Category: English

When Alaric Gunn fell into a coma, I scavenged streets to pay his bills while our daughter Joy grew up on charity. Eight years later, he awoke remembering only Erin as his true love. He called Joy a stray to be abandoned, locking me in the basement for three days until she vanished—replaced by pregnant Erin in our home. “Your only job is to serve her,” he said, as others urged patience for his recovery. Until I overheard his doctor expose his fabricated medical history. “A scavenger like you can’t survive alone,” Alaric sneered, unaware I’d sacrificed family and career for him. If his heart held no love, I’d vanish. The doctor’s words sent an icy chill through my body, and I began to tremble uncontrollably. From outside the door, Alaric’s impatient voice cut through the air. “Are you dead in there, Lara? Get out here!” I ignored the pity in the doctor’s eyes, swallowed the acid burn in my throat, and hurried out. Erin was draped over Alaric’s arm. “Alaric, darling,” she cooed, “I haven’t had my transfusion today.” Ever since she’d announced her pregnancy, serving as her personal blood bank had become my duty. I looked down, and a tear splashed onto the cold linoleum floor. “After this one,” I whispered, “I’m leaving.” Surprise flickered in Alaric’s eyes. He glanced at my arm, a canvas of purple and blue bruises dotted with needle marks, and hesitated for a fraction of a second. “Then get out now,” he snarled. “I’ve had enough of a filthy scavenger living in my house. The sour stench clinging to you makes Erin’s morning sickness worse!” As I turned to leave, Erin’s voice stopped me. “You can go. But the gold bracelet stays.” It was the bracelet Alaric had given me on our wedding day. Through all the years of hunger and despair, it was the one thing I could never bring myself to sell. But I knew better than to defy her. The last time I’d failed to peel her shrimp at a restaurant, Alaric had knocked a tooth out of my mouth. I slipped the bracelet off and held it out to her. “Consider it a gift for the baby.” A soft, cruel laugh came from beside me. “It’s just plated,” Alaric murmured. “Worthless.” My hand trembled, and the bracelet clattered to the floor. So even the one memory that had sustained me, the one symbol of a love I thought was real, had been a lie. “Your memory…” I stammered. “It’s back?” “What if it is?” he said, his arrogance staggering. “Erin is pregnant. I have a responsibility to her.” If it weren’t for the hope of finding my daughter, I never would have bowed to them for a second longer. I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood and walked away. But just as I reached the hospital exit, two of his bodyguards grabbed me and dragged me back. When Alaric fell into his “coma,” his assets were frozen. I was left with a mountain of medical debt. I had survived, with my daughter, by begging on the streets. But the moment he “woke up,” he was buying Erin the finest delicacies, surrounding her with guards to protect the precious life in her womb. They threw me back into the room. Alaric looked down at me, his eyes cold and imperious. “You dare to leave before giving your blood?!” The needle pierced my bruised skin again. “Please,” I begged, “after this is done… just tell me where Joy is. Please?” For a moment, a flicker of something—pity? regret?—crossed his face. He reached out as if to steady my swaying body. But then Erin, her eyes flashing with jealousy, let out a soft cry. “Alaric, I don’t feel well.” He immediately spun to catch her, his concern for her absolute. He barked at the nurse, “What are you waiting for? Take more! As much as she needs! She won’t die from it!” As my consciousness faded, the last thing I heard was his chilling, detached voice. “Lock her in the basement. Let’s see her run now.” I woke in the damp, putrid air of the basement, the blood on my clothes dried and stiff. A maid stood over me with a bowl of congee. She tipped it, and the hot gruel poured over my head. “Who do you think you are?” she sneered. “Expecting me to feed you.” My hands were bound tightly. The searing heat on my scalp made me scream. A moment later, I heard the maid’s frantic, lying explanation to someone at the door. “She wouldn’t eat! She knocked it out of my hands!” I forced my swollen eyelids open. Alaric knelt beside me, his fingers digging into my chin, forcing my head up. His eyes were like chips of ice. “Playing the victim for me, Lara? Do you think I feel sorry for you?” “I don’t need your pity,” I rasped. “But our daughter… you have to care about her. Please, just give her back to me.” “Oh, she’s fine,” he said casually. “You just serve Erin well, and you’ll get her back. Don’t forget, this is what you both owe her.” In the shadows, a single tear of agony slid down my cheek. So that’s it. You’ve always believed it was my fault Erin left all those years ago. No wonder you faked a coma for eight years, just waiting for her to come back. No wonder you care so little for our child. No wonder you look at me as if you want to flay me alive. Alaric was throwing a birthday party for Erin, and he let me out of the basement to “help.” When I refused, his voice turned to steel. “Do you think you get to live here for free? You will be at this party. And if you do anything to upset Erin, I’ll make you regret it.” He added, as a final hook, “Behave yourself, and I might grant you one request.” After he had ground me into the dust, what could I possibly dare to ask for? The entire Gunn mansion buzzed with excitement for Erin’s birthday. She wore a gown that glittered with a thousand tiny diamonds, while my own t-shirt was faded and covered in patches. She found me in a corner and dug her sharp, manicured nails into the raw, scalded skin on my arm. I met her gaze, my voice flat. “Don’t get your hands dirty, Miss Vance.” For a moment, she was speechless. Then she leaned in close, a wicked smile playing on her lips. Her voice was a demonic whisper. “Do you know where your daughter is?” “I have her locked up. A few old men come to… play with her every day.” The words exploded in my head. I felt a cord inside me snap. Harm me, break me, but you do not touch my daughter. “You bitch! I’ll kill you!” My hands closed around her throat, but a violent force threw me backward. Alaric was there, cradling a gasping Erin. I hit the floor hard, coughing up a mouthful of blood. “You’re not human, Alaric!” I screamed, the blood staining my lips. “You’d let this monster hurt your own child!” His face was thunderous. “I don’t know what you’re talking about! Stop making a scene!” The guests were arriving, their numbers swelling. Their whispers were like hammer blows, crushing the last of my dignity. “Look at that trash-picker. How dare she even compare herself to a renowned jewelry designer like Miss Vance?” “She really thought having a daughter would tie her to the Gunn family. Only Miss Vance’s child will ever matter to him.” “Shameless. Look at her, crawling on the floor like a dog.” “I can smell the rot on her from here.” I finally found the strength to push myself up, ready to walk away from it all. But Alaric’s voice, cold and absolute, commanded me. “Crawl over here and apologize to Erin. You scared her and the baby.” One step. Two. I didn’t look back. But then his voice turned cruel, twisting the knife. “Don’t you want to see your daughter again?” He knew my weakness, and he used it to gut me. I turned back, defeated. As I finished kowtowing to Erin, my head touching the floor three times, I looked up and my eyes met a pair in the crowd—brimming with tears. After the party, my phone buzzed with a message I hadn’t expected. [Sis, let me come get you. Please? He’s no good for you.] My fingers trembled as I typed a single word: [Okay.] Suddenly, Alaric’s roar echoed behind me. “Lara! Are you good for anything besides lazing around?!” I shoved the phone into my pocket and scrambled to clean the blood I’d coughed up from the marble floor. My tears fell, smearing the crimson stain. I looked up and saw a complex expression on Alaric’s face. “Enough with the crying,” he muttered, sounding almost weary. “It’s bad luck.” He held out his phone. “Here. See for yourself.” A video call. I lunged for the phone, my heart aching more than any needle ever could. It was Joy. Her face was pale and thin. She saw me, but she didn’t dare call out “Mama.” Before I could even speak, the call ended. Alaric crossed his arms, a cold smile on his face. “I told you she was fine. You want to see her? Then you’ll be obedient.” “Have you seen her?” I choked out. “In person? Do you have any idea what Erin is doing to her? Why won’t you let me see my own daughter?!” “Erin is taking perfectly good care of her,” he said, his patience wearing thin. “Stop making trouble. When the time is right, I’ll take you to her.” I looked up at him, my eyes as dead as a stagnant pool. “I see.” There was no “right time.” I couldn’t wait any longer. Alaric opened his mouth to say more, but a call from Erin summoned him upstairs. “Bring up a basin of hot water,” he called over his shoulder as he left. When I entered their room with the water, he was massaging Erin’s swollen calves, a gentle smile on his face. “Is the little one giving you trouble again, my love? Just this one, and then no more, okay? You’ve been through so much.” A bitter smile twisted my own lips. When I was pregnant with Joy, Alaric was already in his “coma.” He had ignored my entire pregnancy, my struggle to survive while carrying his child, all while he peacefully slept, waiting for his golden girl to return. I knelt and expertly began to soak Erin’s feet, my heart a placid lake of indifference. Alaric paused. “Let me do that.” “No need…” I said tonelessly. Before I could finish, the basin was kicked over. Erin shrieked. “Are you trying to scald me?!” The water was only warm, but it soaked me to the bone, leaving me dripping and humiliated. Alaric waved a hand in disgust. “Get out and change. You can’t even do one simple thing right. What use are you? If anything happens to Erin, I’ll hold you responsible!” As I walked downstairs, a new message from him popped up. [I’ll take you to see Joy tomorrow.] But I didn’t believe him anymore.

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The first day of my reincarnation, I realized the Memory-Wipe Potion was watered down. Not only did I have all my memories from my past life, but I also watched as a woman swapped me with another baby girl. Oh, hell no. The life of wealth and luxury I’d spent lifetimes of karma points to secure was being stolen right before my eyes? Not on my watch. Eighteen years later, a girl stormed into my family’s mansion, claiming she was my parents’ real daughter. I just smiled. This was my destiny, and no one was taking it from me. 1 After 800 years of brown-nosing the Administrator of the Afterlife, he finally took pity on me and granted me a chance at reincarnation. I sifted through the celestial archives for ages, finally cashing in lifetimes of good karma for one shot at a life of absolute luxury and happiness. I proudly presented the Fated Life file to the Administrator. “This one. She’s the one I want to be.” Just as I was giggling to myself about the worry-free future ahead, I saw her—a woman, her movements furtive, carefully swapping me with another baby in the nursery. Panic seized me. This could not happen. The second she was gone, I started screaming. I cried until my throat was raw, my voice a shredded mess. Finally, a nurse noticed. She gently scooped me up. “What’s wrong, little one? Are you hungry?” I wailed louder. “Not hungry? Did you wet your diaper, then?” I screamed my head off. “Then what is it?” I was sweating with desperation, wishing I could just open my mouth and tell her what happened. I pleaded, I begged, but all that came out was a pathetic, high-pitched cry. Just as I was about to give up, the head nurse walked in. “Wait a minute,” she said, her brow furrowed. “I don’t remember this baby being in this bassinet.” I stopped crying. And then, I let out a loud, happy gurgle, looking right at her. The sight made both nurses laugh. “What a smart little thing!” The head nurse checked the birth charts, comparing weights and times. Then, her face went pale as she swapped me back with the other baby. The younger nurse looked like she was about to faint. “Oh, thank god you noticed. I can’t even imagine the fallout from a mistake that huge.” The head nurse looked at her sternly. “You have to be more careful. This is the Clark Corporation heiress. If we’d sent the wrong baby home, we’d all be finished.” The stone in my chest finally dissolved. After that day, I never cried again. No one was ever going to steal my life. 2 Coming home with my parents to a sprawling mansion, I smiled with deep satisfaction. I was the heiress to the Clark Corporation. They named me Lila Clark. I also had an older brother, Leo, who was completely and utterly obsessed with his little sister. I’d chosen him specifically. In my last life, my brother had beaten me to death. This time, I desperately wanted a brother who would love me. When I was little, Leo, who was already in elementary school, would wait for me outside my kindergarten every single day. He’d always have a piping hot pretzel tucked inside his coat for me, leaving a red mark on his chest from the heat. When a boy at kindergarten pinched me, Leo rounded up his entire class and beat the kid half to death. When I was in middle school, girls would ask me to pass him love letters and little cakes. He’d throw the letters in the trash and give the cakes to me. “Lila” was the first and last word out of his mouth every day. Growing up steeped in so much love, I’d almost forgotten the chaos of my birth. But of course, on my 18th birthday, the other girl showed up to claim her prize. The party was a massive affair, held at our family’s five-star hotel. A string orchestra played on the main floor while guests mingled, champagne flutes clinking, all wishing me a happy 18th. The presents were stacked to the ceiling like a magnificent Christmas tree. Designer watches, luxury cars, someone even gifted me an entire oceanfront villa. A-list celebrities came to sing “Happy Birthday.” Every important person in the city was there. Luxury brands sent over custom-made gowns. A fleet of drones lit up the night sky, forming a portrait of my face and the words “Happy Birthday, Lila!” I was standing on a balcony, looking down at the glittering crowd below, when she burst in. A girl in a plaid shirt and washed-out jeans pointed a finger straight at my face and screamed, “I’m the real Clark princess!” Her birth mother had swapped us. “Lila Clark is a fraud!” The champagne flute was still in my hand. A shocked silence fell over the crowd. She said her name was Jenna. 3 It was the ultimate gossip-worthy moment. My mother glanced at my father. He shook his head frantically, holding up three fingers in a solemn oath. “I swear, I don’t know that woman! Lila is my only precious daughter!” A small smile played on my lips as I slipped into character. “Mom? Dad? What’s going on?” My mother wrapped a protective arm around my shoulders. “Don’t you worry, sweetheart. We’ll get to the bottom of this.” The next second, Jenna lunged, grabbing my arm and shoving me backward. I stumbled right into the seven-tiered birthday cake. Sticky buttercream ruined my custom designer gown. Gasps rippled through the guests. I struggled to my feet, dazed, and stared at the woman whose face was contorted with a furious jealousy. My parents rushed to pull me up, gently wiping the frosting from my face. My father’s voice was thunderous as he turned on Jenna. “I don’t care who you are! To cause such a scene at a Clark event… it’s clear your mother taught you nothing! Have you no manners?” Jenna seemed momentarily stunned by his authority, but then she latched onto his arm. “Dad! I’m your real daughter! This impostor should be thrown out! She stole my life for eighteen years! Why does she get a party like this?” Her eyes welled up with tears. She looked utterly pitiful. “Today is my birthday, too,” she sobbed. “And I’ve never, not once in my life, had a real birthday party.” My mother helped me up, her expression pained, before turning to Jenna with a rare, severe tone. “Let’s put aside the fact that you’ve come here with absolutely no proof. Even if you were our biological daughter, we would never acknowledge you after a stunt like this! You have no class, no decorum! Look at where you are!” My mother was always gentle; she never spoke harshly. This time, she was truly furious. But something felt off. Something was missing. Where was Leo? I hadn’t seen him all morning. Normally, he’d be glued to my side by now, telling me how beautiful his little sister looked. Thinking back, he’d been distant lately. Could it be? Did he already know about Jenna? My father shot a look at his assistant, who quickly took the microphone and tried to get the party back on track. The rest of us retreated to a conference room in the back. My parents’ brows were knitted with worry. The last eighteen years had been too perfect. This was the scene I had been waiting for. 4 I never knew the identity of the woman who had tried to steal my life. But I knew, with absolute certainty, that she would show up one day. Just as I was lost in thought, the door opened and Leo walked in. “Mom, Dad,” he said, his voice flat. “We’ve been pampering the wrong person for eighteen years. Jenna is our family. She’s my real sister.” Whoa. The brother I’d hand-picked for his sister-doting personality was malfunctioning? Then I remembered. He doted on his sister, not on me. Now that Jenna was his sister, I was just an obstacle. Heh. Interesting. Jenna, now sitting on the sofa, had dropped her aggressive act entirely. Tears streamed down her face, a picture of tragic beauty. She must have just learned the truth herself and rushed here to claim her family, completely losing her composure in the process. Rule number one of the Clark family: never, under any circumstances, tarnish the family’s reputation. In our circle, appearances were everything. My mother spoke first. “Leo! What are you talking about? Are you saying you knew she was your sister?” “Yes. The first time I saw her, I saw the birthmark on her arm.” “I saw it when she was a baby. I remember.” I remembered, too. During the brief time we were switched, my father had brought a five-year-old Leo in to see the new baby. He actually remembered. “So! Lila was the one who was switched!” For a moment, my parents were speechless. Leo pressed on. “I can’t let my sister live like that out on the streets. She has to come live with us.” The brother who had cherished me for 18 years spoke with such chilling detachment. My father sighed. “We need to investigate this properly. In the meantime, this young lady can stay at the villa upstate. After we have the facts, we’ll decide if she’s moving in.” My dear old dad! He was the best. Leo Clark! This means war! But Leo wasn’t done. “No! I won’t have Jenna living so far away! It’s not convenient for us to take care of her. You have no idea how hard her life has been! You haven’t seen the place she lives in!” My mother hesitated. “She can stay here, I suppose. It’s not like we don’t have the room. But Lila isn’t leaving. Even if she isn’t my biological child, I raised her for eighteen years. I won’t be separated from her!” Leo shot back, “Mom! She usurped Jenna’s life of luxury for eighteen years! It’s time for her to go back to where she belongs!” The adoration in my brother’s eyes was gone. In its place was a burning rage, directed at the person who had stolen 18 years of wealth and privilege from his real sister.

