Category: English

The eighth time I caught Sheriff cheating, I didn’t scream or cry. I simply handed the girl her coat and said calmly, “Use the back door.” She shot me a terrified glance and practically fled. Sheriff, meanwhile, leaned back against the headboard, watching me as he lit a cigarette with slow, deliberate movements. “The kid’s new to this. Don’t scare her,” he said, smoke curling from his lips. “She’s not like you. I don’t want her getting hurt.” He took another drag. “It’s her birthday today. I’m staying with her tonight, so don’t wait up.” I lowered my eyes and gave a soft acknowledgment, not bothering to argue. After all, it seemed Sheriff wasn’t aware of one crucial detail. That young girl was HIV-positive. 1. Used condoms littered the floor, and the air hung thick with a faint, cloying scent. I put on a mask, opened the windows, and let the room air out. I didn’t spare him another glance. He, however, watched me with amusement, blowing smoke rings. “Not threatening divorce today? Finally come to your senses?” My back was to him. My fingers paused on the windowsill before pushing the window open further. “Yes,” my voice was light. “I’ve come to my senses.” Sheriff let out a short, humorless laugh. “About time,” he said, getting up languidly and starting to dress. “In our world, this is how marriages end up. Everyone plays their own game. It’s better you understand that. Saves us both the embarrassment.” I turned and watched him button his shirt. Four years of marriage, and he was still devastatingly handsome. That roguish, carefree air about him could still make a young girl’s heart flutter. “Are you sure you’re not coming home tonight?” I asked. “I’m sure.” He fastened his belt, giving me a sideways glance. “Why, is today some special occasion?” I shook my head. “Just asking.” He shrugged and picked up the watch from the nightstand—a limited edition Patek Philippe I’d given him for his birthday last year. “Oh, right,” he said, pausing at the door. “We’re out of condoms. Pick some up when you have a chance.” “Alright.” The door clicked shut. I stood by the window for a while longer, watching his headlights cut through the darkness and disappear down the tree-lined drive. Then, I picked up my phone and dialed a number. “He’s gone,” I said. “You can start the cleanup.” Five minutes later, three people in full hazmat suits entered the room. They worked efficiently, gathering the scattered condoms, wiping down every surface with a special disinfectant, and stripping all the bedding to seal it in biohazard bags. The woman in charge nodded at me. “It’s all taken care of, Ms. Thorne. Rest assured, there’s no risk of contamination.” “Thank you,” I said. “This bedroom, especially. It needs to be completely sanitized.” “Understood.” I stepped out of the room and closed the door. The soft hallway light spilled onto the dark hardwood floor. On the wall hung our wedding portrait. In it, I was radiant in my white dress, my smile shy and full of joy. Sheriff had his arm around my waist, his gaze tender. We were inseparable then, deeply in love. Now, that same wall was covered in tacky hearts drawn with different shades of lipstick by his various women. The same women who had cost me two pregnancies, leaving me unable to conceive again. I gave the photo one last, placid look before turning and heading downstairs. On the living room coffee table sat a cake box. I took out the complimentary candle, stuck one in the cake, and lit it. Sheriff only remembered that today was his little fling’s birthday. He had, as usual, forgotten that it was also our fourth wedding anniversary. And my birthday. The flame danced. I stared at it for a long moment before blowing it out. The truth was, I had been planning to file for divorce. But not anymore. I wanted his billion-dollar inheritance. I wanted all his money, and all his power. 2. Sheriff didn’t come home for five straight days. But his new girl, as if given his blessing, sent me texts and videos with clockwork precision. 【He says I’m the kind of person he’s always truly wanted.】 【He says he got tired of a stay-at-home wife like you a long time ago.】 【He’s not coming home again tonight. Are you cold sleeping all alone?】 I didn’t reply to a single one. I just took my medication on time, went to my check-ups, slept soundly, and had my assistant archive the screenshots as usual. On the sixth night, Sheriff called. I was at the hospital, waiting for test results on a bench in the hallway after a round of exams. His voice on the other end was hoarse, laced with the breathless fatigue of recent indulgence. “Seraphina,” he said my name. “Someone got pictures of me and Aria. There’s an interview tomorrow. I need you to come to the office and help clear her name.” I was silent for a beat. “Clear her name of what?” “Just say it was a misunderstanding. That she’s just a student I’m sponsoring, and you were there at the time,” he paused. “You know how it is. She’s young, she can’t handle this kind of public pressure.” I looked down at the faint needle mark on the back of my hand. “Alright,” I said. He audibly relaxed. “You’re always so understanding,” his tone softened. “I’ll come home tonight to spend some time with you. It’s been a while since we…” “It’s not a good time for me,” I said flatly, cutting him off. “It’s that time of the month.” There was a moment of silence. “…Fine,” he sounded disappointed, but quickly switched back to his charming tone. “Well, get some sleep. Don’t overthink things.” After hanging up, I stared at the dark screen and felt a sudden urge to laugh. He thought I was saving myself for him. He had no idea I was just disgusted by him. The next day’s interview was held in the lobby of the corporate headquarters. The press turned out in droves, their cameras all pointed at the “model couple.” I linked my arm through Sheriff’s, my makeup flawless, my smile warm and gracious. When asked about the rumors, he instinctively glanced at me. I took the microphone for him. “It truly is a misunderstanding,” I said with a smile. “Miss Aria is a student my husband sponsors. She hasn’t been well lately, so he’s been looking after her a bit more. Someone with ill intentions took those photos, and things got blown out of proportion. I hope everyone can refrain from over-analyzing.” Someone from the crowd pressed, “Mrs. Thorne, are you saying you don’t mind at all?” I turned to Sheriff, my eyes filled with nothing but trust and devotion. “Of course, I trust him completely.” I felt his grip on my wrist tighten. Halfway through the interview, his phone buzzed with a message. The color drained from Sheriff’s face almost instantly. He shot up from his seat without even looking at me. “Sorry, something urgent has come up,” he said to the host, already turning to leave. I remained seated, microphone in hand, as a stir went through the media. Someone shouted, “Mr. Thorne, is it about Miss Aria? We heard she was hospitalized?” His stride faltered for a second. Then he walked out without looking back. I was left alone, sitting under the brightest lights, to clean up his mess and continue playing the part of the doting, supportive wife. After it was over, my assistant asked cautiously, “Ma’am, are you alright?” I stood up, smoothed my dress, and smiled. “I’m perfectly fine.” And I truly was. Because I knew he had just given me another push toward the finish line. He didn’t come home that night. He just sent a single text: 【Her fever is high. I’m at the hospital. You go to sleep.】 I replied with one word: 【Okay.】 Then, after a moment’s thought, I sent another: 【My mother isn’t feeling well. I’m going back to my hometown tomorrow. I’ll probably be back in a month.】 【Do you want me to go with you?】 【It’s nothing serious. I can handle it.】 【Okay.】 After sending the message, I let out a breath of relief. I put my phone aside and continued to review the new report that had just arrived. On it, a few words were written with stark clarity. —Incubation period over. Now infectious. 3. The next morning, I packed a suitcase and left the villa. As the car pulled out of the tree-lined drive, I glanced in the rearview mirror at the house I had lived in for four years. The morning mist hadn’t yet burned off, casting a greyish-white glow over the entire garden. The garden was filled with red roses. He had them flown in from France years ago, all because I had once mentioned I liked them. The golden boy of New York’s elite had spent months with me, planting every one of those nine hundred and ninety-nine roses by hand. He had even stayed up late revising the layout nine times to ensure it was perfectly beautiful. I had laughed at him then. “You’re a grown man, why are you more particular about this than I am?” He had leaned down and kissed my forehead. “Because this is our home.” Our home. I looked away and leaned back against the seat, closing my eyes. Now, he brought home an endless parade of lovers, and I was the only one left to tend the roses. Our home had long since become their home. I didn’t go to my hometown. I drove directly to a private wellness retreat in the suburbs. The doctor was already waiting for me. “Ms. Thorne, based on the current data, there are no signs of infection on your end,” he said, flipping through the report. “But to be absolutely certain, it’s best you avoid any close contact with anyone for the next month.” “I understand,” I nodded. “As for Mr. Thorne…” he trailed off, leaving the sentence unfinished. “Just continue to monitor the situation,” I finished for him. “Let me know the moment you have any results.” I checked into a private cottage at the far end of the retreat. My days became simple and routine: check-ups, medication, reading, and walking. It was like I was patiently waiting for a countdown to end. On the seventh night, Sheriff called me. It was the first time he had proactively contacted me since I left. The line was noisy, sounding like he was at a business dinner. “Where are you?” he asked, his tone impatient. “My hometown,” I replied calmly. “Why haven’t you been answering my messages?” he sounded annoyed. “I haven’t been feeling well the last couple of days, probably just exhausted. When are you coming back?” “I’m not sure,” I said softly. “I need to see how things go with my mother.” He was clearly unhappy but managed to keep his temper in check. “Fine. Just take care of yourself.” Before he hung up, he added, “By the way, Aria is feeling better. She’s out of the hospital. She doesn’t know anyone in the city, and I didn’t feel right leaving her in a hotel, so I let her stay at the villa for a few days. She’s in your bedroom, so don’t be surprised when you get back. And don’t overthink it.” I just said, “Mm.” Of course I wouldn’t overthink it. After all, that was the place I had chosen for them. Four more days passed. This time, it was his assistant who called me. His voice was frantic. “Ma’am, something’s happened to Mr. Thorne.” My fingers tightened around my phone. “What’s wrong with him?” “He had a high fever all last night. We brought him to the hospital this morning, and the doctors… the doctors are saying it’s a bit complicated. They’re asking for family to come as soon as possible.” I was silent for a beat. “Which hospital?” The assistant gave me the address. It was the same one Aria had stayed at. “I see,” I said. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” After hanging up, I sat on the edge of the bed and looked out the window at the quiet lawn. The sun was bright. Too bright for something terrible to be happening. The doctor knocked and entered. “Ms. Thorne,” he said, seeing me. “Are you heading out?” “Yes.” I stood up. “To see my husband.” He looked like he wanted to say more, but in the end, he only said, “Please be careful.” I smiled and put on my mask. “Don’t worry.” I value my life more than anyone. 4. As the car entered the city, my phone lit up again. It was a message from Sheriff. 【Where are you?】 I stared at the two words for a long time before replying. 【On my way.】 【I feel awful.】 【The doctors are with me.】 He must have been truly scared. In the past, whenever he was sick, I was always the one by his bedside. Giving him water, medicine, staying up all night. He was used to me always being there. This time, he could only reach out to me through a screen. I didn’t reply again. The hospital reeked of disinfectant. His assistant was waiting for me at the entrance, his face even paler than I had imagined. “Ma’am,” he said in a low voice. “The doctors have done a preliminary examination on Mr. Thorne. They’re recommending… further specialized testing.” I nodded. “I know.” When I pushed open the door to his room, Sheriff was leaning against the headboard, an IV drip in his arm. He had lost some weight, and his complexion was terrible. The moment he saw me, he visibly relaxed. “You’re here.” In that instant, the dependence in his eyes was almost instinctual. I walked over and set my purse down. “What’s wrong?” “I have no energy,” he frowned. “My head hurts. The doctors think it might be an infection.” He said it casually, as if talking about a common cold. I tucked the blanket in around him, my movements as gentle as always. “Don’t worry,” I said softly. “You’ll be alright.” He looked at me and suddenly reached out, grabbing my wrist. “Seraphina,” his voice was hoarse. “This must have been hard on you.” I looked down at the hand gripping mine. His fingers were long and elegant. They had held my hand through crowds countless times before. “We’re husband and wife,” I said. Only then did he seem to relax, slowly closing his eyes. Not long after, the doctor came in and asked to speak with me outside. The hallway was long. Before he handed me the report, he gave me a look. “Ms. Thorne, the results are in.” I took it, my eyes falling on the most crucial line. —Infection Confirmed. I was calm. So calm it was almost surprising, even to myself. “Does he know yet?” I asked. “Not yet,” the doctor said. “In situations like this, we recommend that the family informs the patient.” I nodded. “I’ll do it.” When I returned to the room, Sheriff was still asleep. The afternoon sun cast a warm glow on his face, making him look peaceful and innocent. As if nothing had happened yet. I sat by his bed and watched him for a long time. Then, I softly called his name. “Sheriff.” He opened his eyes. “Hm?” I looked at him, my voice as gentle as ever. “The doctor said you have a serious illness.” He froze. “What kind of illness?” I didn’t answer immediately. I just slowly, deliberately, placed the report in front of him.

