Category: English

I woke up and stretched lazily. Then, with a jolt, I found myself wide awake, sitting upright in my office chair. I whipped my head around. A few of my colleagues were still hunched over their computers, their faces illuminated by the glow of the screens. I stared in disbelief for a long moment before it finally sank in. This wasn’t a dream. I had been reborn. It seemed even fate itself couldn’t stand what had happened to me and had given me a second chance. This time, I vowed, I would stay as far away from Aria Grey as possible. We would be strangers, worlds apart. I opened my laptop to type up my resignation. But then, the memories of my past life flooded back. In my previous life, at the end of June, there was a massive summer job fair. A man having a psychotic break had escaped his mother’s care, grabbed a knife from a fruit stand, and rushed into the crowded venue. In the chaos, many students, unable to escape in time, were left bleeding on the floor. The man eventually charged toward our company’s booth, heading straight for the CEO, Aria Grey. Everyone froze in terror. Everyone except me. I threw myself in front of her without a second thought. Even after the knife plunged into my abdomen, I clung to the attacker, refusing to let go. After the incident was contained, I was rushed to the hospital. The blade had pierced my spleen, and it had to be removed. Just as I was sinking into despair, convinced my life was over, Aria stunned everyone by proposing to me in front of them all. She promised to take care of me for the rest of my life. It felt surreal, but I said yes. After we were married, Aria’s care was meticulous. She practically insisted on feeding me every meal by hand. Without a spleen, my immune system was shot. I ran high fevers constantly, often spiking to 102 or 103 degrees. Aria would stay up all night by my side, bringing me water and medicine. I thought marrying a woman like Aria meant I must have won the cosmic lottery. But it wasn’t until I was on my deathbed that I learned the truth. She hadn’t married me out of love, or even gratitude. She had married me to leverage the fame my “heroic act” had brought, using my reputation to advance her career. Her greatest wish each day was for me to die sooner. Only my death would finally set her free. To that end, she had thrown away the specialized medication my doctor prescribed, replacing it with some counterfeit junk she’d gotten from who-knows-where. No wonder I had only lasted ten years in my past life. It had all been her doing. What a vicious woman. So this time, I had to get away from her. I had to escape this black widow. Snapping back to the present, I lifted my shirt and ran a hand over my stomach. There was no ugly scar. My spleen was still there, safe and sound. I still had a chance. And it wasn’t just about me. I had to save all those young people who died in that attack. They deserved a second chance, just like I got. I closed the resignation letter draft. For now, I had to stay. If I just quit, I wouldn’t have the resources or influence to stop what was coming. I needed help. With my mind made up, I took out a pen and paper to plan my next steps. Just then, a colleague tapped me on the shoulder. “Jay, do you ever check the work chat? The boss has tagged you like a hundred times.” My heart skipped a beat. I pulled out my phone. Sure enough, Aria had messaged me repeatedly. Why on earth would she be summoning me to her office for no reason? Filled with doubt, I went upstairs to see her. The moment I walked in, Aria looked up, her gaze locking onto mine. My treacherous heart began to pound. She was still so beautiful. Her long, wavy hair framed a face so perfect it could have been sculpted. No matter what, she had taken care of me for ten years in our past life. No sane person could just erase that. Seeing her again, I felt a sudden urge to cry. I took a deep breath, forcing myself to remain calm. “Ms. Grey, you wanted to see me?” Aria snapped out of her daze. She gestured for me to sit on the sofa and poured me a cup of tea. Alarm bells went off in my head. I had learned my lesson the hard way. Beneath that gentle exterior was a woman poisonous enough to murder her own husband. I watched her with a cold, guarded expression. Aria sat across from me, her voice soft. “You’ve been with the company for two years now. I want you to be in charge of this year’s summer job fair.” I was even more confused. Last time, the job fair was handled by HR. My department was only involved in the interviews. As the saying goes, when something is too strange to be true, it usually is. I refused without a second thought. “Ms. Grey, I know my own capabilities. I can’t handle that kind of responsibility. If there’s nothing else, I’ll get back to my work.” But her next words cornered me completely. “I’m not asking, Jay. I’m telling you. This job fair is extremely important. I’ve given it a lot of thought, and I believe you’re the only one in the company who is right for this.” My resolve wavered. I had just been racking my brain, trying to figure out how to get the company’s resources for my plan. Now, Aria was handing them to me on a silver platter. Fine. As long as I could save those people, a little interaction with Aria was a small price to pay. I just had to stay vigilant. I clenched my jaw and nodded. “Okay. Thank you for the opportunity, Ms. Grey.” Back at my desk, Aria quickly announced in the company-wide chat that I would be responsible for the job fair. She tagged everyone to make sure they saw it. A colleague sidled over, looking at me with wide eyes. “Man, we slave away day and night and never get a gig like this. The boss putting you in charge… are you about to get a promotion, marry an heiress, and live the dream?” I laughed bitterly to myself. Just like last time. After I married Aria, everyone thought I was the luckiest man alive. No one knew how my story ended. I wonder if they would still be so envious if they knew my short life had been personally cut short by Aria Grey. Whatever. No time to dwell on that. I had more important things to do. That afternoon, I drafted a plan and pulled everyone involved into a new Slack channel, sharing a list of required supplies. The channel immediately filled with skeptical comments. I had requested stab-proof vests, cut-resistant gloves, and riot shields. The HR department thought I was joking and demanded a meeting to explain myself. I agreed, knowing I’d have to come up with a damn good excuse to convince them. To my surprise, Aria showed up at the meeting. The head of HR was furious, accusing me of being on a power trip. I knew he was just angry that I was stepping on his turf. I calmly asked him to hear me out, then looked at everyone with a grave expression. “This year has the largest number of graduates ever. The venue will be packed. It’s best if we don’t have to use this equipment, of course. But we have to be prepared for any unexpected situations.” HR was about to argue again, but Aria suddenly raised a hand, silencing the room. “We’ll go with Jay’s plan. Everyone wears a vest. If you think it’s ugly, wear a jacket over it.” The room fell silent. I was just as surprised as they were. I had a dozen excuses ready, but before I could use any of them, Aria had made the final decision. Not wasting the opportunity, I made another suggestion: mandatory group fitness sessions for everyone involved until the job fair. In a crisis, being in shape could save a life. This time, everyone erupted. “Come on, Jay, don’t mess with us. Work is tiring enough without adding a mandatory workout. Besides, that’s our personal time. You can’t control that.” I tried to explain, but no one was listening, their voices a chaotic buzz of complaint. It was Aria again who slammed her hand on the table, demanding silence. “I support it. For the period leading up to the job fair, everyone involved can leave work early. I’ll rent out a gym. It won’t cost any of you a penny.” I was dumbfounded. I couldn’t figure out what was happening. Since I’d been reborn, Aria was like a completely different person, a total stranger. But it didn’t matter. I couldn’t be bothered to think about her. Once this job fair was over, I was quitting. We would go our separate ways and never see each other again. Just then, Aria’s hand came to rest on my thigh. “Go for it,” she whispered, her voice low. “Whatever you do, I’ll support you.” I flinched as if bitten by a snake, snatching my leg away. I turned my face, refusing to look at her. Aria froze for a second, her smile stiffening on her face. As I left the conference room, my colleagues’ stares were… strange. I knew what they were thinking, but what did it have to do with me? After everyone else had gone home, I stayed behind, continuing to flesh out the plan for the job fair. Whatever Aria’s reasons were for supporting me, I had no excuse not to make this perfect. The booths needed barriers—if acrylic wasn’t strong enough, we’d use stainless steel railings. The cost was her problem; my only concern was saving as many lives as possible. I don’t know how much time passed. Aria walked over and placed a coffee on my desk. “The job fair is still a few days away. You need to rest.” Her gentle voice sent me spiraling back to my past life. For ten years, she had used that same gentleness to deceive me until the very end. I looked down at the coffee and immediately pictured the discarded medicine boxes in the trash can. My heart felt like it was being gently torn open. A soft, agonizing pain. I pulled away from her touch, my voice tight with suppressed emotion. “Thanks for your concern, Ms. Grey, but I’m not going to die from exhaustion.” Aria didn’t say anything. She just sat there beside me, watching me with a blank expression. Her stare was making my skin crawl. I finally couldn’t take it anymore, snapped my laptop shut, and stood up to leave. She followed, linking her arm with mine. “The buses have stopped running. Let me give you a ride.” I wrenched my arm free again. “Don’t trouble yourself, Ms. Grey. I have legs.” Aria stopped in her tracks, a look of pure shock on her face. I walked away quickly, almost fleeing, desperate to get out of her sight. Why? In this life, there was no reason for our paths to cross, yet here she was, tangling herself up in mine again. I don’t remember how I got home. I just fell into bed and passed out. And yet, she was still there in my dreams. Aria was lying in my arms, murmuring things I couldn’t understand. I kissed her madly, again and again, until my own tears woke me up. I furiously wiped them away and looked out the window. The sky was getting light. That afternoon, we got off work at four. My colleagues were secretly thrilled. Who wouldn’t be happy about a paid workout session? Soon, the gym was filled with whoops and hollers as everyone tried to one-up each other. Ten minutes later, I turned off the treadmill and stepped off to catch my breath. Aria walked over, holding a towel to wipe the sweat from my forehead. For a split second, I was lost in a daze. Her upturned face seemed to merge with the image from my dream. But then I caught the sweet, floral scent on the towel and snapped back to reality, jerking my head away. Aria didn’t seem to mind. She handed me a thermos. “You can’t drink cold water right after a workout. I added some salt and taurine. It’s good for you.” I refused to look at her, glancing over my shoulder to see a few of my colleagues smirking in our direction. I didn’t want to make a scene. I pushed the thermos away and said in a low voice, “Thanks, Ms. Grey, but I don’t need you to worry about me. I know to drink when I’m thirsty and rest when I’m tired. I’m not an idiot.” I turned and walked away, leaving Aria standing there, looking lost. Her expression was so wounded. She just stood there, all alone, like an abandoned child. My heart gave a painful squeeze. But then I remembered her actions in our past life. This woman loved to play the victim to manipulate people. In the locker room, a few of the guys sidled up to me, their voices dripping with insinuation. “Who knew, Jay? You’ve got Ms. Grey acting like a little wronged wifey, wiping your sweat, bringing you water.” “Don’t even talk about it. We’re not so lucky. All we can do is be jealous.” I shot back, annoyed. “If you wanted a drink so badly, why didn’t you go ask her for it? See if it poisons you.” They all roared with laughter and wandered off, still joking. I was full of doubts, but I pushed them away. It was pointless to think about it. How could I possibly fall for the woman who had already killed me once? But Aria wasn’t giving up. It was as if she was incapable of understanding my rejection. She shadowed me everywhere, constantly bringing me food and water, telling me to take breaks. I stopped trying to figure her out. The job fair was almost here. The moment the organizers gave the green light to set up our booths, I rushed to the venue. Aria followed. She saw my red-rimmed eyes and the dazed look on my face. She took my hand, made me sit down, and started massaging my neck from behind. “I know how much this job fair means to you, but don’t try to carry it all on your own. I’ll always be by your side.” I didn’t pay any attention to her words. My mind was consumed with a single thought: What if I fail? What if I can’t save them? The closer we got to the event, the greater the pressure became. It was crushing me. Aria’s actions, instead of comforting me, only brought back the gut-wrenching pain of my past life. And in that moment, something inside me snapped. I shot to my feet, violently shaking her arms off me. “Aria! What the hell do you want from me! Do I have to scream the ugliest words imaginable at you before you’ll finally leave me alone?” “I don’t know what you’re thinking, or if I’ve misunderstood something, but I can promise you this: there is no future for us!” Aria was stunned. Her mouth opened, and then suddenly, tears were streaming down her face. She wiped them away fiercely with her sleeve, grabbed my arm, and pulled me into a corner. I shook her off, turning my head away. Aria grabbed my shoulders with all her strength, pinning me against the wall. She looked up at me, her eyes blazing. “Jay Chen, in our last life, when you were dying, you said you didn’t want to be my husband anymore. I thought you were just delirious from the fever, but you really meant it! You’re that cruel! We loved each other for ten years! Don’t you have any feelings left for me? I gave you my entire heart! What did I do wrong to make you treat me like this? Tell me! Just tell me, so I can finally rest in peace!” So, Aria was reborn, too. She knew everything about our past life. A rage so intense it felt like my chest would explode erupted inside me. “Aria!” I roared. “If you really loved me, then why did you kill me!” Aria looked as if she couldn’t believe her ears. “What do you mean, I killed you?” she asked, her voice trembling. I was dizzy with anger. I tried to push her away, but she clung to me like a woman possessed, wrapping her arms around my waist. “Tell me how I harmed you! I served you day and night, was that harming you?” The more I struggled, the tighter she held on. In a moment of madness, I grabbed her by the hair and crushed my lips against hers. Aria immediately went still, her lips parting to meet mine. I took the chance and bit her. She cried out in shock and let go. I gasped for breath and looked at her. “It was over the moment I died in our last life. I told you then, if there was a next life, I wouldn’t be your husband. Stop looking for me. There’s no future for us.” I turned and walked away, leaving her behind me, crying and screaming my name. I ignored her and went back to the booth, watching the workers install the final railing. So that’s why she supported my plans. She knew all along. She may have killed me in our past life, but at least she did one good thing in this one. It didn’t matter. My life was no longer hers to claim. As I was lost in thought, a colleague came to take over my shift. He hesitated, then asked, “I saw Ms. Grey run off crying just now. I called out to her, but she didn’t answer. Did you two have a fight?” I shot him a glare. “What does Aria crying have to do with me? I don’t care if she lives or dies.” My colleague just clicked his tongue and shook his head. “I don’t get what a woman like her sees in a stubborn mule like you. She’s got the looks, the body, and she’s a rich heiress. If I had a girlfriend like that, I’d slap myself twice before I ever started a fight with her.” His words sparked a strange flicker of anger in me, like I’d just caught someone prying into my private belongings. I shot him another hard look and left the venue. Aria’s car was gone. She had really left. A hot, dry wind blew, leaving me feeling strangely melancholic. When I got back to the company, she still wasn’t there. I sat at my desk, staring into space.

