Category: English

From the moment I can remember, I knew we were poor. So when I suspected I was seriously ill, my first thought wasn’t fear. It was to ask my parents, my voice barely a whisper, “What if… what if I got cancer?” They laughed and told me not to imagine such things, but their tone was unshakeably firm. “If that day ever comes, we’ll sell everything we own to get you treated.” I tossed and turned all night, and by morning, my mind was made up. I couldn’t be their ruin. But after I swallowed a full bottle of sleeping pills, I “saw” them. They were in a luxury penthouse downtown, laughing and chatting. In that moment, I finally understood. The years of hardship that had forced me to be so desperately “sensible” were nothing but an elaborate play they had staged. They were only pretending to be poor. But I… I was really dead. 1. During a break between classes, my nose suddenly started bleeding. It took half a pack of tissues to finally make it stop. My deskmate, Sarah, looked at my pale face and whispered, “My neighbor’s older brother used to get nosebleeds like that. Turned out to be leukemia… His family spent all their money, but they still couldn’t save him…” I laughed and called her a jinx, but a cold dread washed over me. Lately, I’d been feeling so weak. In gym class, I’d be out of breath after just a few steps. A bruise on my knee from who-knows-when had refused to fade for weeks. I tried to convince myself it was nothing, to avoid worrying my parents for no reason, but the panic grew like a weed in my chest. What if… what if it was true? I snuck off to a community clinic for a blood test. After looking at the results, the doctor’s expression turned grim. He said he couldn’t rule out a serious blood disorder and urged me to go to a major hospital for a full workup as soon as possible. My world collapsed. I clutched the flimsy report, my legs feeling like they didn’t belong to me. I don’t even remember how I made it home. Mom was in the kitchen, wearing a faded, washed-out apron. Hearing me at the door, she called out, “Go wash your hands! I made that stew you love tonight.” I quickly crumpled the lab report into a ball and shoved it deep into my backpack. A little later, Dad came home. He looked exhausted, shrugging off his old jacket with its frayed cuffs and slumping into a chair with a long sigh. Mom brought the food to the table. A plate of sautéed cabbage, a bowl of thin meatball stew, and in the middle, a small dish of scrambled eggs—a rare luxury for us. Dad ate quickly, as if he were starving. Mom mumbled about the price of pork going up again. I picked at my rice, the food tasteless in my mouth, the doctor’s words echoing in my head. “Dad, Mom…” I called out softly, putting down my chopsticks. They both looked up. “What if… what if I got really sick?” I stared at the food, not daring to meet their eyes. “Like, with cancer… what would we do?” The table fell silent. Dad’s hand, holding his fork, froze mid-air. Mom’s spoon clinked against the side of her bowl. “Don’t say such things!” Mom was the first to react, her brow furrowed. “A young girl like you shouldn’t be talking about such unlucky things.” “But what if? Just… what if?” I pressed, my eyes starting to burn. Dad put down his fork and ruffled my hair with his rough hand. “Lily, don’t let your imagination run wild. Your only job right now is to study hard. But if that day ever did come…” He paused. “You don’t have to worry. Dad would sell the house, empty our accounts, we’d do whatever it takes to get you treated.” Mom nodded vigorously. “That’s right! We’d spend every last penny on you! Now eat, before your food gets cold.” And just like that, the conversation was over. Dad went back to his meal. Mom put a piece of egg in my bowl. “Eat up. You need to grow.” I listened to their words, looked at their faded clothes, at the meager meal on the table. “Sell the house…” “Every last penny…” I slowly picked up my chopsticks, lowered my head, and buried my face in my bowl. A tear fell, then another, splashing silently into the white rice. I quickly shoveled a large mouthful, swallowing my tears along with it. 2. From the moment I can remember, I knew we were poor. We lived in a run-down apartment with paint peeling from the walls in blotchy patches. Whenever it rained, water would seep in through the corners, leaving fuzzy spots of mold. I never had new clothes, only my older sister’s hand-me-downs. The cuffs were worn shiny and the colors were faded, but Mom always said they were still good enough to wear, that we couldn’t be wasteful. She would stroke my hair and sigh. “Your dad and I work from dawn till dusk at the market. Every penny is hard-earned. That’s why you have to be more grown-up than other kids, understand?” Dad would look at me with serious eyes. “You have to make us proud. Study hard. That’s the only way to make our sacrifices worth it.” I would clutch the worn fabric of my shirt and nod fiercely. And so, life went on, stretched thin. I had no allowance. When other kids bought snacks, stickers, or colorful pens, I just watched. When they talked about having pizza on the weekend or going to an amusement park, I had nothing to say. I would just look down and stay quiet. When my stomach growled, I’d chug glasses of hot water. The warmth and weight in my belly made it feel less empty. I never complained about not feeling well. I just endured it. Last winter, I coughed for a whole month. At night, I’d muffle the sound with my pillow so I wouldn’t wake my parents, coughing until tears streamed down my face. The next morning, I’d get up and go to school like nothing was wrong. My parents always praised me. “Our Lily is the most sensible girl.” Hearing that, I never knew how to feel. The truth was, I wanted to tell them things. I wanted to tell them my throat was so itchy it hurt. That my sister’s old backpack was so worn the strap was about to snap. That for my birthday, all I wanted was a tiny slice of cream cake. But I was scared. I was scared that if I asked for something that cost money, it would just make them more tired. I was scared of the troubled look in their eyes, scared of hearing them sigh. I was scared that my small wishes would be the last straw that broke their backs. That night, I lay in bed, unable to sleep. I stared into the darkness, the doctor’s grave face and my parents’ words—“sell the house,” “every last penny”—swirling in my mind. As dawn approached, I finally made my decision. If treating my illness would bankrupt this family, if it would push them into absolute despair, then I would rather… I would rather disappear. I heard a faint noise from outside my room. My parents were getting up. A few moments later, Mom gently pushed my door open. “Lily, your dad and I are heading to the market. I left breakfast on the stove for you. Eat before you go to school.” I mumbled a quiet “okay” from under the covers, my eyes squeezed shut, not daring to look at her. The door clicked shut, and their footsteps faded away. The apartment was terrifyingly quiet, the only sound my own heartbeat. I slowly sat up and took a pen and paper from my backpack. With careful, deliberate strokes, I wrote a letter to my parents. When I was done, I folded it neatly and placed it under my pillow. I walked to the old dresser, knelt, and pulled open the bottom drawer. It was a mess, but after a moment of rummaging, my fingers found the small, yellowed pill bottle. I remembered when I was little, Mom used to take these when she couldn’t sleep. She had hidden the bottle carefully and told me, her voice serious, “Lily, you must never, ever touch these. If a child takes these… they will leave Mom and Dad forever.” I never forgot those words. Now that I was older, I knew what “leave forever” meant. It meant to die. If I died, they would be free. I went to the kitchen, poured a glass of water, and returned to my bed. I twisted off the cap and poured the white tablets into my palm. Staring at them, my parents’ smiling faces flashed in my mind. My nose stung, and tears splattered onto the back of my hand. For a second, I was scared. I didn’t want to leave. But then their smiles faded, replaced by the deep, weary lines of their constant labor. I closed my eyes and told myself: You can’t be selfish. Leaving was the last sensible thing I could do for them. I took a deep breath, tossed the pills into my mouth, and washed them down with the cold water. They were bitter, but the taste quickly faded. I placed the empty bottle by my pillow, lay down, and pulled the covers up. The heavy feeling in my chest seemed to vanish. The light outside grew brighter. I could hear birds starting to sing. I closed my eyes. I was so tired. All I wanted was to sleep. 3. After a while, I seemed to “wake up” again. My body felt as light as a feather. I looked down and saw another me, lying peacefully in the bed, looking as if she were simply asleep. So… I was dead? But where was I supposed to go now? I had no idea. Suddenly, I thought of my sister, Ashley. I’d last seen her at Christmas. She’d only stayed for three days before rushing off again. I had called her yesterday, but before I could say much, there was a commotion on her end, and she’d hung up abruptly. Before I left for good, I wanted to see her one more time. The thought had barely formed when the world blurred. Suddenly, I was standing outside a bright, airy café. Through the large window, I saw Ashley laughing with a group of friends. She was wearing a beautiful floral dress, her hair perfectly styled. A delicate piece of cake sat in front of her. My gaze fell on the brand-new designer bag sitting beside her. I’d seen that brand at the mall. I had secretly counted the zeros on the price tag. But how could Ashley… I drifted closer for a better look. Her phone rang, startling me. She walked to a quiet corner to answer it, and I followed. “Mom?” her voice was cheerful. “Why are you calling now?” Mom’s voice came through clearly from the other end. “Have you heard from your sister lately? I have a feeling something’s off with her…” “Oh, she called yesterday,” Ashley said, her tone casual. “Said she needed to buy a textbook and asked to borrow a hundred dollars.” “A textbook?” Mom’s voice shot up, thick with undisguised annoyance. “Why couldn’t she just ask us for it? That girl… I don’t know what she’s scheming.” I instinctively looked down, a bitter taste in my mouth. The truth was… I couldn’t afford the co-pay for the hospital tests. The lie to my sister was an act of desperation. “Don’t worry, I didn’t give her anything,” Ashley said with a sly smile. “I pretended I was super busy and hung up. Made her go to you guys for it.” “Smart girl,” Mom’s voice turned serious, with a hint of a warning. “Remember, you are not to give her any money behind our backs. If I find out you did, you can forget about your allowance from us. And speaking of which, you have a job now, you should learn to be more independent…” “Oh, Mommm,” Ashley whined. “I won’t give her any, I promise. After rent, my salary is barely anything. How am I supposed to go shopping without your help?” “Alright, alright,” Mom sighed, her tone softening. “Just be careful around your sister. Don’t blow our cover. That girl is sharp. If she finds out, it’ll be a huge mess.” “I know, thanks, Mom!” Ashley hung up, a smile on her face, and rejoined her friends, chatting about a concert that weekend. But my mind was in turmoil. They were clearly hiding something from me.

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The invitation to appear alongside Griffin Shaw’s protégé, Tessa Monroe, felt like a deliberate provocation. The moment the livestream opened, the comments section exploded, mostly praising me: [Holy cow, that’s classic Hollywood-era elegance. Who’s the new A-lister?] [Step aside, Tessa. This woman is a goddess.] Tessa Monroe offered a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “You look so familiar, ma’am,” she said, tilting her head. “You remind me of the woman in that notorious viral clip. The one doing… well, that… with Pierce Shaw in his Rolls-Royce Cullinan.” I froze. Everyone watching knew Pierce Shaw was my husband. Griffin’s father. Tessa clapped a hand over her mouth in a mock gasp. “Oh, I must be mistaken! Forgive me, ma’am. You couldn’t possibly be that kind of person. I’m just rambling, everyone, please disregard!” I smiled—a practiced, steel-edged smile. “No mistake, Tessa.” The air thickened. Every camera lens seemed to zoom in, and the torrent of live comments stuttered into a stunned silence. “When Griffin brought you home to meet the family,” I continued, my voice smooth and low, “you called me ‘Mom.’” 1 The words “Pierce Shaw,” “had sex in the car” and “that kind of person” hung in the sudden, absolute silence of the studio. I watched Tessa’s performance. “Tessa, you don’t recognize me?” It was only three months ago that my son, Griffin, had proudly video-called me from our living room, introducing his supposed future fiancée. Tessa had been all sweet deference and had addressed me as “Mom” with a sickeningly saccharine lilt. Now, she seemed to have forgotten the face of the woman she was trying to replace. Revealing my identity now, in this setting, would shatter this event and, worse, embarrass my son for his awful taste. I decided to play the long game. “You must be mistaken,” I told her, keeping my tone light. “I haven’t been in any such video.” Tessa widened her eyes in feigned confusion. “Oh, but I’m almost sure. It was near The Grand Magnolia Hotel, around eleven-thirty at night. A black Cullinan, the customized one with the Connecticut plates. I’m so sorry, am I giving away too many details?” She fluttered her hands at the camera. “Everyone, seriously, please don’t look into this! I’m just talking out of turn. My lovely fans, you must promise not to go searching!” My composure cracked. In the age of the internet, a few precise details were all it took to get someone doxed. Tessa was spoon-feeding her followers the exact coordinates to destroy me. When Griffin first brought her name up, I told Pierce I had a bad feeling about the girl. Something felt off, too calculated. Now I knew what it was. This girl was a master manipulator. A Hollowwood hack with A-list acting skills. It was no wonder she had my son wrapped around her finger. But I wasn’t worried. Pierce and I had driven past The Grand Magnolia that night, but we certainly weren’t childish enough to be making a viral spectacle. Sure enough, the search failed to turn up any concrete evidence. I decided to give her one final chance to step back. I smiled again. “Tessa, you’re definitely misremembering. Pierce and I weren’t doing anything like that.” Her eyes darted away for a millisecond. She pressed her lips together, adopting a thoughtful pose. “You’re right, ma’am. You’re totally right. After all, the video was taken down quickly. Without proof, it’s just my word against yours.” My jaw tightened. She was characterizing a lie as a suppressed truth. Immediately, her fan club began flooding the comments: [Tessa says that, but I remember seeing it too! The time, the location, the car—it all checks out. Then poof, it vanished.] [Standard. The star of the video is Pierce Shaw. The Shaw Group’s PR is brutal. Of course, they’d scrub it.] [Wow. Didn’t realize the beautiful lady was so… adventurous. And with the older generation, too!] [Follow for a link to the uncensored version of Veronica Shaw’s content!] [+1!] [+1!] [I’m following!] I scowled. Though I looked closer to Tessa’s age, the host knew my true age. I glanced at him, expecting him to interject and clarify my