Category: English

My wife and I were the world’s greatest liars. She lied and told me we were going for a routine check-up. In reality, she was harvesting my heart to save the love of her life. I lied and told her I was going to a private sanitarium to clear my head. In reality, I left signed divorce papers on the counter and vanished to die alone. It wasn’t until three years later, at her lover’s birthday gala, that my wife of four years finally remembered we shared the same birthday. Feeling a rare moment of mercy, she ordered the leftover cake to be sent to the facility where she thought I’d been rotting for three years. The nurse on the other end of the line was shocked: “Ms. Thorne, didn’t you know? Mr. Vance’s body rejected the trauma. He died three years ago.” Serena Thorne sneered, convinced I was playing another game. She dialed my number: “Ethan, you better get your ass back here right now. Liam wants to see you.” Beside me, my mother heard my name. Blood tears streamed from her blind eyes: “Are you a friend of Ethan’s? My son has been dead for three years.” 1 “Where is Ethan Vance? Tell him to get out here! Now!” “If he hadn’t agreed to the surgery back then, do you think I’d ever set foot in this godforsaken trailer park?” Serena Thorne, fresh from a board meeting in the city, kicked open the rusted door of my childhood home. My mother, who was carefully wiping dust off a framed photo, turned around. Because we couldn’t afford treatment back then, her eyes had healed into two terrifying, hollow pits. She reached out, her hands trembling as she felt for her white cane. “Is that… is that Serena? Are you back from work?” Serena scanned the room, her gaze colder than the winter wind blowing through the cracks. “Where is he? I don’t have time for hide-and-seek.” Mom froze, her hand hovering over the cane. “You’re not Serena. Who are you? Are you Ethan’s friend? Ethan… he passed away.” Mom’s voice cracked, wet with grief. Serena let out a cruel, sharp laugh. “Did Ethan tell you to say that? Three years of silence, and now he’s playing dead?” “If he doesn’t come out, tell him not to bother showing his face to me ever again!” As you wish, Serena. I really won’t appear again… Mom gripped her cane until her knuckles turned white. “Ethan is gone. He died three years ago…” Serena looked around the room. She spotted the photo Mom had been cleaning. It was a funeral portrait—me at twenty-five, smiling, full of life. “He even photoshopped a funeral portrait to make me feel guilty? I don’t find it sad; I find it disgusting!” “Don’t touch Ethan’s picture! Give it back!” Mom stumbled forward to grab it. Because she couldn’t see, she tripped and fell hard onto the floorboards. I instinctively reached out to break her fall. But my hands passed right through her trembling body. It hit me again. I was dead. I had been dead for three years. Serena kicked Mom’s cane away. She smashed the picture frame onto the floor. My twenty-five-year-old smile shattered into a thousand pieces. “Tell him to come out. Stop wasting my time!” Mom crawled through the glass shards, frantically feeling for my photo. Her hands were cut and bleeding. My heart—or the phantom of it—was being crushed in a vice. I tried to grab her hands, to stop her, but I was nothing but air. After her bodyguards tore the small house apart and found nothing, Serena turned her rage back to my mother. 2 Her designer stiletto ground down on Mom’s hand, pressing it into the broken glass. “Where is he? Did he run off with some other woman? I knew it. He’s unfaithful trash. I never should have married him!” I didn’t cheat! I was already dead! I died three years ago because of your bias and Liam’s cruelty! When I was alive, I couldn’t stop my fate. Now that I’m dead, I could only kneel on the floor, screaming, begging Serena to lift her foot. Just as Mom cried out in pain, the door burst open. My sister, Harper, rushed in, still wearing her security guard uniform. She only had one arm left. She shoved Serena away with a force born of pure fury. “You psycho! You killed my brother, and now you want to kill our mother too?” Serena scoffed, dusting off her coat. “So that’s the script? Ethan told you to lie so he could live happily ever after with his mistress? Newsflash: The doctors said the surgery was safe.” “I sent him to the best sanitarium. I hired the best private nurses. How could he be dead?” Safe? The only one safe was Liam! Less than a month after they took my heart, my body began to fail. The facility rushed me to the ER. While I was lying on a gurney, waiting for the treatment deposit and a family signature, Serena was walking on the beach with Liam. When the doctor called time of death, Serena was draping her jacket over Liam’s shoulders, terrified he might catch a chill. Harper shielded Mom with her single arm. “Ms. Thorne, my brother is dead. If you don’t believe me, go ask the hospital that tried to save him!” Serena looked down at them like they were insects. “You think I’m stupid? The sanitarium director told me everything. Ethan checked himself out with a woman!” No! 3 It was Liam Cross. He bribed the director to frame me. It was such a clumsy lie, yet Serena swallowed it whole. Harper, who used to be so proud, fell to her knees. “Ms. Thorne, Ethan died of post-op infection three years ago. We didn’t have the money for the treatments. We watched him die. Please.” “No money? I gave your family a settlement of ten million dollars. How could you be broke?” “Ethan really will say anything to make me the villain.” “I don’t know what settlement you’re talking about! He’s dead!” Harper screamed. Serena’s eyes went cold. “Beat them. Don’t stop until Ethan comes out.” The bodyguards moved in. Harper curled into a ball, taking the kicks meant for Mom. The sound of boots hitting flesh filled the tiny trailer. Mom waved her hands helplessly, blood tears streaming down her face. “Please stop! He’s my only son! He’s gone!” Serena kicked Mom aside. I screamed, throwing myself at Serena, trying to rip out her black heart. But I was a ghost. I couldn’t touch her. I could only listen to my own desperate wails. “Stop it! Stop it! I’m already dead! Why won’t you let my family go?!” Harper coughed up blood. “Serena! If you want to hurt someone, hurt me! Leave Mom alone!” Serena looked at them with disgust. “If Ethan has the guts to run away with a mistress, he should have the guts to face the consequences. This is on him.” “Did you forget how you lost your arm? Did you forget how your mother went blind? If you don’t want a repeat performance, tell Ethan to get out here and kneel.” Three years ago, to force me into the surgery, Serena used her connections to get Harper fired from the police force. 4 Harper had just received a commendation for bravery. Her future was bright. But Serena framed her for taking bribes and protecting a felon. I knelt in the rain outside Serena’s estate for twenty-four hours before she agreed to let Harper go with just a firing. Mom, who ran a small art studio, was smeared online until she was a social pariah. Our family was buried in debt from the lawsuits. But Harper and Mom didn’t give up on me. They tried to help me run away. To escape Serena. But Liam found out. He tipped off Serena. Serena’s “fixers” chopped off Harper’s arm. Mom was blinded by a shattered mirror while trying to protect Harper. Three years ago, I signed the consent form to save them. Three years later, I still couldn’t protect them. A bodyguard ran in. “Ms. Thorne, Mr. Cross is here.” Serena stopped instantly. The cruelty vanished from her face. “Who told him to come? His immune system is weak. This place is filthy. What if he catches something?” Seeing the tenderness on her face, my soul ached. To her, Liam was porcelain. I was just the packaging. She stole my heart to fix him. She turned a living man into a corpse for him. Serena looked at my dying sister and mother. “Make them talk. Just don’t let Liam see the blood. He gets faint.” I drifted after her as she walked to the waiting limo.

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I was notorious among the Manhattan elite for being a certified nightmare. When it came to my fiancé, Declan Thatcher, I was accustomed to screaming demands and snapping orders. If I was even slightly put out, I could turn the Thatcher penthouse into a five-alarm disaster zone. Until last night. I had a dream. In the dream, I was the villainess in a novel, and because I was so high-maintenance, I finally exhausted Declan’s patience. He tossed me out. The ending was grim: my family, the Ashworths, lost everything, and I was left homeless, fighting stray dogs for a moldy piece of sourdough on the street. The fear woke me up in a cold sweat. My silk pajamas were soaking wet. Clutching my wildly beating heart and staring at the sprawling, several-thousand-square-foot master suite, I made a solemn vow. I had to change. For the sake of my couture wardrobe, my platinum Amex, and, most importantly, for avoiding sour bread. I would become the ideal partner: thoughtful, gentle, and utterly compliant. Even if it was all an act, I’d commit to the role for life. 1 Today was the perfect testing ground. Declan was flying to Europe to finalize a major corporate merger. This was usually peak hour for my dramatics. I cornered him in the walk-in closet as he was fastening his cufflinks. He was wearing a dark gray bespoke suit, his posture impeccable, his expression cool and distant. He didn’t even lift his head when I walked in, just offered a noncommittal grunt. Normally, I would have ripped his tie off and—as I’d once threatened—strangled him with it. But today, I practiced restraint. I took a deep breath and shoved my phone under his nose. The screen displayed a stunning pink diamond necklace, something only seen at a private, high-end auction. “Declan Thatcher, you are to buy this for me during your trip. No excuses.” My tone was still demanding, but my heart was hammering. This was the test. The book said a man who was still willing to spend lavishly had not yet abandoned you. Declan paused his movement. He finally looked up, his eyes devoid of any discernible emotion. “Understood.” That was it? That flimsy? I pouted in dissatisfaction, the urge to lash out a physical ache. I stepped onto my toes, leaned in close to his ear, and let out a petulant huff. “Declan, do you even love me anymore?” The cufflink snapped shut. The next second, he leaned down, his warm lips falling precisely onto the corner of my mouth for a quick peck. “Yes.” “I’ll buy it.” “Be good while I’m gone.” His voice was even, but I was entirely mollified. I released my grip on his tie, bestowed upon him a charitable kiss on the cheek, and released him to his private jet. During Declan’s week-long absence, I stayed true to my Queen of Drama professional code. I sent him dozens of voice notes daily, all about mundane nonsense. “I’m craving the limited-edition black truffle macaroons from La Belle Pâtisserie in the Village. Bring me a dozen when you land.” “My new dress looks awful, and it’s your fault for not being here to give me fashion advice.” “What time is your flight getting in, exactly?” One night, at three in the morning, I couldn’t sleep and suddenly felt an overwhelming need to see the European night sky. I video-called him immediately. It was evening for him, and he answered on the first ring. The background was an ornate conference room filled with a group of sharply dressed foreign executives. Declan raised a hand, signaled a ‘pause’ to the room, and walked with his phone over to a massive floor-to-ceiling window. “What do you want to see?” The European cityscape was muted and brilliant in the lens. The executives in the meeting room exchanged priceless, bewildered glances. I felt zero guilt, only critique. “It’s nothing special. Not nearly as good as the view from our penthouse.” Declan let out a low chuckle. “Agreed. I’ll show you the one at home.” When I hung up, my best friend Sutton’s text immediately popped up. “Stella, you are reaching peak diva status. Declan is an Ice King, the epitome of the untouchable enigma. You’re going to push him away eventually.” I looked at my dazzling reflection in the mirror, tossing my hair with supreme confidence. “Men line up for me from Manhattan to Monaco. Declan Thatcher is lucky I chose him.” Sutton sent a string of ellipses. I ignored her, but a faint flicker of unease crossed my mind. Declan’s love had always felt so restrained, so controlled. He was utterly compliant, but I always felt like something was missing. Lately, a new social climber named Wren had popped up. She constantly tried to mimic my style, bought my exact designer bags, and was constantly maneuvering to get near Declan. I didn’t pay her any mind. I’d seen a thousand of her before. Until someone sent me a photo. At a corporate gala, Wren, wearing a little white dress, had ‘accidentally’ spilled red wine on Declan’s bespoke suit. She was holding a handkerchief, practically plastered to his chest, looking utterly fragile. And Declan didn’t push her away. A hot, sharp fire shot straight to my brain. I immediately drove to Declan’s corporate tower, my heels clicking like machine-gun fire on the marble floor. Bang! I slammed my phone down on his massive executive desk. “Declan Thatcher, I demand an explanation.” He was signing a document and looked up, glancing at the photo. He didn’t even flinch. He picked up his desk phone and immediately dialed his Chief of Staff. “Pull all quarterly collaborations with the Ashworth Group. Effective immediately.” “Also, send a memo: I never want to see that woman at a corporate event again.” The action was swift, cold, and brutal. He hung up and looked at me, his gaze entirely calm. “Are you satisfied?” His ruthlessly efficient response was exactly what I needed. The fury instantly vanished, replaced by smug satisfaction. I blew him a kiss, happily spun around, and grabbed his corporate Black Card to go shopping. I thought the incident was over. But that night, I had another intensely vivid nightmare. In the dream, I was the same high-maintenance wife in a novel called The CEO’s Substitute Sweetheart, and my continuous, unreasonable demands had finally depleted all of Declan’s love and patience. Wren became his “North Star,” the ideal woman, while I faced family ruin and homelessness. During a torrential downpour, soaked and pathetic, I knelt on the pavement, begging him. Dream-Declan stood over me, shielded by a black umbrella, his eyes arctic and unforgiving. He said one thing: “Stella, I’m done with you.” That line pierced my heart, and I jolted awake, drenched in sweat, my pajamas plastered to my skin. The fear of being abandoned was so real it made me physically tremble. Clutching my racing heart, I came to a decision. I absolutely could not let the dream come true. I had to secure my fortune and, more importantly, secure my Declan. I had to change! Stella Ashworth, the certified nightmare, was dead. Long live Stella 2.0: The Stepford Wife. I was going to be a gentle, thoughtful, and kind sweetheart! To implement my new, perfect-partner persona, I began a difficult withdrawal. For three agonizing days, I refrained from sending Declan a single harassing text. My fingers were crawling with the itch, and several times, I opened the chat box, typed out a furious string of “Declan, are you dead? Why aren’t you answering?”—only to delete it, tearfully, character by character. Finally, I replaced it with something new. “Work hard, darling. Don’t forget to take care of yourself. xoxo” I added a sickeningly cute emoji. I gave myself goosebumps just looking at it. On Declan’s end, the chat bubble showed, ‘Declan Thatcher is typing…’ I stared anxiously at the screen. Ten minutes later, he finally replied. A period. “.” My inner response: “…” Hold it together, Stella! This is normal for a high-powered CEO! You cannot lose your cool! I threw the phone to the side and burrowed under the duvet, rolling and thrashing until the urge to smash the device subsided. Finally, the day Declan was due to return arrived. I specifically dug out a soft, white cotton dress from the back of my closet. I even, for the first time in our relationship, decided not to send his driver to the airport, choosing instead to wait patiently at home. At 8 PM, I heard the faint click of the lock. Declan walked in, winded and slightly disheveled, bringing a trace of the chill air with him. I immediately rushed over, beaming what I thought was a sweet, welcoming smile. “Welcome home, darling.” I crouched down, pulled out his house slippers, and carefully positioned them by his feet. Up until now, he had always been the one to fetch my slippers. Declan’s body stiffened visibly. He stared at me with the strangest expression. I stood up, eyes filled with expectation, and glanced meaningfully at the suitcase his assistant was wheeling in, mentally flashing the image of my pink diamond necklace. Declan froze. He avoided my gaze and offered an awkward explanation. “There was a hiccup at the auction. A Middle Eastern oil magnate suddenly jumped in and drove the price up too high. It was snatched.” “I’ve already instructed my team to contact the buyer. We’ll try to acquire it at a premium…” My heart sank instantly. In the past, the nearest decorative throw pillow would already be airborne and aimed at his face. But the terrifying dream flashed in my mind, that chilling phrase: “I’m done with you.” I inhaled deeply. Then again. I forced a smile that looked more like a grimace. “N-no big deal.” “It’s just a necklace, truly. If you couldn’t get it, forget it.” “I… I have plenty anyway. I didn’t really want that one anymore.” The air instantly went dead silent. I could hear every intake of breath. Declan was stunned, staring straight at me. Then, his already pale complexion turned instantly chalk-white. The next second, he violently grabbed my wrist, his grip terrifyingly strong, as if he meant to crush the bones. “Why don’t you want it anymore?” His voice was tight, carrying a tremor I had never heard before. “You always said you had to have it.” “Stella, are you looking for an excuse to leave me?” His eyes were filled with panic and a touch of deep paranoia, fixed on me. “Are you trying to draw a line between us?” “Or have you already found someone else?”