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At the final presentation for our startup incubator competition, Joss’s childhood friend, Hailey, demanded to be made team leader. She needed the extra academic honors it would grant to secure a full-ride scholarship to the graduate program. For the good of the project, I refused. She wasn’t qualified. In a fit of rage, she dropped out of the competition and let her parents drag her back to their dead-end town in the rust belt to be married off. I took the reins, and our team won first place. We all got offered spots in the MBA program, and our venture became the talk of the business school. Later, I married Joss. When our company went public, we celebrated on a yacht. As I stood by the railing, six months pregnant, Joss shoved me into the churning black water. He just watched as I drowned. I screamed, my lungs filling with saltwater, “Why?” His face was a mask of cold fury. “If you hadn’t been so selfish, if you hadn’t stolen that leadership spot from her, Hailey would never have been forced into that marriage. She wouldn’t have been beaten to death by her husband. This is what you owe her.” I opened my eyes again, and I was back. Back on the day it all began. … “Lila, please,” a familiar, cloying voice whined. “I’m just a few points short of qualifying for the Dean’s Fellowship. The team leader position in the incubator competition comes with a huge honors bonus. Can you just… let me have it?” The words hit me like a physical blow. I flinched, my eyes darting to the clock on the wall. I was back. I had been reborn into the exact moment Hailey made her demand. In my first life, I had considered the facts. Hailey wasn’t a business major. She had no experience. My parents had promised to invest in our project and connect us with industry titans for mentorship. I couldn’t risk it. I had to refuse her, telling her it wasn’t a good fit. I tried to soften the blow, explaining that if the team did well, we would all be recognized, maybe even all get fellowships. But she took it as a personal insult. A humiliation. She accused me of looking down on her, dropped out of university, and went home with her parents to be married off. After she left, I used my family’s connections to pull in a staggering amount of seed funding and resources. We crushed the competition. Our entire team was offered the Dean’s Fellowship, and we became rising stars in the tech startup scene. Three years later, I married Joss. By the time I was pregnant with our first child, Joss had taken over the reins of my family’s company, and our own startup had just gone public. He was on top of the world, a celebrated mogul. He suggested a private celebration on a yacht, just the two of us. Then, when my back was turned, he kicked me into the sea. The blood from my womb, from our child, blossomed in the dark water like a horrifying crimson flower. I begged him to save our baby, but he just laughed, a cruel, sharp sound, and hurled a heavy block of stone towards my head. “If you hadn’t been so damn selfish and forced Hailey out,” he’d snarled, his voice a venomous hiss, “she wouldn’t have been married off, pregnant, and beaten to death. You owe her this, Lila.” Only in my last moments did I understand. He had hated me, truly hated me, for all those years. “Lila?” Joss’s sharp voice pulled me back to the present. He frowned, grabbing my arm. “Did you hear us? Hailey needs this more than you do. Just give her the spot.” I wrenched my arm away, my gaze shifting from his impatient face to Hailey’s perfectly crafted expression of pitiful vulnerability. A cold, bitter laugh escaped my lips. “Let me get this straight,” I said, my voice dripping with ice. “When we were forming this team, didn’t we all agree? Whoever brings in the funding, whoever contributes the most, gets to be the leader. Now that I’ve secured the investors, you want to kick me to the curb?” Hailey’s eyes instantly welled with tears. “That’s not what I mean, Lila! I just want a chance to stay in school. I’m from a poor family… If I don’t get that fellowship, my parents will force me to go home and marry some old man. Please, just have some pity on me.” And then, for dramatic effect, she sank to her knees before me. The theatrical gesture immediately drew the attention of everyone in the common room. Classmates started to drift over, their curiosity piqued. Hailey, sensing her audience, began to sob even more pathetically. “Lila, I don’t want to go back to that dead-end town and marry some stranger! Please, don’t force me to drop out of school!” The onlookers, hearing her desperate plea, turned on me. “Lila, what the hell are you doing? Why are you trying to force her to drop out? That’s unbelievably cruel.” “Just because her family doesn’t have money doesn’t mean you can bully her like this!” “Wow, Lila. I knew your family was well-off, but I didn’t think you were the type to throw your weight around. This is disgusting.” Joss put a hand on my shoulder, his voice a low, patronizing murmur. “Lila, I know you can be a little… spoiled sometimes, but this is about Hailey’s entire future. You can’t ruin her life over something so small. It’s just a title. What’s the big deal? It’s not like it means that much to you.” His words ignited a firestorm in my chest. It’s just a title? When you all used my leadership as an excuse to dump the work on me, saying, “You’re the leader, you have to take responsibility,” it was more than a title then. All those all-nighters I pulled writing the business plan, where was Hailey? When I had to humiliate myself, begging for meetings with dozens of venture capital firms, drinking until I threw up at networking events to secure our funding, where was Hailey then? And now, with the finish line in sight, when she wants to swoop in and claim the glory, it suddenly becomes “just a title.” “I am not forcing her to do anything,” I stated, my voice dangerously calm. “And let’s be clear: I secured every dollar of our funding and every partnership we have. On what grounds does she deserve to replace me?” Joss scoffed. “Oh, stop acting like you’re the only reason we got funded, Lila. They invested because the team itself is brilliant. Because I’m on the team. Hailey could have done it just as easily. Hell, she probably could have raised even more.” Hailey blushed, looking up at Joss with doe-eyed adoration. “Lila, you can’t deny the strength of our team just to make yourself look more important. Everyone knows Joss is a financial prodigy. I’m sure the investors were betting on him, anyway.” Joss preened, puffing out his chest. “Hailey’s right. I was willing to let it slide before, but if you’re going to be this selfish and try to ruin her future, I won’t stand for it.” I met his arrogant gaze and smiled, a slow, chilling curve of my lips. “Fine. She can have it.” Joss’s face flooded with satisfaction. “See? That’s the Lila I know. You’re being reasonable. You’ll have plenty of other opportunities, but this is Hailey’s only shot.” I nodded agreeably. “Well then, good luck with your project.” Hailey, sensing I was about to walk away, panicked. “Lila, wait. Even though you’re not the leader anymore, you’re still part of the team. So… all the work you were doing? You should probably keep doing it.” I laughed, a sharp, incredulous sound. “Are you serious, Hailey? As team leader, I was responsible for over seventy percent of the project’s workload. You fought tooth and nail to take my place, and now you expect me to keep doing the lion’s share of the work? The audacity is staggering.” Hailey’s face paled. “That’s not what I meant… It’s just, the competition is almost over. It’s too late to change everything around now.” “Oh, I know,” I said, my voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper loud enough for the onlookers to hear. “You know the competition is almost over. That’s why you picked this exact moment to swoop in and steal the credit, isn’t it?” A ripple of understanding went through the crowd. Their expressions shifted from judgment to dawning realization. Murmurs of “schemer,” “user,” and “leech” started to circulate. Everyone had seen me running myself ragged for weeks, the first to arrive on campus and the last to leave. Hailey’s eyes filled with tears again, but this time, no one was buying it. Joss, ever her white knight, stepped in front of her, glaring at me. “Stop twisting her words, Lila! Hailey is just trying to do what’s best for the team. She’s the leader now, which means she’s in charge. You’ll do what she says. And if you refuse to follow orders, we’ll have no choice but to kick you out.” My eyes widened in mock horror, and then I burst into enthusiastic applause. “Excellent! Consider me gone. I quit.” Joss froze, his face a picture of disbelief. “Lila, don’t be impulsive. Hailey is a good person. She won’t hold a grudge against you. If you walk away now, you’ll regret it.” A genuine, carefree smile spread across my face. “Regret it? Oh, I don’t think so. I’m out. From this moment on, I have absolutely nothing to do with you or your little project.” Without a backward glance, I turned and walked away, leaving their stunned, ugly faces behind me. A startup? Who needs the stress? Why grind my life away starting a business from scratch when I could just go home and inherit a multi-billion-dollar corporation? Sure, Joss was talented. Especially after my family had unknowingly funded his rise, burnishing his reputation until he was a golden boy in the finance department. But right now? He wasn’t the legend he would become. His name alone couldn’t open doors or command millions. The investment I had secured wasn’t for him. It was just pocket money from my uncles, a little something to keep their favorite niece happy while she “played” at being an entrepreneur. That evening, I posted a simple update to my private social media story: “Stepping away from the incubator project. On to new things!” The comments from my family flooded in immediately. One uncle wrote: “Quitting already, sweetie? Don’t worry, you can ‘start’ as many businesses as you want. Your dad and us uncles have plenty of cash for you to play around with. Failure is just part of the game!” Another chimed in: “Wait, you’re not doing the startup anymore? Guess I’ll pull my investment then.” My cousin, Maria, who went to the same university, saw the post and added a comment explaining the whole sordid story of how I was bullied into quitting. The comment section exploded. My uncles, furious, declared they were pulling their funding that very night and threatened to blacklist Joss and his little group from ever getting a dime from anyone they knew. I didn’t stop them. The next day, I went to class as usual. With the weight of the competition off my shoulders, I felt lighter, free to focus on my actual studies and prepare for grad school applications. After class, I got a call from my father. He wanted me to draft a proposal for a small partnership deal he was considering. It was a common exercise he gave me, a low-stakes way to learn the ropes of the family business. That afternoon, I took the finished proposal to my father’s office at the Grant Corporation headquarters. He read it over, a pleased smile spreading across his face. “Excellent work, Lila. Sharp and concise.” As I was leaving the skyscraper, someone bumped squarely into me. I looked up. It was Joss. His eyes fell to the file in my hands, and a smug grin lit up his face. “Lila. I knew you couldn’t stay away,” he said, his voice oozing with condescension. “You knew we had a meeting at Grant Corp today, didn’t you? Did you prepare this new proposal for us?” He reached for the file, but I sidestepped him smoothly. “You’re mistaken. This is for me.” His brow furrowed. “Stop playing games, Lila. If you’re not giving it to us, what are you going to do? Start your own company?” I paused. The thought hadn’t even occurred to me. But… he was right. I had done almost all the work. I had the plan, the connections, the drive. Why couldn’t I? A slow, dangerous smile spread across my face. “You know what, Joss? That’s a great idea. I think I will.” And with that, I walked away, ignoring the string of angry, sputtering curses he hurled at my back. Three days later, I officially submitted my own solo project proposal to the incubator program, with all the original funding now redirected to me. As I was leaving campus that afternoon, Joss and Hailey blocked my path.

