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Three years in that facility had tamed me. I was compliant. Docile. I did what I was told. When my older sister, Camille, came to pick me up, she recoiled almost instantly. “Still wearing that corpse-like expression, Ash? You will not bring that face home.” I simply nodded, then bent down, picked up a shard of broken glass near my feet, and drew it across my own face. Camille went instantly pale, staring at the fresh crimson bloom. Back at the house, my adopted brother, Noah, cornered me, his eyes sharp with menace. “Just so you know, coming back changes nothing. I can still make you disappear.” Before I could respond, he snatched a baseball bat from the corner and ruthlessly slammed it against his own forearm. “It’s okay, Ash. Whatever you need to do, big brother. I deserve it if it makes you feel better.” Jocelyn, my fiancée, walked in just in time to see Noah clutching his arm, his face twisted in pain. Her expression hardened instantly. “Apologize to Noah, Ashton. Now. Or else…” She didn’t finish the sentence. I turned, bolted to the third-floor balcony, and vaulted over the railing. I landed with a sickening crunch directly in front of my parents who were just stepping out of the elevator. “Ah!” Mom’s scream was a guttural, piercing sound of pure horror. Dad frantically pulled out his phone to call 911, his face ash-gray. Jocelyn, usually a portrait of composure, had finally lost her cool. Her pupils shrank as she froze on the spot. On the way to the ER, Noah scrambled to clear himself: “This isn’t my fault, okay? He jumped. I couldn’t stop him.” I spat up a mouthful of blood and nodded weakly in agreement. Three years in the asylum had taught me my role: I was the tragic hero of a dark, twisted story. The voices—the insistent, droning commentary in my head—told me that only through absolute obedience, followed by death, could I return to my original world. 1 I survived. My internal injuries were severe, but they managed to pull me back from the brink. Jocelyn watched me, her brow furrowed. She turned to Noah. “What the hell happened between you and Ash? I asked him for an apology. Why did he throw himself off a balcony?” Noah shrugged innocently, running a hand through his hair. “I have no idea. He just… decided to jump. It had nothing to do with me.” Camille, who had been silent, immediately stepped in front of Noah, shielding him. She glared at Jocelyn. “You’re his fiancée, and you’re siding with Ash over Noah? Don’t pretend you don’t know how sick Ashton is. He’s always been cruel, and he hates Noah! He was probably just trying to frame him.” Jocelyn started to protest, but Mom cut her off, looking displeased with Camille. “Enough, Cami! Ash is your brother too. He’s barely clinging to life after what he just did. Just keep quiet.” Dad scowled, his unspoken disapproval heavy in the air. Camille snapped. She marched over, grabbed my hand, and yanked me up in the bed. “Still acting? What did I tell you before we left the clinic? Forget everything already? You cause trouble the second you walk back in! If you really want to die, why didn’t you find a taller building? Did you count on the flowerbed to break your fall, you disgusting coward?” The voices in my head pulsed with a cold, urgent fear. Obey. Obey. I pulled the IV needle out of my hand and shoved Camille away. My gaze locked onto the half-open hospital window. “Fine,” I managed, my voice a broken rasp. “I’ll give you what you want.” My foot was already on the ledge. I thought: This is it. Freedom. But Jocelyn reacted instantly. She lunged, wrapping her arms around my torso, pulling me back with surprising strength. Sweat beaded on her forehead. The pure, unadulterated terror in her eyes was unmistakable. “Stop it, Ashton! Enough!” Mom was there next, gripping my arm so tightly her knuckles were white. “Ash, what are you doing?!” I forced a smile, a grimace that felt colder than any tears. “I’m okay, Mom. I’m fine.” The voices had warned me: my time here was running out. I had to obey their commands, or I would meet a fate worse than the death I craved. I needed a clean exit. But Camille just saw it as a calculated performance. Her face was contorted in fury. “You won’t quit, will you, Ashton? You’re afraid we’ll blame you for hurting Noah’s arm, so you’re putting on this pathetic show for us! It won’t work!” Noah, ever the collaborator, clutched his bruised arm dramatically. “It’s okay, sis. Don’t blame him. It was just one hit. I’m a man; I can handle it.” But this time, Dad hesitated. He did the unthinkable: he yelled at Camille. “Are you even his sister, Cami? He’s lying in a hospital bed! Do you think this can be faked?” Then he turned to Noah, his voice low and dangerous. “Noah, tell me the truth. What happened in the living room?” Camille and Noah stared at Dad, stunned. Noah sighed dramatically. “Dad, I swear I didn’t lie.” Jocelyn finally spoke, looking at Noah’s swollen arm. A flicker of pity or perhaps resignation crossed her eyes. “There’s a security camera in the living room. But when I came in… I did see Ash hit Noah. That part is undeniable.” Camille sneered at me, her eyes brimming with disgust. Watching them argue over me, a chilling clarity settled in. Obey. They said I hurt Noah. They needed me to pay. I waited until their focus shifted, grabbed the nearest object—a sharp, chrome fruit knife from the bedside tray—and brought it to my neck, drawing the blade across my skin with all the force I could muster. Arterial spray instantly painted the room. Camille, standing closest, was splattered with crimson. Noah’s eyes widened in horror. Mom screamed once and crumpled to the floor. Jocelyn, trembling, frantically yelled for a nurse. Chaos erupted. I closed my eyes, the deep relief of a promise kept washing over me. 2 Jocelyn was the first to return to the penthouse to check the security footage. The playback showed Noah taking the baseball bat and striking his own arm. The truth was unmistakable. “Why?” she asked him, utterly bewildered. Mom and Dad soon saw the footage, too. Mom was so furious she rushed forward and slapped Noah. “You are my son, but Ash is my son too! He’s your older brother! Why would you do that to him?” Noah hung his head, a flash of something dark and cold crossing his eyes. “Joss, Mom, I didn’t want to. I was just scared. I was afraid he’d come back and treat me like he used to.” “You know how he used to lash out, how he’d hurt people. I genuinely have… trauma from his past behavior. I felt like I had to do something before he hurt me again.” As he spoke, he started gasping, clutching his chest. A tell-tale sign of an oncoming asthma attack. The family knew his asthma was severe. Camille panicked, rushing to find his inhaler. After he stabilized, his face pale and clammy, Camille’s pity overflowed. She looked at our parents. “He’s like this, and you’re still pushing him? It’s all Ashton’s fault anyway. He did this to himself. He drove us all crazy with his cruelty, and this is what he gets!” “And you, Jocelyn,” she hissed. “Your eyes have barely left Ashton since he returned. Can you blame Noah for feeling insecure and threatened?” Jocelyn glanced at Noah on the floor. Her tone softened slightly. “My heart is with Noah, always. That hasn’t changed.” “But even if Ash isn’t my fiancé anymore, he’s still the boy I grew up with. His life matters.” Camille let out a harsh, chilling laugh. “His life matters? Mom, Dad, do you honestly think Ashton’s ‘sanity’ is cured? He’s trying to kill himself at every turn. Doesn’t that prove he’s still mentally unstable?” “He’s malicious! He saw Noah’s severe asthma; he must have done all this on purpose just to cause an attack. He is pure poison!” Noah generously waved a hand, dismissing the argument. “It’s fine, Camille. It’s my fault. If big brother Ash is happy, he can hit me, he can yell at me. I won’t fight back.” “Why should he get to hit you?” Camille snapped, her voice breaking. “You don’t owe him anything!” “He terrorized you for years. If I hadn’t stepped in to protect you, he would have destroyed you. Ten of his lives wouldn’t be enough to pay for what he’s done!” Camille spat, her gaze burning toward my hospital room. “I think his sickness is back. You need to test him again. If he’s still delusional, he could be dangerous. Who knows what he might do next? Who can guarantee Noah’s safety?” A heavy silence descended. In their minds, Camille’s words made a terrible, undeniable sense. Jocelyn thought for a moment, then walked into my room, standing over my bed. “Are you doing this to punish us for sending you away, Ashton? Is this a performance fueled by resentment?” I shook my head without a moment’s thought. “I don’t resent any of you. Everything I’ve suffered is what I deserve. Your punishment of me was unavoidable.” Jocelyn’s face darkened. She pressed on. “The doctors said you were better. Is this new compliance, this docility, just a lie? A clever trick to escape the asylum?” All eyes in the room turned to me. I started to shake my head, wanting to deny it, but the sudden pain in my skull was blinding, like an electrical current. Then, the relentless voices boomed in my mind: [BE A GOOD BOY. BE COMPLIANT. YOUR DEATH IS THE ONLY WAY OUT.] 3 I clutched my head, gritting my teeth. “I am not lying.” Noah immediately sidled up to my bedside, a spark of vicious delight in his eyes. “Let’s see about that.” He glanced at me, then motioned to his assistant, who slapped a bankruptcy filing on the table in front of me. “The company you broke your back to build is gone. It’s bankrupt. Do you have anything to say?” Everyone knew that firm was my life’s work, my half-life. But I kept my expression blank, my eyes calm and unblinking, as if the news meant nothing. He wasn’t satisfied. His eyes flickered to Jocelyn. In a calculated, predatory move, he kissed her, a long, possessive, open-mouthed kiss. He watched me as he did it, waiting for the inevitable explosion. He knew. Everyone knew. I had loved Jocelyn more than I loved myself. Under the scrutiny of my entire family, I reached into my pocket, pulled out the simple gold band—the engagement ring I’d once given Jocelyn—and handed it to him. “May you both have a lifetime of happiness.” Noah was momentarily stunned. But Jocelyn’s face shifted completely. She stared at me, her voice low and dangerously controlled. “It seems you really are cured.” I met her gaze, neither confirming nor denying. Noah lost the last shred of his composure. He called for a psychiatrist, demanding an electroshock test, then kept insisting the doctor increase the voltage. The doctor warned him, “Any higher, and he could slip into a coma.” “Keep going!” Noah screamed. The electric current sent me into uncontrollable spasms. The sheets beneath me felt suddenly wet, and the metallic scent of ammonia filled the air. Jocelyn squeezed her eyes shut, sweat pouring from her temples. Mom looked away, Dad steering her toward the door. Only Camille stood by, waiting for me to break. The doctor finally stopped the current when I went limp, unconscious. “That’s enough. No more.” Noah’s fists were clenched, but he couldn’t argue with a man who had flatlined. Mom collapsed against the wall, sobbing hysterically. But I was already gone. When I woke up, Dad was lecturing Camille and Noah. Jocelyn was sitting beside me, her hands clasped tightly around mine. The moment I opened my eyes, she released me instantly, asking in a rush, “You’re awake. How are you feeling? Any better?” I didn’t react, staring blankly at the ceiling. The memories—the real memories—were flooding back. When Noah first came to live with us, he was a small, fragile boy with severe asthma. I was fiercely protective, viewing him as my little brother. I gave him my room; I gave him whatever he wanted. Yet, he constantly developed strange, unexplained bruises. When Mom and Dad asked, he would just look at me and stay silent. The silence spoke volumes. Disappointment began to cloud my parents’ eyes. At school, he was easy prey for bullies. I stood up for him, warning every kid that if they touched him, they were messing with the Reeds. Somehow, the narrative shifted. Soon, everyone believed I was the one doing the bullying. When Camille asked, Noah maintained his silence, but his eyes, when he looked at me, were full of a false, calculated terror. The message was clear. Camille heard the rumors, and her affection for me bled into pure disgust. I was a rebellious teenager, but I wasn’t a monster. No one believed me. I started lashing out, burning myself out with pointless attempts to defend myself. I confided everything in Jocelyn, not noticing the subtle, increasingly odd look in her eyes. After I finished, she subtly slipped out of my embrace. She told me Noah had never said a bad word about me; in fact, he always spoke highly of me. I felt a cold rage. I kept trying to prove my sanity, but I was constantly burning out from the internal conflict. Jocelyn and Noah grew closer. My jealousy became a physical pain. I confronted her, again and again, demanding to know why she was abandoning me. Jocelyn simply watched me spiral, then told Mom and Dad, and Camille, that I was harassing them. Jocelyn was an orphan; she had a standing betrothal to me, and my parents had raised her. They trusted her completely. When she told them I was targeting Noah, their disgust for me intensified. Camille openly hated me. I never understood why she betrayed me. Until that night, when I walked in and found her and Noah kissing. Rage blinded me. I grabbed Noah’s collar and punched him with all my strength. He casually wiped the blood from his lip, then gave me a defiant, knowing smirk. Right in front of me, he started gasping, deliberately triggering an asthma attack. Jocelyn immediately slapped me. “Ashton Reed, you disgust me.” She didn’t spare me a second glance, rushing to call an ambulance for Noah. When Mom, Dad, and Camille arrived, they blamed me instantly. Noah lay in the hospital, looking frail and near death. When he woke, he explained my actions away: “It’s okay, big brother didn’t mean it. It’s my fault, Joss. I couldn’t control my true feelings.” Jocelyn, without hesitation, knelt before my parents. “I’m so sorry, George and Helen. I’ve fallen in love with Noah. Please, blame only me.” In that moment, a frenzy took over. I dragged the pale, weak Noah out of the bed and beat him like a madman. That’s when they had me committed. I stayed there for three years. 4 I endured three years of beatings and torment. Yet, I clung to a faint hope of survival. Then, one night, the orderlies dragged me into a black cell. They sneered as they chained me like an animal, then forced me into a pit filled with rats and snakes. I don’t remember how I survived that night. When I was near death, the voices, the commentary, finally spoke to me. They told me I was the hero of an abuse story, and I had to be absolutely obedient to leave this world. I became compliant. They chained me up and demanded I lick garbage from the floor. I did it. They beat me and kicked me. I walked toward them, letting them trample me. They eventually tired of me. Bored, they finally told my parents I was cured. My thoughts returned to the present. Mom was sobbing, her eyes full of tears. “Ash, what is it? You were never like this before.” I looked at her, confused. “The man I was before? I’ve been like this the whole time I was in the facility.” Mom sobbed harder, choking on her words. “This isn’t the facility, Ash. You’re home. You can be the way you used to be.” Home. The word was a confusing jolt. Mom embraced me, repeating that they were my family. I shook my head, firm in my conviction. “Family doesn’t hit me, doesn’t call me names, doesn’t tell me to get lost.” “Family doesn’t commit me for three years and forget I exist.” “And this isn’t my home. My home is…” I didn’t know where my home was. The voices only told me I had to die, completely obedient, to find it. I tried to recall what else they had said, but the effort brought another spike of searing pain, and I lost consciousness. The last thing I saw was the medical team rushing toward me, surrounded by their cries and screams. When I woke up, I was still here. Mom and Dad gripped my hands. Jocelyn’s coldness had softened into a strained concern. Only Camille’s eyes were still full of loathing. “He’s having a breakdown. This is just a pity display to manipulate you.” she insisted. Mom was so angry she smashed a medicine cup onto the floor. “He is your blood brother, Cami! When will you stop?” Camille pointed at herself in disbelief. “Stop? He’s fine! He didn’t die! Why are you all acting like this?” I looked at her, so full of hatred, and remembered the sister who used to defend me, who gave me her favorite candy. That sister was long gone. Sensing the tension, Noah stepped in, playing the peacemaker. “Mom, please. Camille is just worried about us. A psychiatric patient can harm people without facing legal consequences.” “Ash is covered in fresh injuries. That is the look of someone having a severe psychotic break. Let’s just ask the doctor. Let’s get a professional opinion.” A cold malice flashed in his eyes. Mom and Dad fell silent. Jocelyn looked at me, then at my numerous new self-inflicted injuries. She finally stood up to find a doctor, but Noah stopped her. “Go get the one who just treated Ash. He knows his condition best.” Jocelyn nodded without hesitation. The doctor walked in, asked a few questions, and I answered honestly and simply. She turned to my family, her voice clinical. “Mr. Reed is displaying clear signs of a severe performative personality disorder. If he is not returned to the facility, he poses a risk.” Noah smirked. Camille immediately grabbed my arm. “The doctor said it! You are not cured! You’re going to hurt someone and walk away free. You are coming back to the clinic now!” At the word clinic, a deafening roar erupted in my head. [ABSOLUTE OBEDIENCE.] I threw Camille off me and sprinted for the window. She watched my legs swing out over the air, her face draining of all color. Then, the heavy sound of a body hitting the ground.

