Category: English

Dinner was in full swing when my husband and my supposed best friend suddenly vanished. After a quick search, a flash of text appeared in my mind, like a live stream’s floating commentary: [OMG, thank goodness the Male Lead managed to grab the Female Lead and sprint from the restroom into the walk-in cooler, otherwise the Sidekick would have seen them!] [But they aren’t wearing clothes! They can’t hide in there for long, they’ll freeze to death!] I froze. So, my husband, Owen, was in the walk-in cooler, holding my best friend, Zara. And I was the “Sidekick.” I walked toward the cooler door, but the owner, Vivian, blocked my path. “Excuse me, ma’am. That’s for storing our ingredients. Guests aren’t allowed back here.” The Chat panicked. [Woah, good thing the Female Lead’s friend stopped the Sidekick, or they would have been found!] [It’s fine, it’s fine. As soon as the Sidekick leaves, they can come out!] The phrase “freeze to death” hit me like a physical blow. I changed my strategy. “I want to move to a table right here.” Vivian and The Chat were stunned. “What? Sit right here?” [WTF, Sidekick, what are you doing? How are our Male and Female Leads supposed to get out if you’re eating in the main hall?] 1 I pulled my gaze from the phantom text and forced back a cold smile. Are they all that surprised? Then I needed to eat well. Slowly. I owed that much to the pair currently holding each other close in the freezer. Vivian, the owner, I knew because I’d been here a few times. But I never suspected she was best friends with Zara. Now, she was acting as a shield for Zara and Owen. My face felt tight as I addressed her. “Why not, Vivian? The private dining room got a little stuffy. I want to move out here to the main dining room, and I’ll order another seafood platter and a bunch of other dishes. I couldn’t really eat much in there. Now I can feast. Besides the platter, I need two cases of beer. A dozen plates of Buffalo wings, 100 lamb skewers, 20 chicken sliders, 50 baked clams…” Vivian was briefly speechless. Hearing me order so much food, she automatically grabbed her order pad. While she was distracted, I quickly dialed my friends in the private room. “Everyone, come out. We’re moving to the big table. I just ordered a mountain of food and booze!” “Grab my purse and jacket on your way out.” I heard them cheer on the other end of the line. “Seriously? All that food? This is going to be an epic night!” “I know! I thought we were winding down, but Sienna just went out and added an entire feast. We have to eat it now!” “Let’s go, let’s go, hurry up!” When they emerged and sat down, I laughed. “Eat up! Nobody leaves until we’re stuffed!” 2 Vivian was dumbfounded. Clutching the menu, she didn’t know whether to kick us out or tell the kitchen to start cooking. She glanced anxiously at the cooler, then hesitated for a few seconds before trying to send us away. “I-I just realized we’re out of stock for all those items. We can’t fulfill your order. You should probably just leave for the night.” The Chat was quick to praise her. [The Female Lead’s friend is amazing! She’s not even worried about the money, just about saving the Female Lead!] [That order was easily over a thousand dollars. That’s true friendship!] [This Sidekick is pure evil. She’s trying to freeze our Male and Female Leads to death! Humph. Not happening!] [If the Sidekick and her people don’t leave, they really are in danger. Look, that cooler is 23 degrees Fahrenheit. They have no clothes. They won’t last an hour.] [Waaah, what do we do? I wish I could just rush in there and drag them out!] How Vivian must have wished she could, too. She desperately wanted us to leave. But we had already dragged out all the plates from the private room that we hadn’t finished. My friend Gabe immediately challenged Vivian. “Hold on, Vivian. That’s not cool. We haven’t even finished our first round, and you’re trying to kick us out? Plus, we’re adding to the bill. You’re a business owner, you can’t just turn away paying customers.” A flash of panic crossed Vivian’s face. “Don’t misunderstand, I’m not trying to rush you. We just genuinely ran out of those specific ingredients.” I stood up and pointed past her to the glass-fronted cooler, where rows of meat, seafood, and vegetables were neatly stacked, looking perfectly fresh. “Vivian, the dishes we ordered are clearly right there in your display case. How can you be out? Just get the kitchen to make them. I’ve called more people to join us, and they’ll probably order more.” Vivian was completely stiff. “What? More people are coming?” I held up my phone and smiled. “Yes, I called my mother-in-law and her two best friends. They absolutely love your food, and they’re all major gossip queens. Treat them well, and they’ll give your restaurant great publicity.” 3 Vivian turned to stone. So did The Chat: [HOLY CRAP, Sidekick, what are you doing? Why did you call the Male Lead’s mother? This is insane!] [Even though the Male Lead’s mother actually kind of likes the Female Lead, if she sees her cheating with her son and is humiliated in front of her friends, how can she ever agree to them being together?] [Exactly! She even told the Male Lead before that the Female Lead was ten times better than the Sidekick, but if she’s caught now, all that good image is ruined!] [Forget that! If the Sidekick and the others don’t leave, the Leads are going to freeze to death! Can’t you see them shivering? There’s ice forming on their faces!] [Oh my God, they look so pathetic. What do we do? I’m going crazy!] [Don’t worry. The Female Lead’s friend will fix this.] Is that so? I thought, a bitter smile catching in my throat. Can Vivian really fix this? I intended to wait and see exactly how she would. Vivian finally snapped out of it. Since the “running out of food” excuse was useless, she had to try another. “The kitchen just told me the propane ran out. We can’t light the stoves. If you still want to eat, you’ll have to go somewhere else.” Anger flared in me. I strode toward the kitchen entrance and saw the chefs still working, the line buzzing with activity. Just then, the restaurant’s audio system chimed. “Your online order has been automatically accepted.” I scoffed. “Vivian, you are acting so strange tonight. Why are you so desperately trying to drive us out?” “Do you have some kind of shameful secret you’re trying to hide? Your kitchen is clearly still busy, and I can see the backup gas tanks right there. This is a decent-sized restaurant; you wouldn’t run out of fuel. If you don’t give us a straight answer right now, we are not leaving. I’ve already recorded a video, and I’m ready to post it online and let everyone judge!” 4 Vivian looked like she was about to pass out. The Chat filled with angry emojis. [Damn it, I want to go in there and slap that Sidekick!] [Why is she picking a fight with the Female Lead’s friend? The Female Lead is already too cold to talk. If the Male Lead wasn’t holding her so tightly, she would have passed out already.] [It’s okay. If they survive this, this life-and-death ordeal will definitely make their relationship stronger and ensure their happily-ever-after.] Happily-ever-after? No. I absolutely wouldn’t allow that. My friends also started shouting about complaining and exposing Vivian’s behavior. Having no other choice, Vivian finally grabbed the menu and retreated to the kitchen. Watching her reluctant, defeated retreat gave me a surge of grim satisfaction. But it was immediately chased by pain and fury. I had been nothing but generous to Zara. When she was out of work, I got her a job at Owen’s company. When she needed a place to stay, I had Owen rent her a small apartment as a “company dorm.” I never left her out when we went out for fun. And this was her repayment? But it takes two. Owen was just as bad. He didn’t just sleep with someone in his own backyard; he did it right under the noses of all our friends. If they wanted a thrill, I’d give them a real thrill. I’ll keep them trapped inside that cooler tonight and see if they have the luck to make it out alive. “Sienna, you are unbelievable! You’re out here spending my son’s money on a massive dinner again, dragging all these people with you!” A furious voice suddenly broke my thoughts. I turned around to see my mother-in-law, Dolores, with her two friends. All three had overly coiffed blonde hair and caked-on, pale makeup, clearly believing they looked like socialites. In reality, with Owen’s net worth barely scraping into the low millions, the Owens were just ordinary in the upper circles—barely worth a second glance. Yet, Dolores always treated me like I wasn’t good enough because my family was only solidly middle-class. She constantly told me I spent Owen’s money, and any other woman would be a better wife. She hadn’t wanted to come until I mentioned the massive order. Then she rushed over, eager to “eat back” her son’s money. Ignoring her fury, I smiled warmly. “Mom, Brenda and Patrice are here, too? Come sit down! It’s not just me and my friends, Owen was here, but he stepped out for a minute.” 5 Dolores and the two Aunts sat down, their faces tight. My friends politely shifted to make room. Gabe, always the charmer, quickly poured them wine and grinned. “Auntie, Owen was with us! Don’t pick on Sienna. We’re all treating each other. No one’s taking advantage of anyone here.” Dolores’s expression softened slightly. She glanced at the table, and her face soured again. “Why are there only leftovers? Did you call us here to eat scraps?” Brenda sneered. “Are we that hungry, coming to eat leftovers?” I quickly explained. “I’ve already ordered a ton of new food, it’s coming right up. If there’s anything else you want, feel free to order it. My treat tonight—I’m paying for everything myself!” Patrice immediately put down her purse and walked straight to the display case to order. Dolores and Brenda exchanged a look and quickly followed suit. Vivian, clutching her order pad, looked completely defeated, jotting down every request, practically in tears. The Chat was also on the verge of crying. [Oh no, the Female Lead’s friend has completely run out of options… crying.jpg.] [The Female Lead can barely breathe now. The Male Lead is trying to give her mouth-to-mouth and hugging her tightly, but he’s shivering uncontrollably. His eyelashes are covered in ice. They won’t last much longer.] [If it were me, I’d get out immediately, embarrassment be damned.] [But he explicitly told the friend not to open the door unless they hammered on it. She hasn’t gotten the signal, so she won’t open it.] [The problem is they can’t even stand up now. How are they going to hammer on the door?] [Seriously, they should have just hidden in the kitchen instead of the freezer! Now they’re stuck!] [Are you dumb? The kitchen is packed with people! They didn’t have any clothes on! Why would they go there? I’d say the bathroom was better than the freezer.] [To the person above: that bathroom is gender-neutral. The Sidekick already checked the door. Even if she hadn’t, someone else would have. They’d be caught either way.] [Wait, speaking of that—their clothes are still in the bathroom!] Me: “???” Holy hell, that is juicy. I need to find an excuse to check the restroom. 6 Soon, the extra dishes we ordered began to arrive. Everyone ate heartily. Half an hour flew by with us all eating and drinking. Dolores and her friends were so focused on the food that only now did she suddenly remember her son. She looked at me. “We’ve been eating for half an hour. Where is my son?” I bit into a lamb skewer and shrugged. “I have no idea. He didn’t say.” The others looked up, confused. “We don’t know either. He just walked out without saying anything.” “Wait, where is Zara? She’s gone too!” I sighed dramatically. They were such foodies; only now did they notice Zara was also missing. I feigned confusion. “Oh, yeah, she’s gone. Maybe they went back to the office together?” Dolores picked up her phone and called Owen. It rang and rang, but no one answered. She exhaled in relief. “He’s probably busy and can’t answer. As long as the phone isn’t turned off, it means he’s fine.” Yes, as long as it wasn’t turned off, it meant he hadn’t been in a car accident or something similar. But she didn’t know that some accidents were far more fatal. Like right now, her beloved son was naked, wrapped around the girl she liked best, and freezing to death. Suddenly, she looked at me with deep dissatisfaction. “Sienna, what is wrong with you? Your own husband is missing, and you’re just sitting here eating and drinking! If it were Zara, she wouldn’t be like this. If Owen hadn’t eaten, she would be worried sick and rush home to make him soup. When he’s sick, Zara buys his medicine. She stays up late when he works overtime. And you? You just care about going out and having fun! I’ve never seen you bring him food or show concern! Just like now, you don’t even know where my son is!” “How wonderful it would be if Zara were my daughter-in-law. She’s competent at work, she’s good to my son, and she helps with everything inside and outside the home.” 7 I was stunned, my mind blank. She was tearing me down and praising Zara in front of all these people, without a shred of concern for my dignity. My face went cold. “Mom, is that really what you think? I have brought Owen food. You have seen me go with him to the doctor. Where have I been only caring about fun?” “I have been running myself ragged out there, landing one big account after another for his company. I was so busy, in fact, that I didn’t even realize when my best friend crawled into my husband’s bed.” “I really should thank you, Mom. You’re telling me things I didn’t even know. I didn’t know they had progressed this far. You’ve already given them your blessing.” Dolores saw everyone at the table staring at her, their expressions openly excited for the gossip. Her face went pale as she instantly realized what she had said. She scrambled to cover it up. “No! I didn’t mean that! What I meant was, you just aren’t as good as Zara! There’s nothing sordid going on between them! She’s always been respectful to me. She would never dare ruin my son’s marriage and make him a laughingstock!” The more she explained, the worse she made it. Everyone was desperately trying to suppress their laughter. I just looked at her, my expression icy. I was intentionally fighting with her to stall for time. No matter how much she tried to smear me, I would keep the argument going. The Chat was furious. [What in God’s name is this old woman thinking? Who would talk about their daughter-in-law like this in front of strangers? I actually feel kind of sorry for the Sidekick.] [Seriously! She’s practically admitting her son is too close to another woman while married. Is she out of her mind?] [She’s throwing the Female Lead right under the bus! Unbelievable.] [The old woman is still arguing! The Female Lead isn’t moving much anymore. The Male Lead’s consciousness is fading. If they don’t get out soon, they will really die!] Hmm? They’re really close to dying? That means they haven’t died yet. With that thought, I launched another volley at Dolores. “Mom, your explanations are useless now. Even if Zara is my friend, and I brought her into the company, if she did something like this with Owen, that’s crossing a line! Stop defending them. If you like her so much as a daughter-in-law, when they come back, I’ll tell Owen I want a divorce and let her have your son!” It was then that my friend Rory spoke up hesitantly. “Uh, you guys said they both disappeared at the same time. Do you think they went to…?” 8 The moment she stopped speaking, everyone else immediately understood. “They went to a hotel room?” “No way, are they that brazen?” “We’re all right here eating! They snuck out to get a room? That’s so unfair to Sienna!” “It is! That’s disgusting. I’ve never heard of anything like that.” “I read a story once—a guy went out to get cigarettes while out to dinner with his girlfriend and managed to hook up with someone in the parking lot. There are no new stories under the sun, folks.” Dolores and the Aunts heard all the murmuring. But only Dolores was angry; Brenda and Patrice were strangely excited. Dolores often bragged to them about how excellent and capable Owen was. If he was humiliated, it would be a treat for them! Brenda pretended to be upset and scolded them. “Stop talking nonsense. We watched Owen grow up. He is a decent, moral man. He wouldn’t be sleeping around.” Patrice, her eyes wide, chimed in, “Exactly! Just wait until they get back. You’ll see, they won’t come back together!” The whispering died out. The air went dead silent. Rory took the opportunity to stand up and break the tension. “I need to use the restroom.” The Chat went ballistic. [AAAHH, HOLY COW, someone went to the restroom! It’s over! Their clothes are still in there!] [I knew it! They are going to be discovered now!] [Where is the restaurant owner? Why didn’t she hide the clothes?] [She couldn’t hide anything! Can’t you see she’s running around like a headless chicken? She completely forgot the Male and Female Leads are still in the freezer!] I curled my lips into a cold smile, watching Rory disappear through the restroom door. There were three stalls inside. Would she see them? I started a silent countdown. A few seconds later, a piercing scream echoed from the restroom!

