Category: English

The diagnosis was cancer. Testicular cancer. The surgery—a radical orchiectomy—was performed by my own mother, Diana Westcott, the Chief of Surgery at Veridian City’s most prestigious hospital. I was barely out of the anesthesia when I heard the low voices of the assistant surgeon and a nurse. “Professor Westcott actually went through with it, tricking her own son just to appease the little foster darling.” “I know, right? And his wife, Blair, authorized it. They say he’s completely gutted now, missing two key parts. He’s ruined.” My body seized in a cold tremor. The first thing I did when I could move was try to crawl up and demand an explanation. My wife, Blair Kincaid, didn’t even flinch. She was tucked against Jude Ashton, her foster son, and the smile she gave me was utterly ruthless. “What’s wrong, Cal? You spent years mocking Jude for being frail and sickly. It’s about time you learned a lesson, don’t you think?” I stumbled forward, only to be shoved back onto the surgical table by my own mother. “Stop this nonsense, Calvin!” Diana’s voice was sharp with annoyance. “Jude’s story is heartbreaking. You have everything. Losing two small organs is a negligible price to pay for what you have.” My son, Brooks, the genius I’d raised, chimed in with a chillingly casual tone. “Seriously, Dad. Looking at you now, it’s about time you just let Mom go.” It was then, in that moment of absolute, soul-crushing betrayal, that the system—my long-dormant link to my real life—flickered back online. [Host, your Redemption Quest has been confirmed as complete. Do you wish to immediately initiate soul-return to your original world?] A slow, profoundly relieved smile stretched across my face. If this deep, all-consuming act of devotion and rescue was a lie from the very beginning, why should I care what happens to them? I hit the confirmation button instantly. The system’s cold, metallic voice was the sweetest sound I’d ever heard. [Soul-return confirmed. Upon your physical demise, everyone in this fictional world will be erased in three days. Initiating exit portal. Award: $700 Million USD plus permanent health confirmation in the original world.] … Hearing the reward, my heart was flooded with pure, ecstatic anticipation. Home. I staggered to my feet, the simple act of walking sending agonizing, post-surgical pain shooting through my body. I made for the window. I looked out at the glittering skyline of Veridian City. Millions of lights, yet not a single one had ever shone for me. That thought alone made me quicken my pace. A mocking voice sliced through the silence. I turned my head. It was my son, Brooks. “Dad, you should be resting. Why are you climbing up there?” He folded his arms, unimpressed. “You’re not an actor. Who are you putting on this dramatic ‘I’m going to end it all’ performance for?” “A performance?” I stared deeply into his face, searching for any flicker of genuine emotion. “Tell me, Brooks, who was really performing for whom?” His reply was effortless. “This is hardly a trick. It was a simple misdiagnosis by Grandma. You don’t have cancer, so you’re not going to die. You can stay right here with us. Isn’t that great news?” Oh, right. I was supposed to be celebrating the dismantling of the life I’d built. I turned back to the window. The night wind was a sharp, biting chill. I had stepped onto that surgical table to live. I was stepping onto this ledge to die and truly live again. Without hesitation, I leaned out, ready to fall. But the relief of the drop never came. Brooks had pressed the emergency call button and was now dragging me back, his teenage grip surprisingly strong. “Dad! What are you doing? Hold on to me!” “Let go,” I rasped, the word tearing out of my throat. Brooks clenched his jaw, veins popping in his neck. “I won’t!” “Dad, they’re just body parts. It’s not a big deal. Mom said she’d never abandon you, no matter what.” I was sick of their calculated lies. I thrashed my arms, trying to shake him off. His eyes went red with panic, and he pleaded through a sob, “Can you really bear to leave me, Dad? To die alone?” I looked up at the boy I had raised with my own hands. The terror in his eyes looked convincingly genuine. I yanked hard. My gaze was ice. “If you can’t bear to let me go, then come down and join me.” I pulled with all my strength, twisting his body outward. The blood drained from his face. He finally released his grip, his strength completely failing him. He was truly scared. I felt my body slowly slipping down, and just as I thought freedom was mine, a powerful force yanked me back. Security guards and nurses had rushed in, surrounding me. Damn it. I was one step too slow. Torn from the window, I collapsed on the bed, exhausted. Brooks was hysterical, shaking and weeping. Before I could fully process the failure, Blair burst into the room. She pushed through the crowd, stopping right beside me. Smack. The sound echoed. My head snapped to the side. “Are you insane, Cal?” Her eyes were bloodshot. She grabbed my collar, her face inches from mine. “Brooks is our flesh and blood! You tried to drag him to his death just to prove a point?! Calvin Westcott, how long are you going to keep this up? Do you have no heart at all?” I choked on the bitter irony of her question and let out a single, cold laugh. I have no heart? Who told me I had cancer? Who put me through pointless chemotherapy when I was perfectly healthy? Who ordered my body to be mutilated, all under the guise of treatment, just to appease the fragile feelings of her foster son? I managed a pained, hollow smile, looking at my own body, weakened and ravaged by unnecessary procedures. But I was too tired to explain. I simply didn’t care anymore. My silence seemed to fuel Blair’s impatience. She ordered the guards to lift me. “If you don’t want to be in this hospital, then you’re coming home with me!” Numbly, I allowed myself to be dragged and shoved into the car. Only one thought remained: I had to find a chance to completely escape this world. The lights of Veridian City flew by. The urban warmth was palpable, yet there was no place for me in that life. As the car sped up a desolate hillside road, I suddenly reached for the door handle. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?!” Blair roared, grabbing my arm. The driver swerved violently, the sedan carving a sickening arc on the road. I put all my remaining strength into pushing the door open. A blast of icy air flooded the car. Without a second thought, I pushed my weak body out. Just as I was about to tumble onto the asphalt, Blair, fueled by a terrifying, primal strength, yanked me back and pinned me down. The car, completely out of control, slammed violently into the mountainside guardrail. The impact threw us forward. Blair’s forehead hit the dashboard, and blood immediately streamed down her face. She fixed me with an icy, contained rage. “You want to die that badly?” I looked at her, my answer firm. “Yes.” She opened her mouth to say something else, but the acrid smell of gasoline hit our nostrils. Blair’s face paled. She looked for the driver, who had already abandoned the vehicle and fled. Panicked, she ignored the cut on her head and fought to pull me out. I had no survival instinct left, even hoping the flames would arrive sooner. “Just go. Leave me.” She didn’t hear me. She was frantically wrestling with the seat mechanism that had trapped my legs. When she finally pulled me free, her fingers were bloody, but she didn’t seem to feel the pain. She dragged my dead weight out of the wreck. The instant we cleared the car, there was a deafening explosion. A monstrous column of fire swallowed the expensive German sedan. The heat washed over us. Blair gasped for air, her eyes blazing red. “Let me tell you something, Calvin Westcott, and listen carefully.” “You do not get to die without my permission!” The scene was a chilling echo of years ago, when we were trapped in a blazing warehouse after a clash with a rival syndicate. I had taken a bullet for her, collapsing at her feet. Back then, she had cried and said: “Cal, hold on. I’m here. I won’t let you die.” I lived by that promise. I bled and fought for her, carving a path out of the shadows and using the full power of the Westcott name to help her become the unrivaled queen of Veridian City’s underworld and high society. Now, the same scenario only filled me with sickening irony. I don’t remember how I got back to the penthouse suite. As soon as we walked in, the warm, jovial atmosphere hit me—a stark contrast to my own frozen state. Jude Ashton was there, blowing on a bowl of artisanal bone broth. My mother, Diana, hovered behind him, her eyes full of doting concern. “Slow down, Jude. Don’t burn yourself.” “You’re too thin, sweetheart. You need to gain some weight.” Seeing us, particularly Blair, covered in blood and soot, Jude rushed over. “Blair, what happened? You’re hurt!” He glanced at me—a quick look of contempt, which he instantly softened into pity. “It must be Cal. Don’t be too hard on him. He probably can’t accept… the reality of his condition. We need to be compassionate.” I couldn’t stop myself. I lunged and landed a solid punch on his jaw. “Shut up! What right do you have to stand there and play the saint?” Jude stumbled back, shock and pain evident in his eyes. Almost simultaneously, my mother threw herself forward, slapping me hard, and pulling Jude protectively behind her. “Enough!” she shrieked. “Look at you! You’re supposed to be the heir to the Westcott name. We indulged you too much, and now you think you can terrorize Jude! A simple orchiectomy was meant to teach you discipline. Instead, you throw a suicidal tantrum!” I stared at her, the woman who had once loved me fiercely, and asked the question that killed my last ounce of hope. “Is this why you lied about my having a fatal illness? To put me through that just for him?” She didn’t answer. Guilt? No, maybe just a twisted sense of righteousness. When I entered this world, Diana was a grieving widow, constantly fighting off rivals who wanted to seize my father’s empire. The System sent me to ‘redeem’ her. For a long time, we were each other’s salvation. I had even considered giving up my mission to stay. But the moment I brought in Jude—the poor, smart medical student I’d sponsored—everyone around me turned. My slightest criticism of Jude was instantly interpreted as abuse or jealousy. They would willingly see me crippled and hurt just to appease him. I let out a bitter laugh and reached for the silver letter opener on the coffee table. I failed again. Blair reacted like lightning, snatching the opener away. “Calvin Westcott, are you addicted to using death as a bargaining chip?” Her tone was frigid. She jammed the point of the opener back into my hand, pressing it against her own chest. “If you want to die, you have to kill me first! Go on. Do it! I dare you!” I released the opener, my arm falling uselessly to my side. “Why, Blair? Why do this?” She stared at me, stubbornly defiant. “Cal, I know you still care about me. Just stop antagonizing Jude. Even if you can’t… be a man in the traditional sense, you will always be my husband.” The air thickened with silent contempt. In the next second, my mother stepped forward and yanked the heavy, engraved signet ring—the heirloom symbolizing the Westcott inheritance—from my finger. Her eyes were filled with cold disappointment. “In this state, you are utterly unfit to be the Westcott heir.” The words that followed were the final nail in the coffin. “When you and your father were in that accident, I had to choose who lived. If I had known you would become this soft, suicidal man, I never should have saved you.” My heart didn’t just break; it dissolved. Lying on the cold marble floor, I laughed until tears streamed down my face. Right in front of me, Diana placed the signet ring into Jude’s hand. That night, I was locked away in the panic room—the reinforced cellar—to prevent any further attempts at escape or death. Jude used “psychological therapy” as an excuse to gain unrestricted access to me. “Jude, Cal’s very unstable right now. You’re a doctor. I’m relying on you to keep him calm,” Blair said, massaging her temples, relieved to pass off the responsibility. But she didn’t see the veneer drop the moment the heavy steel door closed. Jude kicked me, aiming for the area of my recent surgery, forcing me to look at him. “You know what, Calvin? I always hated that arrogant, high-and-mighty look on your face.” He leaned closer, his voice a mocking whisper. “Now, you’re not even a man. What gives you the right to compete with me anymore?” I struggled weakly. He simply chuckled and plunged a cold needle into my arm. “Don’t worry, big brother. You want to die, but I won’t let you. I will keep you alive. And I will make you so weak, you’ll live under my shadow like a perfectly obedient dog.” I lost track of how many days passed. Then, Brooks crept in, holding a takeout container of artisanal soup, his eyes widening at the sight of my skeletal, wasted body. Perhaps the sight of my living death finally triggered some guilt. His eyes were red. He clumsily spooned the soup to my lips. “Dad… please, just eat something.” I turned my head away from the spoon, only able to manage a faint, broken whisper. “… just let me die…” Brooks’s hand, holding the spoon, trembled violently. My refusal felt like a personal insult to him. His face instantly contorted with anger. “Always this! You use this hunger strike to make us suffer! To make Mom and me feel guilty, right?” I closed my eyes, trying to block out the flood of memories: his face when he slept, the contented expression; tossing him up and down while he squealed, “Daddy is Superman!” I relinquished it all. I didn’t want any of it. After a long silence, I squeezed a single word from my throat. “Get out.” Brooks’s tears finally spilled over. He spun around and ran out. He didn’t close the door properly. Perhaps it was a final burst of adrenaline, but I found the strength to drag myself, inch by painful inch, out of the cellar. The main hall was brightly lit, buzzing with people. It was their victory party. Center stage, the three people I had loved were gathered around Jude Ashton, forming a perfect, happy family portrait. Jude, the triumphant victor, was wearing a bespoke suit, holding my father’s Westcott signet ring. “Jude, from this day forward, all the Westcott assets and influence in Veridian City belong to you,” Diana announced to the gathered guests, patting his shoulder. Blair stood beside him, leaning delicately against his chest, and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You deserve this, Jude.” Even my son, Brooks, looked up at him with clear admiration. “Thank you, Uncle Jude, for taking such good care of our family.” Rage obliterated the last of my sanity. I scrambled down the last flight of stairs. “Give it back to me!” I lunged at Jude, desperate to grab the ring. In the struggle, the heavy, engraved crest shattered into two pieces. The hall went silent. A second later, Jude began to laugh—a triumphant, cruel sound. “Hahaha! Even the heirloom rejects you, you useless cripple!” Blair threw me off her foster son, and I crashed into a tall pyramid of champagne glasses. She put Jude behind her and faced the stunned crowd, her expression terrifyingly cold. “Please excuse us, ladies and gentlemen.” “My husband… he’s had a difficult time accepting the physical changes after his cancer surgery. He’s been receiving psychiatric treatment.” In a few quick sentences, she publicly branded me as a volatile madman. Whispers rippled through the crowd. “He’s actually insane? No wonder…” “Ms. Kincaid is so strong, managing the empire and having to carry that dead weight.” “Young Master Jude is a godsend. It’s right that Diana gave him the ring.” The cutting words finally stopped my struggle. I stopped crying. I stopped lashing out. I simply looked at them. “Blair Kincaid,” I said, my voice flat. “One should never forget one’s origins. Have you forgotten how I built you into the woman you are today?” Then, I turned to Diana. “Mother… no, Ms. Westcott. Do you truly think simply wearing my father’s name gives you the right to steal his legacy? You know how much he loved you. Yet you betray his memory and trick your own flesh-and-blood, leaving me a castrated shell, all for an imposter. Does your conscience let you sleep at night?” The hall erupted in commotion. The family advisors looked uneasy. I reached out, my fingers closing around a handgun a security guard had foolishly left holstered on his hip. Without a moment of doubt, I pressed the muzzle to my temple and smiled—a final, genuine, liberated smile. The sound of the shot was deafening. I heard the System’s cold prompt one last time. [Physical demise detected. Initiating exit portal immediately.]