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At my husband’s funeral, my twin son and daughter each took out a DNA Test report showing no blood relation with me. Son looked indifferent, “I already know Aunt Sheila is my biological mother. Back then you used dirty tricks to break her and Dad up. We have already moved our household registration to be with my real mom.” Daughter frowned impatiently, “You live in my dad’s house, let the woman he loved suffer for so many years. From now on, you stay at home as a maid to serve her till she dies.” I didn’t cry or make a scene, just nodded calmly. Only because yesterday, I saw them in the hospital with my own eyes, holding forged DNA reports discussing, “Brother, Dad is dead, Mom only has us two relatives left. Really want let her die alone? No one to arrange her funeral?” Son didn’t hesitate, “If Aunt Sheila didn’t give me her heart back then, I would have died long ago. As long as Aunt Sheila is willing, I am her biological son. And you, did you forget who risked life to carry you out during the House Fire? That woman you call Mom, disappeared without a trace when we were most difficult. People taking care of us were all Aunt Sheila. This kind of cold-blooded and selfish person can’t compare to Aunt Sheila’s one finger. I feel disgusted calling her Mom one more time.” I clutched the heavy Artificial Heart in my chest. Tears smashed on the diagnosis of end-stage heart failure. This is also good. I die alone, when the heart stops beating, I can leave without any ties. Chapter 1 Seeing me silent. Son Mason looked impatient, calling my name directly, “Hazel, Dad told me personally before he died. You gave birth to a stillborn back then. He was afraid you would be sad, so he adopted us siblings for you to raise. My mom is kind, for a person like you, she forcefully endured the pain of separation from her children for twenty-eight years. Even if you give your life to her now, it’s not enough.” Daughter Mia echoed as a matter of course, “Exactly, since the truth is out, you are not our real mom, but you enjoyed the fortune that should belong to my mom for so many years. Being a maid to serve my mom is only right.” I stared at their angry faces. Wanted to laugh but couldn’t. Only felt full of absurdity. I was married to George Sterling for thirty years, he cheated with my father’s illegitimate daughter Sheila for twenty-eight years. For his professor’s face, he threatened me with children. Trapped me, the legitimate daughter, in this prison-like marriage. To decorate his facade. But behind the scenes, he acted as a secret couple with Sheila. I wasted half my life, becoming a ghost-like old woman. Sheila was raised not knowing grains, over fifty still like a young girl. Before marriage, she had my father’s preference. After marriage, she had my husband’s preference. Now, this pair of children I held up with half my life. Just when I thought the pain ended today. Also because of her. Used the sharpest blade, stabbed into my heart. Amidst the whispers of the crowd, I was like an embarrassed stray dog. Lowered head grabbed my handbag ready to leave. Mason suddenly rushed over, snatched my handbag, “Don’t think about taking anything from my house.” Handbag was turned upside down. “Crash”. An old phone and a photo floated out. That was taken when they were ten years old, I begged George to take for us. He didn’t even look, impatiently took one. Photo didn’t even focus, three of our faces were a bit blurry. But I carried it for eighteen years, rubbed until edges curled. Mia also recognized the photo I treated as life. Face looked a bit unnatural, “Brother, forget it, she didn’t take anything.” Mason picked up the photo on the ground without a word. Just one look, tore it to pieces and threw it on my face. Facing my instantly pale face. He sneered without guilt, “Originally you broke up my dad and mom. If not for you, our family would be living happily now. Mia and I wouldn’t be separated from our real mom for more than twenty years. You keeping this disgusting photo now is just to deliberately make my mom feel bad, are you disgusting or not?” He got more excited as he spoke, eyes dyed scarlet, “When I was diagnosed with heart problem, you and my mom both matched. You were afraid of death and ran away first time, disappeared for two months. If not my mom stood out to give me her heart, grass on my grave would be two meters high now.” “Thinking about it now, this is the power of blood. Sure enough, only my real mom would risk her life for me. And you, this greedy for life and afraid of death impostor, simply don’t deserve children to send you off.” I looked bloodlessly at this son I had difficult labor for three days and nights. Risked life to give birth. And spent half life cultivating into talent. Using the most resentful eyes. Most vicious words. Chopping one knife after another at my most fatal place. Afraid couldn’t make me painful. Surging dull pain flooded throat, almost made me stand unstable. Just then, a familiar figure suddenly entered the door. Chapter 2 Sheila wearing a black mink coat. Trotted to block Mason, “Mason, don’t say that. Your Aunt Hazel after all isn’t your real mom, I can understand she afraid of death. What I did for you and Mia was all willing. I don’t blame anyone, you guys also stop blaming your Aunt Hazel okay?” Mason red eyes held her hand tightly, “Mom, sorry, let you suffer so many years. Son will never leave you again, no one can separate us mother and son.” Mia even cried choking pouncing into her arms. Three of them hugged tightly together. Weeping with joy for the blood reunion late for twenty-eight years. Only me, standing in the ridicule and banter of public eyes. Lived like a thorough clown. But Mason still didn’t plan to let me go, “I have already processed divorce for you and him according to Dad’s will. Later my mom is Mrs. Sterling. When you die, you are not qualified to be buried in Sterling family grave, find a place yourself.” Mia added hesitatingly, “As long as you concentrate on serving my mom well, after you pass away, I can buy you a coffin to bury in public cemetery.” Public cemetery buries all loners with no relatives, no one to claim. I stiffened in place, actually wanted to laugh, but pulling mouth corner, tears couldn’t help flowing out. Sheila pretended difficult stepping forward to pull me, eyes hiding pride, “Sister, I didn’t want to do this either. But you saw, these two children are filial, insist on giving me a home, I also have no choice, you will understand us right?” Looking at the pair of children guarding Sheila tightly left and right. I cried and laughed. Do I have qualification not to understand? From small to big. Whatever Sheila wanted to snatch from my hand. I never kept. Before was father. Later was husband. Now, at this moment my life is coming to an end. Even my children are lost. I don’t want to fight anymore, also can’t fight anymore. Finally I bent down, amidst floor of photo fragments, only picked up the phone. Funeral ended, I returned to familiar home. But was arranged to live in the narrow cramped storage room. Not even a bed. Mia threw a tattered quilt emitting heavy moldy smell on the floor. Tone full of venting pleasure, “Are you regretting now what you did to me and my brother back then?” I looked at her fingers pinching red. Heart filled with dull pain. My Mia, from small to big always like this. Whenever wronged, would subconsciously pinch her own fingers. Every time was me holding her hand, rubbing open bit by bit, hugging her in arms to comfort. But now, my subconsciously raised hand, was avoided by her with disgust. I blinked eyes astringent to pain, gently smiled, “I don’t regret. Start over, I would still do this.” She gritted teeth, almost instantly red eyes, “You simply don’t deserve to be a mother, deserve to die alone with no one to send off.” Mason also followed in, he obviously heard our conversation. Eyes full of ice slag like coldness, “Why talk so much to this selfish vicious old woman? If she had conscience she wouldn’t be punished by God to have no descendants. Later we concentrate on being filial to our own mom, don’t waste time on her this lowly maid.” Door was slammed heavily, shaking down a floor of dust. I stood in darkness for a long time. Only raised hand wiped face, but found face full of tears long ago. It’s okay, wait a few more days, I can do as they wish, never hinder their eyes again. Sheila already lost all reliance, she will be a mother obediently. This is enough. Chapter 3 Midnight, I was woken by chest stifling pain. Winter twelfth lunar month weather, cold air on ground continuously spread my whole body through thin bedding. I shivering, got up to kitchen pour cup of hot water. Just picked up boiling kettle, a heavy muffled sound hit my head. I stunned in place, vision black for a while. Until a stream of warm wetness slid down from hair. Frozen stiff body then hindsight felt scalp exploding severe pain. But before I opened mouth. Ear suddenly exploded sound of glass breaking on ground. Followed by Sheila’s scream. “Ah, ghost!” Mason and Mia almost rushed in at same time. Looking at broken vase on floor, two people protected in front of Sheila without saying a word. “Sister, you clearly know my heart is bad, why deliberately hide in kitchen scare me? You just hate me not dying?” Sheila clutched chest, crying almost passed out. Mason furious, fiercely turned head glaring at me, “Are you fucking sick? Not sleep at midnight hide in kitchen scare people? If my mom scared out something good or bad, I want you pay life…” He roared halfway, but suddenly choked voice. Gaze dead staring at blood continuously hanging down from my head top, brows twisted into a knot. Mia tone guilty but fierce said, “Injured not hurry go handle, get blood everywhere, disgusting dead.” Sheila seeing this, cried more aggrieved, “I thought thief entered home, so used vase smashed sister, but I was also too afraid. Mason, Mia, my heart uncomfortable, don’t know if artificial heart scared out problem.” Two people’s attention immediately transferred, quickly took out heart protection pills fed her, nervously supporting her walk out. Just walked two steps, Sheila turned head, like suddenly remembered something, “Sister, I a heart bad person where have strength smash your head broken, turns out two bags of ketchup I put in fridge yesterday not found was used by you…” She lowered eyes, red eye rims sighing, “I know, you not reconciled. You rest assured, after New Year, I leave, absolutely not disturb your family of three. I only beg you, let me accompany children finish this last New Year, even if artificial heart stops later die alone outside I also no regrets.” I looked at her bloodlessly, whole body blood cooled down bit by bit. Actually, when learned George seriously ill couldn’t survive this year. I had several beautiful dreams. Me and children finally suffered through. Finally can have a happy reunion New Year. In dream no threat, no abuse, no beating. Only family happiness. TV playing lively gala. Pot boiling white chubby dumplings. Brilliant fireworks, dispelled all haze of my first half life. Even if this is the last year I can accompany them. I was still happy to tears. But I forgot, I was long a person forgotten by happiness. Cold main door opened. Two people who I blocked wind and snow for a lifetime. Threw me into ice sky snow ground. High above gaze, is chill colder than this sky full wind and snow, “So like acting, I let you stay outside act enough.” Before door closed, Mia’s gaze stayed on my thin worn cotton coat for two seconds, “Brother, so cold weather, throwing her outside won’t happen accident right?” “What accident can she have? Strong like a cow. You think everyone like our mom? Heart installed artificial heart, body full of burn scars, need careful nursing. Just her kind of black heart, freeze to death is deserve.” Chapter 4 Main door closed before my eyes, cut off last trace of warmth. I leaned on steps at door. Exhaled breath one colder than one. Heavy artificial heart, like a disrepair old machine, beating slowly and dully. Slower and slower. Happy laughter inside room transmitted continuously through door. “Mom, tomorrow Christmas Eve, we take you out eat big meal count down.” “Mom, this is imported cashmere coat I bought you, very warm, only mom so young stylish wear good looking.” “Mom, later we never let you eat a bit bitter, we siblings will be filial to you forever.” “Mom, we will earn lot lot money, let you become world happiest old lady.” Wind and snow seemed bigger. So cold. Cold heart so painful so painful. I wrapped tight cotton coat worn many years, long clumped not like shape. Leaning in sky full flying snow, borrowing meager light leaking from room. Softly hummed song children liked gather around me sing most when small, “Stars in sky don’t speak, doll on ground misses mom…” How much want accompany children finish this last New Year. Pity, seem can’t wait. I hugged myself tight, heavily closed eyes. Don’t know how long passed, main door behind suddenly opened. My stiff body fell in following momentum. Trance open eyes time, I saw two faces sweetly calling mom in dream enlarged, no smile, only thick disgust. Mason sneered, “I said, scourge leave thousand years. Person like her, how so easy freeze die.” Mia supporting Sheila wearing big red cashmere coat, stepped over me without looking sideways, “We going out count down, you stay home clean up.” I supported door panel climbed up, looking at my purple but no longer trembling hands, gently nodded, “Okay.” Before turning leave, Mason subconsciously looked back once, hunched staggering back figure, head full of white hair. He frowned, like first time discovered. Clearly I only one year older than Sheila, why I aged so much? But he thought for long time, how also couldn’t recall my former look. This hindsight unease, like an invisible needle stuck in heart, made him suddenly sting unbearable. He clenched fist, forced himself suppress that discomfort, but heard Mia somewhat hoarse voice, “Brother, today is Christmas Eve, how about we come back bring her some food?” Silent few seconds, Mason then stiffly nodded, “Whatever.” He told himself. Unable to enjoy family happiness is I deserve. Become絕户 (end of line) no children send off, is I unkind unjust first. If one day, I can sincerely apologize, repent my mistake. He not cannot give me another chance, properly filial me second half life. He felt, my body good, unlike Sheila changed heart for him, entered fire for his sister. He confidently thought, still have very long very long future can wait my repentance. As if convinced himself, he raised smile, focused accompany Sheila finish big meal then watch fireworks show. And me at home, silently picked up cleaning tools, like countless times in past decades. Carefully cleaned every corner and nook. Then turned into kitchen. Two hours later, I finished wrapping one hundred dumplings. Half is son loves pork green onion. Half is daughter loves shrimp chive. Finished all this, I washed my face, combed hair. Walked out this home, walked into wind and snow. Finally I still didn’t hold till hospital, after terminal lucidity scattered, I fell amidst passerby screams. And other side, accompanying Sheila finished watching fireworks show Mason finally impatiently answered my twelfth call. “Hazel Yang, are you done? I want accompany my mom count down, can you roll far away.” Phone other end hesitated few seconds, then came a strange male voice. “Hello, here is General Hospital Cardiology Department, ask are you Ms. Hazel Yang’s relative? Ms. Yang due to artificial heart rejection triggered acute heart failure already rescue invalid passed away, trouble you come claim body ASAP.”