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I paid $4.90 for a carpool ride, but a Rolls Royce showed up. The girl next to me tilted her head and smiled: “What a coincidence, you hailed my boyfriend’s car~” I was about to respond when my attention was caught by the handsome guy who appeared. He was in a suit, cold and noble, gently and carefully helping the girl into the car. The assistant behind him called out to me timidly: “Mrs. Thorne… “Where are you going?” I waved my hand, swallowing the words “going to the hospital for a prenatal checkup.” When I spoke again, I heard my own slightly trembling voice: “To the airport.” Chapter 1 My voice was soft. So soft that it seemed no one heard it. The girl in the passenger seat was happily holding Ethan Thorne’s hand: “See~ I told you not to come pick me up specially. “Only a fool wouldn’t earn money, $4.90 is enough to buy a cup of milk tea. “Besides—” She turned around abruptly, grinning: “Sister, you must have never sat in such a luxury car, right? “Just treat it as an opportunity for ordinary people to get in touch with high society.” I smiled. Looking at Ethan through the rearview mirror. His eyebrows were handsome as usual, expression calm, without the slightest change. A faint “Mmh”. Slender fingers were scrolling on the phone screen. Like dealing with urgent work. While my screen was flashing non-stop: [Chloe is very innocent, don’t scare her.] [Don’t worry, this won’t shake your status as Mrs. Thorne. So, I don’t want the Thorne family to know about Chloe’s existence either.] [Your parents’ company still relies on the Thorne family, you won’t do anything unwise, right?] I turned off the screen. Put the phone face down. Looked up, meeting Ethan’s eyes in the rearview mirror. His face was unconcerned, well-defined hands tapping the steering wheel rhythmically. His tone was cold as ice: “Lady in the back, fasten your seatbelt.” I didn’t speak. Staring at the pink sticker in front of the passenger seat: [Little Fairy Chloe’s Exclusive Seat]. Letting the sourness spread in my heart until it completely drowned me. A few minutes later. I calmed down. Bought a plane ticket to Fiji. Chapter 2 Along the way, Chloe chattered non-stop about interesting things at the company. When she got excited, she would pat Ethan’s arm excitedly. Ethan, from beginning to end, showed no impatience, instead slightly curling his lips in a light smile. Like an outsider, I watched all this. Couldn’t help but recall. Ethan had always been business-like with me. Even discussing wedding plans. We weren’t like husband and wife, more like Party A and Party B. Except— In bed. He was like a fierce wolf, rampant, red-eyed, demanding everything from me. “Sister, do you want some chips?” Chloe’s soft voice interrupted my thoughts. I looked at this fair and youthful face, the word “mistress” didn’t escape my mouth after all: “No.” She “oh”ed, “Okay.” Then handed the chips to Ethan. Suddenly remembering Ethan was driving. Chloe simply bit the chip in her mouth and leaned her face over. Ethan subconsciously glanced at the rearview mirror, his hands gripping the steering wheel turning white. But in the end, he didn’t resist Chloe’s coquetry. Adam’s apple rolled. Took that half chip with his mouth. I turned my head away, looking out the window. Heard Chloe say embarrassedly: “Hehe, sister don’t laugh at us, we are still in the honeymoon phase. “Actually, I didn’t want to date before twenty-five at all, but he is just too good to me. “Afraid I’d be wronged at the company, always secretly backing me up, and on call anytime, I feel embarrassed. Today too, I just had period cramps, he wasn’t at ease, insisted on dropping work to accompany me to the hospital…” “That’s great.” I couldn’t help interrupting, voice cold: “Wish you a hundred years of happiness together.” I held back the sourness and sadness in my heart, picked up my phone and bag, voice slightly trembling: “I’ll get off here.” Chloe was a bit surprised: “Aren’t you going to the same destination as me, shouldn’t you go to the hospital?” I smiled: “Something came up last minute, I have a date, my boyfriend said he’s coming to pick me up here.” Chapter 3 What I didn’t expect was. Ethan chased me out. He looked down from above, asking in a suppressed voice: “What do you mean?” I was confused: “What?” “What do you mean by a hundred years of happiness?” Ethan looked around, grabbed my wrist, displeasure unconcealed on his face: “You know very well, my parents only recognize you as their daughter-in-law, so you deliberately say this to disgust me?” I couldn’t struggle free. He got angrier: “Maya Jiang, is the boyfriend you mentioned lying to me? “If this wild man really exists— “Then you know my methods.” I didn’t understand: “What does it have to do with you? First meeting, you said we were just for show, not interfering with each other privately…” “That’s different.” Ethan wandered on the edge of losing composure, at this moment he was like a dormant beast: “Your Jiang family is in danger, so in this transaction, you should absolutely obey me. “Or are you lonely in an empty room, unbearable, need me to help you relieve?” Saying so. He put his hand on my waist, suddenly leaned down— “What are you doing!” Chloe chased over at some unknown time, shouting with red eyes: “You guys… you guys…” She covered her mouth. Looking at Ethan’s hand on my waist in disbelief. Next second. Chloe rushed up. Aiming at my face, a slap. Chapter 4 I didn’t expect it. She looked thin and petite, but her strength was immense. I barely stood firm. Subconsciously covered my lower abdomen again. “You really have no shame!” Chloe cried while pointing at me: “No wonder I heard you talking weirdly just now, turns out you have ulterior motives for my boyfriend!” Her voice trembled with anger. Blocking in front of Ethan, “Just because you’re pretty, you can seduce other people’s boyfriends casually! “Are you a bus? How cheap!” I originally thought. Chloe kept in the dark was also a victim. But now, she clearly saw Ethan taking the initiative, yet still vented all her anger on me. I turned cold. “Then do you know the boyfriend you talk about is already married? “I am…” While Chloe was stunned, I stepped forward, raised my hand, wanting to return that slap. But was grabbed by Ethan by the wrist. He rubbed his brow, impatient: “Enough! “Look at yourself, do you have half the demeanor of Mrs. Thorne!” At this moment. I suddenly realized, the surging love for Ethan for many years, disappeared completely in just a few minutes.

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I’m married to a man who, by all accounts, has someone else in his heart. Since our wedding, he’s never touched me. Starved for affection and intimacy, I went online to vent and maybe find some advice. Instead, I stumbled upon a forum post. [I’m too big, and I have a high drive. What if I scare my wife?] [It’s been so long, I’m afraid I can’t control myself.] [Not bragging, this is a genuine problem. Seeking sincere advice.] Feeling inexplicably bitter, I left a snarky comment. [You aren’t afraid of scaring her; she probably just doesn’t want you at all.] [Why is an abandoned husband seeking attention here?] To my surprise, he DMed me, clearly defensive. “What do you know?” “Even though she won’t look me in the eye.” “The main reason is I don’t want to scare her.” “That’s why we haven’t consummated the marriage!” Suddenly, I felt a kinship with this stranger. We were both lonely souls in sexless marriages. I decided to help him out. “Why don’t you try testing the waters with something provocative?” “Like… men’s lingerie? Something sheer?” Not long after. My husband, Ethan Vance, knocked on my bedroom door. He was wearing a sheer black silk shirt. Chapter 1 It was my ovulation week. And I wanted a man. I was married, but my husband had a “white moonlight”—a first love he couldn’t forget. He never touched me. Tonight, Ethan actually came home for dinner, which was rare. His chiseled features, tall and powerful build, and that calm, alpha aura… Everything about him hooked me, making my heart itch. He noticed me stealing glances at him. His gaze swept over me coldly, a silent warning. I panicked and looked away. But a man practicing abstinence just looked even sexier. I swallowed secretly. Later that night. I was suffocating. I was practically starving for intimacy. I wanted to ask for help online. Instead, I found that post. [I’m too big, and I have a high drive. What if I scare my wife?] [It’s been so long, I’m afraid I can’t control myself.] [Not bragging, this is a genuine problem. Seeking sincere advice.] Jealousy and frustration ignited instantly. I left a mean comment. [You aren’t afraid of scaring her; she probably just doesn’t want you at all.] [Why is an abandoned husband seeking attention here?] A moment later, I got a DM. The poster seemed triggered. He sent several messages in a row. “What do you know?!” “Even though ours is a loveless arranged marriage.” “Even though she won’t look me in the eye.” “Even though she might have someone she likes.” “The main reason is I don’t want to scare her.” “That’s why we haven’t consummated the marriage!” This guy must be going crazy from holding it in too. My mouth twitched. “If that’s the case, and there’s no love, why not divorce?” He replied instantly. “She has no feelings for me, but I have feelings for her.” “I like her very much.” “I worked hard to marry her.” Was this some kind of forced marriage romance novel trope? Soon, he sent a long paragraph. It was an emotional confession of his love for his wife. And a subtle complaint about the pain of seeing but not touching. Instantly. I thought of Ethan. At that moment, I felt a sense of camaraderie. I was soaking in the rain, so I wanted to hold an umbrella for someone else. I gave him advice. “How do you look?” “If you really are ‘big’ like you say, and handsome, try seducing her. Women like that.” He retorted immediately. “She is the purest woman I’ve ever met.” “That would only scare her.” I found it funny. “So what? You never take your pants off?” Him: “…” I thought for a moment: “Why not test the waters?” “Like men’s lingerie? Or something sheer?” “If your wife takes a peek, your problem isn’t a problem.” He didn’t reply. I switched to another site. But not long after, there was a knock at my door. Ethan stood outside. Wearing a sheer black shirt. Chapter 2 The buttons on his chest weren’t even done properly. A large expanse of skin was visible. I looked away in shock. But I couldn’t help stealing a glance from the corner of my eye. The view was… intense. “Grace.” His cold voice sounded. I looked up at him. “What is it?” Ethan’s brow was furrowed. “Why have the clothes in my room changed to this style?” I felt a bit guilty. Of course, I did it on purpose. Thinking maybe he’d wear one? But I couldn’t admit it. I used my prepared excuse. “I’m not sure.” “Joe came by a while ago, maybe he put them there.” Joe, Ethan’s biological brother. A top international fashion designer. He hated how stiff and serious his brother dressed. He loved messing with Ethan’s wardrobe. As I spoke, my eyes drifted down again. I felt like I was going to get a nosebleed. I quickly looked away. Ethan paused. “Don’t let him into the house freely in the future.” I nodded. Ethan turned to leave. I grabbed his arm. I knew he was looking at me. But I didn’t dare look at him. Summoning all my courage, I whispered. “Do you want to come in?” My palms were sweating with nervousness. Suddenly, a ringtone broke the silence. Ethan glanced at his phone, his voice remaining cold. “What?” I let go instantly. “Nothing, the light is flickering, wanted you to check it.” Ethan didn’t speak. He turned his back to me to answer the call. I heard the person on the other end say, “I’m back, I want to see you.” Ethan hung up, his look at me obscure and unreadable. “I’m going out.” “I’ll send someone to check the light.” So embarrassing. I lowered my head and murmured “Mhm.” Slam. I shut the door. I hid under the covers for a long time before picking up my phone. A news notification popped up. [Actress Bella White returns, Thorne CEO low-key airport pickup.] Bella White. Ethan’s “white moonlight.” So he went to pick her up. I was both cowardly and angry! Fine if he doesn’t touch me. But does he have to humiliate me too?! The poster from earlier sent a DM. “It worked!” “My wife looked at me several times!” “She even asked me for help.” “What should I do next?” Chapter 3 Human joys and sorrows are truly not connected. Why were we both pitiful a second ago? Now he’s about to ascend to heaven. And I’m about to be cheated on and kicked out. I instantly took my anger out on him. “Why do you have that kind of clothes at home?!” “You look like a player at first glance, your wife won’t accept you, give up!” “Scum!” But surprisingly, he didn’t get angry. He typed for a while. Sent a message. “What’s wrong? What happened?” Inexplicably, I treated him as an emotional trash can. Directly said: “Who would be in a good mood watching their husband about to cheat?” He messaged again. “Could there be a misunderstanding?” “Does he need you to tell him how to cheat?” Me: “He abandoned me for his first love.” “He won’t touch me because of her.” “He’s about to kick me out for her.” Poster: “Then divorce him.” Heh, easier said than done. My marriage with Ethan was a business alliance. My family was about to go bankrupt and relied on his. I replied perfunctorily: “I haven’t touched him yet, I’m not resigned.” This time he replied instantly. “You want to touch him? That’s easy.” “Drug him, force him.” “Use him then divorce him.” Chapter 4 “I don’t do illegal things like forcing others.” I post for help online, but I have my principles. Poster: “You are husband and wife, he has an obligation to you.” “Besides, rape is against a woman’s will, he’s not a woman.” “He’s just a scumbag about to cheat.” He amused me. My mood improved a bit. “Forget me, let’s talk about your wife.” “How did she look at you more?” Mentioning his wife. This poster switched modes fast. “My wife is really so pure and shy.” “She just glanced lightly.” “Those lashes were thick and dense, and they trembled.” “How can there be such a beautiful person.” Me: “Is it because you were standing there like a statue, she had to look?” He paused. Poster: “You don’t understand.” “Usually she wouldn’t look at me like that.” “Today at dinner, I looked at her, she turned her head immediately.” “She usually wouldn’t look at me at all.” Suddenly felt he really loved his wife. But also very pitiful. Me: “Then you finally got her attention, keep it up.” Poster: “What next?” “Can you teach me?” “I think your methods are more useful than other netizens.” Well, obviously. Aside from cursing him, the other advice was unreliable. Most asked for pics or truth. Some offered to “help test” his contact info for his wife. Some told him to castrate himself. It wasn’t a serious site after all. Just as I was about to refuse. Poster: “I can pay.” “10 million if successful, okay?” I froze. How much? Did he say how much? If I could really make 10 million, I’d have the confidence to divorce Ethan!

