Category: English

I was picking up my three-year-old son Noah from preschool when the unthinkable happened. A madman began slashing at people with a knife. To protect Noah, I became a human shield, taking multiple stab wounds before collapsing in my own blood. My husband Logan tackled the attacker and called ahead—the city’s best trauma team was waiting at the hospital. As they wheeled me into surgery, my vision blurring, I begged to know about Noah. Logan’s voice cracked. “He didn’t make it, Stella. He was gone before we arrived.” The world went black. I forgot to mention my high anesthesia tolerance. Drifting back to consciousness, I heard Logan speaking to the surgeon: “The boy could have been saved. Why did you tell us to stand down?” “His birth was a mistake,” Logan replied, voice cold. “My son with Vanessa turns eighteen soon—he gets the company. I won’t let anyone interfere.” My fairytale life was a carefully crafted hell. Now they’ll pay for what they’ve done. … The doctor glanced at my mangled abdomen and sighed. “I’ve examined her. The damage is severe, but miraculously, her uterus is intact. She might still have the chance to be a mother again someday.” “Who gave you permission to save it?” Logan’s voice sliced through the sterile air. “Remove it. Now. Make sure she can never, ever get pregnant again.” The doctor’s eyes widened in shock. “Mr. Hayes, you’re handing over the company to Vanessa’s son in three days. Even if your wife were to get pregnant again, it wouldn’t interfere with anything. She just lost her child. Do you really need to be this cruel?” I felt Logan’s hand gently stroking my cheek, a grotesque counterpoint to the venom in his words. “Letting her give birth to that bastard was the biggest mistake of my life. I couldn’t believe it when he dared to ask me for a birthday gift. He was already plotting to take over the company.” “I swore to Vanessa that no one would ever threaten our son’s inheritance. Even though she married another man, I have to protect them, to eliminate any loose ends.” A sharp knock echoed on the operating room door. A man’s sleazy, cocky voice cut through the silence. “Mr. Hayes, thanks for faking that psych evaluation for me. Got me off scot-free. I took care of the little brat like you asked. Now, about my payment…” “Five million will be wired to your account,” Logan said dismissively. “Take the money and get the hell out of the city. Don’t ever let Stella see your face again.” “Alright, get on with the surgery,” he instructed the doctor. “I have to go with Vanessa to pick up the custom gift for Ethan. Oh, and give her an extra dose of anesthetic. I don’t want Stella to feel any pain.” The sound of his footsteps faded. I clamped my eyes shut so tightly that a tooth cracked, biting back the scream that threatened to tear from my throat. So, it wasn’t a random madman. It was a hitman. An executioner hired by my own husband to secure peace of mind for the woman he truly loved. My little Noah. Only three years old. Murdered on his birthday by his own father, for a crime he never even imagined. My body fought against the anesthesia. I felt everything. The cold, sharp instruments churned inside me, a violation that felt like it was ripping my soul apart. The pain was an all-consuming fire, and I let it burn me into unconsciousness. When I opened my eyes again, Logan was there, his eyes red and filled with a carefully constructed anguish. “Stella, you’re finally awake,” he whispered, his voice thick with concern. “Does it still hurt?” “I’ve been waiting right outside this whole time. You have no idea how scared I was. Losing Noah is the greatest pain of my life… if I lost you too, I wouldn’t want to live.” He took a breath, his face a mask of sorrow. “Stella, the doctors… they said the damage to your abdomen was too severe. It… it destroyed your uterus. You won’t be able to have children again. But don’t worry,” he clutched my hand, “I’ll take care of you for the rest of our lives. We can be happy, just the two of us.” I looked down at my bandaged stomach. The stitches were neat, but beneath them, there was a cavernous emptiness, a constant, chilling reminder that I had been stripped of my right to ever be a mother again. “Noah?” I asked, my voice a hollow echo. Logan’s face crumpled with guilt. “He’s been cremated. The funeral is tomorrow. Stella, I’m so sorry. I failed as a father. I couldn’t protect our boy.” A spike of agony shot through me, but I didn’t call him on his lies. My gaze fell on the nightstand. In a beautiful, velvet-lined box sat a custom-engraved locket. “Logan,” I said, my voice flat. “Today is Noah’s birthday. We never got him a gift. Let’s let him take this locket with him. I hope in his next life, he lives a long and happy life. Okay?” A barely perceptible frown creased his brow before he smoothed it over with his practiced gentleness. “Stella, a friend asked me to pick that up for his kid. We can’t just take someone else’s gift.” “Besides,” he added quickly, “that’s for the living. It would only make Noah sad. And the material is nothing special, not good enough for our son. I’ve already had someone buy the finest funerary offerings. We’ll burn them all for him, so he’ll have everything he needs in the afterlife.” I said nothing, a desolate wasteland spreading through my heart. After so many years as a housewife, Logan had clearly forgotten that I was once one of the most discerning appraisers in the jewelry world. The “nothing special” material of that locket was the rarest type of emerald, intricately carved and worth a fortune. Engraved on it were the words ‘Peace and safety, always,’ a testament to a parent’s infinite love. For two months, I had seen him hunched over his desk in the study, sketching out the design for this very locket. I had foolishly believed it was for our son. I see now. In his heart, it was my son and I who were never good enough. At my insistence, Logan arranged for my discharge and took me home. He waved away the housekeeper, personally helping me bathe and wash my hair, his touch painstakingly careful around my abdominal wound. He even dried my hair himself, the very picture of a doting husband. I used to be moved by his tenderness. Now, looking at the monstrous scar on my stomach and thinking of Noah’s brutal death, all I felt was a cold, numb wasteland. Late that night, while Logan slept soundly beside me, I slipped into his study and logged into his cloud drive on his computer. The password was Vanessa’s birthday. Inside were tens of thousands of photos and videos, a meticulous chronicle of Vanessa’s pregnancy, the birth of their son, and every single milestone of his life up to the present day. Alongside them was a fully prepared share transfer agreement. For fifteen years of our marriage, Logan had spent more than half of his time on “business trips,” claiming he was expanding the market. In reality, he was with them. The bitter irony is that I never once suspected a thing. His messaging app was still open in the corner of the screen. I clicked on it. The pinned chat, named ‘The Happy Family of Three,’ burned my eyes. For the past eighteen years, Logan had showered Vanessa and their son with countless lavish gifts. “Logan, darling, Ethan was just born, he can’t drive a Maserati! You spoil him too much. P.S., I absolutely adore the sapphire necklace. Mwah!” “My love, Ethan turned three today! This island you bought him is breathtaking. You land this afternoon, right? Ethan can’t wait to see his daddy.” This was a level of adoration that Noah and I had never known. I had given up a brilliant career to marry Logan at twenty, content to be the woman behind the man. We weathered every storm together. The stress took a toll on my body, and for years, I couldn’t conceive. He always seemed so nonchalant about it. I thought he was just trying not to pressure me. I was grateful for his understanding. In the fifteenth year of our marriage, I finally got pregnant. Logan wasn’t nearly as overjoyed as I’d imagined; he just offered a perfunctory smile. Now, seeing the photo of him kissing Vanessa’s pregnant belly, his face radiant with pure ecstasy, I finally understood. He already had another family. My little Noah, in his eyes, was nothing more than an inconvenient case of appendicitis, something to be cut out and disposed of as quickly as possible. No wonder. No wonder on every single one of Noah’s birthdays, Logan always had an “urgent business trip” abroad. Noah’s birthday was only three days apart from their son’s. He had to go early to prepare, to ensure his real treasures weren’t slighted in any way. My heart a dead, cold thing in my chest, I closed the window and called my best friend overseas. “I’ll take the job,” I said, my voice steady. “I’ll be your head jewelry appraiser. See you in three days.” I also asked her for a few other favors. After the call, I went to Noah’s room. Everything was just as he’d left it. His pillow still held the faint, milky scent of a child. But my baby was never coming back. Under his pillow, I found a small wish jar. Inside was a note, written for him by his teacher, detailing his birthday wish. “Teacher says big boys have to be brave, so this year I finally got the courage to ask Daddy for a birthday present. But before I could even finish my sentence, Daddy got angry and walked away.” “All I wanted… was for Daddy to spend one hour with me on my birthday. Even thirty minutes would have made me really, really happy.” Tears streamed down my face. Logan… this was the grand ambition you were so terrified of? After printing out the divorce papers, I curled up with Noah’s blanket, inhaling his fading scent, and cried until the sun came up. The next morning, Logan, a man obsessed with cleanliness, personally cleaned the weeping fluid from my wound, changed the dressing, and carefully wrapped it in fresh gauze. The housekeeper watched with an envious expression. My heart remained a stone. Seeing my swollen, red-rimmed eyes, his face filled with pain. “Stella, I know you miss Noah. I miss him more than you can imagine. But you have to take care of yourself. I’ve already lost my beloved son; I can’t lose you too. Why don’t you stay home and rest today? I’ll handle the funeral.” Handle it? You, the monster who murdered your own child? I swallowed the bitter irony. “No,” I said quietly. “I have to be there. To say a final goodbye.” When we arrived at the funeral, I saw them from a distance. Vanessa and a teenage boy were flanking my mother-in-law, laughing and talking intimately, making her beam with delight. At such a solemn occasion, everyone else was dressed in black. But Vanessa was in a vibrant, high-fashion red dress. The boy was in a matching, flashy red suit. My mother-in-law, however, seemed completely blind to it. She clung to them both, her eyes shining with affection. She even had one of the staff hold an umbrella over them to shield them from the sun, as if they were her true daughter-in-law and grandson. When she saw me, Vanessa’s lips curved into a smirk. “Oh, don’t worry about me, Mother,” she said, her voice dripping with false concern. “Stella’s here now. The sun is so strong, you should give the umbrella to her. After all, she’s not like me. Her son is dead, and she’s been injured. She needs all the care she can get.” My mother-in-law’s gaze fell on me, her expression a mixture of disgust and annoyance. “It was just a little traitor. What’s the big deal? Who are you putting on this crying show for? Stop your pathetic act. You’re a disgrace to the Hayes family name.” “Even Vanessa and Ethan have more sense than you,” she continued, her voice sharp. “They came straight from the airport because they were worried about me, and they brought me this beautiful jade bracelet. Infinitely better than a cold-hearted thing like you.” She had never liked me, always believing I was beneath Logan. And for the dozen years I couldn’t conceive, she called me a barren hen. When Noah was finally born, she resented how he doted on me, thinking he was a “traitor” with his loyalties misplaced. Logan used to defend me, at least a little. But now, his eyes were glued to Vanessa, his expression one of utter fascination, as if she were a priceless treasure. Vanessa shot me a subtle, triumphant smile before turning back to his mother. “Mother, you’re getting older, you mustn’t get upset. If you’ll have him, Ethan will be your grandson from now on.” My mother-in-law was overjoyed, praising her for being so thoughtful. Vanessa then led the boy over to me, a bright, fake smile on her face. “It’s been a while, Stella. I’m so sorry, we just flew in from overseas and didn’t have time to change. You’re so forgiving, I’m sure you won’t be angry, will you?” “Oh, and this is my son, Ethan Hayes.” Ethan, who looked unsettlingly like a younger Logan, shot me a disdainful look. “Wow, lady,” he sneered, “you’re hideous.” Then, he casually held out his hand to Logan. “Dad, didn’t you say you had presents for Mom and me when we got back? My eighteenth birthday is the day after tomorrow. Last year you only got me 99 gifts. This year, I want 100.” Logan completely ignored the insult directed at me. He just ruffled the boy’s hair with a look of helpless indulgence. “I know, I know.” Then, he took out the emerald locket and fastened it around Ethan’s neck, his expression full of paternal love. As if that weren’t enough, Logan snapped his fingers. A fleet of more than a dozen brightly colored sports cars pulled up outside the funeral home. “There. I know you like bright colors, son. They’re all yours.” Vanessa pouted, wrapping her arm around Logan’s. “What about me, darling? You can’t just spoil our son.” Logan tweaked her nose playfully. “Of course I didn’t forget you.” At his signal, two people stepped out of each car, their arms laden with over thirty sets of jewelry. The styles and materials varied, but they all had one thing in common: they were astronomically expensive. One of them had once been worn by a royal consort from a bygone dynasty. Vanessa squealed with delight and kissed his cheek, looking as giddy as a teenager. “Wow! Isn’t this all from that royal auction in Europe the other day? The cheapest set was over a hundred million! You bought it all for me? Oh, Logan, you’re the best to us. But you spent so much… won’t Stella be upset?” They had turned my son’s funeral into a sickening exhibition of luxury cars and jewels. And me, in my plain, outdated black suit, with no makeup and eyes swollen like walnuts, I looked like a pathetic, washed-up joke next to the radiant, exquisitely dressed Vanessa. It was a bitter pill to swallow, knowing that everything Logan had ever given Noah in his entire life didn’t even add up to the cost of one of Ethan’s new cars. Hilarious. It was all so horribly, brutally hilarious. Logan finally seemed to remember I was there. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Stella, don’t overthink it. Vanessa and Ethan are just used to different customs from living abroad. This is just a formality for them.” “And you heard my mother, she’s accepted Ethan as her grandson. It’s only natural he calls me ‘Dad.’ It’s his birthday soon, I just wanted to show him I care. The locket was also…” He never finished. Vanessa suddenly stumbled, falling gracefully into his arms. “Logan, I’m so dizzy,” she murmured weakly. “I think I’m getting heatstroke.” Logan immediately let go of me and scooped her up. “What? How? I had the villa built for you specifically to avoid the heat. You should have just stayed there and rested. Why did you have to come to this miserable place? Come on, I’ll take you somewhere to lie down.” And with that, before Noah’s ashes were even interred, he carried Vanessa away. I stood there, enduring the mocking stares of the few remaining guests, and picked up my son’s urn myself. It’s okay, my love. Daddy doesn’t love you, but Mommy does. But before I could place the urn in the burial niche, Ethan shoved me hard from behind. I stumbled, and the urn crashed to the ground, shattering into pieces. Noah’s ashes scattered across the cold stone.