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1 After my family went bankrupt, I was forced into a cruel game. If Liam Burwell, the scholarship kid, spent ten thousand dollars on me within a set time, a group of rich kids would pay off my family’s debts. I used every trick in the book to make him fall in love with me. But just as we were two hundred dollars away from the goal, he vanished, leaving behind a single, devastating note. “I’m done with this charade.” The next day, intimate photos of us—photoshopped, but damning—were all over the internet. My reputation was destroyed. Soon after, crushed by debt and shame, my parents took their own lives. Five years later, I was assigned to be his fiancée’s private ski instructor. … My heart hammered against my ribs the moment my eyes met Liam’s. I quickly looked away, grateful for the ski goggles and mask that hid my face. But Liam’s gaze was fixed on me, intense, as if trying to see through the tinted lenses. The beautiful young woman beside him, Kathy, playfully flicked the ID badge hanging around my neck. “Kate Miller.” I had changed my name after my parents died. It was a name Liam wouldn’t know. “Liam, honey,” she cooed, “I remember your ex-girlfriend’s last name was Miller, too.” At the mention of my old self, Liam’s gaze fell, his expression unreadable. Then he reached out and affectionately ruffled Kathy’s hair, not denying it. Kathy, seizing the opportunity, recounted the story of how I, the manipulative gold-digger, had tricked the poor, earnest Liam. “That’s just horrible!” someone in their group exclaimed. “People who play with others’ feelings are the worst.” I glanced at Liam. He must have truly hated me, not even offering a single word to defend my past self. If I could, I would have wished none of it had ever happened. Kathy nudged my arm, her eyes glinting with scorn. “What do you think, Kate?” I just nodded quietly. “Yes. You’re right.” Sensing the tension, another friend tried to lighten the mood. “Well, thanks to her, Liam learned how to handle his rivals so ruthlessly.” A cold, humorless smile touched Liam’s lips. “Don’t even mention her. It’s disgusting.” My feet faltered. A sharp, secret pain lanced through my chest. “Exactly,” Kathy chirped. “She’d better not show her face again. If she does, I’ll definitely teach her a lesson.” The group started to move on. Liam noticed I had fallen behind and walked back to my side. “Miss Miller,” he said, his voice now formal and detached. “Kathy is new to skiing. Please make sure she’s safe. Don’t let her get hurt.” He was looking at Kathy’s retreating back as he spoke, his eyes filled with a profound tenderness. But once we were on the slopes, Kathy ignored my advice. She insisted on going to the advanced trail, and I had no choice but to follow. I saw her lose control, careening toward the edge of the run. I lunged forward, tackling her, using my own body to shield her as we tumbled off the trail and into the deep snow. I landed hard, a blinding pain exploding through me. It felt like every bone in my body had been shattered. I begged her to call for help, but she just brushed the snow off her designer ski suit and stood up. “Miss Miller, as an instructor, crashing off the trail… that doesn’t look very good for your reputation, does it?” I looked up, confused by her words. “Oh, stop pretending,” she sneered, her face twisting with malice. “You’re his ex-girlfriend, aren’t you? Iris Miller.” “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to. You only appeared here to try and seduce Liam again, didn’t you?” I tried to push myself up but collapsed back into the snow, the pain making my lips go white. “You’re mistaken,” I stammered, my voice trembling. “This is just my job.” 2 In the distance, Liam’s voice called out. Kathy flashed her phone at me. The screen showed her chat history with him. [Liam, honey, this instructor is insisting on taking me to the advanced trail. I’m so scared.] She used my shoulder to climb back onto the trail, then ran, sobbing, into the arms of the approaching figure. Liam’s voice was tight with suppressed fury. “Where is she?” Kathy sniffled. “She got scared of taking responsibility… and just abandoned me. She ran away.” Liam’s voice softened with concern. “Don’t worry, Kathy. I’ll make her pay for this.” Their voices faded as they walked away. With the last of my strength, I dialed for the ski patrol. I woke up in the clinic to the resort manager screaming at me over the phone. “They demand a face-to-face apology and compensation for damages, or they’re suing you!” Years of suppressed emotions erupted. “It wasn’t my fault!” I shouted, my voice raw. “Kathy was the one who insisted on going to the advanced trail!” There was a long silence on the other end. He was probably shocked. I had always been submissive, a pushover. But I had my pride. I would not admit to something I didn’t do. “Let them sue,” I said, and hung up. A nurse, seeing I was awake, told me I needed to go settle my bill. Leaning on crutches, I made my way downstairs, only to run into Liam, who was picking up medicine for Kathy. I gave him a cool glance and tried to walk past, but he blocked my path. “Iris, you…” Hearing my real name, the name he used to whisper with such affection, almost brought tears to my eyes. I cut him off. “I’m not giving back the ten thousand dollars.” The subject was a raw nerve. His hand shot out, clamping around my wrist like a vise. “Iris, do you even have a heart?” Five years ago, my family went bankrupt. To pay off the debts, I agreed to a cruel game. A group of rich kids despised Liam for his quiet pride and wanted to see him brought low. Ten thousand dollars was nothing to them, but to Liam, it was his family’s income for an entire year. He worked every spare hour at part-time jobs, just to buy me a bracelet I’d pointed at. I told him a family member was sick, and without a second thought, he transferred his entire tuition for the next semester to me. But the day before the bet was over, he found out. He discovered that my affection was all part of a wager. He confronted me, broken, and I didn’t know how to answer. I just told him I would explain everything the next day. But the next day, he never came. All I received was the jar of paper stars he’d made for me. And I had been planning to tell him that day that my feelings had become real. That I had truly fallen in love with him. “Don’t touch me!” I yanked my arm away. I wanted nothing to do with him now. At the payment window, the cashier informed me I had insufficient funds. My humiliation was on full display. I clutched my phone, numbly scrolling through my contacts, realizing there was no one I could call. Liam watched me, a cruel, mocking smile playing on his lips. “Beg me, Iris. Just say you were wrong, and I’ll give you the money.” 3 My nails dug into my palms. Just as I was about to speak, his phone rang. Kathy’s voice, saccharine and sharp, came through the speaker. “That Kate Miller woman won’t admit to anything. She says she’s not afraid of us suing her.” She paused, then her voice took on a tearful quaver. “She… she even sent me threatening messages. She called me a bitch.” A bitter laugh escaped my lips. When would I have possibly had time to threaten her? But Liam didn’t even bother to verify her claims. He just sentenced me on the spot. I felt like I was looking at a complete stranger. I pulled out the bank card—the one with the ten thousand dollars—and paid the bill. I had kept it all these years, intending to give it back to him one day. It seemed I had been sentimental for nothing. My leg was injured, and I walked slowly. Liam caught up to me easily. I forced a smile, speaking before he could. “Liam, you’re so pathetic, aren’t you? One little wave from me and you’d come crawling back. Did you really think a girl like me would ever be short on cash?” His expression faltered, a flash of anger in his eyes. He thrust a folder at me, scattering papers across the floor. “Don’t flatter yourself, Miss Miller. You forgot your medical report.” The papers lay scattered around my feet. I silently knelt, picking them up one by one. After leaving the hospital, I went back to my small rented apartment. I’d been fired from the resort and was now facing a lawsuit. My budget was so tight I couldn’t even afford a lawyer. To make money, I found a job as a bartender at a high-end cocktail lounge. And in a private room, I saw him again. Liam. He was sitting with the same group of rich kids from all those years ago, laughing and talking as if they were old friends. I kept my head down, trying to blend into the shadows. But then they started reminiscing about our university days. I lost focus for a second, and a drink sloshed onto one of them—Zack. “Watch what you’re doing! Didn’t you see you spilled that on me?” I didn’t speak, just grabbed a napkin and tried to wipe the stain. “Do you know how much this suit costs? Can you even afford to replace it if you ruin it?” He knocked my hand away and tilted my chin up, his eyes widening in recognition. “Iris?” At the sound of my name, every head in the room turned to me. “Well, well, the great Iris Miller. How did you end up working at my family’s bar?” “What, wasn’t the ten grand you scammed off Liam enough?” With a few words, they absolved themselves of any part in the original cruelty. Liam glanced at me, his expression unreadable, then coolly looked away. His silence was permission. It was an endorsement of their mockery. “You didn’t track us down on purpose, did you? Hoping for a handout?” “Hey, we’re old classmates. Here’s ten bucks for your trouble.” “I was always closer to Iris. I’ll give her fifty.” Laughter filled the room as bills were tossed haphazardly onto the table. I finished mixing the last drink and slowly stood up. “Your drinks are ready. If there’s nothing else, I’ll be leaving.” 4 “Who said you could leave?” Liam’s voice cut through the air. He swirled the drink in his hand. “Bring me one of every cocktail on your menu.” I stopped. The eighteen-year-old Iris would have walked out. But I needed the money. I forced a standard, professional smile. “Of course. I hope you’ll be paying your tab, Mr. Burwell.” I mixed and served drink after drink, until my arms ached with exhaustion. At his signal, the others silently drank them down. My phone, sitting on the bar, lit up. I reached for it, but I was too slow. A drunk Zack snatched it, reading the message aloud. “Miss Miller, I’m sorry, but we don’t have any lawyers who can take your case with this budget.” “Iris, darling, can’t even afford a lawyer?” My hand tightened around a glass. I looked up and met Liam’s surprised gaze. Suddenly, I felt a wave of profound, suffocating shame. “Give it back!” “Don’t you guys know? The Millers went bankrupt because her father was having an affair…” They piled on, their vicious, baseless speculation directed at my parents. I couldn’t take it anymore. I grabbed a bottle and smashed it over the speaker’s head. “Shut your mouth!” Liquid dripped from my fingers. My right hand was shaking uncontrollably with fear. The man, his reason gone, lunged at me, his hands closing around my throat. The taste of blood filled my mouth. Suddenly, he was gone. Liam had kicked him square in the chest. He glared down at the man, his voice lethally calm. “What do you think you’re doing?” Sensing his rage, the others scrambled out of the room like rats fleeing a ship. I gasped for air, steadying myself on the table as I stood up amidst the wreckage. “Mr. Burwell, your friend started it. I won’t be paying for a single thing.” Liam let out a short, incredulous laugh. “Is that all you have to say to me? Iris, are you really that desperate for money?” I turned my back to him, wiping away a tear before it could fall. I cleared my throat. “It has nothing to do with you.” It wasn’t until I left the room that I realized my hand was covered in cuts from the shattered glass. I remembered a time when the smallest scratch would have sent Liam into a panic, rushing me to the clinic. I would laugh at him for overreacting, but he would just look down, his expression serious. “Iris,” he had said once, “you’re all I have.” His quietness wasn’t aloofness; it was a deep-seated insecurity. He had spent the first twenty years of his life being abandoned. I was the first person to choose him, to stay. He had wanted to lay the entire world at my feet. So when he found out it was all a lie, his hatred was as fierce as his love had been. Now he was surrounded by love and adoration. I should be happy for him, shouldn’t I? So why couldn’t I smile? I didn’t go to the hospital. I just wrapped the cuts myself. The next day, there was a knock on my door. A man in a sharp suit handed me a business card. He was a lawyer. “I don’t need one, thank you.” 5 I tried to close the door, but he blocked it with his foot. After some pressing, he admitted that Liam had sent him. I pushed him out and said calmly, “Tell him I don’t need his help.” But he refused to leave. Just then, I got a call. The retainer I had paid to another lawyer was being refunded. They didn’t dare offend Mr. Burwell. No lawyer in the city would take Kate Miller’s case. The man outside my door spoke again, his timing perfect. “Miss Miller, rest assured, I will not report any details of our conversations to Mr. Burwell.” With nothing left to lose, I agreed.