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Seven years after my parents’ divorce, I earned my acceptance letter to The Westwood Institute. At the freshman orientation ceremony, I saw him: Pierce Harrison, attending as a major investment representative. My father. He froze for a fraction of a second when he saw me, his voice hesitant as he spoke: “Aubrey, is your mother… is she doing well?” I swallowed the bitter lump in my throat and turned to walk away. He quickly grabbed my arm. “Tell your mother to call me. We should all have dinner together.” My eyes instantly welled up. I yanked my arm away. How utterly ridiculous. How can a dead woman have dinner with you? 1 As soon as the ceremony ended, my friend, Maya, rushed over, her voice soft and cautious. “Aubrey, is Pierce Harrison… your dad?” I kept my head down, offering no reply. Seeing my silence, Maya gently tried to comfort me. “Are you okay? I truly didn’t realize he was a major backer for the school.” “The Freshman Gala is this afternoon. You might run into him again…” I managed a faint smile, cutting her off. “Don’t worry. I already asked for an excused absence. I have other plans this afternoon.” Maya visibly relaxed a little, but the worry still hung in her eyes. “Please don’t try to pretend you’re fine. I hate it when you put on that brave face.” I squeezed her shoulder. “I’m heading out now.” I hadn’t walked far from the auditorium when an administrator, Mr. Keller, rushed up to stop me. He asked me to go to the Dean’s office. “It’s Pierce Harrison, isn’t it?” I stated, the finality in my tone leaving no room for doubt. Before he could answer, I refused him flat out. “Please tell him that there is nothing for us to discuss.” “I have an appointment. I’m leaving now.” The administrator was stunned for a moment, clearly aware of some of the history. He quickly grasped my arm, his tone complex. “Miss Monroe, I can’t speak to your family matters. But Mr. Harrison is your father, after all. What kind of feud could there be? He just wants to see you…” Feud? Father? No father poisons his child’s mother. He took both of my parents from me in one fell swoop. Seeing him for the first time in seven years, I didn’t look nearly as distraught as I used to. I was calm, like I was looking at a complete stranger. But I hadn’t moved on. At the very least, I couldn’t move on for my mother. Pierce Harrison’s betrayal couldn’t just be written off. Leaving campus, I headed straight for the cemetery. I placed my mother’s favorite irises carefully at her headstone. The woman in the photo looked vibrant, her smile bright and carefree. It was taken when she and Pierce were dating. Back then, they were the campus Golden Couple, the envy of everyone. They won competitions together, spent countless hours in the library, and led the school to victory in debate—they were like a couple living out a perfect romantic movie. I even used them as the inspiration for a short story I wrote. Everyone who read it said it was the sweetest thing. But reality isn’t a storybook. The ending of our story was anything but sweet. I wiped the dust from her picture, forcing a smile. “Mom, starting today, I’m a university student.” “I told you I’d get in. See? I didn’t lie.” “Do you remember promising me that we’d go to a concert together when I got into college? I went by myself. It was Fiona Apple—your favorite.” As I spoke, my voice caught in my throat. “Mom, I saw him today…” “…I still hate him. But I hate myself more.” 2 Leaving the cemetery, I wandered aimlessly. A passerby alerted me that my phone was ringing. It was an unknown number. Pierce Harrison had somehow gotten my contact information from the school. “Aubrey, your dad just wants to see you and your mother…” I hung up immediately and blocked the number. I didn’t have a father. I was better off without him. But he clearly wasn’t giving up. Soon, a text message arrived from a different number. [Aubrey, it’s your father. You don’t want me to bother Grandma Monroe, do you?] I stared at the screen, my fingers clutching the phone until my knuckles turned white. Seven years later, his shamelessness had reached a new low. I took a cab to the address he sent. He was wearing a bespoke suit, his posture poised, his demeanor cultured. He looked almost exactly as I remembered him. But my mother was gone. Seeing me enter, he set down the files he was holding and rose eagerly. “Aubrey, you’re here. Come, sit.” I didn’t move. He didn’t seem bothered, a smile plastered on his face. “I saw your transcript at the school. Very impressive. You are certainly my daughter.” Hearing his compliment, I only felt contempt. My accomplishments had absolutely nothing to do with him. Quite the opposite: it was precisely his suppression and his abandonment that forced me to run forward, desperately. The countless sleepless nights, the humiliation I swallowed—all of it was his doing. I just wanted to be a normal girl, safe in my mother’s embrace. This so-called excellence was nothing more than a survival instinct. Before I could speak, someone approached to greet him. “Pierce, fancy meeting you here. And who is this?” Pierce Harrison responded with a slight, proud smile. “This is my daughter, Aubrey.” While they exchanged pleasantries, I slipped away to the restroom. When I came out, I overheard the low voices of the group. “Pierce Harrison has a grown daughter?” “That’s the one from his marriage to Julia Monroe.” “Those two were the original golden couple in our circles, building that empire together.” “Didn’t that marriage end in a cheating scandal? A total mess, I heard.” “Exactly. Goes to show how easily people change. Speaking of which, I haven’t seen Julia Monroe around in ages…” I walked back, moving around them. Pierce glanced at me. “What took you so long?” “You couldn’t even manage a greeting for your elders.” I scoffed. “Mr. Harrison, why did you really ask me here?” He frowned, his tone hardening. “Aubrey Monroe Harrison, what is that attitude?” “I’m a Monroe!” I cut him off. “And I don’t have a father. Stop acting like one and lecturing me.” He slammed his hand on the table. “Your mother has truly ruined you. Is this how you speak to your elders?” “Call your mother. Whatever issues we have are between us. It’s not your place to interfere. Call her.” My eyes immediately turned red. I glared at him, venom in my voice. “See her?” “Pierce Harrison, do you think you’re worthy?” Slap! The sharp sting of the backhanded strike snapped my head sideways, my ears ringing violently. “I am your father!” I laughed out loud. See? This was his true face. A cold, utterly selfish businessman. His nature had never changed. If he set his mind to something, he didn’t care about anyone else’s feelings. Admittedly, that very coldness and calculation were what allowed him to reach his current heights. When my mother met him, he had nothing. It was Grandma Monroe who, recognizing his talent, subsidized him so he could finish school. From campus to the business world, in just a few years, he showed a startling commercial genius. He had drive, a plan, and ambition, completely shedding the label of a poor student. And my mother was once his most trusted partner. They pitched clients together; she blocked drinks and navigated social circles for him. They pulled all-nighters on proposals together; she stayed up until dawn with him. The company’s initial structure and clientele were all things my mother helped him build, piece by piece. He absorbed her dedication as capital for his own success. Successful career, beautiful wife. At their wedding, he promised my grandmother: “Teacher, I will take care of Julia for the rest of my life.” Too bad a man’s promises are worthless. Perhaps those moving words never truly entered his calculating heart. And my mother’s life, Because of him, stopped at thirty-three. I stared straight at him, my voice eerily calm. “When you were cheating with my classmate’s mother, why didn’t you remember you were my dad?” 3 I was the one who inadvertently introduced the other woman to him. It was pouring rain that day, and my father had come to pick me up from school. I saw my classmate, Hailey, and her mother standing on the curb, soaked to the bone. My heart softened, and I suggested he offer them a ride. Later, that Mrs. Price came to the house to thank us, and over time, she became familiar with our family. It wasn’t until I saw her at my father’s company that I first sensed something was wrong. I was young then, only vaguely uneasy. Pierce Harrison’s explanation was smooth: “Mrs. Price is a single mother, struggling to raise a child. I had an opening at the company that fit her skills perfectly.” “I asked your mother about it, and she thought it was fine, so I hired her.” I frowned, ready to argue, but he smiled and lightly tapped my nose. “What are you thinking? Isn’t it good to help your classmate’s mother?” “Mrs. Price has a certain drive… she reminds me of your mother and me when we were first starting out.” That comment reminded me of the story I was writing, and I quieted down to listen. The next time I saw Candace Price, she had been transferred from the logistics department to the Executive Office, becoming Pierce Harrison’s personal assistant. The sudden shift was jarring, and it made my stomach churn. I even heard colleagues joking. “Only Candace can handle the boss’s temper.” “If Mr. Harrison weren’t married, you’d think she was his girlfriend.” “They just have such incredible chemistry.” I couldn’t take it anymore. I rushed to his office and told him everything I’d heard. He just laughed. “You know how strong your mother’s and my feelings are. Mrs. Price is your friend’s mother. What could possibly be going on? Can I stop every single whisper of gossip?” He stroked my hair. “Aubrey, don’t mention this to your mother. She’s not well, and it will only upset her.” He promised me, “I’ll transfer her to another department. The rumors will die down eventually. Don’t worry, Dad will handle it.” Candace was transferred eventually, but he also forbade me from visiting the company, telling me to focus on my studies and leave adult business alone. I thought my mother remained blissfully unaware. Until the day I skipped class and came home, walking in on a terrible fight. The realization hit me like a blow to the head. I struggled to breathe. Pierce Harrison truly was cheating with Candace Price. My mother had walked in on them having sex in his office. His so-called attempts to “put distance” between them were all just excuses to keep me stable. He stopped me from going to the office only because he feared I’d discover more. As I strained to hear more, Candace rushed into the room. She stood in front of Pierce, tears streaming down her face. “Julia, it’s all my fault. Please, take it out on me…” Looking at her hypocritical face, I snapped. I lunged and slapped her hard. Pierce instinctively pushed me away, and my mother, trying to shield me, fell to the floor with me. He coldly tossed out one final phrase. “Calm down. We’ll talk later.” Then, without a backward glance, he led Candace out the door. 4 After the argument, my mother’s health deteriorated even further. Pierce, perhaps out of guilt, or perhaps out of respect for Grandma Monroe, pulled some strings. He used his contacts to bring in a top cardiology expert, Dr. Quentin. They reviewed her case repeatedly, creating the most comprehensive surgical plan for my mother. They carefully adjusted her medication and recovery schedule. For a period, my mother’s condition stabilized. I rushed to the hospital every day after school. Watching her color return day by day, I held onto the silent hope that everything would be alright. Until the day I saw Candace Price’s car downstairs at the hospital. My heart sank, and I rushed upstairs. In the hospital room, Candace was feigning concern. “Julia, Pierce specifically asked me to visit you, as he was worried you might be bored alone.” “There are some things he can’t bear to say. But since it’s come to this, why not just get divorced? A marriage without love is torture for everyone involved.” Her words were full of sharp barbs. I was trembling with rage. How dared she come to my mother’s bedside to say these things? I grabbed the glass vase from the cabinet by the door and hurled it at her. She screamed, clearly not expecting my sudden appearance, and froze in shock. I tried to lunge at her again, but a strong hand yanked me back. Pierce Harrison was gripping my arm tightly, his face contorted in fury. “Aubrey Monroe! Have you gone mad? Where is your respect?!” We had a massive fight that day. I cried, yelling at him, “That’s my mother! She can’t take stress! Candace did this on purpose! If anything happens to her…” Slap! A ringing slap cut me short. Pierce’s eyes were ice cold. “Can you try to act your age? If you behave like this one more time, don’t expect me to continue managing your mother’s surgery!” He turned to my mother, warning her. “Control your daughter. As long as you behave, I will treat you well.” After that, he stopped pretending altogether. He barely showed up anymore. But Candace’s provocations continued. She would “casually” reveal details of her time with Pierce to my mother. Sometimes it was newly bought jewelry, sometimes it was the corporate credit card he’d given her. She even left her prenatal appointment slips where my mother would find them… I quickly discovered these things. I held my mother, sobbing. “Mom, after the surgery, we’ll leave. We’ll get far away from them, and I’ll never let you be upset again.” She forced a smile, stroking my head. “My Aubrey is all grown up. You can protect your mother now.” “Don’t worry. I’ve signed the papers. I’ll hand them over to him after the surgery.” She was referring to the divorce agreement that had been sitting on the table for months. All I could think was: After the surgery, when she’s well, we can finally leave Pierce Harrison forever. But before that thought could be realized, my mother’s condition suddenly worsened. The monitoring machine sounded a piercing alarm. The doctors said she needed immediate surgery. But the hospital and I couldn’t reach Dr. Quentin. We frantically called Pierce Harrison. After countless busy signals, the call finally connected. “My mother is in critical condition. She needs surgery immediately! Why can’t we reach Dr. Quentin?” Pierce’s voice was filled with irritation. “Aubrey, stop causing trouble. I know your mother’s condition. It’s not critical enough for immediate surgery.” “Candace’s mother has a heart issue, and she needs Dr. Quentin to lead the surgery. I’ve arranged for other specialists to take over your mother’s case.” “Stay with her and stop being unreasonable. I’m very busy lately. Talk to my assistant if you need anything.” Before the phone disconnected, I faintly heard Candace’s voice: “Aubrey must be exaggerating. Julia was fine that day when she walked in on us, wasn’t she?” My mind went completely blank, the sound in my ears a deafening roar. Everything after that was a blur. I only remember the operating room light turning off, the surgeon walking out, and slowly shaking his head. … I pulled my thoughts back, about to speak to Pierce Harrison. A familiar voice came from the side. “Aubrey, I thought you said you were going to visit your mother’s grave today? Why are you here?” Next to me, Pierce Harrison instantly froze, his pupils contracting violently.

