I had printed weeks ago for a prenup update, and crossed out a few lines. We had just signed our marriage certificate last month. The grand wedding was scheduled for next month. Now, there was no need. I slapped the papers against her chest. “Sign it.” Jenny didn’t even look at the document. She let it flutter to the floor. She refused to acknowledge the hotel room in Cabo, choosing instead to flip the script. “Can you stop being so irrational, Paul?” she demanded. “Throwing my stuff out in front of your mother and sister? Do you know how humiliating that is for me?” “Sissi kicked Brody out. He has nowhere to sleep. What’s wrong with me helping out a friend?” Listening to her righteous defense, I felt like I was losing my mind. Brody was the guy who stabbed me in the back our entire lives. He stole my homework in high school to win awards. He cut the brakes on my bike, breaking my leg. Because I had better grades, he secretly hacked the school portal to alter my college applications, costing me my university spot. I only found out about his sabotage when he showed up to sleep with Sissi. He ruined my life, and then he stole my wife. Jenny used to hold me in her arms, looking me in the eyes, swearing her loyalty. “I’m here now, Artie. Nobody will ever hurt you again. Whatever Brody took from you, I’ll make him pay back in blood.” Those promises were now nothing but a sick joke. Suppressing the fire in my chest, I pointed a finger squarely at her face. “Help him? You helped him into your bed!” “Brody is a pathetic little…” I never finished the sentence. A sharp, stinging slap echoed in the hallway. My head snapped to the side. My ears rang a high-pitched pitch. Jenny pulled her hand back, glaring at me with absolute fury. “Do not insult him like that!” The burning pain on my cheek was nothing compared to the bottomless, freezing abyss opening in my heart. Jenny stared at her own trembling hand. A flash of panic crossed her face. She took a step forward, instinctively reaching out to steady me. “Artie, I didn’t mean to. Just stop provoking me…” I slapped her hand away. With every ounce of strength I had, I swung my arm back and delivered a brutal, stinging backhand across her face. “You make me physically sick, Jenny!” I roared. “How good is Brody in bed that you women line up to pick up each other’s trash?” I lunged forward, completely unhinged. The sheer weight of years of repressed trauma erupted. Jenny didn’t fight back, taking the impact against her shoulders. The violent movement was too much. Black spots danced across my vision. My knees buckled, and I collapsed onto the hardwood floor, slipping into total darkness. When I opened my eyes again, the sharp scent of clinical bleach filled my lungs. I was lying in a hospital bed, an IV dripping fluids into my vein. Jenny stood at the foot of the bed. Her expression was darker than a thundercloud. Seeing me wake up, she offered zero comfort. Her voice was colder than liquid nitrogen. “You cheated on me.” My eyes went wide. “What kind of insane garbage are you talking about? When did I ever cheat on you?” Jenny let out a humorless scoff and tossed her phone onto my blanket. “Still denying it?” “Brody told me everything! You went to Seattle on a business trip last month. Sissi was in Seattle at the exact same time! Are you seriously going to tell me nothing happened?” My whole body shook with rage. “That was a corporate summit! Hundreds of tech companies were in that city! I didn’t even see her face!” Jenny wasn’t listening. Her mind was already made up. “How long were you going to play me?” she sneered. “You kept crying about how Brody framed you, but he showed me the medical records. He proved you were having psychotic episodes, hallucinating and attacking people like a rabid dog!” “I must have been blind to fall for your pathetic victim act for three years.” My breathing turned ragged. My chest ached with a suffocating pressure. Once trust collapses, every explanation sounds like a cover-up. She would rather believe the man who lied through his teeth than the husband who had slept beside her for three years. Looking down at me like I was a stranger, Jenny delivered her ultimatum. “I’m giving you one week to think about this.” “Clean up your mess. In six months, I’ll consider coming back to this marriage. Otherwise, I’ll see you in court.” She spun around, slammed the hospital door shut, and walked away. The room fell back into a dead, hollow silence. Two days later, I forced myself out of bed and dragged my aching body into the office. The second I stepped into the bullpen, I noticed my desk was entirely cleared out. My framed photos, my mugs, my notes, everything was shoved carelessly into a cardboard box on the floor. My coworkers shot me looks filled with pity and twisted amusement. I didn’t yell. I didn’t make a scene. I walked calmly toward HR to demand my termination paperwork. As I passed the executive suites, my department director walked out, laughing and fawning over a man in a tailored suit. It was Brody. The director caught sight of me and immediately put on a nasty sneer. “Paul, you actually have the nerve to show your face?” he mocked. “I reported your unexcused absences. Corporate decided to terminate you effectively immediately. Grab your trash and get out. You’re blocking our new Regional Manager.” Brody strolled up to me, adjusting his cuffs. “Sorry about this, Artie. Took your spot,” he said smoothly. “But what can I say? Jess is the majority shareholder of this firm.” “I casually mentioned I was bored and needed a gig, and she handed me your department.” I snapped my head up, staring at her empty office in pure shock. Jenny was the majority shareholder? For three years, I bled for this company. I worked overnight pulling together pitch decks. Every time a promotion came up, the director gave me some corporate excuse and handed the title to someone else. I used to come home exhausted, crying to Jenny about the unfairness of the corporate ladder. She would rub my back so gently, telling me to be patient, promising that hard work always pays off. She had the power all along. She held the leash. My heart turned into a block of ice. My eyes drifted down. I suddenly noticed a braided red string wrapped around Brody’s wrist. It was a handmade bracelet. I had woven it myself for our three-year anniversary, placing it on Jenny’s wrist. She swore on her life she would never take it off. Pure, unadulterated fury snapped the last wire in my brain. I lunged forward, grabbing the bracelet and ripping it downward. “Take that off! You don’t have the right to touch it!” Brody immediately let out an exaggerated, theatrical yelp. “Ah! Jesus, Artie! What is wrong with you!” He threw his weight backward, pretending to fall. Out of nowhere, a figure rushed past me. Jenny threw her arms around Brody to catch him, simultaneously shoving me hard in the chest. “Paul! Are you completely insane!” The brutal force of her push threw me off balance. I stumbled backward, my heel catching on the carpet. I went down hard. The sharp corner of a mahogany desk caught me right in the lower back. Blinding, agonizing pain shredded through my nervous system. I slid to the floor, feeling a warm, thick liquid dripping down the back of my head. Gasps erupted across the office. Jenny froze. She stared at the pooling blood on the carpet, all the color draining from her face. I lay in my cheap rental apartment for a full month. During that time, Brody practically lived on Instagram, flaunting his new luxury lifestyle. In the comment sections, Jenny and Sissi were tearing each other apart, fighting over him like wild dogs. Both of them ended up in the ER after a physical brawl at a country club. Watching their circus act, I felt nothing but a dark, cynical amusement. A month later, as the sun set, Jenny finally unlocked the door to our old condo. The place was completely hollow. Stripped of all life. She walked into the living room, annoyed, until her eyes landed on the glass coffee table. Sitting right in the center was the divorce agreement. My signature was already inked at the bottom.