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It was the company’s monthly holiday, and my boyfriend Aaron’s personal secretary posted a picture on her social media feed. The caption read: “Sure, you’re on top during the day at the office, but at night, I’m the one in charge!” The photo showed her, a woman named Chelsea, lounging on a waterbed strewn with rose petals. And kneeling at her feet, massaging them with an almost reverent expression, was Aaron. The ever-serious, no-nonsense director of our department. Tucked into his pocket was a brand-new, gleaming gold necklace. That very morning, I had given him the gold to make that necklace, begging him to finally go public with our five-year relationship. He’d taken it without a word, but when I tried to snap a picture of us together, he’d snatched my phone and smashed it on the ground. His eyes had been filled with pure contempt. “Don’t you own a mirror? Don’t you have a puddle to look in? You’re just a low-class, trashy piece of work, aren’t you? You’d do anything to ruin me.” Suddenly, the last five years—my quiet obedience to his strict “no office romance” rule—felt like a pathetic joke. The next day, I sent a text to my father. “I give up. I’m coming home to take over the family business.” … After confirming that the gold necklace was indeed the one I had paid for, I sent a message to the company-wide group chat. “Wishing Director Evans and Chelsea a long and happy life together.” A few minutes later, Chelsea replied, claiming it was just a game of ‘Truth or Dare,’ a command from her “master.” Then Aaron, who had been MIA all day, finally appeared. Are you insane? What the hell are you posting in the group chat? You’re both women, why do you have to be so damn jealous? Are you that desperate for a man? Before I could even type a response, he sent another message, a string of laughing emojis. What are you good for besides causing me trouble? Why don’t you just crawl back into your mother’s womb and stay there? His vulgar words still hit me like a punch to the gut, even though I should have been used to it by now. Disgusting. Utterly disgusting. The memory of me, just that morning, begging him to marry me, made my whole body tremble. “Forget it, Aaron,” Chelsea chimed in. “It’s my fault. I’ll go explain to Sophia right now!” “Don’t you dare!” Aaron’s voice boomed from my phone; he must have called her. Underneath the rage, I could hear a raw, unmistakable panic. “There are no cabs out there this late! Sophia, there’s a limit to your games! Do you really think I can’t crush you?” I hadn’t said a single word, but I could hear choked sobs from the other end of the line, followed by the rustling of clothes. “I’ll swim back if I have to, Aaron! Don’t stop me! I won’t let anyone spread rumors about you!” “Who gives a damn about that bitch? I’m firing her right now!” he roared. “Chelsea, you just stay here and relax. As long as I’m the director, no one is going to mess with you.” With that, he hung up. Even though I sent the word “Goodbye” less than five seconds later, he didn’t reply. Of course he didn’t. He had my notifications on silent unless it was something important. Two hours later, I had packed all my things. Every item in this apartment, from the kettle on the stove to the custom-designed feature wall in the living room, I had chosen myself. I had even bought the damn place, planning to surprise him by signing it over to him. Thank God I never told him. My phone buzzed. It was a message from Chelsea. Sophia, don’t worry, there’s nothing going on between me and Aaron. I’ve always seen him as a brother, a father figure. I would never have any improper thoughts about him. As if to prove her point, she sent two videos. One showed Aaron scrubbing her back in the bathtub. The other showed him tucking her into bed, singing a lullaby. In the past, I would have never dared to respond to such a blatant provocation. No matter what happened, I was always the one who ended up apologizing, begging for his forgiveness. Five years had worn away the passionate, hysterical girl who would fight for love. But now, I realized that my quiet endurance had been just another form of weakness. Are you itchy? I typed back. Are you sending me these because you want me to curse you out, so you can put your phone on vibrate and stick it up your ass? The “typing” bubble appeared and disappeared for a long time. See? You’re so emotional, she finally sent. I blocked her number. I didn’t sleep a wink. I just sat there, in the dark, until the first light of dawn. Then I texted my father. “I give up. I’m coming home to take over the family business.” My dad, the old man, responded with a string of flower emojis. Are you sure? You’re not messing with me? “I’m not messing with you.” A bitter smile touched my lips. Ha! I just won a five-million-dollar bet with your Uncle David! I knew it! My throat tightened. “You should have come home ages ago! You can have any man you want. Why waste your time on that one loser?” he continued. “I’ll buy that little company you work for first thing in the morning. A little toy for you to play with. How dare they bully my daughter? They must be blind!” “It’s fine, Dad.” “I want to do this myself. One day, I’ll be the one to acquire them.” The old man paused, then sighed. “You’re just like your mother.” “No matter what happens, Dad will always be here for you.” I hung up, took a deep breath, and prepared to leave. But as I opened the door, I ran right into Chelsea and Aaron. “There. Are you happy now?” Aaron strode into the apartment, his leather shoe coming down hard on my foot, grinding his heel into my instep. The pain was excruciating. I bit my lip to keep from screaming, my head ringing. I first met him during a hurricane. He’d lost his footing and was nearly blown away. The rain was so heavy that day, the water was up to our ankles. I’d grabbed him, and in the process, a piece of glass had pierced my foot, leaving a permanent scar. Aaron’s eyes widened for a second, a flash of guilt in their depths. But then he glanced over his shoulder at Chelsea, and the guilt vanished, replaced by a cold hardness. “Apologize to Chelsea.” “If it weren’t for you, she wouldn’t have been in such a hurry to get back here, and she wouldn’t have gotten into that car accident.” I looked past him at Chelsea, who was standing there perfectly straight, without a single scratch on her. “Don’t you know that car almost ran over her big toe? We’re lucky she’s okay, or our lives would have been over!” Aaron’s voice was sharp, accusatory. He looked at me as if I were a murderer. “Sophia, you’d better say what I want to hear. Or else… a little country girl like you… it would be nothing for me to blacklist you from this entire industry.” “An ant needs to know its place. You can’t fight a giant. You’ve heard that before, right?” Chelsea wrapped her arms around Aaron’s waist from behind and shook her head. “Aaron, sweetie, it’s not her fault. She’s never had a proper education. A well-educated person like me shouldn’t stoop to her level. Let’s just drop it.” “What am I?” I clenched my fists, fighting the urge to slap them both. For five years, Chelsea had been like a fly buzzing around a pile of shit, constantly circling me, never letting up. “Chelsea,” I said, my voice dangerously low. “I’ve been wanting to do this for a very long time.” SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! Aaron’s face turned a deathly pale, his hands trembling with rage. “I told you to apologize!” My face was on fire, the taste of blood in my mouth. Chelsea let out a sharp, mocking laugh. Shame, rage, and a crushing helplessness flooded my veins. “Sophia, is it that hard to apologize? You’re the one who’s in the wrong!” Aaron grabbed a shoehorn from the entryway table and brought it down hard on my knee. “Chelsea is being generous by not making you kneel! And you’re still pushing it? Who the hell do you think you are?” I remembered just a few days ago, crying, begging him for forgiveness. But now, I was just tired. I just wanted to leave. Arguing with him felt beneath me. “Sophia, if you walk out that door, we’re done!” Seeing that I wasn’t backing down, a flicker of panic, almost imperceptible, crossed Aaron’s face. “Fine.” I nodded, feeling nothing, and limped out the door. Five years. Five goddamn years, all fed to a dog. Suddenly, a powerful force slammed into me from behind. I flew forward, instinctively throwing out my right hand to break my fall. A searing pain shot through my arm. I yanked it back, and a large flap of skin tore away, exposing the white muscle beneath. When I opened my eyes, I was at the bottom of the stairs, my head throbbing from where it had hit the stone steps. And Aaron, my boyfriend, was standing at the top, protectively shielding Chelsea. No concern. No worry. Just a look of cold satisfaction on his face as he pulled Chelsea back into the apartment. “Serves you right!” “You can kneel there and think about what you did. And don’t you dare get up until you understand what you did wrong!” The pain was overwhelming. I couldn’t move. I could only lie there, crumpled on the ground like a stray dog. By the time a kind neighbor found me and got me to the hospital, it was too late to avoid major surgery. My right hand. The most important tool for a designer. And I had to watch, helpless, as they drilled one steel pin after another into the shattered bones. My heart felt like it had turned to ash. Three days later, Aaron posted on his social media. It was a picture of him and Chelsea, locked in a passionate embrace. He was wearing the suit I had designed for him. The matching woman’s suit, tailored to my exact measurements, hung loosely on Chelsea’s frame, making her look like a sad, clumsy clown. Less than two minutes after he posted it, my phone rang. “Have you calmed down?” “It’s Chelsea’s birthday today. She wants to bury the hatchet. Don’t forget to get her a nice gift.” Aaron’s voice was casual, as if nothing had happened. Only the constant, throbbing pain in my hand was there to remind me. “Okay.” A nice gift… For five years, I hadn’t taken a single penny from my family. The hundred thousand dollars I had saved up, I had spent on gold to make Aaron happy. Now, after one surgery, my bank account had a balance of twenty-five cents. Chelsea wanted a nice gift? Ha. I wondered if bankrupting her would count. I made my arrangements. Right on time, I arrived at the party. Aaron stood at the door, his arm around Chelsea’s waist, looking for all the world like a newlywed couple. When they saw me, they intertwined their fingers. “Sophia, you came empty-handed?!” Aaron’s face darkened. “I should have known you had no class. Look at what you’re wearing. Rags. And all those bandages… you’re disgusting.” “You’re just here to ruin my night, aren’t you?” Chelsea couldn’t hide the glee in her eyes. She shook her head, forcing a placid expression. “It’s fine, Aaron. It’s enough that she came.” “Besides,” she added, a sly smile playing on her lips. “As long as you’re here, that’s the only gift I need.” “Although… I do have a surprise for you…” As she said the word “surprise,” she touched her stomach. Just that one gesture, and my breath caught in my throat. I clutched my phone tighter. In all our years together, Aaron had never crossed that line. Even in our most passionate moments, when I was wrapped around him, he would always pull away and take a cold shower. He said his first time was important, that he would never give it to a “gold-digger” like me. The other people at the party, all our colleagues, started to hoot and cheer. That’s when I noticed them. Aaron’s parents. And his younger brother. “Aaron,” Chelsea said, her voice soft and full of emotion. “Even though it’s my birthday, none of it would mean anything if you weren’t here.” “I know you don’t believe in marriage, but I worry about you being alone when you’re old. So… I selfishly decided to keep a part of you for myself.” She looked up at him, her eyes shining with sincerity. “The baby is two months along. It’s a girl. She’s beautiful, and she looks just like you.” Two months… My world tilted on its axis. My head felt like it was about to explode. My mother died when I was young. I was raised by my aunt. Two months ago, my aunt passed away. And Aaron had been by my side, seemingly inseparable. He was with me during the day, and with Chelsea at night. And I, like a fool, thought I had finally won his heart. It was just guilt. A pathetic attempt to atone for his sins. Aaron’s parents started clapping, leading the cheers. I could hear people whispering. Aaron was known for his ruthless, zero-tolerance policy on office romances. The last person who tried to hide a relationship was sued into bankruptcy and ended up in jail. But he just patted Chelsea’s back reassuringly and said, his voice calm and steady, “In that case, I’ll have to fire Sophia.” “After all, she’s the one who seduced me in the first place, shamelessly clinging to me and calling herself my girlfriend.” “A woman like that is a disgrace to this company.” Instantly, all eyes were on me. I could feel the weight of their judgmental stares, the invisible green hat of the cuckold settling firmly on my head. “Are you finished?” To everyone’s surprise, I just smiled. “Then it’s my turn to present my gift.” I clapped my hands twice, and suddenly, the room was filled with police officers. The one in charge stepped forward and addressed me with a respectful bow. “Ms. Sonny.” Aaron doubled over with laughter. “Sophia, are you on something? Where did you find all these actors? On your salary, you must have bankrupted yourself to hire this many.” “‘Ms. Sonny’?” he spat. “Give me a break!” His saliva hit my face. The older police officer, a man in his fifties, turned pale and rushed to get me a tissue. “Sophia, why do you always have to pretend to be something you’re not?” Chelsea sneered, stepping to the side. “Can’t we women be a little more gracious? I would give up my entire life for Aaron. And you? You’re just a bitch in heat.” Aaron’s younger brother, seeing the chaos, started running around, kicking over decorations and making a mess of the party. His parents, who had him late in life, doted on him, spoiling him rotten. Out of love for Aaron, I had always tolerated the little monster. I let him ride on my back like a horse, circling the living room ten times, all in the hopes of earning a sliver of Aaron’s affection. “Nathan! Get down from there!” Aaron’s lips thinned, a storm brewing in his eyes. He strode forward and raised his hand to slap his brother. So he could get angry! He did know his brother was a little demon. He did know how to protect others. He just never, ever stood on my side. But before the slap could land, his father grabbed his arm, and his mother kicked him hard in the shin. “That’s enough! What are you doing?” “You… what’s-her-name,” his father barked at me. “Come over here and apologize! Such a disrespectful thing.” “You’re just a gold-digger from the countryside, trying to climb the social ladder on our family’s coattails. You should be grateful we even let you in the door!” Five years. For five whole years, they couldn’t even be bothered to remember my name. “Wait, I don’t think this is an act,” someone whispered from the crowd. “That old guy in the front, he’s on the news all the time. I recognize him.” “It can’t be… I thought Sophia was from the country.” “Who knows? Maybe she’s some secret billionaire. Let’s just watch the show.” The room fell silent.