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1 At my own wedding, as my husband Alexis and I exchanged rings, my sister Gwyneth burst into the chapel, stark naked. “Jenny,” she cried, tears streaming down her face. “I know you think I’m trash, I know you cut up all my clothes to stop me from coming, but I promised you I’d be here to see you married, and I always keep my promises!” Alexis, furious that I had supposedly provoked my fragile sister, decided on a punishment. He sent me to Serpent Isle, the one place in the world I feared most. There, I was transformed. I became a serpent-woman, a living curiosity, a plaything for men with… unique tastes. Six months later, Alexis came to take me home. Our entire family praised my new, docile demeanor. Until, that is, I caught a rat and, to their horror, swallowed it alive. “The isle is a paradise!” Alexis raged. “It’s filled with harmless, gentle snakes! I sent you there for a little self-reflection, not for you to pull these disgusting stunts just to spite me!” Just then, the scent of a powerful male pheromone filled the air. An insatiable hunger gripped me. My eyes involuntarily shifted, the pupils narrowing into vertical slits. My body contorted into an impossible arc as I lunged toward the cool, scaled body of a massive python. — When my husband, Alexis, came to collect me from Serpent Isle, he made a grand spectacle of it, bringing all our friends and family along on his private yacht. I was dressed in a pure white dress and led out to meet their astonished gazes. Alexis’s face was grim. “Jenny, have you learned your lesson these past six months? I expect you to leave Gwyneth alone when we get back. Do not disappoint me again.” I flicked my tongue out, tasting the air, sampling the uninteresting scent of the man before me. Alexis’s eyes fixed on my red lips, and for a moment, he seemed taken aback. Then, a flicker of satisfaction crossed his face. “I’ve never seen this playful side of you. It seems the island’s beauty has truly cleansed your wicked heart. I’ve prepared a welcome-home party for you on the yacht.” He took my hand to lead me aboard the lavish vessel. The moment our skin touched, he flinched, nearly letting go. “The sun is so strong here, why is your skin so cold?” He frowned, his brow furrowed in concern. “This temperature… it’s not human. Are you sick?” His words were a meaningless drone. I couldn’t process his commands. As I stared blankly at him, Gwyneth rushed forward, her face a mask of anxiety. “Alexis, she’s been on the island for half a year. She’s acclimated. Of course her body temperature is different from ours.” The sight of Gwyneth sent alarms shrieking through my mind. My blood ran cold. “Hiss… Hiss…” A warning sound escaped my throat as I backed away from her. Under the confused and disturbed stares of the crowd, Gwyneth covered her face and began to sob. “Jenny… after all this time, you still hate me this much? You still wish I were dead…” Alexis immediately pulled Gwyneth behind him, his eyes blazing with fury. “Jenny! And here I thought you’d finally changed. It didn’t take long for your true colors to show.” “Gwyneth may have come from nothing, a charity case our family took in, but in her heart, she is a thousand times kinder and better than you will ever be!” His words were a death sentence. Suddenly, every finger was pointed at me. Even my own parents looked at me with bitter disappointment. “Jenny, this family’s entire fortune will be yours one day. Gwyneth asks for so little, just a place at our table. Why must your heart be so small, so unable to tolerate her?” The party meant to celebrate my return had become a trial to condemn my sins. I felt their malice pressing in from all sides. Overwhelmed by fear, I scrambled under a nearby banquet table to hide. “What, Jenny? A monster like you can feel fear?” Alexis’s voice dripped with contempt. “Who do you think you’re fooling with this pathetic act?” His hand landed on my shoulder, intending to drag me out from my hiding place. 2 Instead, his grip caught on the loose skin on my back. He tore off a whole sheet that hadn’t finished molting. I cried out in pain, rubbing my raw back against the deck, and scrambled deeper into the darkness beneath the table. Alexis’s pupils contracted as if he’d been struck by lightning. Forgetting himself, he dropped to his hands and knees, his face level with mine. When he spoke, his voice was strangled. “Jenny… what’s wrong with you? Why is your skin… peeling off like that? Are you hurt?” Gwyneth’s choked sob cut through the silence. “The sun on the island is relentless. Her skin is so delicate, it must be a terrible sunburn. It’s all my fault. If it weren’t for me, Alexis would never have been angry enough to send her here.” “It’s not your fault, dear,” my mother cooed, pulling Gwyneth into a comforting embrace. “Jenny is my daughter, but I can’t ignore the truth. She’s a grown woman. Does she not know how to stay out of the sun?” “I think she did it on purpose,” she added, her voice hardening. “She knew we were coming to get her, so she deliberately burned herself. A pathetic ploy for sympathy.” At my mother’s words, Alexis’s face turned to stone. He ignored my struggles, grabbing my ankle and dragging me out from under the table. The raw, bloody skin of my back scraped against the rough wood of the deck, sending agony shooting through me. Alexis didn’t even seem to notice. He just glared down at me, his voice cold. “Is this your master plan, Jenny? It seems you’re not only cruel to others, but to yourself as well.” “Think of all the horrible things you’ve done to Gwyneth over the years. You forced her to show up naked at our wedding! All I did was send you on a six-month vacation to a natural paradise. That’s barely a punishment at all!” I ignored him. The blood loss had left me weak, and a primal need for sustenance consumed me. Just then, a large rat scurried out from the yacht’s galley. The guests shrieked and leaped onto chairs. My eyes lit up. With a feral gleam, I lunged. As Alexis and my parents watched in stunned horror, I clamped my jaw around the rodent and, with a sickening gulp, swallowed it whole. “Ah!” my mother screamed, a sound of pure anguish. “Is that my daughter? Six months of isolation on that island and she’s lost her very humanity?” Alexis looked as if he might faint. “Jenny, I know you’re afraid of snakes. But Serpent Isle is beautiful, and the snakes there are harmless and gentle! I don’t care how angry you are with me, you can’t keep degrading yourself with these disgusting, self-destructive acts!” As if on cue, Gwyneth dropped to her knees and began slapping her own face, weeping hysterically. “It’s my fault! If it weren’t for me, she would never have become like this! Please, take her home! I’ll stay here on Serpent Isle for the rest of my life to atone for my sins, just so she can be happy!” My mother’s tears stopped. She pointed a trembling finger at me. “You wretched girl! You’d turn yourself into an animal, abandon every shred of human decency, just to drive Gwyneth away?” Alexis’s eyes were black pools of fury as he stared at me. A slow, chilling smile spread across his lips, sending a shiver down my spine. “You like pretending to be a snake, Jenny? Fine. Then let’s get you some snakes to play with.” He snapped his fingers. A moment later, one of his men appeared, holding a large canvas bag. He tossed it onto the deck in front of me. It writhed. “I know you’re terrified of snakes, Jenny. You can’t even look at a rope if it’s coiled the wrong way without freezing up.” He stared at me, his eyes gleaming with cold calculation. “Apologize to Gwyneth right now. Swear, in front of everyone, that you will never trouble her again. Or I will open this bag and let you experience the pleasure of dancing with serpents.” 3 When I didn’t respond, a flicker of pity crossed Alexis’s face, but it was gone as quickly as it came. “Lock her in the karaoke lounge with the snakes,” he commanded his men. “Don’t let her out until she begs for forgiveness.” They threw me into the glass-walled room, followed by the squirming bag. Alexis stood outside, arms crossed, confidently waiting for my screams. It was true, I used to be terrified of snakes. Even after the scientists at the Serpent Isle Institute had slowly, painstakingly remade my body, the sight of a snake still made me tremble. But then, to complete my conditioning, to make me forget I was ever human, they threw me into a pit. A pit with thousands of snakes and no other food. To survive, I had to hunt. To live, I had to become the predator. In that pit, it was kill or be killed, devour or be devoured. After two months in the pit, snakes were no longer a source of fear. They were a source of food. As I sank my teeth into a green viper, the reflection in the glass showed Alexis staggering back. “Jenny, are you insane? What are you doing…?” He didn’t understand. One small rat couldn’t possibly satisfy my hunger. This bag of colorful, writhing snakes was the greatest gift he could have given me. While Alexis and my parents watched, their faces masks of pure horror, I tilted my head back and swallowed the thrashing serpent whole. With a strangled cry, Alexis burst into the room. He tore the half-eaten snake from my hands and threw it aside, then pulled me into a desperate embrace. “That’s enough, Jenny. Stop it. Stop torturing yourself like this. Please, can we just stop?” I didn’t understand why he was taking my food. But the scientists at the Institute, desperate for funding, had pimped me out after my transformation. They made me service men with… special interests. I learned that to get food, to fill my belly, I had to make men happy. I parted my lips, letting my forked tongue taste the air, and obediently knelt before him. I tucked my hair behind my ears and reached for the buckle of his belt. Disbelief warred with something else in his eyes. His voice was a raw, broken rasp. “Jenny… what did they teach you on that island? Have you forgotten who you are? You are an heiress of this family.” He grabbed my hands, his face contorted in pain. “How can you use these hands—hands that have won national piano competitions, hands that are as graceful as a goddess’s—for something so degrading, so base?” His knuckles were white from the force of his grip. I didn’t understand, I only knew that he was hurting me, so I pulled my hands away. He was the one who sent me to this island. He was the one who allowed my body to be twisted into a shape that pleased others, my mind to be broken and remolded into that of a snake. Every part of me—my hands, my mouth, my body—had been forced to perform the most depraved acts just to survive. And now, he was calling me cheap. I stared at him, my gaze unwavering, and he couldn’t even meet my eyes. He pressed his lips into a thin line. “Find out,” he snarled to the empty air. “Find out what the hell happened to my wife on that island!” While we waited, he pulled me onto his lap, cradling my hands in his own, trying to warm them. He didn’t know that my blood had been replaced. That I was a cold-blooded creature now. He could hold me forever and never make me warm. Half an hour later, two of his bodyguards dragged the nanny who was supposed to have cared for me onto the yacht. “I entrusted my wife’s well-being to you,” Alexis said, his voice dangerously low. “Perhaps you can explain to me why, in just six short months, she has become this… thing. Not quite human, not quite snake.” The nanny trembled uncontrollably.

