Category: English

Ever since I got my own phone at five years old, I’ve been getting messages from a stranger. She calls me Mom. At three o’clock this morning, she messaged me again. “Mom, I dreamed of you again. The attic is leaking, and my stepmom made me soak up the water with a rag. But the rag was too small. I’ve been wiping all night, but it’s still wet. Mom, I’m so cold and hungry right now. I miss you so much…” I tilted my head, watching the rain lash against the windowpane, and typed back a serious reply: “Don’t be scared, sweetie. Where are you? Mommy will bring you something yummy to eat!” 1. “Who are you?” A message shot back almost instantly. I was confused. I blinked my big eyes and pouted. “Weren’t you the one who called me Mom?” Why is she asking who I am now? To prove I was a responsible mother, I even added a cute and patient little smiley face at the end. 🙂 But I waited for a long, long time. My daughter never replied, and I drifted off into a hazy sleep. The next morning, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, the first thing I did was fumble for my phone. There was a new message on the screen. From my daughter. “You’re not my mom. My mom passed away five years ago.” I looked down at my own round little tummy and puffed out my chest, planting my hands firmly on my hips. “That’s rude! I’m only five years old, and I’m alive and kicking!” A moment later, it hit me. Her mom must have disappeared five years ago. My mommy says that when people disappear, they come back as new people. And I’m exactly five years old. Maybe I really am her mom. Whenever we play house, I’m famous among all the other kids for being the best mommy! I was just about to share this brilliant discovery with her when a new message arrived. “I don’t know who you are, but thank you.” “This was my mom’s old phone number. Today is my 18th birthday. If it’s not too much to ask, could you… could you wish me a happy birthday?” I slipped my feet into my bunny slippers, recorded a voice note in my squeaky little voice, and sent it to her. “Happy birthday, sweetie! Be happy and eat yummy candy every day!” Then another thought struck me. Every year on my birthday, Mom and Dad give me presents. So my daughter must need a big birthday present too, right? I started typing again. “It’s your birthday! What present do you want from Mommy?” “Mommy likes cute dolls and chocolate. What do you like?” The girl on the other end hesitated for a long time before replying. “Could you… could you send me a few painkillers?” I didn’t know what painkillers were. But I knew that people only take medicine when they’re sick. I quickly typed back, “Sweetie, are you sick?” “My stepmom locked me in the attic last night…” she began, as if she was afraid I’d misunderstand. “She said I stole money and locked me in the attic and beat me. My body hurts all over. All I want is a painkiller.” Stepmothers sounded awful. Just like the evil queen in Snow White. I huffed, my cheeks puffing out as I messaged my daughter. “Your stepmom is a mean, mean monster! Don’t worry, sweetie. Don’t be scared. My dad is super strong. I’ll get him to go bite your stepmom to get revenge for you!” I immediately asked for her address and scampered downstairs to find Mrs. Gable, our housekeeper. “Mrs. Gable! Lily needs a courier!” Then I grabbed the medicine box from the cabinet, got down on the floor, and started rummaging through it with my little bottom stuck in the air. The boxes were a kaleidoscope of colors, but I couldn’t read any of them. I looked left, I looked right, but nothing seemed right. Mrs. Gable saw my little face scrunched up in concentration and chuckled. “Lily, honey, what are you doing with the medicine box?” I looked up at her. “Mrs. Gable, which one of these is for pain?” Her expression immediately turned serious. She scooped me up from the floor, her hand gently touching my forehead and palms. “What’s wrong, Lily-bug? Are you hurt somewhere?” I shook my head obediently. “I’m not hurt. But it’s my daughter’s birthday, and I need to send her some painkillers!” Mrs. Gable, thinking I was playing with one of my dolls, smiled and gently corrected me. “Oh, sweetie. On birthdays, we eat cake, not painkillers.” Her words were a revelation. I slapped my forehead. Of course! For her birthday, I needed to send my daughter not just painkillers, but also a little cake and some sweet, sweet candy. That way, the medicine wouldn’t taste so bitter. 2. I immediately asked Mrs. Gable to help me order a cute little cake. She had no idea what I was up to, but she thoughtfully placed the order for me anyway. I chose an adorable unicorn cake, bought two boxes of painkillers, and added a bag of my most treasured, super-secret stash of cream-filled candies that I hardly ever let myself eat. I packed everything into a cute pink bag and had a courier deliver it to my daughter’s school. “To my dearest sweetie, Mommy got you lots of presents. Remember to eat a piece of candy after you take the medicine so it won’t be bitter. Happy Birthday!” After the order was complete, I made sure to ask the courier, “Sir, is my daughter okay?” The courier let out a soft sigh. “That poor girl… she was covered in bruises, all black and blue. Looked like she’s been abused. Her clothes were full of patches, and her face was so pale. It was heartbreaking to see.” My heart twisted into a knot as I listened. What mother wouldn’t worry about her daughter? A little while later, my daughter sent me a photo of her eating the cake. “Thank you. This is the first time I’ve had a birthday cake since my mom died. The cake is delicious, and the candy is so sweet.” “You’re welcome, sweetie! From now on, Mommy will get you a cake for every single birthday!” “Thank you, Mom.” Gleefully, I opened my phone and searched online: How to raise a daughter. The internet said you have to spoil your daughter, give her all the most wonderful things in the world… I nodded in understanding, my gaze slowly falling upon my little pink piggy bank. When my mom walked into my room with a strawberry milkshake, I was whacking my piggy bank with a small toy hammer. Clang! Clang! Clang! Coins scattered across the carpet like fizzy candy, and I was on all fours, picking them up one by one. “This one is for candy for my daughter… this one is for a new dress… this one is for the newest toy… and this one is for Daddy, so he can go teach her stepmom a lesson!” My mom leaned against the doorframe, a smile playing on her lips as she listened to my muttering. “Lily-bug, why did you smash your favorite piggy bank? Is there a new toy you want to buy?” I scrambled up and threw my arms around her legs excitedly. “I have a daughter now, so of course I have to provide for her!” Mom was stunned. “Where did you get a daughter?” I held up my phone, pointing to the text messages on the screen. “I found her myself! She’s a poor, pitiful girl with no mommy, and her stepmom bullies her.” “I read online that raising a daughter is very expensive. I have to start working hard now.” Mom looked at me, a helpless expression on her face, and tried to explain patiently, “Honey, there are a lot of bad people in the world. Not everyone loves you like Mommy and Daddy do. What if the person on the other end is a scammer?” But I didn’t believe her. “No way. If she was a scammer, she would have asked for lots and lots of presents. But my daughter only asked for a single painkiller.” “Her mommy left her. If I, her new mommy, don’t take care of her, her stepmom will bully her to death!” Mom sighed. “No, she won’t. The police will help her.” I shook my head. “The police can’t help everyone. But I’m her mom. I’ll protect her.” Just then, my dad walked in. The briefcase in his hand thudded to the floor. “What? My baby is a mother?” “But Lily, you’re still so little. You don’t even know how to tie your own shoes yet…” “You don’t have to know how to tie shoes to be a mommy!” I retorted, tilting my head. “To be a mommy, you just have to wipe away tears, share your candy, and…” I stood on my tiptoes and kissed both of my parents on the cheek. “And you have to say ‘I love you’ a hundred times every single day!” “I know I can be a good mommy!” 3. My parents, left speechless by my declaration, let out a soft sigh. “Alright, then. We believe you can be a good mommy, too.” “But we need to make sure you’re safe. So, we’re going to do a little background check on this girl, okay?” I didn’t really understand what they were talking about. All I knew was that my daughter was a good, sweet girl, and my parents would definitely love her too. That night, my daughter sent me a picture. It was a dark, cramped attic, with a single, thin quilt spread out on the cold floor. “This is where I sleep every night.” Looking at that dark, miserable attic, my heart ached for her. I turned and took a picture of the star projector in my own room. “Don’t be scared, sweetie. I’ll share my starlight with you!” She replied with a smiling face. “Okay!” Then she sent another photo. It was a faded family portrait. In it, she was smiling brightly, held by a beautiful woman who had a distinct mole on her ear… I scrambled out of bed and looked at my own ear in the mirror. Then I ran to show my mom. “Mommy, look! I have the same mark on my ear as my daughter’s mom!” I carefully took a picture of my ear and sent it. “My grandpa told me that when people pass away, they come back to this world with a gift. See? I have a mole in the exact same spot as your mom!” The phone was silent for a long time. Finally, the girl on the other end replied softly. “Will you… will you stay with me forever, then? Mom.” “Of course!” I knew, deep down, that this was different from playing house. This time, I had a real daughter. And I would always be there for her. Later that evening, my grandma and grandpa sent me some gift money. Without a second thought, I generously transferred it all to my daughter. The girl on the other end was shocked. “Why are you giving me money?” I told her, “Because you’re my daughter! It’s a mommy’s job to give her daughter an allowance!” She immediately sent the transfer back. The chat bubble showed she was typing, but it took a long time for the message to come through. “Thank you, but I really can’t take your money. My dad is a sailor, and he sends money for my tuition and living expenses to the school. I can eat at the school cafeteria…” “Mom, all I need is for you to be here for me, to listen to me talk every day. That’s enough.” My eyes welled up. My daughter was so thoughtful and mature. “Okay. From now on, you can tell Mommy anything!” Suddenly, my phone started buzzing. It was a call from my daughter. I froze, not knowing what to do. What if she finds out I’m only five? Will she not let me be her mom anymore? After a moment of panic, I answered the call. From the other end, I could hear the drip-drip-drip of rain hitting the floor, and then an older girl’s voice. “Hello? Thank you for being willing to be here for me, in my mom’s place.” I tried to lower my voice, but I couldn’t hide the squeaky, childish tone. “It’s what a mommy’s supposed to do!” Her voice trembled. “Thank you. Right now… besides Ginger, you’re the only one who’s here for me.” I tilted my head. “Who’s Ginger?” “He was my mom’s cat. He’s nine years old now, a real old man.” My daughter sent a picture over. The orange cat in the photo was a round, fluffy ball, but the tips of his fur were turning white. You could tell he was an old-timer. I gasped in delight. “Wow, what a cute kitty! From now on, you’ll have me and the kitty with you. So don’t you be sad anymore, okay, daughter?” “Okay,” she whispered. “I won’t be sad.” And so, we started talking on the phone every night. She would share stories about her day at school, telling me that growing up was a journey full of both joy and challenges. And I would pick up the new fairytale book my mom bought me and read her the latest stories. My mom and dad would stand in my doorway, looking a little jealous. They’d shake their heads and say with a sigh, “See? The moment our daughter has a child of her own, she forgets all about us old folks!” “Lily, are you not sleeping with Mommy again tonight?” I looked up, my little face beaming with excitement. “Mommy, my daughter’s name is Autumn! Isn’t that a beautiful name?” “She sounds like a lovely princess!” My dad nodded with a weary smile. “Yes, yes. Your daughter is better than my daughter.” I pouted in protest. “Your daughter is pretty great too!”

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My cousin always had my back. He married my wealthy fiancée, telling me that rich women were twisted predators who would suck a man dry, and that he would walk through fire for me. He sold her spare villa, claiming I was using it to house my mistress. He maxed out her credit card, saying it was to pay off my gambling debts. He had an affair with her pregnant best friend, causing her to hemorrhage, and then said I had sexually assaulted her, causing the miscarriage. In the end, his wife had me shipped off to a forced labor camp in Southeast Asia to atone for my sins. To tie up loose ends, he hired someone to cut out my kidneys and torture me to death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the affair, the day of the miscarriage. 1 Every time my cousin, Zander, went on a date with his mistress, he told his wife, Scarlett, that he was with me. The excuses varied: I was having an affair with a married woman and got beaten up, so I needed his support; I was being chased by loan sharks over gambling debts and needed help; I even supposedly needed him to accompany me to the hospital for treatment for an STD. If Scarlett hadn’t shown up at my door in a rage last time, listing off my supposed crimes, I would have never known my life was so damn colorful. Right now, Scarlett’s calls were blowing up my phone again. The second I answered, her sharp voice exploded in my ear. “Caleb, it’s so late! What are you keeping Zander at your place for again?” “I’ve had enough of you! Zander is your cousin, not your father! You’re a grown man, can you stop leeching off of him?” “Zander and I are trying for a baby. Could you have some shame and stop bothering him with your problems every single day? Do you have any idea how annoying you are?” “Is it because I dumped you before? Are you holding a grudge and deliberately trying to ruin my family? Zander is a simple man. If you keep using him like this, don’t blame me for getting rough! Send him back to me, now!” Scarlett sounded like she was at her breaking point, her voice a barrage of accusations that made my ears ache. Back when Scarlett and I were dating, I thought she was a gentle and considerate girl, without any of the arrogance of a rich heiress. But Zander always said that the sweeter a woman seemed on the surface, the more twisted she was underneath. Every time Scarlett was kind to me, he’d insist she must have been with another man, and was just putting on a show to make up for it. Then, during a rough patch between Scarlett and me, he swooped in, becoming her caring confidant. While defending her, he would casually weave elaborate tales about my supposed misdeeds. With Zander stirring the pot, Scarlett and I drifted further and further apart. If I hadn’t accidentally found a pair of Zander’s underwear at her place, I might still be congratulating myself on having such a world-wise cousin who helped me see through a manipulative woman. Not long after, he and Scarlett got married. Since then, I’d had the good sense to keep my distance. But Scarlett didn’t see it that way. Every few days, she’d call me with a new interrogation. My life, outside of work, became a constant cycle of explaining Zander’s whereabouts. The truth was, I had no idea what Zander was doing. I could only repeat the excuses he fed me, enduring her wrath and brushing her off. Until the day Scarlett stormed into my apartment, lectured me furiously, and then had her men stuff me in a sack and ship me off to a labor camp. Only then did I realize I’d been his scapegoat, his fall guy. Thinking back on Scarlett’s revenge in my past life, and Zander’s methods of silencing me, a fire started burning in my gut. Scarlett, tonight, you’re going to see with your own eyes what kind of man your ‘simple, good’ husband really is. A cold smile touched my lips. “Zander’s busy clearing out some pipes right now,” I said into the phone. “He can’t come back just yet.” Then, my expression turned to ice. I hung up and turned off my phone. I wasn’t going to waste another word on her. But soon, there was a knock at the door. The moment I turned the lock, the door burst open with tremendous force, sending me stumbling backward. Before I could react, several bodyguards pinned me to the ground. Scarlett strode in, her high heels clicking on the floor, and began to search frantically for Zander. She tore my two-bedroom apartment apart. But she found nothing. “Didn’t you say Zander was clearing out pipes? Where is he?” She stormed up to me, her face a mask of fury. Seeing her rage, a dark sense of satisfaction began to bloom inside me. I raised an eyebrow. “I only said he was clearing out pipes,” I said slowly. “I never said it was at my place. Maybe he’s clearing out the pipes at your best friend’s place. Why don’t you go check?” Scarlett’s brow furrowed. She lunged forward and grabbed me by the collar. “Don’t play games with me,” she hissed. “I’ll ask you one last time. Where are you hiding Zander?” 2 Zander’s movements were always a secret. I was just his scapegoat; how would I know where he was? “He’s a grown man with two feet,” I said flatly. “How could I control where he goes? I’m not his father!” Not getting the answer she wanted, Scarlett’s eyes turned cold. She slapped me hard across the face. Her long nails raked across my skin, leaving several deep, bleeding scratches. Rage flared inside me. But so did anticipation. Is that all it takes to make you angry? The real fury is yet to come. Seeing my defiant expression, Scarlett began to rhythmically slap my face with the back of her hand, her teeth gritted. “You think you can just clam up and I can’t do anything to you?” She pulled my phone from my pocket, turned it on, used my face to unlock it, and started scrolling through my contacts. When she saw my emergency contact, a cold smile played on her lips. She dialed the number. “Honey, what’s wrong?” My wife Amelia’s gentle voice came through the phone. I tried to speak, but one of the bodyguards clamped a hand over my mouth, silencing me. “Are you Caleb’s wife?” Scarlett asked coldly, her voice dripping with contempt. “Who is this?” Hearing a strange woman’s voice on my phone, Amelia’s tone sharpened with alarm. Scarlett looked directly at me, her expression taunting. “I’m Caleb’s ex. But don’t worry, I’m married now. I have zero interest in him.” Amelia was silent for a few seconds before asking, “Then why are you calling me from his phone?” “No reason. Just thought you should know a few things about your wonderful husband.” “His personal life is a complete mess. When we were together, he was constantly cheating on me.” “I was disgusted, so I broke up with him.” “For all these years, he’s been living off my husband, using our villa to house his mistresses, and gambling away his money, making my husband max out my credit card to pay his debts.” “You probably don’t know this, but your husband also got another woman pregnant.” “A while ago, he even went to the hospital for treatment for an STD. I suggest you get yourself checked out too.” “Aren’t you ashamed to be married to such a filthy man?” “It’s truly pathetic for a woman to live like you, treasuring a rotten piece of trash. It makes me sick just thinking about it. If I were you, I would have killed myself by now.” Scarlett’s words rained down, burying me in filth. On the other end of the line, Amelia fell into a long silence. Amelia and I had a great marriage. She was kind, generous, and gentle. For years, no matter how big our fights, she was always willing to talk things out patiently, never giving me the cold shoulder or losing her temper. But this time, it seemed Scarlett’s words had angered her so much that she didn’t want to say another word. Scarlett hung up, looking at me with triumph. “Well? Still not going to tell me where Zander is?” The bodyguard released his hand from my mouth. “You broke into my home, restrained me, assaulted me, and slandered me. These are all illegal,” I spat, glaring at Scarlett, wishing I could tear this stupid woman to shreds. Seeing my continued defiance, Scarlett’s anger grew. “Illegal? I’ll show you what’s really illegal!” She turned to her other bodyguards. “Trash this place!” On her command, the men began to furiously destroy my apartment. In minutes, my once neat and clean home was a complete wreck. Not a single thing was left intact. “Scarlett,” I said through gritted teeth, “are you not afraid of the law, acting so recklessly?” Scarlett sneered, her face full of disdain. “The law is for punishing morally corrupt, filthy men like you. Cheating is one thing, but how much money have you extorted from Zander over the years? Don’t you know? Everything in this apartment was bought with his money. I’m just breaking my own things. What’s the problem?” Scarlett’s words were forceful and self-righteous. As if she wasn’t committing a crime, but punishing a deserving sinner. I glanced at the time. It was less than half an hour until her best friend’s miscarriage. The real show was about to begin. I suppressed my anger and said playfully, “Why don’t you wait a little longer? Your husband will be contacting you soon.” Seeing my nonchalant attitude, Scarlett became even more furious. “Still talking back? Today, I’m going to completely ruin you!” “Take him away!” Several bodyguards grabbed me and dragged me to the entrance of the apartment complex. The commotion quickly attracted the attention of passersby. Seeing a crowd gathering, Scarlett seized the opportunity to publicly proclaim my ‘sins.’ In no time, a crowd had surrounded me, pointing and whispering. “This is too much! He’s a grown man, still leeching off his cousin like this. He’s just ruining his life! His cousin must be a saint to put up with him. If it were me, I would have kicked him to the curb long ago!” “He’s a classic parasite relative. He’s jealous when you’re poor and resents you when you’re rich, but he’s too lazy and greedy to do anything himself. He just takes and takes. My husband’s cousin scammed him into a mountain of debt, and he ended up jumping off a building. Now he’s paralyzed.” “Men like this are vampires. They latch onto one person and suck them dry. Whoever gets involved with him is cursed!” “And he’s filthy! Cheating on his wife with all sorts of women. I feel disgusted just living in the same complex as him.” The crowd spat their insults, all of them convinced I was a monster. Scarlett looked down at me, her expression triumphant. “Well? Still want to be stubborn?” She thought she had me cornered, that I was about to break. I just laughed coldly. “Your methods are too weak. What good is a small crowd of people in this complex going to do? I can just move and it will all be over. You should have called some online streamers to broadcast this to the whole world. That’s how you really ruin someone.” Scarlett’s face darkened. “Fine,” she hissed. “I’ll grant your wish!” She pulled out her phone and made another call. My anticipation grew. Go on. Make a scene. The bigger, the better. Let the whole world see what your wonderful husband is really like. 3 Scarlett’s influence was impressive. In no time, a horde of online streamers arrived, each holding up their phone and broadcasting me live. “Folks, I’ve got some major tea for you! See this guy right here? He may look all clean-cut on the outside, but inside, he’s completely rotten!” “For years, he’s been living by sucking his cousin dry. Whenever he needs money, he just asks his cousin. His cousin is married, with a wife at home trying to get pregnant, but this guy treats him like a servant, making him run errands, buy him things, drink with him, and even take care of him when he’s blackout drunk in the middle of the night.” “His cousin treats him so well, but not only is he ungrateful, he spends money like water, making his cousin pay for everything. He even used his cousin’s wife’s spare villa to pretend to be a tycoon and house his mistresses, tricking countless young women.” “And get this, his personal life is a disaster. He’s married, but he cheats constantly. He has women in the villa, and he’s got more on the side. He never stops. He even had an affair with a married woman and got beaten up by her husband. The list of his exploits is endless!” “I heard he even has STDs. He had no choice but to go to the hospital for treatment, but he didn’t dare tell anyone, so he made his cousin go with him. Who knows how many women he’s infected.” “I’m telling you all, remember this face. If you see him and you’re strong enough, give him a good beating. If not, just stay away. You don’t want to catch what he has.” The streamers embellished the false accusations, spinning a tale of my supposed depravity. In an instant, all the live streams were flooded with curses and insults directed at me. “Wow, his cousin and his wife are so unlucky to be stuck with such a disgusting, vile person!” “I’m so angry! This guy is a walking plague!” “Yeah, people like him are a menace to society!” The public opinion spread like wildfire. My photo was soon trending online. Labels like “Vampire,” “Toxic Cousin,” and “Syphilis Man” became my new identity. Fueled by the streamers, the crowd’s anger boiled over. They started throwing eggs and rotten vegetables at me. Some people who were eating nearby even started throwing their beer bottles at my feet. I stood there like a criminal awaiting execution, surrounded by garbage, enduring the insults. Just then, Amelia emerged from the crowd and walked towards me. Seeing her familiar face, my cold heart felt a flicker of warmth, as if bathed in sudden sunlight. Amelia was the sun in my life. She loved me, trusted me. No matter what, she was always there to comfort me with gentle patience. She was my lover, my warmest sanctuary. In that moment, all I wanted was her embrace. Without hesitation, I dropped all my defenses and opened my arms to her. But the moment I touched her, she shoved me away. Caught off guard, I lost my balance and fell backward onto the ground. Shards of broken glass from the bottles dug deep into my palms and legs. A sharp, searing pain shot through me, but the pain in my heart was deeper, sharper. Even Amelia doesn’t believe me? “Caleb, I can’t believe you’re this kind of person.” Amelia’s eyes were red as she spoke, her voice filled with disappointment and hurt. “For all these years, I trusted you unconditionally. I took care of you, never once losing my temper.” “I knew your work was hard, so when I was sick, I endured it myself. When I was in pain, I suffered in silence, just so I wouldn’t add to your stress or make you worry.” “I knew you had a sensitive stomach, so I learned how to cook special meals for you, doing everything I could to nurse you back to health.” “But you? Your so-called hard work was just leeching off your cousin!” “Your so-called fighting for our family was just supporting other women on the side!” “The body I worked so hard to nurse back to health, you desecrated in your filthy affairs!” “Caleb, you’re not just disrespecting yourself, you’re trampling on our marriage!” Amelia, who was always as gentle as water, had never been so out of control. She screamed at me, every word laced with a profound disappointment. Seeing her like this, my heart ached. I gritted my teeth against the pain and tried to stand, to explain. “Amelia, I…” Before I could finish, she slapped me across the face. “Shut up!” she spat. “Don’t say my name. You don’t deserve to!” She ripped off her wedding ring and threw it in my face. “I want a divorce!” Amelia’s words pierced my heart. Her slap shattered the last of my resolve. I stood there, stunned, as if my soul had been ripped from my body. Scarlett seized the moment to mock me. “Caleb, now you know what it feels like to be completely ruined. A greedy, morally bankrupt scumbag like you doesn’t deserve anyone’s love, and you certainly don’t deserve Zander being so good to you.” “I’m so glad I saw through you and got away from a parasitic monster like you. The thought of ever having dated you makes me sick.” “The only good thing you ever did in your life was bring Zander to me. From now on, you can just be a rat scurrying in the streets, despised by everyone. I won’t let Zander have anything to do with you anymore. Let’s see how you survive without him.” Scarlett’s speech was delivered with dramatic flair, and it resonated with the crowd. Instantly, the live comments, the onlookers, and the streamers all unleashed a fresh torrent of abuse. The weight of a thousand accusations is terrifying. Even though I had prepared myself, I couldn’t help but feel myself starting to break. Just then, Scarlett’s phone rang. The caller was Zander. The moment she answered, Zander’s trembling, panicked voice came through. “Honey, your… your best friend had a miscarriage.” Hearing this, Scarlett’s brow furrowed in alarm. “What happened?” Zander stammered, “It was Caleb. He tried to force himself on her. When she resisted, he beat her and caused the miscarriage!” Zander’s words, in the middle of this swirling vortex of hate, brought me a sharp sense of relief. Finally, it’s all coming to an end.

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I am the true heiress, the one whose identity was stolen. As I lay dying, the woman who would become the story’s heroine took the locket that proved my birthright and made a promise: “I will live on for you.” Years later, at the height of her glory, I came back. 1. The entire Anderson family was gathered, a storm of conflicted emotions brewing in the tense silence. An open manila envelope lay on the coffee table. I sat on the sofa, my face a mask of calm, awaiting the final verdict. No one had ever suspected that the celebrated heiress of the Anderson family, a woman currently dazzling high society, was nothing but an imposter. The strange atmosphere was broken by the sound of the door opening. The other main character of this drama had arrived. The smile hadn’t yet faded from her face; she was clearly in high spirits. Seeing the entire family assembled, she paused, a flicker of confusion in her eyes, before greeting each of them one by one. Her gaze finally landed on my back. As if on cue, a slow smile touched my lips. “And who is this?” she asked, her voice laced with curiosity. The family seemed to snap out of their collective trance. No one answered her. Or rather, they didn’t know how to answer. One of them shot her a look of profound complexity, a flash of disgust in their eyes. My parents, who had always doted on her, now regarded her with a coldness I’d never seen, their gazes sharp and unforgiving. Just as the wrongness of the situation began to dawn on her, I rose from the sofa. “It’s been a long time,” I said, my voice dripping with mock sweetness, “Mandy.” Before she could respond, I turned to face her fully. I watched her eyes widen in sheer terror and smiled. Mandy’s hand tightened instinctively around her designer handbag. She had never, in her wildest dreams, expected to see me again. 2. Five years ago, on my way to finally meet my real family, I was in a horrific car crash. I was bleeding out, on the brink of death. She ignored my pleas for help, pried the family locket from my hand, and swore she would live a good life in my place. The cruelest irony? The crash was her fault. I was just collateral damage. I refused to die like that. My ferocious will to live attracted a System, which bound itself to me. It promised I could have my life back, but only if I completed a series of missions across different worlds. That’s when I learned the truth. Mandy was the heroine of a dark romance novel, a story about a woman ruthlessly pursued and possessed. The day of the crash, I had unwittingly rescued her after she’d escaped from the clutches of the story’s unhinged male lead. During the chase, the accident happened. Protected by her protagonist’s plot armor, she walked away without a scratch. I, the disposable side character, was left to die. When I reached out to her, begging for help, she took my locket and my life. She never even considered saving me. Later, after altering her appearance, she used my locket to take my place, becoming the cherished daughter of the Anderson family. But she couldn’t escape the grasp of the possessive psycho, Kian Shaw. She claimed she wanted revenge for me, but she was constantly entangled with him, even using the affections of my kind-hearted uncle to make Kian jealous. Kian was a monster. My uncle became a target of his rage, and after surviving one ‘accident’ after another, he was finally left with both his legs broken. A brilliant man, a rising star, was dragged into the mud overnight. The Anderson family, for disapproving of Mandy and Kian’s twisted relationship, was eventually destroyed, left bankrupt and broken. And through it all, the two of them faced no consequences. Instead, their “struggles” only made their bond stronger. They found their happily-ever-after. My family and I were nothing but stepping stones on their path to true love. 3. But now, just as their story was beginning, I was back. And without the Anderson family fortune, Mandy was nothing more than Kian’s caged bird. Mandy stared at my face, speechless. She had no defense, no argument. She had never planned for the dead to return. “It’s been years,” I said, slowly walking toward her, my tone one of feigned surprise. “I never thought you’d not only take my name, Miss Mandy, but even change your face to look a little like me.” “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—” CRACK! The sharp sound of my palm connecting with her cheek cut her off. Her head snapped to the side. “A slap for a life saved. I’d say we’re even, wouldn’t you, Mandy?” I said with a sneer, rubbing my wrist. I had saved an ungrateful snake. Mandy closed her eyes in humiliation, her voice hoarse. “I deserved that. We’re square now, Luna. From now on, we owe each other nothing.” “Mom, Dad, Grandpa… I’m so sorry.” She bowed deeply to them, but they all stepped away, leaving her bent over in the empty space. Her body went rigid. “We have only one daughter,” my mother said, her voice laced with a venom I knew well, “and we cannot accept such a grand gesture from you, Miss Mandy.” The truth had sunk in, and love had curdled into hate. The precious daughter she had searched for tirelessly was a fraud, the woman who had stood by and watched her real daughter die. “I know nothing I say can make you forgive me, but for all these years, I truly thought of you as my own parents…” Mandy looked at my mother, her face a mask of hurt, desperately searching for a flicker of pity or affection. She was disappointed. There was nothing but disgust and loathing. Suddenly, there was a commotion at the door, and a man burst into the room. “They dared to lay a hand on you?!” A voice, thick with rage, echoed through the hall. It was Kian Shaw; he hadn’t left. His dark, predatory eyes swept over every person in the room. 4. “Kian, I’m fine.” The moment she saw him, her protector, Mandy’s eyes filled with tears, as if she finally had a place to pour out all her grievances. “Was it you?” Kian’s gaze immediately locked onto me, a stranger. I met his glare with a fearless smile. “What if it was? She took it willingly.” My words made Mandy flinch. “You’re asking to die!” Enraged, Kian lunged for me, his hands reaching for my throat. Before anyone could react, something flashed through the air. A sharp kick sent him flying, and he crashed to the floor in a heap. All those missions in all those other worlds weren’t for nothing. I had faced men far stronger and crazier than Kian. I had trained in martial arts, cultivated spiritual powers, and even killed. The thought that he could intimidate me with sheer aggression was a joke. Kian curled on the ground, groaning in pain. Mandy rushed to his side, her face etched with concern. “Kian, are you okay? Don’t scare me,” she cried, her voice trembling. Then, she turned her fury on me. “Luna! Don’t you go too far! I’ve given you everything back, the whole Anderson family! Why do you have to hurt Kian?” The hatred in her eyes was palpable. She had conveniently forgotten that Kian was the one who attacked me first. “Don’t make me laugh, Mandy,” I scoffed, looking down at her. “The clothes on your back, the jewelry you’re wearing, the very floor you’re standing on—what part of it isn’t from the Anderson family?” Her face went pale. She glanced down at her expensive outfit, all her dark, hidden desires exposed under my gaze. “You’ve already cashed in. Don’t pretend you’re above it all now.” I ignored the turmoil in her mind and took a slow step toward her. “What do you want?” Mandy flinched, her body recoiling in fear. Just then, Kian stirred, glaring at me with pure hatred. “Bitch!” he spat. With a cold smile, I stomped my heel onto his wrist. A strangled cry of pain escaped his lips, and cold sweat beaded on his forehead. 5. “If you can’t learn to speak properly, then perhaps you should just shut up,” I said, grinding my heel into his wrist. “Ah! Luna, you bitch! I’ll kill you! I swear I’ll kill you!” Kian’s eyes were bloodshot, his face contorted in a mask of madness. Unfazed, I applied more pressure. “Stop! Luna, stop! You’re going to break his hand!” Mandy was frantic, screaming at me to stop but not daring to come near me. She was terrified I’d kick her just like I’d kicked Kian. “Mom, please, I’m begging you, make her stop! Kian and I will leave, we’ll never appear before you again, please, Mom…” Unable to stop me, Mandy turned to my mother for help. But my mother only gave her a single, dismissive glance before looking away. Mandy’s heart sank. She turned her pleading eyes to my father, my brother, my grandfather, everyone in the room. No one would help her. Just as despair consumed her, the front door opened again. A clear, youthful voice filled the air. “Do we have guests? Why is it so noisy?” Everyone’s attention snapped to the doorway. A young man stood there, taking in the chaotic scene with a look of utter confusion. For Mandy, it was as if a savior had appeared. “Rick! Help me!” she cried, tears streaming down her face, clinging to the name of Rick Anderson like a final lifeline. Rick immediately sensed that something was deeply wrong, but after living with her for so many years, his expression softened. 6. “Mandy, what’s wrong?” “Rick, she is not your sister.” My mother stepped forward, pulling him away from the scene. Rick froze. “Your only sister is Luna. An imposter, an ungrateful wretch, is not worthy of you calling her ‘sister’.” The more my mother thought about it, the deeper her resentment grew. Her real daughter had performed an act of kindness only to be betrayed and have her life stolen. If I hadn’t returned today, they would have been deceived for who knows how long. The faint, easy smile on Rick’s face vanished. “No, that’s not it, Rick, I just… I just thought…” Mandy’s rebuttal was weak. How could she possibly explain it? That she stole my identity because she was afraid my family would be heartbroken? Or that she was fulfilling my dying wish to be reunited with them? No matter how she spun it, her actions were anything but noble. “Mandy, don’t bother explaining to him,” Kian snarled, forcing himself up. He couldn’t stand seeing her so subservient. “I’ll remember this humiliation. The Anderson family… I won’t let a single one of them off the hook!” “You’re still involved with this mad dog?” Rick’s brow furrowed. He knew Kian. He remembered the countless times Mandy had come to their uncle, pale and terrified, begging for help to escape him. Yet after all the trouble their family went through for her, she always ended up back in Kian’s arms. Faced with Rick’s question, Mandy looked away, uncomfortable. She didn’t want this, but… Kian was the only person in the world who truly loved her. His methods were just a little… extreme. Seeing her expression, I knew exactly what she was thinking. “You have no taste,” Rick scoffed, clearly having no intention of getting involved. “Rick…” Mandy was shocked. The little brother who had always been so close to her had turned on her so quickly. 7. CRACK. The sickening crunch drew everyone’s attention. I rubbed my nose nonchalantly. “Oops. Didn’t control my strength.” Kian’s hand was bent at an unnatural angle. Mandy was frozen in shock. “There’s still time to get to a hospital,” I offered helpfully. “But if you insist on staying here to trade threats, I can’t guarantee the safety of his other hand.” He was trespassing. This was simply self-defense. That day, Kian and Mandy retreated in utter disgrace. The Anderson family immediately convened a major family meeting. Everyone was present, except for my uncle, who was still abroad. My identity was officially confirmed. What surprised me was their reaction. This wasn’t the typical high-society family I’d imagined, ashamed of having been fooled and trying to cover it up to save face. Instead, they threw a grand, lavish party to announce to the world that I, Luna Anderson, was the true and only heiress. The acceptance from their social circle was far greater than I expected. Then again, the only people invited were from families with deep ties to the Andersons, those who wouldn’t stir up controversy. At the party, I finally met the man I’d heard so much about: my uncle, Elias Anderson. Dressed in an elegant black suit, he stood out from the crowd, a faint, charming smile on his lips. He was the picture of sophistication. Suddenly, someone whispered something to him. He raised an eyebrow in surprise, and then his gaze shot directly across the room, locking with mine. 8. In the instant our eyes met, a silent, cryptic message passed between us. I smiled with intrigue and drained my glass of red wine. I don’t know how Mandy managed to sneak into the party. Perhaps it was her protagonist’s plot armor at work. As my grandfather took the stage to officially announce my identity, she hid in a corner, her eyes red with unshed tears. I felt a stare and my gaze swept the room, landing easily on her. In the original story, when she returned as me, there was no grand introduction like this. My grandfather, guided by some deep-seated intuition, had always been suspicious of her. But the secret DNA test he’d run had come back positive, confirming she was a Anderson. Of course, that was Kian’s doing. He’d tampered with the results. It’s why, after the Anderson family fell, my grandfather was the first person Kian eliminated after my uncle. “Miss Mandy, are you here to witness the ceremony?” I called out, my voice carrying across the hall. If she was going to be here, she wasn’t going to hide. My words drew everyone’s attention, and a wave of whispers followed as people searched for her. “How dare she show up?” “Did the Andersons just let her go?” “I heard she’s still tangled up with that psycho, Kian Shaw.” “She’s not here to cause a scene, is she?” Some of the younger, more impatient guests pointed her out, and soon she was exposed to everyone’s view. She was no longer the radiant, confident Anderson heiress. Dressed in a simple, thin white dress, she looked frail and weak, a wilting jasmine flower. At my words, she bit her lip in humiliation, her eyes red-rimmed, a picture of pitiable vulnerability. But no one here was a lovesick fool like Kian. No one was going to step up and defend her just because she looked sad. 9. “Miss Anderson, you don’t have to be so aggressive,” she said, her voice trembling but clear. “Grandpa isn’t well. I just wanted to see him. Even if my identity was a lie, after all these years… I’ve come to see them as my real family.” Her words were crafted to paint her as a sentimental, devoted person who had done nothing truly evil besides steal an identity. She made it seem like I was the villain, not only taking her beloved family away but also forcing my ailing grandfather to throw a party for me, all while bullying her relentlessly. I almost fell for her twisted logic. But then, my grandfather, a figure of immense authority, spoke from the stage. “Don’t you worry about me, Miss Mandy. This old man is as healthy as a horse. My real granddaughter is home, and I couldn’t be happier. It’s a joy to do this for her.” “Grandpa…” Finally, a tear rolled down Mandy’s cheek. Her body swayed, as if a strong wind might blow her away. “I am not your grandfather.” The authority in his voice was absolute, a warning no one dared to challenge. But weakness often inspires sympathy. “Grandpa, she does have a point,” I said, my voice sweet and clear. “And I should thank her. Thank her for taking my locket when I was on the brink of death, for taking my place by my parents’ side, and for sparing them the pain of losing a daughter.” My words ripped away her mask of hypocrisy. Every selfish motive was laid bare. A truly kind person would not have hidden the truth for years, burying the death of the real heiress while shamelessly enjoying all the privileges that came with her name. Mandy’s expression flickered through a dozen emotions until her eyes finally found him: my uncle, Elias Anderson. “Uncle Elias, do you believe me? I truly meant no harm,” she pleaded, her voice choked with sobs. As if parting the sea, the crowd shifted, creating a direct path between her and Elias. I watched him closely. When he heard her call his name, his body went rigid. For a split second, something imperceptible shifted within him. And sure enough, his next words confirmed my suspicion. “Of course I believe you,” he said, his voice ringing with conviction. “No matter what anyone else thinks, Mandy, I will always be on your side.”