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1 I’m a forgotten shrine god, chained to decaying wood and stone. Forced to grant wishes for offerings, my power shackled by mortal desires. For ten days, Rhys came. Ten days of identical prayers for wealth and power through sacred incense. Needing one final wish cycle to ascend, I manifested before him with his ten incense sticks. “Ten wishes,” I whispered like wind through dead leaves, “but if my shrine falls, I vanish.” He snapped the first stick instantly: “Make me a Lord.” I wove fate from my essence, hollowing myself to fulfill it. The second wish surprised me—”Stay with me.” His tenderness persisted even as his power grew. When he wished for eternal love with the third stick, I yielded. Then war brought spoils—including Princess Elena. The fourth stick snapped: “Make her my wife.” “I clawed my way to this height for one reason,” he declared, his voice hard as iron, “to one day have the power to take her back. And now, that day has finally come.” Martha, the kind old housekeeper who cared for me, was aghast. “But what about Lady Lyra?” she pleaded. “She has been with you for five years, my lord. She has been loyal and devoted, asking for nothing, not even a title.” Her worried eyes met mine. Rhys’s face twisted in fury. He had Martha dragged away and beaten for her impertinence. “How dare a servant lecture me! Everything I have done, I have done for Elena! As for that other one… she can crawl back to whatever gutter she came from!” His voice was colder than a winter midnight. The maids fell silent, their hands stilling in their work. I suppose it was true. Before Princess Elena had been brought here as a hostage, he had treasured me. I was his precious secret, a woman to be cherished, one who could not be scolded or wronged. Every day he would beg me to say I loved him. But now that his childhood love was within his grasp, that devotion had vanished like smoke. Martha was old; she couldn’t endure such a brutal punishment. I stepped in front of her, shielding her from the guards. “I’ll do it,” I said to Rhys. “I will get you your princess.” His face lit up with an almost manic joy. He told me to be quick, then turned and strode away, already planning the wedding, eagerly awaiting the arrival of his true love. Days later, I intercepted the Crown Prince’s carriage. His royal guards had blades at my throat in an instant. Accusing me of attempted assassination, they tortured me, driving splinters between my fingers. The agony was a white-hot fire, so intense it stole the breath from my lungs and drained the color from my face. “I can save him!” I gasped. “I can save the Prince!” I knew Prince Kaelan was dying, that the King was frantic, seeking a cure from every corner of the realm. I poured a century of my divine power into him, pulling him back from the brink of death. The King was overjoyed. He summoned me to the throne room at once. “You have saved my son and heir,” he boomed. “Name your reward.” My eyes found Princess Elena, kneeling in a corner of the great hall. My voice was steady. “I ask that you sanction a marriage between Lord Rhys and Princess Elena.” The King agreed without a moment’s hesitation. A trivial hostage in exchange for his son’s life? It was a bargain. Rhys’s wedding was a grand affair. His entire estate was alive with celebration and music. Only my own small wing of the house remained dark and silent. I lay on my bed, wracked with violent coughs, a handkerchief stained crimson clutched in my hand. Saving the Prince had come at a terrible cost. He was meant to die; by twisting his fate, I had invited a backlash upon myself, siphoning away my own life force. A short while later, Martha scurried in to announce that Lord Rhys had arrived. The door flew open. He stood there, his arm wrapped possessively around Elena, his face a mask of cold disgust. Elena spoke first, her voice dripping with false sympathy. “I hear you’ve been pretending to be ill to win Rhys’s pity. I know it’s my fault… I know I’m the wicked one who stole your place.” Her eyes shimmered with tears that never fell. “If you truly cannot bear to have me here, then I will give it all back to you!” “You being here only makes Elena upset,” Rhys said, his voice flat. “It’s time for you to leave. Go back where you belong.” “You were only ever a substitute for her,” he continued, each word a hammer blow. “The fact that you resemble her in some small way was your greatest honor. But the real thing is here now. You need to be gone.” He started to turn away with her, but I found my voice, a sound as thin as a spider’s thread. “If I leave… does that count as my fifth wish?” He stopped dead. He reached into his coat and pulled out the fifth stick of incense. “Yes,” he said. “I wish for you to disappear from my life forever.” He had started carrying the sticks with him, just in case a wish struck him. He then pulled out a sixth and snapped it as well, the sneer in his voice undisguised. “I’m done playing your childish little games. I don’t believe for a second that you have any real power.” His face was cruel. “I only pretended to believe, I only coddled you, because you were a stand-in for Elena. Now that she’s back, you’re obsolete.” I grabbed his sleeve, trying desperately to make him understand. “I am the spirit of the ruined shrine. I am real…” “Enough!” he roared, shaking me off. “How long are you going to keep up this charade? You invented this whole fairy tale just to stay by my side, didn’t you?” No one believed me. No one ever believed in the god of a forgotten place. There was a time when my shrine flourished, when offerings were plentiful. I granted every wish they brought me. 2 When they wished for beauty, I became uglier. When they wished for wealth, my own divine light dimmed. Gradually, I could no longer grant their insatiable desires, and they stopped coming. My shrine fell to ruin, and I faded with it. But now, I was just one mortal’s prayer cycle away from my ascension. I waited a hundred years for someone to come, and then he appeared: Rhys, with his ten sticks of incense and his desperate wish. And so, I became indebted to him for ten wishes. Only by fulfilling them could I be free. I found him that first day, half-dead from poverty and despair on the side of a road. I offered him the ten sticks. “I must collect the wishes of mortals,” I had explained. “For every stick you break, I will grant you one wish.” Even then, on the verge of death, he had snapped the first. “I want to be rich. I want to be a Lord, so that no one can ever look down on me again.” To fulfill his ten wishes, I had to stay by his side. Then, on his birthday, he had looked into my eyes and, with a sincerity that felt real, snapped two sticks at once. “I wish for you to stay with me forever. I wish for us to grow old together.” A god knows nothing of love, nothing of desire. I only knew that this brought me two wishes closer to my goal. So I agreed. For years, we lived as husband and wife in all but name. He never officially married me, but the whole world thought he would. “Lord Rhys is just waiting until his position is secure,” they would whisper. “Then he will make an honorable woman of his love.” I believed them. But it was all a lie. Then, he had snapped two sticks to declare his love for me. Now, he snapped two more to cast me aside for another. I let my hand fall from his sleeve. “You have four sticks of incense left,” I said, my voice hollow. “When you have used them all, I will leave you forever.” He scoffed, pulling Elena closer and shoving me aside as they left. “Just get out of here for now. Elena doesn’t want to see you. As for your damned sticks, we’ll deal with them some other time.” He looked at Elena with an expression of utter devotion. As they passed, Elena paused and sighed dramatically. “Rhys, my love, she must adore you so. To endure such humiliation and still refuse to leave… perhaps you should give her some small title, out of pity.” Rhys was instantly defensive. “I’ll have her thrown out this instant! I swear on my life, Elena, you are the only one I will ever call my wife.” And so I was thrown out into the snow, with nothing but the clothes on my back. Martha was cast out with me, a dismissal contract clutched in her trembling hands. I had ruined her life as well. She used what little savings she had to get us a room at an inn. “My dear girl,” she said, her voice heavy with sorrow, “you have a pure heart. Lord Rhys does not love you. Why do you cling to him?” She looked at me sadly. “It’s time you opened your eyes and saw who else is out there.” She opened the window, and there, standing like a silent sentinel in the falling snow below, was Prince Kaelan. Martha’s heart ached for me; she wanted me to let go of Rhys and find a new life. But I was stubborn, my eyes fixed on the singular, burning desire for my ascension. “I still owe him four wishes,” I insisted. If I failed, I would be trapped in this mortal world forever. My breathing was becoming shallow, my body wracked with a profound exhaustion. Granting Rhys his lordship had already shortened my lifespan. Healing the Prince had aged my mortal form to that of an eighty-year-old woman. A dull, constant pain was my new companion, and I tossed and turned in the cheap bed. Martha, thinking I was lovesick for Rhys, could only sigh. She spoke of returning to her home village, of retiring. I took her hand and used a flicker of my remaining power, transforming my touch into a handful of silver coins that I pressed into her palm. This was my mess to clean up. After she left, I finally allowed myself to cough up the blood I’d been holding back. Using my power in such a weakened state was destroying me from the inside out. In the days that followed, my face grew haggard and my hair began to fall out. Every day, I would drag myself to Rhys’s estate, and every day, I would be turned away. My body grew weaker, and the slightest chill would confine me to bed for days. But I gritted my teeth, waiting. Waiting for him to break the next stick. Finally, I saw his carriage returning, with him and Elena inside. I threw myself in its path, but it didn’t slow. Not for an instant. The impact sent me flying. I landed in a heap, blood spilling from my lips. Rhys started to get out, but someone was faster. Prince Kaelan was there, sweeping me into his arms, calling for his attendants to stanch the bleeding. Rhys stood over us, his face a cold mask. “It’s just another one of her pathetic tricks for attention, Your Highness. Don’t fall for it. She’s a master of manipulation.” But Kaelan ignored him, his eyes fixed only on me. He tried to lift me, to take me away, but I struggled weakly. Four more sticks. I can’t leave yet. Rhys sneered. “You see? She loves me so much she’d rather die at my feet than leave with you.” Kaelan gave me one last, deep look, then turned and walked away into the snow. Pain lanced through my body. I tried to speak, but my throat was clogged with blood. With a blood-soaked hand, I grabbed the hem of Rhys’s fine leather boot. “Four… sticks left…” I rasped. “Just make your wishes and I’ll…” The world went black before I could finish.

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My wife, who’d been dead for seven years, was back. Not only that, she’d brought a man with her. And she expected me to just step aside and hand over my title as her husband. “Seth nearly lost his sight saving me. I’ve already promised to marry him,” she said, her voice dripping with an unearned authority. “If you sign the divorce papers quietly, I’ll let you continue living here.” I was silent for a moment, then answered coolly, “Actually, I’m already married to someone else.” She rolled her eyes. “Don’t be difficult, Patrick. Everyone knows you’re still head over heels in love with me.” 1 But I wasn’t the same Patrick Rhodes from seven years ago—the pathetic fool who would have done anything for her, the man who had groveled at her feet until he had no dignity left. “I have no reason to lie. I’m married.” Echo shot me a look of pure contempt, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “Stop the act, Patrick. I’m not here to ask for your permission. I’m informing you. Whether you like it or not, I’m marrying Seth.” Seth stepped forward, lacing his fingers with hers. His voice was a soft, cloying melody of faux innocence. “Echo, darling, please don’t fight with Patrick. It’s just my bad luck. Maybe you should just send me back.” He made a show of turning to leave, but his hand clutched the hem of her dress, and the look he shot me was a triumphant glare. It was a pathetic, transparent performance. Echo’s expression softened instantly. “Seth, don’t say that. You promised we’d be together forever.” She turned back to me, her confidence bafflingly absolute. “Don’t worry. Patrick is crazy about me. He’ll do anything I say. We’ll get married, I promise.” Seven years, and her delusional self-assurance had only gotten worse. Before I could speak, she fixed me with a threatening stare. “You’ve enjoyed seven years as the Sterling family’s golden boy. It’s time to let Seth have his turn. He’s suffered enough. I won’t let you bully him.” A sarcastic smile touched my lips. “I haven’t done a thing. Don’t try to pin this on me.” Echo’s eyes narrowed. She looked me up and down as if I were something she’d found on the bottom of her shoe. “Do you actually think you’re important? If it weren’t for the fact that you waited seven years for me, I would have thrown you out of this house the second I walked in. I wouldn’t be wasting my breath.” Throw me out? She wouldn’t get the chance. And what on earth made her think I’d waited seven years for her? The day she abandoned me was the day I gave up on her completely. Seven years ago, I was in a limousine, dressed in my wedding tuxedo, traveling over winding mountain roads to pick up my bride. And she ran. She left me at the altar. The official story was a tragedy. A landslide on the road. While I was out of the car checking the damage, Echo had supposedly slipped and fallen from a cliff. For seven years, everyone believed she was dead. I even picked out her gravesite myself. Marrying into the Sterling family was a future my father had fought tooth and nail to secure for me. Echo could throw away the Rhodes family’s reputation, but I couldn’t. And besides, she wasn’t the only woman in her family. For the past seven years, I’ve been a husband and a father. If she hadn’t suddenly reappeared, I would have completely forgotten she ever existed. So, seeing her again after all this time stirred nothing in me. “Echo, let me repeat myself one more time,” I said, my voice flat. “You and I are not husband and wife. Legally, you’re a deceased person. Who you marry is none of my business.” Echo let out a dismissive scoff. “At least you know your place. If you hadn’t been so obsessed with marrying me back then, I never would have had to run off to another country and hide for seven years.” So, that was it. I’d always wondered how she was the only one who died when so many people were there. It wasn’t a tragic accident; it was a disappearing act. She hadn’t changed at all—still willing to do anything to get her way, no matter who she hurt. When the news of her “death” had reached her mother, the woman had collapsed on the spot. She’d fallen into a deep sickness, nearly following her daughter to the grave. The butler, who had just rushed in, overheard Echo’s callous words. “Miss Echo, you mustn’t say such things,” he stammered. “Mr. Rhodes is now the VP of Sterling Corp.” “VP?” Seth, standing beside her, asked with a flicker of darkness in his eyes. “Echo, didn’t you say your grandfather would only ever make you CEO?” Echo’s face stiffened. She stared at me, confused. “My father only has one daughter. Who else is qualified to inherit the company besides me?” I just watched her, my expression unreadable. Had she left her brain overseas? Did she have any idea how foolish she sounded? The butler was sweating, wiping his brow frantically. “Miss Echo, what are you saying? Mr. Rhodes is married to Miss Julia. She is the CEO of Sterling Corp now. Your aunt, don’t you remember?” The day Echo left me stranded, I stood on that highway, lost, the eyes of a hundred gossiping onlookers burning into me. That’s when Julia had stepped forward. She said she would marry me. In that moment, I was adrift, powerless. Everyone in New York knew it was my wedding day, and my bride had died on the way to the ceremony. Cursed. Jinx. A black mark. Those words were nails pinning me to a pillar of public shame. And then, suddenly, someone was offering me a way out. A hand to pull me from the wreckage. She would save the Rhodes family from humiliation. Why wouldn’t I have married her? Julia hadn’t even planned on attending her niece’s wedding. She’d only returned to the country at the behest of the old man, her father. And in a bizarre twist of fate, she became my wife instead. Echo stared at me, her face a mask of ridicule. “Everyone knows my aunt Julia is a titan of industry. All she cares about is her career. She wouldn’t give a pathetic lapdog like Patrick a second glance.” Julia Sterling was a legend in New York’s business world. Half of the Sterling empire was built on her personal ventures. Within the family, she was treated like a queen. To this day, I still don’t fully understand why she married me. There were