identity, but he was watching the screen with a look of pure, cynical amusement. He and Tessa exchanged a fleeting, conspiratorial glance. The host, who I now realized Tessa must have introduced, cleared his throat. “Let’s not dwell on this,” he announced. “Whatever Ms. Shaw has done, it is her private business. Can we please move on with the event?” [??? Private business? So you admit Veronica Shaw slept with Pierce Shaw!] The host threw his hands up. “I didn’t say that!” [Exactly! You know what kind of guest you have! I thought we were getting another iconic face on the scene! Turns out it’s just a high-class call girl!] When Tessa saw the mention of herself as “the other iconic face,” her eyes momentarily darkened—a flicker of pure, untamed ambition. When she spoke, she was trembling, on the verge of tears. “Oh, please, I was just making an innocent comment! You mustn’t speculate about Ms. Shaw like this! Spreading malicious rumors about women is terrible!” [If she doesn’t want rumors, she shouldn’t be a homewrecker. And with the older generation! Pierce Shaw could be her father! Disgusting!] [Tessa is so genuine. She climbed to the A-list on her talent alone.] “Please, stop!” Tessa’s eyes were glistening red. “I was just talking casually. It’s unfair to speculate without any hard evidence.” [Tessa is such an angel!] [She’s defending the very woman who’s attacking her! I’m a fan for life!] “You all…” Tessa’s face was a study in tortured helplessness. She turned to me. “Ms. Shaw, my fans are young and perhaps a little overzealous. Please don’t be angry. I promise to educate them later!” “Have you staged enough of a scene, Tessa?” I asked, my voice cutting through the noise. She recoiled. “Ms. Shaw, what are you implying?” “I’m saying your cheap parlor tricks are something my colleagues tossed out eight hundred years ago,” I scoffed. “If you truly didn’t want your fans to misunderstand, why did you offer such perfectly precise details at the beginning? You get to play the victim and the moral high ground simultaneously. Your target is left eating dust, afraid to fight back against your mob. You’ve run this play many times, haven’t you? And it always works.” Tessa’s face went white. I leaned in, ensuring my voice wouldn’t carry to the mic. “And even if your malicious lie were true, what gives you the right to comment? You are a Hollowwood hack. The affairs of the Shaw family are not your business.” Tessa covered her mouth dramatically. “Ma’am, you’re being cruel…” I looked down at her. “I’m giving you one last chance. Clarify your mistake to the entire streaming audience. I will allow you that one shred of dignity.” The host intervened, frowning. “Ms. Shaw, what does Tessa need to clarify? She merely mentioned things she saw.” I fixed the host with a cold stare. “A hired mouthpiece thinks he can weigh in on the Shaw family’s business?” “You!” Tessa burst into perfect, glistening tears. She was stunning in her sorrow. “You are going too far!” Then, she pulled out a phone and dialed a number. A familiar voice instantly filled the room, sounding close. “Wifey? What’s up? Miss me already?” The comments section went ballistic: [OH MY GOD, whose voice is that?! It’s Griffin Shaw! The CEO’s heir!] Tessa sobbed harder. “Griffin… someone is being mean to me…” 3 [It IS Griffin Shaw! The ice-cold heir to the Shaw Group! Did you hear what he just said?! Wifey! They’re dating!] [My daughter is the best!] I stared, a cold knot forming in my stomach. Pierce and I had raised Griffin to be measured, almost pathologically calm. He was panting into the phone. He must truly be in love with this girl. Fine, I thought. He needs to see her true face. Tessa suddenly wailed. “And it gets worse! This woman is being slandered by cruel rumors, and when I tried to defend her, she slapped me with an insult and said I was the one trying to stage a scene!” The comments exploded again: [I was here! I saw it! Tessa is telling the truth!] [I actually thought the old woman was beautiful at first. Turns out she’s a tramp!] Tessa cried harder, and the host rushed to take her off-camera. “We need to pause the stream. Tessa is very distressed.” The feed was cut. I went backstage, only to find Tessa dramatically convulsing with sobs. “Griffin… am I not good enough for you? Am I a terrible person?” Over the phone, Griffin’s voice was molten with adoration. “Absolutely not. Don’t listen to that trash. I swear to you, baby, I will never marry anyone but you.” My eye twitched. “Ahem.” I cleared my throat, stepping closer. Tessa immediately pressed her hand over the phone’s mic, blocking my voice from reaching Griffin. Her eyes were red, but the malice was clear. “Why would you say such things, ma’am? Even if you and Pierce have some pathetic, under-the-table arrangement, it’s between Griffin and me. You aren’t Pierce’s real wife. You have no right to interfere.” I raised an eyebrow. “Actually, I am Pierce’s real wife. And Griffin’s biological mother.” She froze. Then, a chilling smile curled her lips. “You just admitted that yourself, Mrs. Shaw.” I blinked. What was she playing at? She slowly raised a second phone. The stream that was supposed to be cut was alive and well on her other device. The comments raced: [SHE ADMITTED IT! SHE REALLY DID SLEEP WITH PIERCE SHAW!] [Unbelievable! I thought she had class! Now they’re all this fake.] [Pierce Shaw just played with a piece of meat. She actually thinks she’s the First Lady of the Shaw Group? LOL.] [First time I’ve seen a woman so publicly own her status as a mistress. Wait until the real Mrs. Shaw finds out!] Griffin’s confused voice came over the line. Tessa immediately put the phone to her ear. “It’s nothing, Griffin, only… only that woman is harassing me again… Baby, what am I going to do?” Griffin’s voice trembled with protective rage. “Don’t worry, I’m canceling my entire schedule. Send me your location. I’m coming now, baby.” I got goosebumps from the sheer sweetness of his tone, but the comments were delighted: [Listen to Griffin! He sounds like he’s melting! That’s the ice-cold heir of a Fortune 500 company!] [Tessa has him wrapped around her little finger!] I took a deep, steadying breath. I narrowed my eyes at Tessa. “All right, if you want to play dirty, don’t blame me for the fallout.” I turned and walked away. If Griffin was coming, so much the better. I was ready to ask my son, the supposed future CEO of the Shaw Group, how he could be so breathtakingly naive. 4 The stream resumed shortly. Before the host could speak, Tessa addressed me directly. “Ms. Shaw, you still haven’t clarified the rumors about you and Pierce. Don’t you want to?” I chuckled. “Clarify? Absolutely. I’m going to clarify my entire identity. And then I’m going to press charges for slander and doxing.” Tessa’s eyes reddened. “Do you really want me to release the hard evidence, ma’am?” “Oh? Did you find the footage of Pierce and me in bed?” Tessa bit her lip. “You’re asking for it.” She nodded to the host, who directed everyone’s attention to the large screen behind us. The screen displayed a high-resolution, time-stamped surveillance photo of Pierce and me, clearly in our Cullinan, driving past The Grand Magnolia Hotel late that night. [OMG! It really IS Pierce Shaw and Veronica Shaw! Driving past a high-end hotel late at night! You know what that means!] “Well, Ms. Shaw,” Tessa said, eyes gleaming. “What do you have to say now?” I smiled back. “Just a photo? So what?” A few dissenting comments finally began to pop up: [Hold on, the mob is getting terrifying. There’s no hard evidence, but everyone is acting like they saw the sex tape. Internet, be rational!] [I agree. Tessa’s initial claim about a video was unsubstantiated. I feel like she’s trying to manipulate the narrative.] Seeing the tide turn, Tessa began to panic. I watched her, supremely composed. “What’s next? You have more evidence? Did you break into my house and plant cameras?” Tessa sneered. “No need for that.” The screen suddenly filled with a heavily pixelated video. The audio, however, was clear and sickeningly suggestive. Moans and gasps rose and fell. The thing that sent a cold chill down my spine: the female voice was unmistakably mine. The faces, though heavily obscured, were clearly Pierce’s and mine. [??? MOMMY, MY EYES!] [HOLY CRAP, it’s real! What about all those people who said Tessa was lying? Say something now!] [I can’t believe Veronica Shaw is so shameless…] The video was a patchwork of blurring and clear faces, deceptively authentic. I stared at the screen, my blood turning to ice. “Did you really spend your morning AI-deep-faking Pierce and me?” The host looked indignant. “Ms. Shaw, own up to your actions. Don’t blame A.I. for everything! Tessa wanted to give you a chance to save face, but you were the one who kept pushing.” [Exactly! She asked for the hammer!] [The entertainment industry is a joke.] [No! Tessa is the clean one!] Tessa wiped a tear from her eye. “Ma’am, you forced my hand. If I hadn’t released this, you would have escalated your attack against me. I tried to give you a chance to explain…” Watching the flawlessly fabricated video—the fake face and voice—I was done. I looked at the sniveling woman and the complicit host. My patience snapped. I stood up to leave. “Where are you going, ma’am?” Tessa rushed forward to grab me. I shrugged her off, but she lunged again. “Ms. Shaw!” She aimed for my collar. With a strong tug, she ripped the fabric, exposing a large portion of my shoulder. “Enough!” My palm cracked against her cheek. Tessa stumbled back, clutching her face, then screamed, “Griffin! It hurts!” Griffin? I turned, just as a familiar, enraged voice boomed through the studio. “Grab her! Hold her down!” Before I could react, two of Griffin’s private security guards grabbed me from behind, slamming me to the ground. My knee hit the floor with a sickening thud, swelling instantly. “You damn tramp! Harassing the future Mrs. Shaw! You’ve got a death wish!” They twisted my arm to look at my face. “M-Mrs. Shaw?!” The hands instantly released me. Griffin stood a few feet away, his back to me, cradling a sobbing Tessa. “Is your face swelling? Does it hurt? I’m so sorry, baby. I shouldn’t have left you alone.” “M-Mr. Shaw…” one of the bodyguards stammered. “Shut up! Can’t you see I’m busy?” “Mr. Shaw… the Mrs.…” “What Mrs.—” Griffin turned, annoyed, and saw me being helped up by his stunned security team, my face a mask of cold fury. He stopped breathing.

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Mistakenly posted a social media post as a resignation letter, which then went viral.Me: “Did you read the document I submitted?” Boss: “Mm… I read it.” Me: “Why didn’t you reply? Don’t agree?” He didn’t speak. I was getting impatient: “If you don’t speak, I’ll take it as a yes. I’ll come to your office this afternoon.” Boss replied instantly: “That fast?” Me: “? What’s fast?” Boss: “I need to think about it…” Two seconds later, he sent another message: “Is that okay?” I agreed. The result? He left work early and even gave the entire company three days off. I sat at my desk pondering for a long time: Is he resorting to such extreme measures just to keep me from resigning? Chapter 1 At this moment, the whole company exploded. Just because of one sentence from Liam Grant: “Clock out. Take three days off.” “Is the boss crazy?” My deskmate, Chloe, refreshed her phone several times. I held my phone, looking around in confusion. So, what does that make the vacation I exchanged my resignation for? Is it just my bad luck? “The economy is bad recently. Could it be that the boss can’t afford to pay salaries, so he’s testing us with this?” “Is this the rhythm of layoffs?” “Right, right! When I went to submit the proposal today, I heard the boss talking about layoffs. Looks like it’s happening!” … My heart went cold. If it’s a layoff, I can still get a severance package! Is it too late to withdraw my resignation letter now? Chapter 2 Regardless of whether it was too late, I was already standing in Liam’s office. I have to say, Liam is genuinely good-looking. Broad shoulders. Slim waist. And that ass… Didn’t see the ass today. But based on my past observations, it probably feels great to smack. “Cough.” The clearing of a throat pulled me back to reality. “Something the matter?” Liam didn’t look up at me, just slowly flipping through the document in his hand. I was a bit obsequious: “Boss, did you read the letter I submitted today…” “I read it.” The cold words just slipped out of his mouth so casually. I was anxious, but didn’t dare show it too much: “It’s fine if you read it, I just wanted to…” “Wanted to what?” He closed the document and adjusted the gold-rimmed glasses he put on at some point. I answered quickly. Of course, I want to withdraw the resignation letter. You lay me off, and then I sadly take a huge severance package! Did you think I was fantasizing about how hard your abs are under that shirt, or how bouncy your butt is on that chair? Ridiculous. “Didn’t I say I would consider it?” Liam finally looked up at me, his eyes meaningful: “Are you in a hurry?” “Yes!” I blurted out. Took a step forward, closing the distance between us. Emphasizing again with a sincere expression: “Boss, I’m really in a hurry.” Liam froze for a moment, a weird flush suddenly appearing on his ears. “Mm, I know.” “I’ll think about it some more.” My voice softened a bit: “Boss, no need to consider.” At this close distance, I saw Liam’s Adam’s apple roll quickly. Damn sexy. “What?” The rising intonation pulled back my scattered thoughts. “I decided to withdraw it first.” “I wrote that just for fun, sent it to you by mistake.” “I didn’t intend to have that thought.” Instantly, he frowned. Look at that. Considering for so long without approving, and even saying he needs to think about it when I chased him to the office. Now that I say I want to withdraw the resignation letter, the breath he was holding is released. If this isn’t reluctance to let me go, what is it! But it’s a pity. Although working under him is easy, the benefits are good, and he looks god-like, which is the main point. But! I am disappointing myself. Staying up late writing novels recently, my health isn’t great, and I can’t take it anymore. Plus, the royalties I earn are enough to support myself. So I just wanted to resign and rest at home for a while. Chapter 3 “Why do you suddenly regret it again?” Liam was expressionless, his tone serious. “Usually I don’t care about your playing around, and jokes with me are harmless, but when it comes to doing things…” He paused: “Shouldn’t you consider carefully before acting, and then see it through to the end?” I could feel he lowered his volume, probably afraid of being too harsh on me. Truly a beautiful and kind-hearted boss. I was even more moved: “Yes, but I can’t bear to leave you.” His fingers trembled slightly on the desk. I added: “And the others.” “Like Alex in the pantry who always pours coffee for me, Quinn who often brings milk tea for the ladies, Leo who helps with work and teaches us tech…” “All of them, I can’t bear to leave.” Liam narrowed his eyes slightly: “You hold quite a few male colleagues in your heart.” “Like them all?” Not really. The boss is still superior; after all, their asses aren’t as perky as yours. I responded: “There are female colleagues too.” “Everyone, I like them all quite a bit.” He sneered: “I don’t know what these people you mentioned have to do with what you sent me.” “But based on what you mean now, there are too many choices, so you want to hesitate again, right?” “Yes.” I said solemnly: “I can’t hang myself on one tree.” “Of