Category: English

1 Five years into their arranged marriage, Olivia and Dodge remained strangers. Their lovemaking was a ritual of politeness. Dodge would kiss her collarbone and murmur, “I’m starting now.” He’d undress her slowly, asking, “Is this okay?” As he entered her, his voice grew hoarse: “Tell me to stop if it hurts.” The bed rocked violently for hours. Olivia gasped, fingers clutching sheets, before whispering, “I’m sorry… it’s been three hours. I can’t take more.” Dodge froze. “My apologies,” he rasped, pulling away with a ragged breath. He pressed a desperate kiss to her forehead before fleeing to the shower. Olivia dressed trembling fingers, covering his marks. She turned on the lamp and pulled out a divorce agreement. Five years. It was time to end this. Everyone in their circle knew the story: the grand merger of the Thorne and Croft empires, sealed by the marriage of their children. Olivia Thorne and Dodge Croft, a model couple, respectful and admired by all. What no one knew was that their hearts belonged to others. Dodge’s heart belonged to his adopted sister, a love forbidden by societal norms. Olivia’s heart belonged to a man who had died five years ago, a love she could never have again. One lost to circumstance, the other to death. On their wedding day, they had confessed everything, agreeing to a five-year contract marriage. It was a shield against family pressure, a business necessity. They would fulfill their duties, nothing more. After five years, they would go their separate ways. Now, five years had passed. It was time. She was waiting for Dodge to emerge from the bathroom to discuss it, but the door suddenly swung open. He strode out, his hair still dripping, and grabbed his car keys. Olivia blinked. “Where are you going so late?” she asked instinctively. Dodge paused, his usually cool voice laced with an uncharacteristic urgency. “Rosie had a nightmare. I have to go be with her. You should get some rest.” Rosie. His adopted sister. His true love. Olivia understood. She never questioned his late-night departures to Rosie’s side, not when Rosie had a car accident, or a fever, or even just cramps. She had adhered strictly to their contract, keeping to her side of the house, never intruding on his time with the woman he loved. But tonight was different. Thinking of the conversation that lay ahead, she had to stop him. “Can you spare five minutes? I have something important to discuss.” Dodge seemed taken aback. “Is it very important?” Olivia paused for a moment before answering softly, “I suppose it is.” He was about to speak when his phone rang. He glanced down. It was Rosie. The moment he answered, her tearful voice came through the line. “Brother, I’m so scared. Are you here yet? I want you to hold me while I sleep…” Dodge’s expression softened instantly. “I’m almost there,” he said, his voice gentle. He hung up and turned back to Olivia, his tone once again polite. “Whatever it is, you can decide. We don’t need to discuss it.” Olivia was momentarily stunned, but then she nodded. She flipped the divorce agreement to the last page and held it out to him. “Then sign this.” Dodge nodded, signed his name without a second glance, and hurried out. As the sound of his car’s engine faded into the distance, Olivia picked up her phone and dialed her lawyer. “The divorce agreement is signed. How long until it’s finalized?” The lawyer’s voice was crisp. “Ms. Thorne, you just need to get through the one-month cooling-off period.” A wave of relief washed over Olivia. After hanging up, she booked a flight to Southshore. There was a reason for Southshore. A few weeks ago, her best friend had spotted a college student in a bar there who bore an uncanny resemblance to Leo. The boy seemed poor, working part-time to make ends meet. Olivia couldn’t bear the thought of someone with Leo’s face suffering like that. Since he needed money and she had plenty, she decided to make him an offer. She sent her friend to negotiate. After a few days of silence, he agreed. The only condition was that he couldn’t leave Southshore; his grandmother was there. Olivia considered it. Her own parents were gone; she had no real family left in this city. So be it. She would move to Southshore. To be able to see that face, so like Leo’s, every day for the rest of her life… surely, that would bring her some measure of happiness. 2 That night, Olivia had a pleasant dream. She woke with a smile still lingering on her lips. The thought of being free from the charade of their respectful marriage, of seeing Leo’s face every day, made her feel light and hopeful. She found herself wishing time would fly, that the cooling-off period would be over in a flash. When she went downstairs, the maid had already prepared breakfast. She had just finished eating and was about to go back upstairs to pack when she heard a commotion at the door. She looked up to see Dodge walking in, followed by Rosie and several bodyguards carrying luggage. Dodge was dressed in a impeccably tailored black suit that accentuated his broad shoulders and long legs, giving him an air of cool, aristocratic grace. Rosie, in a white dress, her long hair flowing over her shoulders, clung to his arm with a sweet smile. They looked like a perfect couple, made for each other. Dodge stepped aside to let the bodyguards bring in the luggage, then explained to Olivia, “Rosie’s been having nightmares lately. She only feels safe when I’m around, so I’ve brought her to stay for a while.” He then pulled a small, exquisite box from his pocket and offered it to her. “I had my people bid on this necklace at an auction. Consider it… compensation.” Olivia glanced at the box but didn’t take it. She gently pushed it back. “That’s not necessary. I don’t need compensation. There are plenty of rooms in this house.” Dodge was clearly surprised. “You’re not angry?” Olivia was even more surprised. “Angry about what? In a month, she’ll be moving in for good anyway.” Dodge froze, not understanding her meaning. What did she mean, in a month she’d be moving in for good? Before he could ask, Rosie chimed in, a triumphant, provocative smile on her lips. “Well, thank you then, Ms. Thorne.” She never called Olivia “sister-in-law,” because she never acknowledged her position. Five years ago, when Olivia had first married into the Croft family, Rosie had stormed into their bridal suite with a group of bodyguards and smashed everything to pieces. Her eyes had been red then, like a cornered animal, screaming, “How dare you take my brother from me!” Somehow, Dodge had managed to calm her down, and she hadn’t caused a scene since. Perhaps because, married or not, Dodge’s adoration for Rosie had never wavered. He still took her shopping, soothed her to sleep, and even stayed by her bedside all night when she was sick. He treated his wife, Olivia, as if she were invisible. “Brother, didn’t you say you’d take me to the amusement park after we moved in?” Rosie cooed, shaking Dodge’s arm, her voice dripping with honey. Dodge looked down at her, his eyes so tender they could have melted stone. “Of course. We’ll go in a bit.” He looked up at Olivia, as if about to say something more. But Olivia simply smiled her gentle smile. “You two go on. Just let me know if you’ll be back for dinner, and I’ll have the maids prepare something.” Rosie’s lips curved into a smug smile. “Well, thank you then, Ms. Thorne.” Olivia heard the challenge and triumph in her voice but didn’t react. She just gave a polite nod and went back to her room. She spent the entire day packing. By the time she was finished, it was dark. Dodge and Rosie still weren’t back. Olivia took a shower, changed into her pajamas, and got into bed. Just as she was drifting off to sleep, she heard voices outside her door. “Brother, just sleep with me. I’m scared all alone,” Rosie’s voice, pleading and coquettish. “Rosie, my wife is here. It wouldn’t be right,” Dodge’s voice, still gentle, but tinged with weariness. “What’s not right about it? You love me, and I love you. Olivia Thorne is just a placeholder.” Olivia’s fingers curled slightly, but she didn’t move, her eyes still closed, pretending to be asleep. Outside the door, Dodge was silent for a moment before he said in a low voice, “Rosie, I can be as good to you as I’ve always been. My heart is all yours. But anything else… I can’t. I’m still married. If we were to… it would be bad for your reputation. You just need to know that I’ll always love you.” “Then you’re not allowed to touch her tonight,” Rosie said, her tone demanding. Dodge seemed to say something else, but his voice was too low for Olivia to hear. A moment later, the door opened quietly. Dodge came in. His eyes fell on the suitcases by the bed, a look of surprise on his face. “What’s all this?” Olivia was about to tell him the truth, but then she remembered his words: “Whatever it is, you can decide.” He didn’t even know they were getting divorced. Did she really need to tell him she was moving to Southshore? So she lied. “Just clearing out some things for the new season.” Dodge nodded, asked no more questions, and went into the bathroom. When he came out, he was wearing only a towel, water droplets tracing a path down his chest to his chiseled abs. He walked to the bed and leaned down to kiss her. Olivia, startled, instinctively pushed him away. “Didn’t your sister tell you not to touch me?” Dodge froze. “You heard?” Olivia nodded. Dodge was silent for a moment, then changed the subject. “I want you. Is that okay?” 3 Olivia wanted to refuse, but she remembered their pre-nuptial agreement to fulfill their marital duties. Since the divorce wasn’t final, she relented with a resigned nod. “Fine.” Dodge leaned in, his kiss more forceful than usual. A soft moan escaped Olivia’s lips, her fingers clutching the sheets. For the first time in a long time, Dodge smiled, his voice a low, raspy whisper. “Can’t hold back? I’ll be gentler.” Olivia closed her eyes. “Thank you,” she murmured. “You’re welcome,” he replied, a hint of a smile in his voice, before deepening the kiss. When Olivia awoke, the room was empty. She got up, dressed, and went downstairs to find Dodge gone. Only Rosie was at the dining table, her head bowed over her breakfast. Olivia approached the table and asked politely, “Did you sleep well? Is the breakfast to your liking?” Rosie didn’t answer, didn’t even look up, as if Olivia were invisible. Olivia sighed inwardly. Compared to Dodge, Rosie was utterly ill-mannered. She said no more, silently taking a seat and starting on her own breakfast. But as she took a bite of toast, a wave of nausea washed over her. She shot up from her chair and rushed to the bathroom, dry-heaving over the sink. When she came out, she found Rosie standing at the door, her face a thunderous mask. Her eyes, sharp as daggers, pierced through Olivia. “Are you pregnant?” she hissed. Olivia was stunned. Before she could explain, Rosie snapped. Her voice was shrill with rage. “I tolerated you marrying him, I even tolerated you sleeping with him, but I will not tolerate you having my brother’s child!” She spun around and shouted to the bodyguards at the door, “Hold her down!” Then, to a maid, “Go get the abortion pills!” The maid and bodyguards froze, exchanging terrified glances. No one moved. Rosie’s eyes were bloodshot. “Didn’t my brother tell you to take good care of me before he left? Now you won’t even listen to a word I say? Is this how you take care of me?” The staff, intimidated, finally moved to restrain Olivia. Olivia, finally snapping out of her shock, began to struggle. “You’ve misunderstood! I’m not pregnant, I just have an upset stomach…” But Rosie was beyond reason. Seeing the maid hadn’t returned, she stormed into a room, rummaged through a medicine cabinet, and emerged with a bottle of pills. She marched back to Olivia. “Still trying to deny it? I won’t let you have this baby! I absolutely won’t!” Her voice was wild. She grabbed Olivia’s chin, forcing her mouth open, and shoved the pills down her throat. Olivia shook her head violently, but the pills slid down her throat. A searing pain ripped through her stomach. A cold sweat broke out on her forehead, and her vision swam. She tried to scream, but no sound came out. She collapsed to the floor, her consciousness fading. When she woke up again, she was in a hospital bed. Through a hazy fog, she heard a doctor’s exasperated voice. “Mr. Croft, your wife wasn’t even pregnant. How could you let someone force-feed her abortion pills? It’s a good thing she was brought in for a stomach pump immediately, otherwise she would have lost half her stomach.” 4 Olivia slowly opened her eyes. The doctor was gone. Dodge was sitting by her bed, his brow furrowed, a guilty look in his eyes. Seeing she was awake, he helped her sit up. “I know what happened. I’m so sorry. I never thought Rosie would do something like this.” Olivia’s stomach was still aching, and she barely had the strength to speak. She sighed softly. “Let the police handle it. She’s not a child anymore. She can’t keep acting this way. A few days in jail might do her some good.” She reached for her phone to call the police, but Dodge snatched it from her. “No. Rosie didn’t mean it. Olivia, please, just let this go.” Olivia stared at him. “So, I went through that for nothing?” Dodge was silent for a long moment before he finally said, “I’m sorry. I’ll compensate you. But Rosie… don’t cause trouble for her.” Olivia looked at him and sighed again. “Don’t you think you spoil her too much?” Dodge shook his head. “If the man you loved were still alive, you wouldn’t want him to suffer even the slightest harm, would you?” Olivia was taken aback. After a long pause, she said softly, “I understand. It won’t happen again.” Even though she had decided to let Rosie off the hook, Dodge felt a strange sense of unease. He stared at her face, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. “It’s been so long, and you’re still thinking about him? He’s been dead for years.” Olivia didn’t understand why he was suddenly so agitated. He had always known she loved Leo. She had never interfered with his love for Rosie. Why did he seem so angry about her feelings for Leo now? Before she could answer, Dodge’s phone rang. It was Rosie. After taking the call, he seemed to compose himself, the strange anger from before suppressed. He stood up, once again the polite, distant husband. “Rosie is acting up again. I have to go. I’ll come back to see you when I have time.” As he turned to leave, Olivia couldn’t help but call out to him. “You should tell your sister. She seems very concerned about whether I’ll get pregnant. But I can’t. On the first day we were together, I had my tubes tied.” Dodge stopped dead in his tracks. He spun around, his face a mask of disbelief. “What did you say?!” Olivia was even more surprised by his reaction. In their five years of marriage, he had always been so composed, his face a carefully controlled mask. But today, he had been so uncharacteristically emotional. “I would never have a child with anyone but Leo,” she said. “Surely, you can understand that.” Dodge’s face darkened, as if he were fighting back some powerful emotion. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand. You will go and have that procedure reversed. Immediately.” Sensing her reluctance, he added, “It’s a marital duty.” Olivia shook her head. “But we’re in the process of getting a divorce. I no longer have any marital duties to fulfill.” 5 Olivia finally told Dodge the truth, but he didn’t hear it. Just as she was speaking, Rosie called again, demanding his attention. He murmured something soothing into the phone and hurried away. Olivia sighed, but there was no real turmoil in her heart. She was used to this. In Dodge’s world, Rosie was always the top priority. For the next few days, Dodge sent a maid with meals and hired a nurse to care for her. He didn’t appear in person, but his arrangements were thoughtful. The only downside was the constant buzzing of her phone. It was Rosie, sending a barrage of provocative photos: Dodge taking her shopping, buying her jewelry, dining at fancy restaurants. Each photo was accompanied by a caption bragging about his affection. Olivia looked at the photos without a trace of jealousy. She simply forwarded each one to Dodge with a note: “From your sister.” After a long silence, Dodge replied politely: “I’m sorry. I’ll handle it.” Olivia responded: “Okay. Thank you.” She thought their conversation was over, but then another message came through: “Did you have the tubal ligation reversed? Please do it as soon as possible.” Olivia stared at the message, baffled by his sudden obsession with the matter. They were getting divorced. She wasn’t going to have his child. Why was he so insistent? She put her phone down and didn’t reply. On the day of her discharge, Dodge came to pick her up himself. When Olivia opened the car door, she saw Rosie sitting in the passenger seat. Rosie turned, her voice dripping with mock sweetness. “Brother and I are going to an auction later. I get carsick, so I’m afraid you’ll have to take the back seat, Ms. Thorne.” Olivia said nothing, silently getting into the back. As soon as she was in, she heard Dodge’s low voice, directed at Rosie, “Did you forget what I told you before?” Rosie pouted and reluctantly turned to Olivia. “I’m sorry, Ms. Thorne. I was too impulsive before. I’m sorry I put you in the hospital.” Olivia was surprised by the apology. Then she saw Rosie’s swollen lips and Dodge’s weary expression and understood. Dodge, who had always refused to cross that line with Rosie, had kissed her to appease her and make her apologize. Olivia kept this observation to herself, simply nodding. Dodge glanced at her in the rearview mirror. “Did you have that procedure reversed?” Olivia didn’t know why he kept asking, but she answered calmly, “Yes.” It was true that she hadn’t wanted children before. But now, things were different. She thought of the young student who looked so much like Leo. A lifetime was a long time. Perhaps having a child who looked like Leo wouldn’t be so bad. Dodge misinterpreted her reason. He nodded, a hint of a smile in his eyes, as if he were pleased. He continued, “I’m taking Rosie to an auction later. Olivia, you should come with us.” Olivia was about to refuse, but then she thought about how long it had been since she’d been out, and she agreed. At the auction, Dodge bought almost everything Rosie pointed at—jewelry, paintings, antiques, each one worth a fortune. People around them whispered, “Mr. Croft is so good to his adopted sister. Better than he is to his own wife.” Hearing this, Dodge turned to Olivia and asked gently, “Is there anything you want? I’ll buy it for you.” Olivia was about to shake her head when she saw the watch being presented on stage. It was a classic men’s watch, simple and elegant. She thought it would look wonderful on Leo. But he could never wear it. But… she could buy it for the student who looked so much like him. She raised her paddle. “Three million.” In that moment, Dodge’s expression shifted. He had been buying things for Rosie all night, and nothing for Olivia. And yet, the one thing she wanted was a watch for him? A complex emotion washed over him, and his gaze on her softened. 