so many men richer and more handsome than me. The butler kept trying. “Miss Echo, it’s true. You can look up the news online. Or ask anyone in the family.” Echo just curled her lip in disdain. She randomly pointed to a gardener, then a maid. They both gave her the same answer. Her composure finally cracked. Her face went rigid as she glared at me. “Well, well, Patrick. You work fast, don’t you? I’m gone for a few years, and you’ve already got the entire staff wrapped around your finger, all of them in on your little conspiracy to lie to me.” I remained calm, refusing to get drawn into her madness. My marriage to Julia was a hard fact. Whether Echo believed it or not meant nothing to me. She’d been spoiled her whole life. The butler, fearing another outburst, quickly sent someone to call Julia. “Get Miss Julia’s assistant on the phone! Tell her to come home immediately!” Julia was in the middle of negotiating an aerospace deal and had left for the office early. The old man, Mr. Sterling, and Echo’s mother weren’t home either. Otherwise, Echo wouldn’t have dared to cause such a scene. As the standoff thickened the air, my daughter Ava suddenly burst into the room. “Daddy, why didn’t you come back to play with me?” The moment Echo saw Ava, her face twisted in rage. It was obvious why. Ava was a miniature, female version of me. Echo’s gaze darted between me and the child, her body trembling. Finally, she raised a shaking hand and pointed it at me. “How dare you betray me. You even have a bastard child.” Her voice was a venomous hiss. “Tell me, whose is it?” Ava, who inherited Julia’s sharp personality, might not have fully understood the word, but she knew it was an insult. She tapped her chin, looking like a tiny, serious adult. “Who are you calling a bastard? My mommy says people with dirty mouths are just trash.” Ava was six. She knew almost everyone in the household, but she’d never seen Echo before. Echo immediately snapped back, “How dare you talk back, you little brat.” That was it. I saw red. This was my precious daughter, the light of my life. How dare she call her that? “Echo,” I growled, my voice low and dangerous. “You watch your mouth. Or I promise, you’ll regret it.” Seth, ever the snake, glanced at me and added casually, “The child looks like she’s old enough for school, doesn’t she? Don’t tell me you cheated on Echo before you were even married?” The words were poison. Echo’s eyes went wide with fury, and she looked at me as if she wanted to claw my face off. There is nothing a woman hates more than being cheated on, especially when the man was once her devoted admirer—a man who had sworn to love her until the day he died. “She’s six,” I said calmly. “You son of a bitch, Patrick!” Echo shrieked. “I’m gone for seven years, and you have a child with someone else? Have you no shame?” Only seven years? We’d only known each other for a few years before she took off for seven of them. And she was the one who abandoned me. The butler rushed to explain. “Miss Echo, that’s Miss Julia’s child!” “Shut up!” she screamed at him. “You traitorous old fool! Where are my parents? Who let him get away with this? Cheating on me and acting so smug about it!” “The entire Sterling family knows, Miss Echo.” At the time, Echo’s parents had felt so guilty about her running away that they hadn’t objected to me marrying Julia. Hearing this, Echo finally exploded. Her eyes were like daggers, scanning the room. “Who is the slut? Who dared to humiliate the Sterling family like this? Does she have a death wish?” No matter how hard she looked, she couldn’t find a single plausible suspect among the staff. I let out a dry, humorless laugh. Seth, with a sickeningly sweet tone of concern, tried to counsel me. “Patrick, you should just confess. If you push Echo too far, even I won’t be able to help you.” I shot him a withering look. “We’re both men here. Cut the act.” Before I could react, Echo’s hand whipped through the air and cracked across my face. “You shut your mouth!” she screamed, her voice ragged. “You’re the one who cheated! You had a child behind my back, and you have the nerve to lecture Seth?” I hadn’t seen it coming. My cheek instantly flared with a hot, stinging pain. Seeing me get hit, Ava charged forward like a little bull. “You hit my daddy! I’ll get you!” “Ava!” Echo snatched Ava up by the collar of her dress, lifting her off the ground. My heart hammered against my ribs. “Echo, put her down!” The maids and other staff rushed forward. “Miss, please, put the child down!” one of them pleaded. “Miss Julia will not be merciful if anything happens to her.” Everyone in the Sterling household knew that Ava was the center of Julia’s universe, a treasure she protected fiercely. But Echo just sneered. “Get out of my way if you want to keep your jobs. Today, I’m going to teach them both a lesson.” My blood ran cold. “Echo, what are you doing?” Her face was a mask of venomous rage, her entire presence turning glacial. “According to the law, you committed adultery during our marriage and had a child. I can demand you leave with nothing and compensate me for my emotional distress.” The problem was, we were never married. My hands clenched into fists, veins bulging on the back. “Echo, we were never married! There was no adultery! Now put my daughter down!” If she weren’t a woman, I would have already tackled her. I, Patrick Rhodes, do not hit women. Ava’s little legs kicked in the air. She was dangling, struggling, but surprisingly, she wasn’t crying. She wasn’t afraid. The staff, intimidated by Echo’s threats, kept their distance, offering only weak, useless pleas. Echo ignored them completely. She shot me a dark, cryptic look. “After I’m done with this little bastard, I’ll deal with you personally.” With that, she started carrying Ava towards the door. The staff exchanged panicked glances, but no one dared to intervene. Finally, the old butler blocked her path. Echo’s face darkened. “What? You dare to stand in my way?” The butler, sweating profusely, bowed his head respectfully. “Miss, please, let’s talk this through. Don’t be rash. Please, put the little princess down.” Seizing the opportunity, I lunged for my daughter, but Seth intercepted me. He blocked my path with a sinister grin. “Patrick, what are you doing? Don’t do anything foolish now.” I swung. My fist connected with his face with a satisfying crack. “If anything happens to my daughter,” I snarled, “I will make you both regret the day you were born.” Seth stumbled backward, crashing into a nearby vase, which shattered on the floor. He hit his head, and blood began to trickle from a cut on his forehead. Seeing him hurt, Echo’s eyes turned red with fury. She channeled all her rage onto Ava. “You dare touch Seth? I’ll kill this little bastard!” She lifted Ava high, preparing to hurl her to the ground. For a split second, my heart stopped. I dove forward on pure instinct. “AVA!” Seeing her mother’s friend turn into a monster, Ava, finally just a small child, burst into terrified tears. “Get away from me!” Echo screamed at me. “I’ll deal with you later!” I wrapped my arms around my daughter, holding her tight, refusing to let go no matter how hard Echo pulled and clawed at me. Finally, Echo’s patience snapped. She grabbed a heavy ceramic flowerpot from a nearby stand and swung it at my head. A searing flash of pain. I felt something warm and wet trickling down my face. The butler and others rushed to pull her back, but she screamed them away. “Miss, stop! That’s your aunt’s husband!” the butler cried, grabbing her arm to stop another blow. Just then, a calm, cool voice sliced through the chaos from the doorway. “What, exactly, is going on in here?” “You’d all better have a very good explanation for this.”

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1 Four years into our marriage, my husband, Leo Williams, who never posts anything, broke his social media silence with a new story. 【What a greedy little kitten.】 The picture was of a girl wearing a pink cat-ear headband, her cheeks flushed red and tongue stuck out from the spice of the hot pot she was eating. It was Holly, the new streamer at his company. Less than a minute later, a comment from a mutual friend popped up: 【Bro, you forgot to switch accounts!】 And just like that, Leo’s new post vanished like a phantom. But it reappeared moments later on Holly’s own social media page. Then, his call came through. The old me would have already screenshotted it, called him first, and launched into a tirade. It would have ended in a screaming match, no question. But this time, I was thoughtful enough to let the call ring until it went to voicemail. … By the time Leo got home, I was nearly asleep on the sofa. He slipped off his jacket and bent down to change his shoes. “Why didn’t you answer my call?” Leo rarely prodded like this unless he knew, deep down, that he was in the wrong. “Fell asleep,” I mumbled without lifting my head. “Didn’t hear it.” “Had to work late unexpectedly. You don’t always have to wait up for me. You don’t have to make yourself so pathetic.” The old me would have shot back, insisting loudly that I did it because I loved him. But there was no point in arguing anymore. Leo handed me a square velvet box, gesturing for me to open it. Today was the day his company went public. To celebrate, I had done what I always did: left work early, bought groceries, cooked his favorite meal, and waited for him to come home. But I had waited half the night for a man who had promised he’d be home early, and he never came. I pretended not to notice the thick, greasy smell of hot pot clinging to his clothes as I took the box and set it aside on the coffee table. I’d seen this box before. The last time was when he’d missed my birthday. The logo, the floral pattern—it was identical. Leo stared at the box for a moment, his brow furrowing. His voice dropped. “Sienna, can you stop being so childish?” Buying me jewelry was Leo’s standard way of offering an olive branch. As long as I accepted the gift, the unpleasantness between us would be swept under the rug, never to be mentioned again. But this time, I had no intention of taking his olive branch. And that, naturally, made him angry. “Let me put it on for you.” Not giving me a chance to refuse, he opened the box and took out the bracelet inside. He reached for my wrist, but his hands froze when he saw the identical bracelet already clasped there. “Just leave it,” I said, pulling my hand back and rising from the sofa, ready for bed. “It’s late. We both have work tomorrow.” “I’ll have my assistant take you to pick out something new another day.” “No need,” I replied, my voice as cold as ice. 2 Perhaps out of guilt for the duplicate gift, Leo suggested we drive to the office together the next morning. My body ached, and I didn’t feel like driving, so I didn’t refuse. Leo stood in front of his car, his brow knitted so tightly the lines almost touched. At some point, he had started to despise me riding in his car, especially in the passenger seat. He’d even pushed me to buy my own car to avoid it. It was probably because I used to fight with him like a maniac over my right to that seat. He’d grown tired of it. But now, for Holly’s convenience, his car was a shrine to her. It was filled with cat-themed plush toys and decorated with cute, hand-drawn stickers. He’d even had the passenger seat professionally redesigned, just to make sure the petite Holly was perfectly comfortable. Seeing me waiting, however, he finally pulled the door open and started moving the mountain of plush toys to the back seat. Watching him go back and forth, I frowned. “You know what? I’ll just drive myself.” He tossed the last stuffed cat into the back. “No, let’s go together. Holly’s just… whimsical. She loves these little trinkets. Don’t mind them.” I stared at the pink, custom-fitted seat, a piece of a different world dropped jarringly into the car’s sleek interior. I refused. It was, I decided, deeply unsettling. I reached for my own car door, but Leo shot forward to block me, sliding into my driver’s seat instead. “I’ll drive. I said we’d go together.” I watched him for a long moment, not missing the flicker of discomfort in his eyes. So, he did know how inappropriate it was to transform his passenger seat for another woman. Leo looked like he wanted to explain, but I cut him off. “We’re going to be late. Just drive.” He pressed his lips into a thin line and started the car. While we were stopped at a red light, his phone rang. It was a custom ringtone, one I didn’t recognize. A pitiful, whiny voice came through the speaker, punctuated by faint sobs. “Leo… my tummy hurts so bad… I think it was something I ate yesterday. Can you please come take me to the hospital? Please, Leo? You’re the best.” After he hung up, Leo didn’t even glance at me. He didn’t say a word. He just yanked the steering wheel, pulled over to the curb, and quickly unbuckled my seatbelt for me. His tone was final, leaving no room for argument. “An employee isn’t feeling well. I have to go check on her. We’re almost at the office. You can walk the rest of the way.” I hadn’t even had time to close the door before he hit the gas and the car peeled away, leaving me standing in a cloud of exhaust. 3 Honestly, at this hour, almost no one walked to work. When the light turned green, the driver of an e-scooter, probably not expecting a pedestrian in the crosswalk, rounded the corner and slammed right into me. My hands, knees, and forehead were scraped up to varying degrees. The nurse cleaned my wounds, placed a large bandage on my forehead, and gave me instructions. “Try to keep it dry for the next few days. No baths. And apply this ointment on schedule.” I took a cab from the hospital to the office. The driver had two phones mounted on his dashboard. One was for navigation. The other was streaming Holly’s live broadcast. The comment section was flooded with messages of concern. “Aww, thank you all for caring so much! Your kitty is fine, I promise. It’s a good thing Leo got here so quickly! I don’t even need to go to the hospital anymore.” “Nooo, I haven’t confessed my feelings to him yet! Stop saying that, you guys! He’s sitting right here watching. Yes, he’s super, super sweet.” I looked down at my own phone. Two messages from Leo sat there, seething with anger and impatience. “My assistant said you missed the project planning meeting today. Where were you? Get to the office now.” “I ask you to walk a few blocks and you throw another one of your fits? What is wrong with you?” The hypocrisy was staggering. That evening, I had just finished applying ointment to my cuts and was curled up on the sofa watching TV. The sound of the front door’s keypad broke the silence, followed by Leo’s mocking voice. “And here I thought you’d finally learned your lesson. You’ve been so quiet these past few days. Turns out you were just waiting for this.” The TV must have been too loud for him, because he strode over and ripped the plug from the wall. “Sienna, do you have a brain in your head? We’ve been preparing for that project meeting for two weeks! Do you have any idea how much money the company loses when a project is delayed?” I looked up at his face, contorted with disgust. Then I saw him freeze. His gaze locked onto the bandage on my forehead, then traveled down to the raw scrapes on my hands and legs. He frowned. “What happened to you?” I broke his gaze, my voice casual. “It’s nothing. Just got hit by a vehicle on my way to work.” Leo’s eyes flickered, and a hint of guilt crossed his face. He stepped closer, trying to inspect my injuries. “Why didn’t you call me?” I flinched away from his touch, a humorless smirk on my face. “It’s just a scratch. Nothing important. I’m sure your employee was a higher priority.” Was there any point in calling him? He’d answer the phone and, without asking a single question, launch into a tirade of baseless accusations and complaints. Did he ever actually care what I had to say? He never came when I called before. Why would today be any different? My words stung him. He straightened up, a cold sneer on his face. “Sienna, do you have to be so sarcastic? It was wrong of me to leave you on the side of the road, I admit it. But are you a child? You can’t even walk down the street without getting hit by a car?” I stared at him, speechless. You see? Even a simple statement of fact was twisted into sarcasm, immaturity, a childish taunt. I had no intention of engaging with him. I got up and started for the bedroom. Noticing how much pain I was in as I walked, Leo’s expression softened slightly. He sighed and came over to help me. “I’ll sleep with you tonight. That way I can take care of you.” It had been a long time since Leo had come to bed before midnight. Holly had claimed that the constant harassment from viewers on her stream was making her anxious, that she was afraid of becoming depressed. She insisted he stay with her during her broadcasts. So every night, Leo would go to his study, half-working, half-watching her stream. He would frequently join her on camera for a “sweet interaction.” I had fought with him about it, cried, screamed—nothing changed his mind. Leo was adamant that it was “just work.” He finally threatened me with divorce, and I had no choice but to back down. I didn’t refuse his offer. But as he reached out to pull me into his arms, I spoke softly. “Leo, let’s get a divorce.”

