Category: English

1 On the day of our wedding anniversary, I brought a homemade, carefully packed lunch to my wife’s corporate headquarters. The receptionist froze for a solid three seconds when she saw me. “Nolan, Ms. Whitmore isn’t in today. she started her maternity leave.” I stared at her. I told her I had no idea my wife was pregnant. All the color drained from the receptionist’s face. She immediately backtracked, stammering that she must have remembered the schedule wrong. A cold chill crept up my spine. I pulled out my phone and remotely accessed the dashcam footage from Kate’s luxury SUV. The live feed showed a man carefully supporting my wife by the arm as they walked into the doors of an exclusive private maternity clinic. Their body language was undeniably intimate. When the man turned his head in the footage, my stomach dropped. I recognized him instantly. It was my best friend, Joshua. Three years ago, when I was hospitalized after a severe car crash, Joshua had visited me every single day. Back then, my wife used to tease me, saying my best buddy pampered me more than my own mother would. I dialed Kate’s number. The background noise on her end was loud and chaotic. “What is it, honey? My meeting hasn’t wrapped up yet.” The words of confrontation hovered right on the tip of my tongue. I wanted to scream and ask her why. But I swallowed the bile down. “Nothing. I just missed you.” I hung up the phone. If these two pieces of trash wanted each other so badly, I would let them rot together. I sat in the pitch black living room, my eyes locked on the front door as it finally swung open. “Kate, was your corporate board meeting held at a maternity clinic today?” The motion sensor lights in the entryway flickered to life. Kate’s hand was still resting gently on Joshua’s forearm. At the sound of my voice, her entire body went rigid. Joshua instinctively shrank back, hiding slightly behind her. He gripped the lapel of Kate’s tailored blazer, his eyes instantly welling up with tears. “Kate, I told you I shouldn’t have let you accompany me. Nolan is definitely misunderstanding this.” His voice was a fragile whisper, dripping with manufactured victimhood. Kate furrowed her brow, stepping slightly to the side to shield his body with her own. She tossed her car keys onto the credenza. The metal smacked against the wood with a jarring clatter. “Nolan, what kind of psychotic episode are you having tonight? Are you spying on me?” She marched toward me, her tone laced with heavy impatience. I tossed my phone onto the glass coffee table. The screen was frozen on a screenshot from that morning, showing her delicately helping Joshua out of the passenger seat right in front of the clinic. “I went to your office to bring you lunch. Your receptionist told me you were on maternity leave.” I kept my voice deadpan. “I didn’t even know my own wife was pregnant, yet another man is already escorting you to your prenatal checkups.” Kate glanced at the glowing screen. For a fraction of a second, guilt flashed across her face. But she quickly squared her shoulders, her arrogance returning in full force. “Joshua has a weak constitution. He actually fainted a few days ago.” “I took him to the clinic for a full blood panel, and I just happened to get my checkup done while we were there.” She looked down at me as if I were a speck of dirt on her designer shoes. “When you were in that car wreck three years ago, he practically lived at the hospital taking care of you.” “Now that he’s unwell, what is wrong with me, as your wife, stepping up to repay that debt of gratitude?” Her self righteous speech actually made me laugh out loud. “Repay my debt? So you kept it a total secret from me, took time off work, and hid your pregnancy just to keep him company?” Joshua stepped out from behind her, fat tears rolling down his pale cheeks. “Nolan, please don’t be mad at Kate. I begged her to keep my health issues a secret. I didn’t want to worry you.” He took a step forward, reaching out as if to grab my hand. I sidestepped, refusing to let him touch me. Without my support, he dramatically stumbled forward, collapsing onto the plush living room rug. Kate’s face twisted in pure rage. She immediately dropped to her knees to help him up. “Nolan! What the hell is wrong with you! You know his health is fragile, he can’t handle this kind of stress!” She roared at me, the veins in her neck bulging. I looked down at my hands. I hadn’t even made physical contact with the man. “Are you legally blind, Kate? I never even touched him.” Joshua leaned his weight heavily against Kate’s chest, shaking his head weakly. “Kate, I’m fine. I just lost my balance. It’s not Nolan’s fault.” “My chest just feels a little tight. I think I’ve been standing for too long today.” Kate wrapped her arms protectively around his shoulders, whipping her head around to glare at me with absolute venom. “Look at how bitter and toxic you’ve become. Where is the refined gentleman I married?” She pointed a perfectly manicured finger right at my face. “Let me make this perfectly clear. If anything happens to Joshua’s health, I will hold you personally responsible.” I stood there, quietly watching her unhinged display. This was the woman who had once sworn to love me for the rest of her life. Now, she was verbally eviscerating me over the pathetic lies of another man. I took a deep breath, swallowing the intense nausea churning in my gut. “Kate, take him and get out of my house.” She froze, clearly stunned that I had the nerve to kick her out. She let out a sharp, condescending laugh, her eyes sweeping over me with utter disgust. “Get your facts straight, Nolan.” “This house might have been left to you by your dead parents, but I am the one making the money to keep the lights on.” “You sit around here all day doing absolutely nothing. What right do you have to kick me out?” My fingernails dug so deeply into my palms that the skin nearly broke. Joshua gently tugged at her sleeve. “Kate, I should just go. I don’t want to be the reason you two fight. I can just stay at a cheap motel, it’s fine.” Kate grabbed his hand, her voice softening into a sickly sweet croon. “Your body is far too weak to stay in some rundown motel.” She turned back to me, her eyes hardening into ice. “Joshua’s current apartment has a terrible mold problem. He is going to stay here with us for a few days, at least until I can find him a suitable luxury rental.” I stood my ground, staring directly into her eyes. “Absolutely not.” My defiance clearly infuriated her. She took a threatening step toward me, radiating oppressive authority. “I wasn’t asking for your permission, Nolan. I was notifying you.” “If you refuse to apologize to Joshua right now, I won’t be coming home for the next few days. You can sit here and reflect on your toxic behavior.” 2 “Do whatever you want.” I looked at her, my voice completely dead. Kate’s face turned a mottled shade of purple. She probably expected me to compromise, to grab her arm and beg her to stay like I used to. But she calculated wrong this time. She ground her teeth, wrapped her arm securely around Joshua’s waist, and marched toward the front door. “You’re going to regret this, Nolan.” The heavy oak door slammed shut, the sheer force of it rattling the walls. The living room fell back into a suffocating, dead silence. I collapsed onto the sofa, my mind instantly drifting back to her pregnancy. That was my child growing inside her, yet she chose to have another man by her side during the ultrasounds. A wave of bitter acid burned my throat. My phone screen lit up on the table. It was a text message. From Joshua. [Nolan, Kate insisted on booking me a suite at the Four Seasons. She said she absolutely refuses to let me suffer.] Attached was a photo taken from behind, showing Kate standing at a marble concierge desk, handing over her platinum credit card. I saved the screenshot to my cloud drive and immediately blocked his number. The next morning, just as I finished a tasteless cup of black coffee, the doorbell rang. It was Kate’s executive assistant, Rachel. “Nolan, Ms. Whitmore sent me to pick up a few things.” Rachel kept her eyes glued to the floor, actively avoiding my gaze. Behind her stood two burly corporate bodyguards. They walked straight past me and headed directly for the climate-controlled storage room. A moment later, they started carrying out the premium reserve tonics and imported truffles my parents had left me before they passed away. I stepped firmly into the hallway, blocking their path. “Who gave you permission to touch those?” Rachel wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead. “Nolan, Ms. Whitmore said Joshua’s body is incredibly fragile and he needs high-end nourishment.” “She mentioned that these items were just gathering dust in here anyway.” I let out a harsh, barking laugh. She wanted to take my deceased parents’ legacy to feed her pathetic little sidepiece? “Put them down. Tell her to come get them herself if she wants them so badly.” The words had barely left my mouth when Kate’s icy voice echoed from the open doorway. “Excuse me? Am I no longer allowed to make decisions about the inventory in my own home?” She was wearing the exact same designer suit from yesterday. She clearly hadn’t come home last night. Kate strode into the foyer, waving her hand to signal the bodyguards to continue carrying the boxes. “Nolan, you can’t possibly consume all of this by yourself.” “Joshua is recovering, and his body needs these exact nutrients.” She walked right up to me, holding out an open palm. “Give me the keys to your loft studio in the South End.” My head snapped up. I stared at her in utter disbelief. That studio was my sanctuary. It was my private creative base where I worked under my secret illustration pseudonym, “Ronin”. Every inch of that space held my blood, sweat, and artistic soul. “Why the hell do you need the keys to my studio?” Kate spoke as if the answer was the most obvious thing in the world. “Joshua says the recycled air in the hotel suite is making him claustrophobic. It’s bad for his recovery.” “Your studio has great natural light and a private courtyard. I’m lending it to him for a while.” She paused, a mocking smirk playing on her lips. “It’s not like you’re doing anything important there anyway.” “Those messy little sketches of yours don’t bring in a dime. We might as well put the real estate to some practical use.” I stared at her, my blood boiling. “That is my workspace. It’s not a halfway house for your stray trash.” Kate’s eyes darkened instantly. “Watch your mouth, Nolan. Since when did Joshua become trash?” Without warning, she lunged forward and grabbed the canvas tote bag resting on the entryway console. “Give that back!” I lunged to grab it out of her hands. Using her height advantage in heels, she held the bag high out of my reach with one hand. With her other hand, she ruthlessly tipped it upside down, dumping the contents all over the hardwood floor. Keys, my phone, and my hand-drawn conceptual drafts scattered everywhere. My heart skipped a beat. I immediately dropped to my knees to rescue the delicate drafting paper. But Kate was faster. She stepped forward, the sharp stiletto heel of her shoe planting directly in the center of my artwork. She bent down and snatched the keyring holding the studio keys. “You’re an unemployed bum who paints to kill time, and you actually think you’re some kind of tortured artist?” She tossed the keys in the air and caught them, her lips curling into a cruel, satisfied smile. “I’m taking these.” “You better stay out of trouble for the next few days. If you go to the studio and harass Joshua, I’ll make you regret it.” I stared at the crumpled, dirt-stained paper trapped under her heel. It was a commercial piece I had spent three agonizing months perfecting. My chest physically ached, my heart contracting in sharp, jagged spasms. “Kate, if Nolan really doesn’t want me there, we can just forget it.” “I really don’t want to be the wedge that drives your marriage apart.” Joshua’s fragile, breathy voice floated in from the front porch. 3 “Why wouldn’t he want you there? I’m the one paying the lease on that property anyway.” Kate turned her head, her voice melting into absolute honey as she spoke to the man outside. She didn’t even bother to give me a second glance as she turned to leave. I scrambled up from the floor and blocked the doorway. “Give me the keys.” I stared into her eyes, emphasizing every single syllable. Kate scowled, her patience completely evaporated. “Are you psychotic, Nolan? It’s just a dusty old room. Are you seriously going to throw a tantrum over this?” Joshua stood on the porch, looking at me with wide, pitiful eyes. “Nolan, I know you hate me, but I really am sick.” “I just wanted a quiet place to breathe and rest.” “Drop the act,” I snapped, pointing a finger at him. “You know exactly what you’re doing, you parasite.” Joshua’s face went chalk white. He swayed dramatically, stumbling backward two steps as if he had been physically struck. Kate exploded. She shoved me with both hands, her strength fueled by sheer fury. “That is enough!” Her push caught me completely off guard. I lost my footing, stumbling backward. The base of my spine slammed violently into the sharp, solid edge of the heavy oak shoe cabinet. A blinding, agonizing pain ripped through my lower back, shooting down my legs. I gasped, instinctively clutching my spine as my legs gave out. I slid down the wooden cabinet, collapsing onto the floor. Cold sweat instantly soaked through my shirt, sticking to my skin. Kate stood over me, looking down without a single ounce of pity in her eyes. “Stop playing dead. If you want to fake an injury, at least try to make it look convincing.” She grabbed Joshua’s arm, supporting his weight, and walked right out the door. The heavy front door clicked shut once again. I lay curled on the cold floor, the agony in my spine so intense I couldn’t even draw a full breath. My hands shaking violently, I dug my phone out of my pocket and dialed for an ambulance. Hours later, in a sterile hospital room. The emergency room doctor held up my X-ray scans, his face grim. “Mr. Whitmore, you’ve sustained severe trauma to your lumbar vertebrae.” “You are going to need strict bed rest for the next several days. Absolutely no physical strain, or you risk permanent nerve damage.” I lay flat on the stiff hospital mattress. My mind drifted to the artwork destroyed under her designer heel. Then to the child, my child, growing inside her womb. A hollow, rhythmic pain pulsed in my chest. I lay in that hospital bed for an entire day. By nightfall, the acute, stabbing pain in my back had dulled to a heavy ache. Suddenly, panic set in. I realized my finalized commercial commission, a massive canvas piece, was still sitting on an easel in the South End studio. If Joshua ruined it, the breach of contract penalty would completely bankrupt me. I ripped the IV needle out of the back of my hand. Ignoring the bleeding, I forced myself upright, gritting my teeth against the pain, and hailed a cab to the studio. The front door of the loft was unlocked. I pushed it open, and the sight before me nearly tore my soul apart. Tubes of my imported, custom-mixed oil paints, worth tens of thousands of dollars, had been slashed open and stomped into the floorboards. In the center of the room, Joshua was standing with a pair of heavy fabric shears, carving jagged gashes into my nearly finished masterpiece, The Cosmos. “What the hell are you doing!” I roared, lunging forward and ripping the scissors out of his grip. He shrieked, instantly dropping to the floor. He curled into a ball, clutching his chest and wailing at the top of his lungs. “Ah! My chest! It hurts so much. Nolan, why did you shove me?” The rapid clicking of heels echoed from the hallway. Kate burst into the room. Seeing Joshua writhing on the paint-stained floor, her eyes turned bloodshot. Without asking a single question, she spun around and delivered a brutal, ringing slap across my face. The crack of her palm against my cheek echoed in the empty loft. A high-pitched ringing filled my ears. My head snapped to the side, and the metallic taste of blood flooded my mouth. “You absolute psycho! You know how weak his heart is, how could you be so vicious?” I clutched my stinging, swollen cheek, pointing a trembling finger at the shredded canvas on the easel. “He destroyed my life’s work! He is playing you for a total fool!” “Why are you defending him? You didn’t even ask what happened before you hit me!” Kate didn’t even glance at the ruined painting. She dropped to her knees, carefully gathering Joshua into her arms. “Are a few sheets of trash paper more important than a human life?” “I am warning you right now. If Joshua’s condition worsens, I will make you pay with your life.” She practically carried him out of the room, rushing down the stairs. I slumped against the wall of my ruined sanctuary, surrounded by the wreckage of my art. My phone buzzed in my pocket. The caller ID showed Kate’s name. I pressed answer. “Nolan, you terrified Joshua today. His heart rate is highly irregular.” “He’s hooked up to an IV right now. You better drag yourself down here and apologize to him on your hands and knees.” 4 “My spine is injured. I can’t make it.” My knuckles were white as I gripped a torn shred of my canvas. My voice trembled with exhaustion. A sharp, mocking scoff echoed through the phone speaker. “Your spine? Nolan, if you’re going to lie to get out of trouble, at least invent something creative.” “Tonight is the Whitmore Group’s annual anniversary gala. Even if you have to crawl on your hands and knees, you will show up.” She paused, her tone dropping into a sinister, icy threat. “The tabloids are already spinning rumors that our marriage is falling apart. If you don’t show up tonight to play the loving husband and save our stock prices.” “Tomorrow morning, I will permanently cancel the maintenance funds for your parents’ cemetery plot.” My fist clenched so hard my fingernails drew blood. My parents were buried in the most exclusive, expensive memorial park in the city. It was the ultimate leverage she had over me, and she knew exactly how to use it. “Send the address,” I ground out between clenched teeth. An hour later. Wearing a loose-fitting black suit to hide my stiff posture, I walked into the grand ballroom of a luxury downtown hotel. My face was pale, my movements slow and calculated. The ballroom was an ocean of designer gowns, champagne flutes, and blinding camera flashes. Kate was wearing a breathtaking custom haute couture gown, radiant and glowing as she mingled with corporate elites. And standing right beside her, wearing a bespoke tuxedo and a sickeningly smug smile, was Joshua. Gleaming on his wrist was a limited edition luxury watch. The exact watch Kate had gifted me for my birthday last year. I stared at the scene, the nausea churning violently in my stomach. Kate spotted me from across the room. Her smile faltered, and she marched over, her brow heavily furrowed. “You look like you’re attending a funeral. Are you deliberately trying to embarrass me?” She hissed the warning under her breath. I ignored her completely, walking straight past her to sit at an empty table in the corner. The throbbing pain in my lumbar spine was intensifying by the minute. I needed to conserve every ounce of energy just to stay upright. The host took the stage, tapping the microphone and inviting Kate up to give the keynote address. Kate stood bathed in the spotlight, pulling Joshua up to stand right beside her. “Tonight, as we celebrate the anniversary of the Whitmore Group, I have a very special announcement to make.” Her voice boomed through the high-end sound system, commanding the room. “Mr. Joshua here will officially be joining the Whitmore Group as our new Executive Art Director.” “Furthermore, he will be the sole creative force behind the highly anticipated ‘Cosmos’ illustration exhibition opening next month in the city center.” The ballroom erupted into thunderous applause. I sat frozen in my chair, feeling as if a lightning bolt had struck me directly in the chest. That was my exhibition. I had spent six grueling months planning it. She hadn’t just shredded my original drafts. She had taken my blood, sweat, and tears, and slapped her lover’s name on all of it. I slammed my hands onto the table, forcing myself to stand. I shoved my chair back and marched toward the stage. “Kate, what gives you the right to hand my life’s work over to him?” I pointed directly at the two of them, my voice shaking with pure, unadulterated rage. The applause died instantly. Every single eye in the ballroom snapped toward me. Joshua immediately shrank behind Kate’s back, his eyes widening in performed terror. “Nolan, what are you talking about? I painted every single piece for that exhibition with my own two hands.” Kate’s face turned completely purple. She glared at the security detail standing near the stage. “Are you idiots deaf? Drag this lunatic out of here right now!” Four massive security guards in black suits rushed forward. Two of them grabbed my arms, twisting them painfully behind my back. “Let go of me!” I thrashed wildly against their grip. Kate walked down the steps of the stage, stopping inches from my face. “Nolan, are you so consumed by jealousy that you’ve lost your mind?” “You are a useless leech who can barely hold a paintbrush straight. You honestly expect these people to believe you created art of that caliber?” She looked down at me, her eyes filled with absolute venom and disgust. “Get on your knees and apologize to Joshua this instant. If you refuse, I promise you won’t walk out of here tonight.” The surrounding guests began to whisper, the gossip spreading like wildfire. “Mr. Whitmore is acting like a hysterical madman.” “I heard he’s incredibly paranoid. He attacks any young artist Ms. Whitmore decides to sponsor out of pure jealousy.” The guards shoved my shoulders down, kicking the backs of my knees to force me to the floor. The violent downward pressure triggered an explosive, blinding agony in my injured spine. My vision whited out, my consciousness slipping away. I squeezed my eyes shut in total despair. Just as my knees were about to hit the cold marble floor. The heavy double doors of the ballroom were violently kicked open with a deafening crash. A low, glacial female voice sliced through the silence of the room. “Whoever dares to touch him will lose their hands tonight.”