6 Seeing the look in Dodge’s eyes, Rosie’s face fell. “Five million!” she declared, raising her own paddle. “Six million!” “Seven million!” The price soared as they went back and forth. Finally, Olivia placed a winning bid that stunned the entire room into silence. Everyone assumed she had bought the watch for Dodge, and they sighed in admiration. “Ms. Thorne is truly devoted to Mr. Croft!” When the watch was brought to her, Dodge draped his jacket over her shoulders and whispered, “Thank you. Why don’t you put it on me?” Olivia froze, about to explain that the watch wasn’t for him, but his phone rang. A work emergency. He had to leave immediately, telling the driver to take Olivia and Rosie home. Since she had what she came for, Olivia saw no reason to stay. She turned to leave. As she was getting into the car, she looked back for Rosie, but saw her giving a subtle signal to a bodyguard. A sense of unease washed over her. The next moment, a sharp blow landed on the back of her neck. Darkness. When she woke up, she was in a walk-in freezer. The air was frigid, her hands and feet numb with cold. Rosie stood outside, watching her through the glass door. “Olivia, don’t think a silly little watch will win my brother’s heart. He will only ever love me.” Olivia didn’t know how to explain. She was shivering, her voice weak. “You’ve misunderstood. The watch wasn’t for your brother.” Rosie scoffed. “If not for him, then who? You can stay in here and think about it. This is your punishment for desiring my brother.” With that, she smashed the watch on the floor and walked away. “Rosie! Rosie!” Even with her placid temperament, Olivia was furious. Why did Rosie keep targeting her? Dodge must have told her their marriage was just a business arrangement. She had heard him profess his love for Rosie time and time again. If she had known how unstable Rosie was, she never would have agreed to this marriage. The freezer door was sealed shut. Her phone had no signal, its screen coated in a thin layer of ice. The cold was like a thousand tiny needles, piercing her skin, her bones. Just as she felt herself losing consciousness, she heard a loud bang. The freezer door had been kicked open. Dodge was running towards her. When she woke up again, she was in her own bed. Dodge sat beside her, his eyes full of guilt and exhaustion. “I’m sorry. I never thought Rosie would do something like this again.” Olivia, pale and weak, asked softly, “And this time, I can’t hold her accountable either, can I?” Dodge hesitated. “I’ve already punished her.” “What was the punishment?” He hesitated again, his voice strained. “I… made her skip a meal.” Olivia stared at him, stunned. A long moment passed before she said, “I see.” Dodge watched her, his voice probing. “You’re not angry?” “I am,” she said, her voice tired but calm. “But then I think, if Leo made a mistake, I wouldn’t have the heart to punish him either. I suppose that’s what love is. You love your sister too much, just as I love Leo too much.” Dodge’s expression changed. He shot to his feet, a storm of emotions in his eyes—anger, and something else, something like loss. Olivia watched him, confused by his strong reaction. She waited for him to speak, but he just stood there, his lips moving, finally managing to force out the words, “Can we not mention him anymore?” 7 Olivia was stunned. “Why?” Dodge’s voice was low, strained. “Because I don’t like it.” She didn’t understand, but she didn’t ask. She just lowered her head and sighed. “Alright. For the next seven days, I won’t mention him.” Dodge frowned. “Why seven days?” “Because in seven days, our marriage will be over.” But her words were drowned out by Rosie, who burst into the room, pouting. “Brother, you’ve coddled her enough. What about me? You punished me for another woman. I’m still hungry.” For once, Dodge sounded angry. “Stop it, Rosie.” Rosie’s eyes welled with tears. “You don’t love me anymore, do you? Fine, I’m leaving!” She ran out, her eyes red. Dodge watched her go, his brow furrowed in frustration. He turned to Olivia. “I’ll go check on her.” Olivia nodded. As she watched them leave, she heard a loud thud from outside. Her heart sank. She got out of bed and rushed out to see Rosie lying on the road, covered in blood. A car was stopped nearby, the driver getting out in a panic. Dodge was kneeling beside Rosie, his face a ghostly white. “Rosie, don’t scare me…” he stammered, then scooped her up and sped towards the hospital. Olivia stood frozen for a moment, then hailed a taxi and followed. Rosie was rushed into surgery. A short while later, a doctor came out, his expression grim. “She’s lost a lot of blood. We need to give her a transfusion, but the blood bank is low. What are we going to do?” Dodge immediately rolled up his sleeve. “Take mine. We have the same blood type.” A nurse led him away. They drew the maximum safe amount, 400cc, but it wasn’t enough. As the nurse was about to stop, Dodge grabbed her hand. “Keep going,” he rasped. “We can’t…” “I said, keep going!” The nurse looked at Olivia in desperation. “Ms. Thorne, please, talk some sense into him. Any more and his own health will be at risk.” Olivia didn’t know what to say. “Dodge, do you love her more than your own life?” His face was cold, his answer immediate. “Yes.” Olivia was silent for a moment, then turned to the nurse. “I can’t convince him. Do as he says.” The nurse, frantic but seeing she had no choice, continued to draw blood. After 1000cc, Dodge was as pale as a sheet, unable to stand. But he refused to leave the surgery waiting area. “I’ll wait here,” Olivia said, afraid he might collapse. “You go rest.” He shook his head, his red-rimmed eyes fixed on the operating room doors. “No. I have to be here.” Olivia said no more, just stood by his side. When the doctor finally came out and announced that Rosie was out of danger, Dodge’s body swayed, and he fainted. 8 Olivia had thought that if she could just get through the next few days, she would be free. But now, with both Dodge and Rosie in the hospital, she found herself caring for both of them. It was exhausting, made worse by Rosie’s constant demands. One moment she was complaining about the porridge and throwing it on Olivia’s hand, the next she was craving a dessert from a bakery across town in the middle of the night. Olivia knew Rosie was doing it on purpose, but with only a few days of their marriage left, she decided to endure it. Dodge, seeing her patience, felt a pang of guilt. “You’ve worked so hard these past few days. I’ll make it up to you. What do you want?” Olivia shook her head. “Nothing, thank you.” But Dodge seemed determined. Once he had recovered a little, he hired a nurse for Rosie and took Olivia out. He took her to an amusement park, a place they had never been in their five years of marriage. He bought her ice cream, rode the Ferris wheel with her, and even took pictures of her on the carousel. They went to a movie, had a candlelit dinner—all the things a normal couple would do. She wanted to tell him she didn’t like these things, that he didn’t have to do them, but seeing him so immersed in the moment, she kept silent. When they returned to the hospital, Rosie was waiting at the door, her face dark. “Did my brother take you on a date?” she demanded. Before Olivia could explain, Rosie’s voice rose hysterically. “Don’t think this means he’s falling for you! I’ll show you, Olivia, that in his heart, I will always come first! No one can compare to me, especially not you!” Olivia was about to say that she already knew this, but Rosie suddenly pressed a cloth to her face. The world went black. When she woke up, she was dangling from a rope over a cliff. The wind howled, and waves crashed against the rocks below. Her wrists were raw from the coarse rope. Next to her, Rosie was also hanging from a rope, a triumphant smile on her face. “I hired an actor to pretend to be a kidnapper. My brother will be here soon. Who do you think he’ll save?” Olivia’s voice was weary. “You.” Rosie scoffed. “At least you know your place.” Olivia didn’t know what to say. How could Dodge love someone like Rosie? Soon, Dodge arrived, his face pale with panic. He threw a suitcase of money at the “kidnapper’s” feet, but the man sneered. “I’m not here for money. You can only save one. Choose.” “I’ll save both!” Dodge cried. “Choose now, or they both die,” the man said, brandishing a knife. Dodge’s eyes darted between Olivia and Rosie, his face a mask of turmoil. As the man was about to cut the ropes, he finally made his choice. “Save Rosie!” He looked at Olivia, his voice strained. “She just had a car accident, her body is weak, I…” Olivia smiled, her voice calm. “It’s okay. Even if she hadn’t, you would have chosen her.” Dodge’s heart clenched, as if pierced by her words. Before he could speak, the man cut Olivia’s rope. She plunged into the icy sea below. “Olivia!” She woke up in the hospital again, her wrists bandaged, her face ashen. Dodge sat beside her, looking exhausted and guilty. “I’ve investigated. It was Rosie again. I promise, this will be the last time. I’ll make it up to you, Olivia. What do you want? And don’t say nothing.” Olivia looked at him, her eyes like still water. “Go be with Rosie. She must have been scared too.” Dodge’s eyes widened in shock. “That’s the compensation you want?” She nodded. “Yes. The more you’re with her, the less she’ll bother me.” Dodge’s throat felt tight. “Okay,” he said finally. “I’ll go see her, then I’ll come back.” He tucked the blanket around her and left. Olivia watched him go and shook her head. No need. Because today, I’m leaving for good. After Dodge left, Olivia ignored the nurse’s protests, pulled out her IV, and checked out of the hospital. Her flight was at eleven; she had two hours to tie up loose ends. She rushed to the courthouse and got her divorce certificate. Then she went back to the villa and left the certificate, the divorce agreement, and her wedding ring on the coffee table where he would see them. Finally, she picked up her packed luggage, left the key, and walked out of the villa. Standing at the gate, she took one last look at the house she had lived in for five years. “Goodbye, Dodge.” The five years were finally over.

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At the Grand Jewel Gala, my competition piece was swapped with a stolen antique. I was arrested on the spot and sentenced to five years in prison. For one thousand, eight hundred days, I counted the slivers of light that pierced my cell window, enduring inhuman torment. The day I was released, my husband, Lucas, and our son came to pick me up. He gently draped his coat over my shoulders. My son, his eyes red-rimmed, threw himself into my arms. In that moment, I thought my suffering was finally over. At least I still had them. Until I received a video. My ten-year-old son was looking up at his father, his voice clear and innocent. “Dad, I helped Aunt Iris win the award by switching Mom’s design. Is she happy?” “But Mom was in prison for five years. People stare at her everywhere, and the kids at school make fun of me…” Lucas’s hand rested heavily on his son’s head. “This,” he said, his voice grave, “is something you must take to your grave. Never speak of it again.” “It’s your mother’s fault for being so selfish. Your Aunt Iris grew up with nothing. Do you know how much that award meant to her? Your mother has everything, yet she still had to compete. She deserved what she got.” My heart felt as if it had been torn in two. The living hell I had endured for five years had been orchestrated by the people I loved most. 1 “Don’t worry, Dad. I’ve been playing my part perfectly all these years. That stupid woman has no idea.” “In a couple of days, after Aunt Iris’s birthday party, we can finally be a real family.” Lucas’s voice was tinged with concern. “You still need to be careful. Don’t let your guard down around her. We need her at Iris’s party.” “Your grandfather is going to publicly announce her as the second daughter of the Sinclair family. Your mother has to be there. Otherwise, the gossip will all fall on Iris. With her there as a shield, Iris will be spared some of the backlash.” My son, however, was nonchalant. “You’re here, Dad. Who would dare to say anything?” “Michael!” “Fine, fine, I’ll do what you say! I’ll go tell her. It’s an honor for her to even be invited.” “If it weren’t for Iris, would a convict, an ex-con, even be worthy of being my mother?” I stared at the image of the tall, proud boy on the screen. His face was etched with a contempt I didn’t recognize. This was not the child who used to sleep peacefully in my arms. Every word from their mouths was alien to me. Five years ago, I was arrested on the day of the competition. For five long years, one thousand, eight hundred days, I suffered unspeakable abuse. By the time I was released, my own mother had died from depression, and my father had publicly disowned me in the papers. Everywhere I went, people pointed and whispered. Even the household staff treated me with disdain. When I stood on the roof, ready to jump, it was my husband and son who gently coaxed me down. They told me they believed I was innocent, that they would fight to clear my name. When others sneered at me, they stood in front of me, defending me. I saw them as the light that had pierced the darkness of my life. I gave them everything I had. And now, I learned that my five years of agony were nothing more than a sacrifice to pave the way for a charity case my family had sponsored. Tears flooded my vision, blurring the screen of my phone. I had thought they were my rock, my support. It was all just their pity, a handout after they had used me up and thrown me away. I scrambled to hide my phone, curling up in the study like a wounded animal. The first thing I saw was a row of dolls on Lucas’s desk. They were exquisitely crafted, each with a small beauty mark under its eye, a perfect replica of the one Iris had. Lucas was a world-renowned luxury designer. His custom dolls were priceless, sought after by collectors everywhere. After we were married, I had asked him to make one for me, but he always said he was too busy. I couldn’t get a single one, yet he had made a whole collection for Iris. It wasn’t that he didn’t have time. It was that I wasn’t worth his time. Each of Iris’s dolls had a bright, smiling face. I clutched the one in my hand so tightly I thought it would shatter. Because my husband cherished her, she became the dazzling new star of the jewelry world. And I became a pariah, a convict everyone despised. That evening, the father and son returned. Michael, my son, called out “Mom!” with his usual affection. Lucas held a box of my favorite pastries. These scenes, which once warmed my heart, now sent a chill through my entire body. The next day, after they had left, I went out as well. I took a cab to a remote athletic club and found the locker I had hoped I would never have to use. I entered the code and placed a single letter inside. It contained only three words. “I was wrong.” He had once told me that if I ever regretted my choice, he would come for me immediately. When the cab dropped me back at the house, I saw Lucas and Iris standing by the gate, with Michael trailing behind them. Michael was chattering animatedly, and Iris was bent over with laughter. Lucas was smiling indulgently. The sound of the car door closing startled them. The smiles froze on their faces. My eyes were drawn to the crown on Iris’s head. My brow furrowed. A flicker of unease crossed Lucas’s face. He quickly explained, “It’s Iris’s birthday party tonight. She didn’t have any suitable jewelry, so I lent her this crown for the evening.” Iris, her almond-shaped eyes crinkling, covered her mouth with a delicate hand and giggled. “It was so thoughtful of Lucas. He saw I had nothing valuable to wear and brought this for me to use in a pinch.” “Don’t worry, Thea,” she said, her voice syrupy sweet. “I’ll return it as soon as the party is over.” Their intertwined hands were a glaring white in the sunlight. A sharp pain pierced my chest, making every breath an agony. Since my release, Lucas had forbidden me from attending any social events, large or small. We never appeared in public together. He always said it was to protect me from the gossip. I had naively believed he was looking out for me. Now I knew the truth. He just didn’t want to be tainted by his convict wife. Seeing my silence, Lucas pressed on. “This crown is just gathering dust with you anyway. Why not give it to Iris? She needs these things to build her image right now.” “Lucas, do you have any idea what you’re saying?” I heard my own voice tremble. This crown had been custom-made by a famous designer for our wedding. It had caused a sensation at the time, featured in fashion magazines around the world. I had worn it only once, on our wedding day. The rest of the time, it was kept in a glass case, meticulously cared for. This crown was the symbol of the lady of the house. By giving it to Iris, what did that make me, his lawfully wedded wife? Noticing my darkening expression, Lucas quickly changed the subject. “Alright, it’s just a piece of jewelry. Don’t make a fuss. It’s Iris’s birthday party tonight. You should come, too.” Michael chimed in, taking my hand. “Mom, please come. It’s been so long since we went out together.” The images from the video flashed in my mind. A cold dread spread through me, but my expression remained as still as a frozen lake. “I’m a convict. My presence would only bring shame upon you.” Iris, however, linked her arm through mine. “Sister, you shouldn’t say that. We’re family, after all. Besides, you haven’t seen Father since you’ve been out.” At the mention of my father, I hesitated. After a long silence, I finally agreed. Lucas and Michael breathed a sigh of relief. The driver pulled up in Lucas’s custom luxury sedan. Lucas smoothly opened the door for Iris. When I moved to get in, Iris smiled sweetly. “Sister, my dress is so large. Maybe it would be better if you took another car?” Lucas, in the passenger seat, frowned. “It’s Iris’s birthday. We have to be careful with the dress. I’ll call you a car.” “No need.” I turned and walked away before he could finish. Lucas seemed taken aback, but Iris’s voice pulled his attention back. “Let’s go, Lucas. We’re going to be late.” The hesitation on his face vanished. “Let’s go,” he told the driver. The car sped away. It turned out that all the family drivers were suddenly “unavailable.” I, the lady of a wealthy household, couldn’t even get a car. Our villa was in a secluded suburb with no taxi service. As dusk fell, I had no choice but to start walking. A heavy rain began to fall. By the time I arrived at the party, drenched to the bone, it had been going for some time. Lucas and Iris stood side by side, their faces wreathed in smiles, a perfect picture of a happy couple. My father stood nearby, nodding with a pleased expression. The air was filled with the murmurs of guests, praising them as a match made in heaven. Meanwhile, I was stopped by security at the door, my dress dripping, looking like a drowned rat. The commotion at the entrance caught my father’s attention. He strode over, his face grim, and his words were a brutal, public lashing. “Who told you to come here?” “This is your sister’s birthday party. Have you no shame?” “A common criminal. If I were you, I would have killed myself by now. If you had any decency, you would divorce him and let them be happy.” “I have already announced today that Iris is my daughter. Why are you still clinging to Lucas?” “Dad, I am Lucas’s lawfully wedded wife!” I cried out. “Iris is nothing but a charity case our family sponsored! How can she be your daughter?” CRACK. A sharp, stinging slap landed on my cheek, making my ears ring. I had become the center of a spectacle. “You animal!” my father roared. Iris flinched and scurried into Lucas’s arms like a frightened rabbit. And my son, who usually showered me with affection, now refused to even look at me, his small body a stubborn shield in front of Iris. “You’re a convict. What right do you have to question me?” my father spat. “If you had half of Iris’s sense, you would have died in prison instead of embarrassing us here!” The crowd of guests gathered around, some even pulling out their phones to record. I covered my burning cheek, overwhelmed by a crushing wave of humiliation. Lucas looked uneasy. “Father…” he began. “Lucas, Mr. Sterling is here. We should go greet him,” Iris murmured. “But…” “Thea is Dad’s daughter. He won’t hurt her.” Lucas hesitated, but in the end, he let Iris lead him away. He wrapped an arm around her, protecting her, and walked back into the crowd without a second glance. I stood alone, trembling under the mocking gazes of the guests. My own child, the one I had cared for day and night, didn’t even pause. He shot me a look of pure disgust and hurried after Iris. Finally, I broke, fleeing from the laughter and the scorn. My father’s curses followed me. “You reap what you sow! You care about your pride now? It’s too late!” As I hid in a quiet corner of the hotel, weeping, Iris found me. Her face was alight with triumph, her eyes filled with mockery. “Thea Sinclair. How does it feel to have everything taken from you?” “Did you enjoy the five years in prison I gifted you? All I had to do was shed a single tear, and your precious son switched out your design for you.”

