Category: English

On my wedding anniversary with my husband, his female friend Heather pointed at Ethan and suddenly said: “Actually, today is a double celebration. I’m pregnant with your child.” I was thunderstruck and immediately demanded an explanation. Ethan just laughed nonchalantly and laid it all out: “We grew up together. Exploring each other’s bodies is perfectly normal. She and I are fuck buddies at most. You’re still my legitimate wife.” Dizzy, I fell down the stairs and tumbled to the ground. A sharp pain shot through my lower abdomen, and blood instantly stained my white dress. I trembled as I pulled out my pregnancy test results: “Ethan, I…” Before I could finish, he interrupted me with a sneer: “What tricks are you playing now? Trying to use a fake pregnancy to make Heather get an abortion?” Heather also covered her mouth and laughed: “Natalie, did your blood pack leak? Your acting is so fake. Everyone knows you’re infertile. Stop pretending.” Lying in a pool of blood, watching him hold someone else, I finally made a decision. I accepted my college classmate’s invitation to study at an overseas research institute.

I don’t know how long I’d been lying in the hospital, but I was awakened by the heavy breathing of a man and woman on the ward’s sofa. “Heather, Natalie’s still lying in the hospital bed. Let’s go somewhere else.” “This is so exciting! Right in front of your own wife…” I slowly opened my eyes. A naked man and woman were entwined together. I trembled with rage, finding it hard to believe. This past year, Ethan had used his supposed germophobia as an excuse, and our intimate moments could be counted on one hand. Even when going through the motions mechanically, he always frowned with disgust, calling me revolting afterward, like a bitch in heat. He’d rush to the bathroom as if trying to scrub off a layer of skin. Listening to Heather’s passionate moans, the last trace of warmth remaining in my heart finally turned cold. Ethan unconsciously glanced at me. Only when he saw me motionless did he relax. “This won’t affect our child, will it?” Heather’s voice was sweet and soft: “I asked the doctor. Both your babies can handle moderate activity…” I touched my flat abdomen, tears streaming down my face. The two of them changed positions several times. After more than ten minutes, they finally finished everything amid gasps and satisfaction. After they left, I struggled to sit up. Seeing the miscarriage report on the table, my whole body began to shake uncontrollably. Ever since my uterus was injured, I’d undergone all kinds of treatments to conceive this child. But ten years of feelings, in Ethan’s eyes, ultimately couldn’t compare to a few of Heather’s fake tears and her lies that twisted the truth. After sitting numbly on the sofa all night, I finally saw things clearly. I picked up my phone and decisively replied to my college classmate’s message: “I agree to the overseas study program you mentioned before. But I have one requirement: keep it completely confidential from my family.” Then I tore the miscarriage report into pieces and threw it in the trash. Someone knocked on the door. Ethan walked in and saw the report in the trash can. “You know everything?” He gently pulled me into his arms: “Natalie, we’ll have another child. Heather’s pregnant, so it’s normal for her to be temperamental. Just bear with it.” Smelling the pungent perfume on him, I suppressed my nausea and pulled away: “What exactly do you take me for? Heather’s a pregnant woman who can’t be wronged, but what about me?” Ethan’s expression instantly darkened: “Stop making a scene, okay?” The weather was hot, but my heart was ice cold. That’s right, in Ethan’s view, when guests at the family banquet drowned my dog and I demanded justice, I was “making a scene”; when my intimate photos were spread by Heather and I warned her, I was “making a scene”; when I nearly died in difficult labor and interrupted his date with Heather to sign critical condition forms, that was also “making a scene.” I stared straight into his eyes, trying to find traces of the Ethan who had personally decorated the nursery during my first pregnancy, who had stayed up all night choosing names for the child. But meeting his gaze, I saw only cold ice in Ethan’s eyes. I pulled at the corner of my mouth and spoke hoarsely: “Let’s divorce, Ethan.”

“You and your mother both need my money to live. Natalie, don’t joke around.” Ethan frowned at me, his attitude still superior: “Besides, with my status…” “Ethan, stop wasting time on her.” Heather interrupted our conversation, linking her arm with Ethan’s and acting coquettish: “Today’s the third-week anniversary of my pregnancy. The fireworks show is about to start. Let’s go watch!” The irritation in the man’s eyes instantly vanished. His lips curved upward as he walked toward the floor-to-ceiling window with Heather: “Be careful, don’t hurt the baby.” “The fireworks show was specially prepared for you. I dare anyone to start without you!” I watched the brilliant fireworks in the sky, feeling somewhat dazed. Years ago, on the night Ethan confessed to me, he couldn’t even afford a decent bouquet of roses. He only held a few cheap sparklers, clumsily lighting them for me. His face was red then, but his eyes were incredibly sincere: “I’ll definitely give you the best life in the future. I’ll give you the biggest fireworks show.” But now we had everything—money, power, everything except love. He could give Heather and the child in her belly a spectacular fireworks display, but he wouldn’t spare me even a word of concern. As the fireworks faded, people in the hospital corridor exclaimed in amazement: “Mrs. Evans is so blessed! Even her pregnancy gets celebrated with a million-dollar fireworks show!” “I heard she’s been accompanied throughout her conception planning and prenatal checkups by Mr. Evans himself, afraid something might go wrong!” Hearing these words, I felt like I’d fallen into an ice cave, trembling all over. So Heather’s pregnancy wasn’t an accident at all! He’d even indulged her in replacing me as Mrs. Evans in front of others, all to give Heather’s child legitimacy. “Crash!” Behind me came the sound of breaking glass. Heather grabbed my arm, sobbing: “Natalie, I accidentally broke your photo frame. Sorry.” My body stiffened imperceptibly. The photo in that frame was the only picture of my grandmother and me before she passed. Even the frame itself was a birthday gift my grandmother had carved for me. Ethan couldn’t possibly not know this. Anger surged in my heart as I shook off the woman’s hand: “Pick it up, clean it, and give it back to me!” But when Heather bent down while clutching her belly, Ethan swiftly picked up the frame and threw it at my head: “Natalie, I thought you’d be sensible, but I didn’t expect you to be so vicious!” Vicious? I laughed out loud. Going to checkups alone, letting outsiders replace my identity as Mrs. Evans, deliberately smashing my grandmother’s keepsake—facing all this differential treatment, Ethan could still call me vicious. Blood from my forehead mixed with tears. I couldn’t help but mock myself: “Ethan, in your eyes, my repeated forbearance is vicious, but Heather causing my miscarriage is just an accident. Don’t you find that absurd?” Ethan’s chest heaved violently. Then Heather said tearfully: “Don’t be angry with Natalie. She just lost her child, so it’s normal for her to be temperamental!” She pushed the man toward the door: “After all, this is between Natalie and me. Let us resolve it ourselves! Besides, don’t you need to handle Natalie’s discharge procedures? Hurry up.” Ethan instructed with concern: “Be careful then, don’t hurt the baby.” After the man left, Heather no longer concealed the malice in her eyes: “Ethan and I have been like two peas in a pod since childhood. Our bond naturally runs deeper than yours. Once I give birth to this child, how much longer do you think you can stay by his side?” Facing her low-level provocation, I didn’t react impulsively as I used to. I just silently picked up the photo from the floor: “He’s just garbage. If you want him, take him. But Heather, stolen goods will never truly be yours!” Perhaps she’d never seen me so sharp before. She stood dazed for a long time. Seeing me walk out of the ward, she finally shouted in exasperation: “Natalie, you just wait!” I left the hospital directly and pulled out my phone to message the divorce attorney: “I’ve sent the evidence of infidelity to your email. Make sure to check it.” After sending the message, I returned to the villa to pack my luggage. But the moment I walked out the villa’s front door, bodyguards blocked my way.

Ethan was furious: “Heather had a miscarriage. Did you do it!” Before I could answer, he angrily grabbed my throat: “Who else but you couldn’t tolerate the child in her belly!” I was confused: “Ethan, what are you talking about? I…” He slapped me across the face. Looking into each other’s eyes, only shocking ferocity remained in Ethan’s: “Heather is delicate. You must apologize to her in person!” He turned to the bodyguards and commanded sharply: “Take Natalie to the hospital!” Already weak, I couldn’t resist the bodyguards’ restraint. By the time we reached the hospital, Heather was watching me with a victor’s gaze: “Ethan, I lost my child. A simple apology won’t make this go away!” I forced myself to stand, the sharp pain in my abdomen making me stagger. Ethan instinctively stepped forward: “Are you uncomfortable?” Then, thinking better of it, he looked at me with disgust: “Trying to play weak to avoid punishment? Kneel and apologize to Heather!” My heart turned completely cold: “I won’t admit to something I didn’t do!” Heather’s provocative expression intensified: “Fine, since Natalie won’t apologize, let’s have her mother from the nursing home kneel and beg for my forgiveness. Ethan, like mother like daughter! We need to solve this problem at its root!” Hearing her threaten to use my mother to make me submit, I couldn’t take it anymore and lunged forward to grab her throat: “She knows nothing about this. Don’t drag my mother into this!” The next second, Ethan violently pushed me away: “Have you lost your mind, Natalie? I told you to apologize to teach you a lesson, not to escalate your attacks on Heather!” I crashed heavily onto the floor, every bone radiating dense pain. “Go bring Natalie’s mother here!” My heart seized with panic. Looking up, I saw Heather’s increasingly smug expression. My eyes reddened: “My mother is my only family. You can’t touch her!” To break free from restraint, I bit down on Heather’s arm. Ethan was livid and flung me three meters away: “Natalie, will you ever stop!” I flew straight into the window, countless glass shards piercing my skin. Ethan instinctively took a step forward, but Heather rushed over to help me first: “When that old hag arrives, guess how I’ll torture her?” My heart raced with panic: “My mom is old. She can’t take any harm!” In my panic, I grabbed a fruit knife nearby and rushed at Heather. “Ah! Help!” Unexpectedly, Ethan blocked the woman. The bodyguards pinned me firmly to the ground. “I’ve been more than generous with you. What has Heather ever done to you? Look at yourself—you’re like a shrew!” Ethan’s eyes turned red with anger, pointing at my nose and roaring. But all I could think about was my mother’s uncertain fate. I cried my heart out: “I’ll apologize! Just don’t touch my mother, and I’ll kneel and apologize!”

And so, I knelt at the hospital room door, slapping myself over and over, saying “I’m sorry” repeatedly. People came and went through the corridor, excitedly watching the spectacle. My forehead kept hitting the marble floor, quickly becoming bloody. A flash of shock crossed Ethan’s eyes. He instinctively moved to pull me up. But Heather covered her nose in disgust: “Ethan, I just had a miscarriage and can’t stand the smell of blood. Make her get away!” Ethan hesitated for a moment, then issued his command: “She’s gone mad. Lock her and her mother in the private apartment to clear their heads!” Supporting my weak body, I was pushed into a dark room. My mother was curled up in a corner. My heart ached as I slowly pulled my mother into my arms: “Mom, don’t scare me. Open your eyes and look at me…” Seeing me, tears filled my mother’s eyes. Her aged hand caressed my cheek: “Natalie, leave him. I can’t burden you anymore.” Then, with a blade she’d found somewhere, she slashed her wrist. Blood gushed out. “No!” The person in my arms stopped breathing. I couldn’t help but scream loudly, my face full of hatred and despair, tears streaming down, nearly collapsing: “I’ll do whatever you say, Mom! Wake up!” Then Ethan knocked on the door: “What’s going on?” I screamed in agony: “I’m going to kill Heather! That murderer!” “So cold… Ethan, let’s go back to the hospital!” The woman fell into the man’s embrace, urging softly. Ethan’s eyes showed complex emotions as he instructed the bodyguards: “It’s cold at night. Turn up the bedroom temperature. Natalie just had a miscarriage and can’t handle the cold.” Heather shot a vicious look at the bodyguards. The bodyguard at the door immediately complied. The heat suddenly intensified. Sweat soaked through my clothes. When I smelled the rotting odor from my mother’s body, I completely broke down, pounding on the iron door with all my strength: “Let us out! Ethan, there’s something wrong with this air conditioning!” As my vision began to darken, my knees were scraped raw, and my whole body felt like the skin had been peeled off. In my ears was Ethan’s final warning: “Natalie, I’ll let you out when you’ve learned your lesson. Heather lost her child. You need to suffer before she’ll be satisfied.” I curled up, my whole body paralyzed by the heat on the floor. I used my last bit of consciousness to speak: “Ethan…” Before completely losing consciousness, I fell into a strong, powerful embrace. A man’s voice was low: “Go investigate everything that happened today thoroughly!” Meanwhile, when Ethan was taking Heather to the hospital for a checkup, he saw breaking news on the lobby screen. The video showed the apartment where Natalie was locked had suddenly exploded. Then dozens of charred bodies were carried out. Ethan suddenly saw the wedding ring he’d given Natalie now on one of the charred corpses! Countless strings seemed to snap in his mind. Panic swept through his entire body: “No way… Natalie has always been lucky. It can’t be such a coincidence!” He scrambled to the explosion site and grabbed a police officer’s arm: “My wife is still inside the apartment. Have all these victims been identified?” The medical examiner removed his mask: “You’re Natalie’s family, right? If nothing unexpected, her body is in the first-floor lobby.”

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The day before the Marking ceremony, I got the wedding photos from the photographer. But the bride wasn’t me. Furious, I rushed to the bridal boutique to confront Alpha Liam. The moment I pushed open the door, I saw Liam’s female childhood friend wearing my wedding dress. When I demanded an explanation, Liam calmly sat down and blamed me instead. “What are you throwing a tantrum about now? Ava was just curious and wanted to try it on. It’s not like she can damage it by wearing it.” “Ava is my best friend. It’s just a dress. Is it really worth getting this angry over? I’ll just give her this wedding dress to use for photos.” He wanted to give my wedding dress to another woman! Bullshit. I picked up the wine glass and splashed it in his face. He thought that I, a human, wouldn’t dare provoke a powerful alpha. But what he didn’t know was that my stepbrother is the alpha of Moonclaw Pack. He’s powerful, handsome, and extremely possessive. And he’s had a crush on me for a long time.

Olivia Summers POV Before the Marking ceremony, my wedding photographer Amy sent me the finalized wedding photos. I opened the package with joy and began admiring them. But I discovered that the woman standing beside Liam in the photos wasn’t me. It was Ava. The daughter of the beta serving Liam’s father. She grew up with Liam, his so-called best friend. As I flipped through more pages, there were many more photos of just the two of them. In the pictures, Ava wore an elaborate wedding dress. Liam either embraced her from behind, gazed at her affectionately, or kissed her. In one photo, Ava’s finger clearly wore the ring I had selected. I remembered that half a month ago, Liam said he needed to help Ava with a favor. So this was his idea of helping. Going to take wedding photos with his so-called good friend, then continuing to deceive me by saying they were just friends. Moon goddess above, he was deceiving his fated mate! Yes, I am the fated mate of Frostveil Pack’s alpha Liam. But I’m not a werewolf. I’m an ordinary human. Three years ago, Liam and I met at a friend’s gathering and started dating. After three years together, his proposal wasn’t anything special. Just a sentence after dinner: “Get ready. The Marking ceremony is coming up soon.” As a human who grew up in the werewolf world, I certainly knew what the Marking ceremony meant. Werewolves Mark their mates and form a strong mate bond. It’s roughly equivalent to marriage in the human world, but much more solid and binding. Liam’s willingness to officially hold a Marking ceremony with me was a pleasant surprise. But the lack of a proper proposal still left me feeling somewhat disappointed. So I discussed with Liam about at least taking a set of wedding photos before the ceremony. He agreed very reluctantly at the time, constantly complaining that I was being too much trouble. But he didn’t find it troublesome to take photos with Ava? Just then, my phone buzzed with a message from Liam. “Olivia, what do you want for dinner?” I didn’t reply. I took a screenshot of the most intimate photo of him and Ava and posted it on Ins. The caption read: “I’ve decided to let them have each other. Congratulations to my boyfriend Liam and his best friend on their wedding. Blessings!” Liam’s call came through immediately, his tone filled with angry interrogation. “Olivia! What the hell are you doing?! Delete that right now!” “Am I the one going crazy, or are you?” I said. “I already told you, I was just helping Ava out! She said she’d never done it before and wanted to experience what it felt like to wear a wedding dress and take wedding photos! As her best friend, how could I not help?” When I didn’t respond, Liam realized his tone was too harsh. He softened his voice slightly and continued more gently. “You know Ava grew up with us. She still hasn’t found her fated mate, so she wanted to experience it. There’s nothing between us. Don’t be so petty about this.” I thought his words were utterly ridiculous. “I’m being petty? Should I applaud you two sleeping together to be considered generous?!” Liam growled angrily. “Olivia! Watch your mouth! Do you think everyone is as melodramatic as you? Ava has always been straightforward. She’s not as filthy-minded as you!” “Fine, I’m the filthy one. I’ve defiled your sacred friendship.” At that moment, I felt exhausted. “The Marking ceremony is off.” Too tired to argue with him, I hung up the phone directly.

Olivia Summers POV Half an hour later, my apartment door was violently burst open. Liam stormed in, seething with rage. “Olivia!” His eyes were red as he pointed at me. “Explain yourself! What do you mean it’s off?!” I sat on the sofa, not even glancing at him. Liam grew even more furious. “Delete that Ins post right now and go apologize to Ava! Otherwise this ceremony…” He didn’t finish his sentence. I stood up and threw the Marking ceremony contract onto the coffee table in front of him. Liam froze. “What are you doing with that?” I didn’t answer. Right in front of him, I pulled out a page and tore it forcefully. “Are you insane?! Stop!” Liam reacted and tried to grab it. Too late. I didn’t stop. I tore the entire document into pieces, then raised my hand and scattered them. I watched Liam’s stunned expression and told him calmly: “I said the ceremony is off, so this thing is useless now.” Liam was completely shocked by my action. After the shock came humiliation and rage. I heard a low growl rumbling from his throat. I had no doubt he wanted to rush over and bite through my throat. But he wouldn’t. Ryan had told me that werewolves cannot kill their own fated mates. “Fine! Olivia, this is your choice. Don’t you dare regret it!” He just left those harsh words and stormed out, slamming the door violently. Looking at the mess all over the floor, I actually felt relieved. At what point in this relationship did I become so pathetic? My proposal was Liam’s casual remark after dinner: “Get ready, we’ll have the Marking ceremony soon.” All the subsequent preparations were done by me alone. For three years, I kept telling myself “he just doesn’t understand romance.” But those exquisite wedding photos Amy sent completely shattered my lie. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand. He just couldn’t be bothered to make an effort for me. Memories came flooding back. The passenger seat in Liam’s car was always Ava’s, with the excuse that “she doesn’t like sitting in the back.” We’d plan to see a movie, but he’d insist on buying an extra ticket so Ava could sit beside him. Even when Ava went out on missions, he’d follow and accompany her the whole time, leaving me sick and alone in the hospital. And my grievances were always met with just one sentence from Liam: “Why are you so petty?” For three years, I changed too much for Liam, learned to give in too much. It wasn’t love that beat me. It was him and his friend who had no boundaries. Now, I wasn’t going to put up with it anymore. I picked up my phone and started making calls one by one, canceling everything related to the Marking ceremony. “Hello, Amy? Sorry, you don’t need to come tomorrow… Yeah, that woman wasn’t me. It’s okay, it’s not your fault.” “Honey, the Marking ceremony is canceled. You don’t need to come. I can handle it. Just… don’t tell Ryan yet.” With each call I finished, I felt the shackles on me lighten a bit more. Three years of youth wasted on a dog was better than wasting a lifetime. At least there was still time.

Olivia Summers POV After Liam left, my Ins exploded. Ava posted a new update. The images showed several playful selfies of her and Liam in intimate poses. The caption was written casually but dripped with manipulation. “Oops, just wanted to experience taking wedding photos, didn’t expect it to cause some people to misunderstand. Sorry for the trouble, everyone. Guess we’ll just keep being single friends!” Immediately after, my phone started blowing up. The messages came from Liam’s friends, warriors from Frostveil Pack, and they all said virtually the same thing. “Olivia, it was just a joke. Don’t take it seriously.” “Three years together isn’t easy. Delete that Instagram post and give Alpha Liam a way out.” “You know Ava. She’s like one of the guys. Don’t overthink it.” Looking at these messages, I laughed coldly. Everyone stood on their moral high ground, urging me to be magnanimous. I understood now. They were protecting Liam. These people were Liam and Ava’s companions. They were never mine. I didn’t reply to any of them. I opened the messages and found their names, blocking them one after another without hesitation. After clearing out those people, my phone rang again. It was Liam’s mother calling. I answered: “Hello.” On the other end, Liam’s mother spoke with the pressure of an elder: “Olivia, I heard from Liam that you two had a fight. How can you talk about breaking up over a little joke?” “It wasn’t a joke.” “I watched Ava grow up. She’s like a daughter to our family. She and Liam have been playful since childhood. You need to be more understanding.” Liam’s mother’s words were full of excuses for Ava. “As Liam’s future mate and the pack’s future Luna, you need to be more gracious. Be good, delete that Ins post, and we’ll put this behind us. Don’t let everyone laugh at us.” I finally understood where Liam learned his lack of boundaries. Ava’s existence was enabled by them. If I actually ended up with him, just thinking about the future made me feel suffocated. I interrupted her. “This isn’t a joke. It’s a matter of principle. Liam and I have broken up, and that decision won’t change.” Liam’s mother became somewhat displeased. “How can you be so unreasonable? Liam is an alpha. He can do whatever he wants. Does he really need to explain himself to a human like you?” So that was it. I knew that to some werewolves, humans were too weak and looked down upon. But as times changed, most werewolves’ attitudes toward humans had become more moderate. Liam had also assured me that no one would look down on me. But his mother had just personally admitted her discrimination against me. I didn’t want to argue anymore. “Sorry, I have things to do.” I hung up and blocked this number as well.