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At my own wedding reception, I raised a glass to my wife’s old flame. In response, he smashed the glass on the floor in front of everyone. “So I lost to you,” he spat. “You got to marry Amelia. But that doesn’t give you the right to humiliate me in public!” My wife, Amelia, was livid. She screamed at me, calling me a petty, pathetic man, saying my jealousy was the most disgusting thing about me. Then she ripped off her veil and ran after her old love, who was already storming out. I rushed forward, trying to explain, but a car screeched around the corner and hit me. Amelia glanced back at me, just for a second, then continued her pursuit without breaking stride. I was rushed to the hospital. By some miracle, I survived. But in that sterile, white room, my heart died. The moment I was conscious, I made a call to the father I hadn’t spoken to in three years. “Dad,” I said, my voice raspy. “About that arranged marriage for the family… I’ll do it.” The day I was discharged, Amelia still hadn’t shown up. She hadn’t visited me once during my entire hospital stay. My leg was still in a cast. I had to take a cab home. When I got to our apartment, my key wouldn’t work. The lock had been changed. I had no choice but to call her. A man’s voice answered. It was him. Cole, her old flame. “Hey, is that you, Leo? Amelia’s in the shower.” Before I could say anything, the door clicked open from the inside. The moment Cole saw me, he grinned, wide and welcoming. “Leo, you’re back! Come on in.” “It’s my fault, man,” he said, gesturing to the lock. “I’m so bad with numbers, I could never remember the code. So Amelia just changed it to my birthday. You didn’t know, right? I’ll write it down for you.” He was wearing a brand-new silk robe, his hair still damp and plastered to his forehead. Just then, Amelia poked her head out of the master bedroom. She was wearing my favorite of her nightgowns—the sheer black one. If this had happened before, seeing them alone together, both freshly showered, I would have exploded. We would have screamed at each other until we were red in the face. This time, I just gave a slight nod and wheeled my suitcase inside. Seeing my lack of reaction, Amelia tossed the towel she was holding and offered a flimsy explanation. “The power went out at Cole’s place, so he’s staying here for a few days. Don’t get the wrong idea.” Looking at her, all I could see was the image of her chasing after Cole, not even glancing back as I was struck by a car, nearly killed. In that moment, any love I had for her had vanished. “I’m not,” I said. I didn’t stop, just dragged my suitcase toward the bedroom. “Cole’s family is all overseas,” she continued, following me. “He’s all alone here. We grew up together. If I don’t take him in, who will?” I listened silently. She seemed to have forgotten that I had also cut off my family for three years to be with her. If Cole had it so tough, what about me? “I told you, I’m not getting the wrong idea.” I was forced to stop as she blocked my path. “Leo, you’ve had a sour look on your face since you walked in. I’m trying to explain, and you won’t even listen.” “What is it that you want?” She grabbed my arm, her words a torrent of accusations. My patience snapped. I pushed her hand away, my voice cold. “I said, I am not getting the wrong idea.” The fracture in my arm wasn’t fully healed. A sharp pain shot through it, and I had to let go of my suitcase. It fell to the floor with a dull thud. The bedroom light flicked on, revealing a pair of light blue men’s briefs on the bed, next to a black bra with a broken strap. Amelia’s face went pale. She scrambled to snatch up the clothes. “We… we accidentally got these wet earlier. We were just letting them dry,” she stammered. “Don’t overthink it.” I looked around the messy bedroom. There was barely a place to stand. “Mm,” was all I said before turning and walking into the guest room. After I showered, my father called. “Leo, I’m glad you’ve come to your senses. I’m getting old, and you’re my only son. For three years, you refused to come home and take over the family business, all for that woman. You have no idea how much your mother and I have missed you. If she truly loved you, it would be one thing. But it’s been three years, and she’s never even properly introduced you to her family or friends. It’s clear she’s not as devoted to you as you claim.” “Since you’ve made up your mind to come back, we’ll set the wedding for a month from now. How does that sound?” His words left me stunned. Before, whenever he’d said things like this, I’d bristled, convinced he was just a rich snob looking down on Amelia. I would have fired back, telling him how much Amelia and I loved each other. This time, I had nothing to say. “Okay,” I finally managed. “That works. I can leave after Professor Evans’s birthday party.” “As for the wedding, you and Mom can handle the arrangements.” Just as I hung up, I heard footsteps outside the door. Amelia pushed open the door to the guest room, holding a box of fresh mangoes. She set the fruit on the table, her brow furrowed with suspicion. “I thought I heard you talking about a wedding? I’ve told you several times, since our wedding was postponed, there’s no rush.” Seeing the panic in her eyes, I answered calmly, “Not ours. A relative’s. They asked me to help plan it.” She seemed to relax. She opened the box of mangoes, her face lighting up with a smile as she mentioned Cole. “Cole was worried you’d be upset, so he’s already moved into a hotel. He asked me to bring you these fresh mangoes as an apology.” I didn’t open my mouth. A flash of annoyance crossed Amelia’s face. “Leo, enough is enough. Let it go. This isn’t good for anyone.” I laughed, a dry, humorless sound. “We’ve been together for years. Don’t you know I’m allergic to mangoes?” With that, I turned to find a hairdryer. Amelia followed me, opening her mouth to say something several times, but ultimately remaining silent. She used to remember everything I couldn’t eat. She used to remember every single one of our anniversaries. The first time I had an allergic reaction to a dessert with mango in it, she had rushed me to the hospital in the middle of the night, frantic with worry. It wasn’t that she had forgotten now. It was just that she didn’t love me anymore. Without looking at her, I took out the medicine the doctor had given me and started changing my own dressing. When she saw the scars and bruises covering my body, a flicker of guilt crossed her eyes. She picked up a cotton swab, wanting to help. I was about to refuse when her phone rang. Cole’s weak voice came through the speaker. “Amelia, I think I ate something bad. My stomach is killing me, and I’m breaking out in a cold sweat. Can you bring me some medicine?” Amelia shot to her feet. “Don’t move. I’m on my way. Just lie down and wait for me.” After hanging up, she turned to me with a look of earnest sincerity. “Leo, Cole’s stomach condition is acting up. I have to go check on him. I swear, there’s nothing going on between us. If there was, it would have happened years ago. Please, don’t be mad at me over this.” Before I could answer, she was already out the door. The medicine bottles on the table were knocked over, spilling their contents across the floor. Staring at the empty, silent room and the closed door, I let out a self-deprecating laugh. It was always like this. Whenever it came to Cole, she would lose all composure, and I would be consumed by insecurity. She always said I didn’t trust her enough. Well, now she could rest easy. I would never doubt her again. After that day, Amelia didn’t come back. But Cole’s social media was updated frequently. It was all about how blissful it was to be alone with Amelia. I quietly blocked Cole on all platforms. Then I watched the numbers on my new digital countdown clock tick away. With twenty days left, I started the process of resigning from my job. My projects were already wrapping up, but I still wanted to leave things in perfect order. My manager saw the “getting married” reason on my resignation form and joked, “About time you two had a proper ceremony. Wouldn’t want Amelia to get any funny ideas.” I lowered my head for a moment, then looked up with a bright smile. “It’s not with her.” My manager’s smile faded, replaced by a sigh of regret. The days were a blur of handing over my work. It wasn’t until the second day after I’d officially left that I finally had a moment to breathe. I glanced at the countdown clock. Five days left. I was in a daze. I slapped my cheeks, trying to clear my head, and started packing. Amelia and I had been together for a long time. I loved photography. Our pictures were everywhere in the apartment. There were more on my camera and computer. Besides the photos, there were the boxes from every birthday gift I’d ever given her. I’d kept them all, as mementos. And to make sure I didn’t repeat a gift and seem thoughtless. And then there were the love letters she had written me. … Looking at all of it, a heavy weight settled in my chest. It hurt. We had been so good together once. Back then, I couldn’t bear to miss a single moment with her. And she would spend all her free time with me. Sometimes, she would pout at the photos and say, “You take so many pictures. Aren’t you going to get sick of looking at me one day?” I’d flick her forehead gently. “Maybe. The day I get sick of you, I’ll just disappear quietly. Be a real heartbreaker.” She’d playfully punch my arm, and I’d fall back onto the sofa, laughing. “Oh, you’ve broken it… my heart! Look what’s inside! My god, it’s all you!” We would collapse into a fit of laughter. So many years had passed. I hadn’t gotten sick of her, but she had gotten sick of me. After looking through everything one last time, I took it all to the bathroom and burned it, piece by piece. I washed the ashes down the drain. All our history, gone. Nothing left. Time flew by. Amelia still hadn’t returned. I spent the next few days packing and cleaning the apartment. Until there was not a single trace of me left in that home. Seeing the “2” on the countdown clock, I grabbed my keys and went out to get a gift for Professor Evans. Professor Evans had taught a general education course we both took in college. He was, in a way, the one who brought Amelia and me together. I spent a long time at the mall before finally choosing a jade pendant. They say jade can ward off disaster. The professor was getting older. I hoped he would live a long, healthy life. Professor Evans’s birthday was my last day in this city. Tomorrow, I would fly home to get married.