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While I was kissing the younger twin, all I could think about was how to sleep with his older brother. Until I accidentally overheard the two brothers making a bet: “Archer, you’ve had your fun. Do you really think you can replace me?” “I bet you, with just one word from me, Blaire will crawl back to me like a dog.” In the VIP booth of the club, the younger twin bit his cigarette and sneered: “Really? Then I bet five million dollars.” I breathed a sigh of relief. I thought they had found out I was acting too. Then I’ll make a bet as well. I bet that within three months, I’ll take down both of them, plus that five million. Chapter 1 Everyone knew I liked Asher Sterling. I confessed to him seven times. Asher tirelessly rejected me seven times. But on the eighth time, “he” rarely agreed. But I knew, “he” wasn’t him. He just had the exact same face as Asher Sterling. But he knew how to please me extremely well. Seeing me come over, Archer hurriedly stubbed out the cigarette in his hand. He knew I couldn’t stand the smell of smoke. But his hand dishonestly slipped into my thin shirt, asking for a reward for being obedient. I closed my eyes, lying in his arms, pretending to push him away. “Asher, our 100-day anniversary is coming up. How do you plan to celebrate?” The person buried in my neck, kissing down to my collarbone, suddenly stopped. Archer lifted his eyelids, staring at me with eyes full of desire. What’s wrong? Did I say something wrong? After all, the person I confessed to was Asher. He was the one who silently agreed to be a substitute. I pretended to wait innocently for his answer. Archer took a deep breath and pushed me away. He seemed to sober up. After a long while, he slowly spat out a few words. “You like it lively, so we’ll invite a few more people…” Before Archer could finish, I lowered my head and took the initiative to kiss him. His look of restraint, forbearance, and aggrieved thoughtfulness for me. It really made me want to bully him hard. Not long after, the hands that were politely placed at his sides just now suddenly tightened around me, pressing me firmly against him. Seamlessly. I was squeezed breathless, deliberately speaking in a muffled voice close to his ear: “Asher, I plan to give myself to you on our anniversary…” Archer, who was working hard, suddenly stiffened. His throat rolled, and he looked up at me. Then he kissed my forehead gently and with restraint. I saw him open his mouth several times, but in the end, it turned into three words: “Okay. Blaire.” I smiled and patted his head. “Good boy.” I got off him and went to the bathroom to tidy up my clothes. Who knew when I came back, standing at the door, I heard a familiar voice. “The anniversary is the day after tomorrow. I have something important to tell Blaire.” “Bring her to that place.” Archer completely dropped the disguise of being obedient in front of me. He asked back nonchalantly: “Why?” “Because you still want to continue being her dog, and she is my dog.” Asher left. I heard the sound of glass shattering inside. Chapter 2 An anniversary should originally be a matter for two people. But Asher invited a bunch of his bros. But they were all in the circle. Everyone knew each other inside out. Even how many times I confessed, and when each time was, they knew clearly. So, when Archer walked in with his arm around me. Everyone present wasn’t very surprised. Because, when I confessed to Asher for the eighth time. It was this group of brothers who came up with the idea for him. I hid behind the door in advance, and a brother specifically stalled Asher. Waiting for me to be ready. Holding flowers, his brothers holding confetti cannons. The door opened. I closed my eyes and recited the confession words I knew by heart in one breath. But this time, “Asher” was different. He froze first, then he smiled. He accepted the flowers I gave. He kissed me. He agreed. Later, I found out that was the second son of the Sterling family. Also Asher Sterling’s twin brother—Archer Sterling. When Archer walked in with his arm around me, everyone was used to it. But there was one person whose gaze was fixed on the palm resting on my shoulder. This person was Asher. As if deliberately provoking me, seeing me come over, he put his hand on the thigh of the girl next to him. But his eyes stared at me unblinkingly. Counting it up. This was the first time I was in a battlefield with both brothers present. I shook Archer’s arm, looking innocent and surprised: “Asher, who is he? Why does he look exactly like you?” Everyone present gasped. Calling his name to his own brother, and being clingy in front of so many brothers. No one could stand it. Especially since this person was the rightful owner of the confession. Asher tutted: “Want to know? Finish this glass of wine, and I’ll tell you.” The real Asher pushed the wine in front of me. Archer didn’t even think. He grabbed the glass and downed it in one gulp. Asher gritted his teeth in anger, but because so many people were there, he finally threw out impatiently: “I am his younger brother… Archer! Sterling!” As the words fell, the real Asher raised a bottle and chugged it. Finished it in one breath, and smashed it on the ground with a bang. Done in one go. The whole room went silent instantly. Everyone didn’t know how to advise for a moment. If Asher hadn’t tacitly agreed to this back then, his group of brothers wouldn’t have come up with any substitute idea. Couldn’t blame anyone else. Just didn’t expect Archer to take it seriously, hadn’t played enough? The person who said hadn’t played enough hadn’t spoken until now. Now he stood up. Archer raised an eyebrow and said nonchalantly: “I’ll go call the waiter. Clean up a bit.” Actually, he didn’t need to go for this. Ordering anyone would do. But right now he just really wanted to smoke. Wanted it badly. I quickly stood up. “I’ll go call. You brothers finally got together, chat more.” I went out and explained the situation to the front desk. She told me to go back first, saying the waiter would come later. But as soon as I stood at the door, I heard it was lively inside. “Asher, do you really not mind that Blaire treats your own brother as you?” Fair-weather friends are good for this; no matter how serious you think things are. But in their eyes, they don’t care at all; it’s just gossip after dinner. Asher pushed away the girl next to him. His brow was pressed very low, unable to see any emotion, just said lightly: “Doesn’t matter. She’s too obedient. So obedient I can’t bring myself to do anything.” “Just right to let my brother help me train her. Train. Her.” Too obedient for him to do anything? Was that why he rejected me seven times? But he clearly admitted himself that he liked obedient ones. I still remember, the graduation party was held at Asher’s private estate. Probably annoyed by being asked by too many girls, he stopped all activities. In front of everyone, he announced his girlfriend standards. I remember clearly, the last sentence he said. [I especially like obedient ones, especially like her.] After speaking, he even put his arm around me and introduced me to everyone with a smile. Intimate movements. I thought he was sincere. Later I found out, that was just him speaking casually. But it trapped me for so many days and nights. I looked up and swept a glance inside. I don’t know when Asher had already sat next to Archer. “Archer Sterling, playing around is fine. You don’t really think you can replace me?” “I dare to bet, with just one word from me. Blaire will crawl over like a dog.” In the corner of the booth, Archer’s brow was pressed very low, biting a cigarette and sneering: “Really? Then I bet five million.” Asher looked like he heard some huge joke. He scoffed: “Even if you bet ten million, the loser in the end will only be you.” “Don’t forget, who does Blaire really like? A substitute is always just a substitute.” Asher was a bit strange today. Strange enough that everyone present didn’t quite understand. Didn’t understand why his words were full of gunpowder. “Bro, haven’t you heard the saying, he who laughs last laughs best?” Asher seemed to be provoked. He glared at Archer and sneered: “Fine, then today we make the first bet.” “Bet whether she spends the anniversary with you or with me?” That gang of brothers all looked at him in unison. “Tell me, if I tell her the whole truth, how will she choose?” Chapter 3 I pushed open the door and walked over pretending nothing happened. Straight to Archer with a smile: “Asher, the waiter will be here in a moment.” The real Asher sneered. He picked up his wine glass and clinked it on the glass table. Everyone’s eyes fell on him. But he locked me with his gaze with interest. “Blaire, if I say, I am the real Asher Sterling, would you go with me?” I didn’t expect him to ask so bluntly. Archer suddenly lifted his eyelids and stared at me. I saw his clenched fists and the uneasiness in his eyes. Asher smiled smugly. If this were a few months ago, I would of course go with him without hesitation. Before meeting Archer, all I thought about was that Asher who said I was obedient. But now, I hesitated. I said, on the anniversary, I would give myself to [Asher Sterling]. But, two faces looking exactly the same, who is Asher? Depends on my mood. Oh, right. Didn’t the real Asher say, with just one word from him, I would crawl over like a dog? Then… crawl over? Only. It’s not me. If he crawls over, what then? I stood up, walked to Asher, and swept him a glance innocently. Then turned to Archer, looked up and sniffed the scent on him carefully. Pretending to identify seriously who was the real [Asher Sterling]. Studied for a long time. Under everyone’s gaze. I hugged Archer’s arm, smiling politely at Asher with a shy face: “Little brother-in-law, stop messing around. I’m in mutual love with your brother. Can’t I tell who is who?” Asher probably never expected. In just three short months. The person rejected by him seven times now dared to reject him in turn? He stood up abruptly, arriving in front of me in a few steps. Archer immediately blocked in front of me. I tugged at Archer, tilting my head timidly. Mumbling softly: “Actually… there is another way, just don’t know if you two are willing to try?” “What?” Asher asked impatiently. “Heard that… if the other party really cares about someone, they will be obedient to her. Like a puppy…” I looked down picking my fingers, staring at my toes: “Then… would you be willing…” Forget it, dog crawling is a bit humiliating. “Willing to… bark like a dog to make me happy.” “Impossible.” Asher gritted his teeth. “Woof…” I hurriedly raised my hand to cover Archer’s mouth. Embarrassing to death. I smiled at the person opposite: “See. Obviously you are not. My Asher is an obedient puppy. He wouldn’t make me sad.” The real Asher was so angry he smashed his phone on the spot. Full of hostility, he strode out. Archer wrapped his arm around my waist, whispering bewitchingly in my ear: “Blaire was frightened today, I’ll reward you well when we go back.” “Don’t want to.” “Really? Who said they wanted to give themselves to me?” Chapter 4 I was stuffed into his red Ferrari supercar by Archer. Don’t know if he was anxious to go home, the car roared away instantly. “Asher, how come I never knew you had a brother who looks exactly like you?” Archer steered with one hand. Face full of carelessness. “Mn. Although twins, interests and everything are completely different. Don’t take today’s words to heart…” I lowered my head and actively kissed his side profile, voice muffled: “Just weirdly annoying, having the same face as you, but saying such words…” Archer raised his hand to touch my lips. Just about to kiss over. I pushed him. “Still in the car, drive properly.” A thirty-minute drive was compressed into fifteen minutes by him. Just closed the door, I was pressed against the door by Archer, he captured my lips and kissed hard. He anxiously tried to undo my buttons. Suddenly a knock on the door. “Open up, I’m your brother.” It was Asher’s voice. Hearing this sentence, Archer got even more energetic. He kissed desperately hard and heavy. Covering my ears with both hands, not letting me hear. Only immersed in the pleasure with him. I was kissed breathless by him, wanted to push him away, but was treated ruthlessly by him. I tried desperately to catch a breath, but could only whimper. Outside became quiet instantly. Immediately followed by someone kicking and punching the door. Separated by a door. Archer kissed me to death. Outside the door, Asher’s eyes were red. “Archer Sterling, you substitute, do you really think you can replace me?” No one answered. After a long while, the person outside sneered: “She’s playing you, can’t you feel it?” Archer was like crazy tonight, no longer the gentle puppy from before, But transformed into a very aggressive hungry wolf. Not long after, he and I fell on the sofa. Three buttons undone, chest suddenly cold. I pushed him with the last shred of reason. “Seems like someone outside…” Archer took off the undershirt inside with one hand, threw it aside casually, and leaned over to kiss recklessly. “No one. Knocked on the wrong door.” I hugged his neck and met him. Tonight’s Archer was very strange. Like competing with someone. He was like a big dog with exploded fur. Especially anxious… The three-plus months with him. Although we didn’t take the last step, every time he would take special care of my feelings. Even if he endured until he was about to explode, he would take a two-hour cold shower with red ears. Then hold me, body scarily hot, but do nothing. But tonight he was different. How gentle he was before, how crazy he is now. I pressed his hand that continued downwards. The interrupted Archer looked up, looking at me dissatisfied with red eyes. “Not giving?” I raised my hand to touch his head, cupping his face. Laughed at him: “Then do you want it?” Archer’s body paused abruptly, whole body scarily hot. “You dare give, I dare take.” “Oh, you don’t want it.” Archer was anxious. With a block of his big hand, he easily caught me back into his arms. He picked up my legs, lying behind my ear. Speaking in a muffled voice: “Dreaming of wanting it…”

