Category: English

My husband, Thomas Lewis, fell in love with someone else. He had another home, outside of ours. He would carry her bags, hold her when she was angry, and proudly introduce her to his friends and parents. And me, his former love, he hated with every fiber of his being. After I miscarried, he held me and told me I wasn’t worthy. I blinked back the tears, pretending not to care. “You deserve this, Sienna,” he’d said. 1 This was the fourth year of my marriage to Thomas. Everyone knew it existed in name only. They also knew he had another home, another woman. He would take her to the lavish parties of their circle. A circle I once belonged to, but was now shut out of. Thomas’s friends called her “Helen.” I heard she had charmed his parents, that on her first visit, they’d gifted her a family heirloom—a priceless jade bracelet. And me? I was Thomas’s legal wife. And only that. No love. No child. Just wasting away, day after day, year after year, in the role of Mrs. Lewis. 2 As the clock struck midnight, I blew out the candles on the long marble dining table and whispered, “Happy anniversary, Thomas.” Then, I jumped from the thirtieth-floor balcony of our penthouse in the Riverbend Estates. As I fell, I closed my eyes, a strange sense of liberation washing over me. The wind howled past my ears, and then, with a sickening thud, I hit the ground. I bounced, then fell again. Bright red blood pooled around me. My entire body screamed in agony, as if a train filled with sand had run over me again and again. I couldn’t move. Only my throat still made a hoarse, gurgling sound as I fought for air. Life was draining from me at an impossible speed, but a single thought consumed me: When Thomas sees me dead, will he feel a single pang of regret? Or will he and Helen continue their perfect life, completely untroubled? 3 Thomas arrived a little after five in the morning. His hair was a mess, as if he’d been driving with the windows down. The dampness of the cold night clung to his shoulders. He instinctively reached for a pack of cigarettes, his brow furrowed in irritation. My phone vibrated on the marble table, buzzing insistently before falling silent again. This happened several times, testing the limits of his already frayed patience. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “Sienna, what the hell are you playing at now? Get down here in five minutes.” The phone screen lit up, then went dark, lying silently on the table. I wouldn’t be answering. “If you don’t answer, don’t ever bother coming back.” I would never be coming back. Thomas stood there, his eyes downcast, his fingers unconsciously curling into a fist. He was still waiting. But I was never coming down. The old woman who lived next door called out to him. “Thomas, you’re back.” Her voice was like a crackling old radio, slow and weary. “Go… go and see… Oh, my…” Her face was a mask of unspeakable pity. In that instant, Thomas’s hand, holding his phone, dropped to his side. 4 “Based on the security footage, Ms. Su appears to have taken her own life.” The young police officer sat across from him, his hands clasped on the table, his expression grave. “If there are no further questions, please sign here.” A thick report lay open in front of Thomas. Black ink on white paper, officially declaring my death. Thomas didn’t even glance at it. He just sat there, silent. The officer swallowed hard. “Mr. Lewis, if you have no objections, please sign. We will then proceed with transferring Ms. Su to the morgue.” Thomas remained silent, as if he had retreated to another world, detached from everything. Just as the young officer resigned himself to a long wait, Thomas spoke. “Was it painful for her?” “Well… uh…” The officer was taken aback, clearly not expecting that question after such a long silence. Before he could answer, Thomas let out a faint, cold snort, as if realizing the stupidity of his own question. His pale lips moved. “Sorry. Forget I asked.” He snatched the report and scrawled his name across the signature line. The force of his pen was so great the ink seemed to bleed through to the next page. The young officer opened the door. “Please, follow me.” Thomas stood, his long legs striding forward, once again the unflappable business elite. In the narrow corridor, the officer’s voice was hesitant. “Mr. Lewis, I need to warn you. Your wife’s… body is not intact.” His voice grew quieter. “Falling from such a height… there was a significant impact, and then a rebound.” He paused. “You should prepare yourself.” Thomas just grunted in acknowledgment and said nothing more. The officer glanced up at him and sighed. He’d done his duty. When they reached the morgue, the attendants followed procedure and wheeled “me” out. Thomas gave the gurney a cursory glance, then, with an unnervingly calm expression, he helped the police with the transfer to the cold room. The young officer kept stealing glances at him. He remembered his own reaction at the scene—he’d thrown up until he was dizzy. My body had been shattered by the fall. My limbs were broken, hanging limply. My head was crushed, my face a mask of thick, congealed blood that matted my hair. I was no longer recognizable as a person. The fear of death is etched into the human psyche. Few people could look upon such a sight with Thomas’s chilling composure. When it was all over, Thomas stood in the darkness, his hands in his pockets. “Can I go now?” The young officer, stunned, just nodded. Thomas turned and walked away without a backward glance. As if my entire existence had meant nothing to him. 5 Thomas didn’t go to Helen’s. He went back to our home. When Helen called, he soothed her in a low, gentle voice. “Helen, I’m fine. You don’t need to come over.” She must have been offering words of comfort, because he murmured “mm-hmm” occasionally to placate her. Then, his voice rose slightly, a hint of anger creeping in. “Helen, Sienna’s suicide was her choice. She deserved it. It has nothing to do with you.” His narrow eyes darkened. “If there’s any retribution to be had, let it come for me.” There was a moment of silence on the other end. Thomas, realizing his tone had been too harsh, softened his voice. “Helen, go to bed early. Don’t make me worry.” The room fell silent. He lay back on the American-style sofa, his eyes closed, as still as a statue. Just when I thought he had fallen asleep, I heard a barely audible, deeply sarcastic whisper. “Idiot…” An idiot? Yes, I was. How else could I have been with him for ten years before realizing he loved someone else? How else could I have, after exposing his lies, stubbornly insisted on marrying him anyway? 6 Thomas and I were college sweethearts. From the very beginning, his parents disapproved. The concept of “matching social status” was a mountain between us. Thomas came from wealth, a golden boy who’d never wanted for anything. All his life’s hardships, it seemed, were because of me. First, my initial indifference, which only made him fall for a quiet, complicated woman like me. Second, when he fell for someone else, I trapped him with a child, forcing him into a marriage he didn’t want. I remember the day I showed him the positive pregnancy test. The pain in his eyes was visceral. “Sienna, you’re manipulating me.” But I was consumed by a desire for mutual destruction. I laughed scornfully. “Thomas, are you going to take responsibility or not?” He eventually gave in, out of guilt or a sense of duty. It didn’t matter. I had won. When Helen heard the news, she slit her wrists. Thomas abandoned me to rush to her side at the hospital. While he was gone, I went to a clinic for an abortion. As the cold instruments entered my body, I thought of the rainy night Thomas’s parents had summoned me for a “talk.” When he heard, he waited for me outside my dorm, anxious and rain-soaked. The wind whipped his hair, his nose was red from the cold. He approached me cautiously. “Sia…” I gave a noncommittal hum. He tentatively tugged at the corner of my sleeve. “Do you still want me?” he whispered. When had the pampered young master ever looked so pathetic? As I stumbled out of the clinic, clutching the wall for support, I ran right into him. He was holding a takeout container. He saw me and took two steps back, as if facing an enemy. “Sienna, what more do you want? Helen can’t handle any more stress. Whatever you have to say, we can talk about it at home. Don’t make a scene.” He tried to push me out of the hospital. The rough handling made me cry out in pain, but he didn’t seem to hear, continuing to push. I froze. Does he love her that much? I had only smiled at him. I hadn’t even said a word. Yet he was convinced I was there to hurt her. A stubborn defiance rose in me. I shook off his hand and marched to the information desk, loudly asking for Helen’s room number. He lunged forward and clamped a hand over my mouth, his breath hot with a warning. “Sienna, that’s enough.” His eyes were filled with an intense irritation, his face screaming that I was being unreasonable. He really loves her, I thought. Loves her enough to ignore my obvious weakness, to stand against me without a second thought. I bit down on his hand, hard, but he wouldn’t let go. I stomped on his foot, but he didn’t flinch. I thrashed in his grip, but he held me tight. Finally, exhausted and overwhelmed by a surge of rage, I fainted. Only then did he realize something was wrong. 7 Blinding white light filled my vision. Thomas sat by my bed, chain-smoking. “You hate me that much,” he said, his eyes red as if he’d been crying. His gaze was fixed on my stomach. “So much that you’d kill our child.” At that moment, I was so consumed by hatred that I wanted to hurt him with the cruelest words I could find. A needle only hurts when it pierces your own skin, right? “Yes, Thomas. I killed him to get back at you.” His voice trembled. “Our problems were between us. Why did you have to bring a child into it?” Why bring a child into it? I wanted to ask him the same question. But what I said was, “If you had ended things with Helen, he wouldn’t be dead. You killed him. You and Helen, you killed him together.” “Sienna—” He cut me off, his voice sharp. “Don’t you dare bring Helen into this. She didn’t know anything.” God, I wanted to laugh. Even now, he was protecting her. “Thomas,” I said, looking straight at him. “I never realized you were so stupid. Did Helen not know she was hurting me, or did she not know she was being a mistress?” His brow furrowed. “Sienna, don’t be so aggressive. There’s nothing between Helen and me.” Aggressive? I stared at the man yelling at me. He was a stranger. A complete stranger. I looked at him and sneered. “Thomas, your hypocrisy disgusts me. You and Helen both deserve to die.” He flinched, then grabbed my shoulders, a sudden, sharp laugh escaping his lips. “Sienna, do you have any idea what the consequences of this will be?” Consequences? I just wanted to tear them both to shreds. I stared at him. “I, Sienna Su, can afford any consequence.” My defiance flushed his face with anger. He gasped for breath. We were like two cornered animals, ready to tear each other apart. Then, he pulled me into a tight embrace, as if we were lovers again. He whispered in my ear, so softly I could barely hear. “Sienna, you know… after Helen recovered, I was going to start over with you.” He paused, a cruel twist to his lips. “But you’re not worthy.” He enunciated each word, infusing them with all his hatred. “Don’t worry, I won’t divorce you. I want you to watch as Helen and I live a long, happy life together. I want you to suffer in the role of Mrs. Lewis.” Silence filled the room. For a fleeting moment, I saw the seventeen-year-old Thomas again, tugging at my sleeve, asking, “Sia, do you still want me…” “Fine.” Fine, Thomas. I still want you. So please, don’t ever make me sad again. Grief was a dull knife, slowly carving up my heart. The pain was unbearable. But I hugged him back. I heard myself reply, my voice light and quick, “Then I wish you two a love stronger than gold, inseparable even in death.” 8 Thomas was a man of his word. He moved out of our marital home that very night, setting up a new love nest for himself and Helen in a villa across town. I barely saw him, except at necessary functions. News of their life together came to me through Monica, the girlfriend of one of Thomas’s close friends. Monica never understood my feud with Thomas. She thought I should have just played dumb, married him, and dealt with Helen later. Men like Thomas, she said, usually tired of their flings. By confronting him, I was only creating a stronger bond between him and Helen. I was handing Helen the knife to stab me with. I just gave a noncommittal “hmm.” Monica was right. Thomas’s parents had said the same thing after my miscarriage. They called my actions foolish and self-destructive, a waste of my top-tier education. But I had seen the pure, fierce love of the seventeen-year-old Thomas. I couldn’t accept this betrayal. I chose to be foolish. I chose to crash and burn. I chose the most painful, most tragic way to show him my pain. Thomas had a soft heart. I wanted to drag him down into misery with me, to a place where neither of us could find release. Only when he hurt would I be happy. It was just as his parents had said to me years ago: “Sienna, your family background is… complicated. Children from homes like yours tend to be extreme. We don’t want our son to get hurt.” Their words had been a prophecy. I jumped off a building to get my revenge.