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The “West Coast” style video I filmed of my son went viral. But the one who got famous wasn’t me. It was my son. Netizens instantly recognized the child as a miniature version of Julian Vance. The boss of Vance Enterprises, the famous Crown Prince of the business world. Netizens dug deeper and deeper. They even dug up the video of Julian and me breaking up, convinced I was the ex-girlfriend who ran away pregnant. I sighed. They really misunderstood. Julian and I… we were actually married. Chapter 1 I never expected the West Coast hip-hop video to blow up. Originally, I just wanted to record my daily life with my child in the last period of my life. But it went viral. In the video, my son wore seven or eight pairs of sagging pants, playing along with my nonsense with a cold little face. He carried a calmness that didn’t fit his age. Netizens commented spicily: “This is the West Coast vibe! Pee one pair, wash eight pairs!” “This is the West Coast vibe! Pants bitten to shreds!” Under more and more comments, a particularly eye-catching one suddenly appeared. “Doesn’t this kid’s cold face look exactly like my big boss, Julian Vance?” “That’s Julian Vance, the CEO of Vance Enterprises.” “No way, I saw her at a shabby hospital near my house two days ago, treating her illness alone… If she knows your big boss, why would she come here?” “To the person above, I often see her coming alone for IV drips at the hospital near my house. Doesn’t look rich.” “Not lying to you guys, here’s a comparison pic!!!” So a photo was actually released. When my son had a cold face, his profile was identical to Julian’s. Seeing this photo, I hurriedly took down the video. But a step too late. That sentence still exploded me onto the trending search. Netizens dug deeper, directly identifying me as Julian’s ex-girlfriend. Our breakup video was posted online. I’ve seen it. It’s true. This was the first time I knew from a third-person perspective. Julian looked back for me, and stopped for a long time for me. He stood in the snow, a cigarette burning at his fingertips, long enough for a thin layer of snow to fall on his shoulders. But I was busy escaping the sea of misery, walking away decisively, without staying a bit. At that time, words were too heavy, specifically aiming at his heart. I said in this life, I never want to be related to him again. Even in death, I don’t want his name on my tombstone. But five years later, I still got involved with him. Netizens asked me to respond to this relationship. I didn’t respond at all. Simply deleted the account. I was still afraid Julian would come to snatch the child. Chapter 2 Julian still made it to the trending search because of my son. Vance Enterprises, whose PR was always strong, did not issue any statement. As if instructed, they stood still. Long enough for the Lin Group to sit still no longer, actively issuing a statement. Lyla Lin even posted a photo of her and Julian on the platform, admitting she was Julian’s fiancée. She said generously: “We are all adults, just an ex, I don’t care.” “But the child, purely a rumor.” “I want to ask Miss Hazel, what child needs to be carried for two years?” Julian and I have been separated for five years. The child is three. Obviously not much to do with him. So a group of people ran over to scold me as a “scumbag woman,” abandoning my boyfriend on the front foot and getting pregnant with someone else’s child on the back foot. Some netizens pointed at the child and called him a bastard. I cursed in a low voice. If possible, I wish the child wasn’t Julian’s. In this life, I don’t want to be related to him again. Turning around, my son stood outside the door with a glass of milk. His fair little face was expressionless. Eyes were dark and bright. Seemed dissatisfied with my swearing. “Mom—” He kept a straight face, serious and proper. Seeing he was about to nag, I quickly took the milk from his hand and swallowed a handful of pills. “Baby, thank you.” “Goodnight, Mom is sleepy.” I quickly burrowed into the quilt, closing my eyes to fake sleep. My son watched for two seconds, pursing his lips. After all, he was still small and couldn’t hide things. He stood by my bed for a long time: “Mom.” “Hmm?” “Is that man online Dad?” He saw that comparison picture too. Their features were almost identical, even the look of coldness towards people. I sat up and rubbed his fluffy head. Guiding patiently like a gentle mother: “Hayden.” “You are a little man now.” “So when Mom tells you this sad news, you must be strong, okay?!” He nodded, eyes full of seriousness. “That’s not your dad.” I lowered my voice, “Your dad turned into a dog and went wandering.” Visibly, my son’s eyes widened. “Alright baby, go digest it yourself.” “It’s very late, Mom has to work tomorrow.” He lay on my quilt, hugging my neck tightly, warm. “Mom, don’t be sad.” “I will always be with you, I won’t run.” “Mom, goodnight.” He kissed my side face. A warm little boy. I often sigh at my courage to give birth to him despite everyone’s opposition. Accompanying him to grow up stumblingly, I never regretted it. Chapter 3 The next day, I rode my E-bike to send Hayden to kindergarten. Then turned to the hospital. A morning passed, I came out of the hospital pressing a cotton swab. Winter is good, thick clothes wrap everything, needle holes and bruises are invisible. Saving Hayden from chasing behind me every day asking, “Mom, what’s wrong?” I put on my helmet to ride, looked down, and saw a pink thermos and apricot gloves in the small basket under the windshield cover. Both new. The thermos contained warm water. I finally understood why Hayden kept picking up plastic bottles and cardboard boxes home these days. Silly child. I put on the gloves, warm. The simplest style. But I couldn’t get enough of looking at them. Cold wind blew, eyes stung. I often wonder, if one day I leave. What about Hayden? Let him grow up alone? I can’t bear it. Actually, I could go to Julian, beg him for some money. Maybe my illness could be cured. It’s just, guessing he still hates me. A stingy person like him wouldn’t even give me a dollar. I was distracted. On the way home, at the traffic light, accidentally scraped a black luxury sedan. The moment the owner rolled down the window. I froze for several seconds, even forgetting the scrape on my palm. Until I snapped back, I quickly put my hand in my pocket. The man in the car got out, glanced lightly at the scrape, then looked at me. Looking at his familiar brows and eyes. My fingertips rubbed helplessly, throat felt like stuffed with cotton, sour and swollen. Tears almost fell. “Miss Hazel, long time no see.” His voice was low. The look in his eyes was a bit cold. Gaze sweeping over my scraped hand, he said nothing. After looking at the car scrape quietly for a few seconds, he lifted his eyelids to look at me: “How does Miss Hazel plan to compensate?” Tone cold as treating a stranger. Like he said back then, I left, he would never forgive me in this life. Meeting later, just treat as strangers. I was quiet for a few seconds because I really couldn’t take out money. His phone rang timely. In front of me, he had no avoidance. “I’m outside, you eat well first.” “Don’t fuss, will go back to accompany you tonight.” “Bring you strawberry cake, okay?” He coaxed patiently, looked up and returned to coldness. Eyes written with scrutiny: “Miss Hazel, how exactly to compensate?” He repeated. Then took out his phone and opened the QR code. I looked twice, didn’t scan. Just reached out to untie the jade pendant on my neck, the only valuable thing on me. I put it in my palm, voice very light: “This as mortgage to you, I can’t take out any more.” Chapter 4 Julian frowned, didn’t take the jade pendant. His tone was cold: “Hazel, you are this poor? The money you took when divorcing, spent in five years?” He didn’t know. That money, not enough. Far from enough. I nodded, voice very light: “After remarrying, my husband gambled, I paid a lot of debts for him.” Julian looked up at me, frowning. I paused, voice very light: “The child also had a bad heart due to premature birth, cost me a lot of money back and forth.” “Julian, I’m quite miserable.” The first sentence was made up. The latter was true. I didn’t remarry. But the child was indeed premature, stayed in the incubator for more than forty days. The tube inserted from the nose, long, reaching the heart. At that time, I, dragging a body just after surgery, stood in front of the incubator. Eyes almost went blind from crying. He was so small, so thin. Wearing an oxygen mask, the small body even breathing was difficult. During that period, the doctor issued critical illness notices countless times. Every time, I signed. That month gambling with the God of Death was unspeakably bitter. Because of premature birth, Hayden spent his first year in the hospital. Fever, vomiting milk were common. The most fatal thing was the doctor said the child had heart problems. At five months old, he had his first surgery. Pushed out covered in tubes. So small a ball, trapped in white bedding, almost invisible. Only seeing countless tubes. Going down from the nose, coming out from the mouth, wrapped around the chest, connected to hands and feet. I wanted to hug him. Afraid of hurting him. Could only hold his cold little hand carefully, telling him to be strong over and over again. Thinking of those past events, my eyes were a bit wet. Julian looked at me, fingers clenched, ripples in his eyes. Quickly converged the moment I looked up. “You don’t have children, may not know how much money it costs to raise a child.” I pinched my fingertips to hold back tears and said. Julian’s Adam’s apple rolled, dark eyes looked at me, voice low: “How do you know I don’t?” Oh. He has a child. I saw photos on his phone before. At that time, he held a newborn baby, gently kissing the baby’s wrinkled face, eyes soft. Their child is so happy. Born in the best hospital. Sleeping in the softest cradle. Wearing the warmest clothes. These, my child didn’t have. I gritted my teeth, suddenly didn’t want to continue entangling. So turned and walked away. “Hazel, I give you a chance.” “Fifty thousand, apologize to me, I return the thing to you.” Tone exactly the same as five years ago, calm to the point of being cool. He didn’t understand, how could someone be so short of money? Short to the point of not even wanting dignity. I exploded like a cat whose tail was stepped on. “Don’t want it! Don’t want it even if you give more.” Blood all over the body flowing backward. I picked up the thermos on the ground, turned to leave. Julian pulled my arm, fingers clenched: “Hazel, calm down, think clearly.” “You used the child to get on the trending search to force me to appear, isn’t it for money?” Heh. Who has nothing better to do than to get involved with him. I suppressed my anger, finally couldn’t hold it back. “That’s better than you having a bastard with someone else during marriage!” One sentence, the air stagnated. Chapter 5 Julian looked up at me, eyes deep. His Adam’s apple rolled, dark eyes fixed on me, with a threatening meaning: “Hazel, I say it for the last time, she isn’t.” How much he loves their child. Even denial, he couldn’t bear to use that vicious, dirty word. I couldn’t bear it anymore, threw off his hand fiercely, eyes full of hate: “Child born with someone else during marriage, if not a bastard, what is it?” Julian’s jaw was tight, didn’t speak for a long time. Suppressing emotions extremely. “Hazel.” He called me, voice heavy like absorbing water, suffocating, “Matters between us have nothing to do with the child.” “You can hate me, but not the child.” Why nothing to do? Why can’t hate their child? Why? Questioning words stuck in throat, I clenched my fists tightly, but tears surged out. So forced myself to turn around, didn’t want to cry in front of him. Atmosphere deadlocked. I inhaled cold air to relieve the pain in my heart. Looking up, I saw my son holding a chicken cutlet bigger than his face standing opposite the traffic light. Quietly. Little face frozen red. Don’t know how long he waited. Julian also saw the child. So called me when I turned to leave, voice a bit hoarse: “Hazel, how do you explain the son?” What’s there to explain? Did he tell me when he had a child with another woman? I glared at him with red eyes, word by word: “Julian Vance, I gave birth to the child, nothing to do with you.” “Don’t disturb our life.” “Person like you, deserves to die alone.”

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The first time I brought my boyfriend, a CEO of a listed company, home. My stepmother frowned with disgust. She said earnestly in front of the whole family: “Daughter, as someone who’s been there, I have to warn you.” “Rich people like him are most afraid of filth. Is your AIDS cured? Don’t harm him!” “You had over ten abortions in the red-light district because of this disease, your uterus is rotten. What if you infect his whole family?” My boyfriend left in extreme disappointment. Distracted while driving, he died in a car crash. I went crazy and questioned my stepmother why she slandered me with such filthy lies. She said nonchalantly: “I was helping you test if it was true love. Who knew he was so petty?” Even my father echoed: “Good thing we tested him. If you really married such a stingy man, you’d be crying later!” I was furious and died of a stroke from anger. Reborn. I looked at my stepmother, who was about to open her mouth, and smiled. Since you love testing so much, let me help you test my dad. Chapter 1 The atmosphere in the private room was suffocating. The crystal chandelier was blinding. My dad, Nathan, sat at the head of the table, his face flushed with health. My stepmother, Lucinda, parted her lips, that vicious line about to come out. I slammed my chopsticks onto the table. Clack. I covered my face and started wailing without even building up emotion. “Dad! I’m so sorry!” This scream confused everyone present. “Gavin said! As long as you agree to treatment, he can help with the $500 million debt! Our family won’t go bankrupt!” The flush on Nathan’s face vanished instantly. “W… what $500 million? What bankruptcy?” Lucinda ignored her lobster and screeched, “Nina! What nonsense are you talking about? The company is fine!” I sniffled, pointing at Nathan’s crotch, voice loud enough to lift the roof. “Dad! At a time like this, let’s stop hiding it!” “Aunt Lucinda, take Dad to the hospital quickly!” “The doctor told me, it’s Super Syphilis! And it’s late stage!” “If he doesn’t treat it, that thing will rot off! His whole body will fester, oozing pus and blood, he won’t even have a whole corpse when he dies!” Crash. Lucinda’s chair fell over. She sprang away three meters as if on springs. She screamed in horror, “What? Syphilis?! Late stage?!” Step-sister Tiffany was scared silly too, dropping her wine glass. She screamed along, “Mom! Didn’t you say this old man was healthy? How could he have such a dirty disease!” Nathan turned purple with rage. He stood up abruptly, pointing at me, “You unfilial daughter! What nonsense! When did I…” I didn’t let him finish. I pulled a prepared lab report from my bag. And stuffed it into Nathan’s hand. “Dad! Look for yourself! It’s the urgent report from City Hospital!” The bright red words: [Treponema pallidum antibody positive (++++), Stage 3, immediate hospitalization recommended]. Nathan looked at the paper, hands shaking like he had Parkinson’s, mind blank. A man shrewd all his life, his IQ dropped to zero on matters concerning his “manhood.” I turned, looking at Lucinda with teary eyes. “Aunt Lucinda, you always say true love is priceless.” “You said true love must withstand testing.” “You won’t despise Dad for being dirty, right?” “Gavin said, as long as he gets treatment, we’ll shoulder the $500 million debt! Even if we sleep on the streets and beg, as long as the family is together and Dad is alive, we are happy, right?” I spoke with deep emotion. Lucinda’s face looked worse than if she ate shit. Her eyes darted around. $500 million debt? Sleep on the streets? Serve a syphilitic old man with a rotting crotch? Tiffany couldn’t take it first. She jumped up yelling, “Mom! Didn’t you say marrying this old geezer was for me to enjoy life? I won’t sleep on the streets! I won’t serve a dirty old man!” Lucinda seemed to snap out of it. She looked up, resolute. “No! Absolutely not!” “I’m carrying a son! I can’t be infected!” “I came to be a rich wife, not to be poor!” “Nathan! You old immortal thing, stay away from me!” Chapter 2 Nathan’s lips trembled with anger, “I didn’t… I’m not…” I wanted to laugh, but held it back. I cried and added, “Aunt Lucinda, how can you say that? Dad mortgaged the house to buy luxury goods for you and Tiffany! Was it easy for him?” Hearing “mortgaged the house,” Lucinda went completely mad. That was her bottom line. She planned to give birth to the son and fight me for Nathan’s assets. Now not only assets are gone, but debt remains? “House gone?!” Lucinda’s scream pierced eardrums. Nathan was about to say no. Gavin spoke timely. “Mr. Nathan, the mortgage contract is ready. If you don’t sign, the bank will seize everything tomorrow for the $500 million gap.” “Not just the house, but the watch on your wrist, the clothes on your back, all will be taken.” Nathan was confused. Lucinda believed it completely. A late-stage syphilis old man, $500 million debt, no house, no car. Lucinda’s face became hideous. She threw her napkin on the floor. “No house? No money? And a dirty disease?” “Why the hell should I stay with you!” “Divorce! Immediately!” “Nathan, I’m telling you now, we are divorcing!” “Tiffany, let’s go!” Lucinda pulled Tiffany to leave. Nathan was thunderstruck. He never expected his obedient, gentle wife to flip so fast. “Lucinda, what are you saying? You want a divorce?” “Duh! Wait to die with you?” Lucinda spat, face twisted. “Nathan, look at yourself! No money, no health, and a dirty disease! I was blind to be with you!” At this moment, the silent Gavin spoke again. “Ms. Lucinda, I’m afraid it’s not that simple.” He adjusted his cuffs slowly. “According to marriage