Category: English

I was scrolling through Reddit when I saw a photo of myself. The caption read: [Title: My online girlfriend of one year refuses to meet me. What should I do?] The next second, my roommate suddenly leaned in close: “Guys, how can I lose 30 pounds in a month?” While I was still confused, she added: “Lily, if I lose weight, do you think we’d look alike?” 1 I stared at the Reddit post. The comments had already piled up into a skyscraper. [Bro, wake up. That’s definitely a catfish using a stolen photo. You’re being scammed!] [She won’t meet you because the photos are probably edited beyond recognition. Why else would she be scared?] The OP was still desperately defending her: [Impossible. We’ve voice chatted, and she sends me selfies from different angles every day. It can’t be Photoshop!] My mind went blank. In that photo, I was wearing my pajamas. There was no way that photo should be public. Just then, Bella’s voice floated down from the top bunk: “Guys, seriously, is it possible to lose 30 pounds in a month?” Another roommate on the opposite bed rolled over laughing. “Why? Are you in love? Losing 30 pounds in a month? You might as well starve to death!” Bella ignored her. She climbed down the ladder and ran over to me. Her gaze fixed straight on my face, scanning my features inch by inch. I was creeped out by her staring and took a step back. Suddenly, she spoke: “Lily, be honest. “If I lose weight, do you think we’d look somewhat alike?” The air froze. I looked up at her round cheeks, words stuck in my throat. 2 My heart hammered against my ribs, but I pushed down the rising panic. I kept my voice steady: “Who’s your boyfriend? Do we know him?” Bella lifted her chin. “You know Sterling Real Estate? He’s from that family!” She pulled a boastful smile. “Last month he sent me a bracelet worth over a grand, and he said he’d take me to meet his parents after graduation.” My roommate snorted with laughter. “A rich kid? He must have… unique tastes.” The smugness on Bella’s face instantly solidified, then her face flushed red. “What do you mean? He loves my soul!” Her voice was shrill, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. “He says I’m interesting, I understand him! I get him! What do you guys know!” The dorm fell silent, the atmosphere awkward. That Reddit thread was still updating. The OP asked: [I want to surprise her. What kind of guys do girls like this go for?] I looked up. Looking at Bella’s red nose. “Have you guys met in person? Is this an online relationship?” The other two roommates looked at her simultaneously, waiting for an answer. “Bella, don’t tell me you’ve never met?” “Yeah, don’t tell me you’re catfishing him.” It was meant as a joke, but the blood drained from Bella’s face rapidly. Her lips pressed tightly together. A moment later, she hastily dropped a “My advisor is looking for me” and grabbed her coat, rushing out the door. 3 The three of us left in the dorm looked at each other. That night, Bella couldn’t help showing off again. “Ethan knew I was in a bad mood today, so he ordered me a premium sushi platter. Four figures per person!” She brought back a takeout box that looked expensive. But I clearly saw my name on the receipt. The roommates exploded. “Holy crap! Ethan Sterling? Isn’t he the heartthrob from F University next door?” “He’s the heir to Sterling Real Estate? Bella, you caught a golden turtle!” She laughed lightly. “Of course. My boyfriend loves me very much!” No one needed to pry. Bella voluntarily confessed everything about Ethan. “My boyfriend loves gentle and considerate women like me the most. “Especially girls who love small animals.” She talked endlessly. “He says he likes me best with long hair, wearing dresses, looking clean and fresh.” “But your hair isn’t long…” A roommate pointed out. Bella choked and stopped talking. Likes long hair, wearing dresses, right? Well then, I’ll happily accept this boyfriend. 4 Weekend. I deliberately chose a white sundress. My long hair was let down, with just a simple wooden hairpin holding up a few strands. In the mirror, I looked like the picture of innocence. I waited by the basketball court at F University for nearly half an hour. Finally, Ethan walked toward the court. Simple white T-shirt, grey sweatpants, tall and straight. My heartbeat started to speed up, but it was mostly a strange kind of excitement. I took a deep breath, suppressing the nervousness. I quickened my pace, pretending to be distracted, and just as he was about to enter the court, I suddenly turned. “Oh!” I feigned panic. My whole body crashed into him. I fell precisely into his arms. A faint scent of sandalwood filled my nose. Reflexively, he reached out to steady my waist. “Ah! I’m sorry!” I exclaimed, still in his arms, my long hair cascading down. Ethan was stunned by this sudden “attack.” He looked down at me, his eyes full of surprise. “You…” Just as he started to speak, I interrupted him. “Sorry, sorry, I was in such a hurry to get back to class, I wasn’t watching where I was going.” I quickly stood firm, keeping my head down, avoiding his eyes. Leaving a hurried apology, I turned and walked away quickly. I could feel his gaze on my back, but I walked faster. Behind me, he seemed to be calling me, but I turned a deaf ear. 5 I walked briskly, heading straight for the school gate. Behind me came the sound of hurried footsteps and shouting. “Miss!” I didn’t stop, continuing forward. “Miss, please wait!” He finally caught up, grabbing my wrist. Like a startled rabbit, I whipped my head around, my face showing just the right amount of panic. “What… what are you doing?” I looked at him, my eyes full of defensiveness and confusion. Ethan was panting, a thin layer of sweat on his forehead. He looked at me, his eyes holding complex emotions I couldn’t read. “I…” He seemed to be organizing his words. I spoke first, a hint of grievance in my tone: “I apologized just now, I didn’t mean to bump into you.” I lowered my head, my voice getting smaller, “Do you want something else?” Looking pitiful, as if scared by him. He froze. His brows furrowed tightly, staring dead at my face, as if confirming something. “You don’t know me?” He finally asked the question. I looked up, blinked blankly, and then burst out laughing. The laugh was light, with a trace of amused helplessness. “Should we know each other?” I tilted my head looking at him, my eyes clear and open, full of pure unfamiliarity. “Is this the popular way guys pick up girls nowadays?” I deliberately dragged out the tone, a bit of teasing in my smile. With that, I didn’t give him any time to react. I pulled my wrist back and waved at him. “I’m leaving now, bye.” I turned. And walked toward the bus stop without looking back. I could feel his burning gaze, but I didn’t dare turn around. 6 My heart raced all the way back, but my face remained calm. Pushing open the dorm door, Bella was showing off a brand new Chanel box. “Look, Ethan sent me a New Year’s gift.” She lifted her chin, unable to hide her smugness. “The latest bag, a Chanel dress, and he transferred me $5200.” I didn’t speak, silently changing my shoes. She glanced at me and clicked her tongue. “Look at you, wasting that face. All you know is working part-time jobs, you deserve to be tired.” She looked me up and down contemptuously. “You don’t even know how to use your advantages.” I put down my water bottle, smiled, and didn’t reply. Just then, her phone rang. Seeing the caller ID, a flash of panic crossed Bella’s face. She took the phone to the balcony, lowering her voice. But I could still hear snippets, her tone urgent and fawning. A few minutes later, she walked back in, looking grim. “Hey,” she started unnaturally, “send me a selfie of you, right now.” I knew what was happening. “Sure.” I agreed readily, not asking why. I opened my gallery, deliberately scrolling past a few normal photos. Finally, I picked one from before I left today, wearing the white dress, hair down, smiling at the sunlight in the most clean and harmless way. Bella immediately looked down and tapped furiously on her phone. I pretended to organize my things, but watched her out of the corner of my eye. I saw her brows knitting tighter and tighter, staring at the screen, as if typing furiously at someone. Finally, she threw her phone onto the desk in frustration. Muttering unconsciously to herself: “What’s going on… he’s acting weird today.” I lowered my head, the corners of my mouth uncontrollably curling up.

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My fiancé, Carter, photoshopped my head out of our wedding photos and replaced it with his high school sweetheart’s face. He posted it on Instagram with the caption: “Ten years of waiting, finally an echo.” When I confronted him, furious, he shrugged it off. “What’s the big deal? Everyone can tell it’s photoshopped. It’s just a joke between friends. Isn’t that normal?” But on our wedding day, Carter’s friends and family all treated his “white moonlight,” Bella, as the bride. I grabbed Carter’s arm, begging him to acknowledge me, to tell them I was the one marrying him. instead, he pretended not to know me, turning his back to let Bella take his arm. Mistaken for a crazy woman trying to crash the wedding, I was dragged out by security and ended up in the ER with broken ribs. Lying in the hospital bed, I finally let go. I dialed the number of the mother I hadn’t spoken to in three years. “Mom, I agree to the arranged marriage.” 1 During my hospital stay, my fiancé didn’t call once. Instead, I saw a new post from Bella on Instagram. [Broad shoulders, narrow waist. So protective. Not sure if I can handle him tonight.] The photo showed Carter wearing only a towel around his waist, gently blow-drying Bella’s hair. His expression was tender, as if he were handling a priceless treasure. In the past, seeing this photo would have made me call Carter immediately. I would have screamed, asking why they weren’t setting boundaries, if Bella’s hands were broken, if he remembered he had a fiancée, if he loved me at all… But now, looking at the photo, I felt nothing. I even liked the post. A second later, Carter called. “Babe, don’t misunderstand. Bella’s hand got hurt at the wedding. I’m just helping her dry her hair.” Hurt at the wedding? I laughed coldly. Because Carter photoshopped our wedding photos with Bella’s face, the guests thought she was the bride. As the actual bride, I just wanted Carter to clarify. Instead, he said, “The bride is Bella. This girl is just a stalker obsessed with me.” That one sentence got me swarmed by his friends and family. I was beaten black and blue. And Bella? She got pricked by a safety pin while trying to rip the corsage off my chest. Love and indifference are so obvious. I was beaten until I couldn’t move, lying in a hospital bed. Bella got a pinprick and apparently lost the ability to take care of herself. My heart twitched. My feelings for him vanished in that instant. “Okay, I don’t misunderstand.” “If that’s it, I’m hanging up.” Carter, seemingly afraid I didn’t believe him, continued: “About the wedding… I just didn’t want Bella to feel embarrassed about the mix-up, so I didn’t clarify your identity. Please don’t be mad. We can redo the wedding later, okay?” I listened quietly. He was afraid Bella would be embarrassed. What about me? “I don’t care. You don’t need to explain.” Maybe because my tone was flat, not the usual instant forgiveness he expected, his apologetic voice turned angry. “Quinn, I already explained. What is this attitude?” “Why are you giving me attitude?” I was silent. My attitude? For years, no matter what mistakes Carter made or how many boundaries he crossed, the moment he showed weakness, I forgave him. I pretended nothing happened. I thought a man showing vulnerability was the ultimate apology. And now, after this? He still thought I would forgive him. I suddenly felt exhausted. My whole body ached as if I’d been run over by a truck. Hearing him continue to question me on the phone, I couldn’t take it anymore. I was about to hang up. Then Carter added: “By the way, discharge yourself tonight. You’re strong and thick-skinned, stop being dramatic about staying in the hospital.” “On your way back, stop by Peking Duck House and pick up an order. I’m craving it.” Peking Duck House was in Uptown. Our apartment was in Downtown. An hour and a half round trip. Carter really treated me like a dog. 2 I discharged myself. My hand was still throbbing, the cast heavy on my arm. I had to take an Uber home. But because of my injured hand, the fingerprint lock wouldn’t work. And the passcode kept showing as incorrect. Assuming Carter was home, I knocked. The door opened. It was Bella. She welcomed me in warmly, acting like the hostess. “Quinn, you’re back? Carter is in the shower.” “Oh, my bad. I hurt my finger, remember? Carter was worried the fingerprint scanner wouldn’t work for me, so he changed the passcode.” “It’s the anniversary of the day Carter and I started dating. You definitely wouldn’t know it. I’ll text it to you later.” Anniversary? Carter couldn’t remember my birthday, but he remembered the anniversary with his ex. I looked at Bella. She was wearing matching pajamas with Carter—the ones we bought. Her hair was dry, braided messily to the side, clearly Carter’s handiwork. She was holding a razor. Bella noticed my gaze. “Carter asked me to shave him. You don’t know, but back when we were together, he insisted I shave him every time. He wouldn’t let anyone else do it.” “Please don’t mind. We’re just friends now.” “If you’re unhappy, here, you do it.” She forcefully shoved the razor into my injured hand. Just then, the bathroom door opened. Carter walked out wearing the matching male pajama set. He was towel-drying his hair. “Bella, didn’t you say you’d help me shave? Why aren’t you coming in?” He froze when he saw me. His face, flushed from the steam, turned pale instantly. He walked over quickly to explain. “I was just tired, so I asked Bella to help me shave. Don’t misunderstand.” Honestly, their relationship didn’t need any more misunderstanding. Hand hurt, can’t dry hair. Arm sore, can’t shave. Can’t do anything for themselves, but happy to do everything for each other. I handed the razor back to Bella and walked toward the bedroom. Carter grabbed me, seemingly panicked. “Quinn, what is your attitude? You ignore me on the phone, and now I’m explaining to your face and you’re acting like this.” “Don’t push your luck!” He gripped my wrist hard, ignoring the fact that it was injured. “Also, why are you empty-handed? Didn’t I tell you to buy the duck?” “Why don’t you ever listen to me? Go buy it now!” The pain in my wrist finally snapped my patience. “I’m not buying it!” I shook off his hand and continued to the bedroom. Inside, I saw clothes scattered on the floor—jackets, underwear. On the bed were torn stockings and boxers. And hanging off the corner of our framed engagement photo… was a broken black bra strap. 