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After a wedding three months in the planning, one night was all it took for me to decide on a divorce. The reason was simple: my new husband, Gary, transferred a thousand dollars to my account before we went to bed. Then, in the middle of the night, another two thousand appeared. The memo on the second transfer read: “Final Payment.” I couldn’t stomach it. The next morning, I announced my intention to divorce him right in front of his parents. My new in-laws, their hands still outstretched with wedding gifts, were stunned into silence. Gary slammed his hand on the table and shot to his feet, pointing a trembling finger at my face. “I sent you that money because I care about you! What is this drama now?” My voice was ice. “I’d love to know in what world ‘caring’ for someone involves splitting a payment into a deposit and a final installment.” 1 “Audrey Vance!” Gary’s voice was a mixture of fury and disbelief. “We just got married! Are you trying to start a power struggle on day one? Isn’t it a little soon for that?” “I’ll have the papers drawn up by noon,” I said, my tone flat, refusing to engage with his tantrum. “I’ll come find you then. We should go to the courthouse as soon as they’re signed.” Without another word, I turned and walked out. My mother-in-law’s hand, still holding a gift, was frozen in mid-air. My father-in-law just looked bewildered, completely lost as to what could have possibly imploded between us in a single night. Gary himself was momentarily stunned. He clearly hadn’t expected my resolve to be this absolute, this unshakeable. I had my lawyer draft the divorce agreement with lightning speed and took it directly to his office at Cross Enterprises. As I stepped out of the elevator, I saw his parents waiting for me outside his office. He had obviously called them, hoping they could talk me down. I ignored them and walked straight toward the door. But Gary’s secretary, Lily Marsh, stepped into my path. “Mrs. Cross, Gary is in a meeting. No one is allowed to disturb him.” Her voice was professionally polite, but her eyes held a different story. “And he told me what happened. You asking for a divorce on the first day… Audrey, as a fellow woman, I’m advising you to know when to quit.” She leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Don’t forget how good he’s been to you. You wanted to see the Northern Lights, and he dropped everything to fly around the world with you. You mentioned off-hand that you didn’t feel like cooking, and he took a three-month culinary course. A man like that is a unicorn. If you keep this up, you’ll find yourself in a mess you can’t get out of.” Her words, especially “asking for a divorce,” were just loud enough to draw the attention of nearby employees. They began to drift closer, chiming in. “Lily’s right. Mr. Cross turned down a multi-million dollar deal just to be with you. That’s how much he loves you.” “Exactly, Mrs. Cross. Don’t mind us saying so, but he’s a rare find. You should treasure him!” Just as their chorus of unsolicited advice reached its peak, the office door swung open. Gary emerged, giving Lily a grateful look. She responded with a knowing, gentle smile. He then turned to me, his expression a mask of sincerity, and took my hands in his. “Audrey, I know you’ve always been so supportive and understanding of everything I do. Is this because I didn’t send the money all at once? Did it lack a sense of ceremony? Is that why you feel hurt?” He squeezed my hands. “Or is there something else I don’t know? Please, just tell me, and we can fix it together. Okay?” His parents moved through the small crowd to join him. “He’s right, Audrey,” his father said gently. “I don’t know what happened between you two last night, but I’m sure it was something small. Can’t you just talk it through?” “Did this boy do something to upset you?” his mother added, her tone warm and placating. “Don’t you worry, I’m on your side. I’ll make him apologize.” Everyone watched me, expecting me to soften, to yield. My in-laws treated me like a child throwing a temporary tantrum. After all, they had witnessed the long and often difficult journey Gary and I had taken to get to this point. But I ignored their expectant faces, yanked my hands from Gary’s grasp, and said, my voice cutting through the air, “There’s nothing to talk about. I’m done with you.” The office fell silent. You could have heard a pin drop. “What are you talking about? We just got married…” Gary’s eyes started to redden, as if he couldn’t process my words. “Let me repeat myself so you understand. I’m. Done. With. You. I’m cutting my losses.” With that, I pulled the divorce agreement from my bag and slapped it against his chest. I turned to leave. “Get it signed. My time is limited.” I didn’t get far. Lily grabbed my arm, her grip so tight it left an immediate red mark on my wrist. Her face was twisted in a mask of indignation. “Could you stop being so unreasonable? You’re an embarrassment to women everywhere!” she hissed. “Who else would put up with you? If Gary hadn’t interned at your father’s company back in the day, you’d still be some lonely old spinster. You should be thanking him, not making a federal case out of nothing!” I met her glare with a cold stare of my own. “This has nothing to do with you. You’re his secretary. Know your place.” Lily jutted out her chin. “I’m speaking for everyone here! Who in this office agrees with what you’re doing?” she challenged. “They’re too afraid of you to say anything, but I’m not. Our Gary doesn’t deserve this.” She tightened her grip. “Apologize to him right now, or you can kiss your position as the CEO’s wife goodbye!” My hand shot out, and the sharp crack of a slap silenced the room. A collective gasp went through the crowd. “I’d be delighted!” I spat. Gary exploded. “Audrey, don’t push your luck! How dare you hit Lily!” He shoved me forcefully, sending me stumbling back several feet, before rushing to Lily’s side, fussing over her with frantic concern. He then positioned himself in front of her, a human shield protecting her from me. “You two seem close,” I observed, raising an eyebrow. My comment only seemed to fuel the crowd’s disapproval. The murmurs started again, painting me as the unhinged, jealous wife who couldn’t admit when she was wrong. Lily clutched Gary’s arm from behind, her voice dripping with manufactured sweetness. “Gary, it’s my fault. I just couldn’t stand to see you being treated like that. Maybe Audrey is just acting out because she loves you so much. I won’t say another word, I don’t want to make her angry again.” She pouted, looking as if she were the one who had been deeply wronged. “Thank you, Lily,” Gary said, patting her hand. “This is my fault for dragging you into it.” He turned back to me, his voice softening into a placating tone. “Audrey, stop this. Look how upset you’ve made Lily. Let’s talk about this at home, behind closed doors. We can talk after I finish work, okay? I’ll buy you whatever you want.” By the end, he was practically begging, performing the role of the doting, patient husband for his audience. He was painting me into a corner, making me out to be the irrational one. His father stepped in to deliver the final blow. “Audrey, we all see how much you’ve supported our family. None of us want this. If you agree to stop this nonsense, I’ll have Gary transfer another ten percent of his company shares to you. How does that sound?” The employees who had been defending Lily all exchanged looks of sudden understanding. “So that’s what this is about.” Gary nodded eagerly, his eyes pleading with me. “Honey, I’ll give you any amount of money you want. Just please, don’t divorce me.” “Think whatever you want. Give it to me, don’t give it to me, I don’t care. You’re signing those papers.” My expression didn’t change. “Audrey Vance!” His mother, who had been silent until now, finally lost her temper. “Your first day as a wife and you’re already acting lawless! What will you be like in the future? He’s not giving you the shares, and he’s not signing anything. You had better take back that agreement and stop this now. And don’t you forget,” she added, her voice dropping to a low threat, “your father’s company is still waiting for us to bail it out.” The mention of my father was a clear warning. The onlookers smirked, waiting for my inevitable surrender. But I ignored them all, turned on my heel, and walked away. 2 Downstairs, my cousin Leo was waiting for me, sent by my father. He opened the door to a sleek black car as I approached. “I saw the pictures you sent,” he said as he gently guided me in, making sure I didn’t hit my head. “The information is solid. My associates will have the rest of the proof by this afternoon.” “Thank you,” I said, leaning back against the leather seat. As a private investigator, Leo’s relationship with my family was purely transactional, and I was fine with that. “I’m suing Gary for divorce, and I plan to take him for everything he’s worth. This evidence is crucial.” Sometimes, a clean transaction is more reliable than a messy emotion. The pictures I’d sent Leo were screenshots from Gary’s phone, taken while he slept last night. They showed a series of strange expenses on regular workdays, for the exact same amounts he had transferred to me. The recipient was a high-end, exclusive private club, the kind frequented by the rich and powerful. The wait for the court date gave me enough time to get my affairs in order, to prepare for a clean break. I moved out of the house I had shared with Gary and into a small apartment my father had bought for me years ago. But just as my preparations were underway, rumors about me started to circulate online. That evening, at a charity gala, I became the subject of pointed whispers and sideways glances. “Isn’t that the new Mrs. Cross? The one who demanded a divorce after one night? The nerve of her to show her face.” “Oh, that’s her? I heard her father basically sold her into that marriage. Who does she think she is, trying to get a divorce? She’s going to drag her whole family down with her.” “So Gary didn’t give her enough money? Does she really think she’s in a position to be throwing tantrums?” “I bet she’s found another man. Gary Cross is young and successful. If I were her, I’d never let him go.” Everyone, from established business tycoons to rising young stars, looked at me with a mixture of scorn and amusement. I felt a surge of anger and was about to call Gary to confront him when his voice cut through the ballroom chatter. “Audrey! You’re here! This is perfect.” His sudden appearance made the gossipers exchange nervous glances. “You haven’t been home for days,” he said, walking toward me. “I had to beg my mother, but she finally agreed to let me give this to you.” He produced a velvet box and opened it to reveal an exquisite emerald heirloom. A wave of gasps went through the nearby crowd. “Isn’t that the Cross family heirloom? The one his mother inherited? She said publicly she would only ever give it to her daughter-in-law.” “He must really love her. Even after all her ridiculous behavior, he begged his mother to give her the family emerald.” “That’s so romantic! Audrey is so lucky.” They all expected me to melt, to take this as the grand romantic gesture it was designed to be and gracefully back down. But my voice was still cold as I pushed the box away. “No, thank you. You should save it for someone else. After all, we’re getting a divorce.” My words dropped like a bomb in the silent room. Gary froze, his face a mask of shock. The crowd erupted, a chorus of angry voices accusing me of being ungrateful, of taking his love for granted. I ignored them, excused myself from the party, and took a cab to Gary’s house—the marital home where I had spent a single, miserable night. While Gary and I were living in different cities before the wedding, I had gotten a puppy. After we got married, I had, of course, brought him to our new home. In my hasty departure, I hadn’t been able to take him with me. Now, I was going back for him. I keyed in the code to the front door. ACCESS DENIED. Frowning, I tried again with my birthday. Then Gary’s. All incorrect. As I was about to try a fourth time, the door opened from the inside. I hadn’t expected anyone to be home. I certainly hadn’t expected that person to be Lily Marsh. 3 When she saw it was me, a triumphant smirk flickered across her lips before she replaced it with a look of feigned surprise. “Oh, Audrey! What are you doing back at this hour?” she chirped. “I’m so sorry, I was already asleep. I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long.” I looked past her into the house. “What are you doing here?” “Oh, Gary got a little drunk last night, so I brought him home. I just ended up crashing here for the night. I hope you don’t mind,” she said with a breezy confidence. “And the password?” “Oh my gosh, that’s my fault!” Lily smacked her forehead dramatically. “Gary said it wasn’t safe for me to be here alone with the old password, so he changed it to my birthday. I honestly didn’t think you’d be coming back…” Her face was a picture of apology, but her eyes danced with mockery. I gave a noncommittal nod and pushed past her. I could hear the frantic scratching of my dog, Buddy, on the sofa. “Hey, you didn’t take off your shoes!” Lily called after me. I ignored her. The sight that greeted me made my heart clench. My little furball was a mess of anxiety, visibly thinner than when I’d last seen him. He looked up at me with wide, pleading eyes. This wasn’t the time to deal with Lily. I scooped Buddy into my arms, ready to leave. But then I heard the shattering of ceramic. A shard from a broken bowl flew past me, nicking my calf and drawing blood. But Lily was far more ruthless. I watched in disbelief as she took another piece and deliberately dragged it across her own forearm, creating a much deeper, more dramatic gash, before dropping the shard at her feet. At that exact moment, the front door opened again. Gary walked in to the sight of Lily, clutching her bleeding arm. “Audrey, what the hell are you doing?!” he roared. He rushed to Lily’s side, pressing a hand to her wound to stop the bleeding, then glared at me with pure fury. “Lily is just staying here temporarily! Did you have to hurt her like this?” Lily grabbed his hand. “Gary, don’t blame Audrey. She was just upset. It was my fault, I should have moved faster.” Her words only fanned the flames of his anger. He picked up the shard from the floor and hurled it at me. “I can’t believe you’re so petty, so consumed by jealousy that you’d stoop to this!” I dodged, but a piece still grazed my cheek, leaving a small, stinging cut. Fine. If this was the game he wanted to play, I wouldn’t bother explaining myself. “Believe whatever you want. I’ll see you in court.” For a second, Gary’s eyes widened in genuine shock. I continued, my voice steady. “You’re not willing to part ways peacefully, so I’m suing for divorce. You can expect a summons from the court.” Lily looked indignant. “Audrey, Gary keeps giving you chances, and you just keep pushing him. Have you completely lost your mind?” “Shut up!” Gary snapped, pulling Lily back without even looking at her. He turned his pained gaze on me. “Audrey, do you really have to take it this far?” Hearing the hurt in his voice, Lily looked as if she’d been slapped, frozen in place. I just looked away, stroking my trembling dog to calm him down. Gary’s eyes finally fell on Buddy, noticing how thin and frail he looked. A new wave of disbelief washed over his face. “You’re really set on this divorce?” “What do you think?” I said, turning and walking toward the door. “Audrey, this is your choice! Don’t you dare regret it later!” he shouted after me, his voice raw with rage. I didn’t look back.

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I sold my house and blew $990,000 on a card-breaking livestream. The whole internet thought I was insane, just waiting for me to lose everything. All I did was post a single comment in the chat. “You promised that if someone spent a million dollars and didn’t pull the grand prize, you’d pay out a hundred times the cost. Well, I didn’t just spend a million, I’ve just dropped another million. Let’s see how much you can afford to lose.” In my past life, my son stole my life-saving surgery money for that very card, a theft that led to my death. But that “ultra-rare card” had been stashed away by the streamer the entire time, gathering dust in a warehouse. Reborn, I would make them pay. I would leave them with nothing. 1 The streamer, “Ace’s Breaks,” and his co-host, Nina, couldn’t wipe the grins off their faces. “Alright, chat! Let’s give it up for our girl Serenity! Serenity, you’re already in for nine hundred and eighty grand!” Ace boomed, scooping up a pile of opened packs for an assistant to clear away. “Serenity, you should probably call it a night! Don’t get carried away! This solid gold chase card, the Golden Minotaur, there are only ten in the entire world. It’s not gonna be an easy pull!” Nina covered her mouth, giggling. “Don’t say that, Ace. What if Serenity is the chosen one? You got this, girl! Go for it! Nina’s rooting for you! The very next pack could be the one!” The chat was a waterfall of text. “HOLY S**T, is this woman for real or just crazy? $980,000!” “I did the math. The streamer’s opened 9,800 packs. At $100 a pack, that’s almost a million bucks! For one piece of cardboard?” “Probably some accountant who embezzled company funds.” On my side of the screen, my face was a mask of stone as I ordered another hundred packs. The purchase confirmation sent a shockwave through the livestream. Ace roared with laughter. “I’m impressed! Genuinely impressed! Serenity, to thank you for your incredible support, I’ll stay here all night if I have to. I’ll open every last pack myself!” Nina chimed in. “She’s an absolute legend! Chat, spam those good-luck emotes! Let’s send Serenity all our energy!” I watched the two of them, my eyes cold as ice. In my last life, they used the exact same lines to manipulate my son, Leo. Leo stole the fifty thousand dollars I needed for my heart bypass surgery and poured every cent into this stream. By the time I found out, it was too late. The shock sent me into a spiral, and I collapsed. My life ended on the cold tile floor of a hospital bathroom. After I died, I watched as my relatives pointed fingers at Leo, calling him a curse, a bad omen. And I watched as Ace and Nina, after their stream ended, retrieved the Golden Minotaur from their warehouse. They called their boss, gloating. “Boss, you’re a genius! This ‘Million-Dollar Payout’ promise is the perfect bait. Who’s crazy enough to actually spend a million on trading cards? With the card in our hands, we decide when—and if—it ever gets pulled.” When I opened my eyes again, I was reborn. This time, I sold my only house and scraped together three million dollars. You’re so sure no one would spend a million to call your bluff? I’m not just going to spend it. I’m going to spend until you have nothing left to your name. 2 “Lisa! Are you insane?! You actually sold the house?!” My sister Eva’s voice was a shriek over the phone. “That was the only thing you and your husband had left! What about Leo? Where are you going to live?!” I listened calmly to her desperate, uncomprehending cries. My eyes were fixed on the screen, on Ace, who was now mechanically ripping open packs like an automaton. A cold smile touched my lips. “Lisa, stop that creepy smiling! Did someone scam you? I’m calling the police right now!” Eva was on the verge of tears. “Eva, don’t worry about me. I know what I’m doing.” “You know what you’re doing? And that involves selling your house?” I hung up. I knew she meant well. After I died in my past life, she was the one who fought for me, who demanded justice. But Ace’s company smeared her as an extortionist, and she eventually succumbed to depression. This time, I wouldn’t let anyone I loved get hurt. Soon, another hundred packs were opened. Still no Golden Minotaur. When I didn’t immediately place another order, the tone of the chat shifted. “Where’d she go? The rich lady finally go quiet? Ran out of cash?” “LMAO, $990,000 down the drain. She’s probably waiting in line for a spot on the nearest rooftop.” Nina put on a worried expression. “Serenity, are you still there? Please don’t scare us. Card breaking is supposed to be fun, don’t do anything drastic.” Ace sighed, a perfect picture of fake sincerity. “Sigh. We always tell everyone to be responsible with their spending. This lady just wouldn’t listen. Nina, maybe we should call the police? If something happens, we can’t be held responsible.” In a flash, they had washed their hands of the situation, a move that earned them praise for being “conscientious streamers.” I transferred another million dollars into my account and placed my next order. “Ace… Serenity just bought ten thousand one hundred more packs of the Mythic Realms collector’s edition!” Nina’s voice trembled. The screen exploded with question marks and exclamations of “NO WAY.” Ace’s smile froze on his face. He never, in his wildest dreams, imagined someone would actually throw away over a million dollars chasing a single card. He swallowed hard, taking a huge gulp of water to steady his nerves. “Ahem… Serenity, what are you doing? This has to be a joke, right? I really think you should stop. I’ll have my assistant cancel the order for you.” His voice was now laced with a tremor he couldn’t hide. Seeing his panic, I initiated a paid video call, a premium feature on the platform that streamers couldn’t refuse. My voice filled the broadcast. “Don’t panic, Ace. The rules of your stream… I remember them correctly, don’t I? If a customer spends a million dollars and doesn’t pull the Golden Minotaur, you pay out one hundred times the cost of the packs. Am I right?” The chat, which had been mocking me moments before, fell silent. Everyone was stunned. Ace and Nina’s faces went white as sheets. “Ma’am, you… you can’t be serious. That’s just for show, you know? To make the stream more exciting…” Ace stammered, his earlier composure completely gone. “For show?” I pressed. “Behind you, on that wall, written in bold, crimson letters, are the words: ‘MILLION DOLLAR PULL OR 100X PAYOUT.’ And you’re telling me now that’s just for show?” As if remembering, Ace whipped his head around. The massive sign on his wall seemed to mock him, and beads of sweat broke out on his forehead. The viewers started catching on. “WHOA! He’s right! That rule is real! I always thought it was just hype!” “I remember that! Ace says it all the time, daring some whale to take the challenge!” “A hundred times a million… that’s a HUNDRED MILLION DOLLARS!” “Oh my god! This is getting serious!” “The streamer’s not gonna back out now, is he? This is gonna be epic!” The tide of public opinion had turned. Ace stared at the chat, his lips trembling, unable to form a single word. He shot a desperate look at Nina, but she just lowered her head, avoiding his gaze. Just then, my son, Leo, burst into the room. He had clearly been watching the stream, and his face was flushed. “Mom! Is that you on Ace’s stream?! Have you gone crazy? Where did we get that kind of money?! Stop! Cancel the order, right now!” 3 It was the first time I had seen my son since being reborn. Looking at his distraught face, my heart felt like it was being twisted by a knife. But I pushed him away, my voice as cold as steel. “Get out. Now.” “Mom! The teachers said gambling is illegal! You’ll go to jail! I don’t want you to go to jail!” Leo sobbed, falling to his knees and clinging to my legs, begging me to stop. “Get out!” I roared. Leo froze, stunned by my outburst. I had never, ever been this harsh with him. But this was for his own good, to break his addiction to these cards, and to fuel my revenge. Steeling myself, I scooped him up, carried him out of the room, and locked the door. I ignored his frantic cries and banging on the door, my resolve unshaken. After dealing with Leo, I fought back my tears and turned my attention back to the livestream. Ace and Nina, having overheard the commotion, saw an opportunity. Ace’s face contorted into an expression of righteous indignation. “Serenity! That is unacceptable! How could you do something like this in front of your child? You’re teaching him to gamble! How can you call yourself a mother?” Nina’s eyes immediately welled up with tears. “Please, ma’am, stop this. Think of your son, look how scared he is. You can always earn more money, but you can’t replace your family! For his sake, please, stop this madness!” They had seized the moral high ground, painting me as a degenerate, unfit mother. The chat erupted again. “Wow, I’m sick. She’s using her kid’s money to gamble?” “What a psycho! She doesn’t deserve to be a mother!” “Streamer, call the cops! This is child abuse!” I watched the screen, a bitter smile on my face. In my past life, this is exactly what they said about me. I ignored their performance and pressed on. “Stop trying to pin labels on me. First, answer my question, Ace. One million dollars and no card means you pay me a hundred million. Is the promise you advertise every single day valid or not? If it’s not, then refund my money.” Backed into a corner, Ace knew he couldn’t talk his way out of it. He grit his teeth and forced a smile. “Alright! Serenity, since you’ve got the guts, then Ace’s Breaks will play along!” He slammed his hand on the table. “I’ll open them! I’ll open every single pack right here, in front of hundreds of thousands of people! If I don’t pull two Golden Minotaurs out of these next ten thousand one hundred packs, I will personally pay you two hundred million dollars! I, Ace, am a man of my word!” He was calling my bluff with a gamble of his own. He was betting that he could produce one Golden Minotaur from my next million-dollar order. They were clever, phrasing it as two cards for the combined two-million-dollar purchase. This would give them an excuse to go to the “warehouse” to get more stock, where they would insert the hidden card into a pack. If they pulled one, the crisis would be averted. If they didn’t, the hours it would take to open ten thousand packs gave them more than enough time to forge a card and reseal it. It would make for amazing television and get them out of the payout. It was a classic trick of theirs. I watched Ace’s face, twisted with a desperate excitement, and sneered internally. He’s finally taken the bait. He’s living up to the persona he created. The real show was about to begin.