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My little brother has a gift. He can hear people’s thoughts. When our parents died, our aunt and uncle both stepped up to take us in. Aunt Manon showed up looking ragged and exhausted, wearing faded clothes. Uncle James, on the other hand, was dripping in designer labels from head to toe. But Noah chose Manon. He clung to her because the voices in his head told him she was actually secretly loaded, hiding a massive fortune. As for James? His thoughts revealed his clothes were all rentals. He was just fronting, trying to look wealthy so we wouldn’t feel insecure. When James gently took my hand, Noah shot me a smug, pitying look. He whispered that if I ever wanted to wear nice clothes, I could fish his hand-me-downs out of the trash. He honestly thought he was the main character. He thought his mind-reading made him invincible, the chosen one. What he didn’t know was that I had a secret of my own. I could see the comments. A floating, glowing stream of text that told me exactly what the future held. The comments said Manon was a sinking ship. She was cursed with a toxic fate, destined to drag down anyone foolish enough to tie themselves to her. The comments also said that while James cared too much about his pride, he had a heart of gold. His luck was about to turn, and his family would slowly build a beautiful, comfortable life. Someone in the floating text mentioned that Noah relied too heavily on the voices in his head. And the biggest twist of all? His ability came with an expiration date. The moment he turned eighteen, the voices would go permanently silent. Looking at his arrogant smirk, I could already see the absolute tragedy waiting for him at the finish line. 1 The moment Manon and James stepped into the sterile hospital hallway, my brother Noah practically shoved me toward James. His expensive cologne was overpowering. Noah put on his best puppy-dog eyes and let his lip quiver. “Ollie, you go with Uncle James,” Noah said softly. “I’m younger. I can handle roughing it. You’ve always had it easier, so you should be the one to go live the good life with him.” I watched James’s face twitch with an unnatural, guilty expression. Manon, meanwhile, looked down at Noah with pure adoration and patted his shoulder. “Our little Noah is growing up,” she cooed. “Already learning how to sacrifice for his family.” James looked at Noah, his large hands awkwardly fidgeting with the hem of his rented tailored jacket. “Noah, are you absolutely sure you don’t want to come with me? Don’t you remember? I used to carry you on my shoulders when you were a baby.” Noah forced a pained, conflicted look onto his face. “Uncle James, I know you really care about me. But Ollie was always mom and dad’s favorite. He’s spoiled. He can’t survive eating scraps and sleeping on a hard mattress. As his little brother, I’m used to giving him the best of everything. Please don’t make this harder than it is. Let Ollie go with you.” With that, he gently nudged me closer to James, playing the part of the heartbroken martyr perfectly. If I hadn’t known the truth, I might have actually bought his performance. But right on cue, the glowing text began scrolling across my vision. [Bro can literally hear thoughts. He knows the uncle’s Rolex is a fake and the suit is rented! James just didn’t want the kids to feel poor.] [Manon is the real hidden millionaire here. She’s loaded.] So that was it. Noah could hear the truth. It made perfect sense now. A kid who threw a tantrum if his pillow wasn’t fluffed properly was never going to willingly choose a life of poverty with our supposedly broke aunt. Besides, I hadn’t even recognized the brand of James’s suit. Noah spotted it instantly. I knew exactly why both of them wanted Noah instead of me. Our parents had never hidden their blatant favoritism. Even though I brought home straight A’s and kept my head down, they only ever paraded Noah in front of the relatives. They painted me as the difficult child, the liar, the jealous older brother who needed constant discipline. I couldn’t exactly go door-to-door defending myself to the extended family. Over time, everyone just assumed I was a lost cause. Even now, standing over the tragic reality of our parents’ sudden passing, Manon and James had rushed here to claim Noah. I was just the consolation prize. James finally took my hand. “You’re too good for your own sake, Noah,” James sighed, his voice thick with emotion. “Are you really sure? I promise I’d give you everything I have.” He meant it. James had two daughters at home. He had always wanted a quiet, obedient son, and Noah’s carefully crafted persona fit the bill perfectly. Manon stepped in smoothly. “James, stop pressuring the poor boy. He clearly made his choice. Don’t make him uncomfortable. Besides, you need to think about Oliver’s feelings.” Only then did the two adults seem to remember I had been standing there the whole time, fading into the background like peeling wallpaper. James looked at me, a deep flush creeping up his neck. “Ollie, I didn’t mean to make you feel unwanted. It’s just that you’re older. You understand how these things work, right?” I offered a careless, easy smile. Before I could say it was fine, Noah cut in. “Don’t worry, Uncle James. Ollie has a really good memory. Just make sure you treat him well. I’ll come visit you guys when I have some free time.” A good memory. That was his coded way of calling me vindictive. Even on his way to securing a golden ticket, he couldn’t resist throwing mud at my name. James hesitated for a split second, clearly picking up on the toxic undertone. But the ink was already dry on the decision. As Noah followed Manon down the hall, he brushed his shoulder against mine. He paused, leaning in close so only I could hear. “You’re clueless, Ollie,” he whispered, a nasty grin stretching across his face. “James is totally faking it. Get ready to starve in the slums. Guys like you don’t have what it takes to live at the top.” I watched him strut away like a general who had just conquered a city. A small, genuine smile touched my lips. Because the comments were flooding my vision again. [This kid is so stupid. Manon has cash, yeah, but her fate is cursed! She’s a walking black hole. She’ll drag him down with her!] [Uncle James cares too much about his image, but he’s a genuinely good guy. His karma is insane, he’s going to strike it rich soon.] [The brother relies way too much on his mind-reading. It’s making him lazy.] [Wait till he finds out the gift vanishes on his eighteenth birthday. Poof, gone.] [Yikes. I can already smell the absolute disaster waiting for him.] I shoved my hands into my pockets. I guess we’d see if Noah could actually handle all that heavy, glittering wealth. 2 James guided me out to the parking lot and unlocked a sleek, midnight-black luxury sedan. The soft click of the doors echoing in the quiet lot. He still felt guilty for making it so obvious he wanted Noah. He glanced at me in the passenger seat, clearing his throat awkwardly. “Ollie. Please don’t hold this against me. I have my reasons, things are a bit complicated right now. But since you’re coming with me, I swear on my life I won’t let you suffer.” I didn’t know what his complicated reasons were yet. But the glowing text had confirmed his good heart. He wouldn’t mistreat me. Still, I wasn’t naive enough to blindly trust magical floating words. I was seventeen. I needed a legal guardian and a roof over my head. My plan was simple: keep my head down, study hard, and build my own escape hatch. Once I was on my own feet, I would never rely on anyone’s charity again. I decided to test the comments. I looked out the window and kept my voice perfectly flat. “Uncle James, you can return the car now.” His hands locked onto the leather steering wheel. His knuckles turned bone-white. It made sense. Truly wealthy people rarely drove themselves to pick up grieving relatives in a hospital lot. Plus, James’s worn-out posture didn’t match the crisp tailoring of his suit. He let out a long, heavy exhale. He didn’t get defensive or angry. Instead, a tired, self-deprecating chuckle escaped his chest. “You saw right through me, huh? You’re a sharp kid, Ollie. I just didn’t want you two to feel ashamed of me. Especially since your Aunt Manon…” He stopped himself, chewing on his lower lip. I knew how that sentence ended. He knew Manon was loaded, but since Noah picked the supposedly poor aunt, James didn’t want me feeling like I got the short end of the stick. He held his tongue to protect my pride. The comments were right. He was too good for this world. But if he was so selfless, why had he fought so hard to take Noah instead of me? Our parents had barely spoken to James or Manon over the years. They both lived out of state. I had no clue what their bank accounts looked like. Noah only knew because of the voices in his head. I pushed the questions away. I had spent my whole life accepting whatever hand I was dealt. If my parents gave Noah the world and gave me the scraps, I ate the scraps. I never begged. I never fought for their scraps of affection. Blood didn’t mean loyalty. Relatives could still lie. You could only ever count on yourself. James listened to me. He drove the luxury car back to the rental agency, swapped his designer suit for comfortable, faded jeans and a plain gray sweater, and walked out looking like a completely normal, tired dad. I sat in the passenger seat of his beat-up, rattling sedan. The heater smelled faintly of old coffee. He climbed in, flashing me a warm, goofy smile. “What are you craving, Ollie? Sarah and the girls probably ate already. How about we hit up that fancy burger joint downtown? The one with the crazy milkshakes?” A sudden, sharp tightness gripped my chest. Growing up, money was supposedly tight. Mom and Dad preached the gospel of saving every penny. We were never allowed to eat out. But if Noah whined about wanting a gourmet sundae, they would drop everything and drive him to the nicest diner in town. They never waited for me to get home from school. I only found out because Noah would intentionally bring his leftovers home. He would sit at the kitchen island, scraping the melting, sugary mess into his mouth with painful slowness, making sure I watched him swallow every bite. He would wait hours until it turned to liquid, just to see the hunger and jealousy in my eyes. In my mind, things like diners and milkshakes belonged to a world I wasn’t allowed to enter. James must have asked around to figure out what kids my age liked, just to make me smile. I shook my head and pointed to a dimly lit diner across the street. “Let’s just get some hot soup. I really like soup.” The things I couldn’t have back then, I didn’t want anymore. One day, I would buy everything I ever wanted with my own money. James blinked, surprised, but he nodded. A few minutes later, we were sitting across from each other in a cracked vinyl booth, waiting for our food. “You know, Ollie,” James said softly, swirling his water glass. “You really aren’t anything like what your parents said you were.” His honesty caught me off guard. It also made me realize why he had gone broke renting luxury gear just to win Noah over. If you have to take in a kid that isn’t yours, feed them, and share your home for years, of course you’d want the “easy” kid. He wasn’t malicious. He was just tired. I offered a small, quiet smile. “Time tells the truth about people.” James’s face lit up, the tension finally melting from his shoulders. “Listen to you, sounding like a philosopher. I bet you’re top of your class.” He was right. I was always at the top. Noah was always at the bottom. Once, when we were little, Noah failed a massive math test. He came home, threw himself into our mother’s arms, and sobbed until she bought him a new video game to make him feel better. That exact same day, I brought home a perfect score. I burst through the front door, waving the paper, eager to finally make them proud. But Noah saw it and started screaming hysterically. “Ollie is doing it on purpose! He just wants you to hate me! Make him stop!” That night, Noah got a bucket of fried chicken in his room. I was shoved into the basement without dinner, told to reflect on my toxic, competitive attitude. I learned the rules of the house that night. My excellence was a threat. The only way to survive was to be aggressively mediocre. From then on, I turned in blank test papers. I did the math in my head, wrote the perfect answers on scrap paper to prove to myself I knew it, and handed in nothing. I celebrated my genius in total silence. Looking at James now, seeing the genuine pride shining in his eyes over a simple conversation, my throat locked up. I stared down at my bowl, letting the steam hide the tears that fell silently into the broth. 3 When we finally pulled up to James’s house, his wife Sarah opened the door with a bright, welcoming smile. The moment her eyes landed on me instead of Noah, the smile froze into a tight, brittle mask. She grabbed James by the sleeve and aggressively yanked him into the master bedroom. I stood frozen in the narrow hallway. My chest tightened. I didn’t know if I should take my shoes off or turn around and walk back out into the cold. Thankfully, my two older cousins, Lily and Grace, bounced into the hall. They warmly dragged me inside, fighting over who got to show me my new room and forcing a plate of sliced apples into my hands. As we walked past the master bedroom, the door was cracked just enough for me to hear James’s “complicated reasons.” Sarah’s voice was a harsh, angry hiss. “You were supposed to bring Noah! You brought the delinquent? The liar? How am I supposed to fix a kid like that? I don’t have the energy!” “He’s seventeen, James! His personality is baked in. He’s ruined. We spent all that money renting that stupid car and that suit just to impress Noah, and you bring back the problem child?” James’s deep voice rumbled in defense. “He’s here now, Sarah. Let it go. He’s not what his parents made him out to be. He’s incredibly well-spoken and polite.” Sarah’s anger deflated into a long, exhausted sigh. When they finally opened the door, they found me standing awkwardly near the kitchen. Sarah’s face flushed deep red. She forced a painfully stiff smile. “Ollie. Welcome to the family.” The glowing text flared to life in the corner of my vision. [You can’t really blame Aunt Sarah. Nobody wants a teenager with a terrible reputation. They barely have enough money to survive as it is. She’s just burnt out.] [She’s a good person at heart. She’ll treat him like her own flesh and blood eventually. Noah really messed up. He threw away a family that would have actually loved him.] Reading that, the knot in my stomach loosened. Sarah wasn’t evil. She was just terrified of drowning under the weight of an awful kid. I could fix that. I met her nervous gaze and stood up straight. “Aunt Sarah. I don’t eat much. I will study hard, and I’ll take over the chores. You won’t have to worry about me causing trouble.” Just please don’t hate me. I swallowed the last sentence. As long as I proved my worth, they wouldn’t throw me out. James shot his wife a lethal glare, clearly realizing I had heard every word of their argument. Sarah looked completely lost for words, guilt pooling in her eyes. I didn’t want to drag out the awkwardness, so I picked up my duffel bag. “I’ll go unpack. Just leave whatever needs cleaning for me tomorrow.” I saw Sarah’s eyes instantly well up with tears as she stood paralyzed in the doorway. I ducked into my new room and quietly shut the door, finally exhaling a breath I felt like I’d been holding for years. I looked around. The walls were painted a soft, dusty pink. Faded pop star posters hung near the ceiling. But the bedsheets were a crisp, masculine navy blue. A brand-new desk sat in the corner, and a freshly assembled wardrobe held packs of new socks and underwear. It hit me immediately. This used to be one of my cousins’ rooms. Lily and Grace had shoved a bunk bed into the remaining bedroom just to make space. But this wasn’t done for me. Money was painfully tight, but James and Sarah had emptied their pockets to buy new furniture and sacrifice their daughters’ comfort, all to give Noah the perfect welcome. I was sleeping in the bed they built for him. I was getting his leftovers. Again. Why did he always get the best of everything without even trying? I collapsed onto the mattress. The exhaustion finally caught up with me, and hot, silent tears soaked into the brand-new pillowcase. My cracked phone buzzed aggressively against my leg. It was a barrage of videos from Noah.