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A headline was trending at #1 on X (formerly Twitter): [Is Quentin Stone strictly platonic?] The top comment read: [Don’t make Quentin laugh, please.] Attached was a photo of him looking at his co-star, Natalie Quay. His gaze was predatory, intense, and anything but platonic. Even I got dragged into it. A reporter shoved a mic in my face: “As the lead in Quentin’s very first drama, do you think he’s a platonic kind of guy?” I froze for a second, then gave a vague, safe answer: “I guess… He’s a nice guy, very respectful to his colleagues.” Because of that, his fans tore me apart. Thousands of comments called me a “washed-up has-been” chasing clout, accusing me of being jealous of his current romance. Later, on a reality TV show, the question came up again. I gave my perfect, PR-approved answer: “As for him? I really wouldn’t know.” Quentin, sitting across the room, slowly lifted his heavy eyelids. “Whether I’m platonic or not… you don’t know?” 1. #IsQuentinStonePlatonic skyrocketed up the trending list. The comments were unanimous: [Don’t make our boy laugh.] [Stop spreading clean rumors about Quentin, okay?] [Quentin: What position is ‘Platonic’?] [He looks like the type who wouldn’t stop even if you begged.] [Spoiler: He definitely doesn’t stop.] My agent clicked off the trending page with a blank expression and slid the tablet toward me. I paused, then slowly scrolled down. [I’m done. The way Quentin looks at Natalie? He wants to devour her. And someone said he’s platonic???] [Some washed-up Z-lister is just jealous…] [Maya is so messy. Yeah, she was the lead in his first show when he was nineteen, and I used to ship them. But now? She looks like she swallowed a lemon.] [That was then. Look at Quentin’s status now. He’s an A-lister.] [Miss Maya is going to be on the same variety show as my ship ‘Quen-Nat’. I’m begging her not to ruin the vibe…] [Impossible. She’s definitely going to throw herself at him to hype up some old news.] “You have two paths right now,” my agent said, her face grim. “Embrace the villain edit and go for the ‘all press is good press’ route. Or, tuck your tail between your legs in front of Quentin and Natalie, and minimize your existence.” I gave a low hum of acknowledgment. My agent gritted her teeth. “Did you leave your brain at home when you answered that reporter?” I sighed. “What was I supposed to say? That Quentin is definitely not platonic?” She rolled her eyes. “You could have just said ‘no comment’ or ‘I don’t know’!” I froze. Right. It was precisely because I knew too well that the neutral answers didn’t even cross my mind. I instinctively chose to lie. “Forget it,” she waved her hand. “Blame the reporters for baiting you for clicks.” Since he was nineteen, Quentin’s career had been a straight shot to the stratosphere. He was Hollywood royalty now. But whenever people discussed his love life, I got dragged out of the grave. Because every other leading lady he worked with had a pleasant, professional relationship with him. Except me. I was the first. And when we ended, it was a hurricane. We tore each other apart with zero regard for old times. As time passed, even the hatred faded. We became strangers with no emotional ripples. Until recently. Quentin and Natalie’s new movie hit theaters. They weren’t playing a couple, but their chemistry was electric. They were enemies-to-lovers gold. It attracted a massive fanbase. To promote their upcoming TV drama, they signed up for a reality show called The Villa. Coincidentally, the show invited me too. 2. Inside the massive Beverly Hills rental. I sat quietly in the corner. Until Quentin and Natalie made their grand entrance together, the finale act. Everyone stood up to greet them. I stood up too, but I kept my mouth shut. Natalie walked straight up to me, extending a hand with a smile. “You must be Maya Wells, right? I’ve heard so much about you.” The atmosphere turned weird instantly. I smiled back. “Hi.” Quentin glanced in my direction—careless, indifferent—then sat down diagonally across from me. He didn’t say hi. I didn’t say hi. Natalie nodded, then turned and sat right next to Quentin. I remembered my agent’s warning. Do not look at Quentin. If I did, I’d just be a prop in their love story, and the audience would roast me for being jealous. Another actress, Lauren, who was close with Natalie, smiled and asked me: “By the way, Maya, do you have any representative works lately?” Representative works? I had just wrapped an indie project, but it hadn’t aired yet. Besides that… Seven years ago, the web series Quentin and I did exploded out of nowhere. The view counts were insane. Even after a seven-year gap where I wasn’t acting in the States, people still knew my name. “No,” I said calmly. Silence filled the room. I felt a heavy gaze land on me. I smiled and repeated, “I have a new show airing later this year, but before that? Nothing recently.” I knew better than to mention Quentin or that show. I’d just be accused of clout chasing again. Natalie instinctively glanced at Quentin. Seeing no reaction, she smiled brightly. “We’ll definitely support it when it airs.” “Thanks so much,” I said politely. Natalie didn’t say more, turning to whisper something to Quentin. The other guests all wore faces that said, OMG, I ship them so hard. The cameras were glued to them. I let out a breath and quietly observed them. Seven years. Quentin hadn’t changed much physically, just looked sharper, more mature. But he still had that air of nonchalance. When he wasn’t smiling, his eyes held a distinct aggression. Like right now. I could tell instantly—he was in a terrible mood. But whatever Natalie whispered made his expression soften. There was a reason Natalie was called “Quentin’s Perfect Co-star.” A beautiful, gentle sweetheart. She really did look good with him. I looked away. 3. Before filming the second episode, I checked the comments from the first week. [I’m done. Is Maya playing hard to get? Who doesn’t know she did that show with Quentin years ago?] [Trying to get his attention, obviously~] [Actually, nobody cares about her.] [LMAO, Maya tried to create a moment, but did you see Quentin’s glare? He looked disgusted and annoyed.] [Brother Quentin probably knew his sweet variety show date was going to be ruined the moment he saw her.] [Only our kind angel Natalie would bother talking to her.] …Miscalculation. How am I still getting roasted?! I was invited by the director! For the ratings! For the paycheck! I didn’t come here to break up their happy home! Seeing my face drop, Natalie walked over to me. Her tone was soft, but her words were blunt. “Since you quit the industry, why come back? Why not stay gone?” Only she and I could hear the volume. I paused, feeling the hostility. “I have no intention of stealing Quentin from you,” I said sincerely. “My relationship with him is terrible.” Her smile faded slightly, her almond eyes staring straight at me. “Steal?” She parted her lips gently. “You really think highly of yourself.” She turned and walked away. I watched her leave, only to lock eyes with Quentin, who wasn’t far off. He didn’t look away. His dark eyes swept over me. Cold. Detached. Only when Natalie spoke to him did he finally withdraw his gaze. I lowered my eyes. … Today’s theme: Cozy Villa Night – Truth or Dare. I had a bad feeling about this. The game started. Natalie lost several times. She was mostly asked about her first impressions of Quentin, funny stories from their set—easy, ship-building questions. I started to relax. Looks like I’m safe. Until Quentin lost. An actor laughed. “Truth or Dare?” “Dare,” Quentin said flatly. The room erupted. He was the first person to pick Dare. The actor didn’t ask a question but drew a card from the deck. [Stare into the eyes of a member of the opposite sex for 10 seconds.] Everyone cheered and laughed. I laughed along with them. I was laughing right up until I realized Quentin was looking at me. Me: “……?” His brow lifted slightly, his gaze landing on my face like a feather that weighed a ton. I froze. A slow smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Just as his lips parted to speak. I immediately stood up. “Sorry, stomach cramp. Bathroom run.” I walked out fast. I knew Quentin wouldn’t actually pick me. But for a second, my heart skipped a beat. I instinctively fled. I stayed away for ten minutes. By the time I returned, they’d played several rounds. Quentin and Natalie must have done the stare. I exhaled. Unexpectedly, I lost the very next round. I decisively picked Truth. If I picked Dare and got something weird, I was doomed. The next second. Lauren, Natalie’s bestie, asked: “Maya, I saw your interview earlier where you said Quentin was ‘Platonic.’ Why did you say that?” She asked it with such innocent curiosity. I stiffened. She was dragging up the thing I got roasted for, putting me on the spot to embarrass me again. I was silent for a moment, then shook my head. “I didn’t hear the question clearly that day. I answered too carelessly.” But she wasn’t letting me off the hook. “Well, you hear it clearly now. What do you think?” No one saved me. Even the directors nearby were waiting for my answer. They wanted high engagement ratings. I paused for a long time, then pasted on a smile. My answer was objective and distant. “As for him? I really wouldn’t know.” She scoffed, clearly unsatisfied. The other guests looked slightly disappointed at the lack of drama. Natalie kept a polite smile on her face, saying nothing. Just as I sighed in relief, thinking it was over. Quentin slowly lifted his eyelids. “Whether I am platonic or not… you don’t know?” I froze instantly. The room was so quiet you could hear everyone breathing. I moved my lips. Nothing came out. Quentin leaned back against the sofa, tilting his chin up to lock eyes with me. His voice was cold as ice. “Maya, you don’t know?” Did I know? Of course I knew. The boy who tasted forbidden fruit didn’t know how to stop at just a taste. After we turned eighteen, Quentin would keep me up all night, tireless. In the heat of the moment, he would hold me tight, his voice husky: “Maya, I love you… I love you so much.” I wasn’t good with words, so I’d just stretch my neck, dizzily pressing my lips to his. We were too young then. We had nothing. We couldn’t even see tomorrow clearly, yet we made countless promises never to leave each other. So when the vows broke, only cruelty and embarrassment remained. But right here, right now. My past with Quentin—that hate, that love—should I know it? I was here only as a foil for him and Natalie. I just needed to play the pale, villainous extra in their story, observing their happiness. That was all. I looked at Quentin quietly and didn’t speak. Natalie gently tugged his sleeve. “We’re filming. Even if you’re angry, don’t show it now.” Quentin didn’t move. His eyes were nailed to me. It seemed he wouldn’t stop until I gave an answer. The temperature in the villa plummeted. Even the director wiped sweat from his forehead, confused by the vibe. Finally, I spoke, articulating every word. “I. Don’t. Know.” The light in Quentin’s eyes went dark instantly. I continued, “Mr. Stone, our past conflicts are in the past. I hope to finish filming this variety show smoothly with you and everyone else. And I hope you won’t make things hard for me… because of the past.” I whispered the last few words. Quentin pulled his lips into a cold, thin smile. The shadow across his brow threatened to consume everything. “Make things hard for you?” He slowly closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he looked past me with utter indifference. “Are you even worthy of me making things hard for you?” He stood up and left. Everyone else stared, stunned. Finally, Natalie bit her lip and followed him. Filming was paused. 4. I was ready to be fired by the production team. Quentin hated my guts. If he asked for me to be cut, the showrunners would agree in a heartbeat, ratings be damned. But surprisingly, I stayed. The night before the reshoots for episode two, everyone was in the villa. Natalie knocked on my door. She closed it, crossed her arms, and leaned against the wall, eyeing me. “We’ve talked to the directors. That part will be cut. Don’t dream of using it to boost your fame.” “I didn’t think that,” I said. How could they think getting humiliated is a career boost? I’d be lucky not to be bullied off the internet. Natalie sneered. “I really want to know what you did to make him hate you this much.” Before I could speak, she continued. “Since you left back then, why reappear in front of him? Because you’re failing now and want to get something out of him. Right?” I frowned. “If you came here just to say this, you can leave.” “Stay away from him.” Natalie looked at me with disgust. “I finally got him in a good mood. Don’t make him unhappy the second he sees you.” I stayed silent. Did she think I was happy seeing him? Before leaving, she looked down at me and dropped one last line: “When Quentin was with me, he was never this unhappy.” She turned and left. I rubbed my forehead. Why so much drama? But hearing her words, I felt a pang of irony. Quentin once said he only felt happy when he was with me. That only around me could he smile. Times really have changed. I locked the door, lay on the bed, and stretched. Then I texted my agent: [Ann, I’m following orders~ A few hiccups, but it’s all Quentin acting crazy.] She replied quickly: [Okay. What did he do?] Me: [Hard to explain. He just hates the sight of me. Feels like he wants to skin me alive just for existing.] My agent paused for a few minutes before replying: [Really? I’ve been in this industry for years. I’ve never heard of Quentin hating anyone this much. You’re the first. And the only one.] …Should I thank him for the honor? I closed the chat and scrolled through my feed. I saw a post from an actor I knew: [Thanks to Quentin for treating the whole crew to dinner! Working with Quentin and Natalie was a delight. Great chemistry. Hope to work together again!] The photo showed a dozen people at a restaurant. Quentin and Natalie stood in the center, very close. Natalie was smiling brightly, eyes curved into crescents. She was right. Quentin looked much more relaxed beside her. I turned off my phone.

