Category: English

Because I accidentally stained the dress of my husband’s childhood friend, Nina, he forced me to have ten abortions. To appease Nina, he made me get pregnant and abort, again and again. On the tenth time, I begged him, my voice cracking. “Luke, please, I’m begging you. It’s been nine times. This is your child, too!” Luke looked down at me, his tone as charitable as if he were tossing a coin to a beggar. “I promised Nina I’d punish you ten times. This is the last one. Just bear with it. I’ll let you keep the next one.” I closed my eyes in despair, surrendering to the cold, sterile instruments as they stole the life from my womb once more. Suddenly, a mechanical voice echoed in my mind: [Rebound System activated for host. All damage received will be reflected back upon the perpetrator.] 1 I opened my eyes to a world of blinding white, the familiar, sharp scent of antiseptic filling my senses. Surprisingly, Luke was sitting by my bed, his expression a blank mask. “Scarlett, ten punishments. You should have learned your lesson by now. Be more careful next time. Don’t upset Nina over something so trivial.” “Nina’s coming to see you later,” he continued, his voice casual, as if the ten punishments were as simple as a child being told to write lines. “Don’t you dare give her a sour face. Apologize properly, and we can put this behind us.” But I was the one who had felt the searing pain of my flesh being torn apart ten times. Three years of suppressed grief and indignation surged through me, and my eyes instantly reddened. “I’ve told you a hundred times, she walked into my wine glass. She framed me on purpose! I did nothing wrong. What gives you the right to take away my chance to be a mother, again and again?” Luke’s face darkened, his voice turning to ice. “That’s enough, Scarlett! I’ve seen the security footage. You deliberately tried to embarrass her. And now you’re trying to slander her? You will apologize to Nina today.” Before I could argue, the door opened and Nina walked in. She looked at Luke with a wounded expression. “Luke, maybe we should just forget it. Scarlett seems so unwilling. It’s okay if I’m a little upset, I don’t want to cause trouble between you two.” Luke’s gaze softened as he looked at her, his voice sickeningly sweet. “How could I do that? It breaks my heart to see you upset. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure she apologizes to you today.” He turned back to me, his eyes cold. “You should learn from Nina. She’s so much more understanding. If you don’t want another punishment, you’ll apologize to her right now.” It was always like this. Forcing me to apologize to Nina right after an abortion. Even when the security footage had obvious gaps, even when I saw a flicker of doubt in his own eyes, he always chose to believe Nina. When I refused to apologize, he would ignore my fragile state and force himself on me in that very hospital bed. And I, like a fool, believed each time would be the last. I would feel a flicker of joy with each new pregnancy, only to have it crushed into despair. This time, I didn’t scream or fight like before. I turned my head away, my silence a wall of defiance. I could hear the anger in Luke’s breathing. He grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him. “Scarlett, don’t test my patience. Apologize to Nina now, or you won’t like the consequences.” A bitter laugh escaped my lips. “And if I don’t?” His grip tightened, his voice merciless. “It seems the punishments haven’t been enough. If you insist on being stubborn, I don’t mind making you lose the chance to be a mother one more time.” My body tensed instinctively. My eyes blazed with fury as I stared him down. “Luke Anderson, you wouldn’t dare.” He smiled, a chilling, predatory grin. “Dare? I’ve dared many times before. And you seem to enjoy it, don’t you?” His hand moved to the waistband of my hospital pants, pulling them down. A wave of goosebumps erupted over my skin. I pressed my hands against him, my voice a raw scream. “Luke, what do you think you’re doing? I’m still bleeding! You can’t do this to me, I’ll get an infection!” The violent movement tore the IV needle from my vein. Blood streamed down the back of my hand, pooling on the floor. He hesitated for a fraction of a second. Nina tugged on his sleeve, her voice a pathetic whimper. “Luke, don’t force her. She’s a lady of high society, she can’t be treated this way. Unlike me, I’m just a nobody. I can’t say a word even when I’m publicly humiliated…” Luke’s face grew even darker. “High society? Can’t be treated this way? I’ll show her what real humiliation is today!” With a savage tug, he ripped my pants down. The cold air hit my exposed skin. I trembled violently, a tidal wave of shame crashing over me. I fought back, gathering all my strength and slapping him hard across the face. “You animal!” The blow stunned him. His face contorted with rage, and he grabbed my collar, shoving me back. My body fell like a leaf, my head smashing against the corner of the bedside cabinet. A sticky, red liquid instantly blinded me. Luke froze, reaching out to help me, but Nina let out a piercing shriek. “Luke, I’m getting dizzy… the blood…” Luke paused for only a moment before sweeping Nina into his arms. He opened his mouth to say something to me, but the door swung open. “What is going on in here?” 2 A nurse rushed in. Seeing my blood-covered face, she immediately started to staunch the bleeding. She shot a disapproving glare at Luke, who was still holding Nina. “The patient just had a termination procedure. She needs to rest. How could you, her husband, let her get hurt? If you’re not here to care for her, then please leave immediately and don’t disturb her recovery!” Luke looked embarrassed, his eyes flickering towards me with a complex expression. But I refused to meet his gaze, sitting silently as the nurse cleaned and bandaged my wound. Luke’s expression hardened. He turned and left, his arm still around Nina. The nurse scowled at their retreating backs before turning to me. “If you don’t want kids, use protection. Even a body made of iron couldn’t withstand this many abortions. The doctor said you’re at high risk for habitual miscarriages now.” I said nothing. The dream of motherhood was already dead to me. Seeing my silence, the nurse sighed. “I know this might sound harsh, but with a husband that irresponsible, why don’t you just divorce him?” Her question was a needle piercing my heart, sending out a thousand tiny splinters of pain. Luke and I met in college. When we started our business, we lived in a basement apartment, eating discarded vegetables we picked up from the market. To secure one deal, I debased myself by walking a client’s dog, cleaning his toilet like a janitor. We couldn’t afford staff, so we were our own delivery drivers. I, weighing less than a hundred pounds, would haul hundred-pound crates, the weight digging bloody welts into my shoulders. I was once forced to drink so much with a client that I fell into a coma from alcohol poisoning for three days and nights. Ten years. We built a company from a few hundred thousand to a publicly traded corporation worth over a hundred million. We had been through so much together. I had tried to divorce him. But our lives were too deeply entangled. Every time, he would cry and beg like a guilty child. He even used his connections to sideline me from the company while I was recovering. If I insisted on a divorce, I would leave with nothing. Time and again, my heart would soften. I would compromise, sinking deeper and deeper into the abyss. I told myself I didn’t leave because of the assets. But a voice deep inside screamed the truth: I couldn’t let go of the love I still had for him. Ten times, Luke. You’ve finally exhausted every last drop of my love. My thoughts were interrupted as another nurse pushed the door open. “Scarlett, was that your husband who just left this room? A chandelier just fell and smashed a huge hole in his head. You should go check on him.” The nurse who had bandaged me smirked. “Serves him right. That’s karma for you!” I was stunned. The system’s cheerful voice rang in my ear: [Congratulations, Host. Damage rebound successful. Please proceed to the next unlock.] I shot up from the bed, a laugh bubbling up from my chest. “Go? Of course, I’m going.” When I reached the emergency room, a doctor was cleaning Luke’s wound. His face and body were covered in blood. Nina sat beside him, her own face splattered with blood, looking pale and terrified. Our eyes met through the glass doors of the ER. The panic in his eyes vanished, replaced by an unreadable emotion. I stared at him, not moving, not speaking. I simply mouthed two words: “Karma.” Then, ignoring the fury blooming on his face, I turned and walked away. 3 I discharged myself that afternoon and went home alone. As I was about to get into the elevator from the underground garage, a hand clamped over my mouth and nose. A sharp, chemical smell filled my lungs, and I blacked out. When I woke up, I was in a sauna. Through the transparent glass wall, a group of spoiled trust-fund kids were watching me with amusement. Luke, his head wrapped in thick gauze, had his arm around Nina’s waist. He was smiling at me. “You said it was karma? Today, I’ll show you what real karma is.” My heart sank. I grabbed my phone to call the police, but the line was dead. The men outside burst into laughter. “Scarlett, are you an idiot? Did you really think we’d let you call for help? We jammed the signal.” “That’s right. How dare you talk back to Luke? Didn’t expect karma to come for you so quickly, did you?” “This is the best-insulated sauna in the city. It can be 100 degrees inside, and you won’t feel a thing out here. Luke said if you don’t behave today, we get to control the temperature!” My blood ran cold. I saw the thermostat: a glaring red 70 degrees Celsius. I stumbled to my feet and pounded on the glass. “Luke, let me out! I just had surgery! I’m weak, I can’t take this heat!” A smug smile played on Luke’s lips. He pulled a blushing Nina closer. He walked to the window, tracing the outline of my pale face on the glass with his fingertip. “Scarlett, it’s been three years. Haven’t you learned your lesson yet?” My thin blouse was already soaked with sweat. The suffocating heat made it hard to breathe. “Luke, it’s been three years. Haven’t you tortured me enough? Have you forgotten what you promised me?” Luke’s expression froze, a flicker of hesitation in his eyes. A long time ago, we’d had a child. But due to long-term malnutrition and overwork, I miscarried. Luke had held me then, crying with a helplessness I’d never seen before. “Scarlett, I’m so sorry. You’ve suffered so much with me. We won’t have kids for now. I promise, when we’re better off, I’ll make you the happiest mother in the world.” Because I was allergic to latex, he’d even gotten a vasectomy. He said he never wanted my body to suffer any harm. And yet, for Nina’s baseless accusation, he had used the one thing I wanted most in the world to destroy me completely. Luke glanced at the locked door, about to take a step. Nina’s eyes welled up with tears. “Luke, just let her out. It all happened three years ago. It was humiliating, but I got over it…” Humiliating? It was just a splash of red wine. And that night, Nina had been wearing a burgundy dress. You couldn’t even see the stain unless you were looking for it. No one even mentioned it. What humiliation? I was about to repeat the explanation I’d given for three years, but Luke’s face contorted with rage. His voice seemed to burn right through the glass. “Strip her! Let’s show her what real humiliation is!” He cupped Nina’s face, gently kissing away her tears. The look he gave me was hard as stone. “Turn the temperature up to 80. Add more water. If she doesn’t admit she’s wrong, turn it up to 90. Don’t let her use being weak as an excuse. I asked the doctor. It won’t kill her.” He held Nina in his arms, watching as if it were a movie as several men entered the sauna to tear off my clothes. I fought desperately, clutching my shirt. “Luke!” I screamed at the window. “Make them stop! This is illegal!” RIIIP. My shirt was torn to shreds. A wave of intense heat and shame washed over me. The men laughingly poured water over the hot stones. Billows of steam filled the small room, clogging my nose and mouth. Sweat poured off me, soaking the floor. I gasped for air, each breath drawing the scorching heat deep into my lungs. The metal necklace I wore felt like a branding iron against my skin. My strength gave out. I collapsed to the floor, on the verge of passing out. One of the trust-fund kids looked worriedly at Luke. “Hey, Luke, I think she’s had enough. We don’t want to actually kill her.” Nina peered through the steam. “Scarlett, just apologize. Otherwise, Luke will lose face.” With my last ounce of strength, I forced a single word from my lips: “Never.” Luke sneered and tossed a card on the table. “One million. Turn it up to 100 degrees. She can come out when she apologizes.” The sudden spike in temperature felt like being thrown into a furnace. My entire body was on fire. I couldn’t breathe. System! I screamed in my head. Where the hell are you? The system’s voice trembled slightly. [I’m here. Right on time.]