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1 Clutching the thin paper of my lab results, I took a deep breath. I forced a playful smile, telling Sebastian that I was pregnant. I joked that if he did not propose soon, my little secret was going to show. Instead of the joy I expected, a mocking smirk spread across Sebastian’s face. He casually leaned back against the kitchen counter. “Babe, stop joking around. You know I’m already married. How could I possibly propose to you?” My mind went completely blank. I stared at him, convinced my ears were ringing. Without missing a beat, Sebastian pulled a leather bound marriage certificate from his inner jacket pocket and tossed it onto the marble island. His name was printed right there as the groom. Beside it, the bride’s name was glaringly obvious. Raina Coburn. He crossed his arms, defending himself with absolute confidence. He told me he knew I loved him for who he was, not for some meaningless piece of paper. Then his tone shifted. He sighed, acting like the victim. He explained that Raina was different. If he did not give her the official title of wife, she would dump him and cut off his funding. Finally, he looked at me with this sickening, pleading expression. “Hazel, you love me so much. You wouldn’t want to see me heartbroken over a breakup, right?” Tears blurred my vision. My throat felt like it was closing up. “But I’m pregnant, Sebastian.” He just let out a indifferent hum. “Right. Go get that taken care of.” He walked over and patted my cheek as if I were a disobedient pet. “I already promised Raina. My firstborn has to be hers.” I looked at the man I had loved for years, sobbing uncontrollably. “Why are you doing this to me?” Sebastian rolled his eyes, looking completely bored. “Hazel, don’t you always say true love is about sacrifice? I have feelings for Raina now. What is the big deal about making a little sacrifice for me?” He leaned in closer. “If Raina and I break up, I’ll be miserable. Do you really want me to suffer? If you actually love me, you’ll tolerate my wandering eye.” The sheer audacity of his words made my stomach churn. I bit my lower lip hard enough to taste blood. “We are done. I want a breakup.” Sebastian froze for a second. Then he burst out laughing, a cruel, grating sound. “Break up? Sure. But you are still getting rid of that kid.” His utter lack of empathy paralyzed me. Seeing me go quiet, his arrogant smirk returned. “I knew you couldn’t actually leave me. Hazel, drop the fake outrage. If you pull a stunt like this again, I will actually dump you. And crying on your knees won’t save you.” My hands curled into tight fists. My fingernails dug so hard into my palms they broke the skin. I stared straight into his eyes, holding onto one last, desperate thread of hope. “This is a sick prank, isn’t it?” He didn’t answer. Instead, his hand reached out to gently stroke my jawline. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. It had to be a prank. The Sebastian who loved me fiercely would never humiliate me like this. But a split second later, his hand slid down from my jaw and clamped around my throat. He squeezed, hard. I gasped in pain, my mouth opening on instinct. In that exact moment, Sebastian shoved a small pill to the back of my throat. It slid down my windpipe and dropped into my stomach before I could even process what was happening. I collapsed to my knees on the hardwood floor, clutching my neck, gagging and coughing violently. Tears streamed down my face, but nothing came up. “What did you just give me?” I choked out. Sebastian wiped his fingers on a napkin. “The abortion pill. Raina made it very clear. This problem needs to be flushed away.” My heart plummeted into an endless abyss. Within minutes, vicious cramps twisted my lower abdomen. Huge drops of cold sweat rolled down my forehead. I dragged myself into the bathroom, my body completely giving out. I collapsed onto the cold tiles. My head hit the porcelain toilet bowl with a sickening thud. Sebastian didn’t even check on me. From the living room, I could hear the loud, booming sound effects of his video game console. I was in so much physical and emotional agony that I couldn’t even cry anymore. Right then, my phone buzzed on the floor. It was a text. “Sweetheart, your father and I booked the main ballroom at The Belvedere Estate. Bring your boyfriend tonight.” I wiped a tear away with a trembling hand and typed back. “Mom, I’m coming alone. We broke up.” I had been abducted when I was five years old. It was only three days ago that I finally reunited with my biological parents. They had spent twenty years searching for me. When we finally met, they cried until they could barely breathe. That was also when I found out my real family possessed unimaginable wealth and power. My original plan was to let Sebastian propose today, and then bring him to meet my parents as my fiancé. Now, that dream was dead. The bathroom door was suddenly kicked open. Sebastian marched in, looking annoyed. “Is it out yet?” I refused to look at him. Without warning, he reached down and started ripping at my clothes. I fought back with everything I had left, but I was weak and bleeding. He overpowered me easily. I lay there in a pool of my own blood, trying uselessly to cover myself. Sebastian held his phone up, pointing the camera right at the gruesome scene. “Wifey, don’t worry. It’s gone. I saw it myself.” Raina’s shrill voice echoed from the speakerphone. “Send me the video, Seb. I need to show my friends so we know this little rat isn’t faking it.” She was going to leak the video. Blind panic surged through my veins. I forced myself up, lunging for his phone. But Sebastian just stepped back with a playful smirk. He treated me like a dancing monkey, snapping more photos of my pathetic, bloodstained state. Bitterness and despair choked me. “We loved each other for years, Sebastian. How can you be this evil?” His face went stone cold. “Do you have any idea what I went through for you? I begged Raina for months to let me keep you as a side piece. I didn’t throw you out on the street. I have been more than generous. Why are you so ungrateful?” A gut-wrenching sob tore from my throat. The room spun wildly, and I collapsed back into the blood. Raina giggled through the phone. “You know what, Seb? I finally get it. Hazel is just like that stray dog you took in a few years ago. I really shouldn’t be jealous of a dog, should I?” Sebastian immediately chimed in. “See how forgiving Raina is? Say thank you, Hazel.” I stayed dead silent. Sebastian actually stepped forward, grabbed my shoulders, and shook me hard. “Did you hear me?” I had just lost my baby. Every nerve in my body felt like it was being stabbed with needles. The shaking made me feel like my bones were snapping in half. Tortured by the pain, I squeezed two words through my teeth. “Thank you.” Sebastian finally looked satisfied. He dropped me back onto the bloody floor and walked out. Laying on those freezing tiles, the tears refused to stop. I had always known I was a foster kid. The family that took me in treated me like garbage. They beat me over the smallest things and starved me constantly. Sebastian was the one who noticed my bruises in high school. He started sneaking me portions of his own lunch every day. When the mean kids cornered me and called me a beggar, Sebastian threw punches to protect me. Once, I accidentally broke a plate while doing chores. My foster parents tied me up and beat me, screaming that I was worthless trash. When I didn’t show up to school for three days, Sebastian tracked down my address. He fought my foster parents to get to me. He was just a teenager. He got beaten black and blue, but he refused to back down until a neighbor finally called the cops. I thought about those memories constantly. My love for him was built on a foundation of profound gratitude. I gave him my soul. I gave him every penny I saved. I thought our bond was bulletproof. I never imagined he could become a monster. The bleeding was getting worse. A terrifying weakness washed over me. For a second, I thought it would be easier to just die right here on the floor. But then my biological parents flashed in my mind. They went through hell to find me. We had just found each other. I could not die. I had to survive for them. I dragged my fingers across the tile, desperately reaching for my phone to dial 911. But I was so weak I couldn’t even lift my arm. Just as my fingertips brushed the screen, heavy footsteps entered the room. Someone snatched the phone away. I tried to look up to see who it was, but the world went pitch black, and I passed out. When I opened my eyes again, the smell of cheap antiseptic burned my nose. I was lying in a rundown, back-alley clinic. Sebastian was sitting in a plastic chair next to the cot. He crossed his legs, a twisted smile on his lips. “Hazel, I saved your life again. Why are you always so ungrateful?” My voice was a raspy whisper. “How am I ungrateful?” He ignored my question. He turned to the shady doctor in the corner. “Are we done here? As long as she’s not bleeding out, she’s fine.” The doctor hesitated. “The bleeding has stopped for now, but she needs rest and…” Sebastian didn’t even let him finish. He grabbed my arm and violently yanked me off the cot. I stumbled, barely able to stand, as he dragged me outside and shoved me into the passenger seat of his car. “Where are we going?” I gasped. He didn’t say a word. The car ride was a dizzying, nauseating blur. When the engine finally cut off, I looked out the window. My breath hitched. The Belvedere Estate. This was the exact luxury venue where my parents were hosting their gala tonight. They were supposed to officially introduce me to high society. Why did Sebastian bring me here? Did he know about my parents? Before I could process anything, he dragged me out of the car by my wrist. He kicked open the heavy oak doors of a private VIP lounge. “Raina, I brought the trash.” My heart stopped. I was tossed onto the plush carpet. Sitting on the leather sofas were a dozen women dressed in couture gowns. Raina sat in the center, dripping in diamonds. When she saw me, she dramatically pulled her feet up onto the sofa, acting totally disgusted. “Seb, get this filthy woman away from me. I don’t want to look at her.” Sebastian grabbed a fistful of my hair, yanking my head back. “Don’t be scared, babe. I’ve got her handled.” He glared down at me, his eyes full of venom. “Hazel, why did you go online and post rumors calling my wife a homewrecker?” I shook my head weakly. “I didn’t.” He let out a sharp, mocking laugh. “Who else would it be? Do you really think playing the victim works anymore?” He stood up tall, pulling out his marriage certificate for the entire room to see. “Raina and I are legally married. We are husband and wife. This clout-chaser here isn’t even a decent side piece. Don’t believe a word she says.” To prove his loyalty to his rich wife, Sebastian leaned down and slapped me hard across the face. My cheek burned, but I stayed glued to the floor. I didn’t even flinch. I decided that slap repaid the debt of him saving me back in high school. We were officially even. Raina walked over in her designer heels. She put on a fake crying voice for her friends. “Hazel, Seb and I are married. Why are you so obsessed with destroying my life?” “I didn’t post anything,” I muttered. Raina leaned down, whispering directly into my ear so the others couldn’t hear. “I know you