law, debts incurred during marriage are joint debts. Nathan’s credit is ruined. As a spouse, you likely bear joint liability.” “That $500 million, you have a share.” Lucinda froze. She didn’t know law, but she understood “joint liability.” It meant she had to pay too! “No! Why! I won’t pay! It’s his debt!” Lucinda screamed. Then, her eyes rolled, and she suddenly laughed. “Hahahaha! Luckily! Luckily I’m smart!” She pointed at Nathan, chin high. “Nathan, you fool! When we had the wedding, I said I lost my ID, so we never registered the marriage!” Nathan was dumbfounded. He pampered her, gave her everything. Unexpectedly, she was waiting here. “Lucinda, you… you lied to me?” “So what? Look at your old face, do you deserve me?” Lucinda rushed up and stripped the gold watch off Nathan’s wrist. “This is my compensation! I need to check if I caught your dirty disease! Bad luck! Bad fucking luck!” Nathan tried to grab it back. “Give it back! That’s mine!” “Get lost!” Lucinda pushed him away. She dusted her hands in disgust, as if touching trash. “Don’t touch me! My son in my belly is precious! Can you afford to hurt him?” Chapter 3 Nathan stumbled. He pointed at Lucinda’s belly, trembling. “Child… that’s my child!” “Your child?” Lucinda sneered. “Nathan, look at yourself. With your toothpick, can you make a baby? Pui!” She spat at Nathan’s feet. “Truth be told! This isn’t your seed, you rotten thing!” Nathan felt his brain buzz. “What did you say?!” Lucinda took out her phone triumphantly. “My man is a top billionaire! Ten thousand times better than you bankrupt loser! He drives a Rolls-Royce, lives in a mansion! I’ll call him to pick me up now!” She dialed a number. A rough male voice answered. “Hello? Who is it?” Lucinda changed her tone instantly, voice sickeningly sweet. “Brother Dragon, it’s me, Lucinda! I missed you!” “Oh, Lucinda. What’s up?” “Brother Dragon, come pick me up! I’m at the Hilton, I miss you to death.” Silence for two seconds. “Fine, wait. I’m nearby.” Hanging up, Lucinda fixed her hair, chin high. “See? Dragon is coming! You poor ghosts, wait to kneel!” Nathan got up, eyes red. He loved saving face the most. He couldn’t swallow this. He rushed into the pantry, grabbed a fruit knife, and charged out. “Lucinda! I’ll kill you! You slut!” Lucinda screamed, hiding behind Tiffany. “Murder! Help! Mad dog biting!” Tiffany was scared too, pushing her mom toward the door. I was quick, blocking Nathan. “Dad! Calm down! Murder means life in prison!” Nathan struggled, strong. “Let go! I’ll die with this bitch! She cheated my money, cheated my feelings! I’ll cut her open to see whose bastard it is!” I whispered in his ear, “Dad, don’t be impulsive. Which is more important, face or life?” Nathan paused. His knife lowered slowly, but he still stared at Lucinda. “Fine! I’ll see! Who the adulterer is!” Just then, screeching brakes sounded outside. Screech— Lucinda’s eyes lit up. She smoothed her mink coat, touched up her lipstick. “Hear that? That’s a Rolls-Royce! Only luxury cars sound like that!” Tiffany got excited, holding her mom’s arm. “Mom, is it really Brother Dragon? Am I a rich heiress now? I want Hermes, and a Ferrari!” “Buy! Buy it all! We’ll live in luxury, let these poor ghosts envy us!” Lucinda glanced at me smugly. “Nina, you and your poor boyfriend kneel and kowtow three times, maybe I’ll let Dragon give you some leftovers.” I didn’t speak, corner of my mouth lifting slightly. Gavin leaned back, playing with a lighter, watching the show. The door opened. Lucinda welcomed him excitedly, face full of smiles. “Brother Dragon! You’re finally here! I…” A stench flooded in. Lucinda’s smile froze. Chapter 4 Three homeless men in rags stood there. The leader, an old man in his sixties, smiled revealing yellow teeth. “Lucinda!” He threw down his woven bag, arms open, rushing forward. “Oh my sweet heart! You said you carried my baby and would take me to a villa. When? Can you buy me a roast chicken tonight?” Lucinda rolled her eyes at the stench. She backed away, pushing him. “Get away! Who are you! I don’t know you! I called Brother Dragon! Where is he?!” The old man grinned, pointing at his nose. “I am Dragon! Big Tony! The one under the bridge! Lucinda, you forgot? That night under the bridge, you called me Brother Dragon so affectionately!” Lucinda froze. Flashes of memory. She fought with Nathan, went out drinking, got drunk, and ended up under the bridge… She thought it was a nightmare. Turns out it was real. I sneered, interjecting timely. “Aunt Lucinda, the ‘Dragon’ in your phone isn’t Big Tony who collects scrap under the bridge? You really eat anything, even got pregnant.” I investigated this long ago. Lucinda’s private life was chaotic. I just helped invite her old lovers. The other two homeless men surrounded her too. One lame, one one-eyed. The lame one slammed his bowl on the table. “Lucinda, don’t be biased! That night under the bridge, we queued up! Who knows whose kid it is!” The one-eyed man joined in, reaching for her belly. “Yeah! I contributed too! If it’s mine, I’ll raise him picking trash!” Three dirty hands reached for Lucinda. Lucinda was terrified, slapping their hands away. “Get out! All of you! Don’t touch me! I don’t know you! You beggars!” Tiffany was dumbfounded. Her proud sugar daddy turned out to be this? “Mom… this… what’s going on? Where’s my rich dad?” Nathan stood aside, watching this absurd scene. His face changed colors, feeling heavy on his head. He thought he married a trophy wife, didn’t expect her to be so loose. Pfft… Hearing the filth, imagining the scene, Nathan spat blood. “Lucinda! You… you are shameless!” He rushed into the pantry, grabbed a bigger cleaver, and charged out. This time, no one stopped him. “I’ll kill you bastards! I’ll fight you to death!” Nathan waved the cleaver, charging at Lucinda. Lucinda ran for her life, screaming. “Murder! Help!” She ran around the table, chased by three homeless men, then Nathan with a cleaver. “Don’t chop me! I just came to claim my son!” “Lucinda run! This old man is crazy!” Lucinda lost a heel, hair messy, pathetic. Running and looking back, she bumped into a figure entering the door. She looked up and hugged his leg. “Dragon! Save me! My real Dragon is here!” Tiffany hid in the corner, seeing this, got anxious. She pointed at the man, screaming at Lucinda. “Mom! What are you doing? That’s my Top Donor?! You seduced my Sugar Daddy?! Have you no shame!”

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1 When I was at my lowest, I took in Sebastian Blackwood, the destitute illegitimate son of the city’s wealthiest family. After using him for four years, I discarded him without a second thought. The next time we met, he was head of the Blackwood empire. My half-sister Lila hung on his arm, sneering at my wretched state. “Sienna, did you ever think this would happen when you dumped Sebastian for money?” For revenge, Sebastian bought every hospital in Crestfall City and raised my mother’s life-saving medication price a hundredfold. He forced me into a month as his secret lover in exchange for the millions needed for her treatment. With three days left, he pushed me until I blacked out on the bed. Drifting in and out, I heard him on the balcony: “…Campus beauty? She’s just a vain, gold-digging tramp.” Another voice warned: “Don’t let that innocent act fool you again. Remember the plan—get even for Lila, then leave her.” I heard a cigarette being crushed. “Don’t worry,” Sebastian replied, cold and flat. “I stopped feeling anything for her long ago.” When I woke, he was gone. All that was left was a familiar bottle of pills on the nightstand. The conversation replayed in my mind as I dry-swallowed a tablet. The bitter pill scraped my throat, and a metallic tang of blood rose in my mouth, just like the wound Sebastian had just carved into my heart. I knew he could be cruel, but I never imagined this. He knew. He knew that if I didn’t have the money in three days, my mother couldn’t have her surgery. And without that surgery, I would lose the only person in the world who truly loved me. And he still left. Tears fell, hot and silent. I forced myself up, got dressed, and checked out of the hotel. The moment I stepped outside, Lila’s call came through. Her voice was a needle, sharp and triumphant, piercing my ear. “I heard you were begging Sebastian for money for your mother’s surgery.” A cruel laugh. “Too bad he’ll never give it to you. You’re not worthy.” “He’d rather spend five million on a mausoleum for my dead puppy than waste a single cent on you. Got it?” Five million. The exact amount my mother needed. In Sebastian’s eyes, was my mother’s life now worth less than Lila’s dead dog? The world went dark at the edges, and my knees buckled. It took several long minutes before I could hail a cab to the Crawford estate. The last time I was here, I’d run into Sebastian, three years after our breakup. He had watched, his eyes cold and distant, as Lila and my stepmother, Veronica, the cuckoos who had stolen my nest, humiliated me. I should have known then. He was playing with me from the very start. He was never going to help me. My timing was terrible. It was dinnertime. The happy little family of three sat at the dining table, their laughter echoing in the grand hall, leaving me to stand by the door like a stray. Once, this had been my life, too. Lila pointed at me with her fork, a smirk on her face. “Wow, you didn’t waste any time. Calling you wasn’t enough? My dad and your mom have been divorced for ages. Don’t you have any shame, still coming here for money?” The man who was once my loving father didn’t even look at me. Veronica, no longer the fawning woman who used to flatter my mother, radiated the smugness of new money. She patted her daughter’s hand in a mock chiding. “Now, now, Lila. How can you speak that way? Sienna is your sister.” “I don’t have a sister that shameless!” Lila snapped, turning away in disgust. Years ago, those words would have shattered me. But I had endured too much pain since then. Hearing them now didn’t bring the same crushing despair I felt when I first saw my father in bed with Veronica. All that was left was a heart already broken into dust. A cold wind whipped through the open doorway, and my legs, weak from a day of kneeling—metaphorically and literally—began to tremble. I took a step forward, about to plead my case one more time, when Lila shot up from her chair, her eyes sparkling with delight. “Sebastian! I thought you said you couldn’t make it!” The sharp click of expensive leather shoes on the marble floor and a man’s mocking voice sounded behind me at the same time. “You said there was a good show.” Lila hooked her arm through Sebastian’s and sauntered over to me. She pointed, her voice dripping with scorn. “The show is right here!” she announced. “I told you she’d be back, begging for more!” “Sienna, you must be kicking yourself, right? To think you dumped Sebastian for money, and now look at him. But hey, thanks for throwing him away. It gave me my chance.” Lila prattled on, and Sebastian’s gaze on me grew colder and colder, as if we were trapped in the memory of that day five years ago. But that wasn’t how it happened. Not at all. I never abandoned Sebastian. He was the one who abandoned me. 2 Seven years ago, to make a place for Veronica and Lila in our home, my father used every dirty trick he could think of. He not only forced my mother and me out with nothing but also orchestrated the ruin of her music academy. Her reputation was destroyed, and she was saddled with millions in debt. And right then, she got sick. To pay off the debts as fast as possible, I dropped out of college. I worked from dawn till dusk, a chaotic blur of jobs. I went from the pampered Crawford heiress whose hands had never known a day of work to a girl juggling eight part-time gigs. That’s when I met Sebastian. I found him on the streets, another soul cast out, and took him in. He was the Blackwoods’ illegitimate son, despised by everyone. People humiliated him just to curry favor with his legitimate older brother. Two miserable souls, we found each other. One desperate for money for medicine, the other desperate for respect. During the day, he delivered food, and I worked my jobs. At night, we’d huddle together in our cramped 200-square-foot apartment, pooling the cash we’d earned. Sebastian gave every penny to me. His dreams could wait, he’d said. My mother’s health was what mattered most. On my twenty-third birthday, he bought me a teddy bear cake I’d been eyeing for months. As I made a wish, he slipped a ring onto my finger. He promised he would marry me before my next birthday. I waited, my heart full of joy, to become his bride. Instead, it was his biological father who showed up. He offered me a check to leave Sebastian. I refused. So he sent thugs to trash my mother’s hospital room and threatened the staff into discharging her. Seeing my mother lying in a hallway, writhing in pain, I finally broke. I was terrified. I called Sebastian, but he didn’t answer. When I finally found him, he was having a candlelit dinner with Lila. He knew exactly who she was. He knew she was the daughter of the woman who had destroyed my family. And still, he personally fed her a piece of steak. Under the soft, romantic glow, they looked like a perfect couple. Later, I took the check. I packed my things and left the little apartment we had called home for four years. I left him only a single note. Get out. I’m done with you. I thought that was the end of our story. Until now, when we were face to face once more. He stroked Lila’s hair, his eyes full of a tenderness that was once reserved for me. Seeing it now, I no longer felt the thousand daggers piercing my heart. I was numb. I curled my lips into a hollow smile, my words sharp and precise. “In that case, I wish Miss Crawford and Mr. Blackwood a swift marriage and a lifetime of happiness.” Lila preened. “About time you showed some sense. Sebastian and I are getting engaged soon. Don’t forget to come.” She stepped aside, took out her wallet, and pulled out a few hundred-dollar bills. Just as she was about to throw them at me, Sebastian stopped her hand. His eyes were simmering with a cold anger. “Lila, darling,” he purred, “money isn’t that easy to earn. One has to give something in return, don’t you think?” My fists clenched, my nails digging into my palms. Lila, catching his meaning, put the money away. Instead, she had someone bring down her violin. “Why don’t you perform for us? I’ve always wanted to hear what a city-level champion sounds like.” She pulled Sebastian back to the table. The four of them sat there, chatting idly about the upcoming engagement party as if I were a hired performer. I thought of my mother. If she knew I was using the skill she so lovingly taught me to entertain Veronica and Lila, she would be devastated. But what did it matter? All I wanted was for her to be safe. She was the only family I had left. I would do anything for her. Anything. Taking a deep breath, I swallowed the lump in my throat. I picked up the expensive instrument and settled it on my shoulder. 3 I hadn’t touched a violin in five years. My technique was rusty, clumsy. But Lila was determined to humiliate me; she didn’t care how well I played. An hour later, my vision swam with black spots, and my knees nearly gave out. Lila finally, mercifully, called a stop. “And that’s supposed to be city-level talent?” she sneered. “I heard your mother taught you herself. How disappointing. You’re an insult to my ears.” She threw the cash at my face. The bills fluttered down as she turned to whine to Veronica about something. I pressed my lips together into a thin line and slowly knelt to pick up the scattered money. In the distance, I could hear my father laughing at something Lila said. A cold sweat dripped down my forehead. Suddenly, a polished leather shoe appeared in my vision, pressing down hard on the last hundred-dollar bill. Sebastian’s voice, laced with contempt, rained down on me. “Sienna. Have you no shame?” I looked up, my voice low enough for only him to hear. “And you have shame, Mr. Blackwood? A man who fools around with his fiancée’s sister?” I yanked the bill out from under his shoe. Wobbling to my feet, I clutched the money and walked out of that house. A light rain was falling outside. I ignored the cold sting of the drops on my skin and quickened my pace. My phone rang. It was Mom. The moment I answered, her gentle voice washed away some of the chill in my soul. “Sienna, darling. Was it a busy day? You didn’t come by the hospital.” My eyes burned. I fought to keep the tremor out of my voice. “Yes, I had to work late.” I forced a brightness I didn’t feel. “Mom, I have the money for your hospital bills.” She was silent for a moment. “Sienna… maybe we should just… stop the treatments? I don’t want to be a burden to you anymore…” “Don’t say that!” I cut her off, my voice finally breaking. “Mom, don’t you ever say that. You are not a burden to me.” “You have to live a long, long life. You have to be there on my wedding day, you hear me?” I could hear her start to cry on the other end. “Okay… okay, my love…” she sobbed. “Mommy will live to see her Sienna get married and have children!” Just then, a black sedan with a license plate of all eights screeched to a halt right in front of me. I stumbled back, and my phone clattered into a puddle. The window rolled down. Sebastian’s eyes raked over my drenched form, and a cruel smirk twisted his lips. “Thinking about getting married?” He dragged me into the car and told the driver to park directly in front of the Crawford estate’s main gate. Through the window, I could see Lila swinging on a hammock on her second-floor balcony. I couldn’t even imagine what would happen if she saw this, if she told Veronica. What would they do to me? I didn’t care about my own fate. But my mother… what would happen to my mother? The blood drained from my face. I hissed, my voice low and furious. “Sebastian, are you insane?!” He shoved my head down, his voice calm with a terrifying, wild edge. “Didn’t you just say I had no shame? Good. Let me show you what shameless really looks like.”