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I entered a horror game, but I thought it was an 18+ romance sim. When the cold, aloof pretty boy extended his tentacles, I shyly took one in my hand. “It’s my first time trying this kind of play… Should we maybe start with a kiss?” A faint blush colored the boy’s cheeks as he nodded. But at the final stage, a thick, powerful fishtail coiled around my waist. Trembling, the corrupted final boss leaned down and kissed my lips. “Why are you trying to run away? Weren’t you the one who said you’d love me forever?” Chat: [Hold on, nobody told me you could actually romance the BOSS!] 1 My best friend, Raina, gave me a game called Three Days and Three Nights. The center of the disc’s cover art featured a massive, iridescent fishtail plunging into a boundless ocean. Raina clapped me on the shoulder, her voice filled with passion. “This game is all about the thrill! The suspense! It’s absolutely heart-pounding! I guarantee, once you play it, you’ll never forget it!” Fish… water… three days and three nights… intense. The keywords clicked together in my head, forming a clear picture. This had to be some kind of premium, 18+ spicy romance game! Convinced I understood her hint, I grabbed the disc after work, rushed home, put on my VR headset, and loaded the game. As the progress bar filled, I rubbed my hands together in gleeful anticipation of a beautiful encounter. But then, my vision went black. When I opened my eyes again, I was lying on a soft, massive bed. The salty, briny smell of the sea filled my nostrils. 2 A dim, yellow light emanated from the chandelier above. I scrambled out of bed and rushed to the window, sticking my head out to look around. All I saw was a misty sky and, in the distance, an endless ocean horizon. I was in the ancient castle from the edge of the cover art, gazing out at the sea. This is so realistic, I marveled. Has technology really come this far? Just then, a thick, viscous liquid went drip, drip, drip onto my head. Huh? Is it raining? In the place I couldn’t see, a flood of comments poured into the game’s live stream. [Wow, a kill right at the start! Intense!] [This newbie’s a little slow on the uptake. At least look up. The guy hanging upside down from the floor above is going to die with his eyes open.] [Gotta say, she’s lucky. Such a heavy sleeper she didn’t even hear the door being broken down. Dodged a bullet.] My head felt cool and wet. I instinctively reached up and touched a glob of sticky, crimson slime that was bubbling faintly. The live chat went silent for a moment. I, of course, was completely unaware. I held the slime in my hands, and we stared at each other for a while. Suddenly, it blew a bubble at me. The sea breeze caught it, and the bubble popped, splattering against the furniture. A scorched, black mark instantly appeared on the bedframe. I looked at the highly destructive bubble, then back at the innocent-looking little blob, and my heart soared. “A free pet at the very beginning? This game is so generous!” I joyfully lifted the little blob high in the air. “Come on, sweetie, say ‘Mama’!” The chat exploded: [Wait, if I’m not mistaken, that thing she’s holding is the boss’s… right?] [Yup… can’t say it isn’t. That’s a living GPS tracker. Alright everyone, show’s over. This newbie is toast.] 3 I closed the window and, carrying the sticky slime, went to take a bath. My hair was caked in the red goo, and I couldn’t possibly meet anyone looking like this. Behind me, I thought I heard something fall with a heavy thud, but the roaring crash of the waves outside drowned everything out. The slime couldn’t talk, nor could it say ‘Mama.’ As I wiped the constantly dripping liquid off its body, I realized the little guy was transparent. It had just been coated in some kind of red dye. Once clean, it looked like a wobbly piece of jello. I went into the bathroom. The jello blob stayed outside the shower curtain, blankly blowing bubbles, refusing to come in. I didn’t force it. After my shower, I dried my hair and wrapped myself in a bathrobe. Just as I was about to pick it up for some bonding time, a sharp knock, knock sounded at the door. Is the plot starting? I opened the door to find an exquisitely handsome boy standing there, looking like he wanted to say something. He had pale skin, a tall, slender frame, and milk-blond curls. His eyes were a striking crimson, and a single, perfect beauty mark rested just below his right eye. What is this? A limited edition dream boy? I want to kiss him. Is this my romance target? He’s gorgeous! I was certain of it. I was in love again! With a straight face, I slammed the door shut. [Did she just go take a shower??? Ma’am, are you okay? This is a horror game!] [Ah, the stream’s finally live. This newbie actually has some survival instincts, knows about the classic open-the-door-and-die trap…] [Hahaha, this has to be the first time the boss has ever had a door slammed in his face. Look at him! She’s gonna be torn to pieces!] 4 The moment the door was shut, I fixed my appearance with lightning speed, plucked a dew-kissed rose to hold between my teeth, and reappeared at the entrance. Clenching the rose, I elegantly lifted the hem of my robe, threw the door open, and made my grand entrance. “Good afternoon, my darling. I was wondering if you would be willing to…” My declaration of love was cut short as a thorn on the rose stem pricked my lip. I made a hasty retreat. The chat was filled with a screen of “hahahaha.” [Is she here to be a comedian?] [I’m camping this stream all day. If this girl dies, the entertainment value of this playthrough drops by half.] I hadn’t closed the door, and the boy quietly followed me inside. I’d just removed the rose when I turned around and bumped right into him. In that instant, I knew this was the perfect opportunity to get close and raise my affection points. I closed my eyes and let out a soft moan. “Oh, I feel so faint~” Then, I gracefully collapsed into his arms. The boy froze for a second, then clumsily caught me with seven or eight hands. …Wait. Seven or eight hands? I slowly peeked through one eye. The boy’s crimson eyes were staring right at me, his expression icy. In the dim light, a slick, grayish-blue tentacle slowly extended towards my face. The suckers on it were slowly pulsing, as if alive. 5 [AHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!] [Why are you screaming?! You scared me! How come the new player isn’t screaming? Is she frozen in fear?] [Heehee, I know you guys love to hear players scream. Just doing you a favor.] I stared blankly at the tentacle, my mind reeling. The fanfiction is real. This 18+ game was not kidding around. Interspecies romance is so hot. This is the best day of my life. Tears welled in my eyes. I carefully placed my hand on the tentacle, using it to steady myself as I stood up. “Thank you, my dear,” I said politely. The red-eyed boy’s face was a mask of indifference. He didn’t answer. Below him, more tentacles slithered out, coiling around my ankle and creeping their way up my leg. In a matter of seconds, a tentacle was wrapped tightly around my waist, its grip gradually increasing. My cheeks flushed. I felt that being too forward might seem desperate. So, playing hard to get, I took the tentacle he had used to help me up and brought it to my lips for a dramatic kiss. “It’s my first time trying this kind of play, you know. Should we maybe start with a kiss?” The tentacle’s movements paused. The boy’s crimson eyes widened slightly, and he gave a subconscious nod. So I stood on my tiptoes and pressed my lips to his. “Darling, why aren’t you saying anything? Are you shy?” I took the rose, tied the stem into a loop, and fashioned it into a bracelet, slipping it onto the tentacle I was holding. It was a sincere proposal. “I took one of those personality tests the other day. It said my type is ‘The Adventurer.’ But when I saw you, I knew my real type was you. “I love you. Let’s get married. I promise I’ll be a good wife and a great mother to our kids!” [She’s down bad…] [Just joined the stream, what is this player doing? Proposing? Is she insane? Why isn’t the boss killing her?] [I don’t know, man. The tutorial didn’t cover this.] [BOSS: The tutorial definitely didn’t cover how to deal with sexual harassment…] 6 As if burned by my sudden actions, the boy took a half-step back, his tentacles rapidly retracting. I immediately grabbed one and held on tight. “Don’t go! You know, I’ve never had a husband. But I just adopted a child, so now all I’m missing is a partner.” The boy’s face was still cold, but the tips of his ears were turning red. “A child…? That’s… mine. Give it back.” His reminder made me remember the jello I’d left on the bed. I quickly turned to get it. “Oh, you can talk! You should talk more often, you have such a nice voice. It got itself all dirty playing somewhere, but I already cleaned it up.” I knew it. There was no way I’d be lucky enough to get a free pet. He reached out for it, but I hugged the jello blob tightly, refusing to let go. “You said it’s yours? Did you give birth to it? I don’t believe you. Not unless you make another one for me to see. By the way, darling, are you an octopus? Or maybe a seahorse? But seahorses don’t have tentacles…” The boy was silent. “…” I compromised. “Alright, how about this: I’ll trade you the baby for your name.” “…Kaelan,” he said, his voice cool and clear, though his expression wasn’t as icy as before. “Okay, I’ll call you Kai, then. My name is Mila.” I smiled and pointed at the little blob. “So you’re his dad? Well, he just accepted me as his mom. You know what that makes me, right, darling?” As if on cue, the jello blob grabbed my finger and cooed, “Maa~” Kaelan frowned, looking from me to the blob and back again. I gazed at him expectantly. The blush spread across his pale cheeks, but he just couldn’t bring himself to say the word. So pure. I love it. A deep, resonant bell chimed, and a rustling sound came from all around us. Kaelan’s expression darkened. He straightened up and spoke to me formally. “Dinner will be served downstairs in fifteen minutes. Do not be late.” Hmm? Is this a date event? A candlelight dinner? He’s so smooth! My eyes sparkled. [Are we finally getting to the main storyline?] [Mila really knows how to talk, I need to borrow her mouth! But what was the boss originally going to say?] [Does it matter? Once the boss merges his memories, he’ll become a chaotic psycho who kills everything. People have tried using the jello to raise affection before, but how many players has that gotten killed in this scenario…] 7 Of course, I knew nothing of the players’ discussions. I handed the still-bubbling jello back to Kaelan and watched him leave. The stoic dad and the silly baby disappeared out the door, and for some reason, the sight of their retreating backs made me feel a strange sense of fragility, as if they could shatter at any moment. I closed the door and sat on the edge of the bed. That’s when I noticed a piece of paper on the floor, half-stained with some dark substance. [Dear Traveler, we are delighted you could join us for this three-day, three-night journey. We have prepared a grand welcome banquet for you.] [Please be sure to remember the following: 1. Do not go outside after curfew. 2. Please, remain quiet in the . 3. If you encounter , you may ask the butler for help. Please note, the butler. Hope you have a encounter. Enjoy your stay!] A rule-based romance game? How novel! But the key information was all smudged. This game was a little cruel. Still, if it was a banquet, there would probably be a lot of NPCs, right? I sighed. It seemed I wouldn’t get any alone time with my man… Then I realized this was my chance to shine. I would dress to the nines and completely dazzle him! I rubbed my hands together, sat down at the vanity, slipped into a gorgeous evening gown, and did a quick ten-minute makeup job, transforming myself into a glamorous, dazzling heiress. Just as I finished, my reflection in the mirror suddenly broke into a sweet smile and reached a hand out towards the glass. Outside the mirror, a single tear rolled down my cheek. [Now this is more like a horror game. That stuff before was just ridiculous.] [What happened to Mila? Is she finally scared enough to cry?] [Dying in the simplest mirror-ghost segment would be a new level of pathetic.] [Go get her, mirror-ghost! Teach her a lesson for being so cocky!] I whipped out my phone and quickly snapped a picture of my reflection. “Oh my god, my in-game avatar can smile so beautifully!” I pressed my palm against the hand in the mirror, frantically taking pictures. “Smile again! A goddess has descended!!” My reflection blushed. “O-okay,” it stammered. Holy crap, it has voice-interactive features? I love it even more! I pressed my face against the mirror. [Haha, you celebrated too soon. This girl is so lovesick she can fall in love with her own reflection.] [This is gold. I actually laughed.] [Heehee, I’m gonna try a ‘goddess descending’ pose too~~] [Upstairs commenter, please don’t!!]