3 Carter blocked my path, trying to close the door. “I just changed in here, it’s a bit messy.” “Go buy the duck. I’ll clean up the room.” I looked at him, then turned and went into the guest room. The walls weren’t soundproof, so I could hear everything in the living room clearly. “Carter, don’t be mad. I don’t need the duck. Don’t be hard on Quinn, she’s in a bad mood.” “Carter, if you’re hungry, I’ll cook for you, okay?” “Bella, you’re just too generous. unlike that woman. I told her a million times, but she always has to go against me.” “Okay, okay, let me shave you first. Or it’ll be scratchy tonight.” The voices in the living room faded. I dialed the number I hadn’t called in three years. “Mom, about that arranged marriage you mentioned… I agree.” My mom was overjoyed. “Daughter, you finally came to your senses! Dad and I are getting old, you’re our only child. You have no idea… you abandoned us for that man. Your dad’s hair turned white from worry these past five years.” “I heard about the wedding. That man isn’t worth your devotion. He’s fickle. He doesn’t deserve you.” “But since you agreed to the arrangement… how about the 8th of next month?” My mom’s voice sounded aged. My eyes welled up. I was so immature back then. I thought love conquered all. When my parents disapproved of Carter, I ran away with him without a second thought. Five years of no contact. But the moment I turned back, they were still there waiting for me. “Okay. I’ll leave as soon as I hand over my work here. Please help me plan the wedding.” “Wedding? What wedding?” The guest room door opened without warning. I hung up the phone subtly. I looked at Carter. He placed a takeout box on the nightstand. “Who were you talking to about a wedding?” “Didn’t I say we need to postpone the wedding for a while? Are you that desperate to marry me?” Looking at his panicked expression, I said calmly, “I was just explaining the situation to a friend.” Carter visibly relaxed. He opened the takeout box, revealing the roast duck inside. “You didn’t buy the duck, so Bella bought it.” “She was afraid you’d be upset, so she bought a whole one just for you. Quinn, let’s move past this. Don’t be unforgiving.” I covered my nose and mouth, turning my head away. Carter’s eyes flashed with annoyance. “What is this reaction? Bella was kind enough to apologize with food, and you’re disgusted?” “Are you going to waste her kindness? Quinn, don’t go too far!” Me? Go too far? “Do you not know I have a physiological revulsion to roast duck?” 4 Years ago, when Carter and I ran away together, we had less than a thousand dollars between us. To avoid burdening him, I took a job at a duck processing plant. I plucked thousands of ducks every day. The stench of raw poultry soaked into my skin. Over time, I developed a physiological nausea towards ducks. I couldn’t stand them, even cooked. Back then, Carter would hug me despite the smell. “Quinn, quit the job. seeing you like this breaks my heart. Your hands are peeling. I’m useless, making you suffer like this. I promise, I’ll make a lot of money and give you a good life.” But now, he forgot. I told him to take the duck away. Carter opened his mouth, but only said: “Sorry, Quinn. I forgot.” Actually, he didn’t forget. He just didn’t care anymore. In the past, he would cook dinner, do my laundry, and refuse to buy any duck products just so I wouldn’t smell it. He would hug me regardless of how I smelled. He once worked construction in 100-degree heat just to buy me a birthday cake. The past is gone. I walked to the window and took a deep breath, but the smell of duck grease still lingered. I dry heaved. Carter immediately tied up the bag. “What do you want to eat? I’ll make it.” I was about to say I didn’t need anything. Knock, knock. “Carter! I knocked over the takeout box and burned my hand! Can you take me to the hospital?” Carter immediately opened the door, looking at Bella with concern. “How could you be so careless? It’s all red. Your skin is so delicate, we can’t let it scar.” Before leaving, he remembered to say to me: “Quinn, I’m taking Bella to the hospital. She has a low pain tolerance.” The door slammed shut. I looked at the silent room and the takeout box on the nightstand. When the nausea passed, I took the box out to the trash. I saw Carter at the elevator, gently blowing on a small red spot on Bella’s hand. The elevator dinged. They entered. The doors closed, separating two worlds. And completely severing our future. 5 Carter didn’t come back. Bella, however, tirelessly sent me photos of her and Carter being intimate. I silently blocked Bella on WeChat. Next to the calendar, I placed an hourglass—a gift from Carter years ago. He said an hourglass could turn back time. So, I decided to give him three chances to fix his mistakes. I agreed. First chance was the marriage license. Second was the wedding. The last one was just now. Chances used up. Time to move on. Seven days left until the 8th. I handed in my resignation. My manager, Linda, valued me. She asked why I was leaving so suddenly; she had planned to promote me. I told her, “I’m going back home to get married.” Linda was at the wedding disaster. She looked at me, hesitant, then patted my shoulder. “If you decided to go through with it, I hope you live a good life.” I knew she misunderstood. I looked down for a moment, then smiled at her. “Not with him.” Linda paused, then seemed relieved. Even outsiders could see Carter wasn’t right for me. “Make sure you’ve thought it through this time.” I nodded. “My parents arranged it. It won’t be wrong.” “Good, good.” “Let me know when the wedding is. I’ll send a big red envelope.” I smiled. “Okay. You’re invited to the banquet.” Back home, I circled another date on the calendar. Two days left. The hourglass was slowly running out of sand. I called my only close friend in the city, Ben. He was Carter’s cousin and our matchmaker. He went to the same college as me. During school, he intentionally set Carter and me up. I didn’t blame him. But since I was leaving, I should say goodbye. Ben looked awkward when he saw me. He apologized profusely. “I’m so sorry, Quinn. I didn’t know Carter would turn into this.” “I haven’t dared to contact you. I felt so guilty.” “Hit me, scold me, I won’t say a word.” His dramatic expression made me laugh. “I know you meant well. It’s not anyone’s fault we ended up here.” Seeing I wasn’t angry, Ben said, “I already yelled at Carter. He said you forgave him and agreed to postpone the wedding.” “Is the date set?” I took a sip of coffee. “Yeah.” “The 8th.” “Isn’t that the day after tomorrow?” “Why didn’t Carter tell me?” I exhaled. “Not with him.” Ben’s eyes went wide. “You’re marrying someone else? Does Carter know?” “The person he always wanted to marry was Bella, not me.” 6 Ben realized I was truly moving on. He downed his drink. “It’s Carter’s loss.” These past few years, I gave up too much for Carter. A top-tier university grad working a dead-end job, living in a strange city alone, cutting off my parents. If Carter left me, I had nothing here. We chatted for a long time until his phone rang. It was Carter. “Bro, I want you to meet Bella. Come to Modi Café.” He put the phone down. Our eyes met. Carter walked in, holding hands with Bella. He panicked when he saw me and let go. But Bella grabbed his arm again, looking surprised. “Quinn! You’re here too? You’re with Carter’s cousin… are you tattling on us?” “My burn was serious, that’s why Carter left you to take me to the hospital. You know Carter is kindhearted. You should understand him best.” Carter chimed in. “Quinn, what’s going on? Didn’t I say we’d redo the wedding? Now you’re complaining to my cousin?” “Don’t forget, he and I are family. You’re just an outsider right now.” Hearing their attitude, Ben seemed to understand why I was marrying someone else. He snapped at Carter. “Carter, shut up!” Carter wouldn’t stop. “I don’t get it. You used to be so understanding. Why are you so petty and jealous now?” … I met Carter for the first time in Ben’s rental apartment. It was Winter Solstice. Ben made us wrap dumplings. I was clumsy, but Carter was good at it. I asked him to teach me. He held my hand, guiding me. Ben came back with vinegar and teased, “You two look like an old married couple.” I let go, blushing. Carter was too shy to look at me. Back then, I never imagined that a moment of flutter would cost me five years, only for us to drift apart. I watched Carter introduce Bella to Ben. Ben asked, “What do you mean by introducing her?” “Bella is my friend.” “Carter, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I know how men think. Bringing another woman to meet me sends a clear message. I hope you’ve thought about the consequences.” Bella twisted her fingers awkwardly. “I don’t have the status to know your brother. I overstepped.” “Carter, I should leave. You, your cousin, and Quinn should talk.” Her eyes were red, tears falling. She looked so wronged. Carter grabbed her hand without hesitation. “Why should you go? I brought you here. If anyone should leave, it’s the petty snitch.” Since he named me, I said goodbye to Ben and walked away. Ben tried to stop me, but Carter blocked him. “Bro, why chase her? She was wrong to tattle. Let her reflect on it. Otherwise, I’ll postpone the wedding again.” Ben stomped his foot, frustrated. “Carter, keep hurting her. When you really lose Quinn, don’t come crying to me.” “When she marries someone else, you’ll have nowhere to cry.” Carter didn’t care. “She loves me to death. She’s desperate for me to marry her. She’d never marry anyone else.” “Bro, stop overreacting.” “Bella is treating us to dinner. You have to come.” Bella suddenly called out to me. “Quinn, you come too.”

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Five years ago, due to a “mistake” in my hypnosis session, Julian’s first love, Vivienne, lost all her memories. I became the villain. Every day, I had to endure malicious hypnosis sessions conducted by the therapists Julian hired. “If it weren’t for you, how would Viv lose her memory? How would she forget me? How would she leave me and run off to Europe?!” I was tortured until I was barely human, my spirit shattered. I knelt and begged him to stop. But he just grabbed my neck, screaming until his voice broke. “This is what you owe me! What you owe Viv! You tore us apart! You have no right to beg for mercy!” My heart finally died. I hypnotized myself, erasing everything related to Julian. Later, on my wedding day to another man, Julian jumped from the 18th floor right in front of me. 1 Even when I regained consciousness, my body wouldn’t stop trembling. Meeting Julian’s dark, abyssal gaze, I suppressed the stabbing pain in my brain and rasped out: “Just kill me.” His eyes flickered slightly. Then, he pinched his cigarette, his face twisting into a mocking sneer. “Want to die? You think you deserve that release? You haven’t finished atoning for your sins.” I looked at him calmly, my eyes like dead water. Suddenly, he snapped. He lunged forward, strangling me. His eyes were filled with rage. “What right do you have to die?! You made me and Viv separate! You made her lose her memory and forget me! This is your karma!” I smiled bitterly, a dense, prickling pain spreading through my chest. Tears rolled down from the corners of my eyes into my hair. Yes. This is all my karma. Five years ago, Vivienne was almost assaulted. She had nightmares every night. My boyfriend, Julian, suggested I hypnotize her to make her forget that night. I hesitated. There are always uncontrollable risks. But Julian hugged me and begged. “Zoey, after this, I’ll cut ties with Viv, okay? I just see her as a sister. When we get married, she’ll be your sister too.” I couldn’t refuse him. I agreed. Everything went smoothly. But when Vivienne woke up, she had forgotten everyone. She even screamed and dodged when Julian tried to hug her, then secretly fled the country. Julian blamed it all on me. “You did it on purpose, didn’t you? You knew I only saw her as a sister! Why did you tamper with her mind and wipe her memory? How could you be so vicious?” I tried to explain, but he wouldn’t listen. “Stop lying! I promised I would marry you! Why did you do this to Viv? She’s innocent! Don’t you have any empathy?” The final straw was when he failed to bring Vivienne back and learned she had gotten married overseas. He went mad. He imprisoned me, got my medical license revoked, and destroyed my career. Every day, he brought different hypnotists to perform varying degrees of hypnosis on me. For five whole years. I couldn’t distinguish reality from dreams. I was nearly driven insane. My thoughts snapped back as Julian suddenly threw me aside. “Zoey, admit it! You thought if you erased Viv’s memory and drove her away, I’d fall in love with you?” “Dream on! Never! I will never love a vicious, manipulative woman like you! Looking at you makes me sick!” I pulled at the corners of my pale lips. My heart was already blurred with pain. Julian, I regret it. I shouldn’t have loved you. I stared blankly at the ceiling, muttering to myself. “I admit it.” Julian froze, looking at me with dark eyes. I didn’t care. I repeated it wearily. “I admit it. I hurt Vivienne. I plead guilty.” “Julian, can you kill me now?” 2 Bang! The door slammed shut. Julian left without a word. Only when the room was completely silent did I give in to the splitting headache, curling up and clutching my head. For so many years. Living hasn’t been any better than dying. In the middle of the night, I developed a high fever. When I woke up, I was in the hospital. Julian was sitting by my bed. I don’t know how long he’d been there. There were faint shadows under his eyes. “Why didn’t you say anything?” I was confused. He wasn’t angry. His voice was hoarse. “Why didn’t you tell me you had a fever? Do you want to die that badly? Zoey, you haven’t finished paying for your sins. What right do you have to die?” I stared blankly into his eyes. I saw a flash of concern. Before that incident, he used to care about me too. Because of my job, I often had to work late or travel. Sometimes I had to rush to patients’ homes in the middle of the night. He hated seeing me lose sleep. “Why don’t you quit, Zoey? I can support you. We’ll be married soon. You don’t have to work this hard. It hurts me to see you like this.” I refused. So he started accompanying me on house calls, staying up late with me, learning to make soup. “If I’m with you, you’ll feel better. If you’re working hard, I shouldn’t be sleeping peacefully.” “Remember, no matter how late you work, I’ll be home waiting for you. You’re not alone.” Once, I had a fever, but a patient was in critical condition. I rushed out without taking medicine or telling Julian. After stabilizing the patient, I fainted on the way home. Julian spent the whole night searching for me, step by step, until he found me and saved my life. When I woke up, he cried. “Zoey! Do you know how scared I was? I was terrified I wouldn’t find you. Are you stupid? You don’t care about your life for others? What would I do if something happened to you?” I had never felt two hearts could be so close. I thought we would love each other forever. Even our skeptical friends had to admit he really loved me. But I forgot. Hearts change. By the time I realized it, I was already sinking into the mud. Thinking of this, I looked out the window, my voice calm. “It would be better if I died. Why didn’t you just let the fever take me?” That year, when I fainted on the road. I wish you hadn’t found me. I wish I had died that day. Anything is better than this living hell. Julian’s face instantly darkened. His voice was cold. “Zoey! I told you! You don’t deserve to die! You haven’t paid your debt! Why should you die? I want you to live and suffer! I want you to regret everything you did to Viv!” My expression didn’t change. I even smiled. “Yeah. Whatever.” 