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In the seventh year of my relationship with Julian Vance, the new drama he starred in exploded overnight. The Shippers of him and the heroine invaded the comment section of my, an amateur girlfriend’s Instagram: “Hurry up and give Julian to someone more suitable.” “The one not loved is the third party, sister you are really superfluous.” “If you don’t break up, we will scold you until you do.” I was so angry I wanted to delete my account. Julian laughed at me for making a fuss, “They just haven’t moved on from the drama.” Later, at every promotional event for the new drama, Julian and the heroine would look at each other and shed tears. When the host asked about feelings, the heroine cried and said: “The order of appearance in life is really important.” Julian sighed, raised his hand and touched her head. That night I proposed a breakup. Julian frowned and explained to me, “She just hasn’t moved on.” “Mm.” “I didn’t cheat.” “Okay.” He didn’t understand, “Then why break up?” I smiled, “Julian Vance, I just suddenly feel it’s meaningless, thoroughly meaningless.” Chapter 1 Julian seemed not to hear me clearly. After a moment of silence, he said lightly: “I want to hear the real reason.” I shrugged, “This is it.” He stared into my eyes, thinking he saw through my mind. “Layla, it’s nothing more than because of what happened during the day, you started being suspicious again, right?” Julian emphasized the word “again”. Indeed, I used to suffer from gains and losses due to lack of security. Especially in the last two years, Julian’s career was on the rise. Once he entered the set, he wouldn’t reply to messages or answer calls. Where he was filming, who he partnered with, he never told me. Many times, I relied on scrolling Twitter, learning Julian’s recent situation from paparazzi roadshows. In those videos, hugging, holding, kissing, were all common meals. I often watched and watched, uncontrollably imagining him being intimate with others, and then suffered insomnia. Maybe I was too petty. A few times I couldn’t hold back, called over, and was coldly hung up by Julian. Next time we met, he always criticized me first time: “I said many times, I need to get into character, completely immerse in the script, can’t be disturbed by outside people and things. “As a professional actor’s girlfriend, you must understand me, support me, not cause trouble, understand?” Chapter 2 I have tried my best not to cause trouble. Only once, haven’t seen for more than three months, I missed Julian too much. I inquired about the schedule in advance, confirmed he wasn’t filming that day before going to visit. To bring his favorite pastries, I queued for three hours. Result caught up with heavy rain. The crew temporarily moved a heavy rain scene to that day. Because of my intrusion, Julian’s kissing scene couldn’t get into state, NG several times. He always treated people properly and thoughtfully, temper extremely good. Worried about causing trouble to everyone, kept apologizing. Only vented anger on me. Even threw the pastries I bought. “Layla, who let you come? Take your broken stuff, go!” My tears swirled in eye sockets. “Julian Vance, you bastard, you only know how to fierce me! “Seeing you busy, I immediately went to the lounge to wait, where exactly did I hinder you? “I don’t want to date you anymore! Break up!” Hearing “break up” two words, Julian paused for two seconds. He clenched fists, restraining full anger. Pressed me on the chair to kiss, kissing and biting, fierce terribly. “Quarrel is quarrel, dare you casually mention break up later?” Today, Julian wanted to repeat the old trick. I stepped back. Let him pounce on empty air. Julian pinched his brow center, patiently continued to explain: “Tara is a newcomer, young, just can’t get out of character for a while, is it wrong? “All colleagues, colleague cried I comfort a bit, is it wrong? “Can you not always suspect me, making me look like a scumbag, I have great mental pressure…” He chattered endlessly. I didn’t listen to a word. Mind recalling the live broadcast during the day. After Julian and Tara looked at each other for a long time, both cried into tears. I don’t understand. In the drama, the ending of male and female leads is happy and perfect. Outside drama, ratings soared all the way, receiving countless praises. What exactly are they crying for? Julian subconsciously wanted to help Tara wipe tears, hand raised halfway felt inappropriate, changed to touching head. A detail made Shippers edit countless videos. Caption: [Your tears are still on face, but I no longer have the identity to wipe them.] If before, I would be extremely jealous, let Julian coax me. But current me won’t. Turns out when relationship reaches end, really like a pool of dead water, can’t stir up waves. “You are not wrong okay, Julian Vance. “But today I just want to break up.” Chapter 3 My stubbornness exhausted Julian’s patience. He was in a hurry to catch a flight, no time to pull with me, only left a sentence: “You calm down yourself first.” This is his most common way to solve problems between us. Just hands off and ignore. Next time meet again, two people kiss hug tired for a while, treat previous quarrel as never happened. With him, not mentioning means passed. But with me, every stroke is remembered. Few days later, I signed a shop transfer contract. “Miss Layla, I see your business usually very good, why not doing it?” I looked at the flower shop in front of me, still very reluctant. After all, poured my effort of several years here. “Because I am about to leave Los Angeles.” Me and Julian are both from San Francisco. Back then he went north to build career, I quit job followed him to LA. At beginning we were very poor, lived in a ten square meter single room, monthly rent six hundred fifty, window only half above ground. Always passersby curiously peeking into window. LA so prosperous. And we were like rats living in gutter. Winter here cold to bone. I bought a second-hand heater, contact bad caught fire at midnight. Julian heard news, borrowed friend’s car, drove seven hours night road back. He this person, put almost all emotions into acting. Usually treat people things lightly. But that time, he hugged me cried almost alkalosis. “Layla, is me useless, let you suffer with me. “I will be red, I will earn lots lots money later, love you cherish you whole life!” Seven years passed. Julian’s career rose step by step, conflicts between us also more and more. No way. I am a person extremely anxious about intimate relationships. And Julian happens to be an actor. His job requires filming many intimate scenes, requires stuffing his soul into another identity, imagining loving others as the character in the play. Once he filmed an intense kissing scene with an actress. That part was exactly the famous scene where male and female leads emotional entanglement deepest. Two people both kissed to tears, uncontrollably hugged together kissed for long time, didn’t even hear director shout cut. Finally both fell on bed, bodies sticking, tearing clothes. Those behind were not in script. Were subconscious reactions after true feelings revealed. Director couldn’t stop applauding, “Good, this part added good, looks like really moved.” Just so coincidence, that day was Julian’s birthday, I specially brought gift to find him. Honestly speaking, seeing that scene, I was very uncomfortable. But no way. This is his job. Even I get angry, jealous, all appear unreasonable. Lack of security, made me anxious, sensitive, controlling desire bursting. While Julian showered, I secretly checked his phone. Discovered. He was very angry. “Layla, are you sick? Are you idle panic? Don’t you have your own things to do?” Fatal three questions. Back then was him coaxed me quit job come LA, said just like me sticking to him, want raise me whole life. After that day, I took out all savings opened this flower shop. Come every day, wind rain not stop. Let myself busy. Then no time to tangle, Julian want kiss who today, intimate scene can shoot to what scale, will have physiological reaction, what if he really can’t get out of character fall in love with others… Chapter 4 Already passed rush hour. Way home, subway empty. Two girls sat next to me, staring at phone, face hanging aunt smile. “Bet or not, Julian and Tara definitely moved heart outside drama too, this kind subconscious approach body movement can’t fool people.” “Doesn’t Julian have girlfriend?” “Think about it, one side is girlfriend dated seven years, old pearl yellow no freshness, other side is fresh beautiful glamorous female star, if you are Julian, who you like?” I silently took out small mirror, looked at myself. I was at least prom queen back then. Not to point of old pearl yellow right. Actually Julian publicizing relationship was forced by me. At beginning, he said didn’t hope bring too much personal life to screen to discuss. So that insiders didn’t know he had girlfriend. There were chasing him, introducing objects to him. Even wanting unspoken rules him. I therefore threw a big temper, “Do you exactly think unnecessary, or think I can’t be shown, don’t want give up your single persona?” Julian scolded me unreasonable. But still announced my existence on Twitter: [Happy 7th Anniversary, Girlfriend @Layla] Late night, #JulianAnnounceRelationship and #JulianTara simultaneously on trending. Because their CP fans wrote a explosive post overnight—— [You are my madness wandering outside secular order.] Summarized all ambiguous interactions of two cooperating till now. In post, they two like hard fate mandarin ducks love but can’t get, and I am the bully blocking their two-way rush. They said Julian only because responsibility, didn’t choose break up with me such mediocre girlfriend. Tara online late night. Like, cancel, post saying hand slipped. All in one go. Even specially @me: [Sister-in-law don’t mind, another day beautiful date meal together @Layla] As if very familiar with me. But I simply don’t know her. Julian advised me don’t overthink, “Tara very simple little girl, she just afraid you awkward.” I subconsciously asked: “She simple, then me?” “You?” Julian hooked lip corner, “Alright Layla, compare what with young little girl.” His tone carried doting. Clearly Tara only two years younger than me.

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On the way to inspect our new house, a heavily made-up woman suddenly rushed out and blocked our car. She kicked the hood fiercely, angrily demanding me to get out. I was about to call 911, but my husband hurriedly opened the car door, took off his jacket and draped it over her: “Sweetheart, it’s windy here, why did you run out wearing so little?” I wanted to get out and ask what was going on, but my husband blocked the door tightly: “Don’t come down! You’ll scare her, she’s timid!” The woman nestled in his arms, pointing at my nose and screaming: “You old hag! Julian promised this house to me, what right do you have to dictate!” “If you know what’s good for you, get out quickly, Julian’s money and love have long been mine!” Hearing this, I laughed. His money? What an interesting mistress, then let’s play a high-stakes game! Chapter 1 Julian patted her back to smooth her breath, while turning his head to say to me: “Valerie, you drive the car away first, I’ll go back and explain to you later.” I sat in the passenger seat, looking at the man who once vowed to love me forever, now carefully protecting the mistress in his arms. My heart felt like it was tightly gripped by a big hand, painful enough to make me breathless. Back then, to give birth to his child, I had a difficult labor and massive hemorrhage, damaged nerves, and was paralyzed abroad for treatment for full three years. The moment I could finally stand up, I chose to return immediately. But I didn’t expect, not long after returning, Julian actually gave me such a big gift. I didn’t drive away, instead pushed open the car door. Julian didn’t expect me to come down, stunned for a moment. Seeing me come down, that woman not only didn’t hide, but broke free from Julian’s arms, raised her chin and walked up to me. Looking closely, I found she was actually very young, face full of collagen, just eyes full of greed. “What are you looking at? Paralyzed for three years and still not dead, really tough life.” She looked me up and down, a mocking smile on her lips, “Don’t look at yourself now, although you can walk, I can smell that medicine scent from two meters away. Julian has to act with you every day, I feel tired for him.” I raised my hand and gave a slap. “Smack”, crisp and melodious. The world instantly quieted down. Julian was stunned, the woman was also stunned. “You… you dare hit me?” The woman covered her face, staring wide-eyed in disbelief. “Hitting you is what I do.” I shook my hand, tone calm, “Mouth not clean, I had to educate you for your parents.” “Ah! Julian! She hit me! Look at her!” The woman instantly collapsed, screaming and pouncing into Julian’s arms, that posture as if she suffered a huge grievance. Julian was heartbroken, hugged her, turned his head and glared at me angrily. “Valerie! Are you crazy? Serena is just a child! How can you hit people?” “Child?” I laughed in anger, “A child who can climb onto someone else’s husband’s bed? Julian Hale, your taste is quite unique.” The woman screamed wanting to come over and hit me, Julian looked at me with a mocking face. Sighed, bent down and picked the woman up horizontally. “She is not calm now, I’ll take her away first, explain specific details to you later!” Finished, he held the woman named Serena, strode to stop a taxi, and left without looking back. Leaving me alone on the road, next to the car with a smashed hood. People around were already watching, taking photos, pointing fingers. I took a deep breath, suppressing the sourness in my eyes. Just then, the phone rang. I glanced at the strange number, answered. “Hello, old hag.” The woman’s triumphant laughter came from the other end, “See? Julian cares about me.” “If you know what’s good for you, obediently become invisible, don’t disturb us. Otherwise, I have plenty of ways to make your life worse than death!” I was lazy to listen to her screaming, hung up directly. Then called a tow truck, sent the car to the dealership, then took a taxi back to the Hale family mansion. In-laws were sitting in the living room watching TV, seeing me back, no expression on their faces. “Dad, Mom.” I called out. Mother-in-law didn’t even lift her eyelids: “Back? Julian? Not with you?” “He went to accompany Serena.” I said straightforwardly. Air in the living room instantly solidified. Father-in-law put down the newspaper in hand, mother-in-law also finally turned to look at me. No surprise on their faces, only indifference. “Oh, that girl.” Mother-in-law lightly flicked her fingernails, “Julian mentioned to us, quite a lively child.” My heart instantly cooled halfway. Turns out, whole family knew, only me kept in the dark like a fool. “Mom, Julian cheated, you guys knew long ago?” I asked. Mother-in-law frowned, seemed dissatisfied with my wording: “What cheating not cheating, said so ugly. Men, acting on occasion outside is normal. Besides, you treated illness abroad for three years, Julian holding this family alone how hard, having someone knowing cold knowing hot beside him what’s wrong?” “As long as he doesn’t bring her home, doesn’t shake your position as the main wife, you just turn a blind eye. Our two families are allied by marriage, interest is the first priority.” Father-in-law also chimed in: “Yes, Valerie. You have to be generous, don’t make the family restless because of this small matter.” Generous? Small matter? I looked at these two cold faces, suddenly felt incredibly disgusting. I didn’t even want to say one more word. “Understood.” I turned and left. Since you talk interest with me, then we talk interest. I sent a message to Carter: “Carter, help me check all asset transfer situations under Julian Hale’s name, and the background of that woman named Serena beside him. As fast as possible.” Carter was the lawyer my mother trusted most before she passed away, and the only person in this world I can fully trust. Chapter 2 Ten o’clock at night, Julian finally came back. He pushed open the bedroom door, saw me sitting by the bed, stunned for a moment, then walked over, sat on the sofa opposite me. Depressive atmosphere spread in the room. He lowered his head, rubbing his face with both hands, a look of guilty conscience. “Valerie, sorry.” This was his first sentence after entering the door. I looked at him, mind flashed back to when I was 18, he confessed to me on the playground. He was so clean, so sincere then. Current him, makes me feel strange. “Sorry for what?” I asked. “I’m sorry to