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When I caught Julian Vance in bed for the eighth time. I didn’t scream, nor did I make a scene. Just handed the coat to the girl, calmly said: “Leave through the back door of the villa.” The girl looked at me carefully, fled as if escaping. And Julian leaned on the headboard, looking at me, slowly smoked a cigarette: “It’s the little girl’s first time here, not easy, don’t scare her.” “She is different from you, I don’t want her to feel wronged.” “Today is her birthday, I have to accompany her tonight, won’t come back.” I lowered my eyes, only softly responded, didn’t argue much. After all, Julian seems not to know yet. That little girl, is HIV Positive. … Chapter 1 Condoms scattered all over the floor, air still has a faint fishy smell. I put on a mask, opened the window, started to air out the room. Didn’t look at him again. Instead he, blowing smoke rings, looked at me with interest: “Why no divorce trouble today, thought it through?” I turned my back to him, fingers paused on the window sill, then continued to push open the window. “Mm,” my voice very light, “Thought it through.” Julian sneered. “Should have thought it through long ago,” he lazily got up, started dressing, “Families like ours, marriage to the end, playing separately is the norm. Best if you can figure it out, save everyone embarrassment.” I turned around, quietly watched him button his shirt. Four years of marriage, he is still handsome, that cynical carelessness between eyebrows, still can easily make young girls heart move. “Really not coming back tonight?” I asked. “Not coming back.” He fastened his belt, glanced at me, “Why, today is some special day?” I shook my head: “Just asking.” He shrugged, picked up the watch on the bedside table and put it on—Patek Philippe limited edition, my birthday gift to him last year. “Right,” when walking to the door, he suddenly stopped, “Condoms at home not enough, you find time to buy some.” “Okay.” Door closed. I stood by the window for a while longer, until saw his car lights cut through the night, disappear at the end of the tree-lined avenue. Then I picked up the phone, dialed a number. “He left,” I said, “Can start cleaning.” Five minutes later, three people wearing protective suits entered the room. They neatly cleaned up the condoms scattered on the floor, wiped every corner with special disinfectant, removed all sheets and bedding into sealed bags. The leading middle-aged woman nodded to me: “Miss Serena, all handled. You rest assured, won’t leave any infection risk.” “Hard work,” I said, “Especially this bedroom, must disinfect thoroughly.” “Understood.” I exited the room, closed the door. Corridor lights gently spilled on the dark floor, wedding photos hung on the wall. In the photo I wore a wedding dress, smiled shyly and brilliantly, Julian held my waist, looked at me gently. At that time we were intimate, loving extraordinary. But now, there painted with piercing love hearts by different women using lipstick. I was also caused by his lovers, lost two children, hard to conceive again. I calmly looked once, turned and left, then walked down stairs. On the coffee table in the living room sat a cake box. I picked up the included candle, inserted one on the cake, lit it. Julian only remembered today is his little girl’s birthday. But habitually forgot, today is also my and his fourth wedding anniversary. Also my birthday. Flame danced, I stared at that cluster of fire for a long time, then blew it out. Actually originally, I was going to sue for divorce. But now, I don’t want to. I want his inheritance of hundreds of millions. I want all his money and power. Chapter 2 Consecutive five days, Julian didn’t come back. But his little girl seemed to get some tacit permission, punctually sent messages and videos to me. [Sister, he said I am the kind of person he really wants.] [Sister, he said wife like you who only guards home, he long tired of.] [Tonight he not going back again, you sleep alone cold not cold?] I didn’t reply a single one. Just took medicine on time, physical exam on time, sleep on time, then as usual let assistant classify and archive these screenshots. And sixth night, Julian called me. That time I was in Private Clinic, just finished a set of checks, sitting on the bench in the corridor waiting for results. On the phone his voice hoarse, carrying some panting after indulgence. “Serena Sterling,” he called my name, “Recently someone photographed me and Lily. Tomorrow there is an interview, you come to the company, help her clarify.” I silenced for two seconds. “Clarify what?” “Just say all misunderstanding, say she is just student I sponsored, you were also at scene then,” he paused, “You know, she is young, can’t handle these public opinions.” I looked down at the needle mark not yet dispersed on back of my hand. “Okay.” I said. Phone end obviously sighed relief. “Still you sensible,” his tone softened, “Tonight I go back accompany you? Aren’t we also long time no…” “I these two days not convenient,” I lowered eyes, interrupted him, “Period.” Phone end quiet for an instant. “…Fine ba.” He somewhat disappointed, but soon restored that coaxing tone, “Then you sleep early, don’t think wild.” Hung up phone, I looked at the black screen, suddenly wanted to laugh a bit. He thought I was keeping body for him. But didn’t know, I just simply felt dirty. Next day interview, arranged in group building first floor lobby. Media came very complete, long guns short cannons, aimed at us this pair of “Model Couple”. I held Julian’s arm, makeup exquisite, smiled gentle and decent. When asked about those ambiguous rumors, he subconsciously looked at me. I took the microphone for him. “Indeed misunderstanding,” I smiled and said, “Miss Lily is student my husband sponsored, recently health not good, he took care few more times, photographed by people with intention, then rumored like this. Hope everyone don’t over interpret.” Someone below pursued: “Does Mrs. Vance really not mind at all?” I turned head look Julian, eyes full of reliance and trust. “I of course believe him.” That moment, strength he held my wrist, obviously tightened a bit. But interview proceeded half, his phone received a message. Julian’s face, almost instantly changed. He stood up, didn’t even have time to look at me. “Sorry, temporary urgent matter.” He finished this sentence to host, already turned and walked out. I still sat in place, hand holding microphone. Media below a burst of commotion. Someone loudly asked: “Mr. Vance, is it because of Miss Lily? Heard she hospitalized?” His steps paused a bit. Then walked without looking back. I alone, sat in place with brightest lights, cleaned up mess for him, continued to finish acting that “Husband Wife Deep Love” play for him. After dismissal, assistant carefully asked me: “Madam, are you okay?” I stood up, tidied skirt hem, smiled. “Quite good.” Is really quite good. Because I know, he again pushed for me towards finish line, a push. That night, he didn’t come home. Only sent me a message: [She fever severe, I in hospital. You sleep first.] I replied a word: [Good.] Then, I thought thought what, sent another sentence: [My mom health bit not good, I tomorrow want go back hometown a trip, about a month come back.] [Want me accompany you go?] [Not big matter, I go just fine.] [Good.] Finished sending message, I sighed relief, put phone aside, continue flip look that report newly delivered. Above clearly wrote few words. ——Incubation period passed, possess infectivity. Chapter 3 Next morning early, I packed luggage left villa. When car drove out of tree-lined avenue, I looked at that house lived four years from rearview mirror. Morning fog hasn’t dispersed, gray white light caged whole garden. Garden planted full red roses. This was he back then let people air transport from France, just because I said a sentence like. Golden branch jade leaf Old Money Heir, then spent few months accompany me personal hand planted these nine hundred ninety nine roses. That time to achieve max degree beauty, he even rose layout personal stayed up night changed nine versions. I that time still laughed him: “You a big man, how compare me still particular.” He lowered head kissed on my forehead: “That is because this is our home.” Our home. I moved away sight, leaned on seat, closed eyes. Now lovers he brought back emerge endlessly, roses also only me one person still taking care. Our home, long became their home. I didn’t go back hometown, but directly went to a nursing home in suburbs. Doctor already waiting me. “Miss Serena, according to current data, you side no infection sign,” he flipped report, “But for absolute safety, next one month you best all don’t have intimate contact with anyone.” “I understand.” I nodded. “As for Mr. Julian side…” He paused, didn’t finish. “Continue observe just fine.” I finished for him, “Have any result, first time tell me.” I lived into a small building most inside nursing home. Daily life simple and regular, recheck, take medicine, read, walk. Like patiently, waiting a countdown. Seventh night, Julian called me. That was after I left, he first time active contact me. When phone connected, that end very noisy, like in social drinking bureau. “Where at?” He asked, tone bit impatient. “Hometown.” I said very calm. “Why so long not reply message?” He frowned, “I these two days bit uncomfortable, maybe too tired. When you come back?” “Not sure,” I soft voice said, “My mom side still want see again.” He obviously some unhappy, but still suppressed temper: “Fine ba, then you take care yourself.” Before hang up, he added a sentence: “Right, Lily feels better, discharged, little girl in city no others know, I also not good let her always stay hotel, these days I let her move into villa, live is your bedroom, you come back don’t strange, also don’t think too much.” I “Mn” a sound. Of course won’t think much. Because that originally, is place I chose for them. Passed another four days. This time, is his assistant called me. Voice on phone very panic. “Madam, Mr. Vance accident.” My fingers holding phone, slightly tightened. “What happen to him?” “Last night high fever not retreat, this morning sent to hospital, doctor… doctor said situation bit complex, let family as soon as possible go a trip.” I silent two seconds. “Which hospital?” Assistant reported address. Exactly the one Lily lived before. “I know,” I said, “I will rush over ASAP.” Hung up phone, I sat by bed, lowered head looking at that quiet lawn outside window. Sunlight very good. Good not like want happen what bad thing. Doctor knocked door come in. “Miss Serena,” he looked at me, “You want go out?” “Mn.” I stood up, “Go see my husband.” He wish speak again stop, finally only said a sentence: “You yourself pay attention safety.” I smiled, put on mask. “Rest assured.” I cherish life more than anyone. Chapter 4 When car drove into city, my phone lit again. Is message sent by Julian. [Where?] I looked at those two words, passed very long, then replied. [On way.] [I bit uncomfortable.] [Doctor looking.] He probably is really uneasy. Before he sick, always me by bed guarding. Feed water, feed medicine, whole night not sleep. He used to I definitely will be there. And this time, he can only find me across screen. I didn’t reply again. Hospital disinfectant smell very heavy. Assistant waiting me at door, face compare I imagine still ugly. “Madam,” he lowered voice, “Doctor already gave Mr. Vance did preliminary check, suggest… do further special detection.” I nodded: “I know.” Push open ward door time, Julian right lean on bed head infusion. He thin a bit, face color very bad. Seeing me that moment, he obviously stunned a bit, immediately sighed relief. “You came.” That instant, reliance in his eyes, almost instinct. I walked over, put bag aside. “Where uncomfortable?” “Whole body no strength,” he frowned, “Head also pain. Doctor said maybe infection.” He said very casual. Like saying a normal cold. I tucked quilt corner for him, action as always gentle. “Don’t worry,” I soft voice said, “Will be good.” He looked at me, suddenly reached hand, grabbed my wrist. “Serena Sterling,” his voice bit hoarse, “This while… hard work you.” I lowered head, looking at that hand grabbing me. Knuckles slender, once countless times, held me walked through crowd. “We are husband and wife.” I said. He then like put down heart, slowly closed eyes. Not pass long, doctor came in call me out talk. Corridor very long. Before he hand that report to me, looked me one eye. “Miss Serena, result out.” I took over, sight fall on most critical that line words. ——Confirm Infection. I very calm. Calm to, even myself feel bit surprised. “Does he know now?” I asked. “Temporary not yet,” doctor said, “This situation, suggest by family to inform.” I nodded. “I come ba.” Back to ward time, Julian still sleeping. Sunlight outside window fall on his face, quiet and innocent. Like nothing has started yet. I sat by bed, looked him very long. Then, gently called a sound. “Julian Vance.” He opened eyes: “Mn?” I looked at him, tone as always gentle. “Doctor said, you got a not too good disease.” He stunned. “What disease?” I didn’t immediately answer. Just slowly, put that report, in front of him.

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The news spread through the family like cold smoke: Richard Callahan was retiring after he miraculously pulled The Callahan Group back from the brink. The company shares, the very legacy of the Callahan name, were split into four parts: one for each of his sons’ wives, and one for himself. Except for me. I got nothing. “Your company, Clarity Tech, is a massive success, valued at over a hundred million. You don’t need the small shares from The Callahan Group.” Richard said it with a stunning lack of shame. I simply smiled and nodded, saying nothing. That very evening, I called my private attorney. The fifteen million dollars that had resurrected The Callahan Group? I loaned it to them. And it still hadn’t been repaid. My lawyer, Mr. Hollis, sounded cautious. “Calling in the debt now… it will cripple their cash flow. They just stabilized. This could be fatal. They are, after all, your family…” I laughed. “Family? They forfeited that title.” 