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On our wedding anniversary, eight months pregnant, I fell down the stairs. Avery rushed me to the hospital, terrified. As anesthesia took hold, I overheard the surgeon: “We’ve given six times the normal dose—she won’t feel a thing. But the baby’s vitals are stable. Are you sure you want to induce labor? It could paralyze her.” Avery’s voice was ice: “Do it.” “Caleb’s induction into the family is soon. I can’t risk anything threatening his position. This debt is owed to Sabrina and our son.” “Once Caleb’s secure, I’ll heal Daisy. We’ll have another child. But this one… has to die.” A tear slipped down my temple as darkness swallowed me. I woke to a stillborn son and a shattered body—paralyzed from the waist down. Grief was drowned by betrayal. So when Avery spoke of a fresh start, I chose my own path. I faked my death… and disappeared. 1. The news of our son’s death sent me into another spiral of unconsciousness. When I next surfaced, it was to the sound of Avery’s voice, speaking with a friend just outside my room. “You’ve been with Daisy for years, Avery. Don’t you know her at all? If you had just told her Caleb was your son, she would have loved him as her own. Why did you have to do this to her? Turn her into… this?” A long silence followed before Avery’s detached voice finally responded. “I know she would have. But it was a risk I couldn’t afford to take.” “It’s what I promised Sabrina.” “Besides,” he added, his voice chillingly practical, “we can have another child. Daisy is young. We’ll have our own family someday.” The friend sounded incredulous. “This was all because you were afraid Daisy’s child, your legitimate heir, backed by the Sterling family’s influence, would threaten Caleb’s inheritance, wasn’t it? That’s all this was about!” “You’re a monster, Avery! That baby was fully formed. When they carried him out of the OR, I saw him… just a tiny, perfect little thing… How could you?” Hearing this, a phantom tearing sensation ignited in my lower body. The ghost of a baby’s cry echoed in my ears, a razor blade scraping against my heart. The pain was unbearable. “And that’s not even mentioning that Daisy is paralyzed because of you! She’s your wife! Do you have any idea how much she went through, carrying your child for nine months?” “This wouldn’t have happened if she hadn’t been so stubborn, if she hadn’t secretly pricked holes in the…” Avery’s voice trailed off into what sounded like a sigh. “Sabrina was already making a huge concession by allowing Daisy to have a child of her own at all!” “Do you think I don’t feel the pain of this? But I owe the Quinn family everything. What was I supposed to do?” The friend’s voice dropped to a furious hiss. “You should never have gotten involved with Daisy Sterling in the first place!” The conversation ended, the two men parting in anger. Hidden beneath my blankets, I wept in silence, not daring to make a sound. A moment later, the door opened. “Is it all taken care of?” I felt Avery gently adjusting my covers. “Give them a generous severance. Enough to ensure they never set foot in this country again.” He had sent the entire surgical team abroad. A man of decisive, ruthless action. I laughed, a bitter, silent laugh, and kept my eyes squeezed shut. I had believed he was as excited for our baby’s arrival as I was. When I fell, the only person I hated was myself. I had twisted my body, taking the impact on my back, sacrificing my own well-being to shield my belly from any sharp edges. I never imagined it was all a trap. That it was Avery who had poured oil on the stairs, who had engineered my “accident,” who had an executioner waiting for me at the hospital. What a cold, black heart. The husband I adored, the marriage I cherished—all of it, a lie. For his illegitimate son, Avery had murdered our own flesh and blood. All to fulfill some twisted promise and secure an inheritance. A violent tremor wracked my body. But the searing pain that radiated from my legs was nothing, not even a fraction of the agony consuming my heart. 2. My silent trembling must have been visible, because when Avery returned, he saw the quivering mound under the covers and immediately wrapped his arms around me. His voice was a masterpiece of regret. “Daisy, I promise you, we’ll have another child.” “Trust me. I’ll do everything in my power to heal you. Please, don’t cry.” He kissed my forehead, a gesture of profound, counterfeit love. “When you cry, my heart shatters.” I stared blankly ahead, my gaze venomous. I couldn’t look at him, terrified the raw hatred in my eyes would betray me. “Does it really?” I whispered. Avery gently turned my shoulders to face him. I saw the tear tracks on his cheeks, the raw red rimming his eyes. “How could it not? I love you, and I loved our child.” “No one was more excited for our baby to come into this world than I was. What happened… Daisy, I’m the one in the most pain here.” The man was a virtuoso. No wonder I’d never seen through his despicable charade all these years. I remembered his ecstatic joy when we first found out I was pregnant. He’d been like a man who’d discovered a priceless treasure, too happy to sleep. Throughout the pregnancy, he had been obsessively attentive, hovering over me with a dozen layers of caution every time I went near a staircase. Who could have possibly guessed that even then, he was laying the groundwork for his other son, his real family? “Avery, thank you for the gifts. Caleb loves them.” Avery was asleep beside me, but his phone buzzed incessantly. Using his thumbprint, I unlocked it. My world shrank to the glowing screen. I stared for a long time, fat tears plopping onto the glass. The clothes I had lovingly picked out for our baby had all been exchanged, a month ago, for Caleb’s size. The villa I had dreamed of giving to our child was now occupied by Sabrina and her son. The background of their chat history was a photo of the villa’s garden. The three of them—a perfect family—were sitting together on a swing set, radiant with happiness. My heart went numb. Scrolling further up, I found Avery’s correspondence with a Feng Shui master, discussing the most auspicious date for Caleb’s formal induction into the family. It was three months from now. I closed my eyes, a bitter taste flooding my mouth. Three months. It was more than enough time for me to disappear. “I had this dress custom-made by a designer,” Avery said, holding it up. “No one will be able to tell.” My lower body was slightly misshapen from the injury, and even with a cane, the signs of paralysis were visible. Seeing my eyes well up, Avery rushed to my side. I shook my head. “It’s nothing. I was just thinking about when we first met. You were this thoughtful then, too.” When we’d first met, I’d taken a fall while hiking and scraped my arm. He had meticulously sourced a beautiful, long-sleeved summer gown so I could attend my debutante ball without the scrape showing. It was that meticulous care that had won my heart, convincing me to leave my home and marry him. He smiled, a fond, indulgent smile, and knelt to help me with a medical dressing. “I’ll be even better to you from now on. Don’t overthink things. I’ll never be ashamed of you.” If I hadn’t heard the brutal truth with my own ears, I would never have believed this perfect gentleman was a monster who had murdered his own child. My enemy. The man who had pushed me into this abyss. I had no choice but to play along, to feign a more severe paralysis to lower his guard. I knew him. Even after he brought Sabrina and Caleb into the family, he would never willingly let me go. I secretly contacted my best friend, Chloe, and had her arrange for a new hospital and a new medical team. “You have to be careful,” she had warned. “Avery can’t find out. Not a whisper.” Two weeks passed. One morning, I woke to find Avery sitting by my bed, his eyes red, unable to meet my gaze. “Daisy, I’ve booked the best doctors in the world. We’re going to get the feeling back in your legs. I promise.” Yesterday, during a physical therapy assessment, I had deliberately exaggerated the severity of my condition. As expected, today’s medical report was grim. “Everything else seems to be fine,” the doctor had said, a line I was sure Avery had fed him. “However, if you two are thinking of having another child in the near future, I’m afraid I can’t recommend it.” Temporarily infertile? I scoffed internally. Another lie, courtesy of my husband. Women with amputated limbs could have children, but I, with two legs that could still touch the ground, was being declared barren? It was laughable. Fine. I would play his game. “Avery,” I said, my voice carefully fragile. “I know how much you’ve always wanted a child. Maybe… maybe my legs will never get better. What if… what if we adopted?” 3. Saying the words felt like my heart was bleeding out. Avery didn’t notice. He just looked at me, stunned, then pulled me into a tight embrace. “Trust me, Daisy. This is just a temporary solution.” “Once my parents’ wishes are fulfilled, I’ll take you abroad. We’ll start our own new life, the three of us.” He had it all planned out, down to the country where we would live. The one detail he hadn’t accounted for was me already knowing about Caleb. And he was moving fast. His desperation to legitimize his bastard son was palpable. A few days later, he brought the boy to the hospital. “You’re his mother,” Avery said, his expression cautious, as if afraid I would refuse. “It’s only right that you be the first to meet him.” I looked at the boy standing outside my room. He was impeccably dressed, exuding an air of quiet aristocracy. My hatred reached its zenith. Why did his son get to be born with a silver spoon, to grow up cherished and carefree, while my poor, innocent baby was suffocated before he could even see the world? But a smile remained plastered on my face. “Caleb, is it? Come here.” It was only when I saw the locket around his neck that I understood the true meaning of despair. It was an identical locket to the one Avery had given me on the day I reached nine full months of pregnancy. A family heirloom, he’d said. But the one Caleb wore was older, more worn, infinitely more precious. I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Who takes care of you, sweetie? Is she here today?” I wanted to see her. This Sabrina. I wanted to see the woman who had orchestrated my ruin. The words had barely left my mouth when the sharp, confident click of high heels echoed in the room. Avery’s expression changed instantly. “Avery, he’s still so young. I was worried, so I came up… You don’t mind, do you?” It was her. Over the years, every time Avery had gotten drunk and called me to pick him up, I’d seen her hovering in the background. She had been infiltrating our lives all along. I bit down hard on my lip, refusing to show any weakness. “Mrs. Rhodes, hello. I’m Caleb’s mother. I’m also a cardiothoracic surgeon at this hospital. Sabrina Quinn.” She claimed they were university classmates, that Caleb was the result of a one-time accident. He had claimed she was just a surrogate. I knew better. It was just one lie piled on top of another. The pathetic cowards didn’t even have the courage to admit to their affair. “Please, excuse him,” Sabrina said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Caleb just loves making these little trinkets.” Suddenly, the bracelet on her wrist came loose. I stared at it, then my gaze shifted to Avery’s empty wrist. I’d seen it before. It was a crude, handmade thing, but Avery had come home wearing it more than once. Sabrina was marking her territory. I couldn’t maintain my composure any longer. The air in the room was suffocating. “I’m tired, Avery. You should all go.” He didn’t suspect a thing. As Sabrina left, her triumphant smirk was seared into my brain, lingering long after she was gone. I clutched my chest, fighting back the urge to sob. Later that night, Sabrina, on her night shift, came back up to the VIP floor. “Caleb says he really likes Ms. Sterling.” “He wanted her to have this bracelet. I’m so sorry about today, I forgot to take it off.” Avery rubbed his temples. “I don’t wear it often. She probably didn’t even notice. But you should probably avoid her from now on. I don’t want her getting the wrong idea.” “Good. I was so worried she would misunderstand.” Then Sabrina’s tone shifted. “Have you told Ms. Sterling about the family induction ceremony? Her legs… it will be inconvenient. Do you need me to step in…?” “No,” Avery refused without hesitation. “You just need to take care of Caleb.” “Daisy is the lady of this house. My wife. She is the one who should be there for such an occasion.” Suddenly, a nurse rushed in, announcing that I had fallen from my wheelchair. Avery bolted from the room, his face beaded with sweat as he ran back to me. “Daisy! Are you alright?” Just before he burst in, I had twisted my own wrist, a sharp, deliberate motion that brought tears of genuine pain to my eyes. I hadn’t fallen. I had been practicing walking on my own, my recovery far ahead of schedule, when the nurse had suddenly entered to take my temperature. In a panic, I had no choice but to pretend to fall. Avery held me tight, his eyes overflowing with anguish as the nurse described the scene. “Daisy, why are you so foolish?” “Whether you can ever stand again or not, I will always love you.” I hugged him back. If it weren’t for Sabrina and Caleb, I might have been the happiest woman in the world. 4. But his love was worthless. To appease Sabrina, the very next day, he told me it was time for Caleb to be formally welcomed into the family. “Even though he’s adopted,” he lied smoothly, “we have to do this to silence the gossips.” I knew this day was coming. The day Caleb officially became a Rhodes would be the day I left. Meeting Avery’s expectant gaze, I nodded without a word, even offering to help prepare Caleb’s ceremonial attire. Avery was deeply moved. “Caleb will be a good, filial son to you, I promise.” I didn’t want his filial piety! I wanted my own child! The silent, screaming roar inside me was buried beneath a placid exterior, a storm no one could see or hear. After I was discharged, we moved back to the Rhodes family estate. Sabrina and Caleb moved in with us, as if it were their right, and she carried herself with more authority than I, the actual lady of the house, ever had. The elder Rhodeses doted on their newfound grandson, and Sabrina’s status rose accordingly. It was clear they had known about Caleb all along. Only I had been the clown, the fool deceived by a charade for years. On the day of the ceremony, a maid wheeled me into the grand hall of the estate, where the family’s history was enshrined. Sabrina was already waiting. She dismissed the maid and took over the wheelchair, her voice a low, provocative whisper in my ear. “You’ve known all along that Caleb is my child with Avery, haven’t you, Daisy? It’s truly pathetic how you’ve swallowed all this humiliation just to hang on to your title. But what a shame. As grand as the title ‘Mrs. Rhodes’ is, it won’t be yours for much longer.” I smiled faintly. “Are you so proud? Of an illegitimate child born in the shadows? What does it matter if his name is added to the family records?” Sabrina looked at me with exaggerated pity. “After today, Caleb will be groomed as the heir. And you… you’re a cripple. Even if you had managed to produce a child, he would never have compared to my Caleb.” “Oh, and by the way,” she added, her smile turning cruel and sharp, “I heard your baby was a boy, too, wasn’t he?” Her laughter was wild, triumphant. “In a story of two choices, Avery still chose me. Don’t you understand yet?” She could have said anything else. Mocked me in any other way. But why did she have to bring up my poor, lost child? I hadn’t wanted a confrontation. I just wanted to get through this day and leave in peace. Was even that too much to ask? Leaning on my cane, I pushed myself to my feet and swung my hand, the sharp crack of a slap echoing in the hall. “Caleb is a Rhodes. But what, exactly, are you?” At that moment, Caleb ran in and threw his arms around Sabrina’s waist. “Mama! Why did you hit my mama! You’re a bad woman!” The elder Rhodeses followed close behind. Seeing Sabrina clutching her face, tears streaming down her cheeks, their expressions turned to stone. “Daisy, what do you think you’re doing! Who gave you permission to raise a hand in this hall!” Avery’s mother shrieked. “A barren hen is less useful than a dog! Get out! Don’t be an eyesore!” She shoved me, hard.