you.” His voice hoarse, “These three years, I was really tired. Serena she… she gave me a different feeling. She is not as strong as you, she relies on me, makes me feel like a man.” I strong? I almost laughed out loud. For his career, I gave up opportunities for further study, willing to be the woman behind him. Even to give him children, I almost lost my life. Finally, in his eyes became strong. “So, this is your reason for cheating?” Julian raised his head, eyes red: “I had no choice. I don’t want to hurt you, nor hurt Serena. I love both of you, I can’t give up either.” “I thought about it, later I will double good to you, make up for your three years of bitterness. Serena said she doesn’t want status, just wants to stay by my side. I will try hard to balance your relationship, absolutely won’t let you suffer grievance.” Listen, what touching words. Want to enjoy the blessing of having both? Dream on! “Julian Hale, let’s divorce.” I spoke calmly, “Since you can’t give up, then I fulfill you guys.” Julian stood up abruptly, face full of shock: “Divorce? Impossible! I absolutely won’t divorce!” “I married you, will be responsible for you for a lifetime! Besides you were paralyzed for three years because giving birth to my child, if I divorce you, people will poke my spine and scold me to death!” “Also, cooperation between our two families is in critical period, divorcing at this time, stocks will hit limit down! Can you be sensible?” I looked at his exasperated look, only felt ironic. Turns out not divorcing not because of love, is because afraid of being scolded, afraid of stock falling. “Then what do you want? Really plan red flag not fall at home, colorful flags fluttering outside?” “As long as you don’t make trouble, we can live very well!” Julian urgently wanted to convince me, “Serena is very simple, she won’t threaten your status. You just treat her as non-existent…” Just then, his phone rang. Julian glanced at the screen, face changed instantly. He didn’t even greet me, answered phone while walking out: “Hello, baby? What’s wrong? Nightmare? Don’t fear don’t fear, I come immediately…” Door closed with a “Bang”. Room only left me alone. I walked to the window, watching Julian’s car speeding away downstairs. For that woman, he can abandon me anytime anywhere. Very good. Julian Hale, since you are unkind, don’t blame me for being unjust. This divorce, I am determined. But before that, I want you and that “simple” Serena, pay the price. Chapter 3 Next morning early, I went to Hale Group. Although I haven’t been to the company for three years, I still own 20% shares of Hale Group, member of the board. Seeing me appear, front desk girl jumped scared, quickly called CEO office. I ignored those inquiring gazes, went directly to finance department. First thing I want to do, is check accounts. However, finance director hemmed and hawed, told me without Mr. Hale’s signature, no one can check accounts. Expected. Julian guards against me like guarding against a thief. I didn’t force it, turned and went to nearby luxury mall. Since can’t check company accounts, then spend his money first. I picked a newly listed emerald necklace in jewelry store, priced $290,000. If before, I would think too expensive, reluctant to buy. But now, I think too cheap. “Wrap it up.” I handed out a Black Card. This was five years ago on our wedding anniversary, Julian gave me, said unlimited supplementary card. Sales girl smiled ear to ear, took card with both hands to swipe. Few seconds later, smile on sales girl’s face froze. “This… this lady, sorry, your card declined.” “What?” I stunned. “Shows insufficient balance.” Sales girl carefully handed card back. Insufficient balance? Unlimited card how can insufficient balance? Only explanation is, main card limit set, or directly stopped supplementary card usage right. Julian! You actually stopped my card! Just when I holding card in daze, behind came sound of high heels clicking on marble. “Yo, isn’t this Mrs. Hale? What, can’t afford?” Serena carrying a Hermès walked over. She wore Haute Couture today, full body jewelry, even hair strands revealed exquisiteness. In comparison, me wearing old style trench coat, indeed appeared shabby. “Little Chen ah, wrap up this necklace, and those few rings, bracelets over there, all for me.” Serena didn’t even look at price, casually pointed few things. Sales girl saw big client coming, immediately left me aside, ran over eagerly: “Miss Serena, you really have taste! These are all new arrivals! Total $588,000.” Serena didn’t blink, took out a black card from bag handed over. Exactly same as mine. “Swipe it.” She proudly raised chin, provocatively looked at me, “Where man’s money is, heart is there. Some people holding waste card still want pretend rich wife, really laughing to death.” I sneered, backhand took out phone, dialed 911. “Hello, police? I want to report a crime. Someone stole my husband’s card stealing money, huge amount, about few millions.” “Address is Star Moon Mall first floor jewelry store. That thief still on scene, please come immediately.” Finished, I hung up, looked at Serena coldly. Serena stunned, then burst into sharp laughter. “Call police? You actually call police catch me?” “Mrs. Hale, are you sick in brain? This card Julian gave me! Spending my man’s money is justified! Police come can do what to me?” “Instead you, false report police is going to jail!” She not afraid at all, even more arrogant. She took out phone call Julian: “Hubby! Your that old hag crazy! She call police catch me! Say I steal your card!” “You come quickly! I want you personally slap her face rotten! If don’t see you in twenty minutes, ignore you forever!” Police came very fast. Two officers walked in, face serious: “Who called police?” “Me.” I stepped forward, “Officer, is this woman, stole my husband’s card.” Serena still picking earrings there, seeing police came, not only not afraid, instead rolled eyes: “Officer, don’t listen to this crazy woman nonsense. This card my boyfriend gave me.” Officer looked at me: “What relationship you two?” I took out phone, pulled out electronic marriage certificate: “I am Julian Hale’s legal wife. Owner of this card is Julian Hale. I never agreed let this woman use our couple joint property.” Officers looked at each other, expression became complex. “This lady, please show ID, follow us to station investigate.” Officer said to Serena. “I not go! Based on what catch me!” Serena slapped card on counter, “Wait my boyfriend come you will know! He will call your chief!” Voice just fell, Julian panted rushing in. Entering door, he didn’t even look at me, directly rushed to Serena, protected her behind. “Serena, you okay right? They didn’t do anything to you right?” Serena saw backer came, confidence fuller. “Julian! You finally came! This bitch brought police catch me! Say I steal your card! Also want send me to jail! You hurry slap her for me!” Julian heard, instantly furious. He turned around, fiercely glared at me: “Valerie! Have you messed enough! I said I will handle this, you insist make thing big right? Don’t you feel shameful?” “Shameful?” I sneered, “Julian Hale, who exactly is shameful? You use couple joint property raise mistress, also stopped my supplementary card let her swipe millions, you still want face?” Eating melon crowd around more and more, pointing fingers. Julian probably felt losing face, lowered voice roared: “What couple joint property! That is money I earned! I want give who spend give who! You shut up for me!” He turned to police smile apologetic: “Officer, misunderstanding, all misunderstanding. This card indeed I gave my girlfriend use, not theft. This is family dispute, we solve ourselves fine.” “Girlfriend?” Officer frowned looking at him, “This lady says you are legal couple.” Julian face stiff, awkwardly coughed: “Processing divorce, processing.” “Not divorced is couple.” Officer straight face, “Since card owner himself said gave voluntarily, then not constitute theft. But, this sir, since not divorced yet, large amount property gift indeed involves couple joint property issue, suggest you go legal procedure.” Serena hearing this instantly drilled out from behind Julian, rushed over want slap my face. “Dead bitch! Dare call police catch me! I let you call! I let you call!” I long prepared, sideways dodged, backhand a slap returned. But I forgot, Julian still beside. My hand just waved out, caught dead tight by Julian. His strength big, pinched my wrist painful. “Valerie! You still want hit people? Who gave you courage!” He fiercely pushed, I wearing high heels stood unstable, directly hit glass counter behind. Lower back severe pain, I muffled hum. Serena seeing this, took chance rush up, long nails directly scratch my face. “I scratch your face flower! Let you seduce men!” Hiss—— Face burning pain. Julian not only didn’t stop, instead pressed me on counter, let Serena vent anger. “Serena, vented anger? Don’t hurt hand.” That moment, last trace expectation in my heart, completely disappeared. Police hurried up pull fight. “Doing what! Fight in front of police! All take back!”

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One week before Ethan’s “one that got away,” Chloe, was set to marry someone else, she came crying to him. She didn’t want to go through with the wedding. Not only did Ethan plan to help her run away on her big day, but he also expected me to be the stand-in bride to cover their tracks. I refused. I demanded an explanation for this insanity. Ethan, usually so gentle, looked at me with rage I’d never seen before. “Hazel, how can you just watch Chloe marry a man she doesn’t love? Do you have no heart?” Later, to vent his anger for Chloe, he kicked me down the stairs. My knee was shattered. I could never dance again. That was the moment my heart finally died. I stopped trapping myself in the name of love. I never expected Ethan to come crawling back. He looked miserable, begging me on his knees: “Hazel, please… save me. I was wrong. I really know I was wrong.” Chapter 1 When I got back from the theater, it was drizzling outside. The moment I walked in, I saw Ethan sitting on the sofa with Chloe. She was sobbing, clinging to his arm. “Ethan, what do I do? I can’t marry Brad. I don’t love him at all! Take me away on the wedding day, please?” She looked at Ethan like he was her only savior. Ethan sat up straight, his jaw tense. After a long silence, he said, “Okay.” “I object!” I walked over, staring coldly at Chloe. Chloe suddenly dropped to her knees in front of me. She begged: “Hazel, I know you hate me because Ethan and I have a history. But you can’t push me into a fire pit!” Seeing her on her knees, Ethan’s gentle mask cracked. He glared at me. “Hazel, how can you be so cruel? Watching Chloe marry a man she hates? Do you have no heart?” He tenderly helped Chloe up from the floor. Chloe gave him a desperate look. “It’s okay, Ethan. Maybe this is just my fate.” She turned to leave, looking like a broken doll. Ethan stood up to chase her. I grabbed his arm. Before I could explain, he shoved me away. Hard. “Hazel, enough! How can you be so vicious?” He grabbed his keys and drove off to chase Chloe without looking back. After he left, I limped to the first aid kit to treat my knee. Ethan used to love me so much. A papercut would make him panic and rush to bandage me. But today, he threw me to the ground. The table edge gouged my knee, and he didn’t even blink. His heart was full of his precious Chloe. I waited until late at night. Ethan didn’t come home. Instead, I received a photo from Chloe. They were in a hotel room, tangled in sheets. I didn’t sleep a wink. Chapter 2 Ethan came back the next morning. He brought my favorite Banana Pudding from Magnolia Bakery. He acted like nothing happened, laying out the desserts one by one, pushing them toward me like he was waiting for a reward. I looked at the pudding and spoke softly. “Ethan, I’m allergic to bananas. I hate anything banana flavored.” He clicked his tongue, his gentleness evaporating. “Eat it or don’t! I drove all the way to get this. I didn’t do it to hear you complain!” His voice was full of irritation. I didn’t smile and thank him like I usually did. I stood up and went to the kitchen to make myself a bowl of oatmeal. He was annoyed at my defiance. But since he was in the wrong for staying out all night, he swallowed his anger. “Sorry about yesterday. Is your knee okay?” When I nodded, he let out a sigh of relief. Seeing the gauze on my knee, he muttered: “You dancers are so dramatic. It’s just a bump. Do you really need all that bandage?” He didn’t care. I looked him in the eye and said calmly: “Ethan, I love ballet just as much as you love running your company. I never belittled your passion. Why do you belittle mine?” He touched his nose guiltily and changed the subject. “Forget it. Are you free tonight? I’m taking you to meet my friends.” Chapter 3 It was raining lightly in the evening. Ethan took me to a private room at an upscale club. His friends started hooting when I walked in. “Yo, Ethan! Is this the ballerina sister-in-law?” Several pairs of eyes scanned me with ill intentions. Ethan led me further inside. Sitting in the center of the room was Chloe. She stared at Ethan without saying a word. “Hazel, let me toast to you! I hope you and Ethan live happily ever after!” Chloe suddenly stood up, staring right at me. Her eyes were brimming with tears. Ethan looked at her with heartbreak written all over his face. I didn’t move. Everyone in the room was watching me. Ethan felt embarrassed. He frowned and whispered aggressively: “Hazel, don’t embarrass me in front of my friends.” I looked at Ethan quietly. He forgot I was allergic to alcohol. When we first started dating, he found out and held me tight. He promised he would never let me touch a drop of alcohol as long as he was around. Now, the knight had become the dragon. “Ethan, did you forget? I’m allergic to alcohol.” I said softly. My voice wasn’t loud, but it silenced the room. Ethan’s friends tried to smooth things over. “Sorry, Hazel. Our bad. Just drink juice instead.” Someone handed me a glass of orange juice. Chloe looked at me with wide, innocent eyes. “Hazel, do you look down on me? Is that why you won’t drink with me?” Ethan frowned deeply. He snatched the juice from my hand and replaced it with wine. “Hazel, stop being dramatic. Since when are you allergic to alcohol?” His voice was unhappy. He shoved the glass in my face. “Hazel, are you drinking or not? If you don’t, we’re done.” He was threatening me with a breakup. Chloe pretended to stop him. “Ethan, don’t force Hazel. Maybe she was raised too delicately and isn’t used to drinking.” I refused to drink. My parents taught me one thing growing up: I can do what I want, and I can refuse what makes me uncomfortable. If the sky falls, they will hold it up for me. Ethan’s eyes flashed with anger at my refusal. He grabbed my jaw, forcing my mouth open, and poured the wine down my throat. I choked, coughing violently. Ethan looked at me with a smug smirk. “Stop acting! See? Nothing happened!” Chloe let out a soft laugh. But soon, they wouldn’t be laughing. Chapter 4 My vision started to go black. My throat closed up. Ethan didn’t care. He thought I was acting. “Hazel, that’s enough! Stop the drama! You’re overdoing it!” Chloe fanned the flames. “Yeah, Hazel. You’re so good at acting, you should be in movies, not ballet.” My face turned pale. Thud. I collapsed on the floor. Someone finally realized something was wrong and checked my pulse. Their hands shaking, they called 911. When I woke up, Ethan was staring at me, his face pale. Seeing me awake, he looked guilty. “How do you feel? You okay?” I shook my head. Seeing I was alive, Chloe let out a sigh of relief. “Scared me to death. I thought something bad actually happened!” Ethan looked at me with annoyance now that the danger had passed. Chloe changed the subject. “Hazel, I’m getting married in two weeks. You have to keep my secret, okay? Don’t tell anyone I’m planning to run away!” Seeing my blank expression, Ethan smiled at Chloe. “Don’t worry. In my house, what I say goes. Hazel wouldn’t dare disobey.” After Chloe left, Ethan fed me the chicken soup he made. “Hazel, try this. I simmered it for hours.” He was overly attentive. For the few days I was in the hospital, he took perfect care of me. It made me wonder if the alcohol incident was just a hallucination. The day I was discharged, Ethan took me home. He prepared a lavish candlelight dinner. After eating, I passed out on the table. Before I lost consciousness completely… I heard Ethan sigh in relief. He called Chloe, sounding like he wanted praise. “Chloe, I handled Hazel. Come over and take her to Brad’s room.” I was taken to a strange room. Inside, waiting for me, was Chloe’s fiancé, Brad.