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In the heart of Westmere, inside Obsidian, the city’s most exclusive nightclub, my sister was shoved onto the center stage. Below, a pack of men jeered, each one brandishing a blood-stained hotel sheet as they argued. “It was me! I was the one in her room last night!” “Bullshit! I was definitely the first one in there!” “Get lost, it was me!” My sister’s face was ashen, her eyes wide with disbelief as she stared at the man sitting on a throne-like chair in the center of it all—her fiancé. “Marcus,” she pleaded, her voice trembling. “I’m your fiancée. How could you do this to me?” Marcus Thorne leaned down and pressed a kiss to the lips of the delicate woman curled in his lap before casting a cold glance at my sister. “A slut who doesn’t even know who she spent the night with has the nerve to question me?” The woman in his arms giggled, her eyes dripping with contempt as she looked at my sister. I sat in a shadowed booth across the room, the fury in my eyes as sharp as a blade. I’d only been out of the country for three years, and someone already had the audacity to lay a hand on a Blackwood? 1 My assistant, standing beside me, wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. His voice was laced with reverent fear. “Ms. Blackwood, I’ll summon the owner of this club at once. He will answer to you for this.” A cold sneer touched my lips. “No need. Just have our people surround this place. Not even a fly gets out.” He bowed. “As you wish.” Touch my sister? I’ll make sure you don’t live to see the sunrise. Tears streamed down my sister Uta’s pale face. “Marcus, it was just you and me last night! How could there have been other men in the room?” The woman, Isla Vance, snuggled deeper into Marcus’s arms, covering her mouth in a mock giggle. “Oh, darling, you’re hilarious. Marcus was with me all night. How could he possibly have been with you? It seems to me you wanted a more… exciting first time. One man just wasn’t enough for you, was it?” Uta froze, muttering in a daze. “That’s impossible. Marcus gave me the room key himself. We had a candlelit dinner last night…” Her words trailed off. She looked up, her gaze locking onto Marcus, her entire body trembling with rage. “It was you. You drugged my drink, and then you called them…” Marcus simply arched an eyebrow, unconcerned. A moment later, a short video clip flashed onto the massive screen behind the stage. It was my sister, Uta, sprawled on a bed, barely clothed. With a smirk, Marcus pulled a USB drive from his pocket and tossed it onto the table. “Alright, gentlemen! The winner of tonight’s little wager—whoever can prove they were the one to take Uta Blackwood’s virginity—gets a little bonus prize: the full, unedited video from last night!” Every man in the club stared at the screen like a wolf sighting its prey, their eyes burning with lust. “Even that short clip was incredible. I can’t imagine how wild the full version is!” “Girls from high society are just different. Even their screams sound better!” I watched the screen, my body shaking with a fury so cold it burned. When Marcus and my sister were first engaged, his family was nothing, not even a footnote compared to the Blackwood empire. If Uta hadn’t been so in love with him, my parents would have never approved the match. Where did this insect get the gall to treat my sister this way? My face a mask of stone, I sent a text to my assistant, ordering him to investigate everything. Meanwhile, the men in the club were throwing stacks of cash onto the tables, barking out their bets like rabid dogs. My sister was curled into a ball in the corner of the stage, her eyes glazed over, numb to the horror unfolding around her. “All bets in?” Marcus asked, leaning back into the sofa with a lazy yawn. The club manager, after counting the money on the table, looked up in confusion. “The bets are in, Mr. Thorne, but… how do we determine who actually took Miss Blackwood’s virginity last night?” Marcus grinned. “It was only last night. The evidence should still be there. A simple examination will tell us everything, won’t it?” He clapped his hands. “Bring them in!” Several men in white lab coats walked onto the stage. They moved to grab Uta, their intention clear: they were going to strip her right there. The men in the crowd craned their necks, their faces alight with sick anticipation. Terrified, Uta snatched a pair of tweezers from one of the men’s hands and pointed it at them, her voice a shrill scream. “Stay back! Do you have any idea who I am? If you touch me, I’ll make sure every single one of you is dead by morning!” She was dead serious, but to everyone else, it was just the desperate struggle of a cornered animal. Isla Vance was the first to laugh. “Oh, honey. Do you really still think you’re the untouchable princess of the Blackwood family?” She stepped forward and pinched Uta’s cheek, her long nails digging into my sister’s delicate skin, drawing blood. “The Blackwoods are finished! Besides, this club belongs to my dear ‘brother,’ Donovan Croft. In here, you’re nothing.” Donovan Croft? He was one of my father’s most trusted men. If this was his club, how could he possibly allow my sister to be humiliated like this? And since when was the Blackwood family “finished”? Marcus wrapped an arm around Isla’s waist, cooing softly. “Don’t waste your time arguing with her, darling. The priority is to find out who was lucky enough to be her first.” He shot a sharp look at the men in lab coats. “What are you waiting for? Get on with it.” They descended on Uta again, pinning her down. They tore at her trousers, and just as they were about to rip away her last layer of clothing, the manager’s voice cut through the noise, filled with panic. “Wait!” 2 Everyone froze. The men in white coats paused, their hands hovering over my sister. The manager scrambled onto the stage, his hands trembling as he picked up a black card that had fallen from Uta’s pocket. Sweat instantly beaded on his forehead. “This is… a Centurion Card?!” The name rippled through the crowd, followed by a wave of shocked murmurs. “What? A Centurion Black Card?” “There’s only one person in the entire country who has that card. They say she’s a legend, a ghost, someone who could destroy a family with the snap of her fingers. How did Uta Blackwood get it?!” Marcus stared at the card, his pupils constricting as his face darkened. The manager, drenched in a cold sweat, quickly dialed a number on the club’s private line. “Mr. Croft, I have a guest here who is in possession of a Centurion Card. I believe you’ll want to come down personally.” A few moments later, the private elevator from the penthouse opened, but it wasn’t Donovan who stepped out. It was a woman I recognized—his executive assistant, Jenna. “Mr. Croft was delayed with some business,” Jenna announced with a practiced, professional smile. “He sent me down to receive our honored guest.” She was about to take the card from the manager when Isla interrupted with a dismissive scoff. “If I’d known a little card would cause such a fuss, I would have pulled mine out sooner.” Isla reached into her purse and produced a black card of her own, holding it delicately between two fingers and waving it in front of Jenna. The crowd gasped. The card in Isla’s hand was also a Centurion. “I am the holder of the Centurion Card,” Isla declared, sneering at my sister. “What right does she have to possess one? It’s obviously a fake.” Jenna took Isla’s card, examining it for a moment before her expression shifted into one of fawning subservience. “Miss Vance’s card is authentic!” she proclaimed. Then, she turned to my sister, her eyes filled with disgust. “Miss Blackwood, not just anyone can have a card like this. There’s no need to resort to cheap forgeries to feed your vanity.” Uta shook her head, her words tumbling out in a rush. “Impossible! My sister gave me this card. It can’t be fake! My sister is Aurora Blackwood!” Isla let out a sharp, mocking laugh. “Aurora Blackwood? Darling, I know every major player in this city. I’ve never heard that name in my life.” Jenna crossed her arms, watching the scene with smug amusement. “Since Miss Vance is our most distinguished guest, this little matter concerning Miss Blackwood has nothing to do with Mr. Croft. Please, continue.” The quiet crowd erupted once more. “Hurry up with the test! I’ve got a million riding on this!” “I’m adding another half a million! It was me!” The men in white coats closed in again, their hands reaching for the last piece of fabric protecting my sister’s dignity. My assistant hadn’t returned yet, but I couldn’t wait another second. “Get your hands off her!” I rose from my booth, my voice cracking like a whip. I strode to the stage, and while the men were still stunned by my sudden appearance, I pulled Uta down, wrapping my own coat around her and helping her dress. Isla stared at me, her face contorted with rage. “Who the hell are you? Do you have any idea what the consequences are for causing trouble on Mr. Croft’s territory?” I shielded my sister behind me, my voice as cold as ice. “Aurora Blackwood. Eldest daughter of the Blackwood family.” 3 The moment the words left my mouth, the club erupted in laughter, as if I had told the most ridiculous joke in the world. “Aurora Blackwood? You’ve got to be kidding me. The Aurora Blackwood is a legend in this city, a ghost who can move heaven and earth. But she hasn’t been seen in years. The rumor is she died overseas. You’re not going to tell us that’s you, are you?” “But wait, her last name is Blackwood. Could she really be from that family?” “No way. The Blackwoods only have one daughter!” Isla giggled, covering her mouth. “Uta, where did you hire this imposter? The acting is terrible. How dare she pretend to be Aurora Blackwood.” I looked at her as if she were already dead. It was true that, to the outside world, Uta was the only Blackwood daughter. As the designated heir, my identity had been a closely guarded secret. I was raised in seclusion, trained to take over, my existence known to only a handful of people. “Uta, haven’t you embarrassed yourself enough tonight? Get this fake out of here!” Marcus scowled at us, his expression one of utter disgust. My sister clutched my sleeve, her eyes filled with worry. I patted her hand reassuringly, my gaze shifting to Marcus, now filled with a lethal sharpness. “You are not worthy of speaking to me,” I said, my voice dangerously low. “Where is Donovan Croft? Tell him to get his ass down here!” Isla looked me up and down with a sneer. “You actually have the attitude down, I’ll give you that. But it’s a shame. If the real Aurora Blackwood had returned, the entire city’s elite would be in an uproar. How could there be not so much as a whisper?” The fury inside me burned hotter. “I said, you are not qualified to speak to me. Get Donovan Croft down here. Now.” Isla rolled her eyes dismissively. “You think you can summon Mr. Croft on a whim? Since you’ve got such a big mouth, don’t blame me for teaching an imposter like you a lesson!” She turned to the leering men in the club. “Grab her! Teach her a lesson for me. If I’m satisfied with your work, there will be a generous reward!” “Don’t worry, Miss Vance, we’ll make sure she learns the power of a real man!” “She said she’s Uta’s sister. Let’s give her a taste of what her sister went through last night!” The men surged forward, their faces twisted with greed. “Who gave you the nerve to touch me?” My voice was glacial. As the first man reached for me, a slender knife appeared in my hand, and I slashed it across his face. “Aaargh!” he screamed, clutching his bleeding cheek. “Get her! Kill that bitch!” A dozen of them swarmed me at once. One of them saw an opening and grabbed me by the throat, his face a mask of rage. “You slut! You dare to cut me? I’ll show you the price for laying a hand on me!” The others closed in, some even pulling out their phones to record. Uta tried to throw herself over me, to protect me, but Isla grabbed her by the hair. “Still playing the loving sisters act with this fake? After I’m done with her, you’re next!” Tears streamed down Uta’s face. She grabbed at Isla’s dress, her voice a desperate, broken plea. “Don’t touch my sister. Let her go. I’ll let you do the test!” Isla kicked her to the ground with a look of disgust. “Oh, we’re going to test you, alright. And we’re going to deal with this imposter. Unless…” A cruel smile twisted Isla’s lips. “Unless you get on your knees and bow to me. Keep going until I’m satisfied, and maybe, just maybe, I’ll consider letting your fake sister go.” Uta turned to Marcus, who was watching the scene with cold indifference. She gritted her teeth. “My sister is the powerful figure you’re all talking about. If you hurt her…” Marcus just laughed. “Enough of this crap! Start bowing! If you don’t, I’ll have them do your sister right here, right now!” Isla looked down at Uta like she was an ant. A bitter, broken laugh escaped Uta’s lips. “Fine. I’ll do it.” She knelt. And she began to bow, slamming her forehead against the hard floor again and again. “Please,” she sobbed, “let my sister go…” Her forehead was bruised, swollen, and bleeding, but Isla didn’t tell her to stop. My heart ached with a pain so sharp I could barely breathe. I tried to stand, to stop this, but I was pinned down, helpless. Every thud of my sister’s head against the floor was like a needle plunging into my heart. My Uta, who I had sheltered and adored her entire life, had never suffered a moment of humiliation like this. My assistant should have been back by now. What was taking so long? Isla yawned, bored. “Alright, alright. Stop.” A flicker of hope lit up Uta’s pale face. “Does that mean you’ll let my sister go?” Isla laughed at her naivety. “I said I’d consider it. And I have. My decision is… no.” “You—!” Uta launched herself at Isla like a feral animal, but Marcus kicked her away before she could even get close. “You touch my sister again,” I roared, a sharp pain lancing through my chest, “and I swear I will kill you.” Isla strode over to me. A flash of jealousy crossed her face as she looked at me, and then she clamped her hand around my throat. “Fine. Then I’ll start with you.” “No!” Uta screamed in panic. “If you hurt my sister, when Donovan gets here, he won’t let you off!” Isla laughed coldly. “You really think the Blackwoods are what they used to be? You have no power to threaten me!” She picked up the knife I had dropped and pressed the cold steel against my neck. Just as she was about to press down, the doors to the private penthouse elevator slid open. Donovan Croft stepped out, flanked by an army of guards in black suits. When he saw Isla holding a knife to my throat, a trickle of blood already seeping from the cut, his face instantly turned black as night.