course, I can’t easily give up this one tree either, so I still have to consider more.” Liam didn’t say a word, but his fingers curled into a fist, knuckles turning white. Seems like I touched his heart. After all, he’s the boss of a company, supporting so many people. He can’t just run away like me. Rich people must have their pitiful points. “I see you are quite willing to part with me, every sentence stabs the heart.” Liam took off his gold-rimmed glasses. Returned to his usual aloof, unapproachable demeanor. “Get out.” “So…” “I know you don’t have that thought anymore, I won’t take it to heart.” Chapter 4 The boss’s mind is like the weather in June, unpredictable. When I left the office, I found everyone was already gone. Opened my phone, work group messages popped up. [Big Ass Boss: Don’t worry about leaving, nothing’s wrong. Those who continue to work overtime now will be considered as giving up the vacation.] Then a wave of received and flattering words. These messages were sent when I entered the office. The tone was urgent, like shooing people away. Pretty much the same as shooing me away just now. I “tsk-tsked”: I certainly wouldn’t be narcissistic enough to think sending a resignation letter could make the boss give three days off. Saying nothing’s wrong, bullshit, he was in such a hurry to drive people away probably to take this time to list the layoff names properly. Also. Chloe sent me a message: [Don’t know which god-killed person pulled my computer cable in a hurry, pissed me off.] [Borrowing your computer to transfer some files haha.] I replied with a few emojis indicating I was out of the office. Casually complained about Liam a couple of times. Turned off the phone, started packing slowly. Pondering in my heart. Step one to get the severance package, withdraw the resignation letter. Step two, make the boss voluntarily lay me off. While the computer screen was still on, I opened Google search: “How to make the boss voluntarily…” The blinds opened with a “whoosh”. I faced a black face. “Tara, you cast your screen to my office.” Damn it! Chapter 5 I ran all the way home, cursing Chloe a hundred times. “Chloe, you’re going to kill me, why did you use my computer to request a connection with the boss’s computer!” “I almost pasted the words ‘voluntary layoff’ on his forehead!” Chloe begged for mercy: “I didn’t cast the screen! I was afraid you had unsaved data so I didn’t turn it off, maybe someone touched it by mistake.” That is also a possibility. I opened the document at light speed. Inside was the article I wrote while slacking off. Luckily not lost. I set up snacks and water, ready to go. Preparing to stay up all night driving on the “highway” (writing smut). As for getting the severance package through voluntary layoff, I’ll figure it out later. Pleasing someone is hard, but isn’t annoying someone simple? Until midnight, cool wind poured in from the window. After sneezing several times in a row, I started having a runny nose. Caught a cold again. Used up tissues one by one, the trash can was almost full. Fighting sleepiness, I sent the message and file. “Had a big session tonight, body aches all over, seem to have caught a cold now, seeking comfort.” I have a very good relationship with my editor, I often talk to her like this. I waited quietly for the file to send. But. Sending failed. Forcing my eyelids open, I continued sending messages to the editor: “Is my baby far away still angry?” It’s a long story. A while ago, my editor received an abusive email in the middle of the night, pissed her off so much she cried to me for half the night. So she cowardly decided not to open her email at midnight. Guessing I dragged the manuscript for too long, she forgot today was my deadline and didn’t open permissions for me. Yawning, I groggily sent the new draft into the chat box. And comforted her: “Don’t be angry, showing you something good.” After speaking, I fell asleep immediately. Completely missing the bombardment of messages, and retracting them one by one. Chapter 6 I didn’t open my eyes until the sun was high the next day. Didn’t expect to catch a cold. Chloe sent a message saying all employees were gathering for a meal. I refused. [Stayed up all night, back ache, and caught a cold.] The small group of female colleagues exploded with onlookers: [Just half a day off, and you’re so unrestrained, come out for criticism!] [Hoes before bros!] [So fierce? Introduce one to me too.] […] I held my forehead and smiled bitterly. Shouldn’t have recommended novels to this group back then. Minds full of things that can’t be put on the table. Phone went “ding ding” a few times. Liam actually sent a message. [Sick? Took medicine?] [Better pay attention to rest.] Subconsciously wanted to click in to reply. But I suddenly remembered: I’m the one who needs him to voluntarily lay me off. Have to annoy him. So I deliberately ignored him and went to reply to the small group message. Clicked voice message: “Yes, can still fight three hundred rounds.” Voice sent, the yellow-minded girls passionately turned on their mics. The scale of conversation was so big every sentence had to be beeped out. I looked through them sentence by sentence. Laughing so hard I trembled on the bed. When I had enough fun. I clicked open Liam’s message box: [Sick, took it.] Sending failed. He actually blocked me. I sat up abruptly. Who provoked him again? Sorted through my chaotic brain once, I asked Chloe: [Is Liam eating with you guys?] Chloe: [Yeah, he just asked if you were coming, I said you were sick and couldn’t get out of bed.] Me: [That’s really heartless of him, blocking me when I’m this miserable.] Chloe: [Ah, could it be because of that voice message just now, he thinks we teamed up to lie to him.] Me: [?] Chloe: [The three hundred rounds one… I forgot to mute just now, accidentally played it on speaker.] Me: [……]

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My best friend and I transmigrated into a romance novel together. She became the unloved, simping wife of the scheming Second Male Lead. I became the stand-in lover for the psycho Villain. On the surface, we acted heartbroken and unrequited. Behind the scenes, we swiped their black cards and lived like queens. We lived this life of luxury for three years, until the real heroine—the “One That Got Away”—returned. Knowing that both the Second Lead and the Villain would go mad for her, my best friend knocked on my door late one night with a small bag. “I saved enough money. How about you?” Me: “Almost. But I can spend yours.” So, we planned the perfect fake deaths. Three years later, my best friend had the misfortune of running into her ex-husband at a nightclub. I panicked: “I’ll cover you! Run!” I turned around and slammed right into a solid chest. The psycho Villain calmly removed his tie and slowly bound my wrists. “You worry about running yourself first.” Chapter 1 When Liam Sterling suddenly came home, Chloe was in the middle of showing off her new pink diamond ring. Seeing Liam’s signature Maybach pull into the driveway, Chloe shoved me. “Quick, quick! Hide!” Feeling like an adulterer caught in the act, I scrambled into the walk-in closet. Just as I hid, Liam pushed the door open. Chloe, who had been happily flaunting her wealth seconds ago, now had red-rimmed eyes and a look of utter despair. Hearing the door, she gave a tragic smile. “So, you know how to come home.” Liam strode over to her. He looked down at her coldly. “Lily is missing.” “Chloe, I told you. Lily is just a student I’m sponsoring.” “If you have a problem with the Sterling family, take it out on me. Don’t target innocent people.” Chloe understood. Her eyes widened in disbelief. “You think I kidnapped her?” Liam closed his eyes. “She disappeared right after calling you. I have no choice but to suspect you.” His phone rang. He answered, glanced at Chloe, and said, “Okay, I’m coming.” He turned to leave. Chloe lost control, rushing forward to grab his hand. “Liam, I swear I didn’t do it.” Liam’s eyes were like ice. “I will investigate. Until the results are in, I won’t see you again.” Tears fell instantly from Chloe’s eyes. “Can you leave tomorrow?” Her eyes were red, her tone begging. “Today is our wedding anniversary. Can’t you stay just one night?” Liam was silent for two seconds, but eventually pulled his hand away. “I’m sorry. The police have a lead on Lily. I have to go.” The door slammed shut. Chloe screamed brokenly, “Liam Sterling! Come back!” We stayed silent for two seconds, listening to his footsteps fade away. “Oh my god, finally.” Chloe wiped her tears and let me out of the closet. I applauded. “That was Oscar-worthy, sis.” Chloe rolled her eyes. “Cut the crap. The situation is bad. We need a plan.” “The heroine is back, and she’s starting her drama. My guy is already abusing me emotionally, yours won’t be far behind.” I asked, “You mean…” “We have to run,” Chloe said firmly. “If we don’t run now, we’ll have the money but no life to spend it.” Chapter 2 Chloe and I are both transmigrators. She married the scheming Second Male Lead, Liam Sterling, through a political alliance. For three years, he treated her like air. I was the stand-in for the psycho Villain, Adrian Locke. He kept me in a Manhattan penthouse for three years because I looked like his first love. We had no complaints about our roles. The Sterling family was old money and politics—untouchable. Adrian Locke controlled the underworld and legitimate businesses—a mad dog everyone feared. Their common trait? They were rich. Filthy rich. For three years, we acted heartbroken while secretly spending their money like water. But the game had changed. The heroine, Lily White, was back. According to the plot, Chloe’s husband Liam is Lily’s loyal knight. My boyfriend Adrian is even worse. Lily is his obsession. He would kill gods and buddhas for her. “If we don’t leave now, it’ll be too late,” Chloe said. “Lily isn’t simple. She staged this disappearance to frame me.” “Liam is just cold, but what about Adrian? That psycho is capable of anything.” I shivered. True. Once, Adrian took me to a poker game. A guy looked at my chest for too long, and Adrian had his legs broken and threw him into the Hudson River. I was just a stand-in, and he was that possessive. If he thought I hurt his precious Lily, I’d be dead ten times over. We had to go. Hurting my feelings is fine. Hurting my physical safety is absolutely not. Chloe looked at me. “Did you save enough?” I shook my head. “No. But I know you did. I’m planning to spend yours.” Chloe: “…” Luckily, she was my best friend. She was ready to be my sugar mama. We discussed escape plans. Only one was viable. Faking our deaths. We knew too many secrets about the Sterling and Locke families. If we didn’t “die,” they would never stop looking for us. “Who goes first?” I asked. “Me first, you later,” she said. “Why not me first?” I argued. “I want to get it over with.” Everyone knows the second person has to clean up the mess for the first. Chloe said, “Rock, paper, scissors.” She won. “Best two out of three.” She won again. I grumbled, “Fine, you die first!” Chapter 3 Chloe went off happily to prepare for her death. I went home to pack. I kept my most valuable items in the basement safe. But as soon as I entered the basement, someone covered my eyes. Adrian tied his tie around my eyes and whispered in my ear: “Where did you go?” He smelled faintly of blood and gunpowder. Probably just handled some “business.” Even after three years, I was instinctively afraid of him. My voice trembled. “I went to buy you a gift.” I opened my hand. A silver rose brooch lay there. It wasn’t expensive, but Adrian seemed happy. He picked me up and placed me on the Steinway piano. “What do you want to hear today?” I said obediently, “I like whatever you play.” Ten years ago, Adrian’s father hated his illegitimate son so much he threw him into an illegal asylum. Adrian was abused daily. He wanted to die. Until he found a rose garden in the asylum with an old piano. He played there every day, and a girl outside the wall would listen. That girl was Lily. … After I came to Adrian, he planted a garden of roses for me. He made me wear white dresses and listen to him play. Today, his music was erratic. Halfway through, he stopped violently, grabbed my calf, and pulled me into his arms. I slammed onto the keys; the discordant sound drowned out my gasp. Adrian kissed me. It was aggressive, possessive, chaotic. He said, “Next time, you don’t leave without my permission.” “Mm…” I answered obediently, but Adrian didn’t seem reassured. He tore my dress and crushed me into his embrace. … I have to admit, I was luckier than Chloe. Chloe only got the money. I got… other benefits. … But I couldn’t let Adrian know. When he held me, sweating, and kissed my cheek, I suddenly started crying. Adrian kissed away my tears, his voice low. “Why are you crying?” I asked, “Do you love me?” Adrian’s face went cold. For three years, he gave me everything I wanted. But we never talked about status or love. I was a stand-in. A stand-in needs to be beautiful and, most importantly, sensible. Asking a sugar daddy for his heart is very insensible. Adrian was silent. Silence was the answer. But I pushed. “Adrian, am I the woman you love most?” Adrian stood up and got dressed. Watching him head for the door, I cried, “Where are you going?” Adrian stopped. He turned back, his expression cold, as if the man who just made love to me wasn’t him. “Maya, you crossed the line.” Chapter 4 A canary has no right to question its master. I had performed well for three years. But today, I acted like I wouldn’t give up. I called him dozens of times after he left. He rejected every call. I breathed a sigh of relief. Great. Adrian was punishing me. That meant for at least three days, he wouldn’t answer my calls or come to the penthouse. My escape safety margin just increased significantly. I packed my valuables and moved them to a safe location. Late that night, Chloe came to find me. “Are you ready?” “Ready.” Chloe checked everything one last time. “Okay.” She nodded with satisfaction. “Time to die.” Chapter 5: Liam’s Perspective A lot happened that day. First, Liam’s men found an unconscious Lily in an abandoned warehouse in Brooklyn. Lily was clutching a pearl. Liam’s pupils shrank when he saw it. He recognized that pearl. On their wedding anniversary a year ago, to save face for both families, he bought Chloe a custom vintage gown covered in intricate embroidery and pearls. The pearl in Lily’s hand was from that dress. “Boss, could Mrs. Sterling really have…” his assistant whispered. Everyone knew it was a political marriage, but Chloe loved Liam obsessively. Jealousy is terrifying. Seeing Liam treat her coldly but Lily warmly, could she have snapped? Liam closed his eyes. “Hospital first.” On the way, Lily woke up. Seeing Liam, tears soaked her white dress. “Liam,” she said. “Thank you for everything, but we shouldn’t see each other anymore.” Liam asked gently, “Don’t be afraid. Did you see the kidnapper’s face?” Lily paused, then shook her head. “No, I can’t say.” She bit her lip, eyes misty. “Liam, everyone says you run New York, but I know you have difficulties too.” “I know her family helps your business… so please don’t fight with Chloe because of me.” Liam’s hand tightened silently. It was Chloe. It really was her. He had held onto a sliver of hope, but now it was gone. Lily watched his expression. She sobbed softly. “Liam, please don’t blame Chloe. She only did it because she loves you too much…” Just then, the phone rang. Liam could barely suppress his anger. “Hello.”