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As a female protagonist from a steamy romance novel, I did my duty and spent a passionate night with the male lead until dawn. But when the System came online, it was dumbfounded: [Host, what the hell are you doing?! This is a wholesome redemption romance novel! The two of you are supposed to stay pure until marriage!] While the male lead was fast asleep, the System panicked and wiped all his memories of me. Only then did I realize that a system error had transported me to the wrong world. And the real female protagonist of this redemption story was already standing outside the door of his dingy apartment. The next second, my wrist was seized. Ethan, whose memory had been forcibly erased, opened his eyes and stared at me coldly: “Who are you?” 1 I froze, completely at a loss for words. The System was screaming in my head: [I told you to leave ages ago! Now look, the male lead is awake. How are you going to explain this?!] I felt a little wronged and whispered back: “It’s not my fault. You sent me here. I thought Ethan was my target.” The System’s voice pitched higher: [So you just slept with him?! Hello! This is a crazy, germaphobe male lead. In the early stages, if a girl even touches his finger, he scrubs his skin raw!] [Do you think everyone sleeps around like in your trashy romance novels? Now the male lead isn’t pure anymore. What is the heroine supposed to do?] I opened my mouth to argue, but the knocking on the door grew more urgent. “Ethan? Are you home?” A gentle female voice called out. It was Sarah. The original heroine of this world line, Ethan’s destined partner. Ethan frowned, his grip on my wrist loosening slightly. “Sarah…” He muttered the name, his expression growing more painful. He seemed to be trying hard to remember something, yet resisting it at the same time. After a moment, his expression slowly calmed. A hint of unconscious tenderness crossed his brow. “Wait a second, I’m getting dressed.” He raised his voice to shout through the door. Sarah’s crisp laughter rang out: “It’s okay, I brought you breakfast. Hurry up and get ready, didn’t we agree to go sketching together?” “Sketching…?” Ethan rubbed his temples, a flicker of confusion in his eyes. He looked at the scattered sketch paper and paints on the floor. On the easel stood an unfinished painting. A woman in a white dress lay on the grass, chin in her hand, reading a book. But the woman’s face was blank, yet to be painted. Ethan lowered his eyes, staring at the painting for a while. Suddenly, he turned his head to size me up. Then he spat out cold words: “Take it off.” 2 I blinked, confused. “Take… take what off?” Ethan pursed his lips, pointing displeasedly at the dress I was wearing. This was the gift he gave me after our date yesterday. He worked at a convenience store for $13 an hour; I didn’t know how long he had to save for it. The System shrieked again: [Take it off quickly, Host! That dress is the token of love between the leads. The male lead cherishes it!] In the original plotline, the heroine was like a lively little sun, approaching the male lead and warming his heart. Ethan, however, remained lukewarm. Out of politeness, he gave the heroine a white dress as a birthday gift. It wasn’t until he went sketching in the wild with the heroine. Ethan set up his easel to paint the scenery. The heroine, in the white dress, danced nearby. Ethan, while painting, inadvertently glanced over, and in that moment, fell in love forever. From then on, the heroine’s unrequited crush became a mutual romance. Therefore, this white dress was crucial to both of them. With the System urging me on one side and Ethan’s cold, unfamiliar gaze on the other, I was panicked to death. I scrambled to take off the dress. But as I turned, I realized the hem of the dress had been stained with a large patch of paint at some point. It looked hideous. My brain buzzed. It’s over! 3 The System was about to faint from anger: [You, you, you… I’ve never had such a terrible host! Do you know how important this dress is to the male lead? Later, this dress gets stolen by the villain, and when he becomes famous, he spends a fortune buying it back at an auction! The heroine cherished it like crazy! And now you’ve ruined it?] “I… I’m sorry.” I bowed cowardly to Ethan. “I’ll pay for it.” But he held my hand down. “…Forget it. No need.” Ethan frowned. “It’s just a piece of clothing. It’s not important.” Sarah knocked again. “Are you done yet? The bagels I brought are getting cold!” Ethan took a deep breath and spoke to the door: “Sorry, Sarah. I just twisted my ankle. I can’t go sketching.” Sarah sounded worried immediately: “Huh? Is it serious? Do you need me to take you to the hospital?” “Open the door, let me see!” Ethan lied without blinking: “…No need. I haven’t washed my face yet. Sorry to make you come all this way for nothing.” “Alright then. I left breakfast at the door, remember to eat it! I’m going back now!” The sound of footsteps faded away. My tense shoulders finally relaxed slightly. Ethan threw one of his jackets at me: “Put this on and get out.” 4 I held Ethan’s jacket; it still smelled of cheap laundry detergent. Ethan stared at me, then sneered coldly. “Without a jacket, how did you plan to go back? With a neck full of hickeys? Afraid people won’t know you just slept with a guy?” I looked at him, feeling so unfamiliar. So… this was the real Ethan. Indifferent to the point of cruelty. 5 Honestly, my life was pretty tough. I’ve been a “tasker” for so long, always stuck in these trashy romance novels. The Systems didn’t want to work with me because I was slow and not very bright. I couldn’t handle any plot that required high-level strategy. So all I got were physical, mindless plots. The System said I didn’t need to use my brain for these, just lie back and enjoy. When I got this redemption script, I was truly happy. I read the script over and over again, perfectly executing every key event. Ethan’s affection for me soared. I couldn’t help but start fantasizing. Could someone mediocre like me… also be qualified to redeem someone else, to be their ray of light? Until the climax of the novel. The leads have a conflict, and the heroine decides to fake her death to escape. As for the night before the fake death, the script didn’t specify, so I guessed it was free play. So, as an experienced trashy romance tasker, I drugged the male lead’s water and entangled with him all night. That was when the System finally arrived, late as always. It said it made a mistake. It sent me to the wrong world. The heroine of the redemption story wasn’t me, but Sarah. Finally, when it learned I had slept with the male lead, it almost exploded with rage and scolded me severely. When Ethan opened the door, Sarah was already far away. The breakfast she left was still steaming at the door. I looked at the white steam, feeling a bit dazed. So, this is how redemption stories work. The leads only have a gentle first night in an ocean-view room full of roses after falling in love over time and dating seriously. But last night, in this shabby rental apartment. I casually consummated with Ethan. It was his first time; he was clumsy and shy, and it hurt a lot. But Ethan was incredibly emotional. With tears in his eyes, he choked out that he would be good to me for the rest of his life. I was moved to a mess. It was the first time I met such a serious target. I wanted to stay in this world forever. But who would have thought it was all a mistake. To force the plot forward, the System forcibly erased Ethan’s memory. All my efforts were wasted. He forgot me completely.

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I was a top lawyer with an undefeated record. One day, I woke up inside a novel. The System tasked me with defending a pop star who was also a serial killer, telling me to find his “redeeming qualities” and get his sentence reduced. Instead, when I saw the defendant taunting the victims’ families in the courtroom, I flipped on him mid-trial and submitted the key piece of evidence that had been overlooked. Before the judge’s gavel could even fall, his brainwashed fan club was still outside, screaming about their idol’s innocence. If they wanted to be with him so badly, fine by me. I reported the fan club for illegal fundraising and sent them all off to do hard time. Seeing that I was about to take down everyone else involved, the System shrieked and threw me into a “pampered villainess” novel. 【This time, you’re the older sister of the pampered villainess! Blood is thicker than water, so you can’t possibly turn on your own family!】 【Warning! You are forbidden from using legal means to send the villain to prison!】 The moment the System finished its rant, I turned around to schedule my pampered little sister for a prefrontal lobotomy. If I can’t send her to jail, she can spend the rest of her life locked up as a mental patient. As long as she’s not a danger to society, a slightly dumbed-down sister could be kind of cute! 01 I stood outside the private observation room, looking through the one-way glass at Melody, who was strapped to a bed, writhing. She was screaming, her cries muffled by the rubber guard in her mouth to prevent her from biting her tongue. The doctor stood beside me, holding a surgical consent form. “Ms. Hayes, are you absolutely certain about the prefrontal lobotomy? This procedure is irreversible…” I adjusted my glasses. “Doctor, my sister has suffered her whole life from being too intelligent. It makes her want to hurt people.” “As her sister, I can’t just stand by and watch her walk down a path of crime.” “Just a small incision, and she can become a carefree little angel.” “She’ll stay with us, sweet and obedient, forever. Isn’t that the greatest form of love we can give her?” A burst of static screeched in my head. 【Paige! Are you a monster?!】 【In the original story, Melody frames you, gets you canceled by the entire internet, and you die a miserable death on the street!】 【Your mission is to reform her with love and guide her onto the right path, not turn her into a vegetable!】 I calmly capped my pen and replied in my mind. 【System, you need to think bigger.】 【Melody is a villain because she has the high IQ necessary for complex crimes.】 【I’m solving the problem at its root. A physical rehabilitation is still a rehabilitation.】 【Besides, I haven’t killed her, and I haven’t sent her to prison. In fact, I’m spending a fortune to get her medical treatment. Am I not the most responsible sister in the world?】 My warped logic seemed to short-circuit the System for a full two seconds. 【But… but the rest of the Hayes family is on their way!】 【The eldest, Harrison, is a ruthless CEO. The second, Morgan, is a genius surgeon. The third, Wyatt, is a pop superstar. And don’t forget your parents, who treat you like dirt.】 【If they find out you sent their precious treasure for a lobotomy, they will tear you to pieces!】 As if on cue, a frantic clicking of high heels and an enraged shout echoed from the end of the hallway. “Paige! What do you think you’re doing?!” I turned to see a whole entourage storming toward me. At the head of the pack was my mother, the foundation on her face unable to conceal her twisted fury. Close behind were my oldest brother, Harrison, in a bespoke suit, and my second brother, Morgan, who had clearly rushed over in his white lab coat. My mother charged at me, her hand raised to strike. “You vicious creature! Let Melody go this instant!” I didn’t flinch from the incoming slap. But just as her hand was about to connect with my face, I whipped a thick copy of the Penal Code out of my briefcase. Her palm smacked hard against the leather-bound cover, and she let out a pained shriek. I smiled faintly and tucked the book back under my arm. “Assaulting a lawyer may not be a felony, but I will be suing you for battery and seeking damages for emotional distress.” “Melody’s stay here is quite expensive. Your settlement should cover her medical bills nicely.” Harrison stepped forward to support our mother, who was hissing in pain. His eyes were dark and menacing. “Paige, have you lost your mind?” “Melody can be a bit impulsive, that’s all. How could you have her committed?” “Tell the doctors to stop the procedure immediately, or I’ll make sure you’re disbarred and never work in this city again!” I looked at this domineering CEO, whose brain was filled with nothing but mergers and acquisitions, and shook my head in disappointment. “Harrison, how can you say that about our sister?” “She isn’t impulsive. She’s sick.” I pulled a stack of printed chat logs and surveillance photos from my bag and tossed them at his chest. “Last month, she put herbicide in my milk, said she was ‘helping me pull weeds.’” “Last week, she cut your brake lines, claiming she wanted to ‘test the car’s safety features.’” “And yesterday, she boiled all of Morgan’s lab mice into a soup, saying she wanted to ‘help him build up his strength.’” I let out a sigh, my eyes misting over as I summoned my best performance. “Harrison, would a normal person do these things? This is a clear case of severe antisocial personality disorder!” “If I don’t get her treated now, it’ll be too late when she decides to boil one of us for dinner.” 