Olivia Summers POV After hanging up on Liam’s mother, I remembered the wedding dress. It was the main gown I had designed for the Marking ceremony. I’d gone to the studio over a dozen times to work on it myself. Since I’d decided to end things, I needed to deal with it. At least pay the remaining balance or see if I could return it. I took a cab to the haute couture bridal boutique. I had just reached the VIP fitting room door and hadn’t even pushed it open when familiar laughter came from inside. “Wow, Liam, does it look good?” My hand froze on the door handle. That was Ava’s voice. Immediately after, Liam’s voice came, full of affection: “Beautiful! It’s like it was made just for you, Ava. You look gorgeous in a wedding dress.” I shoved the door open. In front of the full-length mirror, Ava was wearing the mermaid-style white gown that should have been mine. Those layers of lace were details I had stayed up late drawing and revising. Now, they were on another woman’s body. Ava stood on her tiptoes and kissed Liam on the lips. And my fated mate Liam didn’t refuse. Sometimes I really wondered if everything I’d learned about werewolves at Moonclaw Pack was fake. Didn’t they say fated mates were destiny arranged by the moon goddess, the existence werewolves valued most? Why could Liam betray me so easily? Hearing the door open, both turned around at the same time. Seeing me, embarrassment flashed across Liam’s face. “Olivia? What are you doing here?” Ava lifted her skirt and came over with an innocent expression. “Olivia, don’t misunderstand. I just thought this wedding dress was too beautiful and couldn’t resist trying it on. Don’t worry, even if I’m wearing the wedding dress, Liam will only Mark you. He’ll only recognize you as his mate.” She twirled, the hem of the dress sweeping past my feet. “Olivia, you don’t mind, right? I’ll only wear it for ten minutes.” I looked at her, then at Liam. “Take it off.” Liam frowned. “Olivia, what are you throwing a fit about now? Ava just wanted to try it on out of curiosity. It’s not like she can damage it.” “This is my wedding dress.” I stared at Liam. “It was custom-made for me. I was supposed to wear it at the Marking ceremony. Liam, do you have any sense of boundaries at all?” “Are you done?” Liam impatiently put down his phone. “Ava is my best friend. It’s just a dress. Is it really worth getting this angry over? At worst, I’ll just give her this wedding dress to use for photos from now on.” Give it to her? I laughed in disbelief. The wedding dress I had custom-made had become, in his mouth, something to make another woman happy. “Oh no, Liam, don’t scold Olivia. It’s all my fault…” Ava looked like she was about to cry and frantically tried to grab my hand. Just then, the cup of bright red strawberry tea in her hand accidentally slipped. The red tea spilled out, most of it splashing onto the white wedding dress. Large dark red stains quickly spread across the snow-white lace. “Ah!” Ava screamed, covering her mouth. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” Liam’s first reaction wasn’t to look at the wedding dress. He grabbed Ava and nervously checked her hands and clothes. “Are you okay? Did you get your clothes dirty?” After confirming Ava was fine, he turned to look at the mess on the floor and frowned at me. “Look what you did. You came here to yell at her and scared Ava so badly she couldn’t even hold her cup. Fine, it’s just some tea stains. Have the staff dry clean it. Don’t make such a big deal out of it.” I looked at the ruined wedding dress, my heart turning cold. “No need to wash it.” I raised my head. “I find dirty things disgusting.” Liam froze. “What do you mean?” I turned and walked straight to the counter, slamming the invoice I hadn’t yet paid the balance for onto the desk. “Manager, I’m not returning this wedding dress. I’ll settle the balance now.” “Since Ava likes it so much and has ruined it, please have Liam pay in full. Liam, didn’t you just say you wanted to give it to her for photos? Pay up.” Liam’s eyes widened. “Olivia, are you insane? This costs hundreds of thousands!” “What’s wrong? Not willing to spend money on your best friend?” I said. “Weren’t you being pretty generous just now?” The staff and customers around us all cast watching eyes, pointing and whispering. Liam couldn’t save face. He gritted his teeth, pulled out his bank card, and slammed it on the desk. “Fine! I’ll pay! It’s just a broken wedding dress! Only you would treat it like a treasure! I’ll buy it and give it to Ava so you can stop being sarcastic here.” The card went through successfully. Ava was still pretending to object on the side. “Liam, it’s too expensive. I can’t accept it…” “Take it!” To save face, Liam’s voice was loud. “Wear it whenever you want from now on!” I nodded, looking at Liam. “Remember what you said today. This wedding dress belongs to you two now.” With that, I walked out of the bridal boutique. Behind me came Liam’s exasperated voice: “Olivia, stop right there! What kind of scene are you making now? You’re getting more and more unreasonable!” I didn’t stop. Tears fell, but I quickly wiped them away.

Olivia Summers POV By the time I got home, it was already evening. I felt cold all over, my stomach sending waves of spasming pain. It might have been from the rage at the bridal shop earlier, combined with not eating all day. My old stomach problem had flared up. When I first arrived at Moonclaw Pack, I was terrified of these savage people who would start a fight over anything. I was afraid I’d become like them. So I tried to stay out of sight. I ate as little as possible. Ideally, I wouldn’t touch their food at all. Until my stepbrother Ryan found me passed out from hunger and took me to the pack’s elderly healer. After that, Ryan started learning how to make human food and supervised my meals every day. But the problem of stomach spasms from not eating had lingered. I just didn’t expect it to relapse at this moment. I forced myself to walk into the bedroom and pulled out my suitcase. I didn’t want to stay in this house for one more minute. I started stuffing my clothes into the case. The twisting pain in my stomach continued. I just wanted to finish packing quickly. Just then, the sound of a key in the lock came from the front door. Liam was back. He was carrying several takeout boxes. Seeing me packing, Liam froze for a moment, then showed an expression of impatience. “What are you making a scene about now? I already bought the wedding dress and paid for it. You’re still not over it? Now you’re running away from home?” In his view, I was purely throwing a tantrum. I had no energy to argue with him. I clutched my stomach and slowly crouched down. “Liam, do you have any medicine? Help me get some water.” Liam walked over with a frown. “Stop acting. You were fine at the store just now. How are you suddenly sick as soon as you get home?” “My stomach hurts. It really hurts…” Liam scoffed. “Come on, Olivia. How many times have you used this trick? Every time we fight, you suddenly don’t feel well. Can’t you come up with something new?” Even though he said this, he still put the takeout on the table and turned to get water. Just then, his phone rang. Liam’s expression changed, and he immediately answered: “Hello, Ava?” From the other end came Ava’s tearful voice: “Liam, there seem to be some rogue wolves near my house. I’m so scared…” Liam’s voice instantly became gentle as he coaxed her patiently: “Don’t be afraid. I’ll be right there!” Liam hung up and rushed toward the door. “Liam…” I lay by the bed, using my last bit of strength to grab the hem of his pants. “I really feel terrible. Take me to the hospital…” Liam stopped and looked down at me. He said impatiently: “Stop pretending!” He shook off my hand forcefully. “There are rogues near Ava’s place. What if something happens to her? You just have a stomachache. There’s stomach medicine in the cabinet. Can’t you take two pills yourself? Do you have to put on this act right now? Even throwing tantrums should have priorities!” With that, he didn’t spare me another glance on the floor and strode out of the bedroom. “Bang!” The door slammed shut. The pain in my stomach felt like it was tearing me apart, but the coldness in my heart was even worse than the pain. I curled up on the floor, tears silently soaking into the carpet. So in Liam’s heart, I really couldn’t compare to Ava. I used to think his neglect of me was because he didn’t understand human physiology. But I suddenly realized that my stepbrother Ryan, also a werewolf, could detect my condition. Tonight I finally understood. I had just been deceiving myself. After a long while. I struggled to get up, rummaged through the drawer for stomach medicine, and dry-swallowed two pills. The bitter taste spread through my mouth. Looking at the empty room, I suddenly laughed. Good thing the Marking ceremony hadn’t happened yet. Liam, since you like being with her so much, then stay with her forever.

Olivia Summers POV Early the next morning, Liam pushed the door open. I sat on the sofa without even glancing at him. Liam changed his shoes while announcing: “Ava’s place isn’t safe lately. She’ll be staying in our guest room for the next few days.” As soon as he finished speaking, Ava poked her head out wearing Liam’s shirt, carrying the bag with the stained wedding dress. “Morning, Olivia! Liam gave me this wedding dress. I’m planning to shorten it into a cocktail dress. You don’t mind, do you?” I glanced at the oversized men’s shirt. It was Liam’s clothes, now worn by another woman. I smiled. “I don’t mind. If you like picking up other people’s unwanted old clothes that much, keep it.” Ava’s expression stiffened. She hadn’t expected me to snap back like that. Liam frowned, scolding me with displeasure: “Olivia, watch your language. It’s just a piece of clothing.” I laughed coldly, too lazy to waste words, and turned back to my room. That evening. A pungent spicy chili aroma came from the living room. Liam came out carrying two bowls of noodles. Ava sat at the table and eagerly took one: “Smells amazing! Liam, you’re so good to me. You knew I wanted to eat this.” Liam placed the other bowl in front of himself and turned to tell me: “You don’t like eating this kind of thing. There’s plain rice porridge in the pot. Help yourself.” Ava ate while sighing: “Poor Olivia, can’t eat such delicious noodles and can only drink tasteless porridge.” I stood in the bedroom doorway, looking at those two polarized dinners, and suddenly laughed. I walked to the dining table and looked at Liam. Liam felt uneasy under my laughter and looked up impatiently: “What are you laughing at?” “Laughing at your poor memory.” I said. “Liam, who told you I was born loving plain rice porridge?” Liam froze, then slammed his utensils on the table: “What are you going crazy about now? Haven’t you been eating like this for three years?” “Yes.” I smiled. “But wasn’t all of this because you said you didn’t like heavily flavored food?” Liam seemed to recall that incident, looking embarrassed. “I… Ava wanted to eat it, so I tried it with her.” Then he suddenly became defensive with embarrassment. “You didn’t want to eat it. Could I force you? Eat it or don’t!” He really couldn’t force me. So I was foolish. That version of me who loved him so much she lost herself. I straightened up and nodded coldly. “You’re right. From now on, I won’t touch anything I don’t like.” With that, I turned to leave. “Stop.” Liam called out to me, switching to a gentler tone: “Jason’s having a gathering tomorrow night at the usual place. You come too.” I paused mid-step, my back to him, saying nothing. Liam thought I was putting on an act, his tone growing more impatient: “Don’t make a scene again. Everyone’s been unhappy these past few days because of the wedding dress thing. Tomorrow when you go, it’ll be a good opportunity to make peace with Ava and we can put this behind us.” As long as I obediently showed up tomorrow and obediently backed down, he’d forgive me for my unreasonable behavior these past few days. Behind me came Ava’s saccharine voice: “That’s right, Olivia. Everyone’s waiting for you. You wouldn’t refuse, would you?” I turned around. I looked at these two, clearly on the same page. “Sure.” I looked at Liam and smiled. Liam frowned, but hearing me agree, he still relaxed a little. “Good. At least you’re being reasonable.” I said nothing more and returned to my room. Go? Of course I’d go. Since I was settling the score for the past three years, how could I forget about those people? I wanted everyone to know exactly what kind of scumbag Liam really was!

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The intimate photos of me and Liam Hunter suddenly went viral throughout the entire company. Each photo was even labeled with a price tag: just ten dollars for a night with me. Only Liam had access to these photos. I had just reached his office door when I heard him laughing on the phone inside. “Nora White is just a pawn I’m using to piss off the Hunters. Once I’m done with her, I’ll throw her away.” “Vivian is the one carrying my child. She’s the one I’m going to marry.” I broke up with him on the spot, but all I got in return was a resounding slap across my face. He even released our sex tape. In just one day, I became the laughingstock of the entire company. The “woman who sold her body.” The moment my heart died, I opened the reply email from Liam’s rival law firm. “I accept your offer. On one condition: help me deal with that bastard Liam Hunter.” The phone rang almost instantly. That man’s low chuckle came through, his voice magnetic and dangerous. “Baby, you’re finally willing to leave that scumbag? Now, can I pursue you?”

Nora White POV I was a lawyer who had been recruited directly by Kingsley Law Firm. I had no background, no connections, just a score that ranked first in the state bar exam and top performance for two consecutive years since joining. Because I was poor, because I came from a small town, I didn’t fit in with the people around me. Behind my back, my colleagues called me a tool. Strong professional abilities, but not one of them. Then one afternoon, someone anonymously posted a document to the firm’s internal work group chat and tagged everyone. The title read: “The Secret to Miss White’s Rise to the Top: Every Step Has a Price Tag.” The document was meticulously crafted, with neat formatting and a combination of images and text. It listed chronologically everything I had received since dating Liam. The limited edition handbag he gave me on our first date: eighty-six thousand dollars. The presidential suite he booked the first night we spent together: twenty-three thousand dollars per night. The monthly living expenses he transferred to my account: fifty thousand dollars. Every single item had a screenshot, a price tag, accurate to two decimal places. And at the bottom was a set of photos. These were photos Liam said he wanted to take that belonged only to the two of us after we got together. I had hesitated for a long time before agreeing. Now these photos had been cropped and spliced together, arranged at the end of the document with a line of text below: “Full version available. DM for access. Two hundred dollars per set.” The moment the document was posted, it exploded throughout the entire firm. In less than ten minutes, even the chat groups in neighboring departments were circulating it. I stared at the screen, my ears filled with nothing but ringing. I had returned all of these things. I had the receptionist send back the handbag the very next day, and I returned every single transfer. He knew I wouldn’t accept them. So later he changed his approach, buying things and placing them directly on my desk or at my apartment door, making it impossible for me to return them. But the document only showed screenshots of what I received. Not a single record of what I returned. The voices of several female colleagues leaked through the half-open door of the break room. “So that’s how she became number one in performance.” “Mr. Hunter personally led her through projects, funneling all the resources her way. Who wouldn’t be number one?” “Did you see those last few photos? Tsk, I really didn’t expect that. Usually she walks around with that cold face like everyone owes her money, but behind closed doors she’s quite open.” “Come on, that’s called investment. Didn’t you see how high the return rate was?” The laughter wasn’t deliberately suppressed. Iit even carried a kind of intentional casualness. I stood outside the door holding my water cup, the surface of the water trembling slightly. I didn’t go in. When I turned to leave, my cheeks burned fiercely, but my steps didn’t falter. Those photos, transfer records, hotel bookings, no one except Liam himself could have obtained them. I walked straight toward Liam’s office. Before I could push the door open, my hand froze on the handle. The door wasn’t fully closed, and voices from inside leaked through the gap. It was Liam on the phone with someone, on speakerphone. “The document spread! Everyone at Kingsley has seen it. Nora White is completely finished now. The partner nomination is definitely over.” “But that’s not even the worst part. She still doesn’t know that you only pursued her to use her as a stepping stone. You never really looked at her, never even touched her. If she found out, she’d probably collapse on the spot.” “But then again, the Hunters and the Whitlocks are bitter enemies. If you want to be with Miss Whitlock, you’ll definitely have to go through some trouble.” The person on the other end of the phone spoke in a frivolous tone with laughter in their voice. “Didn’t you promise Nora you’d take her to meet your parents next week? Are you really planning to keep up the act?” Liam’s voice came through the door, unhurried. “Of course it’s an act. The Hunters won’t let me marry Vivian, so I’ll bring home a woman who doesn’t meet their standards and see where that leaves them.” “Once they give in and approve Vivian, this pawn will have served her purpose.” I stood outside the door, completely still. My blood seemed to freeze all at once. The cold spread from my fingertips to my limbs, then lodged in my chest, making even breathing painful. So from beginning to end, I was just a pawn. Him holding an umbrella for me in the rain was fake. Him showing up on time at my office every day when I worked late was fake. When everyone else ignored me, the fact that he was the only one to sit beside me, that was fake too. All of it was fake. I released the door handle and took a step back. I don’t know how I made it back to my workstation. The way people around me looked at me had completely changed, from two years of disdain to naked contempt. Some even couldn’t hold back a laugh in my direction. I didn’t look at anyone. I sat down and opened my computer, clicking into my email. At the top of my inbox was an email from two weeks ago, from a top-tier law firm in London. They had seen my case report at an international arbitration conference and reached out with an invitation. The annual salary was five times what I currently made, with a full relocation allowance included. I had looked at this email many times but never replied. Because I couldn’t bear to leave. I couldn’t bear to leave Liam. I stared at that email on the screen for a long time. The office lights were blindingly white, and people were still whispering in the hallway. I moved my cursor to the reply button. My finger hovered for three seconds. Then I clicked.

Nora White POV I then picked up my phone and sent a message to my direct supervisor, Simon Yale. “Simon, I’ve decided to resign. I’ll leave next week.” The reply came quickly. “I respect your decision. I’ll help you with the resignation process. It’s a shame, though. The firm was planning to promote you to the youngest senior partner. The management committee already passed the initial review.” Senior partner. The thing I had fought desperately for two years at Kingsley to achieve. I stared at that line of text for a few seconds, then typed a reply. “Thank you.” Then I scrolled through my phone’s contact list and found a number that had only called me once, one I had never dialed myself. Liam’s mother, Sophia Chambers. Three months ago, Liam took me to the Hunter family home for dinner for the first time. Throughout the meal, Sophia was polite but distant. Afterward, she called me alone to the study, told me I wasn’t suitable for Liam, and said I should leave sooner rather than later. She even offered me money. I refused on the spot. Sophia said nothing more, just left me a phone number. Now, I dialed it. “But I agree to break up with him.” There were two seconds of silence on the other end, then Sophia laughed, the kind of laugh that saw through everything with disdain. “I’ll give you five million dollars. I’ll send the check to your company.” “No need.” The call had already ended. I gripped my phone. I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes for a moment. Liam’s voice filled my head. “This pawn will have served her purpose.” But I didn’t want to believe it. I still remembered the night I first met Liam. I had just joined the firm three months earlier and taken on a rotten case no one else wanted to touch. The defendant was a local real estate developer with connections, and the plaintiffs were a group of workers whose construction payments had been withheld. Everyone advised me not to take it. Even if I did, I couldn’t win. Even if I won, I’d make enemies. I took it anyway. For two straight weeks I lived in the office, sleeping only four hours a day. The rest of the time I spent combing through case files, searching for evidence, and writing legal briefs. One night at three in the morning, I couldn’t hold on anymore and fell asleep at the conference table. When I woke up, there was a jacket draped over my shoulders and a still-warm cup of coffee on the table. Sitting beside me was a man I’d never seen before, flipping through the case files I had spread out. “Your case, the breakthrough isn’t in breach of contract. It’s in the money trail.” He didn’t look up, just pointed at a page in the file. “Follow this line and you’ll find their off-the-books accounts.” I was stunned. I looked at the file and realized the loophole he’d pointed out was something I’d missed after two weeks of searching. “Who are you?” The man looked up. Under the lights, his features were sharp, his eyes carrying a kind of casual coolness. “Liam Hunter.” Later I learned that this man who had guided me through a case at three in the morning was the only son of Kingsley’s founding partner, Richard Hunter. After that, Liam began appearing frequently in my work life. He’d bring me late-night snacks when I worked overtime. When I didn’t eat them, he’d leave them at the corner of my desk, and when they got cold he’d replace them with fresh ones. He’d block me from the firm’s obligatory drinking parties. When everyone else avoided me, he would casually sit in the empty seat beside me, open a case file, and say he wanted to look at my case. I refused him many times. I knew what my status was, and I was clear about the distance between us. But Liam didn’t care. He never gave expensive gifts, at least not at first. He gave me band-aids because my new shoes gave me blisters. He gave me a voice recorder because I always forgot details from court hearings. He gave me a folding umbrella because I never checked the weather forecast. They were all inconspicuous little things, but each one precisely met a need of mine. So when he asked me seriously one more time if I’d give him a chance, I nodded. Clearly, all I ever wanted was him as a person, not his money. But now I knew. Even him as a person was fake. I opened my eyes. The office was nearly empty now, and the lights in the hallway were going out one by one. I stood up to gather my things from the desk, preparing to leave. I pushed open the office door, and suddenly the safety stairwell door at the end of the hallway burst open. A man stumbled out, his suit rumpled, reeking of alcohol, holding up his phone with my photo displayed on the screen. “It’s you.” The man squinted as he looked me up and down, the corner of his mouth twisting upward. “Miss White, you’re prettier in person than in the photos.” I took a step back. “Who are you?” The man grinned, his steps unsteady as he closed in on me, grabbing my wrist. “Don’t be nervous. If you can sell your photos, surely you won’t cost more than the photos, right? Name your price. I can afford it.” His grip was strong, causing a sharp pain in my wrist. I struggled hard but couldn’t break free. Just as I was about to kick him, a hand reached from the side, grabbed the man by his collar, and yanked him backward. Then came a dull thud. Liam’s fist slammed into the man’s face with enough force to knock him to the ground. Blood immediately gushed from his nose. He kicked the man. “Get lost.” His voice wasn’t loud, but it was as cold as ice. The man covered his face and scrambled away. Liam turned around and looked at my wrist. Red marks had already surfaced. He frowned and reached out to examine it. “Why are you still at the office this late? Does it hurt? I’ll take you-” I pulled my hand back. I looked at the face in front of me. The same concern as always, the same tenderness as always, the same… perfectly timed response as always. Perfectly timed enough to make me believe he actually cared about me. “Nora? Still angry about the document?” Liam’s tone softened. “I didn’t send that document. I lent my phone to a friend for a few days. He went too far sometimes. I already scolded him and I’m having people delete it.” “Liam.” I interrupted him. My voice was so soft that the echo in the hallway was louder than my own voice. “Let’s break up.” Liam’s expression froze for an instant. Before he could speak, the elevator door at the other end of the hallway opened. Vivian Whitlock walked out. She wore a white dress today, her long hair falling over her shoulders, holding a bouquet of flowers. Seeing Liam and me standing face to face, her steps suddenly halted. The bouquet slipped from her hands. “Liam… you and her…” Her voice trembled, tears immediately welling up in her eyes. “Are you two really together?” Before she could finish, she turned and ran into the stairwell. Liam’s expression changed. He glanced at me once, then turned and chased after her. As he passed me, his shoulder slammed heavily into mine, causing me to stumble back two steps. My back hit the wall. I didn’t cry out in pain. I slowly steadied myself and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window at the end of the hallway. Below was the firm’s courtyard garden. In the night, the streetlights stretched two people’s shadows very long. Liam grabbed Vivian’s wrist, rain falling on his shoulders. He seemed oblivious to it. “Yes, the Hunters and Whitlocks are enemies. So what? Even if it means defying the entire Hunter family, even if the whole world opposes it, I only want you.” Vivian looked up, tears and rain mixing together. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his lips. Liam cupped her face with both hands and kissed her back forcefully. I stood at the window, looking down at this scene. I returned to my apartment, took a shower, and lay in bed. I didn’t sleep all night.