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Overnight, the family business went bankrupt, and mom and dad were both paralyzed in a car accident. I gave up my studies, used my tender shoulders to carry the heavy burden, and also carried their hope of survival. In three years. I sold plasma, worked as a human punching bag in underground fight clubs, and signed long-term clinical drug trial agreements. Working three high-risk manual jobs a day, just to pay off debts and gather high nursing fees. Until I was cleaning the exterior glass of a hotel at high altitude and saw. My parents, who should have been living in a nursing home, were holding Champagne, chatting and laughing with friends. “Mr. Sterling, you and your wife have been faking paralysis for three years, almost tired Nancy to death, isn’t it time to stop?” Dad snorted lightly, “Three years is too cheap for her. If she didn’t deliberately bring fresh flowers back, how could she cause Stella to get a rash. Not giving her some punishment is unreasonable.” “But Stella finally cured her pollen allergy, I plan to let Nancy go. On Stella’s birthday, we will announce our recovery to the public, and I will also restore her identity as the eldest miss of the Sterling family.” “But you recovering so fast, won’t Nancy suspect?” Mom said with incomparable confidence: “That silly girl, always looking forward to our recovery, happy too late, how would she think so much.” “Since Nancy was found back, she has been targeting Stella. This time counts as paying for her mistakes, we will compensate her double in the future.” I hung in mid-air. Sweat mixed with tears fell into my mouth, bitter and astringent. But Mom, there is no future. To get a sky-high compensation, I signed a death agreement. Chapter 1 Fifty-eighth floor high altitude. Wind blowing whirringly, slapping my face raw pain. My whole body was soaked with sweat, wind blowing made it even more biting cold. Safety belt tightly strangled my shoulder and back, I was like a puppet doll, blown swaying left and right. I laughed and laughed, vision blurred. The howling of wind covered my sobbing. Dad raised his glass and said: “Thank you friends for your cooperation these years, we have one last punishment for Nancy, hope you accompany me to act this play fully, no one intervene then.” People present froze. “Mr. Sterling, you still want to punish her?” “Yeah, after all she is your biological daughter, enough is enough. Aren’t you afraid she knows the truth and leaves you?” Dad sneered, “Precisely because she is biological, I have to change her unruly and willful temper properly.” “Relax, she won’t leave us even if beaten to death. Back then after she got lost, she crossed half of the country alone just to reunite with us, how could she bear to leave?” “But Stella is different, after all not biological, easy to have estrangement with us. We must consider her emotions, can’t let her suffer a bit of grievance.” Turns out my three years of painstaking effort. Was simply a thorough joke. My future, my dignity, even my life. Worthless in front of her grievance. Heart was fiercely gouged out a piece, even breathing carried dense pain. Just then, a call came in. “Miss Nancy, ten days later the institution will conduct Live Cryopreservation Experiment on you, these days you say goodbyes to family properly.” I wiped a handful of tears and said: “Nothing good to say goodbye.” Ten days later, is Stella’s birthday, also my birthday. When Stella was adopted home. Parents changed her birthday to the same day as mine. Just now I was still racking my brains thinking. How to open mouth, let them calmly accept this fact: My birthday, is also death day. Now seems unnecessary. “Okay then, according to our agreement, after you are frozen, $10 Million funds will be transferred to the nursing home’s account.” “Institution will send special person to manage account, ensure every penny used on your parents.” “Wait, here I want to add one more clause.” Chapter 2 I thought for a moment. “If my parents recover, use this money on people in need, please strictly check.” Mechanical female voice paused, “Okay, I will add this to supplementary agreement…” Although I was on the phone, my eyes stayed on parents. They wore Haute Couture. Navigating through the crowd with ease, smiling so brilliantly. But pierced me like ten thousand arrows through heart. After a long time, I stiffly climbed back to the top floor. In the lobby, Manager Wang handed me a few cash bills. “This is six hundred, half an hour job, actually dragged for two hours, I only pay you half an hour money.” If before. I would definitely argue strongly for deducted wages. After all money I earned with life, wished to break into two halves to spend. But now I numbly took it, didn’t utter a sound. I carried rope, walked out of hotel lost soul. Rip, a sharp sound rushed straight to eardrum. “You shameless thing, walk without eyes? This is custom made by my mom abroad, cost a million!” I then found hook at rope end, hooked on Stella’s dress full of diamonds. Sparkling dress stung my eyes sour and swollen. Every diamond on it, more expensive than me cleaning glass for an hour. Good thing I was dusty faced, wrapped tightly. Stella didn’t recognize me, parents coming to pick her also didn’t recognize me. Mom roughly pushed me away, hugged Stella, “Let me see, not hurt right?” “Mom, look he hooked my dress broken, want him compensate my dress.” Mom looked at me contemptuously, “Just his poor look, bankrupt also can’t afford your dress.” Dad coldly opened mouth, “Actually made my daughter cry, not hurry kneel down kowtow apologize to my daughter.” I lowered head stiff on spot. Trying hard to hold back tears about to burst from eyes. Manager Wang hurried over saw I caused trouble. Kicked my knee hollow, “Are you blind? Not hurry apologize.” I ate pain, plopped kneeling on ground. He pressed my head, knocked on marble floor thump thump dozen times. Fawningly said: “Mr. Sterling, you see this okay?” Roaring sound exploded in ears. My head buzzed dizzy. Dizzier than being crit hit few punches when sparring in fight club. Dad saw blood on my forehead, disgusted said: “Alright, don’t scare my daughter.” Mom softly coaxed Stella, “Good daughter don’t angry, mom custom make another one for you, next time see this kind person stay far away.” They hugged Stella walked past me, didn’t even spare half peripheral vision to me. Manager Wang viciously said: “Only Mr. Sterling generous, otherwise what you use to compensate?” I stood up gritting teeth, used sleeve wipe blood on forehead, “Big deal pay with life!” Finished ignored his astonished expression, stumbled left hotel. Night. I went to nursing home take care parents as usual. To save night shift nursing fee. I always personally serve them. Even nurse sister in nursing home praised me, actually learned full set nursing for them. Pushed open parents’ room, a disgusting smell came to face. Mom tears hitting bed board, face full shame said: “I really useless! Completely can’t control bowel movement, better let me die.” Dad trembling hand wiped a tear, “Nancy, is us dragged you down, you go, don’t care us.” They acted paralyzed patients’ collapse and helplessness vividly. Instead foiled me living like a clown. I silently walked over, wiped and changed for Mom. In three years this kind of thing, I did countless times. Skilled like an emotionless machine. Mom always loved beauty, before pretending paralysis she was famous temperament beauty in circle. Didn’t expect to punish me, actually made herself into this dirty look. Heart like torn a big hole, constantly pouring cold wind. I really want ask her, “Worth it?” Chapter 3 I took changed sheets and quilt cover to hand wash. Nurse sister looked at me sympathetically, “Nancy, your mom pooped on bed again?” I nodded. Before I couldn’t read sympathy in her eyes, now understood all. Whole nursing home, only me kept in dark like a fool, really ironic enough. I expressionless scrubbed sheets. Biting chill transmitted from fingertips to heart. Until skin on hands all scrubbed rotten. Looking at these hands with thick joints, full of scars. I couldn’t help dropping two lines of tears. Originally these hands were to paint my beautiful future on canvas. Pity now can’t even hold paintbrush. Half hour later, I returned to room. Mom looked at me carefully, “Sorry, Nancy, added trouble to you again.” She carefully examined expression on my face, suddenly nervously asked: “What happened to your forehead? Why pasted with band-aid?” Dad also anxiously said: “Quick let me see, you wouldn’t be bullied right?” Unscrupulously punishing me are parents. Red eyes heartaching me also parents. Parents’ love exactly true or fake. If true, why I can’t feel a trace warmth. I bitter smiled, “Nothing serious, I accidentally damaged a socialite’s clothes, her parents let me knock head broken then let me go.” “Lucky just let me kowtow, if really let me pay, I can only pay her with life.” Parents looked at each other, face became unnatural. This night, I slept on folding bed, heavy hearted like parents. Next day, I got up with dark circles. Helped them wash, massage, eat breakfast. Mom tentatively asked: “Nancy, do you have something on mind?” I pulled a trace smile on mouth corner, “My biggest mind matter is you guys healthy.” “Even use my this life to exchange, I also willing.” Mom stunned, panic in eyes, “Talk nonsense, our family all want be good.” Dad blurted out, “Right, wait we recover, will also become richest, that time you are Sterling family heir.” But Mom Dad. I don’t even want you guys anymore, want what heir. This position let give to Stella. From now on, your family of three love each other. “Nancy, tell you good news.” Dr. Lewis walked in excitedly said: “Foreign country developed a new drug, only need a week can let your parents stand up again.” Parents wept with joy, “Really?” I also instantly entered play, “Dr. Lewis, can recover to what state?” “No difference from normal person, but can’t overwork later.” “That really great!” But I difficultly said: “But, is… isn’t it cost lot money, I don’t have that much money now.” “Fee you don’t worry, our nursing home will fully responsible your parents treatment fee, today I send people take them abroad.” I immediately bowed deeply to Dr. Lewis, “Too thank you Director.” Since everyone acting. Then why not I accompany them do this play full. Just don’t know when they acting in front of me, will conscience hurt. Subsequently, I happily carried bag go work. Parents seeing me believed true, lifted heart finally put down. Dr. Lewis wiped sweat, “I still afraid Nancy question, prepared a pile speech, result she didn’t even ask.” Dad long exhaled, “I also worried, didn’t expect so smooth.” But Mom watching my distant back. Thin like anytime blown down by wind. Heart actually had a trace bear not. “No one hopes we recover more than Nancy, these years indeed bittered her, did we do too much?” “If not sharpen her temper like this, can she change back? You didn’t look those years she just came back, did how much evil.” “I always feel heart not steady, last punishment cancel ba.” “No, promised Stella matter must do, this matter you don’t care, I have own measure.” Chapter 4 Out of nursing home. I wandered aimlessly. Actually unknowingly walked near our previously sold villa. I saw from far, garden flowers blooming bright. Stella holding coffee, leisurely sitting on lounge chair playing games. At this time, parents’ luxury car drove into gate. Stella an arrow step rushed up. “Mom Dad, you finally back, today I let Nanny Zhang made steak air transported from New Zealand, let’s go taste together.” “Just drink the red wine I brought from France few days ago, how about it?” Mom looked at her with smile, “All listen to you, lucky have you, arrange us clearly every day.” Sourness in eyes surged down, stop couldn’t stop. When I ate steamed bun with pickles, they ate big meal in villa. When I sweat back earning hard money, they gathered in villa. … Reality just caught off guard fiercely gave me a slap like this. Hit me eyes seeing stars. I thought Stella ungrateful ran early. Result she under parents’ wings, raised like flower delicate. Dad took out a card handed to Stella. “Money in this card, all earned by your sister, count her compensation to you, treat as your pocket money this month.” If remember correctly. These three years, I totally earned more than five million. Thousand plus days and nights, I paid hardship ordinary people can’t imagine for this. Reluctant wear, reluctant eat, money saved penny by penny. Just like this treated as pocket money by Dad, turned hand gave to Stella. I dead bit lip, mouth full blood smell. This is kin I missed day and night, found back from far away. Originally wanted feel warmth of kinship on them, didn’t expect encountering three feet cold ice. I don’t know how I left. Until passerby reminded my phone ringing always. I then recovered, picked up phone. “Nancy, why not answer phone? Not coming this morning?” “Boss Li, later I not go fight club.” Boss Li obviously surprised, “Aren’t you very short money? Did you find more earning job?” I silenced. Really no way explain our family’s absurd matter to Boss Li. “Nancy, no matter say what, you have to come help me today, that guest came again, designated want you accompany him practice boxing.” “You also know, these years business not good do, look at sake I always took care you, come save scene quick.” Boss Li indeed helped me lot, every time assigned most earning job to me. I hesitated again and again then agreed. Arrived fight club, Boss Li let me change protective suit, also repeatedly instructed me. “Nancy, that guest still old rule, let you wear headgear, let him blind hit, you halfway can’t take off headgear.” Weird guests in fight club seen many, I also not surprised. That mysterious guest, I never knew who he is. Although he hit ruthless, but can give me three times price, this is enough. I actively wore black headgear. On boxing ring, relied on sound dodge left right. But guest this time seemed hit more excited, opened full fire on me. I dodge not in time, hit by his punch on lower abdomen. A muffled hum haven’t had time emit. Followed second punch hit my stomach again, sour water in stomach fiercely surged up. I hurt bent waist. His fists densely smashed on my head, thump thump sounding. My eyes black, hands feet soft, no power to parry. Can only let his fists fall on body. Such scene happens every day, I already beaten used to. Look at money sake, I always raw endured. This time is last time, just treat I paid back Boss Li favor. I don’t know how many punches I took. Only know pain, pain to numb, pain to even no strength moan. Coaxing laughter and whistles under stage endless. Last punch he hit on my temple. I finally couldn’t hold, head plunged ground. Just last moment my consciousness dissipated. Guest leaned close my ear said: “Sister, thank you for sparring, these three years I hit very happy.” “You still don’t know right, today this match is private booking Mom Dad specially arranged for me, they just sit under stage, watching helpless you beaten by me…” Blood water mixed sweat flowed into wound, pain like needle prick. But pain again compare not heartache. I finally understood. Dad’s last punishment is what. People present today, afraid all friends he invited to act. That string tight in brain thoroughly broke. Next moment, I fell into endless black hole, deeply fell in. Mom clenched fists tight, always staring me on stage. I fell on ground, she instantly panicked, “Nancy won’t have matter right?” Dad patted her hand. “Relax, Stella that little girl first time boxing, looks ruthless, actually hand no much strength.” “Let her vent anger, also counts last punishment to Nancy.” “Moreover Boss Li said Nancy as sparring partner very good at pretending, won’t have matter.” I woke up in hospital. Doctor said I broke three ribs. I sadly looked at ceiling, let tears wet temples. At this time, Dad’s text came. [Nancy, we about to board plane, you just wait a healthy Mom Dad back.] I input several times then deleted, finally replied nothing. Stayed in hospital few days, I arrived signing institution according agreed time. Just moment cryo chamber about to close. I received Dad message: [Nancy, we finally recovered, now immediately back country. You come airport pick Mom Dad.] I contemplated long time, tearfully typed a paragraph. [Mom Dad, afraid can’t do, I going. Now I return you to Stella, wish your family of three happy perfect.] Cold cabin door slowly closed. I fell into endless black hole again. Outside one after another urgent phone ringtone rang. Pity never get answer again…

