Category: English

For three days, I hadn’t submitted a single expense request through the corporate system to Grant. He must have assumed I was finally learning how to be a proper high-society wife, because he sent a text message, a condescending gesture of reward. “I’ve resumed your mother’s treatment. Learn your lesson now—stop lying and padding your requests for extra cash.” “I know it’s hard for people from your background, but my money isn’t that easy to steal.” What he didn’t know was that by the time I received that text, I had already finalized the divorce papers. The only thing I could take with me was the white T-shirt and worn jeans I’d been wearing the day I moved in. No one would believe that Eleanor Stone, the glamorous wife of Grant Harrington, didn’t own four respectable pieces of clothing after three years of marriage. Every private expenditure had to be filed through the corporate expense system. All my clothes and jewelry were kept under lock and key in a walk-in safe, and I had to apply to his secretary, Serena Wu, just to access them. It was because he despised my humble origins. He was convinced I would acquire the “bad habit” of reckless spending, common among the newly rich. Three days ago, my adoptive mother’s condition worsened critically. I filed an urgent request for twenty thousand dollars for surgery. Serena, however, deliberately stalled the expense approval, a delay that cost my mother her life. She died in that hospital bed. Grant never understood. The only reason I endured him for so long was for the exclusive medical resources his company controlled—the only resources that could have saved her. Now that she was gone, there was nothing left to stay for. 1 I told Grant I wanted a divorce, but he refused. His response was a cold, three-word text: “Stop the drama.” When he finally spoke to me, his eyes never left the glow of his laptop screen. It was as if the dry electronic data held more interest for him than the conversation with his wife. I lowered my gaze, my voice steady. “I’m serious, Grant. I want a divorce.” He stood up, inhaling deeply, his expression chillingly detached. “The pause in your mother’s treatment? I authorized it. It had nothing to do with Serena; she was just following orders.” “If you hadn’t barged into my office and made a scene, I wouldn’t have felt the need to teach you a lesson.” “I had the treatment reinstated yesterday. My time is precious. I don’t have time for your temper tantrums.” He turned and walked away before I could reply, convinced that it wouldn’t be long before I came crawling back, head bowed. He was sure I’d swallow my pride and start trying to please him again, just like before. Even when he’d told me to my face, “Don’t be so desperate for my attention, it’s frankly disgusting.” I would just smile and silently return to being the dutiful, long-suffering housekeeper. But whether the treatment was reinstated now or not no longer mattered. If Grant had just taken my call three days ago, I might still be here, flattering him, bending over backward for him. But he was always too impatient to talk to me. I begged him not to hang up that day, pleaded for him to hear me out. But my desperate cries were instantly drowned out by Serena’s smooth, poisonous voice. “Is Eleanor upset because I reminded her to follow proper protocol, Grant?” She sounded delicate, wounded. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I just don’t want her to keep those messy, unplanned habits from her old life. If I stick strictly to the rules, she’ll learn discipline.” Hearing that, Grant’s impatience with my call sharpened. Ignoring my pleas, he delivered a cold, final command: “Do exactly what Serena says.” It was always the same whenever I needed him. “I’m busy. Talk to the secretary.” “Listen to Serena.” “Do whatever Serena tells you to do.” I was his wife, yet I had no dignity. Forget having a normal life. Even for the necessary social functions of a Grant Harrington wife—the ones I was required to attend—I had to submit an application for approval from his secretary. Every time, Serena would smile brightly and casually reject the ridiculous request. “Ellie, the description isn’t detailed enough. Rewrite it, please.” “The gala ends at 10 PM. Why did you write 12 AM? That’s not acceptable.” “Ellie, why are you always like this? Didn’t I tell you to review your application before submitting? Check it again.” She always ensured the approval came at the very last second, then she would watch, smiling sweetly, as I frantically scrambled to reach the venue, often late, often looking like a mess for the sake of a necklace or a dress. When I inevitably arrived late, Grant would look at me with palpable displeasure. “Eleanor, don’t you have a sense of time management?” “You can’t even handle a small task like this. Do you see now why you could never measure up to Serena?” But I couldn’t handle that small task. I was constantly late. All because of Grant Harrington’s “excellent secretary” and “virtuous assistant.” He couldn’t see it, or he simply didn’t care. Just as he knew my mother’s illness couldn’t tolerate delay or a break in medication. Yet, he still snapped at me irritably over the phone. “How many times do I have to tell you? If you need money urgently, go to Serena. Do you think she wouldn’t give it to you?” Getting money from Serena was, as always, an ordeal. “What kind of emergency needs twenty thousand dollars upfront? Ellie, are you just inventing excuses to get cash?” “Twenty thousand isn’t a small amount. I need an itemized receipt before I can approve it, darling. Application denied for now.” I explained it was an estimated pre-payment, and the final receipt would only be issued upon discharge. Serena curved her lips into a smirk. She feigned realization. “Oh, is that how it works? I wouldn’t know; everyone in my family is perfectly healthy.” “But expense approvals are very strict. We can’t let violations slide. How about you get a formal policy document from the hospital and attach it? Then I’ll approve it. Denied for now.” Later, she tried another tactic. “Hospitals sometimes fake documents, don’t they? I’m not saying you would, Ellie, but the possibility exists.” “Why don’t you attach the industry regulations instead?” And just like that, the critical time for emergency treatment was pushed back and back by Serena. By the time I finally received the money, even the most exceptional medical team was powerless to reverse the outcome. A continuous knot of hatred and anguish tightened around my heart. A suffocating feeling, beyond description, filled my chest. This marriage was a cage that restrained me. I had to escape. The moment I clearly understood my next steps, I suddenly felt light. It was as if the invisible shackles I’d carried for years had abruptly vanished. So when I received Serena’s defiant social media post—a picture clearly meant to provoke me—I felt absolutely nothing. I was calm enough to screenshot it and even click the ‘like’ button. Whenever Serena was involved, Grant’s messages always came quickly. “Serena has done great work lately. I’m simply taking my employee out to dinner. Don’t start any ridiculous rumors, Eleanor, and don’t make people misunderstand the situation.” I don’t know what Serena had told him this time, but he followed up with a self-righteous demand. “You already liked the post. If you take it back, people will get the wrong idea about Serena.” “Leave a comment, praising her work. Consider it encouragement from both of us, as a couple.” I didn’t intend to respond. But I thought about it, and the bitterness in my stomach was too much to swallow. So I complied with Grant’s demand. I commented on Serena’s post: “Serena, your dedication is admirable. Your impartial application of the corporate expense policy to both your boss’s wife and your co-workers, and your use of a simple system to wield the maximum amount of petty tyranny, is exemplary. Keep up the good work and the excellent wickedness.” “Every penny you save for the corporation now is a potential increase in your future alimony, should you succeed. Thumbs up.” I tossed my phone aside after replying. I began to calmly pack my things. My phone kept buzzing the entire time, but I ignored it. Packing didn’t take long. After all, every single valuable item supposedly belonging to me was locked securely behind a password-protected closet door and a triple-locked safe. For years, I had been a temporary guest in this house. Even my presence left only the shallowest trace. Now that my eyes were open, I finally understood the truth. 2 Grant arrived home fast. I had to admit it again: when it came to Serena, he was always prompt, never dragging his feet. He didn’t seem to notice the small suitcase by my feet, his eyes blazing with fury. “Did you not hear me calling you?” I was indifferent. “I heard it. I chose not to answer.” Grant looked at me as if I’d spoken an utterly ridiculous line, genuinely unable to comprehend my refusal. “I told you! Serena’s work has been excellent lately. I simply took her out for dinner.” “Do you have any idea how many people in the company already misunderstand her? How is she supposed to maintain her reputation after you post something like that?” I couldn’t stop myself from letting out a cold laugh. “Well, it seems not everyone is blind, then. Turns out, some people know exactly what she’s been up to.” I looked at Grant. “Besides, I’m not her mother. Why should I worry about whether her life at the company is easy or not?” Grant’s face darkened instantly. “Eleanor, when did you become one of those vulgar people who listen to every baseless rumor?” “You know how difficult it is for a young woman to achieve a high-ranking position in the corporate world. Why are you spreading slander and insulting another excellent woman? If you hadn’t thrown that fit at the office last time, would Serena have had to endure this?” His eyes were full of exhaustion and accusation. “You want to be an unproductive socialite? I won’t fault you for that. I’m happy to keep you in luxury. But not all women are as short-sighted and useless as you are.” “If you continue to be malicious and slanderous toward Serena, don’t test me. Think about your mother.” I finally burst out laughing. My voice was raw with grief and pain. Right in front of Grant, I opened my suitcase. “Luxury? Take a look at the life of luxury I lead in your house.” “I’m leaving, and I can’t pack four decent items of clothing. I have to file an expense report just to get a haircut, asking your esteemed secretary for permission. The nanny’s monthly salary is higher than mine, the wife of Grant Harrington!” I grabbed Grant’s arm and forcefully dragged him to the walk-in closet, pointing at the combination lock on the door. “Do you even know how to open this lock? It requires a code and a fingerprint scan. Even your company’s confidential files aren’t secured this tightly!” “What kind of wife living in ‘luxury’ has to beg for her daily necessities like a mistress living off scraps from her husband’s secretary?” Incredulity was etched all over Grant’s face. He looked bewildered. “Is this why?” “Is this why you’re jealous of Serena? Why you ran to the office to ruin her reputation?” Hearing his question, my heart sank completely. Everything I’d just said was utterly wasted on him. If Grant had believed for one second that this was wrong, that it was insulting and degrading to me, he would have stopped it years ago. For all these years, he had indulged every ridiculous suggestion Serena made, putting my basic necessities under the corporate expense system. I lowered my eyes. “Fine. Think whatever you want.” “We’re getting a divorce.” Hearing my absolute certainty, Grant actually smiled. His expression was one of knowing condescension. “That’s enough, Eleanor. I don’t have time to coddle you.” “Your drama is just a cheap stunt to compete with my secretary. Don’t assume all women are petty and small-minded like you.” He slowly smoothed the wrinkles I’d created when I grabbed his shirt, sounding as if he were making a massive concession. “Tomorrow, I’ll arrange for the best medical team from overseas to treat your mother. I’ll also have Serena give you the codes for the closet and the safe, and change the fingerprint access to yours.” “From now on, the finance department will wire you ten thousand dollars a month. No more expense forms.” After all our years together, I knew Grant well. For him, this was the ultimate compromise. Logically, I should have accepted the truce. But I was truly sick of this three-person relationship. No—perhaps I had never been truly involved in the first place. Even now, he made all these promises, yet he didn’t say a single word about Serena’s actions. We both knew the ridiculous expense protocol was her sick joke. The man in front of me casually agreed to change the system. It meant he simply didn’t care. If I accepted his arrangement now and returned to being Mrs. Harrington, Serena would still be a permanent fixture in our lives. “I don’t want any of it. I just want a divorce.” Grant finally realized I wasn’t just throwing a tantrum. Not only was I rejecting his peace offering, but I was determined to leave. His impatience instantly curdled into rage. “Eleanor, don’t forget the prenuptial agreement! You won’t get a dime if you divorce me!” “And what about your family business, and your mother’s illness? Do you really think your stepfather—the one with the new family—will take care of her without me?” Of course, he wouldn’t. I was painfully aware that if that ungrateful man hadn’t abandoned my mother and forced me into a corner, I never would have agreed to this absurd marriage in the first place. Grant and I were parallel lines that were momentarily forced to intersect. Now, all I was doing was letting things return to their proper course. I zipped up my suitcase again, my voice neutral. “I don’t care.” Grant froze, confused as to why his historically foolproof methods no longer worked. But his ego wouldn’t allow him to beg. So he simply watched, silent, as I walked to the door. Right as I pulled the door open, Grant almost gave in to the sudden terror and called out my name. But then he remembered what Serena had told him. “The wife is just bored at home, Grant. She wants to play out a scene from a bad soap opera.” “I’ve seen plenty of women spoiled by the good life. Just ignore her, let her stew, and she’ll come running back soon enough, apologizing to you.” She will be back, Grant thought, fighting his rising anxiety. He reached into his pocket but pulled out only a piece of handmade pear candy. He often coughed after smoking, especially when the weather was dry, so I had found many small ways to help him feel better. She isn’t completely useless, Grant conceded to himself. When she comes back, I’ll make sure she apologizes properly, sincerely regrets this, and never threatens me with divorce again. He quickly convinced himself. 