1 The long dining table gleamed beneath the crystal chandelier in the Callahan estate. The room was packed. Richard Callahan sat at the head, his face flushed—a healthy glow, I knew, bought and paid for by my fifteen million dollars. “Today, we celebrate three great joys!” Richard, my father-in-law, raised his glass, his voice booming as if he hadn’t been on the verge of total financial ruin eighteen months ago. I sat next to my husband, Nate Callahan, my face set in the polite smile I’d practiced a thousand times. On the table, the imported cherries and delicate pastries I’d picked up that afternoon went untouched by me. Nate nudged my elbow under the table, a silent plea for me to perk up. “First joy: The Callahan Group has survived a near-death experience and is back on track!” Richard surveyed the room, his eyes sweeping over me without a flicker of acknowledgment. “Second joy: I, Richard Callahan, am officially retiring today!” Applause erupted. My eldest brother-in-law, Travis, and the second, Brock, clapped loudest. Their wives, Deb and Tess, exchanged a knowing glance that settled like silt in my stomach. My heart began to sink, slow and steady. “And the third joy,” Richard paused, savoring the attention, before pulling four embossed gold share certificates from his briefcase. “Is the future of The Callahan Group.” Deb straightened her spine; Tess couldn’t suppress the upward curve of her lips. Even Zack, the youngest, who had recently returned from London, held his breath. Only my smile remained unchanged, my fingertips ice cold. “Travis, you’ve been with me for thirty years, steady as a rock. Chairman, 35% of the shares. They’re yours.” Travis stood, taking the papers with both hands, his voice trembling with emotion. “Thank you, Dad! I won’t let you down!” “Brock, you’re the sharp one, the innovator. President, 30% of the shares.” Brock’s hands shook as he took the document. “You have my word, Dad.” The third certificate bypassed Nate and went directly to Zack. “Zack, you’re young, but you have fresh, international ideas. Vice President, 25% of the shares. Make me proud.” Zack hesitated, looking at Nate. “Dad, Nate, he…” “Your brother has his own arrangements.” Richard waved a dismissive hand and finally picked up the last document. All eyes, including Nate’s, turned to me. They were waiting for the expected performance. Richard handed the document to Nate. “Nate, this 10% stake will be placed in a family trust. You’ll hold it for the family. Just focus on supporting your brothers, alright?” Nate’s hand froze mid-air as he reached for the paper. All four documents had been distributed. The dining room fell silent for a heartbeat before exploding into forced, cheerful laughter. Travis clapped Nate on the shoulder, talking about “brotherly unity.” Brock raised a toast to “creating a brighter future.” Deb and Tess were already whispering about where they would go for a celebratory spa day. My utensils were untouched. “Dad.” Nate finally spoke, his voice dry as sandpaper. “What about… Quinn?” Richard acted as if he’d just remembered I was there, looking up at me with the placid, indifferent gaze one might give a forgotten houseguest. “Oh, Quinn.” He smiled—a smile that stung my eyes. “Your Clarity Tech is a massive success, valued at over a hundred million. You surely don’t want to bother yourself with The Callahan Group’s small shares. I won’t burden you with it.” He never once mentioned the fifteen million I’d loaned him to save his company, nor the original agreement. His tone was one of absolute entitlement, as if this omission were a thoughtful gesture. Under the table, Nate grabbed my hand, squeezing so hard I thought my bones might shatter. He was silently begging me, pleading with me not to make a scene, not to humiliate him in front of his family. I could feel the gloating eyes of Travis and Brock, and hear Deb’s hushed, cutting whisper: “See? What good is being a hot-shot CEO? She’s still an outsider.” Slowly, I pulled my hand free. I picked up my glass of red wine and stood. I raised the glass to Richard, my smile perfect, measured, and utterly hollow. “Dad is right,” I said. “We have what we need.” I tilted my head back and drained the glass in one go. The sharp bitterness of the red wine exploded on my tongue and burned a trail all the way down to my stomach. “I’m tired. I’ll head home now.” I set the glass down, pulled out my chair, and walked out. No questions, no accusations, not a hint of lost composure. Behind me, I heard the sound of Nate abruptly standing, followed by Richard’s cold, displeased scoff. “What kind of attitude is that!” I didn’t look back. Walking out of the Callahan estate, the late-autumn night air was biting. I pulled my coat tighter and walked toward my car. Nate chased after me, grabbing my arm at the car door. “Quinn! What the hell was that?” His face was flushed, tight with anger. “You’re giving my father that kind of attitude in front of the whole family? He just recovered!” I looked at him, the man I’d loved for seven years, whose face was now etched with accusation. “Let go.” “Can’t you just be understanding for once? Dad just had heart surgery! Can’t you just play along? For the sake of the family—can’t you just suck it up? It’s a tiny bit of stock; we can earn that ourselves!” His words felt like fine needles, pricking my heart. A sudden, bitter amusement filled me. The sake of the family? Whose family? The Callahans’ family? I slowly raised my eyes, my voice clear and precise. “Nate, that fifteen million was due two months ago. I didn’t call it in, thinking we were ‘family.’ Now your father has made it clear that I’m not worthy of being part of this family.” Nate froze, his eyes darting away. “It’s… it’s been overdue for two months? Why didn’t you say anything?” “Because I held onto one last shred of hope for the Callahan name.” I opened the car door. “That hope is now gone.” I slid into the driver’s seat, rolled down the window, and looked at him one last time. “My lawyer will be at The Callahan Group tomorrow at nine AM with an overdue notice. Principal, plus interest. Not a penny less.” I started the engine and drove into the night. In the rearview mirror, Nate’s figure grew smaller until it finally vanished. 2 I didn’t go home. I drove straight to my company headquarters. Only a few emergency lights glowed in the office building at this hour, and my heels clicked a sharp, solitary rhythm on the marble floor. I unlocked the safe in my office. Two files lay inside, side-by-side. The first was the Loan Agreement. Fifteen million dollars, 6.5% annual interest, for eighteen months. Richard Callahan’s signature, with Nate as a witness. The due date was circled in red—two months ago. The second was the Supplemental Agreement. Only one page, with the most critical clause: “Should The Callahan Group successfully recover, Party B (Quinn Callahan) is entitled to acquire no less than 15% equity at a preferential price or equivalent compensation.” Black and white, stamped with the cold gleam of the notary seal. I picked up my phone and called my private attorney, Mr. Hollis. It rang five times before he answered, his voice alert—he was likely working late. “Mr. Hollis.” “Ms. Callahan, what can I do for you at this hour?” “The loan to The Callahan Group is two months overdue.” My voice was jarringly clear in the empty office. “Issue a formal demand letter tomorrow morning. Require full repayment of principal and interest within 24 hours.” Mr. Hollis drew a sharp breath. “Ms. Callahan,” he said cautiously. “Calling in the debt now… it will sever their cash flow. They just stabilized. This could be fatal.” “That is their problem.” I walked to the floor-to-ceiling window. The city lights blazed outside, but I felt utterly cold inside. A long silence followed on the phone. “Ms. Callahan, they are your family. Are you sure you want to—” I cut him off. “Mr. Hollis, I want you to go personally. Bring all the documents, and—bring the evidence that they issued an unauthorized shareholder dividend last month while failing to repay my mature debt.” “Understood.” Mr. Hollis’s voice steadied. “I will be at The Callahan Group at nine AM sharp. How shall I calculate the interest?” “The principal is fifteen million. The normal interest for eighteen months is $1.4625 million. The penalty interest for two months overdue is $162,500.” I recited the pre-calculated numbers. “Total due: $16,625,000. Effective tomorrow, the overdue interest will continue to accrue at a daily rate of 0.05%.” “Very well.” Mr. Hollis paused. “Ms. Callahan, are you okay?” I hesitated. He had been my attorney for seven years, witnessing my journey from start-up founder to marriage and now to this. He was one of the few who knew that $3.4 million of that fifteen million was the money from my mother’s inherited condo. “I’m fine,” I said. “I’ve never been better.” I hung up and stood by the window for a long time. Eighteen months ago, the rain had fallen, matching the anxiety in my heart. It was a Friday. I was on a conference call with investors, discussing Clarity Tech’s Series B funding. Nate called seven times in a row. I had to interrupt the meeting to call him back. “Quinn…” Nate’s voice was shaking. “My father… he’s kneeling in front of me…” When I rushed to the Callahan estate, the living room was silent. Richard was slumped on the sofa, looking utterly defeated. Travis and Brock were on the balcony, smoking, shrouded in a smoky haze. “Suppliers have stopped all deliveries, the bank pulled the credit line, the accounts are frozen,” Nate said, his eyes bloodshot. “Three hundred employees need to be paid next week. Dad says the Callahan family legacy, three generations of work, is about to be ruined in his hands.” I, the “outsider,” was invited to the family meeting that night for the first time. Travis argued for bankruptcy reorganization: “We strip the debt and start fresh.” Brock argued for selling assets: “Liquidate and walk away, at least we’ll keep some money.” They argued furiously while Richard just covered his face, his shoulders trembling. It was 11 PM when everyone else left. Richard invited me into his study alone. The main light was off, only a desk lamp glowed. In the dim, yellow light, the wrinkles on his face looked like deep ravines. “Quinn,” he said, his voice hoarse. “The Callahans… we’re out of options.” He slid a financial statement toward me. I scanned it, my heart sinking: Negative net assets, multiple overdue debts. “How much do you need?” I asked. “At least fifteen million.” Richard looked at me. “The banks won’t lend, all our assets are collateralized. Relatives and friends… I’ve asked everyone.” He suddenly rose to his feet, his knees bending slightly. I shot out of my chair in alarm. “Dad!” “Quinn, I’m begging you.” Richard didn’t fully kneel, but he bowed deeply. “Save The Callahan Group, save the family. If you do this, forever… The Callahan Group will belong to you and Nate.” He sounded sincere, his eyes red-rimmed. I was silent for a long time. “I need to discuss this with my partners,” I finally said. “Clarity Tech is in a critical funding stage. Selling my personal shares will affect the company’s valuation.” “I know… I know this is a huge ask,” Richard said, taking a draft agreement from his drawer. “Look, I wrote a supplemental clause: Once The Callahan Group recovers, you can buy in at net asset value, no less than 15% equity. I will not shortchange you.” I didn’t sleep that night. I spent three hours on the phone with my partners. One of them sighed heavily in the end. “Quinn, the semiconductor industry is booming. Liquidating your shares now means you’re losing at least double the profit potential. And… family businesses are a dark, deep pit.” “I know,” I said, watching the first light of dawn creep across the window. “But I can’t watch Nate’s father die.” I sold a portion of my personal Clarity Tech stock, liquidating twelve million dollars. Then, I sold the last property my mother left me—a small two-bedroom condo in the old town. Before she died, she held my hand and said, “Quinn, don’t ever sell this. Rent it out for your cushion. Never let anyone compromise you.” The condo sold for three million. The day I put together the fifteen million, I insisted Richard sign the formal agreement. Not distrust, but business practice. He signed readily and even called in a notary. Three weeks after the money hit his account, I felt uneasy and had my CFO quietly check The Callahan Group’s books. The result was chilling. Within a week of receiving the life-saving fifteen million, there were two abnormal expenditures: $600,000 transferred to an overseas account, memo: “Tuition Fees”—Travis’s son’s college account. Another $800,000 paid to a luxury dealership—Brock bought a new Range Rover. I placed the statement in front of Richard. His face changed, and he sighed. “Quinn, your brothers… they haven’t had a good life for years. I promise, just this once. It won’t happen again.” I didn’t press the matter. Two months ago, the loan matured. I called Richard. He chuckled over the phone. “Quinn, I’m a little tight right now. Give me a few more days. Family shouldn’t rush these things.” I said, “Okay, Dad. Let me know when it’s convenient.” One month ago, Nate mentioned it. “Dad says he’ll pay next month.” I didn’t push. A week ago, The Callahan Group suddenly issued a dividend. The brothers were ecstatic. I thought: Once Dad settles down, he’ll surely bring up the equity. I gave them two months. They used those two months to show me what oblivion and ingratitude looked like. After finalizing the details with Mr. Hollis, the sky was already turning a pale gray. My phone vibrated. A text from Nate. “Quinn, Dad is in the hospital. He had chest pains after you left last night. Can we talk?” I didn’t reply. I walked into the restroom and splashed cold water on my face. The woman in the mirror had bloodshot eyes, but her gaze was fiercely bright. At nine AM sharp, I texted Mr. Hollis: “Go.” 3 Nine-ten AM, The Callahan Group CEO’s office. Travis Callahan had just brewed a cup of tea when his secretary burst in, flustered. “Mr. Callahan! Mr. Hollis is here!” Mr. Hollis, dressed in a sharp suit, accompanied by an assistant, walked into the conference room. Travis was still holding his teacup. “Mr. Callahan, good morning.” Mr. Hollis nodded, then pulled out the documents. “As counsel for Ms. Quinn Callahan, I am formally notifying you that the loan principal is two months overdue. This is the Demand Letter. Please sign here to acknowledge receipt.”

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The day my biological parents, the titans of industry who had lost me at birth, finally found me, I was already pregnant. And I had absolutely no idea who the father of the child in my belly was. They were instantly consumed by a furious shame, declaring that the bastard child had to be aborted. The Dawson family name would not be tarnished by such a scandal. Hearing this, a wild, ecstatic joy surged through me. So my family was that powerful. Powerful enough to casually dismiss the bloodline of the undisputed king of New York’s elite, Alexander Sterling himself. This was… this was perfect. 01 “Monica, hurry and get your sister a glass of water.” “And remember, from now on, you two are sisters. You must be as close as can be, treat each other well, and never let any discord between you become a source of gossip for outsiders.” My mother clutched my hand tightly, her voice heavy with meaning as she instructed the young woman beside me—the one who had been raised in my place. Monica immediately agreed, her face a perfect mask of obedience. My father and brother watched the scene of sisterly affection unfold, nodding in satisfaction. She padded over to the refrigerator, poured a glass of ice water, and carefully presented it to me. “Here you are, sister.” The moment my fingertips brushed against the frigid glass, I recoiled as if burned, a flash of embarrassment on my face. “I’m sorry, Monica… I’m pregnant. I can’t drink anything cold right now.” The smile on Monica’s face froze. Her eyes darted to my stomach with a strange, calculating look. In an instant, the air in the opulent living room seemed to die. My mother’s hand, which had been holding mine with such warmth, snatched away as if she’d touched a viper. A hollow sense of loss I couldn’t quite name began to spread from the pit of my stomach. 