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1 Twenty-two years. That’s how long we’d been inseparable, my childhood sweetheart and I. And finally, I was getting what I’d always dreamed of: a proposal from Ethan. Our friends, ecstatic, threw us a party, goading us to interlock arms for a celebratory toast. I shyly raised my glass, moving closer to Ethan. But the man who had only ever been gentle with me suddenly shoved me away. Hard. I crashed to the floor, the shards of my champagne flute slicing into my palm. Ethan just stared down at me, his eyes cold as he spat, “Have you no shame?” Later, on my way home from the hospital, I walked in on a scene that seared itself into my memory. There was Ethan, pinning his old flame, Lila, against the mattress of what was supposed to be our marital bed, his voice a low, desperate murmur. “Come back to me. Just say you’ll come back, and you’ll be the only one I marry.” Watching them, so intimately entwined, a bitter regret washed over me. I had made a terrible mistake. To save myself from another, deeper humiliation, I decided to run. I would disappear on our wedding day. But after I left, the man who had so casually offered my place to another woman lost his mind, tearing the world apart to find me. “Candi, that overseas training program you mentioned… is the spot still open?” I stood under the sickly yellow glow of a streetlight, my voice tight as I fought to keep my emotions in check over the phone with my boss. Candi paused, confused. “It is. Why are you asking? I thought you were getting married.” The breath I’d been holding finally escaped me. “Not anymore. Is the spot still mine if I want it?” “Of course! You’re the best I’ve ever mentored. I’d be thrilled to have you,” she said, her voice filled with a warmth that almost broke me. The moment I hung up, the dam burst. Sobs wracked my body, each one a tremor of pain. The conversation I’d overheard in our—in his—apartment played on a loop in my head, a slow, torturous dissection of my heart. After a long while, my emotions subsided, leaving me aware of the dress I was wearing. It was a size too small, a beautiful gown that now felt like a cage, squeezing the air from my lungs. I found a late-night clothing shop and changed out of it. It had been custom-made for me by Ethan. I’d loved it, despite the fact it never quite fit. As the sales clerk watched with a regretful look, I shoved the gown into a nearby trash can. It was astonishing, the sense of liberation that came from shedding something that didn’t fit, something I had endured for far too long. Just as I stepped out of the shop, my phone buzzed. It was a notification from the security camera I’d installed in the apartment to keep an eye on the renovations. A camera had been disconnected. After a moment’s hesitation, I reconnected it. The feed flickered back to life, and there was Lila, sauntering around the bedroom in the lingerie Ethan had bought for me. The very set I’d been too shy to ever wear. It looked, I had to admit, perfect on her. Her fingers trailed mockingly over the wedding photos of Ethan and me that lined the wall. The camera quality was sharp enough to capture the derisive smirk on her face. “If I hadn’t come back, would you really have married her?” she purred. Ethan didn’t answer. Instead, he began pulling the photos from the wall, tossing them carelessly into a corner of the closet. Lila smiled, settling back onto the bed. Her bare foot traced a line up Ethan’s calf. “You staged this whole grand proposal just to get my attention, didn’t you? If you’re going to keep playing the strong, silent type, I might just leave again.” “Don’t you dare,” Ethan growled, the fire in him finally erupting. He pushed her back into the mattress, his gaze fierce and possessive. Lila just giggled, her arms snaking around his neck to pull him down. “I knew you could never forget me.” Her voice was a triumphant whisper. “Tell me, is Anna genuinely that naive, or is she just playing dumb? The clothes you bought her were all my style, in my size. The wedding ring has my initials engraved on it. Even the design of this apartment is the one I told you I dreamed of. And she never suspected a thing.” Ethan said nothing more. He just kissed her, and they fell into a desperate, tangled embrace. Boom. A firework exploded across the sky. But my own world had gone silent, a deafening roar in my ears. All this time, I thought he was just careless, forgetful about my size. My hand trembled as I pulled the ring from my finger. Using my phone’s light, I searched its smooth surface. And there, on the inner band, were the tiny letters: L.S. In that instant, all the strength drained from my body. I couldn’t even hold onto the ring. It slipped from my grasp, falling through a sewer grate with a series of metallic clinks. Each tiny sound was a hammer blow against my heart. No wonder he’d acted so strangely at the karaoke bar when Lila showed up. No wonder he hadn’t cared that he’d hurt me. I was just a stand-in. A placeholder until the real star of his life decided to return. What a joke. I was the one who had been by his side for twenty-two years. I was the one who had supported him tirelessly for the eight years it took to build his company from nothing. And in the end, I was nothing more than a substitute for the one person in the world I despised. Their kiss ended, and Lila stroked his cheek. “Ethan, my love,” she murmured. “On your wedding day… will you run away with me?” “You mean…” Ethan’s eyes lit up. He gently brushed his finger over her nose, and they shared a conspiratorial smile. I shut off the screen and started to laugh. A ragged, broken sound that made passersby turn and stare. My heart felt like it had been crushed under a great weight, an agony so profound it was paralyzing. The cruelest part wasn’t being Lila’s replacement. It was knowing the man I loved had been plotting to humiliate me all along. Ethan, you are truly ruthless. 2 I sat on a roadside bench for a long time, until Ethan and Lila finally emerged from the building. When he saw me, Ethan’s arm, which had been wrapped around Lila, instantly dropped. “You’re back? Why are you sitting out here? It’s filthy.” His face was a mask of disgust, and he didn’t seem to notice my swollen, red-rimmed eyes. My gaze drifted to Lila, and he instinctively moved to shield her, a protective gesture that was painfully familiar. It was the same way he used to shield me from Lila when we were kids. Now, our roles were reversed. A bitter smile touched my lips. Before I could speak, Ethan launched into a hurried explanation. “Don’t get the wrong idea. Lila had a bit too much to drink, so I just brought her back to rest for a while. She felt bad about it and insisted on leaving as soon as it got dark. I was just worried about her going home alone, so I offered to walk her.” The man who never bothered to explain himself to me was suddenly a fountain of excuses, all for Lila. He felt like a stranger, not the person I’d spent twenty-two years of my life with. I took a deep breath, my voice laced with a sarcasm I couldn’t hide. “If she really had any sense of propriety, she wouldn’t have gone home with another woman’s fiancé. And in case you haven’t noticed, it’s the middle of the night.” Caught in his lie, Ethan’s face flushed with anger. “Anna, Lila is your sister, for God’s sake. What are you trying to imply?” Her sister? My eyelashes fluttered. He dared to call the person who had stolen everything from me my sister. Had he forgotten what Lila did? Because of her mother, I was swapped at birth and spent seven years being abused by strangers. When my real parents finally found me, Lila’s lies and manipulations turned them against me, ensuring I never felt a shred of their love. She and her mother took everything, but that wasn’t enough. They were the reason my hand was permanently damaged, shattering my dream of becoming an artist. I would never forgive Lila. And I would certainly never call her my sister. “She is not my sister,” I retorted, my voice shaking with rage. “She’s the daughter of a kidnapper, a monster.” My defiance was met with a sharp slap across the face. “Anna, that’s enough! Apologize to Lila. Now.” “No.” I stared into his eyes, my nails digging so deep into my bandaged palm that the wound reopened, staining the gauze red. The physical pain was nothing compared to the agony in my chest. The boy who used to get teary-eyed if I so much as scraped my knee had just struck me. For Lila. From behind Ethan, Lila shot me a triumphant smirk before her expression melted into one of fragile vulnerability. She tugged on his sleeve. “It’s okay, Ethan. It’s my fault. I never should have come here. Please, don’t fight because of me.” Ethan’s hand closed over hers, and his gaze on me turned to ice. “Anna, what happened back then was her mother’s doing. It had nothing to do with Lila. It’s been years. Why are you still holding onto it with such petty resentment?” I almost laughed. “That’s rich, coming from you, Ethan. You saw the scars all over my body. You saw this hand,” I held it up, “the hand that can no longer hold a paintbrush. And you call this being petty?” His face tightened, his public defense of her shattered. “Just look at yourself,” he snarled, his voice stripped of all its former warmth. “So bitter and sharp-tongued. It’s no wonder your own parents can’t stand you.” With a final, forceful push, he shoved me aside and walked away, his arm once again protectively around Lila. I stumbled back, my spine hitting a lamppost with a sickening thud. The pain left me doubled over, gasping for air. It was the third time he had laid a hand on me in a single day. When we were ten, Lila had used her own body to frame me, making my parents think I was a violent, hateful child. I had cried for days, and a ten-year-old Ethan had been the one to comfort me. His childish voice still echoed in my memory. ‘You’re wonderful, Anna. If they can’t see that, they’re blind. I see it. I’ll always, always choose you.’ I didn’t know then that his words would take root in my heart, growing there for two decades. And now, he was telling me that no one could ever love me. That “no one” included him. The words that had once been my salvation had transformed into a volley of poisoned arrows, all aimed directly at my heart. 3 I dragged my exhausted body back to the new apartment. A text from Candi came through with my flight information. It was scheduled for ten days from now—the morning of my wedding. My eyes fell on the little decorative robot on the counter, its face a cheerful, smiling screen. The large numbers on it displayed the countdown to our wedding. Now, it was a countdown to my escape. How fitting. It felt like destiny. Ethan came home to find me re-wrapping the bandage on my hand. His eyes flickered with something—maybe guilt?—when he saw the injury. He sighed, sinking to his knees in front of me. He gently unwrapped the gauze and began dabbing the cut with antiseptic. “You know, the reason I’m nice to Lila is for your sake,” he began, his voice low and reasonable. “It’s been so many years, and you still can’t get over the hurdle with your parents. We’re about to get married, and you have no family to attend, hardly any friends. You can’t even scrape together a group of bridesmaids.” I pursed my lips, saying nothing. He knew my story better than anyone. He knew every cut, every bruise, every betrayal. He had seen my parents choose Lila over and over until my heart was shattered. He had supported me when I finally cut them off. I wasn’t without friends; he knew that. They were just married, with families of their own. We were the ones who had waited, because he wanted to establish his career first. I had waited for him, my twenties slipping away without a single word of complaint. And now, he was the one bringing it up, the one who found me lacking. The boy who once held me and whispered, ‘You only need me,’ had been swept away by the river of time. A sharp sting on my hand made me flinch, and I tried to pull away. He held on tight, giving me a look of gentle rebuke before bringing my hand to his lips and blowing softly on the cut. “Such a big girl, and you still can’t handle a little pain. What would you ever do without me?” I watched his performance of feigned tenderness and started to question everything. Were all those years of warmth and care just a role he was playing, a part he’d become lost in? And was I the only one who had truly believed the script? “I was going to ask earlier,” he said, “why did you change? Where’s the evening gown?” “It was ruined. I threw it out.” I had no desire to talk, but he seemed oblivious, chattering more than he had in years. After tossing the used cotton swab, he put away the first-aid kit, lecturing me as he went. “I apologized to Lila on your behalf for tonight. From now on, you need to think before you speak. Stop dragging up the past.” I watched his back as he walked away and let out a soft, hollow laugh. “Ethan, there is no ‘from now on’ for us.” “What?” He turned, a flicker of awareness in his eyes, but I had already looked down, busying myself with my phone. Back in the bedroom, the half-empty wall was a stark reminder of what had happened. The lingerie lay discarded on the bed. I picked it up and tossed it under the frame. Even so, the bed felt contaminated, filthy. The thought of them tangled on these sheets, their desperate, passionate embrace… A wave of nausea rose in my throat, and I retched, right there on the bed. Ethan emerged from the bathroom and saw the mess, his brow furrowing in annoyance. “What’s wrong with you? Normal people find a trash can or a toilet when they feel sick. You just puke on the bed?” Seeing the ghastly pallor of my face, he softened his tone. “Well, looks like we’ll have to sleep somewhere else tonight.” He opened the closet to find a fresh set of sheets, accidentally knocking over the picture frames he’d stashed in the corner. They crashed to the floor, glass shattering everywhere. Guiltily, he bent to pick them up. “A couple of the photos fell down earlier,” he explained, avoiding my eyes. “I was afraid they’d break, so I took them all down. Guess I ended up breaking one anyway. You should secure the nails better when you hang them back up.” I gave a noncommittal hum and took the clean sheets from him, heading for the guest room. Ethan rubbed his nose, sighed, and resignedly began to clean up the mess. 4 I woke in the guest room to the sun high in the sky. Ethan hadn’t come to find me last night, and for the first time in a long time, I had slept soundly. Stretching, I walked into the living room and saw a plate of breakfast on the table with a note beside it. Anna, I’m off to work. Don’t forget to eat. Be good! The same old tenderness, the same old care. Except now, it didn’t fill me with happiness. With my new perspective, the gesture felt tainted, part of a larger deception. I scraped the food and the note into the trash can without a second thought. Just after I finished my own breakfast, the robot assistant chirped a schedule reminder. I’d completely forgotten. Today was the day we were supposed to go to the wedding planner to choose my gown and finalize the decor. Apparently, Ethan had forgotten too. I dismissed the notification and spent the next two hours on my phone, methodically canceling every order for our wedding decor. I packed up everything that had already been delivered and arranged for it to be returned. What couldn’t be returned, I threw away. Piece by piece, I erased myself from this apartment, just as I was erasing my love for Ethan from my heart. Soon, there was no trace I had ever lived in this house that was never truly mine. I was holding a beautiful, expensive photo album, about to burn it, when his call came. “Anna, we were supposed to try on wedding dresses and look at venues today. Why didn’t you remind me?” “I forgot, too,” I said flatly. There was a long silence on his end. He clearly hadn’t expected that answer. Finally, he told me to get ready and that he was waiting downstairs. When I finally ambled down, I saw Lila was in the car with him. She was in the passenger seat, and she smiled at me as if nothing was wrong. I quietly opened the back door and slid in. Both of them flinched. Ethan’s eyes met mine in the rearview mirror several times before he started making excuses. “I thought, since Lila has such great taste, we could ask for her help. It’ll make things go faster. And, uh, she gets carsick, so I let her sit up front.” I nodded and turned to look out the window. In a few days, I would be on a plane to another country, for who knew how long. I might as well enjoy one last look at this city. A flicker of movement in my peripheral vision caught my eye. Ethan was squeezing Lila’s hand. She squeezed back, and they engaged in a silent, playful tug-of-war. I closed my eyes and feigned sleep until we arrived. At the wedding planner’s office, as the designer pulled up the venue mockups, Lila plopped herself right down in the chair next to the computer. Ethan stood beside her, leaning in close. They murmured to each other, pointing at the screen, looking for all the world like a happy couple planning their future. I sat on a sofa across the room, feeling no desire to fight for my place. It was only after they had made all the decisions that Ethan seemed to remember I was there. He saw me on the sofa, looking completely detached, and his mood soured. “Why are you sitting so far away? Come over here and help.” I glanced at the screen. “I’ve seen it,” I said with a serene smile. “What you two picked out… it’s perfect.” Something in my tone must have set Lila off. She bit her lip, her face crumpling into a mask of hurt. “This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have come.” With that, she bolted from the office. Ethan started to chase after her, but he stopped as he passed me. “I went to all this trouble to get Lila to help you, and this is how you act? What is your problem?” he hissed. “Fine. You can pick everything out yourself now.” I couldn’t take the injustice anymore. I shot up and grabbed the back of his shirt, pulling him up short. He stumbled, nearly crashing into the glass door. I met his furious gaze with a calm of my own. “What exactly,” I asked, “is it that I’m doing wrong?” He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He just shook my hand off and stormed out after her. The designer looked at me with pity. “Ma’am,” she asked gently, “would you like to choose a different theme? And for the dress… you don’t need them. You should pick what you like.” I gave her a grateful smile. “No, what they chose is fine. As for the dress… let him decide.” When I got home, I picked up the beautiful photo album again. This time, without a flicker of hesitation, I tossed it into the fireplace.