Nora White POV The next day, I went to the firm as usual. When I walked into the office area, the atmosphere was wrong. A group of people surrounded my workstation, talking over each other. When they saw me approaching, the crowd fell silent for a second, then someone whistled. “Miss White, another deposit today? A check for five million dollars.” My steps halted. I pushed through the crowd. An envelope sat on my desk. It had already been opened. Inside was a check from the Hunter family’s exclusive account. Amount: five million dollars. It was from Sophia Chambers. Before I could reach for it, the check was snatched away by a male colleague nearby. He held it up to look at it, then passed it to the next person. “Who gave you permission to touch my things?” My voice was very low. No one paid attention to me. The check passed between several people’s hands, and every time I reached for it, I couldn’t get it. Those people were a full head taller than me, and their passing motion even carried a kind of playful coordination. A female colleague tilted her head to look at me, her tone rising. “Miss White, shouldn’t you update the price list in your document? The market’s going up.” Another person chimed in. “No wonder she wants to break up with Mr. Hunter. Turns out she found a higher bidder.” “You’re all overthinking it. She’s just holding out for the best price.” “Enough!” I practically shouted these two words. I never lost my composure in front of others. But now, my whole body was shaking. My throat felt like something was stuck in it, my voice hoarse and tight. The surroundings fell quiet for a second. Then came laughter that couldn’t be suppressed. “All right, everyone back to work.” At some point, the administrative supervisor had walked over, frowning as she dispersed the onlookers. I stood in front of my workstation, fists clenched, nails digging into my palms. I had to get that check back and return it to Sophia. That afternoon, I finally cornered the colleague who had taken the check in the hallway. Just as I was about to get it back, a familiar voice came from behind me. “Looking for this?” I turned around and met Liam’s dark gaze. The check was pinched between his fingers, already creased. “So you said you wanted to break up with me because of this money?” His voice was very soft, close to my ear, like a blade cutting across skin. I shook my head. “No, this money I never even-” A slap landed on my face. Several colleagues passing by all stopped in their tracks. Liam’s eyes were cold to the extreme, but a smile hung at the corner of his mouth. “Nora, I didn’t think your appetite was this big. A small-town lawyer with a humble background, this face of yours is really worth a fortune.” I covered my cheek, half my face burning. I opened my mouth, wanting to say that the money was from your mother… “I heard Miss White’s family still has quite a bit of debt?” Vivian had somehow walked to Liam’s side, her tone as gentle as if chatting about everyday matters. “Your father is a high school teacher in a small town with limited income, and he had to put you through law school. It really wasn’t easy.” Every word was fact. Every word was a knife. Liam looked down at the check in his hand, then raised his hand and threw it at my face. The thin piece of paper stuck to my cheek for a second before sliding to the ground. “I will recommend that the management committee conduct a financial audit of all cases you’ve handled.” His voice had no fluctuation. “People who practice law can’t have dirty hands.” Vivian added at the right moment. “This is for your own good. The innocent will be proven innocent.” The two of them turned and left side by side. A few passing colleagues slowed their pace, their eyes sweeping back and forth between me and the check on the ground. I bent down to pick up the check. My hands were shaking, but my movements were slow and steady. That afternoon, an announcement was posted on the firm’s internal system. My case representation authority was suspended, and an internal audit of all case accounts I had handled would begin immediately. I stood in front of the bulletin board, hands clenched into fists. Without case representation authority, I couldn’t appear in court, couldn’t sign documents, couldn’t access any case files. For a lawyer, this was no different from being crippled. And even worse, without representation authority, there was no performance commission. My current monthly income went toward student loan repayments, rent, and living expenses I sent to my father. If this money stopped, I couldn’t even survive in this city. Someone passed behind me, their voice neither loud nor soft. “An audit? I think it’s just for show. Everyone already saw what needed to be found.” “Right? She made so much money and still pretended to be poor. She also applied for quite a few of the firm’s pro bono case subsidies, didn’t she?” “Tsk, what kind of person.” I didn’t turn around. I stared at that announcement, reading it word by word, then turned and walked back to my workstation. I opened my computer and began writing an email. The recipient was the firm’s management committee. I would compile every transfer record I’d returned, every gift list I’d sent back, every complete financial record of cases I’d handled, and list them out one by one. Not to show anyone. But because I, Nora White, had nothing to feel guilty about to anyone.

Nora White POV Before the appeal email received a response from the management committee, I received even worse news. Simon Yale came to find me personally. “Nora, come to the conference room for a moment.” His expression was much more serious than usual, and as he walked ahead, he didn’t say a single unnecessary word. I followed him into the large conference room. Three senior partners sat at the other end of the long table. One of them was the management committee chairman, Vincent Pearson, the person who truly called the shots at Kingsley. A stack of documents lay in front of him, his gaze sharp. Vivian was also there, sitting in the corner with slightly red eyes, looking like she’d been wronged but was trying hard to hold it in. “Nora White, sit.” Vincent spoke, his tone flat but without pleasantries. “Yesterday, DuRay Corporation’s legal representatives formally sent us a letter stating that someone inside Kingsley leaked core evidentiary materials from the DuRay case to the opposing party. This case involves over eight hundred million dollars.” He pushed up his glasses. “We retrieved the backend records from the document management system. The last two people to access the DuRay case electronic files were you and Vivian Whitlock.” I sat up straight. The DuRay case was my most important project over the past six months. Most of the work, from filing to evidence collection to drafting the brief, was done by me. Vivian was brought in midway to assist, nominally responsible for client liaison. “Mr. Pearson, the last time I opened the case files was last Thursday. Simon assigned me to organize the data for the closing statement.” My speaking pace was measured. “That day my work records, email correspondence, and system logs can all prove that after I finished organizing, I logged out of the system. If needed, Simon can confirm this.” Simon nodded. “I can confirm that I assigned her that work that day.” Vincent’s gaze slowly moved to Vivian. “Miss Whitlock, what about you? Last Friday afternoon between three and five o’clock, you accessed all of the DuRay case electronic files. Please explain why.” Vivian’s lips trembled slightly, and she was about to speak. The conference room door was pushed open. Liam walked in. His expression was cold, as if attending an unimportant routine meeting. “Mr. Pearson, there’s no need to investigate further.” He walked to Vivian’s side, facing Vincent, and placed a USB drive on the table. “I found this USB drive in Nora White’s drawer yesterday. It contains the exact files that were leaked from the DuRay case.” What! My drawer?! There had never been any USB drive in my drawer. “Also.” Liam took out the creased check from his pocket and gently placed it next to the USB drive. “This is the five million dollar check Nora White received the day before yesterday. Everyone in the firm saw it.” He tilted his head slightly to glance at me, his gaze as calm as if looking at a stranger. “A lawyer whose representation authority has been suspended suddenly receives a large sum of money from an unknown source. Mr. Pearson, do you think this is a coincidence?” I stood up. “That USB drive isn’t mine, and that money wasn’t payment for any transaction.” “Miss White.” Vivian spoke softly, her voice carrying a trace of grievance and reluctance. “I don’t want to wrongly accuse you, but… when I accessed the system that day, I was only recording client follow-up notes. I didn’t copy anything. If it wasn’t me, then it could only be…” She didn’t finish, lowering her head. But the meaning was clear enough. Several voices came from the doorway. At some point, people had gathered outside the conference room. “I saw it. Miss White did bring a USB drive back last week. I thought it was strange at the time. Isn’t all the DuRay case material in the system?” “Plus her financial situation hasn’t been great lately, right? Her representation authority was suspended, her performance went to zero, and I heard her family still has loans to repay…” “She accepted a five million dollar check. What wouldn’t she do?” Vincent was silent for a few seconds. Then he closed the file in front of him, his voice heavy. “Nora, until the matter is investigated, the firm has decided to suspend our internal recommendation for your professional certification. This incident will be recorded in your practice file.” My heart skipped a beat. A lawyer’s practice file was my lifeline. Once I was marked with suspected leaking of client confidential information, I’d never be able to establish myself at any legitimate law firm for the rest of my life! “Mr. Pearson, I request a full review of the system operation logs and surveillance footage.” “The investigation will proceed according to protocol.” Vincent interrupted me. “In the meantime, go back and wait for notification.” His tone no longer held the neutrality from the beginning. I looked at Vincent, then at Vivian sitting in the corner with downcast eyes, and finally at Liam. He didn’t avoid my gaze. There was even an extremely faint curve at the corner of his mouth.

Nora White POV I left through the back door of the conference room. I leaned against the wall for a while, until my legs no longer felt weak, then slowly walked forward. I bought a bottle of water at the convenience store downstairs, sat on the steps by the roadside, opened the cap, and took a sip. Then I pulled out my phone. There was a message from Simon. “Nora, I believe you, but the Hunter family put pressure on this. Vincent Pearson can’t stand up to them. Don’t worry, I’ll help you figure out a way to pull the surveillance footage and logs.” I replied. “Thank you.” Then I scrolled to my chat window with Liam. The last message stopped three days ago. He had sent it. “I’ll pick you up after work tomorrow. Let’s go to that restaurant you said was pretty good last time.” I never replied to that message. And I didn’t plan to reply now. I closed my phone, sat on the steps, and stared at the trees lining the street across the road for a long time. I thought of the day my father sent me to this city. The bus ride took nearly eight hours. My father helped me load my suitcase onto the bus, stood outside the window, and waved at me on his tiptoes. He wasn’t good with words. After thinking for a long time, he only said one thing. “Nora, Dad doesn’t have much ability. From now on, you’ll have to rely on yourself. When you run into trouble, don’t be afraid. The sky won’t fall.” I lowered my head and took a deep breath. Then I stood up, patted the dust off my pants, and walked back to the firm. When I reached my workstation, Liam was already waiting for me. He leaned against the edge of my desk, hands in his pockets, posture relaxed. Seeing me return, he raised an eyebrow. “Cooled off yet?” I didn’t look at him. I walked around him, sat in my chair, and opened my computer. Liam frowned, his voice lowering. “About the DuRay case, don’t take it to heart. You know what Vincent is like. It’s just going through the motions. He won’t really do anything to you.” My fingers stopped on the keyboard. “You know full well that USB drive isn’t mine.” “You also know full well that check was from your mother.” I looked up at him. Liam’s expression stiffened for an instant. So brief. Too brief to truly capture. But my eyes had seen too many witnesses’ microexpressions in court. I saw it clearly. He knew. He knew everything. “Vivian needs the credit from the DuRay case project to compete for a partner seat.” Liam’s voice returned to calm. “You’ve already decided to leave anyway. This project is meaningless to you now. Sign a voluntary transfer statement and give your signature rights and project results to her.” I looked at him. The person in front of me had blocked drinks for me, covered me with his jacket, and found the breakthrough in my case in a conference room at three in the morning. This same person had personally placed a USB drive that didn’t belong to me on the table in the conference room, using a check I never intended to accept to nail me to the pillar of shame for selling client secrets. “I won’t sign.” I said. Liam stared at me for a few seconds. The corner of his mouth twitched slightly, as if he wanted to say something. In the end, he just straightened up, adjusted his cuffs, and left. I thought that was the end of it. If I didn’t sign, what could he do? I was leaving next week, flying to London, and would have nothing to do with anything here. But I was wrong.That night, my phone rang. It was my uncle Mike calling. “Nora! Something happened to your dad! Heart attack! The town hospital can’t handle it. He needs to be transferred immediately! The doctor said the surgery will cost at least three hundred thousand dollars!” I sat up too quickly from the bed. My vision went black. “Tell the hospital to save him no matter what it costs. I’ll figure out the money right away.” “Figure it out?” Mike’s voice suddenly shot up. “Nora, your dad received an envelope today! It was full of your… those… photos! And some kind of invoice! Your dad couldn’t handle it on the spot and…” His voice choked. “Nora, your dad saw those things and couldn’t take it. He collapsed. If you have the money, send it over quickly. The hospital is pressing hard…” It felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over my head.

Nora White POV Who sent the photos and an invoice? I thought Liam had deleted the document before, but those photos were still saved on his phone. He could use them however he wanted. And the letter was sent to my hometown. Only Liam knew my hometown address. My hands were shaking, but I still dialed Liam’s number. It rang for a long time before he answered. “You’re the one who sent it, aren’t you.” There were two seconds of silence on the other end, then Liam’s unhurried voice. “Come to your senses? Then come to the office tomorrow.” He hung up. I gripped my phone, standing in the cramped living room of my rental apartment. Outside the window were the lights of this city that would never go out. Three hundred thousand dollars. My bank account held less than twenty thousand. With my representation authority suspended, I had no income. I still owed sixty thousand dollars in student loans and had maxed out eight thousand dollars on my credit card last month. Three hundred thousand dollars, where could I possibly get it? Early the next morning, Nora White appeared at Kingsley Law Firm. Liam was waiting for me in his office. Vivian sat on the sofa holding a cup of coffee. When she saw me come in, she even smiled slightly. A document lay on the desk. “Sign this voluntary project credit transfer statement, apologize, and I’ll handle the money.” Liam’s tone was like he was discussing an insignificant business deal. I stood in place, looking at that document. The DuRay case was something I’d poured six months of my heart into. This case was my entire proof of existence at Kingsley. If I signed, I’d be completely erasing myself from this case, as if I’d never participated at all. But my father was lying in a hospital. “Lend me three hundred thousand dollars. I’ll sign.” Liam’s expression shifted. “Three hundred thousand dollars?” He laughed lightly. “Nora White, bow and apologize to Vivian, and I’ll give you five hundred thousand.” The air fell silent for a second. Vivian sat on the sofa holding her coffee, the curve of her mouth unchanged. I stared into Liam’s eyes. When he said these words, his expression showed no fluctuation whatsoever. Thinking of my father’s condition, I couldn’t wait any longer. I bent at the waist. “I’m sorry.” I looked at Vivian. Vivian lowered her head and sighed softly, looking full of pity. “Nora, why go this far? Get up.” I didn’t move. I took the document from the desk, flipped directly to the last page, and signed my name. Then I stood up. I stood very straight. “When will the money arrive?” Liam looked at me. His gaze grew complex for an instant, then returned to coldness. He picked up his phone and operated it for a moment. “The five hundred thousand is transferred.” My phone vibrated. I didn’t look at it. I turned and walked toward the door. When I reached the doorway, Vivian’s soft voice came from behind me. “Liam, thank you. Actually, I’ve been too embarrassed to say this, but the DuRay case really was a project I put a lot of effort into following up on.” Liam’s cold voice interrupted her. “You don’t need to explain to me. I’ve seen your hard work. As for Nora-” He paused. “Someone who can sell anything doesn’t deserve your concern.” The door closed behind me. I thought my heart had already died last night when I received Mike’s call. I didn’t expect it could be stabbed again. Walking out of the law firm building, I pulled out my phone. Five hundred thousand had arrived. I transferred three hundred thousand to Mike with a message. “Use this money for my dad’s surgery. Please.” The remaining two hundred thousand, along with all the previous medical bills, I transferred down to the last cent to the Hunter family’s corporate account. Then I bought a ticket on the earliest train back to my hometown. Four and a half hours later, I stood outside the ICU door at the hospital. Mike leaned against the hallway wall, his hair seeming to have turned white overnight. When he saw me arrive, he opened his mouth and his eyes immediately reddened. “Nora… your dad… he didn’t make it.” My body swayed. I barely managed to stay standing. I was still too late! I didn’t cry. It was just that all sounds disappeared in that instant. The world became silent. I spent one day handling my father’s funeral arrangements. I buried my father next to my mother. I stayed in front of the tombstone for a long time. When the sun had half-set, I cried. “Dad, I’m sorry.” “I couldn’t give you a good life.” “I have to go now. I’ll come back to see you.” Mike stood not far away. After hesitating for a long time, he walked over. “Nora, I burned all the stuff your dad received for you. I’ll explain things to the townspeople. Don’t take it to heart.” I nodded at him and said thank you. My voice was already hoarse. That evening, I returned to my rental apartment. I canceled my phone number. I canceled my bank card. I deleted all my social media accounts. Finally, I opened my closet and packed all the things Liam had given me, a windbreaker, two scarves, a pair of headphones, into a cardboard box, wrote the Hunter family address on it, and placed it by the door. I’d have it picked up by courier tomorrow. Then I picked up my luggage and called a car to the airport. My flight was in the early morning hours, heading to London. After arriving at the airport, I had no nostalgia whatsoever. I smoothly passed through security and boarded the plane. I sat by the window. As the plane took off, the city lights grew smaller and smaller, finally becoming a blur of light. I turned my face toward the window, my forehead pressed against the cold porthole. From this moment on, all that remained between Liam Hunter and me was hatred and enmity.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “394876”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

Late at night, my husband Ethan once again snuck into the bedroom of his deceased brother’s wife. Shameful moans spilled through the crack in the door. My heart twisted as if a knife was being driven through it. I once thought I’d married into happiness. Three years ago, I was kidnapped and nearly violated by a dozen men. It was Ethan who risked his life to save me. In that moment, I was moved to tears, and I chose to marry him. It wasn’t until two days ago that I learned the truth. The kidnapping was orchestrated by him. The knife wound he received while saving me was all calculated. Marrying me, doting on me, getting me pregnant. It was all to protect his beloved Lydia. It was all because his forbidden love with Lydia wasn’t supported by the family. Our three years of love was nothing but a lie. If that’s how it is, don’t blame me for what comes next. Sophia’s POV I am San Diego’s most well-behaved socialite, a recognized model lady in high society circles. I was so obedient growing up that I’d never even held a man’s hand. But my family insisted I marry the most infamous bad boy, Ethan. Rumors said he could go through three different women in a week, racing cars and yachts every night, living a life of complete debauchery. This man was definitely not husband material. So I made the only rebellious decision of my twenty-three-year life. The night before our engagement, I ran away. But fate played a cruel joke on me. I fled the arranged marriage, only to be kidnapped halfway by my family’s enemies. Just as my clothes were being torn off and I was about to be violated by a dozen men, the warehouse door was smashed open from outside. Ethan drove a black sports car straight in. He got out and fought over a dozen burly men. Eventually he drove them all away, but he was also severely injured. A blade pierced his left chest. He collapsed in a pool of blood, struggling to crawl to my side and untie the ropes binding me. I tore off the hem of my shirt and pressed it trembling against the wound on his chest. “Why did you come to save me?” “Because you’re my fiancée.” He coughed up blood, his devastatingly handsome face pale from blood loss. “Even though… you didn’t seem too willing.” My tears surged out, falling one by one. “I’m sorry. If I hadn’t tried to run away from the marriage, you wouldn’t have been dragged into this and injured…” Ethan reached out and wiped away my tears with his thumb. “Don’t cry.” He said, “It was my fault before, too many scandals, too bad a reputation… and you’re so good, so pure. No wonder you wanted to run.” “But don’t be afraid… from now on, they won’t force you anymore, won’t pressure you into this marriage… you’re free now, you can go anywhere, marry whoever you want…” In that moment, my heart was like a lake struck by a massive stone, rippling with countless waves. My heart was moved. “I won’t run anymore.” I held him tightly, tears rolling uncontrollably. “Ethan, I won’t run anymore. As long as you’re okay, I’m willing to marry you!” Fortunately, the ambulance arrived in time. The doctor said he was lucky: the blade missed his heart by two centimeters. He was saved. After he recovered and was discharged, I followed my heart and married him. After marriage, Ethan reined in his wild ways. No more women around him. He spoiled me endlessly. He was so good to me. So good that if I scraped my skin even a little, he’d hold it tenderly and blow on it for ages. So good that to avoid making me angry, he replaced all his secretaries and drivers with men. So good that he’d always come home by ten o’clock at night, earning teasing from his friends about being “henpecked.” And Ethan would always respond happily, with pride and affection, “My Sophia is a treasure that countless men would beg for and never get. That she’s willing to marry me is my blessing.” Every time I heard him say this to others, I felt that marrying him was the most correct decision I’d ever made. Until this prenatal checkup, seven weeks into my pregnancy. Ethan had an important client he couldn’t reschedule. I went to the checkup alone, and seeing it was still early, I stopped by his company wanting to wait for him to get off work so we could go home together. Learning he was meeting a client in the conference room, I didn’t have the secretary notify him. I went into his office and found a magazine to read in the private rest room. Ever since getting pregnant, I’d become especially drowsy. Without realizing it, I fell asleep on the single bed in the rest room. I woke to the sound of loud conversation from the office. “Tsk, aren’t you the gold standard for good husbands in our circle now? Your wife had such an important prenatal checkup today, yet you dared make up an excuse to hang out with us here? Aren’t you afraid she’ll make you sleep in the study when she finds out?” A burst of knowing laughter followed. It was Ethan and his group of friends chatting. I smiled slightly. Knowing this group made boundless jokes in private, I didn’t mind. I got up, about to open the rest room door and go out, when I heard Ethan laugh shortly, his voice carrying a cold mockery I’d never heard before. “A good husband?” Ethan scoffed. “Marrying Sophia, getting her pregnant with this child. None of it was ever my choice. I was forced into all of it.” My hand froze on the doorknob, my fingertips trembling imperceptibly. What did he mean by that? What did he mean, he was forced? Another friend said incredulously, “What are you talking about? Who in San Diego could force you?” “Who else?” One friend who knew the inside story said, “His grandfather! Have you all forgotten that punishment three years ago that left him bedridden for half a month?” The others exchanged glances, their expressions changing. “All these years, I acted like a jerk: racing cars, changing girlfriends, constant scandals. I thought if I did that, Grandfather wouldn’t think I still had feelings for Lydia.” Ethan laughed at himself bitterly, then his tone grew heavy. “But three years ago, he still caught me and Lydia together.” Lydia… Lydia Hayes? How could it be her? My breath caught. I could barely stand. Lydia Hayes, his deceased brother’s wife. He was actually with his own brother’s wife? A massive sense of absurdity crashed over me. I suddenly felt my stomach churning with nausea. “When grandfather saw me with Lydia, he thought we were disgraceful. He said she was disgusting, that I’d betrayed my brother. But Lydia and I were together first. It was my brother who tore us apart.” In the office, Ethan’s words continued. “But Grandfather wouldn’t listen to explanations. He was furious and severely punished Lydia. I got beaten too, but that wasn’t the worst of it.” He paused, then his tone turned ice cold. “The problem was, Grandfather used Lydia to threaten me. He said if I didn’t marry Sophia, Lydia’s days in the Quinn family would only get worse.” “So you married Sophia for Lydia’s sake?” Someone said with a sigh. “We all thought you’d long since moved on from her and fallen for Sophia. Otherwise, why would you have stepped up three years ago to save her, nearly dying from your injuries?” The friend who knew the inside story laughed knowingly. “You don’t know the whole story. The kidnapping Sophia went through three years ago, he orchestrated the entire thing.” “No way! That kidnapping was your setup?” Ethan was silent for a moment, his voice low. “Yes.” Hearing that affirmative word, my fingers dug sharply into my palm, nails piercing flesh, but I didn’t care.