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1 To run away with me, my girlfriend, Sarah, agreed to have a child with her childhood friend, Liam, to carry on his family line. After their first son was born, she told me the baby was too young to be without his mother. She asked me to wait until he was three. Three years passed. Then she said his family wanted a daughter to make the family “complete.” She asked me to wait a little longer. I waited and waited. I watched 1,460 sunrises and sunsets over Mount Rainier. When I finally thought we could leave, I found she had scheduled a vasectomy for me. When I stood before her with the surgical notice and my hiking pack, she clung to Liam and pleaded with me, “His grandparents want a third grandchild. Can you just wait a little longer?” The moment she said it, the world spun, and I fell down the stairs. In my last moments of fading consciousness, I saw Sarah looking down at me, her gaze cold and distant. “This is what you get, Matt, for not knowing your place.” I slowly closed my eyes, my heart finally dead. It was time to leave. Alone. “Well, well, if it isn’t the leech who’s always clinging to Miss Spencer. I heard he’s been trying to worm his way into the family.” “See? Karma’s a bitch. The Spencers gave specific instructions: no holding back during the procedure. Just castrate him.” “Once he’s got nothing down there, let’s see how he bothers Miss Spencer then! Serves him right!” I opened my eyes and tried to sit up, but a sharp, piercing pain shot through my lower body. Hearing me stir, the two nurses by my bed fell silent, but the contempt in their eyes was unconcealed. I was used to these stinging glares. “How long can I stay here?” I asked. The heavier nurse’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “Mr. Hayes, you can be discharged right now. Of course, you can stay as long as you like. We will be happy to serve you.” She then pulled the other nurse away, her mocking voice trailing behind her. “You see that? A grown man with red eyes, about to cry? Who’s he putting on a show for? Is he waiting for Miss Spencer to come? Give me a break. She’s got the handsome Mr. Lawson. Why would she come looking for him? He must be delusional.” I lowered my gaze and lifted the blanket, looking at the bloodstains on my pants. A bitter smile touched my lips. They were mistaken. I wasn’t waiting for Sarah to come. I was trying to hide for a few days. It was her ovulation period. Every month at this time, they would be inseparable, their passion unbridled and on full display. Every time, the sounds of their lovemaking were like daggers, stabbing me over and over. But I couldn’t say a word. Sure enough, ten days later, when I limped through the door, my face pale, they were on the sofa, wrapped in a post-coital kiss. Liam was kissing Sarah’s neck, his eyes meeting mine with a provocative smile. He suddenly bit down harder. Sarah gasped, a mix of protest and pleasure in her voice. “Liam, we’ve been at it all morning. You’re insatiable. The pregnancy test is already positive!” She picked up the test from the table, bouncing with joy. “Two lines! Liam, I’m pregnant with your third child!” 2 Then, she pouted and playfully hit his chest. “Oh no, you were so rough just now. What if you hurt the baby? You’re terrible!” Liam wrapped his arms around her, his hand gently caressing her stomach. “Of course not. Daddy will be gentle from now on. I won’t scare our little one.” Sarah leaned against him, her face radiant with the joy of impending motherhood. It was a stark contrast to the cold, calculating woman who had drugged me and sent me for the procedure. Even though I knew this was coming, my heart still clenched in pain. Sarah finally noticed me standing at the door. She froze, instinctively pulling away from Liam. Her voice was tinged with apology and guilt. “Matt, you heard? We didn’t have a choice. Grandpa said the company is too much for just two children to handle. A third heir is a safer bet.” “Otherwise, we wouldn’t have to bother Liam, who’s already so busy, to make a baby with me.” She gave Liam an apologetic kiss, completely oblivious to my ashen face. Liam deepened the kiss, chuckling as he ran his fingers through her damp hair. “It’s nothing, Sarah. As long as it makes you happy.” As they were about to get lost in each other again, a wave of resentment surged through me. I stood up straight and interrupted them. “Then why isn’t my child good enough?” Sarah’s expression became complicated, her brow furrowed. “Matt, what are you talking about?” I gave a humorless smile and asked again, “Sarah, wouldn’t my child be your child too? Not worthy of being born?” Before she could answer, a toy car came flying from upstairs and hit me on the forehead. An angry, childish voice followed. “Not worthy! Not worthy! You’re a creepy old man! Stop bothering my mommy! You’re not allowed to bully my mommy!” I stumbled back a few steps. Just as I regained my balance, a small boy came running at full speed and knocked me over. It was Sarah and Liam’s three-year-old son. “Creepy old man! How dare you come back! I won’t let you in my house! Get out!” He started punching and kicking at my groin. The area was already a mess of infection and decay from the botched surgery. If I hadn’t gone to a clinic in time, I might have lost everything. There was no way I could withstand a child’s frantic assault. I scrambled to get away, my body trembling with pain. Sarah saw the beads of sweat rolling down my forehead and quickly pulled her son away. “Leo, is that how you talk to your Uncle Matt? Apologize!” But Liam caught her raised hand. He stepped between us, frowning. “Sarah, why are you being so harsh with him? Have you forgotten what you promised me?” “Besides, how much strength can a little kid have…” Liam trailed off, shooting me a disgusted look. The concern on Sarah’s face faded, replaced by disappointment. She turned to me, her voice laced with exasperation. “Matt, you’re a man. It was just a small procedure. How can it still hurt after all this time? Are you really going to hold a grudge against a child?” “Besides, you were the one who said something inappropriate. Don’t say it again.” I bit my trembling lip. 3 Seeing I had no intention of backing down, Sarah’s face grew stern. She pushed me towards the nursery. “Alright, alright, Matt, go take care of the baby.” “You’ve been looking after her since she was born. She’s more attached to you than to me or Liam now. When she cries, no one else can soothe her. It’s exhausting.” I stood up, the pain shooting through me, and met her gaze. “Sarah, I told you, I’m not doing it anymore. I’m not your nanny.” But as if on cue, the family’s old housekeeper, Mrs. Lee, rushed out and shoved Sarah’s newborn daughter into my arms. “Matt? Oh, you’re finally back! Miss Spencer said you had a little procedure. Why stay in the hospital so long? A grown man, so delicate!” She shot me a disdainful glance. “Quick, quick, take her! These old bones of mine are about to fall apart. There, she’s all yours now. Take good care of her.” Then she shooed Sarah and the others out the door. “Miss Spencer, Mr. Lawson, what are you still dawdling for? Did you forget you’re taking Leo to the family dinner tonight? Look at the time, let’s go, let’s go!” I tried to hand the baby back, but Mrs. Lee blocked my way like a brick wall, escorting Sarah out. Her eyebrows were raised high, her expression as fierce as a cornered animal. “You leech, what do you think you’re doing? Back in my day, a man with designs on the young miss would have been crippled and thrown to the pigs! Know your place!” “Pah!” She spat on my face, and the door slammed shut. The only sound was the baby’s piercing cries, which felt like they were about to shatter my heart. I stared blankly at the child in my arms, wondering how my life had come to this. My wandering gaze fell on the photo wall in the living room. I realized that, at some point, the photos of Sarah and me hiking in the mountains had been slowly replaced by family portraits of her, Liam, and their son. There was no trace of me left. Only a single, small photo of a snow-capped mountain remained. It was Mount Rainier, the place where Sarah and I had fallen in love, the place where we were supposed to get married. Just before we were set to leave, her grandparents, disgusted by my humble origins, had insisted she marry Liam Lawson, the heir to the Lawson fortune. Sarah had run away from home. We were already in Seattle, about to head into the mountains. But a call from the ICU pulled her back. When she reappeared before me, she was rail-thin, her eyes swollen from crying. She fell to her knees. “Matt, I’m sorry. My grandparents raised me. I can’t let them die. But I can’t lose you either!” “I made a deal. If I have a son with Liam, they’ll let me go.” “Matt, please, don’t be angry, don’t leave me. Liam is just a means to an end. You’re the one I truly love! Just bear with me for ten months, okay?” The first time, Sarah cried in my arms, clinging to me desperately. At the last moment, she pushed me away and stumbled into Liam’s room. She was back in my room in less than a minute. 4 The second time, she was gone for half an hour. The third time, she stayed the night. The fourth, the fifth… Slowly, she went from insisting I wear a condom to forbidding me from touching her at all, saying she was afraid of “contaminating” the Spencer and Lawson bloodlines. She told me to be patient, that it would all be over after she gave birth. I sat in my room, waiting in bitter silence until dawn, but she never came back. I waited through the first child, the second. I watched 1,460 sunrises and sunsets over Mount Rainier. Sarah and Liam grew closer, more and more like a real married couple. And I, a man who had traveled the world, had become their nanny and childminder. I had fought, I had argued, I had even cried in frustration. Sarah would always soothe me, then go right back to Liam’s side. Now, a third child was on the way. I should have seen it long ago. I should have left. I sat in a daze until late at night. Sarah’s family finally returned, laughing and talking. The moment they opened the door, they froze. Her daughter was on the sofa, having cried herself into a state of exhaustion. The photos on the wall were all torn down, shredded to pieces. “Matt! I told you to take care of our daughter! Why isn’t she making a sound? Are you trying to kill her?” Sarah lunged at me and slapped me across the face, her expression contorted with rage. Liam rushed to pick up the baby and shoved her into my arms. “Matt! Just because you’re sad about losing your chance to have children, it doesn’t give you the right to take it out on my daughter!” “Get back in there and feed her, change her diaper!” But I was unmoved. I even smiled. “I told you, I’m not your nanny anymore. Don’t you understand?” Liam was stunned, then he laughed coldly, his finger practically poking me in the eye. “Sarah, you see? I told you he was holding a grudge! Has it been easy for me these past few years? I’ve put up with the gossip, raised three children with you without any official status, all to make your love story happen!” “And in the end, I’m the bad guy!” Sarah gritted her teeth and slapped me again, her eyes blazing. “Matt, do you have any idea how busy Liam is? Do you know how proud he is? He’s not even my boyfriend, but he’s had three children with me, all for you!” But if she would just open her eyes, she would see that the “busy” man she was talking about was practically glued to her 24/7, and still looked as vibrant as ever. And I was like a candle about to burn out, the dark circles under my eyes reaching down to my mouth, all because I had spent the last three months pulling all-nighters, cleaning up after her daughter. And now, I couldn’t even have children of my own. And what’s more, I was never the one who asked him to have children in the first place. Why was I the one paying the price? My expression was as dead as my heart. Sarah took it as a provocation and grew even angrier. “Can’t you be more understanding? My grandparents were starting to like you because you took such good care of the kids. Our plan was so close to succeeding. What is your problem now?” “Don’t you want to go to Mount Rainier with me anymore?” That threat again. The last flicker of love in my heart finally extinguished. I fought back the tears from the slap and said, my voice filled with a strange sense of release, “No, Sarah. I don’t want to go with you anymore.”

After I angered my stepbrother, my own sister locked me in the sterilization cabinet. My stepbrother, Denis, was torturing a kitten, holding a lighter to its tail. When I screamed at him to stop, my sister, Joelle, decided I was the one who needed to be punished. She shoved me into the industrial-sized sterilization cabinet in our utility room and chained it shut. “Go in there and wash out that filthy mouth of yours!” she’d snarled. “Is this what they teach you at that fancy school? To be so cruel to your own brother?” The heat inside the cabinet was unbearable. I was being boiled alive. My skin blistered and broke as I screamed and begged for mercy, but all I got was her cold, dismissive voice through the thick metal door. “If you can’t even handle a little discomfort, what makes you think you’re worthy of being my brother?” Then she left. She turned her back on me and went to coddle Denis. I could feel my own flesh cooking, the chemical, fishy smell of the sterilizing agent choking me, filling my lungs. A week later, they returned from their vacation. And they finally remembered me. “Now that he’s had time to cool off, I suppose I can let Finn out.” She didn’t know that my body had already rotted away, fused to the metal walls. I was never getting out. 1 “That little brat hasn’t bothered me for days. Looks like he’s finally learned his lesson,” Joelle mused, her fingers tracing the delicate bracelet Denis had given her. A faint smile played on her lips. “He tried that hunger strike nonsense on me before, threatening to disown me. I just locked him in his room for three days, and he came out crying and begging on his knees.” “For him to be quiet for a whole week…” The bodyguard standing beside her shifted, his voice trembling slightly as he spoke. “Miss Vance… sir… he’s… I think he’s still locked inside.” Joelle’s hand froze. A flicker of unease crossed her features, but it was quickly replaced by her usual mask of indifference. “It’s good for a boy to face a little hardship.” The bodyguard’s face went rigid. After a moment of hesitation, he tried again. “There’s… there’s been no sound from in there for a long time. Maybe you should… open it and check?” Joelle shot him a look as cold as ice. “I said it’s fine!” “He’s just playing games. Trying to manipulate me. The moment I go to check on him, he’ll start his act all over again.” The bodyguard’s words died in his throat. Just then, Denis walked in from the garden. Hearing Joelle, he wrapped his arms around her and leaned his head on her shoulder. “You’re the best sister in the world,” he said, his voice sweet and innocent. Joelle’s expression softened instantly. She smiled and ruffled his curly hair. “You little fool. You’re the only brother I’ll ever need.” Denis looked up at her, his eyes wide and guileless. “I won’t let you protect me forever. I’m going to grow up fast and be the one to protect you.” “Good boy,” she cooed. “I knew you were worth it.” He let out a dramatic sigh. “It’s all my fault. Finn must think I stole your love away from him. That’s why he hates me so much.” Joelle patted his shoulder comfortingly. “He’s just petty and small-minded. It has nothing to do with you.” “It’s been a week, though,” Denis said, his voice laced with false concern. “You should let him out. I’m sure he’s learned his lesson by now.” If I had been alive to hear those words, I would have lunged at Denis, ready to tear his mask away. And then Joelle would have punished me for it. But now, I felt nothing. Because I was already dead. In the final, agonizing moment, as the heat melted the last of my flesh, my soul finally broke free from that steel coffin. I watched as my own body, charred and unrecognizable, remained fused to the interior. The heavy iron chain was still wrapped around the door, secured with a massive padlock. There had been no escape. At first, I had thrown myself against the door, screaming, begging. When that failed, I had curled into a corner, trying to shield myself from the searing UV lamps. But it was a 360-degree sterilizer. There was nowhere to hide. My skin peeled away in sheets. The pain… it was unimaginable. I made one last, desperate attempt, hurling my body against the door with all my remaining strength. That’s when I heard Joelle’s voice, muffled but clear. “Can’t take it anymore?” “Denis was so traumatized by your vicious words that he threw himself into the freezing fountain pool. He has a raging fever, it almost turned into pneumonia.” “Today, I’m going to teach you the lesson our dead parents never could.” I cried. I apologized for things I had never done. I would have said anything to make her let me out. But the heat was relentless. It cooked my flesh until it slid from my bones and sizzled on the hot floor below, turning to a bloody slurry. My arm was already stripped bare, a skeleton’s limb. Just before I lost consciousness, I heard her command to the bodyguard. “Get the chains. Lock it tight.” “No one opens this without my permission. This time, he needs to learn his lesson. For good.” Despair, absolute and final, consumed me. I heard the rattle of the chains as they were wound around my tomb. And I felt the cold grip of death tighten around my throat. 2 “Go unlock the cabinet for Finn,” Joelle ordered coolly. “Tell him if he doesn’t want this to happen again, he’ll come and apologize to Denis properly.” The bodyguard opened his mouth, then closed it again. He simply bowed and left the room. Denis tugged at Joelle’s arm. “Sister, once Finn apologizes, let’s just forget about it. You should be nice to him, so he doesn’t feel left out.” He added, his voice a soft whisper, “If he leaves, you won’t have any family left.” A look of contempt flashed in Joelle’s eyes, but she smoothed it over with a fond pat on Denis’s head. “It would be better if he left. A person with such a vile mouth doesn’t deserve to be my brother.” “If it weren’t for the horrible things he said to you, you wouldn’t have gotten so sick. Denis, you’re just too kind, too soft-hearted. That’s why he’s always bullying you.” A fire of rage burned in her eyes, but it vanished the moment Denis looked at her, as if she were afraid the very heat of her anger might harm him. I thought being dead meant I couldn’t feel pain anymore. But watching this, an old, familiar ache returned, and ghostly tears fell from my eyes. A week ago, for Joelle’s birthday, I had bought her a little orange kitten, a surprise. But I found Denis in the garden, holding a lighter to its tail. He’d looked up at me with a smirk. “Don’t think that just because you found a cat that looks like her old one, you can win her back from me.” I had flown into a rage, shielding the terrified animal and screaming at him. Joelle had walked in at that exact moment. Denis immediately burst into tears and threw himself into the icy fountain in the courtyard. It was the middle of winter. He was wearing a thick, absorbent cotton jacket, and he sank like a stone. When they pulled him out, he was pale and barely breathing. “Sister,” he’d gasped, his voice a faint whisper. “If Finn can’t accept me… if he wants me to die… then I will.” “My only regret is that I won’t get to protect you. You have to take care of yourself, sister. In the next life, I want to be your brother again.” That day, Joelle canceled everything. She carried Denis to the hospital in her arms, not even bothering with an umbrella as the cold rain soaked her to the bone. In the end, Denis was diagnosed with an acute case of the flu. I stood outside the hospital room, watching her clutch his hand, her voice a desperate plea. “Denis, please. Please get better. Don’t leave me all alone…” It was laughable. My own sister, my flesh and blood. A powerful, commanding woman who ran a corporate empire, now acting out a deathbed drama over a common cold with a complete stranger. It was only when she was dragging me by the hair, shoving me into that sterilization cabinet, that I finally understood. In her heart, Denis was her only brother. And I… I was nothing. “How could I have a brother with such a filthy, disgusting mouth?” she’d screamed at me. “Denis almost died! Even when he recovers, he’ll be weak for a long time!” “I’m telling you, Finn, don’t think for a second that just because we share the same blood, you can do whatever you want!” “You’ll stay in there until Denis is better. You’ll stay in there until you learn to be sorry!” And to make sure I learned my “lesson,” she had the bodyguard chain the door shut. And now, only because Denis was in a good mood, she was deigning to let me out. She didn’t know. I was never getting out.