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It took Leo Vance two years of relentless pursuit to finally wear me down. Two years to pry me from the life I knew and make me his. Once we were together, his possessiveness was a beautiful, suffocating storm. Then came the crash. He lost his memory, and I lost him. I fled, seeking refuge in a new city, a new life. Five years later, fate, in its cruel way, threw us back together. The more our paths crossed, the darker and more inscrutable his gaze became whenever he looked at me. Finally, he cornered me, the question burning in his eyes. “Are you married?” “I am,” I lied. He took a few seconds to absorb the blow, his jaw tight. “And your husband?” he pressed. “Forgive me for being blunt, but a man who doesn’t cherish his wife and child isn’t a man at all. Is getting a divorce an option? Because I’d like to marry you.” 1. I stood just outside the hospital room, the space inside already crowded with Leo’s friends. Their voices muffled through the door. “Leo, buddy, I know this is going to sound insane, but every word is the God’s honest truth,” one of them said, his voice earnest. “You have a girlfriend. You’ve been together for almost six months. And man, you fought for her. Poached her from another guy after a two-year campaign.” Leo’s disbelief was palpable even from the hallway. I could picture him, head cocked, scanning the faces of his friends for the punchline. But every single one of them nodded in solemn confirmation. Just when they thought he might be convinced, his voice cut through the room, laced with incredulous laughter. “Wait, you’re telling me I became that guy? A homewrecker? For some woman?” He scoffed. “Get real. I’m not the marrying kind. I’m not even the ‘girlfriend’ kind.” A collective groan went through the room. His friends, undeterred, launched into a chaotic, overlapping narrative, painting a vivid picture of his obsessive quest to win me over—the extravagant gestures, the sleepless nights, the sheer, unrelenting effort it took. But no matter how detailed their stories, Leo remained unconvinced. “Alright, guys, very funny,” he said, waving them off. “I lost my memory, I didn’t lose my mind. Besides,” he added, a note of self-satisfaction in his voice, “I have more integrity than that. I’d never go after one of my own buddy’s girlfriends.” A bitter laugh escaped my lips before I could stop it. He really had no idea who he was, did he? 2. Just as I was about to push the door open, a woman with a perfectly coiffed helmet of hair and a Chanel suit appeared, flanked by two imposing men in black. “Julia?” she asked, her voice as crisp as a winter morning. “Yes.” She didn’t waste time with pleasantries. “I’m Leo’s mother.” Her eyes swept over me, a quick, dismissive appraisal. “Leo is awake. Fortunately, he’s fine. He’s just forgotten a few… insignificant people and things.” She pressed down on the word “insignificant,” her disdain for me a tangible thing. “So, let’s talk numbers. How much will it take for you to leave my son for good?” She pulled a platinum card from her designer handbag and tossed it onto a nearby table. “A million dollars. Is that enough?” “Take it,” she commanded, “and disappear. Don’t ever let him see you again.” My voice trembled. “Why? Just yesterday, he was…” “Yesterday?” she scoffed, cutting me off. “Yesterday doesn’t matter. What matters is that now, he has no idea who you are. You are a complete stranger. Leo needs a partner from a suitable family, someone who can advance our name. Not a piece of trouble who almost got him killed.” Her gaze was like ice, making me feel like something she’d found on the bottom of her shoe. “Now, take the money and vanish quietly,” she ordered, her voice leaving no room for argument. “Or I’ll be forced to use other means to teach you your place.” The bodyguards took a step forward, their presence a silent, looming threat. I stumbled back, my heart hammering against my ribs. Seeing my terrified silence, a cruel smirk touched her lips. “Fine. I’ll give you a chance to see for yourself.” She produced a photograph from her purse. Before I could process what was happening, she had dragged me back to the doorway and pushed the door open. She held the photo out to Leo. “Darling, have you ever seen this woman? They say she’s your girlfriend.” I watched, my breath caught in my throat, as Leo shook his head, a playful grin on his face. “Mom, you too? What’s with all the jokes today?” he said lightly. “I can guarantee you, I’ve never laid eyes on her in my life.” His mother’s lips curved into a triumphant smile. She shot me a look over her shoulder, a final, victorious dismissal. My fingers closed around the cold plastic of the card she’d shoved into my hand. The dam broke. Tears streamed down my face, hot and silent. Inside the room, the conversation continued as if I didn’t exist. “The Sheffield girl, Isabelle, is quite taken with you,” his mother said. “We should start planning the engagement party.” Leo didn’t hesitate. “I have no objections. You handle it.” I don’t remember how I left the hospital. I stumbled back to my apartment and collapsed against the door, sliding down to the floor. My shoulders shook with violent, silent sobs, the tears blurring the world into a watercolor mess. It had all happened too fast, too brutally. Just yesterday, I was dreaming of the moment I’d tell him I was pregnant, picturing him lifting me up and spinning me around in pure joy. And today, he was gone. He remembered everyone, except me. I once asked him, teasingly, if he’d remember me if he ever got amnesia. He’d kissed me then, deep and sure. “Even if I forgot your name,” he’d promised, “my heart would recognize you the second I saw you. I would fall for you all over again.” He was a liar. 3. It was my fifth year of raising our son alone in Port Blossom. I saw the news online: Leo Vance, heir to the Vance Corporation, was officially engaged to Isabelle Sheffield. A handsome couple, the picture of perfection. I didn’t have time for heartbreak. My son, Finn, had a fever. I was standing in the pouring rain, desperately trying to hail a cab to the hospital. And just like that, in a twist of cosmic cruelty, he was there. St. Jude was over a thousand miles from Port Blossom. I had no idea why he would be here, at this hospital, at this exact moment. Seeing him, the fragile thread of composure I held onto snapped. I wanted to march up to him, to scream, to demand answers. But then another woman appeared at his side—beautiful, elegant, laughing at something he’d said. A small, genuine smile touched Leo’s lips. They were in their own world, a bubble no one could penetrate. My stare must have been too intense. He turned his head, and our eyes met across the rain-streaked entrance. Panic seized me. I spun away, clutching Finn tighter, and hurried past them. As I rushed by, I heard her voice, light and curious, drift after me. “Why were you staring at her like that?” And then his, low and thoughtful. “I don’t know. She just… looks incredibly familiar.” I walked faster, my only thought to disappear. 4. Two days later, Finn was begging to go to the park. I relented, hoping the fresh air would do us both good. I shouldn’t have been surprised when I saw him again. “Mommy! Mommy!” Finn tugged on my sleeve, pulling me from my daze. “What is it, sweetie?” I tore my gaze away from Leo, who was walking a magnificent Golden Retriever. Finn’s eyes were wide with delight, instantly captivated. “Mommy, a big doggy!” he squealed. “Can Finn pet him? Please?” Finn. I’d named him that hoping his life would be simple and straightforward, unlike mine. It was the greatest wish I had for him. I knelt down to his level. “Not without asking the owner first, honey,” I said softly, stroking his hair. “But look, there’s a man selling candy apples over there. How about we get one of those instead?” The candy apple strategy worked. He grabbed my hand and started pulling me in the other direction. We’d only taken a few steps when the Golden Retriever suddenly broke away, bounding towards me, its tail wagging furiously, whining with excitement. I flinched back, startled. Leo’s brow furrowed as he yanked firmly on the leash. “Sorry about that,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “I have no idea why Gia is acting like this. She’s usually so calm.” I scooped Finn into my arms, my eyes fixed on a point just past Leo’s shoulder. “It’s fine,” I mumbled, turning to leave. But his voice stopped me. “Excuse me. Have we met before?” I froze. My heart felt like it had been seized by an icy fist. “No,” I managed to say, the word catching in my throat. “Never.” The scene in the hospital five years ago flashed in my mind—his mother, the photograph, his easy denial. He didn’t know me then. He shouldn’t know me now. I hurried away, clutching my son like a shield. This time, he didn’t try to stop me. 5. On Monday, a work emergency made me late to pick Finn up from preschool. When I finally arrived, I saw a little girl playing with him on the slide. Standing nearby, watching them, was a man in a tailored suit. As I got closer, my stomach dropped. It was Leo. “Uncle Leo,” the little girl’s innocent voice piped up, “do you think Finn’s mommy abandoned him? She’s so late.” She looked up at him with wide, hopeful eyes. “If she doesn’t want him, can I take him home with me?” Leo’s reply was curt. “No.” “Mommy!” Finn spotted me and came running, his little legs pumping. I swept him into a hug, burying my face in his hair. Steeling myself, I turned to Leo. “Thank you for watching him.” “You’re welcome,” he said, his voice polite, formal. But his eyes were a different story. From the moment I’d appeared, his gaze had been locked on me—dark, intense, and searching. It never wavered. “Well, we should get going,” I said, taking Finn’s hand. “Let me give you a ride.” Before I could refuse, the little girl had already dragged Finn towards Leo’s sleek black car. “Come on, Mommy! Hurry up! There are so many toys in here!” I looked at my son, his face alight with excitement, and sighed in defeat. I took the passenger seat, leaving the back for the two children. They chattered and played until they eventually tired themselves out and fell asleep. The car pulled up in front of my apartment building. I reached for my seatbelt, eager to escape the charged silence. “Are you married?” Leo’s voice, quiet in the confined space, made me jump. My own voice was barely a whisper. “Yes.” The ensuing silence was heavy, suffocating. I could feel his gaze on me, probing, dissecting, trying to unravel the mystery I presented. Then, he spoke again, his tone edged with something I couldn’t quite decipher. “So, where is your husband? Why isn’t he the one picking up his son? Why does he leave it all to you?” He paused. “Forgive me for being blunt, but any man who doesn’t cherish his wife and child isn’t worth keeping.” 6. The way he spoke… it was an echo from a lifetime ago. Back when I was with Nathan, Leo would say things just like that. Whenever Nathan didn’t come home, a video would magically appear on Leo’s social media feed—Nathan, arm draped around some other girl at a club. If I ever accidentally ‘liked’ the post, a private message would follow instantly: 【Hey, I’m sure Nathan still loves you.】 【He’s just being a guy, you know? It doesn’t mean anything.】 【Not like me. I’ve never even held a girl’s hand.】 【Don’t worry, though. I’m keeping an eye on him for you.】 He pretended to be a peacemaker, but every word was a perfectly aimed drop of gasoline on a smoldering fire. Eventually, he dropped the pretense. “He doesn’t deserve you, Julia. Give me a chance.” I wasn’t surprised. His intentions had been clear from the start. Under the relentless pressure of his campaign, my relationship with Nathan crumbled. The day we broke up, Leo swept in, a conquering hero claiming his prize. The night I officially became his girlfriend, he had me pinned against the front door, his kisses fierce and possessive. That’s when Nathan, trying to win me back, let himself in. I’d forgotten to delete his fingerprint from the lock. “What the hell are you two doing?!” he’d roared. “Leo! She’s my girlfriend! You’re my best friend!” Leo had just laughed, a low, dangerous sound. “Who ever wanted to be your friend? Besides,” he’d added, his voice dropping, “don’t yell at me. If she didn’t want this, do you think I’d even have a chance?” … He was still the same ruthless, infuriating man. He said the most outrageous things as if they were simple facts. “Is getting a divorce an option? I’d like to marry you, too.” Boom. It felt like something exploded in my head. I snapped my gaze to his, my heart hammering against my ribs. “What did you just say?” The seconds stretched into an eternity as I waited for his answer. “I’m kidding,” he said with a light chuckle. A wave of disappointment, sharp and unwelcome, washed over me. “That’s not funny, Mr. Vance,” I said, my voice flat. I unbuckled my seatbelt again, but the doors remained locked. “Can I have your number?” he asked, his tone shifting. Then he added, with a faux-apologetic air that was anything but, “I assume your husband wouldn’t mind?” My brow tightened. I honestly couldn’t tell if this was a game, or if he truly remembered nothing. “Mr. Vance, I don’t think we have any reason to be in contact.” He was engaged, after all, and I had no desire to be the other woman. I opened the back door, carefully lifted my sleeping son, and walked away without looking back. 7. Life settled into a fragile peace. For a while, I didn’t see Leo. I tried to convince myself I was over him, that the feelings were long buried. But a few chance encounters had been enough to stir up a storm inside me. I threw myself into my work, taking on two major projects, hoping to bury my thoughts under deadlines and spreadsheets. But then, during a particularly difficult meeting with my boss, the memory of him rose, unbidden. “Julia, I’m so sorry, but Mr. Henderson specifically requested you for this project,” my boss said, his expression pained. He knew as well as I did what a “business meeting” at a private club with a man like Henderson entailed. But the account was too important for our small firm. And I had been the one to pitch for it. I had no choice. That evening, in a dimly lit private lounge thick with the smell of cheap cologne, Mr. Henderson’s hand clamped around my wrist like a vice. “The contract is an easy thing, Ms. Evans,” he slurred, his breath hot and sour. “It all depends on how… accommodating you’re willing to be.” A wave of nausea churned in my stomach. “Let go of me.” His face hardened into an ugly sneer. He raised his other hand. “Don’t play hard to get with me, little girl.” I braced for the slap, but it never came. A hand, lean and powerful with long, elegant fingers, shot out and caught Henderson’s wrist in a grip of steel. Time seemed to freeze. I looked up and met a pair of eyes as deep and dark as a starless night. Leo. His face was a blank mask, but the muscle ticking in his clenched jaw promised a storm. “Henderson,” he said, his voice dangerously low. “Getting bold, are we? Causing trouble in my establishment.” The next thing I knew, Henderson was on his knees, sputtering apologies. “A misunderstanding, Mr. Vance! Just a joke, a terrible joke!” Leo didn’t even glance at him. His entire focus was on the red, angry marks blooming on my wrist. In an instant, the room was empty, save for the two of us. It had been weeks since I’d last seen him. I never imagined our next meeting would be like this. The walls I had so carefully constructed around my heart crumbled into dust, leaving me exposed and humiliated. “Thank you,” I whispered, my voice raw. “Julia,” he said, his tone unreadable. “Is this how you do your job?” I couldn’t tell if it was concern or accusation, but all I felt was shame. I couldn’t meet his eyes, terrified of the disgust I might find there. “It’s none of your concern, Mr. Vance.” I scrubbed at the tears welling in my eyes. “Julia, look at me.” I refused, keeping my head bowed. He knelt in front of me, his warm hand gently cupping the back of my neck, forcing my head up. I looked at him then, my vision swimming with tears of frustration and helplessness. If he hadn’t lost his memory, if he remembered everything, I wouldn’t be in this mess. I wouldn’t be suffering like this. “Why are you crying?” he asked, his voice softer now. My resolve shattered. I threw my arms around his neck and buried my face in his shoulder. Just this once. I would allow myself this one moment of weakness. He stiffened for a second, then his arms came around me, holding me securely. After a long moment, I pulled away, composing myself. “Thank you again,” I said, my voice steady. Leo looked completely baffled by my sudden shift. He stared at me, then a half-smile played on his lips. “What was that, Julia? Use me and toss me aside?” I managed a small, tight smile. “I’m sorry. I mistook you for him.” “Is that so?” he said, his voice laced with a bitter, sarcastic edge. “Then it seems your taste in men is as poor as ever.” I had no comeback for that. He was right about Nathan, and he was right about himself. “You’re right,” I conceded. My agreement seemed to infuriate him more than any argument could have. He turned on his heel and stormed out, slamming the door behind him. A few minutes later, I left too. I stood on the cold street, my phone’s rideshare app endlessly searching for a driver. The wind cut through my thin blouse, and I wrapped my arms around myself. A car screeched to a halt in front of me. The passenger window glided down. “Get in,” Leo ordered, his voice clipped. I had decided after that hug that our paths would never cross again. I ignored him, pretending I hadn’t heard. “I never figured you for a bad mother, Julia,” he said conversationally into the night air. “But I guess you’re just as neglectful as a wife. Poor kid, all alone at home.” “What are you talking about?” I demanded. “Nothing,” he said with a shrug. “Just that it seems I care more about your son’s well-being than his own mother does.” A nerve twitched in my jaw. The audacity of him, acting like he had any right to care. “He’s my son.” The subtext was clear: Stay out of it. Leo was unfazed. “I could be his father, you know.” Under the dim glow of the streetlight, his face was a collage of shadows and light, as uncertain as our future. “You’re joking, Mr. Vance,” I said, shaking my head. He turned to face me fully, his expression deadly serious. “I’m not joking, Julia.” We stared at each other for a long moment, the city’s noise fading into the background. He was the first to look away. “Just get in the car. Your son is probably worried sick.” I wanted to tell him Finn was safe at a friend’s house. But I didn’t. I got in the car.