didn’t, you idiot. I made those posts myself. I did it to make Seb hate you. I wanted him to drag you here and humiliate you.” She smirked. “Do you know why I chose this venue? There is a massive billionaire gala happening in the main ballroom tonight. All the elites are here. I am going to make sure everyone in this city knows you are a dirty mistress. You will never show your face in public again.” I stared at her, my eyes wide with shock at her pure malice. Suddenly, Raina shrieked. She threw herself backward and started sobbing. “Why did you bite me!” Sebastian lost his mind. He stepped forward and kicked me squarely in the stomach. I curled into a ball as he rained kicks down on me, treating my body like a punching bag to vent his rage. When he finally backed away to catch his breath, Raina’s wealthy friends swarmed me. They dumped cold iced lattes over my head. They tossed dirty napkins and trash on my clothes. They circled me like vultures, hurling insults. “You delusional gold-digger. You really thought you could marry into Sebastian’s level?” “He’s a VIP guest of Mr. Kensington tonight. You are nothing but street trash.” “Exactly. Look around you. This is The Belvedere. You don’t even belong in the parking lot.” In my hazy, pain-filled state, I felt like a teenager again, surrounded by the bullies at my old school. But the boy who used to stand in front of me was now the one leading the pack. Suddenly, one of Raina’s friends held up her phone. “Hey guys, look what I’ve got. It’s a video of this whore getting her abortion.” The entire group gasped and crowded around the screen. The video played my agonizing screams. But nobody in that room felt an ounce of pity. Their faces were twisted in pure disgust. One of them got so worked up she kicked me in the ribs. “You are disgusting. Trying to trap a man with a baby?” Another girl laughed. “Post it everywhere. Let’s make her famous so guys know to avoid her.” Pure terror gripped me. I scrambled up, desperately trying to snatch the phone, but someone shoved me from behind. Fingers grabbed at my clothes, tearing the fabric. Flashes went off everywhere as they recorded my humiliation. “Beat the homewrecker! Teach her a lesson!” they chanted. Running on pure adrenaline, I shoved through the circle of women and bolted for the lounge doors. But I barely made it into the grand hallway before they caught up to me. They pinned me against the marble wall, slapping me and shoving their cameras directly into my face. Through the gaps in the crowd, I locked eyes with Sebastian. He stood by the lounge door, watching me get torn apart without a single shred of emotion on his face. Just as my legs gave out, a booming voice echoed down the corridor, followed by heavy footsteps. A squad of men in dark suits forcefully shoved the screaming women aside. The girls immediately started cursing. “Mind your own business! Do you want to get sued?” “What, are you sleeping with this dirty mistress too?” “We’ll get you canceled along with her!” But Sebastian’s face instantly drained of all color. He practically sprinted down the hall, bowing his head in extreme submission. “Mr. Kensington! Good evening, sir. I’m Sebastian.” The powerful man didn’t even look at him. His eyes were locked on me. His chest heaved, and he looked like he was on the verge of breaking down in tears. I forced a weak, bloodstained smile. “Dad,” I whispered. “You’re here.”

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1 Ten years later, I never expected to see my ex-wife Victoria again in a hospital. I was hit by an SUV while delivering food. Now a famous surgeon, she looked radiant. But seeing me, she immediately asked why I never found her after my discharge, saying she’d waited all these years. Before she finished, a man in a white coat approached and hugged her—Oliver Belmont, the surgeon who killed my sister on the operating table. I told Victoria she had the wrong person. As I tried to leave, she grabbed my gown, tearing it open and revealing the severe burn scars on my back. Watching her cry at the sight, I felt a deep irony. Years ago, to protect Oliver, she forged my medical records and had me locked in a psychiatric ward. I quietly pulled my gown back up, adjusting the fabric without looking back at her. “Dr. Victoria, if you are incapable of treating me, please transfer me to another hospital.” Victoria completely ignored my request. She lost her composure, stepping directly into my path to block my exit. “Andrew, what happened to your back?” She paused, her voice dropping to a trembling whisper. “How… how have you been all these years?” Just as she asked the question, Oliver finally noticed who I was. “Well, look who it is. Long time no see, Andrew.” He stepped up right beside me, reclaiming Victoria’s hand. He glanced down at the crushed delivery bag on the floor and let out a mocking laugh. “I was wondering why my lunch delivery was taking so long. Turns out you were the driver.” “Makes sense. This is exactly the kind of pathetic work you are suited for now. I know making a few bucks is hard for a guy like you, so don’t worry, I won’t report you to the app for a refund.” Victoria frowned, tugging hard on Oliver’s sleeve. “Stop it. Don’t say things like that here.” She turned back to me, opening her mouth a few times before she finally managed to speak. “Andrew, Oliver is still young. Please don’t take his words to heart.” “As for what happened back then, you have to understand. I had my reasons. I was forced into a corner.” Watching this man and woman perform their little routine, the memories of the past ten years stabbed into my brain like rusted needles. Ten years ago, Oliver was fresh out of med school and had absolutely no surgical qualifications. To fast-track his resume, Victoria broke protocol and allowed him to be the lead surgeon on my little sister’s operation. My sister, Sophie, had just been accepted into an elite prep school. She died on the operating table over a routine gallstone removal. When my mother heard the news, her heart gave out. She died of a massive cardiac arrest. My father broke down completely and jumped from the hospital roof, dying right in front of my eyes. Overnight, my entire family was wiped out. I had no idea about Victoria and Oliver’s secret affair. Frantic and grieving, I tried to go to the police. Instead, I was served with a forged psychiatric diagnosis and dragged away in a straitjacket. In that nightmare facility, I was force-fed heavy antipsychotics every single day. The slightest act of defiance earned me electroshock therapy and hours strapped down in isolation. I endured a decade of absolute hell, biting my own tongue until it bled just to keep my sanity intact. I only escaped because a massive fire broke out in the wing. I clawed my way out through the flames. I survived, but the third-degree burns permanently destroyed my body. And my brilliant mind was gone. I was no longer the fifteen-year-old engineering prodigy who had been accepted into a top-tier university. The memories made my eyes burn. But Oliver just scoffed, entirely unbothered. “Oh, come on, Victoria. Why are you wasting your pity on him?” “He never gave a damn about you. He didn’t care that going to the cops would ruin your entire medical career.” “Besides, what happened to his parents wasn’t our fault. Those two old fossils were just mentally weak.” The fragile thread holding my temper snapped. Before he could spit out another word, I spun around and smashed my fist directly into his face. “Shut your mouth!” “You are a murderer! You don’t have the right to even breathe their names!” The second the words left my mouth, Oliver shoved me violently backwards. The push was brutal. I was already severely injured from the car crash, and the back of my head slammed directly into the sharp corner of a medical cart. A blinding spike of agony ripped through my skull. My legs gave out entirely. “That is enough!” Victoria shoved Oliver back just as he raised his foot to kick me. She looked down at me, her chest heaving in silence. “What happened ten years ago was my fault. It had nothing to do with Oliver.” “You need to calm down. I will find another attending doctor for you.” “Don’t worry about the medical bills. I will compensate you.” With that, she grabbed Oliver by the arm and fled the hospital room like she was escaping a crime scene. 2 I laid on the freezing linoleum floor for what felt like hours. The doctor Victoria promised never arrived. I tried to force myself up several times, but my muscles completely refused to obey. Blood pooled beneath my head, expanding across the white tiles as my vision grew dark and blurry. Just as I was about to slip into unconsciousness, the door was thrown open. Several panicked nurses rushed in and hoisted me onto a stretcher. “Dr. Victoria is unbelievable,” one of the nurses complained bitterly. “We had an incoming trauma, and she forced us to drop everything to check Dr. Belmont for a headache!” “What could possibly be wrong with him? Meanwhile, this poor guy is bleeding out on the floor. Does she not understand triage?” The resident doctor wrapping a tight gauze bandage around my head immediately cut her off. “Shut up! You know exactly who his family is. If you want to keep your job, keep your mouth shut.” The nurse rolled her eyes in disgust but didn’t say another word. I laid on the hospital bed, closing my eyes as a wave of bitter grief washed over me. Victoria hadn’t noticed. Aside from my burned back, I also had ten severely deformed fingers. In the asylum, the orderlies had systematically broken my knuckles with a heavy flashlight, let them heal improperly, and then broken them again. When I was first committed, Oliver and Victoria played the ultimate victims on the evening news. They cried for the cameras, claiming that I had ignored explicit medical instructions and fed my sister prohibited solid food before her surgery, directly causing the fatal complication. Overnight, the public branded me a “murderer” and a “violent lunatic.” Everyone pitied Oliver and praised Victoria for doing the right thing by locking away her deranged husband. But behind the cameras, Oliver had leaned close to my ear, whispering with a sickening smile. “Give it up, Andrew. My family is loaded. Victoria needs me to get everything she wants in this world.” He even pulled out his phone, shoving a picture of Victoria sleeping peacefully naked against his chest right in my face. “You have no idea. She was so needy last night, she nearly broke me.” I lost my mind. I screamed and lunged at him, tearing at his clothes. And of course, the camera crews he had stationed perfectly caught my “psychotic breakdown” on film, solidifying his entire lie. That very night, because I refused to swallow my medication, an orderly shattered my index finger. That was how I survived a decade in hell. It wasn’t that I didn’t hate them. But I knew I couldn’t fight them. They had money, status, and power. Right now, my only goal was basic survival. I didn’t know when I passed out, but the next morning, I opened my eyes to see Victoria sitting in the chair beside my bed. There were heavy, dark bags under her eyes, and the whites of her eyes were bloodshot. She looked like she had stayed awake all night. “Andrew, I stayed here and watched over you.” She reached out, wanting to touch my arm, but her hand hovered awkwardly in the air before retreating to her lap. “I know you hate me. But you still have to find a way to live.” “You obviously can’t go back to engineering. But I can arrange a job for you here at the hospital.” She paused, avoiding my eyes. “A janitor position in the maternity ward. Fifteen dollars an hour, with full medical benefits. It is infinitely better than delivering food, and at least you won’t get hit by cars.” I stared at her for a long time. Then, I genuinely laughed out loud. “You and I both know exactly what happened ten years ago. Do you really want me to spell out your filthy, treacherous little secrets right here?” “Get out.” Her face darkened instantly, the mask of pity dropping entirely. “Andrew, do not push your luck!” I ignored her, closing my eyes and turning my head to the window. I could feel her standing over my bed for a long, heavy moment. Finally, she let out an exasperated sigh and walked out. For the next two weeks of my recovery, she covered all my medical expenses but never showed her face again. I was grateful for the peace and quiet. I foolishly believed the nightmare was over. Until the day of my discharge. I walked out of the hospital sliding doors and pulled up my delivery app to check my shifts. A bright red banner popped up. My account had been permanently banned. Panic setting in, I immediately called my dispatch manager. He answered the phone screaming. “Andrew, do you have no shame? You belong in an asylum, and you dare pretend to be normal to get a job here?” “Corporate sent down an explicit directive to terminate you. Do yourself a favor and lock yourself back up in the loony bin!” He hung up before I could reply. When I tried calling back, the automated voice told me I was blocked. My stomach plummeted. I knew exactly whose doing this was. Victoria. 