02 “You’re… married?” “No.” “Do you have a boyfriend, then?” “No.” “You only just graduated from high school.” “Yes.” “Then who,” my mother’s voice was dangerously low, “is the father?” “I… I don’t know.” 03 After that interrogation, a long, suffocating silence descended. The atmosphere was so heavy with judgment it made me shrink in on myself. Gone was the warmth and passion they’d shown when they first found me. Now, the gazes of my father, my mother, and my brother were like daggers, pinning me to the velvet couch. Only Monica seemed at ease, sitting quietly to the side, idly examining her own perfectly manicured nails. I found myself mesmerized by the simple, graceful movement. After a moment, I subconsciously began to mimic her, twisting my own fingers together. The small act calmed my nerves. I was so focused, I didn’t notice the storm clouds gathering on my family’s faces, their expressions turning darker by the second. Finally, my father broke the silence. His face was a mask of cold fury. “What in God’s name is that supposed to mean?” 04 My mind instantly conjured his image. Aloof and cool, a man of few words but overwhelming intensity… I only knew his first name was Alexander. I had no idea what his last name was. Our meeting, as he put it, was a complete accident. But in my eyes, it was the perfect, cliché, romantic encounter between a bartender and a billionaire. I’d been working a shift at a high-end club in Miami when he, exquisitely handsome and dead drunk, had collapsed into my arms. His hands had begun to wander, lighting fires everywhere they touched. I hadn’t been able to resist. I’d dragged him into the nearest private restroom. I assumed after that one night… we would go our separate ways. But he became a ghost. He started appearing again and again. On my walk home from work. Inside my tiny apartment. In places I never expected. Each time, he would leave his wild, possessive marks all over my body. At first, I was lost in the thrill of it. But soon, I grew afraid. I started trying to avoid him, to hide from him. But he always found me, effortlessly. He would grip my chin, his eyes burning into mine. “Why do you run?” “Aren’t you tired of me yet?” I’d whisper, trembling. He would just laugh, a cold, humorless sound, before pinning me beneath him once more. Thankfully, after a couple of weeks, he finally disappeared. I celebrated for days. I wasn’t an idiot. I had seen his Rolls-Royce, his Bentley, and a garage full of supercars whose names I didn’t even know. One of them, I think, was a Bugatti. His whole demeanor, the quiet confidence that radiated from him, screamed of a world of wealth and power I couldn’t even imagine. A man like that was never meant for someone like me. I had been lucky enough to enjoy his beautiful body for a short time. I was content with that. He’d never given me a dime, so what else was there to do? But then… I found out I was pregnant. I’ll admit, for a fleeting moment, I considered keeping the baby. Boy or girl, I knew my child would be beautiful. How could it not be, with a father that handsome? But I quickly crushed that ridiculous fantasy. This child couldn’t be born. The grandmother who had raised me was gone. How could a single mother with no family and a baby in tow ever hope to find a good husband? My life was just beginning; I didn’t want to make it a struggle. But the thought of his commanding presence, his chilling intensity, his raw, primal nature… it terrified me. What if he found out I’d gotten rid of his child without his permission? The consequences were unimaginable. I was trapped. Finally, mustering every ounce of courage I possessed, I sent him a text. I’m pregnant. Since I couldn’t decide, I would leave the choice to him. Whatever he decided, the blame wouldn’t be on me. Three days passed. He never replied. I cursed him a thousand times in my head. What a classic, heartless bastard. In a fit of anger, I blocked his number and all his social media accounts. A part of me regretted it, but it felt good to have the last word. Just as I was steeling myself to go to the clinic alone, my millionaire parents found me. They told me I was their long-lost daughter. It felt like a miracle. I imagined a new life, a better life. Which brought me to the scene in the living room. I had never intended to hide the pregnancy. When I saw the Mercedes they picked me up in, the magnificent mansion they called home, I knew the Dawsons had to be wealthy. If Alexander ever came looking for me after the abortion, I figured my new powerful family could protect me. 05 I glanced nervously at my father’s stony face, preparing to tell them everything. “Dad, I only know his first name is Alexander.” She doesn’t even know his full name? The disgust in their eyes was a physical blow. I hung my head in shame, my hands twisting in my lap. My mother took a deep, steadying breath. “What do you want to do?” I looked up, my voice urgent. “I want to get rid of it.” The tension in the room instantly evaporated. My father, mother, and brother all let out a collective, relieved sigh. “But…” I began hesitantly. My brother, Mark, cut in impatiently. “But what?” “He’s… he’s a very scary person,” I stammered. “I’m afraid…” Mark cut me off with a scornful laugh. “You grew up in some backwater town. What kind of ‘scary’ person could you possibly have met there?” My mother added proudly, “You’ve just returned, so you don’t understand our family’s standing. Here in New York, aside from a few of the old-money dynasties, there’s no one we need to fear. As long as we have the Sterlings on our side, we’re untouchable.” “Sterling… wait, his last name couldn’t be…” she started, then glanced at me and laughed at her own foolishness. A girl from the sticks and the heir to the Sterling empire? The idea was absurd. I felt their disdain, but it didn’t sting as much as it should have. I was used to it. Growing up, besides my grandmother, no one had ever looked out for me. No one respected me. As long as this new family, for the sake of their reputation, didn’t openly abuse me and gave me some spending money, it was already a thousand times better than my old life. Finally, my father made the decision. “In three days, Mark will take you to the clinic.” “You carry our family’s blood. To be found pregnant out of wedlock right after we bring you home… if word got out, it would be an utter disgrace.” I nodded. “Can’t we go tomorrow?” My father turned away, refusing to even look at me. “We have a major family event in the coming days. You’ll be attending. You’ll understand when you get there.” “Okay, Dad.” A little flutter of excitement went through me. Three more days wouldn’t make a difference. 06 “Mark, how many cars do we have?” I asked, stroking the sleek lines of the sports car in the driveway, my eyes wide with wonder. My brother preened under my admiration. “This one’s mine. A Porsche 718. Cool, right?” “Mom doesn’t like to drive. Dad has a Maybach, and Monica drives a Porsche Panamera. All together, they’re worth a few million.” I put on my most impressed face. “Wow, we’re so rich!” Mark was pleased. “You know, you’ve been behaving yourself these past couple of days. If it weren’t for…” His eyes flickered down to my stomach, and his voice went cold. “Look, when Monica gets tired of her car and wants a new one, I’ll have her give you her old one. You’re my sister, after all. Can’t have you embarrassing me when you go out.” My heart leaped. “Thank you, Mark! You’re the best!” But deep down, a seed of unease was planted. I remembered Alexander’s garage. It seemed… infinitely more impressive than my entire family’s collection combined. Stop it. Don’t think about that deadbeat. Once this baby is gone and I’ve recovered, I just need to be quiet, stay out of the way, and be grateful for the scraps they throw me. It’s better than anything I had before. As for Alexander… he was a world away in Miami. What were the chances he’d ever find me here in New York? Even if his family was richer than mine, what could he do from so far away? 07 Three days later. I was dressed in one of Monica’s old gowns, riding in her white Panamera, on our way to the five-star hotel owned by our family. Monica was breathtaking. A vibrant red couture gown, flawless makeup—she was the center of attention everywhere she went. I, standing beside her, was nothing more than a plain, forgettable shadow. “Honestly, sister, you shouldn’t even be here,” she said, her voice a low murmur. “I’m worried you’ll get nervous and make a fool of yourself. That would be a huge embarrassment for our family.” “But the news that the Dawsons found their real daughter is already out, so you have to make an appearance.” “Just remember,” she instructed, “all you have to do is smile and say as little as possible. The less you say, the fewer mistakes you’ll make. Understand?” I nodded eagerly. “Don’t worry, Monica. I’ll do exactly as you say.” Monica gave me a small, dismissive smile. She was quite pleased with the situation. She had been preparing all sorts of schemes to deal with me, the so-called ‘true heiress,’ but it turned out I had done all the work for her. Showing up pregnant by some nameless man had already destroyed my reputation with our parents. She didn’t have to lift a finger. Yesterday, our parents had assured her that I wouldn’t see a single penny of the Dawson fortune. They would support me for a few years to save face, then marry me off to a suitable business partner with a modest dowry. My return was actually a benefit to her. There was no need to be cruel. What was my name again? Oh, right. Nina. Monica continued to brief me on party etiquette, and I listened intently, trying to memorize every detail. 08 It wasn’t until we arrived that I understood the magnitude of the event. It was the engagement party for the heirs of the two most powerful families in New York. The kind of event that would dominate the society pages for weeks. And it was being held at our hotel. No wonder my father had postponed my trip to the clinic. The entire family had been working around the clock to prepare. As the car pulled up, I stared at the grand, imposing building and sighed. Nina, Nina, you really have the worst luck. To be born into all this and still manage to get lost. I told myself. Now, what wasn’t yours to begin with, you can’t have. Just save up some money, find a nice, normal guy to marry, and build a quiet life. That’s your path. With that thought, I felt a sense of peace settle over me. I consciously lowered my gaze and walked half a step behind Monica. Seeing this, Monica’s red lips curved into a satisfied smile. “Sister, I’ll wire you fifty thousand dollars later. After your procedure tomorrow, buy yourself something nice to help you recover.” “I also have a small apartment in the city. You can have it,” she added generously. “It can be overwhelming at home. If you need some peace and quiet, you can move in anytime.” A genuine, surprised smile bloomed on my face. “Monica, you’re so good to me! It’s a deal!” She seemed even more pleased with my easy compliance.

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Life has entered a countdown, and I’ve started to rot. Giving up the hustle and bustle of the big city, I returned to a small town. I heard from a neighbor that the local police handle a wide range of business. Neighbors can go to them for anything, including collecting bodies and arranging burials. I’m afraid one day I’ll fall asleep and never wake up, and no one will arrange my funeral. Unexpectedly, I went to the police station. And saw my ex-boyfriend who I broke up with six years ago. When enemies meet, their eyes turn red. He didn’t give me a good face and told me to get out. I had no way out, so I could only bite the bullet: “I can’t get out for the time being, can you wait a little longer?” With him around. It will be lively after I die. After all, he said it. The day I get my retribution and die, he will buy fireworks to celebrate. 1 The first day I returned to my hometown. I busied myself tidying up the house. Then I lay in bed waiting for death. Suddenly, a neighbor lady knocked on the door. She brought me homemade pastries. And enthusiastically told me: “Young lady, you are at home alone. If you encounter any trouble, go to the police station at the corner of the street.” “After all, you are a young girl at home, you need to pay more attention to safety. I have Officer Miller’s WeChat. Why don’t you add him? If something happens, you can contact him.” “And you should be about the same age as him. Maybe you can make a good match.” Aunt Zhou covered her mouth and teased. It doesn’t matter if it’s a match or not. Anyway, I only have the last month to live. Don’t delay others. Now I just hope to have someone to help me handle my funeral. After thinking about it, I think this proposal is feasible. Maybe there will be a place to rely on this police officer in the future. Aunt Zhou quickly pushed Officer Miller’s WeChat over. His WeChat profile picture is a girl with her back to the light. Still talking about making a good match. Maybe he already has a girl he likes. I applied to add friends. Soon, the other party sent a question mark. Are police officers so cold nowadays? Looking again, I noticed that I forgot to enter the verification information. I re-entered: “Hello, I’m Chloe Jiang, a resident who just moved back to the small town.” Now, he should agree. However, this time he didn’t reply again. Until the evening, when I almost forgot about this matter. He suddenly said: “What crazy are you sending?” 2 I was stunned. Why did he scold me? I found Aunt Zhou. Confirmed again and again, only to be sure that I didn’t add the wrong person. “Auntie, does this police officer have a bad temper?” “How is it possible? Officer Miller is cold-faced but kind-hearted. When we encounter things, he actively helps.” That’s strange. I didn’t provoke him, why scold me? I patiently explained the reason for adding him as a friend. But he still didn’t reply for a long time. Aunt Zhou gave a solution, “It’s okay, I’m free tomorrow, I’ll take you to get familiar with them. It will be convenient to ask them for help in the future.” The sky darkened. My body can’t stand staying up late. After sincerely thanking her. I went back to wash and rest. But lying in bed, I couldn’t sleep no matter what. My muddled brain was a little confused. The room I live in now is the one I lived in when I was a child. I didn’t tidy up other rooms. Especially Grandma’s room. I couldn’t sleep, tossing and turning in bed. Suddenly, my nose felt a little hot. Reached out and touched it. My finger was stained with sticky blood. I was completely awake at once. By the moonlight coming through the window. I covered my still bleeding nose and struggled to turn over and sit up. I fumbled to the bathroom. Turned on the light only to find that my pajamas had been stained with blood. I familiarly dealt with the bleeding nose. Brain was dizzy for a while. I held onto the washbasin firmly, looking at myself in the mirror. Scattered long hair messily stuck to my face. Face was pale and bloodless. When the dizziness faded, I began to clean up the blood stains on my body. Fortunately, I chose to return to my hometown. Otherwise, if the patients in the hospital saw me like this, they would feel distressed again. They always said that I was young and it was unfair for God to let me get this disease. Subconsciously, they would feel sorry for me and take care of me. I like getting along with them. But I can’t stand the person who was smiling with me the day before. The next day, only a gray cold name remains. So I chose to come back. My head hurt badly, and I couldn’t sleep lying in bed, so I walked to the balcony. Unexpectedly, I saw Aunt Zhou, who went out for a walk after dinner, being sent back limping. I subconsciously wanted to call her. And the man supporting her impressively raised his head. There was a bright street lamp by the road. The light was dazzling. I don’t know if something was wrong with my eyes. I couldn’t see his face clearly. 3 I rubbed my eyes fiercely. He was still standing there. Just in his eyes, perhaps there was disgust and indifference. I shook for a moment. I think, maybe my illness is serious again. I actually saw Lucas Miller. The way he looked at me was just like when we broke up six years ago. With hatred and unwillingness. That day should have been his happiest time. Because he received the admission notice from the National Defense University. He happily came to share the joy with me, but I interrupted his happiness and cruelly said: “Let’s break up.” He was stunned and said in disbelief: “What did you say?” “I said, let’s break up, I’m tired of it, I don’t want to be with you anymore.” He gritted his teeth, his voice trembling: “Chloe Jiang, are you playing for real?” That day, we made it very ugly. Said a lot of heartbreaking words to each other. He is just like now. Looking at my eyes, wishing he could strangle me to death. Reacting over, I realized. The person standing downstairs is really him. Hot sweat emerged from my back. Don’t know why, I felt a little guilty. Fortunately, he didn’t stand long before leaving. I immediately breathed a sigh of relief. My legs were weak. In these six years. I have imagined countless times what it would be like when we meet again. Only didn’t expect it would be like this. 4 The next day, the enthusiastic Aunt Zhou took me to the police station at the corner of the street. She introduced the policemen working here to me one by one. When her eyes stopped on the tall man wearing a blue police uniform. I paused. “Little Jiang, this is Officer Miller I mentioned to you. He is responsible for our area. You can find him if you have anything in the future.” Lucas looked cold and his eyes were unwavering. It was like, it was the first time meeting me. I held out my hand and greeted him, “Hello, Officer Miller.” He looked indifferent, as if saying: What are you pretending. He stood in place, no action. I felt slightly embarrassed and withdrew my hand. Fortunately, Aunt Zhou was coordinating nearby. She mentioned adding friends. Lucas reluctantly took out his mobile phone, but his voice was cold to the extreme, “When you look for me, you’d better have something.” I know. He meant for me not to annoy him like before. I nodded and said sincerely: “Don’t worry, I will only find you when I am about to die.” Otherwise, no one will handle my funeral. Lucas’s fingertips paused slightly, and his eyes were fierce. “Better be like that.” 5 His eyes were like a sharp sword, stabbing me. Didn’t expect that after six years, he still hated me so much. Good, with him around. I’m relieved. After all, he once said. When the day comes that I get my retribution and die, he will set off fireworks to celebrate. In that way, when I leave, it won’t be lonely.