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “394013”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Summer break. I used it as an excuse to move in with my naive roommate, Noah. That’s how I ended up overhearing a conversation between him and his two older brothers. The second brother, Finn, scoffed. “I’m telling you, he’s a little schemer who’d rather crash here than go home. A conniving little bottom.” He said it with such a straight face, you’d never guess he was the one who’d “accidentally” barged into my bathroom last night. Noah jumped to my defense. “Finn, his family doesn’t live in the city. He has nowhere else to go for the summer.” Then the eldest, Sebastian, cut in, his voice like ice. “Pathetic. Is this what you want to be, someone’s lapdog?” I just smiled to myself. Don’t worry. All three of you will be on your knees soon enough. A family should stick together, after all. 1 The voices from the study were sharp and clear. “Sebastian, what are you talking about? Caleb got that injury because of me!” Noah was practically shouting. A second voice, lazy and mocking, followed. It was Finn. “Trust me, my gaydar is never wrong. Caleb is one hundred percent bent. Little bro, don’t tell me… you’ve fallen for him?” He drew out the last word, dripping with insinuation. “What are you talking about? I’m a guy, why would I be into another guy?” Noah sputtered, his voice a mix of anger and embarrassment. “Tsk, what’s the rush? I was just kidding.” “No, you weren’t! You meant every word!” The sharp rap of knuckles on a desk silenced the room. Then came a voice that radiated authority. “Noah. He can stay here. But… he is not interning at the company.” “But Sebastian, why not? I already promised him.” “Because,” Sebastian’s voice was as hard as steel, “I have my doubts about his abilities.” “But he wins the national scholarship every year…” “Enough.” Outside the door, a slow smile spread across my face. The three Sterling brothers. Just as the rumors said, each one a different beast entirely. Sebastian, the eldest, was the iron-fisted CEO of the family empire. I hadn’t even met him yet. Finn, the middle child, had just returned from grad school abroad. A classic playboy with a wild streak. We’d crossed paths twice. And then there was Noah… a delicate flower raised in a greenhouse. Pure, trusting, and so easy to tease he’d blush at the drop of a hat. Interesting. Three very different breeds of puppy. A Doberman, a Beagle, and a Samoyed. I’d heard enough. I turned and headed downstairs to the dining room. 2 During my junior year, I developed a sudden obsession with basketball. It was just my luck that one afternoon, a stray ball came flying out of control and knocked me out cold. The one who carried me to the nurse’s office was Noah. After examining me, the campus doctor delivered the verdict. “A minor concussion. He just needs some rest. However, his right arm hit a tree on the way down. It’s a greenstick fracture. That’ll need a few months to heal…” I looked down at my arm, now mummified in bandages. Tsk. I’d been aiming for a minor scrape, but I might have overplayed my hand. At my bedside, Noah’s face was a mask of guilt. “I’m so sorry! It was my fault!” “It’s nothing,” I said, my voice deliberately weak. “Just a small injury.” “I’m Noah Sterling. I’m a freshman in the investment program. You are?” “Caleb Shaw. Finance, junior year.” “I’m so sorry, Caleb. I’ll take full responsibility for this!” “The arm will be fine. It’s just… my coursework…” “I’ll handle it,” he declared, his voice firm. A secret smile played on my lips. Hook, line, and sinker. The innocent little puppy had just volunteered to do my homework for the entire semester. My dedication to watching every single one of his games under the blazing sun had finally paid off. “Caleb, can I get your number?” As soon as he scanned the QR code, he looked surprised. “Hey, we’re already friends on here.” The chat history was completely blank. “Really?” I blinked, feigning innocence. “I must have added you from the freshman orientation group.” He nodded, completely buying it. For the next few weeks, he became my personal caretaker. He fed me every meal, spoonful by spoonful. He fed me fruit, piece by piece. Noah’s fingers were long and pale. He held a single grape to my lips. “Caleb, my family had these Muscadine grapes flown in. Try one.” I leaned in, my lips “accidentally” brushing against his fingertips as I gently took the grape between my teeth. “Caleb! You… you bit my hand…” A blush instantly spread from his neck to the tips of his ears. “Oh?” My teeth grazed the soft pad of his finger for a teasing moment before I pulled back. “Sorry about that.” “No… it’s fine! We’re both guys…” He was so flustered he couldn’t even look at me, his eyes darting all over the room. To make it “easier” to take care of me, he even requested a transfer to my dorm. He spent two months doting on me before summer break finally arrived. When he overheard me worrying about finding a summer internship, his eyes lit up. “Caleb, why don’t you stay at my place? You can intern at my brother’s company!” Seeing my feigned hesitation, he puffed out his chest. “Don’t worry, my brothers are really easy to get along with.” Worried? You sweet, dumb puppy. It’s exactly what I was hoping for. 3 The dining table was already laden with food. I had just washed my hands and taken a seat when Noah’s dejected voice drifted down from the stairs. “Caleb.” I looked up. Noah was there in his basketball shorts, looking like a burst of energy, but he had two others with him. The one in the trendy grey sweatshirt with a playful smirk had to be Finn. And the man next to him, impeccably dressed in a suit and radiating an aura as cold as a glacier, could only be Sebastian. I stood up and greeted them with a bright, clear voice. “Sebastian. Finn.” Finn ignored me, letting out a low whistle as he sat down across from me. Noah pulled out the chair to my right. “Caleb,” he whispered, “don’t mind my brother. He’s like that with everyone, even me.” I gave Noah a reassuring smile. I doubt that. He’s the one who called me a schemer. If you ask me, he’s the one with the most tricks up his sleeve in this entire house. My gaze drifted across the table and met Sebastian’s scrutinizing eyes. Our eyes locked. His voice was devoid of any warmth. “You’re Caleb Shaw?” “I am,” I replied. “Have we met before?” It was posed as a question, but it sounded like a statement. Before I could answer, Noah expertly placed a piece of shrimp in my bowl. “Sebastian, how would you have met Caleb? I thought you were only face-blind with women. Since when did that extend to men…?” Sebastian’s gaze remained fixed on my face, as if waiting for my answer. I smiled. “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure, Sebastian.” “Is that so?” “Yes. It’s rare for a student like me to cross paths with someone of your… stature.” Finn, who had been focused on his food, let out a snort. “Suck-up.” I just kept smiling. Great. You just had to open your mouth. You’ll be the first one I deal with. Noah glared at him. “Finn, can’t you just eat and shut up for once?” Finn just shrugged and went back to his food. Finally, Sebastian looked away. I focused on my meal, but I could still feel his probing gaze on me, a persistent, lingering touch. 4 After dinner, Sebastian was the first to leave, heading back to his study. The prickling sensation on my back vanished, and I let out a quiet sigh of relief. But a second later, Finn aimed his next jab at me. “So, Caleb. Didn’t manage to find a girlfriend in college?” I tilted my head, pretending to think. “No time,” I said, drawing out the words. “I was too busy studying.” “Oh?” Finn’s eyebrow arched. “Too busy studying, but you still had time to go watch basketball games?” “It’s all about a healthy work-life balance, Finn.” Finn pouted. Noah jumped in. “Caleb, just ignore him. My brother was out drinking until he blacked out last night. He’s still not all there.” My eyes curved into crescents, my smile perfectly harmless. “It’s fine. As long as… he doesn’t ‘accidentally’ walk into my bathroom again.” The playful smirk on Finn’s face froze. A dark flush crept up from his neck, visible even in the dim light. Well, well. I thought his skin was as thick as a brick wall. Who knew he could actually blush? Noah leaned in, shocked. “Finn, you drank that much last night? You couldn’t even find your own room?” Finn slammed his chopsticks down and coughed twice. “It was an accident.” “Caleb, you should lock your door from now on,” Noah advised earnestly. “Who knows, one of these days he might try to steal your bed!” I just hummed in agreement, not saying another word. As I finished the last bite of food on my plate, Noah looked at me, his voice full of guilt. “Caleb, about the internship… I’ll try talking to Sebastian again.” Finn, wiping his mouth with a napkin, cut in coolly. “Save your breath. Once Sebastian makes a decision, he never changes his mind.” “Never?” I looked at Finn, a knowing smile playing on my lips. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” 5 That evening, I went for a jog with Noah around the neighborhood track. Afterward, he went to find Sebastian in his study, determined to plead my case one more time. I went back to my room for a shower. The warm water cascaded over my body. I closed my eyes, letting the droplets run down my face. I lathered up the body wash, my hands moving slowly over my skin. Click. The bathroom door swung open without a sound. “Want to join me?” I asked, my voice lazy and laced with steam, without even turning my head. “Finn.” The person behind me was silent for two beats. “…How did you know it was me?” I calmly turned the shower back on. The bathroom filled with hot, thick steam. Through the mist, I looked at the man leaning against the doorframe. “Because,” I chuckled, “you’re the only one here who deserves to be called a ‘schemer.’” A flicker of surprise crossed Finn’s eyes. Then he relaxed, leaning back against the door, his expression turning indolent. “So, you were eavesdropping on us?” I mimicked his tone from the dinner table. “It was an accident.” “Are you into Noah?” he asked, getting straight to the point. My voice was as light as a feather. “More than just him.” Finn’s pupils contracted. He scanned my face, searching for an answer. “Sebastian?” My smile widened, a hint of playful mischief in my eyes. “Silly boy,” I purred. “You forgot about yourself.” The casual laziness on Finn’s face vanished, his jaw tightening. Before he could react, I reached out and gave his shirt a sharp tug. “Hiss—” Finn stumbled forward, right under the spray of the shower. His grey shirt was instantly soaked, clinging to his body. “Tsk. You got wet so fast.” “Caleb, what the fuck are you…” “You’re the one who walked in here!” I didn’t give him time to think. I cupped the back of his neck with one hand and bit down on his lips, my kiss a pure act of aggression. Our breaths mingled, and the temperature in the small space shot up. Finn’s body went rigid. He started to struggle, twisting in my grasp, but his lips were pinned, unable to escape. And just then— Footsteps echoed from the hallway. I broke the kiss instantly, taking a step back. “Caleb, Sebastian said you could…” CRASH! The sharp sound of shattering glass sliced through the charged atmosphere. Noah was frozen in the doorway, a puddle of milky white liquid spreading across the floor from the glass he’d dropped. He stared, wide-eyed and in utter disbelief, at the steam-filled bathroom, at Finn’s drenched form, and at my naked body. His voice trembled. “F-Finn… what are you two… doing?” 6 I blinked, feigning confusion. “I asked him to help me scrub my back. Right, Finn?” Finn swallowed hard. “Right. Is there a problem?” Comprehension dawned on Noah’s face, and he let out a long sigh of relief. He scratched his head. “Oh. Well, for little things like that, you can just ask me next time.” I stepped out of the bathroom, drying my hair with a towel. As I passed Finn, I shot him a quick, meaningful glance. “Your room is too far away,” I said to Noah. “Finn’s is closer. It’s more convenient.” On the second floor of their house, the bedrooms were split. Mine and Finn’s were to the right of the stairs, while Sebastian’s and Noah’s were to the left. “Finn, can we switch rooms?” Noah pleaded, tugging on his brother’s arm. Finn coughed. “No. I’m used to my room.” “Please, please, please?” “Are you even thinking straight? Why would we switch?” “I just want to be closer to Caleb, so I can help if he needs anything.” “If you want to switch so badly, why don’t you ask Sebastian to switch with Caleb?” At the mention of their older brother, Noah went silent. “Hmph.” Then, as if remembering something, Noah snapped his fingers. “Oh, Caleb, Sebastian wants to see you in his room. It’s probably about the internship.” 7 In the study. “Sebastian.” He didn’t look up, his eyes glued to his computer screen. I took the hint and stood quietly to the side, taking the opportunity to survey the room. A massive, ornate desk made of rare wood dominated the center. Across from it, a towering bookshelf faced a classical oil painting that looked imposing under the lamplight. The whole room screamed power. After what felt like an eternity, Sebastian finally took off his glasses. “You’re here?” I just stared. Yeah, I’ve only been standing here long enough for my dinner to digest. Don’t pretend you just noticed me. “Noah told you I approved your internship, correct?” I nodded. “However,” Sebastian paused. “I only have one open position near me. I’m not sure if you’d be interested.” I met his gaze. “I am.” “My assistant left for our Canadian branch a few days ago. You can fill in for him temporarily.” Before he could finish, Finn pushed the door open and strode in. “Sebastian, I want to intern at the company too.” Noah trailed in behind him. “Me too! I want to help!” he added, raising his hand like a schoolboy. Sebastian’s voice was firm. “Finn, you’ll start at the bottom. Noah, don’t join the circus.” “Why?” “Why?” For once, the two brothers were in perfect sync. “Finn, you’re too impulsive. You need to learn the ropes from the ground up. And while you’re at the company, you will not reveal your identity.” Sebastian rubbed his temples. “Noah, you have years of university left.” Finn let out a groan. Noah walked behind Sebastian’s chair and started giving him a massage. “Come on, Sebastian. I just want to get some experience.” Sebastian shot him a look over his shoulder. Noah immediately fell silent. Seeing my chance, I cautiously spoke up. “Um… if you don’t mind me asking, what’s the salary…?” Sebastian’s eyes locked onto mine. “That depends on your performance.” 8 After we left the study, Noah wouldn’t stop chattering as we walked down the hall. “Caleb, I’ll come find you at the office!” “Caleb, next time you need your back scrubbed, just call me! I’ve got all this strength and nowhere to use it!” “Caleb, I’ll talk to Sebastian about getting you a bigger salary…” Finn, who had been walking ahead with his hands in his pockets, glanced back and rolled his eyes. “Whipped.” Noah bristled. “Finn, take that back! How could you say that about me?” Then he leaned in and whispered to me, “Caleb, my brother’s been extra prickly these past few days. Don’t mind him.” I rubbed my nose. “Maybe he’s on his man period.” I walked right into Finn, who had stopped dead in his tracks. His face was a thundercloud. “Are you two going to gossip about me right to my face?” Noah stepped in front of me protectively. “Finn, if you’ve got a problem, take it up with me. Don’t you dare bully Caleb.” I had to hold back a laugh at his dramatic, self-sacrificing pose. Finn tilted his head, a wicked glint in his eye. “Oh, look at you, taking his side already.” His voice rose. “And what makes you think I’m the one bullying him?” Noah scoffed. “Don’t think I didn’t see it.” Finn looked confused. “?” “At dinner. The way you were staring at him, you practically burned a hole through him.” I peeked around Noah to look at Finn. A hint of color rose in his cheeks. “I… I can’t be bothered to argue with you,” he stammered, turning on his heel. “I’m going to my room.” Two seconds later, he was gone. “Weird. What’s up with him today?” Noah wondered aloud, scratching his head. “He has a guilty conscience,” I said with a smile. 9 Noah followed me into my room and meticulously smoothed out my bedsheets. Before he left, he gave me one last, worried instruction. “Caleb, call me if you need anything.” “I will.” I pulled off my tank top and hung it on the back of a chair. Noah’s face instantly turned beet red. “C-Caleb… don’t you wear pajamas?” “I prefer to sleep naked,” I said, a slow smile spreading across my face. “What about you?” Noah’s eyes were still glued to my chest. “Naked…” he mumbled. “Hmm?” I kept smiling. “Ah,” he snapped out of it, swallowing hard. “Caleb, didn’t you always wear pajamas in the dorm?” Instead of answering, I asked a question of my own. “I always kept my bed curtain closed. How would you know what I was wearing?” “I…” Noah’s eyes darted away. I helped him out. “You must have seen me when I got up to use the bathroom in the middle of the night, right?” “Right! That’s it.” I watched his reaction, amused. If I weren’t such a light sleeper, it would be hard to connect this innocent little puppy with the person who I knew had been peeking through my curtains at night. But it was perfect. Too much innocence is boring, anyway. “There were a lot of people in the dorm, and the AC was always blasting. I wore pajamas because I get cold easily.” “Oh, okay.” A faint thump-thump sound came from Finn’s room next door. “What is my brother doing now?” Noah grumbled. “It’s nothing.” “I swear, my mom must have forgotten to give him a brain when he was born.” Noah puffed out his cheeks like an angry little pufferfish. I laughed. “Your brother just needs to be properly trained.” He blinked, confused. “Trained?” “He needs a good beating.” Noah straightened my pillow. “Caleb, don’t worry about him at the office. Sebastian made him keep his identity a secret, so he won’t be able to give you any trouble.” 10 The moment Noah left, Finn appeared. “What is it?” I asked, half-yawning. He stood by my bed. “I… I need to borrow your shower.” Tsk. Such a terrible actor. It’s a good thing he never tried to make it in Hollywood. I raised an eyebrow. “Fine.” He let out a huff, clearly annoyed. “Aren’t you going to ask me what’s wrong with mine?” “I’m not curious. Why would I ask?” “You—!” He let out an exasperated laugh and stalked into the bathroom. A few moments later, I heard the sound of running water. I let the gentle rhythm lull me to sleep. In the hazy space between waking and sleeping, I felt a pair of eyes on me. I rubbed my eyes open to see Finn standing over my bed like the Grim Reaper. “Finn, what are you doing?” His hair was still damp. “Oh? Not calling me ‘brother’ anymore?” I rolled over, turning my back to him. “Caleb.” I ignored him. “Caleb, stop pretending.” I’d lost my patience. I sat up. “Pretending what? Why don’t you tell me what you’re pretending?” “My shower is really broken,” he blurted out, even though I hadn’t asked. “Oh, really? Broken?” He held up his hand as if taking an oath. “I swear.” “Let me guess,” I said, a smirk playing on my lips. “The showerhead is broken, right?” “How did you know?” Ha. So that’s what the thumping was about. “Well, since you’re all clean now, you can go back to your own room,” I said, dismissing him. “Caleb, this is my house. I’ll stay wherever I want.” “It may be your house, but you wouldn’t want Noah to walk in again, would you? What’s the excuse this time? Scrubbing my back again?” He finally snapped. “Caleb—don’t you dare try anything with Noah! I’m his brother! And don’t even think about Sebastian, he’s the heir to the family! If you want to mess with someone, mess with me!” A soft laugh escaped my lips. “So, you’re saying I can mess with you?” “Me?” His voice shot up. “Absolutely not! I’m a pure, untouched flower!” I just watched his one-man show, unimpressed. “Fine. You can go now.” “But on the other hand,” he said, looking away awkwardly. “You don’t have to finish that sentence.” His voice was laced with anger. “What do you mean? You kissed me. You have to take responsibility.” I burst out laughing. “Finn, you go to bars just to drink? You’ve never even kissed anyone before?” His face went rigid, as if I’d struck a nerve. “None of your business.” “Just a joke. Don’t get so sensitive.” No wonder the kiss had been so clumsy. Tsk, tsk. He hides it well. “Hmph.” Seeing that I was ignoring him again, he started sneaking glances at me. I pretended not to notice. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. “You’re supposed to comfort me.” “I don’t know how.” “Are you serious?” “I’m not in the habit of coddling people.”