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After my family went bankrupt, I was forced into a marriage with my arch-nemesis. Every day was an exercise in hate. I was his canary for three years. Then I got pregnant. And he got hit by a car and lost his memory. Clutching the ultrasound report, I rushed from the maternity ward to his hospital room, only to hear him screaming in a rage. “A divorce! I want a divorce, right here, right now! “Forcing me to live with my own nemesis—an Alpha, no less—for the rest of my life? You might as well just fucking kill me! It’s disgusting…” My hand tightened around the report, a chill seeping into my heart. I turned, ready to head straight for the abortion clinic, but a hand grabbed my ankle. Adrian Sterling, crawling on the floor, looked up at me, rubbing his nose with a bashful grin. “Heh, David Bright, what are you doing here? “I heard my family is bankrupt now. How about you take me home as your trophy husband… and humiliate me to your heart’s content?” 1 I was still reeling from the news about Adrian when the doctor’s voice cut through the fog in my head. My hand, slick with sweat, was balled into a fist. “This morning sickness isn’t a stomach bug, it’s pregnancy,” he said, peering at me over his glasses. “You’re already three months along. Why are you only just coming in for a check-up? Where’s your partner? Why isn’t he with you? Are you divorced?” The barrage of questions made the world spin. I clapped a hand over my mouth, another wave of nausea hitting me. It took me a long moment to compose myself in the restroom before I could return, my voice raspy. “Doctor, I’m an Alpha. S-Class.” The doctor just pushed his glasses up his nose, unfazed. “And? S-Class Alphas can still conceive if you’re… active enough. The reproductive cavity doesn’t just vanish. So, I take it you and your partner are intimate quite often?” I averted my gaze, my throat suddenly dry. Often was an understatement. For the past three years, to “humiliate” me, Adrian had fulfilled his duties as my “patron” with a cold, relentless fury. He pinned me down day and night, our encounters filled with a frigid hate. My dormant reproductive system had been practically drilled back into existence by him. The textbooks said the probability of an Alpha pregnancy was infinitesimally small, so I’d never given it a second thought. I didn’t take pills. We didn’t use protection. I never thought I’d hit this particular jackpot. After thanking the doctor, I walked out in a daze, my mind a complete blank. I was debating whether to call Adrian when my phone buzzed with an incoming call from his number. It was his best friend, Leo. “David, you need to get to the downtown hospital, now! Adrian was in a car accident. He has amnesia!” 2 The maternity ward wasn’t far from the main hospital wing. When I arrived, Leo stopped me at the door, his face grim. “David, you need to brace yourself before you go in. Adrian hit his head and messed up his leg. He’s got a concussion and a limp. But the worst part is… he’s lost his memory. He doesn’t seem to remember anyone. That probably includes you.” I nodded, my mind racing. I just wanted to see him. But as I took a step toward the door, a crash echoed from inside, followed by a roar of pure despair. “A divorce! I want one immediately! Dad, how could I possibly marry a man? My arch-nemesis? An Alpha?! Tell me the truth, did the family go bankrupt? Did you sell your only son to pay off a debt? Tell me!” Adrian’s father sounded exhausted, rubbing his temples. “Bankrupt my ass! Do you think I like your husband? Do you think your mother and I supported this marriage? Three years ago, you were the one who was dead set on marrying him! I broke your leg trying to stop you, and you ended up right here, in this very hospital room!” 3 I froze in my tracks. Adrian had gotten his leg broken fighting to marry me? He’d never mentioned a word of it. All I remembered was that before he’d reluctantly flown overseas with me to sign the marriage certificate, he had disappeared for three whole months. The reason he gave was that his parents adored me and wanted me as their son-in-law. He had always acted like he was being forced. “If that’s the case, then that bastard Alpha must have some dirt on me! He must have blackmailed me!” Adrian, with a bandage wrapped around his head, slapped his forehead dramatically. “Dad, just pay him off! I don’t care how much it costs, I have to divorce him! The smell of another Alpha’s pheromones makes me want to puke. How could you just stand by and watch me suffer for three years…?” “Suffer? Want to puke?” Mr. Sterling scoffed, a humorless laugh escaping him. “Every time I came to see you, you were practically draped all over him! A so-called Alpha, reeking of another man’s scent from head to toe. How did I end up with such a pathetic excuse for a son…” Adrian clutched his head, completely breaking down. “What kind of blackmail could make me act so spineless?! I don’t care, whatever it takes, this marriage is over! Forcing me to live with my nemesis for the rest of my life? You might as well just fucking kill me! It’s disgusting…” My fingers tightened around the ultrasound report, my body rigid. A storm of conflicting emotions churned inside me. It seemed our arrangement was truly at its end. And I knew what I had to do about the baby. I rubbed my stinging eyes, crumpled the report into a tight ball, and tossed it into a nearby trash can without a second thought. But as I turned to head for the abortion clinic, something latched onto my ankle, holding me fast. I looked down, confused. Adrian had crawled over to me. He rubbed his nose, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “Heh, David Bright, what are you doing here? You’re the only one I remember! I heard my family’s bankrupt now. How about you take me home as your trophy husband… and humiliate me to your heart’s content?” Me: “?” 4 Adrian’s father: “??” He stormed over and slapped Adrian square across the face. “You ungrateful brat! We’re still on the goddamn Forbes list! Don’t you dare curse your old man!” Adrian, with his injured leg, couldn’t fight back. He just clung to my leg for dear life, refusing to let go. “David, you’re the only one I remember! You can’t leave!” Another slap from his father. “So you don’t even remember your own dad, but you remember your nemesis? You’re really trying to kill me with filial piety, aren’t you…” “Sir, I’m sorry, it’s my fault.” Fearing Adrian would be beaten into a permanent vegetative state, I quickly stepped in front of him, shielding him from his father’s wrath. But the already brain-damaged Adrian just stared at me, bewildered. “David, why did you call my father ‘sir’? What’s your relationship with him?!” His voice rose to a shrill shriek. “Dad! Please tell me he’s not my long-lost brother! Tell me—Ah!” “…” The third slap came, not from his father, but from me. His screeching was making me nauseous. 5 Mr. Sterling and the others soon cleared out of the room. Once they were gone, Adrian fell silent, his head bowed. I swallowed down my nausea, swept up the broken glass, and sat on the edge of his bed. “Are you okay?” After all that screaming, he couldn’t be too badly hurt. But as I leaned closer, I saw it. …Adrian was crying. Fat, silent tears were rolling down his cheeks. In the three years I’d known him, he had always been a fortress of cold indifference, his emotions only ever breaking free in the heat of the bedroom. This was a first. He clutched my hand, his voice choked with sobs. “David… even though I was blackmailed into marrying an Alpha… even though I’m not divorced yet… even though I’m… tainted… you’re the only one I remember! I only remember… when we were sixteen, you pinned me to the ground and beat me until my nose bled…” I covered my ears. I didn’t want to relive that. Before my family’s bankruptcy, Adrian and I were true arch-nemeses. We were constantly at each other’s throats. Of course, he was weaker, so he rarely managed to hurt me. Which is probably why, when he finally got his chance for revenge, he nearly fucked me to death… day after day, night after night. Snapping back to the present, I grabbed a tissue and wiped his tears. “What are you trying to say?” He sat up straight instantly. “You were top of the class in high school. You must be richer than my family now, right? You beat me into an idiot back then, so you have to take me home and take responsibility! I don’t want my dad to hit me anymore. I want to be your trophy husband…” “My family went bankrupt a long time ago,” I sighed. “And also… I’m the wife you were talking about. The Alpha who blackmailed you, the one who disgusts you so much you want to puke.” 6 Adrian’s brain short-circuited. His memory had reverted to when we were sixteen, the peak of our mutual hatred. Back then, I had just presented as an S-Class Alpha, and the mere scent of my pheromones would send him running to the bathroom to vomit for half an hour. It infuriated me so much I’d beat him up on sight. Telling him now that we were married was, admittedly, a bit abrupt. I patted his shoulder, intending to give him some space. But he flinched, then threw his head back and burst into hysterical laughter, wiping away tears. “David, are you trying to trick a fool? You, an Alpha with so much pride, would you ever agree to marry me? To be my wife? Do you think I’d fall for such a pathetic lie? You hate my guts! You just don’t want to marry this idiot and take responsibility for me!” I rubbed my temples. An S-Class Alpha willingly taking a submissive role did sound absurd. Three years ago, when my family first went bankrupt, I had no intention of asking anyone for help. I entered the entertainment industry alone. The money was fast, but the industry was a shark tank. Powerless and without connections, I was drugged three times and had my room key swapped five times within six months. My self-control was strong, and I always managed to escape. But the sixth time, the company replaced my suppressants with an aphrodisiac and locked me, in the middle of a susceptible period, in a penthouse suite. That time, I thought I was done for. But the person who walked into that suite that night was Adrian Sterling. 7 Adrian had just taken over his family’s company. Someone, as a twisted welcome gift, had delivered his old nemesis to his room, gift-wrapped and ready for the taking. But Adrian didn’t take the opportunity to humiliate me. His face was a thunderous mask. He simply wrapped me in his coat and carried my disheveled form to the hospital. Afterward, he acquired the company I worked for and dealt with the sleazy boss who had been trying to pimp me out. My agent, thinking Adrian was interested in me, sent me to his bed again during his own susceptible period. Adrian, delirious, kissed me. I was fully conscious, but I didn’t push him away. I closed my eyes and let it happen. … After that night, Adrian became my patron. He threw resources at me, introduced me to powerful people, and elevated me from an unknown nobody to a best-actor award winner. He even helped my father start a new company. And, somewhere along the way, we got married. He said his parents were pressuring him to settle down, and I was exactly what they wanted. He bought me three villas in exchange for a marriage certificate. I still vividly remember the reluctance on his face the day we signed the papers. But now, remembering he’d had his leg broken for me, I forced down my impatience. “So, what will it take for you to believe we’re married, Adrian? The certificate is overseas. You couldn’t stand the sight of it.” “Kiss me,” he said, tilting his chin up. “Kiss me with tongue, and I’ll believe you.” I paused. “Are you sure? I’m a man, your nemesis, an Alpha… It’s disgusting, remember?” “David!” He exploded, shamelessly pouting. “If you don’t want to kiss me, just say so! Stop making excuses—mmph!” His whining was getting on my nerves. I grabbed the back of his head and kissed him. He really had lost his memory. His kissing was atrocious, his tongue a clumsy mess. Amidst the sterile smell of the hospital, a faint scent of lime began to fill the air… My stomach lurched violently. I shoved him away and ran to the bathroom, dry heaving. Adrian, dragging his bad leg, crawled after me, his ears bright red as fresh tears welled in his eyes. “You are lying to me, David! You’re so disgusted you’re actually throwing up! If I’d really been with you for three years, how could I not have fucked you into submission by now…” My vision went black. I got up, beat him up again, and then took him for a CT scan. 8 Unfortunately, the CT scan showed nothing abnormal. With no medical reason for his condition, Mr. Sterling had to temporarily take over the company, leaving Adrian to recover in the hospital. I was tasked with taking care of him. I took two weeks off work, which was a welcome break for me too. The morning sickness was getting worse. And Adrian’s mind was still stuck at sixteen, making any rational discussion about the baby impossible. All he did was giggle and pester me, asking if we were really married… and if he could kiss me to disgust me. His kissing was terrible now; I wanted no part of it. But his seven-figure monthly allowance was still being deposited into my account, so I had to play along. Once again, he had me pinned to the bed, smearing saliva all over my face. I was dead inside. If it weren’t for that handsome face, I would have beaten him senseless. Half an hour later, he was still going at it, trying to “disgust” me. I finally managed to push him away, saying time was up… only to find my hand searing hot. Adrian pinned me down, his voice panicked. “David, why… why does it hurt so much today? And it’s so hot… help me…” I froze. Just when I thought I’d get a break while he was an amnesiac, his susceptible period had to arrive this soon? This was not good. I patted his head and reached for the suppressants in the drawer… but my hand knocked over a box of condoms, which clattered to the floor. The concentration of Alpha pheromones in the air skyrocketed. Adrian, already hard, went critical. A shiver ran down my spine. I retracted my hand. “No, I can’t. The baby…” The rest of my words were swallowed by his frantic mouth.

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Our family is… a bit of a mess. I’m in love with my uncle. My uncle is in love with my older brother. My older brother is in love with me. My second brother, Quinn? He’s on another level. He’s in love with… well, you’ll see. 1. The air in the cramped bathroom was a humid, clinging fog. Vincent had me pinned against the tiled wall, the spray from the showerhead soaking his black shirt, plastering it to his chest and outlining a ridiculously perfect set of muscles. “Shane,” he growled, his voice a low rumble. “You’ve got some fucking nerve, don’t you? Serving yourself up on a platter for Richard Blackwood?” Richard Blackwood is my uncle. Something heartbreaking happened yesterday. I got blackout drunk and crawled into my uncle’s bed. In response, he opened another bottle of expensive whiskey, got me even more blackout drunk, and then delivered me back to my own bed, with all my parts attached and my virtue intact. When I woke up, I couldn’t face reality. I just wanted a long, hot shower to clear my head, but Vincent cornered me before I could even turn on the water. I stared into his bloodshot eyes. His hand, elegant and veined, slammed against the wall next to my ear. “Vince…” I stammered, my voice trembling. “Could I maybe… put some clothes on first?” I was completely naked, enveloped in his scent, the steam flushing my skin pink. I felt dangerously exposed. Vincent’s gaze flickered over me. He shut his eyes tight, a muscle jumping in his jaw. “Go,” he rasped. 2. Our family situation is complicated. My parents had children late in life. My brother Quinn was supposed to be the heir, three years my senior. But he came out when he was twenty. Our parents nearly beat him to death, then shifted all their focus to grooming me, their backup son. I didn’t disappoint them. I came out at eighteen. My big confession was a love letter to my “uncle” Richard, a close friend of my father’s whom I’d fallen for at first sight. My parents, utterly defeated, adopted a new heir. Vincent. He was a student from a low-income family whom they had been sponsoring. Vincent was the perfect son: patient, disciplined, brilliant. He endured everything until our parents passed away. Only then did he finally come out. The day he did was… explosive. At the time, I was nursing a broken heart from being rejected by Richard for the umpteenth time. I’d hired a few cute models to drink with me and ease the pain. I was still in my boxers, thank God, when Vincent, who’d been in a business meeting in the next suite, burst in and caught me red-handed. He dismissed the models with a wave of his hand, leaving just me in the opulent suite. Me. My boxers. And my very eager friend downstairs, who was not cooperating with my state of despair. I saw Vincent’s Adam’s apple bob. … All I’ll say is, my brother is a very skilled man. Physically, it was incredible. Emotionally, I was a wreck. I’m sorry, but my heart still belonged to Richard. You always want what you can’t have. After Vincent came out, the happiest person in the family was Quinn. My depraved, chaos-loving second brother. He scrubbed himself clean and pranced right into Vincent’s bedroom, offering himself up like a sacrifice. Vincent beat the shit out of him. I mocked Quinn for his audacity. He, furious and humiliated, swore he’d conquer the one man I couldn’t have: our dear uncle Richard. Richard also beat the shit out of him. I howled with laughter at the sight of his black eye. He just looked at me and licked a split corner of his lip. … 3. The shower hissed off. I took my sweet time getting dressed, then called out lazily, “Okay, Vince. I’m decent.” Vincent stepped out of the bathroom, his gaze immediately snagging on my collar. “Button your shirt.” “Right.” So demanding. My mind was elsewhere, and my head was still pounding from the hangover. My fingers felt clumsy and disobedient; I fumbled with the top two buttons for what felt like an eternity. A hand reached out. Vincent took over, his knuckles brushing my chin. I tilted my head back, my eyes tracing the line of his jaw, the damp fabric of his shirt clinging to his chest. I poked him lightly. “Vince, your shirt is still wet.” His eyes darkened. “I know.” Once the buttons were fastened, he looked directly at me. “You’re really that crazy about him?” I met his gaze. “Vince, do you have any idea what love at first sight feels like?” His expression flickered. For a moment, he was silent. I turned to leave the room. “You should change and head to the office. I’m going to find some food.” As I stepped through the doorway, I heard a whisper, so quiet I almost missed it. “Of course I do.” … 4. For expert problems, you need an expert’s advice. That night, I met my best friend, Leo, for drinks at a high-end lounge. Leo. The most notorious heartbreaker in the city’s gay scene. In an era where bottoms were a dime a dozen, he was the one man who’d left a trail of a dozen gorgeous, devoted men in his wake, all of them still obsessed with him long after he’d dumped them. A singer crooned a soulful ballad on stage as we settled into a secluded booth with a few young idols Leo had invited along. Leo stroked his chin. “So, this whole situation with your uncle…?” I swallowed nervously. “Is there any hope? Be honest.” He blinked his wide, expressive eyes at me. “Shane, honey. You literally threw yourself into his bed, and he didn’t touch you.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “Okay, okay, you can stop now.” Leo patted my head. “Why hang yourself up on one guy? You could have anyone you want.” He leaned in conspiratorially. “We bottoms can’t afford to be so wholesome.” One of the idols next to me smoothly offered me a drink. He was cute. I took a sip from the glass while he held it, then sighed. “But Richard is the one I want.” Leo shook his head. “You’re a lost cause. Honestly, I think your brother Vincent is a much better catch. And you’re not even related by blood.” “He’s… yeah, he’s great.” Great in certain… departments. A flush of heat crept up my neck as I remembered that night. Leo’s eyes danced with mischief. “Well, if you’re not interested, mind if I make a move?” “He’s not your type,” I blurted out. Leo raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “Oh? And what is his type?” I paused. “He, uh… he likes the pure, innocent type. Like me.” Leo burst out laughing. “You? Pure and innocent?” He flicked the exposed waistband of my designer briefs. “Does ‘pure and innocent’ involve showing off your underwear?” I scooted away, annoyed. “You think I want to wear these? All my normal underwear has been mysteriously disappearing lately.” I could guess with my eyes closed who the culprit was. Leo draped himself over the man next to him, smirking. “Sure, sweetie. Keep telling yourself that.” I ignored him and reached for a drink on the table. As I turned, I realized I was practically in the idol’s lap. I froze, about to pull back, but he wrapped an arm around my waist and placed a fresh glass in my outstretched hand. The music on stage swelled, growing louder and more intense. The lights dimmed, casting the room in an intimate, hazy glow. “Another round, pretty boy?” he murmured. … I drank. A few rounds later, I was pleasantly buzzed when my phone vibrated. Vincent: Where are you? Me: Home. [GoodBoy.jpg] Just then, the singer from the stage joined our table, and Leo roped everyone into a drinking game. I tossed my phone aside and forgot about it. The games went on. The drinks kept coming. I rubbed my temples and finally glanced at my phone. Two hours ago. Vincent: I’ll give you one more chance. Where are you? One hour ago. Vincent: Be home within the hour. Thirty minutes ago. [Missed Call] [Missed Call] Now. [Vincent is requesting a video call.] I was about to answer when a low voice purred in my ear. “Still thirsty, pretty boy?” I glanced over. Leo and the singer were locked in a passionate kiss. A sudden, irrational anger flared inside me. Why was I the one with the damn curfew? I furiously accepted the call. “Vincent, can you just chill for one second? I’m busy having fun. Stop calling!” I hung up, raised my glass to the guy beside me, and clinked it against his. “Cheers.” I don’t know how much later it was when Leo, now arm-in-arm with the singer, came over. “Shane, sweetie, I’m heading out.” I nodded. The man beside me leaned in. “So, pretty boy, should we also…?” I waved a dismissive hand. “I’m going home.” Wait. Did I just… do something incredibly stupid? I fumbled for my phone. There was a new message from Vincent. It was a photo, taken from his perspective. He was sitting on the sofa, his long legs crossed, dressed in black suit trousers. In his hand, he held a long, thin discipline ruler. Below it was a voice note. “Good. Take your time. I’ll be waiting for you at home… Young. Master.” The alcohol vanished from my system. A cold dread washed over me. I was so, so screwed. In a panic, I called Richard. “Uncle! Code red! Can I come hide out at your place?” 5. A soft chuckle came from the other end of the line. “Shane, my boy. That’s a new one.” “No, I’m serious!” I kept him on the line while I forwarded him my entire chat history with Vincent. There was a sharp intake of breath on his end. “Shane,” he said, his voice suddenly tight. “Since you’ve asked so sincerely for my help, it would be wrong of me not to intervene. Send me your location. I’ll come pick you up and take you home.” Wait, what? I was speechless for a second. “No, Uncle, I meant I need a place to hide.” “Nonsense. Hiding at my place won’t solve anything. I’ll go have a word with your brother. Maybe I can talk some sense into him. Boys will be boys, after all.” I thought about it. “…Okay, fine.” I sent him my location. Less than ten minutes later, a flamboyant Rolls-Royce pulled up to the curb. The moment I got in and saw Richard in the driver’s seat, my heart started doing backflips. He was wearing a pale pink floral shirt, unbuttoned to the third button, offering a tantalizing glimpse of a firm chest. A pair of single-rimmed gold glasses rested on his perfect nose, framing his impossibly charming eyes. I swallowed hard. “Un… Uncle…” He glanced over at me. “Wipe your chin, kid.” …Right. As much as I wanted to drool, my fear of Vincent currently outweighed my lust. I sat quietly the entire ride home. Standing at our front door, I hesitated. “Uncle, maybe I should just go crash at a hotel. I can come back when Vince has cooled off.” Richard clapped me on the shoulder. “Don’t be afraid. If he tries to hit you, I’ll take the blow for you.” I was touched. I nodded, took a deep breath, and opened the door as if walking to my own execution. “You’re back.” Vincent’s voice was flat. He was sitting on the sofa, just like in the photo. He turned his head, and his expression instantly darkened when he saw Richard behind me. “What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice laced with ice. Richard strolled in, his tone light and breezy. “Poor Shane here was begging for my help. As his uncle, how could I refuse?” Vincent stood up and strode to the door, blocking Richard’s path. “We’re not entertaining guests tonight.” Richard stopped, his eyes flicking to the ruler in Vincent’s hand. “Isn’t this a bit much? The kid just wanted to have some fun. It’s normal for his age.” “This is a family matter. It has nothing to do with you.” Richard didn’t seem fazed by the rebuff. “What, am I an outsider now?” he sighed dramatically. “That hurts, Vince. I practically watched you boys grow up…” “Shane,” Vincent interrupted, his voice dangerously low. “Show our guest out.” A shiver went down my spine. He’d used my full name. I looked from Richard’s easygoing smirk to Vincent’s thunderous expression. The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife. Vincent’s knuckles were white around the ruler. This time, he was really pissed. After a rapid mental calculation, I spoke. “Uh, Uncle? Maybe you should head out for now…” Richard glanced between us and threw his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “Fine, fine. The old man dies, and this is how you all treat me. I’m going to go burn some incense for him and ask him to haunt you all into showing some respect.” Muttering to himself, he walked out. At the door, he turned and gave Vincent a wink. “Vince, be gentle. Don’t be like your old man.” Vincent had had enough. He slammed the door shut with a resounding BOOM. The silence that followed was deafening. His eyes landed on my face, and I quickly looked away, unable to meet his gaze. He lifted a hand, and I flinched, shutting my eyes tight. The expected pain never came. Instead, a warm touch ghosted across my cheek. He was gently wiping away a lipstick smear left over from the drinking game. “Go drink the sobriety soup.” “Oh. Okay.” My adrenaline rush had sobered me up, but I obediently sat on the couch and drank the soup from the bowl on the coffee table. It was still warm. Vincent stood over me, watching patiently until I’d finished the last drop. “Why did you close your eyes? Did you think I was going to hit you?” I glanced at him, then at the ruler still clutched in his hand. Did this not look like the posture of a man about to inflict bodily harm? But then again, he never had. Not once. I shook my head. “No. But you seem really angry.” He let out a short, humorless laugh. “You’ve got that right.” I lowered my head, feeling guilty. Suddenly, I felt something cool press against my chin. Vincent was using the ruler to tilt my head up, forcing me to look at him. “First: you lied. Second: you broke curfew. And third,” his voice dropped, “you brought someone home you shouldn’t have.” “You tell me. What’s the punishment?” My face was burning. The position was humiliating, and he was right on every count. I had crossed a line tonight. I stubbornly averted my gaze. “Why don’t you go discipline Quinn? He’s still not home!” “My only requirement for Quinn is that he remains alive.” I was speechless. “Then what about me? Why do you care so much about what I do?” Vincent let out a cold huff and lowered the ruler. He leaned forward, bracing his hands on either side of me, trapping me in his space, his scent. His deep voice vibrated next to my ear, sending a jolt of electricity through me. “Do you really not know why?” I knew. I’d known since that night. Vincent was in love with me. The memory of that wild night sent another wave of heat through me. His familiar scent was so close, my eyes were drawn to the slightly loosened knot of his tie, and my breathing hitched. I think I was still drunk. I shook my head, trying to clear the images from my mind. I raised my hands, pushing weakly against his chest. “Okay, okay, I get it! I won’t be out so late again.” He straightened up, letting me go. “You’re coming to the office with me tomorrow.” I was confused. “What for? I don’t know anything about business.” “The renovations are finished. I had a studio built for you next to my office. You like to paint, don’t you? It’s time you did something productive instead of hanging around with… those people.” I was stunned into silence for a moment. Then I nodded. “Oh… okay.”

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I was the princess of Manhattan’s elite. Less than a year after marrying the city’s brilliant up-and-comer, his empire crumbled. After the divorce, I saw the ending to my story—and went running back to him, begging to remarry. He just frowned, his lips a thin, cold line. “I’m sorry, Ms. Sterling.” “The Penn name is in the gutter. We’re not fit for a Sterling anymore.” Standing beside him was his childhood friend, her smile a blinding glare. I cradled my stomach and forced a weak smile. “Fine. Then I guess I’ll just find a new dad for the baby?” His eyes widened, a storm crashing through their depths. “What. Did. You. Say?” 1. They had me on the operating table. The icy chill of the steel seeped through the thin gown, electrifying every nerve. Suddenly— Flashes of a life I’d never lived seared through my mind. In those visions, I followed my parents’ plan and remarried, taking a husband they’d hand-picked. Less than six months later, my parents died in a freak car accident, and my new husband shipped me off to a foreign country and left me there. Penniless and alone, I wandered the streets, so hungry I was forced to scavenge through trash cans for scraps. The stench of rot and sour decay, the slimy, grimy feel of filth—it was a world of suffocation and absolute despair. In the end, a homeless man snatched the spoiled food from my hands and shoved me to the ground. Snow fell from a grey sky, blanketing my gaunt, motionless body until I was completely buried. The image froze, burned into my memory. Just then, the surgical light above me flared to life. “Hello there. Just relax your legs for me,” a nurse’s voice said, sounding distant and warped. I shot upright with a gasp, a sob caught in my throat. “Wait—I’m sorry, I can’t do this.” When I stumbled out of the room, my mother rushed to my side. “Aurora? Is it over already?” “No…” I shook my head, my body still trembling from the vision. Tears streamed down my face. “Mom, I can’t go through with this.” If I lost this baby, I would die a horrible death. I had to find Jason Penn. I had to get him back. 2. I raced to the rundown walk-up he had moved into. The rust-eaten door of the building reflected my frantic, pale face. For a terrifying moment, it morphed into the same face from my vision—shriveled and purple from the cold. I shuddered, a wave of pure dread washing over me. Just then, I heard the sound of laughter from down the street. I quickly ducked into the shadows beneath the stairwell, peering out just in time to see Jason walking up with another woman. He was carrying a bag of groceries, his attention fixed on her as she spoke. “I’ll keep an eye on the project for you. Don’t think you’re getting away with just buying me dinner.” “How are your parents adjusting to the new place?” “If you need anything, I can always come over. I picked up some serious cooking skills abroad these last few years. You’ll have to let me show them off.” … The woman’s voice was bright and cheerful, her words easy and confident. And Jason—the same Jason who was always so cool and distant—was actually responding to her. I bit my lip, a hot knot of anger tightening in my chest. The ink on our divorce papers was barely dry, and he’d already moved on. But if I didn’t remarry him… I would lose everything. I would die on the streets. The horrific images flashed again, like pop-up ads from hell. A line of rainbow text wiggled across my vision like a caterpillar: ~Ooooh, this is what happens when you get divorced~ My whole body trembled. Fear was a giant black shroud, smothering me, stealing the air from my lungs. Oh God, this is terrifying! The instinct for survival overrode everything else. Gritting my teeth, I lunged out from my hiding place, about to call his name. “Jul—” Click. The door slammed shut. I stared at it, deflated. Then, suddenly, it opened again. A pair of long, powerful legs stepped out. I froze, stunned. 3. Jason stood in the dim hallway, his cool gaze landing on me, tinged with the annoyance of being interrupted. “What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice ice. He’d always been reserved, keeping a certain distance from the world. But in the year we were married, whenever we were alone, he had been gentle with me. This cutting, cold tone was a first. A knot of anxiety tightened in my stomach. “I… I came to see you,” I stammered. “I want… to get… back…” “What? I can’t hear you.” “I said I want to remarry you! I want us to get back together!” I squeezed my eyes shut and yelled, the words tumbling out in a single, desperate rush. In the faint light of the hallway, a flicker of shock crossed his face, so fast I might have imagined it. He didn’t speak. The air grew thick and heavy, the only sounds the stifling silence of the stairwell and the frantic drumming of my own heart. He glanced at the apartment door, which was still slightly ajar, and reached back to pull it fully closed. Then he started down the stairs, one step at a time. His movements were deliberate, unhurried, yet they carried a crushing weight, like the low pressure before a violent storm. I held my breath, my nails digging into my palms. The horrifying visions of my death still pulsed at the edge of my mind. He stopped an arm’s length away from me. His eyes locked onto mine, their depths as cold and dark as a frozen lake. “I’m sorry, Ms. Sterling,” he said, his tone flat, each word precise. He paused, his voice devoid of all emotion, a simple, brutal statement of fact. “The Penn name is in the gutter. We’re not fit for a Sterling anymore.” 4. Not fit… Those words were like shards of ice, piercing straight through my heart. A wave of shame washed over me, and my face burned with heat. After his company had filed for bankruptcy, right when he needed me the most, I had listened to my parents and asked for a divorce. And now, not even a week after it was finalized, here I was, shamelessly begging him to take me back. It was absurd. It was offensive. It probably looked like I was toying with him. But… “I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant. I’m here because…” I tried to explain, my thoughts a jumbled mess. The words died on my lips. What could I possibly say? That I’d seen the future? That if I left him, I would die a miserable death? If he didn’t already think I was playing games with him, he’d surely think I was insane. Tears welled in my eyes, and with a single blink, they spilled over, tracking hot paths down my cheeks. “Why are you crying?” He frowned, a flicker of impatience in his voice. “Isn’t a divorce exactly what you wanted?” His Adam’s apple bobbed, as if he wanted to say more, but he just pressed his lips into a tight line. “We’re over, Aurora.” “Go home. The great princess of Manhattan doesn’t belong in a place like this.” He gave a slight, dismissive nod, a clear gesture of farewell. The moment he turned to leave, I lunged forward, wrapping my arms around his waist. “Don’t go!” I cried, my voice trembling. “I—I really need you!” “Ever since we signed the papers, I haven’t stopped thinking about you, about us. I… I realized I can’t live without you. Can we please get back together? I can’t do this without you!” Through the thin fabric of his shirt, I felt his muscles tense, coiled with a powerful, restrained energy. He looked down, his gaze falling on my hands clasped around him. His eyes were searching, probing, a dangerous current swirling beneath the icy surface. After a moment, he raised his hands and slowly, deliberately, began to pry my fingers away. My heart leaped into my throat. He turned his head, his dark eyes bottomless. “And why should I?” he asked, his lips barely moving. His voice was like a blade forged in ice, striking the deepest part of my soul. He paused, each word a clear, cold-blooded question. “What is marriage to you, Aurora?” “A tool you can pick up and discard whenever you please?” His words were slow, sharp as daggers. “Or do you think that just because Jason Penn has lost everything, he’s now a pawn for the great Aurora Sterling to play with as she sees fit?” “…” The world went silent. I opened my mouth several times, but no sound came out. He was right… Why should he? Jason watched my speechless form, and the last flicker of emotion in his eyes died out, replaced by a deep, hollow stillness and… weariness. “Can’t answer that?” A mocking smile touched his lips. “In that case, getting back together—” “Is. Not. Happening.” The three words were an execution, leaving no room for appeal. 5. The air was frozen solid. The weariness in his eyes had shattered any words I might have had. Just then, a faint noise came from upstairs. The closed apartment door creaked open a few inches. The voices from inside were muffled by the distance, but they still carried clearly to my ears. “…You’re cooking tonight. What on earth is that boy doing out in the hallway? I’ll go get him.” “It’s okay, Mrs. Penn. I’ll go.” A woman’s clear, warm voice drew nearer. I stiffened. The blood seemed to drain from my body, leaving my fingertips icy cold. For some reason, my heart began to ache with a sharp, insistent rhythm. My eyes were glued to the sliver of light spilling from the doorway. In my peripheral vision, Jason hadn’t moved. He was still turned slightly towards me, his gaze cold and probing, pinning me in place. It felt like he was trying to see through me, to uncover some hidden truth. But what was he looking for? To see how pathetic I was after being rejected? Or… something else? I nervously wet my dry lips, my gaze drifting uncontrollably back to the door upstairs. It opened a little wider. A slender, pale hand rested on the frame. The woman’s voice came again, laced with a familiar intimacy. “Jason? Are you out there?” Jason finally broke his stare. He turned to face the stairs, his jaw tight, his tone final. “Go home, Aurora. And don’t come back.” Without another word, he started up the stairs. He’d just reached the first step when I couldn’t stop a small, pathetic sniffle from escaping. His stride faltered. His tall frame went rigid for a second before he turned back, his expression a mixture of resignation and annoyance. I looked up at him, my eyes wide and pleading. “I… I don’t know how to get home,” I whispered. His brow furrowed. “Where’s your driver?” I shook my head, my voice shrinking. “I took the bus…” Jason turned completely around. He stared at me, his Adam’s apple moving slightly. “…Why?” he asked. His voice was raw, still holding its usual chill, but there seemed to be something else layered beneath it. I looked down, wringing my hands, feeling a strange pang of guilt, as if I’d been caught doing something wrong. “I wanted to try,” I answered meekly. “Try what?” “To see… if I could handle it. A life without drivers and town cars, just buses and subways. After we… get back together.” I confessed, glancing up at him shyly. “You know… to practice!” The air was still for a moment. Jason just stared at me, his eyes as deep and unreadable as a well. Something flickered across their surface, like a stone dropped into dark water, sending out the faintest of ripples before the ice closed over it again. I couldn’t decipher his expression. I only knew that his jaw was clenched so tightly it looked like a drawn bowstring. Tight, but still so handsome. The thought surprised even me. Upstairs, the light from the doorway shifted. The woman’s voice called out again, a note of confusion in it. “Jason? Is everything okay?” Her voice was like a switch. The unreadable emotion in Jason’s eyes froze over, leaving only a chilling coldness. He pulled his lips into a smirk, the curve laced with an indescribable mockery. “You probably can’t even read a bus map, Aurora. What are you talking about, ‘practicing’?” “Stop being naive. You and I don’t walk the same path anymore.” “Go home. Live the life you’re supposed to live.” With that, he refused to look at me again. He turned and strode up the stairs, his back rigid and resolute, never once looking back. 6. I stood frozen in place. The door upstairs was now closed. The walls of the old walk-up were thin. I could faintly hear the murmur of conversation from inside. It was July. The air should have been hot and heavy. So why did I feel so cold? My chest felt tight, my nose stung. He seemed… angrier than before. But I was just telling the truth… As the suffocating feeling closed in, the pop-up visions flashed through my mind again. But this time, things were different. I hadn’t remarried. Instead, I was heavily pregnant, and the man who was supposed to be my second husband shoved me down a flight of stairs. A pool of crimson spread beneath me as my eyes stared blankly at the ceiling. I saw my parents running towards me, their faces contorted in horror… That vision was even more terrifying than freezing to death on the street. I instinctively clutched my stomach. Go back to the life I’m supposed to live? No, no, no! What life was that? Without Jason, there was no life for me, just a variety of gruesome deaths. He wouldn’t remarry me because he didn’t think I was sincere. I had to prove it to him. If he rejected me once, I’d come back twice. If he rejected me twice, I’d come back four times! I would wear him down. 7. And so, I went back. Again and again. Soon, everyone—upstairs, downstairs, and half the neighborhood—knew that Jason Penn’s ex-wife was begging him to take her back. But every time Jason saw me, his face was a cold mask of rejection. Only occasionally, when I was clumsily trying to help, his gaze would linger on me for a moment, his brow deeply furrowed. He looked at me with a complex, searching expression, as if I were the one who had ruined his family, not the business partner who was now on the run. His parents were as kind as ever, but even they tried to dissuade me. “Aurora, you’ve lived in luxury your whole life. Your parents couldn’t bear to see you suffer, and neither can we.” “Look at your hands. Just from peeling garlic, you’ve broken a nail.” “Please, listen to us. Don’t come back tomorrow.” I just smiled, shaking my head. “But I don’t feel like I’m suffering at all! Everyone has to have a first time for things, right?” “I’ll get better, I promise!” I said that, but the truth was, the person who was actually a natural in the kitchen was Molly. All I could do was stand outside and watch. I couldn’t help it; lately, the slightest smell made my stomach churn. Watching Mrs. Penn and Molly interact like mother and daughter filled me with a thick, nameless envy and a sour ache in my heart. When no one was looking, I slipped out of the apartment. As I closed the door behind me, I looked up and saw Jason coming home. His eyes were cold, and his voice was even colder. “What’s wrong?” I shook my head, feeling utterly defeated. I couldn’t possibly tell him I felt like a complete failure, could I? He took the last two steps, stopping just inches from me. “If you can’t handle it, just go home,” he said, his deep voice tinged with what sounded like a sigh. I stared at him, stunned. I lifted my chin, defiant. “I can handle it! This isn’t suffering! I just…” “I just feel… useless. Like I can’t help with anything…” My voice trailed off, laced with a frustration I couldn’t hide. I hated that, compared to Molly, I was so completely incompetent. Molly’s family and the Penns used to be neighbors. She and Jason had known each other since they were kids. Her family moved overseas after high school, so she must have come back as soon as she heard about his company failing. That kind of loyalty, showing up when things were at their worst, made me—the ex-wife who filed for divorce the second he went bankrupt—look so much worse. “Anyway!” I paused, my voice firm. “I’m not leaving! Not until you agree to remarry me!” I quickly turned my head away. Tears pricked my eyes, but I bit my lip, refusing to let them fall. His gaze swept over my face, and he remained silent. After a long moment, he finally spoke. “I know.” Know? What did he know? The reason I couldn’t go into the kitchen had nothing to do with my abilities. It was because I was carrying a tiny life inside me! He didn’t know anything at all! 8. My morning sickness was getting worse. My mother couldn’t stand to watch it anymore and suggested I just use the pregnancy to force Jason into remarrying me. I refused. What if he was cruel enough to reject the baby too? I couldn’t risk it.

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My father, buried under a mountain of debt, drugged me and delivered me to a powerhouse’s hotel room. Just an hour ago, I was on my knees in front of that same man, begging him. Begging him to be merciful, to spare my father and me. The tycoon, his leather shoes gleaming, had chuckled down at me. “And what, exactly, do you have that I could possibly want?” Now, he was walking toward my bed. I was burning up, my consciousness fading, but I fought against him with what little strength I had left. He ignored it. And began to push a string of prayer beads inside me, one by one. “Baby,” he whispered, his voice a low caress, “you’re finally mine.” 1 Hot. So incredibly hot. My whole body was on fire… I didn’t know what was happening to me, only that a searing heat was spreading through my veins, a fever that wouldn’t break. Just an hour ago, I had been kneeling before Sebastian Croft. I was pleading with the city’s most formidable tycoon, begging him to extend the deadline on the thirty-million-dollar debt my father and I owed him. Sebastian was dressed in a sharp black suit, his dark, heavy-lidded eyes half-closed as he held a cigarette between his fingers, lost in thought. I’d never dealt with him before, had no idea how to read the depths of his mind, so I just kept my eyes lowered, playing the part of the obedient supplicant. If he would just show a sliver of mercy, this whole humiliating ordeal would be worth it… He crossed one long leg over the other, the polished leather of his shoe so close it nearly grazed my cheek. His strong, slender fingers hooked around my tie, yanking me forward until my trembling face was inches from his. He exhaled a perfect ring of smoke right at me. “And how, exactly, do you plan to beg me, hmm?” The smoke stung my eyes, bringing tears. I could only look at him, my vision blurring. “…Anything you want, Mr. Croft. I know you don’t need anything, but I can give you everything my family has left as collateral.” Sebastian raised an eyebrow. Through the hazy smoke, I thought I saw the ghost of a smile touch his lips. He seemed to be in a good mood. He leaned in, his lips brushing my ear, his tone light, as if sharing a joke. “And what, exactly, do you have that I could possibly want?” That one sentence sent me plummeting from hopeful anticipation straight into the depths of hell. The moment I was out of that private room, I turned and kicked the wall in a blind rage. “Croft, you son of a bitch! Fucking pretentious asshole! You promised you’d help if I came to you in person, you fucking liar! Fine! I hope you have a son born without an asshole and that your ancestors curse you from the grave!” The cursing didn’t help. The memory of what he’d done to me, the casual humiliation, made my blood boil. I spat on the ground, my teeth clenched. “That fucking old man. He’s probably got erectile dysfunction, that’s why he’s such a bitter bastard. Can’t even keep his hands off other men. Back in the day, they would’ve drowned pigs like him! The world is a sick, twisted place!” Around the corner, the hallway was deathly silent. Sebastian’s assistant didn’t dare look up, the temperature around him having dropped to freezing. Under the dim corridor lights, the man stood perfectly still, the line of his jaw sharp and unforgiving. His voice, when he spoke, was a low, magnetic rumble, several shades darker than before. “Did I just tell my team to grant him an extension on the debt?” The assistant nodded meekly. “Yes, sir.” Sebastian tapped the ash from his cigarette, his face a blank mask. “I’ve changed my mind,” he said, his voice deceptively calm. “Tell his father that if he wants that extension, he can deliver his precious son to my bed.” “I’m going to personally teach him the meaning of a sick, twisted world.” 2 It was too hot. I kicked off the blankets, desperate for relief, and tugged at the already disheveled remains of my shirt. A deep, feverish blush was creeping up my neck and across my cheeks. I fumbled with the buckle of my belt, trying to free the aching pressure building in my pants, but my fingers wouldn’t cooperate. What the hell… this can’t be happening… Shame burned through me, and I bit my lip to keep from crying out. That glass of water my father gave me before he left… it had to be it. But it was too late now. The door to the room swung open. A tall, imposing figure walked slowly to my bedside, looking down at me with an air of absolute authority. The moment I saw Sebastian Croft, the last of my fight drained away. My eyes, wet with unshed tears, glared at him with pure fire. He leaned down, ignoring my feverish struggles, and his long, powerful fingers spread me open. “Such a good boy,” he purred. “Knowing to get rid of the obstacles yourself.” If looks could kill, this perverted old bastard would be in a thousand pieces. But under the drug’s influence, my broken sobs were swallowed by his invading tongue. My resistance melted into breathless moans. “What was that, my dear?” My lips trembled as I pressed them to his ear. “Sebastian, I’ll fucking kill you, you sick freak… ngh…” I fell silent. Because the string of prayer beads he always wore wrapped around his wrist was now entering my body, one by one. I was drenched in sweat, speechless. My mind screamed, Sick freak, filthy old lech… I cursed him until my nose was red and I couldn’t breathe, and then, suddenly, the fight went out of me. I grabbed his hand as he reached for a tissue to wipe me clean, and just stared at him with wide, pleading eyes. “You old bastard,” I whimpered, “don’t just watch. Help me catch my breath!” He may have misunderstood. He slowly leaned down and kissed my lips. “See? So much more obedient when you don’t have the energy to curse me.” His words nearly made me pass out from pure rage. I’m done! I can’t live like this! But I didn’t die. Afterwards, I huddled under the covers like a coward in its shell, refusing to come out no matter what Sebastian said. This was a matter of principle. A straight man’s principles. Just because Sebastian Croft was twisted didn’t mean I had to be! I muffled my voice with the blanket. “Sebastian, do you realize this is kidnapping? I could have you arrested for this!” He was unfazed. “Your father was the one who drugged you.” “Impossible…” I shot up in bed. It had to be this old bastard. He used his power to force my father! Sebastian fastened his cufflinks, his gaze cool. “Consider it a down payment.” “…” This is disgusting. What a vile, black-hearted scheme! Seeing the smug, satisfied look on his face only fueled my anger. But there was nothing I could do. What was done, was done. I couldn’t exactly return the favor—the size difference alone made that a losing proposition for me. “Fine,” I said, grabbing my pants from the floor. “Then our debt is settled. Wiped clean!” I hadn’t taken a single step before I heard his voice, cold and menacing, from behind me. “Who said anything about wiping it clean…?” “The deal I made with your father was one million per session.” 3 Don’t get angry. Don’t get angry. It’s not worth dying over. If that bastard Sebastian was still breathing, I couldn’t let myself die of a rage-induced aneurysm. He’d probably laugh at me in the afterlife. I slowly crawled back under the covers and tried to present myself. That didn’t feel right, so I shifted positions. A million a pop, huh? Forty-something more times and I’d be free. Just then, a cold draft hit me, and my ass cheeks clenched involuntarily. But Sebastian didn’t move. I let out a bitter laugh. “Croft, are you going to do this or not?” He had his eyes closed. What the hell? Now he was playing the gentleman? Then who was that sex-crazed demon from last night? I peeked out from under the blanket, my eyes drawn to the large, damp patch on his pajama pants. Just as I did, a large hand pushed my head back down and tucked the covers in around me. “Once every three days. Overexertion is bad for the body.” I almost coughed up blood. Did he think I was begging him to grace my humble abode? Was he a fucking monk all of a sudden? So many rules. At this rate, when would I ever pay off the debt? It’s not like you can force a horse to drink! Frustrated, I looked him up online. And what I found was that Sebastian Croft had, in fact, spent two years in seclusion at a monastery. Even after returning to secular life, he maintained a strict habit of drinking herbal medicine. No wonder the old house had caught fire. He was making up for lost time. I looked at his face—so deceptively serene, so holier-than-thou—and nodded to myself. Of course. Pretty monks are always… Mmph! My eyes shot open as his lips crashed down on mine. I heard him swallow, then his voice was a low whisper in my ear. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re thinking. You’re not going anywhere until this debt is paid. You’re mine.” “My payment. My wife.” 4 Fine. Won’t let me leave, huh? I’ve got plenty of ways to make you. I turned Sebastian’s villa into my personal playground, banging on pots and pans, performing bizarre ritual dances, and generally causing as much chaos as humanly possible. I was hoping he’d get sick of me and kick me out. Unfortunately, the villa was miles from the city, and the rooms were soundproof. Sebastian was completely undisturbed. He even suggested I stop making a scene and use the time to get a Ph.D., offering to buy me all the research materials I needed. Getting a Ph.D. while getting screwed? Was he even human?! I’d already suffered through a bachelor’s and master’s in medicine; I wasn’t about to go back for more. So, when he had a guest over, I upped the ante. I threw myself on the floor and put on a one-man melodrama of a grieving widow, wailing and sobbing for all I was worth. The guest stared, his jaw on the floor. It took him a long moment to speak. “Your… wife is certainly multi-talented.” Beside him, Sebastian just smirked. “Isn’t he? I think so too.” “Next time, I’ll set up a stage for him,” I seethed. “You can invite all your friends over for the show. Wouldn’t want them to miss out on all this entertainment.” I was fuming. As soon as the guest left, I stormed into Sebastian’s room to confront him, only to find him drinking his herbal tonic. The bitter, pungent smell filled the room. It was clearly not your average herbal tea. I leaned in and sniffed. “How can you drink this stuff? It’s so bitter. Don’t you ever eat anything sweet?” He patted his lap, and I grudgingly sat down. Before I could react, he took a large gulp of the medicine. The next second, his hand was on the back of my head, and his warm, medicine-laced lips were on mine. “Mmph… Croft, you… glug…” I struggled. He pulled away, sighing contentedly. “It’s not bitter anymore.” I was furious. Of course it wasn’t! The medicine was in my stomach! What did he have to complain about? I spat a few times to get rid of the taste. How could he drink that stuff every single day without so much as a grimace? I had to give him credit. I gave him a thumbs-up. “Seriously, man, to be able to stomach that… you’re the real deal.” Sebastian looked down at my thumb. “It is bitter.” He smirked and gestured for me to lean closer. I did. His gaze darkened as he looked at my lips, and he gently wiped away a stray drop with his finger. “From now on, you can drink my medicine for me… You like it? I can have them bring you another bowl.” Another bowl? Was he insane? “Sebastian, I’ll kill your entire fucking family!” I roared. Sometimes, I swear he had selective hearing. I could be cursing his ancestors, and he’d act like he hadn’t heard a thing. He just raised a finger, his tone authoritative yet gentle. “The goji berries, angelica root, and red dates are all very nourishing. If you find it too bitter, I’ll have someone bring you some candied fruit.” Nourishing, huh? My eyes lit up with curiosity. Sebastian stroked my hair like I was a cat, then left to give some instructions. I sat in his chair as a servant brought in another bowl of the tonic and a plate of candied fruit. I took a small sip, then a piece of fruit. It wasn’t so bad. I just wondered what it was for. Was it good for the kidneys? Maybe it would make me strong enough to flip him over in a fight. “What’s this for?” I asked casually. The servant glanced at me. “It’s to… to treat one’s sexual orientation.” “Pfft!” I nearly sprayed a mouthful of tonic across the room. He was making me drink medicine for what? I wasn’t the one who was bent! The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. I finished off the rest of the candied fruit in a huff. That bastard. I hoped he died childless and alone. 5 Sebastian had his routines. Every Friday, he went to the temple to make a donation. And he insisted on dragging me along. I was dead tired in the car. He’d kept me up all night again. “Why are we going to a temple?” “To pray.” He paused, his eyes drifting down to my crotch. A slow smile spread across his face. “To pray for an heir for the Croft family.” I choked on my tea. “Pfft—are you insane? Who’s going to give birth?” He gave me a look that said, It’s not going to be me. Me? I’m a guy. Do I even have the right equipment for that? What was wrong with him? Had all that meditating turned his brain to mush? I looked up and realized he was just messing with me, which only made me angrier. I’m not a kid. When we got to the temple, a novice monk handed me a string of prayer beads. “So, what kind of services do you offer here?” I asked. The monk bowed his head. “We hold ceremonies, chant scriptures…” I raised an eyebrow. “Do you do funeral rites?” The monk paused. “…My condolences, young patron. For whom shall we pray? When… when did they pass?” I looked up and saw Sebastian a hundred yards away, talking with a long-haired man, his expression cold and all-business. I grinned. “My husband. He’s not dead yet. Can I place a pre-order?” The young monk had probably never heard of pre-ordering a funeral. I pointed toward Sebastian. “See that man over there? You can get the deposit from him directly.” My voice wasn’t quiet. They heard me. The long-haired man chuckled. “Sebastian. It seems you’ve brought home a real handful.” Sebastian glanced in our direction, then quickly looked away. “You could say that.” His complete lack of reaction surprised the other man. “You can tolerate that? You’re a saint.” He turned to look at Sebastian, and then his eyes widened in shock. “Holy shit. He’s cursing you like that, and you can still get a reaction? You’re a total masochist!” Finally, the man’s lips twitched. “You know what? You two really are a match made in heaven.”

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The first crack in our decade-long relationship appeared one night when I found George drunk, leaning on another woman. We had our worst fight—my hysterical questions met his venomous accusations. “Just drunk, nothing happened,” he slurred, blocking her number with red-rimmed eyes. I believed him. Ten years was too long to throw away, especially with our wedding approaching. Six months later, I overheard his friend ask: “You’re really marrying her? What about my sister?” That night, I unlocked his phone. My chat was muted; pinned at the top was a kitten avatar—a young girl he replied to eagerly, while my messages vanished into silence. I smiled bitterly. If his care belonged to someone else, then I didn’t want this fiancé anymore. 1 It was three in the morning. The bedroom door opened, and George sat down on the edge of the bed. He just sat there, head bowed, lost in thought. After a long silence, he placed a small box on my nightstand. When I heard the shower start, I opened my eyes and looked at his phone on the pillow beside me. The screen lit up with a new message notification. As if possessed, I reached over and swiped it open. As I scrolled through his chat history, my blood ran cold. Just as I’d suspected, my messages were muted. He had nothing left to say to me, but for this other girl, he had endless words. In just six months, he’d gone from cold indifference to patient replies, which had blossomed into a daily exchange of life’s tiny moments. 【Are you asleep? Thanks for driving me home.】 【Let me buy you dinner to say thank you! [cute.jpg]】 【Goodnight, sweet dreams ~】 The mattress dipped beside me. The phone’s light cast flickering shadows across the room. He was silent for a moment before he turned and wrapped his arm around me. “You’re awake?” “I’m sorry,” he murmured into my hair. “Something came up today. I couldn’t make it to the wedding dress fitting.” “My partner had an emergency, so he asked me to drive his sister to the next city for a dance troupe audition. He said it was a huge deal for her future… I really thought I’d make it back in time.” His excuses felt flimsy, a transparent attempt to cover his tracks. My hand clenched into a fist, but there was no strength in my fingers. It felt like trying to hold onto sand, watching helplessly as it slipped away. The bitterness was a physical ache in my chest. My eyes stung, and a tear slid down my cheek, landing on the back of his hand. He flinched as if burned. He sighed, pulling me closer and burying his face in my neck. His voice was a hoarse whisper. “I’ll be more careful from now on. I’m sorry.” “We’ll reschedule the dress fitting. And once this project is done, how about we go abroad for our wedding photos?” His breath was warm against my skin as he peppered my neck with soft kisses, the temperature in the room slowly rising. But my next words shattered the fragile intimacy. “George, do you even want to marry me anymore?” 2 I met George when I was eighteen. After graduating high school, I felt like I’d finally won a victory for my mother. I had outshone the child from her failed first marriage—my half-sister, the ghost who had haunted my entire childhood. It seemed the only way to earn a sliver of my mother’s attention was to be better, smarter, more successful than the daughter of the man who had hurt her. But I always seemed to disappoint her. In my junior year, a short story I wrote was adapted for the school play. Watching my classmates bring my words to life on stage planted a seed in my heart. As I went through the motions—practicing the violin I didn’t love, learning skills I didn’t care for—an idea began to sprout. I wanted to choose something for myself. Just once. I didn’t apply to the respectable, stable career paths my mother had laid out for me. For the first time in my life, I defied her. The price was being thrown out of the house. I had less than a hundred dollars to my name. She was sure this would break me, that I would come crawling back, ready to follow her script for my life. If it wasn’t for my best friend, I probably would have ended up on the streets, just as she’d predicted. To pay for tuition and rent, I slept four hours a night and worked every other waking moment. Early mornings at a breakfast diner, afternoons at a boba tea shop, late nights at an internet café. It was exhausting, but I’d never felt so free. Then, on an ordinary afternoon, he appeared. The summer air was thick with the drone of cicadas, shadows danced under the trees, and a wind chime tinkled softly. A boy, bright and intense as the summer heat, burst into my life. 3 When I woke the next morning, his side of the bed was empty. Staring out at the sunlit street, my mind replayed last night’s scene. After my question, there had been a long, heavy silence from George. Then, his lips were on mine, hot and insistent, swallowing the words caught in my throat. His eyes were dark, unreadable pools. The unspoken question died between us. I rubbed my throbbing temples. A flash of light caught my eye. Sometime during the night, he had slipped the contents of the box onto my ring finger. The diamond glittered, catching the morning sun and refracting it into a blinding star. Maybe the light was just too bright. It made my eyes water. … George seemed determined to put my mind at ease. No matter how busy he was, he came home for dinner every night. We’d curl up on the sofa and watch cheesy primetime dramas. On weekends, he took me to plays and late-night movie premieres, and we’d walk home under the stars. For a little while, it felt like we had traveled back in time. Back to a long, long time ago. My mother once told me I probably couldn’t even bake a cake properly, unlike my sister, who excelled at everything she tried. Our tenth anniversary was just a few days away. I suddenly had the urge to bake a cake for George with my own hands. That night, after he was sound asleep, I snuck into the kitchen and pulled out the ingredients I’d bought. Following a tutorial video, I carefully measured and mixed, step by step. Slowly, a cake took shape under my hands. It turned out I wasn’t completely useless after all. 4 The morning of our anniversary, as I was reminding George to take the wedding invitations with him, I glanced at his phone and saw a restaurant reservation confirmation. My heart gave a little flutter of anticipation. The sun was perfect. I hummed to myself as I pruned the dead leaves from the jasmine on the windowsill and gave it some water. I dressed with care, picked up the cake box, and headed to his office. Since the company had taken off, George had become impossibly busy. I hadn’t visited him at work in a long time. So long, in fact, that the new receptionist stopped me at the door. “Hi, I’m here to see George.” “Do you have an appointment with Mr. Hayes?” she asked, her expression odd, her tone subtly shifting. I shook my head. Her brow furrowed as she glanced at the cake box in my hand. “If you don’t have an appointment, you’ll have to leave.” I was taken aback by her baseless hostility. Frowning, I pulled out my phone to call George. No answer. She rolled her eyes and started texting someone. When she saw me trying to call again, her voice sharpened. “Please leave. You’re disrupting our work environment.” Suddenly, George’s best friend, Ryan, stepped out of the elevator behind me. The receptionist’s face lit up. “Hey, Ryan!” Ryan smiled back, then his eyes landed on me. He stopped short, a flicker of surprise on his face. “Chloe? What are you doing here?” “Am I not allowed?” I asked, forcing a smile. He seemed to realize how his question sounded and gave an awkward laugh. “Of course, you are. I just haven’t seen you here in ages. Why are you waiting out here?” His eyes darted between me and the receptionist. “Come on, let’s go in.” “Ryan!” the receptionist protested. “She doesn’t have an appointment…” Ryan’s face darkened. “This is George’s fiancée. She doesn’t need an appointment.” The receptionist’s eyes widened in shock. I gave her a quizzical look and followed Ryan inside, faintly hearing her making a frantic phone call behind us. In the hallway, I asked casually, “When did she start? Is she someone’s relative or something?” “A friend asked me to give her a job,” he said, rubbing his nose. “She’s new. Don’t mind her.” 5 As we entered the main office area, a sweet, sugary scent hung in the air. On nearly every desk sat an exquisitely decorated dessert. Two women in the corner were whispering. “This is amazing! Did Chris’s sister make these?” “Yeah, this is the second time this month, right?” “Don’t forget the cookies she brought last week.” I turned and walked into George’s office. It was empty. On his desk sat a half-eaten slice of cake and a bag of almond cookies. My fingers tightened on the ribbon of my cake box. “You’re here.” George looked surprised to see me, a strange emotion flashing in his eyes. “Why didn’t you call?” “I did. You didn’t answer,” I said flatly. He patted his pockets, finding them empty. He walked over, took my hand, and led me to the small sofa. “Sorry, I was in Chris’s office. I left my phone on my desk.” His gaze fell on the cake box. Just as he was about to speak, a bright, cheerful voice came from the doorway. “George! Time for lunch! When are we leaving?” Without waiting for an answer, a young woman with a beaming smile pushed the door open. When she saw me, she froze, the smile stuck on her face. I looked her over. Fair skin, a pure, pretty face, and an infectious, youthful energy. “And who is this?” I asked, turning to George, though I already knew the answer. He squeezed my hand, his eyes downcast. “This is Chris’s sister, Ivy,” he mumbled. I stared at him for a long moment, a cold laugh bubbling in my throat. I turned my attention to the girl, who was now looking flustered. “You must be Chloe,” she said, forcing a smile. “It’s nice to finally meet you. George talks about you all the time—” I cut her off with a sharp smile of my own. “And where are you two going?” Ivy looked at George in a panic. George stood up, pulling me with him. “Just grabbing lunch. You haven’t eaten, right? Join us.” Ivy took a half-step forward as if to protest, but then her eyes fell on our joined hands. Her shoulders slumped, and she forced another smile, her disappointment poorly hidden. 6 In the parking garage, George opened the passenger door for me. As he did, his eyes instinctively flickered toward Ivy. My feet felt rooted to the spot. It was as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over my head, extinguishing the last embers of the fantasy I’d been living in. My throat felt tight, clogged with cotton. The car ride was suffocatingly silent. The three of us were trapped in our own thoughts. A sad, soulful song played on the radio. I found myself wondering… who was the real third wheel in this relationship? … The restaurant was a new, trendy fusion place. It was so popular you had to book a table weeks in advance. We knew each other so well; a single glance was enough to read the other’s mind. As he held the door for me, he didn’t even spare Ivy a glance. “Welcome. Do you have a reservation?” the host asked. George showed him the text from that morning. It felt like a cruel joke, mocking my hopeful gesture with the cake. The host smiled and led us to a private room. Almost every dish on the table was garnished with almonds. Neither George nor I liked almonds. It was painfully obvious who did. My heart sank, stone by heavy stone. Dropping all pretense, I leaned forward, resting my chin on my clasped hands, and looked directly at Ivy. “Do you two have lunch together every day?” Ivy stammered, completely flustered. “Uh, I… I just graduated, and I haven’t found a job yet. My brother’s been busy at lunchtime, so…” George cut in, his brow furrowed. “Her brother has a new girlfriend he’s been seeing at lunch, so he asked me to look after her. I saw she was alone at the office, so we just started eating together.” Ivy nodded eagerly. “Chloe, please don’t misunderstand—” “Do you know he has a fiancée?” I interrupted, my voice dangerously calm. “Do you think it’s appropriate to have lunch every single day with an engaged man?” She fell silent, her head bowed. George’s face turned thunderous. Before he could speak, I fixed my eyes on him. “And you, George,” I said, each word a carefully aimed dart. “Have you forgotten you have a fiancée?” His face went dark, a nerve twitching in his jaw. “Can you stop overthinking everything?” he snapped. “Is it a problem for me to have lunch with anyone now?” “Of course it’s a problem!” My voice rose, the anger finally breaking through. “You’re an engaged man, spending every day with another girl! How is that normal?! You promised me!” Ivy tried to defend him. “It’s just that George felt sorry for me—” Suddenly, her phone rang, shattering the tense standoff. She quickly excused herself to take the call. A moment later, she burst back into the room, clutching her phone so tightly her knuckles were white. Her eyes were red-rimmed with panic. “George! The dance troupe just called. There’s a mistake on my application, and I have to get the corrected forms to them by five o’clock today! It’s the deadline! Can you please, please drive me home to get them? I won’t make it in time!” Her voice trembled with desperation. George shot up from his chair and went to her, completely forgetting I was even there. “Don’t worry, I’ll take you right now.” I grabbed his wrist, my grip like iron. “You can’t go.”

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When my wife was in labor with our second child, the doctor called for the husband to come in for the delivery. I stood up, ready to go to her side, but the nurse called a different name. “Johnny? The husband? She’s ready for you.” I froze. Later, my wife, Chloe, explained she was just worried I’d be scared by the process, so she didn’t call for me. Thinking of the child she had just endured so much to give me, I let it go. But yesterday was our daughter Melissa’s one-month milestone. I suggested we take her for a professional photoshoot, but Chloe refused, saying she didn’t want to bother me while I was so busy with work. Then, at the office, I opened my phone and saw a new post from Johnny. It was a picture of him, Chloe, our son Leo, and our new daughter, Melissa. In the picture, they looked like a perfect family of four. And I… I felt like a stranger, a voyeur spying on a life that should have been mine. That night, I came home and asked for a divorce. She didn’t even take me seriously. “It’s just a few pictures, Ethan. Are you really going to throw our marriage away over this?” “Yes. I am.” 1. Chloe didn’t even look up from her phone. “So, Johnny was in the one-month photos. Is it really that big of a deal? He posted it to his story by accident, and I already made him take it down.” She scrolled, a small smile playing on her lips. “You’re a grown man, Ethan. Are you always going to pick fights over every little thing? If you’re not tired of it, I certainly am.” An accident. If Johnny hadn’t “accidentally” posted that picture, I wonder how much longer I would have been kept in the dark. So, her refusing my offer wasn’t about sparing me from work; it was because she wanted to take the photos with him. A bitter laugh escaped my lips. Chloe’s eyes remained glued to the screen, her smile widening at something she saw. On a sudden, reckless impulse, I snatched the phone from her hand. In all our years of marriage, built on what I thought was absolute trust, I had never once looked through her phone. The shock of it left her momentarily stunned. The screen was still on her social media page. I tapped her profile picture, and the first post I saw made my blood run cold. It was a gallery of Melissa’s one-month photos. Nine pictures. Johnny was in eight of them. The comments below were a sea of cheerful congratulations that burned my eyes. “Such a beautiful couple! And the baby is adorable.” “Wow, my daughter finally came to her senses and started looking at other people!” Chloe hadn’t corrected any of them. Her silence was an endorsement. Before I could scroll further, she lunged for the phone. “What the hell is wrong with you? Give it back!” I held it higher, a cold sneer on my face. “You said Johnny posted it by accident. What about you? This carefully curated nine-picture layout, with me specifically hidden from the post… was that an accident, too?” A flash of guilt crossed her face. She opened her mouth to argue, but a knock at the door cut her off. It was Johnny, standing there with a respectful smile. “Chloe, it’s about time we head out. Everything’s ready at the restaurant for the party. Your mom sent me to hurry you guys along.” Chloe instantly turned off the phone’s screen. “We’ll talk about this when we get back. You wouldn’t want to ruin our daughter’s party over something so small, would you?” she said, her voice low and threatening. “Go get Leo. He should be upstairs watching TV.” She then turned to Johnny, her expression softening instantly. “Thanks for coming to get us.” With her silent permission, Johnny expertly scooped our daughter into his arms. I just stood there, my legs feeling like they were cast in lead. Seeing my inaction, a flicker of annoyance crossed Chloe’s face. “Well? Are you going to get Leo, or do you want to make everyone wait?” I gritted my teeth, swallowing the words that were trying to claw their way up my throat. Hearing the commotion, our son, Leo, appeared at the railing on the second floor. He peeked his head over, saw Johnny, and his face lit up. He came bounding down the stairs. “Uncle Johnny!” I reached out to ruffle his hair, but he dodged my hand and darted behind Johnny, shooting me a look of pure disgust. My hand fell limply to my side. I had steeled myself for this, but the rejection still felt like a knife twisting in my gut. I tried to take Melissa from Johnny’s arms, but Leo shoved me away. “You’re a bad guy! Don’t touch my sister! You’re not allowed!” Chloe looked embarrassed. “Just let Johnny hold her, Ethan. He’s more careful, and she’s always calmer with him.” The casual words were the final straw. “Let’s get a divorce,” I said, my voice flat. “Sign the papers before you go.” Surprise flashed in her eyes, quickly replaced by irritation. “Are you serious? Over a few photos? I was trying to be considerate of your work schedule, that’s why I didn’t ask you to come.” “Johnny was there, so he was in the pictures. If you want some, we can take more later. Why do you have to make such a big deal out of everything?” “And the delivery? I didn’t let you in because I was worried you’d be traumatized by it! Johnny and I grew up together, and he’s a doctor. He’s seen it all before, so I asked him to be there for me.” Her voice rose with every word. “Besides, I already explained all of this to you! What more do you want? Is it fun for you to keep bringing up the past? Can you stop being so unreasonable?!” Her shouting startled Melissa, who began to wail. Johnny rocked her gently, looking at me with a pained expression. “Ethan, I apologize for the photos. I really shouldn’t have been in them,” he said, his tone placating. “It’s all my fault, it has nothing to do with Chloe. If you’re angry, take it out on me. Please don’t let this come between you two.” Chloe stepped in front of him protectively. “This isn’t your fault. You don’t need to apologize.” Leo chimed in, “That’s right! Uncle Johnny, you don’t have to say sorry to the bad guy! When Mommy divorces him, we can all come live at your house!” Chloe, who had been so self-righteous a moment ago, quickly clamped a hand over Leo’s mouth. “Leo, don’t say things like that.” Johnny freed a hand and pulled Leo to his side. “Hey, buddy, let’s not get involved in grown-up stuff, okay? If you’re good, I’ll buy you that new Transformers toy you wanted.” Leo started jumping with excitement. “You’re the best, Uncle Johnny! Not like the bad guy. All he does is bully Mommy and fight with her.” Chloe shot me a look of strained apology, then took Leo’s hand and pushed past me. “If you’re not coming, then you can just stay home and rest. We’re leaving.” I grabbed her arm. “Sign the papers first.” She rolled her eyes, her patience clearly gone. Just as she was about to explode, her phone rang. After a moment, her voice was sharp and annoyed. “You should talk to Ethan. He’s trying to divorce me because Johnny was in Melissa’s photos, and now he won’t let me leave for the party.” She listened for another moment, then put the phone on speaker and shoved it in my face. Her mother’s shrill voice filled the room. “Ethan, what is wrong with you now? Are you not happy until you’ve completely humiliated my daughter? Look at the time! Stop this nonsense!” “Chloe and Johnny are childhood friends! If anything was going to happen between them, it would have happened long before you came along! Frankly, I wish it had.” “Johnny is successful, he’s caring—he’s ten times the man you are! Instead of throwing tantrums, maybe you should try learning something from him!” Her mother’s tirade left me speechless. It was pointless. Their complete lack of concern, their casual dismissal of my feelings, it made me feel like I was the one going crazy. And maybe I was. They had driven me to it. I met Chloe in college. We were young, clumsy, and fell into a relationship that somehow lasted for five years. When it was time to talk about marriage, her parents were dead set against it. They thought I was poor, that I wasn’t good enough. They threatened to break her legs if she married me. After we got married, I threw myself into my work, determined to prove them wrong. I worked until I was sick, literally. I once landed in the ER after drinking so much at a client dinner that I ended up with a bleeding stomach. When her parents came to visit, their words were laced with venom. “I told you she shouldn’t have married you. You’re useless. You land yourself in the hospital trying to close one deal.” “Why didn’t he just drink himself to death? Then you could find someone better while you’re still young.” I buried their words and worked even harder, building my company from the ground up. But it was never enough. Nothing I did would ever be enough for them. I thought Chloe, at least, would understand. But she complained that I was neglecting her. Our son grew distant. I tried to pull back from work, to make it up to them, but she pushed me away. When Melissa was born, she had Johnny in the delivery room. She took him to Melissa’s one-month photoshoot. And her parents, who despised me, encouraged it all. I’ve had enough. I finally see things clearly. All I want now is for it to be over. “Just sign the divorce papers, and you can go to your party,” I said, my voice devoid of emotion. “After this, we can go our separate ways. I’ll give you half of everything.” “As for custody,” I added, “Melissa stays with me. I will give her the best life, the best education.” Chloe’s patience snapped. “The best education? Ethan, are you trying to raise her to be a paranoid maniac like you? Did you beg and plead to marry me just so you could torture me to death?” She grabbed the divorce agreement from the table and, in a fit of rage, ripped it to shreds, throwing the pieces at my chest. “Is that what you want? For me to admit I was wrong? Fine! I was wrong! I’m sorry! Okay? Can we go now?” Her words were an accusation, not an apology. She was trying to force me to back down. Leo tried to shield her with his small body. “You’re a bad guy! Don’t you bully my mom! And you’re not taking my sister!” After a moment, Chloe took a deep breath and patted his shoulder. “Leo, apologize to your father.” “Daddy is angry because Uncle Johnny was in the photos with us,” she explained, her voice deceptively calm. “If you don’t apologize, he’s going to leave our family.” Leo pouted. “Let him leave! I hope I never see the bad guy again!” he shouted. “I’m not saying sorry! Get out of our house! I want Uncle Johnny to be my dad!” Looking at his defiant little face, I could barely hold back my tears. He used to adore me. He used to wait by the door for me to come home from work so we could play. Chloe sighed heavily. “Leo, don’t talk to your father like that. Apologize to him, or he might really leave.” Leo’s little fists were clenched at his sides. “I won’t! I won’t say sorry to the bad guy!” With that, his face crumpled, and he burst into tears. Johnny knelt down and gently wiped his cheeks. “Hey, no crying. Big boys don’t cry, remember?” he murmured. “Just say you’re sorry to your dad. If you do, I promise I’ll take you to my secret hideout, okay?” Leo rubbed his eyes. “Really?” After Johnny nodded, Leo turned to me and mumbled a reluctant, “Sorry.” Chloe looked at her son, her eyes filled with pity. “There. Are you happy now? He apologized. Can you stop this nonsense?” Just then, Leo started pounding on my leg with his small fists. “You big bad guy! Let go of my mom!” “Mommy, just divorce the bad guy! I want Uncle Johnny to be my daddy! Grandma said the bad guy is a jinx and that Mommy will only be happy with Uncle Johnny!” Something inside me snapped. My grip on Chloe’s arm tightened without me realizing it. “Who taught him to say these things?” I roared, my voice shaking with a rage I hadn’t known I possessed. “He’s a child! Why would he say that? Tell me! All these years, I have worked myself to the bone, day and night, to give you a better life! And you… what have you done to me? Do you even have a heart, Chloe? Why would you turn our son against me like this?” Chloe shrank back, trying desperately to pull her arm free. “Bad guys die!” Leo screamed. He grabbed the heavy ceramic vase from the entryway table and, without a moment’s hesitation, swung it with all his might into the small of my back. A sharp, shattering pain exploded across my spine. The shards of the vase sliced through my shirt, followed by the warm trickle of blood. I sucked in a sharp breath, frozen in place. In that instant, all the strength, all the fight, drained out of me. I clutched at the bleeding wound and slowly turned my head. Leo’s expression, though frightened, held no regret. At that moment, the dam broke. Tears I had held back for years streamed down my face. Chloe was clearly shocked. “Leo! What have you done? How could you hit your father with a vase?” Summoning his courage, our son stammered, “Mommy, I just… I just didn’t want the bad guy to hurt you.” Chloe stared at him for a few seconds, then rushed forward and wrapped him in a tight embrace. I wiped the tears from my eyes. From the drawer under the table, I pulled out another copy of the divorce agreement. “Sign it.”

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Three days before my wedding, I discovered Eric had changed our venue from my grandmother’s estate to a Spanish castle—Chloe’s favorite place. I rushed to confront him but overheard him complaining: “Thank God Chloe has taste. Otherwise, I’d be a laughingstock.” His friend asked, “But you promised her grandmother’s place. Won’t she call it off?” Eric scoffed: “Her family’s bankrupt. Marrying me is her only way out. She can’t afford to gamble.” He smirked, “The planner already called her. She’s probably rebooking her flight right now.” Anger and betrayal twisted inside me. I bit my lip and walked away. Three days later, the castle wedding proceeded. I didn’t rebook my flight. I didn’t show up. Instead, in my grandmother’s garden, I exchanged rings with another man. To this day, Eric doesn’t understand: I didn’t marry him for a way out—but for a love that lasted ten years. When the dream ended, I simply made another choice. 1 Not long after I left the Levine Corporation building, Eric sent me the address of the Spanish castle along with a photo. It was a stunning shot of the castle’s facade—ivory limestone walls, a gilded dome, the very picture of opulence. But front and center in the photo, a striking figure in a flowing red dress with a cascade of auburn curls, was Chloe. My finger hovered over her beaming face for a moment, and a wave of absurdity washed over me. I was the bride. This was supposed to be our wedding venue. Yet the star of the photo he sent was his childhood friend, the one he always insisted was “just a friend, don’t overthink it.” After that, silence. I knew Eric. He figured the wedding planner had already broken the news, so he was just nudging things along, sending the address so I wouldn’t book a flight to the wrong country. A stone had settled in my stomach. I couldn’t wrap my head around it. He had promised me we’d have the ceremony at my grandmother’s estate. Why would he change everything, without a second thought, just because Chloe liked a castle? It was dark by the time I got home. As I approached the door, I heard Eric snapping at the housekeeper. “Ava isn’t a toddler. Does she really expect me to worry if she’s a little late?” “But sir,” the housekeeper said nervously, “Ms. Quinn left right after the call from the wedding planner this morning. I was worried she might…” Eric laughed, a harsh, cutting sound. “She left to sort out her visa and change her flights. Getting the entire Quinn clan rerouted isn’t a simple task.” He sounded so sure of himself. “Don’t worry. Ava has been dreaming of marrying me for years. She’d be lost without me. I could move the venue to Antarctica and she’d crawl her way there, let alone to a castle hand-picked by Chloe.” The housekeeper fell silent, but Eric kept muttering to himself. “Chloe hasn’t texted back in five minutes… I should go check on her.” He hurried out of the house just as I was slipping away. It was the Levine family villa, after all. Not my home. He’d asked me to move in to make wedding preparations easier. At first, it was perfect. We were honey-sweet, just like any other engaged couple. Then Chloe came home, nursing a broken heart, and Eric announced he had to go comfort her. That “comforting” had now stretched into four months. Anytime Chloe felt down, he would drop everything—drop me—and run to her side. I chose the wedding dress alone. I designed the layout for the ceremony in my grandmother’s garden alone. He had no part in it. Whenever I dared to complain, he’d look up from his phone, his face a mask of irritation from being interrupted while texting her. “You only want to marry me to save your family’s business, right?” he’d say. “I’ve already agreed to that. What more do you want?” Then his phone would ring—Chloe, of course—and he’d walk out, a smile already on his face, leaving my words to vanish into the air. “You were the one who proposed to me,” I’d whisper to the empty room. “I said yes because I loved you…” In that moment, I went from a woman giddy with the joy of her upcoming wedding to a lonely spectator in my own life. And now, even the choice of where I would get married had nothing to do with me. I spent that night at a friend’s place. Eric never once tried to contact me. The next day, after finishing the handover at my job, I walked into the villa to the sound of Chloe’s cheerful laughter. “During the vows, you have to have flower petals floating down from both sides,” she was saying, her eyes sparkling. “It’s so much more romantic that way.” Eric sat beside her, his gaze soft and full of adoration, following her every move. “Whatever you want.” It was a look of devotion he had never given me. When she saw me, Chloe waved me over. “Ava, you’re here! I have the most amazing idea for the wedding!” From the corner of my eye, I saw Eric frown at me. “Where have you been? Chloe’s been working on this wedding for four months, and you’ve barely lifted a finger.” He didn’t stop there. “It’s for the best, I guess. Chloe’s taste is far better than yours. That rustic theme you came up with was so embarrassing. I almost became a joke in my circle.” That feeling of being an outsider washed over me again, cold and sharp. “I’m tired,” I said, my voice flat. “I’m going to rest.” Ignoring the deep furrow in Eric’s brow, I walked straight to the guest room. As I closed the door, a message popped up on my phone, one I had ignored many times before. “Just say the word, and I’ll crash that wedding, even if it costs me everything.” From outside the door, I could hear Chloe describing her dream of a flower-filled castle wedding, punctuated by Eric’s endless, patient refrains of “Whatever you want.” I gave a bitter smile and typed a reply. “You don’t have to crash it. You’ll be the groom.” Eric, if you were destined for a castle, then I would go south, back home. I would set you free. And in doing so, I would finally set myself free. 2 I tossed and turned all night. Every time I closed my eyes, I was flooded with memories of the last ten years with Eric, of a love I thought was boundless. He used to be my staunchest defender. No matter who said I wasn’t good enough for him, he would stand by my side, unyielding. My grandmother, in her final days, had taken his hand and told him she was entrusting me to him. His gaze had been a fire, and he’d nodded solemnly. “Grandma, don’t worry. I love Ava more than I love myself. I will never let her suffer.” “I promise you,” he’d sworn, “we’ll get married right here in your garden, so you can see her walk down the aisle with your own eyes.” Those vows felt like granite then, unbreakable and eternal. But I had forgotten that even stone can be worn away by water, that time erodes even the most sacred of promises. The day before the wedding, I found a long purple dress laid out in the living room. It had a sweeping train and a giant, blood-red flower blooming on the chest. Chloe rushed over, beaming. “Ava, look! I designed this wedding dress for you myself.” “Eric said you liked a rustic, countryside style, so I did a lot of research on village weddings to get it just right!” Even though I had already made my decision, the sight of this so-called “wedding dress” made me cringe. “In my hometown, the bride wears a wedding dress,” I said coolly. “Not a bridesmaid’s gown.” Chloe’s smile faltered, and she took a step back. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Ava. I didn’t mean to overstep.” “I just thought… I thought you would like it… I’ll get rid of it right now!” She grabbed a pair of scissors and moved toward the dress, but Eric, emerging from his study, snatched them from her hand. “How many times have I told you not to be careless with scissors? What if you hurt yourself?” Tears welled in Chloe’s eyes, her voice trembling. “Eric, did I do something wrong? Ava is so angry with me…” Before I could explain, Eric turned on me, his face dark. “Chloe spent four months designing this for you. She pulled all-nighters talking to the seamstress. Is this how you repay her?” “If it weren’t for her, you wouldn’t even have a dress to wear.” “Apologize!” he commanded. I met his furious gaze, and the situation struck me as utterly ridiculous. When I had tried to discuss the dress with him weeks ago, he’d told me not to bother him while he was taking Chloe to Bali to cheer her up. Yes, Chloe was so very important. When Chloe was sad about her breakup, he stayed up all night talking to her. On my birthday, he booked out a theater for Chloe so she could watch a romance movie. When I was burning up with a fever from overwork, he told me to “drink more water” before rushing Chloe to a private clinic for a tiny scratch on her arm. This was my wedding. I had done everything I was supposed to do. But because Chloe had inserted herself, the narrative had become “she did everything for me.” Eric’s relatives all saw me as lazy and ungrateful. They all despised me. The truth was, my real wedding dress and his suit were hanging in the closet of my guest room right now. He hadn’t even bothered to look at them, yet here he was, demanding I apologize to her. The disappointment settled deeper, and my expression hardened. Eric sneered. “You’re not going to apologize? Fine. Then the wedding is off. We’ll get married when you decide to say you’re sorry to Chloe!” Suddenly, my clenched fists relaxed. I looked at him, my voice clear and steady. “Fine.” With that, I went to my room to pack. Noah had told me the bougainvillea at my grandmother’s house was in full bloom. I wanted to see it again. Grandma and I had planted it together before my parents moved me to the city. In the living room, Eric was comforting Chloe, but a flicker of irritation crossed his face. He glanced at the guest room door and, turning away from her, discreetly texted his assistant. The reply came quickly: “Mr. Levine, Ms. Quinn does have a record of a flight change with LevineAir, but I don’t have the clearance to see the final flight information. You’ll have to check it yourself.” The tension in his face eased. He replied with a simple, “No need.” As I finished packing, a text from Eric came through. “If you’re going to be my wife, you need to work on that temper. Chloe was only trying to help. How could you hurt her feelings like that?” “Anyway, there’s a family dinner this afternoon. I’ll take Chloe over first, and I’ll send a driver for you.” “When you get there, just apologize to Chloe, and we can move past this. We’re getting married tomorrow. Let’s not ruin the mood.” A Levine family dinner, and he was escorting Chloe. When the driver knocked, I took one last look at my luggage. Fine. Eric had proposed to me in public. It was only fitting that I call it off in public, too. 3 When I arrived at the old Levine estate, Chloe was the center of attention, surrounded by admiring relatives. “Ava, over here!” She spotted me and glided over in her stilettos. I noticed she had changed into a stunning red evening gown. It was identical to the reception dress I had chosen for myself. I instinctively bit my lip. Just then, Eric came down the stairs. His eyes landed on Chloe, and they lit up with genuine wonder. “Chloe, you look beautiful!” She blushed. “Eric, stop it. Ava’s right here.” She turned to me, her expression a perfect mask of contrition. “Ava, please don’t be upset. I feel so terrible about causing that fight between you two this morning.” Eric couldn’t take his eyes off her, the sparkle in them undeniable. He didn’t even glance at me as he gently brushed an eyelash from under her eye. The gesture sent a ripple of laughter through the room. Eric’s father sighed wistfully. “Chloe and our Eric always did make a better pair, didn’t they?” I looked down at my own simple sea-green dress. I was no goddess, but Eric used to tell me I was beautiful all the time, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear with such care. Chloe was now chiding his father playfully. “Uncle, please don’t say things like that in front of Ava. You’ll hurt her feelings.” Eric’s parents just chuckled. Finally, Eric deigned to look at me, his face clouded with annoyance. “My parents watched Chloe grow up. Can’t you be a little less petty? It was just a compliment.” “No wonder my mother always says a good upbringing is everything,” he continued, his voice dripping with disdain. “You grew up with your grandmother in the countryside and didn’t move to the city until you were eighteen. You really don’t have any class at all.” My brow furrowed. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Eric, you know how much my grandmother loved you. Aren’t you afraid of hurting her by saying that?” He looked momentarily guilty, but with his family watching, his expression hardened again. “The point is, Chloe and I are just friends who grew up together. Don’t let your petty female jealousy upset her.” It always came back to Chloe. A profound weariness washed over me. The weight of the past few months, of our entire history, felt like a mountain crushing my chest. After a long moment, I finally spoke. “I came here today because I wanted to tell you…” “Eric!” Chloe interrupted loudly. “My best friend wants to come to Spain too! Are there any empty seats on the flight?” Eric nodded immediately. “Of course. I’ll arrange it.” His assistant hesitated. “Sir, wasn’t the last seat reserved for Ms. Quinn…?” “Oh, then never mind,” Chloe said, her voice laced with disappointment. “I don’t want to upset Ava…” Eric couldn’t stand to see her sad. “Ava can take another flight,” he said decisively. “Chloe’s friend doesn’t know anyone. She has to fly with us.” Chloe beamed, grabbing his arm and swinging it playfully. “Eric, I knew you were the best!” The contemptuous glances in the room shifted back to me. “Eric chartered two private jets just for the wedding, and now the bride isn’t even on one of them.” “So what? To save her family, Ava would walk there if she had to.” The whispers of ridicule surrounded me, but Eric, his eyes only for Chloe, didn’t hear me, didn’t see me. I was, and always had been, just a spectator. Sighing internally, I turned to leave. I would cancel the engagement later. But as I did, my eyes caught a glint of gold around Chloe’s neck. A necklace. Dangling from it was a diamond, cut in the shape of a plum blossom. My world exploded. “Where did you get that diamond?!”

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