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Because I took an opportunity the heroine tossed aside, a stream of comments scrolling before my eyes branded me the “Life Thief.” Now, in my second life, the heroine is fighting tooth and nail for everything. And the comment stream is gloating. 【This time, our girl’s life won’t be stolen!】 But for someone who’s been reborn, she hasn’t learned a single thing, has she? … When I opened my eyes, I was twenty again. A fresh college graduate, sitting in the lobby of the Pierce Corporation for a job interview. I stared at my young, smooth hands, a wave of shock and elation washing over me. The next second, a series of glowing comments floated past my vision. 【Ugh, the first life was so disgusting to watch!】 【I know, right? How did that thief steal all of the heroine’s opportunities?】 【Thank God for rebirth! Now our girl can finally protect the life that was meant to be hers!】 … I watched the comments scroll by, utterly baffled. Heroine? Thief? What were they talking about? It took me a moment to piece it together. The “thieving side character” was me. And their precious “heroine” was Isabelle Price. My gaze drifted across the hallway. Isabelle was sitting right there, looking around with the same dazed confusion as me. I realized it instantly. She had been reborn, too. 【Why is the thief staring at our heroine?】 【She probably noticed her acting weird after being reborn.】 【Oh no! Don’t tell me she’s going to steal her opportunities again! I’m gonna puke!】 … That one glance unleashed a flood of dozens of new comments, some of them shockingly vulgar. The more I read, the angrier I got. Who were these people? And when had I ever stolen anything from Isabelle Price? Just then, Isabelle stood up and walked toward me. I watched her approach, my guard instantly up. We’d had a few interactions in our past life, but we were never close. Now, the way she was looking at me sent an uncomfortable chill down my spine. “Stella,” she began, her voice dripping with arrogance. “We meet again.” “This time, I won’t be giving up the opportunities that rightfully belong to me. You should probably just go home. Don’t waste your time here.” She finished with a sigh, her expression shifting to one of pity. “Although, I suppose the you of right now wouldn’t understand any of this.” Then, without another word, she turned and walked into the interview room, leaving me completely bewildered. She meant I’d stolen her opportunities in our past life? A few incidents immediately came to mind. But if I remembered correctly… Weren’t those the opportunities she had thrown away herself? In our past life, just like today, we had both interviewed for the same position at the Pierce Corporation. I was rejected. Disappointed, I was heading home when the HR manager came chasing after me, telling me to stay. Overjoyed and confused, I followed her back, only to listen to her vent the entire way. According to her, Isabelle and I had scored almost identically in the final round. But since Isabelle was a local, they had decided to give the offer to her. The problem was, as soon as Isabelle found out she’d gotten the job, she demanded an outrageously high starting salary. She said she was worth it. The HR manager tried to reason with her, explaining the company’s incentive programs for new talent and pointing out that her demand was far above the industry standard for a recent graduate. But Isabelle wouldn’t budge. She issued an ultimatum: either they met her price, or she would walk. The HR manager was so exasperated that she just gave in, agreed to the terms, and showed her the door as fast as she could. And just like that, the opportunity to work at Pierce Corp fell into my lap. So, that was me stealing from her? She had torpedoed her own chances! I finally understood the HR manager’s frustration. The sheer audacity of it gave me a stomachache. The comments continued their relentless scroll. 【LOL, look at the thief’s face! She looks so pissed!】 【Useless trash! I love seeing her get owned!】 【Thieves should just die! I hate it when someone steals what isn’t theirs!】 … Like idol, like fan, I guess. I almost laughed out of sheer anger. I was so disgusted I didn’t even know how to respond. Just as I was stewing in my own indignation, Isabelle emerged from the interview room. She looked calm and composed, which only made me feel worse, like I’d swallowed a fly. The truth was, she wasn’t incompetent. The HR manager in our past life had admitted that our interview performances were neck and neck. As long as she didn’t act like a lunatic, the job was likely hers. Of course, I wasn’t a naive college grad anymore. This position at Pierce wasn’t the be-all and end-all for me now. But the thought of her and that comment stream gloating was a bitter pill to swallow. Case in point, they were already celebrating in my face. 【Perfect! Our girl nailed it this time!】 【Amazing! Her reactions and answers were almost identical to the last life!】 【Looks like the thief is out of luck!】 … But what they said made me pause. Nailed it? Identical to the last life? Seriously, girl? A second chance at life, and you haven’t learned a single thing? You’re just running the same old plays? “Stella Reed? We’re ready for you.” The HR manager’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts. “Coming,” I replied, instantly pushing all thoughts of Isabelle out of my mind. In my previous life, I had worked my way up from the bottom to become the Vice President of the Pierce Corporation. I knew every gear in that machine, every flaw, every inefficiency. My biggest regret was that I hadn’t been able to push the company to even greater heights. I had thought Isabelle’s interference would cost me that chance in this life. But since she had shown zero growth… Then I would be the one to correct the regrets of my past. As I walked into the office, I saw Isabelle shoot me a triumphant, mocking smile. She wouldn’t be smiling for long. My interview was a resounding success. An understatement, actually. The HR manager’s eyes lit up as I spoke, and she repeatedly told me I was exactly the kind of talent Pierce Corp needed. I was more than satisfied with my own performance. My answers were sharper, more insightful than they had been even in my first life. But the moment I stepped out of the room, my good mood evaporated. Isabelle was looking at me with that same pitying expression. “You tried your best, Stella,” she said slowly. “But it’s a shame. This position can only be mine.” I really, truly wanted to ask her how she managed to be so incredibly smug. But the comment stream interrupted me again. 【In the last life, the thief stole the heroine’s job, and she ended up miserable.】 【It’s finally the thief’s turn to suffer this time, right?】 【Hehe, I can’t wait to see the thief fail.】 … A hot flash of anger surged through me. What was wrong with these people? Wasn’t Isabelle the one who was so confident that if Pierce Corp didn’t want her, some other company would snap her up? She was the one who screwed up, lost her job, and now she was blaming me? What did I even do? Oh, right. I was being called a thief precisely because I hadn’t done anything. If I actually had, they’d probably want me drawn and quartered. The thought, strangely, calmed me down. I ignored Isabelle completely and returned to my seat. I was seething, but this was a corporate office. Starting a brawl wasn’t the best look. Besides, the most satisfying revenge would be the look on her face when the HR manager announced the final decision. I couldn’t wait to see it. While my darker thoughts churned, the interviews continued. The number of applicants was huge, mainly because the heir to the Pierce Corporation, Adrian Pierce, had just officially taken the reins. A new boss always meant big changes. He needed a loyal team to shake things up and clean house. Everyone was hoping to get in on the ground floor of the new era. And this heir, Adrian Pierce… Happened to be my husband in my past life. Just then, the door to the conference room opened, pulling me from my thoughts. But it wasn’t the HR manager who emerged. It was a tall, lean man in a tailored suit. His gaze was sharp, his features severe. As his eyes swept across the waiting area, the air grew thick, and everyone seemed to hold their breath. There was no mistaking him. It was the heir himself, Adrian Pierce. 【Wait, why is the male lead here???】 【Could it be because our heroine did so well?】 【That has to be it! The thief won’t be able to steal the male lead this time!】 … As another round of comments flew by, my brow furrowed. What did that mean? Adrian and Isabelle had some kind of history too? My gaze, when it landed on Adrian, was instantly filled with scorn. Tainted goods. Not interested. For some reason, our eyes met. His widened for a fraction of a second, a look of utter confusion on his face. He clearly didn’t understand the derision in my stare. I coolly looked away. Whatever. Let’s just see how this plays out. “Ahem.” Adrian cleared his throat. “Good afternoon. I assume you all know who I am, so I’ll skip the introductions.” “I have two announcements to make.” “First, after reviewing the final round of interviews, we have decided to extend an offer to only one candidate.” His voice was a low baritone, but it made every heart in the room pound. I stared at his lips, trying to read the name before he said it. But the name that came out was… “…Isabelle Price.” The comment stream exploded. 【HAHAHA! It’s our girl! Of course it is!】 【Ahhh, so satisfying! I can finally breathe again!】 【Look at the thief’s face! God, I love it! More! More!】 … Isabelle stood up, a picture of demure grace, and shot me a glance over her shoulder. The meaning in her eyes was unmistakable. Pure, unadulterated gloating. But I didn’t feel hurt. Instead, a wave of profound disappointment in Adrian washed over me. My analysis during the interview had cut straight to the core of Pierce Corp’s problems—many of the points were insights that Adrian and I had spent years developing together in our past life. And yet, he still chose her. I immediately stood up and turned to leave. If Pierce Corp didn’t choose me, there was no reason to stay. But just as I reached the door, Adrian’s voice stopped me. “Miss Reed. You can’t leave yet.” “I’d like to discuss the points you made during your interview in greater detail. Would you care to join me in my office?” I turned back. What I saw was Adrian’s sincere, expectant expression. And Isabelle’s face, contorted with shock and venomous hatred.

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The day after my D&C, I was scrolling through a late-night forum when I came across a thread. “What’s your partner’s ultimate Get-Out-of-Jail-Free Card?” I paused, typing out a response: “The time he shielded me during the Ariel City Collapse…” But then, a newer, explosive comment snagged my attention. “I’m a high-end companion, and I’ve found true love. He’s gorgeous, loaded, and booked me for thirty years straight. He’s obsessed, keeps my legs shaking and my back aching!” “His death immunity? Easy. His wife finally got pregnant after years of grueling IVF, and I just casually mentioned I didn’t want some kid competing with me for his attention. So, he forged the NIPT report, convinced her the baby had Trisomy 21, and pressured her into a late-term abortion.” She followed it up with a picture. Under the dim, expensive bar lighting, a man’s large, clearly defined hand was wrapped tightly around the woman’s waist. “He can’t even sleep unless he’s holding me now, honestly. He’s utterly dependent.” My entire body went cold. Every drop of blood in my veins solidified when I saw the jagged, pale scar that ran across the back of the man’s hand. It was the exact, unmistakable scar my husband, Hudson Miller, had gotten saving me during the collapse. … 1 The comments section was a battlefield of rage. Instead of shame, the woman—who went by “ZoeyLane” on the platform—doubled down, flaunting her conquest with venomous arrogance. “I’m the other woman? Funny. The one who isn’t loved is the real third wheel, sweetie! I’ll do anything for true love—what’s wrong with that? You’re all just jealous I snagged such a high-value man.” When someone agreed with her, she replied, ecstatic: “See? You get it, babe! His wife has fertility issues; that kid was her last shot after five years of IVF. She cried and prayed for that baby, and I made him get rid of it with a single sentence. If that’s not true love, what is?” “His wife will never get pregnant again naturally, but he promised me I’m the only one who will ever bear his child.” “LOL. I’ll share my experience once I’m settled in the penthouse. Gotta go now—he’s calling for me. Time to go satisfy my man.” I stared, rigid, at the screen, a core of ice forming in my chest. Just a week ago, I was at home, resting, trying to hold onto my five-month pregnancy. Hudson had returned with a look of utter defeat, handing me the printout. The diagnosis: positive for Down Syndrome. My world shattered then. I’d collapsed onto the floor, screaming until my throat was raw, begging Hudson if there was any way—any way—to save the baby. He had held me, his face buried in my hair, his eyes red and wet. “Sia, it’s the amnio report. It’s definitive. We can’t bring a child into this world just to suffer. We have to terminate.” He had held my hand through the entire procedure. My five-month-old baby—the one I’d waited five years for—became a mangled mess of tissue and blood. For the past week, I’d been a ghost, the grief a physical, suffocating weight. Hudson had canceled everything, hovering over me until today, when he finally felt my emotional state had stabilized enough to go back to the office. Staring at that picture, I dug my nails into my palm, biting my tongue until I tasted copper. Only pain could alleviate the choking terror. Once the initial shock passed, I did the only thing I could: I followed ZoeyLane’s account. Then, I sent Hudson a text. “Still at the office?” He replied instantly: “Yeah, swamped. Why, babe?” I didn’t reply. I called an Uber and headed straight for his office downtown. Years of love, decades of history—I couldn’t let a few toxic comments destroy that. I needed to see his face. I needed to know. I ran into his assistant, Ben, in the lobby. “Mrs. Miller? You’re here?” Ben looked genuinely surprised. I didn’t speak, just brushed past him and entered the private elevator, riding it up to Hudson’s executive floor. I pushed the door open. The scene I expected—an empty office, proving his lie—was not what I found. Hudson was there, seated behind his vast mahogany desk, his expression sharp and focused. When he heard the door, he looked up, his brow lifting in surprise. His tone was light, playful. “Well, hello, Mrs. Miller. What’s this? Checking up on your husband? Didn’t think you were the ‘pop-in’ type.” Seeing his familiar face, the agonizing tension I’d carried all the way across the city finally broke. Relief and agonizing regret flooded through me. My eyes burned, and I started, instinctively, to walk toward him, ready to collapse into his arms. “Don’t come closer!” Hudson’s sudden, hoarse shout cut me off. I froze. He was pinching the bridge of his nose, his face contorted in discomfort. “Seriously, sweetie. I think I’ve caught that brutal flu that’s going around. You’re recovering from surgery; your immune system is shot. Don’t get near me.” He really did look terrible. Sweat beaded on his forehead, his breathing was shallow and rapid, and his face was flushed a deep red. He was issuing low, strained groans. My heart immediately went out to him. “Hudson, maybe we should go to the ER. You look terrible.” But then, my gaze drifted to the side. The vast, glossy glass wall that overlooked Ariel City was a perfect mirror. And in the reflection, I saw a woman’s head, partially obscured beneath his desk. 2 A chill, more profound than any fear, started at the base of my spine and crept up to the roots of my hair, freezing my tears in place. It took every ounce of my self-control not to scream. “You know what? Never mind. I just got a sharp, stabbing pain in my side. I think… I need to go home.” Without waiting for his response, I fled. It wasn’t a walk—it was a frantic escape. The moment I hit the street, I realized it was pouring rain. My foot slipped, and I hit the pavement, landing hard in a puddle. I didn’t care about the cold or the pain in my hip. It was nothing compared to the agony in my chest. The phone vibrated. It was Zoey. She had posted a new video with a caption: “Daddy’s so smart. He knew his wife would check up on him, so he had his assistant warn us. Not that I was scared. Right under her nose—it was the hottest thing ever.” I clicked the video. Her voice, a low, playful purr, filled the audio. “Was that thrilling, Baby? Having your wife right there?” “Stop messing around,” the man’s voice, raw and strained, chided her. “We were almost discovered.” But beneath the harsh tone, a tremor of undeniable affection and pride was present. I bit down on my lip until the metallic taste of my own blood coated my tongue. Soaked to the bone, I made it back to the house and called the hospital. “Hello. I’m calling about the amniocentesis report I had two weeks ago. I just wanted to confirm there were no administrative issues.” The nurse’s voice was gentle, professional. “Oh, yes, Mrs. Cole. Everything was perfectly fine. The baby was perfectly healthy. Didn’t you see the report? It was emailed directly to your husband.” The baby was perfectly healthy. Those five words, light as air, felt like five separate shards of glass stabbing into my heart. A tidal wave of nausea hit me. I slammed the phone down and ran to the bathroom, vomiting until I was dizzy and weak. Five years of IVF. Over five hundred needles. The endless hope. The daily, desperate prayers for a child. All of it—a monstrous, elaborate joke. The malice of it climbed over my skin. Huddled over the toilet, I laughed and cried, a manic, broken sound. I eventually took a scalding shower, then retreated to the bedroom to search Zoey’s account. Her early posts were typical of an escort—highly curated, provocative photos. But the ones related to Hudson—Zoey’s “Daddy”—were the poison. One, from a year ago: She posted a picture of an employee badge. Zoey Lane. The caption: “Landed a new gig! Time to clock in with my investor!” Another, six months ago: It was our wedding anniversary. Hudson had told me he was stuck at the office. I scrolled through Zoey’s feed and saw a picture of him with her—not at the office, but on a weekend getaway in Laguna Beach. The caption was a kissy face emoji. That night, he’d brought home my favorite takeout—which I now realized was their leftovers. The phone screen went dark, reflecting my tear-streaked face. Hudson came home late. “Still awake? Does your stomach still hurt?” The moment his hand touched my arm, I flinched away. He frowned, a flash of impatience crossing his features. “What now, Sia? I’m exhausted. We can’t do this tonight. Save the drama for tomorrow. I need to sleep.” After he fell into a deep, heavy sleep, I reached for the phone on his nightstand. I typed my birthday. Password Incorrect. The rejection felt like a slap. Desperation fueling me, I found Zoey’s birthdate on one of her public profiles. I typed it in. Unlocked. In his messages, the contact “Baby Zo” was pinned to the top. I scrolled up. The filth was endless. Three days ago: “Baby, can’t you sneak away tonight? Your miserable wife is being such a warden.” “Easy, Baby. Just a few more days. She can’t be left alone right now.” This morning: “I need you now. I’m wearing the sheer silk set you love. Hurry.” 3 I tortured myself, reading every word. I clamped my jaws shut, but a choked sob escaped anyway. Next to me, Hudson woke instantly and, practically in his sleep, pulled me against his chest, stroking my hair. “What is it, sweetie? Still upset about the baby? I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” His embrace was warm, his hand, with that brutal, jagged scar, was steady on my back. My mind spun back to the Ariel City Collapse. The teenaged Hudson, running toward me through the dust-choked air, throwing himself on top of me. The boulder that crashed onto his arm. He hadn’t made a sound, but his hot, dark blood had splashed onto my cheek. We’d been trapped for two days. He was in agony, every breath a struggle, yet he kept whispering, over and over: “Sia, don’t be afraid. We’re getting out. If I… if I can’t hold on, you drink my blood, you eat my flesh. Just promise me you’ll survive.” He loved me so desperately then. The memory, The Defining Moment, had been my Golden Ticket for him, granting him eternal absolution. How did everything change so completely? I lay there, stiff in his arms, watching the sky lighten. At breakfast, I asked him a casual question. “Do you know a Zoey Lane?” Hudson’s body tensed, but he recovered instantly, spooning me a bowl of oatmeal. His tone was dismissive. “Yeah. Ben’s been swamped, so she’s a new administrative assistant. Why?” His attempt at indifference was perfect. I decided, in that moment, to give him one last chance, for the sake of that teenage boy in the rubble. I took a spoonful of the oatmeal and said, my voice cold, “Fire her. I don’t like her.” Hudson frowned, his mask slipping. “She’s just a glorified runner. Is that really necessary?” “Yes. It is necessary. I don’t want her here.” “CRASH—” Hudson slammed his ceramic bowl down. Shards scattered, one nicking my cheek and drawing blood. His voice was suddenly shrill, enraged. “You don’t like her? What the hell did she do? She’s a perfectly normal, hardworking assistant. I have bent over backward to accommodate your grief, but are you seriously being this ridiculous, Sierra? You’re demanding I fire an innocent woman just because she’s a woman? You’re going to empty out the entire company of female staff just to appease your paranoia?” My ears rang. In all our years together, this was the first time Hudson had ever exploded at me. His face was a mask of pure hate. I stared at him, my eyes welling up. “Funny. Are you touching your conscience when you say you two are innocent? Is she your assistant, or your goddamn…” “Enough!” Hudson violently shoved the entire table, sending dishes flying. His eyes were full of contempt. “I think your anxiety is flaring up again. It’s the depression. You’re being delusional and irrational! Always looking for a problem!” He grabbed his keys and stormed out, slamming the door. I sank to the floor, my heart hammering. Depression. That word was my deepest trauma. Years ago, when we first moved to Ariel City, Hudson’s fledgling architecture firm was just taking off, only to have his work stolen. In my panic to save him from financial ruin, I went to confront the thief. In the ensuing struggle, I fell down a flight of stairs and lost our first baby. That was the first time I saw Hudson truly break. He knelt by my hospital bed, sobbing, snot and tears mixing, whispering desperate apologies. That loss triggered my clinical depression. I was inconsolable, constantly harming myself, unable to cope with the loss of the child. Hudson lost his work. He drove for GrubHub during the day and nursed me back to health at night. Later, the original manuscript was recovered, his name was cleared, and he started his own firm. My depression slowly faded, but the injury to my abdomen left me unable to carry a child without medical assistance. It was the darkest period of my life. I never imagined the man who offered to sacrifice his life for mine in the rubble would one day intentionally kill our second child. And then use the memory of my deepest pain—my depression—to stab me again. I wiped my tears and walked into the study. I needed to print the divorce papers. The Golden Ticket had finally expired. 4 I wanted a quiet ending. But Zoey wouldn’t allow it. She sent a friend request with a chilling message: I’m pregnant. My face went white. I clenched my fists and accepted the request. She immediately sent several messages, starting with a copy of a prenatal scan. “Three weeks along. Guess those expired contraceptives did the trick. Unlike you, Ms. Cole, my little one is naturally conceived. A golden child.” “Honestly, I wasn’t planning on getting pregnant so fast, but here we are. You should do Hudson a favor and file for divorce. He’s ecstatic about this baby.” “Oh, and speaking of ecstatic: Hudson is throwing a small celebration for us tomorrow at The Grand Regent Hotel. Nine AM. It’s an engagement party. You’re welcome to attend.” She attached a photo. Hudson was holding the ultrasound printout, his eyes wet, his expression the picture of tender, overwhelming love. Even when I was pregnant, he had never looked at me like that. I gripped the phone, a visceral, churning hatred spreading through me. My baby was brutally murdered, and they were celebrating their ‘true love’ with a new one. A wedding… Hudson and I hadn’t even had a proper wedding. We were too poor then. No time, no money. I swallowed down the blood in my mouth. Hudson didn’t come home that night. He only sent a text: Working late. Won’t be back. I sat in the dark living room all night. At nine the next morning, I drove to The Grand Regent Hotel. Zoey was even more radiant than in her photos. She wore a slinky white gown, and a cascade of diamonds circled her slender neck. Hudson was in a crisp dark suit, effortlessly mingling, a flute of champagne in his hand. In that moment, everything I had suppressed—the grief, the rage, the betrayal—broke. I charged the stage. In Hudson’s stunned gaze, I slapped Zoey, hard, twice. “Sierra! What the hell are you doing? Have you lost your mind?!” Hudson violently pushed me away, turning to shield Zoey in his arms. I fell, ignoring the sharp twinge in my abdomen, and scrambled up, my hand flying out to slap him across the face. Under his dark, menacing stare, I started to laugh, a wild, broken sound. “What, hurt your little girlfriend? Good. She deserved it. Both of you! This woman is a whore, a high-end escort, a rotten piece of trash who sleeps with anyone who pays her. She’s not just a mistress, she’s a…” “SMACK—” I hit the floor again. The punch knocked the words clean out of my mouth. “Shut your filthy mouth, Sierra!” Hudson’s hand was still raised. Veins bulged in his forehead; his eyes were bloodshot. “Are you crazy? This is my product launch! What is wrong with you? I told you, Zoey is an employee! You’re having a psychotic episode! Spreading vicious, disgusting lies about an innocent woman? You’re evil! You’re sick!” He grabbed my arm, forcing me down, pressing my knees onto the shards of a broken glass display. The glass dug in, searing pain shooting up my legs. Zoey whimpered behind his shoulder, but when she looked at me, her eyes were pure, smug triumph. I realized I’d been set up. This wasn’t an engagement party. This was a public launch that looked like an engagement party, designed to humiliate me and prove her victim status. Security—called by an attendee—finally wrestled me away. My hands were cuffed behind my back, my face was throbbing and bleeding, and I was pinned to the floor like a beaten dog. Hudson glanced at me, his face devoid of emotion. “Officers, she is my wife, but she deliberately assaulted this woman. I will not cover for her. Please charge her to the fullest extent of the law. She needs a harsh lesson.” “Also,” he added, his voice chillingly calm, “she has a history of severe depression and is currently unstable. After her detainment, please transfer her directly to a psychiatric facility. I will coordinate the intake.” The police hauled me up and escorted me to the cruiser. The crowd was silent, all eyes on me. I didn’t resist. I stared at Hudson. I watched him gently wipe the tears from Zoey’s face. I watched him tenderly touch her abdomen. A terrible, desolate smile spread across my face. My laughter turned into a wail, sharp with blood and tears. “Hudson! I hate you!” My vision swam. A sudden warmth spread below me, staining the pristine white marble a shocking red. “Sia!!” I heard Hudson’s desperate scream as the world went black.