3 After leaving Grant, I hesitated for a long time before going to see my old professor. When Professor Adler, her hair now completely white, saw me dragging my thin suitcase, she didn’t say a word. She simply stepped aside, gesturing me into her home, just as she had for all my visits years ago. My eyes instantly welled up, and tears began to fall. She had been the fiercest opponent of my decision to quit school and marry. Even on my wedding day, she didn’t stop texting me. “Ellie, hardship is temporary. There is no obstacle you can’t overcome.” “You can find another way to solve your problem. Don’t be foolish and sacrifice your entire life.” “The trophy wife life looks good on paper, but your contributions are invisible. Your degree will be a temporary halo, but you will always be a beggar, dependent on others for money. And when you beg, you always have to bow.” Time had proven Professor Adler correct in every way. Initially, Grant was impressed by my degree. But then Serena entered his life. She claimed that since I had been a ‘street urchin’ before my adoption, a college degree couldn’t erase the bad habits I’d learned in my youth. She said I needed to learn the rules of their class and develop good spending habits. I was the one asking Grant for money. He could choose to give it to me, choose not to give it to me, or choose to give it to me in the most humiliating way possible. I cried until I had nothing left. Professor Adler finally spoke, her voice calm. “I hope you haven’t forgotten your skills.” “I have a job here, field research that requires hiking and deep data collection. Are you in?” I was momentarily stunned. I hadn’t expected my mentor not only to welcome me but to offer the very thing I needed most—work. She frowned slightly. “What? Have you gotten too used to the good life of a socialite? Can you no longer handle the grind of us working stiffs?” The tears were still on my face, but I managed a genuine smile. “I can handle it, Professor. For myself, I’ll endure any hardship.” Professor Adler smiled warmly, immediately shifting into action. “If you agree, contact the team quickly. This is work, not a TV drama. We don’t have time for self-pity.” Under her arrangement, I quickly joined the research team. At first, I struggled to adjust. But as the days passed, the knowledge and operating procedures etched into my soul surfaced. I became increasingly adept. The serious, unsmiling team leader gave me a thumbs-up. “I was worried you’d be too delicate. But you’re proof that great teachers produce great students.” I smiled back. “Everyone is just looking out for me. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have adjusted so fast…” Just as we were joking around, an inappropriate call rang out. “Eleanor?” I turned to see Serena, dressed in high fashion, clutching a brand-new designer handbag. She looked dismissively at the people around me. “I wondered why you suddenly started demanding a divorce from Grant. Turns out you’re just slipping back to your old habits, slumming it with these sorts of low-lifes again.” She wrinkled her nose as if speaking to us was a generous gift. My face went cold. We were measuring data like savages, and we probably looked a mess, but that wasn’t an excuse for her to insult us. “Serena Wu, are you a cockroach? Are you everywhere I go?” Serena’s face flushed. A deeply familiar man emerged from behind her. “What’s wrong?” Hearing his question, Serena’s eyes reddened, and she spoke in a soft, injured voice. “Nothing, darling. It’s just that Eleanor has been gone for so long, and I saw her here, mixed up with some rough-looking people, obviously stalking us. I just tried to talk some sense into her…” “But she completely misunderstood…” Grant finally noticed me standing opposite him. He frowned slightly. His eyes held an air of knowing dismissal. “Eleanor, are you harassing Serena again? If you’re here to apologize to me, you need to apologize to Serena first!” I rolled my eyes and, with a gesture, led my team away. A female colleague beside me whispered, “Ellie, who was that?” I sneered. “My blind, brainless ex-husband.” Grant’s face darkened, and he demanded, “Eleanor! You followed us all the way out here. How long are you going to keep this up?” “You’ve been gone for weeks, showing no concern for your mother. Where is your conscience? Are you really going to force me to cut off her medical funding?” I looked at him with profound weariness, my voice flat. “Just do it, then. It’s the thing you do best, isn’t it?” Stung by my look of utter contempt and coldness, Grant couldn’t tell whether he felt more anger or the dawning fear of loss. He immediately pulled out his phone, missing the flicker of panic on Serena’s face. “Grant, maybe we shouldn’t…” Grant pushed down Serena’s hand, which was clutching his arm, and spoke to her with sudden, chilling finality. “She needs a lesson. Otherwise, she’ll never learn how to be Mrs. Harrington!” The assistant on the other end of the line sounded hesitant after receiving the order.

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I kidnapped the Crown Prince of New York’s elite for fifty thousand dollars. I dragged him to a cabin in the woods and called my boss, a local mobster. “What do I do with him?” “Slap him,” the boss said. The signal in the mountains was terrible. I heard “Kiss him.” So I leaned in and planted one on him. The next second, text floated across my vision like a live stream chat: […She’s not just hungry for money, she’s deaf.] [Nah, she’s just thirsty. Look at Mia drooling.] [Mia just wanted to kiss him, she’s pretending she heard wrong.] Chapter 1 I suspect my boss isn’t in the underworld. He’s in the adult film industry. The evidence? He gave me two very suggestive orders. First: “Slap him.” “Kiss him?” I repeated into the phone. Usually, kidnapping involves punching and kicking. Ours involves kissing? “Boss, are you sure?” “Hurry up,” the boss ordered from the other end. “Until he bleeds.” “Bleed?” I gulped. “It’s my first time doing this.” Kinda embarrassing. “Practice makes perfect…” “Boss, I’ve read plenty of romance novels, but I lack practical experience.” “What practical experience… this is practical experience!” The signal was cutting out, mixed with static. “Stop wasting time…” “Do it or not…” “Do you want the money?” At the mention of money, I panicked. “Yes, yes, yes.” I laughed nervously into the phone. “Boss, I’m kissing him now.” I looked down at Asher Sterling, the heir to a New York empire, tied up like a Thanksgiving turkey. He was wearing nothing but a grey bathrobe. His chest, flushed pink, was exposed to the cold mountain air. If not for the ropes, the loose belt around his waist would have slipped off completely. I didn’t dare look, but I couldn’t help stealing a few glances. I whispered, “So… sorry.” I meant to grab his collar and give him a peck. But Asher’s body, toned from years of gym sessions, was firmer than it looked. I didn’t pull him up; instead, inertia sent me crashing down onto him. My teeth slammed hard against his soft lips. “Hiss—” Asher sucked in a breath instinctively, a trace of blood oozing from the corner of his mouth. Technically, I kissed him. And he bled. “Done, boss.” The next second, the boss’s satisfied voice came through: “Good job.” For some reason, floating text appeared before my eyes: […She’s not just hungry for money, she’s deaf.] [Nah, she’s just thirsty. Look at Mia drooling.] [Mia just wanted to kiss him, she’s pretending she heard wrong.] Before I could read the comments carefully, a thought struck me. I pressed my hands against Asher’s chest, half-sitting on him, and asked: “Do you have H. pylori?” The text changed: [What the hell is H. pylori doing here?] [LMAO I’m dying.] [Wait, the victim hasn’t even spoken yet.] [Why is Mia so goofy right now? Kinda cute.] […] Chapter 2 Second order: “Beat him.” “Huh?” Sleep with him? “Boss… isn’t that a bit much?” First kissing, now sleeping? “Beat him until he’s half-dead.” Is he trying to ruin his reputation? What a sinister, cunning plan. Sleep with him until he’s half-dead… That’s pretty brutal… I picked at my fingernails, negotiating: “Boss, since it’s my first time, can you add another ten grand?” “You’re bargaining?” “No, no.” I changed my tune immediately. Fifty grand plus sleeping with Asher Sterling? I’m winning either way. “Boss, when do I get the fifty grand?” “Do as I say first. The Sterling family will bring the ransom tomorrow.” I hung up. Asher lay on the floor, his face dark, gritting out through his teeth: “Mia Stone!” “You recognized me?” My heart skipped a beat. Exposed so soon? Then I really can’t let him go. Asher and I met when we were kids. When I was five, my mom took me to Asher’s birthday party. Before leaving, I cried and rolled on the floor, demanding to marry Asher, relying on my mom’s friendship with Mrs. Sterling to demand an arranged marriage. “Heh.” I stood up, dusting myself off nonchalantly. “Still holding a grudge after all these years.” But I was no longer the spoiled Stone heiress. When I was ten, my mom died, and my father remarried. I found out I had a half-sister, Chloe Stone. Thus began my long life of “living under someone else’s roof.” Just last week, I got an acceptance letter from an art school in Paris, planning to leave the Stone family forever. But my stepmother incited my father to marry me off to the youngest son of the Thorne family for a business alliance. Chloe would marry Asher instead. It didn’t matter who I married, until I accidentally found out the Thorne son had anger issues and liked to hit people. I wanted to run, but Chloe stole the bank card my mom left me. Desperate, I contacted a guy from the underground and kidnapped the freshly returned Prince of New York. “You want money that badly?” “Yeah.” I’m taking risks, walking on the edge of a blade. Isn’t it obvious? “How much?” “Fifty thousand.” Asher frowned. “Dollars?” “Yeah.” Asher’s face turned darker. “Pathetic.” Why is he insulting me? Chapter 3 Even the floating text was mocking me: [Girl, you kidnapped Asher Sterling, the Prince of New York, for fifty grand?] [Stealing one of his shirts would get you more than that ransom.] [Suddenly I feel bad for Mia. I feel like I’d only dare ask for fifty grand too.] [That Patek Philippe on his wrist is worth five million buns.] [Patek Philippe, Patek Philippe, Patek Philippe…] What Patek Philippe? What five million buns? I ignored the text. Squatting down, I pondered how to sleep with the man in front of me. Asher was radiating heat, and my head was spinning. Thinking about what I had to do, my fingers trembled. Next time I kidnap someone, I need to clarify if it’s a hit job or a… hit job. “Scared?” Asher looked at me, lacking any professional hostage decorum. “Scared?” I puffed out my chest. “Joke.” I straddled him, fumbling for the next step. The knots in the rope were tricky. I got anxious, sweat beading on my forehead. Asher’s eyes held a smile, his voice muffled: “Need help?” I hid my panic, barking fiercely: “Don’t move, you’re distracting me.” He trembled slightly. A low chuckle spread through the small room. The text: [Ahhh, am I the only one shipping this?] [The male lead seems so indulgent.] [Why is Mia so clumsy?] [I can’t wait for the next part!] Indulgent? It looked like blatant provocation to me. In my haste, my hand slipped and pressed down hard. He frowned instantly, sucking in a breath: “My…” I scratched my head. “Sorry, no experience.” Asher’s mouth twitched. “Should I do it?” “???” Is that appropriate? My hand, reaching for his pants, froze. I bent down, pulled off one of his socks, and stuffed it in his mouth. “I’m the kidnapper, or are you?” The silence in the comments was deafening: […] […] […] [Great, she’s straight as an arrow. We’re doomed.] Chapter 4 With Asher gagged, the world was much quieter. My hands moved faster. I stripped Asher to the waist in seconds. Bronzed skin, defined muscles, a lean waist… And those collarbones. My ears burned, blood rushing to my head. For a collarbone fetishist like me, this was too tempting. I pressed down on his chest and bit… The text: [Male lead’s body is top tier.] [I can’t help it either.] [Warning: High energy ahead. Big doings.] [The author actually wrote this? I came for this scene.] [Too bad Mia has no stamina, she’s about to faint from low blood sugar.] [Boohoo, I wanted to see 300 rounds.] [Upstairs, you’re thirsty too.] I paused. Who are they looking down on? Faint? Okay. Maybe. I haven’t eaten in three days. Sure enough, halfway through, my last bit of strength drained away. “Pain—” My body felt like it was falling apart. The text went crazy: [Wait, that’s it?] [Wasn’t it supposed to be big doings?] [Mia, get up and continue!] I was about to close my eyes in annoyance when I saw the last line of small text: [Am I the only money-grubber still thinking about the male lead’s five-million-dollar Patek Philippe?] My dizzy brain cleared instantly. Five million… watch? Holding up my pants with one hand, I groped for Asher’s watch with the other. I took it off and examined it. “Looks pretty ordinary.” “Real or fake five million?” “Doesn’t look like it.” I took out my phone to scan the price. 360 degrees, couldn’t scan it. The text: […] [Great, she’s checking Amazon. We’re done.] [You idiot, Amazon won’t have that.] Right. I opened eBay. […] [Mia doesn’t think eBay will have it, right?] [You have to check the official website.] [Damn it, just ask the guy!] Agreed. I pulled the sock out of Asher’s mouth. “How much is this watch?” Asher didn’t speak, staring at me with lowered eyes, his cheeks flushed. I played with the watch, suspicious. “Looks pretty ordinary.” Asher’s eyes darkened, his voice low: “You stop now to ask this?” “I gave up resisting, and you stop?” “It’s only five million.” I stopped playing with it instantly, cradling it in my palms. Only. Five. Million. Damn, who said this watch was ordinary? It’s magnificent. The text urged: [Forget the watch, do the deed!] [My pants are off, don’t stop!] [The male lead is dying here.] [I paid VIP for this.] [Mia, stop looking at the watch, get to work!]