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Three years after our divorce, I reunited with Caleb on the streets of Seattle. I was a volunteer handing out cold medicine, and he was a homeless man who had fallen below the poverty line. Ironically, our divorce… Was over a cooking pot. “Twice a day, two pills each time.” I handed him the medicine, my tone as calm as if talking to a stranger. Caleb’s eyes turned red. “Lily, you still hate me.” I didn’t look up, continuing to distribute the medicine. “This medicine costs $10. It’s cheap. But back then, it forced me to sell my plasma.” “Caleb, how can I not hate you?” Chapter 1 I spoke of hate so lightly. Behind me, Caleb froze, silent. After a long time, I heard fading footsteps. I looked back. Caleb’s thin figure was swallowed by Seattle’s gray, cold rain. “Lily, you know that homeless guy?” A gentle touch on my arm. It was Tara, my junior from college. I withdrew my gaze and nodded. “Yeah. My ex-husband.” Tara gasped, unable to suppress her surprise. “Ex… ex-husband?” “Lily, how could you marry a homeless man?” I shook my head, handing out the last packet of medicine. I explained: “He wasn’t like this when I met him.” “We’re done here. The rain is getting heavier, let’s head back to campus.” On the way, seeing Tara’s hesitant curiosity, I smiled helplessly. I started talking about my past with Caleb intermittently. It was a cliché campus love story. After graduation, he was a software engineer in Silicon Valley, and I was an actuary at an investment bank. Good income. We rented a nice apartment in a safe neighborhood. In my plan, we would own a home in five years, get married, have a cute baby, and become one of the lit windows in the city. Tara listened, her frown deepening. “That sounds like a happy life. Why did you divorce?” “Did Caleb cheat?” I pressed down her clenched fist and explained: “No. He didn’t cheat, and neither did I.” “We divorced because of a pot.” Tara’s eyes widened, thinking I was joking. Maybe, it was more than just a pot. Three years ago, on a rainy night just like this. I asked Caleb to stop by Macy’s on his way home from work and buy a new pot. The landlord’s old non-stick pan had lost almost all its coating. I was responsible for grocery shopping, planning to cook a fancy dinner for our anniversary. In my imagination—the pot would be bubbling, Caleb would sniff and say “Smells good,” and we would talk about the future over soup. Maybe buying our own house next year, or getting a cat. But when the door opened, Caleb was holding a new camera, waving at me frantically: “Babe, look at this!” “I paid extra to snag it! Limited edition!” I stared at the camera, stunned for a few seconds. The plastic bags cut deep red marks into my hands, stinging with numbness. I asked subconsciously: “Where’s the pot?” Caleb seemed stumped. But then he smiled, nonchalant: “It’s just a pot. Macy’s isn’t going bankrupt, we can buy it anytime.” “But this! If I missed it, it’s gone! Isn’t a camera more romantic than a pot?” “By the way, I saw we had some money left in our joint account, so I bought tickets. Go pack, we’re taking this new camera to Iceland to chase the Aurora!” I didn’t speak. I just put down the grocery bags. Silently took out my phone and checked our joint account. Balance: $0.41. We couldn’t even pay the water bill this month. Caleb’s excited voice droned on: “Babe, listen. This camera has insane ISO, our Aurora photos will be grain-free. We can print them out and stick them on the fridge…” A familiar sense of powerlessness washed over me. I felt so tired. For three years, Caleb was always like this. He lived in the moment. If he wanted something, he got it now, even if it meant maxing out credit cards. While I wanted a future I could plan for, a future that could withstand risks. I looked up at him, still excitedly playing with the new camera. Suddenly, I realized. Caleb and I were on different paths. “Let’s get a divorce.” Chapter 2 Click. The camera in Caleb’s hand hit the table corner. He looked at me blankly: “Divorce?” “Why? Just because I didn’t buy that pot? Or because I bought tickets to Iceland without asking? Lily, over such trivial things?” They were trivial things. But a floor full of trivialities is enough to break a person. “Caleb, I told you many times.” “I don’t want to live like this. I don’t want our account balance to be single digits every time. I don’t want to live on credit cards. I don’t want to keep moving from rental to rental.” “Being with you is exhausting.” Caleb looked like he heard the biggest joke, raising his voice to argue: “Exhausting? I work hard every day. I want to show you the most beautiful scenery, record our life with the best lens. And that tires you?” “Yes! That’s exactly what tires me!” Three years of bitterness exploded. I couldn’t help but shout. I opened the Notes app on my phone, scrolled to the top, and turned the screen to Caleb: “Caleb, do you remember this?” It was a simple entry: Goal: Down Payment. Current Total: $47,218 Progress: 21.2% Last update: Three years ago, the afternoon we first saw that little condo. Caleb’s eyes flickered. “You said you wanted to give us a home.” “My overtime pay, every coffee money I saved, all my savings went in there. But do you remember where that money went?” I clicked on a screenshot of an expired travel booking. “First month after marriage, you maxed out the credit card for a ‘North Pole Photography Tour.’ Your paycheck was delayed, you couldn’t pay the card, and we almost missed rent. We used that money.” I scrolled through electronic receipts one by one. “And this. Last year, that ‘Skydiving Experience Camp’ you insisted on. We used our emergency fund. You even spent an extra five thousand on new gear.” “And two months ago. We finally saved a bit. You traded the car for a performance car on loan. You said you wanted a novel driving experience.” “Caleb, have you ever thought about our future?” His lips moved, but no sound came out. He just lowered his head silently. “Every time we go grocery shopping, I compare prices and calculate weight. You stand there scrolling on your phone, impatiently telling me to just grab whatever, it’s just a few bucks!” “I suggested taking classes to learn new skills because the job market is bad. You said it’s a waste of money, then turned around and bought a new lens.” “I budgeted for months, and you spent hundreds on games without blinking.” … My accusations seemed to ignite Caleb’s anger. He ruffled his hair irritably. “Lily, can you stop being so realistic!” “You only see pots and pans, rent and bills. If life is just this, what’s the point? I just want our life to have meaning.” Two tears fell powerlessly from my eyes. “Meaning?” “But your ‘meaning’ left us unable to pay the water bill this month.” Caleb’s face turned pale with anger. “Money!” “Money again! You always talk about money!” “We can earn more money, but some opportunities…” I interrupted Caleb. I didn’t want to continue this exhausting argument. “Three whole years! Every time I said I wanted to save for a down payment, you said ‘renting is better, more freedom.’ Every time I was anxious about the uncertain future, you said ‘why worry, just be happy now’.” “Caleb, I want a home. You can’t give it to me.” He was pinned in place by my words, chest heaving, unable to find a rebuttal. Only our heavy breathing remained in the room. I looked at this man I loved for three years. The carefree spirit that once attracted me… Now seemed like a refusal to grow up. I turned my head and saw his packed suitcase in the corner. My intense emotions suddenly subsided. I looked at Caleb: “Make a choice.” “Go chase your Aurora, or stay and face the utility bills with me?” Chapter 3 The door closed behind him. Caleb left. I stood there numbly for two seconds before coming back to reality. I found a lawyer’s number and dialed. “Hello, I’d like you to draft a divorce agreement ASAP.” “We have no joint assets, only some debts to split. The sooner the better, thanks.” Hanging up, the rain outside seemed heavier. My breathing became hot and rapid. Maybe it was the rain I caught outside the supermarket, or the reaction after the emotional roller coaster. I dragged my heavy feet to the bedroom. Temperature: 101.3°F. Fever. After searching for ages, I only found one expired Tylenol. I didn’t care. I swallowed it with cold water, praying the fever would break after sleep. But it was worse than I thought. In the middle of the night, I woke up in pain. My body felt like a burning volcano. This won’t do. I was delirious from the fever. My instinctive reaction was to call Caleb. Beep. Beep. Beep. Only when the busy tone sounded for the third time did my brain sluggishly realize. Caleb should be on a plane to Iceland. How could he answer? I laughed dryly, making my throat hurt more. Laughing at myself for being so feverish I still relied on him. I thought of my colleagues. I didn’t want to trouble anyone, but in this situation, I had to be thick-skinned. But the receiver only played a cold mechanical voice: “Sorry, your service has been suspended due to non-payment. Please recharge immediately to restore service.” Suspended? I tried to pay. But looking at the payment page… Where could I get money? Our account had $0.41. I couldn’t even afford the cheapest plan. Phone service and data were bundled. No phone meant no internet. I couldn’t even send a distress signal. I had to save myself. Luckily, the offline map still worked. I squinted, searching laboriously. The nearest 24-hour ER was 3 miles away. Not too far to drive. I struggled to the garage and turned on the light. Empty. I remembered sluggishly. Caleb took the car for mods yesterday. I suggested renting a car as backup since we lived in the suburbs. Caleb shook his head immediately: “Bus and subway are right there, why waste money? I’m just changing the exhaust pipe, it’s fast. Back tomorrow.” “What could happen? Don’t worry about useless things.” But now, no car. I stood there, shivering, unable to stand steady. If I kept burning up, I might die at home. No. I have to go to the hospital. Using all my strength, I found the thickest down jacket, put on two pairs of pants, pulled up my socks, and wrapped a scarf around my neck and face, trying to trap a little heat. Couldn’t hold an umbrella, so I wore a raincoat. Opening the door, Seattle at 3:30 AM was like a giant wet refrigerator. The cold soaked into my bones. Every step felt like walking on clouds, dizzying. I kept my head down, daring not to stop. Suddenly, dirty shoes appeared in front of me, blocking my way. I looked up sluggishly. Three men. Soaked, smelling strongly of alcohol and tobacco. Grinning lewdly at me. I realized something was wrong instantly. I turned to run, but was grabbed. One of them yanked off my hood. “Wearing so much… what goodies are you hiding inside?” I screamed. “No… go away!” But two of them were already dragging me toward the darker woods nearby.