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The wrap party was in full swing. Director Harris cornered me. “How about a turn as a romantic lead in the new series—opposite Gemma?” I glanced across the room at Gemma Lennox. The woman famous for her million-dollar smile had gone utterly blank. She wouldn’t meet my eyes. I understood the signal instantly. I gave the director a level look. “No, sir. I’m done with the scene. I’m retiring, heading back home to finally get married. I don’t have the energy for another shoot.” Gemma’s expression, which had just started to ease, suddenly curdled. 1 “Oh, please, Rhys the Riff-Raff,” she scoffed, loud enough for those nearby to hear. “Who the hell would marry you? You’re the industry’s doormat. Who’d want that?” The moment she said it, all eyes finally landed on me. For the first time, I was the undisputed focus of the entire cast and crew. The associate director rushed to smooth things over, urging Gemma to drink her wine, but she acted as if she hadn’t heard him. Her expression was all mocking amusement as she stared me down. I didn’t take the bait. I kept my voice easy and addressed the director again. “The date’s the seventeenth of next month. If you happen to be free, Mr. Harris, you’re welcome to the wedding.” Seeing I wasn’t joking, the director laughed nervously. “Well, well, I’ll certainly send you a generous check, Rhys. Congratulations.” When he finished, everyone else looked at me, suspicion clearly outweighing any mockery. I was long accustomed to their disbelief, so I didn’t bother to offer an explanation. Until Drew Ashton piped up from beside Gemma. “No invitation, but already shaking the tin for cash, Rhys? Doesn’t sound like a wedding; sounds like a desperate shakedown. Don’t use such a low-rent scheme on your colleagues. How much is the poverty plea this time? A thousand bucks? Two?” Back when I was scraping for rent, before Gemma made it, I had taken any job I could find. I was doing ridiculous little promo hustles online just for the tiny payouts to pay the rent. One of the rare times I felt rich was when a successful actress, feeling generous, tipped me a grand. I told Gemma about it, completely thrilled, and she teased me for being so provincial. She promised that when she hit it big, she’d cut me a check for a hundred thousand dollars so I’d never worry again. Now she’s A-list, dating A-list. And she used that secret—that one thousand dollar number—to let Drew mock me in front of everyone. The disappointment was a cold, solid thing in my stomach. I was done being the “good guy” she liked, the one who protected her and Drew’s perfect façade. “I am short on cash, actually, but two thousand won’t cut it,” I said, looking right at Drew. “Settle the Gemma-Transfer-Fee for a million. Now.” I pulled up my payment QR code, placed my phone on the lazy Susan in the center of the table, and spun it toward Gemma and Drew. Someone who hadn’t been paying attention asked, mystified, “Why is Rhys asking Drew for a transfer fee?” 2 I had blown up the secret of my “underground” five years with Gemma. Her face immediately went dark. She lunged forward in shock, knocking over a crystal wine glass. Red wine instantly bloomed across the white tablecloth, staining the hem of her haute couture gown. The director panicked, waving the servers out and shutting the door. He watched us anxiously—me, Gemma, and Drew. Since Gemma hit it big, she and Drew had been inseparable, publicly and privately, putting on a sickeningly affectionate show for the world. Everyone assumed they were deeply in love, a years-long fairytale romance. No one had ever suspected that I, Rhys Everett—a washed-up character actor with a notoriously bad reputation—was the man who’d been with her through her long years of struggle. The awkward silence lasted ten minutes, until the associate director cleared his throat. That’s what finally made Gemma move. The woman known as the industry’s sweetheart looked at me now with pure, unadulterated revulsion. Her voice was sharp. “I’m worth eighty thousand an hour,” she spat, her tone acidic. “I never billed you for the years I spent slumming it down there. And now you want my man to pay a transfer fee? You are so greedy, Rhys.” Drew, who minutes ago was mocking me, now played the benevolent one. “Look, Rhys, she was under a ton of pressure. It’s normal for her to… experiment a little to blow off steam. She didn’t mean anything by it. Why take it seriously? Fine, fine. You want a million? I’ll wire it to you now.” He went to take out his phone, but Gemma blocked him. Her face frozen in an icy mask, she pulled out her own private phone and wired the million to my account. Her gesture was dramatic and sweeping, nothing like the college girl who couldn’t spare a dollar-fifty for a caramel apple we were walking past. Suddenly, a million didn’t feel like enough. I collected the money and looked at her. “The transfer fee is settled. But what about the five years I spent living in that cramped walk-up with you? I think you need to settle that account, too.” Gemma stared at me for three full seconds, then switched phones and coldly said she would transfer the money. Less than a minute later, the bank notification hit my account. Five million dollars. Seven digits and a five, a blinding number. But her words cut deeper: “Consider this five million your advance for the coffin. Now go die somewhere I don’t have to look at you.” Gemma cursed me. Drew laughed, but then put on a show of chastising her to sound like the better man. She ignored him and addressed everyone else. “The seventeenth of next month,” she announced, a cold smile settling on her face. “Drew and I are celebrating our anniversary. Everyone should come help us celebrate!” The crew members, afraid to cross her, nervously agreed. I just took a deep breath, finished with the performance, and stood up to leave. But just as my hand found the doorknob, Gemma grabbed my arm. Her eyes were malicious. “Since you’re retiring, you can post your official statement before you walk out that door.” 3 Gemma’s team drafted my retirement statement. It was humiliating, painting me as unstable and difficult. As soon as it went live, she hit the like button. When they moved to another venue, Sarah, Gemma’s assistant, secretly rushed out to see me off. “Rhys, I know this looks bad,” Sarah whispered, her eyes full of pity. “But she really loves you. She and Drew are just a fling. You shouldn’t have embarrassed her like that in public.” I didn’t explain. I just looked at the six million dollars in my account and told Sarah to help me terminate the lease on my apartment. Sarah paused, then sighed. “Maybe that’s for the best. You can move into her place tomorrow. Cook her favorite meals; that might be enough to win her back.” Sarah gave me a dozen bits of advice, none of which I registered. I took a cab back to the apartment. Gemma had chosen this place for me. It was sparse, twenty miles from her villa. Aside from my ID and university diploma, everything in it was promotional junk she’d gotten from sponsors. I hated it. I didn’t want to take a single thing with me. As I closed the door for the last time, my phone buzzed. It was Gemma’s social media update. The photo showed her and Drew, fingers laced, cheeks pressed together in a sickening display of affection. When fans asked if they were officially a couple, she answered them definitively: “Like, obvi! I’m Drew Ashton’s woman!” That one line, that was the one that made my eyes burn. I couldn’t stop the memory of our days in the walk-up. The year I started getting a little traction, the company suggested Gemma and I pretend to be a couple for a reality show to boost her profile. I brought it up with her. She’d wrapped her arms around my neck, whispering, “Rhys, you know I hate the high-profile stuff. Let’s just keep our little life a secret, work hard, and make it together, okay?” I believed her. I agreed to keep things quiet. But I realized now that she didn’t hate “high-profile.” She just hated “high-profile with me.” 4 After spending one night in a cheap motel, I booked a flight. My hometown, Blackwood Creek, is buried deep in the Cascade mountains. Even after the plane landed, it was a ten-hour drive, winding through switchbacks and deep valleys just to reach the boundary of our community. When I left at sixteen, those ten hours felt fleeting. Now, returning alone, it felt like I was driving through an entire lifetime. 5 There were no relatives left in Blackwood Creek for me. The old house my grandmother left me was practically a ruin; it took two full days of cleaning just to make it habitable. When word got around that I was back to get married, the villagers were mystified. The older men, the elders who knew me, cornered me when they’d had too much to drink, scolding me. They said I had flown out to be a phoenix, a success, so why was I back to suffer? I smiled, a little bitterly, and didn’t tell them the little phoenix they sent out had been deeply unhappy out there, and that I was back because I was running out of time. They lectured me for three days. When they realized I wasn’t going to return to the city, the village council finally gave up. “Well, alright. Willow’s a good woman. She’ll take care of you.” 6 The “Willow” they spoke of was the woman I’d chosen to marry. Her name is Willow Finch. She came to Blackwood Creek three years ago as a volunteer teacher and has practically run the one-room schoolhouse ever since. The villagers adored her and everyone wanted their sons to marry her. But she didn’t choose any of the local men. Instead, she was the one who messaged me first on a local classified ad I’d posted as a half-serious, half-joke marriage proposition. To be fair, I had asked Gemma about marriage first. She’d snapped, “My body is yours, Rhys, what more of a commitment do you need? Don’t be so damn greedy!” After that, I never mentioned marriage to her again. I quietly added Willow Finch on my private chat app. When she agreed to the terms—to take responsibility for my remains—we set the date. 7 On the seventh day after my return, Willow and I went into the county seat. We hired the best construction crew and signed the contracts to build a proper schoolhouse. I paid the thirty percent deposit using the money Gemma had sent. As we were leaving the contractor’s office, we passed a cafe. I saw a sign: Seven-Layer Carmel Latte, Buy One Get One Half Off. The memory hit me, freezing me in my tracks. Right after paying the rent for the walk-up, we were often left with only enough cash for one cheap coffee. Gemma, being “generous,” would tell me to go buy it, and we’d sit on the curb outside the studio, laughing and sharing the single cup. In the sunset, she’d ask if it was sweet, and I’d nod, asking her if she liked it. “Of course, I do!” she’d said. “When I make it big, I’m going to drink one every single day! You better remember to buy it for me!” I took her casual comment as a promise. Even after she became a star, I kept up the habit, ordering a specific, cheap coffee and having it delivered to her set. At first, she’d accept it and smile. I thought she hadn’t forgotten our past. Then, one day, I returned to her dressing room to retrieve my forgotten phone. I saw her at the trash can. She wasn’t just dumping my latte; she was complaining to Drew: “Even a gourmet coffee gets old if you drink it every day. Besides, Rhys brings me that cheap, eight-dollar-a-cup junk. Doesn’t he know we’re in different leagues now?” From that day on, I stopped buying her things beneath her “league,” and I quit drinking my favorite cheap coffee, too. I must have been lost in that thought, because I didn’t notice Willow had moved. “Rhys, look…” Willow carefully carried two cups. “Your favorite, the half-sweet Seven-Layer Carmel. Buy-one-get-one, so I got you one. Try it.” A woman I had known for only two months could casually state my preference. The woman I loved for five years didn’t even know it. I was so touched I didn’t refuse. Halfway through the drink, I suddenly remembered something. “Wait, Willow. You can’t have high-sugar drinks like this, can you?” Willow shrugged, a soft, easy smile on her face. “But I wanted to share it with you, Rhys. That way you wouldn’t be alone.” She must have caught the surprise on my face because she quickly explained. She even blushed, saying it was part of the “contract spirit”—she’d promised to be there for me. Looking at her nervousness, I was reminded of Gemma, who had promised me a home while we were in that cramped walk-up, swearing she’d never let me be alone again. I believed her every time. And what was the result? The moment she got famous, she forgot the promises, brazenly flirting with more famous men, leaving me alone in my eighty-square-foot apartment, watching the sun rise and set by myself. 8 After we finished half the coffee, Willow said she needed to go to the wholesale warehouse to buy powdered cocoa mix. I asked her why. She explained sheepishly that she had wanted to buy a latte for all the children at the school, but they couldn’t afford a full order. So, she was buying the mix to make a weaker version for everyone to share, so each student could have a little taste. “I want the kids in the mountains to have more experiences,” she said. “That way, when they leave, they won’t be easily moved by cheap gestures or easily hurt by people.” She wasn’t talking about me. But I thought about my own childhood. I never had a teacher who bought me a treat. So, when I left the mountains, I thought a cheap cup of coffee was the pinnacle of luxury. It was enough for me to be moved by Gemma, and enough to give her my entire heart. “Don’t buy the cocoa mix,” I said. “We’ll just buy out the cafe. We’ll treat everyone.” I took out the rest of Gemma’s money and paid the cafe to drive their truck up the mountain and serve fresh lattes to the entire village. 9 Willow told the village broadcaster about the treat, and she had her students gather wildflowers. While the children waited for their drinks, she taught them how to weave massive floral crowns and had them line up to place one on my head. “Rhys, look,” she said. “The little suns of the future, they all love you.” For Gemma’s sake, I had always played the bad guy in the industry. The result was that the crew hated me, and the internet loathed me. When I complained to Gemma about the hate, she would just shrug it off. “Someone has to be the bad guy, Rhys. Besides, why do you need anyone else to like you? Isn’t my love enough?” She said that, but she never understood that I desperately needed the world to like me, too. I needed a lot of warmth and sunlight. Willow must have seen the emotion in my eyes. She broke my silence by gently pushing me toward the children. “Come on, everyone! Put the crown on your new teacher’s husband!” The children laughed. I let go of my dark memories, half-crouching to let them adorn me. It was strange. The flowers were the same ones I’d seen my entire life, but I never noticed their fragrance. Today, my crown smelled better than any designer cologne. I looked at Willow. The sun framed her slightly pale face in a golden halo. I knew, with absolute certainty, that marrying her was the best decision I had ever made. 10 In the following days, Willow and I supervised the construction crew building the new schoolhouse and finalized our wedding arrangements. In the mountains, you don’t need the complexity of a city wedding, but a proper feast is non-negotiable. I planned to use the rest of Gemma’s money to cater the meal, but Willow stopped me. She took out three years of her savings and gave them to the village elder, instructing him to prepare long tables for a feast that would invite everyone in the community. The elder praised her commitment, and the neighborhood women constantly told me how perfect she was for me. But whenever anyone complimented her, she always corrected them. “Rhys is the truly good one,” she’d insist. “Better than I could ever be.” She was always praising me instinctively. Gemma never did that. The contrast made me realize how little I had valued myself before. The wedding was on the seventeenth. It was loud and joyful. The feast lasted from noon to evening. While Willow was busy hosting the elders, I sat beneath a large pine and pulled out my phone. I hadn’t logged into my social media since returning to Blackwood Creek. I thought no one would remember me. But my messages were over ninety-nine. Almost all were from Sarah, the assistant, still urging me to apologize to Gemma. I didn’t want to reply, and was about to turn the phone off when Gemma called. It was loud on her end, a cacophony of music and voices, but her voice cut through the noise. “Rhys, are you still not done with your stunt?”

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My diver husband sent a distress signal from deep underwater, but as the equipment manager, I just pulled the blanket over my head and went back to sleep. In my past life, he broke protocol and took his “first love” diving late at night, just to see the “starry sky” of the ocean floor. The moment their equipment malfunctioned, I dove in to save them without hesitation. Who knew he would let her lock me in a shark cage at the bottom of the ocean? When I finally managed to surface, gasping for air, he was waiting with a squad of police officers, accusing me of sabotage. “I knew you were up to no good sneaking out here in the middle of the night, intentionally damaging the gear! Thank god we caught it in time!” Facing the media cameras, his “first love,” Bella, cried until her eyes were red. “Is my sister really willing to tamper with the oxygen tanks just because she’s jealous of my relationship with Mark?” I saved him and his beloved Bella, yet they framed me, unleashed an internet mob against me, and I ended up taking my own life in prison. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day they planned their secret dive. Mark’s familiar voice rang in my ear. “Babe, you worked so hard staying up late. Once this busy period is over, I’m taking you to Bali.” The memories of my past life flashed before my eyes, and my body involuntarily shuddered. Seeing that I didn’t respond, Mark asked with concern over the phone: “What’s wrong? If you’re sleepy, just take a nap. No one comes into the base at this hour anyway.” I sneered, watching two sneaky figures in the distance. In my last life, I thought he truly cared about me. Instead, he pinned a charge of negligence on me. But it was midnight right now. In my past life, the media arrived the moment the incident happened. How could they have predicted an accident? Unless… Mark had planned it all along? Thinking of what was about to happen, I tried to calm myself and said: “Alright, honey. You get some rest early too.” Hanging up, I put in earplugs, pulled on an eye mask, and buried myself under the covers in the break room. In my past life, my husband took advantage of the empty base tonight to sneak Bella underwater to see the bioluminescent plankton—the “starry sky.” Night diving is extremely risky, and with no lifeguards on duty, it’s strictly forbidden. But just because Bella said she “wanted to see the stars under the sea,” Mark was willing to risk his life to make her wish come true. Not long after they went under, their gear malfunctioned. I dove in to save them without a second thought. Yet, after they were safe, they locked me in the shark observation cage at the bottom. No matter how I begged, they swam toward the surface without looking back. The oxygen in my tank wasn’t enough to last until dawn. In my panic, I found the spare key to the cage hidden in my wetsuit pocket—a stroke of pure luck that let me escape death. Once I surfaced, I rushed to the changing room, planning to confront Mark. But as soon as I changed, he surrounded me with police officers. He glared at me with hatred, as if I weren’t his wife but his mortal enemy. “Luna, how could you be so cruel? I’m your husband! You tampered with the diving equipment trying to kill me and Bella!” “How did I end up marrying a venomous woman like you?” Shocked and angry at his baseless accusations, I desperately denied everything to the police. But then, he produced a security video showing me cutting the oxygen tube on a diving suit. Experts verified the video wasn’t edited; it was real. Bella appeared with a swarm of reporters right on cue. She held up medical reports of injuries and a video of me slapping her, crying her heart out on a live stream, accusing me. She claimed that because I was jealous of her growing up with Mark, I used my position to bully her. She said I often beat her when no one was around. Blinded by rage, I charged at Bella, screaming: “Bella, what nonsense are you spouting? You framed me repeatedly, provoked me on purpose! I only slapped you because I couldn’t take it anymore!” “You need to tell the truth right now, or I won’t let you off!” Bella screamed in feigned terror, acting like a traumatized victim. That sealed it. Everyone believed she was the innocent victim. And I became the petty, malicious abuser. Just like that, I became a pariah. Convicted of attempted murder and assault, I was sentenced to fifteen years. Later, the story somehow reached the prison, and I became the target of beatings and abuse from other inmates. The inhumane life slowly drained my will to appeal. I gradually realized that everything I suffered was a trap set by Mark and Bella long ago. In the end, consumed by despair, I took my own life. Just like in my past life, Mark and Bella ran into trouble less than ten minutes after diving. Chapter 1 The piercing alarm woke up the others at the base. I chose not to dive in to save them, but Mark and Bella were rescued anyway. Compared to my past life, however, they suffered much more this time. When I followed the crowd to the shore, they were collapsed on the sand, gasping for air. Bella’s face was pale as a sheet, her eyes red from nearly drowning. Mark, seeing me standing in the crowd watching the show, immediately stormed over from the beach, pointing a finger in my face and roaring: “Luna, weren’t you on duty tonight? Why didn’t you come to save us immediately?” I glanced at him indifferently and gave a half-hearted explanation: “Sorry, I put in earplugs before sleeping, so I didn’t hear the alarm.” He ignored my explanation, grabbing my wrist and throwing me heavily to the ground. “I think you did it on purpose! Don’t think I don’t know, you planned all of this tonight!” Then, he turned to the others at the base, pointing at me viciously: “As the equipment manager, she intentionally damaged our diving gear, which is why we had an accident ten minutes after going under!” “And she deliberately refused to help, wanting Bella and me to drown!” Everyone looked shocked. Some colleagues who were usually on good terms with me spoke up: “Mark, Luna isn’t that kind of person. There must be a misunderstanding.” “Yeah, Mark, you and Luna have always had a good relationship. She has no reason to do this!” Of course, there were doubts too: “Mark is our base’s most experienced diver. If it wasn’t an equipment issue, how could he suddenly have an accident?” “Exactly, Mark has ten years of diving experience and zero errors on his record.” Whispers spread through the crowd. My gaze remained fixed on Mark’s face. I didn’t miss the calculation and triumph hidden beneath his anger. “Setting aside the fact that deliberately damaging diving equipment is a serious crime that would land me in prison,” I said calmly. “You are my husband. I would only want you safe. What benefit do I get if you die? I didn’t buy any life insurance for you!” As I finished speaking, more people started to side with me. Mark’s face darkened, his eyes full of malice. At this moment, Bella, having recovered from her near-death fear, was helped into the center of the crowd. She looked at me hesitantly before speaking: “Luna, we’ve known each other for so many years, and I considered us friends. I shouldn’t be saying this in front of everyone.” “But I never expected you’d try to kill us? Mark is your husband!” “He treats you so well. How could you be so cruel just because you’re jealous of our friendship?” “I will definitely press charges against you!” Mark immediately stood by her side to show his loyalty: “Luna was on duty tonight but neglected her post, almost causing a fatality. I don’t see how she can stay in this industry!” With that, he took out his phone to call the police. “911? I want to report an attempted murder!” Chapter 2 Seeing Mark call the police, the crowd stirred again. “This isn’t the first time Luna has done something like this. This toxic woman should be locked up!” Bella glanced at me, feigning distress but not holding back her words: “Mark and I have been neighbors forever, so we grew up close. His parents are like my godparents.” “You all know Luna has a strong personality, so my godparents don’t like her; they prefer me.” “Because of this, Luna often picks on me. I’ve explained many times that I only see Mark as a brother, but she won’t believe me. Sometimes she even hits me.” “I endured it because I didn’t want to make things hard for Mark, but I didn’t expect Luna to go this far.” Hearing this, the colleagues who had stood by me stepped back. Their eyes filled with the same disdain and anger as in my past life. It felt like history repeating itself. “Luna looks so nice usually. I didn’t know she was like this behind closed doors.” “I never liked her. She’s just arrogant because her family has money! Let’s see how she gets out of this.” “Sigh! You really can’t judge a book by its cover.” Seeing everyone believe them so quickly, Mark and Bella exchanged a secret glance of triumph. I clenched my fists until my nails dug into my palms. The pain kept me lucid, preventing me from drowning in the trauma of the past. Calming myself, I stared straight at the smug pair. “Every dive at the base requires registration and approval. There’s a clear rule: no night diving without special circumstances, and even then, at least two divers must accompany you.” “Mark, why isn’t your name in the logbook?” The crowd, previously busy blaming me, suddenly realized the truth. Mark had violated regulations by diving at night, which nearly caused a major accident. Even if the police came, he wouldn’t look good for breaking the rules. The smug look on Mark’s face twisted for a second. But soon, he smiled faintly. “Bella is the daughter of a shareholder. If she wants to dive, she naturally got approval directly from the owner.” “Stop changing the subject. If I hadn’t reacted quickly today, two people would be dead!” Suddenly, someone shouted: “The police are here!” Following them was a swarm of media and the base owner. Chapter 3 Several uniformed officers and a large group of reporters with microphones and cameras appeared at the base entrance simultaneously. Even though I was mentally prepared, the trauma of the past life’s cyberbullying was deep. Seeing the cameras, my body instinctively trembled. Bella saw this, and her smugness grew. While no one was looking, she whispered in my ear: “Luna, if I were you, I’d confess. Maybe they’ll go easy on you.” I sneered. Did they really think a few videos were enough to convict me? Seeing my silence, Mark pushed me toward the police, acting righteous: “Officers, this woman attempted murder! Arrest her immediately!” Dozens of cameras pointed at my face, but I was calm. “What proof do you have that I damaged the suits? Did you see me do it?” As if expecting this, Mark confidently pulled out his phone and played a surveillance video. In the video, I was holding a small knife, vigorously cutting the oxygen tube of a diving suit. When the video played, the crowd’s shock turned to disgust and anger. Mark, seeing their reaction, couldn’t hide his glee: “Luna, we’re married. I didn’t want it to come to this, but you’ve gone too far!” “If I don’t teach you a lesson now, next time you might actually kill me!” Mark marched up to the owner, pointing at me accusingly. “This woman abused her power for a personal vendetta, publicly damaging equipment and nearly causing a disaster. As an employee, I am ashamed of her!” Mark spoke with confidence in front of the police, completely missing the owner’s darkening face. Especially the young woman behind the owner, who was glaring at him. I smiled, not rushing to stop Mark’s tirade. He didn’t know that this morning, the owner had asked me to mentor his daughter, Chloe, who was interning at the base. The first task I gave her was to organize and inspect the diving gear. So, the only person in the equipment room during the day was the owner’s daughter, Chloe. Mark thought the owner looked mad because of me. He looked at me triumphantly. “Luna, the evidence is here. What else do you have to say?” I chuckled, clapping slowly as I stepped forward. “Officer, I want to report Mark for fabricating evidence and framing me. I have a witness!” Chapter 4 My words were loud and clear, shocking everyone again. Reporters, sensing a scoop, turned their cameras to me. Mark looked surprised, his face alternating between green and white, chest heaving. “Luna, I’ve shown irrefutable evidence, and you still dare claim you’re framed?” “What? Are you saying the person in the video isn’t you, but an imposter?” “Or are you questioning the authenticity of my video! And a witness? Who? Yourself?” “Officer, since she refuses to confess, I’m willing to hand over this video for forensic analysis. I just want justice!” Mark sounded so sure. As the officer took the phone, he patted Mark’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. We won’t wrong a good person, nor let a bad one go.” But the next second, the base owner rushed out and punched Mark in the face. “I am the witness!” “Luna didn’t damage the suits. You ungrateful brat, how dare you spread lies here!” In my past life, the suddenness of the event and the betrayal by my beloved husband left me unable to defend myself calmly. That’s why I was passive. Since my rebirth, I’ve been analyzing every detail, looking for flaws in Mark and Bella’s story. Mark was stunned, holding his face, unable to speak. He had no idea what was happening. But I wasn’t kind enough to explain. Seeing the owner’s face darken further, Mark finally squeezed out: “Boss, don’t be fooled by this woman. She’s a murderer!” I sneered. “Who’s the vicious one here?” “For your own selfish gain, you came up with such a sinister plan to frame me!” “Enough! Stop arguing!” The police shouted. “The truth isn’t determined by your shouting.” “We will investigate thoroughly. If you have more evidence, submit it. Otherwise, shut up!” Mark shut his mouth unwillingly, his face still ugly. Everyone involved was taken to the station, with reporters following the police cars. On the way, I looked at Mark’s angry face, recalling our five years of marriage. Before Bella returned from abroad, we were happy. We commuted together, cooked together. We dreamed of the future, planning to travel the world after retirement. But once Bella appeared, his heart left our home. He started staying out late. Whenever Bella and I had a conflict, he blindly sided with her. I thought if I treated him well, he would wake up and return to me. Instead, they sent me to hell. Mark glared at me viciously, then walked over to Bella. Bella must have told him what I whispered to her. Mark looked even gloomier. He glanced at me several times, each look sending chills down my spine. I don’t know how he comforted Bella. Minutes later, Bella stepped forward, shouting to the police and reporters: “Officer, I want to sue Luna for assault.”

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I watched my husband’s awards ceremony from the kitchen, the thud of my cleaver against pork ribs keeping a grim rhythm. The host asked him who he was most grateful for at this moment. He adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, his voice smooth and cultured. “I want to thank my late wife, Evelyn. It was she who taught me the true soul of literature.” My hand faltered, the cleaver nearly slicing my finger. Bloody water from the ribs splattered onto my apron, like a rotted crimson flower. Eight years. I am the legal wife on his marriage certificate, the full-time caregiver for his paralyzed mother. But in his acceptance speech, I was nothing but air. 1 At seven that evening, Aidan Croft returned home with his star student and a few colleagues. The heat was cranked up high. They shed their heavy coats, revealing exquisite suits and evening dresses underneath. Aidan’s mother was having a good day. She sat in her wheelchair as he pushed her to the center of the living room to receive greetings from his students. “Your mother looks wonderful, Professor. You take such meticulous care of her.” “It’s true. With his wife having passed so early, it can’t be easy for the professor to manage his academic work and care for his elderly mother all alone.” Everyone was sighing over Aidan’s deep love and his difficult life. I emerged from the kitchen carrying a tureen of duck soup that had been simmering for three hours. The rich, savory steam filled the room. A young female student turned to me and smiled sweetly. “Ma’am, could you please bring two more sets of bowls and spoons? And a small dish for vinegar.” The living room fell silent for two seconds. No one corrected her. Aidan was pouring tea for that same student. Without even lifting his eyes, he said, “Go get them. And be quick about it.” In that instant, I felt like a half-evolved ape that had stumbled into a party of civilized human beings. I looked down at my own faded house clothes, at the plastic slippers stained with grease. I did look like the help. Worse than the help, actually. At least they earned an hourly wage. I only got a fixed five thousand a month for “household expenses.” I turned back to the kitchen, a sour bitterness rising in my throat like bile. When I returned with the bowls, Aidan was standing at the entrance to his study, lighting incense before a portrait of Evelyn. In the photo, Evelyn wore a black evening gown, seated at a piano, as elegant as a swan. I walked over to place the offering dishes. As I did, Aidan turned and bumped into me. Crash. A bowl of scalding hot duck soup tipped over, right on the edge of the memorial table. I knew how precious this space was to him. I instinctively threw my hand out to block the spill. The soup splashed everywhere, but a few drops still hit the bottom edge of the photo frame. “What are you doing?!” Aidan recoiled like a cat whose tail had been stepped on and shoved me, hard. I stumbled back, hitting the doorframe. The back of my hand was already turning a fiery red from the burn. But Aidan didn’t even glance at me. He frantically pulled out a handkerchief and began wiping the photo frame with painstaking care, his movements as gentle as if he were caressing a lover’s face. “You clumsy oaf! Can’t you do anything right?” He glared back at me, his eyes fierce enough to eat me alive. “On a day as important as this, you just had to ruin it, didn’t you?” At that moment, the searing pain on my hand was nothing compared to the ice forming in my heart. The students exchanged uneasy glances. The one who had called me “ma’am” whispered, “The professor’s love for his late wife is so deep. He can’t even bear to see her photo damaged.” “Yes, it’s a love that transcends death.” And just like that, they were all praising this earth-shattering romance again. I clutched my swelling hand and retreated into the shadows of the corner. I watched the man I had served for eight years lavish his affection on a photograph of a dead woman. I watched these highly educated elites ignore the living, breathing person right in front of them. Suddenly, I felt like my entire eight years with him had been a joke. I was the Croft family’s maid, Aidan’s mother’s caregiver, everything but Aidan’s wife. The string I had kept taut for eight years finally, in that one single moment, snapped. I was done serving them. 2 I skipped dinner and went straight to my bedroom. It was less a bedroom and more a guest room converted from a storage closet. The master bedroom was where Aidan slept alone. Or rather, where he slept with the “memories” of Evelyn. He only ever graced my room when he had… needs. When he required me to fulfill my wifely duties. I looked at myself in the mirror. My face was sallow, fine lines webbing the corners of my eyes. My hair was as dry and brittle as straw. I didn’t look thirty-five. I could have passed for fifty. The girl who was once the prettiest in her town had withered into a weed. I remembered when I first came to the Croft house. The filth, the foul smells, and the handsome, helpless Aidan. His mother, paralyzed and bitter, had been abusive to every caregiver, driving them all away within three days. Then I came. And I stayed. I stayed because of the look of utter helplessness and pleading on his face when I first tried to quit. I stayed because of the undisguised joy in his eyes when I agreed to remain. Later, my family called, telling me to come home for an arranged marriage. I tried to resign again. Aidan had said to me, “A blind marriage is an irresponsible way to live. You know this family, and you know me. I’ll marry you.” Thinking of the deep love in his eyes when he looked at his late wife’s photo, some devil in me made me agree. Because I wanted him to look at me like that, too. I thought, if I waited long enough, he would. The house gradually quieted down as the guests left. Aidan pushed my door open. He was holding a plastic bag. “For you.” He tossed it onto the bed. It was a pair of knee braces. Wool. They looked thick and warm. My heart skipped. Was it because he saw my burned hand and felt guilty? Or was it because today was our wedding anniversary? He’d never remembered it before, but maybe subconsciously he wanted to be kind to me? For a fleeting second, a flicker of that stupid, womanly fantasy flared up. I reached for the knee braces, about to say something soft. Aidan loosened his tie, his tone cool. “Mom’s arthritis acts up this time of year. These are good quality. Make sure she wears them tonight.” “And try to be quicker when she calls you at night. Don’t let her wet the bed. The smell lingers in the house.” My outstretched hand froze in mid-air. I felt like a clown who’d just been slapped in front of a crowd. They weren’t for me. They were a tool for his mother. And I was just the person who operated the tool. “Also,” Aidan said, not even looking at me as he turned to leave, “you spilled that soup. Mop the floor again in the morning. Make sure there’s no smell. And don’t you ever touch Evelyn’s memorial table again.” I tried to smile, but my face twisted into something uglier than a sob. “Aidan.” I called his name. He stopped, turning back with a questioning look. “What is it?” “I want a divorce.” Four words. I said them quietly, but clearly. Aidan stared at me for a moment, then let out a short, dismissive laugh. He looked at me like I was a child throwing a tantrum. He pulled out his wallet and took out a thick wad of cash. Maybe two or three thousand dollars. He slapped it onto the nightstand. “Upset that the students mistook you for the help? Fine. Take this, buy some decent clothes. I’m tired. Don’t make trouble.” He walked out without a backward glance. I followed him. He didn’t go to the master bedroom. He went to the study. The door was slightly ajar. I never went in there alone. Even cleaning it required his permission. Through the crack, I saw Aidan sitting at the Steinway piano. It had been Evelyn’s favorite, I’d heard. His long fingers gently caressed the keys, his eyes so tender they could have dripped water, as if he were stroking his lover’s skin. It was a look I had never, not for a single second in eight years, received. He murmured to the empty air, “Evelyn, I won the award today. If only you were here…” I pushed the door open. Aidan’s head snapped around, the tenderness in his eyes instantly turning to shards of ice. “Who let you in here? Get out!” I looked at the gleaming black piano, then at the man who was supposedly my husband. “I’m serious. I want a divorce.” This time, Aidan didn’t even bother to turn his head. He pressed a key, a single, clear note ringing out. “Linda, I just transferred you this month’s household money yesterday. If you want more, just say so. Don’t resort to these cheap tactics.” In his eyes, every emotion I had could be converted into a dollar amount. I looked at his face, still so handsome and refined. A wave of nausea washed over me. It was more sickening than looking at a bedsheet soaked in piss and shit. “I am serious. We are getting divorced tomorrow.” I turned and closed the door, shutting the man who was drowning in memories of his dead wife inside his own tomb. 3 Two in the morning. A muffled thud came from his mother’s room. I shot up from my bed on pure instinct and rushed next door. I called for Aidan. His room was empty. He had probably gone to the cemetery in the middle of the night to visit his beloved late wife again. His mother was having a seizure. Her body convulsed like a fish out of water, white foam frothing at her lips, her eyes rolling back in her head. Turn her on her side, clear her airway, prevent her from biting her tongue, apply pressure to the philtrum. I had performed this routine for eight years. It was as familiar as breathing. Once she had calmed a little, I hoisted the 130-pound woman onto my back. I only weigh ninety pounds. But I carried her down three flights of stairs, step by agonizing step, my calves trembling. I called a cab and went straight to the hospital. I tried calling Aidan on the way. No answer. I had to send him a text. At the emergency room, I registered her, found a doctor, and wheeled her to get a CT scan. I was in my pajamas and slippers, my hair a mess, my clothes still stained with vomit. This was my life. “Where’s the family? Someone needs to go pay.” The doctor glanced at my attire, hesitating. “You’re… the caregiver, right? Can you contact a direct relative?” “I’m her…” “I’m her son!” The sound of hurried footsteps came from behind me. Aidan had finally arrived. He was in a crisp suit, his hair perfectly coiffed. I could even smell his cologne. It was called “Encounter,” supposedly Evelyn’s favorite. He, so refined and elegant, and I, so disheveled and pathetic, looked like we belonged to two different species. The doctor’s face immediately broke into a smile. “Ah, Professor Croft! You’re such a devoted son, rushing over in the middle of the night.” Aidan smiled modestly, a perfect picture of a cultured, scholarly gentleman. After the doctor left, he finally turned and saw me. The smile vanished, replaced by his usual look of reproach. “What happened? Why did she suddenly have an episode? Did you feed her the wrong thing for dinner? What kind of care are you providing?” His voice wasn’t loud, but it was clear enough for everyone nearby to hear. That was his logic. If she was sick, it was my fault. If she was well, it was his devotion. I didn’t say a word. I just silently lifted his mother from the gurney to the hospital bed, adjusted her pillow, and pulled the covers over her. Aidan just stood there and watched. Since the day I’d moved in, he hadn’t done a single household chore. He hadn’t even poured his own mother a glass of water. Because, as he said, that was my job. The woman in the next bed couldn’t help but chime in. “Wow, this lady is amazing, so quick and capable. You must be the family’s caregiver, right? So professional. I wish I could find someone like you.” My hand, which was wiping his mother’s mouth, froze. Aidan paused. I just looked at him. Waiting. Hoping he would say, “This is my wife,” or at least just brush off the comment. But after three seconds of silence, Aidan nodded and said flatly, “Yes. She’s very professional.” Boom. The last thread of sanity in my mind snapped completely. Those three seconds of silence were a million times more cruel than his insults. They murdered the last shred of unrealistic hope I had for him. They murdered all eight years of my devotion. I threw the towel I was holding at him. “As of right now, I officially quit. You can take care of her yourself!” I turned and walked away. Aidan hissed at my back, “Linda! Have you lost your mind? This is a hospital!” I didn’t look back. I just walked faster. It wasn’t until I stepped out of the hospital doors and the cold wind hit my face that I realized it was covered in tears. But my heart felt lighter than it had in years. 4 Back at that so-called “home,” I started packing. I didn’t have much. A few changes of clothes, and almost nothing else that was truly mine. In his study, at the very bottom of a drawer, I found our “marriage agreement.” It wasn’t a marriage certificate. It was a lifetime indenture contract. It clearly stated: Party B (me) is responsible for all living needs of Party A’s mother. Party A (Aidan) will pay Party B a monthly living expense. During the marriage, Party B shall not interfere with Party A’s private space… I tore it to shreds. Next to it was a ledger. His expense journal for the past eight years. He was meticulous about bookkeeping; every expense was clearly recorded. I’d never paid it much attention before, but now, flipping through it was like being stabbed with every word. April 2018, maintenance for Evelyn’s gravesite. Note: Beloved Wife Fund, $5,000. June 2018, dental work for Linda. Note: Labor Maintenance Fee, $800. … So that’s what I was in his eyes. No different from the washing machine that needed repairs. Looking at entry after entry, I felt the blood in my veins run cold. My stomach churned, and I ran to the bathroom and dry-heaved for what felt like an eternity. I took off the winter coat he had given me and threw it on the floor, stomping on it. It had a small “E” embroidered on the label. E for Evelyn. I left behind everything he had labeled as “Labor Supplies” in his ledger. Including the plain gold ring that weighed barely two grams. He’d bought it for our wedding, saying he didn’t like extravagance, that simple was better. It turned out he didn’t dislike extravagance. He just disliked spending money on me. When I was done packing, all I had was a single, worn-out duffel bag. This was my eight years. The lock turned. Aidan was back. He frowned at the mess in the house, his eyes filled with displeasure. “Linda, have you made enough of a scene? Mom is still in the hospital. What are you doing back here? Clean this up and get back to the hospital!” I was still dressed in my cheap clothes, but for the first time, I stood up straight. I placed the now-bent gold ring on the coffee table with a soft clink. And then I smiled. It was the first time in eight years I had smiled so freely, so recklessly, in this house. “Professor Croft, your free maid, Linda, has officially resigned.” “Oh, and I threw that coat in the trash. Dead people’s things are bad luck. They give me the creeps.” Aidan’s face changed color, as if he’d been brutally slapped. “What did you say?” “I said, I’ll see you at City Hall at eight tomorrow morning. Also, since I’m a professional caregiver, you can wire me my eight years of back pay. Don’t even think about stiffing me. I’d hate to lose all respect for you.” With that, I ignored him, picked up my duffel bag, and strode across the still-damp soup stain on the floor.

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At a party, my fiancée Ava’s ex lost a stupid game. His penalty: pick someone of the opposite sex to act out their “wedding night.” Everyone watched as he walked straight to Ava. “Ava,” he said with fake sincerity, “I heard you’re getting engaged. Let me have one last perfect memory with you. Please?” Ava’s eyes softened—that lovesick look I hated—and she began to stand. I tossed the engagement ring onto the table. It clattered, silencing the room. “Choose carefully,” I said, my voice low. “Him, or the entire Chen family fortune.” Ava froze. Her ex, Leo, glared at me. “It’s just a game. What’s your problem?” he sneered. “Not even married and this possessive? You’ll probably cage her later.” She believed him. Turning to me with contempt, she said, “It’s a joke, John. This is the 21st century. Drop the patriarchal act.” I watched quietly as they disappeared into the private lounge. Then I called my contact. “If she treats our marriage like a game,” I said, “then the Chen family’s easy ride ends now.” 1. Ava emerged from the lounge, her clothes disheveled, just as I ended the call. Her lipstick was smudged, a faint trace of blood on her lower lip that spoke of a frantic, passionate struggle. Our eyes met, and she flinched. A moment later, her familiar perfume filled the air as she walked toward me. “John, it was just a game. Leo had to pick someone, and he chose me. Don’t be so sensitive.” My gaze drifted to her neck, and she instinctively turned away. “We… we just went through the motions. It’s a mosquito bite.” “A mosquito bite?” I scoffed. “Must be a whole swarm of them in there. They seem to have left their stamps all over your neck.” Ava’s lip trembled. “Stop being such a sarcastic asshole! Leo doesn’t know the other girls here. I was just helping him out as a friend. What’s the big deal?” Before she could continue, Leo sauntered out of the room, buttoning his shirt. “It was just a game, Mr. Astor,” he said with a smug grin. “If you’re worried, just have Ava take a morning-after pill.” He held a small box out to me, his eyes gleaming with provocation. “It is a shame, though,” he added, his voice dropping. “The pill can be rough on a woman’s body.” Ava snatched the box from his hand, her eyes flashing with disgust as she looked at me. “Why would he care about my health? He only cares about the precious little membrane down there. Fine! I’ll go to a clinic tomorrow and have it surgically replaced, how’s that?” Leo’s laughter filled the suite. He was triumphant. The other guests, seeing my cold silence, started looking at me with disdain, as if I were the one in the wrong. Looking at Ava’s defiant face, I felt like I was seeing a stranger. Five years ago, she had knelt before me, begging me to pay for her college tuition so she could escape her misogynistic family. “Mr. Astor,” she’d cried, “I’ll do anything you ask, just please help me get my education.” At the time, my family was pushing an endless parade of socialites on me for an arranged marriage. She became my convenient excuse, a shield. But over time, I fell for her. I fell hard. I poured millions into her dream of becoming an actress, pulling every string I had to shield her from the filth of the industry and propel her to A-list stardom. She dared to pull a stunt like this with Leo because she was sure I’d clean up her mess, just like I always had. I had given her everything. This was how she repaid me. “We’re not even engaged yet, John,” she snapped, seeing the look on my face. “I’ll take the pill, I’ll get the surgery, whatever. Stop looking at me like you’re at a funeral. You’re killing the mood.” The arrogance rolled off her in waves. I ignored her and answered a call. She ripped the phone from my hand and smashed it on the floor. The screen spiderwebbed into a thousand pieces. My eye twitched. “Our engagement party is in one week,” she hissed. “It’s being live-streamed globally. The whole world sees us as the perfect couple. Are you really going to start drama with me now?” “The perfect couple?” I sneered, my eyes flicking from Leo back to her. “Did you think about that when you were getting off with him in the other room?” Ava winced, hating that I’d said it so bluntly. “It was just a game, you—” “Enough.” I cut her off and took a sip of my wine. “The Astor family doesn’t need a wife who entertains old lovers on the side.” Her face flushed with rage. Before she could retort, the door opened. Her agent stood there, looking panicked. “Mr. Astor, I’m so sorry, Ava has a last-minute magazine shoot—” His eyes landed on the love bites covering her neck, and his pupils shrank. He fumbled in his bag for a compact and rushed forward, his hands shaking as he tried to cover the marks. “Mr. Astor,” he pleaded, his voice cracking, “I know you and Ava are getting engaged, but… but she can’t take this kind of abuse. I don’t know if I can even cover this up…” “What does he have to do with it?” Leo shoved the agent aside, then wrapped a possessive arm around Ava’s waist. “I’m Ava’s first love. Who the hell is John Astor?” The agent’s face went slack with shock. Ava, however, didn’t seem to care. “You can go,” she said to her agent. “I’ll—” Leo cut her off by kissing her, hard. “Baby,” he purred, “why is your agent a man? It makes me jealous.” He looked at me, his voice high with victory. “Mr. Astor, you seem to enjoy pairing your fiancée up with other men. Maybe you secretly wanted her to get seduced, just so you could play the victim? Tsk, tsk.” SMACK! The agent, trembling with rage, slapped Leo across the face. I had hand-picked this man for Ava; he knew better than anyone that her entire career was a gift from me. Ava gasped and cradled Leo’s face, then turned on the agent with murder in her eyes. “You dare touch him? Do you have a death wish?” The sight of them made me sick. I set down my glass. “That’s enough,” I said calmly to the agent. “Don’t dirty your hands.” “Are you doing this on purpose, John?” Ava shrieked. “Apologize to Leo! Now!” Leo. She was already calling him by his first name. “You think you can get away with this?” Leo clutched his cheek, his face a mask of fury as he pointed at me. “Fine! See if I don’t ruin your precious engagement party!” He stormed out, slamming the door behind him. 2. The moment Leo was gone, Ava grabbed a heavy glass ashtray from the table and hurled it at my head. “John Astor, if anything happens to Leo, I will kill you!” I stared into her hate-filled eyes, a cold knot tightening in my stomach. This was the woman I had loved for five years. All my devotion, all my sacrifice, meant nothing next to her first love. Blood trickled down my forehead. Between the blood and the shattered phone on the floor, I felt every last feeling I had for her die. The agent shakily offered me his phone. “Mr… Mr. Astor, the paparazzi got shots of Miss Chen running out after Mr. Carter. What should we do?” I glanced at the screen. “What does it have to do with me?” This time, I wasn’t cleaning up her mess. When I arrived home, I found Ava and her father sitting in my living room. “John, my boy,” her father began, his smile oily. “I heard you and my Ava had a little spat?” I calmly placed the diamond ring on the coffee table. “We didn’t have a spat,” I said. “I’m informing her that the engagement is canceled.” Her father’s smile vanished. He staggered back a step. “But… marriage isn’t a child’s game! Did you see those headlines about Ava? It’s all lies! My daughter would never do such a thing.” I looked at Ava with cold contempt. “Your daughter has already found herself a new sugar daddy.” Her father stared at her. “What is he talking about?” Seeing her silent, I let out another humorless laugh. “Why are you playing mute now? Or should I help you two lovebirds find a way to be together? Your daughter screws her ex-lover in front of her fiancé. Since you’re so madly in love, who am I to stand in your way?” Ava’s face darkened with anger. “Is that all you can do, John? Make sarcastic remarks? Who the hell do you think you are?” Five years ago, she knelt at my feet, desperate to escape her family and make something of herself. I was captivated by the fire in her stubborn eyes. I thought, over time, that my love could soften that fire into warmth. For five years, I lifted her up, building an entire kingdom for her in the entertainment world. I finally understood. Some people’s hearts are made of stone. I had handed her my world on a platter, and in return, she just found new ways to stomp on it. “Mr. Astor, this was all her doing! It has nothing to do with the Chen family!” her father blurted, just as I knew he would. He knew exactly which side his bread was buttered on. “Please, she’s young and foolish. Give her one more chance…” He wasn’t about to give back all the benefits my family had bestowed upon his. “That’s enough, Dad,” Ava interrupted, grabbing my arm and pulling me into the bedroom, locking the door. “John, it was one stupid mistake. Was it really necessary to have me crucified online? Are you trying to get me canceled?” What? She thought I was the one who leaked the story to the press? The audacity was breathtaking. I had to laugh. “You created this disaster. What does it have to do with me?” “Who else would dare post negative stories about me if not for you?” I raised an eyebrow. “So, you do know that you only have a clean record because of me? Then what are you to me now? Why should I be responsible for cleaning up the messes you make?” The color drained from her face. Just then, her phone rang, saving her from having to answer. “Hello? Leo… what?! I’ll be right there!” Her eyes shot to me, filled with a renewed hatred. “Calm down! The only person I’ve ever wanted to marry is you!” She hung up, ripped the engagement ring I had given her off her finger, and threw it at my face with all her might. The sharp edge of the diamond sliced across my cheek, leaving a deep, bloody gash. Her eyes were red with panic. “John, Leo is threatening to jump off a building because of our engagement! If you have any decency left, you’ll let him go!” 3. I watched her sprint out the door, and I found the situation absurdly funny. So, she could feel panic. She could lose control over someone. A sharp pain lanced through my chest, and my throat felt tight. I held the ring up in front of her father’s face. “As you can see, she has agreed to cancel the engagement. Please leave.” He started to protest, but when I told him I would sever all business ties with his company if he didn’t leave immediately, he turned and fled without another word. The next morning, I found a small digital camera on my doorstep. I recognized it as Ava’s. My curiosity got the better of me, and I picked it up. The moment I pressed play, the screen filled with a sickening image of blood and matted fur. I recognized him instantly. It was the puppy my mother had given me before she died. The last living piece of her I had left. The video showed my sweet, gentle Lucky howling in agony, his once-white fur stained crimson. My heart felt like it was being shredded. Blood roared in my ears. With trembling hands, I dialed Ava’s number. “Ava, where is Lucky?! What did you do to him?!” Her voice was dismissive. “What? Don’t you like the gift I sent you?” I forced myself to stay calm. “Where. Is. Lucky?” A cold laugh echoed down the line. “So you do have feelings. What a shame I can’t see your face right now. It must be hilarious.” “Ava, you better pray that dog is alive,” I growled, “or I will make you wish you were never born!” She cackled as if I’d told the funniest joke in the world. “You still think you’re the king of New York? You think I’m scared of you anymore? Let me tell you, John, this is what you get for messing with Leo!” My face was a grim mask as I told my assistant to drive me to the Chen residence. He stood there, hesitating, a worried look on his face. “Spit it out,” I said, rubbing my temples. “Miss Sterling called earlier,” he said quietly. “She hopes you won’t do anything rash. She wants you to reconsider the engagement.” “The Astor and Sterling families are the two biggest players in this city. A merger through marriage is the logical choice. What’s her issue with it?” The assistant paused. “Perhaps… Miss Sterling doesn’t want a marriage based purely on business. You know she’s been in love with you for a long time. She thinks you should look at people other than Miss Chen.” I sighed. “Tell her I’ll think about it.” The next sound I heard was the deafening screech of tires. A massive truck, seemingly out of control, slammed into us from the side. CRUNCH! Our car was thrown several meters, rolling over once before coming to a stop. The taste of blood filled my mouth. My vision swam. The agony racking my body was so intense I nearly passed out. Through the shattered windshield, I saw Leo walking towards me, carrying a bundle of red. A faint, dying whimper told me it was Lucky. “Little bastard’s tough,” Leo sneered. “Still breathing after all that.” Lucky! I tried to move, to get out, but my legs were pinned. Every movement sent waves of excruciating pain through me. “Let him go…” I gasped. “Let him go?” Leo laughed. He stomped on the hand I’d managed to stretch out of the broken window, grinding it into the asphalt. “You clung to Ava for five years. Why didn’t you let us go?” He lifted his arm and brutally slammed Lucky onto the ground. The little dog let out a choked cry and went limp, a broken heap of fur and blood. “LEO!” I roared, my vision turning red, blood spilling from my lips. “That was my mother’s—” “I don’t care if it belonged to God himself!” he spat. He crouched down and wrapped his hands around my neck, squeezing with all his might. “You think Ava ever loved you? You were her ATM! A walking wallet! The only person she will ever marry is me!” His excitement grew with every word. “You’re just a pathetic loser who licked her boots! A piece of trash! Your money, your family, it was all just a stepping stone for our love!” “John, you love her so much, right? Then die for her today!” His eyes shone with a feverish glee. He picked up a brick from the debris on the road and raised it high above my head.

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I am the sole heiress of the Sterling dynasty, yet my greatest flaw, apparently, is being a woman. Everyone said the three wards my father selected and raised—my potential suitors—were the true successors. Yet, they never once looked at me with anything other than indifference. I flirted with Ethan Cole a hundred times, only to be met with countless looks of disdain. I thought he was just cold to all women, until I saw him holding the hands of the housekeeper’s daughter, Mia Banks, swearing an oath: “I only agreed to the engagement to repay the Sterling family for raising me. Once I take control of the company, I will marry you with all the glory you deserve. As long as Serena doesn’t hurt you, I’ll give her a few million to go live her life abroad.” “You are the only wife in my heart.” On the eve of the shareholders’ meeting, my father asked me to make my choice. I thought of the evasive eyes of those three men and smiled: “I’m a Sterling, after all. Marriage should be about maximizing benefits.” “I choose Adrian Hale of the Hale dynasty.” My father frowned deeply. “Adrian Hale was paralyzed in a car accident five years ago. He’s not only disabled but rumored to be incapable of intimacy. Are you sure?” …… 1 My tone was soft but firm. “In our social class, true love is a fairy tale. Since it’s all about interests, naturally, I should choose the Hale family, who offer the greatest advantage.” My father’s face was grave. “That may be true, but the three young men I raised for you… did none of them catch your eye?” Father loved Mother deeply, but she passed away from a sudden brain aneurysm the year I was born. He couldn’t bear to remarry, yet he couldn’t rest easy leaving the colossal Sterling empire in the hands of a daughter. Taking a friend’s advice, Father adopted three orphaned boys. He wrote his will early: whichever one I chose would rule the company alongside me, suppressing the other board members. Father loved me, but that didn’t conflict with his belief that a woman couldn’t hold up the sky of the Sterling empire alone. I looked at him. “Although Adrian is paralyzed and supposedly impotent, modern medicine is advanced. I can have his heir through IVF. He is the sole heir to the Hale fortune. Rather than choosing an orphan to help the Sterlings, I’d prefer a powerful ally.” Father nodded slowly. “Since those three didn’t have the skill to keep your heart, there’s no need for them to stay at Sterling Industries.” If I merely said Ethan didn’t love me, Father would have forced Ethan to his knees, questioning what right an adopted son had to refuse me. I didn’t want Father to use years of gratitude to kidnap Ethan morally, nor did I want to force a loveless marriage. Besides, Ethan’s words had already frozen my heart. A clean break was the greatest mercy I could offer. As we walked out of the office, Father shot a sideways glance at Ethan. After Ethan dutifully saw Father off, he turned to frown at me, his eyes filled with disgust. “What did you tattle about this time?” I hadn’t even spoken when Caleb Reed, standing nearby, scoffed. “Isn’t it obvious? Probably complaining that we didn’t play with her or pamper her.” Leo Pierce, the third of them, looked at me with undisguised contempt. “Serena Sterling, the era of royalty is over. Do you really think having money makes you a princess who the world must revolve around?” The three of them stood united, using sharp words to pierce me. I was genuinely puzzled. “If none of you wanted to marry me, why did you never tell my father?” Father had groomed them, yes, but he never forced them. If they had said “no,” Father would have given them a sum of money and sent them abroad to live freely. In the end, they just couldn’t let go of the wealth behind the Sterling name. Leo, the most temperamental, clicked his tongue impatiently. “Easy for you to say. You know we’re living under someone else’s roof. We’re practically dogs raised by the Sterlings. What right did we have to refuse?” Ethan looked at me with a grim expression. “If you’re going to choose me, just get it over with. I only hope you won’t make life difficult for Leo and Caleb.” 2 Hearing this, Leo and Caleb looked visibly moved. Watching Ethan’s expression of self-sacrificing martyrdom, I felt nothing but bitterness. Before I could speak, Mia Banks suddenly appeared. The moment she saw me, she shrank behind Ethan as if terrified. Ethan instinctively shielded Mia. “She didn’t do anything. Just let her go today.” I looked at them in confusion, realizing that the three men who were supposed to protect me were now forming a human wall around Mia, terrified I would bully her. Five years ago, when Mia first came to the estate, she gave me a hair clip. I reciprocated with a bracelet worth a hundred thousand dollars as a welcome gift. But the moment I opened the jewelry box, Ethan snatched it away. He shouted, “You’re trying to take the only keepsake her mother left her?” I looked at Mia, wanting her to explain that she had given it to me voluntarily. Instead, Mia suddenly burst into tears. “It wasn’t Miss Serena who took it… I gave it to her voluntarily.” “Miss Serena is very good to me. She even gave me a bracelet. I’m really not aggrieved.” She cried so pitifully that the three men, reminded of their own status as orphans, saw red. They questioned me with righteous indignation: “Even if you’re the Sterling heiress, you have no right to force someone to give up their mother’s legacy!” “The hair clip might be cheap, but its meaning is far greater than this expensive bracelet. Give it back to Mia!” “You’re as domineering as ever, only caring about your own happiness.” My face fell. Thinking it was a misunderstanding, I suppressed my anger and handed the clip back to Mia. But when she reached for it, she didn’t hold it firmly. The clip fell and shattered. She bit her lip and screamed at me: “If you’d rather destroy it than return it to me, why put on this show?” Ethan, who hated seeing the weak bullied, threatened me coldly: “Apologize to Mia right now, or don’t blame me for calling off the engagement!” Back then, I had already confessed to Ethan, telling him I wouldn’t marry anyone else. Ethan used that against me, forcing me to bow my head to Mia. I was too young and too afraid of losing the love of my life to defend myself. So I apologized. And that apology lasted for five full years. Since then, whenever Mia saw me, she acted like a mouse meeting a cat—either trembling in fear or bursting into tears. 3 But I hadn’t done anything… I looked at Ethan coldly. “If you’re so afraid I’ll bully Mia, maybe you should tie her to your belt.” Ethan frowned at my sarcasm. “Are you threatening me? What do you want to do to Mia?” Leo clapped his hands, pointing at me. “Is it because we gave the ‘Ocean of Stars’ to Mia? Are you planning to use that as an excuse to torture her?” Caleb looked at me with cold eyes. “You have everything, Serena. But no one has ever celebrated Mia’s birthday. It’s just an aquarium project. Do you have to be so petty?” My eyes turned icy. “The Ocean of Stars?” The Ocean of Stars was an underground aquarium project that started construction the year I was born. In the southeast corner, there was a massive panel of imperial green jade. Through the shimmering water, it reflected light like a cosmic galaxy. It was nearing completion six months ago. Father had given the finishing task to Ethan, intending for him to present it to me at my birthday banquet next month. But now, the gift that belonged to me had become Mia’s. My gaze landed on Ethan. He was in charge of the final phase. Without his permission, no one could enter the unopened aquarium. Ethan looked guilty under my scrutiny and turned his head away in annoyance. “Mia grew up in the countryside working for a living. She’s never seen a proper starry sky. I just wanted to grant her a wish. Besides, doesn’t the ownership still belong to you?” “Stop being unreasonable. Fine, I’ll announce our engagement at your birthday party next month. Are you satisfied now?” Looking at Ethan’s charitable expression, I almost thought I was the adopted one. Yet no one present felt anything was wrong. Instead, they felt sorry for Ethan. “Why make such a sacrifice? Serena is spoiled and vicious. Marrying her is worse than becoming a monk.” “Serena is probably dizzy with joy right now. Her wish is finally coming true.” “Sob… Ethan, please don’t ruin your life for me. I’ll kneel and beg Sister Serena. I’ll be her servant. I’ll do anything…” My throat was dry as I spat out a sentence: “I won’t marry you.” Ethan raised an eyebrow in surprise and skepticism. Leo and Caleb looked at each other, terrified I might say I wanted to marry them instead. Being so despised by the three people I grew up with… if I didn’t leave now, I wouldn’t be able to hold back my tears. 4 I turned to leave, but Mia grabbed my wrist. Her eyes were red as she begged me: “Please don’t make things hard for Ethan. The three of them were adopted by your family; they already feel inferior. If you’re angry because they gave the Ocean of Stars to me and want to tell Mr. Sterling, I’m willing to apologize.” She looked ready to make a scene, her forehead already red. Ethan helped her up with a pained expression and glared at me. “You say you won’t marry me, but you better mean it! Using retreat as an advance to bully Mia—what kind of skill is that?” “You just want to use this to complain and force Mia away, don’t you?” I looked at Ethan coldly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but rest assured, I will absolutely not choose you as my husband.” I thought Ethan would drop it, but he grabbed my hand. “If not me, who? Caleb? Leo?” “Leo loves art and needs to study abroad. Caleb yearns for freedom. Isn’t ruining me enough? You want to ruin them too?” Ethan took a deep breath. “As long as you promise not to target Mia from now on, I will marry you. Stop making a scene, okay?” His eyes were filled with exhaustion, as if I had been torturing him for ages. I looked deeply at Ethan. “Everything will be as you wish.” He was afraid I would bully Mia, and he didn’t want to marry me. Once I married Adrian Hale, all his worries would be solved. I didn’t seek Ethan out for the next month. It wasn’t until the day of my birthday banquet that he appeared with a cold face. Caleb and Leo followed him, looking equally unhappy. I frowned at my assistant. I had explicitly said that the engagement announcement today wasn’t about them, so there was no need to invite them. But the assistant shook her head frantically, signaling she didn’t know—they had come on their own. I sighed helplessly and pretended not to see them. The guests were more enthusiastic than I was, greeting the three of them warmly. “Young Mr. Cole is truly promising. The project you secured last month brought in millions, didn’t it? No wonder Miss Sterling is devoted only to you.” But I was the one who negotiated that project. Ethan just signed the papers. “Young Mr. Pierce has a temper, but he hates evil. Miss Sterling surely won’t suffer any grievances with you.” I laughed internally. Leo was the one who bullied me the most, viewing me as a viper he wished he could exterminate. “Young Mr. Reed is handsome and talented. Miss Sterling can’t go wrong choosing you.” The three of them moved through my birthday party like fish in water, acting like the hosts. I frowned, wanting to stop this farce, when all three of them suddenly looked down at their phones.

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Big news! The rookie genius jungler, Ace, appeared on his live stream looking heartbroken. His eyes were red, implying he had just been dumped. But at the same time, I heard his thoughts through the screen: 【Babe sent a message about getting back together. It’s over. Is this for her ex?】 【Why did she send it to me by mistake?】 【I haven’t even confessed yet! How can they get back together?!】 【Boo hoo, what should I do!】 At this moment, I looked at the message I just sent to my gaming buddy and fell into deep thought… 1 I’m a popular actress. But no one knows. I’m also an internet-addicted girl. Not playing games feels worse than death. Not only that, I’m a keyboard warrior. Like right now… “What are you pretending for? Sprinkling rice on the keyboard and letting a chicken peck at it would play better than you.” “Keep clicking surrender, are you French?” “Even a donkey would kneel and call you master when seeing you play. Is your ancestral grave decorated with trash?” I stared at our jungler’s record. 0-10. I was seeing red. Mirror is my favorite hero. I felt like he was desecrating it! I turned on the mic. I screamed and shouted continuously for five minutes. Just as I took a deep breath, preparing to start round two, a clear, calm male voice suddenly came through the channel: “Sorry, my cousin was playing just now.” “Don’t worry. With me here, we can win.” I laughed angrily. Blaming the cousin for a bad record? Classic. I sneered: “Why don’t you say an 80-year-old man with a cane was playing?” “So good at shifting blame, it’s a pity you’re not a chef, buddy.” As soon as I finished speaking, the jungler suddenly rushed into the crowd. I was just about to mock him for overestimating himself. But the Mirror he controlled smoothly unleashed a combo. Flash. Slash. What?? Triple kill? My breath caught in my throat. The jungler said helplessly: “Stop talking. It’s noisy.” No way, is this kid for real? I intended to continue cursing. But Mirror unleashed another set of bush ambush operations that left me speechless… The second half of the game completely became the jungler’s personal show. The record went from 0-10 to 20-10. Until the enemy crystal shattered. I hadn’t even reacted yet. We won? Just like that? 2 I dazedly clicked into the results page. A notification popped up immediately: [‘Stealing the Moon’ requests to add you as a friend.] I quickly clicked accept. Understood. I completely understood! This jungler wants more. He wants to continue the flame war with me, right? I’ve never been afraid of anyone when it comes to trash talking! But seeing his message, I was stunned. [My cousin broke his arm, so he didn’t play well.] [I apologize to you on his behalf.] I sat up abruptly in bed. I wished I could slap myself a few times. I’m really not human! I typed furiously: [Sorry, I didn’t know it was like that, I was offensive…] The other side sent a voice message. A super distinct, squeaky elementary school voice. He even sniffled: “It’s okay sister, I’m just too bad.” I froze. I’m done for. I actually scolded a child until he cried! I felt terribly guilty and reflected deeply. I quickly apologized: [Actually, I have a foul mouth.] [How about I compensate you with some money? Kid, stop crying okay?] [Add me, sister will treat you to snacks and boba tea. Don’t be mad at sister.] [Do you want the Hellfire skin? Sister will gift it to you.] I sent my contact information. The other side was silent for a long time before saying: [Is the profile picture you?] My WeChat profile picture has always been a photo of me when I was little. A chubby toddler look, very different from the glamorous actress I am now. I guessed he wouldn’t recognize my true identity based on this photo. So I replied calmly: [Yes, why?] The other side sent a voice message. It changed back to that clear, mature male voice: “Nothing, just think it’s quite cute.” “My cousin has been comforted, he went home.” “Are you still playing? I’ll carry you.” Eh? Why does it feel like this person’s voice became even nicer? But I didn’t think much of it. [OK, let’s duo.] 3 ‘Stealing the Moon’ is too skilled!! One afternoon. He carried me to win 10 games straight. We didn’t lose a single one. And he was incredibly considerate. I played mid, he gave me the blue buff. I played marksman, he fed me kills. I laughed until my face hurt. Hahaha, truly refreshing! I never thought I would meet such a compatible gaming buddy! For the next month, continuously, as soon as I finished filming on set, I couldn’t wait to invite ‘Stealing the Moon’ to play. He responded to every request. Our dialogue was also extremely concise. [Get on.] [Coming.] When the season was about to end, both ‘Stealing the Moon’ and I successfully promoted to high ranks. Hehe. I even changed my ID to ‘Hiding the Sun’. Can’t help it. Duo gaming buddies must have chemistry. IDs must be matching too. 4 Sigh. Pity I can’t play games happily all the time. I still have to work hard to make money. Filming had entered the final stage. I was so busy that I didn’t have time to log in for several days. Until the day we wrapped. I collapsed in the lounge exhausted. Only then did I have time to check my phone. ‘Stealing the Moon’ asked me: [Game?] Women have those difficult days every month. I clutched my stomach and rolled over: [No, busy with work all day, so tired.] [And my stomach hurts, no energy to play.] ‘Stealing the Moon’ was still brief: [Got it, give me an address.] I typed a question mark. But I still sent the location. I was still in the mood to joke: [Don’t tell me you want to come find me offline for duo?] [This offline meeting move is too ruthless. Pity I’m in the middle of nowhere.] [Hehe, you can’t find me.] ‘Stealing the Moon’ sent a cute cat emoji. Stolen from me. Copycat. But soon, I knew why he wanted my address. The delivery guy grabbed the director’s megaphone and shouted on set: “Who is ‘Hiding the Sun’?!” “Your delivery is here!” I never thought having this ID read out in public could be so shameful. I fled in panic. I only dared to instruct my assistant to get it. The bag weighed at least five pounds. Boba tea, strawberry cake, crystal shrimp dumplings, stomach medicine, Ibuprofen… Everything one could think of. I dazedly took a photo for ‘Stealing the Moon’: [You bought this?] [Yeah. Rest well. Health is more important than games.] 5 After returning home from the set, my agent mercifully gave me a break. I came alive again. And the game just started a new season. I was itching to rank up. But ‘Stealing the Moon’ has been acting weird these few days. Always taking a long time to reply. Before, he replied instantly. And he always refused when I asked him to play. [Get on.] [Overtime tonight, next time.] … [Game?] [Busy recently, not much time.] … [Miss you, wanna duo.] [Sorry, still have something to do today.] I looked at the screen and sighed deeply. The latest chat was already five days ago. Does he think playing with me is boring now? So he makes excuses to reject me? I lay bored on the bed playing with my phone. Suddenly a notification popped up: [KTG Team – Ace, whom you follow closely, has started streaming.] 6 Melancholy swept away. I clicked into the stream happily. I’m a long-time fan of Ace! Since he started playing professionally, I’ve been following him. Handsome, skilled. Who wouldn’t like such a player! This year’s Spring Split, Ace played as the starting jungler for the first time and amazed everyone. Top-tier strategy plus superb mechanics. He became the new top jungler in the esports circle in one fell swoop. This is his first stream after the competition ended. On camera, Ace’s thin lips were tightly pursed, his side profile cold and hard. He had an air of aloofness pushing people thousands of miles away. I waved my hand and sent 10 Carnivals directly. [Bad mood today?] Ace looked up at the screen and said lightly: “Thanks to ‘Melting Ace into My Heart’ for the gift.” “Not in a bad mood, just a bit tired from overtime.” I didn’t speak. I just kept spamming gifts. I understand. The best comfort for overtime is money. Comments floated across the stream: [The top donor’s gifts must add up to 100k! Sugar mommy, hungry, feed me!] [You kid! Streaming equals overtime, right? We are redundant, understood.] [Feels like Little Ace is indeed tired recently. Competitions and training at the base, plus making up streaming hours at the end of the month.] Ace didn’t look at the comments anymore. Head down, he started a game. He picked his signature hero, Mirror. Operations flowing like water. He controlled the rhythm of the whole field from the start. Invading, killing, tower diving. The combos were smooth as silk. I watched with hearts in my eyes. But another person’s figure appeared in my mind.

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The moment I stepped through the Ashworths’ front door, a small boy, no older than six, burst past me and threw himself to his knees before the family. “Grandma, I finally get to meet you!” he wailed. “Mommy said she’s the real heiress, the one who was switched at birth, and she was coming back to the Ashworth manor to live a life of luxury.” “But I was born from her and some man she wasn’t married to, so she couldn’t bring me with her.” “But I wanted to see you all so much! Even if Mommy beats me to death for this, I won’t regret it!” As he spoke, he shot a timid, fearful glance in my direction. Julian Ashworth, the eldest son, frowned in disgust. “Utterly shameless. What a disgrace to the Ashworth name!” The fake heiress, Vivian, offered a saccharine attempt at comfort. “Don’t be too hard on her, Julian. She must have made a mistake. The child, at least, is innocent.” At that, the little boy pulled out a photograph. It was a picture of me, with my arm wrapped affectionately around him. He grabbed my hand, his eyes wide with a desperate longing. “Mommy, I’ll leave now…” “I’ll disappear, just like you wanted. I’ll go back to living on the streets. I promise I won’t ruin your new life here at the manor!” I tilted my head, an amused smile playing on my lips. Funny. I don’t remember ever saying I was the long-lost daughter. … The boy scrambled to his feet and began to stumble towards the door. “Wait a minute!” Eleanor Ashworth cried, finally snapping out of her shock. Her voice, sharp with emotion, made the boy instantly flinch. He wrapped his arms around his head and curled into a ball on the floor, trembling violently. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” he whimpered, his lips quivering. “Mutt won’t do it again. Please don’t hit me, Mommy!” “Mutt will slap himself! I’ll do it until Mommy is happy!” He raised a small hand to strike his own face, but Julian lunged forward and grabbed his wrist. Julian’s face was a dark thundercloud. “What did you say your name was?” he asked, his voice low and incredulous. “Mutt?” “What kind of a name is that for a person?” The boy shrank back, glancing fearfully at me before quickly lowering his head. Eleanor knelt beside him, her voice softening as she tentatively stroked his hair. “It’s alright, sweetie. Don’t be afraid. You can tell us anything.” The boy’s head shot up, his eyes swimming with tears as he looked at Eleanor. “Grandma, you’re so nice. Mommy has never, ever spoken to me so gently…” “My daddy ran away as soon as I was born, so Mommy has always hated me.” “She gave me that name so I would never forget that I’m just a dog.” “Until I was three, she chained me to a tree outside and fed me from a dog bowl!” “It was only because a neighbor threatened to call Child Protective Services that she finally let me live inside the house…” As his words hung in the air, every eye in the room turned on me. Julian pointed a shaking finger, his voice raw with fury. “Are you even human, Lily?” “He’s your own son!” “You couldn’t control yourself, had a child out of wedlock with some stranger, and you take all your resentment out on him!” “Someone like you has no right to be an Ashworth!” Eleanor shook her head, her face a mask of disappointment. “If you can be this cruel to your own flesh and blood, what genuine feelings could you possibly have for us?” “It seems the boy was right. You’re only here for the Ashworth fortune!” Vivian, who had been silent until now, rushed to Eleanor’s side and gently rubbed her back. “Mother, please don’t get upset! It’s bad for your health!” “I’m sure my sister has her reasons. Sister, if you have some story to tell, please explain it to Mother.” “Were you… were you forced?” I ignored her, my gaze fixed on the boy. For a split second, I saw a flicker of triumph in his eyes. When he saw me looking, he immediately began to tremble again. “Mommy, don’t worry,” he whispered meekly. “I’ll never tell Grandma that you plan to kick her adopted daughter out and take over the manor!” “Or that you said the fake heiress stole your life, and once she’s gone, you’re going to hire men to… to defile her and make her suffer!” He clapped a hand over his mouth, feigning regret. “Oh, Mommy, I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have said that…” A humorless smile touched my lips. “You certainly haven’t left anything out, have you?” “Haven’t you heard, little boy? Liars get punished. Sometimes, they even lose their tongues.” The boy’s face went white, his eyes widening in terror. “You shut your mouth, Lily!” Julian’s face was flushed with rage. “You dare threaten a child right in front of us?” “You want to kick Vivian out? And defile her? How can you be so venomous?” “Let me tell you something. We would throw you out on the street before we ever let Vivian leave!” “She will always be my sister!” Eleanor nodded in agreement. “That’s right! Lily, we may have acknowledged you as our blood, but Vivian is our daughter too. You must accept that!” Vivian’s eyes welled with tears. Taking a few deep breaths, she walked over to me. “Sister, I don’t blame you. It’s true that I’m the one who stole your life.” She reached out and took my hand in hers. “But I can’t bear to leave Mom, Dad, and Julian. Please, I’m begging you, don’t make me go… Can’t we be real sisters?” “I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you!” “Ah!” Vivian cried out, snatching her hand back with a sharp hiss of pain. She stared at me, her voice trembling with hurt. “Sister… why… why did you pinch me?” The boy immediately rushed forward and grabbed the hem of my shirt. “Mommy, calm down! You can hit me, but you can’t just hit other people!” As he spoke, he deliberately rolled up his sleeve, revealing angry purple bruises on his small arm. Eleanor gasped. She grabbed Vivian’s hand and, sure enough, saw a raw, red mark near her thumb where I had supposedly pinched her. She whirled on me. “Lily, you dare lay a hand on Vivian? You uncultured brute!” Julian was more direct. He raised his hand to slap me. I caught his wrist, my voice cold as ice. “Shouldn’t you take a closer look at the child’s injuries first?” Julian froze, then glared at me with contempt. “What? Now you’re pretending to care about him? Stop the act!” I ignored him and reached for the boy’s arm. He tried to pull away, a flash of malice in his eyes. I swiped a firm hand across his arm. Eleanor, seeing this, rushed to pull him into a protective hug. “What are you doing now…” “Funny how your bruises seem to be smudging,” I interrupted her with a dry laugh. “What…” Eleanor stared, then looked down at the boy’s arm. Where the purple marks had been, there was now a distinct smear, revealing the smooth, unblemished skin underneath. Before anyone could react, I grabbed Vivian’s hand and gave it a hard wipe. “And your red mark seems to be coming off, too.” Panic flashed across both Vivian’s and the boy’s faces. I crossed my arms, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “My apologies. I forgot to mention, I have a habit of carrying makeup remover with me.” The room fell silent. Eleanor and Julian stared, mouths agape, utterly speechless. After a long moment, Eleanor finally found her voice. “Well, that doesn’t prove you didn’t pinch Vivian. It just means you didn’t pinch her hard enough to leave a mark.” “As for the red on her hand, she probably just got something on it without realizing.” “And the boy… well, after all the abuse you’ve put him through, it’s no wonder he’s learned a few tricks to protect himself.” I had to admire her ability to twist logic into such a pretzel. Julian, however, was frowning, a thoughtful expression on his face. Seeing this, the boy quickly produced the photograph of us again. “Mommy, don’t be mad,” he said with a manufactured sadness. “Mutt only did this to get your attention…” “You never wanted to be close to me. I had to beg for so long just for you to take this one picture with me.” “I thought… I thought maybe if I was hurt, you would finally pay a little attention to me…” Eleanor sighed. “You poor, poor child.” Vivian, having recovered from her initial panic, quickly chimed in. “Sister grew up in such a poor environment, of course she never received a proper education.” “What she did was cruel, but I’m sure she didn’t mean it. She just… wasn’t taught any better.” Her words only deepened the disgust on Eleanor’s face as she looked at me. I glanced at the photo, then said casually, “It’s a fake.” “That photo is Photoshopped. I don’t know this boy, and I am not his mother.” Eleanor and Julian stared. Then, Eleanor let out a harsh laugh. “Lily, I never imagined you would turn out like this.” “Selfish, cruel, and a compulsive liar. If you had just admitted it, I might have had a shred of respect for you. This just makes you even more disgusting.” I had wanted to deny it from the start, but their rapid-fire accusations had already cemented the lie as truth in their minds. Besides, I was curious to see what other tricks the little performer had up his sleeve. Vivian shook her head in disapproval. “Sister, there’s a photograph. Are you still going to deny it?” “We’ll help you raise him, I promise. Please don’t disown him. That would be too cruel…” “Don’t worry about what other people might say. It’s not a big deal!” Gossip wouldn’t be a big deal for her, of course. The whispers would all be about the Ashworths’ real heiress being shameless trash. I raised an eyebrow at her. “Whether it’s Photoshopped or not is easy enough to prove. Anyone with basic skills could tell.” “It wouldn’t even take much time.” Vivian’s face paled. “But what if the person you find is in on it with you?” she muttered, just loud enough for everyone to hear. I scoffed and was about to reply when Julian took the photo and studied it closely. “It actually is Photoshopped,” he said, a flicker of confusion in his eyes. “Could it be… this boy really isn’t Lily’s son?” Vivian went even paler. Just then, the butler rushed into the room, flustered. “Ma’am, there’s a man at the door! He claims to be Miss Lily’s husband!” A faint blush returned to Vivian’s pale cheeks, and the corner of her mouth twitched into a subtle smile. Before the butler could finish, a rough-looking man burst into the villa. His eyes lit up when he saw me, and he immediately lunged to grab my hand. “Wife! There you are! Come on, let’s go home!” He flashed a set of yellowed teeth, his voice loud and grating. Eleanor’s face was a mask of undisguised revulsion. The man, ignoring everyone else, continued to shout. “It’s me, Zeke! What’s wrong, wife? Don’t you remember that night we had together?” “You’re the one who seduced me! We had our fun, and I wanted to marry you, but then you said I was too poor and you just took off!” “I’ve been looking for you for years! Lily, you have no idea how hard I’ve been searching!” The little boy suddenly piped up. “Are… are you my daddy? I have a daddy…?” His voice trembled, and fat tears rolled down his cheeks. Zeke strode over and swept the boy into a hug. “That’s right! I’m your dad!” “I’ve always known about you, son. I’ve been looking for you this whole time!” The “father and son” clung to each other in a deeply moving reunion. I clapped my hands slowly, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “How touching. Except I have no idea who you are.” “If you continue with this charade, I’m calling the police.” Zeke’s face fell, and he instinctively glanced towards Vivian. My suspicions were confirmed. Vivian avoided his gaze and, in a seemingly casual gesture, touched her own shoulder. Zeke’s eyes lit up as if remembering something. “I have proof!” he yelled. “The night we were together, I saw it! You have a red birthmark on your left shoulder!” Before I could react, Vivian rushed forward and yanked down the collar of my shirt. There, for all to see, was a vivid red birthmark. Vivian gasped, covering her mouth. “How can this be?” “I didn’t believe a word this man said! I just wanted to help you prove your innocence, sister, but…” “Sister, please don’t be angry with me. I truly didn’t mean any harm…” I looked at her and raised an eyebrow. “You certainly did your research.” Her eyes flickered for a moment before she looked down, feigning guilt. “I just never expected…” she trailed off, then turned to Zeke, her voice firm as if defending me. “This doesn’t count! A birthmark proves nothing!” “Do you have any other proof? If not… then you can… cough cough… get out!” Vivian’s display of emotion sent her into a fit of coughing. Julian immediately wrapped an arm around her. “Vivian, don’t get so worked up. It’s bad for your health.” “This birthmark is enough to prove Lily was involved with him. She’s a woman with no self-respect. You don’t need to fight for her.” He glared at me, his face red with shame. “I am so embarrassed for you! How could the Ashworth family have a daughter like you?” “When you go out from now on, you are forbidden from telling anyone you are my sister!” Zeke’s eyes darted around, and he started yelling again. “Who says I don’t have other proof?” “If that’s not enough, I have a paternity test! It proves this boy is my son!” He puffed out his chest and pulled a folded document from his pocket. No one else seemed to notice that from the moment my birthmark was revealed, Eleanor Ashworth hadn’t said a word. She was just staring at my shoulder, lost in a daze. “You two just met today, and you already have a paternity test?” I asked, a mocking smile on my face. Vivian shot Zeke a venomous look, and he instantly looked flustered. “That’s not important!” he blustered, trying to change the subject. “What’s important is that you and I were together!” “Of course, I get it. Now that you’re a rich lady, you look down on me even more!” “I’m not asking you to marry me anymore. But you have to compensate me!” “Lily, I heard that ever since you found out you were an Ashworth, you’ve been bragging to everyone about how rich your family is!” Julian shot me another dirty look before reluctantly asking, “How much compensation do you want?” Zeke’s greedy eyes swept across the lavish villa. “Five… no, ten million! I want ten million dollars!” “Impossible!” Julian snapped. “That’s extortion. I suggest you don’t get too greedy!” “If you don’t pay up, I’ll tell the whole world about me and Lily! Let everyone see what kind of trash your Ashworth daughter really is!” “You rich people care about your reputation more than anything, don’t you?” Zeke sneered. “You!” Julian sputtered, pointing an accusatory finger at me. “Look at the mess you’ve made!” I had seen enough of the show. I let out a short, sharp laugh and turned to the little boy. “Am I really your mother? Did I really say I wouldn’t bring you back to the manor to enjoy this life of luxury?” He nodded without hesitation. I turned to the man. “And am I really your wife?” He jutted out his chin. “Of course! You told me not to bother you once you got back to the Ashworths!” I chuckled softly. “You two have certainly spun an interesting tale.” “Just stop lying and figure out how to solve this,” Julian said, rubbing his temples wearily. Vivian sighed. “Sister, it’s not that I don’t want to believe you, but… the evidence is overwhelming. Just admit it.” “Who said my name was Lily?” I asked calmly. Vivian blinked. “What? What are you talking about?” I gave her a sidelong glance. “I don’t recall ever saying that I was the real Ashworth heiress, Lily.” Julian and Vivian stared at me, their eyes wide with shock. Just then, the front door opened and Richard Ashworth, the father, walked in, beaming. “Honey, I brought Lily home!” “Lily, come, this is your mother and your brother.” A girl’s soft voice answered, and she stepped out from behind him. Only then did Richard notice the tense atmosphere. “What’s going on? Why are there so many people here today?” He looked at me, his expression grateful. “Miss Clarke! You got here even faster than we did!” “I offered to send a car for you, but you declined. I was worried we might have been neglectful!” Vivian finally found her voice, her face ashen. “Dad, what are you talking about?” “Miss Clarke? And… who did you say she is?” Vivian pointed a trembling finger at the girl behind her father. “Why, that’s Lily,” Richard said with a smile. “Your mother and I discussed it. We were worried that if word got out, Lily would be overwhelmed with attention, so I decided to go pick her up myself.” “Honey, look! Isn’t she the spitting image of you when you were young?” Eleanor, who had been silent all this time, finally reacted. Her eyes reddened, and her lips trembled. “Yes,” she whispered. “That’s my daughter, Lily.” “Because when my baby was born, the doctors showed her to me for just a moment. My daughter… had no birthmark.” “What did you say…” Vivian was completely stunned. Richard continued, “And as for Miss Clarke, we owe her our deepest gratitude!” “Her parents were the ones who adopted our Lily. And after her parents passed away, Miss Clarke worked multiple jobs to raise Lily on her own…” I had always treated Lily as my own sister, and I would have taken care of her for the rest of my life. But a while ago, Richard Ashworth found me and told me that Lily was their family’s long-lost daughter. From that day on, strange people started appearing in our neighborhood. They would quietly ask the neighbors about our family, always focusing their questions on Lily. Our neighbors, who had always looked out for us, warned me to be careful. So I came up with a plan. I asked them that if anyone else came asking, they should say that I was Lily. I was worried about my sister, and when I heard the Ashworths had an adopted daughter, I felt it was better to be safe than sorry. I just never imagined that Vivian would actually plot to frame her. …

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On the day the college entrance exam scores were released, right after receiving a call from the Harvard admissions office, I turned around and jumped into the lake to end my life. All because the night before the exam, the school bully who had been harassing me for a long time told me he could read minds. He insisted on betting with me that he could read my mind and get into Harvard too. “Sophie, if I don’t get in, I’ll pay for your sister’s kidney transplant. But if I do, you let me and my boys have fun with you for three months, for free.” Thinking of my consistent first-place rankings in mock exams and my sister’s exorbitant surgery fees, I gritted my teeth and agreed. Brad was always at the bottom of the class. I didn’t believe he could get into Harvard like me. But on the day the scores came out, I discovered with horror that not only did he score 1580, but his score was exactly the same as mine! So that day, instead of becoming a Harvard student, I was dragged into an alley by the school bully and his thugs. Not only did I not get my sister’s medical fees, but I was tortured until I was no longer human. My sister passed away due to the failed transplant. In despair, I dragged my broken body into the lake. Until my death, I couldn’t understand how a failing school bully could score 1580, exactly the same as me? When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day before the college entrance exam. This time, I won’t let him succeed again! 1 “Tomorrow is the SATs, everyone do your best!” Listening to the encouraging words of my classmates, I suddenly looked up. SATs tomorrow? Didn’t I already take them? Not only did I take them, but I also lost my life because of it. Seeing the familiar classroom and the date on the wall, I was shocked to discover that I was reborn! Reborn to the day before the SATs! The nightmare hasn’t happened yet; I still have a chance to change my destiny! However, just as my heart was surging with emotion, as soon as I walked out of the school gate, I was forcibly dragged into a corner nearby. School bully Brad pinned me against the wall, patting my cheek with his hand. His eyes were greedy, and his expression even greasier. “Beauty scholar, after the SATs, you’re going to a good university, and we won’t see each other again.” I suppressed my nausea and tried to push him away, but he was too strong for me to move. In my past life, Brad had been harassing me, but with teachers protecting me at school, he never succeeded. But on the day before the SATs, he dragged me into an alley with bad intentions. After my strong resistance, he changed his mind and said to me: “Don’t you look down on me because of my poor grades? But believe it or not, this time in the SATs, not only can I score 1580, I can get the exact same score as you.” Brad was always the tail-ender. Of course, I didn’t believe he could perform so extraordinarily in the SATs. Seeing my disbelief, Brad was even happier. “Then let’s make a bet on whether I can get into Harvard! If I don’t, I’ll pay for your sister’s kidney transplant. But if I do, you let me and my boys have fun with you for three months, for free.” I broke out in a cold sweat at his words, but the conditions he offered were too tempting. I grew up in poverty, my parents died early, and I depended on my sister. But a while ago, my sister was diagnosed with kidney failure and needed a transplant. A kidney source was available, but we didn’t have the money for the surgery. Now, the hope for my sister’s survival was right in front of me. Thinking of my consistent first-place rankings in mock exams and Brad’s consistent last place, I decided to take a bold gamble and nodded in agreement. Brad left laughing loudly. I thought I had found a way to save my sister. But I didn’t expect that when checking answers after the first day of exams, Brad could recite all my multiple-choice answers backwards, and even knew the essay materials I used for the English exam like the back of his hand. At that moment, I stood frozen in place, but Brad touched my face and grinned: “Let me tell you a secret. Actually, I practiced mind reading. I know all your thoughts clearly! So, whatever score you get, I get.” Of course, I couldn’t believe he had any mind-reading skills. So the next day, I held my breath, emptied my mind, wrote my thought process on paper, and completed the exam. But to my horror, when checking answers again, Brad’s answers were still completely identical to mine. He even deliberately sighed in front of me: “Sophie, why were you so slow on the last physics question? You almost made me run out of time.” This time, I completely collapsed. But the desperate things were yet to come. On the day of checking scores, my heart was about to jump out of my throat. But when the score popped up on the computer, I discovered with horror that Brad, who always had poor grades, not only scored 1580 like me but got exactly the same score. Soon, Brad walked up to me, held my face, and kissed it. “Let’s go, Sophie. It’s time for you to fulfill your promise.” That day, teachers and students congratulated me and Brad on getting into Harvard. Everyone also marvelled at Brad’s extraordinary performance, shocking everyone. But as soon as I walked out of the school gate, I was dragged into an alley by Brad and his hooligan friends. I cried and struggled, but they said I agreed to this myself. It wasn’t until the early hours of the next day that I dragged my broken body out of the alley. And the hospital called to tell me that because the surgery fee wasn’t paid, the kidney source was given to someone else, and my sister committed suicide in despair. Under various blows, my spirit completely collapsed. Wanting to wash myself clean, I resolutely jumped into the lake. Fortunately, heaven gave me a chance to start over. This time, I won’t let Brad succeed again! 2 Everything was the same as in my past life. Brad still asked me to bet with him. After thinking for a long time, I gritted my teeth and nodded. “Okay, I’ll bet with you!” Brad and his brothers laughed endlessly, as if I had already become their prey. And after I returned home, I immediately searched the internet non-stop for how to resist mind reading. People online said to keep a distance from mind readers. I remembered that during the SATs, Brad and I were not in the same exam room, so distance shouldn’t be a problem. They also said some objects might be mediums for mind reading. I suddenly remembered that Brad had stuffed something into my pocket just now, so I quickly took it out. It was a wrapper from the gum he finished eating. Although I couldn’t see anything magical about it, I still threw it far away. Now, I don’t have anything related to him. This time, I shouldn’t be read by Brad again, right? The next day, I arrived at the exam center early, just like in my past life. Seeing me, Brad was all smiles, pretending to hug me intimately, but actually whispering in my ear like a demon: “Sophie, don’t forget what you promised me.” I was startled, goosebumps rising all over my body. He patted my face and said encouragingly: “Sophie, you must do well in the exam. If you don’t do well, how can I get into Harvard?” He left laughing, while my nails almost dug into the flesh of my palm. Having taken the exam once, I answered unusually smoothly this time. I had thrown away everything Brad gave me. Now, he shouldn’t be able to write the same answers as me, right? After the first day of exams, as expected, classmates gathered to check answers again. Listening to them recite all the multiple-choice answers, I remained calm on the surface, but was joyful inside. Because my answers were completely consistent with the standard answers! This time, not only can I securely get into Harvard, but I might even get close to a perfect score! But just as I was about to leave, Brad suddenly grabbed my shoulder. He smiled and said to me: “Sophie, you did really well this time. You got all the multiple-choice questions right! But I think your essay wasn’t good. What era is it to still use Shakespeare as material? So old-fashioned.” Hearing his words, all the goosebumps on my body exploded, and a drop of cold sweat slowly slid down my forehead. Why, why does he still know all my answers, even whose poem I used in my essay! Clearly, this time my essay was completely different from my past life, and the materials were all new. I asked with chattering teeth: “How did you know?” “Told you, I can read minds.” He left laughing loudly. Every laugh was an insult to my dignity. 3 The next day, I sat in the exam hall, lips pursed and face solemn. After the exam bell rang, everyone around me immediately started answering, afraid of wasting a second. But I sat straight without moving a bit. The proctor noticed my anomaly and came over to kindly remind me: “Student, the exam has started. Hurry up and answer the questions.” But I nodded, yet my pen didn’t move at all. I had already decided. Since whatever answers I wrote would be known by Brad, I might as well not write anything. I absolutely won’t give him another chance to bully me! I looked at the sky, at the ground, at the leaves outside, just not at the exam paper. I don’t believe he can know what my answers are this way. Sure enough, after the exam, before I even walked out of the exam hall, Brad rushed over like a madman. He came up and strangled my neck, roaring ferociously: “Why! Why didn’t you write a single word! Are you crazy!” My face turned purple from his strangling, but for the first time, I showed a victorious smile: “Yes, I am crazy, so don’t even think about copying a single answer from me again!” Our commotion attracted the attention of countless people in the corridor. The proctor pulled Brad away and asked in confusion: “How do you know Sophie turned in a blank paper?” Brad hesitated to speak, then flung the proctor away: “Is it any of your business to control me! Get lost!” Before leaving, he pointed at my nose and ordered viciously: “Let me tell you, for the last exam this afternoon, you must do well for me! Or you’ll be sorry!” Classmates nearby whispered, not knowing what exactly happened between us. I tidied my clothes and left the exam hall with a normal expression. He told me to do well, but I refused. So for the second exam in the afternoon, I still turned in a blank paper. Despite the proctor’s several attempts to persuade me, I remained unmoved. As expected after the exam, Brad appeared outside my classroom again. But this time, because teachers were protecting me, he couldn’t come over to hurt me. Brad could only stare at me from a distance, sneering repeatedly: “Sophie, playing these little tricks with me is useless. My family has plenty of money. If I fail the exam, my parents can send me abroad! But you, a bumpkin, if you don’t get into Harvard, your life is over!” I lowered my head and remained silent. When I went to the hospital to visit my sister, she firmly grasped my hand from the sickbed. “Sis, your school teacher called just now and said you turned in a blank paper for today’s exam. Did… did you really turn in a blank paper?” I dared not look into my sister’s eyes and fell into silence. I had been studying hard just to get into a good university and earn a good future for myself and my sister. So the college entrance exam was crucial for my family, and my sister cared a lot about how I did. The teacher once said that if I did well, I could get a scholarship. This way, even without the transplant surgery, my sister would have enough medical fees to live on. Seeing my sister’s anxious look and red eyes, I nodded honestly. “Yes, I turned in blank papers for both exams today. But sister, don’t worry, I will get the money for your transplant on time.” My sister didn’t understand, but seeing me speak with such certainty, she didn’t ask further. Before leaving, my sister said to me again: “Sis, my life depends on you.” I nodded heavily: “I know, sister. I won’t let you down.” 4 Soon, it was the day the exam scores were released. The school asked all of us to go to the computer lab to check our scores. But actually, I already knew roughly how much I would score. I did very well in English and Math on the first day; both subjects were close to full marks. But I turned in blank papers for Science and History on the second day, so they were glaring zeros. Adding up to a total of 1600, I scored 800. This result made everyone’s jaws drop. In the classroom, the teacher looked at the computer screen in front of me, refreshing again and again. But no matter how many times it refreshed, it was 800. The teacher issued a desperate question: “Sophie, didn’t you say you did very well? How come there are two zeros!” “You are the only hope for Harvard in our school. You… you are harming others and yourself!” And just then, from the other end of the classroom, came the exclamations of Brad’s good friends. “Brad, how did you only score 800?” “Yeah, didn’t you say you performed extraordinarily and could sprint for Harvard?” Hearing this score, my heart sank again. Why, why can Brad always score the same as me? Before I could figure it out, Brad had already rushed towards me from the other end of the classroom. Like a beast, he pounced on me directly from the chair, then strangled my neck tightly and punched my face. “Sophie, you bitch! You harmed me! You will die a bad death!” The crazy Brad surprised everyone present. The teachers wanted to pull him away, but he was so strong that for a moment, everyone couldn’t do anything about him. Lying on the ground, watching the hysterical Brad in front of me, I couldn’t help feeling happy inside. Two lifetimes, and I finally won against him once! “Brad, the bet is over. I won. You should pay up.” Seeing me smile, Brad laughed instead: “Haha Sophie, do you think turning in a blank paper can change your destiny? Idiot! You made me miss Harvard, and I won’t let you have it easy either!” “I won’t give you a dime. Those words before were all to trick you! Your sister is still lying in the hospital. Originally, if you got into Harvard, there would be a scholarship to save her, but now, she can only wait to die!” I questioned him angrily: “You! How can you go back on your word!” Brad sneered contemptuously: “Brainless bumpkin, really thought I was doing charity? If I can’t sleep with you, I won’t give a dime!” “However, if you’re willing to sell, a hundred a time, I can call my brothers to patronize too. Maybe you can gather the money very quickly?” His words were unbearable to hear, and classmates were pointing at me. Just then, the classroom door was knocked from the outside. The old man from the mailroom asked loudly: “Is student Sophie in your class? A scholarship has been sent to the school, needing her to sign for it.” Now, Brad was completely shocked. “Impossible?! How can someone who didn’t even score 1000 get a scholarship!”

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