Sophia’s POV Ethan continued slowly, “You all know how stubborn my grandfather is. He valued Sophia’s family background, appreciated how well-behaved she was. He said she was pure and innocent, the perfect choice for my wife.” He paused, flicking cigarette ash, that red glow flickering at his fingertips. “But she didn’t want to marry a notorious bad boy like me, and Grandfather was pressuring me hard. I had no other options.” “So you arranged that whole scene?” Someone asked. “Yeah.” Ethan admitted it readily. “I knew she was going to run from the marriage, so I contacted her family’s enemies and set up that situation. The knife was angled to miss by two centimeters, the ambulance was already waiting outside. Everything was calculated.” He laughed shortly, the sound devoid of warmth. “I didn’t expect her to actually cry like that when I collapsed, holding me and saying she’d marry me.” Everyone exchanged glances, momentarily speechless. “Brilliant!” Someone was the first to react. “That plan not only satisfied your grandfather but made Sophia completely devoted to you. Two birds with one stone!” Ethan crushed out his cigarette, his voice heavy. “This stays between us. She’s carrying my child now. If word gets to her…” “Don’t worry, which of us would tell?” “Exactly. This secret dies with us.” “But,” someone hesitated, “Do you really have no feelings for Sophia at all now? She’s carrying your child…” Ethan didn’t answer immediately. After a long pause, he finally spoke, his tone as calm as if discussing something unrelated to himself. “Lydia lives every day walking on eggshells. I promised to protect her, that I wouldn’t fall for another woman.” Inside the rest room, I felt completely frozen, like I’d been cast into hell. I covered my mouth tightly with one hand to keep from making a sound, the other clenched into a fist, knuckles white. So that was it. He conspired with the Hayes family’s enemies to kidnap me, nearly having me violated, then appeared at the crucial moment to stage that dramatic rescue. All his tenderness, consideration, and doting on me, including his supposed reformation, was fake. Those moments that moved my heart, those times I thought were sweet and happy, were all just an elaborate act he performed. And the purpose was to protect the woman he truly loved from being mistreated. He never loved me from the beginning, yet I was foolish enough to be deceived for three years, only discovering today just how many lies he’d woven for me. Countless emotions surged like a tide, nearly drowning me. When I came back to my senses, the office outside had gone quiet. Ethan and his friends had left. I wiped away my tears forcefully, took a deep breath, and pushed down all the anger, resentment, and the dull, knife-like pain in my chest before pulling open the rest room door. Outside was completely empty. I left Quinn Corporation and hailed a car to a law firm. “Hello, I want a divorce.” I found a divorce attorney and said directly, “Please draft a divorce agreement for me.” I was going to divorce Ethan. I would no longer be his tool to protect another woman. Just then, my phone rang. It was a call from Ethan.

Sophia’s POV Looking at the caller ID “My Love” on the screen, I zoned out for a moment. If Ethan knew I’d discovered everything and was even considering divorce, he would definitely try every means to stop me. So before successfully divorcing, I absolutely couldn’t let him notice anything. In the last second before the call would automatically disconnect, I slid to answer. “Sophia?” Ethan’s voice came through the receiver, carrying his usual warm concern. “Did you finish the checkup? How did it go?” If this were yesterday, I would have felt sweet about this thoughtful concern. But now, I only felt my stomach churning with nausea. I tried to keep my voice steady and normal. “Yes, it’s done. The doctor said the baby is very healthy. Don’t worry.” “That’s good.” Ethan’s tone relaxed a bit. “By the way, I have to make a sudden business trip to the next city. Important project. I’ll be gone two or three days. Take care of yourself and the baby. Have the kitchen make whatever you want to eat. I’ll bring you a gift when I get back.” “Okay.” I only replied with one word, afraid saying more would betray my emotions. After hanging up, I stood in the law firm’s air-conditioned hallway, feeling my blood run completely cold. I raised my other hand and gently touched my still-flat belly. Just yesterday, I’d been filled with joy about this child’s arrival, imagining who the baby would look like. But now… With such a calculating father whose heart belonged elsewhere, if this child were born, it would surely have an unhappy life. After getting the divorce agreement from the lawyer, the next day as I went downstairs in a distracted state, my foot slipped and I fell. When I woke up, my lower abdomen throbbed with pain. The doctor told me the baby was gone. I returned weakly to the villa and lay in bed to rest. My phone vibrated. I picked it up to see Lydia had just posted on Ins. There were six photos. A selfie of Lydia with a gentle smile, an elaborately decorated birthday cake, brilliant fireworks in the night sky, two plates of exquisite Western cuisine, and two wine glasses clinking together. The last one was a close-up of two hands with fingers interlaced. On the man’s wrist was a Patek Philippe starry sky watch I knew all too well. The caption read, “This year’s birthday, still with my favorite person by my side.” Location tagged: Grand Hyatt Hotel in the neighboring city. My whole body went ice cold, chilled to the bone. So Ethan’s so-called business trip was to celebrate Lydia’s birthday, enjoying their undisturbed time together. With trembling fingers, I clicked into Lydia’s Ins and scrolled up through her posts. Three years ago in autumn, Lydia posted a photo of maple leaves with the caption, “Maple leaves are red again. Remember that year you said you’d take me to see all the red leaves in the world.” Two years ago on Valentine’s Day, Lydia posted a starry sky image. “Even if we can’t always be together, our hearts in one place is enough.” One year ago, on mine and Ethan’s wedding anniversary, Lydia posted, “Some people, some things, are destined to remain only in the heart. But being able to silently protect is already fortunate.” Looking through these, I suddenly realized Lydia had posted quite a bit of ambiguous content over the past three years. It’s just that before, I’d genuinely treated Lydia as family and never connected that content with Ethan. Now, suddenly awakened to the truth, I felt like a complete fool. I had been thoroughly deceived for three years. I thought I had love and happiness, not knowing that my sweet happiness was just a joke to others. I closed my eyes. Tears slid silently from the corners of my eyes.

Sophia’s POV Two days later, Ethan returned. But it was the Quinn family estate’s butler who told me. The butler spoke urgently, with rare panic. “Please come to the estate quickly. Something’s happened to him!” I frowned. “What happened?” “You’ll know when you get here. The old master is furious. No one can calm him down.” I was confused but still rushed to the Quinn estate. The whole way, I’d imagined various possibilities, but I never expected to see this scene. Lydia’s long hair was disheveled, tears on her face, her whole body trembling. And Ethan was tightly shielding her in his arms. His entire back had numerous vicious bloody marks, skin split open, blood soaking through his white shirt. “You disgusting creature! How dare you do such a shameful thing!” Grandfather stood to the side leaning on his cane, chest heaving violently. “Did you think that just because you weren’t in San Diego, I wouldn’t know what you two have been doing these past few days?” Lydia shook her head crying. “It’s not like that, Grandfather…” “If Grandfather must punish someone,” Ethan said hoarsely, “Then punish me. This is all my fault. It has nothing to do with Lydia.” “You bastard! How can you face your deceased brother? How can you face Sophia? How can you face the child in her belly!” “Lydia and I truly loved each other from the start!” Ethan suddenly raised his voice, eyes reddening. “As for Sophia and the child in her belly, you forced me into that, grandfather.” The words fell, and the room went deathly silent. Grandfather trembled with rage, nearly fainting from anger. “I thought after three years of marriage to Sophia, you’d have some feelings for her. I never imagined you were still so bewitched by this woman that you’ve lost all reason!” Just then, the butler hurried in from outside. “She’s here…” Ethan’s body stiffened. He slowly turned his head. At the doorway, I stood quietly. Our eyes met. Ethan’s eyes flashed with momentary panic and guilt. His lips moved as if wanting to say something, but ultimately he just looked away and said nothing. Grandfather saw me too. His expression changed slightly as he urgently signaled to the butler. “Quick, take her to the front hall to rest!” The butler stepped forward respectfully. “This way, please.” I pressed my lips together and had no choice but to follow the butler away. Behind me came Grandfather’s voice, suppressing fury with his command. “Continue! Beat them severely!” The sound of the rod striking flesh resumed. From the corner of my eye, I glimpsed that every strike the servant swung at Lydia landed heavily on Ethan’s back instead. He gritted his teeth, not making a sound, protecting Lydia in his arms completely. And Lydia remained completely unharmed. Late that night, a private doctor came to the villa to treat Ethan’s wounds. After nearly two hours of cleaning, medicating, and bandaging, the doctor finally left. Ethan lay on his stomach on the bed, looking toward me. After a moment of silence, he spoke. “Today at the estate… what did you hear?” I raised my eyes to meet his. “What should I have heard?” I asked back. Ethan studied me. “Nothing. She angered Grandfather. He wanted to punish her, but she’s too delicate to withstand it. With my brother gone, I have to protect her for him.” He reached out to hold my hand, his thumb gently rubbing the back of my hand, his habitual intimate gesture. “Sophia, don’t let it bother you.” I looked at his hand holding mine. Long fingers, well-defined and strong. Once, this hand had wiped my tears, stroked my hair, countless times gently held me, embraced me. Now, I only felt disgusted. “I know.” I calmly pulled my hand away. “I understand.” I took out a document from the nightstand drawer and placed it in front of him. “By the way, sign this for me.” “What is it?” He asked casually. “I saw a necklace I really like. It’s quite expensive. I want you to buy it for me.” I was gambling. Gambling that having just been punished for Lydia’s sake and having lied to me, he wouldn’t carefully read the document’s contents at a time like this. Sure enough, Ethan barely hesitated before taking the document and pen. He signed his name smoothly on the signature line of the last page I’d turned to. “What else do you want?” He handed the document back to me with an indulgent smile. “I’ll buy it all for you.” “That’s not necessary.” I smiled. “This one thing is enough.”

Sophia’s POV The next day, I delivered the signed divorce agreement to my lawyer, asking them to process it as quickly as possible, then returned to the villa. Stepping into the entrance, the housekeeper who was wiping a vase saw me. Her expression was somewhat strange, hesitant to speak. “What is it?” I asked while changing shoes. “Ma’am.” The housekeeper gestured toward upstairs. “Someone’s here. Upstairs.” My movements paused briefly, then returned to normal. “I see.” I went straight upstairs. The closer I got to the master bedroom, the clearer the sobbing from inside became. “…It’s all my fault. If not for me, you wouldn’t have been hurt so badly…” Lydia was draped over Ethan, crying with a face full of tears. Ethan turned his face slightly, seemingly about to raise his hand to wipe her tears, but his gaze inadvertently caught sight of me at the door. His movement froze instantly. “Sophia?” Ethan called out, with a trace of barely perceptible tension. Lydia startled like she’d been frightened, hurriedly moving away from him and straightening up, turning to look toward the door. Her face was pale, eyes red and swollen, looking pitiful. “Sophia, you… you’re back…” Lydia’s fingers twisted at her clothes anxiously. “Ethan was hurt because of me. I felt so guilty, I just wanted to come see him… We… we didn’t do anything else…” “She was just emotionally overwhelmed for a moment. Nothing more.” Ethan picked up the conversation. “Don’t misunderstand.” One with red-rimmed eyes looking pitiful, one with a soothing tone and evasive gaze. I suddenly wanted to laugh. Their panic wasn’t about me misunderstanding, was it? They were just afraid I’d tell Grandfather, afraid this marriage would fall apart, afraid Lydia’s days in the Quinn family would become even worse. “I understand.” I nodded. “I get it.” Lydia bit her lower lip, those wet eyes looking at me with careful pleading. “Sophia, Ethan was hurt because of me. I feel terrible about it. I want to stay and take care of him for a few days, even if it’s just bringing him water.” Before I could respond, Ethan spoke first from the bed. “Grandfather is furious right now. Her days at the estate aren’t easy. Let her stay here temporarily for a few days. When Grandfather calms down, she can go back.” He seemed to be asking, but his tone brooked no refusal. I smiled. “As long as you two think it’s fine, I have no objections.” “I knew it! Sophia, you’re so magnanimous and understanding!” Lydia beamed with joy and just like that, moved into our villa. That night. In the dead of night, my phone suddenly vibrated with a message notification. Ethan picked up his phone to look, then glanced sideways at me. After confirming I was asleep, he slowly got up and left the room. In the darkness, I opened my eyes, got up as well, and walked to the guest room door. Light leaked through the door crack, casting the shadows of two intertwined figures. “Does it still hurt?” Lydia’s voice was full of heartache. “Seeing those wounds, my heart is breaking…” Ethan cupped her face and lowered his head, kissing her wet eyes. “It doesn’t hurt anymore.” His voice carried a tenderness I’d never heard before. “Don’t worry. I can move around now. I’ll be fine soon.” Lydia tilted her face up, tears streaming. “Don’t protect me like that next time. Seeing you hurt makes me suffer a thousand, ten thousand times more than if I were hurt myself…” Ethan’s thumb caressed her cheek. “Silly girl. I told you I’d protect you. No matter how badly I’m hurt, it’s my willing choice.” Lydia’s eyes grew hazy. Suddenly she stood on tiptoe and kissed his lips. Ethan seemed ignited. The next second, he bent down and swept Lydia up in his arms. Walking to the bed in a few steps, he laid her down and pressed himself on top of her, kissing her lips as his hands began to roam restlessly. “Mmm… Ethan…” Lydia’s breathing was unsteady. “Isn’t this bad, doing this here? What if we wake Sophia?” Ethan’s kisses traveled down her neck, his voice muffled but certain. “She won’t wake up. She sleeps deeply since getting pregnant. Not even thunder would wake her.” I stood outside the door, watching that nauseating entanglement. They were actually so desperate they couldn’t control themselves, having an affair right under my nose. This was the good man I once believed in. My good husband. This was the woman I’d sincerely treated as family, whom I’d pitied as a young widow.

Sophia’s POV Just before dawn, the master bedroom door was gently pushed open. Ethan returned to the bedside silently like a ghost. He softly called my name once. After confirming I was still asleep, he lifted the covers and lay down. I had my back to him. In the faint light of dawn seeping through the curtains, I opened my eyes. In the days that followed, a bizarre calm settled over the villa. Lydia, under the pretense of caring for the injured, had practically become half the lady of the house. In the mornings, she’d wear silk robes while making coffee for Ethan, her fingertips “accidentally” brushing his hand. In the afternoon garden, she’d stand on tiptoe to straighten Ethan’s collar, her lips nearly touching his chin. Every time, I carefully took note but continued pretending not to know, as if I’d seen nothing. “Next week is Grandfather’s seventy-fifth birthday.” That evening at dinner, Ethan cut his steak and said casually, “We’re celebrating at the estate this year. We’ll need to stay overnight.” Lydia’s knife and fork paused in mid-air. “Got it.” I scooped up a spoonful of soup and agreed. On the birthday, the Quinn estate was filled with guests. Nearly every prominent figure in the city attended. Ethan held my hand, playing the loving couple in front of others. Lydia wore an elegant moonlight-white dress, sitting quietly in a corner. Occasionally when her gaze met Ethan’s, tender affection that only they understood flowed between them. When the banquet ended and guests dispersed, it was already evening. I’d been standing in high heels all day. My calves ached terribly. I was about to go upstairs to rest when a young maid hurried over carrying a fruit plate. The maid’s face was pale as she pleaded, “I suddenly have terrible stomach pain… This fruit plate is supposed to go to your grandfather. Could you… help me deliver it?” Thinking it was just a small favor, I nodded and took it. “Give it to me.” “Thank you!” The maid looked relieved, clutching her stomach as she hurried away. Grandfather’s bedroom was at the end of the hallway. The door was ajar, light spilling from inside. I approached, about to raise my hand to knock. A dull thud of something heavy hitting the floor suddenly came from inside. My heart jumped. Without thinking further, I pushed the door open with my elbow. The scene before me made my blood freeze instantly. Grandfather lay face-up on the carpet beside the bed, while Lydia gripped a down pillow with both hands, pressing it firmly over his nose and mouth. Her profile in the lamplight appeared twisted and vicious, her eyes full of malice. Completely different from her usual weak and pitiful appearance. “Grandpa!” The fruit plate slipped from my hands. I gasped in disbelief and lunged forward, shoving Lydia away. “Lydia! What are you doing?!” Caught off guard, Lydia was pushed to the floor. She screamed, hurriedly dropping the pillow, her face drained of all color, trembling violently. I was about to reach out to check Grandfather’s breathing when Ethan and other Quinn family members burst in after hearing the commotion. Ethan saw Grandfather collapsed on the floor. His pupils constricted sharply. “What happened?!” “Grandfather! Grandfather, what’s wrong?” Other Quinn family members crowded in, crying out in shock at the scene. “Quick! Call an ambulance! Now!” After Ethan shouted, he rushed over like a gust of wind, crouched down, carefully lifted Grandfather, and urgently pressed his fingers to the carotid artery. Chaos erupted. The ambulance arrived quickly. Grandfather was lifted onto a stretcher and sent to the hospital, straight into the emergency room. The situation was critical, life and death uncertain. In the Quinn estate’s main hall, the atmosphere was unbearably heavy. The main Quinn family members gathered there, everyone’s faces somber. Ethan returned from the hospital to the estate. When he entered the hall, his expression was even darker than when he’d left. “What exactly happened?” His voice was low, carrying the feeling of an approaching storm, each word like ice. “Grandpa was perfectly fine. How did he suddenly suffocate and fall unconscious? Who did this?” Everyone’s eyes focused on Lydia and me: some suspicious, some scrutinizing, some furious. When they all heard the commotion and rushed to the room, there were only two people inside besides Grandfather: Lydia and me. Only we knew what had happened. I opened my mouth, about to speak. “It was… it was Sophia!”

Sophia’s POV I looked at Lydia in shock as she suddenly cried out. Lydia’s face was deathly pale. She raised a trembling hand, pointing at me, tears streaming down. “It was Sophia! I saw it with my own eyes… saw her holding the pillow, covering Grandfather’s nose and mouth! I tried to stop her, but it was too late…” “You’re lying!” All the blood in my body rushed to my head. “It was you! I saw you with my own eyes holding the pillow over Grandfather’s face!” I turned to Ethan, explaining urgently. “Ethan, you have to believe me! I went to bring Grandfather fruit. When I pushed the door open, I saw Lydia using the pillow to smother him! She’s the one trying to kill Grandfather! That pillow must have Lydia’s fingerprints on it. We just need to test it!” “That won’t be necessary.” Ethan abruptly cut me off, his voice so low it was alarming. His gaze fell on my face, his eyes full of cold scrutiny, as if looking at a stranger. “Lydia would never do such a thing.” He said each word deliberately. “I believe her.” “You believe her?” I couldn’t believe it. My whole body trembled. “You won’t even investigate before believing her?” Ethan’s face was iron-gray, his eyes flashing with terrifying coldness. “Lydia’s been married into the Quinn family for so many years. We’ve all seen what kind of person she is. She’s usually so gentle she wouldn’t even step on an ant. How could she possibly dare harm Grandfather?” “Then what about me? Grandfather has always treated me well. What reason would I have to harm him?” “Yes, I’d very much like to ask you.” Ethan’s handsome face was as cold as frost. “Grandfather has always treated you well. Why were you so ruthless as to attack him?” My whole body shook. I was utterly shocked. I’d expected him to protect Lydia, but I never imagined he’d be so blind to the truth. “Ethan.” An older Quinn family member spoke gravely. “Your grandfather’s life still hangs in the balance. This matter must be severely punished.” “Yes, he must be given justice!” “We absolutely cannot let the culprit go free!” The Quinn family members chimed in, looking at me with disgust and fury. Ethan was silent for a moment, then finally raised his hand. “Someone come.” Two bodyguards entered at his command. “Take her to the police station.” Ethan’s voice was ice cold. “On charges of attempted murder.” “Ethan!” Cold seeped through me from the inside out. “You can’t do this to me. I’m carrying your child!” This was my only bargaining chip now. Though only I knew the child was already gone. But at this moment, this was the only way I could think of to delay and wait for the truth to come out. “Even if you really don’t believe me.” My voice choked, carrying a last shred of hope. “At least wait until Grandfather wakes up and hear what he has to say…” “Take her away.” Ethan didn’t look at me, only uttering two words to the bodyguards. The bodyguards stepped forward, gripping my arms from both sides. “Ethan!” I struggled, my voice shrill. “Please, at least wait until Grandfather wakes up…” “If Grandfather can wake up.” Ethan finally looked at me, his eyes colder than I’d ever seen. “Perhaps I’ll consider hearing your explanation. But now, you should pay for what you’ve done.” “You can’t do this, Ethan! I’m your wife. I’m carrying your child!” No matter how I struggled, argued, or pleaded, I couldn’t soften Ethan’s heart. The bodyguards forcibly dragged me away. The following days were the darkest period of my life. I was locked in a detention center. The female inmates looked at me like I was prey. At first, it was just verbal abuse, then it escalated to shoving, and then… “I heard she’s a vicious woman who tried to kill her own grandfather?” “Looks so innocent on the outside, but has such a black heart!” “Someone paid big money for us to teach her a lesson!” Fists, slaps, fingernails digging into flesh. All aimed at me. The most painful was late at night, when they’d press me down on the filthy bathroom floor and pour cold water over my head again and again. The cold water soaked through my thin prison uniform. The bone-chilling cold made my teeth chatter, but it couldn’t compare to one ten-thousandth of the cold in my heart. I’d fantasized countless times that Ethan would appear, investigate the truth, and take me out. But one day, two days, three days… hope gradually extinguished. On the afternoon of the seventh day, a guard opened the cell door. “Sophia Wright, someone’s posting bail for you.” I struggled to get up from the floor. My whole body was covered in injuries, my left eye so swollen I could barely open it, dried blood still at the corner of my mouth. I stumbled out of the detention center. The harsh sunlight made me dizzy. A black sedan was parked in front. Ethan leaned against the car, a cigarette between his fingers. Seeing me in this state, his expression didn’t waver. He just looked up slightly. “Get in.” I stood still, my voice so hoarse it didn’t sound like my own. “Has Grandfather… woken up?” Ethan’s smoking motion paused. Through the cigarette smoke, his face was somewhat blurred. “The doctor said his brain was severely deprived of oxygen. He’s become a vegetable. The chances of him waking up are minimal.” My heart sank to rock bottom.