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I transmigrated into a novel as the adoptive mother of five future titans—a self-sacrificing saint destined to burn out for their success. Now, my most beloved son shielded his childhood sweetheart, accusing my mute biological daughter: “She pushed Vivian down the stairs!” The other four sons glared coldly as Vivian smirked from their protection. [WARNING: -20 FAMILY HARMONY! MAINTAIN SAINTLY PERSONA OR FACE PUNISHMENT!] I laughed, hurling a crystal ashtray at my “darling” son’s feet. “She’s mute! If you’re so heartbroken, get out!” Did you think my 20 years of sacrifice meant nothing? The show’s just beginning. 1 The crystal chandelier cast a cold, unforgiving light on every face in the living room. My eldest son, Ashton, the future titan of industry, stood at his full six-foot-two height, his body a formidable shield for the girl cradled in his arms, Vivian. Vivian’s knee was scraped, a minor injury she was milking for all it was worth, her face a mask of tear-streaked, damsel-in-distress fragility. Ashton’s accusing finger was nearly touching the nose of my biological daughter, Nina. “It was her!” “Nina! She’s the one who pushed Vivian down the stairs!” His voice was hoarse with rage, his eyes shot through with red veins. “She almost died!” My five-year-old Nina, born without the ability to speak, was trembling, her small face ghostly white. She tried to shrink behind me, her little hands making frantic, meaningless gestures as she let out choked, “Ah, ah,” sounds. She was trying to explain. But no one was giving her the chance. My second son, Caleb, the future superstar actor, leaned against the sofa, his gaze coolly detached. “Mom, this has gone too far.” My third, Dylan, the future genius doctor, adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses. “Nina needs psychological intervention.” My fourth, Ethan, the future master hacker, sat silently with his laptop, but the clacking of his keys had stopped—a silent, suffocating pressure. And my fifth, Leo, the future top lawyer, spoke with a voice as cold and hard as ice. “Mom, we need an explanation. Vivian is a guest. And she has a heart condition.” The five boys I had raised with my own two hands, the five future titans into whom I had poured all my blood, sweat, and tears, now stood like five icebergs, trapping my mute daughter and me in the center. Behind them, Vivian buried her face in Ashton’s chest and, for a moment, peeked up at me, a silent, victorious smile playing on her lips. [BEEP—SYSTEM WARNING!] [HOST BEHAVIOR DETECTED. DEVIATION FROM “SAINTLY MOTHER” PERSONA. FAMILY HARMONY RATING: -20.] [IMMEDIATELY APPEASE ADOPTED SON ASHTON, AND REQUIRE NINA TO APOLOGIZE TO VIVIAN TO MAINTAIN FAMILY HARMOnY.] [WARNING! FAILURE TO COMPLY WITHIN TEN MINUTES WILL INITIATE LEVEL-ONE ELECTRIC SHOCK PUNISHMENT!] The cold, mechanical voice in my head was a death knell. I laughed. The sound was jarring in the dead silence of the room. Everyone stared at me, stunned. I slowly rose to my feet, walked to the coffee table, and picked up the heavy, crystal ashtray. Ashton watched, his eyes wide with disbelief, as I raised my arm and hurled it at his feet. CRASH! Crystal fragments flew everywhere. A shard sliced through the expensive fabric of his trousers. He jumped back, shocked. Everyone was frozen in astonishment. “Are you blind?” My voice was quiet, but it was like a poison-tipped needle, piercing the ears of everyone present. “She’s mute. How is she supposed to explain anything to you?” “With sign language? Which one of you bastards even knows sign language?” I pointed a trembling finger towards the front door, each word a slap across Ashton’s face. “Since you’re so heartbroken over her, since you have so little faith in me, in this family…” “Get out.” “You and her, get out of this house together!” [WARNING! WARNING! HOST BEHAVIOR SEVERELY DEVIATING FROM PERSONA! FAMILY HARMONY RATING: -50!] [PUNISHMENT INITIATED!] BZZZT— A sharp, agonizing current shot through my body, convulsing every muscle. The pain was so intense it felt like it was coming from my very bones. My vision swam with black spots. I bit down hard on my back teeth, the taste of blood flooding my mouth. I gripped the table for support, refusing to let myself fall. Ashton’s face was a storm of shock, rage, and utter incomprehension. “Mom, are you crazy?! You’re kicking me out? For a mute?” “I’m your son!” I forced a cold laugh past the pain. “My son? A son of the Sterling family wouldn’t point a finger at his own sister and play the blind and deaf fool for an outsider.” “Butler!” I yelled, my voice sharp. The butler scurried in, his face a mask of alarm. “Ma’am…” “Pack up the young master’s and Miss Vivian’s things. All of them. And throw them out. Now!” “Freeze all his credit cards. Take back his car. From this day forward, he has nothing to do with the Sterling family!” The electric current continued, each wave more intense than the last. Cold sweat poured down my back, soaking my dress. But I stood ramrod straight. Vivian finally dropped her act. She stepped out from behind Ashton and walked towards me, tears streaming down her face on command. “Auntie, please don’t be angry. It’s all my fault. It has nothing to do with Ashton…” As she spoke, she leaned in close, whispering in a voice only I could hear, “You can’t win against us, old woman.” Her eyes were full of taunting disdain. I looked at her pitiful, angelic face and felt nothing. I just pulled my terrified, near-fainting daughter into my arms, holding her tight, gently patting her back. Nina is my biological daughter. In the original story, she was my only “weakness.” Now, she is my sharpest weapon. 2 Ashton was, in fact, thrown out of the house. When the butler dumped his suitcases and Vivian’s handbag on the curb outside the villa, he still couldn’t believe it. “Mom! You’ll regret this!” he screamed at me. I ignored him, simply signaling for the guards to close the heavy, ornate iron gates. The four remaining sons looked at me as if I were a stranger. “Mom, you’re playing favorites,” Caleb, the actor, said first, his voice laced with undisguised disappointment. “Ashton was just worried about Vivian. You didn’t have to take it this far,” Dylan, the doctor, added with a frown. Leo, the lawyer, was more direct. “Legally speaking, you can’t unilaterally terminate an adoption.” I held Nina close, turned, and faced them. “Favorites?” I smiled. “Fine. I’ll show you what playing favorites really looks like.” That night, the news of Ashton being kicked out spread like wildfire through their social circle. The next day, the internet exploded. #SuperstarCalebSterlingAllegedlyAbusedByStepmother #RichStepmotherFavorsBioDaughterDrivesOutAdoptedSon The hashtags shot to the top of the trending lists. It started on a live-streamed variety show. The host asked Caleb if anything was bothering him lately. He looked into the camera with his famously melancholic eyes and sighed. “It’s nothing. Just… some minor friction at home. I guess since I’m not her real son, there’s always going to be a distance.” He didn’t say much, but it was more than enough to set his fans off. They immediately began concocting elaborate stories of a wicked, abusive stepmother. My social media accounts and my company’s official website were instantly flooded with furious comments. Vicious woman! He thought of you as a mother, and you treated him like a slave? My heart breaks for Caleb! Just because he’s not your biological son, he deserves to be bullied? That mute daughter is probably no good either. Bet she’s a manipulative little snake! My PR manager’s phone was ringing off the hook. “Mrs. Sterling, what do we do? The company’s stock is starting to drop!” I was in the garden, enjoying the sun with Nina. My voice was calm. “Do nothing.” I hung up and scrolled through the vile, hateful comments on my phone, completely unfazed. I made another call, this time to the manager of my private trust fund. “Mr. Davies, I need you to prepare the documents for the trust funds I set up for my five sons. I want to make them public.” “Each one is worth ten million dollars. They can access a portion upon reaching adulthood with proof of identity, and they get full control at twenty-five.” Mr. Davies was confused, but he did as he was told. Half an hour later, a notarized copy of the trust fund documents was released by a well-known financial influencer. EXCLUSIVE! The “wicked stepmother” from the rumors, Susan Sterling, established a ten-million-dollar trust fund for EACH of her five adopted sons years ago, accessible upon adulthood. The documents are verified and can be authenticated by any legal institution. Public opinion flipped on a dime. Ten million. For each of them. Five times over. What did that even mean? Holy crap! Ten million each! That’s fifty million! This is abuse? This is loving them with her whole life! I hereby declare that this is my real mother! Mom, are you looking for another son? One who can feed himself? Get in line! She’s MY mom! So what is Caleb even complaining about? For a mom who gives me ten million, I’d wash her feet every day on my knees! Wait, I think I get it. The biological daughter probably doesn’t have one, right? So the brothers feel like their mom is being unfair and want to stand up for their sister? This family’s relationship is so good! Caleb’s management team was in a full-blown crisis. He had tried to cultivate a “tragic but talented” persona, but with one move—my “superpower” of overwhelming cash—I had turned him into an ungrateful brat who was biting the hand that fed him. His agent scrambled to release an apology, claiming Caleb was just in a bad mood and spoke without thinking, and had absolutely no intention of criticizing his adoptive mother. Caleb himself was forced to repost the apology. He returned home looking defeated, and when he saw me doing a puzzle with Nina, his face was, for the first time, tinged with unease. “Mom.” I didn’t look up. “Have you learned your lesson?” He fell silent. “I did nothing wrong,” he muttered stubbornly. “You kicked Ashton out. You’re still playing favorites.” I finally raised my eyes to meet his. “Caleb, you need to remember something. What I give you is a gift. It’s given out of love. And I can take it back anytime I want.” “Including everything you have now.” His face went pale. Just then, Vivian arrived, carrying a fruit basket. “Auntie, I came to see you. Caleb, please don’t make Auntie angry,” she said, playing the peacemaker. She walked over to Nina, crouched down, and smiled sweetly. “Nina, I’m sorry. The other day was my fault. I was clumsy. Please don’t hold it against me.” As she spoke, she reached for the pot of hot soup on the table, as if to serve Nina a bowl. And then, her hand “accidentally” slipped. The scalding hot soup tipped, heading straight for Nina’s hand! My eyes flashed. In a split second, I grabbed Vivian’s wrist and twisted it, hard. “Ahhh—!” A scream ripped through the air. The bowl of hot soup splashed all over the back of her own hand. Her fair skin instantly turned a blotchy, angry red. “Vivian!” Caleb and Dylan, who had just walked in, both cried out and rushed over. Vivian was in tears from the pain, looking at me with disbelief. But I was “panicked” even faster than she was. “Oh, Vivian! How could you be so careless!” I cried, grabbing her burned hand, my face a mask of “concern.” “Quickly! Dylan, you’re a doctor, take a look at her!” I shouted, all while squeezing her wound, my words full of feigned worry. “Oh, Vivian, I know you feel wronged. I know you wanted to show everyone your resolve, but how could you hurt yourself just to frame Nina?” “Nina doesn’t understand anything! You’re going to scare her!” My voice was filled with “heartbreak.” Caleb and Dylan were frozen. They looked from Vivian’s rapidly blistering hand to my daughter, cowering in my arms, the picture of innocence. Vivian’s lips were white with pain. She shook her head frantically. “No… Auntie, you… you accidentally…” “Yes, yes, it’s my fault. I couldn’t stop you,” I immediately “blamed” myself. “It’s all my fault I couldn’t prevent you from hurting yourself. Please, don’t ever do this again. It breaks my heart.” Dylan, the doctor, immediately began emergency treatment for Vivian’s burn. His gaze, for the first time, shifted back and forth between Vivian’s pale, protesting face and my own “concerned” expression. A tiny seed of doubt had been planted.

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1 I woke up to find a devastatingly handsome guy slumped over the side of my bed. Before I could even process the sheer force of his good looks, he opened his mouth. “Mom.” My brain short-circuited. “Oh my god,” I blurted out. “You’re a gamer too?” His expression turned thunderous. “I’m your son.” 2 Seeing the disbelief on my face, he sighed, a world-weary sound. “Mom, stop messing around.” He closed his eyes. I couldn’t tell if he’d fallen asleep or just died of exasperation. Between believing I’d somehow spawned a fully-grown adult son at the age of twenty and believing he was a gamer who’d lost his mind, I was leaning heavily toward the latter. I shook my head frantically. “I don’t have a son this old.” He gave me a look that was a complex cocktail of pity and frustration. “You’re forty. Is it really that weird to have a son my age?” I waved my hands in front of my face as if to ward off his words. “Impossible. I just celebrated my twentieth birthday yesterday. Did I blow out the candles and fast-forward two decades?” He frowned and held up his phone, the front-facing camera aimed at me. The woman on the screen had fine lines around her eyes and mouth. It was undeniably me, but a version of me that had been aged by twenty years. I touched my face, again and again, the reality sinking in like a stone. “Did I… time travel?” One night’s sleep, and I’d jumped from twenty to forty, with a bonus giant-sized son. It took a long, long time to wrap my head around it. “Who’s your dad?” I finally managed to ask, my voice hoarse. At the mention of his father, a flicker of disgust crossed his face. He spat out a name like it was poison. “Evan.” Evan. The guy I’d had a massive crush on for years in college. Suddenly, my son’s handsome face clicked into place. The elegant lines of his eyes and brows were a mirror image of Evan’s. But he had my softer features, tempering the sharp angles he’d inherited from his father. So, twenty years from now, my dream had come true. I’d not only married Evan, but we had a son this old. Meeting my future son for the first time was… awkward. I started interrogating him like a census taker: name, age, where he went to school. He answered every question patiently. His name was Leo. He was seventeen, a senior at Northwood High. Doing the math, I must have had him right after I graduated college. I tried to lighten the mood, teasing him like he was a little kid. “So, Leo, who do you like more? Mommy or Daddy?” His face fell instantly. “I can handle you having amnesia, Mom. I can’t handle you being an idiot.” “…” 3 Apparently, forty-year-old me had taken a tumble down the stairs, which is how I ended up in the hospital. Leo just assumed I had amnesia and that’s why I didn’t recognize him. When I brought up Evan, that flicker of disgust was back. “Don’t talk about him. He’s bad luck.” So, not the best father-son relationship, then. The doctors gave me a clean bill of health, so Leo checked me out of the hospital. The world had changed completely in twenty years. When we got to his—our—home, I felt like a country bumpkin on her first trip to the big city. It was a sprawling penthouse apartment with a panoramic view of the river. I couldn’t have even dreamed of being this wealthy in twenty years. Looking at a living room big enough to play badminton in, I suddenly felt a sense of relief. Maybe the universe wasn’t so bad to me after all. I’d just skipped twenty years of hard work. I wandered through the apartment, but there was no sign of Evan anywhere. I didn’t think much of it. The last I remembered, he was just starting his own business. It looked like he’d been successful. CEOs are busy. I could understand. Forty-year-old me was a lady of leisure, with time and money to burn. Twenty-year-old me was a broke college student. My first instinct upon striking it rich? Revenge spending. When I’d first seen my reflection, I was horrified. I looked haggard and neglected. I’d always been someone who took pride in my appearance. I couldn’t stand looking like this. I went on a spree: facials, manicures, a whole new wardrobe. It was only when I looked in the mirror and saw a completely transformed woman that I was satisfied. I snapped a few selfies, wanting to share them with my best friend, only to realize I didn’t have her number in my new phone. 4 It was late when I got home. Leo wasn’t there, and he wasn’t answering his phone. A high school kid—where could he be after school? I went out to find him. Even though in reality, he was only a couple of years younger than me, in my mind, he was my son, a kid I needed to look out for. Just as I got to the entrance of our building, I saw him walking up, still in his school uniform. “Where have you been?” I asked, grabbing his arm. He didn’t say anything. It wasn’t until we were inside, under the bright lights of the lobby, that I saw the bruises on his face. “Did you get into a fight?” I reached out to touch his cheek. He turned his head away. “I fell.” I didn’t believe him for a second. You don’t get bruises like that from falling. He was stubborn, just like me. Once he’d made up his mind not to talk, there was no getting it out of him. To find out what was going on, I decided to follow him. The next day, I staked out his school. When the final bell rang, students poured out of the gates in a massive wave. I spotted Leo immediately. Call it a mother’s bias, but he stood out from the crowd, a head taller and more handsome than anyone else. A small swell of pride rose in my chest. I had good taste—a handsome husband, an even more handsome son. He hadn’t gotten far from the school when a group of boys in the same uniform surrounded him. They grabbed him and dragged him away. 5 My heart leaped into my throat. I grabbed the baseball bat from the trunk of my car and followed them. They pulled Leo into a deserted alley. The leader of the group got in his face. I couldn’t hear what he said, but it made Leo see red. He threw a punch, hitting the kid square in the jaw. The rest of the group was about to jump Leo when I stepped in front of him, bat in hand. “Everybody freeze! Who taught you to bully your classmates?” Leo’s eyes widened when he saw me, a reflexive “Mom” escaping his lips. When the leader heard it, his face twisted into an ugly sneer. “So your mommy’s here?” he spat. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll still beat the crap out of you!” I swung the bat and connected with the kid’s leg. The arrogant punk crumpled to the ground, howling in pain. The others saw their leader go down and surged forward, ready for revenge. I shoved the bat into Leo’s hands. “Son, hit him!” Leo looked at me like I’d lost my mind. I leaned in and whispered, “I already called the cops. You’re a minor. You won’t get in serious trouble.” With the bat, the other boys couldn’t get close to him. But there were too many of them. Leo was quickly overwhelmed. I saw one of them pick up a rock, ready to bring it down on Leo’s head. Without a second thought, I threw myself in front of him, shielding him with my body. I braced for the impact, but the pain never came. The police had arrived. 