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Simon Graham had one rule when it came to his affairs: the women had to be docile. Any mistress who dared to approach his wife would be dealt with by the next day. But they still came, one after another, drawn to the flame. Because I, his wife, was known to be a complete pushover. To marry Simon, I had signed a prenuptial agreement. In the event of a divorce, I would leave with nothing. Later, to have our child, I agreed to send him to live at the family estate, seeing him only once a month. I had no power, no connections, no friends of my own. My skills were limited to beauty treatments and flower arranging. Until Simon’s latest mistress came to show off. “Mr. Graham is so rough,” she purred, rubbing her knee. “He had me on my knees all night. They’re still swollen.” I smiled, set down my shears, and led her toward the storage room. And when her back was turned, I shoved her inside. “You’ve worked so hard,” I said, my voice soft. “You should rest for a couple of days. Don’t see anyone.” 1 When Simon was young, he studied under a great artisan and had a mentor he looked up to like an older brother. During his most difficult times, this mentor helped him immensely. So, when the man passed away, Simon was the first one there. A week later, he returned with an orphan girl—his mentor’s daughter. She called him Uncle Simon. He raised her for two years. On her eighteenth birthday, she had too much to drink and confessed her feelings. “Uncle Simon,” she slurred, “I’m in love with you.” Simon’s face hardened. He forced her head under the faucet. “Are you sober now?” he demanded. He told me later, “If I had known she harbored those kinds of feelings for me, I never would have taken her in.” I smiled and nodded. “Of course, I believe you.” But he was afraid I’d dwell on it. The very next day, he sent the girl, Camilla, abroad. He promised she would never come back. Everyone said Simon was heartless. What they didn’t know was that as soon as her plane was in the air, he was on the phone with a friend overseas. “Take care of her. Make sure she doesn’t suffer, that she doesn’t get hurt. Tell her to be good, and I’ll visit when I have time.” His friend was confused. “If you can’t bear to part with her, why send her away?” Simon took a long drag from his cigarette, his voice low and gravelly. “I can’t risk it. I’m afraid Evelyn will snap and hurt her.” The friend didn’t buy it. “No way. The truth is, you can’t bear to part with Evelyn. You two have too much history.” A sarcastic smile touched Simon’s lips, but he said nothing more. To the world, Evelyn was the most obedient, submissive wife imaginable. Only Simon knew how terrifying she could be. 2 So he sent the girl he cherished most to the other side of the world. And to distract me, he began his string of affairs. For two years, he flew abroad countless times to see her. He spoiled her, coddled her, and in doing so, made her bolder. She even started to provoke me. Today is my birthday. She sent me a text: [Happy birthday, Aunt Evelyn.] [But I’m not feeling well. I miss my uncle. I want him to come and be with me.] [Who do you think he’ll choose? You, or me?] Today is my birthday. Simon told me he had a business trip overseas. “I’ll make it up to you when I get back,” he promised. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll bring it home.” Simon had a new assistant. She was a fiery, flamboyant woman who moved with a sharp, confident energy. She clicked across the marble floor in her high heels and let herself in with a key code, not even bothering to knock. Her eyes swept over me, a dismissive sneer on her face. “Mrs. Graham. I’m here to pack Mr. Graham’s luggage.” She didn’t wait for a reply, striding past me. But then she stopped, a sly look in her eyes. “Mrs. Graham, could you do me a favor and run upstairs?” she asked. “I need the third and fifth suits from the middle wardrobe. As for underwear, the new ones I bought are in the second drawer. I’m sure you can find them.” She smiled sweetly, bending over to rub her knee. “I wouldn’t want to trouble you,” she said, her voice dripping with false sincerity. “But Mr. Graham is so rough. He had me on my knees all night. They’re still swollen.” I listened quietly, a freshly cut rose in my hand. With a single, sharp snip, I severed the stem. The cut was clean, but it ruined the flower’s beauty. I sighed with mock regret and tossed it into the trash. I set down the shears and gave her a soft, fragile smile. “Simon said he needed to bring a contract with him. I’m not sure which one it is. Could you come help me find it?” My reaction made her frown, a flicker of annoyance crossing her face. I lowered my head. “Never mind. You probably wouldn’t know. I’ll just call him.” “How could I not know? I handle all of Mr. Graham’s affairs,” she declared, her chin held high. “Show me where it is.” “Of course.” I led her down the hall, around a corner, and down a flight of stairs to the basement level. “Where are we? What is this place? Why would a contract be down here?” “This is the darkroom, for developing film. Simon brought the contract in here a couple of days ago. It’s on that table over there. Go see.” She walked in without a second thought. “Where’s the light…” Before she could finish, I stared coldly at her back and slammed the heavy door shut. “What are you doing? Evelyn, what are you doing? Let me out!” My voice was flat, devoid of emotion. “You’ve worked so hard. You should rest for a couple of days. Don’t see anyone.” Camilla’s texts were still on my phone screen. I picked it up and replied: [Simon can’t make it. Be careful what you wish for. You might just get it.] I blocked her number and deleted the conversation. Then I dialed Simon. “Hello, Evie…” “Your assistant. I’ve locked her up.” The line went dead silent. After five long seconds, Simon’s voice exploded in a furious roar. “What did you do to her? Evelyn, what did you do?” I idly toyed with a fruit knife. “Don’t worry, she can still scream. Do you want to listen? Oh, wait, there’s no signal down there. You won’t be able to hear a thing.” I continued in a conversational tone. “Let me repeat what she said. She said you won’t let me get away with this. She said when you find out, you’ll kill me.” Something in that sentence triggered him. He growled my name. “Evelyn.” A delighted laugh escaped my lips. “Actually, I’ve been wanting to ask you something. Simon, if I were to kill her, would you call the police on me, or would you help me bury the body?” “Evelyn… Evie, I’m sorry!” His voice trembled, but he forced himself to speak slowly, calmly. “I’m on my way back now. Just wait for me. Don’t do anything foolish. Evie, it’s all my fault. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll stay home and celebrate your birthday with you. I’ll even make you longevity noodles…” “You haven’t answered my question, Simon. Answer me. Are you the informant, or the accomplice?” My voice was a soft, gentle whisper. His breathing, once heavy and ragged, slowly evened out. He took a deep breath, and his voice was a low murmur, almost a prayer. “I’m your accomplice.” 3 Simon was back in less than half an hour, moving faster than I’d ever seen him. He burst through the door, breathless, and without a single glance at me, charged straight for the darkroom. The moment the door opened, the woman stumbled out, sobbing, and tried to throw herself into his arms. Simon sidestepped her without hesitation, letting her fall to the floor. “Mr. Graham, she—” “Shut up!” His eyes were vicious, his jaw clenched. “You will swallow what happened today and never speak of it again. If you breathe a single word of this to anyone, I will destroy you.” The woman stared at him in disbelief. “What are you talking about? She locked me in there for no reason! I don’t care, I’m calling the police! I’m having her arrested—” She made a crazed dash for the exit, but Simon grabbed her, his face a grim mask. I clicked my tongue, crossing my arms and leaning against the wall. “Maybe we should just kill her. I’ll do it, you dig the hole. We can bury her in the backyard. That tree by the fence could use some fertilizer; it’s barely grown this year.” I said it casually, as if discussing the weather. Simon remained silent. Finally, the woman seemed to realize something. She began to tremble, a whimper escaping her throat, the terror in her eyes impossible to hide. Simon took a deep breath, his gaze turning to ice. “I’ll give you a sum of money to disappear. You should know that even if you go to the police, you have no evidence.” He escorted her out. The woman who had arrived like a proud peacock left with unsteady steps, completely broken. I smiled, returned to my seat, and continued my flower arranging. 4 Simon came back quickly, a warm, forced smile plastered on his face. “Are you hungry? What would you like to eat?” “Should I bring Noah home? We could all go out together.” “It’s been so long since the three of us have done something as a family.” … “If you don’t want to go out, I can go grocery shopping and cook at home.” “I’ll just check the kitchen to see what we have.” He turned to leave. “Your phone is ringing,” I said coolly. “It’s been ringing for a while. Aren’t you going to answer it?” Simon froze. “It’s just work. It can wait. Today is all about you.” “It’s ringing again. You should probably get it.” “It’s not…” “Mine’s ringing too, let me just see…” Before I could reach for my phone, Simon lunged forward and snatched it out of my hand. I stared at him, my face a blank canvas. “What are you grabbing?” “What are you afraid of?” “What are you panicking about?” Simon’s face was a tight, rigid mask. His entire body was tense. “You know.” It wasn’t a question. I placed the last flower in the vase and pushed it to the center of the dining table. “Know what?” “That you sent Camilla abroad to protect her?” “That every business trip was just an excuse to see her?” “That when she stripped naked and threw herself at you, you didn’t touch her because you couldn’t bear to?” I pulled his phone from his pocket. It rang again. I answered it. A girl’s helpless sobs came through the speaker. “Uncle, I think someone’s in the house! What should I do? I’m so scared!” Simon’s breath hitched. “Camilla…” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, with raw fear and concern. But I didn’t give him a chance to say more. I ended the call. Simon stared at me, his eyes burning. He looked as if he’d made a decision. He turned and started for the door. “If something really did happen to her,” I said, my voice calm, “you’re too far away to do anything in time.” “But I can give you an opportunity.” “Draw up a divorce agreement that satisfies me, and I’ll sign it.” 5 Simon’s mother was the daughter of a powerful, wealthy family. She ran away with a poor boy, only to be betrayed by him. Heartbroken, she abandoned Simon and returned to her family alone. She died years later from an illness. Only then did her father, Simon’s grandfather, find him and bring him into the fold. By then, Simon and I were seventeen. We had depended on each other for years. The day he was welcomed into his new life, he took nothing with him but me. And I? I had left everything behind without a second thought to follow him. That is the story of Simon and me, the one everyone knows. But the stories everyone knows are always polished, sanitized versions of the truth. Beneath the beautiful facade lies a wall of rot and decay. When Simon’s mother first ran away with his father, they must have been deeply in love. But how long does love last? A year? Two? The pressures of reality quickly eroded their happiness. The man had to provide, and he couldn’t give her the emotional fulfillment she craved. So she sought it elsewhere. In our small town, my father was a professor at the local college. He was gentle, romantic, and well-read. He and Simon’s mother clicked instantly. First, a meeting of souls, then a meeting of bodies. I was the first to discover them. I was six years old and didn’t understand much, but I knew what I saw was terrifying, disgusting. They were tangled together like two devouring monsters. Later, my mother found out. Then Simon’s father found out. One night, he was supposed to be on a long-haul trucking route, but he came back unexpectedly. He caught them in the act. He went to the kitchen and grabbed a carving knife. One slice, two, three… My father was stabbed twenty-seven times—in the face, the head, the back. He died on our doorstep, leaving a bloody handprint on the door he no longer had the strength to knock on. He was dead. Simon’s father was convicted of murder and sentenced to death. Simon’s mother ran away, abandoning him, abandoning everything. That year, the snow was heavy. Simon, now an orphan, collapsed in a snowdrift. My mother stood at the window, watching him for a long time. Finally, she went out and carried him inside. She decided to adopt him. Everyone was against it. My grandparents threw us out of their house. They would not have a murderer’s son under their roof. My mother said nothing. She just took my hand and Simon’s and walked away without looking back. From age six to sixteen, for ten years, that woman supported us by selling street food from a tricycle cart. Until Simon’s grandfather found us. Then, she killed herself. She jumped from a building. No one knew why. Some said she was paving the way for me, that only by dying could she ensure the wealthy family would take me along with Simon. Some said the burden of raising two children had finally crushed her. Others said she never recovered from her husband’s affair and violent death. But whatever the reason, that year was a cataclysm for both Simon and me. A year of utter devastation. 6 Once everything was out in the open with Simon, he no longer had any reason to pretend. He left for his trip overseas immediately. I composed myself and went to the family estate to pick up Noah. The old patriarch, Simon’s grandfather, had agreed to let Noah stay with me today. My son was ecstatic, chattering away on the phone, telling me to hurry. As I waited outside for Noah to come out, Dominic, Simon’s older brother, arrived. “Brother,” I greeted him. He nodded. “Waiting for Noah?” “Yes.” “You can wait inside. Grandfather won’t give you any trouble.” I smiled and shook my head. “It’s fine.” One must know their place, understand the boundaries. Over the years, perhaps because of my quiet compliance, or because I never caused any trouble, the family’s attitude towards me had softened. Especially the patriarch. He no longer strictly controlled the time I spent with Noah. Sometimes, when I brought Noah back, he would even say, “Stay for dinner if you have time.” I never did, but it was a signal. A signal that I was slowly being accepted. After saying goodbye to Dominic, I took Noah to an amusement park. We had a blast, ate everything he wanted, and only went home when he was completely tuckered out. “Mommy’s going away for a month or two,” I told him that night. “I’ll be back before the New Year.” “Are you going for fun or for work?” he asked, his serious tone making me smile. I tweaked his nose. “A bit of both. I’m going to a retreat in the mountains. They have a ceramics studio. How about I make you a little kitten?” Noah nodded, then asked, “What are ceramics?” I showed him a video. His eyes lit up. “Can you take me next time?” “Of course.” I patted his back gently, and he soon fell asleep. No tears, no tantrums, no need for lengthy explanations. He had been raised so well. Even though his mother was not fully accepted by the family, no one had ever taught him to look down on me, to distance himself from me. Noah had his life. His parents had theirs. His great-grandfather had his. It was all just a normal part of life, like eating and sleeping. Why question it? Why feel sad about it? I never thought a child could be the anchor for my emotional well-being. But he was. In a thousand small ways, he taught me that not everything is worth tearing your heart out over.