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Three years into treating Julian Vance’s teeth, I got pregnant with his child. The problem? He always thought I was a man. To find the woman from “that night,” he practically turned New York City upside down. When he came to me with another toothache, I asked casually, “Mr. Vance, if you find her, are you planning to keep her as a sugar baby?” He rinsed his mouth and sneered. “Keep her? I’m going to ruin her.” My hand shook so hard I almost dropped the drill. I handed in my resignation the next day and ran for my life. Three months later, I was settling into a small coastal town in Maine. I was struggling to follow a pregnancy recipe for bone broth when a figure pressed against my back. A large, hot hand covered my slight baby bump. Julian’s voice whispered in my ear: “Dr. Sam, didn’t I tell you?” “If I catch her… she’s finished.” Chapter 1 When the morning sickness got so bad I was nearly dehydrated, my anxiety peaked. I didn’t dare go to a hospital. Because a month ago, the person who spent the night with NYC’s business tycoon, Julian Vance, at The Pierre… was me. Julian had hired half the private investigators in the city. I had to ask a friend from another state to mail me a pregnancy test anonymously. Two red lines. Bright red. I’m screwed. I flushed the test down the toilet, destroying the evidence. Usually, my baggy lab coat and chest binder helped me pass as a man. But if my belly started growing, how could I hide it? I collapsed on the sofa in the staff lounge for half an hour until the door was shoved open. Julian Vance walked in. A bespoke suit accentuated his broad shoulders and long legs, but his handsome face was dark as thunder. His assistant followed, familiar with the routine: “Dr. Sam, Mr. Vance’s tooth is acting up again.” I cursed internally but plastered on my professional fake smile. After all, I was just an employee, and Julian was the clinic’s biggest investor. He lay on the dental chair, loosening his tie irritably. “Be gentle. It hurts like hell.” I turned on the overhead light. Under the glare, his flawless face looked a bit pale. “Pulpitis. Acute flare-up. You need a root canal.” He grunted and closed his eyes. The anesthesia kicked in. I started working. The room was silent, save for the clicking of instruments. Suddenly, he opened his eyes. “Dr. Sam, did you lose anything at The Pierre recently?” My probe almost punctured his gums. “No. Why do you ask, Mr. Vance?” He caught my split-second stiffness and smirked coldly. “I found something interesting.” He signaled his assistant to hand over a velvet pouch. Inside was a small, iris-shaped ear stud. I bought it with my first scholarship in college. Because of my “male” persona, I never wore jewelry. I only kept this small stud in my right ear cartilage, hidden by my hair. That night… was too chaotic. I was about to relax when he added slowly, “This is a custom piece from a niche designer. One of a kind.” Cold sweat trickled down my back. I forced myself to stay calm. “Just an earring. Probably a knockoff.” “Is it?” He stared at me, eyes sharp. “I have my team checking every custom jewelry record in the city.” I looked at him and tested the waters. “Mr. Vance, you’re going to such lengths… if you find her, are you planning a sugar baby arrangement?” “Sugar baby?” Julian looked like he heard the joke of the century. He curled his lip, staring at me gloomily. “A woman who dares to scheme against me…” “I’ll make her wish she were dead.” Chapter 2 I’ve been working at this elite dental clinic for three years. Three years ago, my dad’s company went bankrupt, leaving an eight-figure debt. He jumped off a roof. He left me and my mom with nothing but debt collectors. To pay them off, I gave up my residency at a public hospital and accepted an offer from this private clinic. High salary, high commission. The price? I had to be a “man.” In this prejudiced industry, male doctors were more easily accepted by the ultra-rich clientele. Looking at the astronomical debt, I agreed without hesitation. I cut my hair, wore a binder, and kept my mask glued to my face. I became “Dr. Sam.” Before me, Julian had fired five dentists. He was picky and impossible. The director pushed me forward as a last resort. Surprisingly, I lasted the longest. We coexisted peacefully. I saw him as a walking ATM; he saw me as a reliable mechanic. Until that absurd gala a month ago. The next morning, I woke up in a messy king-sized bed. The man who usually lay in my dental chair was lying naked next to me. Terrified, I grabbed my clothes and ran. I thought it was a one-time accident with no consequences. But of all the times… I got pregnant. The next morning, I was vomiting my guts out. My assistant’s relentless calls dragged me back to the clinic. Julian was sitting in my office, face black. I took a deep breath and walked in. “Mr. Vance, sorry. Family emergency.” He looked up, eyes dark enough to drown in. He didn’t believe a word. He stood up and grabbed my arm, his grip crushing. “Do you know how long I’ve waited?” Julian had a temper. And since I was a “man,” he had no reservations. I stumbled. In the struggle, his hand brushed against my chest. Through the thin shirt… the softness was undeniable. We both froze. I realized I forgot my binder because the morning sickness was too severe. I was instantly sober. Julian frowned, confusion flashing in his eyes. “What… is that? So soft?” I quickly pulled a hot water bottle from my jacket and held it up. “Stomach ache. Using it for heat.” The water bag sloshed. It felt similar enough. He seemed to buy it, but his face remained dark. Back in the lounge, my legs gave out. My phone buzzed. Bank notification. [Deposit: $50,000. Bonus.] With my savings, I was this close to paying off the debt. I slumped in the chair, staring at the ceiling. I couldn’t live in fear anymore. My belly would grow. I couldn’t hide it. The only option was to run. Chapter 3 From that day on, I started “Quiet Quitting.” “Mr. Vance, I think to match your status, we should replace this wisdom tooth with solid gold.” Julian’s face went blank. “…” After the treatment, he blocked me in the office. “Dr. Sam, have I been too lenient with you?” I spun in my chair, eyebrow raised. “If you’re unhappy, Mr. Vance, feel free to switch doctors.” Silence. Julian stared at me, anger burning in his eyes. I prayed he would fire me on the spot. But he took a deep breath and hissed through his teeth. “I. Will. Not.” Then he stormed out. Great. Another day of successfully pissing off Julian Vance. I wanted him to think I was unethical and hopeless. I wanted him to fire me so I could get the severance pay. But he wouldn’t crack. I escalated. I claimed equipment failure. I claimed “bad vibes.” I turned the clinic upside down. The director lectured me daily. I ignored him. Julian’s face got darker every day. One day, after I suggested pulling all his teeth for dentures, he stormed in. I was vomiting over the sink, pale as a ghost. He marched up and grabbed my wrist. “What the hell is wrong with you?!” Dizzy from being shaken, I couldn’t hold it back. I threw up all over his six-figure custom suit. Blargh. Awkward silence. Julian’s face was darker than the bottom of a pot. I raised a weak hand. “I swear… I didn’t vomit because you’re disgusting…” He looked at the mess on his chest, then at my pale face. His anger faded into something complex. “Go to the hospital,” he said, voice low. My heart stopped. “No!” I refused instantly. “Just ate something bad. I’ll rest.” Go to the hospital? And expose the baby? No thanks. But Julian was stubborn. “You look terrible. Go check it out.” His tone allowed no refusal. I was sweating bullets. Just then, my friend’s voice message played loudly over the Bluetooth speaker. “Sam! Did you get the abortion pills I mailed? That stuff is dangerous, think it over!” Chapter 4 Dead silence. My heart pounded so loud it was terrifying. It’s over. I looked up at Julian stiffly. The complex emotion on his face vanished, replaced by icy scrutiny. “Abortion pills?” He tasted the words, cold and sharp. “Dr. Sam, how many surprises do you have for me?” My brain spun, desperately looking for an excuse. “It’s for a friend!” I shouted. “She… she met a scumbag. She had no choice!” I even squeezed out two tears, looking at him with practiced pity. Julian narrowed his eyes, locking onto me, judging my truthfulness. After a long time, he smiled. A smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Is that so? You’re so helpful.” He took out his phone and called his assistant right in front of me. “Check Dr. Sam’s social circle. Specifically female friends. See who’s in ‘trouble’.” He hung up and pocketed the phone. “Dr. Sam, I better not find anything.” “Or I don’t mind making your ‘friend’ disappear with you.” He took off the soiled jacket, threw it in the trash, and walked out. When the door closed, I collapsed. Run. I have to run now. That night, I packed my bags and took a taxi to the station. I bought a ticket for the first train heading north. Maine. No destination, just away from Julian Vance. As the train moved, watching the city lights fade, I finally exhaled. Goodbye, Julian.

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1 The day I found out I was the illegitimate daughter of the country’s richest billionaire, I rushed over to his mansion to meet my dad. When I got there, I found ninety-eight other girls lined up, all waiting to do the same thing. It turned out the billionaire’s only son and heir had recently passed away. To find a successor for his hundred-billion-dollar empire, he had tracked down all his secret daughters. Now, he was holding a competition to find the best of us. Feeling completely out of my league, I was about to turn around and leave with my head hung low. Suddenly, a glowing banner unfurled in my vision: [Don’t you dare leave, sweetie! Your mother is basically the Underworld’s new queen now, and I can help you win this whole thing.] [Remember your old rival from the orphanage? She’s one of them. If you walk away now, that hundred-billion-dollar fortune will fall right into her lap.] My head snapped around, and sure enough, I saw her face. Veronica. A decade ago, she locked me in a pigsty and stole my chance at being adopted, condemning me to ten more years of misery. Hatred flooded my heart. Fine. I’ll listen to my mom. I’m not leaving. That hundred-billion-dollar fortune is going to be mine. … Veronica recognized me at the same instant. “Zoe? What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be back in the pigsty where you belong?” She looked me up and down, a sneer twisting her perfectly made-up face. “Don’t tell me you’re here to steal something. A beggar like you doesn’t even deserve to breathe this air.” Her designer clothes were so bright they hurt my eyes. I clenched my fists, ready to fire back a response. Just then, my billionaire father, Alistair Finch, walked slowly to the top of the grand staircase and looked down at us all. “All these years, I have failed in my duty as a father. For that, I am truly sorry.” “As a small compensation, I’ve prepared one hundred thousand dollars for each of you. Anyone who wants it can register with my butler and collect the money.” The villa erupted. “Thank you, Dad!” “This is perfect! I desperately need the money! You’re the best, Dad!” As a swarm of women rushed toward the butler, Veronica scoffed beside me. “A bunch of greedy fools. And they think they have what it takes to compete with me for the inheritance?” After stealing my adoption, Veronica had been raised in wealth, living a life of luxury. A hundred grand was nothing to her. But to me, a girl who survived on stale bread, that money was a lifeline. Seeing my own feet start to move toward the queue, my mother’s message flashed urgently before my eyes: [Honey, this is the first elimination round.] [Anyone who takes the money is considered shortsighted. They’ll be disqualified immediately.] [Those who refuse the money prove they have the ambition and vision to enter the real competition.] I froze. I snuck a glance up at Alistair. Just as my mom said, he was watching the line of girls with a disappointed frown, shaking his head slightly. The butler’s voice then cut through the noise. “To be clear, anyone who accepts the hundred thousand dollars must also sign this document, formally waiving all rights to the inheritance.” Without a second of hesitation, I backed away from the line. The agreement, however, didn’t deter most of them. Seeing the majority of the girls eagerly sign away their future for a quick payout, Alistair let out a frustrated sigh. His gaze then shifted to those of us who remained. As my eyes met his for a brief moment, another banner appeared: [See? Mom wouldn’t lie to you.] [Just trust me and do as I say. I never got a single penny from that deadbeat while I was alive. You have to make him pay for both of us.] A moment later, Alistair’s deep voice announced, “Twenty of you have chosen to forego the money. Please follow the guards upstairs.” As I fell in line behind the others, Veronica gave me a stunned look. “Zoe, you’re an illegitimate daughter too? So that makes us… half-sisters?” I ignored her. Because Alistair was announcing the rules for the first official round of the competition. “To be my heir, you must possess exceptional financial and business acumen.” “I will provide each of you with ten thousand dollars in seed money. In one hour, the ten people with the most capital remaining will advance to the next stage. You will be my potential successors.” 2 The moment Alistair finished speaking, the other nineteen girls whipped out their phones and sprang into action. “My mother is a CEO. I’ve been learning about business since I was a child. This is in the bag!” “I have a Ph.D. in finance. I know exactly how to make money from money.” They were all in their element. Some immediately started trading stocks. Others dove into investment fund websites. One even began drafting a startup proposal on the spot, using the ten thousand as her initial investment. Another girl cleverly jumped on the social media trend and started a live stream. “Broadcasting live from the billionaire’s heir selection! Follow me for a real inside look at a high-stakes family drama!” I just stared at the debit card a guard had pressed into my hand, feeling a wave of helplessness wash over me. I never even finished high school. The orphanage forced me out to sell trinkets on the street just to survive. How could I possibly compete with these educated, cultured, brilliant women? Veronica saw the panic on my face and laughed, her voice dripping with scorn. “Everyone else is busy making moves, and you don’t even have a phone. You really think you have a chance against me?” She wasn’t just looking down on me. She looked down on everyone. “I graduated from a top business school. When it comes to making money, no one here can touch me.” She immediately launched a two-pronged attack, buying stocks with one hand while writing a detailed investment plan with the other, ready to present it to Alistair at the end of the hour. Meanwhile, my only source of encouragement was my mother’s spectral pop-ups: [Honey, have you ever heard the saying? There’s nothing more dangerous than a rich kid with a business plan.] [Let them run wild. In this round, you can win by doing absolutely nothing.] [Even if you have to fake it, you need to project an aura of absolute confidence!] She added another boost: [You’ve been out in the real world since you were a kid. You’ve seen the best and worst of people. When it comes to reading a room, none of them can compare to you.] [Use this time to observe your billionaire father. It might come in handy later.] The thought of my mom, even in the Underworld, working so hard to help me, filled me with a new sense of purpose. I retreated to a quiet corner and began to study Alistair, trying to decipher his personality and temperament. While the other girls scrambled with their various schemes, my focus remained entirely on him. My unusual calm and stillness eventually caught his attention. He sent the butler over to me. “Why aren’t you doing anything?” the butler asked. Following my mom’s guidance, I started spinning a tale. “Protecting a fortune is far more difficult than building one,” I said, my voice steady. “In today’s volatile market, I believe a conservative strategy is the wisest. My goal is to protect the wealth my father worked so hard to create.” Just as the words left my mouth, a scream pierced the air. “My stocks just crashed! How is this possible?” Someone else kicked over a chair in fury. “Scammers! This whole investment platform is a scam! They converted my money into some worthless crypto and ran!” “Who shut down my live stream? I just paid for a traffic boost!” Amid the chaos, my eyes met Alistair’s, and I offered him a small, knowing smile. A barely perceptible gleam of approval lit up his eyes, though he said nothing. The hour passed quickly. My strategy of doing nothing had actually worked. I placed fifth and advanced to the next round. Mom! Thank you! I’m one step closer to that hundred-billion-dollar fortune! As for Veronica, she had managed to turn her ten thousand into fifteen. Her business proposal also received high praise from Alistair. She advanced in first place, earning the venomous glares of the other girls. As we followed the butler upstairs again, Veronica deliberately shoved me. “You just got lucky, Zoe. It’s not too late to give up and walk away now.” “Because once I become the official heir, I will make it my mission to destroy you.” I shot her a cold look, making a silent vow. When I inherit that fortune, I will make her pay for everything she did to me. We were led into a lavish dining room. To my surprise, the butler pulled out the chair at the head of the table and gestured for me to sit. “Miss Zoe, this seat is for you.” I didn’t think much of it at first. But just as I started to move, I noticed Veronica staring at me with a smirk, as if she was waiting for me to make a fool of myself. I immediately froze, a sense of caution washing over me. 3 At the same time, my mother’s banner flashed into existence: [Honey, that’s the host’s seat! Your father’s seat! You absolutely cannot sit there!] [This isn’t about eating. It’s a test of etiquette. He’s seeing if you have the grace to belong in his world.] [Pay attention from now on. Do exactly as I say!] A shiver went down my spine. I quickly waved my hands at the butler. “Sir, that seat is for my father. When will he be joining us?” The butler’s smile was full of approval. In my peripheral vision, I saw Veronica grind her teeth in disappointment. I didn’t dare get cocky. My full attention was on my mother’s instructions. The butler assigned everyone a seat. I remained standing until Alistair entered and sat down. Only then did I take my seat, the last one to do so. My mom’s tips kept coming: [The spout of the teapot should never point at the host. When you get the chance, you have to fix it.] [When pouring wine, fill the glass. When pouring tea, only fill it partway.] [When the fish is served, the head must be pointed toward Alistair.] [Do not, under any circumstances, pick up your silverware before the host does. And never leave your spoon sticking upright in your soup. Got it?] With my mom’s help, I dominated the dinner. One of the girls rushed to pour tea for Alistair. I said nothing, but the moment she set the teapot down, I quickly and discreetly turned it so the spout was pointing at my own seat. Alistair’s expression didn’t change, but I saw a flicker of appreciation in his eyes. When it was time to pour the wine, I used the skills I’d learned as a waitress to pour a perfect, full glass without spilling a single drop. “To your health, Father,” I said, my voice clear and warm. I had a whole repertoire of toasts ready, thanks to years of listening to customers in diners. When the butler brought out the main course, a whole roasted fish, I intercepted the platter and placed it on the table, carefully positioning it so the head was aimed directly at Alistair. “May our fortunes always be as plentiful as this feast,” I added. Veronica couldn’t believe how well I was performing. She was clenching her jaw, practically vibrating with the desire to challenge me. But at a formal dinner, she couldn’t make a scene. All she could do was watch me shine. I, in turn, watched Alistair, memorizing his every micro-expression. Between my observations and my mother’s intel, I was quickly piecing together a complete picture of his habits and personality. I navigated the meal with the grace of a seasoned socialite. After dinner, as the butler led us downstairs, I noticed that our group was smaller. Five more competitors were gone. The girl who had pointed the teapot at Alistair, the one who started eating early, even one who had spun the lazy Susan too aggressively, had all been eliminated. They were forced to sign the waiver and left with their hundred thousand dollars, their dreams of a billion-dollar inheritance shattered. Veronica jabbed me in the back. “See that, Zoe? That’s going to be you.” “Don’t think you’re so special just because you showed off a few cheap tricks. I’m about to show you what happens when you overestimate yourself.” I was done being timid. I shot back, my voice as cold as ice, “You should worry about yourself, Veronica.” “Because if I win, the very first thing I’m going to do is find you a nice, cozy pigsty to live in.” “You bitch!” Veronica’s face turned crimson. She raised her hand to slap me. Suddenly, Alistair stopped walking and turned to face us, his eyes scanning each of our faces. “Before we proceed to the next round, I have a very serious question for you all.” “I expect you to think carefully before giving me your official answer.” 4 I knew instantly. This was the next test. Everyone held their breath, waiting. “If, one day, my business empire was facing a catastrophic crisis,” Alistair began, his voice grave, “and the only way to save it was for you to marry a wealthy, brain-dead man who could not produce an heir… would you do it?” “And I want you to be very clear,” he added, his gaze intense. “This is not a hypothetical. This is something that could very well happen.” Before the silence could even settle, Veronica stepped forward. “Of course I would! I would do anything to help you, Father. No sacrifice is too great!” “And I believe that with my abilities, I could not only save the company through this marriage but also leverage my husband’s family resources to elevate our own empire to new heights!” Her passionate declaration broke the dam. The other girls rushed to pledge their loyalty. “As your daughter, it is my duty and my honor to secure our family’s legacy through marriage. I would die for our family’s glory!” “A brain-dead man with no heirs is even better! That way, I wouldn’t have to bear children for his family. I could have a child of my own, one who would carry our family name!” For a moment, the scene was almost heartwarming, a group of devoted daughters surrounding their beloved father. My mom, worried I’d be too slow-witted, sent a frantic message: [Honey, don’t listen to his blustering. This is just a loyalty test.] [Just say what everyone else is saying! Be sweet, flatter him. It’s the safe play!] But as I looked at Alistair’s face, I saw nothing. No emotion, no approval. Just that same, faint, calculating look in his eyes. A seed of doubt sprouted in my mind. Alistair’s reaction felt… off. Was it really as simple as just agreeing? Something felt deeply wrong. I stood there like a statue, my mind racing, trying to understand the real question. My mom was getting impatient: [Zoe, what are you waiting for? Just say yes!] [Use that cleverness you had at the dinner table! Say something charming like Veronica did and win him over.] [I dated that old goat for six months, I know how he operates! He’s always been a sucker for a sweet talker. Hurry up and say it!] No. That’s not right. My mother was wrong. Alistair wasn’t a man who could be easily manipulated. And a pretty speech was definitely not the right answer here. I replayed my brief interactions with him, his subtle expressions, the glint in his eyes. My brain kicked into overdrive. My continued silence drew everyone’s attention. Alistair’s brow furrowed as he stared at me. “Zoe. Is this a difficult question for you to answer?” “Look at your sisters. They all answered without a moment’s hesitation.” Veronica’s face was alight with smug satisfaction. “What’s the matter, country bumpkin? Did you not understand the question?” “Zoe, if I were you, I’d take the hundred grand and run. Save yourself the embarrassment.” The other girls started whispering, all waiting for me to fail. “So much for being the star at dinner. Now we see her for what she really is.” My mom was practically having a panic attack in the afterlife, wishing she could just climb out of the ground and answer for me: [Zoe, are you trying to kill me? Just say it!] [If you just say yes, you can stay in the running for the inheritance!] Everything and everyone was pushing me toward the same, seemingly safe, answer. The air was thick with anticipation. I took a deep breath and, in a voice that rang with conviction, I gave my answer. “I refuse.” Alistair’s face instantly darkened.