6 At the police station, we were all taken in for statements. Leo and I should have been the victims, but because I’d brought a baseball bat, the incident was classified as a mutual affray. Luckily, no one was seriously injured. After a stern lecture, we were told we could leave after posting bail and having someone come sign for us. The problem was, who could we call? My first instinct was to call Evan, but Leo stopped me. His lips were pressed into a thin, hard line. “Don’t call him.” I knew their relationship was strained, so I didn’t push it. “Then who?” After a long moment, Leo dialed a number. My best friend Chloe’s voice came through the phone. Hearing my son call her “Aunt Chloe,” the knot of anxiety in my chest finally loosened. I’d been worried when I couldn’t find her contact in my phone, thinking maybe we’d had a falling out. It seemed that wasn’t the case. We sat and waited for Chloe. One by one, the other families came and went, until it was just us and the leader of the other boys. “What’s taking Chloe so long?” I grumbled. Leo looked at me, a strange expression on his face, but he didn’t say anything. I was scrolling through videos on my phone when I sensed someone approaching. I looked up. Evan. He was dressed in a perfectly tailored suit. He looked older, more mature than the boy I remembered, with a quiet, powerful presence. He was exactly how I’d imagined a CEO version of him would be. A smile bloomed on my face, and I was about to greet him when I saw him walk right past us and over to the other boy. He frowned slightly, ruffling the boy’s hair. “What did you do to end up in a police station?” I was about to tell him he had the wrong son when Leo grabbed my hand. His eyes were hard and stubborn. He shook his head. “Don’t. He has nothing to do with us.” 7 It was only then that Evan seemed to notice us. His brow furrowed. “What are you two doing here?” Before I could speak, the other boy beat me to it. In front of Evan, his earlier arrogance was gone, replaced by a pitiable, wronged expression. He tugged on Evan’s sleeve. “Dad, I know Leo doesn’t like me. It’s okay that Aunt Cathy hit me for him. Please don’t be mad at them.” The kid was a master manipulator, and Evan fell for it hook, line, and sinker. His face darkened with anger. “Cathy, you’re a grown woman. Are you really going to pick on a child? Apologize to Julian right now!” I gave him a slow, deliberate once-over, then let out a cold laugh. Evan’s frown deepened. “This is between you and me. Why are you taking it out on a kid?” And just like that, I understood everything that had happened in the last twenty years. Evan had been cheating on me for years, and he even let his illegitimate son bully our son. The realization hit me like a physical blow. I raised my hand and slapped him, hard, across the face. “Who do you think you are?” He’d clearly never been hit by the forty-year-old me before. Disbelief warred with rage in his eyes. “Cathy, are you insane?” The slap was so sudden that even Leo looked shocked. But he recovered quickly, stepping in front of me protectively. Julian, of course, seized the opportunity to add fuel to the fire. “Aunt Cathy, even if you don’t like me and my mom, you can’t treat Dad like this!” I turned my dead-eyed stare on him. “One more word out of you, and you’re next.” Evan was practically vibrating with fury. “That’s enough, Cathy! Look at you! What have you become?” “What have I become?” I said coolly. “A goddess, slapping you across the face.” Chloe arrived just in time to hear my comeback. She burst out laughing, completely ignoring the thunderous look on Evan’s face. “Oh my god, I can’t. That’s hilarious.” I shot her an annoyed look. A forty-year-old woman, and she still had no composure. She finally managed to get herself under control, looking at me like I was some kind of exotic animal. “Well, well. You finally grew a spine.” A cold dread washed over me. Had the future me turned into some kind of pathetic, lovesick doormat? Leo looked between me and Chloe, his expression unreadable. Chloe acted like she’d only just noticed Evan. “Oh, your dear husband is here. Why did you call me? Oh, right. He’s here to back up his bastard son.” The words “dear husband” made my head spin. Chloe didn’t spare me another glance. She treated me like I was invisible. After we left the station, she fussed over Leo, asking about his injuries, worrying about his studies. She was acting more like his mother than I was. I tried to speak to her several times, but she ignored me. She finally left after taking a phone call, without a single word to me. A wave of self-pity washed over me. I’d woken up twenty years in the future, and my best friend was treating me like a stranger. The wind whipped at my face, and tears streamed down my cheeks. Leo gently wiped them away. “It’s windy. Let’s go home.” I stared at his face, so much like Evan’s. After a long moment, I finally spoke. “Leo… if I said I wanted a divorce, would you be okay with that?” He froze. When my words finally registered, his eyes widened in disbelief. But the surprise quickly faded, replaced by a quiet resignation. “Okay. Let’s go home.” 8 I grabbed his arm, my voice firm. “Leo, I want a divorce. I’m not kidding.” It took a long time before he finally managed a quiet, “Okay.” I nudged his arm, trying to joke. “Is that all you have to say? I say I want a divorce, and that’s your reaction?” He gave a bitter smile. “What do you want me to say?” I looked at him, suddenly at a loss for words. In his eyes, I had just lost my memory. My talk of divorce was just a whim. He would never believe something as crazy as time travel. Leo avoided talking about my memory loss, and I was completely in the dark about the last twenty years. But I was starting to guess why the future me was so reluctant to get a divorce. I dropped the subject and asked him if he was hungry. He instinctively said no, but his stomach betrayed him with a loud growl. “Alright,” I said, putting on a brave face. “Let’s go home. Mom will make you a late-night snack!” I’m not exactly a gifted chef. Luckily, Leo wasn’t a picky eater. After an hour of me puttering around in the kitchen, I presented him with a bowl of instant noodles. He ate it without a single complaint, even managing a compliment. “This is the best instant noodles I’ve ever had.” I told him not to flatter me, but my heart ached. Leo was the best kid in the world. But Cathy… Cathy was not a good mother. After that night, our relationship seemed to thaw a little. He’d come home from school and complain about his homework. He’d also make snide remarks about my cooking. One day, I presented him with a new creation. His face contorted in horror. “Why are the chicken wings… green?” “Coca-Cola chicken is so last season,” I announced proudly. “This is my new invention: Fanta chicken! Isn’t it a refreshing change?” “You know,” he said, looking disgusted, “I kind of miss the days when you ignored me.” We both froze. He looked instantly regretful and took the plate from my hands. “I mean, the color is a little weird, but it probably tastes amazing.” As he took a big bite and told me how great it was, my eyes started to burn. I snatched the plate back. “It’s okay. You don’t have to eat it if you don’t like it.” “Who said I don’t like it?” he said, his voice rising. “I think it’s great!” Tears streamed down my face. Leo just stared at me, completely at a loss. He fumbled, trying to wipe my tears away. I scrubbed at my face with the back of my hand. “Leo, Mom is so sorry.” He looked away, uncomfortable. “It’s just a plate of chicken wings. It’s not a big deal.” “I haven’t been a good mother to you,” I said, looking him straight in the eye. “Not now, and not before.” He opened his mouth, but in the end, he said nothing.

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My brother lost a bet and used me as collateral, handing me over to his sworn enemy to be his canary. Standing outside the room, separated by a single door, I could hear Leo and his friends’ jeers as clear as day. “A honeypot? More like a trap for the blind. Jason is a lumbering idiot.” “Just wait till his sister gets here. You guys can watch me break her.” “Her, manipulate me? Heh. Not a chance in hell.” The moment I pushed the door open, I lifted my chin. Leo took a sharp breath. “M is for ‘my one and only,’ A is for ‘always and forever,’ N is for ‘nothing can keep us apart’…” “Right, where was I?” 1 A heavy silence fell over the room. I stood frozen in place, my heart pounding like a drum, my brother’s words echoing in my mind— “Chloe, when you get there, you have to be so, so careful. That guy, Leo, he’s ruthless, a total psycho. He’s not even human!” “You have to protect yourself. The second I pay back the money, I’ll come get you!” I remembered my brother, Jason, sitting on a hospital bed, his leg in a cast, his face bruised and swollen, his eyes welling up with tears. The more I thought about it, the more terrified I became. But there was a problem. With so many people in the room, which one was “Leo”? My eyes scanned the crowd. A man was lounging in the corner, leaning against the sofa with an air of effortless command. He seemed different from the rest. That must be him, right? I walked over cautiously. “A-are you Leo?” “Hi, I’m Jason’s sister, Chloe,” I said, then offered a tentative, placating smile. “You live up to the reputation, Mr. Leo. You have such a powerful presence.” Someone behind me snorted with laughter. “Luke, she thinks you’re Leo.” Wrong one? I paled, turning to the man who had spoken and apologizing profusely. This one wore gold-rimmed glasses and had the shrewd look of a seasoned strategist. Was he Leo? I pasted on another smile. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Leo. I must be blind to have mistaken you for someone else.” This time, the man laughed even louder. Suddenly, a strong hand gripped my wrist. The world spun, and I found myself falling into someone’s lap. His thighs were solid muscle, radiating a powerful heat. I looked up and met a pair of dark, stormy eyes. His face was a mask of displeasure, his voice laced with ice. “Just like your pathetic brother. Annoying from the second you open your mouth.” “You can’t even recognize your own sugar daddy. You got a death wish?” 2 Honestly, my brother wasn’t as useless as Leo made him out to be. He was a good brother. He’d doted on me ever since he started his business from scratch. He just had terrible luck with investments, which is how he ended up losing his entire fortune to Leo. That day, Jason had knelt and begged Leo for a long time, pleading with him to spare our family. He’d even bashed his head on the floor until it bled. But the arrogant heir was merciless. “Can’t pay the money? Then pay with your body.” Jason, terrified, clutched his behind and stammered that he was straight and would need some time to mentally prepare himself. Leo’s face had darkened. He kicked my brother’s leg. “Jason, are you a fucking idiot? What the hell are you thinking?” That one kick broke my brother’s leg. Not only did Leo not pay for the medical bills, he used it as an opportunity to humiliate Jason further, telling him to show up for work at his company the next day as a security guard to work off the debt. But my brother couldn’t even walk. How was he supposed to work? It was an impossible demand. For every day he didn’t show up, the interest would double. Jason was on the verge of a breakdown. I couldn’t just watch him fall apart. Left with no other choice, I had to resort to this. And now, seeing Leo in person, I knew my brother hadn’t been exaggerating. Leo was all looks and no substance, with a temper to match. Dealing with someone this petty was going to require all of my focus. 3 I went home with Leo. The car ride was silent. I assumed he was still angry about what happened earlier. I carefully reached out and tugged on his sleeve. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to mistake you for…” “Don’t touch me!” He yanked his sleeve away with a look of pure disgust. Well… It was clear Leo really, truly despised me. The butler, Mr. Peterson, greeted us at the door. “Young Master, and this is?” Leo, a cigarette dangling from his lips, shot me a sideways glance. “A canary. You get it?” Seeing Mr. Peterson’s confused expression, he explained impatiently. “You’re so out of touch, old man. How do you not know what that is?” “It’s like… a toy. A little plaything someone gives you to settle a debt. Understand now?” I stood there, shifting awkwardly on my feet. Mr. Peterson’s expression changed. He leaned in and whispered to Leo. “Sir, this kind of contract isn’t legally enforceable. It infringes on her personal freedom and violates public decency laws…” “Besides, this woman is stunningly beautiful. Aren’t you worried she and her brother are plotting something?” The two of them were whispering as if I wasn’t even there. I quickly waved my hands, trying to explain earnestly. “My brother and I really aren’t plotting anything! We’re genuinely trying to pay back the debt.” Leo narrowed his eyes. “Mr. Peterson, while I don’t agree with your assessment of her looks, you do have a point.” “Get the guest room ready. She can stay in there.” “I want to see exactly what kind of tricks this woman has up her sleeve.” 4 Hearing that I wouldn’t have to share a room with Leo, I secretly breathed a sigh of relief. My tightly clenched fists unconsciously relaxed. But Leo caught the subtle movement. He snorted coldly and turned on his heel, walking away. For the next few days, Leo was a ghost. He didn’t give me any tasks, nor did he make any special arrangements for me. For a canary who was supposed to be working off a debt, I was living a life of leisure, getting free room and board. I started to feel restless. Worried that Leo might suddenly find a reason to pick on me, I started looking for things to do myself. One day, I helped Maria with the gardening. The next, I gave Mrs. Davis a hand in the kitchen. I was one step away from asking Mr. Peterson to add me to the official work schedule. Luckily, I fit in quickly. Everyone seemed to like me. Even Mr. Peterson, who had initially been suspicious of me, was now singing my praises. “Miss Chloe is not only beautiful, but she’s also a quick and diligent worker. Never complains.” Maria held my hand and wouldn’t let go. “I heard you studied early childhood education? Do you have a boyfriend? If not, I have a nephew who’s doing his PhD at Stanford. He’s a brilliant young man, you two would be perfect for each other.” They didn’t know about my awkward situation. They just assumed I was another employee, working for a paycheck. Mrs. Davis brought some homemade snacks to my room. “Miss Chloe, you’re five-foot-seven but only a hundred and ten pounds! You’re too thin!” “I made these just for you. Don’t worry, the Young Master will never find out!” I was deeply touched. The anxiety I’d felt when I first arrived melted away. I secretly texted my brother. I told him not to worry. Everyone here, except for Leo, was incredibly kind to me. 5 That evening, Maria’s daughter, Lily, begged me to read her a bedtime story. In the days Leo had been away, she had taken to sneaking into my room to sleep. The little girl even shared half of her gummy bears with me, her big eyes watching me expectantly. My heart melted. We lay on the bed side-by-side, our heads touching as we looked at the storybook together. The summer night was hot and sticky. The silk strap of my slip dress hung loosely on my shoulder, and as I traced the pictures with my finger, it slipped down without me noticing. With every movement, the neckline of my dress dipped lower, revealing more than I intended. Suddenly, the scent of alcohol filled the air. A man’s voice, tight with restrained anger, came from beside me. “Well, look at you, Lily. Getting bold, aren’t you.” “This is my room. Are you going to get out yourself, or do I have to throw you out?” The little girl jumped, startled. She looked at Leo as if she’d seen a ghost, dropped the book, and ran out of the room with a terrified shriek. I scrambled to sit up. Our eyes met, but Leo was the first to look away. “Chloe, the tulips in the garden. Was it your idea to replace them with crabapple blossoms?” “Huh?” I was confused. I only remembered casually mentioning to Maria that crabapple blossoms were considered good luck and looked beautiful when they bloomed. “And another thing—” “I never eat cilantro. Why is that disgusting ingredient in my kitchen?” That was from the wonton soup Mrs. Davis had made for me. It wasn’t meant for him. I didn’t say anything. But Leo knew. He knew all these changes were because of me. His frustration was practically spilling from his eyes. “You’ve only been here a few days, and you’ve already charmed everyone in this house. You really are a manipulative piece of work.” Leo had curly hair and a pair of sad, downturned eyes, with two faint beauty marks under his right eye. When he was angry, he looked like a dog with its fur on end. “I was gone for four whole days, and you didn’t send me a single text… Why aren’t you like the other canaries?” “Did you move in here just to read bedtime stories to Lily?” 6 His words made me feel a pang of guilt. My brother had given me Leo’s contact info. But I’d been so busy running around the house these past few days that I’d completely forgotten about it. “I’m sorry, baby.” I moved closer. The moment my arm touched his, Leo’s body went rigid. I pressed my advantage. I deliberately softened my voice, cooing in a placating tone. “It’s my fault. You’re my creditor. You’re the one I should be focused on pleasing.” Then, I launched into a series of barefaced lies. “I asked Maria to change the flowers so you’d feel refreshed when you came home.” “And I’ve been trying out new recipes because I wanted to cook for you. The cilantro was just for garnish.” “Everything I do, I do it for you. Even when you’re not here, I’m thinking about you, waiting for you to come back every day.” “…Is that what you really think?” “Mhm.” The tension in Leo’s expression finally eased. He lowered his gaze. But his eyes darted away as if he’d been burned. A few words tumbled out of his throat. “That nightgown is hideous. It looks like a dish rag. You have no taste.” I smiled sweetly. “Then next time, I’ll wear the kind you like, okay, baby?” Leo was clearly not expecting that. I didn’t argue at all; I just accepted his criticism. His anger, his nitpicking, it was like punching a pillow. It couldn’t get a rise out of me. Right in front of him, I opened the Amazon app on my phone. The “lingerie” section was filled with all sorts of options. Some had even less fabric, in styles that were far more provocative, from black lace to baby pink. I don’t know if it was from anger or something else, but a faint blush spread from the tips of his ears down to his neck. His Adam’s apple bobbed. He raised a hand. “Just… just get the bestseller.” 7 The day the package arrived, I sent Leo a text: [Come home early tonight. Dinner’s ready. Waiting for you, kisses~] There was a moment of silence from his end. Then, a barrage of messages flooded my phone: [Chloe, did hell freeze over? You’re actually texting me first.] [Heh. Don’t tell me you’ve fallen for me.] [What do you mean, ‘come home early’? Are you getting possessive already?] [Well, since you’re trying so hard to please me, I guess I can do you the favor of coming home for dinner tonight.] [By the way, did that nightgown arrive yet?] [Answer me.] [?] [Why aren’t you replying? Playing games with me?] [?????] … I put down my phone and looked at Mr. Peterson with a helpless expression. “Is Leo… always like this with his… canaries?” Mr. Peterson looked shocked. “Of course not! The Young Master has never even…” Realizing he’d said too much, he quickly stopped himself. “The Young Master is a workaholic. He’s rarely home, and when he’s busy, he even forgets his own birthday. He has plenty of admirers, but he’s never brought a woman home before. You’re the first.” Perhaps my good behavior recently had lowered Mr. Peterson’s guard. Once he started talking, he couldn’t stop. He poured out story after story about Leo’s childhood. “He’s actually a really good person, you know. He just has a sharp tongue.” “You hear him call me ‘old man,’ but he knows I love anime, and he gets me a new collectible figure for my birthday every year.” “Maria and Mrs. Davis get gifts too. Some kind of expensive face cream, I think…” “And he was a business prodigy from a young age. When he was ten, he took advantage of his grandmother’s dementia and tricked her into giving him New Year’s money five times.” “He also has a childhood friend, Ethan. When they were kids, the Young Master loved playing ‘treasure hunt’ at his house. One time, he found Ethan’s parents’ divorce papers…” I… had no words. 8 That evening, when Leo came home, the living room was pitch black. He had night blindness and hated the dark. It made him feel unsafe. “Chloe, where are you?” Silence. He walked further into the living room, a flicker of irritation on his face. “You said you’d be waiting at home…” In an instant, all the lights flashed on. Leo’s words caught in his throat. He saw the floor covered in a sea of deep blue and purple roses. BOOM— At the same moment, the massive floor-to-ceiling windows reflected a dazzling fireworks display exploding in the night sky. Golden sparks rained down like a shower of stars. The brilliant light danced in Leo’s stunned eyes. He stood frozen, his head tilted back, a small, unconscious smile playing on his lips as he watched, mesmerized. I emerged from the shadows, holding a cake. “Happy birthday, Leo.” He noticed me and stiffened for a moment, then quickly composed his expression, trying to look stern. “It’s not my birthday today.” “I know.” “Mr. Peterson told me. You remember everyone else’s birthday, but you always forget your own.” “So, I wanted to give you a proper celebration.” Leo snorted. “…That blabbering old man.” I smiled and took his rigid hand, leading him to the dining room. On the table was a large birthday cake. And several of Leo’s favorite dishes. “You… you made all of this yourself?” I nodded. His eyes lit up, sparkling like their own tiny fireworks show. 9 After dinner, the bathroom door was yanked open. Leo emerged from the steam, toweling his damp, brown curls. His fingers were long and elegant, his tanned arms defined by sharp lines and raised veins. Droplets of water traced paths down the sharp lines of his abs, disappearing under the towel wrapped around his waist. Leo had a very tempting body. Sensing my gaze, the tips of his ears turned red, but his tone remained cool. “What are you staring at?” I walked closer. I gently touched the faint scar on his side. “Does it hurt?” The skin under my fingertips tightened instantly. “Th-that was from when I was a kid. I forgot all about it.” “How did you get it?” He turned his face away, his eyelashes fluttering down unnaturally. “I got kicked by a donkey.” “Was it your stepmother?” “…That old man told you everything, didn’t he.” I looked up at him, my expression serious. “Leo, it’s okay to be vulnerable.” “You can say it when you’re in pain, you can cry when you’re sad, and you can shout it from the rooftops when you like something.” “Why do you always say the opposite of what you mean, pretending you don’t care?” I leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the scar. “It’s okay. You can keep up your tough act.” “But I’ll be here to catch all your complicated emotions, until you’re ready to show your true self.” His dark eyes burned into mine, as if my words had struck a chord deep within him. He suddenly pulled me into his arms. I could feel the frantic pounding of his heart, hear his ragged breaths. “Chloe, you’re so annoying.” “…After how I treated your brother, don’t you hate me?” My answer was gentle, but also carefully worded. “My brother’s investment failed because of his own bad luck. Paying back a debt is the right thing to do.” “If he had dealt with someone else, he might have lost more than just the use of his leg.” Leo’s heart beat even faster. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Like a lost puppy in a garden. I opened my arms, stood on my toes, and hugged him tightly. “Do you like it when I hug you like this? I want to hear the truth.” Silence stretched between us, wrapped in the soft, yellow light. After a long moment, he buried his face in my neck and mumbled a soft “yeah.” “…I like it.” “Hmm? I didn’t quite hear that.” “I… I like it when you hug me.” The smile on my face deepened. “What else do you like?” Leo’s gaze dropped to my sheer slip dress, and his eyes suddenly darkened.