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1 It happened on game night. The words tumbled out of Sheldon’s mouth, a casual, devastating confession: “It feels so good to be a dad.” The room went dead silent. The cheerful buzz of a moment ago evaporated, replaced by a thick, suffocating tension. Every eye in the room darted not to him, but to me. In their gazes, I saw no shock. Only a pained, unspoken pity. In that instant, I knew. They all knew. I was the only fool left in the dark. My hand trembled as I set down my wine glass, fighting to keep my composure. My voice was barely a whisper, but I forced the question out. “How many months?” Sheldon snapped back to reality as if waking from a dream, scrambling toward me. In his panic, he knocked over a bottle. It shattered, and he stumbled right over the shards, his bare feet instantly slick with blood. He didn’t seem to notice. He wrapped his arms around me, his body shaking. “Penny, the baby was an accident! I swear!” The words pierced my heart like a shard of glass from the bottle he’d just broken. “So it’s true… you cheated,” I breathed, the reality of it suffocating me. I pictured those same arms holding another woman, and a wave of nausea washed over me. I shoved him away, hard, and ran. Sheldon chased me to the door, but his phone rang. He stopped, answering it instantly. Even from a distance, I heard the cloying, sweet voice on the other end. “Sheldon… the baby misses you…” A bitter acid rose in my throat. I fled faster into the cold night. I don’t know how long I ran, the frigid wind a brutal shock against my thin sweater. I finally stumbled into a department store, desperate to buy a coat. A sales associate stared at me, her expression hesitant. “Excuse me… are you Penny Vance?” Before I could answer, a nearby shopper scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Please. It’s just a look-alike. Sheldon Vance worships his wife. You think he’d let the real Penny run around in this weather, freezing in a thin sweater, buying her own coat?” I managed a bitter, hollow laugh. I paid for the coat and walked out in silence. On the massive screen blanketing the side of the building, a replay of Sheldon’s recent TV interview was broadcasting to the entire city square. On camera, his voice was thick with emotion, his eyes glistening. “This year marks a decade with my wife. Ten years ago, when I had nothing, she stood by me. She even… she even lost our first child to save my life…” He choked back a sob, his gaze fixed on the camera as if he were looking right at me. “Penny is the one and only love of my life. In three days, I’m throwing her the wedding of the century, a renewal of our vows, so the whole world can witness how much I adore her.” Passersby stopped to watch, their faces soft with admiration. They praised him, calling him the poster boy for devoted husbands. Yes, everyone thought Sheldon Vance loved me to the bone. Until today, I thought so too. How could a man who loved me so much possibly cheat? I wandered out of the mall like a ghost, my mind numb, and then I saw it. Sheldon’s car, parked by the curb, waiting. I stood there, the wind whipping at me, a war raging in my chest. My feet slowed, a toxic, treacherous hope blooming within me. What was I even hoping for? That he was here for me? That this was all some horrible misunderstanding he could explain away? I hated myself for that flicker of weakness. I didn’t know if I could face him, but I couldn’t run anymore. Taking a deep breath, I started toward the car, each step a crushing weight on my heart. Just then, he got out. He didn’t come to me. He walked briskly to the passenger side and opened the door. A young woman, visibly pregnant, hopped out with a youthful bounce. The snow was thick on the ground, and she grabbed his arm, whining playfully. Without a second thought, Sheldon scooped her halfway into his arms, carefully shielding her designer shoes from the slush. “Thank you, Sheldon. You know how much I hate the cold.” For ten years, Sheldon had been an iceberg to every woman but me. He said it was to make me feel secure, to prove his love was undivided. His warmth, he’d always said, was reserved for me alone. Now, here I was, shivering in a thin coat, while he doted on another woman. I just watched, my stare so intense he finally felt it. His head snapped up. Our eyes met across the snowy street. His first reaction was a flicker of panic, his eyes darting away. The woman in his arms suddenly seemed to be a hot iron he couldn’t drop fast enough. He set her down and rushed toward me. He cupped my face with his hands, his thumbs stroking my frozen cheeks, his expression a mask of pure concern. “Penny, God, you’re freezing.” The worry in his eyes was so real, so familiar, that for a split second, my resolve wavered. But then I saw her, standing behind him. The woman with the swollen belly, one hand cradling it protectively, her head tilted in a look of blatant challenge. She was a living, breathing reminder that my life was a joke. I pulled away from Sheldon’s touch, taking two steps back. It felt like I was using my last ounce of strength to ask the question. “Who is she?” In that moment, I gambled everything—our ten years, our history, my entire heart—on his answer. It was my final, desperate bet. If he just denied it. If he would just look me in the eye and tell me that child wasn’t his, I would have believed him. I would have erased this entire nightmare and taken him back. But a soft, distinct sob carried across the cold air from the other woman. It was the sound of my last hope shattering. A pained look crossed Sheldon’s face. He let out a heavy sigh, and the words that destroyed my world fell from his lips, heavy and clear. “The baby… is mine.” My hand reacted before my mind could, slapping his away. My nails dug into my own palm, drawing blood. “Penny!” He grabbed my hand, prying my fingers open, his face a mess of panic and pain. “Hit me, scream at me, do anything, but please don’t hurt yourself.” He was almost begging. I remained silent, the agony in my chest too vast for words. Seeing my stony expression, he suddenly raised a hand and slapped himself across the face. Twice. Hard. Red welts bloomed instantly on his cheek. That’s when the girl, Emma, rushed forward, placing herself between us, shielding him. Her voice trembled, but her words were firm. “Miss Vanderbilt, my name is Emma. Sheldon and I… we were both victims in this. Please, don’t blame him!” Her eyes were wet with tears, but she stood her ground like a loyal protector. Sheldon’s face hardened. His voice was ice. “Penny is my wife. You will address her as Mrs. Vance.” Emma flinched, but her chin lifted with defiance. “Mrs. Vance, you’re a woman. You should understand. I’m only twenty-two. If it wasn’t for Sheldon’s mother… I would never have wanted to keep this baby!” Her words hung in the air. Sheldon’s gaze, which had been locked on me, flickered involuntarily toward Emma. And in that split second, as his focus shifted from me to her, I knew. It was over. 2 In the end, Sheldon had his executive assistant take Emma home. He drove me. The silence in the car was heavy, suffocating. He finally broke it, telling me the story. It happened last year, at the company gala. A competitor had drugged his drink. Emma, an intern, had “accidentally” wandered into his suite. He paid her a substantial sum for her silence afterward and had never seen her again. He never imagined she would get pregnant. And when his mother found out, she was adamant about keeping the child. I knew his mother’s stubbornness all too well. Shortly after we were married, we were in a horrific car accident. The car plunged into an icy reservoir. In the chaos, Sheldon shielded me with his own body. Shards of glass were embedded in his back, and his legs were pinned by the crushed seat. He fought through the pain to wake me from my unconscious state, urging me to escape first. But how could I leave him? I stayed, holding his head above the frigid water, trying to keep his wounds from being submerged. By the time the rescue team arrived, I had been soaking in that bone-chilling water for what felt like an eternity. Sheldon recovered quickly. I, on the other hand, lost our baby in the aftermath and was told that carrying another to term would be nearly impossible. From that day on, Sheldon’s love for me seemed to deepen into something sacred. He said we had faced death together, that nothing could ever tear us apart. His mother, however, never forgave my inability to give her a grandchild. Now, faced with this unexpected heir, I could easily imagine the lengths she would go to protect him. In the car, Sheldon reached for my hand, his voice thick with guilt. “Penny, it was a terrible mistake, an accident…” I looked him straight in the eye and asked the only question that mattered. “The baby, or me? You have to choose.” He fell silent. His silence was an answer louder than any confession. It was a hammer blow to my heart, an invisible wall slamming down between us. I knew, in that moment, that our marriage was broken beyond repair. I pulled my hand from his grasp and stared out the window at the glittering city lights. Our love had burned brightly for ten years, but like the fading day, its grand finale had finally arrived. When we got home, he gently took my arm. He wouldn’t meet my eyes. “It’s late and you’re cold. Let me make you some soup to warm you up. I don’t want you to get a stomachache.” I said nothing, walking straight to our bedroom and locking the door behind me. A few moments later, a soft knock. “Penny? Please let me in. Just let me hold you. I’m so worried about you.” I pulled the covers over my head and willed the world away. When I woke up the next morning, my gaze fell on the calendar. A huge red circle was drawn around today’s date. My eyes burned with fresh tears. Today was the tenth anniversary of my mother’s death. Before she passed, she’d made me promise that on this day, I would visit her with my husband and children. When I told Sheldon about it years ago, he took it to heart. He’d made this calendar himself, marking the date with that big, bold circle. “Penny,” he’d said, his voice filled with a joy that felt so real, “the fact that you want me to meet your mother means everything to me. I’d move heaven and earth to be there. I’d crawl there if I had to.” Now… I wasn’t so sure. I stared at the closed door. It suddenly swung open. Sheldon stood there, looking haggard, his eyes bloodshot. “You had a key. Why didn’t you come in last night?” I asked, my voice cold. He gently tucked the blanket around me. “You wouldn’t have been able to sleep. I’m fine, I can handle one sleepless night.” A pang of grief hit me, and the words tumbled out. “Do you remember what day it is?” Sheldon looked at me, his expression serious. “Penny, how could I forget? It’s the day we visit your mother. I would forget anything in the world before I forgot this.” We got ready to leave. Just as we were about to walk out the door, his phone rang. His body went rigid. I could see the panic flash in his eyes as he answered. He didn’t put it on speaker, but I heard her cry clearly. “Sheldon! I fell! My stomach—it hurts so much! Help me!” He turned to me, his face a mask of desperation, his eyes pleading. “Penny, I’ll just go check on her. I swear, I’ll be right back. I promise I’ll make it.” He turned and ran. I lifted a hand to wipe my eyes, but the tears wouldn’t stop falling. I went to the cemetery alone. I stayed until dusk, talking to my mother for hours, the silent gravestone a better confidant than my husband had been. When I returned home, I started packing. It was late, past midnight, when Sheldon finally came back. He wrapped me in his arms from behind, burying his face in my hair, murmuring “I’m sorry” over and over again. I let him hold me. I didn’t say a word. In his arms, our world felt cleaved in two. His embrace was warm and familiar, but my heart had never felt so cold, so distant. 3 The next morning, sunlight streamed through the curtains, illuminating an empty space on the bed beside me. Sheldon was gone. A wave of nausea and unease washed over me, and I drove myself to the hospital. When the doctor laid the positive pregnancy test results in front of me, I started to laugh, a broken, hysterical sound that was drowned out by my own tears. The doctor watched me with sympathetic eyes. “Are you a single mother?” she asked gently. “Have you decided if you’ll be keeping the baby? Given your medical history, carrying this pregnancy to term will be extremely difficult.” I couldn’t answer. I left the hospital in a daze and drove to the first apartment Sheldon and I had ever shared—our pre-marital love nest. But when I stepped inside, my blood ran cold. Emma was there. She looked at me, her expression a mix of feigned timidity and blatant provocation. “Well, well. Did you come here to secretly record me, sister? Hoping to get something you can use to drive a wedge between me and Sheldon?” She pulled out a small electronic scanner and insisted on sweeping it over my body. I let out a cold laugh. “You’re the one making threats in the shadows. What right do you have to accuse anyone else?” Once she confirmed I wasn’t wearing a wire, her timid mask dropped. “So what if I am?” she sneered, her voice dripping with contempt. “Your husband still wants me. You’re going to lose, and I’m going to win.” She flung the door open wider, gesturing around the apartment with a triumphant sweep of her arm. “I heard this was your little love nest. So romantic,” she purred. “But Sheldon’s mother said it was the perfect, quiet place for me to rest during my pregnancy, so he let me move in. You’re not mad, are you?” She trailed a hand over a sleek, modern armchair. “He was so worried I might bump into the old furniture and hurt the baby. So he had every single piece replaced. All in my favorite style, of course~” My eyes scanned the room. It was completely unrecognizable. A bitter bile rose in my throat, choking me. Memories flooded back, sharp and painful. The day he proposed, Sheldon had gotten down on one knee right here, in this room, and placed the only key in my hand. “Penny,” he had vowed, “no one else will ever step foot in this apartment. This place holds the memory of our love. It’s our world, just for the two of us.” This place was supposed to be our sanctuary. And he had handed it over to another woman. All the strength drained from my body. I sagged against the doorframe, the world tilting around me. Emma watched me, her eyes gleaming with a sick mixture of jealousy and hatred. I was helpless, drowning in a sea of despair in the very place that was supposed to be my safe harbor. “So how much longer are you going to cling to the title of Mrs. Vance?” Emma taunted, her voice sharp. “Can’t you see how much Sheldon adores me and our child? Can’t you see he’s already chosen us?” Cling? A bitter laugh escaped my lips. I felt hollowed out. Suddenly, my eyes darted to an empty corner of the living room. My mother’s portrait. It was always there. Now, the space was bare. “Where is my mother’s portrait?!” My voice cracked, rising with disbelief and panic. Emma waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, that morbid thing? Sheldon tossed it out, of course.” My glare was so intense that she finally, reluctantly, retrieved the framed photo from a closet. Then, right in front of me, a cruel smirk spread across her face. With a flick of her wrist, she let the frame drop. It hit the hardwood floor with a sickening crash, the glass shattering into a thousand pieces. I stared, frozen in a state of pure, unadulterated rage. But Emma was already collapsing to the floor, clutching her stomach and letting out a theatrical wail of pain. “Aah! My stomach! It hurts!” Her cries were a distant buzz in my ears. I lunged for the floor, desperately trying to gather the shards of my mother’s photo. Just as my fingers touched the broken glass, the door burst open and a furious roar filled the room. “Penny, why would you push her?!” I looked up from the floor, my hands bleeding, to see Sheldon. He hadn’t even looked at me. His eyes were locked on Emma. In a flash, he was scooping her into his arms and rushing out of the apartment. I stared down at my bloody hands, at the wreckage of my mother’s face on the floor. Our ten-year marriage wasn’t just a joke. It was a tragedy. I slowly, mechanically, began to clean up the mess. Soon after, his mother arrived. She stormed in and slapped me, hard, across the face. “You barren hen! If anything happens to my grandson, I will make you pay!” Sheldon, who had returned, quickly stepped between us. He finally rushed to my side, gently unwrapping the clumsy bandages I’d wrapped around my fingers and meticulously disinfecting the cuts. Seeing his mother was about to start another tirade, Sheldon said curtly, “She’s going into labor.” His mother’s face changed instantly, and she hurried out. Once she was gone, Sheldon watched me, his expression cautious. He chose his words carefully. “Penny, I know Emma is young and she upset you, but you shouldn’t have pushed her.” “I pushed her?” The words were incredulous, empty of feeling. “It’s okay, it’s okay. She won’t hold it against you,” he said, and though he didn’t say it outright, his words were a clear defense of her. He had already chosen a side. A profound exhaustion washed over me. I had no energy left to argue, to explain. In the contest between me and Emma, he had already chosen to believe her. Ten years of marriage meant nothing against a woman he’d known for less than a year. I watched him as he carefully tended to my wounds, his focus clearly elsewhere. I remembered the flicker of joy in his eyes when he’d said she was in labor.