3 Without the delivery job, I spent the entire week dragging myself across Boston, begging for work. But everywhere I went, people treated me like a walking plague. Some managers were incredibly hostile, literally chasing me out of their stores with broomsticks, screaming that a psycho had no business infecting normal society. Out of options, I decided to head back to the tiny, damp basement apartment I had been renting. But when I reached the front steps, I found all my meager belongings packed into trash bags and thrown onto the curb. My landlord was storming out of my unit holding the last few items of my clothing. When he saw me, he threw my shirts onto the wet pavement, spat violently at my feet, and slammed the heavy metal door shut with a deafening bang. I stepped forward to demand an explanation, but Mrs. Higgins, the sweet older lady who lived next door, grabbed my arm. Her eyes were red and watery. “Andrew, please. Have some mercy on us. Important people made it very clear that if you stay here, our entire block is going to suffer.” I froze in absolute silence. When the neighbors finally dispersed, I gathered my trash bags. Standing on the sidewalk, I realized that in this massive, sprawling city, I had absolutely nowhere left to go. Then, the rain started. It was a torrential downpour. I huddled under the narrow awning of a closed convenience store, staring blankly at the wet, neon-lit streets of a city that felt entirely alien to me. Maybe ending it all right here was the best outcome I could hope for. Just as the dark thought settled into my mind, a wave of muddy water splashed against my boots. I looked up. A sleek, black Porsche Cayenne had pulled up right in front of me. The door swung open, and Victoria stepped out, holding an expensive black umbrella. Seeing me shivering like a drowned rat, she frowned in distaste. But her voice carried a distinct note of arrogant triumph. “Why are you doing this to yourself, Andrew?” “I told you. If you just come back to the hospital with me, even as a janitor, you wouldn’t have to live like a stray dog.” I stood up straight, meeting her gaze. I didn’t offer her a single ounce of the desperate begging she was so clearly craving. My voice was dead. “And I told you to go to hell.” Victoria’s expression turned rigid. Before she could snap back, Oliver stepped out from the passenger side, wrapping his arms possessively around her waist from behind. “Victoria, why are you wasting your breath on trash like this? Let him starve. He will come crawling back to you begging on his knees when he is desperate enough.” Victoria didn’t correct him. She simply reached into her designer purse, pulled out a sleek business card, and tossed it onto the wet pavement at my feet. “Call me when you finally understand reality.” Without another word, she let Oliver lead her back into the luxury SUV. I watched the taillights fade into the rain. I left the card to dissolve in the puddle, picked up my soaked bags, and walked away. I knew exactly how Victoria operated. The moment you refused to bow to her, she would systematically destroy every avenue of survival until you had no choice but to surrender to her control. In that regard, she and Oliver truly were a match made in hell. I had nowhere to sleep. I walked aimlessly through the blinding storm. I didn’t know how far I walked. I walked until the black night slowly faded into a cold, gray dawn. When I finally stopped and looked around, I realized I had wandered all the way to the city’s outskirts. I was standing at the iron gates of the municipal cemetery. Looking at the distant hills where my parents and my sister were buried, a bitter smile cracked my frozen lips. This city wasn’t my home anymore. Everyone I ever loved was buried under this dirt. I used the last ten dollars in my pocket to buy a cheap bouquet of white chrysanthemums from a vendor. But when I approached my family’s plots, I froze. Incense was already burning. A middle-aged man was kneeling on the wet grass in front of their headstones, burning paper money and bowing his head. When he heard my footsteps, he jumped, his eyes wide with shock. Then, he cautiously spoke. “Mr. Andrew?” The moment he said my name, tears flooded his eyes. He literally crawled across the muddy grass toward me, violently shoving a bank card and a small black flash drive into my frozen hands. “Andrew, I was the surgical assistant during your sister’s operation. She died because Dr. Belmont administered a lethal dose of a contraindicated drug.” “He gave me a massive amount of hush money. My kid needed a heart transplant… I was desperate, so I took it. The rest of the blood money is on this card. And the flash drive… it has the unedited security footage of the OR and their text logs.” I gripped the flash drive, my hands shaking so violently I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t tell if it was the permanent nerve damage from my shattered knuckles, or the overwhelming adrenaline of finally, finally securing the truth. I stood in the silent graveyard for a long time. So this was it. After ten excruciating years, I was finally going to clear my name. I was finally going to get justice for the family I lost. 4 Clutching the flash drive to my chest, I sprinted out of the cemetery, heading straight for the nearest police precinct. But I hadn’t even made it three blocks down the deserted road when a blinding, agonizing strike hit the back of my skull. The world went entirely black. When I slowly regained consciousness, the smell of rust and mold filled my lungs. I was tied to a chair inside a massive, abandoned warehouse. A hulking man in a black jacket stood beside me, casually tapping a solid iron pipe against the concrete floor. His face was pure malice. Victoria stood a few feet away, looking down at me with profound disappointment. “Andrew, did you really have to push things this far?” “I am more terrified of seeing you get hurt than anyone else in the world. Why can’t you just be obedient?” I ignored her completely, thrashing wildly against the thick ropes binding me to the chair, desperate to feel my pockets to see if the flash drive was still there. Oliver finally stepped out of the shadows. He crouched down directly in front of me, pulling a small black object from his expensive slacks. He sneered. “Looking for this?” My entire body went rigid. It was the flash drive. The only piece of hope I had left in this miserable world. The blood in my veins turned to ice. I roared like a caged animal, violently jerking my body forward, trying to bite, to headbutt, to do anything to get it back. The force of my struggle snapped the rotted wood of the chair. I crashed heavily onto the concrete floor, still bound by the ropes. Oliver let out a dark, booming laugh. He casually tossed the small plastic drive onto the floor right in front of my face. “You want it so bad?” He lifted his heavy leather boot and brought it down with crushing force, grinding his heel until the plastic and the microchip completely shattered into useless fragments. “Too bad. There wasn’t anything on it anyway.” He turned to look up at Victoria, utterly victorious. “See, Victoria? I told you. He is a treacherous rat. You try to show him mercy, and not only does he spit in your face, he tries to drag you down to prison with him.” “It’s a good thing I paid some actors to stage that little confession at the graveyard. I can’t believe that after a decade in the loony bin, he is still this incredibly stupid.” My heart plummeted straight into the abyss. The very last shred of light in my soul was instantly extinguished. It was a setup. The confession, the evidence, the hope. It was all a psychotic illusion engineered by monsters. From the very beginning, they never intended to let me survive. I looked up at Victoria. Her eyes were red. She stared at me, playing the part of a wounded victim flawlessly. “Andrew, I didn’t want it to come to this. But why did you force my hand?” “Why couldn’t you just show a little empathy for my situation? Why do you have to be so horribly selfish?” Looking at the woman I used to love unconditionally, the woman I would have died for, I felt like I was looking at an alien creature. Empathy? Selfish? Because I wanted justice for my slaughtered parents and my dead little sister? Because I wanted the people who tortured me in a psychiatric ward for ten years to pay for their crimes? She didn’t give me a chance to answer. Having delivered her twisted moral lecture, she turned on her heel and headed for the heavy steel doors. “Oliver, do what you have to do.” “Just scare him. Don’t actually kill him.” With that, she disappeared into the light outside, the heavy doors slamming shut behind her. Oliver turned back to me, his face twisting into a sadistic, ugly grin. “Genius engineer? Prodigy?” He spat. “In my hands, you are nothing but a dying dog.” He flicked his wrist. The thug in the black jacket stepped forward and buried the toe of his steel-capped boot deep into my stomach. I screamed in agony, my body curling involuntarily into a tight ball. But that was just the beginning. The next second, the heavy iron pipe came crashing down on my ribs. I blacked out from the pain, only to be jolted awake by buckets of freezing water. Every time the pipe fell, I could hear and feel another bone splintering inside my body. My consciousness was fading fast. Right when I accepted that I was going to bleed to death on this filthy concrete floor, the piercing wail of heavy police sirens ripped through the air. Before Oliver could even react, the heavy steel doors of the warehouse were violently kicked off their hinges. A furious, booming voice echoed through the cavernous space. “Stop right there! You dare lay a finger on the bloodline of the Sinclair family?!”