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I am a walking disaster magnet. It’s a gift, really. I once helped an old lady cross the street and the rumor mill claimed I was trying to swindle her Social Security check. I was spotted feeding a stray cat outside my apartment, and suddenly I was the neighborhood cat burglar. My reputation was lower than a snake’s belly, so I figured, why polish a turd? I leaned into it, going full tilt as a professional bad guy. Does your family need to split up their assets, but someone’s dragging their feet? Is your elderly parent being manipulated by a greedy cousin? Hire me to come in and raise hell. I take the heat, you split the cash. My abrasive manner and sheer grit made me the local nightmare in a ten-mile radius. Then, the youngest Associate Professor at the city’s top university showed up at my door and asked me to marry him. “The doctor called it ‘Martyr Complex,’ but I call it ‘Total Doormat Syndrome,’” he sighed. “My mother gives away everything she owns. Our family savings are almost gone. I need the most unhinged, unreasonable, hell-on-wheels daughter-in-law in the state to manage her.” My eyes lit up. I rubbed my hands together with pure, unadulterated glee. “Say no more, brother. You just cured my fatigue.” 1 Gordon Hewitt’s handsome, refined face instantly crumpled. He let out a long, weary sigh. He pulled a timid, middle-aged woman out from behind him. She was gentle, soft-spoken, and gave me a faint, almost apologetic smile. “Frankie,” he said, using my chosen name, “I brought my mother, Cecilia Hewitt, so you could meet her.” He then pulled out a tattered red savings passbook and handed it to me. “Don’t laugh, but this is literally everything we have left.” I took the book, flipped it open, and my eyeballs nearly popped out of their sockets. “Fifty-seven dollars?” “I make thirty-four bucks a month working part-time at the diner!” I protested. “You’re a university professor. Your salary has to be close to three hundred. How on earth is there only fifty-seven dollars left?” Gordon and his mother both looked at me, their eyes red-rimmed and moist. “Frankie, since my father passed, I’ve been working constantly, traveling for conferences. My mom has been home alone,” Gordon explained. “Every relative, every neighbor, every well-wisher—they all show up. They borrow a little rice today, a little cash tomorrow. They say ‘borrow,’ but they never, ever pay it back.” He paused, voice thick with worry. “I’m being sent on a three-year lecture tour overseas. I need to leave immediately. If I don’t find a tough-as-nails wife to guard the fort, I won’t just come home to an empty house. I suspect my mother will have been sweet-talked into selling herself off for scrap.” I nearly fainted in disbelief. I looked at the handsome, scholarly son and his fragile mother. I sighed, tucking the passbook into my pocket. “I’ll take the job. I can guard the fort for three years. But you have to let me set the terms. I run a wild operation. I am going to make your aunts, uncles, and neighbors miserable. If I scare one of them into an early grave, you can’t get mad.” Gordon jumped to his feet, gripping my hand tightly. “As long as the house is safe and my mother is protected, you can do whatever the hell you want.” My prospective mother-in-law rushed over, tears streaming down her face. “Thank you, Frankie. Thank you for your service.” We came to an agreement, and less than a week later, we were married. On the day we signed the papers, Gordon rushed off to catch his flight. I grabbed my battered suitcase and headed for his house. I reached the front door of the Maplewood Faculty Quarters just as I heard a shrill voice yelling from inside. “Oh, Cecilia, bless your heart, but you’re from an educated family. You’re going to be stingy about two little apples?” I peeked through the crack in the door. A smug, heavyset woman—I’d later know her as Donna Mae, the biggest busybody in the complex—was forcibly prying a net bag of apples out of my new mother-in-law’s hand. My mother-in-law, Cecilia, was pleading softly. “Donna, please, leave me two. I bought them for Gordon’s new wife.” “Don’t be ridiculous! Gordon’s gone overseas! He doesn’t have a new wife,” the woman sneered, stuffing the apples into her apron. “And I heard you bought meat yesterday. Hand that over, too! My little boy, Kevin, is going through a growth spurt!” Oh, hell no. This wasn’t borrowing. This was blatant robbery in a university housing complex. I dropped my suitcase, strode into the room, and snatched the net bag of apples back. Donna Mae froze, then flew into a rage, stabbing a finger toward my face. “Who the hell are you? You stray animal! How dare you steal from me?” I calmly pulled the bright red marriage certificate from my pocket and slapped it hard onto the chipped dining table. “The name is Frankie Hewitt. I am Gordon’s just-married wife,” I announced, my voice low and dangerous. “I’m stealing from you? No. You’re extorting my mother. Give it back.” I slammed her against the wall. “You take one more piece of thread, one more sugar cube, or one more apple from this house, and I will call your boss every single morning until you’re escorted off the property. I’ll make you the neighborhood pariah. Try me.” The air in the room solidified. Cecilia’s eyes were wide, her mouth open enough to swallow an egg. Donna Mae, accustomed to rolling over soft targets like Cecilia, had never encountered a rabid dog like me. Terrified, she wrenched herself free and looked at Cecilia with panicked, accusing eyes. “Cecilia! Look at her! She’s a criminal! Are you sure she’s not lying? Did Gordon really marry this lunatic who just assaulted me? I’m going to call the police!” Cecilia, who had been hiding behind me, finally found her voice, and it was a masterpiece of defiance. “Frankie… she’s not a bad person. She is Gordon’s wife. I consented.” With that official confirmation, I didn’t waste another second. I shoved the slack-jawed Donna Mae out the door. “Get out!” I spat, giving her a look that would curdle milk. “If I ever see you try to steal from this house again, I will break both your legs.” 2 Finally, silence. My mother-in-law was still leaning against the wall, visibly trembling. I helped her sit down, then took a long, hard look around this college professor’s house. Honestly, a rat would cry walking through this place. The large living room had nothing but a broken-legged dining table and a few low stools. Half the curtains were missing, probably borrowed by a relative. “Gordon’s wife… are you hungry?” Cecilia shuffled out of the kitchen, carefully holding a bowl. It was a bowl of pale, yellow custard, with two rock-hard, burnt cornbread muffins next to it. I looked at the custard, then at Cecilia’s bone-thin frame. Was this woman Saint Mary in a past life? She was practically starving but still offering me the last bite of food. “Mom, I’m not hungry. You eat it.” I gently pushed the bowl back, then got straight to business. “Mom, Gordon asked me to find out: Who has borrowed our things?” The very-real-life Saint Cecilia’s eyes welled up again. She turned and came back with a huge stack of crumpled, stained papers. They were IOUs. Dozens of them for cash. Plus, the next-door neighbor, Ms. Thompson, had borrowed the sewing machine for her daughter’s school uniform. Mr.Wayne, who lived downstairs, had borrowed the bicycle for his commute. This wasn’t borrowing; this was running the Hewitt home like a free community supply store. “Mom, you are the personification of ‘If I don’t go to hell, who will?’” I closed the pile of notes, trying to stifle a laugh that was half-amusement, half-rage. I stood up and cracked my knuckles. “Gordon told me before he left: As of today, I run this house.” I met her eye. “First thing tomorrow morning, we’re going collecting. What they took, they’ll cough up. What they ate, they’ll pay for.” The next morning, before the sun was fully up, I dressed in my shabbiest clothes, grabbed a borrowed bullhorn, and pulled my mother-in-law to the gate of the faculty complex. It was peak commuting time. People were streaming past. I planted myself in front of the gate, picked up the bullhorn, and started screaming. “Is that you, Mr. Thompson? Five years ago, you borrowed five hundred dollars from my mother-in-law, Cecilia Hewitt, to build a new extension on your cabin. Is the cabin comfortable? When are you going to repay the money?” “Ms. Davis! Oh, that’s a gorgeous ’74 Schwinn cruiser you’re riding! Your mother borrowed our family bike three years ago, saying you needed it for a short commute. You still haven’t bought your own? Are you holding onto it to pass down to your grandkids?” “Hey, hey, Professor Zhou, don’t walk so fast! You said you desperately needed three hundred dollars last spring. My mother is practically begging for scraps! Is this how an esteemed academic behaves?” My rant turned every named person’s face black as a cast-iron skillet. My mother-in-law watched my performance, deeply impressed, but also terrified. Every time someone tried to object, she would chime in, her eyes swimming with tears: “Frankie is right.” “My daughter-in-law speaks the truth.” “Frankie is not wrong.” The commuters started pointing and whispering. “Isn’t that Professor Hewitt’s mother? She looks so distraught.” “I heard theWaynes owe them a lot. That’s disgusting.” “Five hundred dollars is a huge sum! They’re heartless.” We stood there, a synchronized tag-team of shame, blocking the gate, refusing to let anyone pass. Within two minutes, the families of the debtors started running out, hysterical. “Stop shouting! Stop shouting!” “Cecilia! What in God’s name are you doing?” “Cecilia! We can discuss this privately, can’t we?” “Gordon’s mother! Do you have to cause a scene this early? My face is ruined!” 3 My mother-in-law recoiled, about to apologize. I cut her off, waving the stack of IOUs in the air. “Save the drama! Honor is earned, not given! You owe us money, and you’re going to pay it!” “You pay today, or I’ll go to the university radio station and broadcast this tomorrow!” The debtors looked at the crowd of spectators, gritted their teeth, and rushed back inside, returning with wads of cash that they shoved into Cecilia’s hands. “Take it! Take it and go! You ruined my week!” I let them go one by one after the money was collected. Within ten minutes, we recovered the majority of the debts that had been outstanding for years. Back at home, Cecilia nervously clutched the cash. She was happy, but worried. “Gordon’s wife, are you sure this won’t hurt Gordon’s career? People talk…” I stopped what I was doing and looked her in the eye. “Mom, listen to me.” I spoke slowly and firmly. “If you don’t stand up, people will think you’re a fool, and that will hurt Gordon’s career. Who wants to study under a spineless professor who can’t even hold his own family together? If we’re strong, people will respect Gordon more, not less.” Cecilia was stunned. She nodded, deep in thought. I knew the iron was hot. It was time for the next lesson. The next day, I dragged her to the local market. For Cecilia, this was worse than a firing squad. She had never dared to haggle and would always accept the vendor’s most battered vegetables, offering a grateful smile. We approached the butcher’s stall. The big, burly butcher saw Cecilia coming and didn’t even look up. He expertly sliced a chunk of gristle and straight-up fat—the kind you feed a dog, not a family—from the underside of his block and tossed it on the scale. “Two pounds. One dollar sixty.” Cecilia bit her lip and instinctively reached for her purse. I slapped her hand down, leaning in close, my voice a low, sinister whisper. “Mom, if you buy that piece of garbage meat, I will pull out every single one of those prized orchids your late husband left you and boil them into a broth.” Cecilia instantly stiffened. Those orchids were her most cherished link to her late husband. She guarded them fiercely. Her hand trembling, she finally looked up at the butcher. The butcher slammed his cleaver on the block. “You buying or not? Get a move on! There are people waiting!” I pinched the soft flesh on her waist behind her back. She closed her eyes, and in a voice that seemed to require every ounce of her strength, she finally yelled: “I… I won’t buy this one!” The butcher blinked. Cecilia opened her eyes, saw the crowd watching, and suddenly, she found a strange, hard resolve. “This meat is bad! It’s all fat and lymph nodes! How dare you try to sell this to people?” she demanded, surprisingly loud. “I asked for a lean cut, and I paid for a lean cut! I’m going to… to report you for fraudulent trading!” I stepped up instantly, my voice booming. “Everyone look! They just started letting people open their own businesses, and already they’re trying to rip off the elderly! Selling spoiled meat to a little old lady who can’t speak up! Is this how you repay the community’s trust? If this meat makes someone sick, you’ll be liable!” The butcher panicked, cold sweat beading on his forehead. “Ma’am! Ma’am, please! It was a misunderstanding, a mistake!” He quickly tossed the bad meat into a waste bucket, then frantically cut a gorgeous, fresh piece of tenderloin, throwing in a piece of liver for good measure. “Here! Take this! The best cut! My apologies, take it!” Cecilia held the bright, red piece of tenderloin. As we walked out of the market, her hands were still shaking. I walked beside her, casually cracking sunflower seeds. “Well? Did refusing him kill you?” “Next time someone tries to hand you rotten vegetables, smear them on his face.” Cecilia looked at the meat in her hands, then turned to me, offering a stiff but genuine smile. “No… I understand.” Good, I thought. I need to get her out here to raise hell more often. The old lady has a surprisingly loud voice. We had two days of peace. Then, early one morning, the door was pounded on so hard the frame shook. “Cecilia Hewitt! Are you home? Open up!” I perked up. Well, lookie here. More work. 4 I got dressed and came out just as my mother-in-law was being cornered at the door. This was a bigger circus than I expected. My mother-in-law’s sister-in-law, Lorraine, the greedy sister of Gordon’s late father, had arrived with her entire family—seven people in total, with bags and suitcases. This time, they were after the house. Lorraine’s oldest son, Troy, was getting married. And these moochers had set their sights on the Hewitt’s three-bedroom faculty townhome. Lorraine swept into the living room, her eyes darting around like radar, immediately locking onto the sunny master bedroom. “This sunny room will be perfect for Troy’s honeymoon suite.” She plunked herself down on the sofa, acting like she owned the place. “Cecilia, Gordon is gone for three years. You’re all alone. It’s a waste for you to live in this huge place. That little storage room has good light; Gordon can partition the living room when he gets back.” My mother-in-law went pale, but thanks to my crash course, she managed to stutter out a weak protest. “Lorraine, this house was assigned to Gordon by the university…” “And? Isn’t he still family?” Lorraine’s eyes bulged, and she started spitting. “You’re the oldest sister, like a mother to him! How can you be so cruel? You’d really let your own nephew be a vagrant just to keep an empty room?” A huge, steaming pile of ‘disrespecting the dead’ was thrown at Cecilia. She instantly went silent, nervously rubbing the fabric of her apron. My cheap mother-in-law’s combat power was still a pathetic negative five. “What is all this shouting about?” Just then, Mr. Fitzwilliam, the Associate Dean from our complex, strutted in, hands clasped behind his back. “Ms. Hewitt, I must advise caution on issues of relative abuse and property hoarding. The Dean’s office specifically asked me to investigate this matter!” Lorraine exchanged a knowing glance with Fitzwilliam, then suddenly dropped to the floor and started wailing like a siren. “Sir! Please judge for us! The oldest brother’s family is bullying the younger brother’s family! I can’t live like this! My poor husband! Open your eyes! Your wife is abusing your brother’s family!” Neighbors, hearing the ruckus, started crowding the doorway, pointing and murmuring. Mr. Fitzwilliam stood by the door, radiating self-righteous authority. “Cecilia, I’m telling you, when relatives are in need, you help them. You’re well-off; you don’t need this extra room. Look how distraught you’ve made your sister-in-law!” Fitzwilliam dropped the official hammer, his eyes hard. “If this situation proves to be harassment, we will have to reconsider Professor Hewitt’s tenure track and promotion.” Cecilia’s resolve crumbled entirely. The future of her son—the one thing she lived for—was on the line. She rushed forward to grab Lorraine’s hand, pleading desperately. “I’ll give it to you! I’ll give you the room! Don’t ruin Gordon’s career!” Lorraine gave a cold, victorious smirk, then shoved Cecilia roughly to the floor. Troy, her lazy thug of a son, stepped up and prepared to kick Cecilia. “You old fool! If you’d just given it to us sooner!” As his foot came swinging down toward my mother-in-law, I suddenly erupted. I yanked Cecilia up and rushed, like a maniac, into the back room. A few seconds later, I sprinted back into the living room, holding a red, five-gallon Jerrycan of kerosene. I jumped onto the small stone coffee table in the center of the room, holding the can in one hand and a book of matches in the other. I screamed at the top of my lungs. “No one is leaving alive today!” My shout stunned everyone into silence. “Bullying a widow and her absent son is your idea of strength?” I yelled. “If you try to steal this house, I swear to God I will light this whole faculty complex on fire! I’ll go first!” I unscrewed the kerosene cap and pretended to pour it over my chest. “I want to see who dares to touch a single item that belongs to the Hewitt family today!”