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Four years after my death, my grandmother dug out my old phone and called Sarah Miller. Sarah: “It’s been four whole years, and you finally remembered to call me?” “What, did those sugar mommas run out of money? If you’re broke, go find a few more to sell yourself to. Don’t play pitiful with me.” “I’m telling you, I don’t want to see you for a single second, even if I die!” Grandma on this end of the phone was a bit stunned, her hunched back looking exceptionally lonely. She held the phone and asked cautiously: “Sarah, did you and Liam fight? I can’t find Liam.” After speaking, Grandma’s cloudy eyes looked at the empty room. She murmured as if remembering something: “Right, Liam died, he’s gone. Why did I forget again…” 1 Perhaps because I was worried about Grandma, I stayed by her side after I died. Unfortunately, Grandma had Alzheimer’s and often forgot that I was dead. This time she had another episode, running to the park alone and forgetting the way home. The stubborn little old lady sat on the bench, muttering: “It doesn’t matter if I can’t find the way. When Liam finds out I’m not home, he’ll definitely come out to find me.” My soul guarded Grandma’s side. Even though she wasn’t far from home, because she couldn’t hear me, I couldn’t guide her in the right direction. Seeing the sun about to set, as a soul, I started jumping up and down anxiously. An old lady nearing eighty, if she didn’t go home in time and spent the night alone in the park, she definitely wouldn’t make it. Fortunately, Grandma seemed to realize this too. Seeing the people around her becoming scarcer, she finally stood up. She stepped forward, grabbed a person and asked: “Have you seen my grandson Liam?” I knew that as long as Grandma asked someone, and the other party talked a bit more, they would understand Grandma’s situation and most likely take her to the police station. Once at the police station, Grandma could go home safely. Unfortunately, Grandma asked the wrong person. Because the person she grabbed was Sarah Miller. Sarah looked at Grandma, a hint of impatience in her tone: “Where did Liam go? Why are you here alone?” “It’s so late and he left an old lady like you alone in the park. He must be with…” 2 She didn’t say the last few words, perhaps out of respect for Grandma. But I knew what she meant. She wanted to say, he must be messing around with some wild woman again. See, even though I’ve been dead for four years, this woman hasn’t reduced her disgust for me at all. Grandma didn’t understand her meaning. Seeing Sarah, she was actually very happy. “Sarah, you haven’t been to my house for dinner in a long time. Don’t you like the dumplings Grandma makes the most? Tomorrow is your birthday, come to my house for dumplings.” “You young people should date properly. Liam is good in everything, just likes to hold things in.” “When Liam went out today, he said he was going to buy you a birthday present to give you a surprise tomorrow.” So Grandma’s memory was stuck on this day. At that time, we were still very much in love, inseparable like all couples passionately in love. And her childhood sweetheart hadn’t appeared yet. What a pity. Hearing this, Sarah’s mouth twitched into a sneer: “Grandma, this isn’t funny.” “Liam and I have already broken up.” “You said he went out to buy me a birthday present, I’m afraid he’s buying a birthday present for another woman.” Grandma was stunned: “You broke up? But Liam never told me.” “Sarah, don’t be angry. When Liam comes back, I’ll teach him a lesson!” The little old lady looked adorable when angry. I wanted to hug her and tell her not to be angry, but my body passed through Grandma’s body. It’s been four years, and I still haven’t gotten used to being just a soul. 3 Sarah laughed even harder. Obviously, she didn’t believe Grandma. “I said, we really broke up.” “If these are tricks Liam taught you, I’ll forgive it once.” “Please don’t mention his name in front of me again.” Just then, two ladies from the same neighborhood walked over and looked surprised to see Grandma. “Ma’am, it’s so late, why haven’t you gone back yet? Did you forget where you live again?” After speaking, she clicked her tongue and sighed to the other lady: “Speaking of which, this old lady is pitiful too. She depended on her grandson for survival. Who knew her grandson died four years ago, leaving just this old lady.” Yes, I died four years ago. I remember that birthday four years ago. I went out to buy her a gift full of joy, but saw her walking in pairs with another man in the mall. After walking out despondently, I received a private message from a stranger on social media. Opening it, there was a selfie of a man in a white shirt lying on messy white sheets in a hotel. Beside him, there was an exquisite and conspicuous brooch. Besides the photo, there was a sentence attached: They say childhood sweethearts can’t beat fate. Do you think I, this childhood sweetheart, can beat it? I recognized the brooch; it was the birthday gift I gave her. The reason I remembered so clearly was that although the brooch wasn’t very expensive, I handled everything from design to inlay myself. Sarah never disliked it and wore it even to major meetings. She said that was the symbol of our love. But now, this symbol appeared casually on another man’s bed. Only then did I know that love could be so cheap. 4 Hearing the ladies’ words, Sarah froze all over. Various emotions flashed across her face one after another. Finally, she asked in disbelief: “What did you say? Liam died?” “You’re lying to me, right? Liam must have told you to say this.” “This man is best at sweet talk.” The two ladies were quite shocked, supporting Grandma while muttering: “Who is this? Is she crazy?” “Exactly, who dares to lie about death? Isn’t that cursing people?” Grandma also seemed to remember at this time. She opened her mouth, lips trembling, and finally said: “Yes, Liam… Liam is gone…” Sarah stood there dumbfounded, looking somewhat ridiculous. And my wandering soul followed the two ladies supporting Grandma and floated back home together. I even rejoiced the moment Grandma entered the house, lucky Sarah didn’t follow. Perhaps because remembering my death, Grandma was very sad. The lonely little old lady sat on the sofa, her thin hands stroking my photo, weeping secretly. “Tell me, you boy, so young, why did you leave before Grandma?” I floated over to wipe her tears but missed, so I could only cry and comfort: “Grandma, Liam didn’t leave, Liam is right here.” Unfortunately, Grandma couldn’t hear. The doorbell rang at this time, followed by Sarah’s voice: “Grandma open the door, it’s me, I’m Sarah Miller.” I was shocked. No, can’t open the door for her. If she comes in and finds my old things… 5 I dared not think about the consequences. Grandma was a bit slow. Hearing the doorbell and the call, she turned her head slowly. She seemed to be thinking. Sarah’s voice came from outside the door again: “Grandma, just let me in.” “Liam, I calmed down and thought about it. How could you die? You just want to trick me into coming over.” “I’m here now, what are you pretending for? Open the door!” She banged on the door while pressing the doorbell violently. I was very angry. Her shouting like this would scare Grandma. She wasn’t like this before. Whether to me or Grandma, she would only speak softly, afraid of being too harsh. But now, besides ringing the doorbell, she had started pounding on the door. I was somewhat resentful and rushed to the door to warn her. As a soul, I passed directly through the door. Even if I was fuming, I could only pass through lightly. Because I couldn’t teach Sarah a lesson, I was a bit angry, and finally even cried out of anger. But I was just a soul, and even crying wasn’t as satisfying as before. I shouted angrily: “Yes, I am lying to you. Leave, hurry up and leave, best never come again in this life.” Just as I was losing my temper, a clatter came from inside the house. Afraid something happened to Grandma, I hurried back in. Fortunately, Grandma was sitting safely on the chair, only the photo frame in her hand fell on the floor. Grandma seemed to have just woken up, looking at the photo frame on the floor, bending over to pick it up. Then she held it in her hand, wiping my photo again and again. “Got dirty. Liam liked this photo the most. Luckily it didn’t break.” Yes, this was my favorite photo once. Because this photo was taken for me by Sarah Miller. Actually, I wanted to tell Grandma that this photo is no longer my favorite. My favorite is the photo of you and me by your hand.

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My fiancé broke off our engagement publicly, right in the middle of my grandmother’s birthday gala, because he’d fallen for the cleaning lady. “You’re a socialite, Penny, but that doesn’t make you better than anyone,” he declared. “I love Holly’s pure and gentle soul.” My grandfather, who’d been an occult consultant and geomancy master his whole life, was so enraged he threatened to exhume the Croft family’s ancestral grave plot. The next day, the patriarch of the Croft dynasty arrived with his six other grandsons in tow. He was there to apologize. “My dear girl,” the old man said, sweeping a hand toward the line of impressive young men. “You may choose any one of them. The one you pick will be the next CEO and heir to the Croft legacy.” — 1 “I am here today to break my engagement with Penelope Albright.” Harrison “Harry” Croft stood ramrod straight in a seven-figure bespoke suit, his hand firmly clutching that of a girl in a simple, pressed cleaning uniform. He bellowed the declaration, letting it echo across the ballroom where all the city’s elite had gathered to celebrate my grandmother’s eightieth birthday. The silence that followed was so thick, you could have sliced it with a butter knife. Every guest invited to pay their respects was now gawking at us. “You insolent fool!” My grandfather slammed his palm on the marble table, sending a fine porcelain teacup flying toward Harry. The trajectory was both distant and impeccably aimed. Harry instantly yanked the cleaner girl, Holly Davies, into his embrace and spun them around, taking the brunt of the flying teacup on his tailored back. He shielded her completely, a dramatic gesture of protection. I wanted to point out that the cup would never have hit her in the first place, but he was already turning back. He raised their clasped hands high. “I want everyone here to know, openly and honestly, that the woman I love is Holly Davies,” he announced. “Though Holly comes from humble beginnings, she is not beneath any of us. She is kind, optimistic, and strong. In my heart, she is ten thousand times better than Penelope Albright.” “You… you…” Grandpa was choking on his own fury, his face turning a dangerous shade of crimson. I patted his arm, steadying him, and glared at Harry. “Adultery and homewrecking. Is that what you call ‘honorable’?” Harry looked back at me without a hint of shame, delivering the line that cemented his place as a villain in my personal mythology. “Penny, the person who isn’t loved is the real outsider. Holly is a truly good person, and I won’t let you use that word to defile her.” The girl, Holly, took a step forward, aligning herself with Harry. She puffed out her chest, looking strangely empowered as she addressed me. “Miss Albright, I never intended to ruin a relationship. But Harry doesn’t love you. Even if you hold onto a one-sided arrangement, there is no real love between you two.” Her tone shifted to one of false sincerity. “It’s sad to be used as a tool for a corporate merger. Everyone deserves to be whole and have dignity. I believe that when you find your true happiness, you’ll actually be thankful that Harry and I took this step first.” I was stunned by their audacity. Dignity? They were lecturing me on dignity while standing there in a cheating tableau at my grandmother’s party? “Holly’s right,” Harry interjected. “Even if you married me, I wouldn’t love you. Since you come from a privileged family, enjoying more resources and a better education than most, you should focus on something meaningful—not obsessing over men and calling others ‘home-wreckers.’” I felt the sudden, desperate urge to ask my father if we still had that antique cavalry saber tucked away somewhere in the armory. “Get them out! Throw them out!” Grandpa, all eighty-plus years of him, grabbed a dining chair, ready to charge them himself. My father and uncle managed to restrain him—Grandma’s birthday was decidedly not the time for physical altercations. Finally subdued, Grandpa glowered at Harry. “Mr. Croft’s son, we accept your cancellation of the engagement. As for the matter of disrupting this celebration, I will settle that with your elders!” “There’s no need to use my family to threaten me,” Harry said, arrogant to the last. “The Crofts are the wealthiest family in the state. Anyone marrying in is getting a major upgrade. I am my grandfather’s hand-picked successor. He won’t turn on me for a Wells.” With that, Harry and Holly sauntered out, heads held high. My entire family was incandescent with rage. The remaining guests started whispering. Some even looked at me openly, with a mix of pity and thinly veiled schadenfreude. Grandpa let out a loud, contemptuous “Psh.” He then addressed the room: “Those of you who came only for the Crofts’ sake may leave now.” Faces immediately flushed with awkwardness. Soon, the once-crowded ballroom began to empty. Our family isn’t one of the truly top-tier dynasties; many of the prominent attendees were indeed here to curry favor with the Crofts. The atmosphere now felt like a sudden, humiliating end to a glorious run. Grandpa spat a silent “Psh” in the direction of the departing crowd. 2 Few people knew that the Albright family was, at its core, a lineage of metaphysical masters. Our legitimate businesses were mostly fronts; studying the threads of destiny and manipulating fate required discretion. Those who chose to stay for the sake of an aging matriarch, rather than running after the Crofts, would certainly be remembered by the Wells family. The next morning, Grandma was already orchestrating revenge. She ordered the groundskeepers to water the Croft Group’s corporate ‘four-leaf clover’ with boling water and to secretly steal the prized koi from their reflection pond. Grandpa was in the living room, calculating an auspicious day for maximum disaster, muttering darkly about exhuming the Croft’s ancestral plot. “To provoke a master of fate under his own roof! The Crofts’ luck is officially finished!” he spat, his mustache bristling. “Grandpa, digging up graves is terrible karma,” I intervened. “Maybe just make a voodoo doll of Harry? Something simple, like chronic itching, temporary impotence, and a few broken limbs? That should suffice.” Grandpa’s hand, holding the abacus, trembled. “Daughter,” he decided, looking weary. “Maybe we should just stick to the grave digging.” “Fine by me,” I shrugged. I rushed through breakfast and headed straight to the office. After Harry’s spectacle, I anticipated a flurry of canceled deals. Even though our real revenue stream came from less conventional means, the legitimate business mattered to our employees and their commissions. As I reached the lobby, my assistant, Walter, arrived. “Ms. Albright, you’re in early,” Walter greeted me, looking concerned. “Got to work, Walter. Which projects were flagged for termination? Get the heads of those teams on a call,” I said, walking toward the elevators. “Actually, Ms. Albright, all projects are proceeding normally.” Walter’s worried expression deepened. “After yesterday’s disaster, I expected total chaos, but there’s been zero impact.” Ah, I thought. The Crofts must have been scrambling all night to contain the damage. A very strong survival instinct, I had to admit. “Nothing to worry about then. Inform the teams.” I paused by the elevators, spotting a familiar figure: the same cleaner, Holly, bent over, mopping the floor. “Terminate her employment immediately.” “Yes, Ms. Albright,” Walter confirmed. Holly stood up, her face a mask of wounded shock. “Why? I haven’t done anything wrong here.” I managed a strained smile. “Why the surprise? This is my company. Don’t you recognize your employer?” “Miss Albright.” Holly straightened up, looking pathetically wronged. “I’ve performed all my duties. You are only targeting me because of Harry.” I nearly laughed out loud. “Let me correct you: I’m targeting you because you disrupted my grandmother’s eightieth birthday party.” “I know Harry ending the engagement hurt you deeply. But you can’t bring personal grievances into the workplace. I work hard for my pay. You can’t fire me over private matters.” She looked on the verge of tears. Walter gaped at her, then leaned toward me. “She seems unstable. Should I call security?” “No need. Inform HR to process her termination now.” I turned to press the elevator button. “Miss Albright!” Holly cried out, her voice cracking. “Just because you are a privileged socialite and I am only a cleaner, does that give you the right to trample on my dignity? Cleaners earn their living with their own hands. We are not to be looked down upon.” Walter positioned himself between us, fearing she might lash out. “Ms. Albright, maybe I should call security anyway.” “It’s fine.” I waved Walter back and looked at Holly, the fragile, tenacious flower. “Your liaison with my fiancé and your behavior at the gala have nothing to do with your status as a cleaner.” “So you admit it’s because of Harry!” Excellent point, Walter. “Call security.” “Penelope Albright!” Harry, carrying a cup of coffee and two bagels, rushed in and immediately swept Holly into his embrace. He glared at me. “What did you do to Holly?” 