Sophia’s POV “However.” Ethan threw the cigarette butt on the ground and crushed it with his shoe. “Considering you’re still carrying Quinn family blood in your belly, the family has decided to temporarily not pursue criminal charges against you.” He opened the car door. “But from now on, you’re no longer my wife, no longer part of the Quinn family. Once the child is born, I’ll divorce you.” I looked at him and laughed. Laughed until tears came out. “Ethan.” I said softly. “You’re going to regret this. One day, you’ll know how ridiculous today’s choice was.” Ethan frowned, as if wanting to say something, but ultimately just turned aside. “Get in. Don’t make me say it a third time.” I wanted to refuse, but the words stuck in my throat. I knew resistance was meaningless. Besides, all my documents were still at the villa. I had to go back to get them before I could leave. Half an hour later, the car pulled into the familiar villa courtyard. But after stepping into the villa, the scene before me made me stop in my tracks. Several servants were moving things out of the master bedroom. My clothes, jewelry, cosmetics, even my cherished books and photo albums: all carelessly stuffed into cardboard boxes, piled in the hallway like trash. “Hurry up.” Lydia commanded imperiously. “Throw anything useless into the storage room.” She looked up and saw me, a victorious smile curving her lips. “You’re back?” Coming before me, she looked me up and down in my disheveled state, saying smugly, “Starting today, this villa has a new mistress. Naturally, the master bedroom is no longer yours either.” She raised her hand, pointing to a narrow door at the end of the hallway. “From now on, you’ll live there.” I found this utterly absurd and laughable. I looked at Ethan mockingly. “Your grandfather is still lying unconscious in the hospital, and instead of investigating the truth, you let this woman move into our bedroom? Can you face him after doing this?” “Grandfather became like this because of you. That’s the truth.” Ethan’s face was terrifyingly dark. “If not for the child in your belly, you’d still be in jail right now instead of standing here questioning me.” He raised his chin toward a nearby servant. “Take her to the storage room. From today on, she lives there until the child is born.” Two servants stepped forward, gripping my arms from both sides. The storage room was worse than I’d imagined. Less than a hundred square feet, filled with old junk, the smell of mold mixed with the pungent odor of cleaning agents, nauseating. The servants carelessly threw my belongings on the floor. “Starting tomorrow, you’ll be responsible for cleaning the entire villa every day.” Lydia stood in the doorway, her smile sweet but vicious. “Because the Quinn family doesn’t support freeloaders.” She paused slightly, as if remembering something. “Oh, and don’t think about running away or contacting anyone, because it would be futile. Your phone has been confiscated. I’ve also instructed everyone that no one in this villa dares lend you a phone. Before the child in your belly is born, someone will watch you every moment of every day.” With those words, the door slammed shut heavily. I dug my fingertips deep into my palm, trying hard to calm my emotions, then turned to rummage through the pile of belongings for a long time, finally finding all my identification documents. I gripped those documents tightly. I had to endure for now, endure until I found a chance to escape. In the days that followed, before dawn each day, I was dragged from the storage room by servants to begin the day’s labor. Scrubbing floors, cleaning toilets, washing mountains of dishes, tending to wildly overgrown weeds in the garden… any slacking off resulted in kicks from the servants watching me. My three meals were the cold leftovers everyone else didn’t finish. As for Ethan and Lydia… If before, with Grandfather keeping them in check, they still exercised some restraint and only dared to sneak around… Now with Grandfather down, they had completely thrown caution to the wind. The living room sofa, the study desk, the dining table, even the garden swing… everywhere bore traces of their lovemaking. Several times late at night, tossing and turning on the narrow bed in the storage room, I could hear moans and panting from the other side of the wall, obscene and unbearable. The gentle consideration that once moved my heart. How laughable it all seemed now. This afternoon at noon, the sun blazed overhead. I was ordered to clean the pool. I crouched by the pool’s edge, scrubbing the walls bit by bit with a brush. At the other end of the pool, water splashed everywhere. Lydia wore a sexy bikini, her whole body clinging to Ethan, laughing coquettishly. The servant watching me was a middle-aged woman, currently leaning back in a lounge chair dozing off, obviously drowsy from the stifling afternoon heat. My scrubbing motion paused slightly. I raised my eyes, quickly scanning the surroundings. Ethan and Lydia were immersed in their own world, not paying attention to me. The villa gate was at the end of the garden, about fifty meters away. My heart pounded violently in my chest. I gently set down the brush, pretending to reach for the hose in the corner, but used the cover of the bushes to inch bit by bit toward the gate. Five meters, ten meters, twenty meters… Behind me came Lydia’s coquettish complaint. “Ethan, my shoulders are so sore. Massage them for me…” Ethan chuckled lowly. “Where? Here?” Panting sounds resumed. I held my breath and finally reached the gate. I looked back once. The servant was still dozing. Those two were still entwined in the water. Now. This was the best chance to escape. I gripped the documents in my pocket tightly. Then without looking back, I slipped out silently.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “394877”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

As a single mother, to scrape together tuition for my daughter to study for her master’s degree in the UK, I worked three jobs a day. I even had an accident while working the night shift at a factory—the machine severed two of my right fingers. But the day she got her UK visa, she was at the airport clinging to a wealthy businessman twenty years her senior, crying and laughing. “Daddy, if you hadn’t sponsored me to go abroad, my trash-collecting mom would have ruined my whole life.” I stood behind a pillar in the departure hall, holding up my freshly bandaged hand that was still bleeding through the gauze, frozen in place. I stepped forward to call out to her, but her friend Isabella wrinkled her nose in disgust and shoved me away. “Where’d this old hag come from? Get lost before you dirty Laura’s designer clothes!” I looked at my daughter. She wore exquisite makeup, and her eyes held no trace of guilt—only an icy warning. In front of the rich man, she pulled out two hundred-pound notes from her purse and threw them in my face like she was dismissing a beggar. “Take the money and get lost. I only have a sugar daddy—I don’t have some bottom-feeder poor mom!” People around us pointed and whispered. The wealthy man patted her shoulder approvingly, praising how sensible she was. I didn’t pick up the money. I just calmly watched her go through security and board her flight. Then I turned around and dialed the embassy. “Hello, I’d like to file a formal report. Someone has falsified academic credentials and may be involved in illegal immigration.”

After hanging up with the embassy, I didn’t look back at the security checkpoint. I walked straight out of the departure hall. When the spring breeze hit me, I realized I was soaked through with sweat. The gauze on my right hand was saturated with blood, and fresh pain shot through the wound. In the emergency room, the doctor unwrapped the bandage, his brow furrowing tightly. “What happened? The fingers we just reattached have torn open again!” “Did you get into a struggle with someone? If you keep this up, this hand will be permanently damaged!” I was drenched in cold sweat from the pain, but I just shook my head. “Please, just wrap it tighter for me.” After getting my wound treated, I returned home and pushed open the rusted iron gate. The musty smell of the basement hit me in the face. The room was a complete mess. Before leaving, Laura had used scissors to shred all the old clothes she didn’t want, and thrown them everywhere along with old shoes. Looking at the chaos on the floor, waves of bitterness washed over me. To let her wear decent clothes like other children. I worked three jobs a day to earn living expenses, and even took night shifts at an unlicensed factory to pay for her tutoring. But she broke my heart and trampled my dignity. My eyes grew moist, but in the end, no tears fell. I pulled out a black garbage bag and swept the shredded fabric into it. I stuffed this garbage along with the designer bag I’d bought with money from my first blood donation into the bag. Then I carried these two black bags and mercilessly threw them into the dumpster outside the complex. Just as I finished throwing away the trash, my phone vibrated. It was a reply from the embassy: [Hello. Regarding your report about Ms. Laura’s suspected academic fraud and unclear visa funding sources, we have initiated a joint investigation with customs. Thank you for your cooperation.] Looking at the words on the screen, my lips gradually curved upward. Almost simultaneously, my phone rang. It was Laura. The moment I answered, Laura’s shriek came through: “You old bitch! Did you report me?! Why did customs detain me?! They said my visa has been frozen and they’re going to investigate Daddy’s financial records!” Hearing her voice crack as she screamed, I felt nothing but satisfaction. “Yes. You’re my daughter. I won’t let you sell your body!” “Are you insane?! I’m your daughter! You’re ruining my future! I’ll kill you—” Before she could finish cursing, I hung up and blocked her number. Back in the basement, I looked at the passbook on the table containing my work injury compensation and took a deep breath. This money was originally meant to be her living expenses abroad. Now, I would use it to move out of this basement and start my real life.

The next afternoon, the basement’s iron door was kicked open with a bang. Laura burst in with her suited sugar daddy. Her friend Isabella followed aggressively behind them. “Smack!” A visa rejection letter was thrown in my face by Laura. “You poisonous old witch! Are you satisfied now?! My visa’s been revoked! I’m banned from entering the UK for three years!” Laura pointed at my nose, her eyes bloodshot. “You’re bottom-feeding trash rotting in the mud—fine! But why do you have to drag me down with you!” Isabella beside her covered her nose, her face full of disgust as she fanned the flames. “Exactly! Laura accepted Mr. Osman as her daddy. She was going to become a real lady of status.” “You’re just jealous that Mr. Osman has more money than you, so you sabotaged her, didn’t you? You poverty-stricken lunatic!” Mr. Osman stood with his belly protruding, looking down at my room condescendingly. He pulled a stack of cash from his briefcase and threw it on the table. “Ten thousand pounds. Go to the UK embassy and withdraw your report. Tell them you were having a psychotic episode and talking nonsense.” Mr. Osman flicked ash from his cigar, his tone arrogant. “Women are so short-sighted. Your daughter will live the high life with me. You should be grateful.” I looked at the ten thousand pounds on the table and laughed coldly. “Mr. Osman is so generous.” Then I raised my head and stared at Laura. “She paid someone to take her exams for her.” “Mr. Osman, you don’t really think Laura’s a genius, do you?” “Are you sure she can bring you any value if she goes abroad?” Laura’s expression changed drastically. She screamed in humiliation and rage: “Shut up! Daddy, don’t listen to this crazy woman’s nonsense!” She looked around frantically, then suddenly spotted the passbook I’d placed under my pillow. It was my severed finger injury compensation! “What’s this?!” Laura’s eyes lit up. She pounced over and snatched the passbook. Opening it, her eyes went wide. “Three hundred thousand?! You’ve been hiding three hundred thousand from me!” She reached under the pillow and pulled out my ID card, viciously stuffing it into her own pocket. “Is the password my birthday? Even if you don’t tell me, I’ll figure it out!” My expression changed. I rushed forward to grab it back. “Give it back! That’s my severed finger compensation! That’s my lifeline!” “What do you mean YOUR money? You ruined my dream of going abroad—consider this compensation for my emotional distress!” Laura clutched the passbook and ID card, backing away self-righteously. I lunged and grabbed her wrist, but she yanked hard. My freshly bandaged right hand slammed heavily into the iron bed frame. The wound hadn’t healed at all yet. “Rip—” Sharp pain instantly spread from my fingertips. The gauze was stained red with blood, dripping onto the cement floor. I collapsed to my knees in pain, my whole body convulsing uncontrollably. “Oh please, are you trying to scam us?” Isabella rolled her eyes from the side. Osman snorted coldly and gave a look. His two bodyguards immediately stepped forward and roughly shoved me against the wall, escorting Laura out. “Mom, I’m taking this three hundred thousand.” “You can just rot in this moldy basement and fend for yourself!” Laura waved the passbook and ID card, linked arms with Osman, and strutted away in her high heels. I lay in my own blood, watching their retreating figures, biting my lip until I tasted blood. Laura, since you’re going to be so ruthless, don’t blame me for being merciless.

I endured the severe pain and shakily dialed the police with my left hand. The police arrived quickly, but when they learned that the person who’d stolen my belongings was my own biological daughter whom I’d carried for ten months, they showed helpless expressions. According to regulations, the police could only temporarily classify it as a domestic property dispute and needed further investigation before filing a case. The officer in charge saw me lying in a pool of blood looking pitiful. After taking my statement, he immediately took me to the relevant department. He helped me file emergency reports for a lost ID card and freeze the passbook. The three hundred thousand couldn’t be recovered immediately, but at least I’d secured the money in the account so Laura couldn’t squander it. By the time I returned to the basement after getting my wound re-stitched at the hospital, it was late at night. My right hand was wrapped in gauze, each throb accompanied by stabbing pain. Just then, my phone started vibrating crazily. Hundreds of abusive text messages from unknown numbers flooded my inbox. I opened a short video platform and found that on the homepage feed, Laura had posted a five-minute accusatory video. In the video, she wore fake no-makeup makeup, tears streaming down her face as she tearfully accused me of being an evil mother. She lied to the camera, claiming I’d tried to sell her for bride price money to pay gambling debts, even slandering that I’d deliberately self-harmed my severed fingers to extort money from her. She also played the victim, saying I was jealous she’d received sponsorship to study abroad, so I maliciously spread rumors to ruin her future. Oh my god, how can such an evil mother exist? Unfit to be human! Poor girl, what bad luck to have a mother like that. Support the daughter cutting ties! People like this should just die! The comment section was outraged. Even my former coworkers at the factory believed the lies and sent me messages cursing me out. You always seemed honest, but I never knew you were so vicious, harming your own daughter. Disgusting! Facing the online mob, I didn’t cry. I looked coldly at Laura’s face on the screen, methodically saving her defamatory video with my left hand. Then I took screenshots and screen recordings of all the vicious comments and personal attacks the video had attracted. Next, my gaze fell on the laptop in the corner. It was an old computer Laura had disdained as too outdated to take with her. Laura was careless. She thought emptying the recycle bin solved everything. But she didn’t know that as long as the hard drive wasn’t destroyed, data could be recovered. I spent the whole night using my left hand to control the mouse, using recovery software I’d found online to gradually excavate the secrets buried deep in this computer. When the progress bar reached one hundred percent and I opened the hidden billing statements and chat records that had been recovered, I broke out in a cold sweat, then laughed out loud in the basement. Mr. Osman’s several trading companies were all shells used as fronts for overseas fraud syndicates to launder money! The funds Laura had been dreaming about for going abroad all came from dirty accounts. Not only that, I also recovered several eye-burning videos. The protagonists of the videos were actually Osman and Laura’s friend Isabella, who kept calling him sugar daddy! This seemingly innocent Isabella wasn’t just a business partner—she’d been sleeping with Osman all along. Laura had become a tool Isabella used to please her benefactor. I extracted those money laundering flow statements, along with the exam proxy transfer records and pornographic videos, and organized them into categories. As morning sunlight filtered into the basement, I pressed send. I sent them in encrypted compressed file format to the Economic Investigation Division’s verified report email, copying the tax bureau. Laura, it’s time to wake up from your dream of marrying into wealth.

Three days later, to whitewash her reputation, Laura held a high-profile banquet at a luxury hotel in the city center. She announced publicly that although her mother’s interference had temporarily prevented her from going to the UK, Mr. Osman had already arranged for her to enter a prestigious domestic academy. The banquet hall was brightly lit. Many of Osman’s business associates attended, along with Laura’s classmates. Social media influencers she’d invited for publicity filled the hall. I pushed open the banquet hall doors wearing old clothes, my right hand wrapped in thick bandages. The entire venue instantly fell silent. “Oh my god, that’s the evil mother from online, right?” “How does she have the nerve to show up? Dressed so shabby.” “Probably saw her daughter made it big and came to extort more money. So disgusting.” The guests pointed and whispered, their contempt undisguised. Laura stood on stage in a gown. Seeing me, a flash of triumph crossed her eyes, then she put on a wronged expression. “Mom, what are you doing here? Haven’t you hurt me enough?” She held the microphone, her voice choking. “But no matter how evil you are, you’re still my mom.” “As long as you admit your mistake in front of everyone today, I’m willing to forgive you.” Isabella sneered from the side, stirring things up: “Who apologizes standing up? If you’re truly repentant, you should kneel and apologize to Laura!” “Right! Kneel and apologize!” Several people who’d been bribed started jeering from below the stage. Just then, Osman stood up from the main table, holding documents, looking down at me condescendingly. “Since you’re here, just sign it.” Mr. Osman threw the documents on the floor in front of me. He used a threatening tone to make me sign that notarized statement admitting to slander and severing the mother-daughter relationship. Laura walked to the edge of the stage and threatened me in a voice only we could hear: “If you don’t sign today, I’ll have my online team destroy your reputation so you can’t survive in this city!” “Sign it, and I’ll give you back half the money from the passbook.” Give me back half? Using my lifeline money to threaten me? I looked at the humiliating document on the floor, then at that face on stage that resembled mine yet looked so hateful. I calmly bent down and picked up the pen with my left hand. “Fine, I’ll sign,” I said flatly. Laura and Isabella exchanged glances, smiles of triumph on their faces. Mr. Osman also exhaled a satisfied puff of smoke, watching me submit. I held the pen and walked up to the stage step by step, standing before Laura and Mr. Osman. Then, under everyone’s expectant gaze waiting for my submission, I used both hands and tore the document in half. Then I continued tearing, shredding the document to pieces. With a swoosh, I violently threw the handful of confetti into the shocked faces of Laura and Mr. Osman! Paper scraps fluttered to the floor. Laura screamed: “You crazy old woman, what are you doing?!” “What am I doing?” I looked at them, a cold smile curving my lips. My voice carried through the microphone across the banquet hall: “Laura, Osman. Did you really think that during these past few days when I didn’t fight back, all I did was make one phone call to the embassy?” As soon as I finished speaking, the guests in the hall who’d been ready to watch me humiliated looked at each other. Everyone fell silent. Laura paused, then covered her mouth and sneered: “Phone calls? Who else could you call? The psychiatric hospital?!” “You old hag, are you so traumatized you’re having delusions? Everyone look, this woman’s gone insane! Quick, get security to drag her out!” Isabella beside her joined in the mockery: “Exactly! Wearing rags to a five-star hotel pretending to be rich.” “Mr. Osman, look how pathetic she is. She’s probably money-crazy and daydreaming!” Osman crushed out his cigar, his expression dark, and barked: “A toast refused means a forfeit drunk! Someone, hold this crazy woman down!” “This agreement—she’ll sign it whether she wants to or not!” Two bodyguards immediately lunged toward me. Just as Laura and the others looked triumphant, BANG! The banquet hall doors were pushed open from outside!

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My boyfriend Ethan brought me home to meet his family. His adopted sister Leah had just gotten out of the pool, and her bikini strap had snapped. She let out a little cry, hands flying to her chest, and ran straight toward Ethan. “Ethan, the strap broke! Help me tie it back on!” The butler and servants all lowered their heads. Ethan seemed completely used to this. He took her hand, turned her around, and expertly tied a knot. His hand even slid across Leah’s bare back as he said flippantly, “What kind of cheap stuff did you buy? Next time I’ll get you something better.” I was so angry I nearly blacked out. “Ethan!” I snapped. “Are my words just going in one ear and out the other?” Leah turned back to look at me with timid eyes. “Claire, don’t read too much into it. We’re just siblings. If something was really going on between us, I’d already be the lady of this house, wouldn’t I?” After saying that, she turned back around, her voice taking on a coquettish tone. “Ethan, I’ve told you so many times—after you tie the bikini straps, you need to adjust things properly so the shape looks good!” “You’re like a block of wood. You totally ruined the shape.” Leah actually reached into her bikini right then and there, adjusting herself in front of Ethan like no one else was watching. And Ethan didn’t look away at all. His eyes dropped to her chest and stayed there for two full seconds. Then he sighed helplessly and actually reached out like he was about to help her. “Leah, don’t you have hands?” I finally snapped. I strode forward and planted myself between them. “Ethan, am I dead to you? Is this something you can just ‘help’ with? Even if you grew up together, there’s a line between men and women. Don’t you two have any sense of boundaries?” The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. I’d always known Ethan had an adopted sister. But I had no idea they were this close—completely crossing the line between siblings. In front of all these people, and in front of me, they could do something like this. I didn’t dare imagine what went on when they were alone! The moment I finished speaking, the air went still for a beat. Then Ethan suddenly burst out laughing and wrapped his arm around me. “Jealous?” He nuzzled my neck with his nose. “You’re right. I’ll be more careful from now on, okay? Don’t be mad. Besides, I completely see Leah as a kid. Looking at her is like looking at my own daughter.” That only added fuel to the fire. He still didn’t think he’d done anything wrong. Daughter? What kind of father ties his twenty-year-old daughter’s bikini and runs his hand down her back while he’s at it? I shoved his hand away irritably. Before Ethan could say anything, Leah clicked her tongue impatiently. “Come on, Claire. Ethan coaxing you once is cute. If you keep this up, you’re just being unreasonable.” Ethan’s mother—my future mother-in-law—walked over carrying a fruit platter, a polite smile plastered on her face. “Claire, it’s your first time visiting our home. Let’s not make a fuss over something so small. Ethan and Leah are just close. You’ll get used to it.” She handed me a piece of watermelon. “Leah grew up without parents. We all love her like she’s our own. Ethan especially treasures her. Please be understanding.” I was trembling with rage. Everyone around me was looking at me like I was overreacting. Including Ethan, who clearly didn’t think his behavior—or his family’s words—was problematic in the slightest. I took a deep breath, about to speak, when Leah suddenly started complaining loudly. She stamped her foot at Ethan. “Ethan, I’m hungry! Didn’t you say the chef was making sushi today? I can’t wait anymore!” Ethan’s brow immediately furrowed. He looked at me, his tone cooling. “Are you done making a scene? Can we go eat now? Leah has a sensitive stomach. If she goes too long without eating, it’ll hurt.” In that instant, my heart went cold. Was I the one making a scene? All he talked about was Leah. Because Leah wanted to eat, I had to swallow my grievances. With such a wonderful sister around, why did he even need a girlfriend? I closed my eyes, forcing back the sting of tears. “I’m done. Done making a scene, and done with you. Ethan, let’s break up.” The moment I turned to leave, I paused and looked back at Leah. “By the way, I heard siblings who are close sleep in the same bed to deepen their bond. I wish you and your brother a happy life together.” I strode toward the door. Ethan suddenly grabbed me, yanking me back so hard I stumbled. He gripped my wrist so tightly my bones ached. “Can you please give me some face in front of my family? Stop being so unreasonable!” “Tell me what you want to eat. After dinner, I’ll have the driver take us shopping. I’ll spend time with you properly, okay?” His tone softened, as if this were some enormous compromise. I laughed. Everything came after his precious sister. What was I to him? I wrenched my arm free and looked at my wrist, now red from his grip. I sneered. “No need, Mr. Brooks.” With that, I turned and walked away without hesitation. This time, Ethan didn’t follow. Behind me, I heard Leah’s gleeful voice. “Ethan, what’s wrong with her? We already said we’re siblings, but she insists on imagining there’s something between us. Total paranoia!” Ethan’s mother was sighing too. “Ethan, is this really the type of girl you like? She has such a temper. She’s going to cause trouble if you take her out.” Ethan rubbed his temples irritably and casually slung his arm over Leah’s shoulder as they walked toward the dining room. “Mom, drop it. I’m annoyed. Forget about her. If she wants to leave, let her leave.” “Come on, Leah. Let’s get you that coffee you love.” Tears streamed down my face instantly. I held them back as hard as I could, but the moment I got into the cab, I broke down completely. For this man, I’d turned down the stable job my parents had arranged and moved to his city all by myself. We’d been together for three years. I thought our love was unshakable. What an idiot I’d been!