3 Julian was acting weird. During my hospital stay, he watched me constantly. Probably afraid I’d commit suicide before I could finish “atoning.” It doesn’t matter anymore. On the day I was discharged, Julian came to pick me up. He was in a great mood, smiling the whole way. But the car wasn’t heading to the villa. We arrived at the airport. When I saw Vivienne throw herself into Julian’s arms, I finally understood. “Julian! I missed you so much! After all these years, I finally remembered you. I was so scared you wouldn’t want me anymore. I didn’t mean to leave you and get married five years ago, I just forgot everything…” Julian held Vivienne, soothing her gently. If this were the past, seeing this would have suffocated me with pain. But not anymore. Vivienne cried for a long time before calming down. Then she saw me getting into the car. Her face went pale instantly. She stumbled back, tears welling up in her eyes. But where Julian couldn’t see, she flashed me a malicious smile. “Julian, why is she here? I don’t want to see her! She made me lose my memory and separated us for so long. I don’t want to see her! I’m really scared.” Julian’s face went cold immediately. His eyes were full of disgust as he looked at me. “Zoey! This is all your fault! And you still haven’t apologized to Viv? You unrepentant witch!” With that, he threw me and my luggage out of the car. He got in with Vivienne and drove off. Before leaving, he dropped a cold command. “Walk back home before dark and kneel at the gate! Kneel until Viv is happy and satisfied! You should have thought about the consequences when you hurt her!” I pretended not to hear. I left my luggage and ignored the stares of passersby. With a pale face, I walked aimlessly, step by step. Until it was completely dark. My phone in my pocket kept ringing. I checked it. It was calls and messages from Julian. [Zoey! It’s late, why aren’t you back yet? Do you expect me to pick you up? You wish!] [Are you playing hard to get? Or are you doing this on purpose because Viv is back? You’re disgusting. Do you think I care?] I walked to the riverbank and sat down carefully, dipping my blistered feet into the water. The burning pain subsided instantly. I didn’t plan to reply. I sat there until late at night. Under a familiar tree, I dug up an old pocket watch. Julian gave it to me. I once joked, “If you ever betray me, I’ll use this watch to hypnotize myself and forget you forever!” What did he say back then? “Zoey, that day will never come.” But that day has come, hasn’t it? Fireflies began to light up around me, flying one by one. Memories flooded back. I loved fireflies, but they were hard to catch. When Julian found out, he secretly spent a week catching them, staying out all night. I didn’t know why, so I had a huge fight with him. He didn’t get angry. He took me to a hot spring resort he bought. We waited until late at night, and countless fireflies lit up around us. I saw the dark circles under his eyes. My eyes reddened, and I threw myself into his arms. “Zoey, you like fireflies, right? It’s warm here by the hot spring, they can survive even in autumn. Do you like it? Don’t be mad, okay? I didn’t stay out on purpose.” That year, I caught a firefly. I thought I kept the summer. But I forgot. That day was already the start of autumn. “Zoey.” 4 “What are you doing here in the middle of the night instead of crawling back home? Looking for death?” Julian’s voice suddenly sounded behind me. I stiffened. I turned around, but didn’t see the gentle gaze from the past. A wave of disappointment hit my heart. Then I laughed at myself. He hasn’t been him for a long time. Right? I should have known. “Zoey! Did I give you permission to die? Didn’t I tell you to kneel at the gate! What are you doing now! If you wanted to die, why didn’t you jump earlier!” “Are you just waiting for me to find you? Are you trying to compete with Viv now that she’s back? Is it fun for you? Aren’t you tired? Are you that cheap?” Julian marched forward and yanked me up. He didn’t speak again the whole way back. I watched the fireflies receding outside the car window. The last shred of affection in my heart disappeared completely. Julian. I want to forget the past. I don’t want you anymore. At the villa, I was forced to kneel at the gate. My knees hit the ground hard. The sound was so loud even Julian flinched for a second. “Zoey, stay here on your knees! Get up when Viv is in a good mood and forgives you.” “I’m warning you, don’t even think about bullying Viv again! You owe her this!” I nodded obediently. Ignoring the momentary stun in his eyes. Until Vivienne ran to the door, smiling and kissing Julian on the lips. He finally snapped out of it and patted her head fondly. I had seen this scene before. Back when I first sensed something was wrong, I caught them kissing in a bar. Julian didn’t care. Even when I made a scene, he looked impatient. “We lost a game, it was just a dare! We didn’t sleep together, stop making a big deal out of it! Besides, I just see Viv as a sister! Are you crazy?” Until my birthday. Friends pressured me to drink a few too many. In a daze, I saw them kissing passionately. Vivienne confessed with red eyes. “Julian, I really like you. Just let me stay by your side, I don’t ask for much. Don’t reject me, please?” Julian was silent for a moment, then hugged her back. How much it hurt then. Is how little it matters now. He loved her. I knew that long ago. Late at night, the lights on the second floor finally went out. Shivering, I pulled the old pocket watch from my chest. It was the perfunctory birthday gift Julian gave me that day. Now it was useful. Tick, tock, tick, tock. The watch swung before my eyes. My vision began to blur. Just as I was about to fall asleep, a shocked voice came from not far away. “Zoey! What are you doing?” What am I doing? I closed my eyes wearily and muttered to myself. “Forget you. Forget Julian.” “In every life, I never want to remember Julian again.” The next second, I fell into complete darkness.

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For our anniversary, I asked Daniel to bring home some of that spicy shrimp pasta from the little Italian place downtown. The morning sickness in my first trimester was brutal, and it was the only thing I craved. But he came home late, empty-handed. Said he forgot. I didn’t say a word, but my eyes caught on a single strand of hair on his collar. It was long, brown, and definitely not mine. Later, scrolling through my phone, I saw the pasta I never got. It was on the social media page of his junior colleague, Sophie. Her caption read: “He remembered it’s my favorite. Feeling so spoiled!” 1 In the photo, a handsome hand was gently twirling the pasta onto her fork. The watch on that hand was the one I’d given Daniel for his birthday last year. It wasn’t that he was too busy. It was just that his warmth and attention were being given to someone who, in his eyes, needed them more. I shut my phone, a wave of nausea crashing over me. I grabbed the trash can and threw up until my whole body ached, a bitter taste rising from my throat and seeping deep into my heart. When it was over, I set the can down and laughed. A hollow, empty sound. I was the world’s biggest fool. Back in the bedroom, Daniel was just stepping out of the shower. “Why are you still up?” “Daniel.” He looked at me, his eyes questioning. “We need to talk.” He dropped his towel and sat on the edge of the bed across from me. “About what?” “Who is Sophie to you?” His whole body went rigid. The color drained from his face, and the panic of being caught was written all over him. “What are you talking about?” he snapped, his brow furrowed in a practiced display of indignation. “She’s my junior colleague. You know that.” “Oh, I know,” I said, nodding slowly. “I also know she loves spicy shrimp pasta. And that she has beautiful, long brown hair. And that when she works late, you don’t just bring her food, you stay and eat with her.” The last of his composure shattered. “Were you following me? Did you go through my phone?” He shot to his feet, looming over me. “Anna, when did you become this person?” I didn’t move, just tilted my head back to meet his furious gaze. “I didn’t have to. You’re just not as careful as you think you are.” “So what?” he spat. “So I had dinner with a colleague. Is that such a crime? Are you really going to blow this completely out of proportion?” “We’ve been together for ten years, Anna. You’re pregnant with our child. Can you stop being so paranoid and sensitive for one second?” I stared at him, and suddenly, the fight just drained out of me. It was all so pointless. “Aren’t you exhausted, Daniel?” He froze. “Playing the devoted husband to me and the perfect boyfriend to her. Doesn’t it tear you apart?” “I’m not,” he said automatically, but his voice was weak, stripped of all conviction. “Whatever,” I said, waving a dismissive hand. I couldn’t stand to hear any more of his lies. “What do you want, then?” he asked, his voice laced with irritation. “What do I want?” A bitter laugh escaped my lips. “Daniel, I want a divorce.” 2 Daniel refused to even consider it. His eyes welled up. “Anna, after ten years together? With our baby on the way? How can you be so cruel?” He started listing off memories, from our college days to now, painting a picture of a man who’d made a single, foolish mistake but whose heart had only ever belonged to me. He cried, his voice thick with emotion, as if he were the one who’d been wronged, the victim in all of this. I let him finish, sitting in cold silence. When his tirade finally sputtered out, I asked him one simple question. “Are you done?” He stared at me, dumbfounded. “If you’re done, then get out. I’m tired.” After that night, Daniel transformed. He started coming home on time every single day. He cooked elaborate meals designed for pregnant women, took me on gentle walks, and read to me before bed. He was playing the part of the perfect, doting husband, so attentive and caring it was almost believable. It was as if our confrontation, the pasta, the woman named Sophie, had all been a figment of my imagination. My friends told me to give him another chance. Men make mistakes, they said. The important thing is that he’s trying to come back to you. I didn’t argue. But I knew that some things, once broken, can never be pieced back together. One afternoon, I was walking home from a doctor’s appointment when a white VW Beetle suddenly lost control, swerving straight for me. The impact sent me flying. I landed hard on the pavement. A searing pain ripped through my abdomen, spreading like fire through my entire body. Before I blacked out, I saw crimson blooming beneath my dress, staining the concrete dark. When I woke up, I was in a hospital. Daniel was slumped in a chair beside my bed. His eyes were bloodshot, his jaw covered in dark stubble. He looked wrecked, utterly devastated. “Anna, you’re awake,” he croaked, grabbing my hand. I ignored him, my other hand instinctively going to my now-flat stomach. “The baby…” Tears instantly flooded Daniel’s eyes. “The doctors… they couldn’t save the baby.” My own tears began to fall, silent tracks down my cheeks. The tiny life I had cherished for three months, the one whose faint flutters I had just begun to feel, was gone. Just… gone. “Anna, please don’t,” Daniel pleaded, trying to pull me into an awkward hug. “We’re still young. We can have more children.” I twisted away from his touch. “Who was driving?” I asked, my voice flat. Daniel’s body tensed. “It was… it was Sophie.” His voice dropped to a near whisper. “She’s in the room next door. She was hurt too. She said she mixed up the gas and the brake.” “And?” I stared at him, my heart turning to ice. “What are you going to do about it?” Daniel fell silent. It was a long time before he finally met my gaze, his eyes begging for understanding. “Anna, she didn’t mean to. She just made associate director, her future is so bright. If she gets a criminal record, her life will be ruined.” “Can we please… handle this privately?” I looked at him as if seeing him for the first time. My child was dead. I had almost died. And he was worried about the killer’s career. In that moment, whatever was left of my heart turned to ash. “Daniel, what is your heart made of? Is it stone?” His face went pale, his lips trembling as he struggled for words. “Get out,” I said, closing my eyes. The sight of him made me sick. He didn’t get out. Instead, he did something even more disgusting. He put me under house arrest in my own hospital room, all under the guise of “letting me recover in peace.” He took my phone and forbade anyone from visiting. Every day, he brought my meals himself and watched me take the vitamin pills he brought. But I knew they weren’t vitamins. They were sleeping pills. I played along, tucking the pills under my tongue and spitting them out the moment he was gone. Sophie showed up on the third day. She dismissed the nurse and locked the door behind her. “Daniel said you weren’t feeling well, so I thought I’d come see you,” she said, walking to my bedside with a triumphant smirk. I kept my eyes closed, saying nothing. “You must hate me so much right now, Anna,” she whispered, leaning in close. “But what can you do about it? You lost a baby, but I haven’t lost a thing. Daniel still protects me. He still loves me.” “Did you know,” she continued, her voice a venomous purr, “that when the car hit, Daniel ran to me first? He held me and told me not to be scared. He never even looked at you.” Beneath the blankets, my hands clenched into tight fists. “You probably want to kill me, don’t you?” She chuckled. “Too bad you just took your medicine.” She pulled a long, thin silver pin from her pocket. “I wonder… will this hurt?” She smiled, grabbing my hand and shoving the pin straight through the back of it. The sharp agony jolted me. My eyes flew open, and I stared at her with the cold, dead gaze one reserves for an enemy. She flinched, startled by my sudden movement. In that split second of her surprise, I summoned every ounce of strength I had, raised my free hand, and slapped her hard across the face. Sophie stumbled back, stunned, her hand flying to her cheek. “You’re awake?” she stammered, her eyes wide with disbelief. “You… you hit me?”