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The bachelorette party for my best friend was in full swing. We were playing ‘Never Have I Ever,’ and the shots were pouring. I lifted the last finger I had left, ready to deliver a killer truth. “Never have I ever dated Beltway Royalty.” Someone across the table, a friend of the groom, scoffed playfully. “Oh, everyone in Capitol City claims to have dated some ‘Prince.’ Which one did you bag?” “The Palisades. A Caldwell.” The patio instantly fell silent. Brock, the groom, finally leaned back in his chair, a strange look in his eyes. “So, you were the girl who actually dumped Holden Caldwell?” 1 My vision was starting to blur. I fought to keep my eyes focused on Brock. “How do you—how do you know his name? Are you two, like, acquainted?” Brock snapped back to the moment, fiddling with his phone, his expression returning to normal. “Not acquainted. But in that part of D.C., there’s only one family named Caldwell that matters.” “Yeah, that one.” Sierra, my best friend, leaned in, her eyes wide with gossip. “’Royalty’ means serious money, right?” “Serious,” I confirmed, gesturing vaguely. “His family estate had a private lake on the property. Like, a full-sized, you-can-dock-a-boat lake.” “Holy hell! In The Palisades? That’s more than rich, that’s legacy! Was he good to you?” “He was. Incredibly good. I wouldn’t have finished college without him.” “And, okay, was he hot?” The image of a face, sculpted and precise like a museum piece, flashed through my mind. I nodded. “Put him next to any A-list actor and he’d still win.” That’s the trouble with meeting someone breathtakingly perfect too young. It raises your emotional threshold so high, everything else feels like a compromise. Sierra sighed dramatically. “Rich, gorgeous, and good to you—why on earth did you dump him?” I paused, staring at the condensation on my glass. “It… wasn’t really dumping. You know how those families are. They don’t exactly welcome a girl without the right pedigree into the inner circle.” Brock seemed intrigued. He tossed his phone onto the table and nodded toward the rest of the group. Everyone else here, except Sierra and me from Bay City, were his D.C. friends. They caught his meaning immediately. With knowing glances, they filed out to the downstairs card room. It was just the three of us on the rooftop patio. Brock poured me another drink. “Spill it. Did his mother try to buy you off?” I shook my head. Not quite. A woman in Eleanor Caldwell’s position wouldn’t bother with clumsy tactics. She simply forced me to face reality. It was right before graduation. Holden had planned a trip for us and asked where I wanted to go. I’d seen videos of Iceland’s volcanoes and glaciers on my feed and was excitedly showing him when I heard him on the phone. His tone was tight, edged with a barely contained frustration. “I’ve been too busy lately, I can’t make it back.” … “She’s busy, too. Internships, final papers—she has a lot on her plate.” … “If this is all you’re going to talk about, don’t call me again.” He hung up and turned, catching my eye. The panic he tried to mask by quickly lowering his gaze didn’t escape me. I asked tentatively, “Was that your family?” “Yeah.” “Should you go back and check on them?” “No need.” He saw my phone screen and instantly changed the subject. “So, have you decided where you want to go?” We had just settled on Iceland when a car pulled up next to me on my walk home from my internship. The tinted window slid down, revealing a face of bright, cold elegance. “Miss King, hello. I’m Holden’s mother.” I quickly clocked the license plate—the kind of tag that screamed power, not just wealth. Mrs. Caldwell smiled. “Don’t look so nervous. I just wanted to take you to a quick dinner. I mentioned it to Holden, but he insisted you were too busy, so I decided to invite you myself.” I stayed rooted to the spot, reaching for my phone to call Holden. “Holden is tied up with business right now. Best not to bother him with a trivial matter like this.” With a subtle nod, two large men rushed out. One took my phone, the other ‘escorted’ me into the car. I had no choice but to go. The Caldwell estate was in The Palisades. Through the intricate lattice window, I could see their private lake. I realized then that his family was far wealthier and more entrenched than I had ever imagined. Another woman was sitting in the parlor. Mrs. Caldwell’s lips curved into a cordial smile as she introduced us. “Miss Reed, this is Alexandra Reed, Holden’s fiancée.” My heart plummeted. I stared at the woman, whose quiet confidence and reserved elegance mirrored Holden’s own aristocratic bearing. When did this happen? How had I missed every sign? Noticing my ashen face, Mrs. Caldwell’s smile deepened. “Did Holden not tell you? It was settled ages ago.” “Well, of course, he wouldn’t tell you. There’s no need to share that kind of detail with an outsider.” She left me standing there and swept over to greet Miss Reed. “This is the girl Holden’s been keeping on the side? She’s certainly pretty enough.” Mrs. Caldwell conceded, as if giving praise. “The girl has ambition, I’ll give her that. She’s slated to be her class valedictorian. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have caught Holden’s eye.” Miss Reed gave me a cool, dismissive glance. “I heard her family is from the Appalachian South? How did they meet? Is her background… clear?” “Rest assured, Holden doesn’t mess around. There’s a backstory involved; that’s why I’ve let it go on this long.” “Holden’s father, before he passed, was on a fly-fishing trip and fell, breaking his leg. This girl, she ran down the mountain to call for help. He gave her his card and told her to call if she ever needed anything. She never did, until she was finally old enough to be trapped by her family, who were trying to force her into a marriage for the dowry.” “She called the number out of desperation, and Holden picked up. Lucky girl. He started sponsoring her after that. Then she came to D.C. for college, they finally met face-to-face, and the rest is… this.” Miss Reed managed a thin smile. “Such a deep history with Holden. It makes me feel like the interloper.” Mrs. Caldwell chuckled softly. “Girls from that background, they’re always a little grasping. But you, Alexandra, you have grace and appropriate reserve. Holden knows that, too. Why else would he keep her hidden, never daring to introduce her publicly?” “I can’t control the past. But since the engagement is now being finalized, how does Holden plan to dispose of her?” Mrs. Caldwell remained calm and composed. “Holden has been supporting her for years. If she’s a girl who understands gratitude, she’ll know what to do. If not, I am here. This is a small matter I can handle myself. I won’t need to trouble Holden.” Every word was delivered clearly, plunging like ice picks into my chest. A sudden, dizzying wave of nausea hit me. So that was the source of Holden’s panic. He was getting married, and he didn’t know how to tell me. The line of bodyguards behind me felt like a concrete wall, preventing any chance of a dignified, or even panicked, escape. Miss Reed’s face softened slightly. “With you handling it, Mother Caldwell, I feel much better. Oh, by the way, I picked up a few bottles of Pingus in Spain last month. I thought you might want to try one.” The deal was done. Mrs. Caldwell smiled and signaled the butler to serve the meal. “Tonight’s main course is fish. River trout, prepared by a chef flown in from New York….” They continued their polite small talk. I managed to hold my composure, stood up, and excused myself. Mrs. Caldwell gave me a cold, level look. “Since Miss King doesn’t care for our company, I won’t insist.” This time, the bodyguards didn’t stop me. I went back to the apartment and started packing. I had to figure out my next move. Holden had bought this condo when I started my internship to make my commute easier. Now, with the breakup, I had no reason to stay. Housing wouldn’t be a problem. I was graduating in two months, and I could apply for company housing early. Iceland was out. I told myself it was too cold anyway, and there was nothing to see. I had kept a meticulous log of every dollar Holden had given me. I planned to organize the records and pay back whatever I could immediately. The rest, I would save up and send in installments. Surely, given our history, he wouldn’t be so heartless as to demand immediate payment the second we broke up. What else? I started a list of everything I needed to separate from Holden. The list grew longer and longer. My composure finally shattered when my eyes fell on the ring on my finger. He had given me that ring, promising we would marry right after graduation. I sank to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. My fingers were shaking so badly I tried several times but couldn’t pull the ring off. The electronic lock beeped. The front door was wrenched open. Holden’s chest was heaving, his knuckles white. Seeing me still there, he took a deep breath, quietly closed the door, and walked in. He began taking the clothes I had stuffed into the suitcase and hanging them back in the closet. I took them down. He put them back up. After a few repeats, I exploded. I roughly shoved the clothes back into the bag. “Holden Caldwell, we’re done.” He was silent for a long moment, then spoke. “I don’t love Alexandra Reed, and I never agreed to marry her.” “That was their decision, not mine.” I ignored him, continuing to pack. He leaned in, his hand pressing down on mine. “Adora. I love you.” I froze, finally meeting his gaze. His eyes were bloodshot. I also saw the wine stains on his chest. His face was flushed, and there was a faint, angry red mark—a handprint—on his cheek. In that moment, my concern for him eclipsed my own pain. I reached up, touching his face, forcing a bright, broken smile. “Holden, I’m fine. I was the one who benefited most from these years. You… you should just listen to your family. Marry Miss Reed…” He pulled me roughly into his arms, crushing my waist. “I won’t do it. No one can force me.” His voice caught, his throat working several times. “Adora King, we are not breaking up. I can handle this. Trust me.” The embrace felt like an anchor. Holding Holden, I suddenly felt less consumed by self-doubt. The situation wasn’t yet beyond saving. Mrs. Caldwell hadn’t managed to convince Holden, so she came after me instead. I thought for a moment, then nodded. “Okay.” “We’ll stick to the plan. We’ll go to Iceland soon.” “Okay.” But faster than the trip to Iceland came his transfer notice. When I rushed home after getting the news, Holden had already packed his things. Two familiar bodyguards stood behind him. My eyes instantly welled up. “Why would you be transferred out of Capitol City? Is this because of me?” He set down his bag and held me, murmuring reassurances. “Don’t cry. It’s a normal organization shuffle. I’ll be back in two years.” I hiccupped, my voice ragged. “Where… where are they sending you?” He lowered his head, silently speaking the name of a town. I’d never heard of it. I pulled out my phone and searched. A remote, desolate little town, thousands of miles from D.C. Wickham County, Wyoming. Surrounded by mountains. To get to the town from the county seat, you had to transfer three times. I instantly understood. This was his mother’s warning shot. I trembled and pushed him away, tears streaming down my face. “Go back to The Palisades now. Go back and tell her you agree to her arrangement. It’s just a political marriage! You can…” “Adora!” Holden cut me off with a sharp voice. “I don’t care about the career hit. Are you going to abandon me over it?” In the two years we’d been together, he had never spoken to me with such severity. I knew he was genuinely angry. I’d hesitated when Holden first confessed to me. Our relationship was already unequal; I owed him too much, and mixing love into it felt wrong. But he was a stubborn man. He only asked if I loved him. He was the gentleman who saved me from my dire circumstances. How could I not love him? He sighed in relief back then. “I love you, and you love me. There’s no better reason to be together.” I’d slowly come to believe that as long as two people were in love, nothing else mattered. Until I met Alexandra Reed. The easy confidence and security that only generations of wealth and privilege can breed. It was something I could never possess. Crying, I whispered, “I’m sorry. But I truly don’t want to be the thing that destroys your future.” He took a deep breath, softening his tone. “You aren’t destroying anything. I’ve wanted to break free of my mother for years. This is my best chance. I have to go. Will you wait for me?” I couldn’t speak. “Will you wait for me?” He lifted my chin, forcing me to meet his eyes, demanding an answer. “…Yes.” His eyes red, he pulled me against him and kissed my forehead. “Infrastructure is bad out there. Cell service is spotty. If you miss me, write me a letter.” “Okay.” “Be a good girl and wait for me here. Just two years.” 2 That was the last time we saw each other. A month after Holden left, I received his letter. He wrote that he was doing well. It was remote, but the people were kind, and the scenery was beautiful. He occasionally went to the villagers’ homes to teach the kids to read. Adora, work hard, live well, and don’t think about anything else. In two years, I’ll come back and marry you. Mrs. Caldwell found me again. Her expression was laden with veiled meaning. “Don’t think you’ve won.” “Today, he’s willing to sacrifice his career for you. But look again in three or five years.” “When others with less talent and less pedigree are climbing higher than him, he’ll blame you. He’ll resent you for not being decisive enough to leave, for holding him back.” “You think love can conquer all? You’re wrong. Eventually, you will only look at each other with contempt.” I couldn’t find a single argument to refute her. It was almost summer, but a chilling cold crept up my spine and spread through my entire body. I managed to drag myself home. An unexpected person was waiting by the door. Alexandra Reed tossed several photos onto the passenger seat and asked, “Want to see Holden Caldwell? I’ll take you.” D.C. to Wickham County, thousands of miles. Hours on a plane. After we landed, Miss Reed’s driver took us the rest of the way in a four-wheel-drive SUV, deep into the mountains. The car stopped after a long drive. Alexandra pointed to a cluster of people by a shallow creek below. “There. Holden’s down there.” I remembered the first time I saw Holden. Broad shoulders, lean waist, standing outside our university gate in a perfectly tailored suit, pristine down to the crease in his trousers. A man so striking he was impossible to ignore even in a crowd. Now, I pressed against the window, straining to recognize him. He was sunburned. He was wrestling a hog with a few local farmers. He was clearly inexperienced and had been knocked around a few times. His trousers were muddy, his shirt wrinkled and dirty. He looked exactly like the man in the photos Alexandra had shown me: dusty and disheveled. For the first time, I thought he looked pathetic. My nose burned, and tears silently ran down my face. How could he let himself look so beaten down? Alexandra sounded genuinely wistful. “Holden was the most promising of his generation among the Capitol City legacy families. My father even said Holden would likely surpass his mother’s accomplishments.” “Eleanor Caldwell didn’t get where she is by being soft-hearted. She will not compromise just because Holden is struggling.” “I’m telling you plainly: if he keeps acting like this, Mrs. Caldwell will abandon him completely.” She rolled down the window and lit a cigarette. “Honestly, Adora, I didn’t want to come between you two. But I’ve enjoyed my family’s privileges for too long to flip the table when they need me for a strategic marriage.” “Holden just doesn’t understand that. He flipped the table completely. But what’s the result?” “He was so successful in D.C. Everyone vying to be in his orbit. Now he’s stuck here, chasing pigs today, looking for lost dogs tomorrow. Do you really want to watch him do this?” “I don’t love him, so I don’t understand. Is love truly more important than a man’s future? If you think so, you can go down and find him now. A man abandoned by Eleanor Caldwell is not a man my family needs for an alliance.” I held onto the window frame, my fingers trembling uncontrollably. In the distance, Holden and the villagers finally subdued the hog. The farmers trussed it up and carried it away. Holden remained behind, bent over, hands on his knees. He looked like a bamboo stalk that had been pressed too hard. After regaining his breath, he slowly started to follow them. A few steps later, Holden suddenly lifted his head and looked directly in our direction. The hill was heavily treed. He didn’t see the car. He turned and continued walking. The sun was setting. I pulled back from the window and said quietly, “Miss Reed, let’s go back.” “Are you sure?” “…Thank you for bringing me.” Alexandra didn’t say another word, signaling the driver to move. She had the answer she came for. In the rearview mirror, Holden’s figure grew smaller and smaller. The mountain air pouring through the window was chilling. The car rounded a bend. The remote village disappeared completely. I closed my eyes, the cold air seeping into my temples. I returned to D.C., and it took me two days to pack my entire life. Before leaving, I cleaned the condo until it was immaculate, as if I had never lived there. As the train pulled away toward Bay City, I thought the breakup letter must be arriving soon. Everything related to Holden Caldwell ended that summer. For the next six years, I heard or saw nothing of him. I worked, I started a company, I focused on surviving. I rarely had spare time. I occasionally dreamt of him. I’d wake up and just stare blankly. The longing was a long, endless rainy season. I couldn’t seem to dry out the part of my heart that belonged to Holden. For years, I regretted it. If only we had said a proper goodbye. The patio lapsed into a strained silence. I wiped my tears away and repeatedly apologized. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t be a downer on your wedding weekend.” Brock stared at me for a moment. He picked up the bottle and poured me another drink. “This is a truth night, Adora. Drink whatever you want. I’ve got the liquor covered.” Sierra glared at him. “Tomorrow is the wedding. If she gets wasted, where am I going to find a maid of honor? There’s no time!” “Relax, honey. I’ll handle everything, okay? Adora, seriously, though… do you still love him? Do you still want to be with him?” I tilted my head, thinking hard, and nodded. “I do.” Then I shook my head. “But we can’t be together.” He was probably married with kids by now. Even if he wasn’t, the problems that existed six years ago were still there. Six years wasn’t enough time for me to forget reality. The evening breeze slipped through the patio door. It was humid, warm, and gentle, like a lover’s caress—a characteristic D.C. spring night. The warm air combined with the alcohol was intoxicating. I quickly became dizzy. In my haze, I heard someone on the phone. The voice was distant and loud, filled with bizarre excitement. “I’m giving you a chance, get your ass back from The Triangle!” “I swear it’s her! The real one!” “If I’m lying, you can call me Dad!”