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The four of us grew up together, thick as thieves. But then, just like that, Frank died in a car crash. A few days later, Joey drowned while fishing. And was it all because of Chris’s damn jinx? Right after I got back from Frank’s funeral, I grabbed Chris, hard. Because I had this gut feeling Frank’s death had something to do with him. Here’s how it went down: the day before Frank died, me, Frank, Chris, and Joey were just hanging out, grabbing coffee. We were buds since forever, always getting together to shoot the breeze whenever we could. We were laughing about something, and suddenly Chris just stares at Frank and says something totally out of the blue. “Hey Frank, you driving into the city tomorrow, right? Be careful, man. Might be your last chance to have coffee with us!” The three of us kind of froze for a second, but then brushed it off. I mean, it didn’t sound that weird, maybe even a little concerned. Even if Chris was just trying to spook Frank, it was the kind of dumb joke we’d pull. But still… I saw this flash of something weird in Chris’s eyes when he said it. I didn’t think much of it then. Then the next day, Frank was driving that winding road into the city, and his car went right off a cliff. He was killed instantly. Me, Chris, and Joey couldn’t believe it. One minute Frank’s there, the next… gone. We pushed down our grief and helped his family with the funeral arrangements. As soon as it was over, I dragged Chris back to my place and laid into him. “Chris, what the hell is wrong with you? Are you cursed or something?” Chris just looked at me, totally confused. “Alex, what are you talking about?” “You practically called it! You said Frank was gonna have an accident, and the next day he’s dead! You possessed or something?” I stared him down. Chris blinked a few times, then put on this wounded look. “Alex, come on, man, don’t pin this on me. It was a stupid joke, that’s all. How was I supposed to know something would actually happen?” I stared at him for a long time, trying to see through him, but couldn’t find a crack. I let him go, feeling uneasy. Maybe it was just a horrible coincidence? But then, a few days later, something else happened that made my skin crawl. 2 Three days after the funeral, I suggested me, Joey, and Chris go fishing down by the river. Frank’s death hit us all hard. We needed something to take our minds off it, try to shake off the sadness. Joey and Chris were up for it. We got down to the riverbank, casting our lines, talking about nothing much, just waiting for a bite. Suddenly, Joey’s line went taut, the tip of his rod bending like crazy! He yanked back hard, fighting it. The rod looked like it was about to snap, but whatever was on the line wasn’t coming up. “Whoa, this is a big one!” Joey sounded stoked. He yelled for us to give him a hand. I was about to get up, but then I heard Chris say, real quiet and creepy, “Joey, man… that’s not a fish you hooked. Let it go. Seriously, let it go, or it’ll pull you down for good!” I stopped. What the hell was he talking about? It was broad daylight. I was about to tell Chris to shut up, but Joey already started cussing him out. “Chris, you asshole! What kind of crap is that? Get over here and help me!” “No way, man. I’m not getting dragged in,” Chris said, with this weird little smile. His smile looked… wrong. Sinister. Seeing Joey still struggling, I stood up to help. “Alex, watch yourself. There’s something down there,” Chris warned suddenly. I hesitated for a split second. Just then, Joey let out a terrified yell, and the rod jerked him right into the river! I jumped, startled, but didn’t dive in right away. We all grew up by this river. Joey especially was the best swimmer out of the four of us. Falling in wouldn’t normally be a big deal for him. Chris didn’t move either, just sat there watching Joey flailing in the water. But I saw that weird expression on his face again, something I couldn’t place. Then I realized something was seriously wrong. Joey wasn’t fighting a fish anymore. It looked like something unseen was pulling him down. His arms were thrashing wildly, like he was begging for help! Then, just like that, his head and hands disappeared under the water! My face went pale, my stomach dropped. “He’s in trouble! Help him!” I yelled at Chris. Without even taking off my shoes or shirt, I plunged into the river. Chris jumped in right after me, no hesitation this time. We took deep breaths and dove down. We found Joey tangled in thick weeds at the bottom. We grabbed his clothes, his arms, pulling with all our might, but we couldn’t free him! It felt like something in the weeds was physically pulling his legs down. For a terrifying second, I actually thought, Is there really something down there trying to kill Joey? But there was no time to freak out. After a struggle, Chris and I finally dragged Joey back onto the bank. His lips were blue, he wasn’t breathing. We called 911, then started CPR immediately – chest compressions, rescue breaths, everything we’d seen on TV. Water poured out of his mouth, but he didn’t wake up. Later, we took him to the hospital. We waited outside the ICU for two agonizing hours until the doctor came out. “He’s stable for now, out of immediate danger. But he might have been without oxygen for too long… it could take a while for him to regain consciousness.” My heart sank. “You mean… he could be in a coma? Or… worse?” The doctor said Joey was young and strong, he’d probably wake up soon. 3 Even though Joey was alive, I felt sick walking out of the hospital. Chris looked grim too. First Frank, now Joey barely clinging to life… what the hell was happening to us? Was it just a horrible bad luck streak? Then I remembered: both Frank and Joey had their accidents right after Chris said something weird. Chris had even mentioned something pulling Joey down in the river, and even though Joey was a great swimmer, he almost drowned. I didn’t care about the people coming and going outside the hospital. I grabbed Chris by the collar, my voice harsh. “Chris, damn it! What are you, psychic? Or did you put the evil eye on them?” Chris struggled out of my grip. “Alex, what are you talking about? Psychic?” “How else did you know Joey hooked something bad? Something that would pull him under?” “I was joking, man! Freaking kidding! You actually believed that?” “How could I not believe it? You say something about Frank, Frank dies. You say something about Joey, Joey almost dies! What are the odds of that, Chris? Winning the lottery jackpot is more likely!” “But… but I was just talking crap! Maybe… maybe it was just their time, you know? Like fate. I just happened to say something dumb right before.” Whether he was lying or just didn’t want to deal with me, Chris shook me off, hurried to his car, locked the doors, and ignored me banging on the window. I had to take the bus home, feeling miserable and confused. I couldn’t sleep that night. Losing Frank and almost losing Joey was heartbreaking, but Chris… Chris was starting to scare the hell out of me. Yeah, he liked to joke around, but he’d never said creepy, specific stuff like that before Frank and Joey got hurt. Had something happened to him? And if this kept up… was he going to be next?

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On my wedding day, my fiancée showed no regard for my dignity. In front of everyone, she laid out nine house rules that left me completely humiliated. Under the gaze of all those guests, I could only swallow my anger. Who knew that strictly adhering to these rules would lead to me being schemed against and killed? And on the third day of her vigil after my death, my wife, clutching my hefty insurance payout and vast fortune, couldn’t wait to remarry. Only later did I find out she’d had someone else in her heart all along. Those nine house rules were just a ploy to get their hands on my wealth. In a daze, I was back at the wedding day, faced once again with the moral blackmail of those nine house rules. But this time, I scoffed, then turned and married the bridesmaid. 01 “If you want to marry my sister, you have to follow our Shaw family’s nine house rules.” “Not following them means you’re disrespecting my sister!” The voice of my brother-in-law, Brandon, echoed in my ears. Coming to, I realized I had escaped the hell of excruciating pain from shattered bones. I was shocked to find myself back on this very day. In my past life, my wife’s nine house rules made me a laughingstock. I was guilt-tripped, becoming the prime sucker in their joint scheme. She’d dangled the marriage certificate as a condition, stringing me along. Until, at the wedding ceremony, I was completely ensnared by her nine house rules. One of them was— The wife can share all family assets with the husband and has the right to make decisions on the husband’s behalf. Not long after the wedding, I ended up in the hospital for a minor stomach issue. My entire fortune was swindled by my wife. Including the company’s finances, which she secretly transferred to her account in my name. To abide by these house rules, I was ridiculed by numerous business partners, and my company’s reputation plummeted. It wasn’t until my liquid assets were completely drained by her and my brother-in-law working together that I realized I’d been thoroughly conned. She frantically took out loans in my name to set Brandon up with properties. Because of this, I was saddled with billions in debt. Crushed by overwhelming pressure, I eventually jumped to my death from a building. I didn’t even get a gravestone. Under the watch of friends and family— My wife put on a show of mourning me for three days, only to spit viciously on my urn. And my brother-in-law, Brandon, even scattered my ashes for fun. 02 “Oh, Alex will definitely agree to follow these rules.” Before I could even react, my wife, Lily, was already smoothing things over for me. Lily Shaw said with a smile: “After all, he chased me for five years. What condition hasn’t he agreed to for me?” “He checked in on me every single day; my heart isn’t made of stone.” My brother-in-law scoffed, “I doubt it.” Then Brandon looked at me provocatively. Returning to this day, I suddenly understood. Lily wasn’t giving me an out, was she? Those two were clearly playing good cop, bad cop, forcing my hand! A dead silence fell, and I was once again surrounded by disdainful, contemptuous gazes. Just like in my previous life, I was utterly humiliated, trapped in a quagmire with no escape. Suddenly, the bridesmaid, Mia Lin, cautiously interjected, “Lily, no matter what, this is a bit too much.” “Aren’t these nine house rules a little too unfair to Mr. Chen?” My gaze shifted to Mia, and I couldn’t help but be startled. In that grand wedding hall, no one had dared to say a word against those grossly unfair nine house rules. Only Mia had mustered the courage to voice her dissent, only to be angrily shut down by my ungrateful self. Afterward, because of that one statement— She was brutally assaulted and humiliated by Brandon, had her hair pulled and face slapped by Lily, and was then cyberbullied online. I had been completely oblivious. Even now, I can still recall hearing her desperate cries for help from the next room on that day. But Lily had kept me outside the door, completely unaware that a girl was suffering such an insult at my wedding. So much so that later, when Lily cyberbullied her, branding her a homewrecker and a slut, she jumped from the rooftop of a 20-story building. Ending her life in its prime. No one ever knew that I insisted on marrying Lily Shaw to repay the girl who, when my family had fallen on hard times, had secretly funded my way through college. Only after Mia Lin’s death. Did I realize that she was the one who had given me aid back then, the secret crush I had longed for. Unfortunately, Lily had usurped her place, deceiving me for so many years. 03 Hearing Mia’s words, the siblings exchanged a look. The disgusting meaning in their eyes was unmistakable. I clenched my fists, rage and hatred boiling within me. This life, I absolutely would not let her, or myself, pay such a price as in the past. Seeing Brandon secretly signaling Lily, the tragedy of my past life was about to repeat itself. I immediately interrupted: “Lily’s right, I’ll definitely abide by these nine house rules.” “I’ve pursued Lily for so many years; everyone has witnessed my feelings for her.” At these words, the surrounding atmosphere relaxed. I secretly smirked: Heh, since my feelings for her are sincere and unwavering. Then if the wedding is canceled, it must be her fault. And it has to be a massive scandal. Today, I will ruin the reputations of the Shaw siblings! Looking at Lily’s smug face, I scoffed. You like scheming, don’t you? This life, I’ll give you a taste of your own medicine. Many of the wedding guests exchanged glances, their eyes filled with disdain and contempt. Anyone who had seen the nine house rules knew that if I really married Lily Shaw, I’d basically be her doormat. But what they didn’t know was—what kind of a huge drama was about to unfold today. As I gave them an out, the siblings’ plan succeeded, and their expressions brightened considerably. Mia Lin had escaped a terrible fate. This wedding, I was going to thoroughly expose Lily Shaw’s true colors. As for my dear brother-in-law, Brandon Shaw, I had no intention of letting him off the hook either. 04 With me smoothing things over, the atmosphere instantly became harmonious. Many of my good friends privately pulled at my sleeve, advising: “Are you crazy? Haven’t you simped for her enough? Now you want to be her grandson?!” “Don’t you know Lily Shaw is famously obsessed with spoiling her brother!” I smiled and reassured them. How could I not know? Having experienced the humiliation of my past life, I knew all too well. In my previous life, my financial power was completely controlled by Lily. She hide me, bought Brandon a house and a car, and even the compensation money after Brandon got into trouble was paid by me. Whenever I mentioned it, Lily would say dismissively: “He’s practically your brother now. What’s wrong with buying your brother a few things?” “Why are you, as a brother-in-law, so stingy?” But Brandon was truly capable of endless wrongdoing. After Lily married me, he had a backer and became increasingly lawless, causing bigger and bigger troubles. My entire family fortune was spent on Brandon alone. I, a CEO, couldn’t even afford to pay for meals when dining out for business. It was utterly humiliating. Yet I couldn’t break the agreement; the siblings’ intentions were truly malicious. A video of me agreeing to the nine house rules on the wedding day was maliciously recorded and circulated online for three days. Ostensibly to prove my love for my wife, Lily. In reality, it became the leverage the siblings used against me later. If I didn’t abide by the house rules, I would be constantly accused and insulted by netizens. My company’s sales would plummet due to a lack of credibility, and its reputation would be severely damaged. 