02 Harrison’s face shifted as he looked at the evidence. They all knew about these incidents. But every time, Melody would just cry and act cute, and they would dismiss it as their “sweet, innocent sister” being playful. Morgan picked up the papers from the floor, his brow furrowed. “Even so, a lobotomy is out of the question! It’s an inhumane procedure!” “I’m a doctor. I have the right to take over my patient’s course of treatment.” With that, Morgan tried to push past me into the room. I took a sharp step to the side, blocking the door. “Morgan, this is a psychiatric hospital, not your operating room.” “I am one of Melody’s legal guardians, and I have the right to decide her treatment plan.” “Furthermore…” I pushed my glasses up, the lenses catching the light. “According to the Mental Health Act, when a patient poses a severe danger to others, their guardian has the right to enforce involuntary commitment.” “I have already secured a court order for compulsory medical treatment. Right now, the law is on my side.” “If you try to force your way in, I’ll sue you for disrupting medical order and report you to the medical board for practicing outside your specialty.” Morgan froze. He hadn’t expected this. The meek, people-pleasing Paige he knew was gone. In her place stood this sharp-tongued, immovable woman. He was so taken aback by my sudden authority that he didn’t dare move. But he was, after all, the “brains” of this world’s cast. He recovered quickly. “Guardian? Mom and Dad are right here. What makes you think you’re her guardian?” Our father, who had been standing silently in the back, finally spoke, his voice heavy with authority. “Paige, you don’t run this family.” “I am Melody’s father, and I am ordering you to stop this farce immediately.” “Otherwise, I will publicly disown you and take back everything you have.” The original Paige would have collapsed into a puddle of tears, begging for forgiveness. She was desperate for their affection. But I’m not her. I’m a legal machine, devoid of sentiment. I looked at my father with mock surprise. “Dad, are you feeling alright?” “Disown me? You can’t legally sever ties with a biological child in this country.” “That’s a statement born of legal ignorance. I suggest you pick up a book sometime.” My father’s mustache trembled with rage. “You… you insolent girl!” “And as for taking back everything I have?” I glanced around at my well-dressed, morally bankrupt family and let out a small laugh. “The apartment I live in? I bought it with my own mortgage.” “My car? It’s provided by the firm.” “The clothes on my back? I bought them with money I earned.” “You haven’t given me a single cent since I turned eighteen.” “You said it was to ‘build my independence,’ then you turned around and bought Melody a fifty-million-dollar yacht.” “So, tell me, Mr. Hayes, what exactly are you going to take back? My non-existent fatherly love?” “If it’s that, I suggest you just throw it in the trash. It’s filthy.” My words hit him like a volley of cannonballs. He clutched his chest, his face turning ashen as he swayed on his feet. Harrison rushed to support him, pointing a finger at me. “Paige! Are you trying to kill him?! Have you no conscience?!” “My conscience is alive and well. It’s your brains that might need a little surgery alongside Melody’s.” I glanced at my watch. “The procedure should have started by now. The anesthetic has been administered.” “Since you’re all here, why don’t you have a seat and witness Melody’s rebirth?” Just then, the door to the room flew open. A young nurse ran out, her face pale with panic. “We have a problem! The patient… she broke free from the restraints!” 03 I frowned. Those were medical-grade restraints for psychiatric patients. Unless Melody had the strength of an ox or was a trained contortionist, breaking free should have been impossible. A second later, I saw her. Melody, brandishing a scalpel, burst out of the room. She was in a patient gown, her hair a wild mess, her eyes filled with raw, murderous intent. “Paige! I’m going to kill you!” she shrieked, charging straight for me. The System screamed in my head: 【Host, watch out! It’s the villain’s plot armor! She gets a power boost in desperate situations!】 My family, however, didn’t look scared at all. They looked relieved. “Melody! Come to Mommy!” my mother cried. “It’s okay, Melody, your brother’s here!” Harrison added. In their eyes, she was just a frightened girl seeking their protection. But Melody ignored them completely. She genuinely wanted to kill me. Faced with the gleaming scalpel, I didn’t back down. I held my ground, even subtly adjusting my stance to be perfectly framed by the security camera. “Melody, put the scalpel down. It’s dangerous.” “I know you hate me for bringing you here, but I’m doing this for your own good.” “Go to hell, you bitch!” she roared, thrusting the scalpel at my throat. When the tip of the blade was just inches from my skin, I moved. No fancy combat skills. Just a precise sidestep and a well-placed foot. Melody’s own momentum sent her flying, and she landed face-first on the hard tile floor. The scalpel flew from her hand and, by a stroke of perfect misfortune, embedded itself in Harrison’s expensive leather shoe. “Aaaah!” Two screams echoed at once. One was Melody’s. She had likely broken her nose and her face was a bloody mess. The other was Harrison’s. The scalpel had pierced the leather and sunk deep into his foot. The scene erupted into chaos. I calmly brushed off my slacks and addressed the stunned doctors and security guards. “You all saw that.” “The patient is extremely aggressive and has even assaulted someone with a weapon.” “If that scalpel had hit me, I’d be a corpse right now.” “This constitutes severe violent tendencies, falling under Article 30 of the Mental Health Act, and requires the highest level of compulsory restraint.” I pointed to Melody, who was still twitching on the floor, then to Harrison, who was bleeding profusely. “See? She even stabbed her own brother. This is a very serious case.” “Doctor, perhaps the initial lobotomy plan was too conservative.” “I recommend we add electroconvulsive therapy to the treatment.” “If we can’t cut out the problem, maybe we can shock it out. It might dry up some of the water in her brain.” Morgan, who was trying to stop Harrison’s bleeding, snapped his head up. For the first time, there was real fear in his eyes. “Paige, are you the devil?” I smiled down at him, my eyes behind my glasses as cold as ice. “No, Morgan.” “I’m a lawyer. And I specialize in putting people back in their place.”

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I accompanied Gavin from a law firm intern to a top lawyer in the industry, but his principles were always more important than me. Even when my parents’ inheritance was stolen by the imposter heiress with forged evidence, Gavin refused to defend me with a cold face. “You are a relative of the client. Taking the case would be a professional stain.” I slammed the door and left with red eyes, defending myself in court until my voice was hoarse. But on the day of the verdict, the imposter Serena suddenly won with a new will. That paper was stamped with Gavin’s private seal. He personally notarized it for my enemy. I trembled to check the case file for appeal, but he submitted my “Psychiatric Evaluation Report” to the judge. The day I was forcibly sent to the mental institution, my parents’ urns were smashed by Serena in public. Gavin stood on the steps adjusting his tie, saying to reporters: “Finally justice for my client.” I watched the man I loved for so many years in the video, shedding tears silently. Turns out lawyers aren’t without selfishness, I just wasn’t worthy. Chapter 1 I stared blankly at the white ceiling of the hospital when Gavin rushed in, dusty, worry hiding in his eyes. After confirming I was fine, he exhaled a long breath, his tone carrying a bit of blame: “Scarlett, what exactly do you want? Do you know how many cases I have to deal with every day?” “Why can’t you be obedient like Serena—” His words stopped abruptly when meeting my gaze. “Serena isn’t like you, she has nothing left. She came to beg me, I can’t ignore her.” “Scarlett, I was wrong about this. I will use my whole life to make it up to you.” “Besides, giving the family assets to Serena was Grandpa’s wish…” “Scarlett,” his voice was hoarse, like he pulled an all-nighter, “Stop making a scene.” I sneered, pulling the wound at the corner of my mouth, the smell of blood spreading in my mouth. “Making a scene?” I stared at the ceiling, “Attorney Gavin, you think I’m making a scene?” He walked a few steps closer, carrying the scent of Gardenia that Serena used. It made my stomach churn, sneezing repeatedly. He reached out to touch my face but froze just before touching. I turned my head to avoid, eyes cold as ice. Gavin’s Adam’s apple rolled, finally whispering: “…The law only recognizes evidence.” This sentence again. But on the day the verdict came out, I went to find him unwillingly and heard his conversation with Serena outside his office. “Gavin, you forged Grandpa’s will and gave everything to me. Will sister blame you?” Gavin sighed, tone tired: “I let her down. I will make it up to her for the rest of my life.” I grabbed the water glass on the bedside table and threw it. The glass exploded at his feet, shards flying. He didn’t even dodge, just looked at me quietly, eyes full of emotions I couldn’t read. “Get out.” I gritted my teeth, “Or I’ll tear open the gauze now and let the nurse see how a top lawyer drives his wife to death.” He finally turned and left, pausing for a second at the door: “…Take your medicine. I’ll handle the hospital matters. I’ll take you home when you recover.” Chapter 2 Serena came the next day. She stepped in high heels, carrying a limited edition Hermès bag, red lips curved in a victor’s arc. “Sister looks good.” She leaned over, fingertips lifting my chin, “Gavin pushed his date with me last night for you.” I sneered: “What, afraid I die too slow, came to speed it up yourself?” Her face suddenly changed, clutching her stomach and falling onto the chair, face pale: “It hurts… Sister, why… why did you push me…” Before I could react, the ward door was banged open. Gavin rushed in, picking up Serena, scanning me with sharp eyes: “What did you do to her?!” I was stunned, then laughed out loud: “Gavin, are you blind? I can’t even pull out the needle lying in bed, how could I push her?!” But he just gave me a cold look, holding Serena and leaving quickly. At dusk, Gavin returned alone. He sat by my bed, fingertips gently rubbing the gauze on my wrist, voice so low it was almost inaudible: “…Does it hurt?” I turned my head away, nails digging deep into my palm. He sighed, taking a box of strawberries from his briefcase. My favorite fruit. He used to buy them to coax me every time I was in a bad mood. He placed it carefully on the bedside table and tucked me in. “Tonight is Serena’s birthday party. As her only legal family, you must attend, or the media will write nonsense.” He handed me a document, “Sign this. Give up the right to appeal for the inheritance.” I almost laughed in anger: “Why?” Just then, there was a knock on the door. “Miss Scarlett, your grandmother fell this morning and is now in the ICU. We haven’t been able to reach the family.” The hospital corridor smelled of pungent disinfectant. Grandma lay in the ICU, tubes all over her body. I stood in front of the payment window, fingers trembling holding the payment notice. The nurse repeated mechanically: “The system shows insufficient balance on your card.” I opened my mouth but found I couldn’t even squeeze out a hoarse defense. My accounts had long been frozen due to Serena’s victory. “Use mine.” Gavin handed over his Black Card, whispering in my ear, “Serena’s birthday party, you know what to do.” I looked at Grandma’s thin body in the ICU, shivering: “My grandmother needs surgery immediately.” He gently wiped the tears from my cheek, “I promise you, as long as you cooperate with tonight’s banquet, I will arrange the best experts for Grandma immediately.” Chapter 3 I was forcibly taken to the banquet. Serena in a red dress, smiling brightly. “Why does sister look so pale?” She hugged me with fake concern, hand pressing hard on my wound. Blood seeped through the gauze. I hissed in pain and took a step back. Serena apologized in panic. “Sorry sister, I know you always hated me, but today is my birthday. I just wanted to hug you. Please don’t hate me.” Then “accidentally” knocked over red wine. Dark red liquid spilled on me, soaking the gauze. I shivered in pain. Gavin arrived but just frowned, taking out a handkerchief to wipe Serena’s hands. “She didn’t mean it.” He said lightly, gaze not staying on me for a second. I didn’t want to watch their affection, turned to leave, but was held by Gavin, rooted to the spot. “Don’t make a scene.” His lips moved slightly, voice only audible to me, “Your grandmother just had heart surgery. If the medical team withdraws suddenly…” I trembled all over, staring at him deadly. Serena held Gavin’s arm triumphantly. “Gavin, I envied sister playing the violin most when I was little. Today is my birthday, ask sister to play for me, okay~” She smiled sweetly. Gavin nodded lightly. After one song, my wrist was numb with pain. Serena leaned on Gavin, looking at me smilingly. “Sister, play another one?” The bow pressed on the strings, pulling the wrist wound. Blood seeped under the gauze, dyeing the chin rest red. I pursed my lips, knuckles stiff. But the music couldn’t stop because Gavin sat below, fingers holding that Black Card, scanning indifferently. He allowed all this. “How about ‘Caprice No. 24’?” Serena tilted her head, smiling innocently and cruelly, “I remember sister performed it at school, it was beautiful.” That piece demands harsh requirements on the wrist. I looked up at Gavin. He was looking down at his phone, screen light reflecting on his cold side profile, as if he didn’t hear Serena at all. I knew he heard. He just didn’t care. I took a deep breath, lifting the bow. The moment the first note fell, tearing pain came from my wrist. I could almost feel the sticky sensation of the wound opening. But I didn’t dare stop, because Serena was resting her chin on her hand, smilingly counting the beat, and Gavin… Gavin finally looked up. His gaze landed on my bleeding gauze, paused for a second, then, He raised his glass and took a sip. “Oops, the pitch is off.” Serena frowned in fake surprise, “Does sister’s hand hurt?” Chuckles came from the audience. My fingertips trembled, cold sweat sliding down my back, but the music had to continue. Serena suddenly stood up, leaning over, red lips almost touching my ear. “You know what? Gavin said in my bed last night, the way you play the violin… is pathetic and laughable.” The bow slipped from my fingers, ear-piercing noise cutting through the banquet hall. Silence. Gavin finally moved. He put down the glass, stood up slowly, and walked towards me. I looked at him, throat tight, thinking he was finally going to stop this humiliation. But he just reached out, repositioning the bow for me, fingertips brushing my wound seemingly unintentionally, voice so low only I could hear: “Continue.” “Or your grandmother will be moved out of ICU tomorrow.” Chapter 4 I didn’t sleep for three days taking care of critical Grandma. Clothes wrinkled on my body, hair greasy. I crumpled the payment slip again and again, but Grandma’s medical fee was still not enough. I have to go home. At least shower, change clothes, then find a way to borrow money. The moment I pushed the door open, sweet perfume choked my throat tight. A silk nightgown not belonging to me was thrown on the sofa. Serena’s favorite lipstick was on the coffee table. My slippers were gone, replaced by a pair of brand new high-heeled slippers with rhinestones. “Back?” Gavin came out of the study, shirt sleeves rolled up to elbows, carrying the scent of Gardenia perfume Serena used. I opened my mouth, but sneezed first—I’m allergic to Gardenia, he knows. “You let Serena move in?” He frowned: “The old house is being renovated, she’s borrowing it for a few days.” Paused, then added, “What are you jealous about? We are innocent.” I stared at him, suddenly wanting to laugh. Innocent? Can innocent people sleep in the same bed? Gavin loosened his tie impatiently, taking out his phone, tone icy: “Must you make a scene now? The hospital just messaged, Grandma’s pathology report is out.” My heart sank. He knew I cared about Grandma’s condition most right now, but used this to shut me up. This is his usual tactic—using my most cared-for weakness to silence me. “Sister is back?” Serena came out of the kitchen, wearing my apron, holding a bowl of steaming meat soup. “I made soup, good for the body, try some?” Meat aroma drifted over. My stomach cramped suddenly. Haven’t eaten well for three days, gastritis flared up. But next second, I saw that familiar leash with brown spots by the wall. “Where is Snowy?” Serena blinked: “Ah, you mean that dog that always barked?” She scooped a spoonful of soup, smiling, “Right here.” My brain buzzed. Snowy was the birthday gift Gavin gave me, a small mutt that loved tilting its head to look at people. It liked sleeping on my slippers, running around with my socks. But now, it became a bowl of soup. I don’t remember how I pounced. Only remember Serena’s scream, the thud of the bowl hitting the floor, and the feeling of my nails sinking into her arm. “Are you crazy!” Gavin pulled me away, force so great I stumbled into the coffee table. Waist hit the corner hard, pain making me gasp, but he didn’t even look at me, going straight to check Serena’s arm. “Gavin! It hurts…” Serena’s tears came instantly, showing him the nonexistent “wound”. Gavin frowned tight, fingertips brushing her arm that wasn’t even red, voice gentle as hell: “I’ll take you to apply medicine.” He bent down to pick her up, like holding some fragile treasure. When turning, his gaze finally fell on me. I clutched my waist, blood seeping through fingers. His eyes flickered, seeming to want to say something. “Gavin!” Serena hugged his neck tight, “I’m dizzy…” He immediately withdrew his gaze, striding towards the guest room. When the door closed, I slid to the floor, palm pressing on that puddle of steaming meat soup. Stomach churned. I lay on the floor retching, but only spat out acid water. Chapter 5 I dragged the suitcase from under the bed, simply packing a few clothes. Lit the first photo on the balcony. Flames jumped up, swallowing the photo of Gavin and me on law school graduation day. He held my waist, I held the Best Debater trophy, smiling eyes curved into crescents. Gavin rushed over to grab the lighter: “Are you crazy?!” I slapped him on the face. Gavin’s pupils shrank violently. I didn’t give him a chance to explain. In front of him, I threw all photos, couple shirts, the watch he gave me… all into the fire basin. Flames distorted the air, and his pale face. Finally, I put the divorce agreement on the table. “Sign it.” Air solidified for a few seconds. Gavin stared at that document, eyes changing from initial blankness to sharpness, finally sneering. “You serious?” I didn’t answer, just pushed the pen towards him. He stared at me, eyes cooling inch by inch, suddenly grabbing the agreement, paper making harsh friction noise in his fingers. “Because I helped Serena? Because she lives here? Or because of that dog?” His voice sank lower, finally squeezed out through teeth. “You want a divorce for these?” I looked at him quietly. Looking at this man who once blocked alcohol for me, stayed up late for me, waited three hours in snow for me, now showing this expression for another woman. “Not ‘for these’.” I said softly, “I’m tired, Gavin.” His pupils contracted sharply, as if pierced by something. He grabbed my wrist violently, force almost crushing bones: “Scarlett, you are mine, I forbid you to leave me!” I stared at his face and suddenly laughed. “Gavin, stop pretending deep affection, I’m disgusted.” His pupils shrank violently, hands trembling slightly. “Scarlett, if you dare leave me, I’ll have someone throw your grandmother out of the hospital right now!!” Just then, my phone rang. It was the hospital. “Miss Scarlett, we are very sorry…” The doctor’s voice sounded like through frosted glass, blurry and distant. “Your grandmother… just passed away.” The world suddenly quieted. Gavin’s questioning, car horns outside, even my own breathing, all disappeared. Only that sentence remained, like a dull knife, scraping my nerves one by one. …Passed away? But she held my hand saying she wanted to go home with me when I came back from the hospital. I looked down at my hand, finding it trembling. Strangely, I didn’t cry. Gavin seemed to sense something wrong, frowning closer: “Who called?” I looked up slowly, looking into his eyes, whispering: “Grandma is gone.” His expression froze instantly, blood draining from his face. “Impossible…” He grabbed my shoulder violently, “I clearly renewed the medical fee! I just yesterday—” I pushed him away, stumbling downstairs. His panicked footsteps came from behind: “Scarlett! I didn’t do this! Listen to me…”

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After my sugar daddy died, I had trouble sleeping alone. One night, I was getting ready to watch some “adult content,” but when I connected my Bluetooth, there was no sound in my earbuds. Just as I was about to switch videos, my stepson knocked on my door, holding his headphones. Oh crap. Wrong Bluetooth connection. The next second, he pinned me against the wall, blushing but intense. “You’re watching videos because you want to try it, right?” “Why not try me…?” Chapter 1 “My dad is dead. Before he died, he named you his sole heir.” “So, you inherit everything of his. Including—me.” “I am also a part of his estate.” “He told me specifically to obey you.” “If you have needs now, of course, I must satisfy you.” When Liam said this, his warm breath sprayed on my ear. My face flushed, and I felt instantly awkward. William Sterling really won’t let me have peace even in death, leaving me such a mess. As the “stepmother” who is about to fight him for the inheritance, Liam naturally wouldn’t give me a good face. See, waiting for my embarrassment to humiliate me to the extreme. I tried to explain to him, “Liam, I’ll move out in a few days. Don’t worry, I’m not interested in what your father left behind.” “What belongs to you is yours. I won’t take a penny.” After all, during the years of our arrangement, William gave me a million dollars a month. Now I am worth tens of millions. Even if I splurge every day, it’s enough for a life of luxury and comfort. Although I love money, I cherish my life more. Of course, I wouldn’t be stupid enough to fight Liam for those things. As the only son of the Sterling family, how could Liam tolerate an outsider inheriting his father’s legacy? Not knowing where the punchline of my words was, the usually cold Liam suddenly smiled and said: “Little Mom, there are more important things to do now.” “What?” “What are you doing?” Liam suddenly picked me up princess-style and walked to the bed. Before I could react, he pressed me under him. “Of course, helping you solve your physiological needs.” “You are so thirsty you need videos to relieve yourself. As a son, I should share my mother’s worries.” Liam began to unbutton his shirt. Broad shoulders, narrow waist, eight-pack abs, biceps, V-line… Is this something I can watch? “Little Mom, wipe your drool.” Liam’s words pulled me back to reality. Watching him undo his belt, I grabbed his hand in panic: “Wait, wait!” In my panic, my hand actually landed on his pants. Liam smiled ambiguously, “Are—you—sure?” Feeling that place starting to perk up, I quickly withdrew my hand. Young boys are full of vitality, getting hard just by a touch. But looking at his posture, he might really want to sleep with me. Does he think sleeping with me will naturally make those things his? Actually, I wanted to say, Bro, you don’t need to make it so complicated. I really don’t care about your family’s stuff. From beginning to end, I knew my identity clearly. How could I be stupid enough to fight him for inheritance? Afraid he would really do something, I quickly explained: “Liam, I am your stepmother. Technically, I am your elder. This is not okay.” “Don’t worry, I am really not interested in the old man’s will. In a few days, no! Tomorrow! I will move out tomorrow, absolutely won’t hinder you!” “Really! I promise!” I raised my hand to swear, expressing my determination. My guess was spot on. After I said I wouldn’t fight for the inheritance, Liam’s face softened a lot. He picked up his shirt, put it on, and left my room. Watching the door close, I ran over and locked it. What a pity! Almost lost my virtue. Chapter 2 I packed my bags overnight. In the two years at the Sterling estate, most of my things were bought by William, bearing the mark of the family. I certainly wouldn’t be stupid enough to take these things away, fearing Liam would come after me. So in the end, the only thing I could take away was that debit card. But I wasn’t panicked at all. The money in the card was enough for a lifetime. Early the next morning, while Liam was still asleep, I tiptoed out of the Sterling manor. But before I even got down the hill, Liam chased after me. Screech. The car stopped right in front of me. Liam got out and walked towards me, his expression extremely ugly. His voice was icy cold, “Jade, where do you think you’re going? Come back with me.” I didn’t understand what he meant. I left so tactfully, why was he still haunting me? “Liam, what exactly do you want?” He was very insistent, “You can’t go.” “Why?” I was puzzled. Liam looked at me calmly, but his gaze was mixed with emotions unfamiliar to me. Finally, he spoke softly, “Jade, I like you.” I froze. “Do you really not know?” “Why leave? Stay here, be with me, isn’t that good?” His expression changed unpredictably, sad one moment, happy the next, like a madman. Before I could react, he hugged me and stuffed me into the car. Standing in the familiar room again, I couldn’t help but smile. Back again. Liam brought breakfast to the room. He held me tightly in his arms. He picked up a piece of toast to my lips, chuckling lightly: “Jade, be good, eat.” It was a normal tone, but I felt a chill down my spine. Just like when I first met Liam. Chapter 3 I was nineteen when William started our arrangement. That year, my mom got cancer. Chemo cost thousands each time. My dad died early. Mom and I depended on each other. Her health was weak, she couldn’t earn much. Supporting me until college was already her limit. To treat her, I dropped out and worked at a club. But for an introvert like me, making money was too hard. Other colleagues got thousands in tips for a drink. But I was force-fed alcohol for being ungrateful. That was when I met William. “Why make it hard for a little girl? Are you men?” “What? Never drank before?” Seeing it was him, the crowd lost their arrogance instantly, standing aside meekly. That night, William said to me: “I know your situation. I have a way for you to make a large sum of money in a short time.” “What way?” I asked urgently. To me at that time, money was too important. William took a drag of his cigar and said calmly: “Be my sugar baby. I can give you a million a month for living expenses.” A million. Enough for my mom’s chemo a thousand times over. The temptation was too great. The girl taught to be good since childhood did something against her beliefs for the first time. “I agree.” I was asked to change into a red dress. William stared at me in a trance, muttering: “So alike.” Later I learned, I looked 80% like William’s late wife. That night, William took me to the estate. He held me and slept all night. Nothing else happened. The next day at the breakfast table, I met Liam. He was handsome, standing out anywhere. But his aura was strangely indescribable, like melancholy, or gloom. William introduced me to him: “This is your new mother.” Liam nodded and greeted me: “Mother.” His tone was respectful, faultless, but his eyes were full of scrutiny. I knew the word “Sugar Baby,” once attached to a woman, brings contempt and disdain. But I couldn’t care less. When I got the first payment, counting the long string of zeros, I cried out loud in excitement. Chapter 4 Strangely, William didn’t ask much of me. Just to dress like his late wife and stay by his side. One stormy night, I went to deliver coffee to William. Walking to the study door, I heard the sound of a whip, William’s cursing, and intermittent groans. He was beating Liam again. Staying with William for a long time, I learned a bit about him. William had a “White Moonlight”—his late wife. They were deeply in love. But William was ruthless in business and offended many people. Enemies sought revenge. On the day they returned from vacation, the car lost control and crashed severely. William was saved, but his wife and the unborn baby died. It was said to be a daughter. For a long time after, William changed his ways, becoming gentle and gentlemanly. A few years later, his secretary drugged him and climbed into his bed. She disappeared for a year, then returned with baby Liam, demanding a status. William’s principle of remaining faithful to his late wife was tainted. He almost killed her in anger. Later, the Old Master Sterling found out, gave the woman money, and demanded Liam stay. Liam stayed in the Sterling family, and the woman took the money and disappeared. His existence constantly reminded William of that mistake. William vented all his anger on Liam. He beat and scolded Liam frequently. If Liam did anything slightly wrong, he whipped him without a word. The study door opened. I was startled and snapped back to reality. Liam glanced at me with a pale face and left without a word. His back was red with blood, dripping down his shirt, leaving traces on the floor. Driven by some unknown psychology, I knocked on Liam’s door that night. “What?” Liam asked coldly. I handed him the medicine. “Treat your wounds, or they’ll get infected.” Every time after punishing him, William ordered the servants not to give him medicine. Often, Liam appeared at the breakfast table with a flushed face. Unsurprisingly, a fever. Liam didn’t take it, looking at me with disdain. “You giving me medicine? Aren’t you afraid my dad will know? Or is this… poison he sent?” I laughed angrily. “Fine, don’t take it.” I turned to leave. Suddenly heard him sneer behind me. “Thought you had no temper.” In the estate, I did whatever William said without complaint. After all, I knew my place too well. Fight William? Unless I was crazy. Over time, everyone in the estate thought I had a good temper, though they dared not say it to my face. Hearing Liam say it so bluntly, I just felt awkward. The next morning, while eating breakfast, Liam suddenly said “Thank you” to me.