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This weekend, my husband and I were invited to a charity auction. During the bidding, my husband’s secretary and I both set our sights on the same oil painting. Just as I was preparing for a fair contest, my husband publicly signaled his unlimited support for his secretary, effectively declaring he would outbid anyone for her. “Jeannie,” she sneered, “you’re nothing but a pet my family keeps on a leash. What right do you have to compete with me?” As the other guests began to drop out of the bidding, I snapped my fingers at the auctioneer. “Whatever Mr. Posehn is offering,” I said, my voice ringing clear, “I’ll bid… one dollar more.” 1 A hush fell over the room as every guest turned to stare at me. A moment later, it was broken by a wave of derisive laughter. “Is this woman out of her mind? She’s bidding against her own husband. Does she have money to burn?” “It’s not just that she’s lost her mind—she never had one to begin with. A mere trophy wife daring to challenge Vincent Posehn in public. She has no idea who she’s dealing with.” “I heard before I came that Mr. Posehn picked up a pretty little thing years ago and has been keeping her at home. I never thought I’d actually see her in person.” As the murmurs grew louder, Vincent’s face grew darker. He shot to his feet, pointing a finger at me as his voice boomed across the hall. “Jeannie, put your hand down this instant! Do you hear me?” He was practically seething. “You’re spending my family’s money! How dare you compete with me?” I leaned back in my chair, my expression a mask of calm, and met his furious gaze. “Vincent, I am, for better or worse, your wife. A little respect wouldn’t kill you.” My eyes narrowed. “Why should I have to give up something I want for someone else?” My voice dropped, taking on a steely edge. “And for the record, I have never spent a single dime of your family’s money. Don’t you dare suggest otherwise.” Vincent’s face flushed a deep, mottled red. “Jeannie, have I not told you to call me Mr. Posehn in public? You are nothing but a pet on our payroll! We have no real relationship!” I let out a soft sigh, my eyes locked on his. “So, Mr. Posehn, are you truly going to fight me over this… for your little secretary?” The truth was, I’d sensed something was wrong the moment I walked in. As Vincent’s wife, I should have been seated beside him. Instead, I was relegated to a forgotten corner. I had swallowed my pride. After all, old Mr. Posehn, Vincent’s father, had always been kind to me, even inviting me to play chess with him from time to time. A good woman should know when to tolerate her husband’s foolish ego. But I never imagined that my seat would be occupied by Vincent’s secretary, Jenna. A fresh college graduate whose only remarkable quality was her youth. And yet, here was my idiotic husband, ready to go to war for her. The thought sent a blaze of anger roaring through me. But the so-called rising star of the business world was too self-absorbed to notice. He continued his tirade. “Who the hell do you think you are, Jeannie? I don’t need your permission to do anything. You’ve spent years eating our food, living in our house. What could you possibly have to fight me with?” His voice rose to a fever pitch. “I’m not afraid to tell you right now, I am buying this painting for Jenna!” Before I could even react, the secretary herself couldn’t resist chiming in. She shot me a look dripping with provocation. “Miss Chevalier, I suggest you just give up. If you make Mr. Posehn unhappy, your life might become… difficult.” She paused, a malicious grin spreading across her face. “A trophy wife should know her place, don’t you think, Miss Chevalier?” Jenna’s words drew another round of laughter from the surrounding tables. Even the auctioneer on stage couldn’t hide a smirk. I, however, simply waved a dismissive hand and let out a cold laugh. “So, what I’m hearing, Miss Jenna, is that you’re determined to go against me today?” Jenna’s smile turned wicked, her eyes filled with contempt. “Miss Chevalier, it’s not that I’m trying to be cruel. But you’re a housewife. You don’t even have a job. How could you possibly compete with me? Mr. Posehn has made a patronage pledge—the sky’s the limit. Do you have that kind of money to follow?” I slowly lifted my head and offered her a serene smile. “You’re wrong, Jenna. You and I are nothing alike.” My voice was soft, but it carried across the silent room. “I don’t need a man to buy me things.” Her statement was met with a fresh wave of mockery. “My God, the nerve of this girl. She probably wouldn’t have even gotten through the door if not for Mr. Posehn.” “Exactly! She’s only here because she married into the Posehn family.” “Who would even bother with her if not for him? Auctioneer, just call it. Let’s not waste any more of our time.” The taunts swirled around me, but they didn’t touch me. Because every word I said was the truth. If I wasn’t trying to save Vincent a shred of dignity, I could have stood up and announced that the Posehn Corporation itself belonged to me. Seeing my silence, the secretary grew even bolder. “See? I told you. A woman with no power should just stay at home. Now you’ve made a fool of yourself.” Before Jenna could finish, I slowly raised my bidding paddle. “Who said I was backing down?” My voice was a silken threat. “It’s just money. Darling, that’s the one thing I have plenty of.” 2 Every eye in the room was now fixed on me. Even the auctioneer on stage was frozen, unsure of what to do next. He probably knew I didn’t have the money, but professional courtesy dictated that he couldn’t drop the hammer as long as there was an active bidder. Vincent’s roar echoed through the hall. “Jeannie! You’re really determined to make an enemy of me today, aren’t you?” I shot a glance at the smug secretary standing beside him and answered with cold, hard finality. “Yes.” The single word hung in the air. Vincent bellowed, his voice raw with fury. “Fine! Fine! Let’s see just how much money you have to fight me with!” He thrust his paddle into the air without a moment’s hesitation. “Ten million dollars!” Anyone familiar with auctions knows that a patronage pledge is a point of no return. You either see it through to the end, or you declare financial ruin. If Vincent was willing to gamble his entire company for a secretary, then I was more than happy to play along. “Ten million… and one dollar.” My voice was calm. Heads snapped in my direction. I could read the ridicule on their faces; they were all waiting for the punchline to this spectacular joke. No one here knew I was the silent force behind the Posehn Corporation. Years ago, when the Posehn family was on the brink of bankruptcy, its patriarch, Arthur Posehn, had appeared on my doorstep late at night, clutching a marriage contract, begging me to save his family. To repay a debt owed to a previous generation, I had gritted my teeth and married his son, Vincent. But this man, my husband, had never shown me an ounce of respect. He humiliated me daily, and now he dared to pledge his fortune to another woman right in front of my face. It was a slight I simply could not swallow. “You bitch, do you even have the money to back that up?” Jenna’s voice was shrill now, her composure cracking as she saw me stand my ground against her boss. “This is a high-end auction, not a flea market! Don’t say I didn’t warn you—if you can’t pay up, you’ll go to jail!” I looked up at her and smiled sweetly. “Jenna, whether I have money or not is none of your concern. I’d be more worried about your boss if I were you. There’s no backing out of a game like this.” My words seemed to ignite the last of Vincent’s restraint. He shot to his feet, paddle held high. “How dare you lecture my people, Jeannie? You want to play? Let’s see what you’ve really got in that purse of yours!” He roared, his voice shaking the crystal chandeliers. “I’ll raise it another ten million! Twenty million total!” A collective gasp went through the room. This was a charity auction, after all. The items were valuable, but none were worth tens of millions. The painting in question was the work of a child, not an old master. “Mr. Posehn, how generous!” I said, clapping slowly as I rose to my feet. “On behalf of the children in underprivileged communities, I thank you.” I paused, a slow smile spreading across my lips. “But… since this is for charity, more is always better, isn’t it?” As the room watched in stunned silence, I slowly extended a single, elegant finger. “Twenty million… and one dollar.” 3 No one in that room could have predicted I would dare to defy Vincent so brazenly. The looks they gave me were a mixture of shock and morbid curiosity. Every person here was a titan of industry. Vincent himself had only earned a seat at this table because of the Posehn Corporation’s recent meteoric rise. From the look in his eyes, I could tell he was enjoying this. He relished the opportunity to put me in my place. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he announced, his voice dripping with false sincerity. “Let me be clear. While this woman is legally my wife, she and I have no real connection. If she is unable to produce the funds later, the Posehn Corporation will not be held responsible.” I almost laughed out loud. “Vince, I wouldn’t be so quick to cut ties,” I said, my voice dangerously sweet. “After all, you’re the only one here who made such a grand patronage pledge. If you can’t pay up, you might find yourself begging me to bail you out.” My words were a direct challenge. The secretary, Jenna, couldn’t stand it. She shot up from her seat. “Jeannie, are you daydreaming? You, a mere housewife, presuming to compare yourself to the entire Posehn Corporation? You’re delusional.” I just shook my head, my composure unshaken. “It might be hard for you to believe right now, but it’s the truth. If you don’t believe me, by all means, let your Mr. Posehn test that theory.” Jenna raised an eyebrow, a sneer twisting her lips. “Fine. Let’s see. A woman who doesn’t even know her own worth has no business acting so high and mighty in front of me.” I didn’t let her words faze me. In fact, I felt a strange sense of calm. “I’m sorry, but we’re not the same. I, Jeannie Chevalier, have never needed a man’s money to buy anything I want.” As soon as I spoke, the guests who recognized me from past events started whispering again. “Please, anyone can talk big. If she were that powerful, why would she be content as a housewife?” “Exactly. Mr. Posehn is a rising star with a net worth in the hundreds of millions. What is she?” “She’s nothing but a clown, desperate for attention. Let’s just ignore her.” I slowly rose to my feet, my gaze sweeping across the entire room. “Everyone, listen closely,” I said, my voice cutting through the noise. “It’s not just the Posehn family I look down on. It’s every single one of you in this room.” I may not be a businesswoman, but I know how to be a decent human being. From the moment I entered this hall, these so-called titans of industry had been more interested in kissing up to Vincent than in the charity they were supposedly here to support. My declaration made me the target of everyone’s fury. Even the auctioneer had had enough. “Ma’am, we do not welcome people like you at this event.” I slowly tilted my head, looking up at the stage. “Oh? And what kind of person am I? Please, do tell.” Before the auctioneer could answer, Jenna stormed onto the stage and snatched the microphone from his hand. “Jeannie Chevalier, you are a nobody!” Her voice, amplified by the speakers, filled every corner of the room. The business magnates rose to their feet, applauding in agreement. Even Vincent, who had been silent for some time, watched me with a look of malicious glee. Seeing the scene before me, I had a moment of stunning clarity. The decision I’d made to save the Posehn family all those years ago had been an act of monumental foolishness. I remained silent for a long moment. Jenna, thinking I was finally intimidated, raised the microphone again. “Hey, you! Now you see why Mr. Posehn doesn’t want you sitting next to him, don’t you?” She leaned into the microphone, her voice rising to a triumphant shriek. “Because… you’re not worthy!”