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10 years after breaking up, I found my ex-boyfriend was still offering a heavy reward for my whereabouts. I sneered and swiped the message away. We didn’t break up peacefully. The year we broke up, he got someone else pregnant. And I, because of his mother’s design, also got pregnant by someone else. After he found out, he went crazy and forced abortion pills down my throat. Crying to me: “I only beg you to understand me, born in a wealthy family, I can’t help myself.” “I can give you everything except a title.” His mother said: “Our Old Money family firmly does not accept the Working Class, let alone let the blood of the lower class multiply in our family!” He stood not far away listening, without saying a word. Since then, I disappeared from his world. In a flash of 10 years, he stood in front of me again. His handsome face was more steady and noble than 10 years ago, eye rims red. He said: “I am powerful now, parents can no longer interfere with my feelings.” “Let’s be together again, okay?” I shook my head and refused. He didn’t understand: “Why?” I said calmly: “Because, my husband won’t allow it.” … Chapter 1 He froze, eyes trembling. Pupils appeared especially clear because of a layer of tears. I thought he would completely give up, but heard. “Still the same as 10 years ago, only know how to say ugly words to provoke me.” Julian Hale’s choked voice paused, looking at me with a sudden burning, urgent gaze. “I should also treat you like I did 10 years ago.” Speaking, he strode over. I panicked and stepped back, dodging his hug and forced kiss. 10 years ago, as long as I said ugly words to choke him, he would use a kiss to block my mouth. Until I was almost hypoxic, he would proudly and unsatisfiedly release me. Facing my resisting and alienated actions. He paused, only hesitated for a second, then walked towards me again. I stepped back two steps again, pulling distance between us, voice raised: “Julian Hale!” He stopped. Expectation in the man’s eyes was instantly filled with grievance. “It’s been 10 years, I don’t believe you don’t miss me.” Hehe. I sneered in my heart. As long as the new love is good enough, there is no old love that can’t be forgotten. “That’s your business, in fact, the past is past.” “Things have long changed between us.” My breezy attitude hurt him greatly, he chuckled twice in disbelief. “I can’t get over it!” “I also thought I could forget you, but the longer time passes, the more I can’t forget!” His eyes misted over again, gently sniffed, pretending to be calm. When he spoke again, his tone softened: “I know what you are worried about.” “I divorced her, the child wasn’t kept, so you don’t have to worry, I won’t let you be a stepmother.” “And about my mom, she had a stroke and is paralyzed, won’t bully you anymore.” “I am now the person in charge of Hale Group, I have the final say in the Hale family.” “I can marry you openly and honorably now.” He said all the situations in one breath. 10 years, those scars that had long scabbed were uncovered by him. That experience prone to give me nightmares, floated in my mind, like yesterday. On my 20th birthday, he also said: “Mia, I can marry you openly and honorably!” “I want to repay you with love for a lifetime, please marry me okay?” I agreed to him, happily accepted his pigeon egg diamond ring. But the next day, my family went bankrupt because of this proposal ring. His mother, Mrs. Hale, appeared in front of me elegantly and nobly. Looking at me like despising an ant. Walked around me circle after circle, using the aura of long-term high status to oppress me with her eyes again and again: “What year is this! Still dreaming of Prince falling in love with Cinderella!” “I can accept you being played by my son, but a social bottom feeder like you, will never enter a wealthy family like the Hales even if you die!” She took out a lawsuit and smashed it on my face: “Return the ring! Or wait to be sued!” Chapter 2 Self-esteem frustrated, I immediately plucked up courage to rummage through my bag to return the ring to her. But the ring was gone. His mother arrogantly humiliated me again. Turning around, she threw the ring Julian gave me into the sea right in front of me. I suddenly realized, the ring was taken by her long ago. She deliberately humiliated and dealt with me. “You can tell Julian all this, see if he believes you or me!” Turning around, she really sued me. My parents sold the only house in the family to pay back the ring money, heavily in debt. Because of this, I had a big fight with Julian: “Your mother is a villain! She is doing evil!” First time he flushed red, fiercely scolding me without giving in: “I don’t allow you to say my mom like this!” “She just asked you to return the ring, you just follow her first, I’ll buy you another one later!” “If you took out the ring, there would be no such things!” “My mom is sick, I beg you to follow her a bit for my sake, okay?” That time, was our first conflict because of his mother. He believed his mom’s words, thought I deliberately didn’t return the ring. And thought I didn’t handle things well, not tactful. First time I experienced, filled with powerlessness towards him. And he also suffered again and again because caught in the middle. His action of stepping forward again pulled my thoughts back. “Julian Hale, impossible!” “I already have my own new life.” “Even if I don’t have a new life, even if your mom died, I can’t turn back.” “I hate her, and hate you too.” Speaking of this my emotions were slightly excited. Those scars, just thinking of them, are heart-wrenching pain. Julian paused, eyes overflowing with innocent guilt: “Things back then, each had difficulties, there were misunderstandings inside.” “Baby, listen to me explain slowly okay?” I shook my head slightly refusing, didn’t want to talk about the past by re-experiencing the scars. He was nervous to the point of red eyes. Facing my refusal, he was anxious and careful, afraid of scaring me. “Don’t disturb my life, that’s it.” I turned to leave. He caught up and grabbed my hand, pulling upstairs. “This time I say anything won’t let go of your hand again.” “I take you to see now, my mom really already had a stroke and paralyzed!” Not allowing me to refuse, he pulled me to the bedroom on the second floor. The face lying on the bed is the person who gave me countless midnight nightmares. She opened her eyes, seeing me, eyes glared excitedly. Just like back then, when she knew Julian still pestered me not breaking up. She forced a bottle of aphrodisiac drink (Roofie) down my throat, gritting teeth humiliating me: “Little bitch! Refusing a toast only to be forced to drink a forfeit!” “I told you to stay away from my son! Your family made heavily in debt by me, actually still not afraid!” “I let you rot now!” “My son won’t want a rotten woman!” I was held down by her people, forced down a full bottle of aphrodisiac drink. Then, she put me in Julian’s deadly rival’s private room… My consciousness involuntary, under drug control, played by Julian’s deadly rival for several hours. When I collapsed holding my ruined body, ran to find Julian. He was lingering in bed with a girl of equal social status. I froze there, like dying. And he only stared angrily at the hickey left on my neck saying: “What, played happy yourself!” “Seeing me play, can’t stand it!” I was struck by lightning, painful then laughed. Turns out he knew all, but he chose to play deaf and dumb witnessing me sinking in pain. Chapter 3 Memory like blade, cutting my heart bloody. Looking at Julian’s mother’s face, I couldn’t help clenching my fist, biting back molars deeply. Couldn’t suppress anger in heart anymore, rushed forward and slapped her heavily: “This is what you owe me from my 20th year!” Mrs. Hale looked unhappy, glared at me fiercely. Julian’s eyes startled, didn’t expect I would hit. He hugged me from behind, comforting emotional me: “Mia, it’s all passed, these things won’t happen again in the future.” His embrace triggered my deeper hatred, turned around and slapped him on the face. “This is also what you owe me!” “Knew saving you would make our whole family live a life neither human nor ghost, I shouldn’t have saved you back then!” Five pink finger marks appeared on his cold white face. This slap made him smile. “So good, you are willing to lose temper at me.” He walked forward two steps, holding my hands, slapping his own face: “You hit, as long as you can vent anger, even beating me to death is fine!” I was confused. He didn’t mind pain. I still mind hand pain. “Enough! I should die alright!” Crackling slap sounds, terminated by Mrs. Hale’s roar. She stared at me angrily, like despising back then, just added helpless compromise. “I won’t stop you anymore.” “Want to be together then be together.” She said this sentence extremely reluctantly, gritting teeth. I laughed in anger: “Your son is garbage to me now!” “Give me for free I don’t want!” These words fiercely hurt the hearts of the Hale mother and son. He looked at me deeply, complaining eyes seemed to say, why I say such words to hurt him. Mrs. Hale snorted coldly to Julian: “See? Even I agreed, she won’t be with you!” She suddenly emotional, hate iron not becoming steel: “You half dead for such a woman! Worth it?” “Worth!” He replied very firmly. I turned and left, didn’t want to fall into the vortex of this mother and son again. Julian nervously pulled my hand again, explaining to me very fast: “I married Tiffany back then because, my mom was sick, only Tiffany could be a match for her.” “If I didn’t marry Tiffany, she wouldn’t do surgery.” “Back then I didn’t marry you, I was really helpless, not that I didn’t want to be responsible for you!” “Mia what I said is all true, beg you believe me once.” I forcefully threw off his hand, attitude still very firm: “All this is meaningless, I only hope not to be disturbed!” “If you don’t let me leave again, I will call the police.” He froze in place, smiled self-mockingly. Smiling smiling then cried. Looking at my back going away, his voice very confident: “I know you still love me!” “I will make us together again!” “No one can stop us!” Chapter 4 I didn’t take his blindly confident words to heart. I blocked all his contact information. Didn’t expect at a Charity Gala, saw the person I wanted to see least. Mrs. Hale sat in a wheelchair, still graceful and noble. Seeing me, servant pushed her towards me. Surroundings empty, she used voice others couldn’t hear. Like humiliating 20-year-old me, humiliated me again. “Playing hard to get! Hehe!” “Quite good at pretending, you came to this occasion just to attract my son’s attention right!” She glanced at me contemptuously: “I still say that, low-class goods like you only deserve to be played by my son!” “Don’t forget, you were forced a whole bottle of abortion pills by Julian back then!” “That medicine will make you infertile for life, I just let Julian be obsessed with you now.” “When he gets tired of playing, he will know you, a hen that can’t lay eggs, are useless!” 10 years ago, I not only almost infertile for life, but also almost died. When Julian knew I was pregnant with his deadly rival’s child, he was exasperated and cried forcing abortion pills on me. That time he said: “As long as not birth this child, I will persuade myself continue loving you.” “I give you chance to correct, you listen to me once, obediently drink this medicine.” He didn’t know I hoped the child in belly not born more than him. I resisted drinking the abortion medicine he brought, completely because medicine was switched by his mom, and increased dosage. And my resistance behavior, all misunderstood by Julian as, I cheated and fell in love with his deadly rival, so unwilling to drink abortion medicine. That day I lay on the floor, painfully panting, blood slowly spreading on carpet. And after Julian received Tiffany’s call asking him to accompany her to prenatal checkup, threw me alone in room. He never knew, that day I almost died because of him. Mrs. Hale’s sarcastic snort pulled my thoughts back. I had a fire in throat, couldn’t swallow, raised hand slapped Mrs. Hale in public: “Julian having a mother like you is his shame!” Mrs. Hale’s face just about to explode, suddenly changed drastically, covering face hit painful by me, crying said: “I know it was my fault stopping you before.” “I sincerely apologize to you, hope you can be with Julian.” “As long as you can vent anger, hit me however you want.” Not only Julian walked over, her voice attracted surrounding people’s eyes. Julian reached out want to hug me: “You can come specifically to see me here, I am very happy.” “Mia, give me and my mom some face on this occasion okay?” “After going back, you can make trouble however you want.” His voice very light, only let me and him hear. I alienated retreated a few steps to side, staring at him coldly: “Julian Hale, control your mom!” “Next time, it won’t be just a slap!” My warning attracted dissatisfaction from onlookers. “This girl speaks quite big tone, beating and scolding elders, really no upbringing!” Speaker didn’t know me, but I knew him! He is Hale family’s little follower, always fawning on Hale family, hoping Hale family can share some small projects to him. 40 something balding man, fawning look like a pug. “Who said my wife has no upbringing!” “My mommy is the best, you are the one with no upbringing.” 3-year-old son and husband’s voice came domineeringly at same time. Julian looked towards path crowd automatically dispersed, father and son walking in big strides, made him suddenly change color.