The moment I got back to the apartment we shared, I started packing my things. For two whole days, Ethan didn’t call or text me once. I forced myself not to be pathetic and started planning my new life. I messaged the HR department of a company I’d previously turned down, asking if the Director’s Assistant position they’d offered me was still available. They replied quickly, saying the position was still open and asking when I could start. I told them next Monday. Just when I thought this chapter of my life was closing and I was ready to start fresh, the doorbell rang. I opened the door. Ethan stood there holding a huge bouquet of blue roses, though his expression showed little remorse. “Surprise!” He forced out a stiff smile and thrust the flowers forward like he was checking off a task. “Babe, I’m here to apologize. Forgive me, okay?” Even as he spoke, his eyes drifted over my shoulder into the apartment, as if checking for something. Before I could respond, Leah suddenly appeared from behind him. She shoved an elegant gift box into my arms with a bright smile. “Claire, don’t be mad. Getting angry all the time is bad for your skin.” With that, she breezed past me like she owned the place, slipping on house slippers and walking right in. Those were the fuzzy slippers Ethan had bought me—my favorite pair. Ethan immediately followed her in, not even glancing at me. All his attention was on Leah. “Careful. Don’t trip.” He pulled me onto the couch. “Baby, look—Leah even came all this way to apologize to you.” He opened the gift box. Inside was a necklace with a huge diamond that was almost blinding. “Remember that ‘Heart of the Ocean’ you glanced at during the auction? I bought it for you. Do you like it?” My heart skipped a beat. Before I could process it, he moved behind me and personally fastened the cold necklace around my neck. “It’s beautiful,” he murmured, his breath tickling my ear. “It suits you.” Leah, who’d been standing silently to the side, suddenly spoke up. Her tone carried just the right hint of envy. “You’re so lucky, Claire. Ethan treats you so well. I’m honestly jealous.” She stepped closer, staring directly at the necklace around my neck. Her lips formed a little pout and her eyes began to redden. “Ethan, I’ve never gotten such an expensive gift from you my whole life. At the auction, I told you how much I loved this ‘Heart of the Ocean,’ and you just pretended not to hear me…” The warmth on Ethan’s face instantly froze, replaced by guilt and indulgence toward his sister. He coaxed her, “Leah, be good. Next time I’ll buy you something nice first.” “I don’t want next time. I like this one,” Leah started whining, reaching out to tug on my arm. “Claire, you’re the sweetest. Can you just let me try on the necklace? Just for a second. Let me see how it looks. Just to satisfy my little wish…” “I—” Before I could finish, Ethan was already frowning impatiently. “Just let her try it on. It’s just a necklace. Leah likes it so much—why are you being petty with her?” Without even waiting for my consent, he personally unclasped the necklace he’d just put on me and turned to fasten it around Leah’s pale neck. “Ethan, this necklace looks way better on me. Look how beautiful it is!” Leah’s tears vanished instantly as she twirled around, beaming. Ethan smiled indulgently, his eyes full of doting affection. “Our Leah looks good in anything. You’re a natural.” Watching the two of them laughing and playing around in front of me, I felt nothing but nausea. The necklace that should have been mine had spent less than a minute on my neck before becoming a tool to please another woman. I forced a bitter smile. “Is this why you came today? Just to disgust me?” Leah shook her head innocently. “Claire, how can you say that!” “My brother gave you the ‘Heart of the Ocean’ just to make you happy. He’s never bought me a necklace this expensive!” “Before he came, he even called to ask me for advice. I was catching up on sleep after jet lag, and he woke me up with that phone call!” “Honestly, he’s so clueless about how to make a girlfriend happy. Claire, you really need to teach him.” Ethan smiled and patted her head. “Come on now. What kind of sister talks about her brother like this in front of other people?” “I’m not ‘other people’! I’m your closest sister!” In the blink of an eye, they were laughing and playfully shoving each other again. The “Heart of the Ocean” diamond swung back and forth in front of my eyes, stabbing painfully at my vision. I reflected on what kind of temporary insanity had made me open the door for them. Nearby, Leah was being tickled by Ethan, laughing so hard she could barely stand. “You’re so mean! I’m telling Claire all your dirty secrets!” She squirmed free and nimbly ran over to sit next to me, pulling out her phone and opening her photo album. I kept my face cold. I wanted to see just how much lower they could sink.

She tapped on a video. The scene showed the Brooks family study. Ethan was handling some documents. Leah, wearing a silk camisole nightgown, walked in carrying a glass of milk. She set the milk on the desk but didn’t leave. Instead, she climbed directly onto Ethan’s lap. “Ethan, you haven’t told me a bedtime story in forever.” Ethan put down his pen and looked at her helplessly. “How old are you? You still want bedtime stories?” Leah wrapped her arms around his neck and whined, “I don’t care. I want one.” Then she suddenly leaned down and kissed Ethan on the lips. “That’s a down payment.” The Ethan in the video froze. Then his Adam’s apple bobbed and his eyes darkened. He didn’t push her away. Instead, he lifted his hand to her back, his voice turning husky. “You little vixen.” The video cut off abruptly, the image shaking violently. Outside the video, Leah was doubled over laughing. She wiped tears from the corners of her eyes. “I’m telling you, Ethan is so innocent. I was just teasing him and his face turned red as a tomato.” “But of course, he didn’t disappoint me. He carried me back to my room and told me stories all night long.” “No offense, Claire, but is your sex life a little… lacking? Ethan’s physical reaction was way too strong.” The video had just finished playing, freezing on Ethan’s face, written all over with desire. Ethan next to her reached out and flicked her forehead hard. “What nonsense are you spouting? Claire and I have a perfectly fine sex life. Mind your own business.” Leah refused to back down, and the two of them started roughhousing again like I wasn’t even there. The phone was tossed carelessly onto the couch by its owner. I calmly picked it up and sent that video—along with several other disgustingly intimate clips from her photo album—to my own phone. Then I deleted the sending history. When they’d finally tired themselves out, Ethan finally remembered I existed. He was still slightly out of breath as he looked down at me, his tone carrying a trace of commanding generosity. “Alright, you saw it. Even in that situation, all I did was tell her stories. I love you. That should be enough.” “So stop throwing tantrums, okay? Let’s just live our lives.” My chest felt stuffed with rage. So now he was the victim? But I forced that rage down and smiled, nodding. “Okay. I know I was wrong. I won’t do it again.” I was wrong, alright—wrong to think I could just walk away cleanly after breaking up. With scum like him and a homewrecker like her, if I didn’t ruin them both, how could I live up to the three years I’d wasted on him?

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Today was my prenatal checkup. Just as I was about to leave, my husband, Ocean Pack’s Alpha Kael, received a call from his Beta. “Alpha Kael, Lila is standing on the outside of the harbor railing, saying if you don’t come see her one last time, she’ll jump.” He fell silent for a few seconds, then turned to look at me. “Elara, something happened to Lila. I might need to go check on her.” I looked into his eyes and spoke calmly: “Does it have to be you? What about me and the baby if you leave?” Kael’s voice trembled, unable to meet my gaze: “The Beta already called the police, but she won’t let anyone near her.” He gripped my hand tightly, so hard that his knuckles made faint cracking sounds. “Elara, that’s a human life. I promise, once she’s safe, I’ll send her away immediately.” “When I get back, I’ll go with you to the prenatal checkup.” With that, he grabbed the car keys and left without looking back. After he left, I collapsed to the floor clutching my abdomen as blood trickled down my thighs. The housekeeper rushed over when he saw me and carried me to the car, taking me to the hospital. The doctor shook his head at me in the emergency room, his voice full of regret: “Luna Elara, we couldn’t save the baby.” I closed my eyes and nodded gently. The baby was gone. Kael, our fate together has ended as well.

In the third winter of my marriage to Kael, he brought back a young Omega named Lila from the border during a hunting trip. Lila curled up in his cloak, lifting her head to glance at me timidly. Kael said she was being hunted by rogues with nowhere to go, and he wanted to take her in as an assistant. He promised she wouldn’t overstep. But I clearly saw the tenderness in Kael’s eyes when he said this, looking at Lila. I wanted to refuse, but that day, Kael lost his temper with me for the first time. “How can you be so heartless? Where else can Lila go if she doesn’t stay here?” “As Luna, don’t you have any grace at all?” That day, I knew that Kael had crossed the line with this Omega. I watched his figure disappear at the end of the hallway and suddenly laughed. A tearing pain shot through my abdomen as warm blood soaked through my dress. This child that Kael and I had hoped for over three years ultimately couldn’t be saved. After the D&C procedure, I returned to the villa I shared with Kael, my face deathly pale. The old housekeeper drove very slowly, asking nothing the entire way. The car stopped in front of the villa. I was clutching my aching abdomen and had just pushed open the car door when headlights lit up from behind. Kael saw me holding my stomach with my pale face and froze for a moment. Then he took two strides over and scooped me up in his arms. “Elara, what’s wrong? Is your stomach bothering you?” His voice carried panic as his arms tightened, holding me against him. When he lowered his head, a cheap perfume smell wafted over. My gaze swept across his neck, where a fresh red mark was imprinted. After entering the house, I pushed away his arms and stepped back, looking at him with disgust: “Kael, let’s get divorced.” Kael froze in place, then his expression turned irritated and impatient: “Elara! How long are you going to keep this up? I already told you I’ll send her away. Why can’t you be more understanding?” I looked at the man before me, my memories somewhat hazy. In every wolf’s eyes, Kael loved me deeply. He would fight the Rogue King for precious supplies for my sake. He would brawl with the elders who opposed our engagement for my sake. These things once made me believe I was the happiest Luna in the world. Until Lila appeared. The struggle and pain on Kael’s face were just like when he knelt before me begging for forgiveness. The first time I caught Kael and Lila having sex in our marriage bed, he swore to the heavens that he would drive Lila out of Ocean Pack and never see her again. That proud Alpha knelt at my feet in front of both packs. He said he was just confused for a moment, that the one he loved had always been me. At that time, I touched the barely formed child in my womb, softened my heart, and decided to give him one more chance. But now I know this man isn’t worth it. Kael grabbed my hand and opened his mouth with what he thought was devotion: “Elara, I told you this is the last time I’ll see her. Didn’t we agree to make things work? Please stop fighting with me, okay?” Looking at him, I only found the man before me utterly disgusting. I was too lazy to keep arguing with him. I directly called the housekeeper to take me to my room without even glancing at him. The sound of Kael smashing things rang out behind me. I couldn’t care less.

I settled into the lakeside healing cabin in White Moon Pack. I sat by the window wrapped in a thick blanket, my hand unconsciously resting on my abdomen. The old housekeeper brought medicine and meals every day, never mentioning Kael or what was happening at the villa. I was content with the peace, wanting only to completely distance myself from that place full of lies and betrayal. On the third afternoon, the wooden door was shoved open violently. Kael walked in with a chill, carrying several exquisite gift boxes. “Elara, I’ve been looking for you for three days. So you’ve been hiding here.” I didn’t turn around, still looking out the window: “I’m not hiding. I just don’t want to see you.” He walked to my side, reaching out to touch my hair, but I dodged by tilting my head. His hand froze in mid-air, his tone carrying a hint of grievance: “I know you’re still angry. I’ve already sent Lila to the European branch. I’ll never let her appear before you again for the rest of my life. I’ve already done this much. What more do you want?” I finally turned my head to look at him. His reddened eyes looked affectionate and pathetic, but I only felt extreme disgust. Thinking about how he had held Lila with these hands, spoken sweet words to Lila with this mouth, made me nauseous. “Kael, I don’t want anything.” My voice was calm. “I just want to divorce you.” The ingratiating expression on his face instantly vanished. “Divorce? Elara, are you insane? Just because of one insignificant Omega? I already sent her away! Are you still going to hold onto this?” I looked into Kael’s eyes and suddenly remembered long ago, when I first met him. Back then, I met Kael at a bar and fell in love with him at first sight. I believed he was my mate, wanting to spend my life with him. But when I learned he was Ocean Pack’s Alpha, I hesitated. Powerful Alphas always had all kinds of temptations around them. I didn’t know if Kael truly loved me. My parents respected my opinion greatly. They said if I was unwilling, I didn’t need to worry about the century-old alliance. I could take my time finding an Alpha I liked. It was Kael who knelt before White Moon Pack’s altar, swearing to the Moon Goddess. “Elara, I, Kael, will never betray you in this lifetime.” “There will only ever be you as my partner.” “I will protect you and White Moon Pack with my life.” The vows in my ears seemed like yesterday, yet had long become the biggest joke. “Insignificant?” I laughed. “When she was having sex with you in our marriage bed, did you think that too? When you knelt at my feet swearing before both packs, did you think that too?” “That’s all in the past!” He slammed the table, the gift boxes tumbling to the floor from the impact. “I told you I was just confused for a moment! The one I love has always been you! Can’t you be more magnanimous? As Ocean Pack’s Luna, you should have a Luna’s grace!” “I don’t have that kind of grace.” I stood up, took the divorce agreement from the drawer, and threw it in front of him. “Sign it. Let’s make a clean break.” Kael’s face instantly turned pale. He picked up the agreement, his fingers trembling uncontrollably: “You had this prepared all along? You’ve wanted to divorce me all along, haven’t you?” “You forced me to.” I looked at him, my eyes devoid of any warmth. “From the day you betrayed me, things between us were finished.” “I don’t agree!” He violently tore the agreement to shreds, his eyes bloodshot as he looked at me. “The two packs’ alliance has been bound for a century. You think you can just divorce me? Do you want White Moon Pack and Ocean Pack to go to war?” “That’s your problem.” I walked around him toward the door. “I have countless backup copies of the agreement. In three days, I’ll formally submit the divorce application. If you don’t agree, we’ll see each other in court.” “Elara!” He rushed over to grab me, but I dodged to the side. “Get lost. Don’t let me see you again. You disgust me.” Kael looked at my resolute eyes and finally understood I wasn’t just throwing a tantrum. He clenched his fists tightly, nails digging into his palms. Finally, he glared at me fiercely and slammed the door as he left. The snow outside fell heavier. I leaned against the doorframe, slowly sliding to sit on the floor. Tears finally flowed uncontrollably.

I moved back to White Moon Pack’s ancestral home. Mom didn’t ask much, just brought the medicine she’d prepared into my room. At dinner, I put down my spoon and spoke: “Dad, Mom, the baby is gone. I want to divorce Kael.” I cried as I told them everything. Mom’s soup bowl crashed onto the table. Her hand trembled as she touched my flat abdomen. “My poor child, how could you bear all this alone for so long?” Dad’s face turned ashen. After a long silence, he slammed the table hard: “You must divorce that animal! No century-old alliance is worth more than a single hair on your head!” I leaned into Mom’s embrace as the grievances I’d accumulated for days finally broke through. I stayed at the ancestral home. I thought the divorce process would proceed smoothly, but when Dad returned from the territory council hall, he was shaking with rage: “That animal Kael! He’s forcing all the processing plants on the West Coast to break their contracts with us, cutting off our fishery sales!” I shot to my feet, blood rushing to my head. How dare he? How could he have the nerve? I grabbed the car keys and rushed out. I had to ask him if he had even a shred of conscience left. I pushed open the door to Kael’s villa. Kael was half-reclined on the sofa. Lila was wearing my silk nightgown, the moonstone necklace my father gave me for my eighteenth birthday around her neck. She nestled in his arms, feeding him grapes. My treasured white porcelain tea set was now being used by her to brew cheap fruit tea. Hearing the commotion, Kael’s head snapped up, his expression instantly darkening. Lila shrank back, burrowing deeper into his embrace. “Who let you in?” His voice was ice-cold, without a trace of guilt. “Aren’t you the one clamoring for a divorce?” I pointed at the necklace around Lila’s neck, my voice trembling: “Kael, this is my villa. Your little Omega is wearing my things.” “What’s yours and mine?” He frowned, his face full of impatience. “Lila likes it, so what if she wears it for now? As Ocean Pack’s Luna, how can you be so petty and mean?” “I’m petty? You’re working with outsiders to cut off White Moon Pack’s livelihood, and you have the nerve to call me petty?” “You brought this on yourself!” Alpha Kael shot to his feet, shielding Lila firmly behind him. “You insisted on forcing me to send Lila away, then sent rogues to intercept and kill her on the road! If I hadn’t arrived in time, she’d already be dead! I’m doing this to teach you a lesson!” I looked at Kael, finding it utterly absurd: “Kael, she’s not worth my effort to deal with. I find it beneath me.” Kael demanded sharply: “If not you, then who? Besides you, who else would dare hire assassins on my territory?” Lila peeked out from behind him, sobbing softly: “Luna Elara, I’m sorry. It’s all my fault. I’ll leave right now. I’ll never disturb you two again.” As she spoke, she started to get up, but Kael pressed her back down. “Don’t go!” he shouted. “With me here, no one can bully you!” Watching Lila and Kael’s coordinated performance made me nauseous. I wanted to leave this place of trouble as soon as possible. Kael turned to look at me, deliberately softening his tone as he reached for my wrist: “Elara, stop this. I’ve already arranged it. Next week I’ll send Lila to the Antarctic research station. I’ll never let her come back for the rest of her life. Let’s forget about all this and live well together, okay?” Looking at his hypocritical face, the last trace of attachment in my heart turned completely to ash. I pulled my hand back, a shallow smile appearing on my face: “Okay.” Kael froze, clearly not expecting me to agree so easily. The joy in his eyes was impossible to hide: “Elara, I knew you still had feelings for me!” I withdrew my wrist and spoke calmly: “However, next week is the renewal ceremony for the two packs’ alliance. After the ceremony ends, I’ll move back.” He nodded repeatedly, so excited he could barely speak: “Yes, yes, yes! Whatever you say!” I said nothing more and turned to leave the villa. The moment I closed the door, the smile vanished from my face. Kael. Lila. What you owe me, what you owe my unborn child. I’ll claim it all back, principal and interest, at next week’s renewal ceremony.