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1 The day Silas Blackwood pulled me from Keelhaul Bay’s grimy fighting pit, I was in a thin top, laughing wildly. In my last life, I knew he had the wrong woman—Seraphina—but I seized the chance to escape. He swept me away, treating me like a treasure in his gilded cage. That ended when the real Seraphina’s death certificate arrived. I became the focus of all his hatred. “You lied. Because of you, Sera died out there. I’ll make you suffer everything she did, tenfold.” He threw me into a cellar of his own making, inventing new torments each night: blades testing my flesh, bone-deep cold, degrading treatment from his men. He watched coldly, only calling a doctor to keep me alive. Even the child I carried ten months, he tore away without hesitation. As steel sliced me open, he covered Seraphina’s eyes with tenderness. In my final moment, I threw myself onto the surgeon’s blade. When I opened my eyes again, I was back—beaten half to death, just as Silas rushed in. “Sera… is that you?” His hand, warm and gentle, brushed against my brow, but a chilling dread shot down my spine. I scrambled backward, away from his touch, and raked my nails across my forehead, desperate to destroy the very feature he recognized. “No! You’ve got the wrong person!” Blood and tears streamed down my face, my fingernails caked with grime and skin. But he cupped my face in his hands, his touch impossibly careful, and lifted me into his arms. “It’s okay, Sera, don’t be scared,” he murmured to his men. “We’re leaving this place. It doesn’t matter if you’ve lost your memory. I’ll get you the best doctors.” My body went rigid, a violent tremor shaking my entire frame. My mind went blank, a deafening roar filling my ears. The next time I woke up, I was in Blackwood Manor. The room, identical to the one from my last life, sent a jolt of pure terror through me. Ignoring the cast on my leg, I tumbled out of bed and crawled to the window. It wasn’t until I saw the endless, rolling hills stretching out to the horizon that a choked sob finally broke from my throat, and I shattered. Martha, the housekeeper, rushed in. Last time, she had been the one who cared for me so meticulously. “Miss? What’s wrong?” I grabbed her arm, my grip frantic. “I’m not Seraphina! Please, you have to tell him! You have to…” But her expression was calm, placid. She gently helped me back into bed, tucking the blankets around me. “Mr. Blackwood said you might be like this, Miss. He said you have amnesia. It’s normal to be confused.” Her voice was soothing, but it felt like a cage closing around me. “You are the one he was looking for. There’s no mistake. Just rest and let us take care of you.” But I wasn’t confused. I didn’t have amnesia. I curled into a ball, whispering the words over and over again like a prayer. “I’m not her… I’m really not.” In the days that followed, Silas was a constant presence. He’d shed his sharp suits for soft casual wear, his face fixed in a look of doting affection. But when I looked into his eyes, I saw the same obsessive monster from my past life. He pushed me out into the gardens in a wheelchair. “Look, Sera. I planted these roses for you. They were always your favorite.” He placed a single, perfect rose in my hand. “Do you remember? You cried and begged me to give you one just like this.” A tremor ran through me. I snatched my hand back and threw the rose, the flower striking him across the cheek and leaving a thin, bloody scratch. Martha gasped and dropped to her knees. “Sir! I… I’ll get the doctor right away…” “No need.” Silas waved her off, casually wiping the bead of blood away. “It was my fault. I forgot to remove the thorns. I must have pricked her.” He bent down, picked up the rose, and patiently began snapping the thorns off one by one. Watching his focused profile, a cold dread settled deep in my bones. In my last life, after he learned the truth, he forced me to kneel in this very rose garden. “Use your blood to dye them red,” he had sneered. “The color Seraphina loved most.” The feeling of thorns embedding themselves in my skin was a phantom pain I could never forget. I shivered. Desperate, I tried a new tactic, showing him the scars on my body that were mine alone, marks Seraphina never had. “Mr. Blackwood, look. I’m really not her.” But he only traced the faded lines with a pained expression. “You’ve just forgotten. Anyone would be changed after escaping a place like that.” His touch was the spark that lit the fuse. A decade of torture flashed before my eyes. A scream ripped from my throat and I broke, scrambling to flee, only for his men to grab me and inject me with a sedative. “Sleep, Sera,” he whispered, his brow furrowed in concern as the world went dark. “Just sleep, and everything will be okay.” I didn’t understand. This time, I had denied it from the very beginning. Why was he still so convinced, so utterly obsessed? I began to push him, testing his limits, determined to make him see the truth. He took me to a gala; I feigned a mad fit and humiliated him in front of everyone. His assistant paled, ready to drag me away, but Silas just tightened his grip on my hand, keeping me anchored to his side. He hired a private chef; I refused to eat. He never forced me, simply leaving the food outside my door. When hunger finally drove me to sneak out in the dead of night, I found the meal was still perfectly warm. He brewed bitter medicine for me with his own hands, practically begging me to take a sip. I smiled, then deliberately knocked the bowl from his hands, scalding his chest and arms. As I braced for the blow I knew was coming, he simply turned and began picking up the porcelain shards. “It’s alright, Sera. It was probably too bitter. I’ll go make another batch.” A sharp edge cut his finger. The bright red blood stood out, stark against the white porcelain. A strange pang of sorrow twisted in my chest. Silas was even gentler than he had been in our first life. But I couldn’t let myself be fooled. His gentleness now was a terrifying omen. I couldn’t begin to imagine the hell that would await me when the news of the real Seraphina’s death finally reached him. A month later, I learned Silas was away on business. That night, under the cloak of darkness, I made my escape, heading for the small, dense wood on the southern edge of the estate. There was a hidden exit there. In my last life, Silas used to throw me into that forest to fight for my life against wild animals. As I would lie broken and bleeding, crying for mercy, he would stand over me, his shoe pressing on my shattered limbs. “Do you think Seraphina was any less helpless in the Triangle?” he’d ask. I spent six months in that forest, teetering on the edge of sanity, before I stumbled upon that hidden gate. I thought I was finally free. But they dragged me back. I can still feel the memory of Silas’s fingers closing around my throat, his voice a low growl. “You will never escape me.” The memory made my legs tremble, but I forced myself to keep moving. I didn’t stop until my crutch caught on a loose stone, sending me sprawling. The sudden, absolute silence was terrifying. My blood ran cold. Instinct took over and I started clawing my way toward the nearest tree, but it was too late. A tiger’s roar ripped through the air, so close I could smell the rot of its last meal on its breath. I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the tearing of claws and teeth. But the pain never came. When I opened my eyes, Silas was standing in front of me, his left shoulder clamped firmly in the tiger’s jaws. He didn’t even glance at the wound. His eyes, intense and searching, were locked on me. “How did you know about this path?” I froze, the world narrowing to his question. Tears, hot and real, welled up and streamed down my face. I collapsed into a heap of sobs. “I was trying to find you,” I wailed, letting my body tremble as if from sheer terror. “I don’t know how I ended up here…” His grip on my arm slowly loosened. “I’m being paranoid,” he murmured, his voice dropping low. “How could a cripple possibly know the most dangerous and hidden path on the estate?” He shielded me with his body, lifting me into his arms and carrying me all the way back to the manor. There was no escape. So, I decided to play the part. If he wanted me to be Seraphina, then fine. He’d find out the truth eventually, one way or another. I had done everything I could. I started eating again. I stopped fighting him. Whatever he thought his Seraphina should do, I did it. But this Silas was different from the last. He didn’t force me to learn the piano or play chess. Instead, he was always asking me what I wanted. Who was I? Was I his Seraphina, or was I myself? I stopped resisting his kindness, but I never once smiled at him. I spent my days on the balcony, my gaze lost on a distant patch of sky. The staff grew accustomed to my silence. Only Martha would sigh sometimes, saying I was like a beautiful doll that had lost its soul. One afternoon, we were playing chess. I stared at my white piece, trapped and surrounded by his black ones, and a single tear rolled down my cheek. “Silas.” He looked up, startled by my sudden emotion, and quickly came to my side. “Sera, what is it? Tell me.” “I’m really not Seraphina,” I said, my voice hollow. “You’re going to regret this.” He stared at me for a long moment. “You just have amnesia, Sera. It’s okay.” I knew he would say that. A bitter smile touched my lips. “I want to go to the San Varcas Triangle. I want to save the people trapped there, the people who are just like I was.” The hand he was using to place a piece on the board paused. I looked at the black stone in his fingers and thought of the Seraphina who had died there in my last life. Her body, mangled beyond recognition in the news photos. When the coroner’s report landed in Silas’s hands, he had looked at me as if he wanted to skin me alive. If, in this life, I could rescue her first… maybe he wouldn’t hate me so much. He finally spoke, his voice quiet but firm. “Okay.” I went there. He took me straight to the most secluded cellar in the compound. The room was dim, but I could make out the grotesque shape of a heavyset man, his face a roadmap of scars, grunting and thrusting on the bed. My heart leaped into my throat and a scream tore from my lips before I could stop it. “Stop! Get off her!” Like a woman possessed, I swung my crutch, bringing it down hard on the man’s head. He crumpled to the floor, unconscious and bleeding. On the bed, a young woman stared back at me, her eyes wide with shock. It was Seraphina. Her body was a canvas of bruises, a ring of circular cigarette burns scarring the skin around her waist. But her limbs were intact. She wasn’t the broken wreck from the photographs. I had made it in time. Seraphina’s gaze shifted past me to the man standing in the doorway, and a light ignited in her eyes. “Si… Silas?” I lowered my head and stepped aside, leaving the two of them to their reunion. But as I turned to leave, his hand shot out and clamped around my wrist. “Where are you going?” I looked at him, confused. His expression was as cool and distant as ever. This wasn’t the emotional reunion I had pictured. I expected his eyes to well with tears, for him to rush to her side, to break down. He did none of those things. “I… I won’t disturb you…” He didn’t answer. The pressure on my wrist just tightened. “We’re going home.” He led me out, not once looking back. On the plane, Silas kept his eyes closed, but the deep furrow in his brow told me he was awake. I whispered, my voice barely audible, “Silas, I’ve given Seraphina back to you…” He remained silent, the line between his brows deepening. When we returned to the manor, Martha was there to greet us. She stopped short when she saw Seraphina, her eyes flicking between the two of us. “Miss…?” “There are two of them now,” Silas said flatly. He gestured to Seraphina. “Prepare a guest room for her.” Then he pointed at me, his tone leaving no room for argument. “She stays in her old room.” Martha nodded and led a bewildered Seraphina away. Silas’s expression was dark, unreadable. I sat silently in my wheelchair, bracing for the storm I knew was coming. Instead, his voice came out quiet, measured. “You knew the real Seraphina was in the Triangle all along, didn’t you?” He knelt before me, tilting my chin up so I was forced to meet his gaze. His eyes were sharp, analytical, searching for something. “My people searched for six months and couldn’t find a single trace of her. How did you find her the moment you arrived?” My breath hitched. I opened my mouth, but no explanation came. He leaned closer, his warm breath ghosting across my cheek. “Aria… are you… reborn, too?”

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The annual company gala had just wrapped, and to celebrate our department clinching the top sales spot, my manager, Cynthia Ruth, insisted on treating us to a late-night dinner at a fancy seafood spot. It wasn’t until I slipped away to the restroom that she made her move, orchestrating a mass walk-out, leaving me holding the bag. When the restaurant manager, a man named Robert, slid the check across the polished table, my mind went blank. The tab was $12,800 for the meal. Add in the five bottles of Dom Pérignon and the rare Macallan 18-year-old they’d packed up to take home, and the total soared to $29,800. Two hours earlier, my annual bonus—the biggest in the department—had hit my account: a crisp $30,000. Now, seventeen people had vanished, and the bill was exactly $29,800. I snapped a picture of the bill and sent it to the department group chat, demanding they split the cost. Cynthia’s reply was instantaneous and venomous. “We gave up our best leads to make sure you hit your targets, Serena. You walked away with the department’s biggest bonus. What’s a single dinner compared to that?” she typed. “It’s not like we spent all thirty thousand. We left you two hundred, didn’t we?” “Grow up, Serena. Think about your reputation. You don’t want to be the one who embarrasses herself over a check.” The other seventeen people in the chat immediately chimed in, echoing her outrage, calling me cheap, unprofessional, and ungrateful. This wasn’t Cynthia’s first rodeo. It was a well-worn tactic. That’s why I hadn’t touched a single dish during the meal. They were too busy taking advantage of me. What they didn’t know was that my parents were quiet but powerful players in the restaurant investment world. This seafood restaurant? It was one of their minority stakes. I didn’t argue in the chat. Instead, I called Robert, the manager, over. “Please pull the security footage,” I told him. “Forward the photos of all seventeen of them to the three hundred-plus private hospitality groups my family invests in across the city.” “Notify every one of our affiliated businesses: these seventeen individuals dined and ditched. Blacklist them immediately. They are no longer welcome in any restaurant in this city.” They wanted to play a game of workplace bullying? I’d happily turn this celebration dinner into their department farewell meal. … I posted the bill in the chat, requesting they Venmo me their share. A moment later, Cynthia’s reply popped up. [Venmo? Serena, are you kidding me?] [We covered your late nights; did you offer to split your paycheck? I handed you high-value clients; did you offer to split your commission? Your bonus is three times what others got. We ask you to cover one meal, and you demand we chip in? Seriously?] Her message instantly ignited the previously silent group. [@SerenaWells, Cynthia is right! Seriously, girl, a thirty-thousand-dollar bonus! You have to drag everyone in here for this passive-aggressive split? So low-class!] [LOL, and we were just praising you, thinking you were so grateful to the boss that you pretended to go to the bathroom to secretly pay the bill. Turns out you were just running away. You’re pathetic!] I watched their frantic attempts at moral high-grounding and felt only a cold, sharp amusement. I had just reviewed the surveillance footage. I’d watched them gleefully point at the most expensive items, calculating exactly how to spend my $30,000 down to the last cent. I skipped the back-and-forth and dropped a direct Group Payment Request into the chat. [Cynthia explicitly stated before the dinner that she would be hosting personally, which is why the expense was not submitted to Finance as a team building event.] [The meal comes out to $1655 per person. Since Cynthia reneged on her offer, it is only fair that everyone pays their own share.] The group chat went dead quiet. A minute later, my phone exploded with notifications. Cynthia was blowing up my private messages with a barrage of voicemails. “Serena, what the hell is wrong with you?! I talked you up to the partners to make sure you got that thirty grand! You can’t spring for one dinner? What is your problem?” “You’re trying to tear this department apart over pocket change! I think you have an agenda!” I let out a single, humorless laugh. It was the first time I’d ever heard workplace psychological manipulation packaged so virtuously. I didn’t reply. I used my phone to record the full surveillance video, saving it to the cloud and a secondary backup drive. Then, I turned back to the manager. “Mr. Robert, please print the official itemized receipt and the formal invoice for me.” I sent the invoice to the group chat, then typed my final line. [You have twenty-four hours to settle your debt. Otherwise, I will be forwarding this matter to the Corporate Legal department.] It was a notification. It was also a sentence. Seeing that I wouldn’t fold, Cynthia chose silence. The chat went dark again. Robert looked at me. “Ms. Wells, should I call the police now?” I shook my head. “Not yet.” “First, blur the faces in those photos of them fleeing, and send them to all three hundred of our restaurant groups. I’ll get you the full names and company details in a minute. Let every business know: these seventeen people are on the blacklist for deliberate dining and ditching. No establishment with our investment will ever serve them again.” This was too far past her first attempt to let it go. Last month, she’d somehow found out I’d received a $5,000 commission. That very lunchtime, my DMs were flooded with Starbucks payment links. “Serena, you got a five-grand commission. You have to treat us to Starbucks!” I was due to be transferred to an overseas assignment after the New Year and, wanting to maintain a professional atmosphere, I reluctantly agRuth. But I was stunned when they managed to rack up a $2,000 bill on lattes and pastries that typically cost forty bucks each. Just then, Robert confirmed the notice had been distributed across the merchant network. I looked at the group chat, where I saw a uniform string of “Read” receipts. I curled my lip into a small, cold smile. Around 2:00 AM, I caught an Uber home. On the ride, I saw a new post on Cynthia’s private Instagram. It was a photo from a karaoke room, with all seventeen department members smiling maniacally in the background. Her caption read: “I finally ran into the backstabbing type. For an ungrateful parasite like that, if I don’t bleed her dry, my name isn’t Ruth!” She hadn’t named me, but the comments below were a frenzy of thinly veiled insults directed my way. I watched, ice in my veins, and took a screenshot just before she managed to delete the post. The next morning, I showed up at the office as usual. After the events of last night, the entire office was a black hole of isolation. By 9 AM, the main floor was completely empty. I sat at my desk, slowly finishing my coffee. Only after I put the cup down did Cynthia storm over. She slammed a folder onto my desk. “Serena Wells, a thousand-dollar fine for unexcused absence from the meeting! Your performance review for this month is unsatisfactory!” I laughed, a sharp sound that echoed in the quiet space. “I was never notified of a meeting. You can’t fine me. A communication failure is the manager’s responsibility, not the employee’s.” Cynthia crossed her arms, a cold smirk playing on her lips. “Seventeen people knew about the meeting, and you didn’t? You’re going to argue that wasn’t deliberate?” I ignored her bluster and lowered my head to start my work. She scoffed and walked away. A little later, she began assigning new projects. I volunteered several times, but she acted like I was invisible. Finally, she shoved a doomed project, one no one else dared to touch, onto my plate. She commanded me to complete it, or she’d strip my commission for the month. It wasn’t over. After lunch, the company was handing out holiday gifts. She called everyone to the conference room early to collect theirs. Everyone received three boxes of premium Rainier cherries. When it was my turn, all that was left was a single box of sad-looking satsuma oranges. I quietly moved the oranges to my desk, ignoring the collective snickering and looks of schadenfreude. I opened my laptop and compiled a detailed document outlining Cynthia’s unjustified fine, the withholding of company resources, and the patterns of departmental exclusion. I sent it directly to the corporate ethics and reporting email at headquarters. That afternoon, I kept my appointment with a client. It was Mr. Harold from the Runda Group, a high-value account the company had courted for years without success. When he heard I was treating him to dinner at the most exclusive, Michelin-level restaurant in the city—one that required a six-month reservation lead time—he took my call. That restaurant was also part of my family’s portfolio. I had a customized menu prepared based on his personal preferences. We were nearing the final handshake on the deal after our third glass of wine. I stepped into the restroom to refresh my makeup when my assistant, Taylor, called, her voice frantic. “Serena! We have a problem! Check the company intranet right now!” The company forum had exploded. An anonymous post, accompanied by several poorly framed, covert photos, was scorching the site. [SCANDAL! Sales Rep goes to ANY lengths for a deal! Spotted with an old man at a Michelin-level restaurant! Total turn-off!] The moment I saw the photo, a deep chill ran through my blood. My face was clearly visible, and the client’s silhouette was unmistakable. The comments were already a torrent of vile abuse, numbering over a thousand. [I’m so jealous. I wish I was a girl. Flash a little leg, show some cleavage, and the cash rolls in. I bet that’s how she hit those multi-million-dollar targets.] [Zero surprise who this is! We’re pulling all-nighters and eating ramen, and she’s waltzing out at 5 PM with a Birkin. How is that fair?] [I saw the photos. She can even stomach a bald, greasy old man. That’s next-level commitment to the job!] The next second, Cynthia’s number flashed on my phone. “Serena Wells! Your leave of absence was to entertain a client, wasn’t it?! How did you end up entertaining some rich, old geezer on your lap?!” Her voice was shaking with what sounded like rage. “I knew it! How are you a top salesperson every month? You’re just a low-life slut, a total public embarrassment! You’ve ruined this department’s reputation!” “Get back here immediately! All your projects are suspended, effective immediately! We can’t have your filth tainting the company name!” I forced the anger down. “Watch your mouth, Cynthia! That is a high-value client!” “The contract is about to be signed! Instead of finding out who sabotaged my deal, you’re here slandering me? Have you lost your mind?” Cynthia let out a cold, theatrical snort. “Client? Please. Do you think we’re all blind? I know exactly what kind of client! The one you use to pull strings through unethical means!” “After that meal we paid for last night, we feel sick! You are a plague!” “And you wanted us to Venmo you? I’m starting to think you conspired with the restaurant to scam us out of money!” “Get back to the office and cooperate with the company investigation, or wait for your termination notice from corporate!” She hung up. I instructed the kitChan to prepare a few apology dishes for Mr. Harold and promised a reschedule. Then, I gathered my papers and headed back to the company. The moment I entered, the office was silent, filled with stares of disgust and contempt. I ignored them, slipping a small voice recorder into my jacket pocket before pushing open Cynthia’s office door. The air in the room was thick with accusation. The company VP, Mr. Greg, and a few other managers were there. Cynthia threw the printed photos at my face. “Backstabbing your manager, taking shortcuts… Serena, is there anything you won’t do?” A stinging pain flared on my cheek. I touched it—the paper had cut me. “Leaders,” Cynthia continued, addressing the room, “What legitimate employee takes a client to the most expensive, six-month-wait restaurant in the city? A single vegetable dish there costs four figures! How could a junior salesperson possibly afford it? It’s clearly shady!” “She’s the top seller every month, and took the biggest bonus this year. Now we know it’s all from back-alley deals. She’s disgraced the whole department! How am I supposed to manage a team now?” I took a deep breath, keeping my voice steady. “I did nothing wrong. This is defamation…” “Serena!” Mr. Greg cut me off, his voice sharp. “The evidence is clear. How many contracts have you signed using this method? Also, I intercepted your email to the ethics department…” “You need to be less petty. The workplace is not a family drama. The company is considering revoking your bonus and placing you on administrative leave. This entire situation is a black eye for us. We’ve decided to rescind your overseas assignment.” I snapped my head up. “On what grounds?” Catching Cynthia’s triumphant glance, my fury spiked. I raised my voice. “That bonus is earned! That overseas assignment is the culmination of three years of top performance!” I thought of the sacrifices: the three months I spent on assignment in freezing Alaska, missing my grandmother’s final moments. The time I’d thrown myself in front of a difficult client to shield him from a falling bag of cement on a construction site. The client was fine, but my finger was fractured, the tendons severed. I still can’t fully bend my pinky. All that sacrifice, now negated by a baseless smear? “I do not accept this. If the company insists on this course of action, then I will resign.” Mr. Greg’s face shifted. He knew I was the company’s top earner. Losing me meant his department couldn’t meet its quotas for headquarters. “We’ll temporarily suspend you. All your current projects will be transferred to Cynthia for the time being. We’ll wait for the investigation results before making a final decision…” I said nothing, turned, and left the office. Outside the door, a crowd of my colleagues was clustered, eager for the drama. I met their smug, gleeful eyes and issued my reminder. “I expect to see the full payment for the dinner in my account by the end of the day. Otherwise, I’m filing a police report for grand theft.” The forced composure on their faces flickered, revealing a hint of panic. I walked to the stairwell, pulled out my phone, and quickly dialed a number. “Attorney James, we can move forward with the initial grand theft proceedings I discussed with you. Also, I need to add a count of defamation.” The situation escalated fast. Someone screenshot the anonymous forum post and dumped it onto public social media. The ensuing cyberbullying felt like a beast trying to devour me. People dug up my social accounts and real name. My LinkedIn inbox was filled with strangers, my DMs were a screen-full of aggressive, vulgar messages, and my work email was bombarded with inappropriate images. At the peak of the storm, Cynthia released a statement. She posted selectively cropped screenshots of our chat, making it look like I was the conniving coworker who initially offered to treat everyone, then suddenly reneged and forced the team to split a sky-high bill. Several departmental colleagues stepped forward, confirming her story, claiming I was in cahoots with the restaurant. I became the internet’s latest villain: “The Scam-Artist Waitress.” I was packing my personal items when Cynthia walked up and tapped my desk. “Don’t leave yet. I need you to hand over all your client contacts and files to me.” “Every single one,” she added, looking down at me, victorious. Client contacts are a salesperson’s lifeline. I gave her a small, controlled smile. “Fine.” “But, Cynthia, are you sure you want to do this?” A flicker of unease crossed her face. “What is that supposed to mean?” I didn’t answer and walked away. While waiting for the elevator, a text from my attorney came through. [Everything is prepped.] I replied with a simple “Got it,” and tossed the empty cardboard box I was holding into the recycling bin. As of this moment, I was severing all ties with this company. I heard Cynthia’s obsequious voice behind me. “Mr. Harold, can I treat you to lunch tomorrow? Serena was fired for poor character. I’ll be handling your project from now on!” “Oh, she was caught cheating and the company found out. Don’t worry, your contract is safe with me!” “Yes, yes. I know you have a huge following online. Tomorrow at the city’s most famous Michelin-level restaurant—The Apex Grill—I will personally treat you to lunch. Please, you must come!” The elevator doors closed, but not before I heard a small burst of triumphant cheering from the office floor. They were celebrating their successful bullying campaign. I smiled, a genuine, chilling smile this time. They were celebrating their stupidity. I had personally worked with Mr. Harold before. He was a local tech entrepreneur, known for occasionally live-streaming his contract signings to his followers. His contracts always contained a specific clause: “The vendor may not, in any form, fabricate or disseminate statements or information that damage the reputation or image of the client, under penalty of a one-hundred-million-dollar fine.” One hundred million. I felt the cold amusement grow into a deep, satisfying chill. That night, around 6 PM, I checked the group chat. Not a single payment had been made. Worse, I had been kicked out of the chat. They thought they had won. They didn’t realize that last night’s gathering had been their last supper as a department. The next morning, Mr. Harold appeared on a live stream. “Today, I’m headed to the most exclusive, top-tier Michelin spot in the city to sign a contract! My assistant has been on the waitlist for three months, and we still couldn’t get in!” I sat in a private booth on the second floor of The Apex Grill. The balcony overlooked the street, giving me a clear view of everything happening at the entrance below. Cynthia was walking ahead of Mr. Harold, bowing and scraping like a maître d’, completely missing the embarrassment on Mr. Harold’ face and his efforts to keep his camera angle away from her. She reached the massive wooden doors, ready to push them open. Suddenly, a hand blocked her path. “I’m sorry, ma’am. You are not permitted to enter.” Cynthia’s brow furrowed in irritation. “I paid a black-market scalper twenty thousand dollars for this reservation! Why can’t I get in?” Mr. Harold sensed the problem. He covered his phone’s mic and gritted his teeth, hissing at her. “What are you pulling, Cynthia?!” Her face flashed red, then green. She glared at the server and tried to shove past him. “Don’t you dare stop me! I paid for this reservation! Let me in!” Her aggressive behavior was broadcast live. The comment section immediately blew up with question marks. Cynthia caught a glimpse of the feed, her face a blazing crimson. Then, she snatched a thick wad of cash from her bag and tried to shove it into the server’s hand. “Is it a tip you want? Just let me in! Don’t make this difficult!” Passersby started to gather. The server politely pushed the money back. Cynthia, panicking, refused to take it, and the cash scattered across the sidewalk. A few security guards rushed over, carrying truncheons, ready to escort Cynthia away. Just as Cynthia began to shriek obscenities, the server spoke, his voice ice-cold. “I sincerely apologize.” “Based on your severe record of dining and ditching, with an outstanding balance of $29,800, you are permanently blacklisted at this establishment. I am authorized to refuse you entry.” Cynthia’s face froze. “Cynthia Ruth, for your act of grand theft and refusal to pay, I, representing the Eastbridge Hospitality Group, have formally filed a lawsuit against you and all seventeen individuals in your department.” I stepped out onto the balcony, delivering my sentence with a single, clear statement. The live stream, with hundreds of thousands of viewers, instantly went into meltdown. I glanced at the frenzied comments. Cynthia, your reckoning has only just begun.

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