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Julian never knew that on the night I pointed a gun at his head and demanded a breakup… I was three months pregnant with his child. He only knew I had gone mad. That I wanted to kill his mistress and their baby, and then end myself. When he choked me and threw me to the ground, he roared with disgust: “Do I not have the right to choose someone else?” “Am I stuck with a filthy ex-con like you for the rest of my life?” He walked away, protecting his mistress and her child, never looking back. He didn’t see the blood pooling beneath me. Three years later. We were strangers. I bumped into Julian at the entrance of the OB-GYN clinic. He was carefully shielding his new girlfriend. When his eyes landed on my baby bump, his feet were nailed to the floor. “Are you here alone?” I nodded calmly. The nurse called my name. As I stood up, Julian’s voice came from behind, hoarse and strained. “Scarlett, about back then… I’m sorry.” I didn’t stop. I walked away as if I heard nothing. Chapter 1 During the checkup, the doctor asked the routine question: “Any history of miscarriage?” I nodded and whispered, “Yes. Three years ago.” On that Christmas Eve three years ago. I lost Julian. And I lost that baby. Seeing him now, my heart no longer ached. After the checkup, I met my best friend for lunch. She studied my calm face and suddenly teared up. “Scarlett, I still can’t believe you actually moved on.” “Back then, you were so crazy over that scumbag Julian. It scared me.” I looked down at the steak on my plate. Yeah. Back then, I wasn’t human. I was a maniac. From eighteen to twenty-five. Seven years entangled with Julian Vance. It ended in a bloodbath in New York. I held a gun to his forehead. He strangled me with red eyes. We both wanted to win. But we both lost everything. Julian and I were two weeds growing in the cracks of the foster care system. I was wild and loved trouble. Julian was gentle, mature beyond his years. But every time there was trouble, he stood in front of me. I stole someone’s bread. But Julian was the one beaten black and blue. I swore then that when I grew up, I would protect him. Later, I grew into a young woman. My foster father started making me serve tea to his “special guests.” Julian never left my side, blocking those disgusting, sticky gazes. Until that day. He came home from school and found me covered in blood, shaking. The foster father was unconscious on the floor, pants half-down. Julian walked over, expressionless, and stomped on the man’s crotch. Crunch. He washed the blood from my hands and wiped my tears. We ran away that night. I was thirteen. He was sixteen. We slept under bridges. We ate out of dumpsters. Once, a kind stranger gave us a burger, and we were beaten half to death for it. I envied kids in uniforms. So Julian secretly worked construction to save for my tuition. The day I got into school, I hugged him and cried. He patted my head, his rough fingers gentle. “I’ll give you a good life, Scarlett.” Life did get better. Julian was brilliant and knew how to read people. In three years, he climbed from a laborer to the corporate office. I, however, struggled in school. Julian comforted me. He got a transfer to New York. We would start over there. A bright future was waiting. That night, I was too excited to sleep. But just before we were set to leave… The foster father brought the police. He claimed Julian castrated him. He wanted Julian to rot in prison. While Julian was away on business, I confessed to everything. I was sixteen. Sentenced for assault with a deadly weapon. When Julian visited me in juvie, crying and calling me stupid, I laughed heartlessly. I was already mud. But he had to be clean. Two years later, I was released. I flew straight to New York to find him. Twenty-one-year-old Julian. Suits, luxury cars, cold and noble. Only when he looked at me did his eyes soften with indulgence. Here, no one knew our dirty past. We were reborn. On my eighteenth birthday, drunk on cheap wine, I kissed him. That night, we became each other’s. The pressure of survival was suffocating. We clung to each other for warmth. Neither of us thought that one day, I would point a gun at him. And he would strangle me, wishing I were dead. When I was twenty-four, Julian became CEO. He was busier. I did nothing but enjoy life. He kept his promise. But I wasn’t happy. I noticed the perfume on his shirts. I acted jealous, telling him to stay away from other women. Julian was always patient. He never exposed me. He would just whisper in my ear during sex: “It’s all for you. There’s no one else, silly.” I relaxed. We grew up together. We survived hell together. I should trust him. Until Chloe appeared. She was the most invisible intern in his office. Skinny, gray, like a frightened quail. Julian disliked her stupidity and wanted to fire her. Seeing her trembling, I felt pity. I intervened and saved her job. Julian frowned but agreed. “Just this once.” When Chloe looked at me with gratitude, blushing, I smiled. I didn’t know I had just saved a demon who would devour me. That night, Julian bit my lip punishingly. “Like saving people so much?” “Why don’t you beg me now?” Later, the name Chloe appeared frequently in our conversations. At first, it was mocking: “That idiot you saved spilled coffee on a contract today.” I kissed him, praising his patience. Then, the tone changed: “That little intern fell asleep at her desk. Drooled everywhere.” “She’s so clumsy. Spilled water on herself and tried to borrow my jacket.” I interrupted: “Did you lend it to her?” Julian paused, then rolled his eyes. “Could I refuse? She’s the one you saved.” As he climbed higher, he got busier. Our conversations dwindled. Either silence, or Chloe. It was like we couldn’t talk without mentioning her. I felt uneasy, but I chose to trust him. He was the man I loved for so many years. Until one day, I felt nauseous and went to the doctor. At the end of the hallway in the OB-GYN clinic, I saw two familiar figures. Julian was carefully supporting Chloe. Intimate. Protective. Panic seized me. My rationality collapsed. Blood rushed to my head. I couldn’t hear anything. By the time I snapped back, I had already rushed over and kicked Chloe to the ground. Chloe screamed, clutching her stomach. “Julian… it hurts… the baby…” Julian looked up. His eyes were colder than ice. He didn’t explain. He didn’t even look at me again. He scooped Chloe up and shouted for a doctor. I didn’t know how I got home. The lights were on, but my home was gone. We entered a cold war. He didn’t come home for two weeks. When he did, he packed his bags. I screamed, grabbing his sleeve, asking why. He wouldn’t say a word. He just stood there, arms crossed, watching me smash everything in the house like a lunatic. Six months ago, we were picking out wedding dresses. Planning for a baby. I didn’t understand how a heart could change so fast. I went to his office, but the secretary blocked me. I became a stalker. I watched him and Chloe. I watched him go to her prenatal checkups. I watched him move his things into her small apartment. I even fantasized that maybe he had terminal cancer and was pushing me away to save me pain. Until I saw him rolling in bed with the pregnant Chloe. That moment, all excuses crumbled. I rushed in, dragged Chloe off the bed by her hair, and slapped her twice. Hearing her scream gave me no pleasure. Only sorrow. This wasn’t the future I dreamed of. Julian sat on the messy bed, buttoning his shirt slowly. He wasn’t even angry. He looked down at me like I was a shrew. His gaze stabbed my heart. My grip loosened. Julian got off the bed. He gently removed my hand from Chloe’s hair. Then—he shoved me hard. I stumbled back, hitting the wall. He adjusted his cuffs, his voice icy. “Scarlett, don’t be ungrateful.” “Everything you have, I gave you. If you don’t want it, plenty of others do.” He glanced at me. “If you behave, the wedding is still on at the end of the year. If you keep making scenes, I’ll send you back to the slums to rot.” Through my blurred vision, I didn’t recognize him. I didn’t know what I did wrong. To save us, I tried everything. Therapy. Psychics… But I only got more disgust from him. Later, he stopped coming home entirely. He bought a luxury condo opposite his office for Chloe. He wouldn’t see me. I threatened suicide. I stood on the roof of his company all night. I cut my wrists. But I got nothing. Not even a look. My health deteriorated. When I realized I missed my period, I saw a glimmer of hope. Holding the ultrasound, I cried in the hospital hallway. Three months pregnant. I thought God had given me a lifeline. Julian loved kids. He wanted a family. With this baby, we could be a family again. I suppressed my excitement and called him. “Julian, come home for dinner. I have good news.” Maybe because I sounded so humble, so pathetic. Silence. Then, a charitable “Okay.” At 8 PM, I wore his favorite red dress and cooked his favorite meal. The lock turned. Julian walked in. I threw myself into his arms, hugging his waist tight, sobbing. “Julian… I can’t live without you.” “Let’s stop fighting, okay? We’re going to have…” Before I could finish, a timid voice came from the door. “Julian… Mary says it’s time to feed Little Annie.” “She cries when she doesn’t see her daddy.” My blood froze. Annie. That was the name Julian picked for our daughter. He had a daughter with Chloe. Then what is the baby in my belly? Before I could speak, Julian stiffened. He shielded Chloe behind him. Like I was a monster who would hurt his treasure. He frowned, impatient. “Didn’t you say you had good news? Spit it out. I don’t have time.” His eagerness to comfort her child stung my eyes. “Annie?” I whispered. “That’s the name you promised our daughter! How could you give it to her?!” Julian’s eyes were dead calm. “It’s just a name. Why are you so petty?” “Chloe is weak. Don’t throw a fit here.” He looked me up and down, disgust filling his eyes. “Scarlett, look in the mirror.” “You look like a crazy hag right now.” Crazy hag? My mind went blank. I stared at his impatient face and Chloe’s provoking smirk behind him. Hatred consumed my reason. I shoved Julian aside, grabbed Chloe by her hair, and dragged her screaming into my car. “Ah!! Julian, save me!!” Julian roared behind me. I didn’t listen. I locked the doors and floored the gas. Seeing Chloe’s terrified face in the passenger seat gave me a thrill. I drove like a maniac to their condo. I ignored the nanny, rushed into the bedroom, and grabbed the baby. I also took the gun Julian kept in the nightstand drawer. Five minutes later, Julian and Chloe stood before me again. Chloe wept in his arms. The tragic lovers. And I was the villain. How ironic. I pointed the gun at the baby in my arms. “Chloe, kneel and beg me.” “Or I shoot this bastard!” Julian turned purple. “Scarlett!! Are you insane?!” I looked at his eyes, filled with murderous intent. Was this really the Julian who survived hell with me? I once paid a psychic to see if he was possessed. Because the real Julian would never hurt me like this. While I was distracted… Julian snatched the baby and handed her to Chloe. His other hand clamped onto my wrist, trying to disarm me. Bang— The gunshot was deafening. A hole appeared in the ceiling. When I came to, my gun was pressed against his forehead. And Julian had me pinned to the bed, choking me. His eyes were red, veins popping. He cursed: “Scarlett, you are a lunatic!” “You curse! Why don’t you just die?!” Why don’t you just die. I laughed. Tears streamed down my face as I laughed. The boy who saved me from the devil was now the man cursing me to die. Why was I alive? His voice echoed in my head. Fine. As you wish. I twisted my wrist. The gun pointed at my own temple. Julian’s face changed. He slapped the gun away. Clatter. The gun flew across the room. Julian seemed relieved. Then he shoved me. Hard. I flew backward. My lower abdomen slammed into the sharp corner of the bed frame. Pain exploded. I fell to the floor, curling up to protect my belly. Julian looked at his hand, dazed for a second. He took a step toward me. But the next second, Chloe screamed. “Julian! Help! The baby isn’t breathing!” Julian withdrew his hand. He didn’t look at me again. He turned and ran out with Chloe and his child. Warm liquid flowed down my legs, staining the white carpet red. The fear of losing my baby woke my survival instinct. I endured the agony and crawled toward the door. I reached out, grasping only air. “Julian…” “Save… our baby…” But that day, only the wind heard me.

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I was my stepbrother’s little shadow, always chasing after him. But he hated me, the child his stepmother brought into the family. Still, I never learned my lesson. Even when bullied, I would just bury my face in his palm and cry: “Brother, I like you the most.” It seemed that no matter how he treated me, I would always adore him. Later, when college applications came around, everyone thought I would apply to the local university to continue being his sidekick. Instead, I decisively applied to A University, the furthest one from home. 1 After submitting college applications, my classmates laughingly asked where I applied. Before I could answer, someone chimed in. “Do you even need to ask? He definitely applied to the local university. Look at how clingy he is with his brother. Total bro-con!” “True, but his brother treats him really well. Latest sneakers, limited edition figures, whatever he wants, he gets. His brother goes to all the parent-teacher conferences, and if it rains, one call and his brother picks him up right at the school building!” Their tone was half teasing, half envious. Ethan Vance was rich, powerful, and doted on his younger brother. Who wouldn’t want a brother like that? I smiled without saying a word. As if silently agreeing that I would apply locally. In reality, I had already applied to A University, the furthest possible choice. I’ve been Ethan’s dog for eight years. Finally, I see the dawn! 2 But before the acceptance letter arrived, I still had to be Ethan’s obedient little brother. One call from him, and I rushed home in a panic. The villa was brightly lit. Ethan had come back early from his business trip. The front door was open. Like a beast with its mouth wide open, waiting for me, the lamb, to walk right in. With no one to supervise me for a while, plus the excitement of escaping Ethan soon, I had let myself go completely. Drinking, clubbing, staying out all night. Afraid Ethan would find out, I always snuck out from the second floor. Who knew he would come back early? In the study. Ethan sat in a leather chair, flipping through a document. His brow was cold, black shirt sleeves rolled up slightly, looking abstinent and noble. When I came in, he didn’t even lift his eyelids. “Where did you go?” He asked calmly, but I could feel the immense pressure in those words. Coming back at 2 AM to find his good little brother had snuck out and stayed out all night. His anger must be extraordinary. The more scared I was, the sweeter I smiled. I squatted beside him, looking up to act cute. “Bro, I swear this is the first time! My friends asked me so many times before I went. We just sang some karaoke.” Only then did he lower his eyes to look at me. Ethan usually fell for my coquetry. But this time, I couldn’t brush him off. He sneered lightly, no smile in his eyes. “Little Yan learned to lie to his brother too?” Cold sweat instantly broke out on my back. He knew everything. Ethan stopped talking, looking down at my collar. His gaze grew colder and colder. I followed his line of sight and looked down. There was a lipstick smudge on my collar. It happened at the bar when I helped a girl who almost fell. I’m done for. “Bro, this isn’t…” Before I could explain, I heard him say calmly. “Eighteen years old. Old enough to date.” He looked at the lipstick mark, seemingly finding it an eyesore, then looked up at me again. His thumb rubbed against my lips. Using some force. I cried out in pain, and his finger slipped into my mouth. I didn’t dare bite him, just kept my mouth open obediently. Ethan’s eyes were dark, his tone indistinguishable: “Doing it until midnight?” I had a puppy love phase before, which Ethan nipped in the bud. He warned me not to date before I was an adult. Now that I’m an adult. His reaction didn’t seem any more lenient than before. I quickly explained: “I didn’t date, and didn’t do anything. This was an accident, really! If you don’t believe me, look!” Afraid of his misunderstanding, I lifted my shirt to show him. Except for the lipstick on the clothes, there were no marks anywhere else! Ethan’s gaze stopped on my lean waist and abdomen, his eyes darkening slightly. “Take it off.” 3 I didn’t think much of it, lifted the hem and took off my shirt. Ethan raised an eyebrow, his gaze moving down to my belt, darker than before. He seemed to be signaling me to continue. I was a bit embarrassed. “I don’t need to take off more, do I?” “Shy?” Who’s shy? Maybe the alcohol went to my head, I couldn’t help but retort. “Then why don’t you strip?” Ethan’s lips curled slightly at my words, saying meaningfully: “Want to strip mine?” Is this something a brother should say to his brother? I only dared to complain internally. “If Bro wants me to strip, of course I will.” We have the same parts, why be afraid of you looking? I was confident in my figure. Stripped down to my boxers. Seeing Ethan with legs crossed, watching leisurely. His expression was calm, seemingly unmoved. I was a bit annoyed. Hooked the edge of my boxers and pulled down two inches, teasingly. Satisfied to see Ethan squint. I thought I must have disgusted him. What man likes looking at another man’s body? I was happy and licked my lips. Asked him in a fake sweet tone: “Bro, strip more?” “No need. Close the door on your way out.” His voice was slightly hoarse, as if suppressing something. He looked away, not looking at me anymore. Hehe. I knew I disgusted him. 4 I came to the Vance family with my mom when I was ten. We were a blended family. I thought we were moving from one apartment to another. Turned out we moved into a huge manor. Got the hidden rare edition. Mom said there was an older brother at home, told me to be good and listen to him. Ethan was already very handsome as a teenager, high nose, thin lips, noble and arrogant. I listened to my mom and tried to please him, being his little shadow, running after him. The most frequent thing I said was: “Brother, I like you!” But his attitude towards me was very cold. I knew he didn’t like me. One day I waited for him at his classroom door as usual, but heard he left ten minutes early. He was annoyed that I came to find him. It rained heavily that day. I walked home alone in the rain. When the driver found me, I was freezing all over. Got a high fever after getting home. Everyone surrounded me, but I only wanted my brother. Ethan condescended to come. Clearly he was the culprit who left me behind and caused my fever. But I just pitifully buried my face in his palm and cried. “Brother, I like you the most.” Ethan had heard this many times. It seemed no matter how he treated me, I would always like him. My burning face buried softly in his palm. He looked down at me, holding my tearful face. For the first time, he didn’t resist my closeness. Heard me whispering. “Brother, I like you, I listen to you, please don’t hate me, okay?” “Brother, I’m so scared, sleep with me, okay?” I waited for a few seconds, thinking there was no hope. But heard him agree: “Mmh.” His expression was still cold, but something seemed to melt in his eyes. I was stunned. That night Ethan really slept next to me. I deliberately burrowed into his arms, breathing against his face. Ethan didn’t push me away, instead let me hug him. The next day he got a fever too. Actually, I could have just waited at school yesterday; the driver would have come back for me. But I insisted on leaving and deliberately broke my phone watch. Deliberately got rained on to make Ethan feel guilty, and wanted to pass the cold to him. Resulting in an unexpected harvest. Since that time, he no longer resisted contact with me, his stepbrother. Tacitly allowed my approach, giving whatever I asked. Seemed to have circled me into his territory. My status skyrocketed. From the unfavored stepbrother to the brother’s palm treasure. The premise was I had to be his obedient little brother.