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On the surface, I’m the school’s resident pretty girl with a hollow head—a total academic failure. But behind closed doors, I’m terrifyingly disciplined, grinding through practice exams until 2 AM every night. To boost my GPA, I’m simultaneously juggling three “tutors.” They happen to be the three top students at Oakwood Academy: the STEM genius, the Literature prodigy, and the Debate champion. I thought I was managing my schedule perfectly. I thought my secret was safe. That is, until I accidentally saw a group chat on one of their phones. Caleb (STEM God): [Harper is studying Physics with me tonight. Don’t overload her with other homework.] Sebastian (Lit Genius): [Don’t keep her too late. I need to go over the reading list with her afterwards.] Adrian (Debate King): [So, serious question… after graduation, which one of us do you think she’s going to pick?] I panicked. I dropped the phone and turned to flee, only to find the three of them blocking the doorway, arms crossed, staring right at me. 1 I am famous at Oakwood Academy. Famous for having top-tier looks and bottom-tier grades. I sit comfortably at the very bottom of the class rankings. In the latest Calculus exam, I achieved a spectacular score of 8%. Mr. Harrison, usually the mildest teacher in the school, was chasing me down the hall with my test paper. “Harper Sterling! If I threw a scantron sheet on the floor and stepped on it, I’d score higher than an eight! How did you manage to dodge every single correct answer?” “We are a prep school! This is an Honors class! How did you even get in here?” I picked up the crumpled test he’d thrown at me and offered a sheepish smile. “Mr. Harrison, don’t be mad. I promise I won’t get an eight next time.” The whole class roared with laughter. Mr. Harrison looked like he might have a stroke. “Right, next time you’ll aim for a nine? Take this home, get your parents to sign it, and bring it back tomorrow!” Just then, a crisp voice came from the doorway. “Mr. Harrison? The principal sent me to return your flash drive.” Mr. Harrison turned around, his face instantly transforming from rage to delight. “Hailey! Thank you so much. I heard you got a 98% on this test. Fantastic work, truly.” The girl at the door smiled humbly. “You’re too kind, sir. I still made silly mistakes. Caleb got a perfect score, after all.” “This test was brutal,” Mr. Harrison reassured her. “A 98 is incredible. Caleb has been doing college-level math since he was six; he’s an outlier.” He turned back to me, his eyes filled with disappointment. “Hailey is your sister, Harper. How can you be related and be so… different? Graduation is around the corner. You need to wake up.” I nodded enthusiastically like a bobblehead, but my eyes were locked on Hailey. She smirked slightly, turned on her heel, and walked away. I let out a silent sigh of relief. 2 Back at my desk, my friend Chloe whispered, “Was that your sister? I heard she’s ranked fifth in the whole grade. Why don’t you ask her to tutor you?” I stuffed the shameful test paper into my bag. “Studying is boring. Gaming is better. Want to hop on Discord tonight?” Chloe looked like she was about to cry. “I got a 30%, Harper. If I touch my Xbox, my mom will kill me. Thank god I have you, or I’d be the only one failing this class.” I glanced at her test paper, covered in red ink. I couldn’t help myself. “Chloe, question five is just the quadratic formula. How did you miss that?” Chloe blinked, flipped open her textbook, and scribbled for three minutes. Then she looked up at me, wide-eyed. “Oh my god, you’re right! Harper, how did you know that?” Panic spiked in my chest. “I… I guessed! It was the only one I got right on the whole test! Total luck.” Bianca, the girl sitting in front of us, turned around with a sneer. “You two are hopeless. Dumb and Dumber. You should just drop out and go to public school.” “Hey!” Chloe snapped. “We got into this school fair and square! And if I remember correctly, Harper’s entrance exam score was higher than yours!” Bianca laughed coldly. “That was years ago. Look at her now. She’s rotting at the bottom of the barrel.” Chloe opened her mouth to argue, but I grabbed her arm. “Chloe, stop. The teacher is looking.” 3 After school, Chloe tried again. “Harper, seriously, skip the games tonight. Let’s go to the library and fix our math grades.” Just then, Hailey walked by. She paused, looking at me with that perfect, practiced smile. “Heading to the library, Harper? I’m going too. Want to come?” I shook my head vigorously. “Nope. Going home to rank up in League. My grades are a lost cause anyway.” I walked away under Chloe’s disappointed gaze. It was a shame. I really wanted to explain those math concepts to Chloe. As soon as I stepped off campus, my phone buzzed. Contact: STEM God (Caleb) [You missed one question on the practice set yesterday. I’ll explain it tonight.] [Also, I heard you got an 8% on the school exam. What are you doing?] [Score control is an art, Harper, but single digits is just insulting.] I frowned, mentally replaying yesterday’s problem set. I couldn’t believe I missed one. I typed back quickly: [Meet at the usual spot.] Then, a follow-up: [I got an 8 because… don’t you think the number 8 looks cute? Like a little snowman?] Caleb: […] 4 At 6:00 PM, I arrived at a quiet café downtown. Caleb was already there, tucked in a corner booth. He looked up the second I walked in. “Do we have telepathy?” I teased, sliding into the seat opposite him. Caleb shook his head, his face serious. “No. I just didn’t know when you’d arrive, so I looked up every time the door opened.” I paused. Caleb was usually cold and aloof. It took me months of strategic flirting to get him to agree to tutor me. Hearing him say something so… human… was weird. He seemed to realize what he said and looked down at his books, the tips of his ears turning pink. “Let’s look at the problem,” he muttered. “This geometry proof. Your initial logic was sound, but your auxiliary line was wrong…” After reviewing the mistake, he pulled out a fresh practice test. “What did you actually get on that school exam?” he asked. “100%. Same as you,” I whispered. The corner of his mouth quirked up. “Good. Your logic is solid. But the SATs are different from our school’s specific curriculum. Try this set. It’s modeled after the AP exams.” I took the paper and started working. Ninety minutes later, I handed it back. Caleb nodded. “You’re getting faster.”

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Connor Vance hired a struggling single mother as his assistant. I found them locked in a passionate kiss in his office. When I asked about the new hire, Connor put on a righteous face. “Sophia, her life has been so hard. We have to do what we can to help her.” I smiled and nodded. I not only created opportunities for them to be alone, but I also gave the woman a promotion and a raise. If Connor was so desperate to play the hero, then I was going to let him see for himself. Some black holes can never be filled. 1 The day Connor gave his interview to Forbes, he made a special point to mention his family. “I’m incredibly grateful to my wife, Sophia,” he said, his voice smooth for the cameras. “She’s the one who has always supported me from behind the scenes, allowing me to focus on my work without any worries.” The interviewer looked at him with admiration. “Mr. Vance, you truly have it all—a flourishing career and a beautiful family. We hear your company just landed that major city-backed development project. A remarkable achievement for someone so young.” Connor waved his hand with practiced modesty, but he couldn’t hide the glint of pride in his eyes. Only I knew the truth. That “major project” was something I had secured by pulling strings with three generations of my family’s contacts. And Connor’s company? I had funded its creation from my own trust. I had willingly stepped out of the spotlight, choosing to be the power behind the throne. It was something my parents had taught me from a young age: a woman who’s too assertive can bruise a man’s ego, especially a man with a fierce sense of pride like Connor. So, it seemed a fair arrangement. He could stand on the stage, and I would play the part of the supportive wife. After the interview wrapped, Connor walked over to me. “Honey, how did I do?” I handed him a bottle of water I’d already opened. “You were brilliant. A true captain of industry.” He took a long, satisfied drink, his arm draping naturally over my shoulders. “Of course. It’s all thanks to my wife’s excellent training.” “Where should we go for dinner tonight? That new Italian place, or French?” “You decide,” I said, smiling as I linked my arm through his. Just before we got in the car, my phone buzzed. It was a message from my cousin, Chloe. “Soph, what happened to my spot in the corporate housing?! It was supposed to be mine, but your husband’s new admin assistant got it?” I frowned. Chloe was my uncle’s daughter, a firecracker with a sharp mind. Fresh out of grad school, she had insisted on getting a job at the company on her own merit, going through the entire campus recruitment process. She didn’t want anyone to know we were related, worried they’d treat her differently. Not even Connor knew who she was. To escape my aunt’s constant nagging, she had applied for one of the subsidized apartments the company offered to new talent. As Connor got into the driver’s seat, I casually brought it up. “I heard the list for the talent housing was finalized. It seems that new intern from Stanford got bumped off the list.” Connor’s hands faltered for a second on the steering wheel. His eyes darted away. “Oh, that spot,” he said, clearing his throat. “I had HR reassign it to Bella.” Bella? The name clicked. She was Connor’s new assistant. A quiet woman, with a gentle, almost domestic air about her. Connor let out a heavy sigh. “Sophia, you have no idea how hard her life is. She’s a single mom, raising a five-year-old son all by herself. They live way out in the suburbs to save on rent. She has to get up before dawn every single day to make him breakfast before taking two trains to get to the office.” He turned to me, his expression earnest. “The corporate housing is right across the street from the office, and it has a daycare right next to it. I know that intern technically qualifies, but Bella clearly needs it more. As the CEO, showing a little compassion for an employee in need is good for morale. You understand, right?” His reasoning was flawless. Bella’s situation was genuinely sympathetic. If it had been my decision, I probably would have done the same. After a moment’s thought, I agreed. “A single mother and her child have it tough. It’s good of you to have a heart. I’ll smooth things over with the intern.” Connor visibly relaxed. “I knew you’d understand, honey. You’re the most reasonable person I know.” I smiled faintly and typed a reply to Chloe. “Stop fighting with a struggling employee for resources. I’ve got you a place at The Sterling. The rent’s on me.” A bowing emoji popped up instantly. “You’re the best boss ever!” 2 That weekend, Bella came to our house to thank us. She stood hesitantly in the foyer, clutching a fruit basket, looking so out of place she didn’t seem to know where to put her hands. “Mr. Vance, Sophia… thank you. Thank you so much.” Bella was wearing a pair of washed-out jeans and a loose, cream-colored knit sweater that made her look even more frail and thin. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and when she looked at Connor, it was with the reverence one might reserve for a deity. “If it wasn’t for Connor… I mean, Mr. Vance’s help, I don’t know what I would have done.” She bowed deeply, the collar of her sweater gaping slightly to reveal the pale skin of her collarbone. Connor reached out to steady her, his voice soft. “Please, don’t. It was nothing. You didn’t have to come all this way.” “Oh, but I did,” Bella insisted, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She turned her gaze to me. “Sophia, please tell the intern I’m so sorry. I feel terrible for taking her spot.” I offered a polite smile. “Don’t worry about it. The company has its policies, and if Connor felt you met the criteria for assistance, then you deserved it.” Her eyes flickered around our living room, a flash of envy quickly suppressed. Her voice was barely a whisper. “Connor is such a good man. So successful and dedicated to his family. You’re a very lucky woman, Sophia.” The praise seemed to make Connor swell with pride. He waved it off. “Not at all. It’s a man’s duty to take care of his family.” The words had barely left his mouth when a shadow of sadness crossed Bella’s face. Connor immediately realized his mistake. Before I could intervene, Bella’s phone rang. Her expression soured as she answered. “What? The pipe burst? The landlord… no, please don’t be angry, I’ll be right back…” When she hung up, tears were streaming down her face. “I’m so sorry, Connor, Sophia, I have to go. My son was playing with the water in our rental, and a pipe burst… the whole floor is flooded.” “Oh god, the landlord is going to kill me… I’ll have to pay for the damages…” “A pipe burst?” Connor was on his feet in an instant. “How can you handle that on your own? The plumbing in those old buildings is a nightmare.” He turned to me. “Sophia, I’m going to go help her. I’ll be back soon.” I frowned, instinctively trying to stop him. “Can’t she just call building maintenance? What are you going to do? Do you even know how to fix a pipe?” Connor’s face hardened. “Sophia, every minute that water is running is another minute of humiliation for her with that landlord. It doesn’t matter if I can fix it. What matters is that I’ll be there to back her up, to keep her from being bullied!” Bella looked at him through her tear-filled eyes, her gaze shining with pure adoration. “Connor… you’re so kind… besides you, no one in the world cares if my son and I live or die.” “Don’t say that. It’s no trouble at all. Let’s go.” Connor grabbed his car keys and, taking Bella by the arm, walked out the door without a backward glance. Leaving me alone in the foyer. I stood there for a long time, stunned. It had been ages since I’d seen Connor that agitated. He was always so calm and collected. The only other time I’d seen that kind of frantic urgency in him was when we were first in love, when he would drop everything over the smallest problem I had. 3 Connor didn’t come home until late that night. I was waiting for him on the sofa, the issue of Forbes with his interview resting in my lap. I hadn’t read a single word. “Is it fixed?” I asked. “Of course,” he said, loosening his tie with a triumphant air. “A little problem like that is nothing for me. You should have seen the landlord’s face when I pulled up in the Benz. He went pale and didn’t dare say another word. Bella was terrified, just clinging to my sleeve and calling me her savior.” He recounted the story with a flourish, prouder than if he’d just closed a multi-million-dollar deal. My voice was flat. “The apartment is flooded. Where are they staying tonight?” “Don’t you worry about that,” Connor chuckled. “I put them up in a hotel for a few days. The corporate apartment will be ready soon, and I’ll help them move in.” He poured himself a glass of water and drank it in one go. Then he looked at me, his expression suddenly complicated. “Sophia, sometimes I think you should learn from Bella.” I froze. “Learn what from her?” “Learn how to be more… like a woman.” “In that situation, your first instinct was to call maintenance, to follow protocol. Don’t you think you’re too strong, too perfect? Sometimes, I wish you could be more like her, needing me for something as simple as changing a lightbulb or unclogging a drain. Instead of how it is now, where you can make one phone call and have a dozen professionals at our door in an hour.” He sighed. “It makes me feel like a decoration in my own home.” I closed the magazine. I took a deep breath. For years, I had handled everything at home so he could pour all his energy into his career. I had never asked him to lift a finger. And now, in his eyes, my self-sufficiency had become a cold, domineering flaw? And the weeping, helpless Bella had become the standard for femininity? If he wanted to fix pipes so badly, he could have become a plumber instead of a CEO. The words rose in my throat, but I swallowed them down. Honestly, I didn’t want to fight over something so trivial. But his attitude toward Bella had already set off alarm bells in my mind. 4 I had HR pull Bella’s file. Then I had a private investigator do a little digging. It turned out, she wasn’t divorced. She was raising her son alone because her husband was in prison for armed robbery. She had likely hidden this fact to protect her child from gossip. Given her genuine hardship, I didn’t want to disrupt her work life. I kept the information to myself for the time being and didn’t mention it to Connor. Our company was always hosting events to promote a positive culture. For Family Day, the main conference room was transformed into a playground. HR ordered high-end pastries and a mountain of toys. The room was filled with the cheerful laughter of employees and their children. Bella brought her son, a five-year-old boy named Leo. He was a sturdy-looking kid who immediately fixated on the tables laden with snacks and toys. Bella, however, scanned the crowd with searching eyes. Her gaze landed on Connor, who was holding court in the center of the room. Then, she gave Leo’s arm a sharp pinch. The next second, a clear, loud voice cut through the din. “Daddy!” The boisterous room fell silent. Leo scrambled toward Connor and threw his arms around his legs. “Daddy! You’re here! I missed you so much!” A dead silence fell over the room. Employees exchanged shocked glances, their eyes darting between me and Bella. Bella rushed over, her face beet red, pretending to be flustered as she tried to pull the boy away. “Leo, don’t say that! This is Mr. Vance, not Daddy! Let go!” But Leo only clung tighter. “No! He’s just like the daddy I always imagined! Uncle Connor is so nice to me! He bought me a Transformer and took me for KFC. He is my daddy!” A Transformer? KFC? When had all this happened? My expression slowly turned to ice. I stared at Connor in silence. A flash of embarrassment crossed his face. He patted Leo’s head. “Alright, Leo, that’s enough.” Trying to diffuse the tension, he picked Leo up and forced a smile in my direction. “He’s just a kid. It’s my job to care for my employees’ children. Kids from single-parent homes are sensitive, they crave affection. Don’t take it personally. It’s just a childish outburst.” Yes, children can be innocent. But “Daddy” is not a name you just throw around. I refused to believe an adult hadn’t coached him. I turned my cold gaze on Bella. “Ms. Thorne, if your child is so desperate for a father figure, perhaps you should spend more time with him yourself. Encouraging him to claim strangers as his father is not healthy for his psychological development.” Bella’s face flushed, then paled. Humiliated by the scornful looks from her colleagues, she raised her hand and slapped Leo hard across the face. “I told you not to say that! Shut up!” she hissed. “Apologize! Apologize to Mrs. Vance right now!” Leo, stunned by the blow, burst into tears. But instead of apologizing, he glared at me with renewed fury and screamed, “I won’t! You’re a mean lady! Mommy said at home that Daddy loves us the most! You’re just an old witch who bosses him around!” His words were like a physical slap across my own face. Whispers erupted among the employees. Connor’s expression shifted from embarrassment to outright anger. “That’s enough! Sophia, what is wrong with you, picking a fight with a child?” he snapped. “Does cornering a little boy like this make you feel powerful?” 5 With that, he turned, still holding the wailing Leo, and strode out of the conference room. Bella scurried after them. The three of them looked like a perfect little family, leaving me standing alone in their wake. The room was silent. Our carefully planned Family Day was ruined. The HR manager quickly stepped in to manage the situation, and the crowd slowly dispersed. Laura, the HR manager, was a company veteran. She brought me a glass of water. “Sophia, please don’t let it get to you,” she said softly. “Anyone can see that Mr. Vance doesn’t have any improper feelings for her. He just feels sorry for them, a single mother and her son. He’s just a little too soft-hearted and has let things go too far.” When I didn’t respond, she leaned in closer and lowered her voice. “Honestly, Sophia, I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, but I’ve seen Mr. Vance secretly contacting a private jeweler. He’s designing a custom piece for your birthday next month.” “If he really had something else on his mind, he wouldn’t be going to all that trouble to surprise you. Men can just be clueless about boundaries sometimes. You two have been together for eight years. It’s not worth fighting over a woman like that.” I held the warm glass, but the chill in my fingertips wouldn’t go away. She was right. We had eight years of history. I knew Connor better than anyone. But what happened today… how was I supposed to just let it go? For the sake of those eight years, I decided to give him a chance to talk it out. I took out my phone and sent him a message. “Come home early tonight. We need to talk.” An hour later, he replied. “Leo is really upset and won’t stop crying. I’m going to take them to dinner to calm him down.” I waited at home. I waited until eleven. I opened our shared cloud storage, scrolling through photos from our years together. A picture of him as a poor college student who had saved up three months of his living expenses just to buy me a necklace I had glanced at once. A picture of him shivering in the snow, saving me a seat outside the library. In the early days of the company, when my parents disapproved of our relationship, he had held my hand and sworn, “Sophia, I will give you the best life. I will never let you down.” The more I looked, the more my heart ached, and the clearer everything became. When Connor finally came home, he acted as if nothing had happened. “Still up?” he asked, kicking off his shoes. My voice was quiet, almost gentle. “Connor, we need to talk about boundaries.” He looked exhausted. “I know what this is about. It’s about today. But Sophia, could you not have given me some face? Everyone was watching. Did you have to be so passive-aggressive in front of the entire company?” “Passive-aggressive?” I couldn’t hold it in any longer. “That child called you ‘Daddy’ in public and called me a ‘mean old witch.’ Not only did you not stop him, you stormed out with them in front of everyone. Do you have any idea what our employees are saying now?” “Let them talk! A clear conscience fears no accusation!” Connor’s temper suddenly flared. “Bella is a single mother doing her best. Leo has grown up without a father; it’s natural for him to project that onto someone. What’s wrong with me not wanting to see a child get hurt? Is it a crime to have a heart?” I stood up, my own voice rising. “Is your heart so big that it has to be spread everywhere? So big that you’ll trample on your wife’s dignity just to make someone else feel better? Tell me, Connor, is what you feel for Bella compassion, or are you in love with her?” “Sophia!” Connor’s face was flushed with anger. “How can your mind be so filthy? There is nothing between me and Bella! You really are a businessman’s daughter, aren’t you? You see conspiracies everywhere. You don’t know the first thing about simple kindness!” I was trembling with rage. “A businessman’s daughter?” “Yes, I am a businessman’s daughter. And it was this businessman’s daughter who used her own money to pave the way for you when you were being rejected by investors, when you were wandering around like a stray dog!” “It was this businessman’s daughter who used every single one of her family’s connections to apologize on your behalf when your bad decisions nearly bankrupted the company, just to save your position!” “And it was this businessman’s daughter who didn’t care that you had nothing, who went against her parents’ wishes and insisted on marrying you!” “Without this businessman’s daughter, what right would you have, Connor Vance, to parade your ‘kindness’ and play savior to another woman? Have you no shame?” The barrage of questions left him speechless. Perhaps the memories of everything we had been through together finally sank in. The angry flush drained from his face, replaced by a pale, humiliated shame. He took a deep breath and forced himself to apologize. “Sophia, don’t be angry. I admit, I’ve been paying too much attention to Bella. But I swear, you’re the only one in my heart. Honey, please, calm down, okay?” He reached for my hand. But I was still furious. Seeing him put on that loving act now just made my stomach turn. I yanked my hand away and pointed to the door. “Don’t you dare use our eight years to disgust me, Connor.” “I don’t want to see you right now. Get out!” His hand froze in mid-air, the warmth on his face turning to ice. He clenched his jaw, choosing not to argue further. “Fine, Sophia. I’m offering you an out, and you won’t take it,” he said coldly. “Have fun cooling off by yourself.”

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On the eve of my engagement, the wolf pup I raised with my own hands pinned me to the bed. He pulled a smile that looked innocent, but vicious words spilled from his mouth. “Uncle, if you dare to get engaged to that woman, tomorrow I’ll release our little video at the banquet.” 1 When I was twenty-two, I adopted twelve-year-old Julian Thorne. For six years, I took meticulous care of him as he grew up. If he wanted the stars, I gave him the stars; if he wanted the moon, I gave him the moon. I believed I treated him well. But on the eve of my engagement, he secretly drugged me. I watched as he skillfully set up the video camera, the black lens aimed straight at me like a bottomless well, sending a sudden chill down my spine. Born with a silver spoon in my mouth, a big shot in the elite circle of the capital, I’ve had smooth sailing all my life. I’ve never suffered such grievance. Immediately, I cursed in anger: “Julian, do you want to fucking die? I’ll give you a chance to redeem yourself. Take me to the hospital right now, immediately. Otherwise, when I wake up, I’ll skin you alive, chop you up, and feed you to the dogs.” Just saying this made me short of breath. The drug was potent, burning my eyes red, not to mention the other obvious changes in my body. So my words had no deterrent effect and didn’t scare Julian at all. The corners of his mouth hooked into a faint smile. Turning a deaf ear to my threats, he turned on the camera and then walked towards me. Looking at my state, his Adam’s apple rolled a few times. He raised his hand and tugged somewhat urgently at the tie around his neck—the same tie I had personally tied for him when we tried on suits together. Julian’s voice was very low, sounding like a question, but more like stating a fact. “Uncle, even if I send you to the hospital now, you won’t let me off, right?” I have to say, Julian knows me too well. Once the drug wears off, I will immediately beat this bastard until he’s looking for his teeth all over the floor, making him regret the messy thing he did. I also regretted not seeing Julian’s abnormality earlier. If I had noticed earlier, I definitely wouldn’t have taken the glass of milk he handed me. While I was pondering, Julian had already sat on the edge of the bed. I almost scrambled back to the head of the bed in a pathetic manner, looking at him warily. I took a deep breath, suppressing the raging fire in my heart, trying to make my tone sound sincere and reliable. “This time, I mean it. As long as you take me to the hospital, I can let bygones be bygones about you drugging me.” He sneered, his tone suddenly intense: “Heh! Let bygones be bygones? Uncle, you forgot, you promised me that we would live together for the rest of our lives! You clearly said you wouldn’t find me an aunt, but you’re getting engaged tomorrow! “You lied to me first, what right do you have to say let bygones be bygones?!” Julian’s face was hideous and twisted, as if trapped in his own logical loop and unable to break free. Before I could speak, he lunged forward, grabbed my ankle, and dragged me over. I wanted to struggle, but the cool touch on my ankle made me dazed for a moment. By the time I came to my senses, I was already pinned under Julian. He pulled out his belt and firmly tied my hands to the headboard. His legs firmly suppressed my resistance. I was like fish on a chopping board, at anyone’s mercy. 2 Unwilling to give up, I continued to persuade him: “If you don’t want me to get married, Uncle won’t get married. It’s no big deal, no need to make it so ugly. Be obedient, untie the belt.” You bastard, you better untie it for me, or I will definitely whip you to death, tear your face apart, chop you into mincemeat, and throw you into the sea to feed the fish. “Too late.” Julian raised his hand to touch my face. I jerked my head to avoid it. The bed shook violently, and the ring box on the bedside table was knocked to the ground. Seeing the ring rolling on the ground, Julian suddenly went crazy. He pinched my face, leaned down fiercely, and blocked my lips. The cold and soft touch made me greedily want to take more. I rubbed the skin on the back of my hand hard. The pain gave me a moment of clarity. Then, taking advantage of his intoxicated kiss, I bit the tongue he stuck in. Julian suddenly got up, covering his mouth, staring at me. I looked at him with disdain: “You dare glare at me? Careful I don’t gouge your eyes out. Ungrateful wolf, all your education went to the dogs. Do you know what you’re doing? I’m your fucking uncle. Seriously counting, I should be considered your adoptive father. “All these years, without me, you would have been beaten to death in that dark alley like a dog long ago. It was me, I saved you, I gave you money, let you study, and this is how you fucking repay me?!” Julian covered his mouth, looking down without saying a word. I thought he found his conscience. Just as I wanted to shout for him to let me go quickly, the potent drug made my consciousness chaotic again. This was not a good sign. If this continued, I would definitely not be able to bear it and would humbly and pathetically beg that bastard. “Forget it, let’s not talk about this, you untie first… mmm…” This madman Julian kissed me again as if he didn’t know pain. I tried to bite him but failed; instead, I bit my own tongue until it bled. He kissed fiercely and aggressively, as if he wanted to swallow me whole. My desperate struggles couldn’t escape his movements of unbuttoning my clothes. Realizing that I couldn’t avoid tonight’s matter, I simply closed my eyes in resignation, only struggling one last time to negotiate with him nicely: “Turn off… the camera.” He panted heavily, his hot breath spraying on the side of my neck. He turned his head and bit me lightly. That was the common carotid artery. I felt like my lifeline was being held, instantly stiffening, daring not move. His voice was hoarse: “No.” He looked up at me, revealing an innocent smile that an eighteen-year-old should have, but his words made my hair stand on end: “Uncle, if you dare to get engaged to that woman, then tomorrow, I will release our little video at the banquet. Uncle knows what to do, right?” Do your mom! I was burning with anger, completely mad. Before I could start cursing, Julian, as if expecting it, immediately lowered his head to seal my lips, blocking all my dirty words in my throat. 3 My consciousness gradually blurred with Julian’s movements. In a trance, I saw him take my phone and dial a familiar number. I instantly sobered up and tried to snatch it. Julian’s face darkened instantly, and he slammed me back onto the bed with his hand. “Uncle.” He moved his body threateningly, and I immediately groaned. “You should know what to say, right?” The threat was strong. I knew it was best not to provoke him now. The call connected, and Claire’s cool voice came from the other end: “Damian, what’s wrong?” I cleared my throat and answered her: “Tomorrow’s engagement party might need to be canceled. I have something to deal with now, I’ll explain to you later.” There was silence on the other end for a moment, then she said: “Okay.” Julian hung up the phone with satisfaction, the expression in his eyes softening, inexplicably gentle. He leaned down and kissed the corner of my mouth, smiling: “Uncle is so good.” I gritted my teeth and ground my molars. A tiger down in the plains is bullied by dogs. It doesn’t matter. Wait until the drug wears off, I’ll see how long you can smile. You bastard, laugh all you want. When the time comes, see if I don’t break all your white teeth. Julian seemed to know what I was thinking, ingratiatingly licking my lips that were red, swollen, and hot from sucking. “Uncle, don’t be angry anymore. As long as you don’t get married, you can punish me however you want. I’ll take it gladly.” He looked at me, the look in his eyes very serious. I knew he meant it. But I also knew that after tonight, we wouldn’t be in a simple uncle-nephew relationship. Once a dog tastes meat, it will turn into a wolf, let alone a wolf pretending to be a dog? I could foresee what would happen between us. Either coaxed into bed by him or tied into bed by him, using both soft and hard tactics, using all means. I turned my head slightly, avoiding his overly passionate gaze, and didn’t answer him. My attitude completely angered Julian. He narrowed his eyes, then forcefully gripped my chin, turning my face back to look at him. His eyes were icy, and the surrounding temperature dropped instantly. We looked at each other for a long time. Suddenly, Julian laughed, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes, making me feel creepy. He lowered his head close to my ear and said sinisterly: “Uncle, still thinking about getting married, huh?” He looked like he was about to lose his mind. I knew I shouldn’t provoke him at this time, but I really didn’t want to agree with his words. Because a promise is a lifetime thing. Julian would take it seriously, just like when I promised him I wouldn’t get married, and he took it seriously. 4 At that time, Julian had just arrived at the Sterling family. At twelve years old, he had suffered a lot. His father was a gambler who disappeared after owing a huge debt. His mother remarried immediately, leaving Julian to grow up alone and helpless. The day I met him, I happened to close a big deal, successfully shutting everyone else up and becoming the head of the Sterling family. So, in a good mood, I meddled and saved Julian, who was beaten half to death for stealing money. I asked him: “Why steal money?” He was stunned for a moment, seemingly embarrassed, his face slightly red. He pursed his lips and spoke after a long time: “Because I was hungry. Restaurants don’t hire child labor, and I couldn’t beat the homeless for trash cans. I was so hungry that I couldn’t stand it, so I thought of stealing money.” I had nothing to say. Because I had never lived a hard life, I couldn’t understand. But I was in a good mood that day, so I simply took him home, treating it as a good deed for the day, accumulating some virtue for myself, striving to be born into a rich and good family in the next life. Getting along gradually, I found Julian to be very considerate. No matter how late I came back from social engagements, he would get up and thoughtfully prepare honey water for me and massage my temples. Later, a psychologist friend told me that Julian was deliberately pleasing me, probably because he had been abandoned by his parents before and was afraid of being discarded again. So, when I came home at 3 a.m. again, and Julian heard the noise and ran downstairs, I stopped him: “Don’t need you, go to sleep.” Julian’s face turned pale instantly, and tears suddenly fell in big drops, looking pitiful and fragile. I was stunned on the spot. I just thought of that friend’s words and wanted him not to deliberately please me anymore. I didn’t know if my tone was too fierce or if this kid thought of something else. Anyway, he shrank at the top of the stairs, crying pitifully. I immediately scratched my hair and walked over, patting his shoulder somewhat clumsily. I’m not good at comforting people. After racking my brains, I said to him: “Not chasing you away. You don’t need to be so cautious and cramped, nor do you need to please me. Don’t worry, as long as you do your own things well, I won’t abandon you.” He looked at me with red eyes, a hint of choking in his voice: “Then if you get married in the future and have children, will you not want me anymore? If the little aunt doesn’t like me, will you also hate me and then abandon me?” That year, I was twenty-two, just the right age for marriage. Many people who wanted to climb up to the Sterling family tried to introduce partners to me. For me, marriage or love had to be ranked after my career. Although the Sterling family was strong enough, it wasn’t without rivals. For me, the most important thing was to continuously expand the power of the Sterling family, making other families unable to catch up, making people tremble just hearing the name “Damian Sterling.” At that time, I only had a career in my eyes. Illusory things like love were not within my consideration at all. So when he asked that, to coax him and stop him from crying, I promised him: “Don’t worry, there won’t be a little aunt.” He raised his teary eyes and asked me: “Then in the future, will it be just the two of us living together?” I thought Julian was young and had been abandoned, so he lacked security. When he grew up, he naturally wouldn’t be so dependent on me, so I nodded. But I didn’t expect that after his feelings changed, this casual promise would become a sharp blade stabbing me, making even my defense seem pale and weak. I watched his face getting darker because he didn’t get an answer for a long time, chuckled lightly, and answered: “Yes.” Sure enough, Julian went crazy again. His eyes turned red with anger, and he punished me unrestrainedly all night. He didn’t let me go until the sky turned slightly white.

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I dated a guy for a year and ended up financially free. Why? Because my boyfriend was a rich heir with zero brain cells and a wandering eye. Every time I caught him cheating, he wired me a hundred grand. What could I do? Naturally, I chose to forgive him. That is, until I overheard him trash-talking me to his friends: “Chloe is just a gold digger. Pay her enough, and she’ll do anything.” Oh really? I decided to take the money and run. But he wouldn’t let go—crying, screaming, threatening to end it all. Eventually, the drama reached the ears of his ice-cold older brother. The brother cornered me at my apartment door. The Iceberg spoke: “My brother’s actually broke. You should try digging for gold with me instead.” 1 When Julian was caught hooking up with a D-list celebrity in his car, I was busy scouring the banquet hall for non-alcoholic wipes to clean my bag. That bag was last month’s apology gift—the price for catching him at a hotel with an Instagram model. He’d thrown in a hundred thousand dollars as “hush money” to keep me from snitching to his stiff, emotionless older brother. But tonight, at this so-called high-society gala, some klutz had spilled red wine all over it. The stain was aggressively soaking into the leather. My heart was bleeding. I wasn’t planning to keep it. I was going to wear it once for Julian to see, then flip it on a resale site for at least thirty grand. Now, it looked like a total loss. Coming to this stuffy event with him was just bad luck. “Cleaning up the spoils of war, Miss Evans?” A sleazy whistle came from behind me. I didn’t need to turn around to know it was Julian’s posse—a group of trust-fund idiots with flat personalities. I ignored them. But high-society brats can’t stand being ignored. One of them stepped right into my personal space. He tapped his phone screen and played a voice note sent to Julian: “Your girlfriend is looking for you.” Then, with a smug grin, he played Julian’s reply. His voice was floaty, trembling with a weird mix of intoxication and exertion. “Don’t worry about her… ungh… Chloe is the easiest kind of gold digger… pay her enough and she’d lick my boots.” The sticky sound of heavy breathing filled the silence. Someone patted my shoulder. “Check the parking garage. Your boy Julian isn’t known for his stamina. He’ll be done in a minute.” I knew the drill. It was payday. Everyone looked down on Julian, and the sad part was, he never gave them a reason not to. By the time I took the elevator down—maybe three minutes—he was already in his car, panting and pulling up his pants. I snapped a photo. Even through the window, I could see Julian’s flushed cheeks and damp hair. The D-list celebrity didn’t look tired at all, just acting the part of “post-coital bliss.” She looked familiar—famous for her elven looks and corpse-like acting skills. I’d seen them flirting earlier. Who knew he couldn’t even wait until the gala ended? I knocked on the glass. Julian jumped. He looked sober instantly, his handsome, youthful face twisting into illogical shock. I don’t know why he was surprised; did he think the car windows were magical cloaks of invisibility? “Chloe? What are you doing here?” “Do I need to explain?” I waved my phone, showing him the fresh photo. Julian scrambled out of the car, grabbing my wrist. His palm was clammy—sweat, or something worse. “Chloe, listen to me.” I nodded, signaling I was listening, but I yanked my hand away. He didn’t say anything else. After a long silence, he just choked out, “I had too much to drink.” The silence lasted so long that the starlet had time to dress, fix her makeup, and lean against the car door with a smirk, arms crossed. Julian, speechless and panicked, fumbled with his phone. “Chloe, don’t be mad. I’ll wire you money. Go buy some bags, jewelry, or take a trip…” Suddenly, I felt an overwhelming exhaustion. I calculated the balance in my bank account. Yeah. It was time to be tired of this. 2 To be fair, Julian had saved me once. When I met him, I was working at a car wash. To avoid the constant sexual harassment from my male coworkers, I started dressing hideously on day two. I even bought a pair of ugly, thick-rimmed glasses. But I hadn’t mentioned this: I am objectively beautiful. And specifically poor. A beautiful girl with no money is like a child holding a gold bar in a busy market—you can hide, but you can’t escape the covetous eyes. The day Julian showed up, the guys had “accidentally” sprayed me with the high-pressure hose. I looked like a drowned rat. My t-shirt was soaked under my waterproof apron, clinging to my bra. They laughed and told me to just take it off. I stood there, freezing, refusing to move. One of them got close and pinched my cheek. “So you aren’t wearing makeup. You really are that pale. Soft, too.” I was mentally calculating if my remaining $60 could cover the damages if I punched them. That’s when Julian honked. His car was finished, parked nearby. I didn’t know how long he’d been sitting there or how much he’d seen. His voice was impatient. “Who washed this? The interior is still damp.” The guys shoved me forward. “Sorry, sir. The new girl is clumsy. We’ll have her fix it right up for you.” I shook the water off my clothes. Standing by his door, I hesitated. Should I change first? I didn’t want to ruin his leather seats. Julian chuckled softly, leaning down toward me. “You shake off water like a puppy.” I froze, unsure if he was mocking me or being kind. Then, his smile faded. He reached into the back seat and handed me a shopping bag. It was a brand I didn’t recognize, clothes still with tags. “Go change. Those guys are pricks. They did that on purpose.” When I hesitated, he scratched his head, looking embarrassed. “Just broke up with my girlfriend. Never got to give her these. Don’t worry, I’m not a creep.” By the time I changed and came back out, Julian was gone. I snuck a look at the customer log to find his number. It took me until the next day to work up the courage to text him. I thanked him for standing up for me and told him I’d washed and sanitized the clothes. If he didn’t mind, I could return them. Originally, to show some backbone, I wanted to buy them from him. But after Googling the brand and realizing the price was my annual salary, I decided returning them was the wiser option. Julian replied quickly, asking to meet at an overpriced coffee shop near the university. We met a few times after that. I learned—or confirmed—that his family was filthy rich. He was born into love and money, a genetic lottery winner with a trust fund and model looks. In the first month, he got me a job as a library assistant at the university. No dirty jokes, just stressed students with dark circles under their eyes. By month three, we were officially dating. I drove Julian’s new sports car back to the car wash, purely out of spite. I bossed around the guys who used to harass me. I thought it would feel amazing. Okay, it felt a little amazing. But the thrill faded fast. The petty satisfaction was replaced by emptiness when I saw the speculation in their eyes. I was a fox borrowing the tiger’s might, sitting in someone else’s car, with nowhere to go. Was shallow revenge really all I wanted? 3 After six months with Julian, I told him I wanted to study. My parents were village delinquents who never legally married. When I was five, they left for the city to work, taking my clever little brother and the family dog. My dad said the city was dangerous, full of cars that could crush a person flat. So, they left me in the village to “enjoy life.” I grew up wild, eating scraps from neighbors because I was pretty and had a sweet mouth. When I was deciding between a factory job or a vocational school, the village matchmaker tried to sell me off. She said the family was “honest.” Turned out, the groom drooled for eight hours a day. That night, I packed a bag and ran to the city. Then I met Julian. Someone like Julian, who had been forced into elite schools since birth, couldn’t understand why anyone would beg to study. Just like he couldn’t understand how eight people could live in a ten-square-meter room the first time he visited my dorm. But I was grateful for his naive privilege. Because our worlds were so different, I was a novelty to him. Julian thought my desire to learn was “cute.” He looked into it and told me to take the IELTS exam first. He promised that once I passed the language requirement, he’d hire an agency to get me into a school abroad. I was ecstatic. I started teaching myself. My foundation was weak, but I was smart and desperate. I memorized vocabulary whenever I wasn’t with Julian. Julian got tired of watching me struggle with flashcards, so he paid for a two-month enclosed IELTS boot camp. When I first entered the camp, Julian called me fifty times a day, reporting his schedule like a loyal puppy. He whispered sweet nothings, and at nineteen, I blushed and whispered them back. My brain was full of vocabulary and grammar, but my heart was full of hope for our future. I thought: Julian is highly educated. A high school dropout doesn’t match him. Even if I’ll never have his money, I can match his education. Once I get a degree and a job at a foreign company, I won’t need Julian to be my safety net. But halfway through the month, the calls stopped coming. He got “busy.” His schedule became vague. He said he loved me, then disappeared for three days. It was like the hot water in a shared apartment—unreliable because someone else was using it. When I finished the camp two months later, he picked me up looking glowing and refreshed. His left ear was pierced with a row of black studs, the skin around them red and inflamed. I later found out he’d spent that month chasing an edgy girl who loved tattoos and piercings. His love came in intense, weird waves. To get close to her, he’d punched holes in his own body. It was the edgy girl who called me, annoyed by him. “Watch your boyfriend. He’s not loyal.” I cried and confronted Julian. Crying was pathetic, but I couldn’t stop. The panic of being abandoned swallowed me whole. I was young. It was my first love. I thought I’d met a prince. I thought Julian was my savior. He was gentle, energetic, and worldly. I’d never met anyone like him in my gray little life. He took me to French restaurants where I didn’t understand the plating, and just as I felt discouraged, he’d drag me back to his massive penthouse and cook me a comforting, homestyle meal. We washed dishes together. In his 5,000-square-foot apartment, I ironically felt “at home.” But after six months, the dream broke. I realized the penthouse wasn’t my home, and there was no prince. I broke up with Julian. I moved out and rented a tiny, north-facing room in a shared apartment. Julian, surprisingly, wouldn’t let go. He cried, knelt, blocked me at the library, and sent massive bouquets of flowers to my cramped rental every day. After a month of silence from me, Julian started drinking heavily. That’s when his infamous older brother finally came looking for me. 4 “Get back together with Julian.” Adrian Pei was the traditional kind of rich—the kind who only spoke in commands. I thought he was insane. “Your brother cheated on me. What right do you have to dictate this relationship?” Adrian leaned back in his leather executive chair, my background check spread open on his desk. His expression was bland, looking at me like I was a tantrum-throwing toddler. “Because of you, my brother is depressed and drinking himself into a stupor. I don’t like seeing that.” “Then teach your brother some discipline.” I got up to leave, but his bodyguards blocked the door. “You want to study, don’t you? Do you have the money for that?” Adrian asked coldly. I didn’t. But I could work. “I’ll pay for your education.” I stared at this man—better looking than Julian, but infinitely colder—wondering what his game was. Adrian seemed satisfied by my hesitation. “Treat it like acting. Keep him happy. Stop him from acting suicidal. You’re with him for the money anyway, right? I’ll give you money. He has a three-minute attention span; he’s never dated anyone longer than a year. Once he gets bored and wants to break up, just go with the flow.” When I stayed silent, Adrian assumed I was weighing the pros and cons. He added, “Don’t worry, he won’t be stuck on you forever. I’ll be introducing him to girls from appropriate families soon.” Appropriate families. The words floated down and settled on my head like lead. Adrian was eight years older than Julian. Their father died young, so Adrian took over the family empire early, accustomed to playing the dictatorial patriarch. He had always known about me but watched from above like a god—treating our relationship like a child playing house with a gold digger. The humiliation was sudden and sharp. I wanted to scream. I wasn’t in it for the money. Julian had money, but it was Adrian’s money. The family’s money. Julian was a nice enough trust fund baby, but mostly he spent money on himself. The biggest thing he spent on me was that boot camp. Rich people jingling their coin purses is just low-cost mating behavior. Julian, despite his youth, knew that well. I stiffened my neck, mimicking Adrian’s arrogance. I looked him up and down with the same rudeness he showed me. Then I squeezed out a very adult smile. “How much are you paying?”

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At my birthday party, my parents presented me with their gift. A DNA test. One that said I wasn’t their biological daughter. My mother’s smile was glacial. “Sharon, since you’re not our real daughter, it’s time you paid us back for the cost of raising you for seventeen years.” My father scoffed. “No wonder you don’t look a thing like me. You’ve been mooching off the Prescott family name for far too long. Starting today, you’re the help. We’ll pay you five hundred dollars a month to work off your debt. Room and board not included.” I didn’t cry or protest. I just nodded calmly. After all, just last night, I’d been standing outside their door and heard everything. I heard my sister, Cecilia, cooing as she clung to their arms. “Mommy, Daddy, my only birthday wish is to be your one and only daughter, to have all of your love, just for me. So, can you make my sister be our maid for a year? Please?” My father’s face had melted with affection. “Of course. Anything for you.” My mother had smiled and added, “For this whole year, Mommy and Daddy belong only to our precious Ceci.” I had leaned against the wall, my eyes stinging with a sharp, hot ache. They had forgotten. Cecilia and I are twins. We have the same birthday. And my birthday wish? To leave the Prescott house. Not for a year—forever. 1 Cecilia gasped, her hand flying to her mouth in mock horror. “Sharon! No wonder you’re so plain, you don’t look like Mom or Dad at all. So you really are an impostor.” Her voice was loud, her performance theatrical. It was as if she’d completely forgotten we were twins, that anyone with eyes could see the resemblance. “Oh, wait, you’re not my sister at all. You’re just some stray they picked up off the street.” My mother’s expression was distant, cold. “Sharon, now that the truth is out, you’re not a Prescott. This party is for our darling daughter, Cecilia. You have no right to be here.” I glanced up at Cecilia, her face glowing with triumph. She wore a custom-made princess gown, and on her head sat a tiara that cost as much as a house. Then I looked down at myself. My faded shirt and worn-out jeans, the cuffs frayed. A bitter smile touched my lips. The right to be here. I’d never really had it. How can you lose something you never possessed? My father’s voice boomed. “Starting today, you’ll move into the servant’s quarters. Consider it a final kindness. Until you find your real parents, you can work here as a maid. I’ll pay you five hundred a month, no room and board, to pay back the seventeen years of expenses you’ve cost us.” Whispers rippled through the crowd. I was a pathetic clown on display, trapped under a sea of mocking, scornful eyes. I bent down to pick up my backpack. In a flash, Cecilia lunged forward and yanked it from my grasp. The safety pin holding my broken zipper together popped, and the contents of my bag spilled across the floor. “Aha!” Cecilia shrieked. “I knew it! You’ve been stealing from us!” Amidst the scattered books lay a single, pink-wrapped sanitary pad. Mom looked away, a flicker of discomfort on her face. “Ceci, let it go. It’s just a pad.” Cecilia stamped her foot. “No, Mom! I’m the only daughter now. Who the hell is she, anyway? She’s been freeloading off us for years, and now she’s stealing? I say she doesn’t deserve it, and that’s final.” Seeing her daughter upset, my mother immediately softened. “Okay, okay, darling, don’t be angry. You’re right. You’re my only precious girl now. You can do whatever you want.” Satisfied, Cecilia ground her heel into the pad, twisting it into the polished floor. “There. I don’t want it anymore. You can have it.” I stared at the pad, now smeared with dirt and a footprint, and my throat felt like it was stuffed with wet cotton, heavy and suffocating. In the end, I bent down and gathered only my books. After the party, Maria, the housekeeper, led me to the storage room. It was a tiny space, maybe fifty square feet, containing nothing but a wooden plank bed piled with junk and a single, rusty window. Maria stood at the door, hesitating. “Miss… Sharon. Mr. and Mrs. Prescott… they remember the good things. Once they come to their senses, you’ll be Miss Prescott again…” Before she could finish, two cockroaches scurried out from a corner and vanished. I pretended not to see the embarrassment on her face. “Thank you, I understand.” Maria shook her head and left, muttering under her breath. “They look so much alike. How could she not be theirs? So strange…” I sat on the plank bed, staring blankly out the window into the pitch-black night. It’s okay. Just one more year, and I can leave this place for good. Later that night, a dull ache throbbed in my lower abdomen. Without any pads, I had to make do with wadded-up toilet paper. As I was leaving the bathroom, I heard my parents’ hushed voices. “Honey, do you think we’re being too hard on Sharon? What if she starts to hate us? She is our daughter, after all.” My father snorted. “She’s always bullying Ceci. As the older sister, she should know better. A little hardship will do her good.” “And once Ceci has had her fun this year, we’ll just find an excuse. Say the DNA lab made a mistake. She’ll be so thrilled to be a Prescott again, she won’t even remember this.” My fingertips went ice-cold. The thought was so absurd it was almost funny. What gave them the right to think they could grind me into dust and I’d just obediently wait for them to pick me back up? 2 The next day, I went out to buy pads. At the register, the card was declined. Insufficient funds. But I knew I had two hundred dollars saved on it. When I got back to the villa and pushed open the door, I found the three of them at the dining table, laughing together. A gift bag sat on the table. My mother was stroking a silk scarf, her touch full of affection. “Oh, Ceci, you’re such a sweetheart. You even buy your mother gifts. This makes me so happy.” My father turned a plastic travel mug over in his hands, grinning from ear to ear. “I love mine too. That’s my girl.” Cecilia pouted, leaning against my mother’s shoulder. “But they only cost two hundred dollars. You’re not mad they’re so cheap, are you?” My mother shook her head instantly. “Of course not, darling. Anything from you is a treasure, even if it only cost two dollars.” My father chimed in, using the opportunity to belittle me. “Exactly. Not like your sister. All she does is spend our money. Never bought us a single thing. Such an ungrateful brat. She could never compare to my Ceci…” They noticed me standing there and fell silent. Cecilia tilted her head, a malicious grin spreading across her face. That two hundred dollars… It was my allowance for the past two months. It was all the money I had in the world. A chill washed over me. Something inside my head snapped with a deafening crack. The next thing I knew, I had grabbed Cecilia, my hand raised to strike. But before my palm could connect, my father sent me flying with a vicious kick. My spine slammed into the sharp corner of the coffee table. The pain was so intense that my vision went black for a second. Cecilia held up her arm, which had a faint red mark on it, and started wailing as if the world were ending. “Daddy, Mommy, it hurts so much! I think my arm is broken!” My mother screamed, “Quick, call an ambulance!” “No time for an ambulance!” my father shot back. “I’ll drive her to the hospital myself.” Cecilia pointed a trembling finger at me, still crumpled on the floor. “I don’t want to go in the car! That stray hurt me. I want her to carry me to the hospital. On her back.” The nearest hospital was twelve miles away. My mother’s eyes, now fixed on me, were chips of ice. “You’re a nobody with no parents. We fed you and clothed you for seventeen years, and this is how you repay us? You dare to touch my daughter? You’ll do as Ceci says.” When I struggled to get up, my father hauled me to my feet. “Stop faking it. It was just a little bump. Now get Cecilia on your back and get going. If her injury gets any worse, I swear I’ll throw you out of this house for good.” I believed him. But I couldn’t leave. Not yet. So I hoisted Cecilia onto my back and began the staggering walk to the hospital. My father drove slowly behind us, the car crawling along the pavement. He kept shouting, “Sharon, hold her steady! If you dare drop my precious daughter, I’ll skin you alive!” My mother complained from the passenger seat, “Walk faster! Haven’t you eaten? Don’t you dare let my baby’s injury get worse.” Cecilia, draped over my back, whispered gleefully in my ear. “See? No one in this family loves you. You’re just an unwanted leech.” Words like that used to cut me to the bone. But now, I think I’d accumulated so much pain that I was just… numb. When she got no reaction from me, Cecilia fell silent. But just as we were nearing the hospital, I felt a sharp, piercing pain in my back. She had plunged a safety pin, hidden in her pocket, deep into my flesh. I cried out, stumbling forward, and we both crashed to the ground. My parents slammed the car to a halt on the side of the road. They scrambled out, lifted Cecilia from on top of me, and rushed her into the emergency room without a backward glance. My mother, trailing behind, looked over her shoulder at my ashen face. “We’re already at the hospital,” she snapped impatiently. “Find a doctor yourself if you need one. We don’t have time for you.” In the end, I didn’t go inside. I had no money. Too exhausted to walk back, I just sat on the hospital steps until night fell, then finally made my way back to the villa. They were already home. And standing with them in the living room was a haggard-looking couple, their clothes grimy, their posture timid. “You’re just in time,” my father said, gesturing to the pair. “These are your biological parents. You can go with them now.” 3 The silence in the room was absolute. My mother came over and took my hand, though she couldn’t meet my eyes. “Sharon, we were a family once. This is hard for me, too. But now that your real parents have been found, there’s no reason for you to stay at the Prescott house any longer.” I thought I had no tears left to cry. But they streamed down my face anyway. These were the people I had cherished, the people I had placed at the very center of my world for seventeen years. And now, they wouldn’t even grant me a corner of their home to exist in. My tears seemed to make my mother feel guilty. She reached out to wipe them away, but Cecilia caught her arm. “Congratulations, sister,” Cecilia chirped. “You’re not a parentless stray anymore.” The woman standing nearby, the one I was supposed to call my mother, scurried over and grabbed my hand. Her grimy fingernails dug into my skin as she began to wail dramatically. “Oh, my daughter! Mommy’s finally found you! Come home with Mommy, quick!” The man, my supposed father, started dragging me toward the door. “That’s right, let’s go home. We’ve troubled Mr. and Mrs. Prescott for too long. We can’t overstay our welcome.” “Wait,” Cecilia said, her eyes glinting mischievously. “Sister, finding your real parents is a big deal. Don’t you think you should kneel and formally accept them? Or… are you ashamed of them because they’re poor? Do you look down on them?” I froze, turning to my parents. “Is that what you think I should do? Kneel to them?” They both looked away. Cecilia kept prodding. “Go on, kneel! We’re all watching.” I laughed. Something inside me, something I had been holding together for years, shattered into a million pieces. I dropped to my knees, but I faced my parents. I bowed my head to the floor, once, hard. “Our debt as parent and child is settled. From this moment on, I have nothing to do with the Prescott family.” My parents exchanged a look, a flicker of unease in their eyes. But I was already on my feet, turning to leave with my ‘real parents.’ My mother ran after me, her voice a hollow bluff. “It’s not settled! Not until… not until you pay back every penny we spent on you for the last seventeen years!” I stopped but didn’t turn back. “Fine,” I said softly. They thought they had spent a fortune on me. But they forgot. The daughter who was showered with affection, the one who was raised on endless streams of money, was Cecilia. And me? My allowance was three hundred dollars a month. And most of that was extorted by Cecilia, who got thirty thousand a month. If I refused to give it to her, she would run home crying, telling them I was organizing classmates to bully and isolate her. I was locked in my room countless times, denied meals. One night, during a torrential downpour, Cecilia claimed I was driving her to the brink of suicide. They made me stand outside in the rain all night. My fever spiked to 104 degrees, and no one cared. It was always like that, for as long as I could remember. A single word from Cecilia determined my guilt or innocence, my happiness, my life. My dignity. My explanations, my tears, my pain… they were worthless in this house. Just like me. Cheap. That night, I moved into my ‘real parents” apartment in a run-down tenement. There were no spare rooms, no extra blankets. I spent the night curled up on the floor of the only bathroom. The window, patched with newspaper, was cracked and let in a constant, chilling draft. The next day, I woke up dizzy and burning with a high fever. Through a haze of delirium, I heard the woman’s panicked voice on the phone. “Mr. Prescott? Mrs. Prescott? The… the girl, she has a fever! It’s 104!” “Well, what are you waiting for? Take her to a hospital!” The phone was on speaker, and Cecilia’s voice came through, sharp and clear. “Mom, Dad, she just left last night and now she has a fever? That’s too much of a coincidence. It’s obviously a pity play to test you. If you fall for it, you’re playing right into her hands.” A long silence followed. Then, my father’s cold voice cut through the air. “Don’t do anything. She’s the one who said she wants nothing to do with us. Let the ungrateful brat learn her lesson.” My mother’s voice was full of impatience. “She’s your daughter now. Stop calling us for every little thing. We’re busy getting ready for our world trip with our darling daughter. Goodbye.” No one came for me. I was left to waste away in that squalid apartment. With my last ounce of strength, I clawed my way to the door, crawled into the hallway, and then the world went black.

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The day my boyfriend won his gold medal. I was so thrilled I stayed up all night. I’d baked a cake and was hiding behind the curtains, ready to surprise him. Instead, I overheard him talking to a friend. And with a casual, careless tone, he revealed the secret he’d kept from me for four years. “At the old man’s family gala,” he said, “I’m going to show up with his very pregnant ‘stepdaughter.’ That’ll be a nice little surprise for him and that woman, don’t you think?” The words hung in the air as he slammed the door behind him. A gust of wind billowed the curtains, revealing me. The cake in my hands slipped, crashing to the floor and splintering into a dozen pieces. So that was it. The four years we’d spent together, the love I thought we shared, was nothing more than a long, calculated revenge plot. Our four years of affection were a lie. His promises of a future for me and our child were a lie. His plan to take me home to meet his family was just a setup to humiliate my mother. His stepmother. 1. The night air was bitingly cold. I picked up my phone, my fingers trembling as I dialed my mother’s number. My voice shook. “Mom, you told me once that my stepfather has a son who refuses to come home.” “What… what’s his name?” The line was noisy on her end, but my mother’s voice was gentle. “His name is Addison Mackinnon.” My heart plummeted into an abyss. The phone slipped from my grasp and clattered on the floor. My mother’s voice, now on speaker, sounded both warm and piercingly cruel. “He hasn’t been home in years. All alone out there… he’s a pitiable boy, really. Your stepfather mentioned he just won a big award, a real hero for the country! Why do you ask, sweetheart?” Addison’s voice echoed in my head, the words he’d spoken in our living room just moments before. “Her mother was a homewrecker who drove my own mom to a car crash with the stress. It caused my grandfather to have a fatal heart attack. She destroyed my family, and I will make her pay.” The venom in his voice was like thunder in my ears. He really was my stepfather’s son. Tears welled up, hot and fast. I took a shaky breath, forcing a smile I didn’t feel. “No reason, Mom. Just curious.” After hanging up, I shakily got to my feet and cleaned up the ruined cake. I walked into the bedroom and found the blue gift box Addison treasured, the one he kept hidden away. On the phone earlier, Addison had mentioned a name I’d never heard before. Vivian. In four years together, I never knew she existed. But inside the box were stacks of love letters, all written in Addison’s hand, all addressed to her. My hands shook as I opened an envelope. The pages were filled with a profound, undeniable love for a woman named Vivian. A single tear fell, splashing onto the ink. I tilted my head back, blinking rapidly, trying to stop the flood, but it was no use. The tears fell relentlessly, a quiet storm mirroring the downpour outside. At two in the morning, a cool draft swept through the apartment as the door opened. Addison, dressed in a black shirt, flipped on the lights, his long-fingered hands graceful even in their weariness. In the dim, warm light, I sat on the sofa, watching him. He looked exhausted but triumphant. “Addison,” I asked, my voice flat. “Who is Vivian?” Just before, on the phone, Addison had coldly sealed my fate. “She doesn’t deserve to have my child. After I get my revenge, I’ll make her get rid of it. Vivian is coming back to the country soon, and I won’t let this woman interfere with our relationship.” At the mention of her name, Addison’s tired eyes narrowed, locking onto me. “How do you know about her?” I had put the box and the letters back where I found them. I only held up the bookmark he’d been using for years. My voice was hoarse. “It’s written right here. ‘A gift from Vivian.’” He had cherished that bookmark for three years. It had come with a bracelet, the one he wore on his wrist every single day. He never took it off. I