05 Looking at the disappointed faces of my friends and family, I smiled and shook my head. This life, I did abide by the nine house rules, and they did record it and post it online as proof. But what if the wedding doesn’t happen, and I just happen to occupy the moral high ground? A smirk involuntarily touched my lips. Who wins or loses this round isn’t certain yet. This life, I will make you siblings lose everything and be despised by all. Seeing the wedding emcee take the stage, I smirked. It’s time. The words had barely left my lips when a heavily pregnant girl rushed onto the stage. She appeared suddenly from behind a screen. No one reacted in time. By the time they did, the girl had already snatched the microphone from the emcee. The host, flustered and confused, looked at me for a cue. I remained impassive, watching with amusement as she began to recount her tragic story. Lily and Brandon’s faces instantly turned deathly pale. “How did she get here?!” Brandon immediately rushed over, grabbing my collar, his face contorted with rage: “Get this bitch off the stage now!!” Lily’s expression was also very ugly: “Alex, are you just going to watch a stranger cause a scene at our wedding?” “This girl seems truly sincere; I’m afraid there really might be something to it,” I said, feigning difficulty. Watching their ugly expressions, I sneered inwardly. Of course, I was going to watch; after all, I was the one who brought her here. Brandon’s ex-girlfriend, a poor soul he had swindled out of money and taken advantage of. Just a little appetizer for the guests. There’s an even bigger surprise coming later. 06 “Damn it!” Seeing the girl lay out Brandon’s disgusting past misdeeds one by one, Brandon cursed but was helpless. I smirked triumphantly. He hadn’t forgotten that to use the nine house rules to control me— They had tampered with the wedding recording; it was being live-streamed to the entire internet. Meaning his so-called dark secrets were completely exposed to the public. For the moment, he couldn’t make a move. I opened my phone; sure enough, many netizens were furious: 【Damn, how can such a scumbag exist?!】 【Scammed her, used her, and then even got a bunch of thugs to assault her?! How can someone be this lawless?】 【Isn’t this an animal? Is this the so-called prestigious Shaw family?】 The girl was sincere and her story deeply tragic. The crowd’s emotions were instantly stirred. Seeing the guests looking at the Shaw siblings with increasingly ugly expressions, Lily, her face livid, immediately shouted: “Get her off the stage, now! This bitch is just slandering my brother!” I hadn’t even expected her to say more than a few words to defend Brandon. This idiot brought about his own destruction. The hot-tempered man snatched a wine bottle and violently hurled it at the frail, pregnant girl. Instantly, it caused public outrage: “Damn it! This animal! He’s trying to destroy the witness!” “He hit a nerve! It looks like what this girl said is all true!” I couldn’t react in time, only watching helplessly as the shattering wine bottle flew towards the girl. With that force, if it hit, it would undoubtedly be fatal or cause serious injury! Damn, miscalculated! I didn’t expect this idiot to lash out so desperately in public! My eyes were about to pop out of their sockets, while Brandon wore a smug, gloating smirk. As if he could already see the girl with her head bloodied. In a flash, Mia Lin tackled the girl to the ground, helping her dodge the blow. I breathed a sigh of relief. Indeed, no matter when, Mia was always that kind girl. At this moment, the wail of police sirens sounded from outside. Someone had called the cops. 07 Lily finally lost control of her expression; the sudden turn of events had disrupted all her plans. I saw Brandon’s face turn pale as he was about to flee. I immediately tripped him hard as he tried to run, and he face-planted spectacularly. He shattered his teeth, his face covered in blood. Lily, frustrated with his incompetence, slapped Brandon across the face: “Idiot! Hurry up and apologize to the young lady!” Then, forcing a smile, she turned: “Sorry, my brother is just hot-headed. His hand slipped just now.” “What the hell, does this woman take us for fools? Her expression changes faster than flipping a book!” Everyone present was an elite businessperson, and there were even many wealthy socialites. Brandon’s gloating face just now had been clearly seen by everyone. Someone even advised, “Mr. Liu, don’t go through with this marriage. I suspect this family is fraudulent.” My heart leaped with joy, but my face still wore a troubled expression. Watching the police arrive and take Brandon away, Lily immediately begged me: “Alex, you know, he’s my only brother. If he goes to jail, how will I, his sister, live?!” But any discerning person could see that Brandon had just attempted murder. If that bottle had connected, it would have been two lives lost. I looked at her pitiful, yet secretly scheming and vicious gaze. My memory flashed back to my previous life. Back then, controlled by public opinion, when the last of my family’s assets were squandered by Brandon, I finally let go of my last shred of dignity and pleaded with Lily: “Lily, our cars and houses have all been mortgaged. Give me a way out.” “Stop taking out loans in my name. I’m a person of some standing, after all.” “How do you think this makes me look to others?” Unexpectedly, that bitch sneered: “You deserve it. Who told you to be so incapable? You can’t even support me and Brandon after just a few short years.” “Useless! A spineless wimp like you didn’t deserve to marry me in the first place!” With that, her bright red high heels kicked me viciously in the abdomen, making me see black and my stomach cramp. The sharp heel even ground cruelly on my fingers: “Alright, don’t keep me from my beauty appointment. Get lost!” “Cry poor to me again, and I’ll post the video online!” 08 Brandon was eventually taken away by the police. As for how many years he’d get, that still required investigation. However, due to this incident, public attention was extremely high. He would undoubtedly have a very hard time in prison. Lily wasn’t flustered at all, still smugly threatening me. As if certain that I would do everything in my power to marry her. I looked at her confident face and couldn’t help but sneer. It was my mistake. I mistakenly believed she was the girl who had helped me back then. So I tried my utmost to please her, even debasing myself to suck up to her. Unexpectedly, by a strange twist of fate, I had been wrong about her all along. Which is why she was so confident now. Otherwise, the Shaw family, self-proclaimed high society but actually a fallen household— If they hadn’t married into my family, they probably wouldn’t even qualify to be noticed by the upper class. In my previous life, unaware of the truth, I probably would have exhausted myself trying to bail Brandon out. But this life— I couldn’t wait for these siblings to fall into hell, to experience the pain Mia and I suffered in our past lives. Looking at Lily’s unfazed, smug expression, I smirked. Still happy? Fool. Your turn is coming soon. 09 The wedding had become such a mess that it couldn’t proceed for the time being. Lily threw a fit: “If you don’t solve Brandon’s issue, don’t even think about marrying me today!” Mia, afraid I was in a difficult position, cautiously said, “Should I go talk to that girl?” Then Mia softly spoke well of me to Lily: “Lily, what Brandon did has already been exposed. In this situation, not even a miracle worker could get him out.” Her clear eyes looked at me with worry, a deep, hidden affection in them. Just like back then. I couldn’t help but feel a daze, mocking my own stupidity. It took a lifetime as the price to finally realize. Everything was explained. Only now did I understand the love in her eyes. If she didn’t like me, why would she have secretly funded me back then, helping me make a comeback? Facing two bastards who had bullied and oppressed her, she had mustered the courage to speak up for me. Unfortunately, she ended up paying such a tragic price. Remembering her desperate and sorrowful expression from my past life, I couldn’t help but clench my fists. Soon, Mia, soon. After I deal with Lily. This life, I will definitely make it up to you. 10 “I advise you to think of a way to get Brandon out right now.” “Otherwise, this wedding today, we might as well not have it.” Facing such a situation, she remained relentless and smug. She leaned close to my ear and said provocatively. I glanced at the time. It was time. Time to put an end to the tragedy of my past life. One second, Lily was still smugly waiting to see me rack my brains and look troubled for her. The next, her eyes bulged, and her face turned into a chaotic palette of colors. On the huge screen, a “spectacular” video was playing.

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I’d been secretly married to my CEO husband for six years, and for six years, he’d refused to let our son call him “Dad.” After he missed Leo’s birthday yet again, thanks to his personal assistant, Chloe, I finally pulled out the divorce papers. It was time for Leo and me to leave for good. The man who was always so composed lost control, storming into the office like a madman, demanding to know where I was going. But this time, Leo and I wouldn’t look back. 1 “Mr. Henderson, I’m heading overseas for further studies next month. Here’s my resignation.” My manager’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s so sudden. Are you sure, Olivia?” I offered the excuse I’d carefully rehearsed. “Leo’s father lives in Australia. I’m planning to take Leo there so our family can finally be together.” Mr. Henderson nodded, understanding. “Well, that makes sense. It’s been tough for you raising a child alone here; we all thought you were a single mom.” I managed a faint smile. I wasn’t before, but I was about to be. Stepping out of his office, I practically collided with Ethan Miller and Chloe Davis walking toward me. Ethan Miller was my boss, and the father of my son. Seven years ago, I was his personal assistant. One night, a drunken haze turned into a nightmare, and soon after, our son was on the way. This was our sixth year of secret marriage. And his sixth year of refusing to let Leo call him “Dad.” Ethan’s pace was deliberately slow, as if to accommodate the woman by his side. Chloe held a report in one hand and clutched the hem of Ethan’s suit jacket with the other, a sickeningly sweet display. As we brushed past each other, my heart gave a painful little lurch. I couldn’t help but speak. “Ethan…” He paused, his expression chilling. “Ms. Green.” His formal, detached tone was a clear warning, a reminder: This is the office. We are merely colleagues. I understood the unspoken message and pulled my scattered emotions back into myself. “Mr. Miller.” Ethan gave a noncommittal grunt and continued walking, as if I were a stranger on the street. A bitter laugh escaped me, and I swallowed the words about my resignation. It wouldn’t matter to him anyway. My phone screen lit up. It was a text from Leo’s smartwatch. [Mommy, is Daddy coming home for my birthday?] I froze, instinctively turning my head. I saw Ethan leaning in to talk to Chloe, his head bent close to hers. Someone passed by, and he instinctively pulled Chloe protectively into his arms, his eyes filled with an undeniable tenderness. Swallowing the bitter ache in my chest, I still sent Ethan a message. [It’s Leo’s birthday tonight. Are you free?] Across the hallway, I watched him pick up his phone. Less than three seconds later, he put it down, his expression unchanging. Staring at the chat screen, still devoid of a reply, I laughed, a sharp, self-deprecating sound. Olivia Green, haven’t you learned your lesson yet? What do you expect from a heart that was always cold? I shoved my phone back into my pocket, took a deep breath, and walked away. Ethan Miller, you’d be free very soon. 2 After leaving the office, I went straight to Leo’s preschool. The moment he saw me, Leo’s first words were, “Mommy, it’s my birthday today!” His second: “Mommy, will Daddy celebrate with me?” On the bustling street, my eyes instantly welled up. “Your daddy, he…” Before I could finish, my phone chimed. Ethan had finally replied. [Free. Coming home.] A surge of surprise and joy rushed through me. I practically shouted, “Don’t worry, Leo, Daddy’s coming home!” Leo clapped his hands, then threw himself into my arms, bouncing with excitement. In six years of marriage, this was the first time Ethan had ever agreed to celebrate Leo’s birthday. That evening, I cooked a table full of Leo’s favorite dishes, and he finished his homework early, eyes wide with anticipation. One hour, two hours, three hours… I sent text after text, each more hopeful than the last. But, as usual, there was no reply. Leo seemed to understand. He looked at me, his small voice filled with caution. “Mommy, is Daddy too busy?” A pang of pain hit my chest. I wanted to explain, to defend, but no words came out. Finally, all I could say was, “It’s okay. Mommy will always be with you.” Leo didn’t ask again. He quietly picked up his birthday hat. “Mommy, can you put it on me?” I nodded, reaching for it. But my eyes caught a glimpse of Chloe Davis’s latest Instagram story. [Such a perfect day. Loved every minute.] The accompanying photo was a gourmet meal from a high-end restaurant. Though her face wasn’t visible, I immediately noticed the wedding band peeking out from the corner of the frame. It was the ring I’d specifically chosen for our wedding. But he’d always worn it on his pinky finger, a deliberate choice, I knew, to avoid any suggestion of commitment. The irony burned. The ring meant to symbolize our marriage was his declaration of single status. On our son’s sixth birthday, he was having a candlelit dinner with his mistress at a fancy restaurant. All the bitterness within me transformed into a chilling calm. I ‘liked’ the photo, then put my phone down. I turned to Leo and placed the birthday hat on his head. “Happy birthday, Leo.” In the soft candlelight, Leo closed his eyes and pressed his hands together. “My birthday wish is to be with Mommy forever.” I picked up my phone and captured the moment. The thought of leaving, which had been a seedling in my mind, now fully blossomed into a towering tree. “Okay,” I said, my voice firm. “Mommy promises you that.” That night, neither of us mentioned Ethan again. It was as if our home had always only belonged to the two of us. After Leo fell asleep, I pulled the divorce papers from the drawer, already prepared. The last shred of doubt in my heart finally dissolved. At two in the morning, Ethan finally came home. When he saw the cake on the table, a flicker of regret, or perhaps just annoyance, crossed his face. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I forgot.” I found it laughable. All those messages, all those reminders on his phone. Had he truly not seen them? Or was the sweetness of his other life simply too intoxicating, making him forget everything else? I took out the divorce papers, turning to the last page, and handed them to him, forcing myself to sound composed. “Could you sign this, please…” Before I could finish, Ethan’s phone rang. Chloe’s slightly panicked voice drifted from the speaker. “Mr. Miller, I think the power’s out at my place. Could you come stay with me? I’m so scared.” Ethan instantly stood up, his eyes flashing with urgency. “Wait there. I’m on my way.” He hung up, then, without even glancing at the document, scribbled his signature. I stepped back, silently watching him leave. Ethan Miller, you will forever remember this. This home is the one you deliberately abandoned. 3 The next day, I went back to the office to hand over my work. Ethan approached me, offering a beautifully wrapped gift box. “This is for Leo’s birthday. I forgot to give it to him yesterday.” I paused, then took the gift and opened it. It was a small dog toy. Leo’s biggest fear was dogs. When he was five, Ethan took him to an amusement park. Midway through, he spotted a friend and let go of Leo’s hand. My young son got lost in the crowd. When we finally found him, he was huddled on the side of the road, trembling from fear of a stray dog. Since then, dogs had been Leo’s permanent nightmare. And the very person responsible for that trauma was now giving him a dog toy as a gift. I couldn’t tell if anger or disappointment was stronger. I casually put the box aside. “Thanks,” I said, my voice flat. Ethan looked at me strangely, then seemed to remember something. “Chloe’s apartment lost power, so I’m having her stay at the house.” “Don’t come to work today. Go back, pack some things, and take Leo to stay somewhere else for a couple of days.” His words, light as air, struck me like a heavy hammer. I stared at him in disbelief. “Are you saying you want to kick Leo and me out for Chloe Davis?” Ethan frowned. “Don’t put it like that. It’s just temporary.” “Since we agreed to keep our marriage a secret, of course, we need to avoid any suspicion in front of colleagues.” I smiled, a bitter, sarcastic twist of my lips. Just colleagues? Just avoiding suspicion? Or did he feel that Leo and I were simply inconvenient, a secret he preferred to keep hidden from the world as he pursued his new love? I didn’t want to look at him anymore. I sat back at my desk and resumed work. “Got it,” I said, my voice devoid of emotion. “I’ll pack our things as quickly as possible and take Leo. We won’t disturb you.” I was leaving anyway. A little sooner or later made no difference. Seeing me agree so readily, Ethan seemed taken aback. He opened his mouth, his tone unusually softened. “I’ll make it up to you both.” I didn’t look up, only remained silent. The damage was done. No amount of compensation could erase it. Back home, I packed our luggage and took Leo out. As I opened the door, I ran right into Ethan, who was returning with Chloe. He was effortlessly wheeling Chloe’s luggage with one hand, practically radiating ‘boyfriend of the year’ vibes. Our eyes met, and I distinctly saw a flicker of panic in his. Chloe let out a little gasp and asked, “Ms. Green, why are you at Mr. Miller’s house?” At her question, my first instinct was to pull Leo behind me, shielding him from her view. “I…” “They’re my relatives,” Ethan cut me off, his voice clipped, “just staying here temporarily.” His hand, gripping Chloe’s suitcase, tightened visibly. It wasn’t the first time. But each time I heard him deny us, my heart still twisted in pain. I was about to speak, but Leo beat me to it. “Hello, sir.” I spun around, disbelief warring with pain, only to see Leo’s eyes were slightly red-rimmed. “Mommy, let’s go.” All my words caught in my throat. I managed a strained smile and whispered, “Okay.” As we walked past him, Ethan grabbed my arm. 4 He stared at me, disbelief etched on his face. “Leo… what did he call me?” I smiled, a thin, cutting line. “Isn’t that what you always wanted, Mr. Miller?” For six years of our secret marriage, Ethan hadn’t just kept our relationship hidden. He had also actively refused to let Leo call him “Dad.” The only difference now was, then, he forced Leo to call him “Uncle.” Now, Leo was choosing to distance himself, to call him “Sir.” I lowered my eyes, tugging hard to free my arm, but his grip was unyielding. Ethan looked at me, his gaze complex. “Just give me a few days.” “I’ll explain it to Leo.” I reminded him, “Chloe’s waiting for you. Let go.” Ethan seemed to snap back to reality, reluctantly releasing my arm. I let out a dismissive snort, then took Leo’s hand and started to leave. But Ethan suddenly called out to us. “Wait.” He ran back to his car, pulled out a cake box, and handed it to me. “Happy birthday, Leo.” Chloe piped up at just the right moment, her voice sugary sweet. “Oh, Mr. Miller actually bought this cake for me, but it’s your son’s birthday, Ms. Green, so please don’t be offended!” The cake in my hands instantly felt like a thousand pounds. I was about to give it back, but then I saw the spark of surprise and anticipation in Leo’s eyes. My heart softened, and I hesitated. Leo, unaware of the adult war being waged around him, looked expectantly at Ethan. “Can you eat it with me?” Ethan hesitated for only a moment before agreeing. Leo cheered and ran into the living room, urging me to open the cake. I ruffled his hair and quickly cut slices. But the smile on my face froze the moment the cake touched Leo’s lips. “Spit it out! Don’t eat it!” I snatched the cake from Leo’s hand, almost frantically, my expression wild. Ethan’s face immediately darkened. “Olivia Green, are you out of your mind?” I looked up, my eyes burning. “Leo is allergic to mango, Ethan! Didn’t you know that?” At my words, Ethan’s face quickly filled with panic. “I’m sorry,” he stammered. “I didn’t know.” Sorry. From the moment Leo was born until now, I had heard that word countless times. Leo seemed to understand. He looked at Ethan, his expression blank, his eyes no longer holding any expectation. “It’s okay,” he whispered, burying his face in my embrace. “It’s normal that they don’t know.” He wouldn’t look at Ethan again. No longer hesitating, I picked Leo up and walked out. Even as I left the villa, I could still feel Ethan’s apologetic, panicked gaze on my back. But this time, Leo and I felt nothing. 5 Leaving the house, I went straight to the office and quickly cleared out my desk. I had planned to say a proper goodbye, but now, it seemed unnecessary. I placed the signed divorce papers on the table and let out a long breath. With our luggage, I took Leo to the airport. Before we boarded the plane, I asked Leo, “Will you be angry that Mommy’s taking you away?” He shook his head, pressing his cheek against mine. “I just want Mommy.” My tears finally broke free. All the pain transformed into a profound sense of release. I pulled out my phone and blocked Ethan’s number from every contact list. Ethan Miller, goodbye forever. The next day, Ethan arrived at the office on time. After what happened yesterday, he’d been restless, his mind unsettled. He clicked on his email, and a message with the subject line “Approved” popped up. “Resignation Request?”

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In the empty gym, I knelt on a yoga mat, my body posed in various ways by unseen, strong hands. It had been so long since I’d felt that kind of release, and in my mind, the deepest desires simmering within me were finally unleashed. Until, in my fantasy, one of them whispered into my ear, “Daisy, do you prefer it from the front or the back?” “Both… I like both…” My name is Daisy Miller, and I own a gym. To outsiders, I had it all. Graduating from a performing arts school, I was pretty and fit, and I married Mark, a beefy bodybuilder. Everyone must have imagined I lived a life of constant ecstasy. But the truth? That was a whole different story. Ever since Mark decided to enter the National Bodybuilding Championship two months ago, he hadn’t touched me once. No matter how much I flirted with him, even going as far as to pull down his pajama pants, the answer was always the same: “Haven’t I told you? I’m abstaining until after the competition.” “Not a single drop of protein can be wasted!” Watching Mark walk off to the guest room, clutching a pillow, a hollow ache settled in my chest. All that man cared about was lifting weights, hoarding his ‘premium protein’ to burn it all on gym equipment. He didn’t spare a thought for how long his wife had been craving intimacy. Didn’t he worry I’d stray? The next day, as I changed in the gym, I seethed internally. The fitness industry was cutthroat, and profits were slim. Luckily, Mark had a reputation in the bodybuilding world, drawing in plenty of clients. But there was a downside. Over time, our regular clientele became nothing but a bunch of muscleheads, with hardly any women around. I knew, deep down, that these gym bros stayed not just for Mark’s professional guidance, but more importantly, because they all wanted to sleep with me. While I despised the industry trend of using looks to retain clients, I found myself reluctantly bowing to reality. Every three days, I scheduled a “Spin-Cycle Special.” On Spin-Cycle days, every single member showed up. I’d change into a thong and low-rise yoga pants, dim the lights, crank up the DJ music to maximum hype, and lead the class from the front, wearing my headphones. As the movements grew more intense, I’d deliberately arch my back, raising my hips to expose a few inches of butt cleavage, swaying provocatively. In the floor-to-ceiling mirror at the front, I could clearly see the muscleheads staring, their eyes fixated on my ass and the distinct outline of my bikini line. Initially, every time I did this, I felt deeply embarrassed. The yoga pants were so thin and tight, it was practically like being nude. But somewhere along the line, this secret, audacious display began to fill me with a thrill I’d never known. Especially when those men, thinking I couldn’t hear them over my headphones, breathed heavily and mumbled lewd comments about my rear. It made my skin tingle, as if I was being zapped by electricity. “The boss lady’s waist… that big, white ass, she really knows how to move it…” “So round and firm, just makes you want to take a bite…” “If I were her husband, I’d keep her in bed all day!” Their filthy whispers made my face flush, a mix of shame and heightened pleasure. I twisted my hips harder, the movements growing wilder, revealing more… and more. Yes, just like men liked hearing women moan, I liked hearing men spout dirty talk. It made me feel incredibly good, incredibly aroused. Normally, after these unspoken “benefits” were over, we’d all hit the showers, change, and head home. But for some reason, after today’s spin class, seeing the longing, disappointed looks in those muscleheads’ eyes, my long-empty body urged me to keep provoking them. So I put down my bag, turned, and walked to the dumbbell rack. I spread my legs, arched my butt, bent forward, and gripped a barbell, once again showcasing my round backside to them. “Ma’am, that’s not the right posture… you’ll hurt your back…” Before I could even lift the barbell, a young, muscular man stepped forward. He placed a hand on my lower back and another on the inside of my thigh. So hard! That was my first sensation upon touching a man’s body again. I snuck a peek back. It was Alex Stone, a new member who’d joined two days ago. I hadn’t realized how powerfully built he was, and his body heat was scorching! “When doing deadlifts, you need to engage your back, glutes, and thighs…” Alex didn’t let go. He held my bare, slender waist and pressed close from behind, then reached down to pat my lower abdomen, thigh, and back, forcing my butt to arch even higher. “Hips up… yes… just like that… spread your legs a little wider…” As Alex guided me, he kept pressing his lower abdomen into my butt, occasionally brushing a sensitive spot. As an adult woman, I knew exactly what he was doing. And I also knew that my firm, elastic curves were clearly exciting him. This was the first time in two months I’d been this close to a man. So I didn’t stop him. Instead, I moved with his rhythm, slightly bending my knees, subtly swaying my hips, gently grinding against his lower abdomen. All I could think was, If I licked his abs, he’d probably be incredibly sensitive. With a body this strong, he must be amazing in bed. Finally, my body went limp, and I couldn’t hold the barbell any longer. It crashed to the floor with a “thud.” Only then did I realize I was completely surrounded by men. The one pressing against me from behind wasn’t even Alex anymore; it was an even taller, stronger musclehead. “You… you guys keep working out. I… I need to shower.” Finally, I couldn’t bear their ravenous gazes any longer. I bolted into the shower room like a thief and stripped off my clothes. The water poured down from the showerhead, splashing over my bare skin, but it couldn’t extinguish the fire raging within me. If… if I hadn’t run, they would have pounced, torn my clothes off. I trembled, goosebumps rising all over my skin. I would have been… overwhelmed, maybe even taken by several of them at once. My hands trembled on the wall, and I instinctively arched my back, hips thrust out. My mind raced with forbidden images of a man in front, one behind, gripping my hair, holding my waist… A forbidden shiver coursed through me, turning into a desperate excitement. I reached down, my fingers exploring—