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1 For years of our marriage, my husband Johnny built his entire persona around being entirely unbothered by the world. When I woke up at dawn to make him elaborate breakfasts, he would merely offer a brief nod. When I camped out overnight on the pavement to buy his favorite limited edition sneakers, he just gave a faint smile and moved on. Even when I lost our baby, he simply patted my shoulder, his voice laced with mild regret, telling me it was fine, we would have another, and we shouldn’t dwell on the past. He even had the audacity to stand outside my recovery room, checking his watch, informing me he truly had no time to stay and look after me because a business trip awaited him. I always convinced myself that this was just who he was. I rationalized it, telling myself that people simply have different ways of expressing emotions. That was until the day he walked through the front door, his eyes alight with a joy I had never seen before. He pulled a piece of stationery from his pocket, grinning from ear to ear. “Look at this,” he said, his voice practically vibrating. “Sophie brought it back from Europe. She said the texture of the parchment over there is entirely different from ours. I need to take a closer look at this.” Sophie was his childhood best friend. She had moved back to the States a month ago and conveniently landed a job at Johnny’s research institute. I stared at him. Then I smiled, reaching into my own bag to hand him a piece of paper. “The texture of this paper is quite unique too. I’d appreciate it if you could study this one just as closely.” I had never seen him wear his heart on his sleeve like that. He held that single sheet of stationery as if it were a rare, priceless artifact. In his rush to get through the door, he had even stepped on the heels of the exact limited edition sneakers I had painstakingly scrubbed clean that morning. Before my gasp of dismay could even leave my throat, he was already standing right in front of me. On the dining table sat his absolute favorite meal, a rich, slow simmered beef curry. He was completely blind to it. His mind, his eyes, his entire being were consumed by that single piece of paper. “Look at this,” he repeated. “Sophie said this parchment absorbs even the heaviest fountain pen ink without bleeding. The detailing on the edges is gorgeous, isn’t it? It looks like an old European castle. So elegant. We went to Europe for our honeymoon, why didn’t we think to buy something like this as a souvenir?” He rambled on and on, the words spilling out of him until the curry on the table grew cold. I finally couldn’t hold it in anymore. “Are you still eating dinner?” He didn’t even turn his head as he walked toward his study. “Oh, I already ate. Sophie mentioned the new bistro downstairs from our building was fantastic, so we went to try it out today. She was right.” My chest tightened, and my voice pitched higher than I intended. “Then why didn’t you tell me earlier? When I texted you, you said you were coming home for dinner. I spent hours simmering this curry.” He only paused when his hand was on the study doorknob. He glanced back, his expression returning to its usual flatline. “Sorry, Hazel. I forgot to text you back. It was a spur of the moment decision. I’ll definitely eat with you next time.” Next time. Over the past month, I had been force fed too many “next times”. Next time I’ll let you know in advance. Next time I’ll buy your favorite takeout. Next time I won’t forget our plans. Johnny, life doesn’t always offer a next time. And I had a feeling he was going to learn that lesson very soon. Johnny was my father’s star pupil at the university. The first time he visited our house for a holiday dinner, I fell for him instantly. I have always been the kind of woman who fights tooth and nail for what she wants. So, from the moment I laid eyes on him, I pursued him relentlessy. They say a woman chasing a man is as easy as piercing a veil of silk, but that rule clearly skipped Johnny. Most of the time, he gave me nothing but cold indifference. But he treated everyone else with the same frosty detachment, so I chalked it up to his personality. I told myself I had just fallen in love with a stone, and I fully believed I possessed enough warmth to melt it. It took me six years of trying. Eventually, he nodded. He agreed to be mine. A year into dating, we tied the knot. My father was absolutely thrilled. He adored Johnny, and because of that, he pulled countless strings to pave the way for Johnny’s academic career. Sometimes it felt like my father and my husband had more to talk about than Johnny and I did. Our marriage was respectful, quiet, and mostly harmonious. But the coldness radiating from him was far deeper than I ever anticipated. I changed up the breakfast menu every single day, yet not once did a word of praise cross his lips. When I heard about the release of those sneakers he obsessed over, I flew to Paris, abandoning my own shopping plans to sit on the pavement all night. When I handed him the box, he just offered a polite smile. Not a single word of genuine gratitude. When I unexpectedly lost our baby, he stood by the hospital bed and told me the timing was wrong anyway. I went through the trauma alone, bleeding and terrified, while he simply called once to ask if the procedure was done. If this was simply who he was, I thought I could swallow the bitter pill. Love is supposed to be tolerant. It celebrates the virtues and forgives the flaws. But then he walked back out of his study, holding that piece of stationery again, a genuine smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. “I just ordered a few more sets online. The patterns are different, but they should be just as beautiful. I really need to spend some time looking into this.” Snap. The invisible string keeping my sanity intact finally broke. His behavior over the past month had been a glaring, neon sign, reminding me that he wasn’t inherently cold. He just never wanted to spend his warmth on me. I smiled at him. I reached into my bag and pulled out a document I had prepared three days ago. I finally found the courage to hand it over. “The texture of this paper is quite unique too. I’d appreciate it if you could study this one just as closely.” It was a divorce agreement. 2 When Johnny saw the bold letters at the top of the page, a flicker of genuine shock finally cracked his composed facade. Thank God he didn’t look completely dead inside, otherwise I really would have felt like the punchline of a terrible joke. He furrowed his brows, looking genuinely bewildered. “Why bring up divorce out of nowhere? If there’s something I’m doing wrong, you can just tell me. I didn’t think we had any real issues.” I looked him dead in the eye. “Sophie came back a month ago, didn’t she?” His frown deepened, confusion shifting into mild annoyance. “Are you throwing a tantrum over Sophie? I told you about that later, didn’t I? I was busy sorting out her employment, so I forgot to mention it to you. Is it really that big of a deal?” I genuinely didn’t want to come across as an aggressive, bitter woman. But he clearly mistook my years of patience for a lack of a spine. “Did you forget to tell me, or did you actively hide it from me? Because that position she just got was supposed to be mine, wasn’t it?” I took a step closer, my voice dangerously soft. “You know damn well that if it were a fair fight, her resume belongs in the trash compared to mine. On academic merits alone, I would crush her.” “You knew that if you didn’t pull the strings in the shadows, she wouldn’t stand a chance. You were terrified I would step in and ruin her little dream job.” “Darling, you really outdid yourself. I never imagined in my wildest dreams that someone would plot against me so meticulously. And to think, that someone is my own husband.” A heavy silence fell over the room. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose before finally speaking. “You don’t need this specific job. Professor Bennett will arrange something else for you.” I nodded slowly, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. “Right. Who needs a husband when they have a father? So let’s get this divorce over with. That way, you can go back to being someone else’s lapdog without any distractions.” Mentioning the divorce seemed to finally inject some color into his pale face. His tone lost its usual detached calmness. “At the end of the day, you’re just jealous that I helped Sophie get a job. Since you insist on dragging this out, let me explain it to you.” “Sophie came back to the States because her mother is sick. Her mom is receiving treatment at the university hospital. Getting her that specific role means she can just walk across the campus to visit her mother after work.” “I even asked your father, and he agreed this role wasn’t the best fit for your long term career goals. My mother also begged me to do this favor for Sophie.” Before he could finish his pathetic defense, I cut him off. “You thought about Sophie. You thought about her mother. You thought about your mother. You even factored in my dad. But did you, for a single second, think about your wife?” He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. I couldn’t tell if he was out of excuses or just deemed me unworthy of one. It didn’t matter anymore. When I walked into the bedroom to pack my suitcases, he stood leaning against the doorframe, watching me in silence. He suddenly asked, “Why are you being so absolute about this? When a couple hits a rough patch, aren’t they supposed to work through it? You bring up the issue, I fix it. Who just skips straight to a death sentence?” I stopped folding my clothes. I turned to look at him, enunciating every single word. “I gave you chances.” “An entire month’s worth of chances. If, even once, your priority had been me, maybe I wouldn’t be packing right now.” “But every single time, you told me ‘next time’. Right up until ten minutes ago, when you missed what was supposed to be our breakup dinner. I figured you wouldn’t show up, so I put the leftovers in the fridge.” Before grabbing my coat, I reached out and patted his cheek twice. It was the most disrespectful thing I had ever done to him, but I no longer had to play the role of the perfect, obedient wife. “Don’t look so miserable, honey. I always preferred you when you looked entirely unbothered by my existence. Keep up the good work. I’m leaving.” 3 I was never his first choice. Everything and everyone had to step aside for Sophie. Just like this time. Johnny had everything perfectly wrapped up for her before he even bothered to drop the news on me. By the time he confessed, she had already been back in the country for two weeks. But the truth was, I knew the very day she landed. Because that was the first time Johnny ever broke a promise to me without a logical excuse. Johnny was a man ruled by his calendar. If he couldn’t make a dinner date, he would call hours in advance to reschedule. When he didn’t show up, I called my dad, since they worked in the same building. My dad sounded surprised over the phone. “Johnny said he was going to the airport to pick up an old friend from his hometown. Why didn’t you go with him?” Who said I didn’t? I tracked his car’s GPS straight to the upscale steakhouse we always went to for our anniversaries. Standing outside the floor to ceiling windows, I saw the two of them. My stoic, unsmiling husband was sitting there, his eyes entirely soft, meticulously cutting a piece of steak for another woman. We had eaten at that exact table dozens of times. Not once had he ever unfolded my napkin or offered to cut my food. I remembered one specific night vividly. The kitchen had overcooked my steak, and the knife they gave me was completely blunt. Feeling romantic, I had leaned over and playfully asked him to help me cut it, hoping for a cinematic, sweet moment. He didn’t say a word. He just slid his sharper knife across the table toward me. I had laughed it off, assuming he was just blind to romance. But he wasn’t blind. He knew exactly how to be romantic. From that day until now, for a full month. I turned into a stalker, haunting the edges of their lives, desperately trying to force my presence onto Johnny. I was looking for proof that I was loved. Instead, all I found was the humiliating, undeniable evidence that I wasn’t. 4 After serving the papers, I moved out of our house immediately. Then Johnny started acting completely out of character. He began texting me morning and night. Whenever he had a free moment, he would send me updates about his day at the lab. He even actively started networking to find me a new job. When I shut him down for the fifth time, his voice on the phone dripped with exhaustion. “Hazel, I am really trying to fix this. Even a man on death row gets a chance to appeal, doesn’t he?” I replied without missing a beat. “Too bad you’re not on death row. The comparison doesn’t work.” I thought a response that icy would finally force him to back off. Clearly, I underestimated his persistence. This time, he booked a dinner with a senior faculty member who had deep ties to my father. My usual excuses for declining wouldn’t work without offending the older professor. So, I had to show up. “You finally decided to give me a chance.” Johnny smiled at me across the private dining room. I just looked at him. He was wearing his usual crisp suit, his hair perfectly styled. But beneath the polish, there was a deep, bone weary exhaustion. The dark circles under his eyes told me his life hadn’t been easy lately. “Let’s talk after dinner,” he said softly. “Cards on the table. At least let me understand why I’m dying.” But the appetizers had barely arrived when his phone started buzzing. It rang so relentlessly that even the senior professor cleared his throat. “Johnny, my boy, it sounds like an emergency. You better take that. Don’t let me keep you from important business.” Johnny looked mortified. He glanced at me, then firmly shook his head. “It’s nothing important, Professor. Please, let’s continue.” To prove his point, he reached into his pocket and powered the phone off completely. I raised an eyebrow, genuinely surprised. Because in the second before he turned the screen away, I had seen the caller ID. It was Sophie. I knew better than anyone just how deep his bias for her ran. Hanging up on her was probably a first in his entire lifetime. Just as I was starting to wonder if I had misjudged him, if he was actually capable of change. The dining room doors swung open. Sophie stood there, her eyes red, tears spilling silently down her cheeks. She didn’t say a word. She just looked at him, turned on her heel, and ran. Johnny’s carefully constructed calm shattered instantly. He didn’t even pause to offer an apology to the senior professor. He bolted out of the chair and chased after her, leaving me and the old man staring at each other in stunned silence. “What… what on earth was that?” the professor stammered, clearly bewildered by the soap opera playing out in front of him. I shook my head. I should have known better. Johnny was exactly the man he had always been. Sophie was his absolute baseline, his one non negotiable. Thank God I hadn’t fallen for his little redemption act. I would never be foolish enough to believe him again. I picked up my glass of red wine and drained it in one smooth motion, swallowing down the last bitter traces of my past with Johnny. Because starting tomorrow, my life belonged entirely to me.

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1 My dad was a violent drunk. Every time he went off the deep end, his fists would find my little brother and me. When the dust settled, he’d always toss a few crumpled bills my way as a twisted apology. I took the cash without a word. I even used it to buy his favorite greasy pork ribs and the cheap, burning moonshine he loved. The neighbors tried to call the cops for us, but I always shook my head, rubbing my bruised arms with a quiet, knowing smile. If he beats me, Bobby gets a break. But that was before the night he lost his mind completely and pushed Bobby off the edge of that unfinished high-rise at the construction site. Frank’s backhand caught me hard across the jaw. I heard the sickening crack of my teeth colliding, and my cheek instantly flared like it was on fire. The taste of copper flooded my mouth. A crumpled fifty-dollar bill fluttered down, landing near my boots. “Take it! Pick it up, you useless brat!” “Consider it a tip from your old man. Go get yourself something to patch that ugly face of yours!” Frank’s neck was thick and flushed red, his chest heaving as he spat the words, spraying warm saliva all over my face. I said nothing. I just knelt down, using my swollen, throbbing fingers to pry the bill off the dusty floorboards. It was stained with a mixture of my blood and Bobby’s. But I knew money was the only way out. I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth with my sleeve, slowly lifting my eyes to stare at him. “What are you looking at? Keep staring like that and I’ll gouge those eyes out and pickle them in a jar!” “Get the hell out of here and buy me my liquor!” He roared, slumping his heavy frame into the creaking, stained armchair. The worn leather groaned under his weight. In the dark corner of the kitchen, Bobby was curled up behind the rusty stove, trembling. His skinny arms were swollen, covered in angry red and purple welts from the leather belt. I walked over and knelt beside him, gently touching his burning skin with my cold fingers. He flinched, looking up at me with eyes filled with pure, unadulterated hatred. “Nora… it hurts…” he whimpered. “Bite your tongue,” I whispered directly into his ear, my voice entirely devoid of warmth. “It’s almost over.” I stood up, clutching the fifty dollars tightly in my fist, and stepped out into the howling, dusty wind. The cheap liquor store down the road smelled of stale beer and old cardboard. I slapped the bills onto the counter. “Ten pints of your strongest moonshine, Mr. Higgins,” I said. “The kind that burns right through your stomach.” Higgins looked at the fresh bruise blooming on my cheek and sighed. “Oh, Nora, sweetheart… why do you keep doing this to yourself?” “He beats you half to death, and you still run errands for him?” A regular sitting near the door, nursing a cheap beer, chimed in. “Frank’s a damn animal. If I were you, kid, I’d have slipped some rat poison into his glass a long time ago.” I ignored them, my face a blank mask as I watched the clerk pour the cloudy, amber liquid into a plastic jug. Next door, I bought two pounds of thick, fatty pork belly, dripping with grease. By the time I got back to the trailer, Frank was passed out on the table, his snores rattling the thin windowpanes. I slammed the heavy jug onto the wood. The thud startled him awake. He bolted upright, blinking wildly. “My drink! Where’s my damn drink!” “Did you steal a sip of it, you little thief?” He snatched the jug, ripped the cap off with his teeth, and guzzled it down. The cloudy liquor spilled down his stubble, soaking his dirty undershirt. “Here’s the pork, Dad. Eat it while it’s hot,” I said, my voice dripping with sweet obedience. “Nice and greasy, just the way you like it.” I pushed the plate toward him. He grabbed a handful of the glistening fat, shoving it into his mouth, grease smearing across his chin. “Yeah… Nora’s a good girl… not like that worthless brother of yours…” “That kid is a curse… a goddamn curse…” Suddenly, he stopped, raised his calloused hand, and delivered a violent slap to his own face. The sharp crack echoed through the cramped room, making Bobby flinch in his corner. “I didn’t have a choice… I really didn’t…” He broke down, sobbing hysterically, snot and tears mixing with the grease on his face. I stood in the shadows, watching him with cold, calculating eyes. I reached into my pocket and touched a neatly folded piece of paper, the accidental death insurance policy. Under the dim, flickering light bulb, I mentally counted down the days until it took effect. Just three more days. If I could survive three more days, his miserable life would finally be worth something. Once Frank finished crying, he took another massive swig of the moonshine and exhaled a hot, boozy breath right into my face. “Drink up, Nora… take a sip… it makes the pain go away…” “Drink it, and you’ll see your mother again…” He shoved the jug toward me, his bloodshot eyes boring into mine. I stared at the thick vein pulsing erratically on his neck. I wondered how many more times that vein would beat before it went still forever. “I’m fine, Dad. I don’t hurt,” I said softly. Inside the damp, sweltering trailer, the air was heavy with the stench of sweat and cheap alcohol. I quietly rubbed soothing liniment onto Bobby’s back. With every touch, his muscles tensed, but he bit his lip, refusing to make a sound. 2 “Nora, I want to kill him.” Bobby spoke suddenly, his voice chillingly flat. My hand froze. A drop of the dark red liniment fell onto the worn mattress, blooming like a fresh drop of blood. “Shut your mouth,” I hissed, keeping my voice low. “You go to prison for murder. We are going to survive this, Bobby. We have to live.” “Then how much longer?” He turned his head, his dark eyes locked onto mine. “Soon.” I pulled his shirt down, covering the raw welts. “Just wait for the date. Once it comes, we’re free.” Outside, Frank’s booming voice carried through the thin walls as he bragged to his drinking buddies. “I’m telling you, having a daughter is like sitting on a goldmine! When she’s old enough, I’ll marry her off to the highest bidder. Twenty grand, minimum!” “Quit dreaming, Frank. That girl of yours is as skinny as a stray cat. Who’d pay for that?” “Shut your mouth! She’s delicate, that’s what! Besides, she’s obedient. She does exactly what I tell her to do!” A chorus of crude laughter echoed outside. My chest remained completely hollow. No anger, no sadness. Just empty. At dinner, I took a bottle of his blood pressure medication and slipped in a few crushed tablets of Disulfiram, a severe alcohol-deterrent drug. I’d read about it online. On its own, it was harmless, but when mixed with alcohol, it triggered violent, terrifying psychotic episodes within minutes. Frank didn’t suspect a thing. He tossed the pills into his mouth and washed them down with a heavy swig of moonshine. “Why’s this stuff taste so bitter?” He grimaced, wiping his mouth. “It’s the new imported stuff, Dad. It’s supposed to work better,” I lied without blinking. A few minutes later, the reaction hit. Frank became wildly erratic. He started pacing the trailer, his eyes bulging out of their sockets. “Ghosts! There are goddamn ghosts in here! She’s back!” “She’s come to drag me to hell!” He screamed, pointing his empty jug at the empty corner, swinging it wildly. Bobby and I huddled together on the mattress, watching him lose his mind. The drug was working perfectly. The next morning, Bill, a local subcontractor who doubled as a sleazy matchmaker, knocked on our door. “Listen, Frank, Nora is getting older,” Bill said, leaning against the doorframe. “Lame Pete down the road is willing to pay five thousand dollars cash for her…” The shirt I was washing slipped from my hands. But to my surprise, Frank flew into a violent rage. He grabbed Bill’s bottle of whiskey and smashed it on the floor. “Get the hell out of here, you old leech!” “Who said I’m selling my girl? She’s going to college!” He grabbed a rusted shovel and swung it at Bill’s head. Bill scrambled out of the trailer, cursing and running for his life. I stood frozen, staring at my father. Late that night, a strange, metallic scraping sound woke me. Bobby was sitting upright at the edge of the mattress. Under the pale moonlight, he was holding a pair of rusted sewing shears, tracing the air right behind Frank’s sleeping head. I lunged forward, ripping the shears from his hands and covering his mouth. “Are you insane? We agreed I would handle this!” I whispered fiercely. Bobby looked at me, his eyes filling with a strange, childlike hurt. “Nora, I don’t want to wait anymore. What if he sells you? I don’t want to be left alone.” I pulled his frail body into a tight hug, my tears finally spilling over. “He won’t. I will never leave you, Bobby. I promise.” The next afternoon, Frank woke up sober. He sat on the edge of his creaking bed, staring at an old, faded photograph of Bobby and me. We were laughing in the picture, back when Mom was still alive. A heavy tear fell onto the plastic frame, right over Mom’s face. “Nora… look after your brother… I’m a piece of garbage…” “I’m so sorry…” he muttered, his voice cracked and hollow. I stood by the doorway, listening to his pathetic confession, my mind entirely focused on the poisoned liquor waiting in the cupboard. The sky outside turned a bruised, heavy purple as a storm rolled in. Up on the construction site, the wind howled through the skeletal steel structures. The thirty-story unfinished building had nothing but a few loose metal pipes acting as a guardrail. Frank was on the night shift, guarding the materials on the roof. Using the excuse of bringing him dinner, I slipped past the broken security cameras with Bobby in tow. By the time we climbed thirty flights of stairs, my legs were shaking violently. “Nora, this is it,” Bobby whispered, pointing to the loose guardrail at the edge of the abyss. He reached into his backpack and handed me a heavy wrench. 3 “Do it, Nora. Just loosen it a couple of turns.” “Nobody will ever know. It’ll look like a tragic accident.” I took the wrench, my palms slick with sweat. I knelt on the cold concrete, forcing the wrench onto the rusted bolt holding the guardrail together. The metal was seized. I pulled so hard my fingernail cracked, a thin line of blood oozing onto the gray steel. “Let me do it,” Bobby said, pushing me aside. He wedged a small pry bar into the joint. With a sharp metallic pop, the weak weld snapped. The guardrail wobbled slightly. Then, we smeared a thick layer of discarded motor oil over the concrete near the edge. Bobby looked at our trap, a quiet, eerie smile spreading across his face. We packed up our tools, ready to slip away unnoticed. But as we reached the stairwell of the second floor, a dry cough echoed from the shadows. “Who’s there? Trying to steal my steel, you rats?” “Stop right there!” It was Frank. I grabbed Bobby’s hand, ready to bolt. “Nora? Bobby? What the hell are you two doing here?” Frank stepped out of the darkness, shining a flashlight directly into our faces. The blinding light made me wince. I instinctively shifted my weight to hide the backpack behind my frame. “Dad… I… it looked like it was going to pour, so we brought you a thick jacket,” I stammered, my heart hammering against my ribs. Frank eyed us suspiciously, his flashlight lingering on our mud-caked boots. “Why didn’t you call me first?” “This place is a death trap at night. You could have broken your necks!” He muttered a curse, reaching into his pocket to pull out a small plastic bottle, shoving it into my hands. “Take this. It’s calcium vitamins for the kid. He’s too damn small for his age.” I squeezed the plastic bottle, still warm from his body heat. “Thanks, Dad. Just… be careful up there. The wind is bad.” “Don’t drink too much.” “Yeah, yeah. Get the hell home and do your homework! You’re both a pain in my ass!” He waved us off, turning to make the long climb up the stairs. His back looked so bent, so fragile in the dark. I watched him go, the heavy wrench in my backpack pressing hard against my spine. At midnight, the storm hit with full force. Lightning fractured the sky, and thunder drowned out the world. Bobby and I, wrapped in dark raincoats, made our way back up to the roof. Inside the makeshift guard shack, Frank was sitting near the edge, a bottle in hand. It was the bottle of moonshine I had heavily spiked with Disulfiram. The burning, cheap alcohol had completely masked the bitter drug. He had drunk nearly the entire bottle. His eyes were bulging, his face twisted in a manic frenzy. “Drink! Everybody drinks!” “Just you and me tonight, sweetheart! Let’s drink to the end!” Seeing us walk in, he slammed the bottle onto the table. “Nora! Bobby! Perfect timing!” “Look! Your mother is here to take us home! She’s flying up there!” He pointed a trembling finger into the dark, stormy sky, his face contorted in a grotesque grin. Suddenly, his expression shifted, turning dark and feral. “Wait… no! You cheating whore! Who is that man with you?” “You brought your lover to my house?” He grabbed a wooden stool and smashed it against the empty air. Splinters flew everywhere. He spun around, his bloodshot eyes locking onto Bobby. “It’s you! You little bastard!” “You ruined her! You’re not my son, you’re the product of her filthy secrets! You’re trying to destroy me, aren’t you?” He lunged forward, clutching a broken wooden leg from the stool. “Run, Bobby! Run!” I screamed, shoving my brother toward the edge of the platform. Bobby shrieked, stumbling backward in the mud and rain. “I’m cleansing this house tonight!” Frank roared, chasing after him. “Both of you are going to burn!” Bobby slipped near the loosened guardrail, his feet sliding on the motor oil. He fell backward, his lower half dangling over the thirty-story drop. “Help! Nora, help me!” Bobby screamed. Frank reached the edge, his manic rage instantly freezing into pure horror as he saw Bobby slipping. “Bobby!” Frank bellowed, dropping the wooden club and lunging forward without a second thought. He grabbed Bobby by the collar, throwing his entire weight backward to pull his son up. But the guardrail couldn’t hold them both. The metal pipe tore free with a violent snap. Frank lost his footing, his body rolling over the slick concrete and slipping over the edge. But the momentum of his desperate pull threw Bobby forward, back onto the safe concrete of the roof. Bobby lay there, panting, his eyes incredibly cold and calm. Frank, however, hadn’t fallen yet. He was dangling from the edge, his thick, calloused fingers desperately gripping a rusted rebar hook. The torrential rain beat down on his face. “Nora… save me… pull me up…” “Please, Nora…” He saw me walking toward the edge, a flicker of desperate hope igniting in his eyes. I knelt on the wet concrete, looking down at him. Rainwater ran down my hair, stinging my eyes. I slowly reached out, placing my hands over his trembling fingers. “Dad, didn’t you say living was too hard anyway?” I whispered. Frank froze, his eyes widening. “Nora… what are you doing… I’m your father…” “I’m your dad…” “I know,” I said, a faint smile breaking across my face. “That’s why I’m sending you to Mom. She’s been waiting for you.” I began to pry his fingers away from the steel, one by one. But just before his grip broke, a sudden, ice-cold shiver ran down my spine. Through the heavy curtain of rain behind me, I heard a sound. A tiny, faint footstep. Frank’s eyes bypassed me, staring directly into the shadows over my shoulder, his face contorted in absolute terror. “Run!” he screamed. The next second, before I could even push him, he let go of the rebar himself.