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1 In the two years since my son was born, the intimacy between my husband and me completely evaporated. He used to be insatiable, constantly finding excuses to pull me into his arms. Now, even when I initiated the softest touch, he would subtly brush me off. Every time I swallowed my pride to close the distance, he would use the exact same gentle, apologetic tone. “Work is just suffocating me right now, Val.” I actually believed him. I thought the corporate grind was breaking his back, draining him of any leftover energy. That was until I picked up our son early from daycare, pushed open our front door, and froze at the sight of foreign lingerie scattered across our hardwood floor. Seconds later, a woman’s voice drifted from the kitchen. “Honey, your wife spends hours boiling you that artisanal bone broth, and I’m the one who ends up drinking it.” She was holding the exact thermal flask I had packed for my husband that morning. In that split second, the air left my lungs. It felt like someone had taken a baseball bat to my face. My mind went entirely blank. Instinct took over. I hurled my diaper bag straight at them. The woman’s shriek echoed off the high ceilings. But my husband, Dominic, was terrifyingly calm. He just stared dead into my eyes and delivered the final blow that shattered my reality. That was the moment I finally understood. A man’s desire never simply vanishes. It just gets redirected to someone else. … After the chaos settled, Dominic wrapped a plush towel around his waist and nonchalantly lit a cigarette. He watched my bloodless face through the drifting smoke, his voice devoid of any warmth. “Stella is just a bedmate, Val. Don’t make this bigger than it is.” Right on cue, the woman scooped up her clothes from the floor and shimmied into her dress. She twisted her waist, winking at me with sickening playfulness. “Mrs. Blackwood, I swear. Dom and I are purely…” She clapped her hands together, letting the sharp sound hang in the air. “…physical.” She puckered her cherry-red lips, leaning in to kiss his jaw. “My wife is standing right here. Leave.” Dominic shifted his weight, issuing the eviction notice with ice in his veins. “Ugh, men are all the same. Zip up your pants and suddenly you don’t know me.” Stella wasn’t even offended. She just giggled, strutting toward the door. “Mrs. Blackwood, I am so jealous you have such a considerate husband.” Every time she called me Mrs. Blackwood, it felt like she was twisting a serrated blade into my ribs. Dominic stepped closer. He reached out to stroke my cheek as if we were discussing the weather. “Why are you home early? Weren’t you supposed to be at the botanical gardens?” Our platinum wedding band was still gleaming on his ring finger. The same finger that had just been tangled in another woman’s sheets. Bile clawed at my throat. I slapped his hand away with brutal force and practically sprinted to the kitchen sink, gripping the marble edges. “Do not touch me.” Dominic’s expression hardened. The way he looked at me shifted from patronizing to downright cold. “Valerie, do you really have to be this dramatic?” I stopped splashing cold water on my face. A hysterical laugh bubbled in my chest. Since when did Dominic become someone who treated loyalty like a joke? I remembered the early days of his startup. A gorgeous young intern had slipped a hotel key card into his jacket pocket. When he came home and told me, his face had been twisted in disgust. “Cheap,” he had spat, tossing the plastic card straight into the trash grinder in front of me. “People change.” I flinched. It was as if he had read my mind. Dominic offered the words like a bored professor giving a lecture. “You changed too, didn’t you?” His eyes dragged over my body, a flash of undeniable repulsion flickering in his pupils. “You became nagging. Explosive. Exhausted and out of shape. Do you even remember the girl you used to be?” He adjusted his watch. “So if I strayed, you share half the blame.” Dropping that sickening piece of gaslighting like it was gospel, Dominic grabbed his coat and walked out the front door. Water dripped from my chin into the stainless steel basin. I honestly couldn’t tell if it was from the faucet or my own tears. Three years ago, Dominic had been the one to beg me to drop my childfree stance. “Val, a kid is the ultimate bond. Your career is already stellar, we have everything we need. Wouldn’t it be beautiful to create a life together? We’ll show him the world. We’ll be the perfect family.” He broke down my walls, but in the end, I was the only one paying the price. Pregnancy wrecked my immune system. I broke out in full-body hives. My skin stretched until angry purple scars marked my stomach. My edge in the boardroom dulled because I was running on zero sleep. Meanwhile, Dominic remained polished, handsome, effortlessly gliding between his booming business and a quiet home. In the beginning, he tried. He would bring me flowers, rub my swollen ankles, coax a smile out of me. But slowly, the effort became an inconvenience. Suddenly, a piercing scream shattered my thoughts. My heart stalled. I bolted up the stairs. Our nanny was frantic, tearing through the medicine cabinet. “Finn is having a reaction! Someone put peach juice in his sippy cup!” There was no time to think. I snatched my crying baby, whose face was already swelling into a terrifying shade of red, and sprinted to the car. By the time the ER nurses administered the epinephrine, Finn’s color finally started returning to normal. My spine hit the hospital chair, the adrenaline crash leaving me hollow. Then, a pair of blood-red stilettos stepped into my line of sight. Stella slid into the plastic chair beside me. Her smile was the stuff of nightmares. She leaned in, her voice a sickly sweet whisper. “Next time, don’t come home so early. I really hate being interrupted when I’m riding him. If it happens again, I can’t guarantee your little heartbeat over there will be so lucky.” “It was you.” My voice was dead calm, but a feral, violent rage was boiling just beneath my skin. Stella arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow, completely ignoring the accusation. “Finally getting my prescription. Dom was a little too rough with me today, left me super sore. Honestly, I’m kind of jealous you’ve had it so easy these past couple of years.” She stood up, rolling her hips as she turned to leave. I gently handed my sleeping baby to the nanny. Then I walked up behind Stella, grabbed her by the shoulder, and drove my fist straight into the bridge of her nose. “My face!” Stella hit the linoleum floor in a heap. Blood exploded down her chin as she shrieked in absolute terror. The image of my son’s purple, swollen face flashed in my mind. I raised my fist, fully prepared to break her jaw next. But a heavy body slammed into mine, shoving me back. Dominic. “Valerie, are you insane!” “She almost killed Finn!” I screamed, my vocal cords tearing. Stella’s smug, threatening face was burned into my retinas. But Dominic stepped in front of her, shielding the mistress with his own body. His voice was laced with pure acid. “You are paranoid! Nobody touched Finn! Just because your psychotic stepmom abused you when you were a kid doesn’t mean you get to project your trauma onto innocent people!” A loud ringing drowned out the emergency room. My head felt like it was splitting open. When I was sixteen, my mother took a handful of pills because of my father’s affairs. The mistress moved in before the dirt settled on the grave, and my life turned into a living hell. Slaps. Belts. Cigarette burns. I took it all in silence. Until one afternoon, my stepmom saw a teenage Dominic walking me home from school. She cracked me across the jaw. “Little tramp. Starting early, just like your dead mother.” That was the moment my soul fractured. Humiliation and blind rage took the wheel. I grabbed a kitchen knife, my knuckles turning white. But Dominic’s fists were faster. He beat my stepmom until she was a sobbing, bloody mess on the floor. “No wonder Valerie is always covered in bruises,” he had yelled. “I like her, but she hasn’t even agreed to date me! Keep your filthy mouth shut!” My stepmom went to the ICU. Dominic went to a juvenile holding cell. As the cops put him in the cruiser, he looked at me through the glass and smiled. “You never have to be afraid again, Val. If she touches you, I’ll put her in the ground next time.” Seventeen-year-old Dominic was willing to throw his life away for me. Twenty-seven-year-old Dominic just drove a knife into my chest to protect another woman. “Perfect.” The