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“Mr. Harrison, I’m tendering my resignation. I’m taking a position at Aether Digital.” The conference room went silent for three seconds. Mr. Harrison’s hand, hovering over his coffee mug, froze mid-air. He didn’t even look up. “Ava Maxwell, what kind of joke is this?” “It’s not a joke.” I placed the resignation letter on the mahogany table. “My last day is next Monday.” He finally lifted his eyes and smiled. I knew that smile too well—the exact expression he’d given me for the past decade, every time I asked for a raise, every time I requested a promotion. “Right.” He pushed the letter back across the table. “You get back to your projects. We’ll talk about this later.” He assumed I would do what I’d always done: swallow my frustration, go back to my desk, and let it blow over. But this time, it was different. 1. My name is Ava Maxwell. I am thirty-five years old. I had been at Apex Solutions for ten full years, starting as an intern and working my way up. My title? Senior Engineer. I started as a Junior Engineer ten years ago, moved to Mid-Level after three, and hit Senior two years after that. And then, nothing. I had been stuck with the Senior Engineer title for five long years. Every year-end review, I was told I was “almost there.” Every time the promotion list was published, my name was missing. Mr. Harrison’s line was always the same: “The budget is tight this year. Be patient, Ava. Next year, I promise, next year we’ll put your name forward.” I had heard that line for five years. I believed it the first year. I held onto hope the second. I started to doubt the third. By the fourth, I was thoroughly defeated. Yet, I stayed. Why? Because I was a pure coder. I wasn’t good at office politics, I didn’t know how to network, and I was terrified of jumping ship. I was thirty-five, with a daughter in kindergarten and a mortgage that was still twenty years away from being paid off. That fear kept me paralyzed. Mr. Harrison knew this. He never worried about me leaving. What happened this morning, though, was the final, devastating straw. In the morning meeting, Mr. Harrison announced the good news: the company had secured its Series C funding, valuing us at $1.2 billion. Everyone clapped. Then he said, “This wouldn’t have happened without the tireless work of our Sales team, and of course, a big thank you to Noah from Product for that beautifully optimized algorithm model.” I sat in the back corner, my nails digging into my palms as I listened. The algorithm model? I wrote that algorithm. Three years ago, the company’s core business hit a wall; the recommendation system accuracy was stuck in the mud. I spent four months rewriting the entire algorithm from scratch. The day we launched, accuracy shot from 67% to 89%. Our daily active users—our DAU—jumped from 500,000 to 3 million. That data secured our Series B funding. But the credit? It went to Noah. He was a recent college grad then, barely knew how to read the code, but he was Mr. Harrison’s guy. Good at building slides. Good at telling the story. And me? I was in the corner, writing code. No one ever asked me for a single word. After the meeting, I Slack-messaged Mr. Harrison: The algorithm was my work. He instantly replied: I know, I know. But internal reporting is about collaboration and teamwork. Don’t worry about the superficial stuff. Superficial? I followed up: What about the year-end bonus, given the C-Round success? He didn’t reply. At noon, I got the HR notification for my annual bonus. I opened it— $500. Five hundred dollars. I stared at the number for three minutes. Last year was $500, the year before was $500, the year before that was $500. I wrote the core algorithm that secured two rounds of funding for this company, and my reward was five hundred dollars. In the afternoon, a message came in from a headhunter. Aether Digital, our main competitor, was trying to poach me. To be honest, headhunters reached out all the time, and I always ignored them. Today, I clicked on the details. The offer: Architect title, double my current salary, plus equity. I read it over and over. Then I opened a document and wrote my resignation letter. At 3 p.m., I knocked on Mr. Harrison’s office door. “Mr. Harrison, I’m tendering my resignation. I’m taking a position at Aether Digital.” He was eating a pastry for his afternoon snack and nearly choked. “Excuse me?” “I quit. I’m leaving next Monday.” He put down his fork, his surprise quickly hardening into a look of arrogant dismissal. “Ava, you’re being impulsive.” I said nothing. “Do you know what the competition is like? They work you harder, the benefits are worse.” He put on his most serious tone. “You’ve been here ten years, Ava. Your foundation is here. You won’t adapt out there.” “I appreciate the concern.” “And you’re thirty-five,” he lowered his voice, the condescension thick. “Truthfully, who is going to hire you at that age?” I smiled. “Aether Digital is.” “Them?” His brow furrowed. “What could that pathetic company possibly offer you?” “Architect, double my salary, and a team to lead.” Mr. Harrison’s composure cracked for a split second. “Impossible. Your technical skills are good, but—” “But what?” He didn’t finish the sentence. I placed the letter on the desk. “Mr. Harrison, here is my resignation. Please sign it.” He didn’t move. “Go back to your desk and cool off.” He was back to his usual detached calm. “Apex has been good to you. You need to think this through.” “I’ve been thinking for ten years,” I said. “I’m perfectly clear.” He waved his hand. “Fine. Go back to work. We’ll discuss this later.” I turned to leave. As I reached the door, I heard him mutter under his breath: “A coder. What kind of wave does a coder think she can make?” I didn’t look back. Ten years. I was finally walking out. 2. When I got home that evening, my husband, Sam Peterson, was making dinner. “You’re early tonight, honey.” “I quit.” The spatula he was holding dropped onto the floor with a clatter. “What did you say?” “I quit. I’m going to the competitor.” Sam froze for a long moment, then bent down, picked up the spatula, and rinsed it under the tap. “Honey, are you… are you serious?” “Dead serious.” He turned off the stove and turned to face me. “What happened?” I recounted the entire day: the $500 bonus, the credit stolen for the algorithm, and Mr. Harrison’s parting shot: “What kind of wave does a coder think she can make?” Sam listened, then was silent for a long time. “Is Aether Digital a solid move?” “It is. The headhunter has been after me for two years. This is the best offer yet.” “The salary?” “Double.” Sam sucked in a breath. “That much?” “Yes.” He fell silent again. I knew what he was thinking. The mortgage. The car payments. Our daughter’s private school tuition. The monthly expenses weighed on us like a mountain. My salary was the main source of income. This decision wasn’t mine alone. “Do you support me?” I asked. Sam looked at me for a long time. “I support you,” he said. “You should have left years ago.” I was stunned. “You know,” he continued, “for ten years, I watched you work until midnight, watched you deal with work Slack on weekends, watched you get robbed of credit and stiffed on raises, and you never complained.” He paused. “But I did.” “I was complaining to the walls. I wanted to tell you for years—that awful company doesn’t deserve you.” My eyes felt hot. “I didn’t dare say it, because I didn’t want to pressure you. But you made the decision yourself today, and I stand behind it.” He walked over and squeezed my shoulder. “Go for it, Ava. Don’t be afraid.” I was restless that night. I didn’t sleep well, not because of fear, but because of a nervous, exhilarating excitement. Ten years. I was finally leaving that place. Lying in bed, my mind raced through memories. Ten years ago, Apex Solutions was a tiny startup. Twenty-something people crammed into a run-down office building. I was the third person on the technical team. We did everything. Wrote code, fixed bugs, set up servers, ran ops. Once, the system crashed, and I stayed up for three days straight, single-handedly bringing it back online. The company grew, slowly. From 20 people to 100, then 500. Funding rounds kept coming; the valuation soared. And me? I was still the “coder.” No. I was wrong. I wasn’t just the coder. Eighty percent of the company’s current core system was built on my foundational code. The recommendation algorithm was mine. The data processing module was mine. The user profiling system was mine. Even the company’s much-touted “Smart Matching Engine” was something I built from the ground up, alone. Every line of that code had my signature. Every commit had a timestamp. But what did it matter? The code was running on the servers; the credit was running on someone else’s PowerPoint slides. I remembered three years ago. We were pushing for Series B. The investors were skeptical of our technical capabilities. Mr. Caldwell, the owner, came to me personally. “Ava, can you build something for me? Something that proves our technical superiority?” I said yes. I spent four months rewriting the recommendation algorithm. The result? You know it. DAU from 500,000 to 3 million. Series B secured. At the celebration party, Mr. Caldwell said, “Sales and Product were instrumental in this round!” He didn’t mention my name once. Afterward, Mr. Harrison pulled me aside. “Ava, everyone knows your contribution, but a celebration is about the big picture.” I asked, “What about my promotion?” Mr. Harrison replied: “Budget is tight this year. Next year, I promise, we’ll put your name forward.” Next year. Always next year. I recalled last year. A new entry-level developer, Ben, joined. Three months into his job, I discovered his salary was higher than mine. I asked HR. “The market is different now,” they said. “Recent graduates are expensive. You have to be understanding.” I had been there for eight years. I wrote the core system. My salary was lower than a new grad’s? HR said, “Ava, compensation is sensitive. Please don’t discuss it.” I didn’t discuss it. But I kept a running tally in my head. When I joined, my salary was $6,000 a month. Ten years later, it was $12,000. A 100% increase. Sounds okay? But industry-wide, a peer with my experience and impact made at least double what I did. What value had I created for Apex over ten years? What did Apex give me in return? A $500 bonus. A meaningless “Senior Engineer” title. And an endless supply of “next year, I promise.” With that thought, the restless excitement settled into a quiet certainty. It was time to leave. Truly time. 3. The next morning, I went to work as usual. Only Mr. Harrison knew about my resignation. I did my job: fixed bugs, wrote code, attended meetings. At 10 a.m., Mr. Harrison called me into his office. “Ava, about yesterday. Think it over.” “I have thought it over.” “Is this about the bonus?” he probed. “I can go to bat for you on that.” “No need.” “Is it the promotion? The spots were genuinely tight this year, but next year—” “Mr. Harrison,” I cut him off. “I’ve been hearing ‘next year’ in this office for five years.” He was speechless. “And,” I continued, “I’m not here to negotiate. I’m here to confirm the separation process.” His face darkened. “Do you realize how many projects will be affected if you walk out?” “I do.” “And you still want to leave?” “Mr. Harrison,” I looked straight at him. “These projects are affected not because I’m leaving, but because you allowed only one person to do all the core development for a decade.” He paused. “What is that supposed to mean?” “Mr. Harrison, I want to ask you a question. Do you know who wrote the company’s recommendation system?” “Well…” He hesitated. “The Tech Department did, collectively?” “No. I wrote it. Alone.” “The data processing module?” “Also me.” “The user profiling system?” “Me.” “The Smart Matching Engine?” “Still me.” His expression shifted completely. “Are you suggesting…” “Mr. Harrison, I’ve worked here for ten years. Eighty percent of this company’s core system code is my work.” I emphasized every syllable. “Every line has my signature. Every commit has a timestamp.” “I… I know these things…” “Do you know what my salary is?” He stayed silent. “$12,000,” I said. “Ten years, from $6,000 to $12,000. Less than a double increase.” “How much value did I create for this company? What data did the investors look at for Series B? What algorithm was written on the Series C slides?” Mr. Harrison’s face grew pale. “Ava, calm down—” “I am perfectly calm,” I said. “I haven’t been this calm in ten years.” I stood up. “I gave you my resignation yesterday. Please sign it.” He didn’t move. “Wait,” Mr. Harrison suddenly called out. “You said you’re going to the competitor?” “Yes.” “What are you taking with you?” I looked at him. His eyes had changed. Gone was the disdain; replaced by pure, cold panic. “Mr. Harrison,” I said. “What are you worried about?” He didn’t answer. “I won’t take the code; that is company property. But what’s in my head is mine.” “What does that mean?” “It means,” I said, slowly, distinctly, “the low-level logic of those algorithms, the architectural design, the optimization philosophy—it’s all in my brain.” “That stuff is backed up everywhere.” “But if I’m not here—” I didn’t finish, but the implication was devastatingly clear. Mr. Harrison’s expression finally shattered. He had just realized something profound: for ten years, he thought I was a disposable “coder.” In reality, the company’s most critical technical asset was walking out the door in the form of one person’s irreplaceable knowledge. “Ava,” he softened his tone. “Let’s talk this through. Don’t rush into this.” “I’m not rushing.” “Look, how about this—I will personally go to Mr. Caldwell about the raise. The promotion? I promise, you’ll be on the list this year.” I laughed. “Mr. Harrison, I’ve heard that promise for five years.” “This time is different—” “It’s always ‘different.’” I cut him off. “Mr. Harrison, ten years is enough. I’ve learned my lesson.” I turned and walked out of the office. Behind me, I heard his voice trailing after me: “Ava, come back! Think about what you’re doing!” I didn’t look back. At lunch, Noah, the junior colleague who took credit for my algorithm, ran into me in the cafeteria. “Ava, I heard you quit?” The news traveled fast. “I did.” “Why? Didn’t the company treat you well?” I looked at him. His expression was genuinely concerned. I realized he might truly not know. He didn’t know I wrote the algorithm. He didn’t know he stood on my shoulders to take the bow. He was just a standard corporate ladder-climber, doing what his boss told him to do. The banality of ignorance, I thought. He didn’t think he’d done anything wrong. He simply didn’t know, or maybe, he didn’t care to know. “Ava?” Noah looked awkward when I didn’t reply. “Did I say something wrong?” “No,” I said. “I’m just tired.” 4. That afternoon, the headhunter messaged me. “Ava, Aether has confirmed. The formal offer should be out next week.” “Great.” “They also want to schedule a technical chat this weekend, just to discuss future architectural direction.” “I’m available.” “One more thing,” the headhunter added. “Aether asked me to specify your exact responsibilities at Apex. Could you outline them?” I thought for a moment and typed out a message: “Core module of the recommendation algorithm—built from scratch.” “Data processing system—sole developer.” “User profiling system—sole developer.” “Smart Matching Engine—sole developer.” “All systems remain online, processing 120 million daily requests.” I added one final line: “Every line of that code has my signature.” The headhunter replied: “Ava, Aether is going to lose their mind when they see this resume.” I didn’t reply. All of that, at Apex, went unnoticed. Ten years. My code was running, processing 120 million requests a day. But my presence? A $500 bonus. Passed over for promotion every year. Credit stolen by a junior. I tried to fight for myself, once. Five years ago, after I was passed over for the first time, I went to Mr. Harrison. “Mr. Harrison, why wasn’t I promoted this year?” “Limited spots, Ava. You need more seniority.” “What seniority do I need?” “Just wait. Next year, it’s yours.” The next year, I was passed over again. The promotion went to a two-year employee—Mr. Caldwell’s nephew. I went back to Mr. Harrison. “Look… some things you just have to understand,” he said. “I can’t discuss it. Next year, I promise, I’ll put your name forward.” The third, fourth, and fifth years were the same. Always “next year.” Always “I can’t discuss it.” I gradually understood: promotions at Apex were never about capability. They were about connections, loyalty, and who could talk their way to the top. And me? I only knew how to write code. What good was that? Code doesn’t speak for itself. Mr. Harrison’s words, “A coder. What kind of wave does a coder think she can make?” meant exactly that. In his mind, technical staff were just tools. Use them hard when they’re useful; replace them when they’re not. After all, you can’t take the code with you. But he was wrong. You can’t take the code. But the person who writes the code can leave. And the knowledge in that person’s head is infinitely more valuable than the code itself. It took me ten years to finally realize that. Ten years to learn one thing: Unappreciated commitment is just self-deception. On Friday, before I left, Mr. Harrison called me in for one last conversation. His attitude was distinctly different this time. “Ava, have a seat.” He poured me a glass of water. “Have you cooled down this week?” “I’ve been perfectly cool.” “I briefed Mr. Caldwell on your situation,” Mr. Harrison said. “He’s taking it seriously.” “Oh?” “The company has decided to grant you a special, immediate promotion opportunity—” “Don’t bother,” I interrupted. “Hear me out. Promotion, raise, team lead—we can negotiate all of it.” I looked at him. “Mr. Harrison, are you offering me these things now because you finally value my work?” “Of course—” “Or because you’re terrified I’ll leave and the system will crash?” He froze. “I worked here for ten years,” I said. “When, during those ten years, did you ever value me?” “Look…” “Ten years, and my salary barely doubled. How much value did I create for this company? Series B, Series C—which round was not secured by my work?” “But when did you ever remember me?” “Only now, when I have one foot out the door, do you come to me with a counter-offer.” Mr. Harrison’s face was sullen. “Ava, that’s a bit harsh.” “Mr. Harrison,” I stood up. “It’s the truth.” “Will you sign my resignation, or not?” He was silent for a long time. “Are you absolutely sure about this?” “I am.” “Then wait.” His tone turned cold. “You can leave, but don’t take anything with you that belongs to the company.” I smiled. “Don’t worry, Mr. Harrison. I won’t take a single line of code.” “But what’s in my head is mine.” “What exactly do you mean by that?” “Mr. Harrison, you may have forgotten, but every line of the core code in that system was written by me. The digital signature is still there.” I looked at him. “If you don’t believe me, you can ask the Tech team to check the commit logs.” “See who wrote the most code over the last ten years.” Mr. Harrison’s face went dark, completely defeated. I turned and left. This time, he didn’t call out to me.