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It was the dead of night when a heavy, frantic pounding echoed from the front door. Thud. Thud. Thud. “Sarah! Open up! My dad’s having an episode! You guys have to drive us to the ER, now!” My husband, David, rubbed his sleepy eyes and instinctively moved to get out of bed. I shot up and grabbed his arm, my grip like iron. “Shh. Don’t make a sound.” In my past life, David and I had opened that door out of kindness. We drove that old man to the hospital. And because of that single act of kindness, we lost everything. Our home. Our lives. 1. David blinked, confused, his voice raspy with sleep. “Honey, what’s wrong?” “Rick’s dad is sick. They don’t have a car. We should help.” I let out a cold, silent laugh. “If it’s a real emergency, David, why aren’t they calling 911?” “Don’t turn on the lights. Don’t speak. Pretend we aren’t home.” David didn’t understand, but he trusted me. He scratched his head and settled back into the pillows. “But Sarah… if the old man doesn’t make it because we didn’t help… won’t you feel guilty?” I shook my head, hiding the pure hatred burning in my eyes. Guilty? Never again. The pounding continued for a long time. It was relentless. Then, our phones started lighting up in the dark. Call after call. Luckily, I had silenced them beforehand. David finally sensed something was off. “That’s weird,” he whispered. “Usually, if no one answers, you stop knocking. Why are they hammering on the door like that?” “His dad is supposedly dying, yet instead of calling an ambulance, they’re wasting time knocking on our door?” Exactly. It had been ten minutes. I crept to the door on my tiptoes and pressed my ear against the cold wood. “Damn it, they aren’t home. Now what?” A rough voice hissed from the hallway. I heard someone spit on the floor. “Did you find anyone else?” “No.” A deep sigh from the other side. “Just our luck. Useless neighbors. Call 911, hurry.” “We can’t let the old man expire yet. Not now.” Their footsteps faded down the hall. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding and looked back at David. His eyes were wide with shock. “They… they were trying to set us up?” I nodded, my face grim. “You guessed it.” Before we fell asleep, David kept muttering. “How could they be like that? We’ve been neighbors for years.” “We used to share BBQ in the backyard. Why would they want to hurt us?” I gently covered his mouth with my hand. “Stop thinking about it. Just sleep.” 2. In the previous timeline, David and I opened the door immediately. We helped them carry the gasping old man into our backseat. Rick and his wife, Karen, sat in the back, screaming at us to drive faster. David ran two red lights. Then, at the third intersection… crash. We sideswiped another car. It was minor. Just a fender bender. No one was hurt. But that little bump was the beginning of the end. By the time we got to the hospital, the old man was gone. Rick and Karen’s faces changed instantly. They screamed in the hospital lobby, calling us criminals. They claimed our reckless driving caused the “accident” that took the old man out. They said his head hit the seat frame during the collision. And sure enough, there was a wound on the back of his head. Before we could defend ourselves, the driver of the other car jumped in. “I saw it! They sped up when they saw me! They hit me on purpose!” “You knew you had a sick passenger and you still drove like maniacs? You monsters!” There were no traffic cameras on that specific stretch of road. The man passed away in our car. We had to take the fall. We paid the settlement they demanded. We emptied our savings. But it wasn’t enough. They stood outside our office building with banners and the old man’s medical records. They claimed he was recovering. That he would have lived if not for us. They said the old man was the pillar of their family. Now their kids were too traumatized to go to school. They painted us as heartless villains. They forced us to pay for their living expenses. Their kids’ tuition. Everything. They were a black hole. When we ran out of money, they didn’t stop. One night, they spiked our drinks, stole our IDs, and took out massive loans in our names. We were drowning in debt. I will never forget the day the loan sharks came. Rick stood there, eating sunflower seeds, cheering them on. “These two are garbage!” he shouted. “Get ’em! They deserve it!” “Do society a favor!” “Hey, take it easy on the woman, though. She’s got a nice figure. You guys could have some fun with her.” “Just let me watch.” David and I didn’t make it. We were beaten until everything went black. Even after we were gone, they didn’t stop. They livestreamed lies about us, inciting strangers to desecrate our graves. But fate gave me a second chance. I woke up on the day the nightmare began. 3. The next morning, we left for work. We ran into Rick and Karen at the complex gate. Rick glared at us, his eyes full of venom. “You two sleep like the dead? We knocked for twenty minutes last night.” David smiled politely. “Sorry, Rick. Work dinner. We got in late and crashed hard. What’s up?” Karen snorted. “My dad had an episode. Needed the ER.” “You know, Sarah, because of you guys not answering, my dad almost didn’t make it.” David started to apologize, but I stepped in front of him. I looked Karen up and down with a smirk. “Karen, I’m confused. How is your dad’s health our responsibility?” Karen put her hands on her hips, her voice rising. “How? You delayed his treatment! We’re neighbors! You didn’t answer your phone! Who else should I blame?” I chuckled. “I didn’t realize being a neighbor meant I signed a 24/7 on-call paramedic contract.” “You had time to blow up my phone, but no time to dial 911?” “You!” Karen wasn’t used to me fighting back. I was usually the nice one. She pointed a finger in my face. “It’s your fault! You won’t even apologize? The audacity!” “So much for being good neighbors!” “Lucky for you my dad is still breathing, or I’d ruin you!” Rick spat on the ground near my shoes. “Fine. You want to play hardball? Don’t expect any favors from us.” I took a dramatic step back, feigning fear. “Rick, are you threatening me?” “I get scared easily. If I have a panic attack and faint right now, can you afford the lawsuit?” Rick stared at me, his face blank. He muttered one phrase. “Watch your back.” 4. Rick’s dad didn’t pass away. Remembering my past life, a terrifying theory formed in my mind. I told David. He agreed. A few days later, the dad was discharged. Karen called me immediately. Her voice was syrupy sweet, the aggression gone. “Hey Sarah! What are you up to? Got a minute?” I stayed silent. She giggled nervously. “So, Dad’s getting out of the hospital. Could you swing by and pick us up?” “You know we don’t have a car, and he can’t walk that far.” “Neighbors help neighbors, right? I’ll bake you guys some cookies.” I laughed softly into the receiver. “I don’t think I dare eat your cookies, Karen. Weren’t you going to ‘ruin me’ a few days ago?” “I’m busy. No.” I hung up before she could respond. I smiled, imagining her stomping her feet. Moments later, a notification popped up in the Community HOA Group Chat. [Karen]: Is anyone free to help bring my sick father home? Sarah won’t help us. It’s so hard being a woman taking care of an elderly parent alone… I laughed out loud. She has time to text the group, but refuses to call an Uber. She just wants to save the fifty bucks. A neighbor replied quickly. [Brenda – Apt 302]: Oh my god, that’s terrible, Karen. [Brenda – Apt 302]: Taking care of the elderly is so hard. I thought Sarah and David were nice? I can’t believe she won’t help. Brenda. The neighborhood gossip. She always disliked me for some reason. She tagged me in the chat. [Brenda – Apt 302]: @Sarah Be a decent human being. Karen always gives you veggies from her garden. [Brenda – Apt 302]: Why are you so selfish? [Brenda – Apt 302]: Everyone knows you guys have money. You have a nice car. Why not just pick them up? Other neighbors started chiming in. [Neighbor A]: To be fair, maybe Sarah is busy? [Neighbor B]: Yeah, just grab a cab. It’s easier. But Brenda rallied her troops. [Brenda – Apt 302]: A cab? For a man in a wheelchair? A private car is much more comfortable. [Brenda – Apt 302]: Where is the compassion in this building? The chat turned into a war zone. People forgot that Karen asked for help and started arguing about morals. Karen panicked. [Karen]: Please stop fighting! It’s my fault for asking. [Karen]: Is there anyone who can help? The chat went silent.

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On my birthday, my parents gave the princess dress meant for me to my adopted sister. When I cried and threw a tantrum, begging for another, my parents got into a car crash. My brother, Liam, broke down and slapped me across the face. “You’re a curse! Your selfishness killed them!” He immediately shipped me off to a disciplinary boot camp to “fix my attitude.” Eight years later, on New Year’s Eve, I was working as a clown at an amusement park to make ends meet. And there I saw him. My brother. And with him, my parents, who were supposed to have been dead for a decade. Liam gestured magnanimously to the park manager. “Two hundred grand. I want it all spent on fireworks for my sister’s eighteenth birthday.” Scarlett snuggled into their arms, beaming. Suddenly, my mother’s brow furrowed. “I wonder how Mia is doing. Her birthday is coming up soon…” Liam scoffed. “She gets what she deserves! Crying over a single dress, trying to take it from Scarlett.” “We can just tell her the truth in ten days.” The fireworks exploded, a shower of light so bright it brought tears to my eyes. So, my parents weren’t dead after all. And the blood money I’d slaved to earn, my penance, was being turned to smoke and ash to delight Scarlett. But it was too late for me. I was already dying. There was no going back. … The boom of the fireworks still echoed in my ears. But the image seared into my mind was the adoring smile on my parents’ faces as they hugged Scarlett. “Mia! You’re on!” Someone jabbed me sharply in the arm. “Snap out of it! The young Mr. Sterling booked the whole park for his sister’s birthday. We can’t screw this up!” I was shoved onto the stage. My old leg injury gave out without warning, and the juggling balls in my hands scattered across the floor. The manager stormed over, his face purple with rage. “Mia! What the hell are you doing?” His shout drew the attention of the family below the stage. I ducked my head in panic, instinctively raising a hand to hide my face, but a powerful grip clamped down on my wrist. It was Liam. He had rushed the stage, his eyes bloodshot. “Mia?” “You got out? Why didn’t you come home?” Then he froze. “What happened to your face? Those burns…” My fingertips were numb with pain, but my gaze shot past him to the crowd. I saw my parents. The moment they heard my name, they spun around, melting into the throng of people, desperate to disappear. They couldn’t even bear to look at me. A dull blade twisted in my heart, and for a half-second, I forgot how to breathe. “Sister? Is that you?” Scarlett appeared at Liam’s side, her eyes instantly welling with tears. “After all these years… you still don’t like me, do you? Is that why you came to ruin my special birthday performance?” At her words, Liam’s expression turned to ice. He let go of my wrist, flinging my hand away as if it were something filthy. “Some things never change, do they?” “Do you really have to compete with Scarlett for everything? You even had to come and ruin her birthday?” I wanted to explain. That my leg had been broken at the boot camp. That’s why I couldn’t stand properly. But before I could form the words, Liam let out a bitter laugh. “You’re a clown, right? Then perform. Clean up the mess you made.” He turned to the manager. “She performs alone. Until my sister is satisfied.” The manager wiped sweat from his brow. “Mia, your little puppy act is always a crowd-pleaser. Get down on all fours, now!” “If you don’t perform today, you’re not getting a single penny!” A day’s wage. Fifty bucks. That was half a month’s worth of food. It was enough to buy a box of painkillers. Without hesitation, I slowly lowered myself to the stage. The crowd erupted in jeers and whistles. “Crawl, you little clown dog! Crawl!” “Let’s hear you bark!” I dragged myself forward one step. My left leg was useless, making my posture twisted and pathetic. A memory pierced through the haze of pain. A night just like this, before Scarlett came into our lives. Liam was on his hands and knees on the living room floor, grinning back at me. “Come on, Mia, giddy-up! Big brother will give you a ride!” I had giggled and climbed onto his back. “Hold on tight! The princess is ready for takeoff!” Mom and Dad watched from the sofa, their eyes full of love as they watched us play. But now, in my peripheral vision, I saw them again. They were huddled in the crowd. Mom frowned and turned her face away. Dad put a protective arm in front of her, and they both shrank back, terrified I might spot them. Seeing me humiliated didn’t break their hearts. It just embarrassed them. A sharp, drilling pain shot up my leg, and I shuddered. “Wait!” A voice cut through the noise. “You can’t humiliate a girl like this, no matter what. And I think there’s something wrong with her leg…” Liam frowned, his gaze falling to my trembling leg. But Scarlett stepped in front of him. “Oh, my sister has always been good at playing the victim, getting everyone to feel sorry for her…” Of course, he believed her. He glared at the man who had spoken up. “Humiliate her? Do you have any idea what kind of person she is?” “She’s a spoiled, selfish brat who killed her own parents! When Scarlett lost her parents and came to live with us, she tormented her relentlessly, without a shred of compassion.” His words were daggers in my heart. The truth was, I had never tormented her. It was Scarlett who would snatch the hairclips Mom gave me, only to break them. She would demand the music box Liam bought for me, then smash it to pieces. When I cried and begged her to apologize, they all said I was overreacting. I cried. I screamed. I tried to explain. But no one ever believed me. The louder I got, the more frantic my tears, the more they saw a spoiled child throwing a meaningless tantrum. Mom would just shake her head in disappointment. “Mia, why are you becoming so difficult?” Liam would snap, “Can’t you just give your sister a break? Her life is so much harder than yours! She doesn’t have parents!” Then came my eighth birthday. The princess dress they had promised me was on Scarlett. I finally broke. I sobbed and demanded they buy me a new one. And for that, for my one and only act of defiance, my punishment was ten years of believing my parents were dead. The crowd went silent for a moment, then exploded. “So that’s the story! She killed her parents and she’s still walking around?” “People like that should spend their whole lives atoning!” Every word was a white-hot poker twisting in my gut. Suddenly, I heard a familiar voice. “No, that’s not true! Mia is a good person!” “Don’t you bully Mia!” It was Noah, barreling through the crowd and shoving Liam aside. He threw his arms out, shielding me. Liam stumbled back, his eyes landing on Noah’s, which had the distinct, unfocused look of someone with a developmental disability. “Mia,” he said, his voice like frost, laced with disgust. “You’re hanging out with idiots like this now?” Noah turned to me, his big hands clumsily wiping the tears from my cheeks. “Don’t cry, Mia.” He was so gentle. My vision blurred. It was just like ten years ago. After Liam signed the papers and walked away, they threw me through an iron gate. The people inside descended on me, kicking and punching. I curled into a ball in the corner, head in my arms, crying for my brother over and over. They just laughed. “Your brother doesn’t want you anymore!” Then came a sickening crack as my left leg broke. Later, someone started a fire in the storage closet while I was locked inside. The flames licked at my skin, searing it. It was Noah who dragged me out. From that day on, he was the one who protected me, not Liam. I remember my hands shaking as I dialed Liam’s number again and again. “Liam, help me.” “They’re going to burn me alive…” His voice on the other end was cold, detached. “You’re at a boot camp. You should learn to behave. I’m out shopping with Scarlett, don’t call again.” Terrified of making him hate me even more, I never bothered him again. When I finally got out, with a crippled leg and a ruined face, the only job I could get was playing a clown. Half of the money I earned, I wired to Liam as penance for my sins. The other half I saved for Noah. Then, three months ago, I started coughing up blood. A deep, aching pain settled into my bones. It was bone cancer. Terminal. Back then, my only thought was, My atonement… it isn’t finished yet. But now, it seemed it didn’t matter anymore. … “Mia, I’m talking to you!” Liam’s voice snapped me back to reality. Scarlett covered her mouth with a delicate hand. “Sister, you’re… you’re still in contact with people from the boot camp? Isn’t that dangerous?” Liam took a deep breath and turned to the onlookers. His voice was glacial. “From this day forward, anyone who hires Mia Sterling will be making an enemy of my family.” He looked back at me. “You can stay out here and keep suffering to atone for what you did to Mom and Dad!” With that, he wrapped an arm around Scarlett’s shoulders and walked away. His back was so familiar, yet so alien. That same back used to bend down so I could climb on, carrying me home step by step when I was tired from playing. After Scarlett arrived, he never carried me again. Then I saw them. My parents, who had been hiding in the shadows, rushed forward to embrace Scarlett. Through the crowd, I watched my mother gently stroke her hair while my father handed her a beautifully wrapped gift box. The four of them, a perfect family, walked toward the brilliant fireworks display. Not one of them looked back.

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