word slipped out of my mouth like a dying breath. A flash of genuine panic crossed Dominic’s eyes. “Val, wait, I didn’t mean…” He finally looked past me, realizing we were standing outside the pediatric ward. He took a step toward me. “Is Finn okay? I just saw the texts.” Before he could reach me, Stella whimpered from the floor, clutching her bleeding face. “Dom, I’m so dizzy…” Without a single second of hesitation, Dominic spun around. He scooped Stella into his arms and rushed toward the trauma doors. He didn’t even look back. The nurses and waiting patients stared at me with profound, suffocating pity. I was the punchline of a very sick joke. Midnight came and went. Dominic never came home. At some point, Stella had found my Instagram. Her stories were public. “Thank you for always putting me first.” “Words aren’t enough, so I’ll just have to show my gratitude.” The photo showed her in a sheer lingerie set, sitting on a hotel bed. You couldn’t see the man’s face behind her, but I knew the exact curve of his shoulders. It was Dominic. The last fragile string holding my heart together simply dissolved. His son had nearly died, and he didn’t care. He humiliated his wife in public, and felt no remorse. All he cared about was burying himself in a younger, tighter body. I stared at my lawyer’s contact in my phone until the screen blurred. Tears dripped onto the glass. I let out a guttural, agonizing scream and hurled the phone at the wall, shattering it into pieces. I couldn’t swallow this. The injustice of it was burning me alive. The very next afternoon, I agreed to meet Stella at a downtown café. She had a stark white bandage across her nose, but her eyes were dancing with victory. She sipped her iced latte and smirked. “Valerie, why haven’t you filed the papers yet? I really didn’t peg you as the pathetic, clingy type.” Sitting under the weight of her mocking gaze, I felt a flicker of shame. But I forced it down, pasting on a flawless, untouchable smile. “You don’t understand our history. You don’t know what we’ve survived together. That’s why I’m giving him a pass.” I played the role of the tolerant, old-money wife, dismissing the mistress like a minor pest. Stella went completely still. Then, she threw her head back and laughed. She looked at me with genuine, unadulterated pity. “Oh, honey. Let me guess. You’re talking about the time he saved you from the wicked stepmother?” My perfect smile froze. Stella pulled out her phone and hit play on an old, grainy video. It was seventeen-year-old Dominic. He looked wild, arrogant, completely alien to the man I married. Standing next to him was a teenage Stella, wearing a skin-tight red dress, looking like trouble. “Listen closely, Dom,” the younger Stella purred. “You get the little honors-student freak to fall in love with you, then you crush her. You pull that off, and I’ll let you take me upstairs.” Teenage Dominic smirked, his tone dripping with bored confidence. “Bet. Give me three months. It’ll be a walk in the park.” The rest of the audio faded into white noise. The room spun. The only thing I could hear was the frantic, deafening thud of my own heartbeat. Stella rested her chin on her hand, soaking in my devastation. “Your grand, beautiful rescue story, Val? It was just a game to get into my pants.” My vision blurred. My voice was barely a whisper. “Why? I never did anything to you.” Stella rolled her eyes. “Because you were the golden girl. Perfect grades, perfect face. I hated girls like you, walking around thinking you deserved the world.” Her expression suddenly twisted into pure venom. “And then he actually caught feelings for you! He broke the bet. You’re the real homewrecker here, Valerie! So don’t you ever sit there and judge me!” The pain in my chest was absolute. My replacement phone buzzed on the table. Dominic’s name flashed across the screen, illuminating my ghost-white reflection in the dark glass. I hit decline. I stood up, my legs feeling like lead. Behind me, Stella called out in a lazy drawl. “Don’t be a coward now, golden girl! Show a little spine! Ha!” That evening, Dominic came home early. He brought a massive bouquet of Casablanca lilies, my favorite. He looked nervous, shifting his weight before finally asking, “Why were you declining my calls?” My eyes were dead. I just stared at him, letting the silence stretch until it became suffocating. Dominic’s pulse visibly jumped in his throat. He looked panicked. “What’s wrong? Why are you so pale?” My fingers tightened around the divorce papers I had drafted that afternoon. “Is there anything you want to tell me?” Dominic froze, then forced a bright, artificial laugh. “Tomorrow is Finn’s birthday. We’re hosting it here. My parents are dying to see him, and all our friends are coming. Tell me what you want to eat, I’ll cook.” His voice grew softer, more hypnotic, as he stepped forward and pulled me into his chest. “Val, you’re the only woman I love. I swear to you, I will never agree to a divorce.” But I wanted out. I bit my tongue. For Finn’s second birthday, I would give him one last day of a whole family. Once the candles were blown out, we were done. Dominic spared no expense, turning the backyard into a carnival. He even posted a disgustingly sweet family photo of the three of us on his socials. But he underestimated how unhinged his little side piece truly was. The morning of the party, I walked out of the kitchen with a tray of drinks and froze. Standing dead center in our living room, surrounded by our guests, was Stella. She was wearing a skin-tight red dress, identical to the one from the video. She had Finn in her arms, smirking right at me. The last thread of my sanity snapped. I dropped the tray, glass shattering everywhere, and lunged at her. I ripped my son out of her grip. “What the hell are you doing here! Get out of my house!” My whole body was violently shaking as I clutched Finn to my chest. Because in that split second before I grabbed him, I saw the way her arms had swung back. She was getting ready to drop him. Dominic shoved through the crowd of confused relatives, his face ashen. He grabbed my elbow, hissing under his breath. “Val, stop overreacting.” I violently yanked my arm away. Tears burned my eyes. “Kick her out! It’s your son’s birthday! Why is your whore standing in my living room?” Dominic’s face darkened into a scowl. “Keep your voice down. She’s already here, I can’t just throw her out in front of everyone.” “Have you ever respected me for a single second of your life?” The stares of our family and friends were burning holes into my back. I felt completely exposed, like someone had peeled off my skin. Suddenly, the massive projector screen in the center of the room—which had been cycling through cute baby photos—went pitch black. When it flickered back to life, it wasn’t Finn. It was security footage of my stepmom beating me in our old kitchen. “Little tramp! Take it off! Let’s see the little slut you really are!” The abusive screams blasted through the surround sound speakers. The entire party went graveyard silent. I felt a phantom blade plunge straight through the top of my skull, nailing me to the floorboards. Dominic dropped his drink. He sprinted toward the media console, desperately yanking cords out of the wall. “Val, I swear it wasn’t me—” Of course it wasn’t him. I slowly turned my head toward Stella. She was smiling brightly, though she gave a mock-innocent shrug for the crowd. Every sound in the room faded into a dull ringing. I handed Finn to a paralyzed friend, and walked straight toward the red dress. While she was still grinning her victorious smile, I swung my arm with everything I had and cracked her across the face. “Ah!” She lost her footing and crashed backward into the glass wine cabinet. Bottles shattered, raining red wine and glass over her head. She tried to scramble up, but I planted my heel straight into her chest and kicked her back into the wreckage. “Enough!” Dominic roared, grabbing me from behind and throwing me backward. His grip was so brutal I thought my shoulder was going to pop out of its socket. He looked at Stella like she was a dying angel. I laughed, a broken, ugly sound, and slapped him square across the jaw. Dominic didn’t hit back. The veins in his neck just bulged as he absorbed the blow. Stella screeched, launching herself forward and shoving me hard in the chest. “Who the hell do you think you are! You want to play the victim in front of your little friends?” Stella screamed at the top of her lungs. “Look in the mirror! You’re the real homewrecker!” Dominic’s eyes widened in sheer panic. He lunged to cover her mouth.

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1 The Winston Group’s grand anniversary gala was crawling with the city’s elite. The charismatic emcee enthusiastically invited Dominic, the CEO, and his quote-unquote “most vital partner” to pour the ceremonial champagne tower. I stood right beside him, watching his gaze soften as he turned to the woman in the pristine white gown. Under the blinding spotlight, he extended his hand to Jasmine. “Jasmine, you have worked relentlessly these past few months. This honor belongs to you.” In my past life, this was the exact moment I played my desperate trump card. I used the tiny, newly discovered life growing in my womb and the guarantee of securing the massive Henderson account to pathetically claw back my place at his side. I thought I had won. Right up until the eve of my delivery, when Dominic paraded a heavily pregnant Jasmine into the Winston family estate and threw a divorce settlement in my face. That was when the delusion shattered. I was never a wife to him. I was a stepping stone, a tool to solidify his corporate empire, meant to be discarded the second my usefulness expired. But I had been given a second chance. And this time, I refused to play their twisted game. … I watched with dead eyes as Jasmine linked her arm through Dominic’s. Together, they walked toward the shimmering champagne tower that symbolized the Winston Group’s crowning glory. Under the brilliant lights, they looked like the perfect power couple. I quietly took a step back into the shadows. Pulling out my phone, I deleted the ultrasound report I had queued up to send him. The ceremony concluded to thunderous applause. Jasmine approached me with a crystal flute of champagne in hand. Her tone dripped with fake apology, but her eyes were gleaming with triumph. “Mrs. Winston, I am so sorry. By all rights, it should have been you up there with the CEO.” Dominic strolled over, his expression utterly indifferent. “Valerie, tonight is a critical night for the corporation. Focus on the bigger picture and stop throwing a tantrum. Jasmine has sacrificed a lot for this company. Bringing her on stage shows the employees that leadership values their hard work.” I looked at him, a faint, icy smile touching my lips. “Am I throwing a tantrum? Miss Jasmine, did I demand an apology from you? You are awfully eager to paint me as the villain. It feels a bit like moral kidnapping, don’t you think?” The smug smile on Jasmine’s face instantly froze. Dominic’s brow furrowed into a sharp V. “Valerie, watch your tone. Jasmine was just trying to be polite.” “Then I thank Miss Jasmine for her overwhelming politeness.” I cut him off, my voice dropping to a freezing temperature. “Dominic, Mr. Henderson just arrived.” Jasmine chimed in with her sickeningly sweet voice, smoothly wrapping her hands around Dominic’s arm again. “Shall I accompany you to greet him?” Dominic nodded, not even looking at me. “Valerie, come with us. It is a good opportunity for you to socialize with Mrs. Henderson.” Looking at the two of them made my stomach churn with physical revulsion. “No thanks. I am not feeling well. I am going home.” Dominic’s voice turned incredibly harsh. “Valerie, do not make a scene at an event like this.” Jasmine’s face scrunched into a mask of exaggerated concern. “Mrs. Winston, tonight is so important. If you leave now and force Dominic to handle the investors all alone, it will look terrible to the board.” I looked at her and let out a genuine laugh. “With such a capable partner by his side, I am sure the CEO will succeed in whatever he attempts tonight.” Dominic’s face turned livid. He let out a cold scoff, refused to look at me a second longer, and turned on his heel, taking Jasmine with him. Watching their retreating figures, the very last agonizing thread of my lingering attachment from my past life dissolved into nothing. “Valerie, it has been years, but you certainly have changed.” A deep, teasing voice drifted from the shadows beside me. I turned around, momentarily stunned. The man leaning against the marble pillar wore an impeccably tailored dark suit. He had forgone a tie, and the top button of his dress shirt was casually undone. There was a lazy, predatory grace about him. I had no idea how long he had been watching. “What? Forgotten me already?” “Gabriel.” I breathed his name. Gabriel chuckled, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Becoming Mrs. Winston has certainly transformed you. You are so incredibly… tolerant.” I suppressed a wave of nausea from my early pregnancy and frowned slightly. “Since when do you enjoy eavesdropping, Gabriel?” A spark of interest flashed in his eyes. He raised an eyebrow and took a slow step forward, closing the distance between us. “Eavesdropping is never quite as thrilling as… stealing someone away. Wouldn’t you agree, Mrs. Winston?” 2 A small, genuine smile bloomed on my face. “You always did have a twisted sense of humor.” Gabriel laughed softly. “Maybe. But the fiery little girl who used to drop caterpillars down my shirt would never have swallowed an insult like that.” I froze. The memories came rushing back in a tidal wave. When we were kids, Gabriel and I were neighbors. He was the quintessential heir to a massive dynasty, always perfectly groomed and aloof. I was the neighborhood terror. None of the other kids wanted to play with me. Only Gabriel. He never got mad at my endless pranks. Even when I pushed him into the mud, he would just sit there, looking up at me with that same easy, indulgent smile. That all ended in high school when his family’s empire collapsed. They moved out of the estate in the dead of night, and I never saw Gabriel again. I couldn’t help but tease him back. “You have a surprisingly good memory.” Gabriel smiled, his gaze softening as he studied my pale face. “You look terrible. Do you want me to give you a ride home?” Before I could answer, Dominic’s voice sliced through the air like a whip. “Valerie, what the hell are you doing?” I turned to look at my husband, my expression completely blank. Dominic’s face was clouded with dark, stormy anger. “Aren’t you going to explain yourself?” “Explain what?” I asked, my tone flat. Gabriel took his time smoothing out his immaculate cuffs. “Valerie isn’t feeling well. I was just offering her a ride home. Don’t overthink it, Dominic. Valerie and I go way back. We were close long before she even knew your name.” Dominic’s jaw clenched. He fought to keep his rage in check as he issued an order. “Go wait for me in the VIP lounge. We will leave together when the gala ends.” The old me would have instantly submitted. But now… “There is no need. Focus on the bigger picture. Go entertain your guests, Dominic.” Minutes later, I was standing outside the hotel. A heavy suit jacket, still retaining a man’s body heat, settled over my shoulders. Gabriel stood behind me, wearing only his dress shirt in the cool night air. “My car is right here.” I pulled the lapels of the jacket tighter around myself. I didn’t refuse. “Thank you, Gabriel.” “You were never this polite when we were kids.” I made it back to the empty mansion. The second I stepped through the grand double doors, my best friend Sienna called. “Valerie, have you seen the trending topics? Are you okay?” I pulled up the social media app. [Winston Group CEO Dominic Caught on Midnight Rendezvous with Innocent Beauty. Intimate Hotel Lobby Photos Inside.] [Dominic’s New Flame Revealed. Billionaire Protects Mystery Woman from Paparazzi.] [High Society Fairy Tale Shattered? Divorce Rumors Swirl Around Valerie.] Beneath the glaring, sensationalized headlines were high-definition photos of Dominic and Jasmine. The angles were undeniably intimate. The relaxed, genuinely affectionate smile on his face was blindingly painful to look at. I used to think he was just naturally cold. I spent years agonizing, wondering if I just wasn’t good enough, warm enough, or perfect enough to melt his icy exterior. Now I knew the truth. His coldness was reserved exclusively for me. Sienna’s voice shifted from frantic worry to absolute fury. “Valerie, I am losing my mind! What kind of sick marriage is this? I don’t understand why you put up with it. What are you even getting out of this?” “Sienna.” I cut her off softly. My voice was eerily calm. “Don’t worry. I am done putting up with it.” There was dead silence on the other end of the line. She clearly hadn’t expected me to sound so detached. “Are you serious?” Once upon a time, I was naive enough to believe I had struck gold. I thought I had actually married for love within the ruthless world of corporate matchmaking. I abandoned my own career aspirations. I chipped away at my own personality to mold myself into the perfect accessory he required. He didn’t want me interfering with the company’s daily operations. Instead, he needed me to navigate the treacherous, venomous social circles of the city’s elite wives, spinning a massive, unbreakable web of connections for his benefit. For three years. I sat through agonizingly boring symphonies with Mrs. Kensington, just so she would whisper sweet things about the Winston Group into her husband’s ear. I swallowed my pride and catered to Mrs. Henderson’s volatile temper, securing her husband’s crucial vote during the board’s most vicious proxy war. I memorized the exact birth dates, allergies, and obscure hobbies of every single socialite and heiress in the city. I delivered flawless gifts and defused countless potential PR disasters before they even sparked. I conquered high society. Everyone praised Valerie as the most elegant, capable wife a billionaire could ask for. 3 Every time I saw Dominic on the financial news, celebrating a newly acquired monopoly and watching his net worth skyrocket, I convinced myself my sacrifices were worth it. I loved him. I was willing to be the invisible woman pulling the strings in the dark. But now… I was utterly repulsed by the thought. A heavy thud echoed from the foyer downstairs. I reassured Sienna and hung up the phone. Dominic was home. Reeking of expensive scotch, he stumbled into the living room, his brow furrowed. He didn’t even notice I wasn’t waiting at the door to take his coat. He violently yanked his silk tie loose, collapsed into the imported leather sofa, and let his head fall back, rubbing his temples with his eyes squeezed shut. I stood at the top of the sweeping staircase, staring down at him with arctic indifference. “Valerie, get me some water.” He gave the order out of sheer, arrogant habit. I didn’t move a muscle. When no glass of water magically appeared, he opened his bloodshot eyes and glared up at me. The crease between his eyebrows deepened. “Valerie, did you not hear me?” I remained perfectly still. Dominic sighed, as if my very existence was a monumental burden. The accusations started spilling out of his mouth. “What was that little stunt you pulled tonight? Leaving the gala without a word? Mrs. Henderson finally graced us with her presence, and instead of acting like a proper hostess, you vanish. Do you have any idea how hard I had to work to do damage control? If the Henderson project falls through because of your petty jealousy, do you know how many millions the company will lose?” Listening to his self-righteous, arrogant rambling, I suddenly wanted to laugh. He knew exactly what I was worth. He knew exactly how much power my social maneuvering gave him. But in his eyes, my blood, sweat, and humiliation were nothing but my basic marital duty. Looking at his flushed, intoxicated face, the horrific memories of my past life flashed before my eyes. The image of him kicking me out into the freezing rain while Jasmine leaned against his chest, rubbing her swollen belly with a victorious smirk. A dark, chilling laugh escaped my throat. Dominic’s ranting ground to a halt. He stared at me in genuine shock. “What the hell is so funny?” I stopped laughing. I slowly descended the stairs until I was standing directly in front of him. My eyes were stripped of the blind devotion and the suffocating tolerance of the past. There wasn’t even any disappointment left. Just an icy, hollow void. “Dominic, you are terrified the project will fail? Terrified the company will lose money?” I leaned down, forcing him to meet my gaze. “But did you ever stop to worry about how your wife… how I… would feel seeing my husband plastered all over the internet with another woman? Did you ever wonder if it would break my heart? If it would completely shatter my faith in you?” Dominic froze. A flicker of guilt flashed in his eyes, but it was instantly swallowed by defensive rage. “The media is just making things up to get clicks. Since when have you been so incredibly irrational? You are actually taking cheap tabloid gossip seriously?” “Making things up?” A bitter sneer twisted my lips. “A CEO and his secretary. Even if you are closely aligned, it is just a working relationship. Does work require you to hold her like she is the most precious thing in the world? You have played me for a fool for three years, Dominic. Don’t insult my intelligence.” “For three years, I have debased myself, playing court jester to those arrogant wives. Without me, there is no Henderson project. Without me, you never would have gotten the Kensington board votes. Without me, Commissioner Davis would have shut down your zoning permits.” “You sit on your throne, reaping all the rewards, and then you stand on stage and give all the glory and respect to your little secretary.” I took a deep, steadying breath, suppressing the violent urge to scream. “Dominic, the free ride is officially over.” He was stunned into silence. It took him a long moment to clumsily rise to his feet. His voice was laced with dark warning. “Valerie, tonight was messy. I admit that. The PR department will scrub the internet by morning. Once the Henderson contract is signed, I will buy you whatever you want. Just drop it.” ‘Whatever you want.’ That empty promise had kept me leashed to him for years. I didn’t need it anymore. From now on, whatever I wanted, I would take with my own two hands. “Keep your money, Dominic. I want a divorce.”

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