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It was almost eleven at night by the time Noah finally walked through the front door. He kicked off his shoes, spotted me sitting quietly at the dining table, and walked over to casually brush a stray lock of hair from my forehead. “Why are you sitting in the dark?” he asked. “Saving electricity,” I replied. He let out a soft chuckle and headed into the narrow kitchen, returning a moment later with a steaming bowl of plain oatmeal. “Eat up. You haven’t been taking care of yourself again.” I stared at the bowl. The steam curled into the cold air. “Noah,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “What is that custom jewelry receipt all about?” His hand froze in mid-air. It was only for a fraction of a second. Then, his easy smile returned. “I ordered it for a guy at the office. You went through my pockets?” “It fell out while I was doing your laundry,” I said. “Twenty-five thousand dollars. Your coworker must be incredibly generous.” He looked down, smiling as he nudged the bowl closer to me. “Well, the guys in corporate make the big bucks. Now eat.” He sounded so relaxed. So casual. He sounded so convincing I almost believed him. But the twenty-thousand-dollar monthly deposits burned in my mind, searing hot and painful. He picked up his phone to reply to a text. The screen lit up in the dark room. The contact name was a single red heart emoji. Followed by one word. Wife. 1 I lowered my eyes and slowly forced down the bowl of bland oatmeal. I didn’t say another word. The next morning was Saturday. Noah left the apartment bright and early, claiming his department had an emergency data audit. I sat on the edge of the mattress for a long time. Finally, I picked up my phone and typed the address from the jewelry receipt into the GPS. The Azure. It was the most exclusive luxury high-rise in the downtown district. Condos there went for two thousand dollars a square foot. I had never even allowed myself to buy a cup of coffee in that neighborhood. Then, I searched for the name printed on the invoice. Stella. A perfectly curated social media profile popped up instantly. Her feed was a flawless grid of luxury living. Pilates studios, first-class boarding passes, exclusive tasting menus, and designer hauls. Every single photo radiated the effortless glow of a woman who was fiercely, deeply taken care of. Her latest post was from yesterday. The caption read, Hubby worked late but still managed to snag a reservation at my favorite Michelin Omakase. Waited two months for this table. Totally worth it! At the edge of the frame, a man’s side profile was barely visible. Noah. He was holding up a piece of fatty tuna with his chopsticks, offering it to the camera with the softest, most adoring smile. Just last week, I had asked him if we could save up to try a nice sushi place for our anniversary. He told me it was a waste of money and that we could make rice bowls at home for a fraction of the cost. I kept scrolling. A month ago, she posted another update. Woke up to a new car! Hubby was worried about me taking Ubers late at night, so he paid cash for this gorgeous baby. How did I get so lucky? A pristine white Mercedes convertible sat in a brightly lit underground garage. A massive bouquet of red roses rested on the passenger seat. I drove a rusted ten-year-old Honda Civic. The transmission had slipped twice last winter, and he told me to just take the bus because repairs were too expensive. I scrolled further down. Three months ago. Happy three-year anniversary! Woke up to a total smart-home appliance upgrade. Hubby says our sanctuary deserves only the best. Three-year anniversary. Noah and I had been together for eight years. We had lived together for five. That meant right around the time we signed our first lease together, he had started an entirely different life with her. For three whole years. He would lie in bed next to me in our cramped apartment, whispering, “Just hold on a little longer, Anna.” And all the while, he was living the exact life he promised me with someone else. I locked my phone, leaned back against the cheap headboard, and stared at the peeling paint on the ceiling. The roof had leaked last summer. Noah said hiring a contractor was a waste of money, promising he would patch it himself over the weekend. A whole year had passed. The water stain was still there. By four in the afternoon, I drove my beat-up Civic down to The Azure. I parked across the street, watching the massive glass building through my scratched windshield. Warm ambient lighting bathed the luxurious lobby. Security guards in tailored suits stood at attention by the revolving doors. I looked down at my pilled sweater and faded jeans. I couldn’t even muster the courage to walk into the lobby. I sat there all afternoon. Just as the sun began to set, Noah’s car pulled out of the underground garage. A young, beautiful woman was in the passenger seat. She rested her head affectionately on his shoulder. Noah steered with one hand, his other hand gently holding her fingers. He was wearing a smile I hadn’t seen in years. It was a relaxed, genuinely happy smile. The smile of a man without a single care in the world. Whenever he was with me, his brow was always furrowed. He was always exhausted, always annoyed, always stressed about our budget. Their car turned the corner and merged into the city traffic, vanishing from sight. I turned the key in the ignition and slowly drove away. At nine o’clock that night, my phone buzzed. It was an unknown number. Hey. You sat outside The Azure for three hours this afternoon. The concierge showed me the security footage. You’re Anna, right? The one Noah told me about. My fingertips turned ice cold. A second message followed immediately. Don’t panic, I’m not looking for a fight. But I think it’s time we had a real conversation. I typed back, I’m not his ex. I’m his girlfriend. We never broke up. The typing bubble on her end paused for a long time. Anna, you really don’t get it, do you? In Noah’s mind, you two have been over for years. 2 The text messages kept flooding in, lighting up my screen in the dark apartment. Noah told me everything about your severe depression. He said you’re mentally unstable, and he’s terrified to actually pull the plug. He’s scared you’ll do something crazy if he leaves. That’s why he’s been stringing you along, throwing you a few hundred bucks a month to keep you quiet and pacified. I stared at the word pacified. A bitter, acidic knot twisted in my stomach. I typed out a single line. How much did he tell you about me? Stella replied instantly. I know all of it. I know your mom lost her mind and jumped off a balcony. I know you were bullied growing up, and I know about the scars on your wrists from high school. Noah said he’s been taking care of you for years, but he is completely drained. He said you’re like a black hole. No matter how much love he pours into you, it’s never enough. My hand hovered over the keyboard. I couldn’t form a single word. Those memories were a dark abyss. It took me over a decade to crawl my way out of that hell. It took me years of therapy to finally stop waking up screaming in the middle of the night, to walk down a dark street without trembling, to finally look in the mirror and smile. Noah had always told me my scars weren’t a burden to him. He promised me, looking dead into my eyes, that he would take those secrets to his grave. And now, a woman he had known for less than three years knew exactly where all my deepest, most agonizing wounds were hidden. Stella’s messages kept coming. Look, I’m not trying to hurt you. When we first met, he didn’t mention he had a girlfriend. When he finally confessed, I told him I’d wait for him to handle it. But we truly love each other. Look at what he got me for my birthday last month. A photo popped up. A diamond Tiffany pendant resting on a massive bouquet of crimson roses. The attached card read, Happy Birthday, Stella. You are my forever. My birthday was last month too. Noah had sent me a text. Happy birthday. I’ll make you noodles when I get home. He didn’t even buy me a single flower. He boiled some instant noodles, said he was exhausted from work, and went straight to bed. I sat alone at the small kitchen table, eating the noodles, genuinely believing I was lucky to have a man who worked so hard for our future. Stella sent a voice memo. I tapped play. A sweet, deliberately delicate voice filled the quiet room. “Anna, Noah only loves me. He says you’re suffocating him. Do both of yourselves a favor and just let him go, okay?” I locked my phone and walked out onto the tiny balcony. The night wind bit at my face. Down on the street, the yellow glow of the streetlights washed over the pedestrians. Everyone was moving so fast. Nobody stopped. I stood there for a very long time, staring out at the city until my shoulders went numb from the cold. When I finally stepped back inside, I picked up my phone and sent one last reply. Thank you for telling me. She replied instantly. So you’re finally going to back off? I didn’t answer. Two days later, Noah quietly unlocked the front door. His luggage still had the airport tags on it, and he had changed into a fresh button-down shirt. When he saw me sitting on the worn-out sofa, he offered a tired smile and handed me a small plastic shopping bag. “Hey, Aud. The business trip was insane, but I managed to grab you some of that fudge you like.” I took the bag. It was a five-dollar box of stale fudge you could find at any gas station. He went on a “business trip” and brought me back five-dollar candy. He bought the other woman a twenty-five-thousand-dollar diamond ring. I looked up at his face. I spoke slowly, enunciating every single syllable. “Noah, where exactly did you go for this business trip?” “Seattle,” he lied effortlessly. “Then why did Stella post a photo of you two on a beach in Cabo two days ago?” The living room fell dead silent. The tired smile completely froze on Noah’s face. He slowly walked over and sat on the far end of the sofa, interlacing his fingers, staring down at the scuffed floorboards. A long time passed before he finally spoke. “You know everything.” It wasn’t a question. It was a hollow, emotionless sigh. 3 “Yeah,” I said evenly. “I know everything.” Noah rubbed the bridge of his nose and finally looked at me. There was no panic in his eyes. There was no guilt, either. There was only a chilling, settled calmness. “Anna, I’m done lying to you.” “Stella and I have been together for almost three years.” “She’s the woman I am going to marry.” The words hit my chest like a crowbar. “And what about me?” I asked. Noah’s gaze flickered. “You?” He let out a dry, humorless laugh. “Anna, it’s not that I don’t care about you. But you are just too heavy.” “Every single day we’ve been together, I’ve had to manage your emotions, your depression, your paralyzing fears.” “Do you have any idea how exhausting that is?” “I never asked you to carry me,” I said, my voice steady but tight. “I’ve been going to therapy. I’ve been taking my medication. I’ve been getting better.” Noah shook his head slowly. “You think you’re getting better. But I’m not.” “Every day, I come back to this miserable four-hundred-square-foot box. I have to look at your nervous, walking-on-eggshells face. I have to look at the cheap curtains and the water stains on the ceiling.” “I feel like I’m suffocating.” His phone buzzed on the coffee table. He glanced at it. He didn’t pick it up, but the corners of his mouth twitched into a faint, involuntary smile. “Then why didn’t you just break up with me?” I asked. “Why sneak around for three years? You could have just ended it.” Noah took a deep breath, finally saying the quiet part out loud. “Because I was terrified you’d kill yourself.” He stared at me, his eyes dead and cold. “Your mother felt like she couldn’t handle life anymore, so she threw herself off a balcony.” “You are exactly like her. The second things get tough, your mind goes straight to the edge.” “That night in high school, when you called me bleeding… my hands shook for hours.” “I am not going through that again.” “So I stayed. I kept you company. I coddled you. I gave you a few hundred bucks a month to make sure you could survive.” “But Anna, that wasn’t love.” “That was…” He paused, searching for the word. “Pity.” I sat perfectly still. It felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over my head. I was fourteen the day my mother jumped. A crowd had gathered around the concrete courtyard. I ran down the stairs so fast I lost one of my shoes. She was lying on the pavement. Blood was pooling out from her dark hair. Her eyes were half-open, staring at nothing. I had to change schools three times after that. In every hallway, the whispers followed me. Her mom’s a psycho. Her mom took the quick way down. She’s going to end up just like her. Noah was the only one who stood between me and the bullies. He had gripped my hand tightly and promised, “Anna, you are not your mother. You are going to be okay.” He was the one who dragged me out of the absolute dark. And now, he was sitting on my cheap sofa, ripping open my deepest, most agonizing scars, using them as justification for his betrayal. My throat constricted. My voice shook violently. “Noah… you swore to me. You promised you would never use my mother against me.” He shrugged casually. “I’m not using it against you. I’m just stating facts.” “It’s different with Stella. When I’m with her, life is easy. It’s fun. I don’t have to watch her every second to make sure she doesn’t mentally shatter into a million pieces.” “Your anxiety, your trauma, your constant fear… it’s just too much weight.” “I can’t carry it anymore.” The doorbell rang. Noah stood up and walked to the door. Stella was standing in the hallway, wearing a bright yellow designer sundress. She immediately looped her arm through his. She shot me a look, her voice dripping with condescending concern. “Noah, are you okay? I was worried you wouldn’t be able to handle her alone.” I stood up and locked eyes with her. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to touch either of you.” Noah squeezed Stella’s hand and looked back at me. “Anna, I never wanted to hurt you. Let’s just end this peacefully, okay?” I gripped the edge of the dining table to keep myself standing. My legs felt like water. “Okay.” They walked out together. The moment the door clicked shut, my legs gave out. I collapsed onto the floor. My entire body shook uncontrollably. But I didn’t cry. I couldn’t force out a single tear. 4 I didn’t step outside the apartment for four days. I drew the blackout curtains tight. I tossed my phone onto the far end of the sofa, flinching every time the screen lit up. Stella’s messages were relentless. I knew it was her because the phone buzzed in rapid succession every few minutes. On the fifth day, I finally picked it up. Thirty-two unread messages. She had sent me screenshots of her private chats with Noah. Babe, I booked the bridal boutique. We’re going in for fittings next month. Did you pack your bags? Our flight is early tomorrow. I’ll pick you up. Miss you. FaceTime me tonight. Every single message was like a red-hot iron rod, driven deep into flesh that had already gone numb. She sent one final paragraph. Anna, Noah noticed your phone was off. He said he was incredibly relieved. He hated it when you threw your little episodes. He said when your brain misfires, no one can stop you. He said you’re exactly like your crazy mother. Exactly like your crazy mother. Those words looped in my head like a broken record. I threw the phone as hard as I could at the floor. Then, I slowly bent down and picked it up. The screen was splintered, but it still worked. I slumped against the kitchen counter, staring at the cheap aluminum pot on the stove. The pot Noah used to boil my oatmeal every morning. A faded sticky note was still clinging to the fridge. His handwriting. Don’t forget to eat breakfast. Eight years. He used to sit in the back row of our high school homeroom, sneaking the best parts of his lunch onto my desk. I would tell him I wasn’t hungry. He would say, If you don’t eat, I don’t eat. He was the one who called the police on my stepdad. The day the cops finally dragged that monster out of our house, Noah had pulled me into his chest, holding me so tight I could barely breathe. He had whispered, Anna, no one is ever going to put a hand on you again. I will protect you. His eyes were red, his chin resting softly on top of my head, his chest radiating heat. That was the first time in my entire life I felt like surviving wasn’t an impossible task. But look at him now. He took all of my most precious, vulnerable memories and weaponized them to justify throwing me away. I had no idea when the shift happened. When he started playing the dutiful martyr to my face, while calling me a psycho behind my back. On the evening of the sixth day, I took a long, burning hot shower and put on clean clothes. I turned on every light in the apartment and scrubbed the place top to bottom. Then, I started packing. I only packed the things that strictly belonged to me. My toothbrush. My towels. The dark red cardigan my grandmother knitted for me right before she passed away. I left the reading lamp he bought me. I left the shoebox full of love letters. I picked up the framed photograph of us by the TV and placed it face down on the wood. I zipped up my suitcase and dragged it to the front door. I took a sticky note and a pen from the counter and wrote exactly four words. Eight years. Paid in full. I slapped the note on the shoe rack and dropped my keys right next to it. When I stepped out, the hallway was perfectly quiet. The elevator dinged. I pulled my suitcase inside and hit the button for the lobby. Right before the metal doors slid shut, I took one last look at the place I used to call home. And then, I never looked back.