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“Godmother, open wide.” The words barely registered. Tonight, I lay naked, clutching a pillow, my hips arched high, head thrown back in a submissive arch, sandwiched between two strong men. “Mmmph… I can’t… it’s too much… too much…” I was a widow. Since my husband passed, I’d poured my heart and soul into raising my son, Leo, hoping he’d make something of himself. But one ordinary night, things began to slide into a chasm beyond my control. That evening, I was woken by a full bladder and groggily made my way toward the bathroom. Yet, as I passed Leo’s room, I noticed his door was ajar, and faint, muffled sounds of gasping drifted out. So late, and Leo’s still awake? I crept closer, then froze. Through the crack, I saw him on his bed, pleasuring himself. A black lace thong was draped over his face. I bit down on my lip. Although I’d had my suspicions, seeing it laid bare sent a scorching flush through me. What made my breathing hitch even more was the screen of Leo’s phone, clutched in his other hand. At first, I assumed it was just one of his private videos. But when the faint, disturbingly familiar sounds from the speaker reached me, I realized it was a video of him in bed with a woman. And the woman pinned beneath him, clutching a pillow, thrusting her hips wildly to meet his rhythm, was none other than Leo’s godmother, Denise. Denise was my college friend, my closest confidante. Years ago, we’d both been pregnant around the same time and joked that if we had a boy and a girl, we’d tie our families together. If we had two boys or two girls, they’d become godchildren to the other. But I never in my wildest dreams imagined her taking her ‘godmother’ duties right to his bed! I couldn’t bear to watch another second. I hurried back to my room without even making it to the bathroom, my mind racing as I sat on my bed. My son was at the peak of his vitality; every time I washed his underwear, I found evidence of nocturnal emissions. It was natural for him to have needs. But why, why with Denise? My thoughts involuntarily drifted to my own godson, Alex. Every time he saw me, he’d hug me tight, kissing my cheek. He’d say he was giving me a massage, but his hands would invariably stray, roaming over me. I used to feel a little smug, thinking I still had my charm. Now, thinking back, he must have been interested in me all along. Especially when he’d ask during our ‘massages,’ “Godmother, did that feel good?” It was utterly mortifying. Just then, a soft knock came at my door. “Mom, are you asleep?” I glanced down at my lace nightgown. Two thin straps barely supported my pale, soft breasts, and the sheer skirt offered little coverage. I pulled a throw over my legs before telling him to come in. Leo, clad only in boxers, pushed the door open, his expression odd. I instinctively crossed my arms, shielding the parts my nightgown didn’t quite cover. “What is it, Leo?” “Tomorrow, I want Godmother and Alex to come visit.” I bit my lower lip. I hadn’t expected him to approach me about this in the middle of the night. I wasn’t ready to face Denise. Especially with my son so full of vigor – if they got carried away, should I just leave them to it? Denise usually seemed delicate and fragile, but she had a naturally alluring face, a waist like a serpent’s, breasts full and rounded, and buttocks firm and lush like peaches – the kind of figure that made men go wild. She was at an age of intense vitality, capable of draining even the strongest man dry. Wouldn’t such frequent activity affect Leo’s energy? But looking at his hopeful expression, I relented. The next evening, I tidied the house, welcoming Denise and Alex through the door. Alex was taller than Leo, well over six feet, and with his love for fitness and basketball, his physique was astonishingly well-built. As soon as he stepped inside, he swept me into a hug, unabashedly burying his face in my chest, rubbing against me. “Godmother, I missed you so much!” “Godmother, your breasts are so soft, so much bigger than my mom’s, and they smell incredible.” “Oh, stop it, you! What are you doing?” I flushed crimson. “You’re a grown man, still wanting milk?” “It’s not like I haven’t had them before, Godmother. Let me taste them again.” With that, Alex directly pulled down my neckline and began kissing and sucking at my chest, almost tearing my bra in the process. I tried to push him away, but he wouldn’t budge. Not until he’d sucked greedily a few times, satisfying his craving, did he finally let me go. “Godmother, you look truly beautiful today.” Perhaps it was the fire sparked within me by Leo and Denise’s secret, but I found myself strangely enjoying Alex’s awestruck gaze tonight. My choice of a form-fitting, low-cut short dress had certainly paid off. Denise, too, seemed to have dressed up. Though a widow, she wore a striking red dress, her alluring, upturned eyes radiating an intoxicating blend of innocence and brazen allure. She exuded the sensual air of a seasoned woman. There was no need to ask; my son must have been… nourishing her. I shot a resentful glare at Leo. That rascal, so much energy, but he shouldn’t squander it like that! Denise, unaware I knew their secret, openly settled beside Leo. They even shared a drink, their eyes locked in an almost inappropriate way, a sickly sweet gaze that stretched like taffy, her expression the shy demeanor of a new bride. Leo’s hand was under the table, and if I wasn’t mistaken, his hand was on Denise’s thigh, maybe even lower. Before long, Denise’s cheeks were flushed, soft whimpers escaped her lips, and she practically melted onto Leo’s lap. Though I couldn’t see what they were doing, the wet, sticky sounds she made—”gurgles and squishes”—were both utterly mortifying and incredibly arousing. That little hussy, was she… pleasuring him down there? My body felt hot, and a sense of urgency began to prickle. If Alex noticed, it would be over for me. Thankfully, Alex’s attention was fully on me; he hadn’t even glanced their way. “Godmother, I’ve learned a few new special pressure points. Let me give you a massage!” I didn’t dare stay in the living room. Taking his hand, I led him to the master bedroom and lay face down on the bed. To my surprise, when Alex placed his hands on my buttocks, I didn’t feel any discomfort. Perhaps it was the wine, or perhaps the countless suggestive interactions over the years had accustomed me to something like this inevitably happening. So not only did I not refuse, I even lifted my hips slightly to make it easier for him to pull down my dress. “Godmother, your backside is so beautiful.” My face was pressed into the pillow, my disheveled long hair falling, covering my face and, mercifully, my blush. But as Alex’s hands grew bolder, my legs began to tremble. A forbidden thrill, a rush of excitement from doing something wrong, spread through me. My butt cheeks involuntarily clenched, then relaxed, then clenched again. My unprecedented submission emboldened Alex further. As he unhooked my bra, he continued, “And your skin is so fair, like a cream cake.” Then, his warm breath suddenly ghosted over my lower back, and he gently bit my backside. His warm, moist tongue traced a path from my tailbone, up the curve of my waist and hip, all the way to my neck, and then to behind my ear. “Oh…” I shuddered. It tickled. It tickled so much. It was a tickle that went straight to my core, like an electric shock. I involuntarily arched my upper body, trembling uncontrollably. My period was still a week away, and this was when my desire was at its peak. I unconsciously curled my toes, biting down hard on my lower lip. I dared not open my mouth, straining every muscle in my body to fight the intense, aching numbness that reached my very core, terrified I would let out a shameless, wanton moan. Finally, when I regained my composure, I collapsed back onto the bed, breathing heavily. “Godmother has been so good to you, and this is how you treat her?” “It’s precisely because Godmother is so good to me that I can’t bear to see you widowed any longer.” Alex leaned down, biting my earlobe. “I’ll make you… feel like you’re flying…” Just then, the bedroom door suddenly opened. Leo, naked, carrying a flushed Denise in his arms, walked in and laid her down beside me. As if on cue, Alex abruptly pulled down my panties…

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I was pinching the small of my athletic younger brother’s back, trying to get a new sweater on him. His grunt coincided with my phone ringing. “It’s too small, I can’t get it on.” “No way! I bought it according to your measurements.” “It’s stuck! Easy, ouch, ouch, ouch.” “Okay, okay, I’m helping, aren’t I?” I gave it a good tug and cooed, “There you go, sweetie. All better now, let your big sis see.” “You sure?” Later, I heard that the boss took a mysterious call during a meeting, his face growing darker by the second. He didn’t say a word, just reamed out 28 department heads until they were teary-eyed. 1 My brother pointed at my phone. Only then did I realize I was on a call, the screen clearly displaying the name [Ethan Vance]. I picked up the phone, about to explain, but only heard the dial tone. He’d hung up. Not long after, a message came through: [If you’re recovered then get your ass back to work you’re not the CEO’s wife yet to be acting all high and mighty.] Two lines, no punctuation, which my brain automatically converted into his calm, cold tone. He must have heard me talking to my brother, full of energy, and figured I was recovered and just slacking off at home. Damn capitalist. I quickly replied: [Understood, Mr. Vance. I’ll be back tomorrow.] The “typing” indicator appeared on his end but nothing came through. He probably wanted to chew me out but held back. That mouth of his, never held back when he wanted to criticize someone. But I’d been with him for four years and this was my first time off, and it was sick leave. The next day, my colleague, Deb, saw me and immediately warned me to be careful. “He’s been in a foul mood. Yelled at all the VPs until they cried in yesterday’s meeting.” I timed it perfectly, made a cup of coffee, and knocked on his office door, bringing him the day’s schedule to review. “Mr. Vance, good morning. Here’s today’s agenda. “Two regular meetings during the day, and a dinner with the Sterling Group tonight.” He didn’t touch the coffee. His long fingers rested casually on the desk, his voice icy. “Have the new girl, Isabelle, join me for dinner tonight. You don’t need to go.” “Wh— Alright, Mr. Vance. I’ll let her know to prepare.” I swallowed my questions and quietly exited his office. He disliked subordinates questioning his decisions, and hated people prying even more. I smoothed over my irritation and walked over to Isabelle Reid. Upon hearing the news, Isabelle covered her mouth dramatically, her eyes glistening with tears. “Really, Sophia? I’m sorry, I’m just so excited…” Deb, never one to miss a chance to stir the pot, leaned in. “Isabelle, you’re really something. Only been filling in for a few days and you’re already aiming to take your mentor’s spot.” “Not at all! I still have so much to learn from Sophia. But Mr. Vance is so sweet, isn’t he?” Sweet? I turned my head and met Deb’s equally puzzled gaze. 2 I hired Isabelle a month ago, after my surgery date was confirmed. Although Deb offered to cover for me during my leave, I declined her kindness. I had my own plans. Four years ago, right after college, fate threw me at Ethan Vance’s side. Back then, he’d just left Vance Holdings to start his own company. In just four short years, he built it into an industry leader. I was by his side, benefiting from his success, but also living in his shadow. Now, everyone in the company respectfully called me Sophia, but only because I stood next to him. In reality, the doubts never ceased. Even in Ethan’s mind, I was just someone easily replaceable. Only by leaving him could I prove that I’d lasted this long by his side because of my own abilities. Besides, I’d heard when I first joined the company. He took one look at me and decided to hire me. All because I bore a resemblance to his old flame who lived abroad. I hadn’t quite believed it. Until the day Isabelle came for her interview. Ethan looked up, a flicker of recognition in his eyes, as if seeing an old acquaintance. Only then did I start to believe the rumors were true. Except this time, when people joked, they no longer mentioned that “one that got away.” “Isabelle looks a bit like Sophia, doesn’t she?” “Looks like Mr. Vance has a type.” Late at night, staring at a photo on my phone, I gradually understood. Isabelle didn’t just look like me; she looked even more like his old flame. The photo on my phone was a picture of a palm-sized photograph. One day, about a year ago, the cleaner found a photo in the trash after tidying the office and brought it to me. “Ms. Bell, Mr. Vance threw this photo in the bin. I don’t know if he still wants it.” “Give it to me, I’ll ask him.” I took the photo. Ethan had a boyish smile, looking about seventeen or eighteen. Next to him stood a girl, pretty, with a radiant smile. They stood together like a golden couple, exuding the same air of privilege, a perfect match. On a whim, I secretly took a picture of the photo with my phone. When I placed the original photo on Ethan’s desk to return it, he glanced at it. His outstretched hand paused mid-air, then retracted. “I threw it out.” “She got married.” I silently cursed myself for being nosy. “Then I’ll shred it before throwing it away, just to be safe.” “Forget it, give it to me.” My fingers had just touched the photo when his hand landed almost simultaneously on top of mine, covering the back of my hand. The moment he looked up, I pulled my hand back, my throat tight. “Okay, Mr. Vance.” The electric warmth that had coursed through me replayed in my mind. Ethan had surely forgotten it long ago. 3 After briefing Isabelle on the dinner etiquette and procedures, Deb pulled me aside. “The days you were out, she was wearing low-cut dresses with slits practically up to her navel.” “You hold back a little. Don’t tell her everything.” I appreciated her concern and chuckled. “Mr. Vance didn’t scold her, so he must like it.” “Besides, I don’t plan on sticking with Ethan Vance forever.” I turned to make coffee. The spoon stirred my thoughts, which gradually settled. Before leaving work, I placed a bottle of milk on Ethan’s desk, as usual. He had his legs lazily propped on the edge of the desk, his silhouette long and lean. “Mr. Vance, I’ve briefed Isabelle on all matters related to tonight’s dinner.” “Remember to drink the milk before you have any alcohol.” He glanced sideways. Looked at the milk bottle, then his gaze landed on my face. “You’ve lost weight.” Then, his tone shifted. “Am I not paying you enough?” “Huh?” I was slightly taken aback, then immediately understood. It had only been an afternoon, and what I’d let slip to Deb had already reached his ears. A bit fast, but not unexpected. I said seriously, “Mr. Vance, I was originally planning to tender my resignation once Isabelle was fully up to speed.” “Thank you for your guidance these past few years…” “What are they offering?” He frowned slightly, as if discussing a difficult business deal. As if I were an item in a shop window. Anyone could buy me, as long as the price was high enough. I shook my head firmly but gently. “It’s not about the money.” “Then what is it? Because I asked Isabelle to accompany me to dinner, or because you haven’t rested enough from your illness?” “If something is making you unhappy or uncomfortable, you can tell me.” His tone actually had a hint of coaxing. The golden evening sun slanted in, a ray landing right on his Adam’s apple as it bobbed. His chiseled face was in shadow, as beautiful as a sculpture. Seeing I wasn’t speaking, he reached up, loosened his tie, and undid two shirt buttons, revealing a sliver of skin on his chest. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. 4 In that instant, an air of desire seemed to bloom in the room. I looked away. In front of employees, he was always impeccably dressed, never giving anyone reason for inappropriate thoughts. Could it be… Isabelle’s flirting had opened up a new world for him? His voice pulled me back to reality. “If it’s because of Isabelle, I can understand. If you mind…” “No, it’s not that,” I quickly explained. “Isabelle is very smart, a very suitable replacement for me.” He adjusted his cuffs, stood up, and undid another shirt button. A hint of lean, firm pectoral muscle was visible. His broad shoulders tapered sharply to a narrow waist, enough to make one blush. I fanned myself with my hand. “Spring weather is so strange. It was so cold yesterday, and so hot today.” “My matter isn’t urgent. I’ll talk to you in detail later.” “Mr. Vance, you should get ready to leave.” “I’ve already told the driver; if you drink too much tonight, he’ll take you directly back to the Vance estate.” He looked at me, his tone cool, his eyes holding a predatory glint. “Don’t worry. If I drink too much, Isabelle can take care of me.” “She can take me back to my place, where I live alone.” “Of course, she could stay the night, if I wanted.” “After all, I’m pretty big—”