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To save my brother, I willingly became Ethan Thorne’s mistress for three years. I thought if I was good enough, I could eventually melt his cold heart. That was until I overheard him at a star-studded charity gala, laughing with his friends: “Lily? Just a plaything I could buy off. Serena’s pregnant. We’re getting engaged next month.” In that moment, my heart turned to ash. In front of everyone, I slammed the priceless pink diamond he had just bought onto his face, then turned and walked into the rainy night. Later, I became a rising star in the business world, with countless admirers. But the arrogant billionaire heir, Ethan Thorne, was the one who knelt at my door on a stormy night, his eyes bloodshot: “Lily, please, just look at me again…” The deep autumn in Manhattan was bone-chilling. But inside the Ritz Hotel’s top-floor charity gala, it was a scene of dazzling elegance, warm as spring. I sat in a corner of the lounge, staring at the balance on my phone. Leo’s medical bills were almost depleted again. Ethan brought me tonight, saying he wanted to bid on something for me, a gift for our three-year anniversary. A part of me actually felt a flicker of hope. Three years. He had never brought me to a public event before. This was the first time. Footsteps and hushed laughter drifted from outside the door. “Ethan, you’re really splashing out this time, huh? Thirty million for a pink diamond, didn’t even bat an eye.” It was Ethan’s childhood friend, Mr. Davis. “Serena likes it. What’s thirty million?” Ethan’s voice was lazy, nonchalant. My heart plummeted. Serena? Serena Cross? The heiress from the Cross family who just returned from abroad? “But what about the one in your lounge? She’s been with you for three years, she deserves some credit, or at least some consideration for her effort, right?” Mr. Davis lowered his voice, a hint of mockery in his tone. Ethan chuckled. That laugh, thin as the door separating us, pierced through my heart like a knife. “Lily?” His voice was dismissive, as if he were discussing an unimportant item. “Just a plaything I could easily dismiss with money. Her brother needs saving; she wouldn’t dare make a scene.” “Right. Serena’s pregnant, and you’re getting engaged next month. It’s time to clean house, get rid of anyone who shouldn’t be around.” I sat on the sofa, utterly frozen. It was like falling into an ice pit. Pregnant? Engaged? Just three days ago, he held me close, whispering in my ear that after Leo’s surgery, we’d go to Iceland to see the Northern Lights. It was all a lie. The deep affection I believed was real was just a handout after he weighed the pros and cons. The door opened. Ethan, dressed in a designer suit, walked in, holding the velvet box containing the pink diamond. Seeing my pale face, he frowned slightly. “What’s wrong? Not feeling well?” He walked over, reaching out to caress my head, a familiar gesture. I turned my head away, dodging his hand. His hand froze in mid-air, and his eyes darkened. “What’s with the attitude?” His voice held a trace of impatience. I stood up, looking him directly in the eyes. “Are you getting engaged?” My voice was eerily calm. Ethan paused. Then, he tossed the box onto the coffee table and tugged at his tie. “You heard?” He showed no sign of being caught off guard, instead, there was an air of casual frankness. “Serena’s pregnant. The Cross family can help me secure the Southside development project.” He looked at me, like he was reassuring an ignorant subordinate. “Just be good. This pink diamond is yours, and the money I give you will double every month. You won’t lack anything, except that title.” I looked at the pink diamond, sparkling with a dazzling, almost blinding light. Suddenly, I felt utterly disgusted. “Ethan Thorne.” I called his full name. “Do you really think my dignity, Lily’s dignity, can be bought with money?” He scoffed. “What else? Have you paid for Leo’s dialysis tomorrow? Without me, you two would have starved on the streets long ago.” He was certain I couldn’t leave him. Because I was poor, because I had a sick brother who was a burden. I took a deep breath. I picked up the velvet box from the table. Ethan’s lips curved into a mocking smile, thinking I had finally conceded. The next second. I raised my hand and slammed the box squarely onto his face. “CRACK!” The box hit his forehead, bounced to the floor, and the pink diamond rolled deep into the carpet. Ethan’s forehead immediately turned red. His eyes widened in disbelief. “Lily! Are you crazy?!” “Yes, I am crazy.” I stared at him coldly. “Consider these three years wasted on a dog. We’re over.” With that, I turned without hesitation, pushed open the door, and walked into the cold hallway.

“Stop!” Ethan roared from behind me. I didn’t stop. The elevator at the end of the hallway opened just then. I quickly stepped inside and pressed the close door button. The elevator doors slowly shut, cutting off Ethan’s enraged face. Stepping out of the hotel, the cold wind, mixed with a fine drizzle, hit me. I pulled my thin trench coat tighter and walked into the rain. My phone vibrated wildly in my pocket. All calls from Ethan. I turned it off directly, pulled out the SIM card, and tossed it into a roadside trash can. I returned to the luxury apartment in the city center. Ethan’s scent was everywhere. The walk-in closet was filled with designer dresses he bought me, and the vanity table held complete sets of expensive skincare products. I found an old suitcase. I only packed a few of my old clothes, a few textbooks, and a five-year-old beat-up laptop. I didn’t touch any of the glittering jewelry or branded bags. I neatly placed the black card, car keys, and access card Ethan had given me on the shoe cabinet by the entrance. I took one last look at this “gilded cage” I had lived in for three years. With a resounding “BANG,” I closed the door. Dragging my suitcase, I took the last night bus. It brought me to a dilapidated neighborhood. This was a forgotten corner of the bustling city. Narrow alleys, puddles of murky water, and the air thick with the sour smell of cheap fast food mixed with sewage. I knocked on the door of a run-down boarding house with a red light on. “How much for the cheapest single room?” The woman behind the counter eyed me up and down. “Top floor, no AC, shared bathroom, six hundred a month, a month’s rent as deposit, plus three months upfront.” “Okay.” I paid the money and got the key. The room was only about a hundred square feet. A wooden bed, a shaky wardrobe. The paint was peeling, and there was a yellowish water stain on the ceiling. I sat on the hard bed, listening to the sounds of snoring and a baby crying from next door. It was noisy. But I felt a freedom I had never experienced before. The next morning. I went to the hospital. Leo lay in his hospital bed, his face as white as paper. Seeing me, he forced a weak smile. “Lily, you didn’t come to see me yesterday.” “Yesterday… I had to work overtime.” I walked over and tucked his blanket in. “Lily, where’s Mr. Thorne? He hasn’t been here in a while.” Leo asked innocently. My heart ached. “Leo,” I looked into his eyes and said seriously, “from now on, don’t mention him again. We have nothing to do with him anymore.” Leo froze. He was sick, but he wasn’t stupid. He looked at my swollen eyes and seemed to understand something. “Lily, is it because of me… Am I holding you back?” His eyes reddened. “Don’t be silly.” I held his cold hand. “You’re the only family I have in this world. As long as you’re okay, I’m not afraid of anything.” As I walked out of the ward, the nurse on duty at the station called out to me. “Lily, the money in your brother’s account will only last for three more days. The follow-up targeted therapy costs fifty thousand per injection. You need to find a way to get funds quickly.” “I understand, thank you.” I walked out of the hospital, standing on the busy street. The sunlight was blinding. I touched the necklace around my neck. It was the only memento my mom left me. I gritted my teeth, then turned and walked into a pawn shop on the corner. “Ten thousand.” The owner, after examining it with a magnifying glass for a long time, named a price. “But it’s an antique necklace!” I exclaimed. “Times are tough, young lady. This necklace, this is the price. Take it or leave it.” The owner said, like he knew he had me over a barrel. I closed my eyes. Leo’s pale face flashed in my mind. “Fine, I’ll pawn it.” With the ten thousand dollars, I immediately deposited it into the hospital account. This ten thousand would only last half a month. I had to find a job as soon as possible.

I thought that with my degree from a top university, finding a job wouldn’t be difficult. But I underestimated Ethan Thorne’s influence. In one week, I sent out hundreds of resumes. Either they went nowhere, or after passing an interview, I’d get a call the next day saying I wasn’t suitable. Until I went to a decent internet company. The HR manager handed my resume back directly. “Ms. Lily, if you’ve crossed the wrong person, New York isn’t the place for you anymore. Go back home.” I clutched the resume, my nails digging into my palms. Ethan Thorne. He wanted to push me to the brink, force me to come back and beg him. I stood under the scorching sun, looking at the distant Thorne Industries building. Towering into the clouds, absolutely domineering. “Ethan Thorne, you wish.” I gritted my teeth, saying each word slowly. If I couldn’t get into a big company, I’d go to a small one. A place that didn’t require background or academic qualifications, only results. Finally, I joined a newly established real estate agency. A base salary of fifteen hundred, commission entirely dependent on my sales. An office without AC, a beat-up electric scooter, and every day, I’d be out on the streets, handing out flyers under nearly 100-degree Fahrenheit heat. “Excuse me, interested in buying a house? New development in the South District, great school zone!” I stopped a middle-aged woman passing by and handed her a thick stack of flyers. The woman waved her hand dismissively, like shooing a fly. “Go away, go away, it’s too hot!” The flyers scattered across the ground. I knelt down, picking them up one by one. Sweat stung my eyes. My white shirt was soaked with sweat, clinging to my back. But I had no time to complain. After half a month, I was tanned and had lost ten pounds. But I also closed three small deals, earning over ten thousand dollars in commission. On payday, I bought a roasted chicken and took it to the hospital to share with Leo. Leo ate heartily, his mouth covered in grease, laughing happily. Looking at him, I felt it was all worth it. Just when I thought my life was finally getting back on track. Trouble came knocking. That afternoon, my manager suddenly called me into his office. “Lily, we have a big client tonight, specifically asking to see the villa at South Hill Estates. You’re coming with me.” Mr. Peterson rubbed his hands, his face excited. “South Hill Estates? That’s a hundred-million-dollar mansion!” “Exactly! If we close it, the commission alone will be over a million! You’re in luck, kid!” I felt a faint unease. How could such a big deal fall to me, a newcomer? But a million-dollar commission was too tempting. With that money, Leo’s surgery and subsequent recovery costs would all be covered. I pushed down my doubts and followed Mr. Peterson to South Hill Estates. The moment I pushed open the door to the luxurious private room. All the blood in my veins froze. On the leather sofa. Ethan Thorne had his legs crossed, a glass of red wine in his hand, looking at me with a half-smile. Serena Cross leaned against him, dressed in a Chanel maternity outfit, her face full of coy charm. There were a few other trust fund kids from their circle in the private room, all staring at me with expressions of eager anticipation. “Mr. Thorne, I’ve brought her.” Mr. Peterson bowed and fawned over him. I turned to leave. “Stop.” Ethan’s voice was cold. Two bodyguards immediately blocked the door. I turned back, looking at him coldly. “Mr. Thorne, if you’re buying, let’s see the house. If not, I need to get off work.” Serena let out a snicker. “Ethan, is this the stubborn woman you were talking about? Look at the state she’s in now.” She eyed my cheap professional outfit and my tanned, rough skin, her eyes full of disdain. “Heard you’re selling houses? Fine.” Serena pulled a stack of cash from her bag and tossed it onto the table. “Drink these three bottles of liquor on the table, and I’ll sign for this hundred-million-dollar villa with you.” On the table were three bottles of expensive, high-proof tequila. Mr. Peterson was frantically signaling me from the side. “Lily, drink it! This is Mr. Thorne and Ms. Cross doing you a favor!” I looked at the three bottles of tequila. I’m allergic to alcohol. Drinking this much could be fatal. Ethan looked at me, his eyes holding an air of condescending charity. “Lily, if you drink it, not only will this deal be credited to you, but I’ll cover all of Leo’s future treatment abroad.” He was certain I would concede. Just like every time he had used Leo to manipulate me over the past three years. I walked to the table. Serena’s smile grew wider. “A pauper is a pauper, willing to throw away her life for money.” I picked up a bottle of tequila. I unscrewed the cap. Then. With a flick of my wrist. “SPLASH!” The entire bottle of liquor was precisely doused all over Serena’s Chanel dress, worth hundreds of thousands.

“AHH—!” Serena shrieked, jumping up, the pungent smell of alcohol instantly filling the room. “You bitch! Are you crazy?!” She pointed at me, trembling with rage. Dead silence filled the private room. Everyone gasped. Mr. Peterson was so terrified his legs went weak, and he collapsed onto the floor. Ethan’s face instantly darkened to an extreme. He abruptly stood up and grabbed my wrist. His grip was so strong, it felt like he wanted to crush my bones. “Lily, are you asking to die?!” His voice was gritted through his teeth, filled with towering fury. I met his furious glare, a cold smile playing on my lips. “Mr. Thorne, didn’t Ms. Cross enjoy her drink? I just helped her with a little washing. No need to thank me.” I forcefully pulled my hand free. “Your dirty money? I find it disgusting.” “BANG!” I turned, kicked away the bodyguard blocking the door, and strode out of the private room. Behind me, I heard Serena’s crying and Ethan’s sound of smashing a glass. I walked along the tree-lined road outside South Hill Estates. The night wind blew, and I realized my back was completely soaked. In that moment, I was genuinely afraid. Ethan could crush me as easily as an ant. But I was even more afraid of bending my spine again. Returning to my rental room, I was utterly exhausted. As soon as I lay down, Mr. Peterson’s call came in. “Lily! Don’t bother coming in tomorrow! You crossed Mr. Thorne, and if you want to self-destruct, don’t drag the company down with you!” The call was abruptly cut off. I looked at the black screen of my phone and let out a bitter laugh. Another job gone. The next day, I started sending out resumes again. But this time, the situation was worse than before. The entire real estate industry had blacklisted me. I walked under the scorching sun, looking at the mere three thousand dollars left in my bank account, feeling a despair I’d never felt before. Was I truly no match for him? Just as I squatted on the curb, burying my face in my arms. A pair of gleaming black leather shoes stopped in front of me. “Ms. Lily, our CEO would like to see you.” A man in a sharp suit handed me a business card. “Sterling Group, CEO’s Executive Assistant.” I froze. Sterling Group? That was the only business giant that could contend with Thorne Industries. I followed the assistant to the CEO’s office on the top floor of the Sterling Group building. A tall, slender figure stood by the floor-to-ceiling window. Hearing footsteps, he turned around. His features were sharp, his gaze deep, exuding an aura of authority that needed no anger. Sterling Group CEO, Julian Vance. “Lily?” He eyed me, then gestured to the sofa opposite him. “Sit.” I sat down, a bit reserved. “Mr. Vance, you wanted to see me…” Julian pushed a file across the table to me. “I’ve seen the proposal you did in college for urban renewal. It was brilliant.” I paused. That was my work from junior year, which won a national gold award, but after I started being with Ethan, I never touched such things again. “Ethan Thorne is blacklisting you.” Julian said directly. “No one in New York would dare hire you but me.” He looked at me, his eyes sharp. “I’m giving you an opportunity. Sterling Group is bidding for the Southside land, and I need someone familiar with grassroots operations and with enough ambition.” “A base salary of ten thousand, five percent project commission. Fail, and you’re out.” Five percent! That Southside land was worth billions, so five percent was tens of millions! My breath hitched. “Why me?” I couldn’t help but ask. Julian smiled faintly. “Because yesterday at South Hill Estates, you poured a bottle of liquor on Serena Cross.” “The enemy of my enemy is my friend. I like people with grit.” I took a deep breath, stood up, and nodded firmly, my voice steady. “Mr. Vance, I won’t let you down.” From that day on, I officially joined the Sterling Group. I worked like a maniac. Daytime, I was on-site, doing background checks; nights, I pulled all-nighters revising proposals. The Southside land was a complex situation, involving many resistant homeowners and long-standing disputes. I visited each family, doing individual outreach. Once, I was even bitten on the calf by a dog released by a grumpy homeowner. After getting my rabies shot, I hobbled back to knock on doors. Julian saw my relentless effort. He began to personally mentor me, teaching me the cunning and deception of the business world, teaching me how to read people. Under Julian’s guidance, my growth rate was astonishing. In just three months, I secured eighty percent of the demolition agreements for the Southside project. A week before the bidding conference. Ethan Thorne made his move.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “409066”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

My mother-in-law, Eleanor, was trapped in a fire, trying to save my treasured heirloom necklace. She suffered severe burns over 70% of her body, hanging by a thread. She desperately needed $500,000 for skin grafts and anti-infection surgeries. I frantically tried to withdraw our recently matured savings, only to find the account completely empty. I called my husband, Ethan, but his ‘one true love,’ Genevieve, answered the phone. “Ethan, this $5,000,000 pink diamond necklace looks so perfect with my custom gown. I’ll definitely steal the show on the red carpet tonight.” A chill ran through me, but Ethan’s voice, hushed and impatient, growled from the other end of the line, “I lent the money to Genevieve to make a statement first. A little burn cream is all my mom needs, don’t bother me!” He didn’t know that $500,000 was his own mother’s life, slowly clawing back from the BICU. Later, he pounded his head against the floor outside the sterile unit, begging me to save her. I only handed him a pair of handcuffs.