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Eight years into our marathon of love, Ava Harrison said she was finally ready to announce our engagement to the world! Overjoyed, I called my mother, telling her to come to the city for our engagement party. To ensure she wouldn’t be looked down upon by my future in-laws, my mother took out all her savings to buy an exquisite, custom-tailored silk dress and got ready with the utmost care. But when the moment of the announcement arrived, Ava stood on the banquet stage, her arm intimately linked with her male assistant, Ryan. “Tonight, besides celebrating a major new project for the company, I have another wonderful piece of news to share,” she announced, her voice ringing through the hall. “I have decided to marry… Ryan!” As her words fell, every head in the room turned to me. Their eyes were filled with mockery, pity, and contempt. My mother, confused, stood up and asked, “Marcus, didn’t you say tonight was your engagement party with Ava?” I looked at Ava, hoping for an explanation from her own lips. But in the next second, her voice cut through the air, cold and sharp. “A country bumpkin thinking he can marry a princess. Utterly ridiculous.” 1 After she spoke, Ava didn’t spare me another glance. She and Ryan descended from the stage, mingling warmly with the guests who were now laughing at my mother and me for not knowing our place. I was left standing there, paralyzed by grief, while my mother began to blame herself. “Son, is it our fault? Did we hold you back? Is it because of your humble beginnings that they look down on you?” I wanted to comfort her immediately, to tell her no, that even though we came from the countryside, we had built our own wealth with our own two hands and were no less than any of them. But suddenly, my mother clutched her chest and crumpled to the ground, her face so pale it trembled. As she fell, she accidentally bumped into a woman in a tight black dress standing behind her. It was Ryan’s sister, Chloe. “Hey! You old hag! How dare you bump into me and spill wine all over me!” Chloe’s face was a thundercloud. When she looked down at my mother, her voice was pure venom. “Oh, it’s you, the pathetic pauper!” “What, your son isn’t good enough to marry my sister-in-law, so now you’re playing dirty behind her back?” “Do you have any idea how expensive this dress is? It was custom-made for me by Ava herself! You’ve ruined it! You’re going to pay for this!” Before I could stop her, Chloe slapped my mother across the face. “Chloe, stop it!” “I’ll pay for the dress, but my mother didn’t do it on purpose. You apologize to her.” The commotion we were making was loud enough to attract Ava’s attention from across the room. She stormed over with security guards in tow, her face dark. Without even asking what had happened, she began to yell at me. “Marcus, must you ruin everything for me?” “This was supposed to be a perfect evening, and you’ve completely destroyed it!” In her rage, Ava threw the contents of her wine glass in my face. Seeing this, my mother’s self-blame only intensified. She tried to stand up to apologize for me, but the pain in her stomach was so severe she couldn’t even speak. “Ava,” Chloe whined, “it was his mother! She threw wine on me on purpose and said my brother stole you from him!” Hearing Chloe’s blatant lies, my anger boiled over. “You’re lying—” “Apologize!” Ava roared, cutting me off. We had done nothing wrong. We would not apologize. Right now, my only concern was my mother. I knew her chronic stomach condition was flaring up; I had to get her to a hospital. Seeing that my mother had no intention of apologizing, Ava’s fury reached its peak. She ordered the security guards to seize me, trying to force my mother to apologize to Chloe. “Marcus, make your mother apologize to Chloe right now! Everyone is watching!” “Are you determined to humiliate me?” “Ava, my mother’s stomach condition is acting up! Tell them to let go of me! I need to take her to the hospital!” Ryan sauntered over, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Oh, what a coincidence. No stomach problems before, no stomach problems after, but the moment she’s asked to apologize to Chloe, she suddenly has a flare-up. You must think we’re idiots.” “So that’s it! You’re just trying to make a scene!” I started to explain, but Chloe interrupted me. “Since she won’t apologize, let’s just give her a taste of her own medicine.” She suddenly produced a pair of scissors and started walking towards my mother. I struggled frantically, terrified, but I couldn’t break free from the guards’ grip. 2 SNIP! Chloe snipped at the silk of my mother’s dress, tearing at the fabric with her hands. “Ava, make her stop!” This humiliation was worse than death for my mother. She cried and struggled, but she was in too much pain to even resist. In that moment, I felt a profound despair. I had wanted her to come here and celebrate, to be happy. I never imagined she would be subjected to such casual, brutal cruelty. Ava Harrison, I was so wrong about you. A crowd was gathering, but Ava just watched, unmoved. She even leaned back into Ryan’s arms, ignoring my desperate calls. My mother, overwhelmed with shame, gave me one last, deep look, and then the pain became too much, and she fainted. Perhaps sensing the icy chill that emanated from me, Ava finally pulled away from Ryan. She glanced down at my unconscious mother and told Chloe to stop. I kicked the guards away and rushed to my mother’s side. I touched her face, my hands trembling with fear, terrified that something was terribly wrong. I scooped her into my arms and ran. Ava chased after me, blocking my path. “Marcus, I had my reasons for what happened tonight.” “Take Mom home first. I’ll come back later and explain everything.” As Ava turned to leave, I called out to her. “Ava, I don’t care what your reasons are. My mother has fainted. We don’t have a car. You need to drive us to the hospital. Now.” All I wanted was for my mother to be safe. Nothing else mattered. Ava seemed about to agree, but Ryan walked over and wrapped his arms around her. “Ava, don’t go,” he pleaded. “Don’t leave me to face all these guests alone.” Ryan’s plea was all it took. Ava chose to stay. No matter how much I begged, she turned and walked away. Since she was so cold, so indifferent, I stopped begging. I carried my mother out into the night. We were on a hillside, and it was hard to find a taxi. By the time I finally flagged one down and we reached the hospital, my mother had stopped breathing. The doctor said she was brought in too late. If we had arrived just a little earlier, they could have saved her. That night, I held my mother’s body and cried until dawn. Looking at the regret etched on her peaceful face, my own guilt was a crushing weight. I know you can’t turn back time, but I wished with all my soul that I could. Just then, Ryan updated his social media. It was a picture of him and Ava, exchanging engagement rings, locked in a passionate kiss. “I finally get to marry the most beautiful and wonderful woman in the world!” I saw that Ava had liked the post, giving her silent approval. My heart turned to ash. I took the matching ring she had given me years ago and threw it out the window. Then, I left a comment under Ryan’s post: “Wishing you a happy marriage and a long life together.” After that, I turned off my phone. I handled my mother’s funeral arrangements alone, then took her ashes back to our hometown to be buried. Once everything was settled, I returned to the city. There were still loose ends to tie up. When I turned my phone back on, I saw hundreds of missed calls from Ava. My messaging apps were flooded with her texts. I deleted them all. The moment I was done, Ava’s call came through. 3 “You finally turned your phone on! I was starting to think you were dead!” Even through the phone, I could feel Ava’s nervous excitement, and beneath it, a hint of relief. When I didn’t speak, she softened her tone. “My engagement to Ryan… it was because he helped me land a huge project. His only condition was that I agree to an engagement.” “Don’t worry! It’s just an engagement. We’re not actually getting married.” “So you don’t need to be angry anymore. You’re such a jealous one.” I gripped my phone so tightly the veins on the back of my hand bulged. That project—I was the one who had secured it. The client had insisted on a drinking contest with hard liquor. I drank with them until my stomach felt like it was bleeding, but I got the contract signed. While I was recovering in the hospital, Ryan had swooped in and claimed the project as his own. I never had a chance to set the record straight because Ava had announced she was going public with our engagement, and in the excitement, I’d forgotten all about it. What infuriated me even more was that if she had agreed to Ryan’s demand, why didn’t she tell me sooner? I never would have brought my mother to that party. Now, after my mother’s death, I’d had a few days to think. A lot of things had become painfully clear. “Ava, it doesn’t matter. Even if you do marry him, I have no objections.” Ava’s voice immediately rose, her tone sharp. “Marcus, don’t push your luck. I’m not playing these games.” “And stop with the sarcasm. If you don’t, I might just make this engagement real, and you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.” Regret? I laughed, a bitter, hollow sound. The biggest regret of my life was ever being with you. It cost my mother her life. “Fine. I’ll support you completely. I won’t stand in your way.” “And now, I’m breaking up with you.” Ava was stunned into silence. This was the first time since we’d met that I had spoken to her with such coldness, the first time I had ever suggested breaking up. Suddenly, Ryan’s voice, smug and close, came through the phone. “Ava, can you bring me my underwear from the bed? I’m completely naked over here.” “You don’t expect me to walk out like this, do you?” I had already guessed they were living together. This casual, intimate request only confirmed it. I could hear Ava walking over, the rustle of fabric, and then Ryan’s playful voice again. “Why don’t you help me put them on, Ms. Harrison?” Ava agreed without a moment’s hesitation. Then, her voice turned cold as she spoke into the phone. “Marcus, you want to break up? Fine. I’ll grant you that wish.” “But you remember this. When you come crawling back, full of regret, I won’t take you back—” I hung up before she could finish. I didn’t need to guess what they would do next. But for the first time, I felt no pain, no heartbreak. Ava never returned to the home she once claimed was her sanctuary. She used to be so clingy. When I cooked, she would wrap her arms around my waist from behind and wait for her meal. Now, when I looked at the kitchen, all I saw was a cold, empty space. The laughter and joy that once filled it were gone, vanished without a trace. Ava, I’m giving up on you. I rolled up my sleeves and began to purge every trace of her from my life. When I was done, I took a shower and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. The next day at the office, my colleagues looked at me strangely. 4 “Director Cole, you’re finally back!” “You’re still calling him Director? Be careful Director Pierce doesn’t hear you. He’ll have you fired. Didn’t he warn us?” “Marcus’s just Ryan’s assistant now. You should get his title right.” Hearing these whispers, I realized that Ava, for Ryan’s sake, had demoted me without my consent. She had given Ryan my position and made me his assistant. A rage unlike any I had ever felt before surged through me. I stormed into the conference room where Ava was leading a meeting. I dragged her out into the hallway. “What is the meaning of this?” Ava bit her lip and pulled her hand away, unable to meet my eyes. “I just think Ryan is a better fit for the position.” I laughed, a strangled, incredulous sound. From the day this company started, I had worked like a dog for her, tirelessly building the business. Where was Ryan then? He was nothing but a useless parasite who relied on women to get ahead. And now she wanted me to be an assistant to that waste of space? Was he even worthy? If it hadn’t been for her, I would have accepted a high-paying position at a major corporation years ago. But I turned it down to help her build her dream. And for what? So Ryan could reap the rewards. “Come on, it’s not so bad being Ryan’s assistant.” “How about this? When things slow down, I’ll go back to our hometown with you to see Mom. I’ll apologize to her.” I stared at her as she prattled on, and the woman before me became more and more of a stranger. The love I once felt for her scattered like stardust, gone forever. “Ava, my mother is not fortunate enough to receive a visit from you.” “And when I said I was breaking up with you that night, I meant it. And my resignation, right now, is also real.” Ava froze, then her brow furrowed in annoyance. “Marcus, how long are you going to keep this up?” “I’m not keeping anything up. I’ve just seen things more clearly. Isn’t it better for me to get out of your way?” Ava’s face flushed with anger. Just as she was about to speak, Ryan walked out. “You can’t leave yet. The project is secured, but someone still needs to manage it.” “If you walk out, I’ll fire every single employee who came up with you.” “I’m sure you wouldn’t want to see them all unemployed, would you?” I narrowed my eyes, my gaze sharp and dangerous as I looked at Ryan. “And you? Do you agree with this?” I said, my words directed at Ava. She didn’t speak. Her silence was a clear endorsement of his threat. In that second, my heart turned completely to ash. For the sake of my colleagues, I swallowed my pride and stayed. Seeing me relent, Ava smiled, relieved. “That’s better. Just work hard under Ryan. When he gets promoted to manager, I’ll give you your director position back.” “Come on, don’t be angry. I’ve already had a designer create a new custom dress for Mom. I’ll give it to her myself.” After that, Ryan treated me like a dog. One moment he was demanding coffee, the next he was forcing me to give him a massage. When Chloe came to visit, she would join in, ordering me around as well. I kept telling myself to stay calm, not to be impulsive. Because I was secretly contacting the company that had tried to recruit me years ago. I recommended all my former colleagues to them. If Ava didn’t appreciate their talent, I would find them a better stage on which to shine. The other company, recognizing their skills, agreed without hesitation. After I had arranged everything, I received a video call from Ryan. The moment I answered, the sound of grotesque, labored breathing filled my ears. On the screen, Ava had shed her usual icy demeanor. She was writhing beneath Ryan, lost in a shameless act of passion. Strangely, I felt no anger. Looking at her, I felt only a profound sense of calm. It was as if she were a complete stranger. Ryan had sent this to provoke me, to make me lose control and cause a scene, to make Ava hate me even more. But he miscalculated. At that very moment, I was sitting in an airport lounge, about to embark on a journey I had long dreamed of. I blocked and deleted all of Ava’s contact information. By the time Ava and Ryan returned to the office, her new assistant, Chloe, ran up to her. “This is bad, Ava! Marcus and all his people just quit! They didn’t even take their final paychecks!” “And the client for the new project is here. He’s saying he’ll only continue to cooperate if Marcus is managing the project.”