3 I must have murdered their entire family in a previous life to deserve this. The moment Holly saw Harry, the tears started streaming. “Harry, don’t blame Miss Albright. I understand her pain from losing you. I know I shouldn’t be with you, but we have to protect our love.” Harry held her tightly, looking utterly besotted. “Don’t worry, my love. I told you I would handle both the Albright and Croft families. I will never let you suffer any indignity.” Even Walter couldn’t take it anymore. He muttered loudly, “Do either of you possess a single shred of human decency?” Harry ignored Walter completely, addressing me. “Penelope, control your assistant. I fell in love with Holly. She did nothing wrong. If you have an issue, take it up with me.” “Hmph.” I gave him a massive eye-roll. “My assistant, and everyone else in my company, has freedom of speech. I won’t police what they say or whom they criticize. As for you, you piece of stray, cheating filth, if you don’t want to be insulted, take your act elsewhere.” “You!” Harry’s jaw clenched. “Is this just you lashing out because I rejected you?” I wanted to curse his ancestors. Truly, the shameless are invincible. He then sighed dramatically. “I admit I handled this poorly. From now on, I can be like a brother to you. If you ever need anything, you can come to me.” “Spare me. You need to stop grandstanding and start worrying about your own hide. Your grandfather was busy yesterday, but today, you might just lose your legs.” I turned and stepped into the elevator. Harry darted forward and stopped the doors from closing. “What is your problem?” My temper was boiling over. Harry stood in the doorway, striking a pose of haughty superiority. “I told you, I am my grandfather’s successor. Even if I broke the engagement, even if I destroyed the Wells family, he wouldn’t raise a finger against me!” The next second, my stiletto landed squarely on his cheek. “Oops. My mistake. I bought that size too large,” I said dryly, retrieving my shoe and slipping it back on. Holly rushed over, cupping Harry’s face. “Harry, are you okay? Miss Albright is just in so much pain from losing you. That’s why she’s lashing out like this. She’s already suffered enough, please don’t retaliate against her family because of me.” Lock them up together forever. “My car’s outside. I can drive you two to the courthouse right now,” I offered sweetly. “Skip work. Get married.” Harry’s face twisted in conflict. Holly turned to me, her expression conveying a false sense of deep understanding. “Miss Albright, are you truly willing to bless us? I know how much pain you must be hiding.” Why do I always open my big mouth? Thankfully, my grandfather—a true savior when needed—called, demanding I return home immediately. I tossed my day’s agenda to Walter, pushed past the toxic couple, and headed home. Harry’s voice, still shouting something about his “commitment,” followed me. What a jinx. Those two were actively ruining my company’s feng shui. When I arrived home, the living room was already buzzing. The Croft patriarch, Silas Croft, was sitting next to Grandpa. Clearly, the grave-digging plan had been aborted. Given their decades-long relationship, I knew reconciliation was always possible. Standing nearby were six young men: the other Croft grandsons. Ah, he’s brought the whole cavalry. The old man must have been too embarrassed to grovel alone, so he brought a distracting display of handsome youth. There was the one with the wide, powerful shoulders, Nathan (Brother 2). The sharp, dark-browed one, Wesley (Brother 3). The mild-mannered, refined one, Jasper (Brother 4). The most eager, Flynn (Brother 5), spotted me first and chirped, “Sister-in-law!” Snap. Wesley immediately slapped the back of Flynn’s head. Old Man Croft glared, too. So much for being clever. “Are we still having lunch?” I asked, keeping my expression neutral. Old Man Croft gave an uncomfortable chuckle. “Penny, my dear, I promise you, I will make this right. These are our boys. Any one you choose will be the next CEO and heir to our entire family.” I gestured to the baby Nathan was holding. “Does that include the one still on formula?” “Yes!” Silas Croft thumped his chest, looking overly generous. “Even if you wanted all six, I’d grant it. Harry is a fool and doesn’t deserve you. We’ll cut him out.”

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1 Wyatt’s little canary was throwing a tantrum again. He slid the divorce papers across the table to me. “Sign them. It’s just for show, to keep the girl happy.” My fingers tightened on the fabric of my skirt, but I nodded, quietly signing my name. As I was leaving, I heard one of his friends laugh. “Man, your wife is way too agreeable. You could probably ask her to get the marriage license for you and your new girl, and she wouldn’t make a peep.” Wyatt lit a cigarette, a smirk in his voice. “Wanna bet?” They made a wager. That in one month, at City Hall, I would be sobbing my eyes out, but I would still do as I was told. I would trade our marriage certificate for a decree of divorce. I clutched my phone, saying nothing. I just replied to the message that had just come in: Just marry me. Can’t you? “I can.” 2 ? The reply was almost instantaneous. I switched off my phone screen. The sound of laughter still spilled from the office. “Alright, it’s a deal! If she’s really that obedient, drinks for the next month are on me!” “Make it three months,” Wyatt said. “Done, done!” A chorus of laughter and jeers. I fled, stumbling out of the office building and into the sharp, blinding sunlight. Only then did the tears begin to stream down my face. Wyatt had his eyes on a college girl. He bought her a sprawling condo in Seabrook City, filling it with a king’s ransom in luxury goods. But the girl wouldn’t let him kiss her, wouldn’t let him hold her. She lived in a 4,000-square-foot penthouse, draped in haute couture that cost more than a car, and yet she’d jut out her chin and declare, “I will not be a homewrecker!” Wyatt found it endlessly amusing. This was the third time he’d put on a show for her. The first time, he’d staged a grand display of affection with me. I didn’t know about Sadie then. I’d wrapped my arms around him, giddy with joy as we took dozens of photos. When he posted a whole carousel on Instagram, my heart swelled with a mixture of surprise and anticipation. But no matter how many times I refreshed my feed, I couldn’t see it. I found out later he’d set the post’s privacy to ‘Visible only to Sadie.’ The second time, he picked a fight with me. He left me stranded on a street corner and sent Sadie a picture of me crying alone in the rain. See? I’m stuck. She can’t live without me. And the third time, he was divorcing me. My phone buzzed. I pulled it out. Are you serious? You really mean it? Josephine. I wiped away my tears and managed a small, bitter smile. “I’m serious.” 3 That afternoon, Wyatt took me to City Hall, just as he’d planned. He was in a fantastic mood the entire way, chattering about where I wanted to go for our third anniversary. Wyatt and I had grown up together. This was our third year of marriage. “How about Prague?” he suggested. “You’ve been begging to feed the pigeons in the Old Town Square since you were seven.” He got out, walked around to my side, and unbuckled my seatbelt. His brow furrowed as he noticed my face. “Hey, have you been crying?” He gently brushed a thumb under my eye. “I told you, it’s just an act. She’s just a little bird in a cage. I’m just curious to see how long it takes for her to finally give in.” As he spoke, something fell from his pocket. A box of condoms. Wyatt cleared his throat and rubbed his nose, offering no explanation. He led me into City Hall. It all went smoothly. I have selective mutism. When I’m around strangers or under stress, the words just won’t come out. But I can nod and shake my head. “Is this divorce voluntary?” “Yes.” I nodded. “Do you confirm the irretrievable breakdown of the marriage?” “Yes.” I nodded again. “There’s a mandatory thirty-day cooling-off period. You’ll need to return in one month to finalize.” Wyatt took the receipt. He snapped a picture of it before we’d even left the building and tapped out a message. My phone buzzed in sync. It was from Sadie, as usual. A forwarded image of the receipt from Wyatt, with his message attached: Satisfied? Now go get ready for me tonight. I tapped her profile picture and blocked her. A moment later, a flight confirmation email arrived, followed by a text. Flight booked. See you in a month. Paris is waiting. 4 That night, my dreams were full of Wyatt. The Wyatt from our childhood, his words as sweet as honey. “Josie, your eyes are so pretty. Can I look at them whenever I talk to you?” “Josie, you play the piano so beautifully. Can I come listen to your concert every day?” “Josie, I like you the most! When we grow up, I’m going to marry you!” And I loved him, too. We had to be desk partners at school, had to play together after class. I was even in his family’s car when my parents got into their accident, playing rock-paper-scissors with him. The two cars had been so close. I saw it all. The semi-truck barreling through the intersection. BOOM— My father, my mother, my older brother, even the little dog I’d had since I was a puppy… all of them, swallowed by an inferno. For a long time after that, I couldn’t make a sound. I needed Wyatt beside me just to fall asleep. He was so patient back then. He helped me practice speaking, read me stories all night long. If anyone dared to call me a “mute,” he’d meet them with a clenched fist. Marrying him felt like the most natural thing in the world. The day after I got my college diploma, he was leaning over my bed at dawn. “Josie,” he whispered, “let’s go get another certificate.” That day, we became husband and wife. In my dream, our new home was buried in a sea of crimson roses. He knelt on the bed, kissing me with such tenderness. He promised we’d be this happy for the rest of our lives. But when I woke up, the world was pitch black. I fumbled for my phone. Another text from Sadie. It was a photo. Messy, tangled sheets, and on them, a single, damning smear of crimson. A wave of nausea crashed over me. I bolted to the bathroom, retching until only bitter tears came out. I ended up curled on the cold tile, hugging my knees. I don”t know what I pressed on my phone, but in the dead silence of the night, a low, deep voice suddenly spoke. “Josephine?” My heart leaped. I snatched the phone. “Sebastian…?” 5 Sebastian was a fellow patient. After three years of therapy, my selective mutism had improved significantly. It only flared up when I was deeply upset or anxious. During the first two years of my marriage to Wyatt, I was almost completely cured. With time on my hands and a lighter heart, I had joined an online support group. My assigned partner was Sebastian. For two years, I genuinely thought he was a girl. His avatar was a pink bunny, and his screen name was “Angel.” At first, “she” barely responded to me. But I understood. People like us, burdened by years of silence, are often dealing with deep-seated trauma. We might not be able to speak, but we need someone there. So I kept sharing. My daily life, my thoughts, my small joys. I sent texts, then voice notes. Photos, then short videos. Over time, it felt like we were old friends. So much so that the first time we spoke on the phone and I discovered “she” was a man, the shock nearly triggered a relapse. “I… I’m sorry,” I stammered, clutching the phone. “Did I… wake you?” “No,” Sebastian said. “It’s nine p.m. here.” He spoke so fluently now. This was only our second phone call. After learning he was a man, I had deliberately kept my distance. The last time we’d spoken was nearly a month ago. It was pure coincidence. The moment Wyatt handed me the divorce papers, a message from Sebastian had popped up, asking what I was doing. My mind was a blank canvas, wiped clean by the words “divorce papers.” I replied with a single word: Divorce. After signing, I hid in the hallway outside Wyatt’s office, my body wracked with tremors. Sebastian, I think… I think I’m about to lose my home. No father, no mother, no brother, not even my sweet little dog. And now, no Wyatt. What was I going to do? I never expected his reply. Then just marry me. Can’t you? The mocking laughter from inside the office grew louder. “Get real. Josephine wouldn’t know how to function without Wyatt. She’d never actually go through with it.” “Yeah, if she actually had to get a divorce, she’d probably flood City Hall with her tears!” “Is that so?” Wyatt’s voice was a low sneer. He tossed his lighter onto the coffee table. “She could be sobbing her eyes out, and she’d still be my dog. If I tell her to go east, she’ll crawl there on her hands and knees.” I stared through the crack in the door at the man who had become a stranger. Yes. 6 Sebastian sent me a checklist. Things to do within the month. Applying for a visa and finding a lawyer were on it, of course. But it also included a surprisingly long list of must-try restaurants. The Chinese food abroad is terrible. Seriously. I gratefully accepted his advice, eating my way through his list, one restaurant at a time. Being alone wasn’t as hard as I’d imagined. My days were filled with food, shopping, and packing. The day I moved out of our marital home, Wyatt sent me a text. Not even a phone call? Don’t you miss me? He’d taken Sadie on a trip. To “show the girl the world,” he’d said. Naughty, he sent next. Then, a photo. This place is nice. Maybe I’ll bring you here for our anniversary? I wanted to block him, just like I’d blocked Sadie. But I still had to go back to City Hall with him to finalize the divorce, so I held back. Over the next two weeks, I sold off my smaller pieces of jewelry and handbags. I went to the doctor for a check-up and confirmed I wasn’t pregnant. Finally, I gathered all the financial assets Wyatt had entrusted to my care over the years. The night before our appointment at City Hall, Wyatt came back. He called me. “Josie, you moved out?” 7 He was used to my silence on the phone and just chuckled to himself. “Josie, you’re so adorable. I told you it was just an act.” His voice was bright, clearly in a good mood. “Tell you what. Let’s take this act all the way. How about you come with me to City Hall tomorrow and we get the final papers?” I held the phone tightly. “Josie, don’t worry, it’s just…” “Okay,” I said. “Woooooah!” A wave of whoops and hollers erupted from his side of the call. I hung up and texted him the time. The next day, I was up early. Wyatt, however, was late. A faint, but deliberate, bite mark was visible on his lip, no doubt a parting gift from Sadie. He pretended not to notice. I did the same. The process was even quicker than the first time. In and out in five minutes. “Josie, I have a surprise for you tomorrow,” Wyatt said, gently nudging my leg with his foot. I tucked the divorce decree into my purse. “Wyatt, are you free tonight?” I looked at him directly. “There are some things I need to talk to you about.” Wyatt froze. Ever since we were married, I had only ever called him “honey.” A moment later, his charming eyes curved into a smile as he tapped the red document in his hand. “Sure.”