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“Freda’s father is a lost cause! Save Lily first!” I never thought the most twisted joke imaginable would play out right before my eyes. The words, spoken by my husband, were a bullet to my reviving heart. I scrambled to my feet, grabbing at Kyle’s shirt with all my strength, only for him to kick me away with brutal force. “You were unconscious for five whole minutes, Freda! Do you have any idea what that means?” he snarled, his face a mask of feigned righteousness. “Your dad was swept further downstream, but Lily is still struggling right here in the water!” His voice dripped with venom. “If you want to blame someone, blame your father! If he hadn’t insisted on coming, would the raft have capsized in the first place?” The way he stood there, so straight and certain, made my stomach churn with nausea. In my last life, I had trusted him completely. And what did it get me? It got me my father’s tragic death. It got me a hospital bed, where I fought for my life after nearly drowning, while he spent the entire night buying flowers to comfort my best friend, Lily. Reborn into this moment, I would not let it happen again. I swore it. 1 “Please, I’m begging you, save my father!” I screamed at the rescue team. “The woman in the water is my best friend, and she’s a strong swimmer!” My desperation only fueled Kyle’s rage. He swung his hand, and a sharp slap sent me sprawling to the ground. “Freda, this is not the time for your tantrums! Do not question my judgment!” he bellowed for all to hear. “Are you all insane? Are you going to ignore the person right in front of you to chase a lost cause? Do you want both of them to die? Who here is willing to take responsibility for that? Go! Save Lily! Save her now!” A ringing filled my ears. I cut through Kyle’s tirade, summoning every last bit of strength to scream over him. “If you don’t go save my father, I will die right here, right now, for all of you to see!” Finally, my threat registered. Two rescuers broke off and swam towards Lily, but the larger part of the team headed downstream, in search of my father. Kyle shot me a look of pure ice before rushing towards Lily’s position. Watching his desperate back, the last flicker of hope I held for him burned to ash. When I next saw my father, he was unconscious from the water he’d inhaled. He looked just as he had in my last life—pale and lifeless on a stretcher, a rescuer tirelessly performing CPR. My heart pounded with panic. I dialed 911 over and over until I heard a crackle from the rescue captain’s radio. “Is the ambulance here yet?” “We’ve got one. The second is stuck in traffic, it’s going to be delayed…” Before I could ask anything else, a shocked and furious voice cut through the air. It was Kyle. “Lily, you’re hurt!” He knelt, gently blowing on a scrape on Lily’s ankle, his eyes filled with a tenderness he never showed me. The way they looked at each other was so thick with intimacy it was almost tangible. I couldn’t believe I had been so blind to it in my past life. This time, I didn’t miss the triumphant glint in Lily’s eyes as she glanced at me. A bone-deep chill washed over me. In my last life, it was for a few pathetic scrapes like this that Kyle had let my father die. The wail of a siren grew closer. The ambulance was here. As a paramedic and I lifted my father’s stretcher, Kyle moved to block our path, his eyes darting around nervously. “Freda, let’s have Dad wait a bit. The second ambulance will be here soon!” he pleaded, trying to keep his voice low. “Lily’s leg is hurt badly. She needs to get to a hospital right away.” He physically blocked the ambulance doors, trying to keep us from being seen. “It’ll be fine! Dad has always been strong. He’s just unconscious!” he insisted. “But Lily, she’s so fragile, and her ankle is still bleeding!” “Get. Out. Of. My. Way!” I broke. The good-natured, patient Freda he knew was gone. I shoved him with a fury that stunned him. In his moment of shock, Lily limped over, her face a mask of theatrical sorrow. “Freda… after all our years as friends, how could you do this to me?” she whimpered, huge tears rolling down her cheeks. “It’s not like we’re not going to save your dad. It’s just a small delay. Why are you being so difficult?” Kyle’s hand rose as if to wipe her tears, but catching my eye, he froze. One was the best friend I’d known since childhood. The other, the man I’d loved from high school prom to our wedding day. And right here, in front of me, they were performing a grand, heart-wrenching drama of forbidden love. The double betrayal was a physical pain in my chest. “Lily? What are you doing here?” A round-faced nurse hurried from the ambulance, her eyes lighting up in recognition. My heart leaped into my throat. The paramedic was one of Lily’s colleagues from the hospital. 2 “Jenna, my leg is injured! You have to get me in the ambulance first,” Lily said, her voice urgent. “I can’t do that,” the nurse, Jenna, replied firmly. “Hospital policy is clear. We prioritize critical patients.” I breathed a sigh of relief as the other medic and I loaded my father into the vehicle. Just before the doors closed, I saw Kyle talking to Jenna. He started to take off his watch, but she pushed his hand away. My focus was on my father’s still form. I didn’t think much of it, just urged the driver to go. The next second, the doors were flung open again. In the harsh sunlight, I heard Jenna’s disdainful voice. “If you don’t have money, why did you call an ambulance? The fee for a long-distance mountain call-out is expensive! Get him out of the vehicle, now!” My father’s stretcher was being pulled back out. “I have money! Let my father stay, I can pay!” I screamed, my voice raw. “Then prove you can pay,” Jenna said, her brow furrowed in suspicion. My phone was at the bottom of the river. I searched my pockets—not a single dollar in cash. Without thinking, I ripped the Patek Philippe from my wrist and held it out to her. “Take this watch as collateral! It’s more than enough to cover the fee. Just let my father go!” Jenna let out a derisive snort. “A Patek Philippe? Your husband already tried to fool me with a fake watch just now. You’re pulling the same trick?” A cold dread washed over me. Now I understood what Kyle had been doing. Lily’s voice dripped with scorn. “Pathetic. Acting rich when you’re broke.” Kyle grabbed my hand, playing his part in their little drama. “We didn’t mean to deceive anyone,” he said, his voice laced with false humility. “Please, just have a heart. Do a little charity work and take my father-in-law to the hospital.” I wrenched my hand free. “He’s lying! My watch is real! Give me your phone, I can log into my bank account and show you!” Jenna’s face hardened. “You have money for doctors but not to take care of your own family? Just take him home and let him rest. Stop wasting our time!” The medics continued to unload the stretcher. In the end, I was left on the roadside, watching helplessly as the ambulance sped away with Lily inside. I grabbed Kyle’s sleeve, my voice trembling with rage. “Why did you lie? I don’t even care that you’re sleeping with Lily! But my father needs a doctor!” “If anything happens to my father, I swear I will never let you go.” The rafting rescue team was still there, squatting by the road, watching the show. Seeing them, Kyle’s face flushed with anger. “Stop being so unreasonable! There’s nothing going on between me and Lily, so stop spouting nonsense!” he hissed. “Lily’s leg injury couldn’t wait! There’s another ambulance coming, what’s the big deal about your father waiting a little?” The disappointment was like a thick sludge, filling my lungs, making it hard to breathe. “In seven years of marriage,” I asked, the question that had haunted me for years finally escaping, “have you ever, for one second, considered my father your family?” Kyle’s lips pressed into a thin line, his face a canvas of guilt and discomfort. … Kyle and I were each other’s first love. To marry him, I had given up everything my family offered me. During our poorest years, I ate expired food with him and slept in a storage unit, my body covered in ant bites. One night, he walked for four hours in a downpour just to get me medicine from a pharmacy. As he applied the ointment, he swore with tears in his eyes, “I swear to God, I, Kyle Miller, will make Freda happy for the rest of her life. If I break this vow, may I die a horrible death!” Later, when his startup began to see success, my family finally relented. We walked hand in hand in the snow, dreaming of growing old together. First love was sweet. So sweet, I thought it would last a lifetime. That illusion shattered after we were married, when a media outlet dug up the fact that my father had been the primary investor in his company’s initial stock offering. The news was everywhere. The brilliant young CEO was branded a gold-digger, a man who got ahead by leeching off a woman. He never said a word, acting as considerate as always, but something between us had irrevocably changed. He smoked more, his silence filled with a volatile, brooding anger. One night, drunk and disoriented, he confessed his true feelings. “Do you know what I hate most in this world? Handouts,” he slurred. “Freda… I wish I had never met you.” 3 My thoughts snapped back to the present. I saw the tense line of Kyle’s jaw. “That’s not important,” he answered dismissively. The entire time, his feet were pointed in the direction Lily’s ambulance had disappeared. The irony was suffocating. His body was here, but his heart was long gone. When the second ambulance finally arrived, my father’s pulse was terrifyingly weak. Once we were inside, I ignored Kyle completely, my eyes glued to the heart monitor. Not long after we started moving, my father’s heart rate began to plummet, at one point dropping into the 30s. “Dad, please wake up…” I cried, my voice tearing from my throat. Kyle finished a phone call and stood up, speaking to the driver. “Can you go any faster? Don’t take the detour to the other hospital. Go to the nearest town clinic, now!” A few minutes later, miraculously, my father’s heart rate began to climb back up. I was crying with relief, so much so that even the sight of Kyle beside me wasn’t as repulsive. The ninety-minute drive took the driver less than thirty. We arrived at the clinic and were rushed through for an emergency examination. The CT results were bad. A cerebral hemorrhage, with significant bleeding. The doctor informed me that the local clinic wasn’t equipped to handle it; he needed to be transferred to a more specialized hospital. “Kyle, thank you for arranging for the ambulance to come to our hospital,” Lily said, pouting as she tugged on his arm. “I thought the equipment here would be enough. I had no idea Uncle was so seriously injured…” My body swayed. I stared at Kyle in disbelief. He pushed Lily away and took a step towards me, his face a picture of apology. “Freda, let me explain…” I turned my back on him without a word, following the paramedics as they loaded my father into yet another ambulance. As we drove, a part of my heart crumbled to dust. I knew, with absolute certainty, that there was no going back for us. When we reached the next hospital, the accompanying nurse quickly briefed the on-duty doctor. After a quick call to the relevant department, the doctor looked at me with a flicker of pity in his eyes. “I’m so sorry. Our hospital’s only neurosurgeon is on leave today…” A roar filled my head. A wave of immense despair washed over me. We were at least six hours from the nearest major city hospital. Without a surgeon, who could save my father? The rain was relentless, splashing up from the open courtyard, soaking the cuffs of my pants. A figure slowly emerged from the downpour and stood before me, holding out a hand. “Freda, let’s take Dad home. Let’s be with him for his final moments.” It was Kyle. I recoiled in disgust, my mind racing, desperately trying to think of a solution. Suddenly, I saw Lily in the hospital courtyard, arguing with a strange man. What is she doing here? A sense of unease pricked at me, and I started walking towards them. Kyle caught up to me. “That’s Lily’s ex-boyfriend,” he explained, a hint of annoyance in his voice. “He’s from a poor family and has been harassing her for money since they broke up. Lily has always had a boyfriend, Freda. You need to stop being so suspicious…” The man arguing with Lily was dressed in worn-out clothes, his slippers so old they had holes in them. He looked exactly as Kyle described. I stopped. My father was dying. I couldn’t waste time on idle curiosity. But as I turned to walk back, passing Kyle, a single raindrop hit my forehead, and my mind cleared with shocking clarity. Wrong. Those weren’t worn-out slippers. They were surgical clogs. As Kyle watched in stunned confusion, I bolted through the rain like a madwoman. “Doctor! I’m Freda Sterling! My father has a cerebral hemorrhage and needs surgery…” I cried, grabbing the strange man’s sleeve. The man, Dr. Miller, frowned. “Are you with them? This other woman just told me you had decided against signing the consent form for surgery.” Kyle rushed over, his voice sharp with accusation. “Freda, what do you think you’re doing, grabbing onto another man like that?” He grabbed my arm, trying to pull me away. SLAP! I hit him with all the force I could muster.

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At dinner, my mother-in-law Martha claimed she was a time traveler from twenty years ago. We dismissed it as medication side effects—until she confronted Arthur: “Why are we living worse than twenty years back? I gave you my brother’s factory spot!” Arthur went silent. Later, Martha begged me to tail him on my scooter. We watched as a Rolls-Royce pulled up. A suited man stepped out: “Mr. Thorne, the luxury care suite is ready. No more pretending to be poor.” Martha collapsed against me, sobbing. “Why do you look shocked too?” she gasped. Because in that Rolls sat my “humble delivery driver” husband. 1 Martha, in a daze, stumbled after the disappearing Rolls-Royce, her feet catching on an uneven paving stone. She went down hard. A young couple rushed to help her up, but she just stared at the empty street, refusing to move. “Lady, if you’re trying to pull an insurance scam, you picked the wrong car,” the girl said, half-joking. “That’s a Rolls-Royce. And not just any Rolls—look at the plate, CV-0002.” Martha looked at the girl’s envious face, completely bewildered. “CV-0001 belongs to the famous Vivian Vance, the wife of the Thorne Industries chairman,” the girl chattered on, full of celebrity gossip. “And CV-0002 belongs to the chairman himself, Arthur Thorne. Who knew the head of such a massive corporation was such a romantic? Totally whipped, I bet.” The more the girl talked, the darker Martha’s expression became. When she heard the name ‘Vivian Vance’, her eyes looked like they were about to burst from their sockets. “Arthur Thorne… After twenty years, you’re still with that bitch.” Sensing the shift in mood, the boyfriend gave his girlfriend a nudge, and they quickly made their escape. I was rooted to the spot, my limbs heavy as lead. My phone slipped from my numb fingers, its screen still glowing with a news headline:【INTERNATIONAL SUPERMODEL SHERYL STARR AND HEIR SANDY THORNE HIT THE CLUB FOR A WILD NIGHT OUT】. The man in the photo, his face splashed across the screen, was the same man I knew as my husband. My husband, whose supposed battle with leukemia had drained our life savings and plunged us into a mountain of debt. It wasn’t just my father-in-law who was living a lie. It was my husband, Sandy, too. If I hadn’t seen him with my own eyes, sitting in the back of that Rolls-Royce in a perfectly tailored suit, I would never have believed it. The husband I’d worked three jobs for, the man I’d pulled back from the brink of death’s door by feeding him rice porridge and pickles to save every penny… was the heir to the Thorne Industries empire. Martha had told me her story. Twenty years ago, she had used her family’s connections to get Arthur, who could barely read, into college and land him a respectable job in the city. They had a beautiful son. An accident had thrown her forward in time, and she had expected to wake up to a comfortable, upper-middle-class life. Instead, she woke up to this. The shrill ring of my phone snapped us both out of our stupor. “Kendra, were you moonlighting again? I’ve got customer complaints up to my ears. If I didn’t know you were supporting two cancer patients at home, I would have fired you on the spot. Hello? Are you there?” The voice on the other end was loud enough for Martha to hear every word. Her gaze sharpened, focusing on me. “Two cancer patients? Besides Sandy, who else…?” A horrifying thought seemed to dawn on her. She walked over to a nearby car and stared at her reflection in the side mirror. Sparse hair, a gaunt face, a frail frame paradoxically swollen by a bloated abdomen. “The doctors said you have late-stage stomach cancer,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “They said surgery might have helped, but you refused treatment. You wanted to save the money for Sandy’s bone marrow transplant, so you hid it from him and Arthur.” Martha stared at her reflection for a long, silent moment. Then, a chilling smile spread across her face. “Arthur Thorne,” she whispered to the broken woman in the mirror. “What will you do when you find out that the woman who gave you everything is dying because your little charade kept her from getting treatment?” 2 Following a business news alert, Martha found the hotel where Arthur was holding a meeting that afternoon. Though her mind was sharp and young, her sixty-year-old body was frail. She was panting heavily by the time she reached the lobby. Before she could even ask for the location of the conference room, the front desk clerk was already pinching her nose and rolling her eyes. “Ma’am, we don’t have any cans for you to collect here.” She gestured subtly for security to remove the “eyesore.” But Martha wasn’t leaving. She screamed, “I want to see Arthur Thorne!” Her voice echoed in the opulent lobby. “The land he just sold belonged to my family! How dare he use that money to buy that whore Vivian Vance a private island!” “Where did this crazy person come from?” the clerk muttered, looking at her with a mixture of pity and disgust. I arrived just in time to see her in a standoff with two burly security guards. As I moved to intervene, a pair of familiar figures emerged from the elevator: Arthur and Sandy. “After this meeting, Vivian and I are stepping back to enjoy our lives,” Arthur was saying. “You need to step up, son. Handle things.” “Don’t worry, Dad,” Sandy replied, a smug grin on his face. “I learned from the best. Kendra, just like Mom, is so hung up on a man being faithful. They don’t get it. For men like us, from families like ours, how could one woman ever be enough?” A blade of ice twisted in my gut. My nails had dug so deep into my palms that they’d drawn blood. “Sandy,” Arthur added, his tone more serious, “the empire comes first. Remember, I started with nothing. It was your mother who saved me. And Kendra… even though her family is ordinary, she stuck by you when you told her you had leukemia. She worked herself to the bone to pay off our ‘debts’. You won’t find that kind of loyalty in any of the blue-blooded women in our circle.” As the two impeccably dressed men walked past me, Sandy pinched his nose and quickened his pace. He whispered something to the front desk clerk, who immediately grabbed a can of air freshener and began spraying the path I had just walked, a look of profound apology on her face. At that moment, the guards manhandled a protesting Martha out of the hotel and shoved her onto the hot pavement. Just then, a black SUV pulled up. “Sandy!” Supermodel Sheryl Starr, teetering on stilettos, stepped out. She carefully stepped over Martha’s head to reach Sandy, linking her arm through his possessively. “How can a five-star hotel let in delivery drivers and homeless people?” Sheryl whined, her voice carrying across the lobby. “I almost twisted my ankle trying to avoid her.” Arthur frowned slightly, but the expression vanished as quickly as it appeared. Sandy, however, stroked Sheryl’s nose dotingly. “As long as my baby wasn’t hurt.” He shot a look at the security guards. They understood immediately, forming a human wall and using a velvet rope to cordon me and Martha off from the entrance. “Sandy, you ungrateful wolf! You’d kick out your own mother!” Martha shrieked, her voice raw with anguish. But her cries were lost, muffled by the thick, soundproof glass of the hotel lobby. The 100-degree sun beat down on us. Martha was drenched in sweat, her lips a deathly white. Suddenly, she coughed, spewing a mouthful of white foam mixed with blood. I scrambled to support her slumping body with one hand while frantically dialing Sandy’s number with the other. He rejected every call. Through the glass, I could see my husband. My husband, the son Martha had cherished for over twenty years. He was sitting on a plush leather sofa, his suit jacket off, the muscles of his abdomen visible through his silk shirt as he wrapped his arm around the scantily clad supermodel. Fueled by a surge of adrenaline, I broke through the confusion and charged into the conference room. When Sandy saw me, his eyes darted away. He quickly dropped his hand from Sheryl’s waist. “Kendra, what are you doing here? Don’t get the wrong idea, I’m just shooting a scene.” “Oh? A scene?” I shot back, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Since when are you famous enough for international supermodel Sheryl Starr to be your co-star in an intimate scene? Or is she just so in love she’s willing to be the other woman?” Sandy’s face went rigid. The others in the room, sensing the impending explosion, quickly and quietly filed out. “Sister,” Sheryl said, her earlier disdain replaced by a saccharine smile. “It must be so hot outside. Here, have some iced tea.” She held out a glass, and the massive diamond on her ring finger and the jade bangle on her wrist flashed, searing my eyes. “Oh, this old thing?” she said, noticing my stare. “I found it in Sandy’s room. I said I liked it, so he gave it to me. Later, I heard it was a family heirloom your mother gave you before she died. The one you sold to ‘help’ him. I suppose I should return it to its rightful owner.” Sandy stood there, silent, unable to meet my gaze. When he had told me he was giving up on his treatment because he was out of money, I had tearfully pawned the only thing my mother had left me. And now, it was on her wrist. As Sheryl handed it to me, she “accidentally” let it slip. It hit the marble floor with a sickening crack, shattering into a dozen pieces. Rage, white-hot and blinding, flooded my veins. I swung my hand and slapped her, hard. Sandy leaped in front of Sheryl, grabbing my arm and shoving me to the ground. Shards of the broken bangle dug deep into my palm, but I felt nothing. No pain. Just a vast, cold emptiness. “Kendra, what the hell is wrong with you? It’s just a stupid bracelet!” he snarled. “Don’t you know Sheryl’s a model? What if you hurt her face? How is she supposed to work?” With that, he shot me a look of pure disgust and led a whimpering Sheryl out of the room. My heart felt like a cavern, ripped open by a jagged knife. I couldn’t breathe. 3 By the time Arthur arrived at the hospital, Martha was awake. The moment she saw him, she ripped the IV from her arm, scrambled off the bed, and launched herself at him, her fists pounding against his chest. “Arthur Thorne! You really were with that bitch! I saw it all!” Arthur clutched his stinging cheek, a flicker of surprise in his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by something that looked unnervingly like relief. “Martha, we’re not young anymore. Just focus on getting better. We can live out our days peacefully. That’s what’s important.” In the two years I’d been married to Sandy, Arthur had always been the picture of a refined gentleman, unfailingly polite to family and strangers alike. I’d never seen him lose his temper, not even now, with a red handprint blooming on his face. Even the patient in the next bed was looking at Martha like she was being unreasonable. Martha’s eyes were bloodshot. She glared at Arthur, then lunged again, but Sandy stepped between them. “Mom! You’ve seen who Dad is now! He’s the chairman of a major corporation! He spent years playing along with your little games. Look at yourself! You can’t even dance with him. Now look at Aunt Vivian! Her skin, her figure… she looks like she’s thirty. She goes on trips with us. You never even let me go to summer camp as a kid. In the end, it was Aunt Vivian who took me!” Martha’s face turned ashen. Her lips trembled, and she pointed a shaking finger at Sandy, speechless. “Sandy, you ungrateful brat! I got cancer scrimping and saving for your ‘illness’, and you’re taking their side?” “Cancer?” Sandy scoffed. “You’re still using that old trick? Haven’t you learned anything new in twenty years?” Both Arthur and Sandy’s faces were grim. Sandy shot a quick, accusatory glance in my direction. “Honestly, Mom, just calm down,” he continued, his tone patronizing. “Aunt Vivian helped find this place for you. It’s a luxury care facility. A million a year. We could never have earned that in a lifetime before. Just relax and enjoy your retirement. Dad and I will visit often.” “Get out! Both of you, get out!” Martha shrieked, grabbing a water glass and hurling it at Sandy. Arthur and Sandy exchanged a look, shook their heads, and left the room. Martha lay on the bed, silent and still. “Honey,” the woman in the next bed said to me as I walked in. She was peeling lychees for the man lying in her bed. “Your mother-in-law acts like a twenty-year-old, still expecting fairy-tale love.” Martha’s eyes filled with tears as she watched the couple, perhaps remembering a time when she had cared for Arthur with the same devotion. Suddenly, a machine by her bed let out a piercing shriek. A doctor rushed in, saw the reading on Martha’s blood oxygen monitor, and immediately shoved her into the emergency room. “Her abdomen is completely filled with fluid,” the doctor said gravely when he came out to find the next of kin. “The family needs to prepare for the worst.” 4 I must have called a hundred times. Finally, a sharp, feminine voice echoed down the hallway. “Wow, a total amateur with better acting skills than a professional. Is it money you want? Is a thousand dollars enough?” Sheryl Starr sauntered over, a wave of perfect curls bouncing on her shoulders. She held a wad of cash and shoved it into my hands. “My future father-in-law already told me about your little mother-daughter-in-law act. Consider this your salary for today’s performance.” “Sheryl! Sandy’s mother is in critical condition! She could die at any moment!” I yelled. Sheryl just smirked, tapped her phone, and raised an eyebrow. “Even better. Sandy’s real mother should have always been Aunt Vivian. You and that old hag can crawl back to whatever hole you came from.” A cheerful, middle-aged woman’s laugh crackled from the phone. 【Sheryl, dear, I knew I was right about you. When you and Sandy get married, I’ll give you all the limited-edition bags and jewelry Arthur gave me.】 “Thank you, Aunt Vivian,” Sheryl cooed, her face stretched into a smile so wide it looked painful. She rolled her eyes as she hung up, then immediately picked up another phone. “Aunt Vivian and I have Sandy’s and Arthur’s phones. Don’t even think about reaching them today.” With a flick of her hair, she strode away from the ER doors. I tried calling them again. This time, all I got was the cold, robotic voice of the voicemail service. “We did everything we could,” the doctor said, shaking his head. “The patient’s abdominal cavity was full of fluid. If she had come to the hospital sooner to have it drained, she might have had a few more days.” I looked at Martha, lying still on the bed. Her face was dark and weathered, her skin like parchment from years of collecting scrap under the brutal sun to make ends meet. A chilling thought crept into my mind. If Martha hadn’t time-traveled, in twenty years, would that be me lying on that bed? Before she passed, Martha gave me her last will and testament: her ashes were to be scattered to the wind, never to be given to Arthur Thorne or his son. After handling her affairs, I left a signed divorce agreement on the dining table and walked out of that house for good. A few days later, my phone exploded with calls. 【Kendra, what is the meaning of this? You insisted on marrying me when we had nothing, and now that you know my family is wealthy, you want a divorce? Is this another one of your games? You’d better show your face right now.】 I blocked Sandy’s number, only to receive a message from Arthur demanding to know where Martha was. 【268 Longsea Road.】 I replied. 【Why is she working at a funeral home? What a morbid place.】

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