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The hospital’s new resident Gloria claimed to see prophetic live comments. During surgery, she announced: “Dr. Reed will slip in one minute, severing the artery. The patient will die.” A minute later, my scalpel slipped. The patient bled out. When grieving relatives arrived, Gloria warned colleagues: “In thirty minutes, the father will stab Dr. Reed – half an inch left of her heart.” Thirty minutes later, the blade pierced my chest at the predicted spot. As my fiancé Mark rushed me to surgery, Gloria sighed: “They’ll find Evie’s pregnant during the operation…and the baby isn’t yours.” The pre-op scan confirmed her words. Mark swore he’d never touched me, breaking our engagement as I hemorrhaged. I died abandoned on the operating table. Gloria became legendary. When I reopened my eyes, it was her first prophetic day again. Gloria’s voice was a shot of panic in the sterile calm of the OR. “Dr. Reed, stop! You have to stop the surgery, you’re going to kill him!” The entire medical team froze. “Gloria, what are you talking about?” the head nurse snapped. “The patient’s life is on the line. This is no time for jokes!” But Gloria’s face was a mask of unnerving confidence. “I’m telling the truth. I can see comments—they predict the future!” She held up a hand as if to read from it. “If you don’t believe me, I’ll read them to you.” “‘In one more minute, Dr. Reed’s hand will slip. She’ll sever the patient’s artery, causing a massive hemorrhage, and the patient will die.’” Every person in the room stopped moving, their eyes snapping to me. In that same instant, a wave of vertigo washed over me. I stared down at the scalpel in my hand, a disbelieving tremor running through me. I was… reborn. But before the reality could fully sink in, a shriek shattered the silence. “His artery is severed!” the head nurse cried, her face pale with panic. “Massive hemorrhage! We’re losing him! Get cross-matched plasma, now! Prep for emergency resuscitation!” Her voice yanked me back to the present. I stared in horror at the blood pooling in the patient’s chest cavity, the crimson tide rising with terrifying speed. “Evelyn, what the hell are you doing?” one of the other surgeons demanded, his voice thick with fury. “You’re the lead surgeon! How could you be so careless? Do you have any regard for this man’s life?” I bowed my head, my hands moving on instinct, suturing the wound with frantic precision. I didn’t have time to argue. But inside, my mind was a raging storm. How? The second I realized I was back, I had gripped the scalpel with all my strength. I made sure it wouldn’t slip. So why did it happen all over again? Why was his artery still cut? The operating room descended into controlled chaos, but Gloria remained perfectly still. She stood to the side, shaking her head with an air of tragic pity. “It’s no use,” she said softly, just loud enough for everyone to hear. “You can’t save him.” “The moment Dr. Reed’s scalpel cut the artery, the prophecy of the comments was fulfilled. This patient was destined to die. No one can change that.” As if on cue, the heart monitor shrieked. A long, piercing beep echoed through the room, signaling what we all knew was coming. His heart rate had dropped to zero. Just as Gloria had predicted, the patient on the table died from blood loss, our resuscitation efforts utterly futile. A heavy silence fell over the room. The other staff stared at the still body, their faces a mixture of disbelief and shock. “But… why?” one of them murmured, re-checking the vitals. “The sutures were immediate, the bleeding was controlled, the plasma was a perfect match… He should have stabilized.” Instinctively, their gazes shifted to Gloria. In that moment, her credibility was forged in the crucible of our failure. They believed her. Gloria let out a somber sigh. “The future shown in the comments is immutable. Once a prediction comes to pass, the entire chain of events is set in stone. There’s no escaping it.” Her eyes, filled with a calculated worry, landed on me. “Dr. Reed, the patient is gone. There’s no point in looking for another reason. The simple fact is, your hand slipped. Instead of trying to find excuses, you should probably be thinking about how you’re going to explain this to his family.” She then addressed the room. “Everyone, let’s not just stand here. We all need to write our incident reports.” Her words were a cold splash of reality. The patient had collapsed from a sudden heart attack at work. His family lived out of state and were on their way, expecting to hear news of a successful surgery. They would be here any minute. The team dispersed, a cloud of grim duty hanging over them as they left to document the tragedy. Gloria cast one last look at me, a subtle shake of her head, before turning to leave as well. I remained rooted to the spot, a cold sweat breaking out across my skin. I couldn’t wrap my head around it. I know I held that scalpel steady. So how was his artery still severed? Was Gloria right? Was the future truly unchangeable? While the others wrote their reports, I locked myself in the operating room, replaying the events for hours. Eventually, the family arrived, their faces etched with the fatigue of a long, frantic train journey. The first thing they saw was their son’s body, his face a waxy, lifeless white. A gut-wrenching cry tore from his mother’s throat. “My boy! Oh, my baby boy! You were just on a video call with us last night! You said you were coming home for the holidays… How can you just be… gone?” “Open your eyes, son, please! Look at us! We’re here, Mom and Dad are here to see you…” The parents’ sobs were like a physical blow. Even the most hardened nurses around me were wiping away tears. My own throat felt tight enough to choke me. In all my years as a surgeon, I had snatched countless patients from the jaws of death. I couldn’t have lost one to a simple slip of the hand. It didn’t make sense. As I struggled for an explanation, the father’s grief curdled into rage. He rounded on us, his eyes blazing. “Which one of you was his surgeon? My son was supposed to be fine! You said it was a ninety-percent success rate! You will give me an answer, or so help me, you’ll pay with your lives!” He scanned our faces, a predator seeking his prey. One of the nurses, hoping to placate him, began to recount what had happened in the OR. The moment he heard I was the lead surgeon, that my hand had slipped and caused the fatal hemorrhage, his entire demeanor shifted. He spotted the name tag on my white coat: Dr. Evelyn Reed. His eyes locked onto mine. He shoved through the crowd and stormed towards me, yanking me forward by the collar of my coat. “You’re Dr. Evelyn Reed? You’re the one who killed my son!” His face was a mask of pure hatred, a mirror image of the one I remembered from my past life. And with his rage came Gloria’s perfectly timed, panicked cry. “Oh no! The comments! They’re saying the father is about to pull a knife and stab Dr. Reed! The blade… it’s aimed for the left side of her heart.” Her words hung in the air as the father began to drag me by my collar toward the hospital exit. He was strong, his grip like a vice. I couldn’t break free. The other staff, hearing Gloria’s prediction, started to move forward to intervene. But the father suddenly ripped a sharp paring knife from his pocket. “You doctors… you don’t care about a single life!” he roared, his voice cracking with pain. “My son was healthy! How does he just die during surgery? I don’t care anymore! Today, one of you worthless butchers is going to pay for what you did!” He pressed the cold steel of the knife against my throat, dragging me backward toward the entrance. The chill of the blade was a ghost of a memory, a phantom from my previous death. In my last life, it had played out just like this. He had dragged me outside, and in the ensuing struggle, he had driven the knife straight into my chest. This time, I could have run. I could have left the hospital before he even arrived. But if Gloria was right, if the future was truly unavoidable, then running would be pointless. He hauled me out into the open air of the hospital entrance. The medical staff followed, forming a nervous semi-circle. Gloria stood among them, her voice a placating balm. “Sir, we are all devastated by your son’s death, but he can’t be brought back. You can’t blame us for what happened. Dr. Reed is a wonderful, moral doctor. She’s saved countless lives. Your son’s death was a tragic accident.” Her words were like gasoline on a fire. “Shut up!” the father screamed. “She’s one of you! Of course you’d defend her! It was my son who died, not yours! You talk like it’s nothing!” He was sobbing now, tears streaming down his face. “He was my only child! He just graduated college! He was only twenty-five! Twenty-five years old, and he’s gone!” He brandished the knife, forcing everyone to back away. Once they were at a safe distance, the pressure on my neck eased slightly. But before I could even draw a full breath, his voice dropped to a venomous whisper in my ear. “Evelyn Reed. You incompetent butcher. You killed my son. Now you’re going to pay for it with your life.” In a flash of movement, he whipped the knife away from my throat and lunged, aiming directly for my chest. I saw the glint of the blade coming for the left side of my heart and twisted my body, trying to dodge. For a split second, I thought I’d made it. But it was as if the blade had a mind of its own, correcting its course in mid-air. His other hand shot out, clamping down on my shoulder, and he guided the knife with chilling accuracy into the exact spot Gloria had predicted. Why? I dodged it! Why did it still hit me in the exact same place? The searing pain sent my world blurring at the edges, and I didn’t have time to think. As I staggered back, hospital security, who had been circling around, finally saw their opening. They tackled the father from behind, wrestling him to the ground. “Let me go! Let me go!” he shrieked, struggling against them. “You murderers! You killed my son! I’ll kill you all!” Ignoring his crazed screams, my colleagues swarmed around me. “She’s bleeding! Get her to an OR, now!” “Where’s the gurney? Someone get a gurney!” Within seconds, a stretcher appeared. As they lifted me onto it, I could still hear the father’s curses and threats. While they rushed me back inside, their voices were a low hum of awe and fear, all directed at Gloria. “Gloria, your comments… they’re unbelievable.” “You predicted everything, down to the exact spot. It’s… terrifying.” Gloria basked in their reverence, a flicker of smug pride in her eyes before she masked it with humility. “Of course,” she murmured. We finally reached the surgical ward. Just like last time, my fiancé, Mark, came running, his face a mess of panic and fear. “Evie!” he cried, his eyes red-rimmed. “I heard you were stabbed! How bad is it? Are you okay?” I tried to speak, to tell him something, but Gloria beat me to it. She placed a gentle hand on Mark’s shoulder, her expression dripping with pity. “Mark… there’s something… I don’t know if I should say.” “What is it?” Mark demanded, his voice strained. “If it’s about Evie, just say it!” The surrounding staff fell silent, their attention fixed on Gloria. Under the weight of their gazes, she glanced at me, then shook her head sorrowfully. “Aigh, I really didn’t want to be the one to say this. Evie’s my mentor, she brought me into this hospital… But what she’s done… it’s just… I saw another comment, and I can’t believe it…” “Gloria, spit it out!” Mark snapped. “Yeah, stop drawing it out,” a colleague added. “Dr. Reed needs surgery. We don’t have time for this!” Finally, Gloria spoke. “Alright, but you all forced me. Don’t blame me for being the one to tear them apart.” She turned her pity-filled eyes to Mark. “When they get Evie into surgery,” she said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, “don’t be surprised if they find out she’s pregnant. And, Mark… the baby isn’t yours.”

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It was the third year of my marriage to Marcus Kane. He was thirty-five. I wasn’t even twenty-one, just a senior in college. I was still debating whether I wanted to be a stay-at-home wife when I overheard him chatting with a group of his high-powered friends. “Sophie has nothing going for her but her youth,” he said, his voice casual. “Compared to her, Isabel is so much more sophisticated. I’m starting to regret this marriage. Keeping a young girl on the side costs pennies compared to this. A divorce now would be a massive financial hit.” The next day, I handed him the divorce papers. When he saw the clause stating I would walk away with nothing, a long sigh of relief escaped him. He even put on a show of magnanimity. “I’ll give you twenty million,” he said. “Consider it compensation.” I smiled and refused. “I’m still young. I can afford to play.” He didn’t know that my brother was Alex Thorne, one of the most powerful men in the city. For years, Marcus had only managed to climb into the inner circle of the elite thanks to my brother’s support. By divorcing me, his losses were only just beginning. 1 For my senior year internship, I decided to go to Marcus’s company. I wanted to be able to sneak a few more glances at my handsome husband every day. As a low-level intern, I kept such a low profile that even Marcus didn’t know I was there. I didn’t want to be a distraction or cause him any trouble. Sometimes, I’d overhear the other interns gossiping about him. I’d listen intently, but never joined in. “Mr. Kane is so hot. Thirty-five is a man’s prime.” “Too bad he’s married. And to some unknown young girl, apparently.” “Ugh, why can’t I be that lucky…” When I was eighteen, Marcus had pursued me with a singular focus. On our very first date, he told me he was looking for a wife, not a fling. He gave me the ring right then and there. I met his intensity with my own. We dated for a year and then got married. It was impulsive, intoxicating, sweet, and blissful. He gave me a fantasy romance beyond my wildest dreams. The love of a powerful CEO was direct and overwhelming, a force of nature that swept me off my feet and left me completely disoriented. If I hadn’t come to intern at his company, I might never have discovered his secrets. Isabel. Marcus’s executive assistant. She was stunningly beautiful, a classic, sophisticated woman. She often accompanied him on business trips and to client dinners. She had her hand in every aspect of the company; in some ways, she knew it even better than he did. Before they learned of his marriage, everyone in the company assumed Isabel was the true boss’s wife. I’d even hear the veteran employees, who had been with them from the start, complaining in the cafeteria. “Mr. Kane must be blind, having a goddess like Isabel by his side and not cherishing her.” “And after she quit her senior position at that publicly-traded company just to be his assistant.” “Just you watch. Once the passion fades, he’ll divorce that girl and end up with Isabel.” The rumors were everywhere, but I never let them bother me. After all, the passion between Marcus and me was reignited every single night. That is, until a company dinner where Isabel, drunk, confessed her feelings for Marcus in front of everyone. It wasn’t so much a confession as an ultimatum. She asked him if he had any feelings for her. Marcus was silent for a long time. Isabel pressed him again. “If you don’t have feelings for me, why won’t you approve my resignation letter?” Marcus’s face was grim. He finally answered with a single word. “Yes.” Then, he looked at her, his gaze full of a deep, complicated emotion. “I do have feelings for you. I can’t lose you, so I can’t sign your resignation. Is that okay?” Isabel smiled. She drained a glass of liquor from the table, grabbed her purse, and walked out. The air in the room was thick for two seconds. Then Marcus chased after her. The only people at that dinner were the old guard, the ones who had built the company with Marcus and Isabel. I wasn’t there. But a bubbly girl I’d become friendly with, Jenna, loved gossip. She’d filmed the whole thing and sent it to me privately. Jenna texted me: 【Do you think something’s going to happen between Mr. Kane and Isabel tonight?】 I replied: 【Probably not… I hope.】 【They’re grown adults, they’ve known each other for years, they have this deep connection, they’ve been drinking, and she just confessed… and you think nothing will happen?】 I typed back, my fingers firm: 【Marcus is married. He should have some self-control. Besides, Isabel doesn’t need to be a homewrecker!】 【You have a point. But we’ll know for sure tomorrow if something happened.】 I didn’t understand what she meant by “we’ll know for sure tomorrow.” But a moment after I closed her chat window, the answer came to me. A message from Marcus. He said he wouldn’t be home tonight. A last-minute work thing. A tremor went through my heart. I immediately called him. At first, he didn’t pick up. I called again, and again. Finally, he answered. “Hey, baby. My phone was on silent, I didn’t hear it. What’s up?” I fought to keep my voice steady, my nails digging into the flesh of my palm. “Honey, are you really not coming home tonight?” “Yeah, it’s a team dinner, everyone’s here. I can’t get away. Please understand, baby.” I bit my lip, forcing myself to ask the next question. “Are there any women there?” He paused, then chuckled. “No. When did you start checking up on me? Want me to video call and prove my innocence?” As he was speaking, I heard a soft, rustling sound. The distinct sound of a crisp dress shirt rubbing against hotel sheets. In the past, when our love was a fever, that was a sound I heard often. “Hnngh…” A low grunt escaped his lips on the other end. In that single, fleeting moment, all the turmoil in my heart vanished. After three years with Marcus, after countless nights of passion, I knew exactly what that sound meant. It was the sound of a man trying to suppress a wave of pleasure. A detail he probably wasn’t even aware of himself. Perfect. I didn’t even have to stop him from cheating. The deed was already done. I gave a bitter laugh. “No need for a video call…” I was afraid it would burn my eyes out. “You have fun. I’m going to sleep.” My heart felt like a pile of cold ash. I was about to hang up when Marcus spoke again, his voice now a low, raspy drawl. “Baby, we just closed a huge deal tonight. Starting tomorrow, the team’s going to be in overdrive. I’ll probably be working very late for a while. You don’t have to wait up for me for dinner.” Working in overdrive. Or getting “overdrive” with Isabel. To me, it no longer mattered. 2 The phone call ended. I didn’t sleep a wink. I arrived at the office with dark circles under my eyes. My brain was still a blank fog when Jenna sidled up to me, eager to continue last night’s gossip. “Something definitely happened between Mr. Kane and Isabel last night.” I frowned slightly. She continued, “Mr. Kane’s shirt was all wrinkled this morning, and… he was wearing the same clothes as yesterday. That means he didn’t go home at all, right?” I nodded, not having the energy to praise her keen eye. “And Isabel was late this morning,” Jenna went on, “When she came in, she was practically glowing. You know how she’s usually all business? Today she was like a different person.” “A different person how?” I asked. She thought for a moment. “Brighter, sexier, almost… purring. See for yourself.” I looked up. I saw Isabel walk in, wearing a tight, form-fitting dress that hugged her curves. I’d seen that dress before. I had been shopping with Marcus when I spotted it. They didn’t have my size, so I paid for it and asked the clerk to ship it to Marcus’s office when it came in. Apparently, the shipment had arrived. But the recipient had changed. Isabel was in a great mood. She walked in and asked what everyone wanted to drink, her treat. The office erupted in cheers. I sat in my corner, a bitter cocktail of emotions churning in my stomach. I tried to lose myself in work, but it was useless. I drifted through the morning in a haze. At lunch, I was eating takeout at my desk when Isabel walked into Marcus’s office carrying several bags of exquisite-looking food. She went in. And didn’t come out until the afternoon. When she finally emerged, it was late, almost time to go home. Beside me, Jenna made a tsk-tsk sound. “The world these days,” she sighed. “Of all the men Isabel could have, she had to go for a married one. Little Chang, whose desk is closer to the office, said that as soon as Isabel went in, she threw herself into Mr. Kane’s arms. They nearly turned the office into a hotel room!” With that, Jenna sent me a photo that Chang had secretly taken. Isabel was sitting on Marcus’s lap, feeding him. The look on their faces, their posture… it was painfully intimate. “I can’t imagine how heartbroken Mr. Kane’s wife would be if she saw this,” Jenna whispered with a sigh. Across from us, our manager, Mr. Davies, frowned. “They’re two consenting adults. What business is it of yours?” Jenna didn’t catch his meaning and added playfully, “You’re right. She’s definitely the ‘mistress’ in this love story!” Mr. Davies was not amused. He slapped a thick binder on Jenna’s desk. “Since you’re so free, you can finish this. You’re not leaving until it’s done.” Jenna’s face fell. I quietly sent her a message: 【Mr. Davies and Isabel go way back. He’s definitely on her side. You should probably avoid comments like that in the future.】 Jenna replied with a string of crying emojis. I tried to console her: 【Don’t worry, I’ll help you with it. We’ll finish it quickly and I’ll treat you to lobster rolls after.】 She cheered up immediately. That evening, after we had finally finished our extra work and were about to leave for dinner, Mr. Davies called out to us again. “You’ve worked hard. Let’s all go out for a late supper.” He didn’t give us a chance to refuse. He led us to a restaurant near the office. After dinner, he herded us to a karaoke bar. We were reluctant, but we had no choice. As interns, we had no power. We found a dark corner and started playing a game on our phones, getting completely absorbed. We didn’t even notice the private room slowly filling up with more people. Until I heard a familiar voice. I looked up and saw Marcus, holding court in the center of a group of industry bigwigs. At first, they talked about projects. Then, the conversation drifted to their personal lives. Kids, wives, in-laws… and of course, mistresses. “I saw Isabel’s post on social media,” one of them said. “Something about soulmates finally getting together. What’s up? Did you finally wise up and claim her?” My ears perked up. Marcus’s voice was calm. “You guys don’t understand the situation that day. I had no choice. Isabel was forcing my hand. If I didn’t keep her, she was going to quit. You know how important she is to the company. The company can’t run without her. And… you could say I can’t run without her.” “But is Isabel willing to be the other woman? Marcus, be careful you don’t play with fire and get burned.” “Yeah, man, we all saw how much effort you put into marrying that little girl. Forget about whether you can keep your side piece happy, what if your main squeeze finds out? All hell would break loose.” “Not necessarily,” another chimed in. “If Isabel herself doesn’t mind, what right does the little girl have to complain?” “She’s been coddled by Marcus for years. Do you really think she could handle going back to a normal, ordinary life? Even if she found out, she wouldn’t dare make a move. She’ll cling to the ‘Mrs. Kane’ title for dear life. At least it guarantees a life of luxury.” They went back and forth, but the consensus was clear: as long as Marcus could keep Isabel happy and quiet, the one at home wouldn’t dare cause a scene. They even congratulated him on successfully having his cake and eating it too. Jenna’s face was scrunched up in disgust. She leaned over and whispered, “So gross.” Then she added, “I mean, what Mr. Kane is doing is scummy, but they’re not wrong. That girl hasn’t even graduated, right? No family connections, no career of her own… making a scene would only hurt her. What do you think…?” I nodded. “She won’t make a scene. In this day and age, everyone wants to be civilized.” Everything can be discussed calmly. Even divorce. Just then, Marcus put down his glass and spoke. “Yeah,” he said, “Sophie has nothing going for her but her youth. Compared to her, she’s not as sophisticated as Isabel.” “But Isabel has a proud streak. I don’t know how long she’ll be willing to put up with this. I’m starting to regret this marriage. Keeping a young girl on the side costs pennies compared to this. A divorce now would be a massive financial hit.” So, that was it. He was worried about the financial loss. After all, we were legally married. A divorce meant I would get half of his post-marital assets. Fine. I would give him what he wanted. I would walk away with nothing. But he would have to bear the consequences of my departure. 3 The party finally broke up. Isabel came and collected a very drunk Marcus. I watched from a distance as they embraced, their mouths locked together. Perhaps they had been holding back for too long. The moment they got into the car, it began to rock violently. I silently filmed the entire scene. Then, I called my brother. “Hey, little sis! What’s up? What’s got you calling me so late?” The sound of my brother’s voice touched the softest part of my heart. I couldn’t hold it in any longer. A single tear escaped, then another, until they were streaming down my face. “Kiddo, what’s wrong? Are you crying?” I was sobbing too hard to speak. My brother immediately asked where I was. I mumbled an address. Half an hour later, he was there. I was huddled on a curb, shivering. He took off his jacket, draped it over my shoulders, and sat quietly beside me. “Where’s Marcus?” “He’s cheating on me.” My brother froze, his jaw tightening. “Where is he? I’ll kill him.” I grabbed his hand and shook my head. “Don’t. It would only dirty your hands.” My brother stomped his foot on the ground in frustration, but it wasn’t enough to quell his anger. He asked me, “Are you going to divorce him?” I nodded without hesitation. “Is there any chance it’s a misunderstanding?” I showed him the videos and photos on my phone. I didn’t have to say a word. My brother had already made his decision. He immediately took out his phone and made several calls. The first was to his lawyer friend, asking him to draft a divorce agreement for me. The second was to all the suppliers connected to Marcus’s company. He instructed them to cancel any newly negotiated but unsigned contracts, not to renew any expiring ones, and to revoke all discounts on existing contracts, charging full market price from now on. After he finished his calls, my brother took my hand. “Come on, let’s go home.” I shook my head, tears still clinging to my eyelashes. “Before we go home, I want to move out.” My brother didn’t hesitate. He drove me to the house Marcus and I shared. It was a house Marcus had bought. I had no sentimental attachment to it. But I had lived there for three years, and I never thought I would leave like this. “If you want this house, I’ll get you the best lawyer to make sure you get it.” “No, brother. Anything that’s been touched by Marcus… it just feels dirty to me now.” 4 After moving out of the villa, I decided to wait for Marcus to contact me before I laid my cards on the table. Unfortunately, a week passed. He hadn’t even noticed I was gone. He would just send me a daily text: 【Working late again tonight. Don’t wait up.】 But in reality, I saw him and Isabel together every day. Jenna, after her “mistress” comment, was being targeted by our department manager. She was buried under a mountain of work. I couldn’t bear to see her suffer alone, so I stayed late with her every night. When we were working late, we could often hear the soft, decadent sounds that drifted from the CEO’s office. Jenna couldn’t help but complain. “Mr. Kane is so cheap. He won’t even spring for a hotel room.” I gave a wry, bitter smile. “Maybe doing it in the office… adds to the atmosphere.” Passing by, I couldn’t resist. I recorded a few of their more… explicit encounters on my phone. I had a feeling they might come in handy later. I spent the rest of my internship diligently working alongside Jenna. When it was finally over, she told me she wanted to stay on. “It’s hard to find a job out there. And even though I can’t stand Mr. Kane, a girl’s gotta eat.” I wished her luck. She asked me if I wanted to stay. I told her I just wanted to get my internship certificate and get as far away from this toxic place as possible. I never expected that at the last minute, I would be stabbed in the back by my own friend. I was the only intern in our group who didn’t receive a passing evaluation. I was furious. I demanded an explanation from my department head. He simply said it was Isabel’s decision. I thought Isabel must have found out who I was and was targeting me on purpose. I never imagined that Jenna would be the one to confess. “That day… I don’t know who overheard me call Isabel a ‘mistress.’ The word got out, and all this overtime we’ve been doing… it wasn’t from Mr. Davies. It was Isabel targeting us. I was a dead woman, but because you stayed with me and worked late every night, I…” Jenna was sobbing uncontrollably. “I really need this job. I’m not as pretty as you, or as smart as you. So I went to Isabel… and I told her that you were the one who called her a mistress.” “I thought… I thought she would just not offer you a job. I never thought she would refuse to even give you your internship certificate. It’s my fault… I’m so sorry…” I laughed. A laugh born of pure rage. Partly at my friend’s betrayal. But mostly at Isabel, for abusing her power for personal revenge. “It’s okay. I forgive you. Stop crying. Thank you for being my friend during this time. I wish you all the best in the future.” With that, I picked up the folder I had been preparing for a long time and turned to leave. Jenna grabbed my arm, her eyes full of pleading. “The thing with Isabel…” My voice was flat. “Don’t worry. I’ll take the blame for this.” Then, I lifted my head and shouted to the entire office. “She, Isabel Thorne, is a mistress! Why is that so unspeakable!” Instantly, everyone in the office froze, their heads swiveling towards me. Their eyes were wide with shock. And I, holding my failing internship report, marched straight into the conference room. At that moment, all the senior executives and department heads were in their morning meeting. My arrival was clearly unwelcome. The executives frowned, their faces showing their distaste for this impertinent young girl. It was true. In the three years I had been married to Marcus, not a single person in his company knew what Mrs. Kane looked like. Not even Isabel. In the entire room, only Marcus showed a flicker of surprise when he saw me. But he didn’t speak. It was Isabel, the meeting’s moderator, who spoke first. She tilted her head back, her beautiful, sophisticated face a mask of disdain and impatience. “What could possibly be so important that it has to be now?” I didn’t hold back. “Isabel, is it because I called you Mr. Kane’s mistress that you’re deliberately sabotaging me and refusing to issue my internship certificate?” The others in the room looked at Isabel, their expressions shifting to surprise. Isabel froze, likely shocked that a mere intern would be so bold. She narrowed her eyes. “So you know. Then why bother coming in here to ask?” Denying it was pointless. The rumors had already spread throughout the company. To shut people up, she had to make an example of someone. And in her eyes, I was the perfect sacrificial lamb. I met her gaze, my voice rising. “I’m sorry, Isabel. I shouldn’t have said you were Mr. Kane’s mistress!” Isabel’s face flushed with a hint of embarrassment, but she held her ground, crossing her arms and looking down her nose at me. “It’s too late for apologies now!” I looked at Marcus. His face was dark, clearly displeased. But what did he have to be displeased about? He was the one who had lost face first. I sneered. “Oh, it’s not too late. I’m going to set the record straight for you right now!” I pulled open the door behind me, my voice climbing higher and higher. “Of course Isabel isn’t Mr. Kane’s mistress! In the old days, to even be a concubine, you had to be formally brought into the family, you had to bow to me, the primary wife! A woman with no formal acknowledgement is just a side piece! She wouldn’t even be allowed in the family mausoleum!” My declaration made Isabel’s face turn shades of green and white. The others in the room finally realized who I was. As did Isabel. All eyes turned to Marcus. He was seething with rage. In our year of dating and three years of marriage… this was the first time I had ever seen him truly angry. “Have you made enough of a scene?!” How could it be enough? I wanted to be civilized, too. You people didn’t let me! “I have only one demand. Give me my internship certificate!” Marcus’s chest heaved with fury. He was still trying to defend Isabel. “Internship evaluations are determined by the department heads. You shouldn’t be coming to Isabel. You should be talking to your direct supervisor.” Isabel was visibly shaken, but hearing Marcus defend her gave her a sliver of courage. “Yes… that’s right. I’m just Mr. Kane’s assistant. I don’t have the authority to make decisions about interns.” What a pair of fakes. One more pathetic than the other. This was his company. Issuing an internship certificate was a matter of a single word from him. By saying this, he was making it clear that my feelings, my face, meant nothing to him. He was more concerned with protecting Isabel’s image in front of his employees. The moment he spoke, I understood. Marcus had never, not for a single moment, intended to be on my side. Fine. I met his eyes, and without a shred of hesitation, I said, “What if I trade my divorce agreement for it?” I pulled out the papers and laid them on the conference table. I added, “I’ll waive all claims to my share of his assets in exchange for that piece of paper. You’re not losing a thing.”

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The last male phoenix had fallen. Now, the survival of the flock rested on the females, who were forced to drink from the Birthing River to propagate their kind. But I, the one with the greatest potential to conceive an Ancient Phoenix of legend, turned my back on the River. Under the bewildered gazes of my people, I cast myself into the Abyss of Eternal Flame. In my previous life, I had poured my very essence, every drop of my life force, into nurturing the most noble of all phoenixes—a Golden Phoenix. But on the day of its presentation at the Sunstone Altar, it pierced my chest with a single, brutal claw, then flew into the arms of my stepsister, cooing and calling her “Mother.” My stepsister became the revered Phoenix Matron, destined to ascend to godhood, while I was branded a child-thief. My feathers were torn from my body, and I was thrown into the Abyss to burn alive. Even as I died, I couldn’t understand. The Golden Phoenix was my child. Why did it call another its mother? When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day I was to drink from the Birthing River. … The waters of the Birthing River flowed languidly before me. It wasn’t until my stepsister, Elara, called my name for the third time that the searing memory of being plucked bare and consumed by fire finally released its grip. “With your power, sister, I can only imagine what kind of phoenix you’ll bring forth! My guess… it will be the Golden Phoenix of old, the most noble of all!” Seeing Elara’s innocent, harmless smile sent a sudden, icy sweat down my spine. The agony of my last life—my child stolen, my name cursed, my body desecrated—was still terrifyingly vivid. With that thought searing my mind, I didn’t hesitate. I stood up and turned to leave. If drinking from this river meant birthing a child that would betray me, then I simply wouldn’t drink. Elara’s expression changed in an instant. She moved to block my path while shouting for the Matriarch. “Mother! Look at sister! What’s wrong with her? Why is she leaving?” The Matriarch appeared before me, her smile as warm and benevolent as ever, but the warmth never reached her eyes. “Lyra, my dear, don’t be willful. Every phoenix must drink from the River and bear young. It is the law of our flock. To defy it is to invite a curse upon yourself.” The current Matriarch of the Phoenix Flock was Elara’s mother—my stepmother, Morgana. My own mother, a magnificent Rainbow Phoenix, had been the previous Matriarch. She had fallen into dark sorcery and perished soon after I was born, leaving me to be raised by my stepmother. After my father’s passing, the few remaining male phoenixes had dwindled, one by one, until none were left. The law requiring the females to drink from the Birthing River had been established by the council of elders. Every one of us had sworn a blood oath: for the future of the flock, we would bear young, regardless of our own standing or power. Furthermore, only the one who birthed the most powerful fledgling would become the next Matriarch. Elara’s bloodline was diluted, her own power weak. She could drink the entire river dry and likely never produce a phoenix of any real note. But I was different. I was of pure lineage, my procreative essence the strongest among all the females of the flock. In my past life, my sole ambition had been to hatch the most powerful phoenix, to become Matriarch and repay Morgana for her years of kindness. Elara and I had drunk from the River at the same time, conceived at the same time, and laid our eggs at the same time. The ancient phoenix tome Morgana had given me said that by feeding the egg with one’s own heart’s blood and using a secret ritual, a Golden Phoenix could be born. I hadn’t suspected a thing. I did as I was told, draining my life force, enduring ten days of agonizing struggle, until finally, a rare and magnificent Golden Phoenix hatched from the shell. Weak and trembling, I carried the fledgling in my arms to the Sunstone Altar, ready to be declared the Phoenix Matron and inherit the title of Matriarch. But then, without warning, the creature in my arms lashed out, its sharp talons tearing through my chest. It then soared gracefully into Elara’s embrace, nuzzling against her and chirping, “Mother.” A fledgling’s bond with its birth mother is instinctual, absolute. No one would ever doubt the child was Elara’s. Elara stroked the Golden Phoenix’s head, her expression a mask of regret as she looked at me. “Sister, how could you be so cruel? To secretly switch my egg with your own! I want to honor the bond we share, but as the new Matriarch, I must uphold the law. You must be punished.” Her words, so seemingly righteous, painted me as a monster. The flock turned on me, their disgust palpable as they swarmed forward, tearing my feathers from my flesh. I lay bloodied on the altar, enduring the scorn of my people. “Disgusting! After all the Matriarch has done for her, she steals another’s child! She has no shame!” “Whoever said Lyra was powerful must be blind. Elara birthed a Golden Phoenix! Her essence is clearly stronger. Lyra was just jealous, she stole it! She’s as vile as her corrupted mother. She should be cast out of the Phoenix Vale!” On the day of Elara’s ascension, I was thrown out, barely clinging to life. As I struggled to my feet, someone seized me and hurled me into the Abyss of Eternal Flame to be burned alive. Even in death, I never understood how Elara had managed to steal my child. Now, looking at the mother and daughter duo frantically trying to stop me from leaving, a plan began to form in my mind. “I just feel a bit unwell,” I said, feigning weakness. “I want to go back and rest. I’ll come back another time.” My stepmother let out a sigh of relief. “Then I’ll have your sister accompany you. You can come back and drink together next time.” I frowned. There were many other phoenixes by the riverbank, drinking the water and birthing perfectly normal fledglings. The river was constantly flowing; the water itself wasn’t the problem. Could it be the timing? Was I not supposed to drink at the same time as Elara? Morgana had been Matriarch for many years; she likely knew secrets of our people that I did not. Perhaps if Elara and I drank together, we were breaking some ancient taboo. “No need,” I said, forcing a smile. “I think I’m feeling better now.” Elara and I went to the river’s edge. I watched as she drank first. Then, shielding my mouth with my sleeve, I pretended to drink, but secretly collected some of the water in a flask to take with me. If the heavens were giving me a second chance, I would not overlook a single detail this time. Back in my chambers, just as in my previous life, my stepmother brought me a collection of potent herbs and that same secret tome on incubation. I accepted them with a smile, but as soon as I was alone, I summoned a brazier and burned them all to ash. I had once believed my stepmother to be the kindest of souls. She always treated me better than her own daughter. Growing up, every rare treasure, every potent artifact, was given to me first. When Elara looked on with envy, I, loving my sister, would share them with her. This always sent my stepmother into a rage, and she would harshly scold Elara. The entire flock praised her for her selflessness. They trusted her completely. And I… I had truly thought of her as my own mother. When she was injured gathering herbs, I, though just a child, had recklessly thrown myself into danger to protect her. I had treated Elara like my own flesh and blood, depleting my own life force time and again to help her advance her power. Only after my first life did I understand. Everything my stepmother had done was simply to pave the way for her own daughter. In their eyes, I was nothing but a vessel. A tool for birthing a legendary phoenix. So, even though I hadn’t figured out the exact nature of the deception, I wouldn’t so much as glance at that tome again. I drank the water from the Birthing River and quietly waited for the changes in my body. The same strange sensation of life coalescing within me returned. I could feel the water flow to my womb, emitting a warm, white glow. This time, I didn’t expend any extra life force, nor did I take any of the herbs meant to strengthen the conception. I let go of my obsession with birthing a Golden Phoenix. Soon, my belly swelled slightly, and I laid a pure white, unadorned egg. I didn’t rush to incubate it. Instead, under the cover of night, I snuck into the flock’s forbidden sanctuary. This was the place where my mother had once lived. After she fell to dark sorcery, the flock deemed it cursed and forbade anyone from entering. My memories of my mother were a complete blank. From a young age, Morgana had told me that my mother was beautiful but restless, that she had abandoned me as a child to run away with a demon lord. My father’s attitude toward me had always been distant. Only Morgana had showered me with unconditional love. So, for my entire life, I had avoided thinking about my real mother, trying to be Morgana’s daughter instead. But the truth was becoming clear: the past was not as Morgana had described it. There wasn’t much left in my mother’s sanctuary, but every single item was connected to me. My childhood toys, my favorite snacks, even the small nest I had slept in as a fledgling. My eyes stung. How could my mother not have loved me? There had to be more to the story. Among a pile of old books, I found an incubation manual. Back in my room, I followed my mother’s instructions. From the egg hatched not a simple phoenix, but a Rainbow Phoenix! Rainbow Phoenixes were even rarer than the Golden ones. And my little Rainbow Phoenix was incredibly powerful; its future would be extraordinary. My own mother had been a Rainbow Phoenix. They were known to be gentler, more intelligent and understanding than the proud, arrogant Golden Phoenixes. This would be a child who was truly mine. My heart swelled with joy. After all my efforts, this child would belong to me and me alone. The Matriarch’s seat was within my grasp! Cradling the still-unopened eyes of my fledgling, I headed for the Sunstone Altar. On the way, I overheard the others talking. “Did you hear? Someone stole Elara’s fledgling!” I stopped dead in my tracks. “Elara’s bloodline is weak. She couldn’t have birthed anything special. Who would steal from her? If anyone’s child was worth stealing, it would be Lyra’s. Her essence is so strong, she might have actually hatched a Golden Phoenix!” “And get this, Elara is going around claiming she hatched a Rainbow Phoenix! That’s hilarious. Rainbow Phoenixes are even rarer than Golden ones!” A cold dread washed over me. Elara’s egg had also hatched a Rainbow Phoenix? This couldn’t be a coincidence. The gossiping flock members saw me and rushed over, their faces alight with curiosity. “Lyra! Has your egg hatched yet? What kind of phoenix is it?” In the distance, I saw Morgana, supporting a distraught Elara, searching frantically. Her eyes lit up when she saw me. I ignored everyone, turned, and ran. I bolted back to my chambers and barred the door. My heart hammered against my ribs. I had to know if the fledgling would recognize me as its mother. I drew a drop of my heart’s blood and let it fall onto the fledgling’s closed eyelids. The little Rainbow Phoenix opened its eyes. It looked at me with no emotion whatsoever. Then, Elara’s voice came from outside my door.

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The video of me slapping the hottest starlet of the moment went viral. Her fans swarmed my socials, calling for my blood, while the rest of the internet grabbed their popcorn. 【Charlotte is a dead woman walking. Everyone knows Stella is dating the Astor heir. She’s going to be blacklisted into oblivion!】 Three days later, the Astor heir himself showed up at my reality show’s set. Everyone watched, salivating for the drama, only to see the golden boy of New York society drop to his knees in front of me. “Mom, I’m so sorry!” 1 I hesitated when the producers of Second Act first approached me. It’s not like I needed the money or was desperate for a comeback. The show didn’t offer me much. That is, until I saw a clip from last season where one of the contestants lost twenty pounds. At forty-five, with a metabolism that had long since clocked out, the battle of the bulge was a daily struggle. My eyes lit up. I slapped my thigh. “I’m in!” 2 Once filming started, I was practically invisible. Among the thirty contestants, or “sisters” as they called us, I was far from the most famous. My career highlight had been a few memorable villain roles years ago—the kind of actress you recognize but can’t name. I never monetized my private life, kept my family background under wraps, and had zero interest in sucking up to the production team. Naturally, no investor was lining up to back me. I didn’t care. I was just there for a celebrity weight-loss camp, after all. I threw myself into training, preparing for each performance with professional diligence, and made a point to stay out of everyone’s way. But trouble, it seemed, had a way of finding me. 3 Her name was Stella. She was the youngest and, by far, the most popular star on the show. At only twenty-three, she didn’t exactly fit the “sister” concept, but the network was determined to help her transition from a cutesy pop-tart persona to something more mature. The show had already boosted her fame, making her the main draw for viewers. But it wasn’t enough for her. She wanted to build a new image—the “fearless, independent woman of the new millennium”—and for that, she needed a foil. A punching bag. She chose me. For our second performance, she picked me for her group and immediately started her campaign of micro-aggressions. During rehearsal, I’d be the first to arrive, yet she’d sigh dramatically and say, “Charlotte, I know you’re on the show, but could you please try to think about something other than your husband and kids for a few hours?” I just stared at her. What the hell? I hadn’t so much as mentioned my husband or son since filming began. Later, at dinner, I’d be picking at a plate of grilled chicken breast, and she’d frown with theatrical concern. “I know pregnancy and childbirth can be tough on a woman’s body, Charlotte, but you can’t just let yourself go!” Again, what the hell? I had abs under my shirt and legs for days—longer than hers, thank you very much. I just didn’t feel the need to flaunt them. Then, during a group chat about the industry, she deliberately singled me out. “You quit showbiz for a man, didn’t you, Charlotte? I could never do that. My life is my own.” I just bit my tongue. Get your facts straight before you run your mouth, kid. My acting career was always a side gig. I left to get my doctorate in the States. I was utterly baffled by her. I tried to ignore her, writing it off as childish nonsense, but she only grew more audacious. One night, over dinner, the contestants were discussing whose life they envied the most. Stella suddenly spoke up. “I don’t envy anyone. But the one person I would never want to be is Charlotte. Such a failure, no sense of self. If I were her parents, I’d regret ever having her!” That did it. She had finally poked the bear. She could insult me all she wanted, but she never should have brought up my parents, who had passed away years ago. I was done being patient. I raised my hand. SMACK! The slap echoed through the room. 4 When the episode aired, the clip of me slapping Stella blew up online and shot to the top of the trending topics. The production team, clearly in Stella’s camp, had edited the footage to make her look like a saint. A shot of me in the hallway practicing a rap verse was deceitfully framed as me video-chatting with my family. They spliced my first day’s clumsy dance practice into the final week’s montage to make it look like I’d made zero progress. My singing was auto-tuned in reverse, making me sound painfully off-key. Their goal was clear: to paint me as the lazy, family-obsessed housewife—the most despised archetype for a female celebrity today. The internet unleashed its fury. 【If Charlotte wants to be a housewife so badly, she should just stay home! Why is she wasting our time on the show?】 【Seriously, I can’t stand these slackers who take the money and do nothing. Get her off my screen!】 【I used to like some of her old roles, but now I see what a failure of a woman she really is. So pathetic!】 Meanwhile, Stella was edited to look like a responsible, long-suffering group leader, earning her a massive wave of sympathy and new fans. When the slap scene aired, they conveniently cut out her vicious comment about my parents, making it seem like I’d lashed out simply because I couldn’t handle her constructive criticism. Stella’s fans went ballistic, plastering my face on mock-up funeral photos and cursing my entire family tree. The general public was just as outraged. 【Charlotte went way too far. Is she bullying a junior just because she’s a veteran? Stella was just trying to help her.】 【Old hags like her are always so entitled. She needs to get out of the industry for good!】 【Oh, she won’t be in the industry for long, trust me. Have you all forgotten who Stella’s boyfriend is? Julian Astor! The Astor heir. She’s messing with him now. She’s finished.】 I’d been scrolling through the comments with bored detachment, but that last one made me pause. Wait, what? My son has a girlfriend? Since when? 5 Just in case it was some misunderstanding, I did a quick search for my darling son’s name: Julian Astor. I shouldn’t have. What I found was a digital tabloid shrine dedicated to his romantic escapades. 【Astor Heir Drops Millions to Win a Starlet’s Smile】 【Julian Astor Buys Film Studio on a Whim to Promote His New Flame】 【Rival Actresses Brawl Over Billionaire Scion Julian Astor】 The best part? The male lead was always Julian, but the female lead changed with every headline. And the latest piece of gossip featured none other than Stella. A paparazzi photo showed them holding hands while shopping, under the headline: 【New York’s Golden Boy Steps Out with It-Girl Stella, Drops $200k on Handbags in a Single Day】 I nearly fainted from rage. So this was why my brilliant son had refused to study abroad, why he’d shown no interest in learning the ropes of the family business. He was too busy gallivanting around town, collecting celebrity girlfriends! I may have been an actress once, but now I was a retired businesswoman, fully occupied with managing family assets and my own fitness regimen. I rarely paid attention to celebrity gossip. This was the first I was hearing of my son’s… extracurricular activities. Fuming, I shot him a text. 【You have a girlfriend and you didn’t tell your mother?】 The little brat replied almost instantly. 【Which one?】 He must have realized how insane that sounded because he deleted the message a second later and sent a new one. 【Oh, you mean Stella? Yeah, we’re dating. I was actually planning to bring her to meet you in a few days.】 His casual tone told me he had no idea his new girlfriend had just been on the receiving end of a slap from his own mother. Nor did he know that her fans were currently roasting me, him, and our entire lineage online. But that figured. My son loved being the subject of gossip; he had no interest in reading about anyone else. I was about to type back, No need, we’ve already met, when a sharp voice cut through the air. “Charlotte, would you please put down your phone? Stop texting your husband and son for five minutes and focus on the rehearsal!” 6 I looked up to see Stella, her arms crossed. Ever since the slap, her hostility had become a constant, simmering presence. She looked for any excuse to pick a fight. Like now. We were on a break. The other contestants were chatting and on their phones too, but she singled me out. A cold smile touched my lips. “And who are you to talk, Stella? You spend more time glued to your phone than anyone here.” It was the truth. Stella was the one constantly texting and disappearing for hours-long, syrupy-sweet video calls. I’d always assumed she was dating some young heartthrob. I never imagined it was my son. Stella’s face darkened. Before she could retort, one of her little followers chimed in. “You can’t compare, Charlotte,” said Vicky, a lesser-known actress who served as Stella’s sidekick. Her voice dripped with condescension. “Stella is talking to Julian Astor. Do you even know who that is? He’s the Astor heir!” I had to bite back a laugh. The little brat who came out of my own body? Yeah, I think I know who he is. At the mention of Julian’s name, a smug, triumphant smile tugged at Stella’s lips, though she tried to feign modesty. “Vicky, stop. I’ve told Julian I want to keep our relationship low-key.” “Oh, Stella, you’re just too humble!” Vicky gushed. “But how can you be low-key when he’s so crazy about you? When he marries you, I bet he’ll throw you the wedding of the century!” The word “wedding” made Stella’s smile widen uncontrollably. But I, standing off to the side, couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. “Getting a little ahead of yourselves, aren’t you?” I asked, my tone laced with amusement. “Have you even met his parents?” You haven’t even met me, and you’re already planning on marrying into the Astor family? Over my dead body. My question made Stella’s face fall. “What’s that supposed to mean, Charlotte?” she snapped. “So what if I haven’t met his parents yet? He told me he’s taking me to meet his mother very soon!” That announcement captured the attention of every woman in the room. Even the A-listers, who had previously ignored our little feud, couldn’t help but look over. “For real?” Vicky gasped, her hand flying to her mouth in exaggerated shock. “He’s taking you to meet his mother? Oh my God, I heard she’s the legendary heiress of the Astor family, one of the most powerful women in New York! Is it true?” “Yes, yes!” another contestant chimed in, leaning closer. “I’ve heard the stories about Julian’s mom too. She’s incredibly private. No one’s ever gotten a picture of her face, and nobody even knows her full name. Just that she’s the ultimate blue-blooded beauty!” Stella’s chin lifted with pride as she adopted the tone of a seasoned insider. “Of course. Julian told me all about her. She’s the only daughter of the Astor family, a true New York princess in her day. And not just that—while the Astor Corporation has a board of professional managers, she’s the one who really calls the shots. She isn’t just a pretty face with a trust fund; she’s brilliant. A PhD in Finance from an Ivy League school. She made a killing on Wall Street before coming home to take over the family empire. She’s a true icon for women.” A chorus of envious sighs filled the room. I felt a blush creep up my neck. I had no idea Stella held me in such high regard. It almost made me feel bad for slapping her. She was still going. “Basically, Julian’s mom is my idol. She is, without a doubt, the most perfect woman in the world!” This was getting to be too much, even for me. I couldn’t help but clear my throat and mutter, “Well, it’s not that dramatic.”