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A few days before the wedding, I stumbled upon a viral love story online. Under every one of the blogger’s late-night melancholic posts, an anonymous commenter would reply instantly. Each reply brimmed with deep affection for the blogger. Like other netizens, I was completely captivated by this moving romance. Until one day, the blogger posted a beautiful photo, tinged with tears: 【I know it’s you, but it seems impossible for us. I wish you a happy marriage.】 That person still replied in a heartbeat: 【Anyone but you is just settling.】 My heart plummeted. The person in the photo was none other than my fiancé Ethan Sterling’s childhood sweetheart, Clara Finch. 1 My hand trembled, and the last stroke on the wedding invitation went completely askew. I put down the calligraphy pen and clicked on the original post details, only to find it no longer existed. I inadvertently noticed Clara Finch’s username—【LittlePhalaenopsis】. Looking at the Phalaenopsis orchid design printed on our wedding invitations, my heart jolted. The flowers for our wedding were chosen by Ethan; they were Phalaenopsis orchids. In Clara Finch’s follow list, I found an account with a Phalaenopsis orchid as its background. 【My family found a marriage partner for me. I’ll just let her do the laundry, cook, have kids, and bear the risk of her figure changing for you.】 【Marrying her is a task I have to complete, but being with you is my life’s true wish.】 So, what I thought was a marriage материалов for love was just Ethan finding a tool for procreation. If you set aside me, the sacrificed party, their so-called love seemed quite “deep.” I rubbed my sore wrist, gazing at the pile of wedding invitations I’d spent the afternoon handwriting. A sharp pain pierced my chest, and my vision blurred. At seven in the evening, Ethan came home, casually tossing his suit jacket into my arms and asking with a frown: “Why isn’t dinner ready yet?” Due to years of business dinners, Ethan had a sensitive stomach. To take care of him, I quit my job and meticulously prepared stomach-friendly meals every day. Thinking about it now, isn’t that what a housekeeper does? “I didn’t make any,” I replied. “So you want me to eat that garbage takeout? Lila Shaw, do you think just because we’re about to get married and make it official, you can start slacking off?” My voice was hoarse: “About the wedding…” Ethan turned around, annoyed: “I told you to handle it. Can’t you see I’m swamped every day?” I met his impatient gaze, no longer tiptoeing around: “Let’s just forget about the wedding.” It took Ethan a moment to process. He stared at me, puzzled: “Forget it? Weren’t you the one crying and begging for a grand wedding?” I gave a bitter smile: “No wedding, and no need to get married. Let’s break up.” Seeing my swollen eyes, he finally sensed something was wrong. “Are you okay, Lila? You were the one who insisted on marrying me. My parents condescended to meet yours and even specifically allowed your… less well-off relatives to attend. Now everyone knows we’re getting married, and you’re saying forget it. What are you trying to pull now?” Ethan, always cold and arrogant in front of me, would bend over backward to cheer up another woman under her posts. For five years of our relationship, I was always the one actively sharing life’s little joys, while he was like a robot, just replying “Hmm” or “Okay.” Sometimes, if I accidentally sent an emoji, he’d call me childish. Turns out, it wasn’t that he was reserved. Indifference. It was just because he didn’t love me. “I said, I don’t want to get married. You don’t have to force yourself anymore. Wouldn’t it be better to focus on protecting your Phalaenopsis?” Ethan froze, his face instantly darkening: “Two years ago it was a photo in my wallet, last year it was a plane ticket, and now it’s a post? Can you stop making such a fuss!” With that, Ethan walked into the bedroom and slammed the door shut. I felt like all my strength had been drained, and I collapsed onto the sofa. Every year, I’d find new evidence of Ethan’s lack of commitment to our relationship, always trying to salvage it with big fights. I forgot that leaving is the best escape. 2 When I woke up the next day, I found a light blanket covering me. Ethan was sitting nearby, leisurely sipping an Americano. He had a tall, imposing figure and a distinguished air, things that had made my heart flutter countless times. Seeing me awake, he said gently, “Today is Grandpa’s 80th birthday. I took a special day off from the company. Let’s go wish him a happy birthday together.” In the past, to accommodate Ethan’s schedule, the Sterlings always arranged old Mr. Finch’s birthday on a weekend. I clicked on Clara Finch’s account and, sure enough, saw her IP address had changed from Sweden to San Francisco. They called it the old man’s birthday banquet, but it was really just a welcome home party for Clara. Fine. Since the Sterlings would all be there, it was the perfect opportunity for me to announce the cancellation of the wedding. Seeing me start to put on makeup, Ethan frowned: “Haven’t I told you not to wear heavy makeup? Who are you dressing up so beautifully for?” After college, several guys had pursued me. Thinking back, Mr. Sterling had strongly pushed for Ethan and me to get together, probably because he valued my simple family background, my no-makeup-for-work demeanor, and my obedient nature. He figured once I married into the Sterling family, I’d be a contented, non-threatening housewife, focused on husband and children. I finished my makeup, put on high heels I hadn’t worn in ages, and retrieved the handwritten calligraphy birthday gift from the study. It was rare for Ethan to see me in full makeup. A flicker of surprise crossed his eyes, but he quickly suppressed it. 3 As we opened the door to the Sterling mansion, I saw Clara Finch laughing and chatting amidst a group of elders. When Ethan arrived, Clara gasped, then skipped over and threw herself into Ethan’s arms. “Ethan, my dearest! I haven’t seen you in years! Did you miss me?” Ethan glanced at me, slightly uneasy. I ignored him and walked straight to old Mr. Finch, presenting the framed calligraphy: “Grandpa, happy 80th birthday.” Clara covered her mouth, feigning surprise: “Lila, you’re giving calligraphy too? Three months ago, I specially flew to England and spent $150,000 to commission a piece from the calligraphy master, Adrian Quillan. Whose work is yours?” “I wrote it myself.” Clara immediately had someone lay both pieces on the table for comparison. “I don’t know much about calligraphy, so I can’t tell good from bad.” Ethan said disdainfully, “How can her amateurish stuff compare to a master’s?” I nodded. “Master Quillan is 76 this year. Everyone in the field knows he stopped writing in cursive after 70 and only does formal script. This cursive piece by Master Quillan is indeed rare.” Clara’s expression changed. “I have a senior fellow apprentice who is Master Quillan’s student. I’ll call him right now and ask.” Clara instantly looked flustered. Ethan slapped my phone out of my hand. He snatched up my calligraphy, tore it into pieces with a few rips, threw it on the floor, and stomped on it hard. “Are a master’s affairs something someone like you can speculate about?” Before I could say anything, Clara started crying pitifully. “It’s all my fault. Why did I have to mention the $150,000? Lila’s probably never even seen that much money in her life.” Ethan pulled Clara into his arms. “There, there, Clara, don’t cry. She’s just unsophisticated and petty. Be good, you won’t be pretty if you keep crying.” Mrs. Sterling said sharply, “Lila, you’ve been here for so long. Why aren’t you in the kitchen yet?” Every time I visited, I would cook a table full of delicious food for them. My filial piety towards the elders was, in their eyes, no different from a housekeeper’s. Mrs. Sterling said gently to Clara, “Clara, dear, tell us what you want to eat. Lila can make it.” Clara pointed at my hands. “No wonder Lila’s hands are so rough. It must be from all the cooking. Not like mine; these hands only know how to play the piano and get manicures.” Ethan smirked. “That’s about all she’s good for.” I crossed my arms. “Sorry, these hands of mine aren’t cooperating. My carpal tunnel is acting up. I can’t serve anyone today.” 4 Mrs. Sterling frowned. “I just thought your cooking was decent and wanted to give you a chance to show off. How did it turn into serving us? What, not even married into the family yet and you’re already trying to pin labels on me?” Mr. Sterling slammed the table: “Enough! Today is Grandpa’s 80th birthday. Why are you all arguing over such a small matter?” Mr. Sterling had always been relatively nice to me. I’d wait until after dinner to bring it up. Even without my cooking, a table full of dishes was quickly laid out. Clara had already taken a seat next to Ethan. I was about to sit further away, but Ethan pulled me back. “Still mad after a few words?” I couldn’t be bothered to argue anymore. Clara bit her chopsticks, pouting. “Ethan, dearest, I want some of that fish roe.” Ethan stood up, brought the fish roe over, and thoughtfully placed it in front of Clara. Then, uncharacteristically, he put a large shrimp on my plate. I picked the shrimp off my plate and said coldly, “Don’t you know I’m allergic to shrimp?” Ethan slammed his chopsticks down. “Eat if you want to, leave if you don’t! We’re getting married in a month, what’s all this drama about? You’re such a handful!” My temper flared. “Grandpa, I’m sorry, I really can’t take it anymore. I’ve decided not to marry Ethan Sterling.” “What?!” Mr. and Mrs. Sterling shrieked in unison. Old Mr. Finch walked over unsteadily and grasped my hand. “Why suddenly not getting married? You’re already engaged, how can you not get married?” Ethan’s face was dark; he turned stiffly. “All these elders are here. You need to think before you speak!” “It’s precisely because the elders are here that I need to make things clear.” With that, I pulled out my chair and walked out, feeling a sense of relief. Clara whimpered and ran over to tug at my sleeve. “Lila, Lila, are you angry because I’ve been clinging to Ethan? I just haven’t seen him in years and got a little too excited. Please don’t misunderstand.” Ethan looked like he understood completely, pulling Clara to his side with a smirk. He scoffed mockingly, “Let her throw her tantrum. She does this once a year, like clockwork. We’ve spoiled her! Let’s eat, don’t mind her!” 5 I walked back to the villa, the cold wind hitting my face. In less than an hour, my luggage was packed. As I was buying a plane ticket, a notification for Clara’s post popped up. The picture was of a single, ice-white Phalaenopsis orchid, with two hands clasped in the blurred background. 【Haven’t seen you in years, and you give me white Phalaenopsis again. Besides you, who else still treats me like a child?】 The post blew up again, with a stream of【99】【So jealous】scrolling across the screen. But this time, that “Robert” account didn’t appear in the comments. I casually liked it, then swiped out, quickly bought a ticket for an evening flight, and rushed to the airport with my luggage. While going through security, I received a message from Ethan: 【Clara is planning to come work at my company. Tidy up the guest room on the third floor. Remember, no air freshener; she doesn’t like the smell.】 【Still daring not to reply?】 【Clara’s family and mine are old family friends. Don’t project your dirty thoughts onto us. Do I need to explain what ‘old family friends’ means?】 I didn’t reply. Instead, I opened the chat with my parents and told them I was coming home. Opening the door to my parents’ house, I was greeted by the aroma of hot food and their warm embrace. Ethan was always busy, and to take care of him constantly, I hadn’t been home in years. I told them I wasn’t planning to get married. My parents were surprised for a moment, then quickly accepted it. After all, on the day of our engagement, Ethan’s parents had been so snobbish, looking down their noses and openly mocking the precious local homemade gifts my parents brought, making my parents feel incredibly awkward. 6 Ethan must have gone back to the villa and found me gone, because he started calling. The custom ringtone he’d set for me echoed in my ears, over and over. I pressed the power-off button. Then I pulled out some calligraphy paper from under the cabinet, ground the ink, dipped the brush, and started practicing. Soon, the paper was densely covered with my writing. Satisfied, I turned my phone back on and opened the camera to take pictures. A notification for 99+ missed calls from Ethan popped up. I calmly swiped the notification away. After finding a good angle and taking several photos, I uploaded them to my social media. I woke up to find it had gone viral. There was a familiar profile picture in my DMs. It was Leo Bell, a senior from my hometown who was in the university calligraphy club with me. After a pleasant chat, we agreed to meet up tomorrow to catch up. 7 When I saw Leo Bell, he was holding a bouquet of larkspur, symbolizing freedom. Leo smiled shyly, just like the innocent young man from years ago. “I remember you like larkspur.” A delicate fragrance filled the air, and my heavy heart seemed to skip a beat or two unexpectedly. “You actually remembered.” Leo looked at me, his eyes shining like stars: “I remember a lot of things about you.” I felt a little embarrassed: “What should I give you in return?” Leo thought for a moment: “Well, then write a piece of calligraphy for me.” Leo walked me to my door. I didn’t let him leave, excitedly pulling out calligraphy paper: “What would you like me to write?” Leo picked up the inkstick and began to grind it for me. “May Lila be like the free-flying larkspur, and find her freedom in this life,” Leo said slowly, word by word. My brush paused, and my nose tingled. He looked at me quietly, his eyes holding a universe of stars. Once the characters were dry, he carefully wrapped it up as if it were a priceless treasure. “This wish, I’ll need your help to make it come true.” Under his caring gaze, I nodded vigorously. Suddenly, there was an urgent knock on the door. I thought my parents were back. When I opened the door, I saw a haggard-looking Ethan. He had dark circles under his eyes and a short stubble on his chin, looking utterly exhausted. 8 “Lila, why didn’t you tell me you came home…” Ethan’s voice was hoarse. Leo called out from the room: “Is that your aunt and uncle back?” Hearing an unfamiliar male voice, Ethan looked stunned. He gripped my shoulders tightly, demanding sharply: “Who is that man in there? You’ve only been back a few days and you’re already shacking up with a new guy?!”