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After quitting my girl group, I was forced into an arranged marriage with a man I’d never even met. The groom didn’t even show up for the wedding. He just called me. “This marriage was my family’s idea,” he said, his voice cold as ice. “As long as you don’t cause trouble, I won’t interfere with your life in any way.” “I’m already in love with someone. In two years, we’ll get a divorce, and I’ll compensate you handsomely.” So what was with the diary in his room, the one filled with page after page about how much he loved me…? 1 While I was still in school, I secretly became a trainee for a girl group, using a stage name to hide my identity. I’d like to think I worked hard. I practiced until midnight every day, sometimes even sleeping in a split. But in the end, I just wasn’t popular enough. I missed the final debut spot. My parents, on the other hand, were ecstatic. You’d think they would have set off fireworks to celebrate. The moment I graduated, they dragged me back home to marry Tag Vance, the heir to the Vance Corporation. I’d never seen the man in my life. All I’d heard were rumors—that he was aloof, ruthless, and cold-hearted. My friends all said he had the face of a saint—refined, elegant, with an almost ascetic appeal that drew people in. But in reality, he was a shark, a tyrant known for his brutal business tactics. They called him the Ice King. As my friends chatted, their tone slowly shifted from gossip to pity for me. “I’m so worried for Anna. How is she going to deal with a man that cold?” “Her life is going to be so hard from now on.” I turned off my phone, my gaze lost in the distance. All I could manage was a pair of bleak, hollow laughs. I closed the chat and logged into my fan platform account, the one with only a handful of followers. With a heavy heart, I posted the farewell message I had been preparing for weeks. 2 I might not have been a fan favorite among the trainees, but I had a few die-hard supporters. The second my farewell post went up, the familiar usernames flooded my DMs. Among the endless stream of messages, one fan stood out: ‘JV’. Throughout my four years as a trainee, he was a constant presence. Any post that mentioned me, he was there, cheering me on. He never missed a single one of my updates. If I attended an event, he would somehow post the most stunning, high-definition photos of me. He poured money and energy into promoting me, organizing fan support, and boosting my online presence. He was the ultimate stan. Other fans even called him our one-man PR team. His entire social media presence was a shrine to my best practice moments, all compiled and pinned to the top of his profile. Whenever I posted a new dance video, he would try to learn the choreography himself. He always hid his face and his movements were clumsy, but his sincerity shone through every awkward step. But it wasn’t just that. What truly made me remember him were his simple, earnest blessings, sent again and again. “Wishing you happiness and success.” No over-the-top praise, no gushing confessions of love. Just those five simple words. But today, he was different. He sent message after message, each one a mini-essay. He described the exact moment he first noticed me at a fan event, how thinking of me got him through his darkest days, how the highlight of his day was seeing a new post from me. His last message felt like the final thread of sanity he was clinging to after an emotional collapse. “I’m sorry. I know this might be overwhelming.” “But I can’t stop myself from telling you. Shani, you were a light that broke through the darkness of my life. The only color in my bleak world.” “For four years, from the moment I first saw you, you filled every day with hope.” “You’ve become an inseparable part of my life.” I read through his walls of text. Some words were misspelled, the sentences jumbled. He must have been so upset, his fingers trembling as he typed, his hands shaking so much he could barely hold his phone. Tears welled in my eyes. After I calmed down, I sent him a genuine reply. “Thank you so much for your love and support over these past four years. Wishing you happiness and success. Perhaps our paths will cross again.” 3 After replying to the last of the messages, I let out a long sigh and closed my eyes, preparing to delete the account for good. Suddenly, a notification exploded onto my screen, a breaking news alert featuring the name of my Ice King fiancé. #TagVanceBreaksDown Curiosity got the better of me. I tapped it, and a video immediately started playing. In the dim light of a car’s interior, Tag Vance’s handsome face was clearly visible. He was leaning back against the headrest, his eyes, streaked with tears, staring blankly at the ceiling. His expression slowly crumpled from sorrow into pure agony until he finally covered his face and sobbed, his whole body radiating a sense of shattered hope. The comment section was on fire. “OMG. The Ice King is crying. Did I miss the memo about the world ending today?” “Did he get possessed or something??” “This is terrifying. Demons, be gone! Leave Mr. Vance’s body at once!” “But for real, what could possibly make the great Tag Vance break down like this?” That question opened the floodgates. Some guessed he’d lost a major deal to a rival. Others speculated he was having a meltdown about being used as a pawn in an arranged marriage. Whatever the reason, I didn’t have the energy to care. I scrolled a few more times and then went to deal with the contract termination from my garbage agency. 4 That night, I collapsed onto my bed, utterly exhausted. Just as I caught my breath, my phone buzzed. It was a friend request. From the broken man in the viral video. The name was simple. “Tag Vance.” I hesitated for a moment, then decided to check his profile. His profile picture and background were solid black. He had no bio, and his username was just a period: ‘.’. He radiated a “stay away, mortals” vibe. I swept my hair from my face and, like a soldier marching to their doom, I tapped ‘accept’. Less than a second later, a voice message appeared. I pressed play, and a chill went down my spine. His tone was cold and impersonal, like he was dealing with an unpleasant task he was forced to complete, his politeness a thin veneer of civility. “Miss Anna Young, my name is Tag Vance. Your fiancé.” I was more of a texter. “Hello,” I typed back. He clearly had no interest in small talk. “Miss Young, I am already in love with someone. She is the only one for me, so I’d advise you not to waste any of your efforts on me.” “This marriage is a business transaction. I have no issue with you pursuing your own happiness; I will not stand in your way. Likewise, you will not interfere with my life.” “Furthermore, your family mentioned you have a crush on someone who’s about to return to the country. I don’t mind if you go to him. I can even provide you with a cover story.” I was so stunned the question slipped out before I could stop it. “Are you offering to help me get with my crush?” “Precisely.” “Frankly, I have no desire for any entanglements with you. The fact that you have someone else in mind is a relief.” … This was so unbelievably bizarre I didn’t know what to say. “Do you have anything else to add?” he asked after a moment of silence. “Our marriage will only last for two years,” he typed. “After two years, we will divorce. You will not try to prevent this. I have no desire for our families to be embarrassed.” “Fine by me,” I replied instantly. He seemed to relax. “In that case, there’s no need for a wedding ceremony. And we will not be expected to fulfill… marital duties.” “We also don’t need to announce our marriage publicly. I don’t want this getting out. It will be better for both of us in the long run.” I had zero objections. I agreed immediately. After laying down all his rules, Tag went silent for a long time, as if making sure he hadn’t missed anything. Twenty minutes later, a final message came through. “That should be everything for now.” “My apologies, Miss Young, but in a transaction of this nature, tangible agreements are paramount.” “To prevent any future misunderstandings, I would like to draw up a written contract for us both to sign.” “The agreement will detail everything we’ve just discussed, in addition to the division of assets post-divorce.” “How does that sound to you, Miss Young?” It sounded absolutely perfect. “Of course, Mr. Vance. Send it over when it’s ready.” “I can have it for you by tomorrow,” he replied, his tone audibly brighter. A thought occurred to me. “By the way, Mr. Vance, should we meet before we register the marriage?” His response was swift and decisive. “There’s no need to waste time. There’s nothing to see. We’ll just go directly to City Hall the day after tomorrow and sign the papers.” This was better than I could have imagined. “Perfect. No problem.” 5 At three in the morning, while I was dead asleep, Tag finalized the contract and sent it to me in three different file formats, as if he was terrified I’d back out. Even more ridiculously, at six a.m. sharp, he showed up at my door with the printed copies. My mom practically dragged me out of bed before my eyes were even open and shoved me into the bathroom. “Hurry up! Your father is downstairs trying to buy you some time!” Once she left, I crept to the top of the stairs and peeked down. Tag Vance was exactly as my friends had described. He was seated on the main sofa, his posture as perfect as a sculpture. The severe black suit was a stunning contrast to his refined, handsome face. It was a look that made you want to sin. Even sitting perfectly still, he radiated an aura of celibate allure. No wonder my dad was so proud of this match, insisting that Tag was the perfect man for me. Then, a flash of fluorescent blue caught my eye. It was the exact shade I had chosen with my fans as my official support color if I debuted. Who knew that behind that powerful, intimidating facade, Tag Vance had such a cute side, wearing a brightly colored little leather wristband. Interesting. 6 As my dad chatted with him in the living room, he kept shooting glances up the stairs, trying to signal me. Tag, however, sat like a Zen master, not even twitching an eyebrow, completely ignoring my father’s unsubtle hints. He was making it crystal clear: he had absolutely zero interest in his bride-to-be. My dad finally gave up on subtlety. “Tag, my boy, why don’t you stay for breakfast? Anna’s home, you two could finally meet.” “No, thank you.” Tag’s voice was low and final, leaving no room for argument. “We’ll have plenty of time to be tied together in the future. Missing one meeting now hardly matters. Don’t you agree, Mr. Young?” My dad opened his mouth to protest, but Tag cut him off coldly. “Well, that’s settled then. Goodbye, sir.” Before the words had even fully left his mouth, he was already striding towards the door. I happened to reach the living room just as he was leaving. He was close enough to hold the door, but he didn’t even bother to glance back. He might as well have had “NOT INTERESTED” tattooed on his back. 7 The moment he was out the door, a message popped up on my phone. “Miss Young, I’ve given the contract to your father. You can sign it after you’ve reviewed it. I’ll have my assistant pick it up.” I read the agreement from top to bottom. In addition to everything we’d discussed last night, there was a new clause at the end—any profits generated from our two-year marital alliance would be split between us. Seventy percent for me, thirty for him. This wasn’t just a number; it was set-for-life money. I read the entire contract again, counting the zeroes to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. My initial reluctance was rapidly being replaced by a giddy anxiety over this unexpected windfall. I typed back cautiously, “Mr. Vance, I noticed there aren’t any clauses in the contract regarding you and the person you’re in love with. Was that an oversight?” I had to ask. This was a lot of money. My question seemed to annoy him. “Miss Young, there’s no need to beat around the bush.” “In our society, women are often at a disadvantage in a marriage. I assure you, during our time together, you will not be made a laughingstock.” I was speechless. Even through the phone, I could picture his face—eyebrows furrowed in irritation, probably muttering under his breath, “Who does this woman think she is, meddling in my affairs?” But his typed response was carefully controlled. “I refuse to let her be seen as the other woman. Not in any capacity.” He paused. When he continued, his cold tone had softened, warmed by the thought of his beloved. “I will wait until my marriage to you is completely and cleanly dissolved. Only then will I pursue her with my whole heart, confess my feelings, and ask her to marry me.” “Of course, that’s all contingent on her not being in love with someone else, and on her consent.” Well, well. The Ice King was quite the romantic. After his sentimental outburst, he went quiet again, as if savoring the thought. Then, suddenly: “Also, send me your passport number.” “What for?” I asked, immediately on guard. “I have a business trip the day we register the marriage. I’ll be flying to the country where your crush lives.” “I might as well book you a ticket. We can say it’s our honeymoon. It fulfills my promise to provide you with a cover story and help you pursue your love. Or are you not interested?” Tag explained. I hesitated, my fingers hovering over the keyboard. He waited, and when I didn’t reply, he began to patiently persuade me. “This is a golden opportunity, Miss Young.” “A coincidence like this might not happen again.” “You should think it over carefully. An opportunity like this won’t knock twice.” I still didn’t answer. After that childhood crush ended in disaster, I had cut off all contact with that jerk. Tag persisted. “I heard from your father that you were heartbroken when he left the country.” “I have a friend who’s a relationship counselor, an expert in these sorts of situations.” “I could bring him along. Who knows, maybe you two will finally break the ice and your dream will come true.” He was starting to win me over. What the hell. I could treat it as a vacation. I sent him my passport number. “Well, thank you then, Mr. Vance.” “Don’t mention it.” His tone immediately brightened, and his attitude towards me warmed considerably. It was clear he was terrified I would actually become attached to him. 8 With the contract signed, I waited for Tag’s assistant to arrive. Just before the scheduled time, he sent me a last-minute message. “Apologies, Miss Young. I’ve been pulled into an emergency meeting, and my assistant is tied up. I’m afraid I’ll have to trouble you to bring the contract to my home.” “I’d feel more secure if you delivered it personally. It’s best we finalize this today, so we both have peace of mind.” He had a point. He was afraid I’d go back on my word. And I was afraid he’d find out I’d added a few extra zeroes to my share. I looked outside. The sky was dark, lightning splitting the clouds. A storm was brewing. Screw it. Gritting my teeth, I grabbed the contract and headed to Tag’s house. Thankfully, he lived just down the road, less than a five-minute drive. I peered through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Why did his furniture look so familiar? Where had I seen it before? I entered the code he’d given me. The layout was open and intuitive, and I quickly found his study. But… what was with the fluorescent blue door? I froze. The entire house was a symphony of black, white, and gray—minimalist, precise, and impeccably tasteful. But this one door was a jarring, brilliant slash of fluorescent blue, completely at odds with the cold, sterile aesthetic of the rest of the house. After a moment’s hesitation, I slowly pushed it open. And was immediately stunned into silence by a life-sized cardboard cutout. Good lord. It was me.

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