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28-year-old Lucas Sterling circled me in his arms, coaxing in a low voice. “Scarlett, give me a child, okay?” 35-year-old Lucas Sterling, when I was hanging by a thread, was caught by paparazzi hooking up with his little secretary in the hospital’s underground garage. Afterwards, Lucas was silent for a long time, lit a cigarette, his voice faint amidst the smoke. “Scarlett, don’t go trouble her, she’s young, doesn’t know better.” “I’ll compensate you.” I looked at the miscarriage report on my phone, numbly curved my lips. “No need, Lucas.” “Let’s… divorce.” Lucas’s hand holding the cigarette paused. “Scarlett, you’re not a child anymore.” “Consider the consequences before doing anything.” Consequences? I’ve considered them very clearly. Chapter 1 I put the divorce papers on the table, didn’t want to say anything more to Lucas, turned to leave. Lucas stubbed out the cigarette, reached out to pull me. “Scarlett, just a child.” “If you want, we can have another one later.” “Don’t bring up divorce at every turn.” My nose soured, blinked, trying not to let tears fall. “Lucas, he was eight months old, already formed!” Lucas sighed helplessly. “Unborn is just an embryo, can you not be so emotional?” I suppressed the surging emotions in my heart. “So did you think the same when you cheated with Summer? Lucas.” He gripped my wrist tightly, lowering his eyebrows. “Which man doesn’t do this?” “Cheating once, it counts as nothing, I promise you, Summer won’t appear in front of you again.” “Scarlett, we don’t need to go to the step of divorce.” Looking at Lucas’s self-righteous face, I closed my eyes, bitterness lingering in my heart. Cheating once? Lucas thought he hid it well. Actually I knew long ago. That time Lucas lied to me about a business trip, actually accompanied Summer to Malaysia to see the Kota Kinabalu sunset she always longed for. The young girl was bright and reckless, directly sent photos to provoke. She said. “Miss Scarlett, the sunset is beautiful, just Mr. Sterling is a bit fierce.” In that photo, Lucas kissed her wantonly under the warm sunset, the afterglow favored them. I was in so much pain I couldn’t breathe. I called Lucas, the phone was picked up quickly. His voice was hoarse, with lust. “What’s wrong, Scarlett.” I tried to make my voice sound normal. “What are you doing?” Lucas suppressed a groan, followed by very fast, very small sticky water sounds. My hand holding the phone trembled non-stop. I begged Lucas in my heart to tell me Summer was lying. “Exercising.” “Be good, I’m busy first, call you when done.” The phone was hung up abruptly. My heart completely cold, Lucas used action to tell me, he really cheated with Summer. I started unable to breathe, hands twisted together, numb all over. I was rushed to the hospital. In the hospital, the doctor told me I was pregnant. I pinched the pregnancy test sheet and cried for a long time. Later Lucas came back, I didn’t even have the courage to question him. Tears slid from the corner of my eyes. Lucas wiped my tears with his thumb. “Scarlett, just turn a blind eye, okay?” I was so angry my voice trembled. “Except divorce, there is no second possibility between us!” Lucas’s chest heaved constantly, he took a few deep breaths, suppressing emotions. “I won’t divorce you, Scarlett.” “You better kill this heart too.” “Calm down yourself.” Lucas threw the divorce papers into the trash can, slammed the study door loudly. Chapter 2 Snow fell heavily on the road. Lucas’s words lingered in my mind. He said “That’s just an embryo.” He said “Scarlett, don’t you have any fault?” Waves of pain came from my lower abdomen, tears smashed on the steering wheel. Couldn’t tell if sadness was more, or hate was more. Once, I was also the person Lucas protected on the tip of his heart. Lucas because of my sentence missing him. Would put down work at hand, cross half the country, knock on my door with my favorite flowers at dawn. In the second year with Lucas, I had a serious illness. Lucas, the young master who never believed in ghosts and gods, knelt 999 steps, knees knelt bloody, just to pray for my safety. Lucas to me, big to gold and silver jewelry, small to bit by bit companionship. Really spoiled me to the bone. The year I just married Lucas, wives in the circle bullied me for being young, scolded me behind my back as a market citizen from a small family, not presentable. I wasn’t willing to attend any important occasions with Lucas anymore. Later, Lucas knew the reason. He retaliated against those who chewed tongues behind backs. Lucas who always hid emotions, specially held a press conference to support me. Since then, no one dared to disrespect me openly. People in the circle envied me marrying someone who loved me so much like Lucas. I was also very lucky. Until later, Summer appeared. She was his university junior. Just sophomore. At first, Lucas just mentioned her more and more times. I asked him jealously. Do you like Summer. Lucas would kiss me. “Darling, why so jealous?” “She’s a little girl, temper is bad, how could I like her?” Perhaps at that time, Lucas’s heart had gradually tilted towards Summer. Just he didn’t know himself. We quarreled more and more because of Summer. Feelings were consumed completely in quarrels one after another. Lucas no longer hugged me gently, replaced by helplessness. “Scarlett, she’s a child, what do you calculate with her?” “I’m very tired, can you be mature?” Later, it was Summer’s blatant probing time and again. Person who loved me so much once, now indulged another person he loved to hurt me at will. Chapter 3 I returned to the villa, in the nursery prepared in advance, the small crib swayed with a gentle push. I looked for a long time, emotions burst. What’s the difference between an eight-month-old child and born? Clearly the doctor said the due date is next month. Clearly I planned everything, I read parenting books one after another at home. I bought him a Silver Rattle, even hand-made a Quilt, even the crib was polished bit by bit by designers and workers I found… I looked forward to this child’s arrival with full joy, I thought I would give him all my love, I wanted him to be happy forever. Clearly just a little bit. Just a little bit… Chapter 4 Summer came to find me because Lucas wanted to break up with her. Lucas said to her. “Summer, I will give you a sum of money, then you leave the city, don’t come back.” Summer unwilling. She cried asking Lucas if he ever loved her. Lucas kissed away her tears. “Summer, if I met you first, I would love you, just I already have Scarlett.” “Summer, don’t cry, I heartache.” After that Lucas never saw her again. Summer was forced anxious, don’t know how she found me. She came in pointing at my belly. “You think having a child can trap Mr. Sterling?!” “I tell you! You dream!” “The person Mr. Sterling loves is me! Is me!” I protected my belly backing up, wanted her to calm down. But Summer dazzled by anger couldn’t calm down. I called the nanny, wanted nanny to send Summer away. Summer pushed nanny to the ground, pounced on me. “Scarlett! Why don’t you go die?!” “You die, Mr. Sterling is mine alone!” I had no time to dodge, pushed to the ground by Summer, belly heavily hit the table corner. I sweated cold from pain. Summer like crazy, high heels kicked my belly fiercely one after another. She cursed asking me to die. I felt warm blood flowing to my thigh, panic occupied my heart, nanny climbed up pushed Summer away, called police for me, and called 911. Consciousness groggy, I dreamed a child waving at me. I couldn’t catch him no matter what. When I woke up, doctor looked at me hesitating to speak. I opened mouth, holding last trace of hope. “Doctor, my child…” Doctor sighed. “Sorry, Miss Scarlett, child didn’t keep.” Expected thing. Just hearing with own ears, I still couldn’t help emotional breakdown. Tears soaked pillow. Doctor advised me to restrain grief. Next day, TMZ exposed, Lucas and Summer hooking up in hospital underground garage. Chapter 5 I was like self-abuse, playing their video over and over again. Watching Lucas full of love, smilingly scooping her into arms. Watching Summer wearing silk nightdress, straddling him, few provocations, Lucas breath disordered. Urgent kiss, surging like waves. The Lucas I knew was restrained and gentle. Even if I once deliberately created romance wearing revealing dress, he would calmly evaluate, say this didn’t suit me. Heart seemed hollowed out a blood hole, throat gushed blood, even breathing was pain. I remembered our first night, I was nervous and afraid, movements clumsy. Lucas was not impatient, he coaxed me gently, voice steady like comforting a child. No lust fire, no loss of control, I thought it was his cherishing. But now looking, it was he didn’t want to invest passion, it was me to him, lacking fundamental attraction. Scenes of past, tearing whole body. I clearly realized, turns out Lucas never loved me. Doorbell rang non-stop. Just opened door. A slap already landed on my face. “Where is Lucas?!” Summer asked me angrily. Don’t know would think she came to catch adultery. I sneered. “How do I know?” Summer extremely angry, pushed me away walked into villa. “Lucas!” She shouted while searching. I let her roll out. Summer disregarded, until she pushed open that nursery door. Summer stunned, then held belly laughing loud. “Scarlett, look if you like a clown?” “Jumping clown!” “Hahahaha.” Summer laughed tremblingly, finished laughing, arms crossed leaning against wall looking at me. “Scarlett, I tell you, even I got rid of your child, Mr. Sterling simply doesn’t blame me.” “Do you want to know when you lay in operating room, how we had relations?” Summer approached me a step. “I called him, he blamed me at first.” “He said if your child had accident, he would kill me.” “I was so sad, how could he treat me like this?” “I cried, I cried crawling on his lap, I said, you kill me!” “I teased him while crying, you say is he too love me? Clearly you alive or dead uncertain, he still kissed me.” “He said, Summer, you really deserve to die!” “I pulled him sinking, did he not even sign surgery paper for you?” Summer eyes carried triumph. My whole body blood flowed backward. “Get out, Summer.” “What can you do if I don’t get out? Scarlett.” Summer twisted waist sat on sofa. “Right, forgot tell you, I’m pregnant.” “Mr. Sterling also knew that day, he even asked if he hurt me, also let me not say, avoid you can’t stand stimulation attack me.” My ears rang for a moment. “What did you say?” “I’m pregnant, Scarlett, you say is this your fate? Your child gone, my child came.” Summer poured herself a cup of tea. “I often think if God unfair, I liked Mr. Sterling at first sight, clearly I much prettier than you, you also just an orphan, even family don’t want you, you can have Mr. Sterling such perfect husband.” “Scarlett, I admit I jealous you.” “But now good, your child dropped, I pregnant, everything back to normal track.” Hate almost buried me. My child gone, Summer pregnant. No wonder… No wonder start to end Lucas protected Summer. No wonder our child killed by Summer, Lucas indifferent. Turns out, start to end, losing child only me one person. Damn! They all deserve die! Go to hell! I grabbed kitchen fruit knife want kill Summer. Knife about fall on Summer, caught by rushed over Lucas bare hand. Blood dripped down along knife edge. I tried pull out. Lucas held dead tight not let go. “Scarlett, are you crazy?!” Summer scared face pale, she fiercely pushed me to ground. “Mr. Sterling…” Lucas let go hand, knife fell ground. Summer looked at Lucas constantly bleeding hand, distressed dropping tears. She stepped my hand hard. I hurt speechless. “Scarlett, why don’t you go die!” Lucas pulled her. “Enough, Summer.” “She treated you like that…” Lucas frowned, bit impatient. “Stop noise, go hospital first.” Lucas looked me with pity and disappointment. “Scarlett, what difference you now with madwoman.” “You let me too disappointed.” Threw this sentence, Lucas took Summer leave. I watched their distant back, looked again knife on ground. “Lucas.” I softly called him. Lucas and Summer turned back same time. Next second, knife plunged into Summer belly. Summer softly fell down. Lucas reacted, subconsciously kicked me away. Lower back hit cabinet corner, hurt me vision black. Lucas ignored own hand wound. Tightly hugged Summer, trembling hand dialed 911. I laughed silently. Lucas saw me laugh, angry eye rims red. “Scarlett, if Summer and child in her belly have any matter, you spend rest life in jail!” I felt funny. When my eight months child killed by Summer, I wanted sue her. Lucas first step destroyed apartment surveillance, said to me. “Scarlett, ruin a girl bright life because an embryo, too cruel.” “Moreover you even no evidence, how you sue her?” He gently hugged me, sighed. “Scarlett, no need, we will have children later.” “I compensate you, okay?” Now for another woman, nervous to put ruthless words to me. Said want me sit jail bottom through. Tears slid down cheek. Lucas, I hate you.

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