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There’s a guy on my Snapchat who loves showing off his body. He frequently posts mirror selfies flexing his muscles. I used to wonder which player was casting such a wide net. Later, I found out—his stories are only visible to me. 01 I swiped onto another post from our resident thirst-trapper. As usual, it was a photo. But this time, the style had changed, giving off a vibe of coy restraint. His hand lifted the hem of his t-shirt, revealing deeply defined abs. He was wearing loose gray sweatpants, the drawstrings hanging naturally—one long, one short—stealing all my attention in their extreme asymmetry. I stared at it for a moment, and my face silently flushed red. I forget when I added him, but as far back as I can remember, his stories have been exclusively these kinds of photos. Abs, biceps, back muscles… He posted one every few days, persistently tugging at people’s heartstrings. I assumed he was a total player, for three reasons: First, he never showed his face. Second, he was incredibly good at teasing. Third, he lacked any sort of modesty. —What kind of decent, upstanding man posts stories like this! I originally just watched with a “might as well look if it’s there” mentality, but today, it kind of went to my head. Those gray sweatpants really did something to me. My sleepiness vanished completely. I forwarded the photo to him and started a chat: “Is it cold in your house? Why are you wearing so much today?” I sent the message, but he didn’t reply. I didn’t know if he was busy or just ignoring me. I didn’t dwell on it. Seeing that my lunch break was almost over, I hurried to catch some sleep. When I woke up, it was to the loud chatter in the office. My female colleagues were gathered in small groups, clutching their phones and wailing, “I’m heartbroken, I’m heartbroken.” In my groggy state, I caught fragments of the conversation. It seemed some celebrity had just gone public with a relationship. I reached for my phone, clicked on the Twitter trending topics, and froze when I saw the name at the top. #ChloeMillerLiamHayes# The person who went public was my best friend! Fueled by the indignation of “how dare she not tell me she’s dating,” I clicked on the hashtag. The video content left me even more dumbfounded. It was from the recording of a late-night talk show. The cameras zoomed in on each guest’s phone. The game segment required each guest to post a story claiming they were unhappy and see who received comfort first. Among the phones placed on the table, the one on the far left was the first to get a notification. It was Liam Hayes’s. The host eagerly opened it, still making conversation: “Let’s see who it is—” His voice abruptly cut off, and he stood frozen. Because in the chat window, there was no comfort. None at all. Instead, there was a borderline-inappropriate photo of a man, accompanied by a line of text: “Is it cold in your house? Why are you wearing so much today?” The video ended there. The quality wasn’t great—it was probably filmed by an audience member—but even with poor quality, it was clear enough to see the details in the chat window. The sender’s profile picture was of the actress Chloe Miller, saved under the contact name “Momo.” She had sent the award-winning actor, Liam Hayes, a highly private photo he had never released to the public, accompanied by intimate—even borderline harassing—words! Since Chloe had previously stated in interviews that her childhood nickname was “Momo,” netizens universally concluded this was her. Thus, the relationship between Chloe Miller and Liam Hayes rocketed to the top of the trending list. I rubbed my cheeks, the shock so immense I wondered if I was still dreaming. The conversation with the thirst-trapper was still sitting right there on my screen. With trembling hands, I tapped it open. The exact same content blasted my retinas once again. I had a stark realization—the guy who posted thirst traps on Snapchat every few days was the Hollywood A-lister, Liam Hayes. 02 The trending topic was still blowing up. The most triggered ones were the fans: “Usually you don’t even show an ankle, and you button your shirts all the way to the top. I thought you were the most modest guy out there, but…” “What is this? Liam Hayes’s abs, let me touch! What is this? Liam Hayes’s abs, let me touch!” “Has anyone managed to get a high-res version of this? I need it for my lock screen.” “Just a casual observer here, but is this Liam Hayes’s usual vibe? This is hot.” That last comment had the most replies. I clicked into the thread and was nearly blinded by a screen full of “HE IS NOT!” Undoubtedly, the fans were shocked. But I was equally shocked! I scrolled through the comments, trying to use the fans’ shock to offset my own. Before I could fully process it, a new notification popped up at the top of my phone. It was from my best friend, Chloe, and she sent a screenshot. Chloe: “Audrey, please tell me this isn’t you.” The screenshot was of that exact conversation. Indisputable. I hung my head and admitted: “It’s me.” She sent a string of ellipses and asked genuinely: “How did you manage to strut your stuff right in front of Liam Hayes?” Honestly, I wanted to know too. I was just engaging in some ordinary ogling, how did I end up experiencing social death in front of the entire nation? Although, currently, the one experiencing social death was my best friend… Afraid of causing her trouble, I couldn’t help but ask: “Is this going to be a huge mess?” She replied: “It’s fine on my end. It wasn’t me anyway, I’ll just clarify it. Liam Hayes’s side is the tricky one.” I pursed my lips, still digesting the fact that “the thirst-trapper is Liam Hayes.” My best friend started probing: “What exactly is going on between you and Liam Hayes?” I didn’t know how to answer, so I just said: “He’s the player I told you about before.” My best friend slapped her desk in shock: “So you were the one he was trying to hook all along!” “…” I felt this was basically equivalent to a fairy tale. Liam Hayes and I were complete strangers. He didn’t know me, and I didn’t know him. Or rather, I knew of him; I knew he was a massive star. Aside from that, we had zero connection. How could he possibly be trying to hook me? Just as I denied it, another new message popped up at the top of my phone. It was the other party involved in the scandal. He replied to me. Liam Hayes: “I’ll try to wear less next time then.” “…” Dude, are you sure you didn’t hook the wrong person? 03 If he were just a regular guy on Snapchat, I might have bantered back. But he wasn’t. He was the acclaimed actor, Liam Hayes. I couldn’t fathom how he had the leisure to flirt with me, a stranger on the internet? After the incident, my best friend immediately issued a clarification, stating she was not the person sending the messages. Her friends in the industry also vouched for her, proving that her personal Snapchat was not that account. As for me, I quickly changed my profile picture and display name, terrified that people around me might figure something out. Only Liam Hayes, at the center of the storm, remained completely silent. No PR statement, no clarification. It was as if he had no idea the internet was tearing itself apart over him. The biggest target of criticism was the collapse of his public persona. After all, Liam Hayes had previously been known as Hollywood’s paragon of modesty. He kept his nose clean, had zero scandals, and his life consisted only of acting and hitting the gym. He had almost no other hobbies, and didn’t even touch alcohol or cigarettes, which are ubiquitous in the industry. He was a gentleman, polite, and always covered up. The media had even interviewed him about his habit of “not showing a single inch of skin.” At the time, Liam stated: “Only my wife gets to see my body.” When that interview clip dropped, it was instantly shared and praised by countless netizens, cementing his status as the “modesty paragon.” Let’s just say, the harder they praised him then, the harsher they mocked him now. Because the guy who claimed “only my wife gets to see my body” was secretly blasting thirst traps everywhere. I also felt his public persona was a bit fake. If only his wife could see it, what was he doing posting on Snapchat all day? Photo after photo, I had practically seen his entire body. Was I his wife? As it turned out, I underestimated Liam Hayes’s resilience. The very moment his Snapchat account was exposed, not only did he not lay low, but he actually posted another story that night. Still a photo. But the style was much more explicit than before, and true to his word, he was wearing a little less. I honestly didn’t know what to say anymore. I could only sigh at how incredibly fake Hollywood personas were! Liam Hayes was practically a master-level player, casting a wide net, yet he managed to be called the “modesty paragon” of Hollywood… It was the joke of the century! I decisively chose to block his stories. Unexpectedly, moments later, Liam Hayes actually reached out to me with that same photo. He asked: “Is this okay?” I had no desire to play games with him and asked bluntly: “What exactly do you want?” He was even more blunt: “I want to date you.” I was so freaked out I deleted him right then and there! Even after deleting him, my heart was still pounding. Thank goodness my best friend warned me. Turns out I really was just one of the fish in his pond! 04 I had just escaped the pond, but my best friend was caught in his clutches. It turned out she and Liam Hayes already had a professional connection; they were set to co-star in a commercial for a luxury bottled water brand. The contracts had been finalized ages ago, but the official announcement had been delayed. Now that the collaborating brand saw dating rumors swirling around their two spokesmodels, they decided to capitalize on it. The commercial shoot was urgently moved up on the schedule. Afraid my best friend would be taken advantage of, I warned her repeatedly: “You must be careful around Liam Hayes!” She nodded in agreement. Who knew that on the very first day of shooting, she’d drop a massive bombshell on me. Chloe: “Turns out Liam was the one who recommended me to the brand for this commercial!” My head instantly filled with question marks. While confused, I was also amazed. This guy Liam is casting a seriously wide net! I asked urgently: “How is it? Has he harassed you?” My best friend’s reply surprised me: “No, he’s totally normal. If you hadn’t told me, I would never have imagined he’s that kind of person in private.” I typed back, distressed: “It’s all a persona!” Afraid she’d let her guard down, I called her directly and told her about Liam saying he wanted to date me, emphasizing heavily: “He’s literally just trying to hook whoever he can!” To my surprise, my best friend missed the point entirely: “So he really does want to date you!” Me: “?” She went further off track: “Do you think Liam gave me this commercial gig because of you?” I couldn’t take it anymore, feeling a surge of frustration: “Why are you giving a player such a romantic backstory!” My best friend suddenly laughed: “What if he isn’t a player?” “Of course he is,” I argued. “What normal person posts stories like that? At first, I thought he was looking for a sugar mama.” My best friend laughed harder: “I think the only person he wants to hook is you.” I was speechless: “We don’t even know each other.” “Maybe you two—” Her voice cut off abruptly. Immediately after, a clear male voice came through the phone: “Can I sit here?” Thanks to the internet drama these past few days, I could instantly recognize that this voice belonged to Liam Hayes. Clear, clean, and highly distinctive. “Go ahead,” came my best friend’s voice. After some rustling sounds, Liam asked: “Are you close with Audrey?” “…Yes,” my best friend sounded like she was holding back laughter. “Then do you know why she deleted me?” Liam’s tone was so puzzled. “If she wasn’t satisfied with the photos, I can push the boundaries a bit more.” “Pfft,” my best friend finally laughed out loud. After a long pause, her rather eager voice sounded: “Should I ask her for you?” “Please,” Liam said politely. As soon as he left, my best friend couldn’t hold back her laughter anymore, laughing continuously, making me incredibly annoyed. I snapped: “Stop laughing!” She finally gave a couple of ‘hahas’ and said teasingly: “He seems to know you.” Me: “…” 05 Eggged on by my best friend, I visited the commercial set. The area had been cleared, but a large crowd had still gathered, forming three dense rings of people. Through the crowd, I spotted Liam Hayes right away. This is probably that legendary star quality; he stood there, and my eyes couldn’t see anyone else. He was wearing a solid black tracksuit, looking elegant and tall. Currently, he was bending slightly while his assistant sprayed water on the loose hair at his forehead and temples. It seemed the assistant’s hand slipped, and a mist of water rushed into his eyes. The air froze for a few seconds. I saw him blink his eyelashes lightly, the water droplets sliding down. He opened his sparkling eyes and comforted the assistant: “It’s fine, keep going.” I thought silently, He has a pretty good temper. As if sensing something, Liam looked with pinpoint accuracy in my direction. He looked surprised at first, then panicked, and a few seconds later, quietly averted his gaze. But his pale, jade-like profile slowly turned red, visible even to the naked eye. When I got closer, I even heard the stylist exclaim, “Did you already apply blush?” My best friend was snickering next to me. She whispered teasingly: “You really don’t know him? But he blushed the second he looked at you.” To be honest, I was also quite baffled. Is Liam Hayes really this innocent? But would an innocent person post stories like that? The next second, my best friend cleared up my confusion. Just as the commercial was about to start shooting, she tossed her phone to me, saying simply: “Just added Liam on Snapchat, go look at his stories.” While muttering “What’s there to see,” I obediently tapped it open. The result surprised me. His stories page was completely clean, empty. There was no “Friend only allows viewing of the last 3 days” message, it was just literally empty. But I clearly remembered that when I looked a few days ago, it was full of thirst traps. Did he delete them, or put me on a custom list? Looking at Liam not far away, I found him harder and harder to figure out. The commercial shoot wrapped up quickly, and the crew discussed where to go for dinner. I waited beside my best friend, feeling a gaze seemingly fixed on me. I followed the feeling. No matter from which angle I looked, at the end of that gaze was Liam Hayes. My best friend watched like she was enjoying a show: “If you have something to say, say it. If you have questions, ask. Staring won’t get you any answers.” I was still debating whether to ask when Liam walked over. He was cleaned up and looking sharp, wearing a well-fitted dress shirt and trousers. Uncharacteristically, two buttons at his collar were undone, exposing a small patch of skin. Perhaps because he wasn’t used to exposing skin, as he walked steadily towards us, he subconsciously tugged at the slightly open collar. A very simple movement, but done by him, it was exceptionally alluring. When Liam reached us, he looked at Chloe first and said: “The dinner is at the Grand Hyatt.” My best friend feigned surprise: “Since when do we need you to personally deliver this kind of news?” Liam choked. He seemed to shift his gaze out of embarrassment, quietly turned to me, and without making a sound, mouthed the question: “Are you coming?” I felt a profound sense of absurdity and helplessness in that moment. To me, this action looked exactly like a couple pretending not to know each other in public, while secretly flirting behind everyone’s backs. Were we really that close? It wasn’t the place to talk, but I couldn’t hold back. I took a step closer to him, using a piece of equipment for cover, and whispered: “Do we know each other?” He nodded: “Yes.” “Then the Snapchat stories were…?” He stared at me for a long time, seemingly gathering courage, and said slowly: “The stories were for you.” He leaned in close to my ear, his bright red earlobe right in my line of sight, and added softly and slowly: “Only for you.” Boom. My ears burned red too.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “440334”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 Twenty years ago, I was stolen from my crib. Most of my life was spent in a maximum-security psychiatric ward, where doctors labeled me a high-functioning sociopath. When my biological parents finally found me, I changed. I didn’t want to scare them, so I became a timid, fragile girl who startled at her own shadow. My mother treated me like glass, brewing bone broth each afternoon and choosing pink lace-trimmed pajamas for me. My father kept his voice soft, afraid to startle me. My brother Connor wouldn’t even let me carry plates, worried I’d get hurt. But today, the act ended. Valerie, the daughter they raised before finding me, came to seize my father’s company shares. She kicked the door in, her billionaire fiancé Peter beside her. She smashed Connor’s arm with a baseball bat, then forced my mother to her knees on broken glass. Peter pointed at me and sneered, “Crawl over and lick my shoes clean. Do it well, and I might leave your bodies whole.” I watched blood drip from my father’s lip. Deep inside, the last thread holding me back snapped. I sighed softly, locked the front door, and picked up a serrated boning knife from the kitchen. Looking at my parents, I said, “Close your eyes. What happens next isn’t for family viewing.” Peter pressed his designer shoe harder into my mother’s hair and let out a bark of laughter. “You’re out of your mind, sweetheart. What are you gonna do with that?” The bodyguard standing next to him cracked his knuckles and raised a steel pipe. I didn’t answer. I just walked toward him, my slippers crunching over the bloody glass. The bodyguard swung the pipe in a lethal arc aiming for my skull. I sidestepped, letting the heavy steel slice through empty air. I grabbed his wrist, locking my fingers around his pulse point, and twisted violently outward. A wet crunch echoed through the living room. Before he could scream, I drove the heavy brass pommel of the knife directly into his temple. He dropped like a sack of wet cement. I wiped the bloody handle on the shoulder of his tailored suit, stepped over his twitching body, and kept walking toward Peter. “Don’t you take another step!” Valerie shrieked, her face pale as she peeked out from behind the ruined sofa. “Do you even know who Peter is?” she yelled, her voice trembling. “The people backing him will wipe you off the map! You lay a finger on him, and the entire Cohen family burns with you!” I stopped. I slowly turned my head to look at her. “Valerie.” She swallowed hard. “What?” “Did you just say you were extorting these shares to save the Cohens?” Her eyes darted around the room. “Look, Riley, I know it sounds awful. But my hands are tied. Peter’s family agreed to inject thirty million into the company, but only if they get controlling interest. Arthur and Eleanor are getting old. Connor’s health is declining. If I marry into his family, I can at least keep an eye on them.” I nodded slowly, letting the words hang in the air. “So, you’re the good guy here.” “I’m glad you finally understand.” “You’re a saint,” I said, staring at the serrated edge of my knife. “So get on your knees.” Valerie’s voice hit a shrill pitch. “Are you psychotic?!” “Yes.” I closed the distance before she could blink. I twisted my hand into her hair and slammed her downward, her kneecaps cracking against the hardwood floor with a sickening thud. My mother pushed herself up, her voice quivering. “Riley.” “Mom, I told you to keep your eyes closed,” I said, my voice completely flat. “I’ll help you change your clothes in a minute. Some ice will take care of the bruises.” Behind me, Peter roared. He snatched up a heavy oak dining chair and hurled it at the back of my head. I tilted my neck. The chair leg grazed my ear and shattered against the wall. Releasing Valerie’s hair, I pivoted. Peter was still frozen in the follow-through of his throw. I looked down at his expensive Italian loafers. “What was that you said earlier? Crawl over and lick your shoes?” Peter took a shaky step back. “Let’s talk about this.” I snapped my leg up and brought the heel of my boot down on the bridge of his foot with every ounce of my weight. Peter let out a guttural shriek, folding completely in half as he collapsed to the side. I grabbed him by his expensive silk tie, dragging his dead weight across the floor until he was inches from my boots. I pressed the tip of the boning knife under his chin, forcing his head up until he was choking on his own tie. “Leaving our corpses intact,” I whispered. “How exactly did you plan to do that?” Peter just gurgled, his mouth full of blood from where he had bitten his own tongue. The remaining two bodyguards exchanged a panicked glance and lunged at me together. I shifted my weight. The blade sliced clean through the first man’s wrist tendons. His steel pipe clattered uselessly to the floor. The second man leaped onto my back, locking his thick forearm around my throat. I dropped my center of gravity, ducked my chin, and threw my head back, smashing my skull directly into the bridge of his nose. Cartilage shattered. He stumbled backward, clutching his ruined face. I walked over to the kitchen sink, casually rinsed the blood off my hands, and looked back at Peter. He was curled up on the rug, cradling his mangled foot. “Security!” he screamed, his voice cracking. He slammed a panic button on his Rolex. “Breach on the perimeter!” I tossed the knife into the fruit bowl and walked over to my brother. Connor was slumped against the wall. His arm was bent at a grotesque angle, his forehead slick with cold sweat. “Connor, how bad is the pain?” “I’m good,” he gasped out, trying to force a smile. “Barely feel it.” I patted his cheek. “Hang in there.” My dad was sitting in the corner. His lip was bleeding, but he wasn’t looking at his attackers. He was just staring at me. Before I could say anything, a heavy rumble shook the driveway. The sound of combat boots marching in unison drowned out the evening crickets. The front doors were blown inward by a breaching charge. The heavy wood and iron hinges collapsed onto our entryway rug, sending a cloud of drywall dust into the air. Richard, Peter’s father, stepped through the smoke. Behind him stood dozens of hardened enforcers, all gripping heavy steel rebar. Richard looked down at his bleeding son, his face twisting in pure rage. Then he looked at his men. “Kill every single Cohen in this house. Make it look like a home invasion gone wrong. Keep it clean.” 2 Connor forced his good arm over my shoulder, desperately trying to pull me behind him. “Riley, get upstairs, hide.” “Connor, put your arm down.” “I’m fine, my arm is fine.” I looked at the swollen, purple flesh of his broken limb. I gently peeled his fingers off my shirt and pushed him back down to the floor. “Sit. Don’t move.” Dozens of steel pipes were raised high. Richard’s men fanned out, boxing us in from every angle. My mom threw her arms around my dad, squeezing her eyes shut. My dad held her tight, but his eyes never left me. I reached into my sweatpants pocket and pulled out a heavy, military-grade walkie-talkie. A faded, peeling sticker of a cartoon panda was slapped on the back. Richard caught sight of the radio and froze for a split second before a cruel smile spread across his face. “You calling for backup with a toy?” “She really is a psycho,” one of his thugs muttered. I pressed the push-to-talk button. “Feeding time.” Static crackled for three agonizing seconds before a deep, gravelly voice replied. “Copy that.” The signal died. Richard raised his hand to signal his men. I didn’t move a muscle. First came the screech of burning rubber, followed by the deafening crunch of crushing metal. The impact vibrated up through the floorboards, rattling the crystal chandelier above us. Richard’s enforcers spun around. Outside, a massive armored transport had just violently rear-ended Richard’s Maybach, launching the luxury car into the garden wall. A chain reaction of collisions echoed through the estate. The lights in the living room flickered. Richard’s smile vanished. In the gaping hole where our front doors used to be, five heavily armored tactical vans pulled up nose-to-tail. Emblazoned on their sides in stark black lettering was the logo. Blackwood Maximum Security Psychiatric Facility. The side doors were kicked open. A massive man with a jagged scar running down his bald head leaped out. He was wearing faded institutional scrubs, and in his hands, he gripped a heavy red fire ax. Behind him poured a tide of men in matching scrubs. They carried bone saws, crowbars, and heavy chains. They crunched over the ruined front doors and filed into the living room. Richard’s thugs froze, their steel pipes suddenly feeling very inadequate. The scarred man, Grimm, looked around the room. He kicked a piece of shattered brick out of his way, walked straight up to me, and dropped to one knee, bowing his head. “Director.” Richard opened his mouth, but no sound came out. I pointed a finger at Richard’s crew. Grimm stood up, turning to face the intruders. He didn’t say a word. He just waved a hand. Three minutes later, every single one of Richard’s men was pinned face-down against the hardwood, groaning in agony, completely immobilized by the inmates. Richard was backed up against the doorframe, his legs visibly shaking. The walkie-talkie in his hand slipped from his sweaty grip and clattered to the floor. Over by the sofa, Valerie was curled into a tight ball, holding her bruised ribs and sobbing hysterically. “Arthur! Eleanor! Please, you have to save me! I’m your daughter! That crazy bitch is going to murder me!” My father, still sitting against the wall, looked up at her through the wreckage. He stared at her for a long time. “You broke my son’s arm.” Valerie’s sobbing hitched. “You dragged my wife by her hair. You tried to make her kneel on broken glass.” He paused, his voice turning to gravel. “You were my daughter. Whenever you cried as a little girl, it broke my heart. But you hurt my real family tonight. I don’t have a heart left for you.” Seeing his opening, Richard scrambled for his dropped phone. He punched in a speed-dial number, turned his back, and whispered frantically into the receiver. Roman. Boss. Help. I let him make the call. I sat down on the floor next to my brother. I ripped the sleeve off his expensive suit jacket and used it to tie a makeshift splint for his broken arm. Every time I moved the bone, he sucked in a sharp breath. “Bite down on this.” I folded his silk tie a few times and shoved it between his teeth. He bit down hard, breathing heavily through his nose, before squeezing a few words out. “Riley. When you were out there.” “Save your breath, Connor.” “You were only seven,” he rasped, ignoring me. “Seven years old. Taken away all by yourself.” “Connor.” “Yeah?” “Does it hurt?” “Yeah. It hurts.” “Then focus on the pain. Don’t get distracted.” He let out a muffled chuckle and bit down on the tie again. Outside, the chaotic sounds of sirens, heavy diesel engines, and shouting bled into the night air. A booming, arrogant voice echoed from the driveway, cutting through the noise. “Which suicidal piece of trash is making a mess on my turf?” I let go of Connor’s splint and slowly stood up. 3 When Roman walked in, the smell of premium Cuban cigars filled the room. He was flanked by an army of heavy-hitters. He stood dead center in our ruined living room, his cold eyes sweeping over Richard’s pinned men, lingering on Grimm who was still kneeling, before finally locking onto me. Richard practically crawled over the debris to reach him, grabbing onto the sleeve of his tailored suit. “Roman! Thank God you’re here!” Richard pointed a shaking finger at me. “That psycho is a stray the Cohens picked off the street! She ambushed us, snapped my boy’s foot, and look at what her freaks did to my cars out front.” “Get to the point,” Roman said, flicking ash onto our rug. “These guys are wildcards. I can’t handle them. I need you to clean this up.” Roman grunted. He raised two fingers. Hundreds of hardened syndicate enforcers flooded the property, completely surrounding the estate. They drew machetes, brass knuckles, and heavy iron bars. Grimm stood up, stepping protectively in front of me, but the sheer number of Roman’s men forced him back a step. Roman strolled over until he was invading my personal space. He looked me up and down. “What’s your name, little girl?” “Riley Cohen.” “Cohen,” he mused, pulling the cigar from his lips. “Do you have any idea how much weight that name carries in this city?” I didn’t blink. “I’ve been backing Richard’s plays for twenty years,” Roman continued, blowing smoke in my direction. “This city is mine. It is not a playground for some mental ward runaway.” He didn’t even look at me as he gave the order to his men. “Hack off both her hands. Throw her out on the Cohens’ front lawn. Let the old man know his family’s credit has officially expired.” “Roman,” I said. “What?” “I’m just wondering,” I said, tilting my head. “When exactly did a dog like you get a new master?” Dead silence fell over the living room. Roman’s hand, still holding the cigar, froze in mid-air. He stood like a statue for three full seconds before slowly lowering his arm. His eyes narrowed as he reassessed me. “Who exactly…” he lowered his voice to a dangerous whisper, “do you work for?” I said nothing. Richard yanked on Roman’s sleeve again. “Roman, don’t listen to her! She’s a lunatic, just put her down.” Roman violently shoved Richard away. He took a deep breath, forcing a tight, unnatural smile onto his face. “Alright, no need to lose our tempers over a misunderstanding.” He turned to his men. “Just restrain them. Nobody dies. We’ll sort out the politics later.” Hundreds of machetes were raised. Connor tried to slide in front of me again. I clamped a hand down hard on his shoulder. “Connor, sit.” “Riley.” “Sit.” I looked down at the screen of my phone. Three minutes and forty-seven seconds. I slipped the phone back into my pocket and looked up. A deep, unnatural vibration began to hum through the floorboards. It was a heavy, rhythmic thudding that made the remaining glass in the windowpanes rattle. Roman frowned. The mechanical roar grew deafening. One of Roman’s scouts sprinted into the living room, completely breathless. “Boss! There are bulldozers outside! Not just one, it’s a whole damn fleet.” Roman spun around. 4 The rusted steel bucket of the first excavator crashed through the front gates, effortlessly crushing a Mercedes into the asphalt. Right behind it came a second, then a third. Five massive, industrial bulldozers drove in a tight formation, plowing over everything in the courtyard, turning luxury cars and pristine landscaping into mud and scrap metal. Roman’s enforcers scattered in a panic, retreating to the edges of the property. Richard was trembling so violently he had to lean against the wall to stay upright. Roman gritted his teeth and pulled out his encrypted phone, dialing a private number. It rang five times before a voice answered. “Speak.” “Carter, it’s Roman. I’ve got a situation in the Metro district. Some girl brought a small army of mental patients and heavy machinery to level Richard’s estate. Run a background check right now. Cohen family. Riley Cohen. I need to know whose toes I’m stepping on.” A heavy, suffocating silence stretched over the line. “Carter?” “Roman,” the voice finally replied. It sounded completely parched. “What is it?” “The name you just gave me. Riley Cohen.” Carter paused, taking a ragged breath. “Are you on site right now?” “Yeah.” “How far away from her are you standing?” Roman glanced back at me. “About twenty feet.” Another agonizing three seconds of silence. “Roman, I need you to listen to me very carefully. Turn around. Walk away. Do it right this second.” “What the hell are you talking about?” “Do you remember who they used to keep locked up at Blackwood Max?” “You mean…” Roman’s voice dropped an octave. “The Director of that facility. The one who is never actually on the payroll. Take a wild guess who that is.” Roman slowly turned his head to look at me. “Roman,” Carter whispered, the fear bleeding through the speaker. “That girl’s file at the Agency is a black hole. It’s a kill-switch dossier. Anyone who even looks at it disappears. If you can walk out of there tonight, you run. You abandon Richard. This is not your fight.” The expensive cigar slipped from Roman’s fingers, burning a hole into the carpet. He didn’t move a muscle. Richard grabbed him, shaking him frantically. “Roman? Roman! Give the order! Kill these freaks.” Roman just stared at me. He took a slow step backward. “Roman, what are you doing?” “I can’t help you.” Roman’s voice was completely hollow. “You’re on your own, Richard.” Richard blocked Roman’s path, gripping his lapels. “You can’t do this! If you walk out, my family is dead! She’s a monster! Twenty years of loyalty and you’re leaving me to die?!” Roman said nothing. He just stared blankly at Richard’s hands on his suit. His bodyguards rushed forward, physically peeling Richard off their boss. Roman adjusted his cuffs and turned his back to me. He took two steps toward the door and froze. “Roman,” I said quietly. He stayed perfectly still, his back facing me. “You know exactly why I’m here tonight.” I paused, letting the silence stretch. “And you know you can’t cover for Richard. Not when it comes to me. You never could.” “What do you want?” he asked, his voice barely a rasp. “Turn around.” After a long pause, Roman slowly pivoted. He stood ten feet away, facing me directly for the first time since the phone call. “I know you have Richard dead to rights tonight,” he said slowly, trying to regain some composure. “But there are lines even you can’t cross. Commissioner Wyatt runs this city’s special investigations. He’s my blood brother. Every move you make, he’ll know.” I didn’t say a word. “Even if you have the Agency backing you,” he reasoned, “you broke into a private residence. You assaulted half a dozen people. That’s a federal crime. Nobody can sweep this much collateral damage under the rug.” Before he could finish his sentence, the deafening roar of helicopter blades shattered the night. The chopper hovered directly over the ruins of our roof. Down in the courtyard, blinding searchlights cut through the darkness, turning night into day. “SWAT! Everyone on the ground! Hands where we can see them!” Dozens of tactical operatives repelled from the walls, crashed through the shattered windows, and stormed the perimeter. They were dressed in full tactical gear, assault rifles raised. Red laser sights painted every single person in the room. Roman’s men didn’t hesitate. Machetes and pipes clattered to the floor as hundreds of gangsters hit the dirt. Richard scrambled toward the SWAT commander, screaming in relief. “Captain! Captain, thank God! It’s this psychotic bitch! She brought these mental patients to slaughter my family! Arrest her! Shoot her.” Valerie pointed a trembling finger at me, wailing. “Officer, she’s insane! She was going to murder us all! Put a bullet in her, my whole family will testify.” Captain Reed ignored them. He scanned the carnage, gave a hand signal for his men to secure the perimeter, and stepped over the groaning bodyguards. He stopped directly in front of me, his assault rifle leveled at my chest. “Hands in the air. Drop the knife.” “You don’t have the clearance for that,” I said, tapping the toe of my boot against a piece of broken glass. “I said, drop the weapon.” “And I said you don’t have the clearance.” I looked him dead in the eye. “Look very closely before you do something stupid.” His finger tightened on the trigger. “Failure to comply will result in lethal force. This is your final warning.” I didn’t drop the knife. I didn’t raise my hands. Instead, I took a step forward, walking right up to him until the cold steel of his gun barrel was pressing into the space between my eyes. “Last chance,” he hissed, his jaw locked tight. “Who the hell are you?” I brushed my hair out of my eyes, tilting my face up into the blinding glare of the tactical flashlights. “See for yourself.” Reed squinted, his eyes tracing the lines of my face. A soft click echoed as his finger slipped off the trigger. The barrel of the rifle slowly dipped toward the floor. Then, with a dull thud, the weapon slipped from his hands entirely. His knees buckled. He collapsed right into the sea of shattered glass. He swallowed hard, his voice cracking into a high, terrified pitch. “You… Commander…” Roman stood ten feet away, watching the scene unfold in absolute horror. Captain Reed, bleeding from his knees on the glass, trembled as he forced the words out. “Supreme Commander… Black Site Zero.”

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