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The seventh time Maya stood me up at City Hall, I decided to cut her out of my life for good. If she was at a party, I wasn’t. When she was invited to perform at our university reunion, I left before she took the stage. When my company decided to partner with hers, I quit on the spot. Even on New Year’s Eve, when she came to my parents’ house, I made an excuse about visiting friends and walked out the door. I blocked her number, unfriended her on everything, and went completely scorched earth. No contact from me, no access to me. A clean break. For the better part of the last thirty years, my life had revolved around loving her, taking care of her, obsessing over her. It wasn’t until she left me waiting for our marriage license for the seventh time that I finally woke up. I didn’t want this life anymore. Being alone was better than spending my nights in an empty house, waiting for someone who would never truly be there. … I sat at the marriage bureau in City Hall, waiting for Maya, until the last employee started packing up to leave. At first, when I called, she just said she was busy and told me to wait. Two hours later, her phone went straight to voicemail. A constant, busy tone. The marriage application in my hand was crumpled into a tight, wrinkled ball. “Sir,” a clerk said gently, seeing me still sitting there, “we’re closing now. Did you still need to file for a license?” I snapped back to the present and shook my head. “Thank you, but no. Not anymore.” As I walked out, I overheard a few of the clerks whispering as they passed. “I think I’ve seen that guy a few times. Always comes in alone to get married.” “Now that you mention it, I remember him too. Always waiting for someone who never shows up, right?” My face was a mask of indifference, but inside, my heart felt like it had been shredded. I couldn’t look up, my shame a physical weight. I just walked faster. This was the seventh time. The seventh time I had come to City Hall to marry Maya. Just as I stepped outside to hail a cab, she appeared. She was jogging toward me, slightly out of breath, a practiced look of apology on her face. “Leo, I am so, so sorry. Something came up at work last minute. I’m not too late, am I?” I let out a silent, bitter laugh. The last time, it was work. The time before that, it was also work. It was always work. She couldn’t even be bothered to come up with a new excuse. I just shook my head. “You’re too late. They just locked up.” Maya’s expression shifted to one of indignation. She glanced at her watch and then gestured angrily toward the building. “Can you believe these people? They have to leave the second the clock strikes five. Can’t even wait one extra minute.” She stepped forward and took my hand, placing it on her chest, which was rising and falling dramatically. “The traffic was a nightmare. I had to run the last few blocks. Look, I’m exhausted.” I stared at her, a lump forming in my throat. I wasn’t an idiot. I knew whether she had been running or not. Biting my lip, I asked her the question I’d never dared to ask before. “If you really ran all this way, why isn’t there a single drop of sweat on you?” Her forehead was perfectly clear. Not just dry, but completely untouched by any hint of exertion. The moment the words left my mouth, her face changed. Her brows knitted together, her eyes flashing with anger. Her voice rose. “What is that supposed to mean? Are you saying I’m lying? That I’m intentionally avoiding marrying you?” She pulled her hand back. “I ran all this way, and this is what I get? Disbelief? Leo, I never knew you could be so cruel!” She was a master at turning the tables. But her hysterical rage just screamed guilt. I rubbed my temples, suddenly tired of the fight, tired of her. “Maya, you and I both know the truth.” I turned to leave. Her voice, cold and sharp, cut through the air behind me. “Fine. Be that way. But don’t you dare come crying back to me. Don’t you dare crawl back and beg me to marry you again!” She laughed, a harsh, grating sound. “Let’s just see how long you last this time!” I didn’t turn back. I just kept walking, my lip bleeding from how hard I was biting it. A moment later, my phone buzzed with a text. [Leo, did you strike out again? What a shame. Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll be back for an eighth try soon!] I read the message three times. Even I wasn’t dense enough to miss the taunt. I’d suspected the reason for Maya’s no-shows, but seeing the text from Julian still felt like a punch to the gut, leaving me breathless. Maya and I were childhood sweethearts. From the time we were kids, I had sworn I would marry her. Our parents had laughed and encouraged it. She had always treated me with a unique closeness. That is, until college, when she brought another guy home for the first time. Julian. Seeing them together, the way they interacted, I realized with a dawning horror that what Maya felt for me might not be love. I panicked. The day we graduated, I half-jokingly suggested we go get married. Our parents were thrilled, but Maya turned me down flat. Over the next eight years, I must have asked her dozens of times. She only agreed on seven occasions. And every single one of them ended like this. And every single time, without fail, a taunting message from Julian would arrive moments later. My phone buzzed again. Assuming it was him, I was about to decline the call when I saw the name. It was my best friend, Chloe. She was inviting me to a party tonight. The first words out of my mouth were, “Is Maya going to be there?” “Don’t worry, Leo. I know how things are. I already told her about it, and she said she’s coming!” “Then count me out. If she’s there, I’m not. Maybe next time.” Chloe went silent on the other end of the line, completely stunned. Everyone knew. For years, I was the one who chased after Maya. I was the one who showed up at her graduation with a ridiculous bouquet, who agonized over finding her the perfect job, who cleaned her apartment and cooked her meals like a devoted lapdog. Once, at a friend’s birthday, someone joked that Maya must have saved a country in a past life to deserve me. Maya just scoffed. “He’s like a stray dog that won’t go away. It’s annoying. Who cares?” Back then, I didn’t. I thought I could change her. Now, I did. After hanging up, I sent a group text to all my close friends. [From now on, if Maya’s going to be at a get-together, please don’t invite me.] With that done, I finally hailed a cab home. I showered and then began gathering everything in my apartment that belonged to Maya. I packed it all into a suitcase and called a courier to have it delivered to her place. Just as the courier arrived, Chloe showed up, having heard the news. She saw the packed suitcase and her eyes widened. “Leo, you’re not leaving, are you?” I laughed and opened the suitcase for her. “What are you talking about? This is all Maya’s stuff. I’m sending it back.” Chloe stared for a moment, then watched the courier leave. She turned back to me, her expression one of disbelief. “But Leo, you were supposed to get married today. What happened…?” She trailed off, the realization dawning on her. She knew about all the other times. Her eyes narrowed. “Did she stand you up again? That text you sent… it has to be Julian behind this, doesn’t it? Come on, we’re going to go find her and get this sorted out, right now!” I tried to refuse, but she dragged me out of the apartment and all the way to the bar where the party was being held. We were just outside the private room when we heard Maya’s voice, loud and clear. “Oh, stop it, you guys. How many times has Leo thrown a fit and sworn he’s done? He always comes back. He can’t live without me.” She laughed. “He’s just sulking right now. Give him a day or two, and he’ll be back at my feet like always.” I bit the inside of my cheek, the metallic taste of blood filling my mouth. All these years, I had poured my heart and soul into caring for her, and this is what she thought of me. Worthless. Chloe saw the tears welling in my eyes and squeezed my shoulder. She was about to shove the door open, but I stopped her. At this point, I didn’t even want to see Maya’s face. I pulled Chloe away. As we rounded the corner, the door to the room opened, and Maya and Julian stepped out. Julian spoke first. “Maya, you’ve had too much to drink. You shouldn’t say things like that. What if little Leo hears you? You’ll break his heart.” “Isn’t his broken heart exactly what you want?” Maya slurred, leaning against him. “Making me agree to marry him, then making me stand him up at the last second. Julian, you’re so wicked!” The words hit me, and the tears I’d been holding back finally fell. So that’s what I was. A clown. A pawn in their twisted game. No wonder she’d never seemed happy or excited any of the times she’d agreed to marry me. I was just too blinded by my own joy to notice the contempt in her eyes. Julian wrapped an arm around her, playfully tapping her on the chest. “What do you mean, I’m wicked? This whole thing was your idea in the first place!” “Well, I was just trying to make you happy! It was the only thing I could think of!” They were laughing now, and then, right there in the hallway, they started kissing. I felt like my soul had left my body. I numbly pulled Chloe out of the bar and into the cool night air. The wind felt like it was freezing my heart solid. “Leo, you’re just too good,” Chloe seethed. “That’s why those two monsters think they can play with you like this!” She was still fuming, but I just managed a weak smile. When I opened my mouth to speak, the taste of blood was overwhelming. “It’s over. From now on, Maya and I have nothing to do with each other.” After finally convincing Chloe to go home, I went back to my apartment. On the way, the courier called. He was at the designated address, but the recipient wasn’t answering her phone. I’d forgotten—Maya never answered calls from unknown numbers. I told him to wait, hung up, and dialed her number myself. I could hear the loud music of a bar in the background, but her smug tone was unmistakable. “Well, well, look who came crawling back. Where’s all that courage you had when you stormed off and left me on the street earlier?” The old me would have apologized profusely, groveled, said anything to make her happy. The new me just said, flatly, “I had your things sent to your apartment. They’re at your door. You should probably go get them.” Her voice became even more triumphant. “Oh, Leo, what did you buy me this time? Trying to get back in my good graces?” She laughed. “Weren’t you the one who sent that dramatic text to all our friends? The one who wouldn’t even be in the same room as me? And now here you are, already trying to suck up.” I didn’t say another word. I just hung up. As the call disconnected, I thought I heard her ask what I’d sent her, saying she’d have to see if she liked it before she decided whether or not to forgive me. I just shook my head and smiled. After all those years of being her doormat, she really did think I had no dignity left. That was fine. She would learn. After that night, I had no more contact with Maya. Her number, her social media—all of it deleted. When friends invited me out, I always asked beforehand if she would be there. Eventually, they got the message and would only invite one of us at a time. Soon, it was the day before our university’s anniversary celebration. Chloe had already called to make plans. As a distinguished alumnus, I had received a formal invitation. I hadn’t expected Maya to be there too. But it made sense. She was always a top student, and her company had provided a lot of support to the university after graduation. Of course they’d invite her. When Chloe and I arrived, the campus was packed. I glanced at the program and saw her name immediately. She was the seventh performance. After the sixth act, I made an excuse and left. As I was walking out of the auditorium, I thought I heard someone call my name, but I didn’t look back. A moment later, I got a text from my old college advisor. [Leo, why did you leave in such a hurry? I called out to you a few times. Your girlfriend’s performance is next, aren’t you staying to watch?] [Thank you, Professor, but I had to leave for an emergency. And I’m single. I don’t have a girlfriend!] I sent the text and shook my head. I had been so obsessed in college that even my advisor knew our story. What I didn’t know was that my advisor was standing right next to Maya when he sent that text. And that she saw my reply. In the dim light of the auditorium, her expression was unreadable. After leaving campus, I headed to my office. I’d been in such a rush to leave the reunion that I’d forgotten my bag. When I got there, I saw a new project proposal sitting on my desk. The name of the partner company on the proposal was Maya’s. I immediately called my boss, confirmed the partnership, and then resigned. “Boss, I need to resign for personal reasons.” “Leo, this is so sudden! I was about to put you in charge of this new project.” “Thank you, sir, but I can’t. I don’t get along with that company.” After the call, I typed up my resignation letter. If the company was going to work with Maya, the best way to avoid her was to leave. I left the letter on my desk and walked out. When I got back to my apartment building, I noticed the light in the hallway was on. My floor only has two apartments, and the one next to mine was vacant. The light was almost never on. As I got closer, I saw her. Maya was standing in the stairwell, smoking. The floor around her was littered with cigarette butts. She must have been waiting for a long time. Luckily, I was quiet. She didn’t see me. I immediately turned and hit the elevator button. Just as the doors were closing, she must have heard the sound and stepped out of the stairwell. I could faintly hear her yelling. “Leo, is that you? I know you’re back! You’re in that elevator, aren’t you!” As the elevator descended, to buy myself some time, I pressed the button for every single floor on my way down and then hopped out, letting it ascend on its own slow journey. It was a jerk move, but it worked. With Maya camping outside my apartment, I went to a nearby hotel for the night. I had just checked in and was heading up the stairs when she burst through the front door. She was panting, sweat dripping from her forehead, her face flushed from exertion. “Did someone just check in?” she demanded of the front desk clerk. “Was it a man named Leo?” “Answer me! You have to tell me!”

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My fiancé always targets the poor boy I sponsor. Pushed back, the boy stumbled, his eyes full of fear and innocence. “Sister, it’s my fault for being clumsy and making your boyfriend angry again.” Suddenly, floating comments appeared before my eyes. [Listen to him lie. Just now he provoked your boyfriend: ‘Can an old man pushing thirty even satisfy my sister?’] [Who are you? Just a toy she plays with when she’s drunk.] [You can tolerate that without hitting me? Are you even a man?] My pupils quaked in disbelief. Who knew that one day, the poor student would actually climb into my bed? He stood before my fiancé, his face full of provocation and satisfaction. “You didn’t have the ability to keep her. Can you blame me?” Chapter 1 As soon as I got out of the car, I saw Liam push Noah, causing him to stumble. A vein throbbed in my temple. I rushed over to help Noah up. “Liam! Why are you always picking on him?!” Noah held me pitifully, his dark eyes misty and shrinking back. “Sister, it’s my fault. I made Liam angry again.” The floating comments spamming my vision were chaotic. [Wow, this kid is a master manipulator. If I wasn’t there, I would’ve been fooled.] [This face-changing skill belongs in the Sichuan Opera.] A VIP comment even popped up a video window. Five minutes ago, Noah had his chin raised, spitting words soft yet venomous. [Who are you? Just a toy she greets when she’s bored and sleeps with when she’s tired.] [You’re thirty. An old man, half in the grave. How can you compete with me?] [You can tolerate that without hitting me? Liam, are you even a man?] No wonder Liam wanted to hit him. I loosened my grip on Noah, but he immediately rubbed against me. Liam’s face was purple with rage, his lips trembling. It took him a long time to speak. “Chloe, he’s twenty-two, not twelve! He’s not a child! You have no idea what he just said to me!” Noah tugged at my sleeve, his eyes full of panic and innocence. “Sis, I really don’t know what I said wrong. Even if I offended Liam, he’s an adult. Couldn’t he reason with me? He just started hitting me!” “Sis, when you have time, you should advise him to see a doctor. An older man being this irritable isn’t good.” I shook off his hand and scolded him to shut up. Noah stood aside reluctantly. Liam had high self-esteem and cared about his image. He definitely couldn’t repeat Noah’s words. I took his hand and looked at him sincerely. “Sorry. If he really said something, don’t take it to heart. I’ll discipline him properly when we get back.” Liam gradually calmed down. “Chloe, he’s an adult who can be held criminally responsible. You can’t let him live with you forever.” Noah truly panicked now. “Liam, what right do you have to dictate my life!” I turned back and glared at him. The comments celebrated. [The little tea bitch messed up! Talked smack and got his base stolen hahahaha!] [Let’s see how he pretends now.] [It’s over. Your sister doesn’t want you anymore!] Back then, Noah came to New York alone for college. He said he was afraid of not getting along with roommates, so he borrowed a room at my place. Later, I got busy with work, so I let him stay wherever. Thinking back, it was indeed my negligence. I nodded to Liam. As I prepared to leave, he tugged at my hem. Liam’s ears turned red as he whispered: “Chloe, I haven’t had my birthday yet this year. I’m only twenty-nine.” Noah snorted coldly. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Chapter 2 I drove Noah home. He kept his head down, quietly playing with his fingers. Just like when he was twelve and met me for the first time—obedient, like a beautiful, hollow doll. My heart ached suddenly. But the comments made me restless. Noah’s arrogant and vicious expression kept flashing in my mind. I thought I had done my best for him, granting his every wish. But when did Noah secretly grow into that person where I couldn’t see? Arriving at the destination, I stopped the car. In the dead silence. Noah spoke first. “Sister, don’t be troubled. I’ll move out.” I choked up for a moment. He lowered his head, tugging at his shirt. Though his words were decisive, the tremor at the end betrayed the boy’s feelings. I almost said forget it. The comments jumped out again. [Okay, okay, playing the pity card, right? Knowing sister is soft-hearted and can’t stand this retreat-to-advance tactic.] [If you really make him move out, he won’t be happy.] [Ignore him! He’s faking it!] The words asking him to stay swirled on my lips before I swallowed them back. “Okay. You can stay in the dorm tonight. Move your things slowly later.” Noah looked up sharply, his face full of confusion and hurt. That night, I tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep, recalling the past. Noah’s mother was deaf-mute, and his father carried cement at construction sites. Though poor, they scraped by. Until an acquaintance introduced them to a pyramid scheme. The couple went all in. Luckily, the police raided the den, saving their lives, but all their money was gone. Noah was nine then. Locked alone at home for two weeks, drinking tap water when thirsty, gnawing on cucumbers when hungry. Later, Noah’s dad got addicted to gambling. The family owed a mountain of debt and was beaten half to death at their door. Later still, one hanged himself, the other jumped into the river. Relatives avoided him like the plague. Noah was sent to an orphanage. I sponsored him from age twelve to eighteen. Noah had high pride; after starting college, he refused to take a penny from me. He was smart, getting into the top university in New York, winning scholarships every year, and wanting to give me all the money. And he was so well-behaved, shyly calling me Sister. I tossed and turned, suspicious of the sudden comments. Should I trust inexplicable floating text over the brother I raised for ten years? Just then, my phone rang abruptly. “Are you Noah’s sister? I’m his roommate. Someone locked him in the equipment room, and his claustrophobia is acting up!” My head exploded with a boom. Chapter 3 When I saw Noah, he was curled up in a corner like a baring-teeth beast, refusing to let anyone near. I had to call him softly. “Noah, I’m here.” His face was pale, his unfocused pupils slightly focusing only when he saw me: “Chloe, you really came to save me.” His breathing was rapid. He couldn’t wait to pounce on me, hugging me, sticky cold sweat staining my neck. Guilt instantly filled my heart. The comments jumped out immediately. [Wow! Has claustrophobia but dares to lock himself in a dark room. What if sister had her phone on Do Not Disturb?] [Acting. Just did a hundred push-ups and soaked himself in cold water.] [Omg, truly a mad dog who can’t leave his sister for a second.] They were lying. Noah is my most obedient brother, not a mad dog. It was 4 or 5 AM when we got home. I settled him down and wrapped myself in the quilt to sleep. When I woke up the next day, toothbrush in mouth, I saw two people sitting in the living room through my blurry eyes. My boyfriend, and the brother I promised my boyfriend I would send away. I calmly locked myself back in the bathroom. Damn, I’m dead. But the comments actively fanned the flames, broadcasting the situation outside with video clips. Liam and Noah were staring each other down. Liam spoke first. “Chloe and I started with free love, not an arranged marriage.” “We are serious about this relationship, and our feelings are stable. So I hope you stop clinging to her.” Noah propped his chin on his hand and smiled. “Liam, look up at this house.” Liam was confused. “What’s your point?” Noah sneered. “Chloe dislikes cold tones, so the curtains are pale pink. She likes wood floors but fears maintenance, so the living room is tiled, wood only in the bedrooms. She loves flowers, so I filled the balcony with azaleas and hydrangeas.” “I bought the furniture. I renovated the house. I bought her bed, the sheets, the pillows, even the body wash and shampoo in the bathroom!” “Chloe can date anyone, but she only comes back to live with me.” “Liam, you’re not her first boyfriend, and you won’t be the last.” “So, what are you posturing about in front of me?” Liam pressed his thin lips tight, suppressing his anger. I slapped my forehead in frustration. When Noah was in high school in New York, I let him live in this apartment. But he said he couldn’t accept it for free. So I had to stay over occasionally to check his homework and assert ownership. Later, when he started college, I got busy. Noah said he wanted to repay me, so he took over cooking lunch and dinner, delivering them in thermal boxes. I thought the delivery was too much trouble for him, so I just came back to eat after work. He said it was troublesome to go elsewhere to sleep after dark, so I just stayed. And stayed until now. What “living together”?! It wasn’t like that at the start! Noah wasn’t done. He looked at Liam provocatively. “Oh right, do you know her phone password? Since you respect each other so much, you must respect privacy, right?” “But I know it.” “Want to hit me again? Don’t hold back. She’ll feel sorry for me.” Liam was calm this time. “Don’t you know? Chloe and I are engaged.” “So we aren’t just boyfriend and girlfriend. I’m her fiancé.” “And after we marry, she won’t live in this house anymore.” Chapter 4 The comments gloated. [Shocking! Roles reversed! The main wife becomes the mistress!] [Hahahaha Noah is truly broken now. This kid is grinding his teeth to dust while forcing a smile.] [Main wife Liam is almost thirty but still charming, mistress Noah is full of style and pitiable. I say take them both!] Seeing the comments getting more ridiculous, I couldn’t hide anymore. Noah’s words terrified me; I didn’t want to think deeper. I chased them out as soon as I emerged. “Don’t you two have serious things to do? Stop hanging around here.” Noah stared straight at me, his black eyes full of panic and helplessness, like a desperate gambler on a cliff’s edge. “Chloe, are you engaged?” Burned by his gaze, I looked away. “No manners. Call me Sister. This is between us; don’t worry about it blindly.” Noah pushed the door open and left. Liam sat on the sofa without a word. I had to coax the one in front of me first. Liam and I started after a drunken night. Though not a fairytale beginning, Liam was considerate, had a model’s body, was great in bed, and our thinking matched perfectly. Dating him was a natural progression. I leaned on his shoulder. “Is Young Master Sterling angry?” Liam had long eyes and long lashes. They fluttered beautifully when he was emotional. Liam sighed. “Chloe, do you really not understand?” “When we were on a business trip, Noah deliberately walked in the rain to find you, used a high fever to cling to you all night, and constantly provoked me and declared sovereignty in front of me.” “These things have long exceeded the feelings a brother should have. Chloe, do you really not understand at all?”

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I always thought Liam hated my guts. That’s why, when I was dragged into a dead-end alley by a gang of thugs, I didn’t even call him for help. I was sent to the hospital covered in bruises and blood. The doctor asked me sympathetically if I had any last words for my family. “Tell Liam Sterling I’m dying, and I won’t bother him anymore.” Three years into our marriage, Liam had asked for a divorce 99 times. He even drugged me and sent me to another man’s bed just to get rid of me. My death would finally set him free. But I never expected what happened next. At my funeral, Liam, eyes bloodshot, decapitated those thugs to bury with me. His hands stained with blood, he threw away his cancer diagnosis with trembling fingers. Then, he swallowed a whole bottle of sleeping pills and lay quietly in my coffin. “Cece, I’m coming with you.” When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Liam asked for a divorce for the 99th time. He looked down, tossing the divorce papers at me. “My new girl is pregnant. She’s demanding a title. Don’t be a dog in the manger. Just sign it.” I tore the papers to shreds without hesitation. Red-eyed, I hugged him tight. “Bullshit! You didn’t tell me you were sick. Do you think dying alone in silence makes you cool?” … Liam was stunned, looking up at me. A flicker of light appeared in his beautiful eyes, then quickly faded. He lit a cigarette, sitting lazily on the sofa, sneering. “Cece, you’ve been watching too many soap operas, haven’t you?” His smile was indifferent as he deliberately blew a smoke ring into my face. “I got bored of you a long time ago.” “Our relationship is dead. Let’s part on good terms and make room for my new love.” The strong smell of smoke assaulted my nose. It made me want to cough. I had to admit, Liam knew me well. He knew I hated the smell of smoke, so he deliberately used it to provoke me when asking for a divorce. I printed out the digital copy of his cancer diagnosis. Red-eyed, I threw it at him. “Then tell me, what is this?” His gaze slowly fell on the paper, his expression blank, devoid of emotion. After a long while, he scoffed. He tore it into pieces. “Where did you forge this fake medical report? Late-stage cancer? Cece, if you don’t want a divorce, just say so. Why curse me?” He threw his hand up, and the paper scraps fell like snow. Liam was done. “If you tore up the divorce agreement, there are more. When you figure it out, print one and sign it yourself.” “My girl is waiting for our date. I don’t have time for you.” With a lazy expression, he got up to leave. I hesitated for two seconds, then chased after him. “Liam Sterling, don’t think you can get rid of me.” “You want a divorce? I won’t sign. Let’s see what you can do about it.” I started playing the rogue. Liam paused, leaving two cold words: “Suit yourself.” So, I started my shameless stalking mode. When Liam went to a company meeting, I waited at the office entrance. When he drove to date his new love, I took a taxi to tail him. “Driver, can you go faster? Follow that car in front.” The driver glanced at me in the rearview mirror. “Miss, that young couple looks so in love. Why are you stalking them?” I gritted my teeth. “That man is my husband.” The driver immediately looked sympathetic, straightened up, and patted his chest. “Don’t worry. I guarantee we won’t lose them.” They stopped at the entrance of a shopping mall. 2 Liam got out first, went around, and opened the passenger door. A young girl threw herself into his arms. Talking and laughing, they walked into the mall arm in arm. I bit my lip. Even knowing he was acting, my heart still stung. I remembered in my past life, Liam provoked me like this too. To rush me into agreeing to the divorce. He even brought the girl to our marital bed, stripped naked, and cuddled with her to show off their love to me. That was when my heart completely died. I signed the divorce papers, ready to move out and find a place, but I was dragged into a dead-end alley by a group of thugs. They humiliated me, treating me roughly like a toy. Severe pain shot through me as they tore out half my hair. My teeth felt like they were knocked out because they smashed my head with a brick from the roadside. Dizzy and dazed, I remembered the year our love was purest. Liam held me gently and set his number as the emergency contact on my phone. “Cece, if you’re in danger, call me first. I’ll always be there.” I struggled to find Liam’s number, but hesitated the moment I was about to dial. I remembered his disgusted look. Maybe he was flirting with his new love and didn’t want to be disturbed by me. Later, even when I was bruised all over, sent to the hospital, and critically ill, I still didn’t contact Liam. It became our eternal farewell. Now, across an intersection, Liam had his arm around the girl’s waist, chuckling in her ear, saying something. He glanced in my direction occasionally. I steeled my heart, got out of the car, and rushed toward them. Sensing my blatant stare, Liam and the girl paused, looking back at me strangely. “Babe, didn’t you say you’d divorce that old hag at home soon? Why is she chasing us again?” Liam’s gaze slowly fell on me, frowning, but he said nothing. He seemed to be waiting for an explanation from me. I smiled and shrugged. “Don’t mind me. Carry on.” I remembered Liam’s new love. Her name was Ivy. She looked innocent and cute, completely different from a shrew like me. Since six months ago, when Liam started frequently asking for a divorce, he was with Ivy every time he stayed out all night. Seeing me sticking to them like a band-aid. Ivy felt uncomfortable, frequently looking back at me. She hugged Liam’s arm and whined. “Babe, is your wife crazy?” “Why does she keep following us? Is she sick?” Liam finally couldn’t take it anymore, turning back to stare at me coldly. “Cece, you’re scaring my girl.” He shielded her behind him, afraid I would hurt her. But six years ago. He shielded me just like this, regardless of everything. He watched the stars with me, went to the desert with me, and saved the last sip of water for me when we were dying of thirst. Even when I was entangled with my ex-boyfriend and betrayed him many times. He still loved me. In my past life, I couldn’t understand. Could such a devoted person suddenly change his heart? So I went crazy, aiming my jealous gaze at that young, beautiful girl, Ivy. Jealousy makes people mad. It blinded me to Liam’s intentions. But now I knew the whole story. I crossed my arms, admiring Liam’s acting, and suddenly laughed. “Liam, your acting is still a bit lacking. Trying to fool me is actually kind of hard.” 3 Liam withdrew his gaze, saying nothing. He lowered his head and kissed Ivy on the lips. The girl blushed instantly, looking up at him shyly, her eyes full of joy. I froze in place, my face pale. Liam looked at me with a calculating gaze, naturally putting his arm around the girl’s waist. “Do you still think I’m acting now?” He even pulled up a hotel reservation on his phone and shoved it in my face. “Look clearly. I really fell in love with someone else. I changed.” “Cece, stop thinking I’m putting on a show for you. It makes you look narcissistic.” Seeing my silence, Liam invited me with a half-smile. “We’re getting a room tonight. If you’re interested, want to come watch?” Red-eyed with anger, I ran away on the spot. Seeing me storm into a taxi and disappear completely from the street. Liam withdrew his gaze, expressionlessly letting go of Ivy. “I’ll have the driver take you back.” Ivy’s rosy face turned pale instantly. She bit her lip hard, timidly tugging at Liam’s cuff. “Didn’t you promise to go shopping with me? And tonight we were going to…” Seeing Liam’s cold face, the girl’s voice grew smaller and smaller. “Miss Ivy, she’s gone. No need to act anymore.” “I’ll settle today’s fee as planned. Go shopping by yourself.” Hiding around the corner, I saw this scene and smirked. Liam didn’t know I was this smart. I pretended to get into the taxi, went a bit down the road, and had the driver turn back. I wanted to see with my own eyes how they would wrap this up. I thought they were really going to get a room, film a video, or even livestream it for me. Turns out Liam only had these few tricks. When Liam turned to leave, his face was a bit pale. His hand clutched his abdomen, making my face change drastically. No wonder he looked like he was holding on just now. Was the illness acting up? However, Ivy knew none of this. Still immersed in sadness, she turned alone to walk into the mall. “Ivy.” I called out to her. “Why is it you again?” The girl looked back in surprise. “How do you know my name?” I held my head high, smiling as I handed her the documents from the private investigator. “I know everything. Liam is sick, late-stage cancer. He didn’t want to drag me down, so he hired you to act and force me into a divorce.” Guilt surfaced on Ivy’s face. She stammered, “You’re lying! Liam and I are real. Otherwise, how would I be pregnant with his child?” She placed her hand gently on her swollen belly. There was clearly a little life in there. My smile deepened. “That child is your boyfriend’s, right? Definitely not Liam’s.” “Because he has never touched you.” The girl’s face turned as pale as paper. “How… how do you know all this?” In my past life, that girl came to find me, crying and saying Liam coughed up blood, asking me to go see him. She said the person Liam loved had always been me. Immersed in the anger and jealousy of betrayal, I thought she was taunting me. My gaze fell on her belly, my tone sharp. “If he really liked me, how could he get you pregnant?” “He hates my guts, right?” “I’ll agree to divorce him. You two dogs deserve each other.” Later I learned, that was the worst time Liam coughed up blood. He dyed the whole bathtub red. 4 He was sent to the hospital by his assistant. The assistant cried his eyes out, saying he wanted to call me. But he was stopped by Liam’s weak hand. “Don’t… don’t disturb her.” “She should forget me and have a new life.” In my past life, I didn’t know until after I died that Liam never betrayed me. He hid his love very, very deep. Even forcing me to divorce him before his death, he was doing everything he could to pave the way for my future. He was so good. How could I fail him? I took out a bank card and handed it to Ivy. “If I’m not wrong, you took this job because you needed money.” “Ivy, whatever Liam pays you, I’ll give you double. Only one condition—” “Next time Liam calls you, refuse him.” No one hates money. Ivy hesitated, took the bank card, and agreed. As I was leaving, she called out to me. “Cece, Liam really loves you. You’re very lucky.” “I also think, even if he only has a few months left, you should be together properly, spending every precious minute and second.” I smiled at her and turned to leave. Having handled all this, I took a taxi home, wanting to clarify things with Liam. I wasn’t afraid of him being a burden at all. I loved him. Even if only one day of life remained, I wanted to be with him. But I searched every room in the villa and didn’t see Liam. I called his assistant, who said he didn’t know either. Liam didn’t let the driver follow him and went out alone. Panicked and scared, afraid he had an accident alone outside, I searched for him like a madwoman. I searched all his favorite places, but no one was there. Until I went to the place we first met. Liam was indeed there. He was leaning alone under the big locust tree by the river, staring blankly, smoking. His eyes were pale, occasionally showing pain, his other hand pressing hard against his abdomen. I knew, he must be hurting again. “Let’s go. To the hospital.” Holding back sobs, I reached out to pull him. Liam didn’t expect me to be there and froze for a moment. Just for a second, then he sneered and threw off my hand. “Cece, aren’t you annoying?” “I told you, I hate you the most. Can you stop being so thick-skinned, always hanging around me?” I watched his mouth open and close. I didn’t hear a word. I only saw his lips were so pale they had no color at all. I lost control of my emotions and hugged him again. “Liam, didn’t you say? In sickness and in health, you want to be with me.” “Why, why are you pushing me away?”