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“Young goddess, are you certain you wish your thread to be cut from the Moirai’s Tapestry? Once the shears fall, you must enter the cycle of rebirth. There is no turning back.” The Acolyte of the Fates was stunned, but he recorded my plea nonetheless. “In seven days, you will pass through the Chasm of Lethe,” he said without looking up. “After that, the name Elara will cease to exist.” “Wait,” he paused, his eyes widening in shock. “Your name is Elara?” Everyone in the Underworld knew that Hades, the King of Shades, had a wife he had cherished for a thousand years. Her name was Elara. I nodded calmly. Only by having my life-thread rewoven could I ensure that he would never find me again. 1 When I walked out of the Hall of Fates, the realm of Hades was being transformed. In just a few hours, the usual gloomy, damp chill had vanished. The dark halls were draped with garlands of pomegranate blossoms, their deep red a startling blush of life in the land of the dead. A newly arrived shade, looking bewildered, asked another, “Is there some kind of celebration? Is Lord Hades taking a new queen?” A passing Fury shot her a disdainful look and scoffed, “You’re so clueless. Our Lord Hades has been married for an eternity! He and his queen have been devoted for nearly a thousand years. In a few days, it will be Lady Elara’s birth anniversary. Lord Hades has been planning the feast for ages!” I walked past them, a silent sigh escaping my lips. Everyone in the Underworld knew that the current king, Kaelen, valued his wife more than his own immortal life. Once, when I had fallen gravely ill, Kaelen had ventured into the River Lethe itself, sacrificing half his divine power to retrieve a single, frozen bloom from its banks to use in my cure. Even before he became the ruler of this realm, he had died for me in the mortal world. After his death, his soul descended here, but he refused to drink the waters of oblivion. He just stood stubbornly by the Stygian Path, waiting. When others asked him why he wouldn’t move on, he would say, “I’m waiting for Elara. In life, I was her man. In death, I am her shade.” Decades later, when my soul finally arrived, Kaelen had already become the formidable King of the Underworld. He welcomed me with the grandest ceremony the realm had ever seen. From then on, every soul and spirit, from the lonely shades in the Asphodel Meadows to Charon himself, envied our divine romance. During countless nights of intimacy, Kaelen would whisper in my ear, “Elara, we will be together for all eternity, our souls forever entwined.” I never doubted his sincerity. It’s just that sincerity can be so fleeting. A month ago, I discovered that Kaelen was hiding another woman—a nymph—in a secluded corner of his domain. Every time he claimed he had “duties to attend to,” he was actually going to be with her. Unbeknownst to me, that nymph had already begun to occupy most of his time. I gave a bitter smile, tuning out the Fury’s gushing account of my “perfect” life with Kaelen, and walked away. Back in our Asphodel Pavilion, I took out a mortal writ of severance. Stroke by stroke, I wrote down my name. Even though Kaelen, as a god, was not bound by such mortal contracts, I followed the old customs. Since I was the one breaking our vow of eternal companionship, this was my final tribute to the love we once shared. Just as I finished the last stroke, a gust of wind swept through the room. Kaelen was back. He smiled, wrapping his arms around me from behind, his voice laced with fatigue. “Elara, my love, what are you writing?” The hand holding the quill trembled slightly. I feigned composure and quickly covered the writ with a fresh sheet of papyrus. Kaelen sensed something was amiss. “I’m sorry, Elara,” he coaxed gently. “There were some unruly souls causing trouble on the Stygian Path. I had to deal with them, so I’m late.” I didn’t expose his lie. I had just come from the Stygian Path myself; it was perfectly calm. He smiled, pulling out a hairpin carved from obsidian and starlight, and gently combed through my long hair. His voice was so soft it could drown a soul. “Don’t be upset, Elara. Let me do your hair for you, shall I?” I remained silent, feeling him lean in to style my hair. In that instant, a faint scent of jasmine washed over me. I turned my head slightly and saw it—a small, red love bite on his collar. Nothing grew in the barren lands of the Underworld but asphodel. Where would the scent of jasmine come from? Kaelen must have traveled to the mortal realm, gathered a large bouquet, and used it to win another’s favor. He had probably just climbed out of that nymph’s bed. My gaze darkened. The real agony was realizing that the moments I thought were filled with happiness were, for him, moments of betrayal. The line between true and false happiness is so hard to discern. Kaelen, oblivious to my turmoil, gently inserted the hairpin. His eyes were full of adoration as he praised me sincerely, “Elara, your skin is fairer than moonbeams. So beautiful.” I forced a smile, covering his eyes with one hand while folding the writ of severance with the other and handing it to him. “A gift for you,” I said. “Just promise me you’ll wait seven days to open it.” Kaelen smiled, taking my hand and agreeing instantly. “Of course. Anything for you, Elara.” I looked into his smiling eyes, thinking to myself: in seven days, the name Elara will be gone from this world forever. 2 The next day, Kaelen cleared his schedule, eager to take me to see fireworks in the mortal realm. The world of the living was vibrant and bustling. A rare spark of excitement lit up my face. If it hadn’t been for Kaelen, I never would have stayed in such a desolate place… but now, it no longer mattered. Kaelen shielded me as we walked through the crowded streets, frequently turning to adjust the hairpin in my hair. A little girl selling flowers ran up to us, her face bright with a smile. “Mister, buy a bouquet for this pretty lady! May you two be happy together forever!” I froze, about to refuse, but Kaelen was already smiling and picking out flowers. After careful consideration, he decided to buy her entire basket. “Wait.” I snapped out of my daze and stopped him. Kaelen looked at me, his eyes full of warmth. “What is it, Elara? You don’t like them?” I nodded, my voice flat. “I don’t like jasmine.” His expression froze instantly, his pupils contracting. He looked… unnatural. He forced a stiff smile. “Elara, I thought jasmine was your favorite. Why the sudden change…?” A sharp pain pierced my heart. Once, to make me happy, he had commanded an entire mortal courtyard to bloom with jasmine just for me. Now, to please another woman, he traveled to the mortal realm to bring her bouquets of it. In that moment, I desperately wanted to ask him: when he gave her jasmine, did he feel even a flicker of guilt? Before I could speak, a young, handsome acolyte rushed out from behind Kaelen and slammed into me. I had no time to dodge and was knocked to the ground. My ankle twisted, swelling instantly. My hands were scraped. The hairpin tumbled out and landed crookedly on the pavement. The acolyte shot me a triumphant glance before turning to Kaelen. “My lord! There are rogue titans stirring in the deepest pits of Tartarus! You must go at once!” Kaelen frowned, a bolt of dark energy shooting from his hand towards the acolyte. But as he recognized the face, he abruptly withdrew the attack. My gaze faltered. I knew this “acolyte.” It was the nymph, Lyra. She was disguised as a man, but it only accentuated her fair, jade-like skin. Kaelen looked at me with a pained expression as he helped me up. “Elara, you go on ahead. I’ll take care of this…” Hearing his words, I hid my injured hand behind my back and answered flatly, “It’s fine. I can go back by myself.” He tenderly wiped a smudge of dirt from my face, then turned and snapped at Lyra, “Be more careful. If you ever harm Elara again, I will have your immortal soul!” He glanced at me guiltily again, then bent down to retrieve the hairpin. Before he could, a group of laughing children ran past, and the hairpin vanished into the crowd. A flash of annoyance crossed Kaelen’s face. He was about to search for it himself when Lyra tugged on his sleeve, her voice soft and cloying. “My lord, we’ll be too late…!” She wasn’t even bothering to disguise her feminine voice anymore, her expression a blatant provocation. Kaelen frowned and roughly shook her hand off, his tone turning to ice. “If you don’t vanish from my sight, I will unmake you.” He channeled his power, and in an instant, her exposed arm turned red and swollen. A flicker of defiance crossed her face, followed by a pout. She turned and left. Once she was gone, Kaelen’s expression softened. “Elara, you look around. I’ll be right back.” I nodded numbly. He lovingly stroked my hair one last time, then ordered two of his guards to stay and find the hairpin. “This hairpin is a symbol of my vow to Elara,” he said, his voice cold. “It must be found.” Listening to his passionate words, I scoffed inwardly. His heart had already changed. Why pretend to care? As his figure disappeared, I silently followed him. I watched as he caught up to Lyra and pulled her fiercely into his arms. His voice was a low growl. “You should not have appeared in front of Elara.” 3 The nymph, still disguised, her eyes red-rimmed, lightly beat against Kaelen’s chest. “I only went to see you because I missed you so much. How could you be so cruel?” “Look,” she pouted, holding up her swollen arm, “don’t I look… alluring in this uniform?” A sliver of sheer, translucent fabric was visible at her cuff. Kaelen’s Adam’s apple bobbed, his eyes darkening. “Want to see what I’m wearing underneath? I know you’ll like it,” she purred. He grabbed her arm, his eyes now clouded with desire. “Don’t tell me… it’s a mortal’s silken finery.” She giggled, burying her head in his chest, cooing, “You’re so wicked!” Laughing and teasing, they disappeared into a secluded pavilion. Their entangled silhouettes danced on the window screen. I stood outside, listening to the sounds of their passion. I watched Kaelen repeatedly kiss her injured hand. A searing pain shot through my own ankle. I looked down to see it swollen beyond recognition. I had already decided to be reborn, to forget. But at this moment, my heart was filled with a bitter ache. A single tear traced a path down my cheek. The soft moans from inside grew louder. I clamped my hands over my ears, but I couldn’t block out the sound. It seeped into my mind, a sharp knife twisting in my heart. I forced myself to limp away, ignoring the agony. My hair was a mess. The hairpin was gone, my ankle was sprained, and I looked utterly pathetic. I desperately told myself this was the last tear I would ever shed for him. When I stumbled back to the Asphodel Pavilion, Kaelen’s two guards were waiting, holding the hairpin. My eyes fell on it, and I suddenly remembered the day Kaelen had proposed. His face had been flushed, but he had looked at me with such sincerity. “Elara, I will be good to you for all of eternity.” I had looked at him, and my heart had soared. From that day on, he had devotedly fulfilled his promise. In the end, he had even died to protect me. Now, the hairpin was still as beautiful as ever, but the man who had made the vow was a stranger. I shook my head, and when I spoke, my voice was steady again. “I don’t want it anymore.” I didn’t want the hairpin, the symbol of our vow. And I didn’t want Kaelen anymore. I fell into a restless sleep, and it was only then that Kaelen returned. He moved quietly, carefully slipping into bed beside me and pulling me into his arms. I kept my eyes closed. He took my cold hands in his and murmured an incantation, warming the room with the very heat of the Phlegethon, the river of fire. In my drowsy state, I felt him almost reverently tuck my cold hands into his own embrace to warm them. A wave of sleepiness washed over me, and I finally drifted off. When I woke up, the space beside me was empty. A handmaiden approached. “Lord Hades has been very busy,” she explained. I nodded, indifferent. Whether he was truly busy or off with Lyra, it no longer mattered. I spent the next few days clearing out the pavilion. Kaelen had given me many things. A lantern that held a captive star, custom-blended incense that smelled of forgotten memories, a lover’s knot woven from my own hair… I packed them all into a box and cast it into the fires of the Phlegethon. As the flames died down, Kaelen pushed open the door. “Elara, what are you burning?” I smiled. “Nothing. Just some useless old things.” He nodded, glancing around the now-empty room. “I’ll find you some new treasures to entertain you in a few days.” I didn’t answer. In a few days, I would be completely free, no longer waiting for him in this dull, lifeless realm. Time was short. I made sure to burn everything. Coincidentally, my birth anniversary and the day my thread was to be cut from the loom were the same.

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We were on the set of a celebrity talk show, my ex and I. The host posed a dramatic question to the panel. “If you knew you were about to die and could only leave one letter, what would you write?” I paused, then wrote down three wishes on the card provided. When it was my turn to share, I read them aloud. “First, I hope everyone forgets me—” A sharp, derisive laugh cut me off. Mario Atkinson’s face was a mask of icy contempt. “Aren’t you full of yourself, Cora?” he sneered. “Who do you think is going to remember you? Who gives a damn if you live or die?” I managed a patient smile and said nothing. He didn’t know. This letter wasn’t a prop for a game. It was my last will and testament. 1 The taping was halfway through, and by now, everyone was used to Mario’s constant digs at me. After his latest barb, the host just laughed it off, smoothing things over with practiced ease. “Mario, always the comedian, hahaha.” He then turned to me, his voice gentle. “Cora, would you mind sharing the rest of your letter?” I nodded, my expression carefully neutral. “My second wish is to find a new home for Mochi. And the last is to donate my entire estate to charity.” Sensing the unspoken question, I quickly added, “Mochi is my calico cat.” The other guests nodded in understanding. More accurately, Mochi was our cat. Mario’s and mine. I’d found him on a rainy day, a tiny, shivering thing following my every step. I couldn’t leave him. My work kept me on the road, so when I was away, Mario would look after him. He claimed to hate pets. He’d pinch his nose while cleaning the litter box, muttering under his breath the whole time. But no one took better care of that cat than he did. He’d spend hours researching the best food and a fortune on toys and treats. When we fell apart, he left Mochi with me. As I finished speaking, Mario, right on cue, went in for another kill. He let out a cold, merciless laugh. “Cora, with a list that detailed, you’d better actually be dying.” The other guests had given vague, sentimental answers. Mine, by contrast, was unnervingly specific. The atmosphere turned thick with tension. The host froze, unsure how to salvage the moment. It was Liam, the actor sitting next to me, who broke the silence. “Mario,” he said, his voice low but firm. “Maybe try to keep it classy. We’re on camera.” He then smoothly passed me a bottle of water. I took it, my movements slow. Liam and I had just starred in a hit drama together, and the entire internet was “shipping” us. The studio encouraged us to play it up for the publicity, so I didn’t refuse his gesture of support. Mario’s gaze, however, was fixed on the water bottle in my hand, his eyes burning holes into it. Just as I braced myself for another cutting remark, he lowered his gaze and said something strange. “I’m thirsty.” For a beat, I was confused. Then, I offered him the bottle. He took it, but he didn’t drink. He just toyed with it for a moment before casually tossing it into a nearby trash can. His eyes, full of malice, flicked to Liam. “Sorry,” he said, the word dripping with venom. “I don’t drink that brand.” It was the ultimate power play, a move only someone like Mario could get away with. Backed by the immense wealth of the Atkinson family, he was untouchable. The host, wiping sweat from his brow, cautiously tried to steer the show back on track. “Mario, would you mind showing us what you wrote?” For the first time all night, Mario smiled, looking surprisingly agreeable. “Of course.” But when the camera zoomed in on his card, the host’s breath caught. Mario’s bold, aggressive handwriting filled the screen. Everyone stared, stunned into silence. He had written: “Before I die, I have to take Cora with me.” He smirked, reading the words aloud with a swaggering arrogance that filled the studio. The others looked at me with pity. But my face remained a calm, placid mask. It was only natural that Mario Atkinson hated me. After all, the way I had broken up with him was unforgivable. 2 Mario was fiercely possessive. My career as an actress, however, made intimate scenes with co-stars unavoidable. The show with Liam had a kiss scene. When Mario found out, he went ballistic. He demanded we go public with our relationship, right then and there. But we were in the middle of a massive publicity campaign for the show, centered on my on-screen romance with Liam. From a professional standpoint, it was the worst possible time. I told Mario we had to wait, at least until the show’s run was over. His eyes were bloodshot. He gave me a long, deep look, then turned and walked away without another word. I got swamped with work. By the time I had a moment to breathe and tried to call him, I found he’d blocked me on everything. He refused to see me, vanishing for days. The next I heard of him was a single post on his social media. 