Dr. Miller emerged from the burn intensive care unit, his scrubs still on, his brows deeply furrowed. “Olivia, Eleanor’s family?” I shot up from the floor, my legs numb from kneeling for so long. I stumbled forward. “I’m here.” I clutched the wall, my voice hoarse, like sandpaper. He handed me a long payment slip and a critical condition notice simultaneously. His voice was low, yet every word hit like a ton of bricks: “The patient has 70% deep second-to-third degree burns across her body, accompanied by severe inhalation injuries. Her condition is very unstable tonight, and infection indicators are off the charts. Basic resuscitation will continue, but subsequent imported anti-infection medication and continuous hemodialysis require family consent and the fees must be paid as soon as possible. A deposit of $500,000 is needed first.” I stared at the string of despairing numbers on the payment slip, my vision blurring, my ears ringing. My mother-in-law, Eleanor, had been burned that afternoon. An old house in an older part of the city had suffered a sudden electrical short and caught fire. The flames spread quickly. Neighbors had all run out, and Eleanor had initially escaped too. But then she remembered a necklace my mother had left me before she died, still in a bedroom drawer in the old house. She knew it was my most cherished keepsake, and she rushed back into the flames without a second thought. By the time the firefighters pulled her out, she was unrecognizable. Her skin was peeling and burnt, emitting a suffocating smell of scorched flesh. Before she was pushed into the BICU, she couldn’t even open her eyes, yet she clutched a smoke-blackened jade bracelet, trying with all her strength to press it into my hand. Her dry, cracked lips moved for a long time, only managing a faint whisper: “Olivia… it’s not broken… don’t cry…” In that moment, my heart felt like it was being ripped apart. But the one who should have been here, her own son, Ethan, was nowhere to be seen. I trembled as I pulled out my phone and dialed the number I knew by heart. The first call went unanswered. The second was immediately hung up. It wasn’t until the fifteenth call that the phone finally connected. Before I could speak, a woman’s seductively sweet laughter floated from the other end. “Ethan, help me put on this necklace. This pink diamond truly suits my complexion. I’ll definitely be the center of attention on the film festival red carpet tonight.” I froze, feeling like I’d been plunged into an ice bath. Ethan’s voice quickly dropped. “Olivia?” I clutched the payment slip so hard my nails almost dug into my flesh, biting back my anger. “Where are you?” He was silent for two seconds, his tone laced with impatience. “I’m handling an urgent matter outside.” “Your mother is in the BICU with 70% severe burns. The doctors need $500,000 for her life-saving treatment, and you’re telling me you have an urgent matter?” I practically roared. The other end of the line went silent for a moment, then Genevieve’s cloyingly sweet and artificial voice broke through. “Olivia, don’t worry. Aren’t the doctors at the hospital treating Eleanor? Ethan is with me on important business; tonight is incredibly important to me.” I laughed, a bitter, shaking sound born of pure fury. “What important business? More important than your own mother’s life?!” Ethan’s voice immediately turned cold, a clear warning in his tone: “Olivia, don’t be so harsh. Genevieve is walking the international film festival red carpet tonight. Her team invested so many resources. If she doesn’t have a show-stopping piece of jewelry to make a statement tonight, her rivals will tear her apart. Who’s going to cover those losses?” I almost thought I was hallucinating. “What about the $500,000 in our account that just matured?” I demanded, my voice sharp. “The bank manager just said the money was fully transferred by you at 1 PM this afternoon. Where did it go?!” Ethan paused, then spoke with infuriating self-righteousness. “I already used that money to pay the rental and deposit for Genevieve’s pink diamond necklace. You figure something out for Mom for a couple of days. Just put some burn cream on it, she’ll be fine. Don’t make a big deal out of nothing.” I stood in the empty, cold corridor, the constant beeping of monitoring equipment filling my ears. The cold seeped into my very bones. “Ethan.” I asked him, enunciating each word. “Do you know where your mother is right now? Do you know what deep third-degree burns mean?”

His voice grew even more agitated: “Of course I know! But she’s lying in the hospital, isn’t she? Doctors always exaggerate to scare families into paying more. Genevieve’s situation is different. The red carpet is about to start, hundreds of media cameras are on her, there can’t be a single mistake!” Genevieve’s soft voice cooed from beside him: “Ethan, don’t argue with Olivia. If Eleanor were awake, she’d surely want you to seize this opportunity first, right? After all, when my commercial value rises, I’ll be in a better position to ‘take care’ of Eleanor, won’t I?” Seize this opportunity. I looked down at the glaring red words “CRITICAL CONDITION” on the payment slip and suddenly felt utterly absurd. My mother-in-law had been so frugal her entire life, almost to the point of being harsh. She’d price-compare at several grocery stores just to save a few bucks. Her air conditioner broke last summer, but she wouldn’t replace it, saving every penny so Ethan could buy a new house. Last year, when I suffered a severe hemorrhage from an ectopic pregnancy, Ethan sat in the hospital corridor for just ten minutes before excusing himself for a company meeting and leaving. It was Eleanor who stayed by my side for half a month, never leaving, barely sleeping. She’d grumble about my poor health, but she’d wake up countless times in the middle of the night, checking my forehead for a fever. If I so much as shifted in bed, she reacted faster than the nurses. She wasn’t highly educated, and sometimes her words were rough. But when my life was on the line, she protected me with her own. Now she lay charred black in a sterile unit, close to death. Yet her biological son was using her life-saving money to rent a diamond necklace for another woman to walk the red carpet. Dr. Miller, seeing my pale, swaying face, walked over and sternly reminded me: “Family, it’s best not to delay any longer. The patient’s blood volume is critically low; if we don’t start CRRT immediately, her kidney function will fail.” I snapped back to reality, abruptly hanging up the phone. “Doctor, I’ll find a way, right away!” I transferred all the money from my bank accounts and maxed out three credit cards, barely scraping together $80,000. The cashier looked at the system and reminded me coldly: “You’re still short $420,000.” I turned, clutching the thin receipt, and saw the massive digital screen in the hospital lobby, broadcasting the international film festival red carpet live. [Rising star Genevieve stuns with a multi-million dollar pink diamond, escorted by a mysterious male companion who never leaves her side.] On the screen, Ethan wore a tailored tuxedo, his hair immaculately groomed, a charming, polite smile on his face. There wasn’t a hint of a son worried about his dying mother. Genevieve wore a shimmering mermaid gown, clinging to his arm, the huge pink diamond on her neck refracting blinding light under the spotlights. She flashed a captivating smile at the cameras, like a queen on her throne. I stared intently at the screen, then suddenly tightened my grip on the payment slip and turned to leave. I’d see how much luxury and glamour he was paving for Genevieve with Eleanor’s skin and blood.

The film festival was held at the Starlight Grand Theater in the city center. When I arrived, the red carpet was already nearing its end, the perimeter packed with frenzied fans and media outlets of all kinds. Security was extremely tight; the red carpet stretched from the plaza all the way into the theater’s main hall, flanked by flashing lights and fan signs. On the most prominent massive LED fan truck, Genevieve’s stunning posters scrolled continuously, with the caption: [Exclusively sponsored by Mr. Ethan.] Genevieve was standing in the interview area at the end of the red carpet, her voice sickeningly sweet. “This necklace holds profound meaning for me. I want to thank all my fans for their support, and especially this most important person beside me. Without his unwavering support, I might not be standing here today.” As she spoke, her eyes, brimming with affection, gazed at Ethan. Ethan thoughtfully adjusted the hem of her gown. The live comments on the big screen scrolled wildly. [Ahhh, Gen is so beautiful! That pink diamond is absolutely breathtaking!] [Who’s the handsome guy next to her? Giving off rich CEO vibes, totally shippable!] [Their eyes were practically glued together, just get married already!] I stood outside the barricade, watching Ethan shield her from the blinding camera flashes. That motion was so practiced, it was as if they were the loving couple. Clutching the payment slip and the critical condition notice, I took a deep breath, then pushed past the security guard and walked, step by determined step, toward the interview area. The security guard gasped in alarm: “Hey! What do you think you’re doing? You can’t come in here!” I ignored him, rushing forward like a madwoman. Genevieve saw me first, her perfect smile freezing for an instant, but quickly returning to her innocent, vulnerable facade. “Olivia? Why are you here looking like that?” Ethan turned, saw my disheveled state, with my mother-in-law’s blood still on my clothes, and his brows furrowed tightly. He lowered his voice, furious: “What are you doing, making a scene here? Aren’t you ashamed? Did you take care of things at the hospital?” I raised my hand and slapped the critical condition notice hard against his chest. “Your mother is charred and lying in the ICU, with a $420,000 deficit waiting to be filled, and you’re asking me if I took care of things?!” Nearby journalists, always alert, quickly caught the words “intensive care unit” and pointed their cameras at us. Ethan’s face instantly changed. He grabbed my wrist, his grip so strong it almost crushed my bones. “Shut up! Don’t cause trouble here, come outside with me!” I struggled with all my might to shake off his hand, pointing at the pink diamond necklace on Genevieve’s neck, my voice sharp with anguish. “I’m causing trouble? Ethan, that $500,000 in our matured savings was waiting to save your mother’s life. Why didn’t the hospital receive a single penny?!” Genevieve’s eyes immediately reddened, and tears streamed down her face. “Olivia, don’t misunderstand Ethan. That money was just temporarily lent to me for the necklace’s deposit. Tonight’s red carpet is too important to me. If I didn’t have this necklace, the brand would blacklist me. I can write you an IOU. I’ll pay you back as soon as I get my payment.” “Pay back?” I looked at her performative display, laughing bitterly in my fury. “My mother-in-law is hanging on by a thread, kept alive by a ventilator and a dialysis machine. Are you gambling her life for your career?!” Genevieve bit her lip, swaying as if about to collapse, as if she were the one suffering some immense injustice: “I couldn’t help it! This is my only chance to make it big. If I mess up today, all my years of effort will be wasted.” Ethan immediately shielded her behind him, looking at me like an enemy, his voice incredibly cold. “Enough! Olivia! Genevieve is going through enough already, do you have to destroy her at the most important moment of her life?” I looked at this man I had shared a bed with for five years, and felt like my chest had been hollowed out, cold wind whistling through it. “*She’s* going through enough? So your mother should just be burned alive and left to die?!” Genevieve suddenly poked her head out from behind Ethan, her eyes red-rimmed, but her words were like poisoned daggers, stabbing straight into my heart. “Olivia, I know you’re always jealous of how well Ethan treats me. But Eleanor is Ethan’s biological mother, and even Ethan can weigh the pros and cons and agree to postpone treatment. You’re not her biological daughter, so why are you pretending to care more than her own son? Are you trying to use this as an excuse to get a share of the family assets?”

The surrounding journalists instantly fell silent; only the frantic clicking of camera shutters remained. I stared intently at her, shaking with rage, and then let out a bitter laugh. “You know that’s his biological mother!” Ethan avoided my furious, almost feral gaze, tugged at his tie, clearly agitated, trying to argue his way out of it. “Didn’t the doctors say? Burns just look scary, it’s not like she’s going to immediately…” He swallowed his words before he could finish, as if he himself felt guilty. I finished the sentence for him, my voice cold as ice: “…immediately die?” Genevieve’s face went pale. She quickly pulled Ethan’s arm, saying softly: “Ethan, don’t say anything more. Olivia is emotional right now, I understand how she feels. Let’s just lend her the money first.” Her pretense of understanding and generosity made my stomach churn with nausea. I pulled out my phone, dialed the bank manager directly, and put it on speaker, turning the volume to maximum. The phone rang twice before it was answered. “Ms. Olivia?” I forced my voice steady, asking coldly: “Mr. Davies, I’d like to confirm, where was the $500,000 deposit transferred this afternoon at 1 PM?” Mr. Davies hesitated. “That… it was transferred to a private account, as per Mr. Ethan’s instruction.” “I’m asking you, was it transferred to the hospital’s corporate account?” More and more celebrities and journalists gathered to watch, and the live comments on the big screen were already flipping wildly. [What’s going on? Wife publicly exposes cheating husband and his mistress?] [Using his own mother’s life savings to rent a necklace for his mistress? What kind of monster does something like that?!] [Isn’t that guy Genevieve’s sugar daddy? Turns out he’s just a leech, stealing his own mother’s life savings?] Mr. Davies was silent for two seconds, then finally delivered the fatal blow: “No, it wasn’t the hospital. The recipient was ‘Starlight Jewel Rentals.’” I stared at Ethan’s instantly ashen face and pressed him: “Ethan, what do you have to say for yourself now?” Ethan flushed with anger, cutting me off sharply: “It’s my money once it’s in my account, I can spend it however I want! I’m her only son, her money will be mine eventually!” “So you can use it to fund someone else’s vanity?!” “I said it was a loan! A temporary transfer!” Ethan was still stubbornly refusing to admit it. I stopped arguing with him and turned directly to face all the media cameras. I held up the critical condition notice, the ICU payment request, and the bank transaction records I had printed on the way, all high above my head. “To all my friends in the media, look closely! Ethan, to rent this pink diamond necklace for Genevieve, stole his mother’s life-saving $500,000! His mother is now suffering 70% burns, waiting to die in the ICU!” The moment my words fell, the scene exploded as if a heavy bomb had been dropped. “Holy crap! Trading his own mother’s life for his mistress’s red carpet walk? That’s utterly despicable!” “Can she really still wear that? Doesn’t she worry about karmic retribution?” Genevieve frantically covered the necklace on her neck, screaming at the security personnel: “Security! Get this crazy woman out of here! Turn off the live stream! Turn it off now!” I took a big step forward, firmly blocking the center of the camera’s view. “Don’t turn it off!” My eyes were red as I pointed at the vibrant red carpet beneath Genevieve’s feet. “This red carpet you’re standing on, it’s ripped from my mother-in-law’s charred flesh! That diamond you’re looking at, it’s stained red with her blood!” Ethan’s face completely twisted. He lunged like a rampaging beast, reaching out to snatch my phone and the evidence. “Bitch! I’ll kill you!” I was prepared. I sharply sidestepped him, coldly watching him miss and stumble and fall heavily to the ground. “What’s the rush? There’s still my mother-in-law’s accidental death insurance, isn’t there? Didn’t Genevieve just say, ‘Let’s just get through tonight’s red carpet first’?” Genevieve’s face instantly went ashen, and she recoiled in terror. Ethan abruptly turned, staring at her in disbelief. “You… you told her about the insurance?” Genevieve opened her mouth, tears instantly streaming: “I didn’t mean it like that, Ethan, let me explain…” Watching the repulsive scene of them blaming each other, my last shred of hope was completely shattered. I finally understood that they weren’t just after the $500,000 in savings. They were also after the $2,000,000 accidental death insurance payout if Eleanor didn’t make it! Just then, my phone vibrated wildly. It was the hospital’s dedicated number. My heart plummeted. My fingers trembled as I pressed the answer button. Dr. Miller’s voice was more anxious than ever, tinged with a deep sense of helplessness. “Olivia, the patient is in severe septic shock, her blood pressure is almost undetectable. Also, someone just contacted the hospital claiming to be her legal guardian, requesting to forgo all life-sustaining resuscitation and opt for palliative care. Do you know about this?!” All the blood in my body felt like it was drained instantly, my fingers so stiff I could barely hold the phone. “What?” Dr. Miller paused, his voice incredibly grave. “The applicant used your identity information. If we proceed, we’ll have to remove the ventilator immediately.”

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My husband, earning a paltry five thousand a month, brazenly moved his pregnant mistress into my multi-million dollar penthouse, which I’d bought outright. Not only did he try to kick me out, but he also allowed his mother to steal and use my special chemical cream, leading to her disfigurement and baldness. His sister even demanded I pack my bags and clear out for the mistress. Watching this self-righteous family of fools, I laughed, chillingly. They seemed to have forgotten that I was not only the owner of this luxury apartment but also the CEO of the company that held his fate in my hands. Since you’re so comfortable spending my money, then you’ll return it all, with interest. You can spend the rest of your lives reflecting on your mistakes in prison! After seeing my mother-in-law, Brenda, sneak into my master bedroom on the security camera countless times, I finally snapped. On the screen, she was sitting at my vanity, her eyes gleaming at a plain white ceramic jar on the table. Her rough fingers scooped out a large glob of white cream, preparing to smear it on her face. I took a deep breath and opened our SnapChat family group, sending a voice message. “Brenda, whatever you do, don’t touch the white jar on my vanity. That’s an industrial-strength depilatory and decolorizing cream our R&D department just formulated. It’s extremely corrosive and will cause severe burns if it touches your skin.” Less than thirty seconds after I sent the message, my sister-in-law, Ashley’s voice message popped up, sharp and shrill. “Sophia, who are you trying to scare? It’s just some skincare cream, right? What’s wrong with my mom using a little of your stuff? Do you really have to make up such a malicious lie to curse her with disfigurement?” Immediately after, my husband, Mark, jumped in with a text message. “Sophia, you’re being a bit much. My five-thousand-a-month salary goes entirely to support this family. You eat and drink off me, and you’re still stingy about your mom using a bit of your skincare? Don’t be so selfish!” I looked at the words on the screen and laughed, purely out of anger. Five thousand a month to support the family? This multi-million dollar penthouse in the city center was my pre-marital property, bought entirely with my own money. Mark’s measly salary wasn’t even enough to cover the monthly property management fees and utility bills. The car he drove, the designer clothes he wore – wasn’t all of it paid for with my secondary credit card? My generosity, mistaken for weakness, had only attracted a pack of greedy leeches. Fine. Since good advice was wasted on the undeserving, I wasn’t going to bother with more words. I slowly typed a line: “I’ve warned you. Consequences are on you.” Ashley instantly replied: “Pfft, cut the act! My mom just said the cream has a faint fragrance and feels cool on her face – it’s definitely high-end stuff! You can just stay at work and be jealous. When my brother gets home, he’s going to teach you a lesson, you selfish, wicked woman!” I locked my phone, took a sip of my iced Americano, and my gaze turned cold. Teach me a lesson? We’d see who was teaching whom a lesson today.

At six in the evening, I pushed open the front door. Before I could even take off my shoes, I heard a bloodcurdling scream from the living room. “Oh, my face! It hurts so much! Help me!” I slipped on my slippers and slowly walked into the living room. The scene before me was ten times more spectacular than I’d imagined. Brenda was rolling on the floor, clutching her face with both hands, letting out heart-wrenching wails. Her already sparse hair was falling out in clumps, scattered across the wool rug like weeds. More horrifying was her face; the areas where she’d applied the white cream were now swollen and almost distorted. Her entire face looked terrifying, glowing with an eerie redness, and yellowish tissue fluid was even starting to seep out. “Brenda! What happened, Brenda!” Mark and Ashley rushed out of the kitchen, gasping in shock at the sight of Brenda on the floor. “Mark! Brenda’s hair is all gone! Her face is ruined!” Ashley shrieked, her voice trembling. Mark suddenly turned, his eyes bloodshot, glaring at me like a furious beast. “Sophia! You witch! What poison did you use on my mom!” He stomped towards me, raising his palm to slap my face. I stood my ground, not even blinking, staring at him coldly. “Try to touch me.” My voice was quiet, but it carried immense pressure. “If that slap lands, I guarantee you’ll receive a court summons tomorrow, along with a divorce agreement that leaves you with nothing.” Mark’s hand froze mid-air, the muscles in his face twitching. He was clearly intimidated by my presence. “You dare threaten my brother?!” Ashley shrieked, hopping next to him. “It’s obvious you’re twisted, deliberately leaving poison on the table to harm my mom! I’m calling the police!” I sneered, walked over to the sofa, and sat down, crossing my legs. “Call the police? Go ahead. I’d love for the police to see who ignored a warning and secretly stole and used someone else’s property.” I took out my phone, pulled up the SnapChat family group chat history, and waved it in front of them. “It’s all here, in black and white, voice messages included. I clearly told you it was industrial depilatory cream, but you insisted on thinking it was high-end skincare and smeared it on your faces. So now your face is ruined, and your hair is gone – and that’s my fault?” Brenda was rolling her eyes in pain on the floor, almost passing out. “Stop talking! Call an ambulance!” Mark panicked, yelling at Ashley. The ambulance wailed as it arrived. The paramedics frowned at Brenda’s horrific state. “The burns are too severe. She needs to be taken to the emergency room for debridement immediately!” As Brenda was being carried away on a stretcher, Mark pointed at my nose, gritting his teeth as he delivered his ultimatum. “Sophia, you just wait! If anything happens to my mom, I’m not done with you! When I get back from the hospital, you’re getting out of this house!” The front door slammed shut. I looked at the empty living room, my cold smirk deepening. Make me leave this house? Mark, you must still be dreaming.

At ten o’clock that night, the front door opened again. I was sitting on the sofa, replying to company emails on my tablet. Mark walked in first, his face not showing the slightest bit of anxiety or sadness from the hospital, but rather a smugness, like a villain getting his way. Following him, besides Ashley, was a young woman in a tight-fitting dress with a slightly bulging belly. “Crystal, slow down, watch the step.” Mark carefully supported the woman, his voice dripping with tenderness. The woman called Crystal leaned coquettishly into Mark’s embrace, her critical gaze sweeping across the living room. “Oh, Mark, is this your multi-million dollar penthouse? The location is great, but the decor is too cold and hard, not cozy at all. Let’s find someone to throw out all this black, white, and gray furniture tomorrow and replace it with the French cream style I like, okay?” “Yes, yes, whatever you want. You’re carrying our family’s grandchild, so you’re the boss,” Mark said, fawning, acting like a servant to royalty. Ashley quickly joined in, eagerly carrying Crystal’s bag. “Don’t be mad, Crystal. This awful decor was chosen by that useless old hag who couldn’t give Mark a child. Once she’s gone tonight, this place is all yours!” “Hag?” I raised an eyebrow, put down my tablet, and watched the drama unfold with interest. Mark settled Crystal on the other end of the sofa, then turned to me, his face morphing into a fierce scowl. “Sophia, you still have the nerve to sit here?” He pulled a hospital diagnosis report from his pocket and slapped it onto the coffee table. “My mom has severe chemical burns on her scalp; all her hair follicles are dead. She’ll never grow hair again! Her face is ruined! I’m settling this with you today!” I glanced at the diagnosis report without even lifting an eyelid. “So? How do you want to settle it?” “So I don’t need to be polite anymore!” Mark straightened his back, righteously pointing at Crystal. “Crystal is three months pregnant with my son! You’ve been married to me for three years and couldn’t pop out a single kid, and now you’ve done this to my mom!” “This apartment will be considered compensation for my mom’s medical expenses and for Crystal’s pregnancy! Now, get out, immediately, clean out, and make space!” I looked at his shameless face, feeling only one thing: the diversity of the human species was truly astonishing. A five-thousand-a-month loser, living off me to support his whole family, finds a mistress, gets her pregnant, and then shamelessly brings her back to *my* entirely-paid-for house, even distributing *my* property as if it were his own. “Mark, why isn’t she leaving yet?” Crystal covered her nose, looking at me with disgust. “The sofa she sat on feels dirty. What if she infects my son with bad luck?” “Exactly! Get out! Don’t be an eyesore!” Ashley chimed in, hands on her hips. “Do you really think our family cares about you? My brother is a senior manager at your company now, with a bright future ahead! He can more than support all of us!” I calmly glanced at the security camera next to the TV cabinet, which was blinking red. “Alright.” I stood up and straightened the creases in my clothes. “Since you’re all so ‘loving,’ I won’t interrupt your family bliss.” Mark paused, clearly not expecting me to agree so quickly, without even an argument. “Smart move.” He suppressed the wild joy and greed in his eyes, feigning generosity. “Pack your few old clothes and leave. Don’t even think about taking anything valuable from this house!” I ignored him, walked straight into the walk-in closet, grabbed a small suitcase, and casually packed a few changes of clothes and important documents. At the entrance, I stopped and turned back to look at the two on the sofa, still being all lovey-dovey. “Mark, I hope you remember what you said tonight. You and your family had better enjoy this apartment.” With that, I opened the door and walked out without looking back. As the door closed, I clearly heard Crystal’s seductive laughter. “Mark, you’re amazing! You got rid of that old hag with just a few words! Now this big house is ours!” “Of course! In this house, I call the shots!” Mark boasted proudly. I stepped into the elevator, pulled out my phone, and a cold smirk played on my lips. The show had only just begun.

I pressed the 18th floor on the elevator. The 18th floor of this building was also my property, which I’d converted into a private studio and lounge. Mark and his family had no idea. I poured myself a glass of red wine and walked to my computer, pulling up the security camera feed from upstairs. On the monitor, the group who had taken over my apartment was already eagerly starting their new lives. Crystal was directing Ashley to throw my belongings out the door. “That vase’s color is too dark, it looks like an urn, throw it out!” “What’s with that messy painting? It’s bad luck, take it down and use it as trash lining!” Ashley, like a diligent minion, unhesitatingly swept the antique vase I’d bought at Sotheby’s for over one hundred fifty thousand dollars into the trash. “Crystal, how’s this?” Ashley asked, smiling obsequiously. “It’ll do, I guess,” Crystal said arrogantly, patting her belly. “Mark, tomorrow I want to throw a baby shower and invite all my best girlfriends to see our new home.” “No problem! Whatever my wife wants, she gets! I’ll transfer you money tomorrow, spend as much as you like!” Mark puffed out his chest, grandly. I watched his pathetic attempt to play the big shot on the screen, a cold sneer on my face, as I opened my mobile banking app. First step: I stopped all automatic payments linked to this apartment, including utilities and the hefty property management fees. Second step: I immediately reported the credit card linked to my account, which Mark held with a one million dollar limit, as lost and froze it. Initially, I had ignored the board’s opposition and secretly arranged a figurehead managerial position for him at a branch company. Even that credit card was given to him to save face and maintain his ridiculous ego when he was out. I never imagined he’d mistake my charity for his own capability. Using my money to support another woman, and trying to seize my apartment? Pure fantasy. After doing all this, I sent a message to Mr. Clark, my company’s CFO. “First thing tomorrow, initiate a comprehensive financial audit of Mark’s department at the branch company. Investigate all accounts he handled; not a single cent should be missed.” Mr. Clark replied instantly: “Received, Ms. Sophia.” I swirled the red wine in my glass, watching the scumbag and mistress embracing and sleeping on the monitor, my eyes chillingly cold. Enjoy your last hurrah.

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I paid $2,500 for a live-in housekeeper to look after my cat and house while I was away for eighteen days. The night I returned, I stood at my front door, dragging two suitcases. I typed the password three times. The screen flashed red: *Incorrect password.* I thought my brain was fried from a dozen hours on the plane. I glanced down at my phone memo. No, it was right. 0529. That was the temporary password I’d set for Maggie, the housekeeper, before I left. I typed it again. Still incorrect. Suddenly, a man’s voice came from inside: “Who is it? Annoying! Stop pressing the button, my kid’s sleeping.” I froze. This was clearly my home. Standing at my own front door, I was being told off by a stranger inside. I rang the doorbell. After about ten seconds, the door opened a crack. A man in his thirties peered out, his hair messy, wearing the grey slippers I kept by the door. He looked me up and down. “Who are you looking for?” I stared at the slippers on his feet. “I think that’s my question.” The man frowned. “Who are *you*?” “I’m the owner of this apartment.” His expression stiffened. He turned and yelled into the house, “Mom! The landlord’s back!” Landlord? My blood boiled. The door swung fully open. I saw a little boy sitting in the living room, watching cartoons on my tablet. Takeout boxes were scattered on the table, and some children’s clothes were tossed on the sofa. The balcony door was half-open, and a mix of smoke and cooking smells wafted out. On my white carpet, there was a dark brown food stain. In the kitchen, a woman with permed hair emerged, holding a pot. She paused when she saw me. The enamel pot in her hand was one I’d paid over $450 for. Before I could speak, the master bedroom door opened. Maggie walked out. She was wearing my silk robe. I’d washed that robe and stored it deep inside my closet before leaving. “Ms. Vance, what are you doing back today?” Her tone was so natural, as if she were asking why I was home early from work. I looked at her. “It’s my own home, can’t I come back?” Maggie’s face looked a little awkward, but she quickly smiled. “That’s not what I meant. Didn’t you say you’d be back on the second?” “I changed my flight, came back two days early.” I pointed at the people in the living room. “Who are they?” Before Maggie could speak, the man said, “I’m her son.” The woman from the kitchen chimed in, “I’m her daughter-in-law.” The little boy on the sofa held up the tablet. “Grandma, I want yogurt!” I let out a laugh. “So I paid $2,500 for a housekeeper, went on vacation, and came back to find your whole family living in my house?” Maggie’s face darkened. “Ms. Vance, that’s a bit much. An old woman like me, living in a big house like this, gets scared. So I had my family come keep me company. What’s wrong with that?” “Keep you company?” I stepped further inside. Carter blocked the doorway. “Hey, hold on, don’t come in. The kid just fell asleep.” I stared at him. “Move.” He didn’t budge. Maggie quickly intervened, “Carter, don’t argue with Eleanor. Ms. Vance, everyone’s had a long day. Let’s talk tomorrow.” “I’ll talk now.” I put my suitcases by the door, pulled out my phone, and opened a photo of the contract. “My contract with the domestic services agency is for eighteen days of live-in service, costing $2,500. The contract clearly states that the service provider is you, Maggie, alone. You’re to stay in the housekeeper’s room, no outsiders are allowed to stay overnight, the master bedroom is off-limits, and you are not to touch the owner’s personal belongings.” I looked up at the robe she was wearing. “Now, explain yourself.” Maggie’s face fell. She tugged the robe’s tie tighter. “My clothes were still wet from washing. What’s wrong with borrowing one of yours? It’s not like I ruined it.” Mia, her daughter-in-law, put the pot on the stove. “Ms. Vance, right? Your house is just sitting empty anyway. What’s the harm in us staying for a few days? Is it going to collapse?” I looked at her. “You’re using my kitchen, sleeping in my room, wearing my clothes, and now you’re asking me, ‘a few days’?” Mia rolled her eyes. “Wealthy people are always so particular.” Carter leaned against the shoe rack, his tone sharp. “My mom’s been here, working her butt off taking care of your house and cat. And you come back and give us a hard time? What’s the deal?” That’s when I remembered my cat. “Where’s my cat?” Maggie’s eyes darted away. “On the balcony.” I pushed past Carter and walked to the balcony. He reached out to stop me. “What are you doing?” “Seeing my cat.” In the corner of the balcony, my cat was curled up in its bed, its fur matted. The water bowl was empty. The litter box was overflowing. I crouched down and called to it. It looked up at me, its voice hoarse, barely a meow. I couldn’t hold back my fury any longer! “Maggie.” I turned to her. “Those photos you sent me every day, where did they come from?” She stammered. “I took them.” “The water bowl’s empty, the litter box is like this, and you tell me you’ve been taking care of it every day?” Maggie frowned. “Cats are sensitive animals; I’m not a vet!” I stood up. “All of you, get out of my house. Now.” Carter scoffed. “Where are we supposed to go at this hour? Besides, my mom’s contract isn’t even over yet.” I looked at him. “The contract is for her to work, not for me to hand my house over to your family.” Maggie suddenly sat on the sofa, slapping her thigh. “Oh, these young women today, they turn on you in an instant! Before she left, it was all sweet talk, ‘just leave the house to me, take whatever you need.’ Now she’s back and kicking us out.” She pulled out her phone. “I have a voice message!” I watched her coldly. She played the voice message. It was from the day I left. “Maggie, I really appreciate you taking care of things around the house for this period. Cat food is in the cabinet, you can eat the groceries in the fridge, and let me know if you need anything.” Maggie held up the phone. “Listen, she herself said to leave the house to me.” I looked at her face. In that instant, I knew. This person wasn’t confused. She knew exactly what she was doing.

I called Mr. Anderson at the agency. When he answered, I only said one thing: “The housekeeper you sent brought her whole family to live in my house.” Mr. Anderson was silent for two seconds. “Ms. Vance, please don’t get agitated. I’ll be right there.” I also called property management. Twenty minutes later, Mr. Brown from property management arrived with two security guards. Ten minutes after that, Mr. Anderson arrived. As soon as he walked in, he saw the group of people in the living room and clearly paused. But he quickly put on a smile. “Ms. Vance, there must be some misunderstanding here.” I pointed at the slippers on Carter’s feet. “A misunderstanding so deep he’s wearing my slippers?” Then I pointed to the master bedroom. “A misunderstanding so deep they’re sleeping in my bed?” Then I pointed to the balcony. “A misunderstanding so deep my cat’s in this condition?” Mr. Anderson’s face stiffened a bit. Maggie immediately stood up. “Mr. Anderson, you have to speak fairly for me. I was scared living here alone, so I asked my family to come see me. What’s the problem?” Mr. Anderson nodded. “Maggie is quite elderly, and working alone in an unfamiliar environment can be stressful.” I looked at him. “Your contract says psychological stress allows bringing the whole family?” Mr. Anderson cleared his throat. “A contract is a contract, but we need a little compassion in real-world situations, don’t we?” “Compassion?” I flipped to the sixth clause of the contract and shoved the screen in front of his eyes. “The service provider is prohibited from bringing any unauthorized persons into the owner’s residence. Upon a single violation, the owner reserves the right to immediately terminate the contract and demand compensation for damages from the service provider.” Mr. Anderson glanced at it, then smiled. “Ms. Vance, don’t be so rigid about this. The most important thing now is to resolve the issue.” I asked, “How do we resolve it?” He said, “It’s really too late tonight. Let Maggie’s family stay one night, and I’ll arrange for them to move out tomorrow.” I laughed, exasperated. “Now I’m back in my own home, and I have to give up a night for them?” Carter chimed in from the side, “If you want to stay, just stay. There are plenty of rooms.” I looked at him. “Where will you sleep?” “The master bedroom.” “Then where will *I* sleep?” Carter shrugged. “The guest room works too.” I looked at Mr. Anderson. “Did you hear that?” Mr. Anderson quickly said, “Carter, say less.” Maggie also said, “Ms. Vance, what difference does it make where you sleep alone? Our family has a child; we can’t sleep on the floor.” I asked her, “Did you ask me when you were living in my master bedroom?” She was stubborn. “I kept it spotless for you.” I walked to the master bedroom doorway. Their bedding was on the bed, and Maggie’s reading glasses were next to the pillow. There was a half-empty coffee mug on the nightstand, with a dried coffee ring. My closet door was open. A row of my clothes was rummaged through. My pajamas, robe, and scarves had all been moved. On the vanity, my face cream was all dug out, and two of my lipsticks were missing. I turned to Mia. Her eyes flickered. “Why are you looking at me?” “Who used my cosmetics?” Mia crossed her arms. “You have so many things; you suspect people just because one or two are missing? Do you have proof?” Just then, the little boy ran over, holding my tablet. “Mommy, this is out of battery!” I reached out and took the tablet back. There was a new crack on the edge of the screen. I took a deep breath. A voice in my head kept reminding me: *Don’t get physical, don’t get yourself into trouble.* I turned to Mr. Brown from property management. “Property management is now witnessing my demand for these unauthorized persons to leave immediately.” Mr. Brown looked at Maggie, then at me, his expression troubled. “Ms. Vance, in principle, this is your property, and outsiders certainly shouldn’t be staying. But you invited the housekeeper in yourself, and as for how her family entered, it’s difficult for us at property management to enforce removal.” “If you can’t enforce it, I’ll call the police.” At that, Carter immediately raised his voice. “Call the police then! My mom’s working for you, who are you trying to scare?” Maggie began to cry. “I’ve been slaving away for her here, and in less than twenty days, the first thing she does when she comes back is call the police to kick me out. Mr. Anderson, look at this, who would dare take this job after this?” I said, “I hired you for eighteen days; today is the sixteenth. You charge over a hundred dollars a day. Did you take care of the cat? Did you clean? You let your whole family move in, and now you’re turning it around on me?” Mr. Anderson quickly intervened. “Ms. Vance, don’t be so absolute. The lady didn’t mean any harm, she’s just having a bit of a tough time right now.” “What kind of tough time?” Carter sneered. “Our house is being renovated, so we have nowhere to stay temporarily. Your place is empty, and my mom works here. What’s wrong with staying for a few days?” I looked at him. “So you intended to move in from the start.” Carter realized he’d let something slip and shut his mouth. Mia, however, wasn’t afraid. “We didn’t stay for free; my mom’s working for you.” I picked up my phone and dialed 911. Mr. Anderson’s face finally changed. “Ms. Vance, don’t involve the police; there’s no need.” I looked at him. “Now there is.”

Two police officers arrived, one in his forties and a younger one. I showed them the contract, payment records, and SnapChat messages. I also explained the situation in the house. The older officer, Officer Miller, listened, then looked at Maggie. “Are you the domestic services worker?” Maggie wiped her tears. “Yes, I’m here to work. Before she left, she told me to leave the house to me, so I thought I’d let my son come stay for a couple of days. I really didn’t mean anything else.” Officer Miller asked, “How many days has your family been staying?” Maggie didn’t speak. Carter said, “Not many days.” I interjected, “The smart lock records show they arrived the evening of the second day. Today is the sixteenth day.” Carter glared at me. “You even check that?” I said, “It’s my own home’s lock record, why wouldn’t I check?” Officer Miller looked at Carter. “The owner doesn’t agree, so you need to leave.” Carter said, “It’s too late now.” Officer Miller checked his watch. “It’s 9:40 PM, that’s not late.” Mia, holding her child, began to cry. “The child has kindergarten tomorrow; where are you going to make us go?” I bit my tongue, but couldn’t help saying, “Is the kindergarten operating *from* my master bedroom?” Mia’s face flushed red. “How can you be so mean-spirited?” Maggie suddenly clutched her chest. “I’m dizzy.” Mr. Anderson quickly supported her. “Ma’am, ma’am, are you okay?” Maggie slumped onto the sofa, her voice weak. “I have high blood pressure; I can’t handle stress.” Watching her act, I felt a chill in my heart. This wasn’t her first performance. She was too practiced. Officer Miller frowned. “If you’re not feeling well, call 911.” Maggie immediately waved her hand. “No, no, I’ll be fine after resting a bit.” Mr. Anderson said to me, “Ms. Vance, given the lady’s condition, moving out tonight is definitely unrealistic. Tomorrow morning, by 10 AM, I’ll personally come supervise their departure.” I asked Officer Miller, “Can that be written down?” Officer Miller nodded. “We can write up an incident report. The family must vacate by 10 AM tomorrow, the housekeeping service will be terminated, and any outstanding fees or damages can be handled through your contract or through legal action.” Carter muttered under his breath, “Such a hassle.” Officer Miller looked at him. “Care to repeat that?” Carter fell silent. After the incident report was written, Maggie reluctantly gave me a new password. I stood at the door and typed it in. The door opened. I asked, “Why did you change the password?” Maggie’s eyes darted away. “The kid was messing with it and locked us out, so my daughter-in-law helped set a new one.” I looked at Mia. She was looking down at her phone, pretending not to hear. I went inside and put the cat into its carrier first. Maggie grew anxious. “If you take the cat, how am I supposed to provide service?” I turned back to her. “You still remember ‘service’?” Her face went pale. I then went to the study to get my documents and laptop. There were new scratches on the study door handle. I pulled open the drawer; my passport was still there, and so was my property deed. The lock on the black storage cabinet hadn’t been touched. Inside were several lenses from the studio, two wristwatches, and a handbag. These were equipment and samples from photography projects Jason and I worked on. They had invoices and serial numbers, and I usually kept them insured in my study. I had specifically locked the cabinet before leaving the country. I touched the lock, feeling a little relieved. But the two SnapChat cameras in the living room were both unplugged. I asked Maggie, “Who unplugged the cameras?” She said, “The red light kept flashing; it was creepy.” “The contract states there’s surveillance in the living room and study, which are common areas.” She retorted, righteous, “An old woman like me, being watched by you here, who could stand it?” I didn’t bother to argue further. But I knew there was another camera, disguised as a smoke detector, on top of the study cabinet. It had been installed after a pipe leak the year before, connected to an independent power source, and its angle only covered the study doorway and the storage cabinet. It was also mentioned in the contract appendix. They probably hadn’t noticed. I carried the cat carrier and dragged my suitcases out. Maggie called out from behind me, “Ms. Vance, we’ll definitely be gone by ten tomorrow. Don’t worry.” I didn’t look back. I checked into a hotel near the apartment complex entrance. At the vet clinic, the doctor took one look at my cat and said it was dehydrated and had mild gastroenteritis. “Its drinking and bathroom habits haven’t been normal lately, have they?” I nodded. The doctor asked, “Who was taking care of it?” I said, “Someone I paid.” The doctor sighed. “We need to start an IV.” I sat in the hospital corridor, watching my cat curled up in its cage. I paid $2,500 for peace of mind. What I got instead was a house full of strangers.

The next day, at 9:50 AM, I arrived at my front door. Mr. Brown from property management was also there. Mr. Anderson wasn’t. I called him. He answered after a long pause. “Ms. Vance, I have an urgent meeting right now. You talk to Maggie first; I’ll be there soon.” I didn’t waste words; I hung up. At exactly 10 AM, I typed the new password Maggie had given me last night. Incorrect. I typed it again. Still incorrect. Mr. Brown frowned. “Changed again?” I called Maggie. No answer. I called Carter. He answered. His voice was lazy. “What do you want?” “Open the door.” “My mom’s not feeling well; we can’t move today.” “The police incident report last night stated you must vacate by 10 AM.” “Then go find the police.” I said, “Open the door.” Carter scoffed. “Ms. Vance, don’t be so aggressive. We can move, but you need to pay my mom’s fees.” “I’ve already paid the agency in full.” “That’s between you and the company. My mom’s been taking care of your house these past few days, and our family helped out too. Care fees, moving fees, lost wages — it adds up to fifteen hundred.” I almost laughed out loud. “You lived in my house, and now you want moving fees from me?” Carter said, “You bought such a big house, what’s a little more money?” I glanced at Mr. Brown. Mr. Brown looked down at the ground, pretending not to hear. I said into the phone, “I’m giving you ten minutes. If you don’t open the door, I’ll call the police again.” Carter’s voice turned cold. “Calling the police won’t help. A service dispute? The police aren’t going to physically remove us!” He hung up after that. I stood at the door, my palms clammy. Mr. Anderson then sent me a SnapChat message: “Ms. Vance, Maggie really isn’t feeling well; please be understanding. They won’t occupy the house; they’ll move as soon as she feels better.” I replied: “If you don’t move by 12 PM today, I’m pursuing legal action.” He replied after a long pause: “You’ll only make things worse.” I stared at that sentence for a few seconds. My mind suddenly felt very calm. Worse? The locks have been changed, the password’s been reset. How much worse can it get? At noon, they hadn’t moved. At 3 PM, I went up again with property management. I could hear the TV and a child laughing inside. I rang the doorbell. No one answered. I knocked on the door. Carter yelled from inside, “Stop knocking! The kid’s taking his nap!” I said, “Open the door.” The door opened a crack, with the security chain still on. Carter showed half his face. “I told you, we can’t move today.” I asked, “Did you touch any of my things?” He scoffed. “Who cares about your junk?” I said, “If anything is missing from the study cabinet, I will report it to the police.” His face changed slightly, then quickly returned to normal. “Who are you trying to scare?” The door slammed shut. I didn’t leave. I took the fire escape down one floor, then circled back to the emergency stairs. The fire door on the twenty-third floor didn’t muffle sound well. They probably thought I had left, as the door wasn’t tightly shut. Fragments of their conversation drifted out. Mia was saying, “I’ve listed those bags online. Someone’s asking if they can see them in person.” Carter said, “Don’t list the bags yet; they’re too conspicuous. Those two watches in the study cabinet are valuable, easy to turn into cash.” Maggie lowered her voice. “She looked at that cabinet yesterday; don’t mess with it.” Carter was impatient. “She’s just a woman, what can she do? A couple of threats and she’ll back down.” Mr. Anderson’s voice was also there. “Don’t make it too obvious. If she complains, I can stall her. Just say the housekeeping service isn’t finished and there’s a dispute over the fees.” Maggie said, “She even said she’d call the police. So what? I’m sixty. If I just lie down on the ground, who would dare touch me?” Mia laughed. “Mom, you were really good yesterday.” Everyone laughed. Carter added, “Let’s stay until the end of the month. She has money for a hotel; she’s the one who’ll be desperate.” Mr. Anderson reminded them, “If you really sell the stuff, find someone you know. Don’t leave any records.” Mia said, “Don’t worry, I’ll use a burner account.” I stood behind the fire door, listening, my fingertips numb. So they never intended to leave from the start. “Not feeling well,” “the child has nowhere to go”—all just excuses. I recorded their conversation on my phone until their laughter faded. My chest felt like a burning iron block. I endured it all night, gave them chances, called property management, involved the police, reasoned with the contract. They thought I was easy to bully. They said I was just a woman. They said I was the one who was desperate. I turned and went downstairs, walking to the flower beds in the complex, and called Jason. “Jason, I need a favor.” “Name it.” “Send me all the purchase and sales contracts, invoices, serial numbers, and insurance policies for the studio’s equipment and samples. Also, get your lawyer friend to review the evidence with me tonight.” Jason paused. “Is something wrong?” I looked up at the light on the twenty-third floor and said softly, “Someone moved into my home. I’m going to make them regret it bitterly.” Jason cursed. I said, “Don’t rush.” “Since they think I’m weak, I’ll let them show their true colors.”

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When I was eighteen, Leo and I had our first time in a shabby motel room. Back then, he was driven by a wild, untamed passion, leaving me so swept away that I lost all sense of direction in the rush of first love. But when I was twenty-five, he sent me into the abortion clinic himself, all because of a Truth or Dare game with his female friend, Eve. “I’m sorry, Rachel. I was playing Truth or Dare with Eve last night, and I lost the baby as a forfeit.” “A baby can be conceived again, but a bet between guys can’t be reneged on. Just bear with it for a bit, okay?” His words made me tremble with horror: “You’d actually kill our baby for another woman? What kind of spell has she cast on you?” Leo’s face darkened, angered by my outburst. “You have the nerve to bring up Eve? Do you have any shame? Who in this world is more despicable than you?” “You’re like a slut, climbing into my bed willingly. You frequented that cheap motel more often than anyone else. What right do you, a woman of insatiable desire, have to criticize her!” That sentence shattered the last bit of my dignity. I gave up all resistance and walked into the operating room. Twenty-five-year-old Leo, I don’t love you anymore…

“Rachel.” Just as I was about to enter the operating room, Leo suddenly called out to me. He hung his head, his voice a little hoarse: “I didn’t mean to hit a nerve. I just couldn’t stand you targeting Eve. My words just slipped out.” As he draped a coat over me, Leo earnestly promised: “I’m a big businessman. If I lose my word, who will dare to work with me in the future? I don’t want to lose this baby either, but I can’t help it.” “I promise you, we’ll have another baby very soon.” Another baby? This was already my third child with Leo. To get pregnant with it, I’d had countless fertility shots; the dense needle marks on my waist hadn’t faded yet. The doctor had warned me many times that this baby might be the last one I could ever conceive. How could there be another? I opened my mouth, but my throat felt like it was blocked by a razor blade. It hurt too much to utter a single word. Leo’s phone rang. On the other end, Eve impatiently urged: “Getting an abortion is taking forever. You’re not trying to back out, are you?” “Rachel’s not a newbie, why’s she being so dramatic? Hurry up and finish the dare, all of us guys are waiting for you to drink!” Eager to keep his appointment, Leo’s last shred of patience with me vanished. He perfunctorily kissed the back of my hand: “I have a business dinner, so I can’t stay for your surgery.” “Anyway, it’s not your first time, you know the drill. You got this, I’m sure you’ll be fine on your own.” Leo practically flew out the door, quickly slipping away. I clutched my stomach, swaying as I walked into the abortion room. The doctor pushed up her glasses, her gaze a mix of pity and contempt. “Your uterine wall is paper-thin. If you have another abortion, you really won’t be able to get pregnant again.” “If you don’t respect yourself, why should anyone else respect you?” My face flushed, too ashamed to meet the doctor’s eyes. Digging my nails into my palms, I forced myself to calmly tell the doctor: “Go ahead, I’ll take full responsibility for all consequences.” After signing the waiver, I stripped naked and was pushed into the operating room, utterly stripped of my dignity. A thick, long needle pierced my body without warning. The pain made me break out in a cold sweat, and I couldn’t help but let out a soft whimper. Faintly, I heard the nurse’s dissatisfied grumbling: “This is her third time. Why act so fragile? Where was all this delicacy when she was having fun?” My consciousness began to fade. Along with the nurse’s voice, I seemed to see three adorable babies, holding hands, vanishing completely from my life… When I woke up, the surgery was over. No surprises, no miracles. This time, I had completely lost my ability to conceive. I numbly stuffed the surgical report into my bag, not a trace of sadness on my face. This heart, which had beaten countless times for Leo, and ached countless times, was finally dead. “Leo, we—” Back home, I pushed open the door. Before I could even suggest divorce, I was choked by a strong smell of smoke. I coughed violently, tears streaming down my face. Inside, a group of people were playing Truth or Dare. Leo had promised me he’d never bring his drinking parties home.

“Oh, your belly’s flat! Leo, you’re a real man, you honored the bet and actually got rid of your own child!” Eve excitedly touched my stomach, dramatically giving Leo a thumbs-up. Leo glanced at Eve triumphantly: “A bet’s a bet. When have I ever cheated you?” To ease the awkward atmosphere, one of Leo’s friends pulled me down to sit, trying to smooth things over: “Rachel, you’re such a good sport!” “Rachel, it’s rare for us to get together with you. Why don’t you join us today?” Leo frowned, instinctively moving to decline the invitation for me, but I cut him off coldly: “Sure, I’ll play.” I really wanted to see what kind of thrilling game would make Leo abandon his own flesh and blood. My luck was terrible; Eve and I played rock-paper-scissors multiple times, and I lost every round. Leo, fearing Eve would propose an overly extreme dare, volunteered to drink three penalty shots in my place. He gulped down shot after shot, stiffening his neck as he swallowed: “Rachel just had a miscarriage, I’ll drink for her.” Amidst chants of ‘Leo really cares for Rachel,’ Eve’s face grew increasingly sour. Finally, after I lost another round of rock-paper-scissors, Eve impatiently cursed: “What’s the damn point if you keep drinking for her? Women are just so slow. How many times have I said no women at our guys’ gatherings!” Leo, tipsy, tried to appease Eve with a smile, but I spoke first: “I choose truth.” Eve’s eyes lit up, her complaints vanishing instantly, replaced by a glint of excitement. She sneered, raising an eyebrow at me, both contemptuous and playfully venomous: “Alright, then I’ll start asking.” “Rachel’s had three abortions, so she must have been examined by plenty of male doctors. Why don’t you tell us guys which male doctor had the ‘best bedside manner’ and made you ‘most comfortable’? Hahahaha!” I clutched the wine glass tightly, my heart seizing up. Those two previous children were a lifelong pain, a secret between Leo and me. How did Eve know? “Tsk, no wonder Leo doesn’t want to sleep with you. You’ve been ‘inspected down there’ by a bunch of men. What normal man wouldn’t find that dirty? Even I, a woman, find it disgusting.” Eve’s grating laughter was like a sharp knife, stabbing my heart over and over. I could no longer suppress my anger and grief. I picked up the wine glass and splashed it on Eve’s face. It wasn’t enough to vent my fury, so I added a slap: “It definitely feels best when I’m slapping you.” Eve, mortified and furious, covered her face, her eyes wide as she glared at me. The sudden outburst stunned everyone in the room. Realizing what had happened, Leo furiously grabbed the back of my neck. *Smack! Smack! Smack!* He slapped me repeatedly, left and right. “Rachel, are you f**king crazy? It’s just a game, what right do you have to lay a hand on Eve!” “If you can’t take a joke, then don’t play! Besides, Eve was just telling the truth…”

Leo’s eyes were bloodshot, and he reeked of alcohol. He went over to Eve, carefully blowing on her swollen half-face, his eyes filled with undisguised tenderness. As if to spite me, Leo hooked an arm around Eve’s shoulders and said, loud enough for everyone to hear: “Eve, you wanted to know which doctor Rachel enjoyed the most, right?” “I’ll tell you. The answer is the one today.” “Because – Rachel has only had one proper abortion. The first two children she aborted herself!” The room erupted in a collective gasp. Eve gasped, covering her mouth, her grin so wide it almost reached her ears: “You’re not kidding me, are you? Rachel is crazy, she actually aborted herself!” “You’re so rich, why would she abort herself? Is she a psychopath, or just seeking thrills? She really knows how to play!” Eyes fell on me, some with shock, some with contempt. “She’s had three abortions, her uterus must be completely ruined. Do you think Rachel can still have kids?” “If she can’t, there’s always our Eve! Leo can have kids with Eve. Eve’s probably still a virgin. What can that slut compare to?” Eve bounced over to the man who spoke, playfully punching him twice: “Oh, stop it! Leo and I are just buddies, okay? No kids!” “But you’re right about one thing, I am pure…” Eve rarely showed such shyness. Leo ruffled her hair, smiling dotingly, and everyone else burst into laughter. Looking at their disgusting, laughing faces, I nearly threw up. Tears touched my swollen skin, sending waves of sharp, stinging pain through me. I shook my head frantically, trying to dislodge those painful memories. But memories, like a tidal wave, engulfed me. When I was eighteen, I got into college. The orphanage couldn’t pay my tuition, so I had to work at a auto repair shop. But the meager wages couldn’t cover my tuition and living expenses, and I started thinking about dropping out. Leo, who was also an apprentice at the repair shop, cornered me against a wall, his eyes red as he promised: “Keep studying, I’ll support you.” From then on, Leo repaired cars during the day, hauled bricks at night, and did manual labor late into the night. In the prime of his youth, he almost burned himself out for me. Every time we met, besides giving me money, he only told me to study hard, never once complaining. When he heard I was being bullied by classmates, Leo rushed into the school with a knife and stabbed himself three times in front of everyone, blood splattering everywhere. He said: “Anyone who dares to bully Rachel again, this is what happens. I’d even stab myself, what else wouldn’t I dare to do?” From then on, even the flies in the school avoided me. I grew up in an orphanage, starved for love since childhood. Meeting a man like that, it was truly hard not to fall in love. To cling to that bit of warmth, I was willing to give everything. In that thirty-dollar rundown motel, I confessed my feelings to Leo, clinging to him and trying again and again. Later, that became our regular spot. He was like a wild wolf, always fiercely breaking through the cheap condoms. Because of that, I got pregnant twice. Without money for a proper hospital, I had to find a way to abort myself. I blindly swallowed expired abortion pills, then deliberately tumbled down the stairs. Once wasn’t enough, so twice, then three times. This method was incredibly cruel to both me and the baby. Leo hated himself for it. To avoid harming me again, he even underwent a vasectomy at a black market clinic, almost losing his ability to conceive altogether. He said he owed me for life. He would work twice as hard, pushing himself to the limit. He would make me happier than anyone else, ensuring I’d never live through such hardship again. Life did get better, but Leo’s heart changed. The lifelong pain I dared not touch had now become his talking point. As long as it made Eve smile, he didn’t mind stabbing me again and again in my most vulnerable spot. I furiously grabbed a wine bottle and smashed it over Leo’s head: “Game over.” “Get out, all of you, get out!” Leo’s friends tactfully dispersed, and Eve was reluctantly pulled away.

Leo was knocked unconscious by my blow and didn’t wake up until noon the next day. He clutched his head in pain, dimly recalling what happened yesterday. Leo took my hand and hit his own face with it: “Honey, drunks don’t know what they’re doing.” “Slap me back, I promise I won’t fight back. As for the abortion thing… I’ll go clarify it for you right away. With me around, let’s see whose dead mouth dares to spread rumors.” Looking at Leo’s shameless demeanor, I calmly said: “Let’s get a divorce.” Leo smiled helplessly, his pinky finger lightly hooking my strands of hair. He thought I was just throwing a tantrum, wanting to be intimate with me and coax me into forgiving him, just like before. His phone rang. Leo glanced at the caller ID, quickly pulled his hand away, and answered. “Eve, what’s wrong?” “What else? I lost a dare. I tell you, I’m pretty unlucky this time, the punishment is to get a room with one of the guys, and we have to go all the way!” “They’re all laughing, saying I wouldn’t dare, but you know me, I always honor a bet! I choose you to get the room with.” Leo’s breathing hitched. He looked up, observing my expression, then quickly refused: “Don’t be reckless, you idiot. Just forfeit.” “You don’t want to? Humph, then I’ll find someone else~” Leo panicked, immediately agreeing without thinking: “Eve, I dare you! Send me the hotel location, I’ll be right there.” Leo anxiously slipped on his shoes, not even bothering to look at me: “Eve is naive and overly competitive. If I don’t go, she’ll definitely be taken advantage of by some other guy.” “Don’t worry, honey, I’ll go talk some sense into her, I’ll definitely convince her not to do it!” I followed Leo’s car, tailing him all the way to the hotel. Posing as his wife, I got a room key, then burst in, phone in hand. *Click! Click!* I captured both of them, faces flushed and stark naked. When she saw me taking pictures, Eve shrieked: “Rachel, delete those photos right now! Leo and I were just doing a Truth or Dare punishment. Can’t you be less petty?!” Leo, his face red, pulled the blanket to cover his lower body, stammering an explanation to me: “Eve is too stubborn, she insisted on completing the dare. I couldn’t help it…” “But don’t worry, I only see her as a buddy. This is a one-time thing, absolutely no next time.” “Listen, Rachel, delete the photos. Eve is still a girl, how will she ever get married if these get out?” I couldn’t help but laugh. Caught red-handed in bed, and he’s still calling them ‘good buddies.’ I calmly tucked my phone into my pocket. Seeing I was unmoved, Leo’s face gradually darkened. He pulled out his phone and started playing a blurry video. It was the video of me falling down the stairs to abort myself when I was eighteen. Leo had secretly kept this video on his phone, captioned ‘Lifelong Regret.’ Whenever he got too tired from working hard, he’d watch it once to motivate himself. Watching it always gave him the drive to keep going. Now, that former regret had become a bargaining chip to threaten me. “Rachel, if you dare to spread those photos, I’ll post this video online! Everyone will see your ugly state of secretly getting an abortion, how you killed your own flesh and blood!” Through my tears, I smiled calmly: “Don’t worry, I won’t spread it.” “I’m not here to fight the other woman, nor am I here to break up you two loving ‘besties’.” “I just want to keep some evidence. In court, it might help with our asset division.” With that, I turned and walked away without a trace of hesitation. In the empty, themed suite, Eve pouted, rolling her eyes as she asked: “Hey, is she really serious this time?” Leo instinctively shook his head: “No way! She’s an orphan, no family, no home. Where could she go without me?” “I’ll contact the hospital right away to arrange the next IVF. Rachel loves children so much, she’ll calm down immediately.” Leo called the hospital, but the nurse on the other end responded with confusion: “Don’t you know? After the last abortion surgery, Rachel completely lost her ability to conceive.”

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The night my wife was on a business trip, her male assistant sent me a photo. In the picture, they were naked, wrapped in each other’s arms, sleeping soundly. He even provocatively added a line: “Mr. Carter, your wife is mine now.” I didn’t reply. I opened the company SnapChat group, two hundred and thirty-six people online. I posted their intimate photo. “Congratulations to our assistant, Leon Miller. Effective immediately, he will also serve as CEO’s husband. Salary and benefits negotiable.” Then I turned off my phone and went to sleep. The next day, when I turned it back on, I had 136 missed calls. My wife was crying and cursing in her voicemails. But the only thing I wanted to say was: You picked him. You deal with him. My phone vibrated. I swiped to unlock it. Someone had sent me a picture. Kelly, my wife, and a man. They were naked, tangled together on white hotel sheets. Her cheeks were flushed in sleep, a faint smile on her lips. The man leaned in, kissed her forehead, and held up his phone for a selfie. Only half of his face was visible, his eyes full of triumph. I recognized him: Leon Miller, Kelly’s assistant. Below the photo, a line of text followed. “Mr. Carter, your wife’s quite good in bed. She’s mine now.” I stared at that line for a long time. My finger hovered over the screen. No reply. No anger. My heart felt like it was gripped by an icy hand, then that hand released, leaving only a hollow numbness. I exited the chat and opened another app, finding a group chat. “Carter Tech Group (236).” Two hundred and thirty-six people. Everyone from top management to junior staff, except the cleaning crew, was in it. I posted the intimate photo Leon had sent me in that group. Then, in the input box, I typed out each word, one by one. “Congratulations to Mr. Leon Miller, our company’s CEO assistant. Due to outstanding performance, he will also be taking on the role of CEO’s husband, effective immediately. Salary and benefits are negotiable. Please be informed.” Send. I scrolled to the group member list and found Kelly’s profile picture. It was a photo of us on the beach, her smiling brightly. I tapped on her picture, selected, and removed her from the group. Then I found Leon Miller. Removed from group. After doing all that, the world went quiet. I switched my phone to airplane mode. And tossed it onto the nightstand. The room was dark, curtains tightly drawn. This was our master bedroom. In our three years of marriage, Kelly had spent less than three months sleeping here, total. She said she was busy. The company was in its growth phase; she had to travel, attend events, hold meetings. She’d say, “Mason, you understand me.” I used to. I handed her the company I had founded, along with the “CEO” title. I told her, “Go chase your dreams. I’ll hold down the fort.” Now, her dream was caught, and the home was gone. Good riddance. I lay down and closed my eyes. For the first time in three years, I fell asleep so quickly.

Turning my phone back on was like detonating a bomb. The screen was plastered with layers of red notification badges. Texts, 99+. Missed calls, 136. Half from Kelly. Half from an unknown number, likely Leon Miller. A few more from Kelly’s parents. I opened my voicemail. The latest one, from Kelly, a minute ago. “Mason! You lunatic! You’ve ruined me! Do you have any idea what you’ve done?!” Her voice was sharp, hoarse, and tearful, like a rusty saw grating wood. “You sent the photo? In the company group chat?! Are you out of your mind?! What about the company’s stock price?! How am I supposed to face anyone?!” “You’re just a useless freeloader who hides at home! What else can you do besides these low-down tricks?!” “I’m telling you, you retract that message right now! You tell everyone it’s a Photoshopped picture! That you were drunk and joking! Do you hear me?!” “If you don’t do as I say, I’ll make sure you don’t get a single penny! You just wait!” The voicemail ended. I deleted it expressionlessly. Next. Still her. “Honey… Honey, I’m sorry… I’m really, truly sorry… Please, just give me another chance, okay…?” Her voice had done a complete 180, becoming soft, pitiful, punctuated by sobs. “He seduced me… He drugged me… I wasn’t willing… You’re the only one I love, Mason…” “Have you forgotten about us? Our love, our past…?” “Please, come home, okay? Let’s talk face to face, resolve this, don’t let outsiders laugh at us…” “Where are you now? Turn your phone on! Say something back to me…” I continued deleting. She was a good actress, always had been. In front of the board, the media, her parents. The perfect boss, the perfect daughter, the perfect wife. Unfortunately, I was the only, and the most sober, audience. I opened the company SnapChat group. Overnight, the group name had changed from “Carter Tech Group” to “CEO’s Husband Job Opening.” The group was in an uproar. Thousands of messages had already scrolled by. Some were shocked, some were gossiping, some were cursing me, and some subtly supported me. The company’s Vice President, Jayden Wells, a protégé I had personally promoted, posted a message in the group: “Mr. Carter, we all believe in you.” Dozens of “+1″s followed. I smiled faintly. My phone started vibrating wildly again. Caller ID: Kelly’s Mother. I answered. “Mason! You animal! Do you want to live or not?! What did you do to Kelly?!” On the other end of the line was Kelly’s mother’s familiar, booming roar. I held the phone away from my ear a bit. “I didn’t do anything,” I said calmly. “You didn’t do anything? You sent those pictures everywhere! How is your wife supposed to live with herself?! How are we supposed to face anyone?!” “I didn’t take that photo.” “I don’t care who took it! Can’t you, as a man, just be a little more accommodating to your wife? It’s so hard for Kelly, a young woman, to fight her way up out there! Do you know how much pressure she’s under?! So what if she made a mistake? Did you have to go to such extremes?!” Her logic was as twisted as ever. “So, if she makes a mistake, I’m supposed to take the fall?” I asked. “Otherwise, what? You’re her husband! If you don’t cover for her, who will?! I’m telling you, Mason, right now! Immediately! Go apologize to everyone! Say the photo was fake, that you were jealous of Kelly’s success and mentally unstable!” I fell silent. On the other end, Kelly’s mother thought I was intimidated and softened her tone. “Mason, listen to my advice. Married couples always work things out in the end. Kelly truly cares about you. Just give in a little, and this whole thing will blow over. We’re still family.” I cut her off. “You’re right. I’m her husband, and I should cover for her.” Kelly’s mother immediately brightened: “That’s right! You should have thought that way from the start!” I paused, then spoke each word distinctly. “So, I’ve prepared a big gift for her. Soon, you and she will both receive it.” With that, I hung up. And blocked her number.

The doorbell rang. As expected. I peered through the peephole. Kelly’s mother’s face, distorted with fury, was pressed against the lens. Behind her stood a timid Kelly’s father. “Mason! Open up! I know you’re in there! You coward, do you have the guts to do it but not to own up to it?!” She pounded forcefully on the reinforced door, creating loud thuds. I didn’t open the door. I leaned against the wall behind it and lit a cigarette. This was something I had quit three years ago. Kelly disliked the smell of smoke; she said it was for losers. Now, I picked it up again. The smoke billowed, making me cough a bit, but also clearing my head. The yelling from outside continued. From “bastard” and “ungrateful wretch” to “freeloader who lives off us.” She seemed to have forgotten that this marital home was purchased by me in full before we married, with only my name on the title. She also forgot that the red Porsche her daughter drove was my thirtieth birthday gift to her. She even more conveniently forgot that when “Carter Tech Group” was on the brink of bankruptcy, it was I who took out all my savings and mortgaged my parents’ house to give it a fighting chance. People’s memories are always so selective. After about half an hour of shouting, Kelly’s mother’s voice grew hoarse, and her strength gave out. Silence fell outside the door. I guessed she was brewing her next attack. Sure enough, my phone rang. It was Kelly’s father. I put out my cigarette and answered. “Mason…” Kelly’s father’s voice sounded tired and conflicted. “Can you… just open the door and let your mother in to talk? She’s outside, and the neighbors are watching…” “You know what she’ll say,” I replied. A silence fell on the other end. “Mason, I know Kelly was wrong. She… she was spoiled by us,” Kelly’s father sighed. “But, can you… for my sake, for the sake of your three years of marriage, not make things so big?” “For old times’ sake?” I laughed. “Three years ago, I handed the company to her, came home myself, cut off all my business, all my connections. Wasn’t that for old times’ sake?” “I took care of all the housework, letting her focus on her career outside, coming home to a hot meal and clean clothes. Wasn’t that for old times’ sake?” “Three hundred out of three hundred sixty-five days a year, she was traveling, networking, ‘expanding the empire.’ I never doubted, never complained. Wasn’t that for old times’ sake?” My voice was calm, but Kelly’s father’s breathing grew heavier on the phone. “I gave her everything I had. My career, my energy, my trust. What did she give me in return?” “A photo, and a message saying, ‘Your wife is mine now.’” “You tell me, who’s not considering ‘old times’ sake’ now?” Kelly’s father was completely speechless. After a long pause, he finally spoke in a near-pleading tone: “So… what exactly do you want?” “What do I want?” I walked to the peephole, watching Kelly’s mother lean against the wall, panting, her face full of resentment. “It’s simple.” I said into the phone, as if speaking to the people outside the door. “First, a divorce.” “Second, Kelly leaves with nothing.” “Third, ‘Carter Tech Group,’ I’m taking it back.” A gasp came from the phone, I couldn’t tell if it was Kelly’s father or mother. “You’re dreaming! Mason, you’re crazy!” Kelly’s mother’s roar erupted again, making my ears ache even through the door. I ignored her. “My message has been delivered. You can go home.” “As for the gift I prepared for Kelly…” I pulled open the curtains, the sunlight blinding. Downstairs, a black sedan had just pulled up. Two men in black suits stepped out, carrying briefcases. My lawyers. “The gift has arrived.” I hung up the phone and opened the door. Outside, Kelly’s mother was about to lunge forward, but seeing the two serious-faced lawyers behind me, her movements froze. I stepped aside, making a path. “Leo Rodriguez, Owen Davis, please come in.” I gave Kelly’s mother a smile, the most genuine smile I’d had in three years. “Care to come in and listen?”

Kelly’s mother’s face went from flushed to ashen, then from ashen to livid. Her lips trembled, and she pointed at me, unable to utter a single word for a long time. Kelly’s father steadied her, looking at me with a pleading expression. I ignored him. “Leo, please.” Leo Rodriguez nodded, opened his briefcase, and pulled out two documents. One was the divorce agreement. The other was a thick stack of papers. “Mr. Carter,” Leo Rodriguez’s voice was calm and professional, precise as a surgeon’s scalpel, “let’s discuss the simpler matter first.” He pushed the divorce agreement to the center of the table. “The core terms of this divorce agreement are that Ms. Kelly Carter voluntarily relinquishes all marital assets and leaves with nothing. Mr. Carter, considering past sentiment, is willing to waive any financial claims against Ms. Carter for marital misconduct.” “Bullshit!” Kelly’s mother finally found her voice, slamming her palm on the table. “This is blackmail! Why?! The company is Kelly’s! The house and car are half hers! Mason is dreaming if he thinks she’ll leave with nothing!” I remained silent, just making a “please continue” gesture. Leo Rodriguez adjusted his glasses and spread out the thick stack of materials. On top were several detailed expense reports. “Ms. Carter’s mother, please don’t get agitated. We propose this arrangement based on the utmost protection for Ms. Carter.” He pointed to one of the receipts. “Last May, Ms. Carter authorized a company expenditure of three hundred seventy thousand using the pretext of ‘overseas business inspection.’ This money was used to purchase a Patek Philippe men’s watch. According to our investigation, that watch is currently on Mr. Leon Miller’s wrist.” Kelly’s mother’s breathing hitched. Leo Rodriguez turned to another page. “Last October, Ms. Carter advanced fifty thousand in company reserves under the pretext of ‘expanding partner resources.’ This money was used to rent an apartment in the west for a year. The actual occupant of that apartment, however, is still Mr. Leon Miller.” “This January, for the ‘Annual Excellent Employee Award,’ Mr. Leon Miller’s bonus was two hundred thousand, far exceeding directors of the same level. The payout of this bonus was not approved by the board; it was unilaterally signed and approved by Ms. Carter.” With each item Leo Rodriguez listed, Kelly’s mother’s face grew paler. He tossed a stack of photos onto the receipts. In the photos, Leon Miller was driving a brand new BMW, entering high-end clubs, his luxury watch glinting on his wrist. “And these are just the tip of the iceberg,” Owen Davis added from beside him, his voice even colder. “Ms. Kelly Carter and Mr. Leon Miller are suspected of using their positions to embezzle company assets, amounting to a significant sum. According to criminal law Article 271, this constitutes embezzlement. For substantial amounts, the penalty is five years or more in prison.” “Five years… in prison?” Kelly’s father mumbled, his body swaying slightly. “So,” Leo Rodriguez concluded, “we now have two choices.” “Choice one, Ms. Carter signs this divorce agreement. We handle this as an internal family matter, and Mr. Carter will not sue or press charges. She only loses money.” He paused, his eyes sharpening. “Choice two, we reject this agreement. In that case, we will file a lawsuit with the court tomorrow and simultaneously report to the police. Then, Ms. Carter will face not only divorce and asset division but also a criminal investigation.” “At that point, news of ‘Carter Tech Group’ CEO cheating on her subordinate and conspiring to embezzle company assets, I imagine, would be quite spectacular.” The entire living room was dead silent. Only Kelly’s mother’s heavy breathing could be heard. She looked at the mountain of evidence on the table, then at my calm, unruffled face. The arrogance and fury in her eyes were finally replaced by fear. I picked up my now-cold coffee and took a sip. I looked at her. “Now, do you still think I’m dreaming?”

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I was kidnapped 99 times by my husband Caleb Hayes’s enemies. The hundredth time, I cut my ropes and escaped home, just wanting to fall into his arms and cry. But at the door, men’s and women’s clothes were strewn across the floor. The tie I’d given him for our anniversary was draped over a piece of sexy lingerie. From the bedroom, Willow Fairmont’s voice drifted out. “Caleb, you have Mia kidnapped every time you want to avoid taking her out, and then you sleep with me. What exactly is she to you?” Through the crack in the door, Caleb’s low chuckle echoed. “What can Mia compare to you? She doesn’t even have a high school diploma. She’s too embarrassing to bring out.” “Besides, even if she found out, what could an orphan with no money or power do?” I froze, my blood running cold. It turned out that every single kidnapping over the past five years had been orchestrated by him. But he didn’t know that my billionaire parents had just reconnected with me three days ago. Mia POV I was kidnapped 99 times by my husband Caleb Hayes’s enemies. During the 100th kidnapping, I used a small knife hidden in my shoe to cut the ropes and escape. Stumbling and scrambling to my feet, my first thought was to go home. Caleb must be frantic, searching for me. But when I opened the door, what I saw were men’s and women’s clothes scattered from the entryway into the living room. Among them was the tie I’d given Caleb for our fourth wedding anniversary. Draped over the tie was a piece of sexy lingerie. My mind went blank, and my breath hitched. I stiffly walked toward the bedroom, the intimate sounds growing clearer as I approached. “Caleb, every time you need a date for a public event, you have Mia kidnapped and send me in her place. I’m the one you’re sleeping with, so who’s really your wife? Aren’t you afraid she’ll find out?” “Or is it that Mia just can’t satisfy you?” The voice belonged to Willow Fairmont, Caleb’s former arranged marriage partner, and supposedly his enemy. Yet now, despite her provocative words, her tone was clearly triumphant. Then, Caleb’s husky, satisfied voice came from behind the half-closed door. “What can Mia compare to you?” “Her embarrassing appearance at her first formal event cost me a major project and made me a laughingstock for a year.” “Business is war, and the woman by a man’s side reflects his capability. I can’t have a woman without even a high school diploma standing beside me. She just lacks the refinement I need.” “Besides, even if she found out, what could she do?” Caleb sounded supremely confident. “She’d never give up the status of Mrs. Hayes now.” “I only have her kidnapped because I’m afraid she’ll make a scene if she knows. It’s a hassle.” Willow chuckled. “Then why not just drug her? We could even do whatever we want while she’s incapacitated. Wouldn’t that be more exciting?” “Drugging her…” Caleb mused for a moment, then replied lightly, “Drugging her would be too harsh on her body. Kidnapping is more straightforward.” He laughed, teasing, “What, are you jealous? Want a title? How about being my mistress?” “You think you qualify as my lover?” Willow wasn’t offended. “Don’t forget who called me a bitch and then crawled into my bed.” “Yes, I fell first. From the first time I saw you, I was captivated.” “Willow, I’ll tell them to keep Mia for a few more days… will you stay with me for another week?” The atmosphere grew increasingly intimate, and I couldn’t bear to listen anymore. I fled from what, just a second ago, had felt like my safest haven. I ran faster and faster, but my leg injury, still not fully healed from a previous kidnapping, flared up. With a thud, I fell into the mud from the recent rain, splattering myself from head to toe. My elbow scraped raw, leaving me utterly disheveled. “Don’t cry.” I bit down hard on my lower lip, forcing myself to hold back the tears. “Mia, there’s nothing to cry about!” From childhood, when I was homeless with no parents, I didn’t cry. When I was robbed of food and beaten on the ground, I didn’t cry. Every time I fell, I never cried. I shouldn’t cry now either. But tears welled up uncontrollably. It turned out that all my suffering over the past five years had been inflicted by Caleb. From the first kidnapping, I was pushed from a third-story window, breaking my leg. During the second kidnapping, I was so traumatized that I miscarried the baby I was carrying, making it impossible for me to conceive again. The third kidnapping left me with claustrophobia. I nearly suffocated. By the 99th kidnapping, I was suffering from severe PTSD. I was terrified of strangers, the dark, ropes. Any small fright would send me into trembling fits and make me vomit. At my worst, I spent three months in the hospital, surviving only on IV drips, unable to eat anything. My stomach churned. Even though I was safe now, the illness struck, and I couldn’t stop dry heaving. I began to sob softly, then burst into uncontrollable tears. It was as if I needed to release all the love I had for Caleb. It started twenty years ago, when I was six and saved a dying Caleb. We scavenged for food together, hid from human traffickers, and then entered the same orphanage. When I was in tenth grade, the orphanage closed, and we ended up on the streets. Our teacher said Caleb’s grades meant he had a good chance of getting into a prestigious university like Harvard. I couldn’t bear for him to miss a life-changing opportunity, so I started working to support his education. During our poorest times, I gave him all my money, surviving on instant noodles once a day for three months. Caleb watched me waste away, his eyes red as he promised, “Mia, I will give you the best life possible.” His promise was fulfilled in another way. After graduating from Harvard, the Hayes family found him. Still with grease stains from the kitchen on my pants, I was brought by Caleb to their opulent mansion. The Hayes family was extremely displeased with me, threatening Caleb with disinheritance if he didn’t break up with me. “Who are you to be his wife?” Caleb immediately took me to register our marriage. “My Mia deserves all the best things in the world. I can disown myself from your family, but I will only marry her in this lifetime.” So, when Caleb said he was worried I’d be kidnapped by more enemies and therefore never appeared with me in public or in the media, I understood. No matter how much pain I suffered because of him, I never blamed him. But I failed to notice that Caleb had changed long ago. From the first formal event I attended, where, unaccustomed to high heels, I was intentionally tripped, and a champagne tower spilled all over me. I became a laughingstock. But that wasn’t my last public embarrassment. Some people laughed because I didn’t understand French and deliberately taught me to insult myself in the language. They mocked my cheap food, called my name old-fashioned, and covered their noses, saying I smelled. I endured it. I thought as long as Caleb didn’t find me embarrassing, it didn’t matter. But now, his heart belonged to another woman. All that was left for me was deceit and pain. If that’s the case, then I don’t want him anymore. I don’t want our twenty years together. Wiping away my tears, I stood up and borrowed a stranger’s phone to call his mother. “As you wish, I agree to divorce Caleb.”

Mia POV Afraid I would change my mind, she demanded I come sign the divorce papers the next day. “You don’t need to worry about Caleb. Don’t tell him about this. Just wait a month until the divorce is finalized, and then leave immediately.” “And of course, you won’t get a penny.” I had no objection. No sooner had I hung up than a Maybach screeched to a halt on the roadside. Caleb got out of the car and strode quickly to my side, not caring about the dirt on me as he hugged me tightly. “Mia, I was so worried about you!” He held me as if he wanted to absorb me into his body, his voice trembling with obvious urgency. In the past, every time I was rescued, I only felt safe in his arms. But now, as I smelled Willow’s perfume on him, I only felt revulsion and a chill throughout my body. “Worried about me?” My voice was cold. “Were you really worried?” When he laughed about having me kidnapped for a few more days, was he worried about me, or was he savoring Willow’s kiss? Caleb keenly sensed I was different from usual, assuming it was just because I was traumatized. When he saw the scratches on my hand, his expression changed. “How did you hurt your hand? Did you get injured while escaping? Does it hurt?” “I’m sorry, it’s my fault. I failed to protect you again. Don’t be afraid, we’re going home.” Without waiting for my answer, Caleb picked me up and placed me in the car. Less than an hour later, the mansion was spotless, with no trace of another woman. After applying medicine to my wounds, Caleb was about to hold me and sing my favorite songs repeatedly, as he had the ninety-nine times before. But I refused his touch. “I want to be alone today.” Caleb paused but didn’t seem to suspect anything. The next morning, after signing the divorce papers, I went to the orphanage to sort things out before my departure. After Caleb brought me back to the Hayes family, I gradually used my savings to build an orphanage. Even when my condition wasn’t suitable for work after being kidnapped, I continued to serve as director, personally managing its affairs. But now that I was leaving, I needed to arrange for the children’s future. The vice-director was the best candidate. We grew up in the same orphanage, and I trusted her character and ability. Things were a bit sudden, but Chloe eventually solemnly promised not to let me down. “Mia, you’re leaving? Where are you going?” I shook my head. “I don’t know, I just want to live in a different city.” “Are you going with Caleb? I still remember when he was ten, someone wanted to adopt him, but he clung to you and refused to leave, saying he couldn’t be separated from you.” I paused, not answering. But Caleb had changed. Once a person changes, all their past promises mean nothing. Now, I just wanted to be as far away from him as possible. Chloe was about to say something else when a girl suddenly rushed into the office, smiling and bowing to me. “I haven’t had a chance to thank you personally. I got an internship at Hayes Corporation. If Mr. Hayes hadn’t given me an interview opportunity because of you, my qualifications would have surely been screened out at the resume stage.” I was a bit taken aback. “An interview?” Chloe explained, “You didn’t know? Caleb has actually been helping you all along.” “Not just with the internship. Last month, when you were hospitalized, a girl who had been abandoned was taken back by her parents. If Caleb hadn’t intervened, that girl would have been sold to Southeast Asia. Several children in the orphanage who needed surgery, he connected us with hospital specialists and paid for their treatments.” “Yes, yes!” Lily, the girl next to us, chimed in. “Mr. Hayes cares so much about you! He’s been secretly donating to the orphanage and said you weren’t well and he didn’t want you to worry too much about the place.” “He said he would prepare everything for you.” I was stunned for a long while. In the five years since returning to the Hayes family, Caleb had not truly gained his parents’ approval or real power within the company. Therefore, I wouldn’t trouble him with my own affairs. Even during the early days of establishing the orphanage, when funds were scarce, I never asked for his money. It turned out Caleb had done so much behind my back. But then I thought, what else had he hidden from me?

Mia POV After spending a week completing the handover, I returned to the mansion with a complicated heart, only to see Willow standing in my room. She held a lighter, using it to set fire to a stuffed doll. “What are you doing?!” My face instantly drained of color. I ran over, snatched the doll, and extinguished the flames with my bare hands, but it was too late. The cloth doll, once ignited, burned quickly. Even with my desperate attempts to save it, only a few charred cotton remnants and shredded fabric remained. This doll was the only thing I had carried with me during my homeless days, and my only connection to my birth parents. I had carefully preserved it for twenty years, and now it was gone, just like that. “How dare you destroy my property?!” Willow, however, merely chuckled dismissively. “Oh, I thought it was just some trash.” “You’re getting so worked up over a piece of garbage. How can you be Caleb Hayes’s wife and still be so common?” “Did you get addicted to picking up trash when you were a kid?” I frowned. “What nonsense are you talking about!” The commotion attracted Caleb and Willow’s mother, but before they reached us, Willow suddenly slapped herself. By the time I realized what she was doing, Willow had completely changed her expression, her face a mask of grievance as she rushed into her mother’s arms, who had just entered the room. “Mom, Mia suddenly lost it and slapped me because of a broken doll.” Willow’s mother’s gaze instantly turned icy. “Caleb, are you trying to insult us? My daughter finally forgave you for breaking off your engagement, and now you let her suffer such humiliation? Do you still want our families’ collaboration to continue?” Caleb’s face darkened. “Mia, what are you doing? Apologize at once!” The blisters on my hand from the fire stung, and I gritted my teeth. “Apologize for what? Can’t you see this blatant setup? I didn’t hit her; she burned my doll!” “You know that doll was the only thing my parents left me!” Willow, her eyes red and swollen with tears, said, “I’m sorry, Mia. That doll was so tattered, I thought it was garbage. I didn’t know what it meant to you.” “But your parents didn’t want you, and keeping that doll won’t make them want you now.” Her words completely infuriated me. I bristled, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, and lunged forward, wanting to slap Willow’s provoking face. But before I could even touch Willow, Caleb shoved me away. My head slammed directly against a table, the pain so intense that my vision blurred. “Enough, Mia! Look at where we are!” “This isn’t a big deal; why would you hit her?” Caleb’s face was grim. “Besides, is she wrong? It’s been over twenty years. If your parents really wanted you, they would have found you by now.” “Hitting someone over a broken doll. When did you become so unreasonable?” “You may not have parents to care for you, but others do! Apologize!” The man before me spoke the most hurtful words. He had personally witnessed people pinning me down, forcing me to admit I was unwanted trash. I was beaten until I coughed blood, but I never broke down. Yet, he would still, for Willow, stab a knife into my heart. And the sharpest blade, no less. I suddenly laughed. Laughed at my own foolish self-pity. He said he would prepare everything for me, secretly handling the orphanage’s problems. I had thought he at least held a little genuine feeling for me. Slap! I landed a harsh blow across Caleb’s face. Before anyone could react, I raised my hand again. Another slap! “Caleb, this is unreasonable.” My voice was ice-cold. Caleb’s face darkened, and he, too, was enraged. After all, even during his time on the streets, no one had ever hit him like that. And after five years with the Hayes family, he was no longer the orphan who had to endure to survive. “I’ve spoiled you too much, allowing your old bad habits to fester into this. You’re due for a bit of hardship.”

Mia POV Caleb locked me in the basement and didn’t even send food down. “Go reflect on your mistakes. You’ll come out and eat when you admit you were wrong.” Over the years of being kidnapped, I had developed severe stomach problems. I also had nyctophobia; I had to sleep with the lights on, or I would tremble uncontrollably. Caleb knew all this. He had seen me white-faced with stomach pain and had stayed up all night caring for me; he had cried with concern when he saw me huddled in a corner, shivering. Yet, he still did this to me because of Willow. I laughed, a truly bitter laugh. This stalemate lasted three days. On the evening of the third day, huddled in the corner, I received an audio message from Willow: “Back then, I was afraid of her rude and unreasonable personality, which is why I faked her kidnappings.” “You wouldn’t believe it, there was a girl who sent Caleb a love letter once, and Mia had her face disfigured.” “Honestly, I somewhat regret impulsively rushing into marriage with her back then.” My heart felt a dull ache, and I gritted my teeth, suppressing a surge of bitterness. Caleb only remembered me disfiguring that person’s face but forgot that the girl had deliberately pushed me down the stairs first. At the time, that girl had sent him a love letter only because she had made a deal with someone. To date him and sabotage his grades to knock him from the top of his class. I hadn’t told him these things. But it made him wrongly believe I was jealous. After he got involved with Willow, he feared I would harm her, so he chose to hurt me instead. I suddenly felt like a complete joke. As if the audio wasn’t enough, Willow continued. “Mia, that day you escaped, you heard the sounds from the mansion, didn’t you?” “Your husband plans to take me to Australia to buy a vineyard as compensation. Guess what, will you be kidnapped again?” She sent me details of all the places she and Caleb had visited over the years and what they had done. Last month, they drank wine under the Eiffel Tower. At that time, I was abandoned in a desolate area, listening to wolves howl for nights. Last winter, they went to the Southern Hemisphere to enjoy spring. At that time, I was being harassed with lewd comments by kidnappers, too terrified to sleep, clutching my clothes in fear for a week. They traveled the world. And these locations were all places Caleb and I had wished to visit together when we were kids, huddled under blankets. It turned out that the wishes two people made together could be fulfilled with someone else. While I prayed countless times for Caleb to save me from my predicament, he was gently kissing Willow, laughing so happily. The contrast was too stark; my stomach clenched physiologically, the pain making me break into a cold sweat. Eventually, I even threw up a mouthful of blood. I fainted. I woke up again in a hospital, with an IV drip in my arm. Caleb sat by my bed, his eyes shadowed with dark circles, clearly having stayed up all night to care for me. We looked at each other in silence. After a long time, he sighed deeply and was the first to lower his head. “Alright, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have said such harsh things. My mistake.” “But you also have to understand me. You slapped me in front of our guests; where does that leave my dignity?” “But you can’t bully Willow anymore. You’re so strong; how could a fragile young woman like her withstand your slap?” He still thought it was my fault, but I no longer bothered to explain. Whether he believed me or not, it didn’t matter anymore. Seeing my silence, Caleb thought I was still angry. He took my hand and coaxed, “Alright, don’t let this affect our relationship. Your birthday is in two days. For the past few years, you were either kidnapped or I was busy, so we never celebrated properly. This year, how about I take you to your favorite restaurant for your birthday?” I pulled my hand away, closed my eyes, and said nothing. There were still twenty days until the divorce was finalized. Just twenty more days to endure. On my birthday, a driver picked me up and took me to a private dining room at a restaurant. After sitting down, it wasn’t Caleb who arrived. “Well, well, isn’t this Caleb Hayes’s little… woman? Why are you alone? Did Caleb leave you lonely?” I looked over; it was Victor Thorne, a business partner of Caleb’s. He seemed to have been drinking, his face flushed, as he steadily advanced towards me. I immediately realized his intent, and my scalp tingled with dread. “What are you doing? Get away! Or I’ll call for help!” My threat had no effect. He lunged at me, pinning me to the ground with one hand and fumbling with my clothes with the other. “Blame your husband! He’s ruined my plans too many times. Today, I’m going to make him taste what it’s like to have his wife humiliated!”

Mia POV “Let go! Let go of me!” “Help!” I struggled, landing a punch on Victor’s face, which completely enraged him. His eyes were vicious, and he clamped his hands tightly around my throat. “You want to die, don’t you?!” A sudden wave of suffocation washed over me. He really intended to kill me, and I couldn’t break free. Gradually, I lost my strength. Just as I despaired, the private room door was kicked open. The next second, Victor was yanked up by Caleb, his fists smashing into bone with increasing force. Caleb’s voice was as cold as ice. “Who gave you the guts to lay a hand on my person?!” Caleb was in a frenzy, his eyes blazing with a terrifying crimson. After dealing with Victor, he carefully took off his jacket and draped it over me, his hands shaking as he held me. “Mia, are you okay? It’s over, I’m here.” Tears streamed uncontrollably from my eyes. I tried to say something but passed out. When I woke up, it was night. The marks on my neck had been treated with medicine. Caleb stood a short distance away, talking on the phone. “Mom, Dad, I will press charges against Victor. Even if you object, even if it jeopardizes our collaboration with his family and costs the company, I will make him pay.” “I can’t let Mia be wronged.” On the phone, his parents vehemently opposed him, but Caleb was no longer listening to them as he usually did. His mother, furious, blurted out, “Mia is about to divorce you! Are you still going to jeopardize the company’s development for her?” My heart skipped a beat at her words. Caleb frowned. “Mom, what are you talking about?” “I told you, even if Mia can never have children, I will not divorce her.” “She only has me now.” With that, he hung up the phone. Seeing me open my eyes, he walked to the bedside, his coaxing voice so gentle it could melt ice. “You’re awake? Does anything hurt?” “It’s okay; the bad guy has been dealt with. No one will hurt you again.” My throat was terribly sore, and I couldn’t speak for a moment. “Throat hurts? Here, the doctor said drinking this medicine will help.” Caleb held the medicine and personally fed it to me. For a moment, I was lost in a haze, feeling as if I had returned to the days when we relied on each other. “Oh, right, I prepared a birthday gift for you.” After feeding me the medicine, Caleb pulled out a beautifully wrapped gift box. Inside was a thick gold bangle, with roses carved all around its surface. “You always said you’d buy gold when you had money. It’s a bit late, and I didn’t expect tonight to turn out like this, but… happy birthday, Mia.” He put the gold bangle on my wrist, held my hand, his expression sincere. “I hope my Mia is always happy and joyful.” I was speechless. If it had been before, I probably would have been moved to tears. Moved that he remembered my casual remark. But this gift came truly too late. My throat injury wasn’t severe enough to require hospitalization. Back home, I collapsed from exhaustion and fell asleep. I woke up in the middle of the night due to discomfort in my throat and got out of bed to get a glass of warm water. Passing Caleb’s study, I overheard him talking on the phone with his lawyer friend. “Caleb, I didn’t realize you’d sacrifice your own wife to get revenge for Willow.” “But your plan was brilliant: drug Victor, make him lust after Mia and sexually harass her, then you swoop in as the hero, taking the moral and legal high ground to punish him.” “After this incident, the Thorne family is doomed, and he’ll never dare to offend Willow again.” I was stunned, my blood freezing in my veins. “But why didn’t you let Willow handle Victor herself? With the Fairmont family’s connections, Victor could have gotten a harsher sentence.” Caleb frowned. “That method, while effective, carries risks.” “Victor is quite strong, and Mia has been good at fighting since she was a child, so she wouldn’t truly be harmed. Unlike Willow; she’s never even gotten a scratch since she was little, how could she endure a beating?” “Aren’t you afraid your wife would get hurt? No matter what, she’s still a woman. Victor was so brutal then, what if…” Caleb pressed his lips together, and there was a moment of silence. After a while, he spoke softly: “But what you said didn’t happen, did it? Mia has always been strong. A few injuries are nothing. A little hardship, and I can compensate her.” “Besides, Mia offended Willow a few days ago, so this was a good opportunity to make amends to her.” “Willow is different.” His voice carried a note of preciousness. “She’s a princess; how could I bear to let her suffer any hardship?”

Mia POV Outside the door, I felt as if an invisible hand was squeezing my throat again. I rubbed my dry eyes. Looking at the gold bangle on my wrist, I smiled bitterly. So, this was compensation. So, resisting his parents to sue Victor wasn’t for me after all. In his eyes, what was I? Injured, but it wouldn’t hurt; wronged, but it was nothing. I meant nothing at all! Even though my heart ached, I was already numb. I didn’t rush in to confront him; I just quietly returned to my room. During my recovery, Caleb cared for me meticulously, except when he was at work. Meanwhile, I began to deal with the things Caleb had given me. I sold the gold bangle and all the luxury items Caleb had given me, converting everything into cash and depositing it into the orphanage’s account. With fifteen days left until the divorce was finalized, Caleb took me for a follow-up check-up at the hospital. Willow came with us. “I need a check-up, too. Caleb, can you give me a ride on the way? Mia, you don’t mind, do you?” Without waiting for my answer, she opened the car door and sat directly in the front passenger seat. Caleb frowned slightly. “You should sit in the back. It’s not appropriate for you to sit in front.” Willow pouted. “Oh, is that Mia’s exclusive seat? But I always sit in the front passenger seat. Otherwise, I won’t go.” “Mia, do you mind if I take your seat?” I ignored her and got into the car. Willow paused for a moment, then smiled. “See? Even Mia doesn’t care. Caleb, I don’t care, I’m sitting in the front.” On the way, the car was filled only with Willow’s sweet, delicate voice. Caleb, however, responded distractedly, constantly checking me in the rearview mirror. “Mia, what do you want to eat after your check-up? Should I cook for you personally?” “Whatever.” Caleb was about to say something else when Willow suddenly reached into his suit pocket and exclaimed. “Caleb, so my lipstick was here all along! No wonder I couldn’t find it.” “It must have fallen in when you slept over at my place, I wasn’t careful.” Her words were intimate, and Caleb instinctively looked at me, but I showed no reaction. He hastily said, “Mia, I stayed overnight at Willow’s house to discuss a project; it wasn’t for any other reason. Don’t misunderstand.” Willow also smiled and explained, “Yes, Mia, there’s no way anything could happen between Caleb and me. Even though we’re collaborating now, he and I will always be enemies.” I heard the provocation in her words. I could foresee that if I hadn’t discovered the truth about the kidnappings, if we hadn’t divorced, then scenes like today, designed to cause ‘misunderstanding,’ would play out countless times in the future. Once I questioned Caleb, I would be labeled as an unreasonable, crazy woman. But I didn’t want to be a crazy woman. “Understood.” Caleb saw my cold reaction and was about to speak when suddenly, BAM! Our car was rear-ended directly by a large truck. Through the rearview mirror, I saw the driver was Victor Thorne, who had escaped. “Caleb Hayes, you want to send me to prison, you want to ruin me, right? Then let’s die together!” His eyes were savage, and his car sped wildly, clearly intending to take us all down with him. Just as we were about to collide with the vehicle ahead, Caleb swerved the steering wheel sharply. Our car slammed into the roadside barrier, and Victor’s truck careened into the opposite lane, crashing into a large concrete barrier. Victor died instantly. A dull pain exploded in my abdomen. In the second before I lost consciousness, I saw Caleb quickly shield Willow beneath him. When I regained consciousness, I felt as though my internal organs had shifted. The immense pain made every breath feel like torture. “Caleb, I’m in so much pain.” Willow’s face was covered in blood, and she cried piteously. “I’ve lost so much blood; am I going to die?” “But I don’t want to die…” I saw Caleb tightly holding her hand, hooking his pinky finger to promise, “No, you won’t. I won’t let you die.” Beside me, there was no one. All three of us were injured. Caleb’s injuries were the lightest, and he could still walk. Willow and I, however, were both lying on stretchers. Nurses rushed over after checking our blood. “Doctor, both patients are O-negative, but the hospital blood bank is out of O-negative blood. It’ll take at least half an hour to get emergency blood delivered.” The doctor frowned. “That’s too long.” Caleb quickly stepped forward. “I’m O-negative; I can donate blood to them.” “Doctor, he’s also injured. We can’t take too much. Right now, it’s only enough for one patient.” “Which one first?” The doctor pointed at me. “Give Mia the transfusion first. Willow can still speak and can wait for the blood to arrive. But Mia has lost too much blood. If she doesn’t get a transfusion soon, she’ll die.” At these words, Willow clung to Caleb, her wails suddenly escalating. “Caleb, I hurt! Save me! I feel like I’m going to die!” I strained against my heavy eyelids. I felt myself teetering on the edge of death. Only Caleb was familiar in this chaos; I wanted him to hold me. I wanted to say I was scared, I was so cold. And I hurt, too. But I didn’t even have the strength to speak. In the silence, my eyes met Caleb’s. I also saw him hesitate, then point at Willow. “Save her first.” The doctor tried to persuade him further, but Caleb insisted, “It’s my blood. I say who gets saved first. Otherwise, I won’t donate.” In that instant, I stopped myself. I didn’t want to say anything. It was pointless. In Caleb’s eyes, I was no longer important. It was a good thing I didn’t love him anymore. I would never love him again in this lifetime. After a brief stalemate, the doctor didn’t dare wait any longer. She told Caleb to get ready while urging the nurses to rush the emergency blood delivery. That day, waiting for the blood, I felt like I was going through all the pain I’d ever experience in my life. Every breath tugged at the wound in my abdomen, every tiny movement hurt so much it made my vision blur. I could hear Caleb constantly encouraging Willow. I wanted to cry, but my tears seemed to have dried up along with my blood.

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