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In my past life, my sister and my fiancée joined forces with my best friend to destroy my company. As I collapsed in the pouring rain, bankrupt and broken, they stood by his side, laughing without restraint. “Look at you, Landon,” they sneered. “You’re like a pathetic stray dog.” When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the project bidding conference, three years in the past. Back then, when my company was just a startup, my sister and fiancée had warned me not to leverage our family connections. It wouldn’t be fair to the others, they said. Then, they turned around and handed the project to my best friend on a silver platter, all for the price of a smile. Reborn, I watched them manipulate things behind the scenes, just as they had before, to gift my project to him. And in that moment, the last vestiges of hope in my heart died. When they found out I was leaving the country, they set off a night’s worth of fireworks to celebrate finally being rid of me, the burden. But three years later, at the Aethel Group’s bidding conference, I walked onto the stage as the CEO’s husband. And as I began to speak, I saw their eyes turn red. 1 I never expected the first familiar face I’d see after returning to Sterling City would be my former best friend, Cole Evans. “Cole Evans, CEO of Zenith Corp. At eighteen, he entered Sterling City’s top university with outstanding grades. After graduating, he built his company from scratch, becoming one of the business world’s rising stars in just three short years…” On the first floor of the Sterling Grand Tower, a screen between the two elevator banks looped a highlight reel of his achievements. Three years had changed him. The timid, insecure boy from the countryside was gone, replaced by a man exuding a certain aristocratic air in his custom-tailored suit. Money, it seems, can truly mold a man. Today was the Aethel Group’s project bidding conference. The lobby was already swarming with reporters. I tried to ignore him, to mind my own business, but he approached me. “Landon? Is that really you? I almost didn’t recognize you.” “You suddenly left for overseas three years ago. I thought you were never coming back!” Cole’s voice was loud, loud enough for the reporters gathered in the distance to hear every word. I could feel their inquisitive gazes landing on me. “…Holt family… heir…” “…Ziegler engagement… Ivy…” “…Proposing… win her back… no…” Fragmented whispers, deliberately lowered, drifted into my ears. I glanced at Cole. He feigned ignorance, continuing, “Why didn’t you give a heads-up you were coming back? Could it be that you heard…” He cut himself off, feigning a slip of the tongue. “Landon, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” His panicked apology was a masterclass in misdirection, expertly guiding the onlookers to the wrong conclusion. A bold reporter was already shouting a question. “Mr. Evans, we hear that both Sierra Holt, the chief designer at Holt Jewels, and Ivy Ziegler, the Ziegler family heiress, are planning to propose to you. Is this true?” “Mr. Evans, if Miss Holt and Miss Ziegler both propose, who will you choose?” Cole dodged the question. “Ah… those are just online rumors for now. I hope everyone can be rational. Besides, Sierra and Ivy are both wonderful people. We’re just very good friends.” The elevator arrived. He gave a slight bow. “My apologies, but I have to give a speech at the Aethel Group’s conference. I need to go up and prepare.” He then turned to me with a friendly smile. “Landon, are you heading up?” I hesitated for only a second, and that was all it took. The reporters, getting no answers from Cole, turned their sights on me. “Mr. Holt, we heard you were pursuing Miss Ziegler before you went abroad. Did you come back because you heard she was planning to propose to Mr. Evans?” “We hear Miss Holt is your sister. Mr. Holt, would you be okay with Mr. Evans becoming your brother-in-law?” “If Miss Ziegler really does propose to Mr. Evans, what will you do? Will you try to stop it, or will you offer your blessing?” Their eyes were like those of starving wolves, their quickened breaths filled with greed and urgency. Reporters rarely care about the truth; they only care about the story. I knew if I didn’t respond, the internet would be flooded with speculation about my return within the hour. An image of a certain someone who got jealous easily flashed through my mind. I waved a dismissive hand at Cole. “In that case, I’ll go on ahead.” Just before the elevator doors closed, Cole’s lips curved into a sneer that only I could see. I looked away, turning to face the reporters. I was about to pull out my invitation when a sharp voice cut through the air. “Landon Holt, who let you come here?” “Are you planning to steal Cole’s project again, just like you did three years ago?” The cameras swiveled. My ex-fiancée, Ivy Ziegler, was striding toward me, her long legs accentuated by a tight miniskirt, her face a mask of fury. 2 “Three years ago, and now again.” “Landon, will you ever stop?” I frowned at Ivy’s accusation. “What are you talking about?” The woman who had once promised me a lifetime together now looked at me with pure disgust. “Everyone in Sterling City knows Aethel Group wants to work with Cole on this. Why else would you suddenly come back from overseas if not to steal his project?” Aethel Group wanted to work with Cole? That was news to me. My eyes flickered with surprise, which Ivy mistook for guilt. The disgust in her eyes was now tinged with contempt. “Do you think you can still use the Holt family name to bully Cole whenever you want?” “Aethel Group isn’t some small-time local company. They don’t care about your family background. If you don’t want to humiliate yourself, you should leave. Now.” I pulled out my invitation and waved it in her face. “Sorry, but I was invited to this conference. You have no right to tell me to leave.” “Don’t push your luck…” Ivy was about to threaten me when the reporters’ whispers seemed to spark a realization. Her expression shifted to one of utter disdain. “Landon, I told you, our engagement is over. Can you please stop harassing me? Whatever happens between me and Cole, it has nothing to do with you. We are never getting back together.” “You’re overthinking it. I’m only here for the conference. I’m married now. I’m not interested in who you end up with.” I didn’t lower my voice. The explanation was less for Ivy and more for the reporters. The crowd quieted, but Ivy just scoffed. “Landon, is this really necessary? Do you think lying about being married will make me anxious? Let me tell you, playing hard to get won’t work. I couldn’t care less if you’re married or not.” “I know.” I nodded and stepped into the newly arrived elevator. As long as the press didn’t print lies, I didn’t care what Ivy believed. Just as the doors were closing, she slipped in beside me. The doors shut, sealing us in the small space. “Alright, what will it take for you to leave?” she asked, her face grim. A ghost of a smile played on my lips. “You have that little faith in Cole?” “How could you possibly compare to him?” she sneered. “After Cole signs with Aethel, I’m going to propose to him, right here. I’m afraid he’ll get the wrong idea if you’re around.” I replied with four, emotionless words. “Congratulations.” “Can you just stop this? I know you’re jealous, but you can’t force feelings. This act is not good for either of us.” Her voice was tired, with a hint of condescension, as if she were doing me a favor. “Look, if you leave right now, I’ll personally see to it that Ziegler Corp gives you two projects.” I shook my head coolly. “I don’t need them.” Her tone soured. “I just don’t want Cole to be upset. You should take the offer while you can. Otherwise, you might end up with nothing.” I didn’t respond to anything else she said. By the time the elevator doors opened, her face was flushed with anger. She stormed out, tossing a final command to the woman waiting by the door before stalking off on her high heels. “Control your brother.” I looked at the woman—my own sister, Sierra—and cursed my luck. I had planned to ignore her, but as I stepped out of the elevator, she grabbed my arm. Sierra dragged me to a secluded corner, her eyes cold. “What are you doing here?” “Bidding,” I said flatly. “Nonsense. Go home, now,” she snapped. “Are you planning to steal Cole’s project again, just like three years ago?” 3 Sierra’s words were almost identical to Ivy’s. I looked up at the person who was supposed to be my closest living relative and felt a bitter irony. That project three years ago was a joint venture between the Holt and Ziegler corporations. It wasn’t large, but for a startup, it was a golden opportunity. Thinking I had an inside track, I went to Sierra to ask for it. She shot me down immediately. When Ivy heard, she came and gave me an earful. They said it wasn’t fair to the small, self-made companies. I didn’t understand. Business is about resource integration. I had the ability to complete the project, and I had the connections. Why couldn’t I use them? Later, I found out why. It was for Cole, who was also competing for the same project. One moment, Sierra and Ivy were warning me off; the next, they were dispatching their own professional teams to help Cole perfect his proposal. When I was on the verge of winning by a single vote, they personally joined the review panel and cast their votes for him, handing him the victory. When I confronted them, they were full of self-righteous justifications. “Can’t you have some empathy? You have the Holt and Ziegler corporations to fall back on, but Cole has no choice but to succeed. Since we’re in a position to help, of course we should.” In my past life, I hadn’t accepted it. I exposed them publicly, causing Cole to lose the bid. I continued to oppose him at every turn. To get back at me for him, Sierra and Ivy joined forces to attack my company, driving me to bankruptcy even before Cole. As I was cornered by debt collectors, with nowhere to turn, the two people who should have been my closest allies stood by Cole’s side, mocking my pathetic state. I lost consciousness in the pouring rain. When I woke up, I was back at that bidding conference, three years earlier. Watching Sierra and Ivy join the panel at the last minute to cheat for Cole, just like before, my heart died completely. I liquidated my company. The night they threw a celebration party for Cole, I boarded a plane and left the country alone. In three years, they never contacted me once. Yet the moment I returned, they were on guard, terrified I would harm their precious darling. Even with the memories of two lifetimes, a dull ache spread through my chest. I looked at Sierra with reddened eyes and repeated the same words she’d used on me three years ago, before that first conference. “I’m not participating in this bid as a member of the Holt family. You have no right to make me leave.” I shook her off and turned to go. But two bodyguards suddenly appeared and blocked my path. I turned back to Sierra. Her expression was placid. “If Cole wins this project, his company can go public at least two years ahead of schedule. I can’t let you ruin his chance.” If a company’s representative doesn’t show up, they automatically forfeit the bid. She had supported Cole for three years, yet she still had no faith in his abilities. She still had to resort to cheating to help him. And this was the man who had caused my two closest relatives to betray me, time and time again. I wanted to laugh, but it felt too tragic. I wanted to ask Sierra what she even saw in him, but the thought was tasteless. A lifetime of death stood between us. There was no possibility of reconciliation. “Sierra, do you really think these two can stop me?” Her brow furrowed. “What did you call me?” “Hah.” I gave a short, sharp laugh and turned toward the bodyguards. “Stop him,” Sierra commanded. The two muscular guards lunged at me. As their hands reached for my shoulders, I lunged forward, arching my back as my hands shot out, fingertips aimed for their exposed armpits. They quickly changed their tactic, pressing down, but I drew my hands back to my chest, straightened my back, and used the momentum to lean forward, driving my elbows into their chests. Thump, thump! The guards staggered back. I moved behind them, and before they could regain their footing, I struck each of them in the back, creating distance as they stumbled. Our positions were now reversed. As the two guards steadied themselves and prepared to charge again, I took a step back, positioning myself in full view of a security camera. “Stop!” Sierra quickly called them off, her expression a complex mix of emotions. “When did you become so strong?” I gave her a silent look and walked toward the conference hall. Yes, when? Life abroad was much more dangerous than at home. I was getting robbed several times a month, far more than the average person. If I hadn’t learned to defend myself, I would have been dead long ago.

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1 After his first love died, Anton hated me for ten years. I tried everything to win his affection, but all I ever got was a cold sneer. “If you really want to make me happy, Grace,” he’d say, “why don’t you just die?” His words were a knife in my heart, yet when the burning rafters of our home came crashing down, he died saving me. He lay in my arms, and with the last of his strength, he pushed my hand away. “Grace,” he whispered, his voice a ghost of a breath. “If only I had never met you…” At his funeral, his mother’s sobs were accusations. “Anton, my boy, it’s all my fault. I never should have forced you to marry her. If I had just let you be with Evelyn, would things have been different today?” His father’s glare was full of venom. “He saved your life three times. Why do you only bring him disaster? Why wasn’t it you who died?” Everyone, including me, regretted our marriage. In the end, I went to the top of Starlight Point, the place where lovers make wishes, and threw myself from the edge. I woke up ten years in the past. This time, I would sever all ties with Anton. This time, I would give everyone the ending they wanted. 2 “You’ve really outdone yourself, Grace. Using your parents’ dying wish to force my family’s hand. Making them pressure me into marrying you. Do you really think this will make you happy?” The voice was deep and cold, a ghost from a past I thought was gone. I blinked, my vision clearing, and stared at Anton. He stood before me, young and defiant in a sharp, tailored suit, a world away from the broken man he would become. This was eighteen-year-old Anton. I had really gone back. Suppressing the knot of grief in my throat, I drank in the sight of him, alive and whole. “You don’t want to marry me because the one you truly love is Evelyn. Isn’t that right?” Anton let out a bitter laugh. “What if it is? Are you going to step aside?” “Yes,” I said, my voice firm. My parents had been national heroes, diplomats who died in a bombing overseas. In recognition of their sacrifice, the government had granted me a special boon—a state-sanctioned marriage contract, blank and waiting for a name. I could marry anyone I chose. Or, I could use it to arrange a marriage for someone else. He stared at me, then a cynical smile twisted his lips. “You used the contract to pressure me. My parents are forcing me. Our marriage is a done deal. How exactly are you going to ‘step aside’ now?” “Grace, I don’t have time to play your games. Go back to the registrar’s office and file the damn contract. I’ll wait for you here.” He turned away, leaning against the cold stone wall of the government building, the disgust in his eyes a physical blow. For two lifetimes, I had loved Anton. He had saved my life twice, acts of reckless bravery that I mistook for secret affection. I had naively used my parents’ legacy to marry him, only to learn too late that his heart belonged to another. My decade of love had been his decade of torment. In my past life, I had spent years performing acts of charity, bartering my own life force in mystical rites, all to earn him a chance at rebirth. Before the end, a spiritual guide had warned me, “Within twelve hours of his second chance, you must resolve his three greatest regrets. Once it is done, you must leave immediately.” “From then on, your paths will diverge. He will no longer be fated to die at thirty. You will both find your own destinies.” “But rebirth always has a price, my child. Be certain you are willing to pay it.” As long as Anton could live, I was willing to pay any price. I went back inside and amended the contract, formally requesting the union of Anton McGaw and Evelyn Lin. I knew his three regrets. He had written them in his private journal. Regret not fighting my parents’ arrangement. Regret marrying Grace. Regret not being able to save Evelyn. Now, his first regret was fulfilled. I walked out with the official document and handed it to him. He looked at me with contempt, as if I were a predator who had finally cornered her prey. He reached to open it. I placed a hand over his. “Wait until tomorrow,” I said, offering a gentle smile. “It’ll be a surprise.” He glanced at me, his voice laced with scorn. “Pathetic. Today, tomorrow—it’s still a marriage to you, isn’t it? What’s wrong with you today? Are you that deliriously happy you finally trapped me?” I was happy. Because I was finally seeing you alive again. I smiled. “I think you’re the best person in the world. Anyone who marries you will be incredibly happy.” “Let’s go,” he snapped, turning away. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought he was blushing. On the ride back to his family’s estate, the car passed a street bustling with nightlife. I overheard a group of girls talking excitedly. “Tonight’s the Perseid meteor shower! They say if a couple watches it together from Starlight Point, they’ll be soulmates for three lifetimes!” A memory pierced through me. In my past life, I had heard the same thing and eagerly begged Anton to take me. He had looked at me with that chilling, mocking expression. “Isn’t one lifetime of you enough? Now you want to haunt me for three?” “It’s a stupid superstition, a ridiculous fairytale for fools. If you want to believe it, fine, but leave me out of it.” Even now, the memory of his cold eyes made me shiver. I quietly closed the car’s privacy screen. But this time, Anton spoke, his tone unexpectedly neutral. “You want to go?” “I can take you to Starlight Point tonight. It can be my apology for not being able to attend the memorial for your parents after the wedding.” I looked up at him, surprised. It was both unexpected and completely in character. Anton had always been like this—a cruel tongue hiding a soft heart. He didn’t love me, but he had still risked his life for me three times. The first, when I was attacked by muggers, he took a knife to his right arm protecting me. The hand that was once skilled enough to hit a target a hundred yards away could never hold a bow again. The second, when I contracted a deadly virus, he climbed a treacherous cliff face to find a rare herb to save my life, nearly breaking his leg in the process. The third, during a fire at the embassy, he died saving me. Anton was perfect in every way. He just didn’t love me. I knew that after today, we would have no future together. Even if we watched the meteor shower from Starlight Point, the legend wouldn’t apply to us. Still, I suppressed the hot tears welling in my eyes and gave him a smile so bright it felt cheap. “Okay. Let’s go see the meteors together.” 3 Halfway there, our car was stopped. It was Evelyn’s personal assistant. She said Evelyn was suffering from a terrible migraine and wanted to see Anton. He frowned at the news and immediately got out of the car. “Evelyn’s not well. I have to go see her. You go back to the estate. I’ll meet you at Starlight Point tonight.” I nodded. “Okay.” He looked at me, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. “You used to hate it when I went to see her. What’s changed?” I opened my mouth, but he cut me off with another sneer. “Right. We’re about to be married. I guess she’s not a threat to you anymore.” He walked away, never seeing the desolate smile on my face. I never tried to stop him from caring for Evelyn. I only intervened once, when I discovered she was having an affair with a married government official. I tried desperately to keep Anton away from her, to protect him from the inevitable scandal. But he never knew. After she died, he grieved her loss for a decade. If I had to choose, I would rather see him with her and happy, than see him tormented and dying for me. My first stop was the passport office to arrange my travel documents. Then, I returned to the McGaw estate. Mrs. McGaw had prepared a feast, a table laden with all my favorite dishes. As I always did, I took off my white fur-trimmed coat and draped it over her shoulders. “It’s cold, Amelia. You need to take care of yourself.” She beamed at me, her face alight with joy. “Grace, you’re always so thoughtful. Quick, let me see the marriage contract! I’ve waited so long to finally call you my daughter.” Mr. McGaw, noticing I was alone, bristled with anger. “That boy didn’t come back with you again? The contract is finalized, and he still doesn’t know how to cherish you? When he gets home, I’ll give him a piece of my mind!” Their genuine affection was a bittersweet ache in my chest. They had raised me after my own parents died, giving me a home, giving me their love. I had always been the dutiful, obedient daughter. But this time, I had to betray their hopes. I looked at them, my voice heavy. “Arthur, Amelia… I’m not marrying Anton.” “I’m leaving for the coast tomorrow. I won’t be here to look after you anymore, so you must promise to take good care of each other.” Amelia stared, her smile faltering. “Your parents died serving this country. You grew up here. This estate is your home. Where would you go?” Her eyes filled with alarm. “Is it because of that Lin girl? Did Anton hurt you? Is that why you’re calling off the wedding?” “Don’t do this, Grace. He has feelings for you, I know he does. He risked his life for you twice! Every year for your birthday, he spends months searching for the perfect gift. I know you love him too. You learned to cook for him, you massage his hand every night to ease the pain. You would be so happy together!” “Besides, that Lin girl is trouble. We can’t let her win. Please, don’t leave out of anger.” In my past life, they had said the same things. In the end, I lost my husband, and they lost their son. We all lived with a lifetime of regret. I gently wiped a tear from her cheek. “Amelia, you can’t force love. Anton’s heart belongs to someone else. It’s wrong of me to force him to marry me.” “Last night, I had a dream. I dreamt that he and I were married. But he wouldn’t see me. He worked himself to the bone, driving his body into the ground. He wouldn’t eat the food I made for him, wouldn’t let me care for him when he was sick. He told me that the pain I brought him was greater than any happiness. He even… he even died at thirty, saving my life.” The words were a physical pain, making it hard to breathe. Amelia was stunned. “But… that’s just a dream, Grace. Anton wouldn’t…” I sniffled, forcing a smile. “Dreams can be warnings, Amelia. I want him to live a long life. It’s better that we’re not husband and wife.” “He’s a man of privilege, but he’s never truly been free to make his own choices. At the very least, he should be able to choose who he marries.” I knelt before them and bowed my head to the floor three times. “My travel papers are ready. Please, grant me this one wish. I will never forget your kindness. I will repay it for the rest of my life.” Arthur’s lips thinned. He helped me to my feet. Amelia, wiping her tears, pressed a thick stack of bills into my hand. “If this is what you’ve decided, then I will respect your choice. But remember, no matter what happens, this will always be your home.” My own tears finally fell, and I hugged her tightly. “Thank you, Amelia.” By cutting my ties with Anton, the tragedy of our past life would never happen. He would live a long life. His parents wouldn’t lose their son and grow to hate me. This time, everyone would have a happy ending. The second of his regrets was fulfilled. Now, only one remained. That evening, I went to Starlight Point. The scenic overlook was crowded with couples, all there to wish for a shared destiny. “Grace.” A familiar voice cut through the crowd. I turned, my heart leaping, only to see Anton’s thunderous expression. He grabbed my wrist, his eyes blazing with a furious, crimson light. “You know how much I despise people who abuse their power. I didn’t escort you home, so you ran to my parents and tattled, making them humiliate Evelyn. She tried to kill herself, Grace. She took poison. Are you satisfied now?”

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