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The trial was live-streamed. Just as the verdict for the mob boss was about to be read, he spoke up. He said he’d trade an address for his life, to get the death penalty off the table. “Back when I was just starting out, I witnessed a murder.” “The victim was one of yours.” “Skye Miller. Badge number 071923. Word is… her file was reopened three times.” “If I can give her a proper burial, wouldn’t that count as a major contribution?” The live chat exploded with outrage. “He’s lying, just trying to escape execution.” “If an officer went missing, they’d tear the city apart. No way she’d just vanish.” The judge turned to the police representative, asking if they needed a recess to investigate. Sam rose slowly to his feet. “No need.” “Skye Miller isn’t dead. She’s a fugitive I’ve been hunting for seven years.” 1 To make them believe, the mob boss recounted the entire gruesome murder right there in the courtroom. He described how his associates had knocked her out and taken turns raping her. How they had ripped out her fingernails and teeth, trying to make her give up police informants. And how, piece by piece, they had shattered every bone in her body. “She screamed like hell, but she wouldn’t say a damn thing. Not until someone called her phone.” “She heard the voice on the other end, and then… she just went quiet.” “We tried everything after that. Slicing her with knives, smashing her kneecaps, pouring hot oil on her skin and scraping it off with a wire brush… not a sound. She didn’t make a single sound.” “That’s when we knew it was useless. We weren’t getting anything out of her.” “Out of pity, I asked the boss to make it quick. Later, I handled the body myself.” As he spoke, his voice chillingly calm, the chat fell silent. Countless people listening felt a suffocating tightness in their chests. Only Sam stood rigid, his eyes burning with fury. “Keep acting. Put on your show.” “You people, feel pity for a cop? Don’t make me laugh.” The mob boss asked for a cigarette. “Killing her and pitying her are two different things,” he said, taking a long drag. “Even I thought I was a monster back then. And I have to admit, I respected her grit.” “But what can you do? It was the life.” “I’ve killed so many people over the years—rats who sold me out, rivals horning in on my business, deadbeats who wouldn’t pay… I don’t regret any of them. But her? She’s the only one that weighs on me.” A wave of raw respect for the police swept through the public, and people everywhere began digging online, trying to unearth any clue from the old case. But Sam just sneered. He shot to his feet, his voice ringing with conviction. “I don’t believe a single word you’ve said.” The mob boss just shook his head, a look of weary resignation on his face. “The time, the details, the people involved—I’ve told you everything I can. I’ve got no reason to lie.” “Face it… I’m the only one who knows where she’s buried.” “It’s your call. Trade a life sentence for her peace, or let her rot.” Sam’s superiors ordered a recess, pulling him back for an immediate debrief. The public demanded a full-scale investigation. But Sam fought it tooth and nail. He stormed into his captain’s office, slamming his hands on the desk. The captain roared back, ordering him to personally lead the excavation at the site the dealer had named. The squad car’s engine screamed as he floored the gas pedal. Watching the barely contained rage on his face, I felt a wave of helplessness wash over me. He really believes it, doesn’t he? That I fell from grace all those years ago. That I betrayed my ideals, my father’s badge number, all for a bag of dirty money. That I betrayed him. And now, I was a ghost haunting the new life he was just starting with Rose. As he shifted gears, his wrist was exposed. He was still wearing the faded cord bracelet I gave him years ago. But everything else in the car—the little trinkets, the air freshener—had been replaced with cute strawberry charms. Even the air was thick with a sickly sweet strawberry scent. It was clear Rose had completely woven herself into every corner of his new life. He didn’t know. The “old me” he’d cast aside had been left to rot in the cold, damp earth. For seven years. 2 Seven years, and he looked almost the same. A strong, righteous jawline; a lean, powerful frame. He just spoke less now, burying his emotions deeper. The silent red and blue lights flashed across the mountain road before the car stopped in a desolate field of withered grass. It was the dead of winter, the ground frozen solid. The first shovel strike just left a white scratch on the hard earth. He took command of the scene. “Use torches to soften the ground. The wind’s strong, so widen the downwind perimeter by another twenty feet.” Rose emerged from a group of volunteers, unscrewing a thermos. “Drink some hot water. Your voice is getting hoarse from all the shouting.” Sam took a sip, his voice softening. “What are you doing here?” “It’s crowded and chaotic. You should head home.” Rose rested her head against his shoulder, her voice filled with worry. “I saw the trial.” “Do you think… it could be real?” Sam let out a contemptuous snort but didn’t answer. He just stroked her long hair, his fingers gliding from the crown of her head to the very tips, curling a strand around his finger. Just like he used to do to soothe me. Back then, both our fathers were detectives. They worked together, went on missions together, and in the end, died in the line of duty together. At the wake, I curled up in his arms, clinging to him as my only anchor. He held me tight, his hand stroking my hair, over and over, from root to tip, curling a strand around his finger. We were inseparable after that. We went to the police academy together, inheriting our fathers’ badge numbers. We weren’t just partners with a shared purpose; we were lovers, fused together. Before our wedding, my mom had said with tears in her eyes, “You rascal, you’ve stolen my daughter.” Sam wrapped his arms around me possessively. “Not at all. You’ve just gained a son.” “Don’t you worry, ma’am. I swear I’ll never let Skye suffer a single day of hardship.” And he kept his promise. When I wanted to dig into a cold case, he’d stay up for nights on end organizing files for me. When I faced a gunman on a call, he threw himself in front of me without a second thought. I couldn’t handle spicy food, so this man who loved heat never touched a single chili pepper for years after we were married. We thought nothing in the world was stronger than the bond between partners and lovers. Who could have known? Our relationship would be torn apart by a prostitute we rescued from a drug den. I studied Rose’s enchanting face. It was hard to believe that in just a few years, she had transformed from a girl covered in the grime of the streets into this alluring, sophisticated woman. I guess a woman’s tears are the ultimate weakness of a man with a steel heart. After we rescued Rose, she started calling Sam in the middle of the night. Crying about how she couldn’t find a decent job, how everyone judged her for her past as an addict and a sex worker. Sam’s heart melted in her tears. Pity and sympathy bloomed in him like weeds in spring, impossible to control. He brought her into our home, giving her his entire paycheck under the guise of a “cleaning fee.” I was left to cover all our household expenses, and money became incredibly tight. I tried to fire her several times, but he always insisted. “Skye, Rose is fragile. She’s been through hell. We have to help her.” But over Sam’s shoulder, I could see her eyes, fixed on me, gleaming with defiance. I lost it. I grabbed her by the hair and dragged her out the door. She clutched her scalp, her tear-filled eyes speaking volumes without a word. And Sam—the man who had sworn to protect me with his life, my lover, my partner—raised his hand to me without hesitation. The slap sent me reeling to the floor. He cradled Rose’s face, his thumb gently wiping away the tears at the corner of her eyes. “Don’t cry. I told you, no one will ever hurt you again.” Then he looked down at me, his voice cold. “When are you going to get rid of that temper?” “Rose is a victim, too. Does this behavior honor the badge you wear?” But in this twisted triangle of betrayal, wasn’t it the two of them who were tormenting me? A thousand words caught in my throat. In the end, I just silently packed my bags and moved into the precinct dorms. Aside from work, we never spoke another word. I knew, deep down, that nothing physical had ever happened between him and Rose. I just couldn’t stand it. He was giving the tenderness that was once mine to another woman, while I was left to pay the bills. We were at a stalemate for a long time. Every day I would think, Maybe I’ll make up with him tomorrow. But the next day, the words would die on my lips, choked by the bitterness of it all. Unfortunately, tragedy arrived faster than tomorrow. I never got the chance to see him come back to me. Instead, I made a shocking discovery. Rose had a hidden connection to the very crime syndicate we’d been investigating for years. 3 A powerful suction tore me from my memories. The crowd erupted. “They’ve found something!” “Careful, give them a hand!” Sam stood stunned, the word escaping his lips before he could stop it. “Impossible!” “You just wanted to see me sweat, to make me look like a fool, didn’t you? There can’t really be any bones…” he muttered, as if to himself. Rose bit her lip, her expression fraught with worry. “Sam… you don’t think… Skye could have killed someone, do you?” “She always had such a volatile temper. If someone pushed her too far…” Sam’s jaw tightened, his muscles coiling. He pushed his way through the crowd. “I’m going to take a look.” I hovered over the shattered remains of my own skeleton. The wind whistled through the gaps in the bones, and I couldn’t help but laugh a bitter, silent laugh. This was the true meaning of “chilled to the bone.” He brushed the dirt from a fractured piece. Even through his gloves, I could feel the warmth of his fingertips. My soul trembled. Suddenly, I didn’t want him to see me like this. If I had a choice, I would want him to remember me as I was. Headstrong, impulsive, but so full of life. But now, all I could do was gaze up at the man I once loved, desperate for the lingering warmth of his touch. The medical examiner collected the bones, and the crowd slowly dispersed. Sam remained alone in the field. As the first light of dawn painted the sky, he suddenly pulled out his phone and started dialing like a madman. Ring… Ring… “The number you have dialed is no longer in service. Please check the number and try again.” The wind on the open plain was freezing, turning the tip of his nose red. A choked sob was ripped away by the gale. “Skye, this isn’t real…” “This is just a sick joke, right?” A pair of arms wrapped around his neck, a woman’s warm breath against his ear. Rose’s voice trembled. “Sam.” “Is she… still in your heart?” Sam’s body flinched violently. A heavy, turbulent silence hung between them. He placed his hand over hers, which rested on her stomach, and let out a long, weary sigh. “That’s all in the past.” “All I have now is you and the baby.” Rose’s arms tightened around him as she began to weep softly. “Sam, I’m so scared you’ll leave me.” “I’ve given you everything. Please… don’t let me down.” Seven years had worn away my anger. Now, I could watch her performance with a calm detachment. This woman was born with two faces. With Sam, she was always the pitiful victim. With me, her eyes were filled with venom and defiance. Sometimes, I truly wondered what I had ever done to her. Why did she hate me so much? It wasn’t until I was dying that I finally understood. She had every reason. Her father, a career criminal, had been killed in a shootout with my father and Sam’s father after resisting arrest. Without his protection, she quickly became a “plaything” passed around by the gang. “Do you know what I hate most about you?” she had sneered, crouching in front of me. Her voice was a low hiss. “We both lost our fathers. So why was your life so damn easy?” “Your classmates and neighbors treated you with even more kindness. The men in your life didn’t try to slip their hands into your underwear.” “I’m smarter than you, prettier than you, and I understand people better than you. So why, after all of that, does Sam still love you more?!” It dawned on me then. Love and hate—both can destroy you. Rose had intended to avenge her father’s death on both me and Sam. But somewhere along the way, she fell in love with him. And that only made her hate me more. 4 The morning sun stretched their shadows long across the ground. Watching their overlapping figures, a morbid curiosity sparked within me. What would Sam do if he knew who Rose really was? Would he continue to pity her, to cherish her? Or would he be disgusted? I couldn’t guess the answer. Fate is a cruel playwright, one that delights in twisting the human heart. It arranged for a detective to be killed by the daughter of the criminal he had taken down. Then it arranged for that detective’s son, completely unaware, to marry that same criminal’s daughter. Sometimes I think, if only Rose had been an adult when her father died. Her records wouldn’t have been sealed. We wouldn’t have mistaken the new head of the syndicate for an innocent victim. And I wouldn’t have died in such a horrific way. Every single one of my bones bears the scars of what they did to me. Back then, I had screamed, struggled, begged, and demanded to know why. But they just laughed as they broke my limbs and pulled my teeth out one by one, relentlessly demanding the names of our undercover officers and informants. Finally, they pumped me full of adrenaline—three shots. They wanted me fully conscious as they sliced open my abdomen and tossed my organs to the dogs. But there was a moment, a single chance, when I could have lived. Before they gutted me, Rose appeared, flanked by several menacing-looking Burmese men. “You’re good,” she said. “You almost brought down my entire operation.” “I was going to kill you outright. But Jago convinced me not to waste a valuable asset.” “If you can get the police to close the case, take the fall for everything, you can live out your days peacefully in prison.” I managed a weak, bloody smirk. “In your dreams.” Her smile turned ugly. “Refuse, and you disappear.” “In a few years, Sam will forget all about you anyway.” I closed my eyes in silence. But then Rose spoke again, her voice like a serpent’s hiss. “It’s the anniversary of your father’s death today, isn’t it?” “Every other year, Sam would have gone with you to the cemetery.” I tensed. “What are you planning?” “Nothing much. Just happened to ‘lose’ some evidence of a dirty cop taking bribes, and the money trail happens to lead straight to you.” Her voice was raspy, poisonous. “I know he won’t believe it. But he’ll use it as an excuse to make up with you.” “Women… we’re petty creatures. If I can’t have him, I’d rather destroy him.” Almost as soon as the words left her mouth, my phone began to ring, a death knell. It was Sam. Rose gestured with her chin. “Answer it. Have her lure him here.” I took the call. Sam asked where I was. He said there were some things he needed to clear up in person. He wanted to apologize and pick me up to go to the cemetery. But his apology had come too late. Even if I survived, I would be a cripple for the rest of my life. So I said nothing. Jago grew impatient. He grabbed a blowtorch and aimed it at my thigh. The smell of burning flesh filled the air. I clenched my teeth, refusing to make a sound. Sam. He was my closest partner, my beloved husband. He had given me the happiest days of my life. If I had one last wish at the end of my life, I would give anything to ensure his safety. But Sam must have sensed something was wrong. His voice grew sharp with urgency. “Skye, are you in trouble? Can you not talk? Hold on, I’m coming to find you!” I shook my head frantically, using the last ounce of my strength to shout into the phone. “Don’t!” “Don’t come looking for me! We’re over, you hear me?” “Go live your life with your little saint. I’m… I’m done with you!” I hung up and managed a final, heartbreaking smile. “You win, Rose.” Go to him. Comfort him. From now on, he’s yours. That night, they slept together. And from there, it was a natural progression. They became the perfect couple and even conceived a child together. And me? I died on the coldest day of winter. Buried beneath a barren field for seven years. Until today. The medical examiner held the DNA test results, his eyes filled with sorrow. “Captain, the victim is confirmed. It’s Skye Miller.” “Badge number 071923… case file sealed once more.”

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