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For the three years I’ve been invisible, I thought Declan couldn’t see me. So I endured the shame of my nakedness, endured the nights he brought other women home while I could only hide in a corner. After they’d left, he would always tell me, “Thea, just wait a little longer. I swear I’ll develop the antidote.” I believed him. Until the night of his celebration party. He was drunk, and I heard him tell his friend: “The antidote? I’ve had it for ages.” “She’d never guess that in this entire world, I’m the only one who can see her.” 1 Declan’s new project had won a global award. By the time he came home from the celebration party, it was already late. Apparently, the party wasn’t enough. He brought his friend, Liam, back with him and pulled out a bottle of vintage red wine. I hid in the corner. Liam filled both their glasses. “Declan,” he asked, “Thea’s not around, right?” Declan loosened his tie, his tone dripping with contempt. “Her? She’s so prim and proper. When she knows another man is here, she just hides away, all too aware of her own nudity.” I froze. I couldn’t believe those words had come from his mouth. He was the one who had told me he didn’t want me standing naked in front of another man. Liam lowered his voice. “It’s been three years, man. You can’t keep her invisible forever. When are you planning on…” Declan cut him off. “What’s the rush? I made her invisible precisely because I didn’t want to be tied down by marriage so soon. I’ll give her the antidote when I’ve had my fun. I’m going to marry her, eventually.” Antidote? My heart seized. An icy dread exploded through my soul, shattering everything. “She’s so gullible and sweet,” Declan continued, his words slurring slightly. “She believes every word I say. I told her no one could see or hear her, so now she communicates with me by writing everything down.” “She’d never guess that in this entire world, I’m the only one who can see her.” “Sometimes, when I don’t feel like dealing with her, I just pretend I can’t see what she’s written. You have no idea how desperate she gets.” “And you know what? Watching her cry, completely bare… it’s far more interesting than my research.” Liam took a sharp breath, then let out a low whistle. “Damn, man. That’s cold.” “Seriously. The way you guided her into drinking the invisibility serum… and she still thinks it was an accident, probably still blames herself for it! She’s so easy to fool. But it’s been three years. Hasn’t she suspected anything?” Declan’s eyes were hazy with alcohol. “Suspected? Not a chance. I used to just fool around outside. Now I bring women home, and after they leave, I just have to spin some sweet little lies and she actually thinks it’s all her fault.” “Having her watch while I’m in bed with someone else… it’s a hell of a thrill.” The two of them looked at each other and burst into laughter. 2 These words, every last one, were like daggers plunging into my phantom heart. I hadn’t drunk the serum by accident. And he could see me the entire time. Of course. Why hadn’t I realized it? Declan was a celebrated genius. He had created the serum. If he wanted to, he could easily see through its effects. He said he would develop the antidote as soon as possible. But I had waited for three years, never knowing he held my freedom in his hands all along. My pain, my guilt, my shame… to him, it was all just a game, the antics of a clown he was manipulating. The air grew heavy with silence. Not long after Liam left, the doorbell rang. A moment later, a woman’s saccharine voice floated into the room. “Dr. Archer, why’d you call me over so late?” “You were looking forward to it, weren’t you?” Declan didn’t waste any more words. Within three minutes, the sounds of panting and moaning filled the bedroom. This was the twelfth woman he had brought home in the last two months. Tonight’s was a minor actress named Jennie, who had been blacklisted after offending someone important. I walked into the room and stood by the bed. Declan’s gaze shot directly to where I stood, a look of cruel amusement in his eyes. The woman beneath him pouted. “Dr. Archer, you’re distracted again!” He didn’t speak, just moved with more force. But his eyes found me again. Countless times in the past, I had felt his eyes on me, a fleeting sensation I always dismissed as a delusion, an illusion born from my own suffering. Or maybe, I had foolishly thought, it was proof of our deep connection, of our love. It was none of those things. He was enjoying the show. It was disgusting. 3 I don’t know how much time passed before the movement on the bed finally ceased. Jennie purred, “Dr. Archer, it’s the middle of the night. Can’t I just stay here tonight?” Declan never let them stay. Once he was satisfied, he would kick them out. “Get out.” “Do you have to be so cruel? It’s not like there’s a lady of the house here…” “Don’t make me say it again.” Jennie dressed sullenly. As she was leaving, her eyes landed on something and lit up. “Can I have this?” I followed her gaze. It was a ring. The engagement ring Declan had proposed with three years ago. The day after he proposed, I drank the invisibility serum. Declan refused her. “That belongs to my fiancée.” Jennie scoffed. “You’re so devoted, Dr. Archer. But your fiancée has been gone for years. What’s the point of keeping the ring? What difference does it make who you give it to?” She moved closer, her hand reaching for his arm. He shook her off. “Compared to her, you’re not even worthy.” Jennie’s face flushed with indignation. “At least I wouldn’t just leave you without a word and let the whole world laugh at you! I know how to appreciate a great man like you, Dr. Archer. I’m a thousand times better than she ever was!” Back then, Declan had told me the serum was dangerous. If the world knew of its existence, the consequences would be catastrophic. So, to everyone else, my sudden disappearance made it look like I had abandoned him. “You have no idea how much I like you, Dr. Archer…” Jennie persisted, climbing onto his lap and reaching for the ring. Declan shoved her onto the floor. “Get. Out.” That was his way of saying he never wanted to see her again. 4 Declan leaned against the headboard and lit a cigarette. He held the ring in his palm. “Thea, are you here?” “I told you,” he murmured to the empty air, “none of these cheap women could ever compare to you.” “The only person I’ll ever marry is you.” In the quiet after, he always made these pledges of loyalty. I used to be so lost in his sweet words that even as he brought home woman after woman, I would blame myself, believing my condition had driven him to this. I truly believed I was the only one he loved. But now, hearing the cruel truth from his own lips, I finally understood what a masterful performance it had been. He hadn’t been driven to anything. This was who he had always been. The affairs had started long ago; he’d only recently become brazen enough to bring them into our home. “Thea, I love you so much. I miss you.” In the past, I would have burst into tears, professing my own love for him. Now, I just crouched on the floor, watching him with cold, empty eyes. As the cigarette burned down to its filter, a flicker of panic crossed his face. “Thea, just wait a little longer. I will develop the antidote. I will marry you.” I couldn’t stomach his performance any longer. I left the bedroom. He didn’t seem to dwell on that flicker of panic. His life continued as usual, day in, day out. My heart had turned to ash. I began to search for a way to save myself. He wouldn’t keep the antidote at home; it had to be at his lab. And besides the antidote, I needed the original research data for the serum. As a young prodigy, Declan had countless inventions to his name. He was meticulous about saving the raw data for all of them, successful or not. Every day, after he left, I would search his cluttered study. 5 I had to be careful not to arouse his suspicion, putting everything back exactly where I found it and always listening for his return. The progress was slow. Hearing a noise from the living room, I quickly left the study. Declan was home earlier than usual. He stumbled, kicking over the trash can. He looked around the room, his brow furrowed. Clothes were scattered on the sofa, clutter littered the floor, and a visible layer of dust coated the coffee table. “Thea, why haven’t you cleaned up these last few days?” He was still pretending he couldn’t see me, calling my name out into the empty space. When I didn’t respond, he took out a notepad and pen and placed them on the table. “Thea, you haven’t been on your best behavior today.” “If something’s bothering you, write it down for me.” Looking at his smug, knowing face, I finally spoke, my voice a phantom whisper he could hear perfectly well. “It’s been three years. Where’s the antidote?” He instinctively started to reply, then caught himself. “What’s wrong, Thea? Write it down for me.” A cold laugh escaped me. I wrote the words on the paper. As soon as he read them, he put on his well-rehearsed apologetic expression. “I know you’re anxious. I’m anxious too. But being anxious won’t help.” “Invisibility… think about what a monumental, incredible achievement that is in the history of science! You accidentally drank my only sample before I had even perfected the formula.” “That’s why the antidote is so difficult, Thea. Please, just wait a little longer, okay? I will keep my promise to you.” Those were the words that had filled me with guilt, that had made me wait, and wait, and wait. Declan glanced at his watch. “I came home early to tell you that my mentor and a former colleague are coming to stay the night. I need you to cook a few dishes and get the guest room ready.” “And clean this place up. Don’t let them think I live in a pigsty.” They’d be laughing at him, not me, I thought. When he returned that evening with his guests, the apartment was still a mess. “Professor Albright, you…” Declan froze at the door, too embarrassed to let them in. 6 The man behind him, his former colleague, teased, “Declan, it’s been a while. Is this how you welcome us?” The old professor, a man named Albright, just laughed heartily, trying to smooth things over. “Declan has probably just been too busy lately to tidy up.” Declan seized the opportunity, frantically gathering the piles of clothes and clutter from the living room and shoving them all into his bedroom. Then, remembering something, he tiptoed to the kitchen. Of course, I hadn’t cooked. Not only that, but the dishes I had used over the past few days were still piled on the counter, and the fridge was nearly empty. “Declan, didn’t you say you were going to let us sample your cooking?” Hearing his mentor’s question, Declan turned, his eyes locking directly onto mine. I knew what he was asking. He was asking why. We had started dating in college and moved in together after graduation. He was useless when it came to housework. He’d had his parents to take care of him his whole life, but as he’d said, “If I still live with my parents at my age, having them do everything for me, what would people think?” I was an orphan with few friends. He was my entire world. So, to allow him to focus completely on his research, I had given up my own promising academic career to take care of him. I had never once disobeyed him. Not even during these three invisible years. He was asking why I was no longer taking care of him, no longer listening to him. But he had to pretend he couldn’t see me. He whispered, “Thea, are you there?” I just stared back at him, silent. He was getting agitated. “Thea, what is wrong with you?” So this is what it felt like, all those times he had pretended not to see me. “Declan, what are you doing?” His colleague, Ryan, appeared at the kitchen door. Declan quickly shut the door. “Sorry, I’ve just been swamped. We don’t have much food. Let’s go out to eat.” “Go out? Declan, I just got off a long flight. I’m exhausted. And the professor is not young. You were the one who invited us to stay, said you were going to cook. If we’d known, we would have just gotten a hotel! We have a conference early tomorrow, I wanted to get some rest.” 7 Declan’s face flushed with embarrassment. He couldn’t cook. He didn’t even know how to turn on the stove. “I’m so sorry, it completely slipped my mind. I’ll order something in, it’ll be quick.” Ryan grumbled but accepted. “Fine, fine. But seriously, eating takeout here is no different from being in a hotel.” Declan showed them to the two guest rooms. They weren’t cluttered, but I hadn’t cleaned them in days, and they were covered in a thin layer of dust. His guests had to make their own beds. In the morning, as they were leaving, Ryan was still complaining. Professor Albright didn’t say anything, but he looked displeased. The moment the door closed behind them, Declan slammed it shut. “Thea! Get over here!” I remained on the sofa. “What do you think you’re doing?! I told you, I haven’t made the antidote! What is your damn rush?!” “Have I mistreated you these past three years?! You’re in this state, and I’m still feeding you, still giving you a place to live!” “All I ask is that you do some housework, cook some meals, and you can’t even handle that for a few years?” “Thea, with this attitude, I’m starting to seriously reconsider whether I want to marry you at all.” I had to admire him. He could say all of that without a trace of shame. “I have a conference for the next few days. I’ll be staying at a hotel. Before I get back, you’d better have this house cleaned up!” Only that last sentence got a reaction out of me. The moment he slammed the door and left, I ran to the study. Finally, hidden in the very back of a bookshelf, I found it: the complete data logs for the invisibility serum. Declan would be at his conference for the next few days, which meant he wouldn’t be going to his lab. This was my chance. If I missed it, I didn’t know when I’d get another one. 8 Declan always said it was too dangerous for me to go out while I was invisible. But I had to take the risk. Night was safer than day. In the dead of night, I stepped out of the apartment. For the first time in three years. Even invisible, I was acutely aware of my nakedness. The shame of it made every step an agony. Thankfully, the lab wasn’t far. The passcode was still the same: my birthday. How ironic. I didn’t dare turn on the lights. I found a flashlight and searched the lab in the dim beam. My guess was right. The antidote was here, hidden away. And just like the serum, it was colorless and odorless. That’s why I had drunk the serum so unsuspectingly all those years ago. I dipped a finger in and touched it to my tongue. I looked down. My body flickered. Once, twice. It was the antidote. It was real.

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I used my savings from working for years to buy a retirement home with a yard for my mom in our hometown. To give her peace of mind, I put only her name on the deed. But the second month, this house was listed online by my sister for $50,000 below market price. Even the furniture I carefully selected was bundled as a free gift. I didn’t make a sound. Instead, I found someone to buy the house directly and signed the contract. Then I called my mom: “Mom, God blessed us! We’re finally rich! We’re going to be millionaires!” Mom was confused: “What?” I deliberately lowered my voice and shouted excitedly: “It’s that house I bought you! Insider news says a huge development project is taking over that area. The buyout compensation will be at least two million dollars!” Chapter 1 Browsing Facebook Marketplace on the weekend, I scrolled past a local house listing. “Owner selling directly! Charming house with a yard in Royal Garden community, 1000 sq ft, 2 bedrooms, near shopping mall. Urgent sale for $100k! Serious buyers only, act fast!” I froze. This community… I just bought a house with a yard for my mom there. I argued with the agent until my mouth was dry to get it down to $150k, excluding renovation and furniture. Same community, same layout, the market price is at least $160k. $100k? Crazy. I clicked into the post, swiped through the photos, and my breath hitched. The living room was modern minimalist, beige sofa, wooden coffee table, a landscape painting on the wall. It was exactly the same as the retirement home I gave my mom. Maybe just a coincidence. I clicked the chat box: “Is there any problem with the house? Why is it so cheap?” The reply came instantly: “Absolutely no problem! The layout and Feng Shui are amazing! Eco-friendly materials used for renovation. If I didn’t need money urgently, I wouldn’t sell it. Title deed available, clear ownership!” Immediately after, a photo of the title deed was sent. Although key information was blurred, I recognized the owner’s name. Susan Zhao. My mom’s name. But my mom doesn’t know how to use these apps at all. So who is selling the house? I took a deep breath, clicked into the seller’s profile, and scrolled down. The content made me cold all over: “Like-new automatic washing machine, mom thinks too many functions, hard to use, $200.” “Brand massage chair, used once, mom says uncomfortable, $400.” “55-inch LCD TV, brand new in box, mom thinks too big and wastes electricity, $500 urgent sale.” Everything I bought for my mom over the past three years. At the bottom was a scarf. Dark gray cashmere, hand-knitted by me over three sleepless nights last winter. When I mailed it home, Mom said on the phone: “This scarf is warm and stylish, I love it, my daughter is so talented.” Now it’s priced at $10 with free shipping, note says: Mom thinks the color is too old-fashioned, told me to sell it. So, this account belongs to my sister, Hailey. I stared at the screen, stomach churning. Just then, the seller sent another message: “Can show the house today. If convenient, let’s schedule a time? My mom wants to deal with this house ASAP.” I stared at this line and suddenly laughed. Laughing and laughing, my eyes got a little sour. Chapter 2 In the three years I’ve been working, the frequency of my mom asking me to buy things was ridiculously high. “Holly, the fridge at home isn’t cooling. Fixing it costs hundreds, why not buy a new one?” “The washing machine keeps leaking, the neighbor downstairs complained several times.” “Aunt Wang’s daughter bought her a skincare set, heard it fades spots. Mom’s face has more and more spots…” Every time, I placed the order instantly. My best friend Chloe half-jokingly said: “Why does your mom only ask you, not your sister? Isn’t Hailey working in your hometown?” I explained with a smile back then: “I’m out of town, can’t take care of the family. Hailey takes care of Mom more daily, so as the older sister, I should spend more money.” Not only that, every month when I got paid, I would transfer $800 to Hailey to help with household expenses. On holidays, the red envelope for my mom was never less than $1,000. But I lived in a shared apartment, ate cheap meals, and couldn’t bear to buy two new pieces of clothing a year. Late last year, Mom hinted that her friends in the village were all moved to the city by their children, and only she still lived in the old house. So I took out all my savings and bought her a small house with a yard in the city. Last month when I went back, I handed the deed to Mom, her eyes were red. I thought she was truly moved. It seems I was flattering myself. Just then, the seller sent another message: “Hey, are you there? If you can decide today, I’ll drop another $5k. $95k and it’s yours!” I exited the chat, called Chloe, and asked her to view the house for me. Half an hour later, Chloe sent a voice message: “Holy crap! It really is your sister! She showed me the house! Kept urging me to sign, saying several groups are waiting!” “What did you say?” “As you taught, I said I have to discuss with my husband and give her an answer tomorrow.” Chloe paused, “Holly, what do you plan to do? Go home and tear them apart?” I was silent for a few seconds. Tear them apart? That’s too cheap for them. I worked overtime, saved money to buy things for the family. My mom always said: “Holly, Mom doesn’t care about your money, just wants you to come home more often.” But every time I took leave to go home, she was at the Mahjong parlor. The food I cooked, she said wasn’t as good as the takeout Hailey ordered. The clothes I bought, she said were old-fashioned, not as tasteful as Hailey’s pick. What about Hailey? Community college grad for three years, changed five jobs, the longest one lasted eight months. Monthly salary $800, but using the latest iPhone, carrying designer bags. I asked where the money came from, she giggled: “Boyfriend gave it.” Now I know, what boyfriend? It was me, the sucker sister. I took a deep breath and told Chloe, “Tomorrow go sign the contract. $95k, I’ll transfer to you.” “Are you crazy? Buying your own house?” “Not crazy.” I said, “I want them to know, some advantages come with a price!” The contract signing went smoothly. After Hailey got the money, the smile on her face couldn’t be hidden: “Sister, you are so straightforward! If I didn’t need money urgently, I wouldn’t sell this house!” Chloe asked her: “Urgent need for money, is there something big happening?” Hailey lowered her voice: “I’m preparing to buy a new house! A new development in the suburbs, the environment is great! This money is just enough for the down payment!” Chapter 3 “What about your mom?” “Oh, my mom loves me the most, she agrees to whatever I say.” Hailey said proudly, “This house was bought by my sister for my mom anyway. Mom said her things are mine, I can handle them however I want.” When Chloe repeated this on the phone, she was shaking with anger: “Holly, did you hear that? Your mom is biased to the Pacific Ocean!” “Heard your sister is pregnant, the guy’s family has no money to buy a house for marriage, your mom is anxious, that’s why she’s selling the house in a hurry!” I held the phone, silent, heart completely cold. I wondered why Mom sold the house at such a huge discount. Turns out she was rushing to cash out for Hailey’s dowry/wedding house. A week later, I found a stock photo of a leaking wall and sent it to Hailey’s account. “Hey? The house is leaking, soaked the neighbor’s wall. Neighbor asks for $5,000 compensation, you have to pay this, right?” Less than three minutes after sending, Hailey exploded. “Are you sick?! The house was fine when handed to you! How could a newly renovated house leak! You must have left the tap on yourself!” “I tell you, the house has been transferred, written clearly in black and white! Now even if the house collapses, it has nothing to do with me! Don’t try to scam me!” After speaking, she blocked me. I smiled. This guarantee was exactly what I wanted. Switching back to WeChat/Messenger, I called my mom. She picked up after seven or eight rings: “Holly? What’s up? Mom is playing cards.” “Mom, are you used to living in the house?” The other end was quiet for a moment. “It’s okay.” Mom’s tone was unnatural, “Just, the first floor is too damp, Mom’s rheumatic legs can’t stand it.” “When buying, didn’t you say you liked the yard for planting vegetables and sunbathing?” “That was Mom not knowing better.” She raised her voice, “Living here I realized, first floor has many mosquitoes and is noisy. Aunt Wang’s daughter bought her an apartment with an elevator, 16th floor, quiet and good view.” I tightened my grip on the phone: “Since you don’t like it, sell it. The market is good now, can sell for over $150k. Sell it and change to an elevator apartment for you.” “Don’t!” She interrupted urgently, “Moved everything in, moving out is so troublesome!” “But aren’t you uncomfortable living there?” “Just make do.” She complained, “Holly, not that Mom wants to scold you, but you are not careful. Buying a house is a big thing, didn’t ask Mom’s opinion. Look at Hailey, bought me Essential Oils, I sleep much better. She buys everything right into Mom’s heart.” I almost laughed out loud. A $150k house can’t compare to Hailey’s cheap supplements. “You’re right.” I softened my tone, “I also feel this house is lacking.” Mom immediately perked up: “Right! I think so too! Mom went to see a house with Hailey two days ago, three-story villa, big yard, only over $800k! First floor living room, second floor me, third floor Hailey, perfect!” “$800k?” I pretended to be troubled, “I don’t have that much money.” “You can get a loan!” She said matter-of-factly, “Your salary is so high, pay it back slowly over 20 or 30 years. Mom is old, just want to live in a better house. Have face when old friends ask. The one you bought now is embarrassing to mention.” The last bit of hope broke completely at this moment. “Mom.” I whispered, “Actually, I bought this second-hand house for a reason.” “What reason?” “I got insider news, this community will be bought out for a government project next year. Compensation based on area, at least two million dollars.” Chapter 4 Mom’s voice trembled: “Two million?” I continued, “Yeah, otherwise why do you think I insisted on buying this house? It’s all for the buyout money. If I knew you didn’t like it, I would have waited until after the demolition to buy you a new one.” A thud came from the other end, like something fell. Followed by Hailey’s suppressed exclamation: “Mom! What are you doing! My new phone!” Mom’s voice was urgent and shaky: “It’s all your fault! If you weren’t in a hurry to marry, would I sell the house?! Now it’s over! Two million gone!” Hailey was anxious too: “How would I know about the buyout! You said yourself this broken house is uncomfortable!” “If I didn’t say that, how would your sister buy me a villa!” I pretended not to hear, asking with concern: “Mom, the house is being bought out, aren’t you happy?” “Happy…” Her voice was dry, “Holly, is this news reliable?” “Insider news, 100% reliable.” I said, “The buyout office is coming next month for survey. Keep the deed safe, can’t sign the agreement without it.” She was incoherent, “Where did I put the deed, have to find it…” “You have to find it quickly.” I urged, “Sign the agreement, money comes down fast. Then, let alone a suburban villa, you can buy a penthouse downtown.” With that, I hung up. Almost simultaneously, a new message popped up on Facebook Marketplace: “Is the house sold to you still available? I’ll buy it back with extra money! $10k! $20k extra is fine!” “Please! That house is very important to my mom!” I typed slowly: “What’s wrong? I’m preparing to move in tomorrow.” Typing indicator flashed for a long time. “To be honest, this house was a retirement home my sister bought for my mom. Lots of furniture inside was carefully selected by my sister. Although not valuable, it’s my sister’s heart. My mom regrets it now, says she’s sorry to my sister, can’t sleep all night.” “If my sister knows I sold the house, she will definitely disown me. Have mercy, sell the house back to me. I’ll add $30k, buy it back for $125k, okay?” My stomach churned. Now you know it’s sister’s heart? Why didn’t you think about it when selling? I deliberately didn’t reply. Three minutes later, Hailey got anxious. “Why are you like this? I added money! If you don’t sell, I’ll make a scene every day! Throw paint! Make your life miserable!” I screenshotted her previous message “Even if the house collapses it has nothing to do with me” and sent it back. “Try throwing paint? I’ll call the police immediately. And print 100 copies of you selling the house for cash to post at your community gate. Let everyone judge who is more shameful.” Hailey typed for a long time, finally squeezing out: “How much do you want to sell?” I thought about it and quoted a number: “$160k. Not a penny less.” I thought she would bargain. Unexpectedly, next second: “Deal! $160k it is! When to transfer title?” I raised an eyebrow. Seems two million dollars is worth them bleeding heavily. The second transfer was also done by Chloe for me. Just finished, I saw Hailey’s post on Facebook. A photo of the villa sales office, caption: “Finally going to have my own little home, thanks to Mom’s love~” Mom commented below: “My daughter deserves the best.” I smiled and called my mom. Rang for a long time before she answered: “Mom, found the deed?” “Found it.” Her voice was guilty, “Holly, Mom likes that house more and more, don’t want to change. Don’t bother anymore.” “But it’s first floor, damp and noisy, drains clog easily.” “Mom isn’t afraid!” She said decisively, “As long as my daughter bought it, Mom likes it!” I could almost imagine her expression. Feigning calm, but eyes full of uncontrollable expectation. Two million. Enough for her to brag for the rest of her life. “Mom.” I said softly, “There’s something I need to apologize to you for.” “What?” “I made a mistake,” I sighed, “The one being bought out is actually the neighboring community. The house bought for you is not in the range.” Silence on the other end for a second. Then, Hailey’s hysterical scream came: “Holly! You dare play us?!”

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In the seventh year of our relationship, Julian’s side account was dug up. Every single word was about his love life. [Wifey wore a pink sweater today, so cute! I want to hold her and kiss her to death!] [Sang my new song to her, and she praised me! Exploding with joy!] [Bought her a pink diamond. The way she smiled, ahhhh! Buy, buy, buy! Whatever baby wants, I’ll buy it!] [Day 2 of the tour, miss wifey boohoo. No motivation without wifey, my soft and fragrant wifey.] The comments section was full of envy. [Help, Julian looks so rebellious on the outside, but privately he’s such a simp.] [LOL, some people act indifferent to their girl in public, but inside: I am my wife’s dog!] My best friend forwarded the post to me and teased: “How come you’re eating so well in private?” I carefully scrolled through every message he posted. After a while, I replied to my friend. “I’ve never worn a pink sweater.” Chapter 1 Actually, I did wear one. During the years I chased Julian Vance, I heard from somewhere that he liked soft, girly girls. I never liked pink. But that time, I specifically wore a pink sweater to bring him food. In the middle of winter, I didn’t wear a coat just to look good. My face was frozen white. Julian came out of the studio half an hour late. He looked me up and down lazily. Crossed his arms and sneered. “Audrey, you look like a pink pig.” Amidst the crowd’s laughter, I fled. Since then, I never wore pink again. My friend’s message on the phone carried an awkward attempt to comfort me. [Audrey, don’t overthink it.] [Maybe he says he hates it but likes it in his heart.] [We all know what kind of person Julian is.] True. In college, Julian was famous for his foul mouth and bad attitude. In my roommate’s words, “Such a handsome guy, pity he’s not mute.” Almost every girl who tried to chase him got scolded bloody. Only I was different. He also despised my outfits, my bento boxes, and me sticking to him all day. Yet, he would still call out to me coldly when I sat in the corner at parties. “Hey, come sit over here.” Later, he became a big star. His first stadium concert. He sang a whole love song facing my direction. Then the camera moved over. The young man’s features were exquisite and serious. “Let me introduce someone.” “The female lead of my life.” The spotlights were blinding. I only remember, amidst the screams, he was smiling at me. Offstage, Julian got scolded bloody by his agent. “Do you want your fans? Do you want your future?” He leaned against the wall, smiling indifferently. “You don’t know, my girl is dramatic and sensitive. If I don’t say it upfront, there will be trouble later.” Julian’s career did stagnate for a few years because of this. It wasn’t until last year when his new song won a Gold Award that things picked up again. However, the one presenting the award was a junior who used to be far inferior to him. That guy broke up with his girlfriend of ten years for his career, then skyrocketed. So a reporter asked him if he regretted going public back then. “No regrets.” Julian showed the necklace on his collarbone to the camera. That was the birthday gift I bought him after delivering food for five months. He once said this necklace was more precious than any trophy. But… In his latest faceless selfie. The necklace on his neck was replaced by a Hello Kitty cartoon pendant. He once said this thing was too girly and childish. But now. He cheered. [Bought couple necklaces with wifey!] Chapter 2 I sat in the living room all night. Reading his side account over and over again. He said the desserts she made were delicious. But the cake I spent all morning making for him, he just glanced at it and threw it into the trash can in front of me. He praised her for being lively, cheerful, and good at socializing. But when I just said two sentences to someone else, he sneered, “Showing off again?” He carefully prepared gifts for her on the first day, first week, first month they met. The man who always lacked patience sat at the craft table for a whole day. [Happy just thinking about wifey getting the gift! Her eyes sparkling, so cute ahhh!] And today, is my thirtieth birthday. Julian didn’t even come home. I waited until midnight, couldn’t help calling him. It took a long time to connect. Music was deafening on the other side, laughter of men and women mixed together. “I said I’m busy, can you stop annoying me!” “Huh? It’s your birthday today?” “…I forgot.” I silently opened his side account. Ten minutes ago, he said. [Don’t want to go home.] Chapter 3 Julian came home near dawn. The door opened. Alcohol smell mixed with strong perfume hit my face. Then I saw him leaning by the door. He was typing, noticed the living room light, glanced at me, then looked down at his phone again. “Still awake?” “Mmhmm.” Julian responded with an indifferent “Oh”, still looking down at the screen. The other side said something, and he unconsciously revealed a helpless smile. I sat on the sofa watching him quietly. After about three to five minutes, Julian realized I hadn’t left. He put away his phone, touched his nose, and looked up at me with a frown. “Not going to sleep?” “I…” “Perfect.” He interrupted me, sat down next to me, and ordered naturally. “Go pour me a cup of tea.” To protect Julian’s voice, I specifically learned to make many herbal teas. Julian said it tasted bad every time, but would drink it with a frown. Except this time. I brought the tea, he took a sip, and poured the whole cup into the flower pot. “Tsk, your skills are getting worse.” The blister burned on my finger hurt piercingly. I lowered my head and didn’t speak. Remembering his words in the side account again. [Wifey burned the food today, but I ate it all too!] I suddenly felt all this was a bit boring. “I’m going back to my room.” “Hey!” Julian called me from behind. I turned around. A palm-sized box hit my chest. I hissed subconsciously. He frowned a bit annoyed, then turned his head away. “Happy Birthday.” Inside the box was a cartoon pendant matching his. The silly teddy bear was grinning. Chapter 4 “I told you the person in the side account is you.” My friend came to see me the next day. Seeing that pendant, she comforted me confidently. “Julian is just like that, foul mouth but soft heart.” “If he didn’t like you, how could he be with you for so many years?” “To keep you from worrying, look at his performance two days ago, he kept a galaxy’s distance from his female partner.” “And look at the staff around him, is there a single woman?” “People outside say he’s sexist. His agent asked him to hire a few women to quell public opinion, but he refused to do it.” “You, you just overthink.” I couldn’t say anything to refute. But a woman’s intuition always made me feel something was wrong. Just like the childish and exaggerated cartoon pendant hanging on silk pajamas. It looked out of place no matter how you looked at it. My friend sighed looking at me. “How about this, check on him now?” “That’s not good.” I refused almost subconsciously. Julian hated me checking on him. I called him a few times when I was worried before. Every time ended in a big fight. He said I didn’t trust him, said I disturbed his work. Once he even smashed a cup in front of a room full of people, calling me crazy. “Audrey! Can you get lost!” “It’s not like that.” My friend held the phone in front of me. On the screen was a post from Julian. [Wifey checking on me again!] [What a little dummy, doesn’t believe I love her at all.] [But I really love how she overthinks for me.] [Praying wifey checks on me every day.] The comments were full of “Dying of cuteness”. I hesitated, but took the phone and dialed Julian’s number. It was picked up after one ring. Julian’s tone wasn’t gentle, but hearing me ask what he was doing, he didn’t hang up on the spot. “Playing tennis with my assistant.” The sound of tennis balls hitting the ground came from the other side. Julian liked sports and always spared two or three days a week to play ball. The assistant, Liam, who accompanied him was also someone I knew. A college graduate, clean background, straight orientation. I gave an awkward “Oh”. Julian’s sneer came from the ear. “Worried again?” “Want to come over and see?” I quickly refused. “No need.” I wasn’t good at tennis, and Julian played indiscriminately. I got smashed by him a few times on the court. So I wasn’t willing to join the fun. Julian sneered on the other side. “By the way, I’m going on a business trip tonight, not coming home.” I cared for him almost instinctively. “Is Liam going with you?” Julian murmured an agreement. “Then tell Liam to pay attention, your throat needs to drink…” “Alright, alright.” “I’m playing.” Julian hung up impatiently before I finished. My friend looked at me amusedly. “Relieved now?” “Even if Julian cheats, he wouldn’t go for Liam, right?” I smiled embarrassedly, but still felt something was wrong. I attributed this to worrying about Julian’s trip. After all, Young Master Vance always focused on art and ignored mundane matters. All housework fell on me. I washed his underwear and socks. Cooked three meals a day for him. At my most tired, I worked two jobs a day, and had to clean up the takeout boxes he left on the dining table when I got home. My friends laughed at me saying I was basically his mom. But lovers, inevitably have to give more. I wrote a long list of precautions and sent it to Liam. Thinking he was playing with Julian, I added a sentence. “No rush, read it after you finish playing.” However, the next second Liam called. “Sis.” “Did Julian not tell you?” “I quit the year before last.” Chapter 5 Julian never told me about this. On the contrary, he often mentioned his assistant to me. A tie clip appeared in the jewelry box. Gift from assistant. Beautiful meals posted on social media. Ate with assistant. Movie tickets found in pockets. Watched with assistant. Even staying out all night. Said… “I have to work overtime with the assistant.” “Don’t disturb me.” So even when I had a fever of 102 late at night, almost fainting, I dared not send him a message. What was he doing then? When I rushed to the court, only Julian was left. He was stunned for a moment seeing me, then frowned impatiently. “What are you doing here? Paranoia again? Audrey, can you…” “Where is Liam?” Julian stopped abruptly. He obviously didn’t expect me to ask this, dodging and murmuring. “Changing clothes…” I walked towards the locker room without a word. “Audrey!” Julian suddenly grabbed my wrist. “What crazy fit are you throwing now!” His collar was pulled slightly open with this movement. The red mark on his collarbone was ambiguous and dazzling. I struggled almost screaming. “Let go of me!” Staff on both sides looked at us. Julian’s face grew darker. He pinched my wrist deadly tight, dragging me out. “I said he’s changing!” “Go home if you want to make a scene!” Long-term suspicion and uneasiness finally exploded. I squatted on the ground like a madwoman being dragged by him. “I don’t believe it! I don’t believe it!” “Let me see!” Someone recognized Julian and started taking out phones. “Security!” Julian roared. Someone ran over to hold my shoulder. I cried and struggled. People around pointed at me. The world was in chaos. Then returned to a soft sentence. “Julian?” Chapter 6 A girl in a pink sweater stood at the locker room door. The cartoon pendant swayed on her chest. Matching perfectly. It’s hard to describe Julian’s look at me in that moment. Like guilt, like helplessness, and like relief. He stared at me for a few seconds. Then under everyone’s gaze, turned around, and walked towards that girl. “I have something to deal with here.” “Let the driver take you home first, okay?” His tone was a gentleness I hadn’t heard before. And that girl was used to it, even complaining greedily. “Huh? But I made spicy chicken, you promised to come back and eat.” Julian can’t eat spicy food. Instinct made me almost blurt it out. But the second before I spoke. Julian smiled. He pinched the girl’s cheek. “Okay, wait for me at home.” The girl left satisfied. Only after she went out the door did Julian finally deign to turn his gaze to me. My hair was messy, clothes wrinkled from the struggle. Only that extra cartoon pendant, hanging awkwardly on my chest. Julian probably had a moment of intolerance. He smoothed my hair, his voice rare and gentle. “Go home.” “Let’s pretend today never happened.” I took a step back subconsciously. Julian’s hand hung in the air. “Audrey?” I lowered my eyes not looking at him. “Let’s cool off for a while.” “Don’t be silly.” Julian frowned, reaching out to pull me. I didn’t resist. It was his phone that rang first. The girl on the screen smiled charmingly. Julian paused, eventually let go of my hand. Picked up the phone, tone suddenly softened. “What’s wrong?” “Yeah, it’s okay, I’m here, take your time.” The girl’s chirping voice came vaguely from the other end. I walked to the door, looked back and saw a smile on his lips. Didn’t notice my leaving. Chapter 7 This farce hit the trending search that night. Comments were buzzing. [Men are all the same.] [Gave up career to go public back then, now it’s so ugly.] [To be honest, I always felt the current sister-in-law doesn’t quite match him.] I recognized that avatar. It was a side account of a staff member in Julian’s studio. Sure enough, this comment was voted to the top. Many people agreed below. [Julian went from D-list to top star, she’s still a nobody.] [More than that.] [Heard she quit her job as soon as Julian got rich, we all know what that means.] It wasn’t like that. Julian asked me to quit my job back then. He said he didn’t want me to work hard from 6 AM to 10 PM. He said I just needed to focus on him. But netizens don’t listen to that. Fueled by someone with intentions, in less than a night. The target of criticism shifted from Julian to me. [Gold digger dug her own grave.] [Deserved it for relying on a man.] Someone even doxxed me. My phone blew up, filled with junk messages. At this time Julian posted a clarification tweet. [Misunderstanding caused by playing ball with assistant, both are good girls, my fault.] My friend comforted me with relief. “See, Julian is still siding with you.” I smiled, didn’t speak, just signaled her to open the comments. [Oh, got it, so wifey got jealous again?] [Fed up with the trophy wife, won’t even let boyfriend have female colleagues?] [Probably knows she can’t keep hubby’s heart?] Amidst ridicule, occasionally someone spoke for me. [Isn’t Julian’s assistant a guy? When did he change to a young girl?] This comment stayed on screen for less than half a minute, clicking in again showed “Comment deleted.” My friend was dumbfounded. “Wait, Julian is…” Subtle writing, retreating to advance. Surface saying it’s his fault. Actually blaming everything on me. Letting me bear the insults. While that girl was protected well by him. In his side account, he posted her cat. [Mommy is unhappy today, Kitty needs to comfort Mommy for Daddy.] In the photo, their overlapping hands covered the cat. I suddenly remembered many years ago, I also clamored to Julian about wanting a cat. He refused impatiently. “Don’t you know I’m allergic to cats.” “Audrey, can you stop thinking only about yourself?” “Julian is scum!” Phone vibrating from harassment calls. My friend’s eyes reddened, distressed and angry. “Audrey, we can’t take this.” “Wait.” “I’ll find a paparazzi, let’s expose him too!” “Forget it.” I stopped her. First, it wasn’t easy for Julian to get where he is today, I really loved his talent, so I didn’t want to ruin him easily. Second, a media war would inevitably be messy. I didn’t want to have anything to do with Julian anymore. Seven years of relationship. He doesn’t love me. We part on good terms. I blocked all his contacts, packed my luggage, booked a flight. My friend sent me to the airport. One second before boarding. My friend’s phone rang. Julian.

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When Malcolm Reynold, CEO of the Carrington Group, finally decided to “recognize his son,” I was deep inside the counting room of my high-stakes private club, tallying the house’s take. A black Range Rover smashed through the gilded lobby doors, scattering fine mahogany and sparking a chorus of screams. Before I could even stand up, two of their private security men had me slammed face-down on the felt table. “Look at the gutter trash. A pathetic gambling addict,” a voice sneered. It was Pierce Reynold, Malcolm’s slick, self-important stepson. He looked at me with open disgust, then threw a serrated knife onto the table. “Father is feeling charitable. He’s offering you a chance to reclaim your name, Kian. A chance to go home.” Pierce’s voice dripped with condescension. “You self-mutilate. Three fingers, cut clean to settle your debts and cleanse the filth. Otherwise, you’re never setting foot inside the Carrington estate.” I kicked out, tripping the overzealous guard on my right, and felt a cold rage bloom in my chest. “Who the hell are you to give me orders?” I spat, pushing myself up. “This city is mine. I don’t need your broken-down mansion, and I certainly don’t need your approval.” 1 Malcolm Reynold’s oldest, Blair Reynold—the one who actually emerged from the sleek black Bentley—pointed a sharp, lacquered nail at me and addressed her security detail. “Is that really him? I thought we were here for the missing heir, not a B-list mobster.” The guards, wielding shock-batons, began clearing the floor. Chips and cocktails were abandoned as the high rollers scrambled for the exit. I stood slowly, my expression fixed, but before I could move, a handful of my own floor managers and less-loyal associates swarmed me. “Kian, we heard you’re the lost heir to the Carrington billions. Is it true?” “You’re going back to the top of the food chain, boss. Does that mean we get to carve up this territory?” The desperate, greedy whispers were a ringing chorus in the sudden silence. I shoved through them, stepping onto an overturned bar stool to gain some height. Pierce, seeing my movement, recoiled two steps, his face a mask of revulsion as he looked me up and down. “Such a common, uncultured street thug.” “Father reiterated his offer,” he continued, adjusting his bespoke cufflink. “A chance to finally be clean.” He raised his chin, pulling a gleaming, tactical knife from a holster at his waist and tossing it to the floor near my feet. “Do the right thing. Cut three fingers. Sever your ties to these unsavory, back-alley dealings. The Carringtons welcome the prodigal son, but we don’t allow those with unclean hands into the family chapel.” I glanced at the knife, a humorless twist to my lips. I pulled a cigarette from my pocket. “Are you concussed? Who the hell do you think you are, setting rules for me?” I took a slow drag. “The damage to my property today? Every single cent is coming out of your trust fund.” I was done with this juvenile drama. I turned to head to my office to check the surveillance feed. He lunged to block my path, panic flashing in his eyes. “Kian Blackwood! The whole family is waiting! Don’t you dare disrespect us! You’re turning down a seat on the board to manage a petty gambling den?” He reached out to grab my expensive silk shirt. I caught his wrist, twisted it back against the bone, and drove my heel into the back of his knee. “Hands off.” My voice was low, laced with the kind of warning that had kept me alive on the streets. “Whether I carry the Carrington name or not, you are not a person who can afford to cross me.” “Touch me again, and I guarantee you walk in vertical and leave horizontal.” Pierce hit the marble floor, his hand landing in a slick of spilled champagne and liquor. “You! You worthless piece of—” The few loyal subordinates who remained began murmuring among themselves. “Mr. Reynold, Kian is the real power here. Are you really asking him to cut off his fingers?” “This is family. Isn’t that a bit extreme, even for the Carringtons?” Pierce scrambled up, pushing away the security guard trying to help him. He forced a strained, brittle smile. “We’re family, of course. No one wants Kian back more than I do.” “I’m simply the elder son, setting the house rules. The Carrington name allows for rough edges, but there is a basic code of conduct.” He looked straight at me, his meaning obvious. “I, for one, didn’t have to beg favors from wealthy older women just to clear my bookie’s tab.” I let out a short, cold burst of laughter and lit the cigarette. “You, Pierce? Are you actually related to the Carringtons in any meaningful way?” I let the word hang in the air. “You’re an adopted placeholder, nothing more. Don’t mistake yourself for the main course.” The insult found its mark. The veins on Pierce’s neck bulged. “Shut up!” he hissed, refusing to make a full scene in front of the witnesses. I flicked my ash onto the pristine floor. “Can’t take a little heat?” “This is tedious. Get lost if you can’t speak like an adult.” The room buzzed with renewed speculation. “What’s the game here? They came to find the heir, but they’re pushing him away?” “Maybe they do look down on him being the son of a club owner. Do they think all of us are just common thugs?” Pierce’s face was the color of cement, his teeth clamped shut. It was clear they hadn’t counted on me having this much leverage. I crushed the cigarette under my heel just as another long, black Maybach screeched to a halt outside the shattered entrance. The man who stepped out—the family’s head butler, a prim, funereal figure—hurried to Malcolm’s children first. “Mr. Pierce, Ms. Blair, the Senator received the alert and will be arriving shortly.” Then he turned to me, the tone shifting to one of chilling contempt. “Mr. Reynold said that mixing with this gambling crowd is not proper. If you wish to join the family, you must make a gesture. Three fingers are a small price. Chop them, and the past is wiped clean.” 2 The collective gasp from my managers and rivals was audible. “I thought Kian was finally getting out. Looks like the Carringtons see him as a liability.” “He’ll be under their thumb, even with the bloodline.” Just then, my assistant, Jesse, scrambled through the crowd, sweat pouring down his face, and grabbed my arm. “Boss, you’re trying to be a living martyr! Just swallow your pride and play along!” “You’re all over the news! The entire city is calling you an ungrateful fool! This is the Carrington Group! We can’t afford to make enemies, so just step back!” I looked at a panicked, red-eyed Jesse and clapped him on the shoulder. “Relax. If the sky falls, I’ll catch it.” Jesse leaned in, his voice tight with desperation. “Boss! Do you know who Blair Reynold is?” “The Financial Oversight Commission, Kian! She can freeze our licenses tomorrow! Getting on her bad side is suicide!” My phone buzzed in my pocket. Jesse snatched it up, his expression turning to pure dread as he answered. “What? An unscheduled audit? They’re suspending the liquor and gambling permits?” He gave me a death stare. “I have to go handle this. Just apologize to Mr. Pierce, please.” Suicide? I almost laughed aloud. My adoptive father, Silas Vaughn, ran half the global high-stakes gambling world. The Carringtons were mere amateurs by comparison. I only kept my identity quiet because Silas preferred a low profile. The Carringtons couldn’t make me bow down. Pierce, seeing Jesse’s panic, couldn’t contain his smugness. “What’s the matter? Feeling the pressure now?” “One call from my sister, and this entire operation goes dark. Do exactly as I say.” The front door opened again. A woman in a tailored skirt suit and stiletto heels strode in. Pierce rushed to her, grabbing Blair’s arm with a desperate, relieved smile. “Blair, you’re finally here!” Blair looked me over, her expression ice-cold. “You’re Kian Blackwood?” The crowd pushed closer, the whispers gaining volume. “Jesse’s been loyal for ten years. They’re really hitting Kian’s business that fast?” “It looks like the blood relative is less important to the Carringtons than the adopted ones they raised.” Blair crossed her arms, her voice sharp. “So you share a bloodline. So what?” “You assault family members the moment we arrive. You’ve been running wild for too long, without an ounce of decency or discipline!” I didn’t answer, subtly drafting a text to my adoptive father. Blair’s face hardened. “I don’t care how many debts you’ve cleared on your own. The Carrington Group is not a crowd you mess with!” “One more outburst, and I’ll stop being civil!” The spectators shifted their gaze between us. I stood under the chandelier, my smile mocking. “There are a lot of eyes on this, Blair. Your family invaded my establishment and caused massive damage.” “You demanded I mutilate myself. Self-defense seems appropriate.” “Besides, the license suspension has already started, hasn’t it? Why pretend to be the bigger person?” I took a step toward her. “Is that what we call abuse of authority? Using your government position for a personal vendetta?” A few of the major investors and business partners in the room instantly shifted their posture. Kian had just flipped the script, questioning her professional ethics in front of the city’s elite. Pierce was sweating, forcing a sickly, strained smile. “My, my brother. A misunderstanding. Blair is just direct. No malice intended.” Blair simply adjusted her hair, her voice offering a false generosity. “If you just come home quietly, all past events are nullified. The Carringtons are generous. Chop your fingers, clean up this sordid mess of a life, and come back. We understand that life on the streets required you to employ some… questionable tactics.” I suppressed the urge to laugh, reaching out to tap a button on the control panel. The main floor lights instantly dimmed by half. The emergency lights cast a stark, white glow on Pierce’s pale face. I walked right up to him, my voice carrying clearly through the semi-darkness. “You didn’t actually think you were the first person to find out who I am, did you?” “Let me warn you clearly: whether I accept this family or not is my decision. And you, outsider, have no say in the matter.” 3 After I was taken, my mother was consumed by guilt. She spent years searching, eventually succumbing to depression. Her pleas and ads—complete with a massive reward—were plastered all over the city. My adoptive father saw them and called countless times, only to be dismissed. Until one day, my maternal grandfather finally picked up the phone. After much deliberation, Senator Alistair Carrington decided to leave me exactly where I was, with my adoptive family. For years, he had been strategically maneuvering, quietly setting the stage, waiting for the precise moment that would allow me to return to the Carrington Group with indisputable power. Pierce, sensing a shift in the mood, suddenly raised his voice, a desperate attempt to regain control. “So the old man found you! So what? Father runs the Carrington Group now!” He straightened his back, a note of arrogance returning. “I am the rightful heir! You’ve been a stray for twenty years. What could you possibly offer that I don’t?” I shook my head. If he was truly in line to inherit the Group, they wouldn’t have gone to this dramatic effort to find me. I scoffed, picking up a handful of high-value chips and idly stacking them. “In that case, we can wait until Chairman Reynold gets here to continue the discussion.” Word travels fast in this city. Even the club’s guests were pressing against the railing, desperate to witness the drama. The more people, the more interesting the show. I actually instructed a server to send a round of high-end champagne to the VIP onlookers. Into this surreal, charged atmosphere, a voice, choked with suppressed fury, roared from the entrance. “What in God’s name is this racket?!” The crowd parted instantly. Malcolm Reynold walked in, his face etched with fury and a sickly green hue. I slowly stood, meeting his eye across the distance, a challenging, amused smile on my lips. “Chairman Reynold. You certainly know how to make an entrance.” Under the intense, critical gaze of my onlookers, he immediately lost his composure and barked at the crowd. “Are you all trying to get fired? Get back to your tables!” The managers and elite guests were instantly outraged. “Excuse me? Is this your club?” “Seriously? He’s abusing his own son, and now he’s threatening us? What kind of lowlife is he?” The vein in Malcolm’s temple pulsed furiously. “The DNA test isn’t finalized yet! You open a simple club, and you think you’re untouchable?!” “I am willing to let him claim his family name—that is a privilege! For him to mouth off and shame the Carrington name like this is an outrage!” I looked at his bluster, his transparent effort to project authority, and felt a wave of absolute absurdity. An average man, a hanger-on who had married into my mother’s family and built a career on her wealth, dared to try and play the paternal role with me? Blair, seeing my continued silence, mistook it for fear. She immediately pointed at the crowd and barked orders to her security. “Get these unwanted people out! And anyone who dares to spread rumors about the Carrington name will be dealt with severely!” Most of the onlookers, intimidated by the Carrington name, reluctantly dispersed. But a few older, more entrenched business magnates—the true power brokers of the city—remained calmly seated in the VIP booths, sipping their drinks. Pierce, sensing the tide turning back in their favor, squared his shoulders. “Looks like you’re going home, whether you like it or not, little brother. Submit now, and you’ll find it much easier.” Malcolm scowled with blatant disgust. “He’s running rampant just because of a slight blood connection. He clearly needs a lesson in respect.” “Take him! We’re dragging him back today, even if we have to use force!” Several Carrington guards advanced on me. At that exact moment, a voice, deep and resonating with undeniable authority, thundered from the entrance. “Who dares lay a hand on my grandson!” A silver-haired patriarch, leaning heavily on a polished oak walking stick, slowly entered the room, surrounded by an entourage. The true center of power in this saga: Senator Alistair Carrington. My grandfather. 4 Malcolm, Blair, and Pierce froze, their faces a picture of utter shock. They couldn’t utter a single word. The shock of losing his grandson and the subsequent death of his daughter had nearly destroyed the Senator. For years, he had been largely confined to the estate, entrusting the majority of the Group’s operations to Malcolm. Until a few weeks ago. The old family butler, sorting through my mother’s personal effects, discovered a hidden compartment—and inside it, my mother’s old, discarded cell phone, filled with years of my adoptive father’s unanswered calls. The Senator had quietly followed the trail and found me. More importantly, he had already seen through Malcolm Reynold’s ambition. The hanger-on had been systematically siphoning assets and installing his own loyalists for years. His rush to “find” me was simply a move to install a legitimate blood relative—a puppet—to gain full, undisputed control over the Carrington Group. The Senator walked right up to me. His eyes, though clouded by age, sparkled with sudden tears. He gently touched my shoulder, his voice trembling. “Kian… I know. The things you’ve endured.” My own throat tightened. I bent down and embraced the man I had only just met. “Grandfather.” Malcolm swallowed hard, stammering. “Father… Sir, why are you here? You should have called ahead!” The Senator slammed his walking stick onto the marble floor with a deafening crack, his voice booming with fury. “If I hadn’t come, would my flesh-and-blood grandson have been mutilated and dragged home like a stray dog?!” “Malcolm Reynold! Do you think I’m an imbecile?!” Sweat streamed down Malcolm’s forehead as he hastily tried to defend himself. “I… I didn’t! I only wanted to teach him proper decorum. After all, a gambling club is no place for a future CEO…” “Decorum?!” The Senator was shaking with rage. “Does a man who married into the family, a man who doesn’t even carry the name, get to dictate the rules of the Carrington house?!” The room exploded. The few remaining old-guard magnates exchanged knowing glances. One of them chuckled loudly. “Well, well. It seems Chairman Reynold isn’t a Reynold at all, is he?” Malcolm’s face went instantly white. It was the one truth he had sacrificed everything to bury. To join the Carrington family, he had changed his name and severed all ties to his own past. To have it exposed publicly was a deeper humiliation than any physical assault. Blair, seeing the utter collapse, quickly stepped forward and took the Senator’s arm, softening her tone. “Grandfather, please. We are family. There’s no need for this scene. It will only hurt the Group’s reputation.” The Senator coldly yanked his arm free. “Do you even have the right to call me that?” His sharp eyes swept over the Reynold siblings, his words cutting deep. “One of you is a woman he dragged in from an affair, and the other is a bastard he raised as his own. Do you truly believe the Carrington name is so desperate for heirs that we’d welcome filth?” Pierce visibly flinched, shouting hysterically, “I am not a bastard!” “Silence!” The Senator pointed the stick right at Pierce’s nose. “You and your shameless mother—did you really think I wouldn’t find out how you schemed against my daughter?!” The onlookers, who hadn’t fully dispersed, surged forward again. “Holy hell! An absolute bombshell!” “So Pierce is illegitimate? And Blair was a package deal?” “No wonder they were desperate to cut the real heir’s hands off. They’re terrified of losing their status!” Blair’s face was green with mortification. She grabbed both Malcolm and Pierce, pulling them toward the entrance. “We’re leaving. We won’t be humiliated here.”

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