【My girlfriend, @CoraScott.】 Those four words nearly crashed the internet. But I didn’t know about it at the time. The day he posted it, I collapsed on set. I woke up a day later in the hospital. “Ms. Scott,” the doctor said, his eyes full of a terrible pity. “I’m so sorry. It’s late-stage cancer.” The words didn’t register at first. There was no screaming, no hysterical crying. Just a profound, hollow silence in my head. Before I could fully process it, my phone rang. My agent. He’d been trying to reach me for two days, afraid to bother Mario, and was now unleashing his fury on me. Why did I go public? I had to deny it, immediately, do damage control. He ranted for half an hour. I didn’t hear most of it. I just kept murmuring, “I’m sorry,” and “I understand,” like an automaton. After I hung up, I sat on the edge of the hospital bed for a long time. This was the moment I should have been calling Mario. Explaining that the show with Liam was filmed two years ago, before he’d even moved back to the country. Explaining that I loved him, truly loved him, and had never crossed a line with anyone else. Explaining that yes, I wanted to tell the world I was his. But now… none of it mattered. How long does someone with late-stage cancer have? Six months? A year? It was all too short. And so, Mario, I can’t drag you down with me. As the last rays of sunset streamed through the window, I finally moved. My fingers found my phone, and I responded to his post. 【This joke isn’t funny, @MarioAtkinson.】 Within an hour, my reply had over a million shares. My fans flooded his comments. Do you have any idea how disgusting this is? Spreading rumors like that! Get out of the industry, you creep. As if our Cora would ever look at you. You got called out. How embarrassing for you. This is sick. Trying to force a woman to be with you? Pathetic. Overnight, he became a laughingstock. Rumors swirled that his family, ashamed of the scandal, was threatening to cut him off. Through it all, Mario said nothing. I expected him to release our old photos, our text messages, anything to prove his innocence. But he did nothing. He just took the abuse, the endless tide of hatred, all of it, alone. Then, he sent me a voice message. For the first time, the proud, arrogant Mario Atkinson sounded… broken. “Cora,” he pleaded, his voice trembling with panic. “Do you love me? Just tell me.” A sob caught in my throat. I squeezed my eyes shut, swallowing the bitter taste of unshed tears. It took a long moment before I could type a steady reply. 【Not anymore.】 He never messaged me again. A man as proud as Mario would never beg. And just like that, without another word, we were over. 3 By the time I came back to myself, the host had managed to wrap up the segment. After a thirty-minute break, we started the second game: Truth or Dare. No one in this industry has a perfectly clean slate, so the “truth” questions were always carefully softball. I was relieved. But during the game, Isabelle, another actress on the panel, kept taking subtle jabs at me. We had a history. We’d competed for the same leading role once, and she’d lost. She’d held a grudge ever since, “accidentally” liking negative posts about me and then offering flimsy, insincere apologies. I was too focused on my work to care. Her antics always felt more pathetic than threatening. Until now. I lost a round, and she looked at me with undisguised malice. “Cora, truth or dare?” “Truth,” I said calmly. Her smile widened. She had been waiting for this. “So, what’s the real story? You and Mario. Was it ever a thing?” The host went strategically silent. Every eye in the room darted between me and Mario. Everyone knew the story. It was Mario’s great public humiliation, the one topic that was absolutely off-limits. And she had just thrown it onto the table. Mario didn’t look angry. His fiery gaze was locked on me, waiting. I lowered my eyes, saying nothing. “Don’t want to answer?” Isabelle taunted after a moment. “Fine. The penalty is ten shots of tequila.” She was determined to corner me. Just then, I looked up, my nails digging into my palms, and forced a light, easy smile. “No,” I said, my voice clear. “We never dated.” A collective gasp went through the room. Mario’s face darkened. A chilling smile touched his lips as he immediately backed me up. “That’s right.” “As if I would ever be with someone like Cora.” But in the next second, his knuckles went white. The wine glass in his hand shattered, the sound echoing in the silent studio. Shards of glass bit into his flesh, staining his hand crimson. He didn’t even flinch, didn’t so much as frown. The room erupted in panicked shouts for a medic. The day’s filming was abruptly cut short. Most of the cast rushed over to check on Mario. But a deep, aching pain was spreading through my body, draining me of all strength. I went back to my room, took my medication, and fell into a heavy sleep. 4 At four in the afternoon, a staffer woke me. We were all gathered together and informed that we would be responsible for making our own dinner. “I hear Cora’s a fantastic cook,” Mario said, his eyes glinting with malice. Of course. It was always about me. I instinctively looked up, my gaze falling on his bandaged right hand. I felt a small flicker of relief. He could still move it. The cut wasn’t too deep. At his comment, the other guests turned to me. “Well then, we’re counting on you for dinner!” Isabelle chirped. “Thanks, Cora!” “I’m a disaster in the kitchen, so I’ll stay out of the way.” “I think I see a guitar over there, I’ll go check it out.” In less than a minute, I was alone. I sighed and started preparing a meal for a dozen people. It was a lot of food. At one point, I turned my back for a second and a pan burst into flames. Before I could panic, Liam appeared out of nowhere and swiftly covered it with a lid. “I can’t cook,” he said with a gentle smile, “but I can definitely wash and chop vegetables. Just tell me what you need.” My eyes stung. “Thank you,” I said, my voice thick with gratitude. With Liam’s help, the work went much faster. Two hours later, the last dish was done. As I carried it to the table, I noticed Mario standing in the shadows, his expression unreadable as he watched me. I had no idea how long he’d been there. The illness had left me so deeply tired. I didn’t have the energy for another confrontation. I just averted my eyes and walked past him. At the dinner table, he started in on me again. He took a bite of food, then immediately spit it out. “So, the ‘great cook’ thing was just another one of your personas, Cora?” he asked, a mocking smirk on his face. For some reason, I just felt weary. How could he not know my cooking? He was the one who used to beg me to cook for him every time he had a day off. He was the one who would always clean his plate, down to the last grain of rice. I looked him straight in the eye, and a genuine, brilliant smile spread across my face. “It’s okay,” I said, my tone as casual as if I were discussing the weather. “If all goes to plan, this will be the last time you ever have to eat my cooking.” The ugly smile froze on his lips. For once, Mario Atkinson was silent. I don’t know what he was thinking, but for the rest of the meal, he ate with a strange intensity. No one else saw it, but under the table, his left hand was trembling uncontrollably. I’d only had a few bites when a wave of nausea hit me. I rushed to the bathroom, retching over the sink. I saw the tell-tale red in the basin and frantically washed it away. When I came out, I ran right into Mario. He stared at my pale face, his expression complicated. “Are you sick?” he asked. A mischievous impulse took over. I leaned in and whispered, “I’m pregnant.” His pupils constricted. He stammered, “Is it… mine?” I laughed softly. “I’m kidding.” “Cora!” he roared. Ignoring his fury, I turned and walked away. Back in my room, I locked the door, and the last of my strength gave out. I collapsed onto the bed. It was a good ten minutes before I could push myself up to take my medicine. Just as I swallowed the last pill, my phone pinged. A message from my mom. 【Honey, why did you send me so much money? Is something wrong?】 My eyes burned. I buried my face in the pillow and typed back. 【Everything’s fine.】 【I’m just heading out of town for a long shoot. It’s going to be a while. Take care of yourself, Mom.】 She didn’t suspect a thing. 【Okay, sweetie. I’ll put this in a savings account for you. By the way, I mailed you some of my homemade nougat. It should be there soon. You know how your blood sugar gets low. Keep some with you.】 She went on and on, fussing over me. To every instruction, I replied with a simple, “Okay.” Years ago, she had left my abusive father with nothing but me. She’d since remarried and built a new, happy life. I couldn’t bear to be a burden to her again.

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1 In the fifth year of my marriage to Paul, I discovered he was secretly planning to divorce me for another woman. And I, fool that I was, still loved him. So, on the very day he was about to serve me the papers, I beat him to it. I handed him the doctor’s confirmation of my pregnancy. That night, Paul stood on the balcony and chain-smoked until dawn. The next day, he broke up with the girl. This fragile peace lasted until I was six months pregnant. That’s when the girl showed up at our front door, a wedding invitation in her hand. “Mr. Crawford,” she said, her voice trembling, “my wedding is tomorrow. If you ask me to stay, just say the word, and I’ll call the whole thing off for you.” With that, she dropped the invitation and fled in a storm of tears. Paul shot up from his chair, ready to chase after her. Watching his back, the back of a man about to abandon me, I clutched my aching belly and my voice cut through the air. “Paul, if you walk out that door today, I’m going to the hospital to have an abortion.” He froze for a heartbeat. But only a heartbeat. Then, he walked out anyway. … I first realized Paul was planning to divorce me when the corporate lawyers started hounding me with paperwork. Changing the company’s legal representative. Switching the corporate bank accounts. He was even trying to offload our properties, selling them at suspiciously low prices. The company’s finances told a similar story. An enterprise that had been thriving just six months ago was now bleeding money, month after month. His excuse was a constant stream of business trips, disappearing for weeks at a time. He claimed the company was in crisis, and he was desperately trying to turn things around. I never called him on his lies. I never told him I’d seen the viral clip of them—him and his precious girl—kissing passionately at a sold-out pop concert. It had even made the rounds on a “CEO scandals” trending list. Why did I stay silent? Why did I endure it all? Because I still loved him. Five years of dating, five years of marriage—you don’t just sever a decade of your life because of an affair. It’s not that simple. So, I pretended not to notice the love bites on his neck when he came home. I ignored the cloying scent of a perfume favored by younger women clinging to his clothes. I even feigned ignorance when he moved into the study, sleeping in a separate bed, refusing to even touch me. I didn’t want a divorce, but he clearly did. As fate would have it, the lawyer he hired to draft the divorce papers worked for a firm I had secretly invested in. So not only did I know how much he agonized over the decision, how stressed and irritable he’d become, but I even knew the exact day he planned to give me the papers. To save our marriage, I took a desperate step. I went through a round of IVF. The night before he was set to end our life together, I called him, insisting he come home. He was clearly annoyed. The dinner I’d cooked for him had to be reheated three times by our housekeeper before he finally deigned to walk through the door. He didn’t even glance at the food on the table. Seeing me on the sofa, he just gave a cold, dismissive nod and disappeared into his study. Two hours later, after a long shower, he finally emerged. “You said you had something to tell me,” he said, his tone clipped and hard. It was the same voice he used with his employees. “What is it?” I didn’t say a word. I just calmly handed him the papers from the clinic. “I’m pregnant. Two weeks.” Paul’s breath caught in his throat. The veins on the back of the hand gripping the report bulged. I knew why this was such a shock. My mother had died in childbirth with my younger brother, and I had seen enough of women sacrificing everything for a marriage. From the very beginning of our relationship, I’d made it clear: I was child-free by choice. I would never have children. Back then, blinded by love, Paul had agreed without a second thought. But after we married, as the years passed, he started bringing it up more and more. Each time, I refused, even lashing out at him for breaking his promise. And now, here I was, handing him proof of a pregnancy. He took several deep, shuddering breaths, as if trying to reclaim his sanity. “Thank you,” he finally managed to say. “Thank you for being willing to do this… for me.” He stood up so abruptly that his knee slammed into the corner of the coffee table. Clutching the report, he stammered, “Sorry, this is just… it’s a lot to take in. I need a minute to process.” He fled back into his study, the door slamming shut behind him. It was only when the echo of the slam faded that I noticed the fruit fork in my hand. I’d been gripping it so tightly it had broken the skin of my palm, a single drop of blood blooming like a dark flower in my glass of water. 2 That night, the faint smell of smoke crept into my room. It was enough to tell me that Paul had probably been on the balcony all night, chain-smoking. The two rooms were close, but not that close. For the smell to be that strong, he must have gone through pack after pack. The next morning, I received a call from HR. Paul’s new secretary had resigned. And just like that, the business deals he was trying to unload were reversed, and the company began to operate normally again. The day I got the news, I lay in bed, my hand resting on my still-flat stomach, and cried until my pillow was soaked. Somehow, against all odds, I had saved our once-beautiful love from ending in a storm of cold calculation and betrayal. After that, Paul slipped back into the role of the loving husband he used to be. He accompanied me to every prenatal check-up. He spent weeks meticulously researching and selecting the best postpartum recovery center. He bought mountains of baby supplies, enough to last until our child was ten. He did everything a father-to-be should do. But he never moved back into our master bedroom. He still slept in the study. And he never, not once, initiated any physical intimacy. I even caught him once, late at night, watching videos and looking at photos of her on his phone while he pleasured himself. The absurdity of it was almost laughable, a bitter, stinging irony. Which brings us to now. To the girl, Jessie, brazenly showing up at our villa. She’d tossed her wedding invitation at me like a gauntlet, spewed some nonsense, and then run off. And Paul’s first instinct wasn’t to explain or reassure me. It was to chase after her. Even when I called out, forbidding him to leave, he just turned on me, his face a mask of pain and frustration. “Ava, I’m already trying to make this work! What more do you want from me?” he roared, his voice cracking. “She’s getting married tomorrow! Can’t I even say goodbye?” I looked at the sharp furrow of his brow, the undisguised disgust in his eyes. I wiped away a tear that had escaped without my permission. “No, Paul, you can’t. If you go after her today, I will abort this child.” His whole body went rigid. He stared at me, his eyes burning into mine. After what felt like an eternity, he exploded in a torrent of frustrated rage. “You are a truly vicious woman, Ava Jiang.” Vicious. The word struck me like a physical blow, leaving me breathless and numb. Was I vicious? For the sake of this marriage, to keep him, I had played blind. I had betrayed my own deepest convictions, enduring a belly bruised black and blue from IVF injections, all to give him the child he wanted. I had fought so, so hard to keep him. And in his eyes, all of that just made me… vicious. Tears streamed down my face like a torrential downpour. But my tears, and the child in my womb, were not enough to hold him back. He kicked the sofa in a fit of raw impatience. “Fine! Go to the hospital! Have your damn abortion! I’m going to her, and nothing you do can stop me!” And with that, he was gone, chasing after her like a reckless twenty-year-old, a desperate, frantic blur leaving my life. Watching him disappear, my fingers trembled as I dialed 911. He had made his choice. Now, it was time for me to make mine. I would abort the child he’d longed for, and then I would burn his entire world to the ground.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393553”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel