Category: English

On our wedding anniversary trip, my wife Russell’s sponsored student Leonardo insisted on catching a ride home in my car. My car was small, the distance was far, and I had a lot of luggage—there was no way I could take him, so I politely declined. That evening when my wife came home, she was silent for a long time. “He ended up walking home along the highway. His feet were torn to shreds.” I was confused. “Couldn’t he have just called a cab?” She nodded gently and poured me a glass of water as usual. I drank it and fell into a deep sleep. When I woke up again, I was standing on the highway under the scorching sun. Russell was intimately leaning on Leonardo’s shoulder, holding up her phone to livestream with a cold laugh. “Didn’t you say transportation was convenient? Try walking back yourself.” The livestream was on, and viewers were all betting on how far I could walk. I faced the camera and licked my cracked lips. “Had enough? If you’ve had enough, come back and pick me up.”

Heat waves shimmered off the asphalt road. Russell and Leonardo, sitting in the back seat of the Rolls-Royce, were doubled over with laughter. She held up her phone with the camera pointed at me. Comments flew densely across the livestream. “Look at Mr. James, so stubborn,” Russell’s voice was full of amusement. “Even now he still expects someone to come pick him up.” Leonardo cooperatively stuck his head out with a sympathetic expression. “Russell, maybe we should let James get in the car. In this heat, walking back could kill someone.” “Don’t rush.” Russell put her arm around his shoulder and turned to glare at me viciously. “James, I’m giving you two choices. Either apologize to Leonardo, or walk the full fifty miles.” “The highway is straight. Just follow it and you’ll get there.” The comments went even more insane. “Serves him right! When he refused to let him catch a ride, why didn’t he think about how hard it would be for him?” “Just because he’s Miss Russell’s husband, does that make him so great? Bullying people because he has some money?” “This kind of gold digger needs to be taught a lesson. I support Miss Russell!” “Look at how pathetic he looks. So satisfying.” “Walk fifty miles? He won’t make it. He’ll collapse after two.” I stood under the scorching sun. My clothes were already soaked through, and my lips had cracked in several places. Leonardo looked at me, his eyes slightly reddening as he put on a sympathetic expression. He grabbed Russell’s arm, deliberately lowering his voice. “Russell, forget it. My family was never well-off to begin with. My life is cheap—not precious like James’s. Walking a few miles is no big deal.” “James must have his reasons for not letting me catch a ride. Don’t make things difficult for him.” As he spoke, he shot me a triumphant glance from the corner of his eye. My head buzzed. Before our anniversary, Leonardo had asked to catch a ride home with me. My car was packed full of luggage—there really wasn’t room for another adult. I politely told him that calling a cab would be very convenient. I even felt a bit bad about it and specially transferred him money for the ride. Now it had turned into me bullying him, looking down on him and refusing to let him ride. “Leonardo, you’re just too kind-hearted.” Russell’s voice was ice cold. She tightened her grip on Leonardo’s arm, her gaze piercing straight at me. “You’re too easy to bully. When he used his position as my husband to make things difficult for you, he should have known this day would come.” I stared at her. This was the woman I’d loved for six years. To marry her, I’d given up SUN, the company I’d founded myself. I thought it was worth it. The first year of our marriage, our relationship was good. The second year, she started sponsoring Leonardo. The third year, after Leonardo graduated from college, she let him join the company and work as her assistant. I didn’t think much of it. Just a student from a poor background who was grateful and wanted to repay the favor by working at the company—perfectly reasonable. But gradually, things changed. Once during a company basketball game, he deliberately stepped under me while defending. When I landed, I twisted my ankle. The pain made me push him. He fell to the ground on purpose, scraping his elbow slightly. In front of hundreds of company employees, Russell sternly berated me for not knowing my own strength. That night when we got home, she didn’t speak to me for three days. Later, this kind of thing happened more and more often. Leonardo took credit for my proposal at a project meeting, presenting it as his own work. When I called him out on the spot, he just lowered his head without saying anything, putting on a fake wounded act. Russell said I was petty and couldn’t tolerate others. When Leonardo worked late, she said I, as the president and her husband, didn’t know how to be considerate of subordinates and dumped all the work on him. On Leonardo’s birthday, when I transferred him money, she said I was being perfunctory and insincere toward subordinates. Once he deliberately spilled coffee on a contract I’d just signed. I cursed at him, and he kept silent. Without even asking what happened, Russell immediately decided I had a bad temper and was bullying an honest person. At first I thought I wasn’t doing well enough, so I was careful about everything. But no matter what I did, she could always find fault. Until today, standing on the highway in hundred-and-forty-degree heat, watching my own wife lean intimately on Leonardo’s shoulder while livestreaming my misery—only then did I finally see clearly. It wasn’t that I wasn’t doing well enough. I was just in the way.

I pulled my gaze away from Russell, licked my cracked lips, and spoke to the phone camera pointed at me. My voice was hoarse but steady. “Had enough? If you’ve had enough, come back and pick me up.” The comments paused for a second, then exploded. “Is he crazy?” “Still talking tough in this condition?” Russell laughed out loud, her laughter filled with contempt and impatience. She let go of Leonardo and leaned out of the car, looking me up and down. “Still talking tough?” “I’d like to see how long you can keep that up.” She looked back at the bodyguard. “Let the hunting dogs out of the car. Mr. James is walking too slowly. Let the dogs help speed him up.” Leonardo frowned in the car, putting on a worried expression. “Russell, don’t do this. You’ll scare James.” Russell patted his hand, her tone gentle. “Don’t worry, they’re on leashes. They won’t kill him.” The car door opened, and two hunting dogs lunged at me. All my blood froze in an instant. Even though I’m a man, I’ve been afraid of dogs since childhood. Russell actually liked dogs, but after marrying me, she never kept any. She even took detours around people walking dogs, afraid I’d see them. Now she was personally releasing dogs to chase me. The two hunting dogs rushed to my feet. Without time to think, I took off running. The asphalt had been baked by the sun until it was like a red-hot iron plate. After running about fifty feet, my shoes came off, and my soles immediately blistered. Behind me, the excited barking of the two dogs grew closer and closer. “Holy shit, he’s running so fast!” “At that speed, he could medal at the Olympics, right?” “Mr. James has been hiding his skills. Usually looks so refined, but when he runs he’s faster than the dogs.” “Dying laughing, even the dogs can’t catch him.” “Well, he is Miss Russell’s husband. He works out every day—of course he’s in good shape.” The comments flew by so fast I couldn’t read them clearly, but I could imagine Russell’s expression seeing them. She leaned out of the car, the smile on her face frozen. Leonardo leaned close to Russell’s ear, his tone carrying just the right amount of concern. “Russell, James is running so fast. Even I can’t keep up with him.” Russell said nothing, squinting her eyes at me. I’d already run nearly half a mile. The blisters on my feet had all burst, and each step felt like stepping on knife blades. The dogs behind me were still chasing, but their speed had clearly slowed. The bodyguard was pulling on the chains to control the distance. Leonardo leaned halfway out the car window and shouted at me. “James, just apologize! Russell won’t make things difficult for you!” I clenched my teeth and ignored him. His tone darkened, then switched back to that aggrieved tone. “James, I’m just a kid from a poor family. My life is cheap—I deserve to walk those roads. But don’t do this to yourself.” As Leonardo said this, his voice trembled and his eyes reddened, looking like he was thinking of me. Russell pulled him back into his seat and patted his shoulder, her tone impossibly gentle. “Leonardo, you’re just too kind, taking all the blame on yourself.” At some point, the road surface had become covered with sharp-edged gravel. The moment I stepped on it, blood seeped from the soles of my feet. The dogs behind me grew even more excited smelling the blood, barking wildly as they lunged forward. The bodyguard could barely hold the chains. I stumbled forward. The gravel embedded in my wounds, each step like walking on broken glass. The blood flowed more and more, my footprints growing deeper and deeper. The livestream comments became even more frenzied. “Place your bets! I bet he can run another mile.” “I bet a quarter mile. Look at him—he’s about to collapse any second.” “Half a mile, no more than that.” “Two miles. I bet he can hold out for two more miles.” The comments started displaying odds as someone opened a betting pool on how far I could run. The numbers grew larger and larger as more and more people watched. Russell looked at the betting amounts on her phone screen, the corners of her mouth curling up slightly. She was very satisfied with this effect. She turned to glance at me, her gaze devoid of any warmth. “I want you to know in front of the entire country what happens when you cross Leonardo.” Leonardo stuck his head out the car window, staring at me, his tone still feigning concern. “James, stop being stubborn. It’s just an apology, isn’t it?” “My life is cheap—I can handle you kneeling to me.” “I won’t kneel!” Leonardo’s smile froze for a moment, then he put on that innocent expression again. He turned to look at Russell, his eyes reddening again. “Russell, look at James. He still won’t forgive me.” My vision grew more and more blurred. My body had reached its limit from blood loss.

When I collapsed, I heard exclamations in the comment section. “He’s down!” “Not even two miles. I won!” Leonardo stuck his head out the car window, looked at me for a second, then his tone suddenly took on a deliberately panicked quality. “Russell, I think James passed out from heatstroke!” Russell frowned, her tone indifferent. “Really passed out?” “Really!” Leonardo’s voice was urgent. “Russell, I heard that people with heatstroke need to be doused with cold water immediately, or it could be life-threatening!” Russell looked at him, her gaze so tender it could drip water. “Leonardo, you’re just too kind. After how he treated you, you’re still thinking about him.” Leonardo frowned, his voice deliberately low. “No matter what, he’s still James. I can’t just watch him die.” Russell patted his shoulder and turned to the bodyguard. “Go get the high-pressure water gun from the trunk.” The high-pressure water gun was connected to the vehicle’s water tank. Russell personally gripped the water gun. Leonardo stood beside her, and together they aimed at me. “Ready?” Russell’s tone was relaxed, like she was playing some kind of game. Leonardo nodded lightly. “Russell, don’t turn the pressure up too high. I’m afraid James won’t be able to take it.” “You’re too soft-hearted.” Russell shook her head with a smile. “For heatstroke you need cold water. Low pressure won’t work.” The moment the water jet shot out, my whole body bounced up from the ground. This wasn’t cooling down—this was being hit by a truck. The high-pressure water jet slammed into my body, hitting my wounds directly. The pain was so intense I couldn’t even scream, could only open my mouth in silent convulsions. Water rushed into my nostrils and mouth, choking me until my lungs felt like they would explode. I was sent rolling across the ground by the force. The back of my head hit the asphalt, and everything went black. The water jet chased me, sweeping back and forth. Russell was laughing. Leonardo beside her was shouting, “James, don’t move around, the more you move the more it hurts.” His voice was still so considerate. The comments went even more insane. Some cheered, some said it was too much, but most were just watching the spectacle. “This is way more exciting than just apologizing.” “Miss Russell really knows how to have fun.” “That water pressure has to be over two hundred pounds, right?” “Leonardo is so kind. Even at a time like this, he’s still thinking about saving someone.” The water stopped. I lay on the ground, shaking all over. My wounds had been blasted until they turned white at the edges. Blood and water mixed together, spreading beneath me. My soaked clothes stuck to my body. I couldn’t tell what was water and what was blood. Russell crouched down. A bodyguard grabbed my hair and yanked my face up. “James, have you thought it over?” Blood frothed from my mouth. I couldn’t speak. She gently stroked my hair, her tone like coaxing a child. “It’s just an apology. Is it worth torturing yourself like this? Apologize to Leonardo and I’ll take you to the hospital right away.” Leonardo stuck his head out behind her, looking at me with a nervous expression. “James, stop making Russell angry. Just say you’re sorry. I won’t hold it against you.” He moved closer, lowering his voice so only the three of us could hear. “James, just admit you were wrong. My life is cheap anyway. You can even kowtow to me—I won’t think it’s humiliating. You’re the one suffering by being stubborn like this.” I looked at his face, so close. That face wore an expression of utmost concern, his brows tightly furrowed as if he was worried sick about me. I gathered the bloody water in my mouth and spat it forcefully at his face. The bloody water splattered all over his face. Leonardo grunted, staggering back two steps, frantically wiping his face and smearing blood streaks all over it. Russell slapped me hard across the face. I staggered to one side, my face burning, my head ringing. “You don’t know what’s good for you!” The bodyguard held me down. She crouched down, her voice dropping to an icy whisper. “Still daring to bully Leonardo in this condition? Do you think I won’t kill you?” Leonardo grabbed her arm from the side, his voice tight. “Russell, forget it. James didn’t mean it. He must be feeling too terrible to act like this…” Russell pulled Leonardo behind her with one hand, pointing straight at me. “Since you’re so ungrateful, then don’t blame me.”

Russell took out a wooden box from the car and waved it in front of me. It was my grandmother’s urn. My blood froze in an instant. “You…” Russell smiled. Her smile was as gentle as on our wedding day. “Didn’t you say your grandmother loved you most when she was alive? Do you think if she knew her ashes were scattered on the highway, she’d be angry enough to come back to life?” Leonardo stood beside her, his tone light and airy. “Russell, don’t. At least she was an elderly person.” Russell ignored him and held the urn high, pointing it at the livestream camera. “Everyone, want to watch me scatter ashes live? Fifty cents per person. Crowdfunding. When it hits a thousand, I’ll scatter them.” The livestream completely exploded. “Holy shit, Miss Russell is serious!” “Fifty cents? I’ll give five hundred!” “Quick! I want to see!” “This is too exciting.” “Already donated! Miss Russell, scatter them quick!” The comments flew so fast the screen lagged. Leonardo pulled at the corner of his mouth, his voice neither loud nor soft. “James is usually so filial. I bet he’ll kneel and beg Russell now.” Russell glanced at him and nodded. She turned to look at me, her hand already reaching into the urn. “James, if you kneel now, there’s still time.” My voice was hoarse, my whole body trembling. “Russell, that’s my grandmother! You can’t!” “Why can’t I?” She tilted her head to look at me, her tone flippant. “You won’t even kowtow. I’m giving you motivation, and you’re still not happy about it?” I clenched my fists, my eyes reddening as I stared at the urn. “Russell, don’t touch my grandmother.” Leonardo crouched down and tilted his head to look at me, his face full of false sympathy. “James, stop being stubborn. It’s just kneeling, isn’t it? You don’t want her to die without peace, do you?” He leaned closer, lowering his voice. “Kneel. I’ll put something down for you. It won’t hurt.” I stared at the urn in Russell’s hand, my lips trembling, unable to speak. Russell raised the urn higher, her hand already grasping a handful. “Three, two, one…” She flung it outward. The instant the ashes flew out, suddenly a hand steadily caught the falling ash. Most of the ash that leaked through Russell’s fingers was caught. Russell’s smile froze on her face. Leonardo stepped back. She didn’t have time to curse. Because overhead, three helicopters were slowly descending.

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I was eight months pregnant when my billionaire husband Tobias was caught cheating at a hotel. The news was everywhere. Everyone felt sorry for me. There were a hundred thousand comments online calling him a scumbag. Tobias didn’t care at all. He casually transferred a hundred million dollars to me and apologized: “Sorry, things got a bit out of hand this time.” I felt a bit embarrassed to accept it, since the baby in my belly wasn’t even his. I forced down the anxiety in my chest and waved my hands frantically. “No, no need…” Tobias ignored me. His gaze locked onto my belly. His indifferent eyes became complicated. This was the first time since I got pregnant that he’d looked at my belly this seriously. He reached out his hand. His palm slowly moved toward me. His long, distinct fingers spread slightly open, as if wanting to cover my belly. His movement suddenly froze, then he forcibly pulled it back. His eyes returned to their cold detachment. “Take it.” His tone wasn’t heavy, but left no room for argument. After one phone call, my phone chimed with a text notification. I didn’t dare look, but I knew a hundred million had arrived. In that moment, my heart raced wildly. Tobias ignored me and sat down on the sofa. He casually pulled out his phone and scrolled through it, letting out a scoff. “CEO of Blackwood Group cheats during wife’s pregnancy, spotted at hotel with influencer late at night.” “Insider reveals mistress has moved into private villa while legal wife stays home alone in tears.” “Eight months pregnant in exchange for Tobias’s cold face, Mrs. Blackwood mocked as the most miserable trophy wife in history, netizens furious: He doesn’t deserve to be a father, much less a human being.” “Elliott, you’ve become the object of everyone’s sympathy online.” My face instantly burned with heat. “It’s my fault, it’s all my fault…” His gaze paused, but he said nothing. I lowered my head, not daring to look at him. “I shouldn’t have taken the place of the person you love most. You and I… we were just an accident. You can’t be with the person you like, and you’re being cursed at by people online. I’m truly sorry.” My voice grew smaller and smaller. “You can divorce me whenever you want. I don’t mind.” Tobias looked at me with surprise, a smile curling at the corner of his mouth. “What, now that you’ve got money, you dare to mention divorce?” I was rendered speechless, my face flushing bright red. Because he was right. The child wasn’t his, and I’d gotten a huge sum of money. Running away with the money, or him kicking me out—either was my best option. If he discovered the child wasn’t his, I didn’t even know how I’d die. Tobias stood up and glanced down at me condescendingly. “We’ll talk after the birth.” With those words, he left.

After dismissing two attentive servants, I couldn’t help but feel mentally exhausted. I looked down at my big belly. Hatred suddenly bloomed in my eyes. When you have a passionate romance with a man, and then he sleeps with you. The next day, he disappears without a trace. When you investigate, you discover even his name was fake. How could you not hate such a man? And I had encountered exactly that kind of man. He was the biological father of the child in my belly. What’s even more tragic is that my fate was full of unexpected turns. That day, abandoned and crying my heart out on the street, a car pulled up smoothly beside me. Then I was violently dragged into the car by a drunk Tobias. His eyes were bloodshot as he violated me while hysterically cursing and screaming at his parents. “Why don’t you two like Alice? Why? “Fine, fine, fine. You insist I have a child? Then I’ll find a woman to have one with, so you’ll have nothing to say.” This Alice was the kept woman he had now, the woman he loved most, the woman his parents looked down upon. I think he deliberately orchestrated this scandal. He deliberately let his parents know that the woman they despised was still with him. His purpose was obvious—still to anger his parents. And I was just a tool. I was terrified, helpless, struggling. Fortunately, at the last moment, he passed out drunk on top of me. We didn’t actually have sex. The next day, Tobias dragged me straight to city hall. “Since what was supposed to happen already happened, let’s register our marriage.” That’s when I understood—he thought he’d actually done it with me the night before. In front of this domineering man, I had no choice. Thinking of my ex’s disappearance filled me with even more hatred. I just broke down completely and, in a fit of anger, registered the marriage with him. But right after registering, I regretted it. Tobias’s parents—my wealthy in-laws—showed me no kindness. Tobias didn’t defend me either, just sneered. After marriage, he ignored me completely. We never even shared a bed. But what no one expected was that I got pregnant. My in-laws never came to see me. They seemed very busy, flying all over the country, constantly out of sight. Tobias stared at my belly in silence, his expression inscrutable, finally swallowing this unexpected development through gritted teeth. Only I was crying inside, because this child wasn’t his. In Tobias’s house, aborting it had become impossible. But when the truth came out, what would become of me and the child? I wanted to escape, but servants and bodyguards watched me twenty-four hours a day. Even if I ran away, with the Blackwood family’s power, catching me would be child’s play. Now, the news media was making a huge fuss denouncing Tobias, while doing everything to defend and beautify me. Unsurprisingly, it was all the work of Blackwood Group’s rivals. But all of this made me even more anxious. From my time in contact with Tobias, he was clearly a pathological violent maniac. When he lost control of his emotions, servants and bodyguards alike would suffer for no reason. Broken heads and broken limbs were commonplace. Afterward, he could settle everything with money. If he found out the child in my belly wasn’t his, my fate was easy to imagine. So, even though I now had a hundred million in my account. All I could think was: “What do I do?”

A week before delivery, my body became so heavy I could barely get out of bed. I was admitted to the Blackwood family’s private hospital. That afternoon, the hospital room door opened. It wasn’t a nurse who entered, but a beautiful stranger. She wore exquisite makeup and walked to my bedside in high heels. The moment our eyes met, I knew who she was. She was Alice. Her gaze remained fixed on my belly, her eyes glowing. No jealousy, not even hostility—like she was looking at a rare treasure. Her stare made my skin crawl. “Elliott.” She opened with a smile. “That hundred million Tobias transferred to you earlier—you received it, right? That hundred million was my idea. I told him to give it to you.” I couldn’t help but look surprised. Seeing my expression, her red lips curved upward. “You must be wondering why I’d have him transfer money to my rival?” She lowered her head, her gaze returning to my belly, a trace of bitterness at the corner of her mouth. “Because there are some things I can’t do.” “Do you know why the Blackwood family won’t let me in?” I shook my head. “I can’t have children…” When Alice said this, her knuckles had already turned white from clenching. “I see…” I murmured. She took a deep breath, her composure returning. “So, you just need to give birth to the child, then leave on your own. The child will be raised by Tobias and me from now on.” “Not only that, I’ll have Tobias give you another hundred million as compensation. That way, you’ll have the money to go far away and live the life you want. “And I’ll have solved the problem of not being able to have children. With Tobias ensuring the bloodline continues, I can marry him legitimately, and his parents won’t have much to object to. “We never thought of this solution before. Your appearance, for me, was unexpected but also a pleasant surprise.” She spread her hands with a bright smile. “Everyone wins. You’re happy, I’m happy, everyone’s happy.” What she said was indeed very logical. From a rational standpoint, this was the perfect solution. She got the child and marriage, Tobias preserved his bloodline and could answer to his family while also getting love, and I walked away with two hundred million. But… for me, an indescribable sense of humiliation pierced my heart like a needle. I carried the baby for ten months, enduring pain and nausea for so long. In the end, I was just a tool for bearing someone else’s child. The child was in my belly, but never belonged to me. And besides, this child… I lowered my head, not daring to let her see my expression. This child wasn’t even Tobias’s. So, facing her questioning gaze, I could only respond with silence. Gradually, displeasure flickered across her brow. In her eyes, I probably seemed rather ungrateful. “Ding…” Her phone rang with an incoming message. Alice glanced down at it, her expression changing slightly, and immediately stood up. “I should go. Think it over carefully. After all, you know in your heart that Tobias doesn’t care about you. Staying in the Blackwood family is meaningless for you.” The door closed softly. I slumped back against the headboard, my eyes full of confusion.

Not long after, footsteps sounded in the corridor, and the hospital room door opened again. Two familiar yet strange faces appeared in my line of sight—my long-absent in-laws. The couple who controlled a trillion-dollar empire, Anthony and Lester Blackwood. They looked travel-worn at the moment, their brows carrying some indissoluble worry, lacking their usual grace and presence. Behind them followed the expressionless Tobias. That’s when I understood why Alice left so quickly. The two people who hated her most had appeared. “Elliott, you’ve worked hard.” Lester walked to the bedside and gently touched my belly. Her voice was flat—not warm, but not cold either. “You’re a hero to the Blackwood family. Your father and I will stay here and wait for the child to be born.” Anthony nodded, saying a few platitudes like “rest well” and “safe delivery for mother and child.” I nodded obediently in response, stealing a glance at Tobias. The entire time, Tobias’s expression remained unchanged. I don’t know why, but the relationship between these three family members always gave me a strange feeling. In the end, I had no way to break this deadlock. The day of delivery still came. Everything went smoothly. I gave birth to a son. Tobias held the child, sitting by the bed with a slight curve to his lips. His eyes held no tenderness or fatherly love, only a kind of satisfaction. I understood—his thinking was the same as Alice’s. My child was the perfect chess piece to facilitate his being with Alice. Next would come the day he kicked me out and took the child. Facing this inevitable outcome, I felt only an indescribable sense of powerlessness. Looking at the son I’d carried for ten months, my eyes couldn’t help but redden. Forget it, forget it. This was fate. At least for my son, as long as he grew up safely in the Blackwood family, his future would be brilliantly bright. I had to admit, deep down I’d accepted Alice’s suggestion. I leave, the child stays—it’s best for everyone.

Lester took the child and told me I’d worked hard. Anthony also showed a rare smile, walking with his hands behind his back to Tobias’s side, looking down at the child. The atmosphere actually felt somewhat harmonious. Everyone was satisfied, until Anthony spoke. “Now that the child is born.” He turned to look at Tobias. “According to Blackwood family tradition, you and the child should verify the DNA.” The air instantly froze. The smile on Tobias’s face stiffened. He slowly raised his head, fury surging in his eyes, though he said nothing. In my view, he’d never doubted it. That drunken night—he thought it was real. In his eyes, a woman like me picked up from the street getting pregnant with his child was luck and an honor. Tobias nodded and spoke, “Alright, arrange it quickly.” No one noticed me. No one saw that the moment Anthony mentioned DNA, I felt like a bucket of ice water had been poured over me from head to toe. I had no strength left in my body. Soon, a man in a white coat pushed the door open and began taking samples. I stared intently at his every move. No… no… no… I was screaming frantically in my mind. My tears almost instantly welled up. “Elliott, why are you crying?” Lester glanced at me. “It’s just sampling. It won’t hurt the child. Don’t worry.” She thought I was just worried about the child. She didn’t think much of it. No one did. Only I knew I was afraid—afraid to my very bones. The sampling ended. The doctor left the room with the samples. The moment the door closed, I felt like I’d heard my death sentence. For the next stretch of time, I lay in the hospital bed like I was paralyzed, my mind completely blank. Like a death row prisoner at the execution ground, neck on the chopping block, just waiting for that final blow to fall. I don’t know how much time passed before that door finally opened again. The doctor who took the samples came in holding a report, his expression very grim. Everyone’s faces changed at the sight. He glanced at Tobias, then finally spoke carefully. “According to the DNA comparison results… the paternal relationship between Mr. Blackwood and the child cannot be established. The two are not biological father and son.”

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There’s a rule in my hometown village: if you’re not married by 33, you have to accept blind dates arranged by the village chief. Otherwise, misfortune will strike. When I told my boyfriend Ethan about this, he let out a cold laugh. “What century is this? Your village is still so backward and superstitious? Clara, I will marry you, but you can’t use such a cheap excuse to pressure me.” “I was actually planning to propose to you, but since you’re lying to pressure me, let’s just cool off for a while!” As he spoke, he pulled out a ring and handed it to his assistant, Lily. The wedding ring I’d waited so many years for—he casually gave it to someone else. I was stunned for a moment. Ethan walked out of my office with a swagger, a victorious smile curling at the corners of his mouth. Lily awkwardly handed the ring to me. I looked at the ring’s size, then slipped it onto Lily’s finger: “He bought it for you in the first place, didn’t he? Look, it’s a perfect fit.” “Tell Ethan that he and I are over.”

That evening when Ethan got off work, I was packing my things. Seeing the two large suitcases in front of me, he paused mid-step. “Why did you come home early today without waiting for me?” Here we go again. He always had this ability to just turn the page on his own. Then I was supposed to take the out he offered me and step down gracefully. And pretend nothing happened while we played the part of a loving couple. But now I didn’t want to pretend anymore. “Didn’t your assistant tell you? We’re done.” His brow immediately furrowed, like I’d touched a sore spot. “I’m trying to have a decent conversation with you, and you just have to be passive-aggressive, don’t you?” “Lily grew up with you. You were the one who brought her to the company in the first place. What are you being so dramatic about now?” He was right. I was indeed the one who brought Lily to the company. She and I grew up in the same village. The village chief told us to look out for each other away from home. So when she graduated from college and couldn’t find a job, I proactively brought her to our company. She was obedient and sensible, and I was happy to mentor her. Until I noticed her gazes at Ethan growing increasingly tender. I was very familiar with that look. Ethan had been a big shot back in school. I’d seen countless girls look at him that way. But Ethan’s eyes had never lingered on them for even a moment. So I dismissed it as a young girl’s crush and didn’t make an issue of it. But she kept making more and more mistakes at the company. I casually criticized her a few times. She didn’t talk back, just stood there crying while being reprimanded. But Ethan wasn’t having it. For the first time, he yelled at me in front of the entire company. “She’s just a young girl. A few words would’ve been enough, wouldn’t it?” “Who do you think you are, pulling rank on your own sister like this?” I laughed bitterly, but I wouldn’t back down. “Do you have any idea how many messes our colleagues have had to clean up because of her mistakes?” He waved his hand dismissively. “In that case, let Lily be my personal assistant!” He looked around at the colleagues watching the drama unfold. “From now on, if anyone has complaints, come straight to me! Stop gossiping behind people’s backs!” “If you can handle the work, stay! If you can’t, get out!” He strode ahead with large steps, like he’d won a battle. Lily followed behind him, her back radiating worship for Ethan. … I looked up. Ethan was looking down at me from above. I didn’t know when it started, but he began making everything about winning or losing with me, always needing to come out on top. He was no longer the man who told me in our rental apartment: “You’re the only person I’ll ever lose to in this life.” I glanced at my phone. The ticket confirmation was still on the screen. I’d be going home soon. I didn’t feel like arguing with him. “You’re right. I was being dramatic.” “It won’t happen again.” Seeing my reaction, his expression showed a moment of confusion. I figured he must have been prepared for me to act like before—to demand to know when he’d actually marry me, to question him about his unclear relationship with Lily, but he never expected me to look so defeated. After a few seconds of silence, he dropped a “whatever” and left. He didn’t come home all night.

The next morning I went to the office as usual. I could do without Ethan, but Era Media had all my blood, sweat, and tears poured into it. Even if I left, I needed to arrange the company’s affairs properly. Besides, I could still collect steady dividends every year. I was calculating who to promote to replace me on the front lines so I could provide remote guidance, when Sales Manager Amy stood at the elevator entrance looking completely defeated. She was a company veteran who’d been with me through countless deals large and small. I’d never seen her so crushed. “Miss Clara, last night we sent the quote to Mr. Ethan. Assistant Lily said he was asleep and that she’d handle it.” “But she accidentally sent our bottom-line pricing sheet to the client as well.” “Now the client is demanding we cut our price by 20%, but our profit margin is only 30%.” Her voice choked up. “This is a project we’ve been working on for half a year. If we proceed now, we’ll lose money. If we don’t, we’ll lose this client completely.” I nodded while pushing open Ethan’s office door. Lily was lying on her side on the sofa bed. Ethan was spoon-feeding her water. This sofa bed was from back when we first started the business, when Ethan bought it to force me to rest. He said: “My office is your exclusive rest area.” So even when the company moved later and we bought our own property and renovated, I still moved this sofa bed along with us. Now another woman was lying on the sofa bed, and he was carefully watching over her. Just like we used to be. My chest tightened, but strangely, it didn’t hurt anymore. Seeing me, Lily immediately sat up. “Clara, don’t misunderstand. I fainted from guilt, so Ethan was just giving me sugar water.” I remembered that the first time she met Ethan, she called him her sister’s boyfriend. I didn’t know when that had changed. I ignored her and went straight to slap the report on Ethan’s desk. “At the client’s current asking price, if we want to secure the project, we’ll lose $120,000.” I glanced at the two of them. “Which of you is going to cover it?” Lily’s eyes immediately reddened. “It’s all my fault. I should have woken Ethan up. I just felt bad that he was so tired.” “I’ll go find Mr. Li right now. I’ll beg him!” Ethan frowned tightly at the document and didn’t stop her. Amy and I stood there with no intention of stopping her either. She found herself in an awkward position, frozen in place. I crossed my arms and looked at her. “Lily, crying or begging doesn’t work in business!” She threw off the cashmere blanket, but after just two steps she collapsed to the floor. It was such a clumsy performance that I felt arguing with this kind of person was beneath me. But Ethan, the supposed business genius, believed it. He helped Lily up and carefully settled her on the sofa. “Clara, you’re always so aggressive.” “Does everyone in the world have to revolve around you?” I freed one hand to tap on the desk. “Don’t give me this irrelevant nonsense. $120,000. What are you going to do about it?” His eyes were bloodshot. “If taking this project means losing money, then we just won’t do it!” I let out a cold laugh. “Do you remember how much we drank, how many all-nighters we pulled to win this client in the first place?” “Besides, this isn’t the only project we have with them! If we drop this, how many times $120,000 will we lose?” “Ethan, did a dog eat your brain?” He glanced at me impatiently, muttering “so petty,” Then he pulled out his bank card and threw it in my face. “It’s just $120,000. I’ll cover it for her. Happy now?”

My face stung, but I was strangely calm. The poor boy who once thought $10 burgers were too expensive could now throw around $120,000 without blinking. He’d forgotten how many people’s livelihoods were in our hands. It wasn’t just about the money. Or maybe he knew, but just didn’t care anymore. Since he didn’t care about $120,000, what about a hundred times $120,000? I was curious whether he’d be so indifferent then. I met my best friend Sophia for afternoon tea. She hadn’t even finished cursing out Ethan when I received a message from Amy. “Miss Clara, please come back to the office right away!” As soon as I reached my office door, I saw Lily directing people to move my desk. All the contracts and documents were scattered on the floor. This was what I’d built bit by bit over all these years. What gave her the right? “Put everything down right now!” I took three steps in two strides and slapped Lily across the face. “Who gave you permission to touch my things?” Lily covered her face, but her eyes were defiant. “Ethan said you lost a major deal and don’t deserve this position anymore. He told you to work from a cubicle in the main area.” Probably having heard the news, Ethan came over too. Seeing the mess everywhere, his eyes flickered. “Lily, I told you to notify her. Who told you to touch her things?” Lily lowered her hand, revealing the handprint on her face, looking pitifully at Ethan. He softened immediately. “Clara, the decision was mine. If you want to take it out on someone, take it out on me.” “But rules are rules. Lily sent the bottom-line pricing sheet, yes, but it was your subordinate who submitted it to her. You bear direct responsibility.” He sighed and placed both hands on my shoulders. “I saw you bought a plane ticket.” “But I don’t have time to go back with you.” “Why don’t you take this opportunity to go home for a few days and rest, okay?” I shook off his hands. “Who said I wanted you to come? I’m going home to—” He scoffed: “To go on blind dates and get married?” “Drop the threats. Lily told me there’s no such rule in your village about having to get married at 30.” Lily also said: “Clara, don’t blame me for telling Ethan. I just couldn’t bear to see him deceived by you anymore.” I calmly looked her over. Designer suit, Chanel earrings, LV bag. Completely inconsistent with her current salary, and worlds apart from when I first met her. Back then she was still grateful to me for funding her tuition. Her first outfit for college was one I bought her. Her first bank card was one I helped her open. Her first time at a buffet was when I took her. She said she’d repay me once she graduated. And now, she leaned against my boyfriend, wearing things my boyfriend bought her, then said she felt bad that my boyfriend was being deceived by me. Even if I didn’t care about my own dignity, I wasn’t going to give them any more face. I pulled out a stack of A4 papers from my bag. In front of all my colleagues, I read aloud: “Three months ago, my boyfriend took you to a hotel. The room and contraceptives totaled $5,800.” “Two months ago, he bought you a limited edition bag worth $10,200.” “One week ago, he bought you a ring worth $126,000.” … “So tell me, who exactly is deceiving whom?”

Colleagues were whispering among themselves. Some even showed looks of disdain. Ethan’s face alternated between pale and flushed. I directed people to help me put everything back in place. Even when Ethan tried to stop them, no one listened to him. Amy was especially sarcastic: “Miss Clara, let me get some disinfectant to clean your office. It reeks of mistress in here!” She sprayed alcohol all over them. In the end, Ethan could only angrily repeat “Good! Good for you all!” Before leaving with Lily. As soon as I finished tidying up and sat down, I received a call from the village chief. “Clara, are you sure you’re coming home?” “If you’re sure, I’ll have the Sullivan boy pick you up at the train station.” I smiled for the first time in a while. “I’ve already bought my ticket, but don’t tell Grandma yet. I want to surprise her!” The village chief’s tone became cheerful too. He said “wonderful” several times before hanging up. Our village really didn’t have a rule about getting married at 30, but my grandma was 80. She couldn’t wait any longer. Ever since Ethan and I had our falling out, they became more and more brazen at the company. As if they finally didn’t have to hide from me anymore, or as if they wanted to make me angry. They were together every day, when Ethan attended events, Lily was always his female companion. She even acted like the boss’s wife at the company, ordering colleagues around. Just waiting for me to leave so she could take my place. Amy couldn’t stand them and complained to me several times. I patted her shoulder. “Stay steady. Let her be arrogant.” When Lily provoked me for the fifth time and I still didn’t take the bait, she finally couldn’t keep up the act anymore. She burst into my office without knocking. “Ethan doesn’t want you anymore. Why are you still clinging here refusing to leave?” I casually adjusted the latest designer suit she was wearing. Opening my mouth casually: “Men, well, their love follows their money.” “You know that, right? I own 49% of this company’s shares. What about you?” “Want to make a bet with me? If he’s willing to give you 10%, I’ll give up my shares and pack up and leave.” “If he’s not willing, you leave. Do you dare?” Her face turned white. But in the end she nodded: “Fine! You better not regret it!” A few days later, Lily came to my office with Ethan. She slammed an equity transfer agreement on my desk. Looking at the second clause stating a transfer of 15% shares to her, I laughed out loud. “Clara, stop pretending to be calm. Hurry up and pack your things and get out!” Ethan glanced at me somewhat uncomfortably. “Clara, don’t blame me for helping her. It’s just a bet. Consider it a consolation prize for the girl.” He changed his tone. “But we’re businesspeople who value credibility. Even personal bets require honoring the terms.” “But don’t worry, even though you’re giving up your shares, I’ll still marry you. You’ll be Mrs. Parker from now on.” “Your monthly allowance will only increase, not decrease.” “As for Lily, I won’t let her appear in front of you anymore or challenge your position as Mrs. Parker.” I never expected that after all these years, he hadn’t improved in other areas, but had learned to enjoy having multiple women. “Ethan, you’ve really got it all figured out. I should give up my dividend shares to go home and be a full-time housewife?” “I’m telling you, I’m not interested!” Lily pulled out a recording of me clearly saying I’d honor the bet and give up my shares. Then she handed me a voluntary share renunciation agreement. Amy’s eyes reddened as she tried to snatch it. I stopped her. Then I picked up the pen and signed. Lily’s face flushed with excitement. Though Ethan’s eyes flashed with complexity, it was ultimately replaced by smugness. I put down the pen and asked: “Is that enough?” Ethan nodded and announced to everyone: “From now on, Lily is my business partner. She’ll take over Clara’s position.” Some people felt threatened, but others started sucking up to her already. “We’ll definitely follow Miss Lily’s instructions from now on.” “What are you waiting for? Hurry up and move Miss Clara’s things out to make room for Miss Lily!” The thermos Ethan bought me was knocked to the floor, getting dented. The blanket I knitted myself fell on the floor and was stepped on several times. Even the orchid I raised had its branches broken off. But I didn’t stop them or get angry. I just remembered the day we first moved in, when he spun me around in circles. “Clara, we did it! This is our business empire!” My vision blurred for a moment, then cleared. I quietly watched the place I’d worked so hard for all these years being emptied bit by bit. Until the nameplate changed from “Miss Clara’s Office” to “Miss Lily’s Office.” Only then did I turn around and walk straight to Ethan’s office. I sat in his chair. I said: “Ethan, you’re fired now.”

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As I neared my due date, my husband suddenly knelt down beside my hospital bed: “Evelyn, I’ve told you three lies. I need to come clean.” Cold sweat poured down my face from the pain, and I gripped the sheets tightly: “Wait until after I give birth!” But he continued regardless: “I’m sorry. When we did IVF, I switched your eggs with my first love’s. She has a heart condition and pregnancy would be too risky for her, so I had to borrow your womb.” The pain was so intense I couldn’t speak. He stared at me, completely indifferent to the possibility that I might have an emotional breakdown or even die from complications. Then he begged with fake sincerity: “For the sake of our three years of marriage, you’ll risk your life to deliver this baby, right?” Meeting his calculating, triumphant gaze. I laughed: “That’s it?” My relaxed response stunned Nathan Cooper. He clearly hadn’t expected me to remain so calm after learning the child in my belly was the bastard of his mistress. He froze for a few seconds, then quickly put on a pained expression. “Evelyn, I know you must be devastated right now. But the baby’s about to be born. You wouldn’t have the heart to end a little life, would you?” A cold smile tugged at my lips. “Nathan Cooper, why did you choose this exact moment to tell me?” I watched his face gradually pale, my voice growing icier. “Because you know very well that inducing labor now would be a life-threatening risk for both me and the baby.” “That’s why you dare to tell me the truth so brazenly.” “This isn’t a confession. You’re threatening me!” Nathan’s thoughts exposed, panic flashed in his eyes. But more than that, he was furious with embarrassment. “Evelyn Hart, how can you be so cold-blooded and selfish? Giving birth is giving birth, regardless of whose child it is!” “I’m giving you a chance to experience motherhood!” “Not only are you ungrateful, but you’re nitpicking about everything. This is completely unreasonable!” Fury turned to laughter. I gathered all my strength and slapped him across the face. Nathan’s face whipped to the side, five bright red fingerprints appearing on his cheek. The sudden emotional surge caused sharp, stabbing pain in my abdomen. Cold sweat instantly soaked through my back. I pressed the call button at the bedside through gritted teeth. “Get Diana Monroe here now. She’s my attending physician!” Diana Monroe was the head obstetrician. She was also the impoverished student I’d sponsored for ten years. Even my parents treated her like a daughter. “My stomach hurts so much. Diana, give me an epidural…” The pain made it nearly impossible to form complete sentences. Diana rushed in wearing her white coat. But her gaze immediately landed on Nathan’s swollen cheek, and her expression turned cold: “Evelyn, you shouldn’t have hit him!” The pain made my vision darken. I almost thought I was hallucinating. “He already confessed everything to you, what more do you want? All you ever do is focus on the company. You’ve never fulfilled your responsibilities as a wife.” She got more worked up as she continued. “Evelyn, you’ve had everything since birth. Now you won’t even help a poor woman with a heart condition fulfill her dream of becoming a mother? Are you really that unwilling? When did you become such a selfish, heartless woman?” “Now Nathan has gone through so much trouble to let you experience the joy of motherhood, and you respond with such jealousy.” I watched her defend Nathan and suddenly understood. “So, the Hart family sponsored you for ten years. This is how you repay me? By being a mistress and stealing my husband?”

Diana’s expression changed. “Diana is not that kind of person!” Nathan pulled Diana protectively behind him, as if afraid I, a woman in labor, might lunge at her. He bellowed with his neck stretched out. “That’s right! This is the second secret I need to tell you. My first love is Diana!” I coldly glanced at their tightly clasped hands. The timid little girl from back then now wore delicate makeup and carried a designer bag worth hundreds of thousands. She had completely transformed. “When you were fifteen, walking barefoot in the snow picking through trash, I took off my brand-new limited edition sneakers and gave them to you. I brought you back to the Hart house.” “Later, when you got into medical school, the Hart family paid for all eight years of tuition and living expenses.” “After graduation, you said you wanted to work at this hospital. I personally spoke to the director and got you fast-tracked through the interview. You became the youngest attending physician at this hospital.” “Our whole family treated you so well. Is this how you repay us?” I looked down at Nathan like I was watching a clown. “If you wanted a man like Nathan, you could have just told me. I would have given him to you directly.” Diana bit her lower lip, her eyes flickering. But Nathan completely lost it. “There it is again! That condescending attitude! Acting like you’re above everyone, like nothing matters to you!” “Do you know that’s what I hate most about you!” He began venting his rage frantically: “Do you know why I chose Diana over you?” “Because she understands me. She knows how hard I worked to climb from being a poor kid to my position as a manager today! She cares about me and admires me!” “But in your eyes and your family’s eyes, my achievements are just a joke, aren’t they?” “My monthly salary is fifty thousand dollars, but that’s not even enough to cover the pocket money your parents give you for buying handbags! A single painting you casually bid on at auction costs more than several years of my hard work!” “You spend money like water, buying useless luxury goods. Look at Diana—she’s so thrifty and frugal. She’s the kind of good woman who can share hardships with me!” He spoke as if every word was torn from his bleeding heart, as if he were the victim who had been wronged and looked down upon. Diana’s eyes reddened as she spoke pitifully. “Evelyn, I’m sorry. Nathan and I grew up in the same village. We knew each other before you did. When you think about it, I’m not the third party.” The implication was that I was the one who had interfered with their true love. “Are you done?” I spoke calmly. Turning to my secretary, I issued clear instructions. “First, notify HR to fire Nathan Cooper and Diana Monroe immediately.” “Second, notify the hospital director to come and replace the attending physician immediately.” This top-tier private maternity hospital was a property under Hart Group. The Hart family held one hundred percent of the shares. Here, I had absolute authority. Secretary Klein stood in place and didn’t immediately execute the order as usual. He stammered and lowered his head. “Miss Hart… you, you no longer have that authority.”

I frowned slightly. Nathan couldn’t hide the smile on his face. He pulled out a document triumphantly. “Evelyn, you forgot—you already ‘voluntarily’ transferred the company to me.” It was the latest Hart Group personnel change notice, written clearly: “I, Evelyn Hart, due to personal health reasons, voluntarily resign from my position as heir to the company and all board positions, and unconditionally gift all shares and assets under my name to my husband, Mr. Nathan Cooper.” At the signature line was my own handwriting. I suddenly remembered. Three days ago, Nathan had come to me with a document, excitedly telling me. He’d pulled strings to secure a spot at the most prestigious postpartum care center in the city. The environment and services were top-notch—all I needed to do was sign the confirmation in person. At the time, I was irritable from late-pregnancy pelvic pain and signed that thick stack of documents without looking carefully. Turns out, this Property Transfer and Gift Agreement had been hidden among those postpartum center admission forms. All the shares, properties, and funds under my name had been transferred to Nathan in that moment. He turned around with the bearing of someone in power. “Secretary Klein, since Miss Hart is no longer in control of the company.” “As the new director of Hart Group, I officially appoint Ms. Diana Monroe as the new director of this hospital. Draft an appointment notice immediately.” Undisguised ecstasy appeared on Diana’s face. “Thank you, honey.” Klein looked at me helplessly. Just then, a figure hurried down the corridor—Director Wilson, who should have been in his office. He was drenched in sweat, looking panicked. “Miss Hart, we have an emergency!” “An elderly couple who suffered a serious car accident was sent to the ER. The entire car was totaled. When they arrived, they were barely recognizable, with multiple organ ruptures!” “The traffic police confirmed the license plate number.” “It’s V08801!” My heart seized. That was my parents’ exclusive vehicle. Director Wilson’s voice trembled: “The victims lost too much blood. We urgently need to request blood of the same type from the military blood bank! But activating the emergency rescue helicopter requires… requires board-level approval!” I immediately caught the key point. “When were they brought in?” “It was… around 10 AM yesterday morning.” Yesterday morning at 10 AM. It had been a full twenty-four hours. My gaze was sharp as a knife: “The first rule of employee orientation: memorize all license plate numbers and personnel names under the Hart family to ensure immediate rescue operations can begin!” “Twenty-four hours have passed. Why didn’t anyone report this to me?” Director Wilson instinctively looked at Nathan before stammering: “The hospital has already issued three critical condition notices.” “Mr. Cooper said you were about to give birth and shouldn’t be disturbed with such matters.” I turned my head. My gaze stabbed into Nathan like a knife. This was the third catastrophic wrong Nathan had to confess to me. He didn’t just want my child and my assets. He wanted my parents’ lives. “Yes, I admit it.” Meeting my icy gaze, Nathan not only showed no guilt but smiled. “Evelyn, I was doing this for your own good. Look, you’re about to give birth. How could I dare upset you with bad news? What if your emotions affected the baby?” “So you just watched them die?” My voice was hoarse. “Nathan Cooper, you want to wipe out my entire family.”

Seeing that I’d laid it all out, Nathan stopped pretending. “So what if I do?” “I’m now the new director of the company with absolute decision-making power.” He turned to Director Wilson, his tone horrifyingly cold. “I refuse to approve the use of the rescue helicopter.” “There’s no need to waste the company’s precious medical resources on two old people with one foot in the grave.” He looked down at me, his eyes full of vengeful pleasure. “All these years I’ve been like a slave in your Hart family, suffering endless humiliation. I put up with your spoiled princess temper.” “But those two old fools were always guarding against me. Even though you’re their only daughter, they refused to hand over the company and made me some bullshit manager!” “They thought they were so high and mighty, but deep down they just looked down on someone from the bottom like me!” He grew more excited, his face twisted. “But now, isn’t their precious daughter being played by me? Their lives are in my hands too!” “I want to see if you, with your untouchable heiress act, can really stay this calm!” Diana also stepped forward, her face full of malice. “Why should you be born into wealth and luxury? Nathan and I had to endure poverty from childhood? This society is so unfair! But it doesn’t matter—now Nathan has corrected God’s mistake.” She smugly touched her flat stomach. “I can’t be the heir to a fortune. But I can spend the rest of my life as a wealthy wife. From now on, everything you enjoyed will be mine!” Nathan pulled out a document—a Waiver of Parental Rights Agreement. He shoved a pen into my hand. “Sign it.” “Then cooperate with Diana and deliver this baby safely.” “For the sake of our three years of marriage, I’m still willing to pay for that top postpartum care center.” “At least you won’t end up on the streets right after giving birth.” All the nurses and doctors in the hallway looked at me with sympathy. My baby had been switched, my family fortune had been hollowed out, and now even my parents’ lives were in danger. I must be completely broken, ready to kneel and beg them. But I just smiled. “That’s it?” Nathan’s first reaction was to turn to Diana: “Can a mentally unstable pregnant woman still give birth?” Diana frowned too: “If we have to, we’ll do a forced C-section. If she dies, she can only blame her bad luck.” They thought I’d been driven insane. I watched them sing their duet and smiled. “Do you think I’m completely powerless now?” Diana raised an eyebrow mockingly: “Evelyn Hart, stop posturing. You’re facing death and still talking tough!” My gaze was piercing: “I was going to keep it from you forever, but since you’ve confessed everything, I’ll return the favor with three confessions of my own. This is the first!” Before I finished speaking, a man entered holding a document folder. The man handed the documents to me respectfully: “Miss Hart, here are the rush amniocentesis results you requested.” “DNA paternity test shows 99.9% similarity. There is a clear biological mother-child relationship between the fetus and Evelyn Hart!” “Impossible!” Nathan snatched the report, staring at it with wide eyes. Diana leaned over too, the color draining completely from her face. “How is this possible? Nathan, you said…” Nathan screamed hysterically, “When we did IVF, I personally bribed the lab staff! I watched them replace your eggs with Diana’s with my own eyes! How can this child be yours!” Nathan stood frozen as if struck by lightning. I watched his breakdown and dropped another bombshell. “Not only did I use my own eggs, I didn’t even use your sperm.” “What?!”

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I hid the pregnancy test — two clear lines — inside a cake, planning to surprise Ethan on his birthday. Then he suddenly said, “I slept with Natalie.” He pointed at the hot soup I’d just made, his smile cruel: “Last week she fed me from this same bowl. Her tongue was so skilled, I couldn’t hold back. So I fucked her.” Betrayed. Again. I stood there frozen, too numb with pain to make a sound. Ethan just smiled brighter: “I finally understand Lucas now. Natalie really does know how to please a man better than you.” Lucas was my ex-boyfriend. Natalie was my former stepsister. Five years ago, those two drove me to attempt suicide with photos of them in bed together. When I’d lost all hope, Ethan appeared and saved me. But now, he’d betrayed me for the same person. I’d been secretly making prenatal supplements for him, lying that it was just health tonic. He never called me out on it. I thought he didn’t know. After a long silence, I finally found my voice, trembling: “Why?” Why betray me and still let me make medicine for him every day? Ethan looked at me and suddenly laughed loudly: “Claire, you lost.” He pulled out his phone and put it on speaker. Natalie’s voice poured out, sickeningly sweet: “Ethan, did it work?” “It worked. You guessed right — she only asked why.” Ethan leaned back on the sofa, the exact same posture Lucas used five years ago. “Natalie and I made a bet about how you’d react. She bet you’d slap me. I bet you’d just cry.” He paused, smug and vicious: “I won.” Natalie laughed on the other end: “Five years later, and she still just asks ‘why’ when someone fucks her husband.” In a daze, I was back five years ago. That year I came home early to surprise Lucas on his birthday. I pushed open the door to find Natalie straddling Lucas. They didn’t even bother to cover up. Seeing me, Natalie panicked for just a moment. Lucas leaned against the headboard and lit a cigarette: “Claire’s home early. Your sister Natalie just turned eighteen, so I’m breaking her in for you.” I grabbed the vase from the table to throw it, but my wrist went limp like the bones had been pulled out. The vase slipped and shattered at my feet. I only asked why. Natalie shoved her phone in my face. It was full of photos of her and Lucas — the earliest one dated three months before Lucas and I got together. “Claire, you’re the one who stole someone else’s boyfriend.” That night, Natalie sent the photos to all my classmates. My phone rang all night with messages full of abuse. I turned it off and stood on the rooftop until dawn. The next day, Ethan grabbed my hand. The day after that, he was drenched in sweat, like he’d run a long way. He said, don’t die for people who aren’t worth it. Come with me. So I went with him. But five years later, today, the person who pulled me down from that rooftop had personally pushed me back up there. “Alright Natalie, stop provoking her. See you tonight.” Ethan hung up. He grabbed his car keys and headed for the door. As he passed the coffee table, his steps slowed for half a beat. But only half a beat. “I’m picking up Natalie. Move your stuff to the guest room. You don’t have a place here anymore.” The door closed. In the living room, the cake read “Happy 30th Birthday” in frosting I’d spent two hours piping. Next to it, a blue gift box held the photo of the pregnancy test. Two lines. I’d planned to wait until after he blew out the candles to tell him we were having a baby. That baby was four weeks old.

After Ethan left, I stared at the cake for a long time. Then I started packing. ID card, prenatal checkup report, my mother’s photo. I shoved them into my bag, my hands shaking so badly it took three tries to zip it closed. Ethan came back faster than I expected. He looked at the bag in my hand and sneered: “Running away? Where would you even go?” “Divorce.” I used all my strength to say that word. He didn’t answer, just walked over and pulled the bag from my hands. When he found the prenatal report, his hand paused for a moment. Very brief, so brief it seemed like I’d imagined it. Then he threw the bag on the floor. “Divorce?” He looked down at me like he’d heard a joke. “Claire, if you’d chosen me first, I probably would have treasured you for life.” His tone was flat, like he was talking about someone else. “But who did you choose? You chose Lucas.” “When you were with him, you could kneel in the rain all night. You could fight and make up laughing the next day.” “What about with me?” “You speak quietly, walk around me carefully, don’t even dare make prenatal supplements in front of me.” “Claire, who are you living with? You’re living with a stranger.” “You think that’s love?” Ethan lowered his head, almost touching my face: “That’s charity.” “Was saving me charity too?” I raised my head. “Five years ago you grabbed me on that rooftop and said you’d be good to me forever. Was that pity too?” His expression flickered, then hardened. “Yes. That was pity.” He stepped back, his eyes full of gloom. “The pot you used to make prenatal supplements — it’s the same one you used to make soup for Lucas. You forgot, didn’t you? Natalie remembers.” That was the only thing my mother left behind. When I moved, I only brought that pot. I used it for Lucas because it was all I had. I used it for Ethan for the same reason. “It’s not the same… that was my mom’s…” “Enough.” Ethan pulled open the front door. Outside, a storm was starting. He grabbed my arm and pushed me out. As I passed the shoe cabinet, my shin hit the corner and I bent over in pain. “Ethan, I’m pregnant.” The moment those words left my mouth, his hand did pause for a moment. One second. Then the door closed behind me. I pounded on the door a few times. No one answered. I heard the lock turn from inside. My phone buzzed. All my bank accounts were frozen. Outside the door was the yard. Rain pounded against my body, soaking through my pajamas until they stuck to my skin. I don’t know how long it was before a cramping pain shot through my lower abdomen. A dark stain spread across my pajama pants. I couldn’t lose this baby. I bent over, supporting myself against the wall, moving step by step back toward the door. The spare key under the flowerpot should still be there.

When I pushed open the door, the entryway light was on. From the yard to the door was only twenty steps. It took me ten minutes. With every step, the blood between my legs increased. As I crouched down to reach for the spare key, my vision went dark. A pair of red-soled high heels appeared on the ground, pointed toward the door. In the living room, Natalie was wearing my pajamas, sitting cross-legged next to Ethan. On the coffee table sat half a glass of red wine and a pregnancy test broken in two. The two lines were still clearly visible. The cake I’d made was half-eaten, the fork still stuck in it. The candles were broken, thrown in the ashtray. The family photo on the cabinet was face down, the frame turned over. Natalie saw me come in and laughed behind her hand: “Claire’s back? I thought you’d left. Ethan said you’re really good at running away.” I ignored her, my gaze fixed on the broken pregnancy test. I’d hidden that in a secret compartment in the closet. Natalie followed my line of sight and tilted her head: “Oh that? I accidentally broke it when I was changing clothes.” She turned to Ethan, eyes wide: “Ethan, Claire’s not really pregnant, is she?” Ethan leaned back on the sofa, not looking at me. Frosting from the cake was smeared at the corner of his mouth. “I told you not to touch her things.” His tone didn’t sound protective, more annoyed. “It doesn’t matter if she is.” Natalie smiled and rubbed her flat stomach. “The only children in this house will be mine and Ethan’s anyway.” She stood up and walked toward me, stopping half a step away, looking down at my legs. The dark stain spreading across my pants had been scattered by the rain, but the traces were clear. “Claire, you’re bleeding.” Her voice was soft. I bent over and retched violently. Nothing came out except acid and bitterness — the taste of prenatal medicine. Natalie stepped back, her face wrinkled with disgust. There was a sound from the sofa. Ethan stood up and took half a step toward me. Then stopped. Natalie grabbed his arm: “Ethan, she’s so filthy.” Ethan looked down at me, his lips moved, but no sound came out. I knelt on the floor and wiped my mouth. As I stood up, he spoke. “You think we’re disgusting?” His voice was cold. “Then tonight you can listen carefully to who’s really disgusting.” He pulled Natalie toward the stairs. As they passed, Natalie stepped on the broken pregnancy test. As she went upstairs, she laughed: “Ethan, let’s sleep in her bed tonight, okay?” Ethan didn’t refuse. The master bedroom door closed. I knelt in the living room, vomit in front of me, rain and blood on my body, the pregnancy test crushed to pieces before me. The first laugh came from upstairs. Then footsteps. Ethan came back downstairs and grabbed me by the collar, hauling me up. “Since you like kneeling so much, come kneel and listen upstairs.”

As Ethan dragged me upstairs, my knees knocked against every step with a sound. Passing the master bedroom, his steps paused. Then he kicked open the storage room door next to it and shoved me inside. “Ethan –” I reached out to stop him. The door closed. The lock turned. The storage room was small, filled with a few dusty cardboard boxes and a folding chair. No light. The only source was a half-open window in the corner, moonlight streaming in, illuminating floating dust. Through the wall, Natalie’s voice came first: “Ethan, is she right next door?” Ethan’s voice came through muffled: “Don’t worry about her.” Natalie laughed: “Good. Let her listen carefully to who really knows how to please you.” I hit the wall a few times. Next door went quiet for a second or two. Then Natalie laughed: “Ethan, Claire’s keeping time for us.” I covered my ears. But the sounds still leaked through. Laughter, gasping, the dull sound of the bed frame being pressed. Ethan’s hands that once put fever patches on me were now touching someone else through the wall. He who once told me “don’t die for people who aren’t worth it” was now calling another woman’s name. The cramping in my lower abdomen grew stronger with each wave. I curled up in the corner, hand pressed to my stomach, the sticky area under my clothes still spreading. I searched my pockets and only found a crumpled prenatal report. Ethan had pulled it from my bag and thrown it on the ground. I’d picked it up again when I left. I couldn’t make out the words in the darkness. But that line — “intrauterine early pregnancy, approximately four weeks” — I’d already memorized. Four weeks. That’s when the heart just starts to beat. Next door went quiet for a while. Then Natalie’s voice came lazily, like she was deliberately speaking for me to hear: “Ethan, after this is over, should I have your baby?” “Mm.” “Let’s clean out that storage room next door for a nursery.” “Okay.” “What about Claire?” “She can stay if she wants. If she can’t take it, she can leave on her own.” Natalie laughed: “You’re so good to me, Ethan.” Next door went silent again. I released my hand. My fingertips were covered in sweat. My lower abdomen didn’t hurt as much anymore. Looking down at the dark stain on my pants, I couldn’t tell if it was red or black in the moonlight, but the area had grown larger than before. The baby might already be gone. I turned my head toward the window. It was raining outside, hitting the windowsill, a few drops splashing in and landing on the back of my hand. Cold. Just as cold as standing on that rooftop five years ago. That time Ethan had grabbed my hand. I looked at the tightly closed door. No footsteps behind it. No one was coming. I braced myself against the wall and stood up, something warm trickling down my knee. Three floors outside the window. Not very high. But enough. I climbed onto the windowsill. Rain hit my face. Next door came Natalie’s blurred sleep talk, Ethan’s even breathing coming through the wall. They were both asleep. I could sleep forever too…

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In my fifth year with Luca Greene, his book became a hit. I thought I’d finally weathered the storm and could enter marriage with him. But the night before we were supposed to register our marriage, Luca confessed to me. “The prototype for this book is my first love, Zoe.” “I didn’t want her to suffer with me, so I convinced her to study abroad. Then I felt lonely and chose you as a substitute since you looked eighty percent like her.” My hand froze while ironing a shirt. I looked at Luca in disbelief, my voice trembling. “Why are you telling me this now?” Luca smiled, acting like nothing was wrong. “I’ve treated you well these past years. Zoe is different—she’s suffered so much abroad.” “As compensation and to make up for her regrets, I registered our marriage with her yesterday. But don’t worry, I’ll definitely marry you in a year.” Luca spoke seriously, but he’d forgotten—I have a thing about cleanliness. In life, and in relationships too. I couldn’t snap out of it for a long time. I didn’t even notice when my arm got burned and the skin peeled off. Instead, Luca frowned, pulled me to sit on the sofa, and applied medicine to my wound. His tone was full of concern, as if the conversation we’d just had was an illusion. “How can you be so careless? You burned yourself just ironing a shirt.” I’d gotten hurt often over these five years. Luca had done this many times. Each time, my heart would warm. But this time, I couldn’t help wanting to cry. I clenched my teeth to keep the tears from falling, but my voice still carried a sob. “Luca, doesn’t it disgust you to spend five years facing a fake?” Luca’s face darkened. “Riley, don’t talk about yourself like that.” He was too calm. I couldn’t hold back and threw the medicine box, screaming. “Isn’t it you who made me like this?!” My chest heaved continuously. Luca sighed, picked up the scattered medicine from the floor, and spoke softly. “I know this is hard for you to accept right now, but we’ve been together for five years. There’s no need to deny everything over this little thing.” As he spoke, Luca patted my head. I felt dazed, as if transported back to the day he confessed to me. Back then, my mom had been hospitalized with a heart attack. To make money, I went to work selling drinks at a bar. Once, by accident, I spilled drinks all over the floor and dirtied a customer’s shoes. The people with him started jeering. “Those shoes cost a million. Is the pretty lady going to pay up, or sleep with our buddy William for a few nights?” “I recommend the latter—better deal, haha!” “Right, William’s not bad-looking either.” I backed away in fear. That’s when Luca appeared. Seeing me, he froze for a moment, then helped me out. “Didn’t you say we were celebrating my birthday? Let’s go inside. Stop giving the poor girl a hard time.” He was William’s childhood friend. Even though he’d broken ties with the Greene family to pursue his writing dream, no one dared say anything. The group left. Soon after, someone brought me a Band-Aid. It was arranged by Luca. After that, I kept running into Luca at the bar. He’d keep an eye on where I was, have his friends buy drinks from me. Even when customers took their frustrations out on me, he’d shield me with his body. He got a broken rib protecting me. I cried my eyes out. “Why are you so good to me? How am I supposed to repay you?!” Luca tucked my tear-soaked hair behind my ear and said with a smile. “If you don’t know how to repay me, how about you give yourself to me?” I stood there stunned. Luca’s expression turned serious. “Riley, I’m being serious.” “Will you be my girlfriend?” It would be a lie to say I wasn’t moved. So much so that all these years, I’d thought Luca was heaven’s gift to me. I never imagined it was all a scam from the very beginning. Tears spilled from the corners of my eyes against my will. I turned my head away, refusing to look at him, but my voice was exceptionally firm. “Luca, let’s break up.”

The moment the words left my mouth, Luca’s phone rang. He glanced at it, his tone casual, as if he didn’t care at all. “I’ll just assume you’re upset and saying things you don’t mean. As long as you behave this year, you’ll get everything that’s supposed to be yours.” “I’m going to Zoe’s welcome back party first. Stay home and think it over.” The instant the door closed, my emotions collapsed. I smashed the only photo of Luca and me together. My suddenly bright phone screen caught my attention. It was a link from my best friend. Luca’s book had become popular, and he’d been exposed to the public along with it. These past few days, she’d sent me plenty of videos related to Luca. But this time, seeing the text she sent, I froze for a long moment. \[Your early photos with Luca have been dug up.\] In truth, Luca had never publicly acknowledged my existence. Every time I brought it up, Luca would use the excuse that he didn’t want his private life to receive too much attention. So I’d followed Luca for five years without any recognition or status. Even though I already had a suspicion in my heart, when I clicked the link, my heart felt like it had been pricked by a needle. In the link was a screenshot from a five-year-old street view map. The subjects in the image were Luca and “me.” Same height, similar build from behind. If I hadn’t learned the truth about being a substitute today. I might have thought I’d lost a chunk of my memory. But Luca would never crouch down to tie my shoelaces. In the five years we’d been together, Luca and I had done everything couples do. Everything except him bending down to tie my shoes. I couldn’t count how many times I’d wanted Luca to help me tie them. But every single time, it ended in vain. Even when my stomach hurt so badly my face turned pale, Luca remained unmoved by my request to tie my shoes. What I got was impatience. “I don’t like tying people’s shoelaces. Can you stop forcing me?” I remember that day—I cried like a child. Later, Luca coaxed me for a long time. I thought I’d forgotten. I didn’t expect that three years later, this memory would still be so clear. So clear that seeing this scene made my eyes involuntarily sting with tears. So it wasn’t that he didn’t like it—it was just that the person wasn’t me.

I don’t know how long I stared at that photo. Long enough that Luca came in with a “drunk” Zoe Adams, and only then did I snap back to reality. Seeing I was still awake, Luca paused, then explained. “Zoe got drunk. She lives alone with no one to take care of her.” I should have cried. I should have made a scene. But I knew clearly it wouldn’t help. Luca didn’t love me. With that thought, I stepped aside to let Luca pass. Luca raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Good that you’ve thought it through. I haven’t treated you badly.” “Besides, without me, you can’t afford your mom’s medical bills at all.” I didn’t respond, just let Luca carry Zoe upstairs and completely ignored the provocative look Zoe shot me. But when I returned to the bedroom and saw the pajamas Zoe was wearing, I lost all reason. I rushed forward, trying to pull the clothes off her. The moment I touched Zoe, she screamed, “Ah! You’re hurting me!” The next second, Luca emerged from the bathroom and shoved me away. The force was too strong. I crashed into the corner of a table. In my ear was Luca’s interrogation. “Riley, have you lost your mind?” I shakily got up, for once talking back. “Shouldn’t that question be directed at you?” “You know perfectly well this pajama set was handmade by my mom. She’s being kept alive by medical equipment right now. How could you let another woman wear it?!” Luca’s movements froze, as if he’d finally realized. But he didn’t back down. He shielded Zoe behind him and said in a deep voice, “Even so, you shouldn’t have gotten physical! Apologize to Zoe!” My voice choked. “She’s the one who did wrong. Why should I apologize?” Luca laughed coldly. “Fine. Keep acting tough if you’ve got the guts. Just don’t regret it!” With that, he turned to look at Zoe, his voice carrying a tenderness he’d never shown me. “Change back into your own clothes. I’ll take you to the hospital.” Zoe nodded, giving me a provocative look before leaving. I hadn’t wanted to cry. But the contrast was too great. The grievance pressed down on me until I couldn’t breathe. Blood from the wound on my forehead slid down my cheek. My phone lit up with a familiar message. —\[My promise to repay you still stands. As long as you’re willing, I’ll marry you.\] I’d refused countless times before, but I didn’t want to wait for Luca anymore. I’d waited five years for him. How many five-year spans does a person get in one lifetime? I finally made up my mind to reply. —\[I’ll marry you. Start preparing.\]

But I never imagined Luca’s punishment would come so quickly. The next day when I went downstairs, I was tied to a chair by two bodyguards. Placed in front of me were countless bottles of alcohol. My heart tightened as I looked at Luca sitting on the sofa. “What are you doing?” Luca smiled and pointed at Zoe nearby. “I told you—if you’ve got the guts, keep acting tough.” The punishment for not apologizing. Realizing this, my mind exploded with a roar, as if something had detonated inside. I shook my head frantically. “Luca, you can’t do this to me. I can’t drink alcohol!” Hesitation flashed in Luca’s eyes. Zoe saw it. She looked at Luca with reddened eyes. “If she doesn’t want to apologize, forget it. I’m fine.” Luca frowned slightly. “I promised I wouldn’t let you suffer any grievances.” With that, Luca looked at me again. He smiled. “Didn’t you used to sell drinks at a bar? How could you not be able to drink?” “Since you won’t apologize, you’ll just have to take your punishment.” My heart went cold. It seemed Luca had truly forgotten—my stomach was ruined from drinking for him. Back then, the Greene family sent people to the bar to make things difficult for him. Knowing he was allergic to alcohol, they still made him drink ten bottles of liquor before he could leave. I drank bottle after bottle for him. By the end, I lost consciousness and was rushed to the hospital. When I woke up, Luca was keeping watch beside me. He held my hand, saying sorry over and over. “The doctor said your stomach can never handle alcohol again. Let’s quit this job, okay?” “From now on, I’ll support you and take good care of your stomach.” Luca spoke with such devotion. I was happy he could keep doing what he loved. Time passed. It had only been four years, and Luca had forgotten. I suddenly felt sorry for my past self. The bodyguard’s action of forcing alcohol down my throat pulled me back to the present. I struggled, but no matter how much I resisted, the alcohol still went down my throat. It made me cough violently. Luca’s hands, hanging at his sides, clenched tight. He reminded me, “As long as you apologize to Zoe, I’m not unwilling to let you off.”

I didn’t back down. I forced myself to speak. “What did I do wrong?” “You’re the one who’s wrong! You two are wrong!” Seeing I still wouldn’t give in, Luca waved his hand to continue. The alcohol entered my stomach, bringing a burning pain. I bit down hard, refusing to make a sound. But the next second, my phone rang. It was the caregiver calling. The caregiver never called me without reason. Every time, it was because my mom had been sent into the operating room. At this thought, panic seized me. I sobbed and shouted, “Luca, I apologize! I was wrong!” “I was wrong. I’ll never lay a hand on Zoe again. Let me go.” Luca looked somewhat surprised, but he still sneered. “Riley, an apology needs sincerity. I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.” The bodyguard perceptively released me. I couldn’t care about anything else. I dropped to my knees and slid toward Zoe. With a look of surprise on her face, I bowed my head repeatedly. “Zoe, I was wrong. I shouldn’t have laid hands on you.” “I’m begging for your forgiveness. I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” I prostrated myself again and again, but Luca never relented. “I told you—as long as you behave, I’ll give you whatever you want.” “I’ll let it go this time. Be good from now on.” But I couldn’t care about Luca. I pushed him away and stumbled outside. Luca chased after me, his voice panicked. “Riley, where are you going?!” I didn’t respond. I flagged down a car and headed to the hospital. The whole way, I kept praying. I reached the operating room just as the doors opened. The doctor looked at me and shook his head, giving a different result for the first time. “I’m sorry. We did everything we could.” I collapsed to the floor, my mind buzzing. Luca, who’d chased after me, also heard those words. His face instantly turned deathly pale. Realizing what he’d just done, Luca panicked. He stepped forward, wanting to say something. A fist suddenly came down. “Get away from her! Don’t touch her!”

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After discovering my CEO husband can’t let go of his divorced single-mother ex, I started teaching our son to call him “uncle.” When our son had a fever and his ex called him away in the middle of the night, I touched our son’s burning forehead and had him say “goodbye, uncle.” When he promised to attend our son’s parent-teacher conference but his ex called crying about how her son had no father to accompany him, my husband left without a second thought. I didn’t even look up. I handed our son my phone and had him send the teacher an excuse email on behalf of “uncle.” Every time, our son hesitated for so long. Until later, when my husband finally realized what he owed us. He took the initiative to suggest we take family photos together. At the entrance of the photo studio, the ex called again, sobbing on the phone: “Evan, can you come pick up Tanner from kindergarten right now? The other kids are making fun of him for not having a dad…” Reluctance flashed across my husband’s face. He was about to crouch down and explain to our son. This time, without any prompting from me, our son waved him away. “It’s okay, uncle. You go be with your other kid. Mom and I are enough for a family photo.”

The moment our son said those words, both Evan Harrison and I froze. During the 28 days since I discovered Evan’s heart wasn’t with our family anymore, every time he abandoned me and our son because of Vivian White, I would have our son call him “uncle.” To remind both myself and our son not to be hurt by someone who wasn’t worth it. But our son didn’t see it that way. He was only seven years old, at the age when he needed his father most. Every time I asked him to say “uncle,” he would hesitate for a long time before quietly calling out the word. But today, he said it on his own. He said it smoothly and naturally, as if he’d rehearsed the word countless times in his heart. Seeing us both stunned, our son took my hand and said to Evan: “Uncle, you go ahead.” Then he looked at me. “Mom, let’s go. We’re going to be late for our appointment.” He pulled me along, step by step toward the photo studio. The family photo session was something Evan had suggested to make up for missing our son’s school event. Our son had been looking forward to it for half a month. I stiffly followed him, my heart feeling like it was being crushed by a stone, the suffocating pressure making me want to cry. I discovered Evan’s affair by accident. He went to celebrate Vivian’s child’s birthday, and when he came back, he forgot about the tickets in his pocket. Three tickets to Universal Studios. For our son’s sixth birthday, he wished for the whole family to go to Universal Studios together to see his favorite Minions. Evan thought it was childish and rejected the idea without hesitation. A few days later, though, he went with Vivian’s child. I found Vivian’s Instagram post on Evan’s phone. [The most magical place should be visited with the best dad.] The photo showed Evan and Vivian holding a child—a picture of the three of them together. Vivian was his first love, divorced with a child. That night, we had our most explosive fight. I insisted on divorce and taking our child with me. Evan accused me of being unreasonable. He asked how I could bear to let our child grow up without a father. He swore to God that he only felt sympathy for Vivian. Looking at our son’s obviously frightened face, I bit my lip until it nearly bled. I knew that if I forced our son to leave with me, he would never forget Evan. But I also knew that if it happened once, it would happen a second time, a third time. I didn’t want my child to suffer because of his so-called sympathy. So I chose another approach—I tricked Evan into signing divorce papers. Thirty days until the divorce became official. During those 30 days, if Evan came to his senses, I would pretend nothing had happened for our son’s sake. If not, I would spend those 30 days doing everything I could to help our son become “desensitized.” Today was day 28. Our son had called Evan “uncle” on his own. I felt our son’s slightly trembling body, but I wasn’t happy. It felt like a thousand needles piercing my heart. As we crossed the street, Evan finally snapped out of it. He took a few steps after us, wanting to ask our son what was going on, when Vivian called again, still with that delicate sobbing voice: “Evan, where are you? Tanner keeps crying and saying he wants his daddy. I can’t calm him down.” Evan’s steps halted. He stared at our backs, phone in hand, and replied: “Okay, I know. I’ll be right there.” After hanging up, he sent me a text saying “Let’s talk tonight,” then turned and left without hesitation. The roar of a car engine started up, then faded into the distance. Our son stopped walking and buried himself in my arms, his tears soaking my clothes. “Mom.” “Can we not have Dad anymore?”

We didn’t take the photos. I took our son straight home. I started packing. While I was booking plane tickets back to my hometown, Vivian sent me a video. The setting was another well-known photo studio in the city. Vivian and Evan were wearing matching outfits, holding a child around five years old, posing for the camera. At the end of the video, Vivian taunted me as usual. “It’s just a family photo. Evan and I can take one anytime.” If this had been before, seeing Vivian’s provocation, I definitely would have snapped back immediately. But now, watching our son carefully organizing his toys, I only had one thought: how pointless. I exited the chat and booked two tickets to Seattle for the day after tomorrow. Just after I paid, Evan came home, carrying a strawberry cake. Both our son and I stared in surprise. In the past, he hated strawberry cake the most. Because of this, even though our son inherited my crazy love for strawberries, he would only choose Evan’s favorite matcha mousse for his birthday. But today, why did he suddenly bring home a strawberry cake? Our son and I looked at each other, both finding it unbelievable. Evan slowly walked in and saw the open luggage. His expression changed slightly. “Tanner was crying so hard, I stayed with him a bit longer. On my way back, I remembered you both love strawberry cake, so I bought one.” “Why are you packing? Are you going on a trip?” I shook my head, then nodded. “I guess so.” With only two days left until the divorce became official, I didn’t want any unexpected complications. Hearing my words, Evan seemed to breathe a sigh of relief before continuing: “The photo studio called me and said you didn’t show up. I rescheduled. How about tomorrow?” “I absolutely won’t bail this time.” He crouched in front of our son and said it very seriously. Our son paused while organizing his toys, looked at him, then at me. As if he was torn, or as if he didn’t dare believe anymore. I noticed our son wavering, and my heart softened. “Okay.” It was only going to be the last time anyway. After I agreed, our son’s eyes immediately lit up. He grabbed his toys and ran into his room. After he left, I continued packing. Evan came over to me. He struggled before speaking: “By the way, about our son calling me uncle today…”

My heart skipped a beat. I looked up at him. Evan crouched down, placing the strawberry cake beside me. His voice was helpless but affectionate: “Zoe, I know what you’re thinking. You think I’m too nice to Vivian and that I’ve been neglecting you and our son.” “But I swear, I only feel sympathy for Vivian. She’s a single mom—I just don’t want her to suffer too much.” He took my hand and placed it solemnly over his heart. “Give me a little more time. I promise I’ll handle things with Vivian and her son properly. I won’t let you and our son be wronged.” I stared at him blankly. I could barely remember the last time he looked at me so seriously. Maybe it was at our wedding. In the pristine chapel, he held my hand and vowed to treat me well for the rest of his life. Or maybe it was the day our son was born. In the hospital delivery room, he carefully held our son in his arms and trembled as he kissed my forehead. Then he said: “Zoe, I will never let you or our son suffer any injustice.” Thinking about those past moments, I was silent for a long time. Finally, I decided to tell him about the divorce. “Evan, actually…” “Oh, where did you put that limited-edition LEGO set I bought for our son last time? Is it in the study cabinet? Vivian says Tanner’s really into LEGO lately. I’ll take it over for him to play with for a few days.” After speaking, Evan went to the study, found the LEGO set, grabbed his car keys, and hurried out the door. “Bang”—the door closed. Evan’s figure disappeared. I stared quietly at the door for a long time. Then I finished the sentence I hadn’t completed. “Actually, our son and I don’t need you anymore.” Only two days left until we left.

At midnight, after finally finishing all the packing, I lay exhausted in bed. My phone lit up. It was a message from Evan. [Tanner really loved the LEGO. I spent the whole evening helping him build it. Vivian specifically asked me to thank you.] At midnight, my husband was thanking me on behalf of another woman. I pulled at the corner of my mouth, too speechless to even laugh. But I was too tired to be angry. The outcome was already decided anyway. I opened the chat and casually replied: [No need to thank me. I didn’t give it to her.] [Also, that LEGO was our son’s favorite birthday present. He’s been waiting for you to have time to build it with him.] After sending that message, I turned off my phone and closed my eyes to sleep. I didn’t care about Evan on the other end, whose expression changed when he saw the message. The next morning at eight, Evan came home unusually early. He took off his coat as he entered and saw several neatly arranged suitcases in the living room. He froze in place. “Do you need to pack this much for a trip?” Without even putting down his coat, he walked to the bedroom with visible panic and asked me. I was helping our son get dressed and didn’t look back. “We’re going far.” Upon hearing this, he immediately looked at our son. Only after receiving a confirming nod did his expression relax. Then he put his coat aside and took out three Universal Studios tickets. “Haven’t you been upset that I didn’t take our son to Universal Studios?” “I bought tickets for today. The three of us can go together.” He displayed the tickets in front of me and our son like he was showing off, his face full of indulgence. For a moment, I wondered if I’d misheard something. It had been almost a month since that incident, and he was only thinking of it now? But then I thought of the string of unread messages on my phone when I woke up this morning, and I suddenly understood. So it was compensation. I didn’t say anything and continued focusing on dressing our son. But our son was incredibly excited, his eyes blinking as he stared at me. “Mom, I want to go!” My eyes curved into a smile. Before I could speak, I heard Evan stammer: “But if you want to go, there’s one condition. Vivian found out we’re taking family photos today, and she’s worried Tanner will be upset if he hears about it, so… the family photo thing… let’s do it another time.” As he said this, his expression was full of guilt. Our son froze. The smile in his eyes visibly receded bit by bit. “I see…” He slowly lowered his head and said nothing more. His eyes turned red. But Evan didn’t notice. He continued: “It’s just this one small request from Vivian. I thought about it, and it shouldn’t be a big deal.” “We’re just postponing the photos this time. There’s always next time.” “Leo, what do you say?” He didn’t know that our son and I would be leaving tomorrow. This was his last chance. But neither our son nor I said anything. We just nodded silently. “Fine.” “Okay.” Evan breathed a sigh of relief, his face visibly showing a smile, as if a weight had been lifted. “Then I’ll tell Vivian right now. Three o’clock this afternoon, meet at Universal Studios.” After speaking, he got up to leave. When he reached the door, he turned around. “Honey, Leo, you’re both so wonderful.” Our son and I didn’t say anything. After he left, our son jumped down from the bed and took out a backpack he’d prepared from the closet. “Mom, I don’t want to see uncle anymore. Can we leave early?”

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After my car accident, the brother who always hated me came to visit. His eyes were cold as he asked, “Do you remember who I am?” I didn’t have amnesia, but I lied to him anyway. “I remember. You’re my husband, aren’t you?” His dark eyes shifted away. After a few seconds, he replied almost inaudibly, “Yeah.” 01 Today was my birthday. But the first thing my brother said when he saw me was, “What are you pretending for?” When I didn’t answer, he kicked my hospital bed. “Speak. What kind of trick is this now?” He had blocked me. If the hospital hadn’t called him, he wouldn’t be here. Outside, a nurse called out to him. “Family member, please sign here.” He was broad-shouldered with a sharp jawline, looking striking as he stood by the door. The police arrived. “Are you Ryan Carter?” He paused, pen in hand, and nodded. The police explained the cause of the accident. Some thugs Ryan had crossed paths with heard he had a girlfriend he treasured. They wanted to kidnap her for revenge. “Your sister and your girlfriend look too much alike.” The police said they got the wrong person. While fleeing with a sprained ankle, I was hit by a car. That’s how I ended up in the hospital. Ryan’s pen hovered in the air. He didn’t move for a long time. “Is it really that serious?” he asked. “They had knives. “Any slower, and you’d be signing for a body in the morgue. “She had a severe head injury when she was brought in,” the nurse asked him. “Why wasn’t your phone connecting?” He was with his girlfriend, Chloe. Today was their one-year anniversary. Chloe had purposely chosen my birthday to get together with him. Just so that, year after year on my birthday, Ryan would only be with her, not me. Back then, Chloe stood at my bedroom door wearing his shirt and asked me: “Did you know, Mia? “Everything he wouldn’t do with you, he did with me.” Ryan signed the papers. He sat by my bed, silent. I reached out for a drink of water. He grabbed my arm and pushed my sleeve up. Shocking, dark bruises and scabs, varying in depth, were exposed. He stared at them intently. Almost instinctively, he started unbuttoning my hospital gown. The red marks spreading from my collarbone. I clutched the fabric at my chest to stop him from going further. His gaze paused on my bra strap. Only then did he calm down. He let go, sat back in his chair, and stared darkly at my rumpled collar. “Where else?” I shook my head. His phone rang. It was Chloe. He glanced at it, then silenced it. He got up and went outside to call her back. He couldn’t bear to ignore her call; he couldn’t let her suffer even the slightest grievance. Through the glass, I watched the annoyance on his face gradually smooth out. He said, “I’ll be back soon.” He was still going back to her, even though I was lying in a hospital bed. With no one to care for me. Ryan returned to the room. His eyes were cold as he asked, “Do you remember who I am?” I didn’t have amnesia, but I lied to him anyway. “I remember. You’re my husband, aren’t you?” A dead silence filled the room. His dark eyes shifted away. After a few seconds, he replied almost inaudibly, “Yeah.” It wasn’t that I loved him to death. I was disgusted by him. In two weeks, I would completely leave this place. Right when he was most invested. I would vanish from the face of the earth. And he had no idea. 02 Ryan and I were from a blended family. He and his mom moved into the house I shared with my dad. A massive fire. It blackened the afternoon of July 24th. The teacher sent us both home. My dad died on the spot. His mom held on in the hospital until winter, draining all the money we had. Before she passed, she held Ryan’s hand and made him swear. “You must protect your sister and be good to her.” “I swear,” he said. When we returned to school, we only had each other. He had perfect scores in math. He topped the class for three years in middle school, but then he changed. He started skipping class. He’d vanish into internet cafes, impossible to find. When the principal came for a home visit, he only found me gnawing on stale bread, unable to even offer a cup of hot water. “I’m sorry, Mr. Davis. I couldn’t pay the gas bill.” Mr. Davis opened his wallet and left several crisp bills on the coffee table. He never visited again. The next year, I got into a top high school but couldn’t afford the tuition. Relatives urged me to drop out and work in a factory. “What’s the point of a girl studying so much?” Ryan kicked the door open and coldly chased them away. He had been constantly playing games for others online, working all night to make money. He was so thin and pale. He gave all the money to me. He said he would make money to support me. “You keep studying. Go as far as you can.” I lived in the dorms during high school and rarely saw him. But rumors about him were everywhere. He grew more attractive as he got older. Tall, smoking, fighting, with a cold, rebellious vibe. I heard many girls chased after him, but he never cared. Our only interaction was my meal card. Topped up right on time every month. One Friday night during sophomore year, a senior who was pursuing me followed me all the way to my front door. He bumped into Ryan, who was taking out his keys to unlock the door. Ryan had a cut on his brow, smoke rings curling around his lazy eyes, shrouded in mist. The senior froze. Ryan reached out, hooked his arm around my neck, opened the door, and closed it. Without a single word, he left the guy outside. “Ryan.” I turned around, wanting to explain. He pointed at the table. A cake. Stars hanging from the curtains. He had fixed the camcorder my dad left me, which had a video of my dad singing me happy birthday. “Ryan,” I asked him, “will you always celebrate my birthday with me?” He rested his forehead against mine. “Duh.” He chuckled softly, “If not me, who else do you want to celebrate it with?” After that, he waited for me at the school gate every Friday. In the sea of people, he could always spot me instantly. This continued until right before summer vacation, when I borrowed his computer for research. I saw a chat window he hadn’t closed. His friend asked him: [You’re not even going to LA for the tournament? [Do you really want to be dragged down by her your whole life? [You’re not even blood-related, you’ll separate eventually.] He only replied with one sentence. [Yeah, waiting until she graduates.] I only had him. Driven by some inexplicable impulse, I clicked on the search bar and typed: [Is it illegal to marry a stepbrother with no blood relation?] Hundreds of pages of results. I was so engrossed I didn’t realize Ryan had entered the room and was standing behind me. I looked at the webpage. He looked at me. Neither of us said a word. When I realized it, I slammed the laptop shut, so tense and ashamed I couldn’t speak. He grabbed his jacket that night and left. He didn’t come back all night. He didn’t come back for the entire summer I was home. Until I needed to pay for my prep classes. He paid for them. Hands in his pockets, wearing a black hoodie, he waited for me at the end of the alley after class. Drawing the attention of many girls. As soon as I arrived, he saw me. This was where we met Chloe. Wearing a white dress, a face as small as a palm, delicate features. Tears in her eyes, she bypassed me and gently tugged at Ryan’s shirt. “Ryan.” She asked him. “Can I walk with you guys for a bit?” Someone was following her. At that moment, Ryan just looked at her. Just a brief glance. So brief, yet my premonition beat as strongly as my heart. He couldn’t refuse Chloe. 03 Chloe had dropped out of school a long time ago. She lived with her grandmother, who had passed away a few months prior. Ryan was also raised by his grandmother when he was little. We walked her all the way to her door. Only to find out the landlord had changed the locks because she was behind on rent. She looked at Ryan, helpless and frantic. Ryan didn’t say anything. But he brought her home. Our apartment only had two bedrooms: mine and Ryan’s. Chloe looked at me, then peeked into my room. She wanted to share a room with me. “You take the couch,” Ryan threw a blanket at her. “Don’t bother my sister, she has exams. You’re leaving tomorrow.” She obediently curled up on the couch. Wrapped in the blanket, a small ball, coughing all night. In the morning, she made a whole table of food for Ryan. She didn’t say a word, didn’t fight for anything. And left on her own. Ryan didn’t ask her to stay. He stood outside the door watching her go. The early winter wind scattered the smoke from his cigarette. The next day, I went back to school. When the following Friday rolled around, I was glad class didn’t run late. Full of anticipation, I squeezed through the crowd, looking for Ryan at the school gate. He was still there. I waved at him, then saw Chloe standing next to him. They came together. Chloe was afraid of the cold and was even wearing Ryan’s jacket. In less than a week. My room was adorned with Chloe’s pink bead curtains, and her makeup crowded my things off the desk. Her clothes were piled on my messy bed. “You’re rarely home,” she explained. “I’m just crashing here for a bit. You don’t mind, right?” I walked in. And yanked her curtain down. Along with all her stuff, I threw it all out the door. “Who said you could touch my things?” She crouched down, her eyes red as she looked at the curtain. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Mia, I made this for you myself. It’s all my fault.” Ryan leaned against the wall, his eyes cold. “It is her room,” he told Chloe. “You sleep on the couch.” Chloe was very obedient. Before going to sleep, she apologized to me again and again in front of Ryan. She curled up on the couch. Whenever the wind rattled Ryan’s door, she would cough. It made your heart clench. In the middle of the night. I was woken up by her faint breathing. She was standing outside my door, saying to Ryan, “The living room window is drafty. Can I sleep on your floor?” The wind kept blowing the door open and shut. I knew he let her in. The next morning, as dawn was just breaking. Neither of them was awake yet. I braved the biting wind and went back to school. 04 A lot of guys chased Chloe; she was very likable. Ryan knew that too. Because of this, he got into quite a few fights for her. Starting my senior year, I barely went home. When it was time to pay tuition, I used the money I had earned from working. “Here, paying you back.” I went to the internet cafe and found Ryan. I returned the tuition money he had paid for me. At the time, he was running a fever from a recent fight, but was still playing games for clients. “What, my money isn’t good enough for you?” The corners of his eyes and brows looked increasingly decadent and feral. His words were ice cold. “I saved up enough myself. Take care of your injuries and stop fighting—” “None of your business.” He impatiently snatched the money and threw it on the desk. “I can’t even get you to live at home, and you want to tell me what to do?” He knew exactly why I didn’t want to go home. He said if I didn’t want his money, plenty of others did. He used the tuition money to buy Chloe a dress that cost over a thousand dollars. Winter break during senior year was very short. I only stayed home for a week. But Chloe couldn’t even tolerate me for that one week. Her tactics weren’t very sophisticated. She claimed I took her dress. I scoffed and immediately tore my room apart. “Open your damn eyes and look. Where is your dress?” Ryan walked in just as I said that. He looked at me flatly. Like I was a stranger. “Give it back to her.” “I didn’t take it.” I was desperate, my mind racing for any way to prove my innocence. But I met the eyes of Chloe standing behind him. Why did I have to prove myself, but she didn’t? A sour ache welled up in my throat. The dress was eventually found in the dumpster downstairs, cut to shreds. Ryan demanded I apologize. I refused. I confronted him: “You believe her, but not me?” Chloe pulled his arm: “Forget it, it’s fine.” Ryan picked up the seashell keychain on my desk to threaten me. We made it together the first time our whole family went to the beach. “Mia, if you don’t apologize, I’ll smash this.” He knew what I cared about most. I only felt a creeping chill rise from my feet. I reached out, smacked the seashell keychain from his hand, and watched it shatter on the floor. He stared blankly at the broken pieces. Then looked at me in disbelief. “I don’t want it anymore,” I said, enunciating every word. He gathered his expression, gave a cold scoff, and asked: “Do you know why I don’t believe you? “You don’t care about the dress. You just can’t stand me buying things for her. “You know exactly what kind of filthy thoughts are in your head.” He laid my feelings bare over the shattered pieces on the floor. Without leaving a shred of dignity. I turned around and left the apartment. It was New Year’s Eve, and it was snowing outside. No one came looking for me. It was too cold. I stayed at the public bathhouse until it closed, nowhere else to go. I still ended up back at the apartment. Only Chloe was inside. She said she was hungry, so Ryan went out to buy New Year’s dinner. At that time, Chloe stood at my bedroom door, wearing his shirt, and asked me: “Did you know, Mia? “In the few hours you were gone. “Everything he wouldn’t do with you, he did with me.” I never went home again until after the college entrance exams. I ranked first in the entire school. I could go to the best university in the state capital. Ryan went to LA for a gaming tournament. It wasn’t until July 24th, when I went to the mountains to visit my dad’s grave. He called me from the hospital. Anxious and terrified, I pedaled my bike as fast as I could. All the way there, holding back tears, praying to God. He was my only family left. But when I arrived, he was sitting in the emergency room waiting area. He wasn’t the one hurt. Some thugs he had trouble with targeted Chloe while he was away. He grabbed my wrist, bombarding me with questions. “Chloe said she called you for help. Why did you ignore her? “You better pray she’s okay.” He gripped me so hard it hurt. “I didn’t know. There’s no signal in the mountains.” He suddenly remembered what day it was. He let go. Silence. He watched the people coming and going in the ER. And only said one thing to me: “Leave. “Go to college and don’t come back.” I walked out of the hospital doors and couldn’t find my beat-up bike for a long time. I was in such a rush earlier, I didn’t know where I parked it. I turned around and saw Chloe coming out. Superficial injuries. A band-aid on her hand. Crying uncontrollably in Ryan’s arms. Ryan thought I only applied to universities in the state capital. Not too far away. He could see me with a two-hour drive. He just never expected I would apply to an Ivy League school on the East Coast. Thousands of miles away from him. I never went back once. Never made a single phone call. During the summer of my sophomore year, I was tutoring. While I was in the bathroom, my high school student answered my phone as a prank. “He said he’s your brother.” The student handed the phone to me with a mischievous grin. “I told him I’m your boyfriend.” I took the phone: “Hello?” Ryan was silent on the other end for a long time. Finally, through gritted teeth, he forced out a laugh and said two words. “Very capable.” He hung up and blocked me. We never contacted each other again.

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I stirred up trouble in the incoming freshmen group chat: [I’m so pretty, won’t you guys feel insecure when you see me?] [Does the school have a helipad? Can I park my helicopter there?] [No way, no way, you guys applied for this major and don’t even know how to manufacture chips?] Soon, I was being flamed by the entire group chat. Some angry students even made me trend on social media, getting me dragged by the entire internet. But I just smirked because I was bound to the “Get Flamed to Get Stronger” system. If they keep flaming me, this beautiful girl is going to be flying a helicopter into school with 5-nanometer chip manufacturing technology! 01 College was about to start, and various show-offs started appearing in the incoming freshmen group chat for Stanford. Nate: [Could some kind upperclassman send the location of the parking lot? I’m planning to drive my Porsche to school. Ugh, I really can’t get used to driving left-hand drive cars in the US; I always drove right-hand drive abroad.] Chloe: [Ah, you’re driving yourself? My international driver’s license doesn’t work here, so I had to have my family’s chauffeur drive me.] I got excited seeing these two familiar names. Nate was a classmate from my AP Physics class, and Chloe was the popular girl from my high school. Stanford was right in our state, yet they were making such a big scene. Weren’t they just trolling? Since it was people I knew trolling, as a chronic troll myself, how could I not join in the fun? So, I also jumped out and asked: [Does the school have a helipad? Just got my pilot’s license, planning to fly my family’s helicopter to school.] Who knew that right after I spoke, Nate sent a picture of himself driving a Porsche with one hand. Damn, my former classmate is actually a rich kid? Immediately, people in the chat started kissing up: [Young master! Can this humble servant ride shotgun in the Porsche!] Nate replied quickly: [Don’t call me young master. My dad’s business partners used to like calling me that. I believe in an egalitarian world; I’m just an ordinary rich person.] [Yes, young master.] Not to be outdone, Chloe also sent a picture of the luxurious interior of a stretch limo. Wait, isn’t she the popular girl who did art in the other class? How does she actually have a luxury car? At this moment, I was struck silent. But Nate singled me out and asked: [Audrey Miller, what does your helicopter look like? Send a picture.] Me: […] What’s going on, are you guys flexing for real? Am I the only one actually just BSing? 02 Because I couldn’t produce a picture of a helicopter, the group chat started mocking me: [Hahaha, there really is a fake mixed in.] [A helicopter? You really want to fly to the heavens, huh?] Nate and Chloe also aimed their guns at me. Nate mocked: [I hate you broke people the most. No money in your pockets, no brains in your heads, and full of hot air.] I clutched my burning red face, increasingly embarrassed. We had been classmates for a few years, how could he talk to me so ruthlessly? Chloe also chimed in: [Unbelievable! Cheap people do cheap things, so cheap~] I had never heard of Chloe going abroad, but I didn’t expect her to be throwing around English like that now. But the worst part was me, because I had truly become a joke. Even hiding behind the screen, I felt so embarrassed I was about to combust. But while the people in the chat were flaming me, I suddenly heard a robotic voice: [Congratulations, you have successfully bound the “Get Flamed to Get Stronger” system!] [The harsher the flames, the stronger you become!] [Detected that ten people are currently flaming you. Wealth +10.] At the same time, I heard a pleasant voice— “CashApp transfer received: $10,000.” I jumped up like a carp, totally energized again! Other people go wait in line at temples to pray for wealth; I get flamed a couple of times and it just falls into my lap. What’s there to be embarrassed or ashamed of! Flame me! Flame me as hard as you can! 03 I was just about to show off my skills in the freshman group chat. But my mom called me to go out and buy groceries at that moment. I ran an extra block to buy fresh meat and vegetables. Just as I was walking back, a flashy-colored Porsche pulled up next to me. The window rolled down, revealing Nate’s mocking face. He looked at me dismissively: “It’s Audrey Miller. I thought I saw wrong. Even my family’s nanny drives a Mercedes to buy groceries, why are you walking to buy groceries? It’s fine if you don’t have a helicopter, but does your family not even have a Mercedes?” I gripped my grocery basket tightly. To be honest, we really didn’t. This was the first time someone had mocked me to my face. Even with the system, I was still a bit terrified and helpless. Nate, seeing my expression, mocked me again: “Next time you don’t have money, don’t pretend to be rich. You really drag down the class of us truly rich people.” And he didn’t forget to throw in one last insult at me—”Broke ass.” I was so angry that I suddenly burst out laughing. Because I heard the system voice: [Detected that you are being flamed. Wealth +5.] And the sound of money rustling: “CashApp transfer received: $5,000.” Nate was taken aback by my laughter, then he looked me up and down and gave a wicked smile: “Heh, you really are a glutton for punishment. Are you smiling at me to seduce me? After all, only by being my woman can you truly sit in luxury cars and fly in helicopters. I hadn’t looked closely before, but actually, with this face of yours—I wouldn’t totally rule it out.” As soon as he finished speaking, the system chimed in: [Wealth +10.] Ptooi! This sentence was even dirtier than the last one! I finally summoned the courage, and the anger I had accumulated burst forth at this moment: “I wanted to say this earlier, the color of this Porsche is absolutely hideous!!!” After saying that, I turned around and ran amidst his astonishment. In my ears was the continuous robotic voice: [Wealth +1.] [Wealth +1.] [Wealth +1.]… I ran, hearing “CashApp transfer received: $50,000,” feeling exceptionally exhilarated! 04 I got home and opened my phone. The freshman group chat was still buzzing. First, Nate spammed the group with pictures of his flashy Porsche. He also asked in the group: [Does this color really not look good? Is this color really ugly? Surely no one actually thinks this color Porsche looks bad, right?] He actually has moments of self-doubt? Of course, the people in the chat praised him; this was the real rich kid driving a Porsche, after all. Nate quickly regained his confidence: [I knew some people just don’t have taste, but the audience has a discerning eye!] Next, someone posted in the group: [Anyone want to post selfies for fun! Opportunity to get priority mating rights~] Chloe was the first to jump out. She posted a heavily photoshopped selfie. Legs ten feet long, heavily edited with filters, even the floor tiles next to her were warped. This was followed by a voice message, speaking in a cutesy anime voice completely different from her usual way of speaking: “Oops~ My hand slipped and I sent the wrong one~~~ By the time I noticed, I couldn’t unsend it~~~” Yeah, right. It hadn’t even been two minutes since the photo was sent. Even after two minutes, no one had said anything. I don’t know if Chloe was embarrassed, but I definitely laughed out loud. Just past the two-minute mark, Nate appeared. He posted a selfie of himself sitting in the Porsche. The photo was taken from a tricky angle that captured his bulging biceps and the Porsche logo reflected in his eyes. He really nailed the details, I’m dying. Nate also sent a voice message, using a deep, raspy voice he probably practiced for God knows how long: “Does the school have a gym? I have to bench press 200 pounds; if I don’t bench for a day, my whole body aches.” 05 Right after Nate finished showing off, someone in the chat recognized the Porsche reflection in his eyes. And so, the flattery began again. But Nate messaged me privately at this moment: [Audrey Miller, I know you only said my car was ugly because you didn’t get to ride in it. It’s okay, I won’t hold what happened earlier against you. Look at me, handsome and rich; if you get with me, won’t you have whatever you want!] While talking, he also sent transfers: [Transfer $520.] [Transfer $1314.] Nate added: [Transfers with special meaning numbers like these, even if we break up, I won’t ask for them back. Since you like pretending to be rich so much, why not get with me and become truly rich.] I was so silent I wanted to beat his dog head in. Where does he get this confidence, help!!! Of course I couldn’t accept this kind of money, so I decisively chose to return it! This money was dirtier than his insults! 06 That wasn’t the end of it. Nate publicly called me out in the main chat again: [Audrey Miller, how could we miss out on our Audrey for something as fun as posting selfies? I like Audrey’s looks, she’s totally my type.] These ambiguous words instantly excited the people in the chat. [Really? Really? Is Audrey Miller a huge beauty too? How beautiful, more beautiful than Chloe?] [Chloe is the school’s popular girl, but I haven’t heard that Audrey Miller is.] Of course I’m not as pretty as Chloe! I have self-awareness! Chloe has naturally cool-toned pale skin. I studied pretty hard in high school, so I was constantly sleep-deprived, and my skin was a bit rough and sallow. Chloe wasn’t happy hearing this either: [Audrey Miller, post a picture and let us see. I heard you’re also from our high school, but I’ve never heard that you were pretty.] Everyone was curious about what the girl Nate liked looked like. Nate even messaged me privately: [Audrey, quickly post a pretty selfie of yourself! Let them know that my, Nate’s, taste is the absolute best!] Could I give him what he wanted? I thought about it and whipped out a video from two years ago. It was taken when I participated in the Global Youth Fishing Tournament. In the video, I was tanned as dark as a shadow, holding the championship trophy and yelling in broken English: “China~” Thinking about the system rewards, I added on a whim: [I’m so pretty, won’t you guys feel insecure when you see me?] Sure enough, this blew up all the lurkers in the chat. 07 [Hahahahaha so this is the aesthetic of rich people, so unique!] [I tolerated the muscles, I drank the fake tea, but seeing this dark-skinned girl confidently participating in a beauty pageant, I can’t hold it in anymore!] [Your mating rights for the next four years of college are gone, but if you enter the popular girl contest, I will definitely vote for you!] [The main vibe is real, reliable, no filters, and honest. What a precious quality on the internet.] [She really is something, I’m dying. Even through the screen, she wants to show her truest beauty!] They don’t say you’re at the peak of your IQ right after high school graduation for nothing. The group members were all flaming me like mean girls, serving high-class shade. The system spoke up again: [Detected that you are being flamed. Beauty +10.] Flexing wealth and getting flamed makes me rich; flexing looks and getting flamed makes me truly beautiful. Amidst their chorus of “praise,” my face flushed red behind the screen. You wouldn’t guess it, but as a troll, I’m actually quite shy. But soon the blush faded from my face because I realized I really had gotten prettier. I saw myself in the mirror: my sallow little face from late-night studying in senior year had become fair and radiant, and my large pores had shrunk until they were invisible. At this rate, I won’t ever need cosmetic procedures in my life. I instantly got excited, and even felt that everyone was still being too restrained. The people in the freshman chat are all civilized; their insults aren’t harsh enough. Only Nate messaged me fiercely in private: [Audrey Miller, you did that on purpose! If you want to embarrass yourself, why drag me down with you! Let me tell you, I will never like you now!] Oh my god, thank you so much for that. 08 Nate’s love came fast and left fast. Soon he turned around and hooked up with Chloe. Rumor had it that within half a day, they made it official in the group chat. Someone asked him in the chat: [Nate, why didn’t you get with Audrey Miller? Is it just because of her dark skin? Can’t you see her simple and honest, excellent qualities?] The chat had not only show-offs but also kiss-asses. And mostly people who just loved watching the drama unfold. Nate got anxious and dropped an image. It was a screenshot of him transferring money to me: [Don’t slander me! I’m not that kind of person! Look at Audrey Miller, she was just after my money!] I frowned as I read it. What a sinister motive. That screenshot was taken the very second after the transfer was made. If he had waited even half a minute longer to take the screenshot, it would have shown the “Transfer Returned” screen. I immediately typed a reply: [Nate, don’t play the victim. I didn’t accept a single cent of the transfers you sent, nor did I ever ask for your money.] Nate replied: [Do you have proof? This screenshot of my transfer is solid evidence!] My fingers froze on the keyboard. I really didn’t have proof. Because I had deleted him a long time ago, and all the chat history had been cleared. I felt incredibly angry. I actually let him exploit a loophole! Now wasn’t it just whatever he said went! Sure enough, everyone started flaming me again: [Audrey Miller, I thought you were an honest girl, I didn’t expect you to be a gold digger!] [Look at you. If you looked like Chloe and were a gold digger, whatever. But with your pitch-black face where you can’t even see your features clearly, you sure have the nerve to be a gold digger!] I pursed my lips and listened to the system voice in my ear: [Wealth +1.] [Wealth +1.] [Wealth +1.]… For the first time, I felt this money was a bit hard to swallow.

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Dorian Thorne belonged to me for two years. In those two years, he went from an untouchable, elite golden boy to a man who knew exactly how to please me. Our breakup was incredibly messy; the news of him kneeling to win me back caused a massive uproar in our social circle. When we met again, he was my prospective fiancé’s uncle. The corporate marriage between the Kensington and Thorne families was just waiting for his nod. From beginning to end, he only said two words: “Not worthy.” Later, he pinned me against the door, shutting out the desperate calls of my prospective fiancé from the hallway. “Vera, he’s not nearly as fun to play with as I am.” 01 The youngest son of the Thorne family had somehow taken a liking to me. Everyone knew he was pursuing me. My best friend, Blair, advised: “Just give in. He’s totally obedient to you anyway.” Before I could even nod, someone else made the decision for me. The marriage between the Kensingtons and the Thornes was a massive social climb for the Kensingtons. My dad couldn’t have asked for anything better. The two families sat together, chatting enthusiastically. Preston Thorne whispered his confession beside me. “Vera, after we’re married, I’ll listen to you in everything.” My inner annoyance steadily climbed. I suddenly craved a cigarette. Preston was great—gentle, polite, rich, and handsome. But unfortunately, he really wasn’t my type. “Then in the future, I get to be on top every time. Is that okay?” 02 Preston’s face turned incredibly ugly. Right after I said that, someone sat down in the empty seat at the head of the table. The first thing that caught my eye was that pair of pale, long, elegant hands. The mole on his index finger was so familiar it sent a jolt of terror through me. In that split second, panic boiled up from the bottom of my heart. I subconsciously grabbed my phone. But I must have accidentally tapped something. A low, hoarse voice played from the phone’s speaker. “Vera, let me kiss you… breathe first… don’t touch me there.” I stiffly raised my eyes and met the gaze of the man at the head of the table. Honestly, I wanted to die. 03 During that dinner, I couldn’t taste a thing. I had imagined ten thousand ways of reuniting with Dorian. But never like this. That audio came from a video sent in a group chat by a friend—a secretly recorded video from an after-party five years ago. In the video, Dorian was pinned down and kissed by me. His ears were impossibly red. Among my group of rich, idle friends, Dorian was a well-known existence. I loved seeing men cry. In the two years Dorian was with me, he shed quite a few tears. Once, after making him cry, I took a picture, posted it on Instagram, and captioned it: [Such a good boy. I love him so much.] The comments section exploded. Then everyone knew I was keeping a “boy toy.” 6-foot-2, six-pack abs, incredibly obedient, and he only called me “Mistress.” A friend left a harsh comment: [Are you even treating him like a human being? Huh? You absolute psycho!] 04 I am a psycho. I have to admit it. Dorian was with me for two years. In those two years, he went from the highly praised, untouchable elite to someone who was very good at pleasing me. With me, most of the time he didn’t have to suffer financially. But when I went crazy, my methods of tormenting him came one after another. He often had red marks on his wrists from being restrained. His lips often had cuts. Some people did try to stand up for him. A suitor of Dorian’s. His face was so handsome it looked like a top-tier 3D modeler’s most perfect creation. There were quite a few people who liked him. “If you really like Dorian, you shouldn’t treat him this way. “His reputation is going to be completely ruined by someone like you. “I hope you break up with him sooner rather than later.” I sat on the balcony railing, swinging my legs. After hearing her out, I smiled kindly. “Yeah, I think you’re right.” Dorian was sitting at the other end of the corridor. His long legs spread apart, his arm resting on the back of the chair, propping up his chin as he looked at me. He radiated an aura of laziness and exhaustion. I swayed my body. In my peripheral vision, he abruptly stood up. That laid-back demeanor vanished completely. If I fell from here, I wouldn’t die, but injuries were unavoidable. He was terrified. “But there’s one thing I need to clarify. “I don’t like Dorian.” The shadows on the ground stretched long. The footsteps rushing toward me suddenly stopped. The setting sun behind Dorian was as red as blood. 05 At this dinner, Dorian only said two words from start to finish: “Not worthy.” My dad’s face looked terrible. I couldn’t help but laugh out loud: “Huh? How are we not worthy?” “Uncle~” I followed Preston’s seniority and called him that: “Preston and I are deeply in love.” The man at the head of the table looked up at me. His face was just too top-tier. My gaze shifted downward, resting on his lips. A very beautiful lip shape, one I had bitten open many times. “Veronica.” Not Vera, but Veronica. Or at the very least, it should have been Ms. Kensington. In the past, no matter how terribly I behaved, he never called me by my full name. I understood him. Dorian was angry. Because of what I just said. Which word in that sentence? Uncle? Preston? Or deeply in love? My hand was grasped by someone; it was Preston. “Uncle.” His voice was gentle: “Vera is straightforward, please don’t be hard on her. She means no harm.” I tried to pull away, but couldn’t. “Preston, let go.” This was said by Dorian. There was no specific tone, but it inexplicably made one’s heart tremble. Preston immediately withdrew his hand. “Grandpa said I’ll be the one to decide if this marriage happens or not. “Ms. Kensington, being deeply in love is useless. You’d be better off figuring out how to convince me.” “Convince you how?” Silence. No answer. The dinner ended abruptly. 06 A long road. The car took a sharp turn into a dark alley. Dorian and I were not heading the same way. When we parted, my dad pushed me into his car. My dad whispered a warning behind me: “No matter what method you use, make him agree.” Preston wanted to tag along. Dorian commanded: “Sit in the passenger seat.” So Preston closed the back door. Just as he walked to the passenger side, the car sped off. A closed-off road, the car stopped at the end of the alley. Dorian’s voice was very low: “Get out.” I reached for the door; it was locked. I frowned: “It’s locked, how am I supposed to get out?” The driver in the front seat unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car. Me: “…” Only the two of us were left in the car. The person beside me clearly sighed. The next second, a strong force grabbed my waist, forcefully hauling me onto his lap. Dorian’s hand wrapped around my wrist. He pressed my hand against the knot of his tie. In the dim car, his crimson lips parted. “Untie it.” I did as told. “Buttons.” I undid the top two buttons of his dress shirt. “Keep going.” So I rested both hands on his neck. Slowly, inch by inch, moving up to his jawline. Cupping his face, I tilted my head back to look at him. His voice was husky: “Vera, not enough.” I leaned forward and wrapped my arms around his neck. Dorian trembled slightly and smiled. “Deeply in love? “Heh, Vera, what are you doing to your prospective fiancé’s uncle right now? Hmm?” I rested my chin on his shoulder and smiled too. “Uncle. “Is this convincing enough? “My dad told me to use every possible method to make you agree.” Between Dorian and me, from the past to the present, I always believed I held the initiative. Even now that he was the future head of the Thorne family. Even though I had gone from being the true heiress to the fake one. However, as time passed, many things were indeed unpredictable. The moment Dorian opened his mouth, I became the passive one. “Want to be Mrs. Thorne? “Vera, be mine.” 07 At night, I sat in the study. On the desk lay an old relationship contract. The phone next to it kept vibrating. Calls were pouring in. From my dad, my mom, Blair, and Preston. I opened the first page of the contract. In the Party B column, the name “Dorian Thorne” was eye-catching. After a long while, I called Blair back. The topic cut straight to the point. She spoke first: “Did it work?” “No, Blair. Dorian is back.” She didn’t care: “Oh, and then? You still miss him and want to get back with your ex? “Wake up, sis. Men are never as important as your career.” I chuckled softly: “They both have the last name Thorne, what do you think?” Finally, the other end of the line went silent. “Why have I never heard of him in the news about the Thorne Corporation?” “I don’t know. I only found out today that he’s the Thorne heir.” I asked: “In the past, was I…” “Vera, run. I have a little money, I can support you.” “Was I… really that terrible back then?” Blair cursed: “What do you think? You absolute psycho! And he’s a psycho too! Being tortured like that and still not leaving.” “He was just…” I rubbed my nose guiltily. “You put a dog collar with a bell on him. You only allowed him to wear bespoke suits from that one specific brand because you thought he looked best kneeling in them. You should burn incense thanking God he’s not retaliating against you right now.” Me: “…” Put that way. The days back then were quite wild. 08 When I was 20, Dorian and I signed a relationship contract. No other reason. We both got what we needed. That year, the long-lost biological daughter of the Kensington family was found. Many things that belonged to me were subtly being transferred to her name. The sense of loss made me irritable. As for Dorian. He had a very rare condition—touch starvation. Not only that, his skin was allergic to others’ touch. When I met him, it was so severe he relied on medication every day to control it. I was his exception. How much of a psycho was I, exactly? Dorian was a year older than me, but he had to call me “Mistress.” When kissing him, I liked to bite his lip until it bled. Usually, when it was over, he would remain expressionless, raising a hand to wipe the blood off his lips. “It doesn’t hurt. I like it a lot.” This was my demand; I needed him to provide me with good emotional value. No matter how much it hurt, he had to endure it. When his symptoms flared up, he knelt on the expensive suit I bought him. With his hands tied behind his back, eyes red, begging me. “Please, help me.” I sat leisurely, my posture noble, the tip of my stiletto lifting his chin. “Hmm? How should I help?” “Hold my hand, or… anything… just physical contact…” Just as he was about to break down, I leaned over and cupped his face. Dorian’s body trembled, his jawline taut. The symptoms eased, but clearly not enough. “Vera…” I shook my head: “Wrong.” “Mistress…” I pushed further: “Dorian, you know what I like.” So he looked at me. After a long time, his eyes reddened, and finally, a tear fell. Finally, I hugged him just as he wished. “So impressive. What are you thinking about to be able to cry so quickly?” I always asked this every time Dorian cried. “Thinking about… the day you won’t want me anymore.” I rested on his shoulder and laughed. “What a great actor.” 09 The reason for the breakup was also simple. The contract expired. It ended very unpleasantly. He tried to win me back; I refused. That night, I found myself literally handcuffed in a basement. Dorian sat to the side. The dark circles under his eyes were prominent. He didn’t say a word. His face was just too stunning. So much so that my first reaction wasn’t even disgust. “Baby, this is illegal.” Dorian ignored that statement and brought a piece of watermelon to my lips. “Open.” I chewed twice: “It’s a bit bitter.” He chuckled: “So delicate. How can watermelon be bitter.” He put the half-eaten watermelon from my mouth into his own. “Why don’t you untie me? What if you feel sick? If I’m locked up, I can’t help you.” “I can take medicine.” Me: “…” Understood. No room for negotiation. Dorian pinched my chin. Forcing me to look him in the eye. His eyes were bottomless, truly validating that saying. He was too good at acting normally. “Vera, I should have just kept you locked up like this. “From morning till night, handcuffed here. “Pleasing me. Kissing, hugging, doing delightful things, and then I’ll grant you brief moments of freedom.” I shook my head: “I don’t like begging.” “It’s not up to you.” On the third day of being locked up, I hadn’t had a drop of water. Dorian couldn’t pry my mouth open no matter what. “Open your mouth. Otherwise, I’m giving you a nutrient IV.” He sounded fierce. I leaned against his shoulder. My entire body was weak. “Dorian, my stomach hurts.” The “pain” tactic usually only works on those who care about you. Those few words sent Dorian into a panic. He scooped me up and carried me out. His footsteps were frantic. The one thing Dorian hid the worst—was his love for me. Later, Blair came to pick me up, and I didn’t say a word about the details. “What happened to you two?” “Nothing.” “Dorian asked me to pass on a message to you.” “Hmm?” “He said, ‘Ms. Kensington, I hope you have smooth sailing from now on. Don’t ever let yourself fall into my hands one day.’” A prophecy fulfilled. What goes around comes around. 10 Preston was waiting downstairs early the next morning. Overnight, the situation became clear. Dorian gave the nod. The Kensington-Thorne marriage was set in stone. “Vera, you’re amazing. You even managed to persuade my uncle.” I kept my head down. Wondering how to phrase my words to minimize the damage and loss. “I was angry yesterday and told your uncle we were deeply in love. Sorry, actually I…” Preston interrupted me: “My uncle said you’re quite suitable to be a part of the Thorne family.” I paused. “Don’t be in a rush to reject me. Vera, haven’t you been fighting for the Boston Harbor project?” I started looking at Preston seriously. Objectively speaking, as a son-in-law for the Kensingtons, he was the most suitable. Why not Dorian? Because if it came to a capital game, Dorian was completely capable of turning the Kensington Corporation into a mere shell. And Preston wouldn’t. No, he couldn’t. Naturally, my dad preferred him. “How are you going to help me?” “I’ll take you to meet a few people.” I said: “Your condition?” “None. Just casting a brick to attract a jade, trying to win your favor.” I had learned a truth very early on. Resources don’t just flow into your hands because you try your hardest. On the way to the Thorne family’s summer resort. Blair sent me a message. Her intelligence network was always formidable. [Dorian’s exact words: Veronica Kensington is quite suitable to be a part of the Thorne family.] [Does this mean you and Preston are a done deal?] I rubbed my temples: [Dorian’s exact words: Want to be Mrs. Thorne? Be his.] [HOLY SHIT!!!] Three exclamation marks to show her shock: [What are you thinking now?] [Right now, I’m in Preston’s car.] User is typing… A long pause: [That’s so fucking wild. Are you two-timing? [If Dorian finds out you’re secretly meeting Preston…] I replied: [Watch your phrasing. It’s not a secret meeting. Besides, Dorian isn’t that idle.] 11 Dorian was very idle. He was sitting with several executives of the Boston Harbor project. Someone saw me before he did. He sneered. Then instructed the people around him: “Hey, put out your cigarettes.” I knew this guy. Last name Cole, Griffin Cole. I had met him a few times in college with Dorian. His punchable voice rang out: “Put ’em out, put ’em out, or someone’s going to get anxious in a minute.” Only then did Dorian look up. His eyes collided with mine. His index finger tapped the table slowly. He smirked: “You should put them out.” No one listened to Griffin. But as soon as Dorian spoke, the others swiftly extinguished their cigarettes. Preston greeted him. He nodded: “Have you eaten breakfast?” Preston quickly answered: “Yes.” “And Ms. Kensington?” I had stomach issues; I couldn’t go hungry. Preston had picked me up early, so I hadn’t had time for breakfast. “Not yet.” Preston looked apologetic: “I’m so sorry, I forgot. What do you want to eat? I’ll have someone…” He couldn’t finish his sentence. Dorian cut him off. “Have someone prepare a bowl of clear broth noodles for Ms. Kensington. No cilantro, a soft-boiled egg, and extra greens.” Griffin scoffed: “How many years has it been? You still remember?” A simple, brief exchange. No matter how dense Preston was, he should have understood by now. In today’s gathering, the one casting a brick to attract jade was someone else. All sorts of clumsy tricks. Luring me into the trap. “It truly is hard to forget. Unlike some people… completely heartless.” Me: “…” The Boston Harbor project was worth billions. Dorian offered a springboard. There was no reason for me not to jump. I chatted with Griffin and the others from morning till night. When the contract was signed, I breathed a sigh of relief. Griffin looked at me with admiration: “Ms. Kensington, you’ve got skills.” “You flatter me, Director Cole.” Another person changed the subject. “I heard the Kensingtons and Thornes are arranging a marriage. With Preston Thorne?” Griffin laughed heartily: “Ms. Kensington is highly ambitious; Preston probably isn’t a match for her.” “Then who else in the Thorne family is around Ms. Kensington’s age and is a good match?” Griffin raised an eyebrow, deciding not to answer for me this time. “Dorian.” You could hear a pin drop in the room. I repeated: “Dorian Thorne.” 12 I heard a similar conversation again that night. I swear. I wasn’t intentionally eavesdropping. I was dozing on the balcony. The heavy curtains hid me. The door opened outside. Dorian and Preston’s voices drifted in. “Uncle, you used me.” Dorian’s voice was cold: “Hardly.” I peeked through the gap in the curtains. I decided not to make a sound for now. “You clearly knew I liked her, and the Kensington family preferred me.” “Does it matter?” Dorian narrowed his eyes: “You even need my approval to marry her.” That was brutal. In my line of sight, Preston swayed on his feet. “Besides…” Dorian paused. He turned his head and glanced toward the balcony. Fine. He knew I was here. “Besides, I like her quite a bit too.” Dorian finished his sentence: “Preston, what do you have to compete with? “Vera securing the Boston Harbor project was seventy percent skill and thirty percent favor. Do you think Griffin Cole gave that favor because of you?” Every word pierced the heart. Preston was left speechless. Dorian’s move was ruthless. Killing two birds with one stone. Taking down Preston and striking at me. “Veronica is ambitious, and I have power and influence. We’re a match made in heaven.” Me: “…” I was just about to speak up. An audio recording echoed in the empty room. It was a past interview of mine. A deleted segment. The host asked: “Ms. Kensington, you’re successful in business, what about your love life?” “I have no expectations for romance.” “Not even when you were younger?” How did I answer back then? I said: “No.” “But I heard Ms. Kensington dated in college.” After a long pause, I opened my mouth: “Just playing around.”

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