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My boyfriend was diagnosed with Dissociative Identity Disorder. When he “switched,” a new personality would take over and date other women. But every time he “woke up,” he’d be consumed with guilt, threatening self-harm or suicide because he felt so sorry for hurting me. My heart broke for his trauma, so I forgave him every time. I worked three jobs, saving every penny to afford the best psychiatrists for him. Until one day, I ran into him at a hotpot restaurant. From the private room next door, I heard his voice loud and clear, laughing. “I should go to Hollywood, honestly. Get myself an Oscar.” “My acting was too real. Hazel is such an idiot, she actually believes I have DID. Do you know how hard it is not to laugh in her face?” It turns out he wasn’t the sick one. I was. I was blind. It took me five years to realize I was loving a monster. 1 The hotpot place was packed on the weekend. I rubbed my aching back, just catching my breath when my manager, Sarah, told me we were short-staffed and needed help in the front. I agreed and pushed through the curtain. Immediately, I heard familiar male voices. “Caleb, does your girlfriend actually buy that crap?” “Bro, we saw it with our own eyes! Caleb just puts on that sad puppy face, maybe cuts his finger a little, and that woman loses her mind. She’d practically die for him!” “Dating his first love while keeping the girlfriend on the hook… we all need to take notes from Caleb.” I hid around the corner, unconsciously rubbing my wrinkled, water-logged hands. My heart plummeted. Amidst the laughter, I heard his voice. “I should go to Hollywood, honestly. Get myself an Oscar.” “My acting was too real. Hazel is such an idiot, she actually believes I have DID. Do you know how hard it is not to laugh in her face?” His tone was pure, unadulterated smugness. In front of me, he was always insecure, sensitive, and fragile. I never imagined he had this side. “You’re ruthless, man. Hazel really loves you.” “Oh, what do you know! If it wasn’t for her, Caleb and Luna wouldn’t have wasted so many years apart due to a misunderstanding. Now that the true queen is back, we gotta support our boy!” Caleb’s face was obscured by the steam from the pot. After a pause, I heard his low chuckle. “Whatever you say.” A customer nearby needed the bill. I led them to the counter. When I returned, there was a woman at their table. Big waves, off-the-shoulder sweater, fashionable and dazzling. I recognized her instantly. Caleb’s first love. Luna. She was standing in front of him, greeting everyone with a smile. When the guys called her “Sister-in-law,” Luna blushed and looked at the man beside her. Her tone was half-annoyed, half-shy: “Caleb, aren’t you going to correct them? They’re just calling me whatever they want.” Caleb smirked. “Their mouths are on their faces. I can’t control them.” Seeing Luna’s shyness, someone teased, “Caleb gave us the green light, so just accept it, sis!” “Yeah, Caleb even got a fake psych eval for you. If that’s not love, what is?” Under the cheers, the two locked eyes. Luna lifted her delicate face. “What about her? What are you going to do?” Caleb gently tied her hair back with a hair tie, raising an eyebrow. “You know where my heart is.” “Yes, she stayed by my side when my family fell apart, but that doesn’t mean anything. You can’t confuse gratitude with love.” “And I was selfish. We missed out on so many years because of her.” “So, I planned to break up with her on her birthday. Let her hit rock bottom and really feel what it’s like to lose everything.” “You’re so bad.” Luna laughed, playfully hitting his chest before leaning into his embrace. The atmosphere was thick with flirtation. And I stood in the middle of the bustling hall, staring at their backs, feeling cold to my bones. 2 “But I can’t wait. I came to find you the moment I got back to the States. You want me to wait until her birthday?” “I don’t care. Call her and dump her right now.” Caleb laughed, pinching the cheek of the whining woman, utterly doting. “I know you’re anxious, but what if she keeps clinging to me? I need to make her give up completely. Only then can I properly visit your parents.” Luna pushed his hand away, suspicious. “What if she keeps clinging? You won’t go soft, will you?” “After all, she suffered with you. Don’t they say men never forget the woman who was there at rock bottom?” Caleb tapped her forehead lightly. “Silly. Has anyone ever told you that most men don’t want their beloved to see them at their most pathetic?” “Really?” “Of course. I worked hard to build my career just so I could get your family’s approval when you came back.” “I heard you say the food abroad sucked, so I picked this hotpot place specially. You love spicy food, right? I can’t bear to see you hungry. Here, eat first. I’ll agree to anything you want later.” Caleb thoughtfully served food onto Luna’s plate. A guy at the table dropped his chopsticks and yelled, “Waiter! Need new chopsticks!” Everyone else was busy, so Sarah shouted my name. “Hazel! Go handle Table 10!” The guy’s face changed when he saw me. He winked frantically at the person across from him. When I walked over with the chopsticks, everyone froze. Caleb reacted first. He looked at me with confusion. “Why are you staring at me? Do we know each other?” Old trick. Every time he “switched,” he pretended not to know me. I tried to stay calm, but my eyes grew hot. “I heard everything.” “Is it fun, pretending to be sick to trick me?” The man in front of me darkened, pursing his lips into silence. Luna, on the other hand, looked me up and down and sneered. “Five years, and you haven’t improved at all. He even made up such a ridiculous lie to fool you, and you were stupid enough to believe it.” I glanced at my uniform, stained with water from washing dishes. My throat burned. “What right do you have to judge me? I made money to treat his illness. You were the one who abandoned him back then.” Hearing this, Caleb pulled a pale Luna behind him. He narrowed his eyes at me. “Get this straight, Hazel. I never asked you to be nice to me. You did all that because you wanted to.” “Do you really think my breakup with Luna had nothing to do with you?” “You thought you were protecting me, but you made me lose what mattered most. You forced Luna away.” “You stole five years from us.” I stood frozen, the chopsticks slipping from my hand and clattering to the floor. Caleb avoided my gaze, his tone flat. “I’ll pay you back for everything you spent. As for your birthday, I’ll still…” I cut him off. “Do it early.” Caleb paused, looking confused. “Do what early?” “I know what you planned for my birthday. Break up early. Today.” Caleb stared at me for a long time, then chuckled. “You said it. Don’t regret it tomorrow.” There was a hint of anger in his voice. I blinked away the tears to see his face clearly. “Yeah. That’s it.” I turned around, briefly explained the situation to Sarah, and fled the scene. I didn’t notice the gaze glued to my back as I left. 3 Actually, I should have noticed sooner. His premeditated departure was evident everywhere. While packing, I found a pile of empty picture frames in the closet. Some were dusty, some moldy. After five years together, Caleb and I didn’t have a single photo together. I was a photographer. Cameras were everywhere. But he never gave me the chance. “I hate photos. I’m just not photogenic.” “Babe, I want our first photo to be our wedding photo.” He had so many excuses. Back then, overwhelmed by love, I never questioned the truth behind them. Not worth it. Not necessary. I remembered our graduation photo from years ago. Caleb blushing, squeezing next to Luna. Love and indifference are so obvious. Suffocation clawed at my chest. I stumbled to the living room, grabbed a bottle of pills from the coffee table, and swallowed a fluoxetine with trembling hands. I slid down to the carpet. Soon, the side effects hit. I rushed to the bathroom and vomited until I was weak. Standing up, I looked in the mirror. Pale, haggard, tear-stained. No different from years ago. I was born into an unhappy family. Parents divorced early, dad left for work, and I lived with my aunt and uncle. Living under someone else’s roof, I survived by reading people’s moods. But I remembered my grandma’s words: education changes fate. So I endured until high school. I consistently ranked in the top ten, but secretly, I envied one person. Luna, from Class 8. She taught me how different destinies could be. Beautiful, rich, with tutors for every subject. It seemed she could have anything she wanted with a wave of her hand. Two people from different worlds. But in our senior year, we intersected. Because of Caleb. I first met him in a secluded corner of our complex’s garden. A thin boy sitting under a flower bed, covered in bruises, face swollen. Yet he smiled and said: “This is my turf. You gotta pay the toll to stay.” I searched my pockets and found a pack of band-aids. He looked up at me, eyes black as ink. After a long pause, he took them. After that, whenever I ran away to hide there, I’d find Caleb. I learned he was like me. Maybe even worse. Alcoholic dad, gambling mom. Full debuff build. “We’re really brothers in misery.” I froze, then held his bony hand. The warmth stayed with me. I thought we were just similar souls. I never thought he’d save me. One weekend, my uncle picked me up. As soon as we got out of the car, he dragged me into the woods. When he yanked my pants down, I screamed. Caleb appeared out of nowhere, tackling my uncle and beating him bloody. After returning from the police station, he got beaten by his dad and ended up in the hospital. After that, we bonded. He told me to protect myself, at least until graduation. But four months before the entrance exams, something happened to him. The teacher thought he and Luna were dating and called the parents. It blew up. Luna was taken home by her family and never came back. That night, police and ambulances swarmed our complex. Caleb’s mom was carried out covered in blood. His dad was arrested. When I found him the next day, he was lying in bed next to an empty pill bottle. After he survived, I hugged him and cried. “If you want, I’ll be your family from now on.” He agreed. As my boyfriend. I thought two broken hearts could heal each other. But now I realize: during all those years I looked forward to our future, he was counting down the days until he could leave me. 4 But Luna was wrong about one thing. I didn’t believe Caleb’s lies because I was stupid. I believed him because I was sick too. So I could empathize with the mental torture. It wasn’t strange for someone like Caleb, with his traumatic childhood, to develop mental illness after witnessing his parents destroy each other. The first time he “switched,” his acting wasn’t even good. Thinking back, the woman I saw him meeting looked a lot like Luna. Probably her sister. When he came back, he rushed into the shower like he’d just woken up from a nightmare. He stayed in there forever. When I went in, his wrists were covered in scratches. He knelt on the floor, face full of panic and pain. “Hazel, am I sick? I don’t know why I met that woman.” “I don’t like anyone else. Don’t be mad, don’t leave me, okay?” The tears in his eyes and the red water at his feet blurred my vision. My crumbling spirit rebuilt itself into pity. So later, when he used other women as a cover, I forgave him every time. He was actually meeting Luna’s sister most of the time. Keeping in touch. Only I was the fool. I believed the fake diagnosis. I read books on DID, researched pathology, worked three jobs to save for his treatment. I wanted him to get better. But now I realize the boy who once stood in front of me has rotted to the core. I washed my face with cold water. The daze faded. Strength returned to my limbs. When the movers arrived, I had packed everything and left it in the hallway. Only his laptop remained in the study. When I moved it, I knocked over the desk calendar. A photo fell out. A yellowed graduation photo, cropped to show only Caleb and Luna smiling. My scalp tingled. The dull ache in my chest slowed. Steadying my trembling hands, I put the photo back. I turned and left the place I once called “home.” In my daze, my mind was sharp. I remembered the doctor’s words: Humans are social animals. Especially me. You have to save yourself. So I decided to move into my friend’s apartment. Reconnecting with people, I forced myself to forget the mess. When my friend Lily heard about the breakup, she encouraged me: “Unlucky in love, lucky in money. Hazel, I believe in you.” While helping me move, she saw my portfolio. That night, she invited me to join her company. “I wanted to ask before, but I thought you were too busy. Are you sure you don’t need a break?” I smiled. “I’m sure. Say the word, I’ll be there tomorrow.” Only by staying busy, by exhausting my body, could I stop the depression from drowning me at night. Looking back, I am incredibly grateful for that decision.

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