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1 After ten years of grinding at the company, my boss, convinced my pregnancy was to blame for a drop in performance, tried to force me out. I filed a labor arbitration claim against him and cut off all my business partnerships. Eventually, the company went bankrupt, and the boss faced court enforcement. Desperate and cornered, he blamed everything on me. On the day I was supposed to give birth, he intentionally ran me over with his car in a fit of rage, killing me. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day my boss first started making my life hell. Suddenly, a few lines of comments popped up above my head: [The protagonist’s reborn! Go get ’em! Ruthlessly crush everyone, equally!] [Love watching the protagonist go insane, if it’s not messy, I’m not watching!] … I looked at the floating comments above my head, bewildered. The slight bump of my belly and my hurrying colleagues jolted me awake. I had been reborn! I gasped, taking deep, excited breaths, my eyes welling up. It’s real! It’s real! My baby’s still here. Amber frowned, her face etched with disdain. She rapped a file box sharply on my desk. “Manager Lee, are you dense?” she snapped. “I told you pregnant women aren’t suited for work. Look at you—I’m just trying to brief you on a project, and you start crying! Honestly, first thing in the morning, how unlucky!” Seeing me ignore her, Amber tossed a final remark over her shoulder as she sashayed away. “You can explain to the boss why your sales are down now that you’re pregnant.” I looked down at the date on my phone. On this very day in my previous life, the boss had sent his conniving assistant, Amber, to subtly torment me. At noon, he called me in, using my declining sales performance as an excuse to force me into early maternity leave, even though I was only five months pregnant. In the afternoon, he had me move out of my manager’s office and removed me from the company’s organizational chart. That evening, I received my termination notice. I had worked at this company for ten years; no one had more seniority than me, except the boss himself. The company had grown from a cramped storage room of less than 100 square feet to its current 20,000 square feet. Over those ten years of growth, I had contributed 70% of the company’s revenue. Yet, simply because I was pregnant with my second child at an older age, and my performance wasn’t what it used to be, I was forcibly laid off. My decade of dedication had been utterly wasted on a scumbag. In my previous life, after being laid off, I collected evidence and filed a labor arbitration lawsuit demanding legal compensation. I also severed ties between my loyal clients and the company’s business. Without my clientele, the company’s revenue plummeted, leading to its eventual collapse and bankruptcy. All of Leo’s assets were seized by the court to repay bank loans. Cornered and desperate, Leo blamed everything on me. On the day I was supposed to give birth, he ran me over with his car right outside the hospital in a fit of rage, killing me. Even after hitting me, he wasn’t satisfied, repeatedly running over my body with his car. Now, with a second chance at life, I absolutely would not let that tragedy repeat itself. At noon, in the conference room, lines of comments appeared before my eyes again. 2 [Don’t agree, protag, absolutely do NOT agree to maternity leave!] [This jerk is discarding you after using you, he deserves to rot in hell.] [Just send the boss to jail, then become the boss yourself.] I paused for a second. This time, I certainly wouldn’t agree to maternity leave. Sending the boss to jail seemed like a pretty good option. I declined the iced coffee Leo offered, making no comment on his forced maternity leave demand. “Thank you, Mr. King. The doctor advised me not to drink coffee.” Leo gave an awkward smile, while Amber stood by, seething. “Manager Lee, this coffee was specially handmade for you by Mr. King. Don’t be so ungrateful.” Leo lowered his gaze, smirking, tacitly approving Amber’s behavior. Just then, the comments popped up again. [Go get her, quickly, that scheming bitch! Roast them!] [Isn’t that bitch trying to usurp the original wife?] [Let that witch know the scumbag boss’s wife is pregnant. That’ll infuriate her.] I leaned back in my chair, half-joking, “Assistant Amber is still young. In a couple of days, when you get pregnant, the doctor will tell you if you can drink iced coffee.” Others might not know about the boss and his assistant’s frequent office rendezvous, but I certainly did. It wouldn’t be surprising if she ended up pregnant one day. It was just a pity for his long-suffering wife at home, toiling to give him a third child, a son to ‘honor the ancestors.’ Amber’s face turned green with rage. “Leo, fire her! Fire her now!” I stared coldly at Leo, speaking unhurriedly, “Mr. King, your wife must be seven months pregnant by now, right? You’ll be a dad of three soon. You must know what a pregnant woman can and cannot eat.” I paused, “Right, Mr. King?” Leo nodded, his face flushed with embarrassment. I turned to Amber, smirking. Amber’s eyes turned red with fury; she looked like she wanted to kill me. I let out a soft laugh, then pressed Leo further, raising my voice to ensure all my colleagues in the outer office could hear. “Mr. King, I’m an old-timer here, a loyal employee to the bone. No one knows my contributions over the years better than you.” My voice sharpened. “I know you’re considering my pregnancy and hard work, but are you really going to fire me just because I won’t drink iced coffee? Using someone and then discarding them isn’t your style, is it?” Playing the moral card, holding someone to account—who couldn’t do that? Outside, everyone was watching the drama unfold. Leo, losing face, could only bite his lip and scold Amber. This time, I wasn’t forced out of the manager’s office, though my approval authority was suspended. Leo also didn’t bring up maternity leave again. I was happy to enjoy my newfound leisure, opening the blinds daily to bask in the sun and sipping plain water. I followed the guidance of the comments, avoiding conflict and deliberately slacking off. I’m a person who finishes what I start, with efficiency. Even if I wasn’t pursuing new business, I still wanted to complete any unfinished tasks for my clients to give them a satisfactory conclusion. My position in the company was now awkward. Many colleagues, accustomed to sucking up, treated people differently based on their status. The water cooler in the office ran empty. I called the facilities team twice, but they ignored me. Left with no choice, I took my cup to the pantry for water, only to run into Amber. “Well, well, well, the old-timer pregnant employee is different, alright. She’s even coming to the pantry to sponge off company resources now.” I had to admit, she was good at provoking me, trying to get a rise out of me. I clenched my cup tightly, glaring at her, truly wanting to smash my thermos into her face. But I knew this little schemer was deliberately trying to anger me. I took a deep breath, calming myself. I kept reminding myself that it wasn’t time to go all out yet. Just endure a little longer. A colleague nearby, Sarah, couldn’t stand it and spoke up for me. “Assistant Amber, it’s normal for Manager Lee to come out for water if her office dispenser is empty.” Amber looked haughty. “Who are you? Don’t you want to work here anymore? She does nothing all day and expects others to change her water. Is she some kind of queen because she’s pregnant? Should everyone bow down to her?” The entire office fell silent. Everyone tried to make themselves scarce. The pantry faced Leo’s office, and a furious Leo, with visible scratch marks on his face, was now standing behind the blinds, watching us. Amber, a fresh graduate, daring to strut around the company like she owned it, was clearly a result of Leo’s implicit approval. Sarah’s face was grim. I narrowed my eyes, making a quiet decision. Half an hour later, Leo came out to make an example of me, clearly siding with Amber. 3 Leo wanted to fire Sarah, the colleague who had just spoken up for me, and demanded that I sign her termination papers. I refused. Amber, having been rebuffed, then had Leo personally accompany her to my office to question why I wouldn’t sign. “Sarah didn’t do anything wrong, and she didn’t resign voluntarily. Why should I sign it?” I challenged. “She’s still under contract. Just because she stood up for me this morning and argued with Assistant Amber, she’s going to be fired in retaliation?” Leo was speechless, his face flushed with anger. The two of them playing this card at such a crucial moment was truly malicious. Sarah had just helped me out this morning, and this afternoon I’m supposed to sign her termination? What would other employees think of me, Skylar? That I’m just like Leo, discarding people after using them? Ridiculous! Amber linked her arm through Leo’s, ostensibly scolding me, but actually fanning Leo’s anger. “Skylar, are you the boss, or is Mr. King the boss? You’re just a lowly employee. Since when does the company’s decisions fall to you?” She smirked. “Are you getting too big for your britches just because your past performance was good?” I noticed the comments section really hated Amber. Whenever she confronted me head-on, new comments would pop up, this time directly citing legal statutes. [Unjust dismissal of an employee during contract period: N+1 compensation. Employees cannot be terminated during pregnancy.] I chuckled, waving my hand at them. “Fine, do what you want. I just want to remind Mr. King: Sarah has been with the company for five years. If you fire her without cause, it’s N+1 compensation. Her base salary is $10,000. You guys can pay up!” I continued, “And I’ve been with the company for twelve years, with a base salary of $15,000. If Assistant Amber doesn’t like me, Mr. King, you can also fire me. Just pay the N+1 compensation.” I leaned in conspiratorially. “But you can’t fire an employee during pregnancy, otherwise it’s against the law, you know!” Amber’s face was livid. She brazenly declared, “Pay then, just pay! Take the money and get out! Pregnant women get double to get out!” Leo immediately slapped Amber across the face, then forced a smile. “What are you talking about? How could I fire you? Sarah’s situation, I simply misspoke.” Amber tried to say something else but clamped her mouth shut after a sharp glare from Leo. I provocatively raised an eyebrow at Amber, feeling like her lungs were about to explode. Leo currently didn’t dare to forcibly terminate me. He would only occasionally send Amber, his tool, to annoy me. And I, too, began to prepare my plan. Many employees at the company had elderly parents and young children, and Sarah’s incident today served as a warning. The external economic environment was tough, and everyone wanted to secure their jobs, unwilling to directly oppose the boss. It had to be said, Leo’s goal was achieved: all my colleagues at the company began to deliberately isolate me. In the department meeting, Leo pointed out that the sales sector I was responsible for had suffered losses and asked everyone for explanations. At first, everyone hung their heads in silence. Leo then directly called on Sarah. Sarah’s face changed dramatically, filled with apprehension for a few seconds, then she bit the bullet. “Manager Lee didn’t consider the company’s actual situation; she didn’t push down costs enough.” After Sarah sat down, various departments involved in different aspects of the process stood up one by one to speak. They all pointed to my personal issues as the cause of the losses. I snorted, watching their performance quietly. Finally, Leo even feigned asking me “why?” 4 Just then, comments popped up again. [It’s a trap! Just make them understand how hard your pregnancy is.] [Exactly, this jerk is just trying to pressure you. Play along.] I leaned lazily in my chair, answering nonchalantly. “I’m getting older, plus I’m pregnant. My body just can’t keep up. Hope everyone understands.” Leo was momentarily speechless. Other colleagues looked down, lost in thought. Just then, Amber, the boss’s mouthpiece, spoke up again. “Don’t use pregnancy as an excuse. If you can’t do the job, just get out and let someone capable take over as manager.” She then added, “Considering Manager Lee’s pregnancy, how about we cut her salary and reassign her role? All those who agree, please raise your hand.” I looked around. Besides Leo and me, everyone raised their hand. Another batch of comments appeared. [OMG, all that just to cut her salary and demote her.] [So disgusting. If the protagonist didn’t have a plan, I’d want her to smack that witch to death.] [Hurry up and get your revenge! I want to see that scumbag and witch bite the dust!] Amber’s face was filled with triumph. She deliberately tried to embarrass me. “It’s a unanimous vote, Skylar. What’s your take?” Comments: [Agree first, then screw them over.] I smiled faintly, forcing a grin. “No problem. I’ll follow the company’s arrangements.” Demotion and salary cut, then forcing me to resign? Excellent! Absolutely excellent! Afterward, many colleagues privately contacted me, apologizing for what happened today. I told them I understood. Some even urged me not to put up with the disdain and simply resign and go home to rest. My husband, seeing me on the phone all evening, asked worriedly if I needed help. I shook my head, refusing. It wasn’t time yet. After my demotion, I immediately posted on social media: “I’ve been reassigned and am no longer responsible for sales. If you need anything, please contact my other colleagues.” For the next two weeks, I lived like a pampered slug, focusing on my health. Because of my non-intervention, the company’s revenue dropped by half! Our company was sales-driven, and everyone, from front-line to support staff, had a salary structure of base pay plus performance bonuses. The more you did, the more you earned. With the sudden drop in revenue and poor performance, employees began to complain. Funds weren’t coming in, forcing them to take out loans to do business. The first to lose patience was Leo. “The company understands you’re pregnant, but why aren’t you handling any business? You need to write a 3,000-word self-reflection and present it at the department meeting.” He lectured, “Don’t slack off just because you’re pregnant. Powerful women in the workplace work until they give birth and then rest. You’re a modern woman; you can’t be lazy.” He added, “As sales manager, you need to set an example for your team.” Just then, the comments popped up angrily. [OMG, since when do modern women have to work until they give birth?] [I really want to slap him twice. He’s an animal with no upbringing.] [Don’t be scared, don’t be scared. The protagonist will take care of him. Let’s wait and see.] I was actually quite angry, but the comments made me laugh. I rolled my eyes, utterly speechless, and kindly reminded him. “Mr. King, you’re a busy man, so you forget things. I’m just an admin now, so I don’t have any performance targets.” I added with a saccharine smile, “And I’m not a ‘powerful woman.’ I need to go home early to prepare for childbirth.” Leo’s face flushed with embarrassment. He strategically took a sip of water. Just then, his phone rang. After he answered, his expression instantly changed. His previous worried frown transformed into a triumphant grin. “It’s good that you have that kind of awareness. The company can still run without you.” He scoffed, “Don’t be so arrogant. If you’re old, go home and rest. Women should prioritize their families.” Watching Leo’s smug retreating figure, I smiled. Excellent. The fish had taken the bait.

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