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During finals, a hot guy sat there with his chin in his hand, just staring at me. Not only did he smile at me, but he also let me copy his answers. The result? My class rank dropped by one. From third to last, to second to last. I swore eternal enmity against Dylan Thorne from that day on. Until later. He got early acceptance to MIT. And held me in his arms while I did practice problems. Every time I got a question wrong, he would… 1 The school decided to switch things up for finals this year. Instead of seating us by GPA, they drew lots. I had already coordinated signals with my fellow “academic underachievers,” but now I was sitting in the middle of the exam hall, wanting to cry but failing to shed a tear. Front, back, right—I didn’t know a soul. The seat to my left was empty. What were the odds that the empty seat belonged to the school’s top scholar? Slim to none. But just as the bell rang, someone slid into the seat. I looked over. Holy crap. It really was the school’s top scholar. 2 There probably wasn’t a single person at Lincoln High who didn’t know Dylan Thorne. Not just because he was hot, but because he once scored 104 points higher than the second-place student on a monthly exam. The exam started, and I snuck a peek at him. …Well, at the paper under his hand. His fingers were long and slender, and he didn’t write fast, but he was just far enough away that I couldn’t quite see. I squinted, barely making out a stroke. Was that a C or a D? I pouted and looked back at my own test. I could guess my way through English and History, but Math? I was completely hopeless. Subconsciously, I looked at the person next to me again. And crashed right into his starry eyes. 3 Dylan Thorne, the school genius, must be a saint. He was actually willing to let me see his paper. Afraid I couldn’t see, he even nudged his test toward me. I mouthed “Thank you” to him. He saw it, and his eyes curved into a smile. I had never seen anyone look so good when they smiled. I panicked for a second. My gaze fell back to my own paper, and I couldn’t tell if my heart was racing because I successfully cheated… Or because of him. 4 We had two exams in the morning with a thirty-minute break in between. I glanced at the seat next to me. He got up and left, probably to the bathroom. When he came back, he stood in front of my desk. He was tall. He looked down at me, his knuckles rapping on my desk, his shadow enveloping me. “You copied everything from my paper?” I looked up at him, confused. When he looked at people, he was serious and patient. His tone was gentle too. “Hmm?” I nodded obediently. “I just glanced at your test. Did you forget we have Test Form A and Test Form B?” “…” So Form A has horizontal answers, and Form B has vertical answers. I forgot. Every single answer was wrong. 5 For the second exam, my heart was already half cold. What froze the other half was when, swish, a ball of paper landed behind me. I unfolded it halfway, just catching a glimpse of dense answers written inside. Then, the proctor in high heels snatched the paper ball from my hand. “Great job, Lily Wu. Instead of studying, you spend all your time on these crooked ways, huh?” “Get out. Automatic zero.” “…” I was shoved out of the exam hall by the teacher without a chance to explain. Looking back, based on the trajectory of the paper ball, I could only think of one person… Dylan Thorne. It was him. And he was staring blankly at me as I was dragged out. I suspected he didn’t want to help me. His real goal was to sabotage me. 6 I sat on the school stairs. Hugging my legs, sniffing. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to leave; school wasn’t out yet. I stared at the birds in the distance, wishing I could be as free as them. But before my daydream ended, someone appeared next to me. To be fair, Dylan Thorne’s face was indeed handsome. But I still swung my backpack and hit him. “Are you an idiot?” “Do we have a grudge or something?” “…” He let me hit him, standing there openly. After a few hits, I was the one who felt embarrassed. “Sorry. First time cheating, didn’t time it right.” “Wanted to help you, didn’t expect the teacher to intercept it.” His voice was cool, but when he spoke to me, it was light and gentle. “…” So he really tried to pass me answers. Yeah right. “I copied the math multiple-choice wrong, got a zero in this subject, I’m going to be last place again waaaah…” Thinking of this, I couldn’t hold it back anymore, sorrow welling up from my heart. “Why are you crying?” He was clearly startled by me, squatting beside me to wipe my tears with his sleeve. “It’s okay. I’ll be in last place with you, okay?” “…” Men’s words are always lies. 7 Class assignments for the new year were based on last year’s finals. Because one subject was ruthlessly given a zero, I ended up back in my familiar Class 16. The class with the worst grades. However, I stared at the class roster in deep thought. Why was Dylan Thorne in our class? Shouldn’t he be firmly in Class 1? My buddy from last semester, Ben, was still stuck in the same class with me. Seeing me, he stuck his head out and waved. “Let me tell you…” “Dylan Thorne only turned in one math test. The other five were blank.” “…” He really was an idiot. I put down my bag and leaned over to chat with Ben. “But I still hate him.” “Hate? You know him?” I nodded solemnly. “But did you know before he came to our school, he was a delinquent at North High? The kind that fought until the cops came.” Ben told me mysteriously. “…” I kicked the chair in front of me. “What are you talking about? He has such good grades, how could he be a delinquent?” “Tch, believe it or not.” He shook his head and turned back around. 8 As the most chaotic class in Lincoln High, Class 16 had all sorts of characters. Like the school bully, Rex. Rex wasn’t a nickname; this guy really acted like a T-Rex. No one dared to mess with Rex at Lincoln High. He walked around with two lackeys like he owned the place. Since the class was newly formed, seating was currently a free-for-all. I suddenly had a very bad feeling… as Rex slowly sauntered into the classroom, the only empty seat seemed to be next to me. Rex indeed aimed for my spot. “Move over!” He barked at me. I hugged my backpack and shrank into the corner. Even Ben, who turned to talk to me, retreated like a turtle into its shell. “Tsk, why does a girl take up so much space?” Rex’s voice was loud, causing many classmates to look our way. But I was already squeezed against the wall. Just as I was considering finding a new seat, someone knocked on Rex’s desk. I had never seen Dylan Thorne have such a main character moment. Like a god descending. He stood there lazily, backpack slung over one shoulder. Lowering his eyes, tone flat, staring at Rex who was sitting next to me. “You, go sit somewhere else.” “I want to sit here.” …Damn, someone in Lincoln High actually dared to talk to Rex like that. The key was, the bully next to me actually stood up abruptly. Bowing and scraping. “Oh hey, it’s Dylan. I didn’t know you wanted to sit here. If you’re sitting here, I wouldn’t dare take the spot. Here, there’s dust on the desk, let me wipe it for you…” “…” I was dumbfounded. Dylan sat next to me. I continued to hug my backpack and shrink in the corner. Seeing me like this, his eyes curved. “What?” “Scared now?”

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I had found my perfect man—a walking, talking advertisement for a high-value male. Three years into dating, I finally decided to bring him home for the holidays. But the moment I sent a photo of Damon and me to the family group chat, my phone exploded. “Sister, I know you’re desperate for a man, but are you really scraping the bottom of the barrel like this?” “Are you trying to get out of your blind dates by deliberately finding a scrub to piss Mom off?” I stared, stunned, at my boyfriend standing next to me. He was six-foot-one, with a washboard of eight-pack abs, dressed in a bespoke suit that cost more than my annual salary, and possessed the kind of face that belonged on a magazine cover—think Henry Cavill-level of chiseled perfection. Then, a text from my father arrived, forwarding the photo I’d just sent: “Jade, are you blind? You’ve picked a short, broke, loser for a boyfriend?” I looked at the man in the photo he sent—old, balding, with a beer belly, and looking barely five-foot-three. He was wearing faded, ragged clothes, his expression sleazy as he clutched me to his side. But the worst part? The photo showed no evidence of AI manipulation. No clear Photoshop artifacts. It looked sickeningly real. I raised my head to Damon, who still looked every bit the Adonis I knew. Frantic, I asked friends and strangers nearby to look at him. Every single person saw the same thing my family did: a short, broke, loser. The shock was a lightning strike. I started questioning everything, my own sanity unraveling. Gradually, I descended into a nervous breakdown, eventually committed to a psychiatric facility, where another patient accidentally killed me. When I opened my eyes again, I was back—right at the moment I was about to announce my boyfriend to my family. 1 My parents have always favored my sister, Brooke. Part of me suspected they were simply hoping I’d dump Damon so Brooke could have him. This time, I didn’t send a couple’s photo to the family chat. Instead, I sent Damon’s solo picture, along with a carefully crafted lie. “This is my friend Sasha’s new boyfriend. What do you guys think of him?” Their replies were unsettlingly identical to the last time. “Why would Sasha date a short, broke guy? Is she having some kind of crisis?” “Jade, as her friend, you need to talk some sense into her. Tell her she can do so much better.” “Sister, you have to tell Sasha to break up with him! That’s clearly a toad trying to bag a princess!” I was speechless. Last time, they had a motive: they thought Damon was my boyfriend. But this time, they had no reason to lie about my best friend’s fictional beau. While I was still reeling, my mother’s text popped up. “Didn’t you say you had a boyfriend? It’s the holidays soon, shouldn’t you bring him home to meet your mother?” Dad chimed in: “Exactly! Our little family of four should become a family of five. You’re not getting any younger, Jade.” “Sister, when are you bringing your fiancé home? Don’t you dare follow Sasha’s bad example!” Brooke added. My hand tightened around my phone, my palm slick with cold sweat. I could only imagine the expressions of disgust and contempt that would greet us if I brought Damon home. Damon’s tall, muscular frame came up behind me. He wrapped his arms around me, burying his face in the crook of my neck, a low, playful plea in his voice. “Jade, what did your family say? You are going to take me to meet your folks for Christmas, right?” I looked at his perfect profile, the sunlight hitting him like a spotlight on a Greek statue. How could this man possibly be the short, broke scrub my family described? The sheer height difference… the chiseled jawline… the quality of his tailored clothing… every detail screamed High-Value Male. I decided to play it safe this time. I didn’t immediately agree. “O-of course, I’ll take you to meet them. But first, you have to do me a small favor.” He chuckled, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Anything but small, baby. You know I’d walk through fire for you.” I put my plan into action. “Damon, would you mind going to the park with Sasha later and taking a few photos together?” Damon’s face instantly fell, a look of hurt washing over him. “Jade Miller, are you trying to push your man onto your friend?” I quickly reassured him, lying that I’d lost a dare and that it was a silly request from Sasha. “Just three photos in the park, and you’re off the hook. No physical contact required.” Seeing my earnest, pleading expression, Damon finally softened. “Only this once.” I let out the breath I’d been holding and called Sasha. “Sasha, are you free? I just need you to take three pictures with Damon in the park.” To my shock, Sasha’s rejection was venomous. “Are you serious? You want me to take pictures with that short loser of yours? You might as well just kill me now!” If my family was gaslighting me, fine, but why was my best friend saying the exact same thing? Sasha had met Damon several times before. Why the sudden, violent rejection now? “Jade, I wanted to tell you three years ago. But you were so clearly obsessed, I didn’t want you to do anything stupid.” “You’re such a hopeless romantic. How could you treat that thing like a treasure? I swear, I smelled his stale, old-man scent and wanted to vomit. How have you tolerated him for three years?” My heart hammered in my chest. Was I really that delusional? I always thought his scent—a mix of expensive cologne and something subtly fresh, like a hint of orange zest—was intoxicating… 2 I still refused to believe it. Taking a deep breath, I decided to use a bribe. “If you agree to this, I’ll buy you the new season’s LV shoulder bag.” “Deal. And don’t ask again.” After she hung up, the absurdity of the situation gnawed at me. Even if I used a heavy filter, the discrepancy couldn’t be this huge. Three days later, the photos Sasha sent shattered my tenuous hold on reality. The man in the pictures was the same one my father had sent me in the last life—the balding, low-rent scrub. I stared at the images on my phone. Again, no signs of digital alteration. Just then, Damon walked in the door. I rushed to him. “Damon, did you save the photos from today’s shoot?” “Of course, baby. Wouldn’t want you nagging me for them later.” He handed me his phone. The photos on his screen showed him—the towering, god-tier Damon Kincaid—standing next to Sasha. How? What was going wrong? I took his phone onto the balcony, comparing the two sets of pictures side-by-side. The same park, the same time, the same pose, only the person with Sasha was different. The remaining two pictures yielded the same disturbing result. Damon joined me on the balcony, pulling me into a hug. He leaned down, a pout on his face. “Baby, I did what you asked. Why do you still look upset?” The scent from him—that clean, intoxicating orange zest—was still there, still mesmerizing. But the thought that the man holding me right now could be that thing sent a wave of icy nausea through me. “What? No, no way. I’m just… I’m jealous. That’s why I look unhappy.” Hearing this, Damon instantly brightened. “I completed your mission. Now, you have to kiss me.” I looked at his perfect, angelic face, but the image of the other man flashed through my mind, killing my appetite. I gently pushed him away, offering a forced, nervous smile. “A kiss? That’s nothing. I’ll cook you dinner tonight as a reward.” Damon didn’t seem to notice my unusual behavior. He simply pecked me on the cheek and said, “Sounds perfect.” I went to the kitchen and sent the photo of Damon and Sasha (the one Sasha sent me) to the family chat. “Is this the same man you saw last time?” The replies were immediate. “Has Sasha still not broken up with him? They are a total mismatch! Sasha is five-foot-five; she’s practically taller than him in heels.” “Jade, is your friend brainwashed? What does he even have going for him?” “Sister, look at his clothes! He smells like a Goodwill store. He’s probably wearing his dad’s hand-me-downs!” Just in case I wasn’t convinced, Dad posted a solo photo of the man. “See? This is the exact same guy you posted before, confirmed.” I zoomed in on the solo picture. Same time, same background, same pose. Different person. Why did my photos, and the photos they saw, not match? Damon, wondering why I hadn’t emerged, knocked on the kitchen door. “Jade, why are you staring into space in the kitchen? Want me to take over cooking?” “No, no, I’m almost done. Just wait for me at the table.” I quickly finished two dishes and carried them over. As Damon took his seat, my gaze fell on the distinct butterfly birthmark visible just above his collar. It was Damon’s unique mark. I frantically pulled out Sasha’s photo and the family chat photo for comparison. I froze. The man in the pictures, the scrub, had the exact same butterfly birthmark on his neck. 3 I picked at my food, my mind racing. I watched Damon across the table, then finally spoke, my voice barely a whisper. “Damon… I have a question. Please promise me you won’t get mad.” He turned, smiling his gentle, perfect smile. “I promise. Ask me anything.” “Uh… have people in your past ever commented on your looks?” He paused for a beat. My heart sank. Had I hit a nerve? Did everyone secretly think he was ugly? The next moment, he laughed, taking my hand and guiding it to touch his cheek. “Everyone has always told me I’m handsome. I’ve been voted ‘Campus Adonis’ since high school.” He pulled out his phone, scrolling to photos from his college years. For four years straight, his photo was pinned to the ‘Hottest Guys’ wall, winning the voting contest by a landslide. Seeing my bewildered expression, he playfully flicked my forehead. “What is it? Can’t stand the fact that your husband is naturally gorgeous?” “I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours. You didn’t question me when we first started dating, but now, right before meeting your parents, you’re having doubts. Are you trying to find an excuse to break up with me?” Damon looked at me with mock seriousness. I just pushed my questions down, forcing a smile. I was distracted the rest of the meal, my eyes darting to Damon, searching for any anomaly. I found nothing. Later, lying in bed, I couldn’t stop spiraling. I watched Damon sleeping peacefully beside me, and a thought struck me. Fine, maybe love was blinding, but how could I be wrong about his height? Why did everyone else see him as barely five-foot-three, when I knew for a fact he was six-foot-one? I carefully slid out of bed, making sure not to wake Damon. I checked his shoes by the door. No platform insoles. No obvious lifts. Still not satisfied, I crept to the drawer, pulled out a measuring tape, and tiptoed back onto the bed to measure his height. A ruler wouldn’t lie, even if my eyes did. But Damon kept tossing and turning exactly when I tried to stretch the tape measure, thwarting my attempts. I pulled the tape measure back and stared at his stomach. The man in the picture had a beer belly. Damon had eight-pack abs. Could the abs be faked? Was it some kind of prosthetic muscle suit? I had seen videos on men faking abs. Slowly, tentatively, my hand reached out to touch his taut stomach. Just as my fingers made contact, he seized my hand. Damon’s eyes opened, full of sleepy, teasing laughter. “My little baby can’t sleep? Are you looking for a late-night show, huh?” I instantly broke out in a cold sweat. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice the measuring tape I had just shoved under my pillow. “N-no. I just thought you might be cold. Don’t want you catching a chill… It’s late. Let’s sleep.” I quickly dove back under the covers and closed my eyes, feigning sleep. Damon didn’t let up. He rolled over, pinning me beneath him, his warm lips covering mine. “Baby, the fire you just stoked isn’t going to be easy to put out.” I didn’t find any answers that night, but I was certainly worn out by the morning. I had lost the battle and the war. Damon looked completely satisfied, while I was a wreck. “Baby, when are you taking me to meet your folks?” “You’re so cute, I want to lock you up and keep you all to myself, away from the world.” Damon’s comment made me check my phone. The date I’d promised my family for the big introduction was tomorrow. 4 I thought about how good Damon had been to me over the past three years—gentle, attentive, and incredibly generous. Even if he was short and a scrub, I was resigned to it. But I couldn’t accept him being poor. He’d spent at least six figures on me over the years. That couldn’t be fake. “Tomorrow. Are you happy now?” Damon’s eyes sparkled. He kissed me excitedly. “Why didn’t you say so sooner? I haven’t had time to buy your parents presents.” “Jade, get up! We need to go pick out gifts.” I rolled my eyes playfully at him, but didn’t bother pointing out who had kept me up all night. Damon ignored my glare and pulled out a suit from his walk-in closet—his globally customized, one-of-a-kind designer suit. “Jade, can I wear this to meet your parents tomorrow?” I felt a pang of unease. Last time, my parents had looked at this very suit with such disgust they were practically spitting. But to me, Damon looked like a human clothes rack; everything looked incredible on him, especially this suit, custom-made to showcase his perfect physique. After we tidied up, Damon called ahead to shut down a section of a high-end mall and drove us there in his custom-order Maybach. At the jewelry store, the attendant instantly bowed, addressing Damon respectfully. “Sir, how may I help you?” “I need a substantial amount of investment gold—say, a few pounds. And select the most expensive, tasteful gold bracelet and earrings for the matriarch.” The attendant’s smile was electric. I nudged Damon. “Isn’t that too much? That’s incredibly expensive.” “They’re my future in-laws, baby. Nothing is too much. What’s mine is yours, and theirs is yours too.” Damon also picked out a classic Patek Philippe watch for my father and purchased every single new-release LV bag for my sister. This man couldn’t be poor. I took photos of all the gifts he bought and sent them to Sasha. Her reply was a skeptical warning: “Jade, watch out for a pig-butchering scam! These flashy guys often take out massive loans to buy you extravagant gifts, making you believe they’re rich, only to leave you saddled with the debt. They work with shady loan sharks for a high commission.” “These men are just fronts, honey. Don’t be so naive.” I showed her photos of Damon’s Maybach and our penthouse apartment. “Those can all be rented. Don’t be an idiot and fall for it.” My excitement instantly flatlined, replaced by a cold dread. The next day, I brought Damon home with a knot of anxiety in my stomach. My family’s expressions shifted from initial shock to barely concealed disdain to forced pleasantries. Dad took the gifts from Damon. “You must be Jade’s boyfriend. You really shouldn’t have spent so much. Come, sit and eat.” Mom pulled me aside immediately. “You wasted our time pretending that scrub was your friend’s boyfriend, didn’t you? You were ashamed to admit it was yours!” Brooke immediately covered her nose and sat as far away from Damon as possible, as if he were a biohazard. The dinner was painfully awkward. As Damon and I left, I happened to glance back. I saw all three of them—Dad, Mom, and Brooke—simultaneously flash a subtle hand gesture. A specific, brief movement of their fingers. I didn’t think much of it then. But the moment we got home, the group chat blew up. “Jade, look at what he brought! Fake gold, a fake watch, a knock-off bag! Does he think we’re fools? The whole lot wouldn’t cost a hundred dollars! The nerve of that man to be so pretentious!” “I’m telling you this now, Jade. If you don’t break up with him, I’m cutting you off.” “Sister, you have no idea how bad he stunk at the dinner table. I almost threw up.” I scoffed, leaning against Damon, and typed out my reply: “Stop the act. I know exactly why you all insist my boyfriend is a short, broke scrub.”

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The year I took my SATs, I unfortunately didn’t get into my dream college and married the reformed bad boy who had been chasing me. We lived a frugal but happy life. Meanwhile, my best friend married the mysterious heir to the Sterling empire in Hong Kong and was spoiled like a princess. She casually said, “The boss is so mean, I don’t want to work anymore,” and the next day, her company declared bankruptcy. While I was haggling with a vendor over a few cents for groceries, my best friend received a multi-million dollar seaside villa because her husband missed sending her birthday wishes at exactly midnight. Their fairy-tale love story went viral online. Everyone envied my best friend’s good fortune. I was no exception, but I wasn’t jealous. Until the tenth time Liam and I were supposed to get our marriage license, he disappeared for a day again because of his “enemies.” At the same time, my best friend updated her Instagram. “He said the debt he owed her has been paid off. From now on, I am the only one he loves.” In the photo, she was holding hands with the Sterling heir. And on the man’s index finger was the wedding ring I had designed myself. 1 “Ma’am, give me a discount, look at how much I bought from you!” “Chloe, you look decent enough, but every time you haggle over these few cents. Be careful your man doesn’t want you one day.” A flash of embarrassment crossed my eyes. I grabbed a few scallions and waved my hand dismissively: “Forget it, forget it, just give me these scallions, keep the change.” Before I walked far, I heard a curse from behind: “Hope you die poor. No money but dressed so fancy, don’t know where you stole it from.” Damn hag, she was the one short-changing me. I was about to argue back when I suddenly remembered something, and the corners of my lips curled up involuntarily. Forget it, today is the day Liam and I get our marriage license. I won’t stoop to her level. I’m so magnanimous. The next second, the corners of my mouth drooped. “Chloe, I might be late. Let’s get the license another day!” Liam rambled on a lot. He said he ran into his old enemies on his way back and needed to hide for a few days. He also told me to take good care of myself and that he would cook something delicious for me when he returned. Finally, his voice was blown away by the wind. I couldn’t hear anything, just felt very tired. Disappointment, suppressed countless times, now burst like a dam, drowning me instantly. For a moment, my hands and feet were cold, and I couldn’t breathe. “Chloe, are you listening to me?” Sensing something wrong, Liam’s slightly worried voice came through the receiver. My fingers gripping the phone tightened instantly, voice revealing fatigue: “Liam, this is the tenth time you’ve stood me up because of your enemies.” “I’m sorry… Chloe, it’s all my fault for being useless, unable to give you a stable life. I’m really trash.” “I promise, I’ll definitely come back today.” Before I could speak, the call hung up. At the same time, a notification from Instagram popped up: “The user you follow, Fish_SevenSeconds, has updated~” Fish_SevenSeconds is my best friend Sarah, an internet celebrity with millions of followers. We agreed that whenever she updated her Instagram, I would be the first to like it, declaring my status as the chief bestie. I clicked on the latest post. Sarah held a marriage certificate, smiling like a flower, snuggling in a man’s arms, with the luxurious floor-to-ceiling window overlooking Victoria Harbour’s night view in the background. The caption read: “My puppy and I don’t owe that woman anything anymore. From now on, he is only my puppy. Love you^0^~” Netizens in the comments section were going crazy. “Ahhh, lovers finally get married. The CP I ship is real.” “Really so sweet. I’ve gone through all of sister’s works. After watching, I believe in love again. The Sterling heir really spoils sister so much!” “Must be because that bad woman caused trouble in between, they should have been together earlier.” I was about to like the comment when my gaze was suddenly attracted by the man in the photo. To be precise, attracted by his hand. Amidst the noise, my world suddenly went silent. Impossible… must be my eyes playing tricks on me. I trembled, zooming in on the photo, zooming in again, until I saw the tiny Little Prince and WY engraving on the ring. My blood froze, limbs cold to the bone. A guess spread in my heart. This couple ring with the Little Prince and the Rose was designed by me personally because when Liam proposed, he said to me: “Chloe, there are many roses, but I only want you.” So, I specifically found someone to design this ring. Unique in the world. Lost in thought, I accidentally liked Sarah’s post. By the time I realized, it was too late to cancel. The next second, Sarah’s call came in: “Chloe, you finally remembered me, your chief bestie.” “My boyfriend… oh no, should call him husband now, he finally agreed to get the license with me. I am now the rightful young mistress of the Sterling family.” I forced a smile, voice dry: “Congratulations, wish fulfilled!” “Chloe, what’s wrong? Did that brat Liam hurt you again? I’ll come over immediately to…” I interrupted her: “No, I just caught a cold, voice is a bit hoarse.” Hearing this, Sarah didn’t say anything more, sharing her fun stories with the Sterling heir as usual. She said last week, the heir heard her say the elevator malfunctioned, worried she was afraid of the dark, dropped a contract worth tens of millions without thinking to pick her up downstairs. He remembered Sarah’s period every month, preparing brown sugar water and heating pads in the car in advance. Sarah said the most touching thing the Sterling heir did was immediately arranging the best hospital and experts when her mother fell ill. Suddenly she remembered something and said happily: “Heard from Liam that you guys also plan to get the license today. Lucky for him.” “I’ll come over tonight, let’s gather properly, not going home until drunk.” I was about to say no need, but the call had already hung up. I stood dazed on the street, watching people come and go, not knowing where to go. My heart seemed to have opened a hole, cold wind pouring in, hurting and trembling. The pedestrian light turned red to green, green to red. I gathered my mood, preparing to cross the crosswalk, when a motorcycle sped past me. Unable to dodge in time, I was splashed with dirty water. I froze in place, my white dress instantly covered in stains, dirty water dripping from my face and hair, looking miserable. The new dress bought for getting the license was now dirty, spotted, just like my love with Liam. “Crazy! Don’t look where you’re going, should’ve hit you to death.” I couldn’t hold it back anymore, aggrieved like a child, crying loudly. Called a pauper for a few scallions. Crossing the street normally, they call me crazy. I looked up at the two unapologetic people, wiped the dirty water and tears from my face, and roared back recklessly. “F*** your mother! Rushing to reincarnate? Driving a broken motorcycle think you’re so cool?” Voice crying but exceptionally fierce, with a momentum of fish dying and net breaking. “Damn hag, you…” He seemed to want to retort, but his momentum clearly weakened. “You what you! Hit me to death if you have the guts!” The two were scolded by me bloody, muttered a few words, and rode away dejectedly. Today is really terrible. 2 Returning home, I didn’t change clothes but nested in the sofa unusually calmly, scrolling through Sarah’s Instagram. I’ve known Sarah for ten years. She had a dream of being an internet celebrity since she was young, and said she would take me to enjoy life when she made money. Her works went from a few likes initially to millions of likes now, a proper big influencer. Scrolling, I accidentally scrolled to our high school photos. In the photo, we smiled greenly. Although Liam held my hand, his gaze fell on Sarah who was making a funny face, eyes full of doting. My heart suddenly stung. I suddenly felt so silly, not seeing through the affection in their eyes. Only thought that was the look a brother had for a sister. Thought the three of us could go to college together. Didn’t expect on the day the SAT results came out, I, who usually ranked first in the grade, unexpectedly failed. Learning this, Sarah cried with red eyes, pulling me to the education bureau to verify. I refused. The scores were correct. I fell asleep during the English and Math exams. After that, Sarah went to the best university in the province and met her true love—the Sterling heir. And I, because I didn’t get into college, my mom planned to marry me to the village idiot for an $8000 bride price. In my most desperate moment. It was Liam who brought $100,000 and saved me from that cannibalistic village. Remembering then, my mom counting the money with saliva-stained fingers over and over again, afraid of missing a cent. She didn’t even cast a glance at me lying on the ground, dying. Since then, Liam and I began a wandering life. He was also good to me as promised in his confession. Every time I got angry, no matter whose fault, he bowed his head first. When I craved sweets at midnight, he would drive that broken motorcycle to buy my favorite Osmanthus cake. The fly in the ointment was that we never got the license. Every time we tried, we encountered some resistance. Either stormy weather, or Liam being hunted by enemies. He said that $100,000 was borrowed from loan sharks, that’s why those people chased him relentlessly. Every time this happened, I felt guilty. If not for me, he should have had a not brilliant but stable life. Guilt drove me to double my kindness to Liam. I continued scrolling down. Scrolled to the official announcement photo of Sarah and the Sterling heir. On September 15th, she called me, voice choking: “Chloe, the person I like finally confessed to me.” I smiled and blessed her, sincerely. Hearing this, she cried even louder. “But he has a woman he’s with in his heart. He said he can only be with me openly after paying back what he owes her… Chloe, what should I do?” Hearing this, I was angry, feeling the Sterling heir wasn’t worthy of my best friend. Also scolded the woman standing between them. Scolding and scolding, Sarah finally laughed, saying meaningfully: “Chloe, you are so silly!” “But, I think he really loves me, otherwise he wouldn’t abandon that woman and take a ten-hour flight to find me.” I was only concerned with fighting for her injustice, not hearing the deep meaning in her words. Actually that day was also the second anniversary of me and Liam being together, but he missed the appointment. He said he met a suitable job and wanted to try, I agreed. Everything had traces, but I was stupid and didn’t know. Maybe, I wanted to be loved so much that I automatically ignored those coincidences. Sarah often posted daily life with the Sterling heir. But the man didn’t show his face. Occasionally revealing collarbone, chin, and eyes. Slowly, I pieced together a familiar face. I searched for news about the Sterling heir again. He was very mysterious, only found out he was the young master of the Sterling family, named Liam Sterling (Wen Yan). So it was Wen Yan (Liam), not Wen Yan (Liam – homophone intended for confusion/reveal). All evidence pointed to one point. My bad boy boyfriend is the renowned Sterling heir in Hong Kong circles. I suddenly laughed. Turns out, I am the clown. I took out the cigarettes hidden in the shoe box. Probably haven’t smoked for a long time, choked me to tears. Liam doesn’t like girls who smoke. I don’t either. But the pressure of life is too great, crushing me breathless. I would occasionally smoke one secretly to get a moment of comfort. Thinking of the scenes happening today… The beautiful memories of the past all turned into bubbles. Actually, I am not a difficult person. As long as Liam says “I don’t like you anymore,” I can disappear far away. Thinking of this, I dialed that number. “Mr. White, does your sister still need my bone marrow?” I asked nervously. “Yes.” “Okay, then can you agree to one more condition?” “Sure!” A chuckle on the other side, voice exceptionally gentle. “Send me abroad to study.” “Okay!” 3 When Liam came back, the tears on my face had long been carried away by the wind. Only the smell of smoke in the room remained, unable to be blown away. He frowned, swept away the countless cigarette butts on the floor. Then, raised his hand to extinguish the cigarette at my fingertips. He said nothing, just pulled me into his arms. I lifted my eyelids, looking at the swaying light overhead, softly said: “Liam, the light at home needs changing!” He just gave a faint hmm. This was something I mentioned to him last week, but he forgot. But, what’s broken is more than just the light. Recently, he’s always busy. Don’t know what he’s busy with. We haven’t hugged so intimately for a long time. I withdrew from his embrace, turned and looked up at him. Liam had deep brows and eyes, a high nose bridge. Although wearing a washed-white denim jacket, it still couldn’t hide the nobility emanating from his bones. Clearly the same face, but my heart couldn’t stir a single ripple. “What, still angry with me?” He chuckled low, voice carrying seductive frivolity. Seeing I didn’t speak, he leaned down, burying his head in my neck, hot breath sprinkling on my skin, very itchy. I pushed him away, calmly said: “Liam, dirty!” Hearing this, the smile on his lips froze, brows slightly furrowed, panic flashing in his eyes. Gaze falling on my white dress stained with dirty water, inexplicably relieved. “Okay, hubby will wash it clean for you, okay?” His voice carried doting, fingertips crossing my hair. I opened my mouth, wanted to explain, but ultimately said nothing. Except for not having that certificate. Liam was indeed very good to me. He raised me like a daughter, wishing to stuff all the love I lacked into me. Even my underwear was hand-washed by him, then ironed flat bit by bit. Even if he didn’t like spicy food, he would accompany me to eat extra spicy hot pot for my sake. I can’t imagine how he managed to ride a broken motorcycle during the day taking me to eat street food, and drive a Maybach at night taking Sarah for a ride on a luxury cruise. Maybe, what wealthy families lack least is actors. 4 When Sarah arrived, Liam was hanging my panties. Seeing her carrying a few cans of beer, Liam’s face instantly turned cold. “Our Chloe is allergic to alcohol, help yourself Sarah!” “Bullsh*t, Chloe can drink a thousand cups without getting drunk. We worked part-time in a bar together back then. I even saved your Chloe once. Logically, you should call me little mother-in-law.” Turns out, she still remembers. Chloe and Sarah loved money, the kind of love that is very deep. Sometimes, I feel we are like the heroines in tragic novels. Sarah had a gambling dad, paralyzed mom, and a glory-seeking brother. I was purely poor, with a mom who didn’t love me. Similar fates made us best friends who talked about everything. One day, she called me crying, asking me to save her at the bar. I went without thinking. Facing a group of fierce men, although scared, she stood in front of me without hesitation, shouting with a stiff neck: “I’ve called the police, release me and my friend immediately.” Don’t know if scared or what, the bar owner said as long as one of us drank a bottle of white liquor, he would let us go. That day, she almost drank herself to death at the table. It was such a person, who regarded me as her best friend, who betrayed me. Thinking of her frequently posting bed photos with Liam. A wave of nausea rose in my stomach. Why, why her! 5 Sarah didn’t care, bumped Liam away, ran excitedly in front of me. “Chloe, tonight we won’t go home until drunk!” Liam wanted to come over to stop, I shook my head at him. He frowned tight, mouthing silently: “Drink less, today is your period.” My heart twitched violently, suffocating pain, eyes unconsciously reddened. I would rather he be fake, but he showed a trace of sincerity. Tonight, Sarah got very drunk, mumbling about agreements made in the past. “Chloe, didn’t we agree to marry two brothers? This way, we will never be separated. Go shopping together during the day, lie in bed gossiping about evil mother-in-law at night.” I looked at her, bitterness rising in my heart. Yes! But didn’t we marry the same person? Cup after cup of wine down, Sarah was long unconscious. She slept soundly on my lap drunkenly, face flushed, very cute. I couldn’t help reaching out, fingertips crossing her face, and slender white neck. Just a little force, I could strangle her. Why, the people who betrayed me are you and him. They, clearly are the two people I love most.

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My twin brother, Jason, and I have been rivals since we were born. Growing up, we fought over everything. 50/50 was non-negotiable. If he had it, I had to have it too. Otherwise, chaos. Until Jason married into the wealthy Jiang family. He flaunted his success in front of me. That very night, I agreed to an arranged marriage with the paralyzed heir of the powerful Sterling family. I didn’t care who he was. As long as I could one-up my brother. Just as I was feeling triumphant, a barrage of comments floated across my vision: “Ever since the Sterling heir became paralyzed, all the socialites avoided him like the plague. Bro really thought his life was over and was ready to end it all at home.” “Didn’t expect someone to come knocking and beg for marriage.” “And the marriage partner is his own crush.” “Now, not only does he not want to die, but he’s also actively posting on social media asking for wedding outfit advice. He’s practically fainting from happiness.” “Sigh, but it’s a bit pitiful. He really thinks the heroine likes him, but she’s just doing it to compete with her brother.” Me: “?”

The day Mom and Dad died, our family empire crumbled, leaving my brother and me buried under a mountain of debt. To chip away at the millions, he took a gig testing out moldy, condemned properties for shady landlords, and I became a background extra—the resident corpse—on low-budget film sets. Five years of relentless hustling, never a day off, and the balance still haunted us. By the end of the year, the debt was down to the last $130,000. Desperate, I signed up for a clinical drug trial. I walked away with the cash, clutching the duffel bag full of bills, euphoric. I couldn’t wait to show Graham. Instead, I found him on the phone, a frown furrowing his brow. “Mom, Dad, Elle is doing really well. You two just enjoy your time overseas.” “She’s not a spender anymore. The punishment can probably end next year.” My parents weren’t dead. Our family hadn’t gone broke. The last five years of crushing hardship—the exhaustion, the hunger, the humiliation—it was all a calculated performance, a punishment for my supposed habit of spending too much money. The smile froze on my face. My stomach twisted into a violent knot, and a mouthful of bright, shocking blood erupted from my lips. … 1 “Just so we’re clear, if you sign this contract, we are not responsible for any adverse reactions.” That was the last thing the Clinical Trial Coordinator had told me. He made me initial the clause several times: the contract was legally binding. After five hours of observation following the dose, I’d be paid, and even if I died the next day, there would be no recourse. Back then, all I could think about was handing the final payment to my brother so we could have one normal New Year. I signed without hesitation. Now… I stared at the heavy duffel bag of cash, the weight suddenly feeling bitterly ironic. I lifted my sleeve and wiped the blood from my mouth. Pushing the apartment door open, I stepped inside. Graham quickly hung up his phone. He turned, and his eyes immediately fixated on the stain on my shirt. “What happened?!” His face went white. He was by my side in two steps, his hands gripping my shoulders, frantically checking me for injury. I pushed his hands away, my voice flat and even. “It’s just prop blood from the set.” “Oh. Right. That’s good. I thought you were hurt.” He let out a shaky breath of relief. Then his gaze fell on the bag of money on the floor, and his eyes narrowed instantly. “Where did this come from?” he demanded. “Elle, you didn’t do something stupid, did you? You didn’t steal it?” My heart plummeted. I didn’t know this man at all. Steal it? Is that what he truly thought of me? I balled my fists, taking a moment before answering softly. “The director distributed bonuses. End of the year, a little holiday welfare.” He frowned, still suspicious. “A cash bonus? That big?” “Do you want it or not?” I snapped, the irritation finally bubbling up. “You said we only had $130,000 left. This is exactly that. If you don’t want it, I can take it back to them.” He was silent for a long moment, but he finally reached for the bag. “I’ll transfer it tomorrow.” He quickly changed the subject. “What do you want for dinner? I’ll cook.” I let my gaze drift around the cramped studio apartment. It was thirty square meters, and you could see everything from the doorway: a wardrobe, a folding bed, and a tiny bathroom. There was no kitchen. He chopped vegetables on the coffee table. The electric skillet, bought for fifty bucks, was five years old, its power cord patched twice with black electrical tape. I suddenly heard myself asking, “Graham. Don’t you ever get tired of this?” He smiled, turning back to me. “Not really. My job is pretty easy, I mostly just lie there. It’s you, Elle. You’re the one who must be exhausted after all these years.” What I really meant was: Aren’t you tired of pretending? Our family had a fortune worth billions. We could have lived in complete freedom. But he was forcing this existence on me, all for a supposed punishment. Didn’t it drain him? Of course, he hadn’t understood. I decided to be more direct. I looked at him intently. “Graham, do you really think I’m a big spender?” 2 I still couldn’t figure out what exactly my crime had been. Yes, my family was ridiculously wealthy, but I was never obsessed with luxury. My clothes and jewelry were all moderately priced. In the high-society circles of Newport Beach, I was practically an anomaly. Graham’s face stiffened. “Why would you ask that? You’re much better now.” “Now? What about before?” I pressed him. He frowned. “When Mom and Dad were still here, you genuinely didn’t understand frugality. They came from nothing, bootstrapped their way up. They, and I, always had to be mindful of money. But you? You’d pester them for an expensive designer bag or a $10,000 birthday gift. What do you call that?” I took two agitated steps forward. “We’re worth billions! Is a $1,500 smartphone really going to bankrupt us? What’s the point of making all that money if we can’t spend it?” His face hardened. “Listen to yourself. It’s a phone, Elle. Any phone works. You were vain, always trying to keep up with those other spoiled debutantes, constantly demanding things. You’ve been fine these last five years with nothing, haven’t you?” I stared at him, my blood running cold. In his mind, these five years had been fine? I spent my days acting dead—begging directors to let me roll around in the mud or a freezing drainage ditch for an extra two hundred dollars. I’d lie motionless for ten hours at a stretch, rain or shine. My old rival, Vivianna—Vivi—used my misfortune to torment me, bullying me at every opportunity, and I couldn’t fight back. I signed away my body for a sketchy clinical trial, and I still didn’t know what was happening to my health. Was that a fine life? The sharp, twisting pain returned to my stomach. I was vaguely reminded of Vivi’s taunt: “You idiot. You brought all this on yourself.” “I’m going to follow you, Elle. Whatever set you’re on, I’ll be there. My parents can buy me a spot. You’ll be miserable for the next five years!” I shuddered, my skin crawling with a sudden realization. Five years. Why specifically five years? Did Vivi know the truth, too? An intuition, cold and sharp, told me that Graham and my parents were hiding something even bigger. I clenched my fists, forcing down the urge to scream the questions at him. I nodded obediently. “You’re right. I’ll change.” Graham set down the knife, relief flooding his face. He reached out and gently stroked my head. “That’s my sister. Good. Now, you eat. I have to go to work.” I nodded again. After a quiet dinner, Graham left for his ‘shift.’ I put on my mask and cap and slipped out to follow him. He walked out of the cramped housing block and waited by the curb, dialing a number. Within five minutes, a black Maybach pulled up. I watched his long legs disappear into the luxury sedan. I quickly flagged a taxi and followed. Thirty minutes later, he entered an exclusive, high-end steakhouse. I gave it five minutes and walked in, seating myself in a secluded booth directly behind his table. My heart was pounding, and I didn’t dare look up. I only knew who he was meeting when I heard her voice. “Graham, I did exactly what you asked. I’ve been giving Elle a hard time, and she’s behaved so well lately!” It was Vivianna. 3 “Good,” Graham replied, his voice flat, completely devoid of the struggling-debtor persona. “Only when Elle suffers on the outside will she realize how difficult it is to earn money.” “I’ll make sure your family’s businesses get some extra attention, as promised. We can’t let Elle know the truth just yet. I’ll tell Mom and Dad everything when they get back after the New Year.” My breath caught in my throat. My heart threatened to stop. A waiter approached, asking for my order, and I couldn’t speak. My hand trembled as I pointed vaguely at the menu, shaking my head to signal him to leave immediately before Graham saw me. Vivi’s voice was sickeningly sweet. “Graham, you told Elle you were testing haunted houses, but you have to drive all the way back to your little studio apartment every night. Aren’t you exhausted?” “Why didn’t you just go overseas with your parents?” A fresh wave of shock hit me. The haunted house lie was a cover. He came home every single night. The suffering of the last five years—was it all mine alone? Graham sighed. “Elle is my sister. I couldn’t leave her completely alone in the country. Besides, the company might have moved overseas for a while, but it’s eventually coming back.” He sounded vaguely wistful. “The five-year punishment we set seems to have flown by, doesn’t it?” Flown by? A bitter laugh caught in my throat. Every single day of those five years had been a grinding torture. Playing dead wasn’t easy, especially when Vivi—at Graham’s subtle instruction, I now realized—made sure I was always scheduled for the dirtiest, most grueling scenes. I was often lying still for hours in the cold, developing chronic chills and a relentless cycle of illness and exhaustion. And to them, it was just a punishment. A cruel, calculated game. “Vivi, I know you’ve been through a lot, too. This is for you.” Their conversation continued. Graham slid a delicate gift box across the table. Vivi opened it and gasped. “A diamond necklace! It’s gorgeous!” My heart plunged into a cold, dark abyss. That necklace. It was the exact one I had begged my parents for five years ago. They had refused, claiming it was too extravagant. I eventually forgot about it. Now I knew. That small, trivial request had been the catalyst for five years of hell. Why? We had billions. Why did asking for one necklace warrant five years of deliberate emotional and physical cruelty? Why was Vivi, whose family wasn’t nearly as wealthy as ours, getting the item I was denied? Was I really that spoiled? That disobedient? I had always been the quiet, compliant child. Why did I have to endure this? My emotions burst. I couldn’t hold it back any longer. BANG! I slammed my hands on the table and stood up. The entire restaurant turned to stare. Graham swiveled around, and his face went instantly, sickeningly white. “Elle? What are you doing here?” 4 “Was it fun, Graham? Was it fun to lie to me for five years?” I tore off my cap and scarf and rushed to his side, grabbing his sleeve. “What was my crime? What did I do that was so wrong you had to torture me like this?” Panic flashed in his eyes. He glanced around at the onlookers and then grabbed my arm, his voice a low, hard hiss. “There are too many people here. We need to go outside.” “You’re the one who can’t be seen!” I yelled, my eyes burning with tears. I wrenched my arm free. “You and Mom and Dad conspired to trick me—to tell me we were bankrupt, in debt, and that you were doing some grim, humiliating job!” “But the truth? They’re on a permanent vacation, and you’re driving home every night in a Maybach! I was the only one suffering!” My voice broke into a raw, hysterical cry. “Tell me, Graham! Why? Just tell me, what’s the big deal about spending a thousand dollars when you have billions in the bank?!” Graham’s face went cold. “I knew you were listening in this afternoon. That’s why you asked those questions.” He seized my wrist again, his grip tight, trying to physically haul me out of the restaurant. A waiter suddenly rushed over, grabbing my other arm. “Ma’am, you haven’t paid the check! That’s five hundred dollars!” Graham froze. His brow furrowed in a familiar, judgmental way. “Did you order the most expensive thing on the menu, Elle? Still haven’t learned the value of a dollar?” He deliberately let the restaurant’s gaze linger on me for a humiliating moment before pulling out a card. Outside, Vivianna followed, her voice dripping with false sympathy. “Elle, your parents and Graham only did this to teach you a lesson! You shouldn’t be ungrateful!” “This has nothing to do with you!” The nameless fire in my chest exploded. I yanked free of Graham’s grasp and slapped Vivi across the face. She shrieked, clutching her cheek in stunned disbelief. Snap! The next second, Graham’s hand connected with my own face, paying back the blow. “Elle, are you serious? Would Mom and Dad and I have gone to all this trouble if you weren’t so relentlessly spoiled and vain?” he spat. “You think these five years were easy for us? And you dare to raise your hand? Maybe the punishment wasn’t long enough!” I stood there, stunned, listening to his icy voice. In that moment, something deep inside me died. After a long silence, I slowly lifted my head, a mocking laugh escaping my throat. “Not enough?” I challenged. “What would satisfy you, Graham? My life? Is that enough of a payment?” “Stop talking nonsense!” His eyes flashed with annoyance. He called the driver and shoved me into the sedan. Tears streamed down my cheeks, but I was laughing. “Which home are we going to? The small one or the real one?” He didn’t even look at me. He pulled out his phone and called my parents. “You need to come back. Yes, she knows. No, I didn’t tell her. She overheard me!” BANG! Graham smashed his phone against the console, his anger radiating through the car. He looked at me, his eyes full of exhaustion and impatience. “And you have the nerve to cry?” he snarled. “I spent five years in that disgusting apartment with you. I’m the one who gets screamed at now! What are you crying about? Stop acting like you’re the only victim here!” I was past speech, letting his insults wash over me until the car pulled up to our old, lavish estate. Five years. I felt like a stranger as he physically pushed me through the front door. The chilling pain in my stomach returned, churning. I couldn’t hold it back: I bent over and coughed up a pool of thick, black blood. I scrambled to wipe it up, but Graham saw it. He sneered. “Nice prop work, Elle. Trying to make me feel guilty? Save the dramatics for Mom and Dad. That cheap little act won’t work on me.” 5 Mom and Dad arrived early the next morning. Graham, still simmering from their inevitable scolding, had forced me to sit on the living room sofa all night. No sleep, combined with the persistent stomach pain, left me clammy, shaky, and emotionally spent. But when they walked in, I shot to my feet. In my mind, they had died five years ago. Seeing them healthy and whole in the house felt like a nightmare made real. “Elle. Do you admit your mistake yet?” my father asked, his voice cold and commanding. I froze. My voice was a croaking whisper. “What mistake?” My father’s expression tightened. “Five years, and you still don’t understand the struggle of earning money? We faked our deaths and went overseas to show you that money doesn’t grow on trees, and that it can run out. It’s a relief that you finally know. Now we can come home.” My heart turned to ice. “So, in the end, I was the one inconveniencing you?” I countered, the emotion rising again. “I genuinely don’t understand. We have generations of wealth! I wasn’t even wasteful! Why was I subjected to this cruel punishment?” “Do you know how much pain you caused me? The last five years, I—” “Elle, just say sorry!” My mother rushed over and grabbed my hand, tears welling in her eyes. “Your father hasn’t been home for five years to visit your grandmother’s grave, all because of this. It wasn’t easy for you, but it wasn’t easy for us either. Just apologize, and the punishment ends right now. We can be a family again…” “I won’t apologize!” I roared, wrenching my hand away. “The mistake is yours! Your thinking is flawed! I did nothing wrong!” CRACK! The moment the words left my mouth, Graham’s hand slammed across my face. “Is that how you speak to your parents?!” he yelled. “What right do you have to be angry? You think I had it easy? If I wasn’t worried about you, I would have gone overseas with them!” My mind went blank. My ears rang. I could barely hear his voice anymore. After what felt like an eternity, I nodded in resignation. “Give me the $130,000 back.” I earned that money with my life. He gave me a disdainful look, made a phone call, and within minutes, an assistant carried the duffel bag of cash back in. I dried my tears, shouldered the heavy bag, and headed for the door. My mother started to protest, but my father stopped her. “Let her go. Let’s see where she runs to.” I closed the door and returned to the housing block. I took out my key to the old studio, but a hand gripped my wrist. “Young lady, this unit has been sold. You can’t go inside.” “Was it sold to a Stanton?” I asked without looking up. “Yes, it was. How did you know?” he asked. I gave a self-mocking laugh, hefted the cash, and walked away. The stabbing pain in my stomach flared up again. I headed to the nearest hospital. I went to the cashier to pay for the consultation. The moment I handed over the money, security guards swarmed me, pinning me down. My head was spinning, and I was too weak to fight. I heard shouts about “Counterfeit” and “Calling the police.” The police arrived shortly after. The officer in charge frowned at me. “Young lady, this is all fake. Where did you get this money?” I was stunned. I fumbled in my pocket and handed him the clinical trial contract. “I don’t know! I earned it in a drug trial! Officer, I had nothing to do with this!” He looked at the contract, his frown deepening. “You’ve been scammed. This company is a criminal operation.” “Did they draw your blood?” My pupils constricted. I nodded mechanically. The officer sighed. “Their drug was fine. But the needle… it was tainted.” He couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence. A cold dread washed over me. Just then, my test results arrived. The doctor handed them to the officer. “It’s a Stage Three hematological disorder. Those criminals are insane.” Ugh— I couldn’t hold on anymore. I threw up a mouthful of black blood and collapsed, everything fading to black. As I lost consciousness, I heard the officer shouting. “Contact the family! Now!”

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1 After the heir to the Campbell fortune got into a car crash and lost his memory, he forgot all about the simple girl who was his one true love. So his family arranged for me to swoop in. A strategic alliance, an engagement. But this heir, Damian Campbell, was once the family’s most disfavored son. Back then, even I had been among those who had casually humiliated him. Only the housekeeper’s daughter had stood by him, supporting him on his ruthless climb to become the Campbell successor. Fate, however, had a twisted sense of humor. After Damian’s amnesia, I never mentioned the past he’d forgotten. I played the part of his perfectly matched fiancée, and our life together was, for the most part, peaceful. Until two years later, when the housekeeper’s daughter, who had been driven away by the Campbell family, returned from abroad. And Damian’s memories began to resurface. Once his mind and heart were back on track, he was destined to settle the score with me. Everything would be set right. But then, I got pregnant. 2 I heard Damian was rushed to the hospital that morning, struck by a sudden, splitting headache at the office. When I arrived at the door of the VIP suite, his assistant was waiting outside. “Ms. Hopkins.” Nathaniel Reed, his executive assistant, stopped me before I could go in. “Mr. Campbell,” he said, his voice low, “he might be getting his memory back.” My fingers tightened on my purse. I took a deep breath and pushed the door open. There were already people inside. Besides Damian, there was another man and a woman. The man was one of Damian’s few friends, Leo. The woman was dressed in a simple, elegant dress. She had a clean, almost ethereal beauty. She was speaking to Damian. “My name is Seraphina Rose.” “I’m back.” “Do you remember who I am?” Her voice was soft, laced with a fragile, trembling hope. Damian wasn’t in the hospital bed. He was sitting in an armchair in the suite’s living area, looking as imposing as ever. Dressed in a sharp suit, his handsome face was cold and impassive, his legs crossed in a posture of casual authority. If not for the faint pallor of his skin, you wouldn’t know anything was wrong. He didn’t answer her. Instead, he spoke to his friend, his tone laced with ice. “Leo, stop bringing random women to see me.” He then motioned for his assistant to show them out. As Leo led the woman away, he shot back, “Damian, you’re going to regret saying that.” The woman’s eyes reddened. She cast one last, lingering look at Damian before turning to leave. Her gaze was filled with a universe of emotions I couldn’t begin to decipher. Now it was just the two of us. As his fiancée, I played my part. “Does your head still hurt?” “I’m fine,” Damian said, his voice clipped. “Nathan said… you might be remembering things?” He pressed his fingers to his temple. “Just fragments. Flashes I can’t hold onto. Someone crying in the snow, a lot of muffled voices…” Damian uncrossed his legs. A moment later, he pulled me onto his lap. We’d been engaged for nearly a year and a half since his accident. It wasn’t as if our relationship was purely platonic. We had the intimacy expected of a couple. He spoke, his voice a low murmur against my ear. “That was just Leo playing a prank. Bringing in some girl and claiming she was someone I used to love.” Given Leo’s reputation as a troublemaker, it was an easy mistake for Damian to make. He leaned in, his cool lips brushing the corner of my mouth. “Compared to her,” he whispered, a hint of dark amusement in his tone, “your gentle beauty is far more my type.” He said it to reassure me, to dismiss the other woman. And it worked, because it was obvious his memory hadn’t fully returned. He had no idea who that girl, Seraphina Rose, really was. He didn’t remember how important she had been to him. I lowered my eyes, hiding the storm of fear inside me. “Good,” I whispered. 3 Damian was discharged from the hospital that same day. That evening, he took me back to his penthouse. In the car, he held my hand, his thumb stroking my knuckles. “Colette, I’ve been thinking,” he said suddenly. “About what?” “If my memory does come back,” he paused, “do you think I’ll find out there are secrets between us?” My heart hammered against my ribs. “Why would you ask that?” “A gut feeling,” he said, his gaze turning to the city lights blurring past the window. “I just feel like I’ve forgotten something… something vital.” I was silent for a moment before answering softly, “Whatever happens, happens. What’s meant to be remembered, will be.” Later that night, Damian’s hands were gentle on my shoulders and waist as he turned me so my back was to him. “Is this okay?” His voice was a low rumble, tinged with restraint. I finally nodded. “Be gentle.” In our relationship, Damian was the perfect partner, the ideal fiancé. Even in our most intimate moments, he was always considerate of me. After his amnesia, it was his grandmother, Matilda Campbell, who had personally chosen me for him. Before our engagement, she had summoned me for a private meeting. “This isn’t just about the alliance between the Campbell and Ashford families,” she’d told me bluntly. “Colette, when a beautiful, gentle, and understanding woman like you is by a man’s side, no man can resist falling for you.” Her intention was clear: she wanted me to replace Seraphina in Damian’s heart before his memory returned. And on the surface, it seemed to be working. Damian was clearly attracted to me. A few months after our engagement, we fell into the easy rhythm of a couple living together. He desired me, physically. But desire for a pretty face, for a warm body, is the most superficial connection of all. What the old matriarch didn’t know was that before Damian was the heir, during the darkest period of his life, Seraphina had been his rock. And me? Back then, I was one of them. One of the rich kids who looked down on him, who had played a part in his humiliation. The moment Damian remembers, replacing Seraphina will be a fantasy. He’ll want nothing more than to destroy me. 4 I slept poorly, my dreams filled with ghosts from the past—scenes I desperately wanted to forget but were seared into my memory. I woke to Damian’s hand on my forehead, wiping away a cold sweat. “Bad dream?” he asked, his voice husky with sleep. Seeing me clutch my stomach, he pulled me into his arms. He glanced down and his eyes softened. “Colette,” he said gently, “you’ve started your period.” It was a few days early, but it was never regular. This time, though, the cramping was worse than usual. A small, dark stain had blossomed on his pristine white sheets. My eyes fluttered closed. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “Don’t be ridiculous.” He didn’t seem to mind at all. He got up, found a box of pads in the bathroom cabinet, and then carried me into the en-suite. “Does it hurt much?” he asked, his touch incredibly gentle as he helped me clean up. “It’s okay.” “I’ll have the housekeeper make you some ginger tea.” As my fiancé, Damian had never lacked attentiveness. But behind this flawless facade was a man who was always in control, always rational. In front of me, he was calm, composed, unshakable. This was the same man who, two years ago, had lost control so completely over Seraphina that he’d ended up in a near-fatal car crash. The thought made a question slip from my lips. “Damian, have you ever considered that if you get your memory back, you might discover you were in love with someone else?” “So in love you would have done anything for her.” “What would you do?” His hands stilled for a moment. “Colette, what are you worried about?” He lifted me onto the marble vanity, his hands bracketing me on either side. “I’m just curious.” “If there really was someone like that,” he said, his gaze serious, “I suppose the first thing I’d do is find out why I forgot her.” “And then?” “And then,” he paused, thinking, “I’d do what I believe is right.” It was a vague answer. But it was also terrifyingly honest. 5 On a weekday, Matilda Campbell insisted I bring Damian lunch at his office. It was, she said, what a good fiancée does. I arrived just as he was finishing a board meeting. Damian, impeccably dressed, took the insulated lunch bag from me in front of his top executives. He handed it to Nathan. “Thank you,” he said, his arm wrapping naturally around my waist. One of the executives was the head of a joint project between our families. And standing just behind him today was a familiar figure. It was Seraphina. Her eyes fell on Damian’s arm around me, and the light in them dimmed. The executive greeted me first. “Ms. Hopkins.” Then he turned to Damian. “Mr. Campbell, this is my new assistant, Ms. Rose. A brilliant graduate, just returned from her studies abroad. She’ll be our liaison with Campbell Corp for this project.” “Is that so?” Damian’s gaze flickered over Seraphina, cool and impersonal. “Welcome to the team. I trust you’ll be up to the task.” His tone was strictly business. Seraphina bit her lip. “I’ll do my best, Mr. Campbell.” An older vice president saw me and chuckled. “Damian, I hear wedding bells are in your future?” A faint smile touched Damian’s lips. “It’s about time I settled down.” He then made the announcement to everyone present. “The wedding is set for three months from now. You’ll all receive invitations.” A chorus of congratulations erupted. “Congratulations, Mr. Campbell!” “Ms. Hopkins is a lucky woman!” Through it all, I watched Seraphina’s face grow pale. Her fingers were clenched so tightly around her folder that her knuckles were white. 6 After lunch, Damian had me stay in his office. It was the perfect opportunity. “Your grandmother wants me to quit my job to focus on wedding preparations.” I taught piano at a prestigious international school and occasionally performed. But Matilda Campbell was a woman who did not tolerate being disobeyed. “Do you want to keep working?” Damian asked, putting down his chopsticks. “Yes. I love teaching. And I love music.” He saw the desire in my eyes. “If you don’t want to quit, I’ll handle it.” “Really?” “You’re my fiancée,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s my duty to support your choices.” He did, however, expect a reward. Before I could protest, Damian leaned in and captured my lips in a slow, possessive kiss. His hand rested on my waist, a firm, comforting pressure. We were interrupted by a knock on the door. “Come in.” Damian pulled away, his fingers gently smoothing my hair. Nathan entered with a file. Though Damian looked perfectly composed, I was still catching my breath in his arms. It was obvious what we’d been doing. Nathan tactfully ignored it. “Mr. Campbell, this is the background check you requested on Seraphina Rose.” A knot of ice formed in my stomach. He was investigating her. He had seemed so dismissive at the hospital. Had some part of him recognized her after all? Nathan placed the file on the desk, then glanced at me, hesitating. “Is there something else?” Damian asked, sensing his reluctance. “No, sir.” Nathan retreated. After he left, Damian turned to me. “Colette, do you know why I’m looking into her?” I shook my head, my heart pounding. “Your stepbrother came to see me,” Damian explained. “He asked me to go easy on this project, to let Seraphina use it as a training ground. He said she’s exceptionally talented.” He then dropped a bombshell he thought I didn’t know. “There’s a reason the Ashfords are so invested in her. They’ve found their long-lost daughter.” I feigned shock. “You mean… Seraphina?” “Yes.” Damian nodded, opening the file for me to see. “The DNA results just came back. She’s the Ashford heiress, missing for years.” As I processed this, he continued, his voice low and protective. “You’re my fiancée. Soon, we’ll be husband and wife. I have to look out for you. I needed to know what kind of person she is. If she’s going to be difficult, I need to be ready to protect you.” His words were a complicated mix of comfort and terror. I wasn’t an imposter who had stolen Seraphina’s identity; my mother had married into the Ashford family when I was a child. But the irony was staggering. The file in front of me was detailed, but it only briefly mentioned that Seraphina had been adopted by a housekeeper. Her entire history with Damian, their shared past at the Campbell estate, had been completely erased. Someone was deliberately hiding the truth. With the wedding so close, Damian thought he was protecting me, his future wife. He had no idea that once Seraphina—the true Ashford heiress—was officially welcomed back into the family, the first thing she would want is the man this engagement was meant for. The man who was rightfully hers. 7 That afternoon, after my classes, I called my mother. “Your stepfather was planning to announce it at the family dinner next week,” she admitted. “When he asked you to bring Damian.” “Colette… I didn’t mean to keep it from you.” Her voice was heavy with guilt. Then, she asked a strange question. “Have you been feeling alright lately? Any discomfort?” I was about to dismiss her concern when, as if on cue, a dull, aching cramp started low in my belly. “I’m fine, Mom. Just a little tired.” “Well, get some rest.” After we hung up, the pain intensified. My period this month had been strange—spotty and light, but incredibly uncomfortable. I left work early and went to the hospital. I never imagined I could be pregnant. Damian and I had always been careful. For a while, it had been him. But recently, I’d gone to the doctor and gotten a prescription for a low-dose birth control pill, officially to help regulate my cycle. Now, sitting in the OB-GYN’s office, I stared as the doctor read my test results. “You’re about four weeks along,” she said. “Some light bleeding can be normal in early pregnancy.” She looked at me over her glasses. “But you need to be careful. Now that you’re pregnant, you should avoid strenuous intimacy. Get plenty of rest, and try to keep your stress levels down.” The paper in my hand trembled. Pregnant. I was actually pregnant. Now, of all times. I hid the test results in my bag. As I stepped out of the hospital, a light rain began to fall. I stood under the awning, watching the drops splatter on the pavement, completely lost. 8 On the day of the Ashford family dinner, I found my mother alone, overseeing the preparations. I didn’t mention the pregnancy. I just asked, “Are you hiding something from me?” She froze. “Colette, what—” She finally broke. “It was the Ashfords who pushed for this marriage alliance. Now, to make it up to his real daughter, your stepfather wants to call off your engagement before her official debut.” “I couldn’t let them just use you and throw you away,” she whispered. “So what did you do?” My voice shook. “A month ago… I paid the housekeeper at your place. I had her switch your birth control pills with vitamins.” My mother couldn’t look at me. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” My voice rose. “I know, but I had no choice!” she cried, her eyes red. “Colette, you’re my daughter! I can’t watch you be sacrificed and then discarded! With a child, the Campbells can’t just break the engagement. Even if Damian remembers everything, he’ll have to treat you better for the baby’s sake.” I took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to control my rage. “Mom, you’re so naive. You don’t know the first thing about Damian and Seraphina.” I stopped myself before I could say more. A moment later, Damian found me. He came to my side, his fingers instantly finding mine. He brushed his hand over my bare arm, exposed by my sleeveless dress. “Why are you so cold?” He asked a passing maid to fetch me a shawl. I forced a smile. “It’s nothing, just the air conditioning.” My younger half-brother, my mother’s son with Mr. Ashford, ran up to Damian, chirping, “Brother-in-law!” A small smile touched Damian’s lips. He ruffled the boy’s hair. “Your sister tells me you haven’t been focusing on your studies. Work harder. If you make it into the top ten of your class, I’ll get you whatever you want. Don’t make your sister and me worry, understand?” The boy, spoiled by everyone else in the house, was surprisingly obedient with Damian. “I will, brother-in-law!” My mother chose that moment to interject. “Damian, you’ll make a wonderful father one day. You two should start trying for a baby soon. Colette, why are you wearing flats tonight? Are you pregnant already?” My heart stopped. The smile vanished from Damian’s face. His voice was cool and definite as he replied, “She’s not pregnant. She had her period last week.” “Oh, I see,” my mother said, disappointed. “Well, no rush. It will happen when it happens.” Later, when we were alone, I asked him directly, “After marriage comes children. But you don’t seem interested in having any.” Damian was draping the shawl over my shoulders. His handsome face was unreadable. “There’s no hurry,” he said. “We can wait a few years. We’re both still young. I’ve never thought about being a father this early.” “And…” he hesitated. “And what?” “Growing up in the Campbell family, I’ve seen too much bloodshed over inheritances,” his voice turned colder. “I don’t want my child to grow up in an environment like that.” His indifference on the subject was palpable. In a ruthless family like the Campbells, where love was a currency and siblings were rivals, he truly had no desire for an heir. My hand instinctively went to my stomach, where a tiny, secret life was growing. 9 Across the room, Seraphina—now officially Seraphina Ashford—was descending the grand staircase just as she spotted Damian and me together. She was transformed. Gone was the simple girl from the hospital. Tonight, she was breathtaking in a champagne-colored gown, her hair swept up to reveal a long, elegant neck. Her eyes, however, were fixed on one person. “Damian…” she breathed, her voice a fragile mix of longing and hurt. Damian’s gaze met hers, cold and detached. “Colette is only two months your senior,” he said, his voice cutting through the air. “But given the circumstances, you should be calling me your brother-in-law.” The color drained from Seraphina’s face. “I… I understand. Brother-in-law.” She managed a brittle smile and turned away, stumbling slightly. The rest of the evening was a blur. The Ashfords formally announced the return of their long-lost daughter. My stepfather stood with her, beaming with paternal pride. “This is my daughter, Seraphina. From now on, she is the eldest daughter of the Ashford family. Please, make her feel welcome.” The guests flocked to congratulate her. Seraphina handled them with a grace that betrayed none of her earlier distress. My mother somehow arranged for Damian and me to stay the night, in my old childhood bedroom. He was oblivious to the web of schemes closing in around us. After his shower, he came to bed. He kissed me, a simple goodnight kiss that slowly deepened. “It’s been a while,” he murmured, his fingers sliding under the hem of my nightgown. I caught his hand. “Not tonight,” I stopped him. “I’m still not feeling well.” His hair was still damp, his jawline sharp. I watched his throat move as he swallowed. “Your period is lasting a long time, isn’t it?” he said, his voice low. “It’s probably just my hormones,” I lied. “I have a follow-up appointment at the hospital tomorrow,” he said. “Why don’t you come with me and get checked out?” My breath hitched. For the past two years, Damian had been undergoing treatments, trying to reclaim his past. In the last six months, he’d started working with a top specialist, trying a more aggressive, interventional therapy. It was clearly working. He was going to remember everything. Maybe as soon as tomorrow.

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