had asked about it once, and he had just gazed at it tenderly. “It was a gift from an older sister who was very kind to me when I was young.” My doubts had vanished then. I didn’t press further. I never imagined his kind “sister” was actually his secret love. 2. Addison’s face darkened as he carefully snatched the bookmark from my hand. “What gives you the right to touch my things?” he snapped. “Clara, do you have any idea how important this is to me?” It was the first time he had ever raised his voice at me. My eyes reddened. “How important?” He gently placed the bookmark back inside his book. For a man so tall and imposing, standing at six-foot-two, a flicker of vulnerability crossed his features. “Ten years ago, when I ran away from home… if it wasn’t for the person who gave me this, I might have died that year.” As if realizing he’d said too much, he looked back at me, his expression hardening slightly. “She’s my savior, Clara.” A bitter smile touched my lips. “Are you sure she’s just your savior?” Addison frowned. “Of course.” In four years, Addison and I had never fought. He was the national hero, the Olympic champion. I was the acclaimed ballerina, a gold medalist from a prestigious international company. The world saw us as a perfect match, destined for each other. But today, on the day he won his greatest prize, when I was twelve weeks pregnant with our child, I had to overhear those words. I had to find those letters, overflowing with a love that wasn’t for me. I had to learn that our four years of seemingly perfect love were just an elaborate lie, a meticulously crafted trap for my mother. The pain was so sharp it was hard to breathe. I had always known my stepfather had a son, one who disapproved of the marriage and refused to come home. I just never knew that son was Addison. The Addison who had filled my entire college life, the Addison I had loved with all my heart for four years. Tears streamed down my face. My voice was a whisper. “Addison… in these four years, have you ever lied to me?” A flicker of panic crossed his eyes. He reached out and wiped a tear from my cheek, his gaze a storm of complex emotions. “Never, Clara. I love you so much. How could I ever lie to you?” Addison was devastatingly handsome. With his captivating eyes, high-bridged nose, and sharp, elegant features, he possessed an untamable air. Fresh off his Olympic victory, he was more radiant than ever. And this brilliant man had seemingly given his whole heart to me. At our graduation, in front of everyone, he’d announced his intention to marry me and start a family. He willingly gave me every cent he’d ever won from his competitions. Everyone said he was a good man. I believed it too. But his next words sent my already cold heart plunging into an abyss. “Next week, I’m taking you home to meet my parents. I’m going to introduce you to them with all the fanfare you deserve.” “But you know my relationship with my father is strained, Clara. I’m only going back for you, to marry you. So you have to look absolutely stunning when you come with me to his birthday gala.” He wanted me, his stepdaughter, to get all dressed up. To show up pregnant, as his girlfriend, at his father’s birthday. How absurd. How utterly cruel. Addison held me tight, but his embrace felt like ice. Silent tears slipped from the corners of my eyes. From the very beginning, he had never felt a single shred of genuine love for me. 3. The next day, I went to the hospital and scheduled an abortion. When I got back, I gathered all the baby clothes I had bought. The joy and anticipation I once felt for this child’s arrival now felt like a crushing weight of grief. But no matter how much it hurt, no matter how much I didn’t want to let go, I couldn’t bring the child into a world of resentment and lies. Through my tears, I threw every tiny outfit, every little baby item, into the trash. When I was done, I called my senior from the dance company. “I’ve made up my mind. I’m accepting the offer from the New York Ballet.” A month ago, because Addison had asked me to stay, I had chosen not to terminate the pregnancy. I had given up the chance to join one of the world’s most prestigious companies, joyfully waiting for him to marry me. All for this devastating blow. My phone buzzed with a notification. A reservation for the restaurant Addison had carefully selected for our fourth anniversary. Right. Today was our anniversary. He had promised me a huge surprise. I didn’t want to go, but a tiny, foolish sliver of hope pulled me there. But Addison never showed up. Soft music played in the restaurant. Outside the window, the city skyline glittered across the river, its reflection shimmering on the dark water. I waited for three hours. I was still waiting when fireworks suddenly lit up the night sky over the river. A crowd had gathered on the riverbank, their faces turned upward, watching as drones spelled out a message in the sky. WELCOME HOME, VIVIAN. I’LL PROTECT YOU NOW. In that instant, I knew why Addison’s phone had been off all night. Why he had missed our anniversary dinner. She was back. Cheers erupted from the riverbank. I saw Addison’s silhouette on a boat, a graceful woman standing beside him. He waved to the crowd on the shore, a triumphant smile on his face. He looked like he had conquered the world. I forced down a bite of steak. It tasted like ash. A stubborn mist clouded my vision. I dropped my fork and knife with a clatter, the memory of the day he’d asked me out flashing in my mind. The confident, vibrant look on his face. “Clara, be my girlfriend!” It all sounded so hollow now, so pathetic. My appetite was gone. I went to the restroom. On my way out, I saw Addison and Vivian being seated at a table right next to mine. Addison glanced around, as if looking for me. When he didn’t see me, a visible wave of relief washed over him. I stood there by the restroom door, watching him carefully serve Vivian, cutting her steak for her, his eyes filled with a deep, unmistakable love. It was the first time I had seen her. She was beautiful, but not in a delicate, fragile way. She had a chic, sharp bob, with strong eyebrows and deep red lips. She radiated the confidence of a powerhouse. No wonder Addison had been so certain he would make me get rid of our child, so determined not to let me get in the way of his pursuit of her. A woman like that wouldn’t be a fool for love like me. An hour and a half later, they finished their meal and prepared to leave. I rubbed my aching legs and went downstairs. The food on my table was cold. I picked up my purse and walked out of the restaurant. Surprisingly, Addison called me back. “Clara, you didn’t go to the restaurant, did you? I’m so sorry, training ran so late today, I completely forgot about our anniversary.” “I’ll make it up to you next time, okay?” A cold wind whipped around me, lifting the ends of my hair. I watched as Addison, not far away, gallantly opened the car door for Vivian. I let out a soft, empty laugh. “It’s okay. I forgot, too.” Back home, I sat by the window for a long time, lost in thought. I remembered the little moments from my four years with Addison. I had enrolled in the university’s dance program behind my mother’s back. She had been a ballerina of some renown herself, but because of it, she was dismissed as just a pretty face and looked down upon by Addison’s family. Her failure to be with his father was her life’s great regret. So, growing up, she forbade me from learning ballet. But I had watched her dance my entire life. Ballet was in my blood. Thankfully, my biological father saw my talent and went against my mother’s wishes to send me to a dance academy. After he died, my mother threatened to disown me if I didn’t quit. But I refused. During my freshman year, our relationship hit rock bottom. I was miserable for a long time, earning the nickname “Ice Queen” from my classmates. It was Addison who entered my world, who patiently broke down my walls, encouraging and comforting me. Slowly, I let go of my resentment, focused on my dancing, and achieved unexpected success. By my junior year, my mother had softened. She no longer tried to stop me from dancing. Our relationship began to heal. Back then, full of innocent curiosity, I asked Addison, “You said a homewrecker stole your father. Have you ever thought about getting rid of her?” At the time, Addison had just looked at me, a deep, unreadable expression in his eyes, before laughing. I didn’t understand the meaning behind his gaze then. But now, I think I finally did. He hadn’t just thought about it. He had put a plan into motion. He had used four precious years of his life to weave a beautiful dream for me. All to deliver a devastating blow to my mother and stepfather. But he had no idea. In the twisted story of the previous generation… His mother was the one who had destroyed a real relationship. His mother was the homewrecker. 4. Addison spent a full week with Vivian. It gave me the time I needed to go to the hospital and end the pregnancy. I packed up my belongings in our apartment, every item a painful memory. We had moved into this place together our sophomore year. Just a few weeks ago, I was planning to buy it, to make it our marital home. But before the papers could be signed, everything fell apart. The starry lights on the windowsill, we’d strung them up together. The blanket on the sofa, we’d bought it on a weekend trip. Every quirky lamp and fixture, we’d chosen them all. The home we had lovingly built had become a prison of memories. On the day of the gala, Addison called me early. “Clara, the dress is on its way, and I’ve booked a makeup artist for you. Be on time, okay? I have something to take care of, so I’ll see you there.” I nodded numbly into the phone and said, “Okay.” After we hung up, I arranged for a courier to have the dress redirected to Vivian’s address. I also paid the makeup artist extra to go there instead. With that done, I took a taxi to the airport. The plane climbed into the sky, leaving the capital city behind. I gazed out the window at the endless sea of clouds and slowly closed my eyes. Some goodbyes are inevitable. In the silence of my heart, I said my final farewell to Addison.

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My name was written into the blind box dating game played by the rich boys at my school. A week later, Julian Thorne, the top student of our grade, stepped down from his pedestal. He told me he liked me. Flattered and overwhelmed, I agreed and became his girlfriend. For an entire semester, he granted my every wish, spoiling me to the extreme. Everyone envied my good fortune for plucking this flower from the high peak. Until the eve of the college entrance exam, when he abruptly broke up with me. I knew they wanted to see me act like the girls before me—suicidal, heartbroken, dropping out of school. But I took the exam as usual. Holding the acceptance letter from the top university, I smiled at them: “Thank you for your help this past year.” “I’m off to the best university now.” …… “Students who want to apply for financial aid, come to my office after class to fill out the form.” As soon as the homeroom teacher finished speaking, Mia Sterling, the class beauty who took pleasure in tormenting me, suggested: “Teacher, why don’t we let the students who want to apply state their reasons now? That way, classmates can help them specifically in the future.” “Alright.” The teacher nodded. “Lucy Gold, you go first.” I stood up with a blank face and calmly narrated just how poor I was in front of more than 50 classmates. The bell rang. The classroom went from quiet to noisy. Mia walked up to me and threw a ten-dollar bill on the floor. “Runaway mom, crippled dad picking through trash, borrowed tuition from every relative… Student Gold, how are you still alive being this miserable?” “If I were you, I would have died long ago and tried for a better reincarnation.” “Luckily, I have a heart. Here, take this ten dollars. It’s enough for your dad to pick trash for a day.” I was used to being trampled on by those in high positions. Besides, Mia hated me extremely because I looked sixty percent like her. I bent down to pick up the money and put it in my pocket. I smiled brightly: “Thank you for your generosity, Student Sterling.” I could afford a meat dish for lunch today. Studying was truly a brain-draining task; eating a three-dollar vegetarian meal left me hungry in no time. After picking up the money, I wanted to walk around her and leave. I had to hurry to the restroom so I could come back and continue doing practice problems. But Mia pushed me back into my seat and leaned in close. In a voice only the two of us could hear, she said: “Don’t mention it. I can help you with more than just this.” “I’ve also prepared a big surprise for you!” The next day, I found out what the so-called surprise was. A young master from the school’s elite group actually ran over to strike up a conversation with a penniless student like me. After all, compared to the class beauty, my looks were still somewhat inferior. A basketball hit me, the perpetual invisible person. A sunny, handsome boy ran over apologetically. His eyes curved like a puppy’s: “Sorry, are you okay?” At first, I didn’t notice anything wrong. I just thought it was an unlucky accident. The usually arrogant young master was surprisingly enthusiastic, pulling me and not letting me leave. “Go to the infirmary, or I’ll worry.” “Or add me on social media. Contact me immediately if you feel uncomfortable anywhere; I’ll take full responsibility.” Since getting into this key high school, I had never felt kindness. Poverty and wealth seemed to be opposing camps. Because I was uniquely poor, I was a heresy that needed to be dealt with. The fire-bearer was the rich daughter, Mia Sterling. With a wave of her arm, I became an existence that could only be alone. First, I was isolated. Then came textbooks inexplicably soaked in water, excessive physical contact in PE class, and insulting graffiti in the bathroom saying “Lucy Gold is a slut.” I was long accustomed to a malicious survival environment. Sudden proactive kindness did not make me overjoyed. It only made me extremely vigilant. In that moment, a thought struck me— This might be the big surprise Mia mentioned. So I calmly rejected the boy. I had to figure out first. What tricks were they playing now. So I could counter them. 2 After school, I quietly followed Mia. Outside an activity room, I heard her conversation with those elite friends. The boy who hit on me during the day now sounded gloomy: “I failed today.” The boys laughed uproariously: “Young Master Yao losing his charm? Can’t even take down a ghetto girl?” “It’s okay, Yao. Three girls have had abortions for you before. Your record is brilliant. No one will look down on you for one failure, hahaha.” Mia wasn’t in the mood to joke: “This year’s blind box game drew that bitch Lucy Gold. One of you must date her and then ruin her when she’s most proud.” Those usually glamorous boys now looked like ugly demons, baring stinking fangs: “Don’t worry. Those girls in the past were all taken down by us without exception. This so-called Lucy Gold won’t be an exception.” “Exactly. If Yao can’t do it, someone else will. We have so many people; one of us will surely move her.” “Worst case, we still have the boss. Don’t tell me she can resist Julian.” Mia’s voice suddenly rose: “No!” “Anyone else can go, but Julian Thorne can’t.” The crowd hooted loudly: “Ooh, ooh, Miss Sterling is jealous?” “Such possessiveness.” The room was in chaos. I silently chewed on that name outside. My fingers unconsciously picked at the wall, leaving a crescent-shaped mark. Julian Thorne. So you are one of them too. How nice. In the following days, my peach blossom tree bloomed forcefully. Various young masters took turns appearing. Gentle, steady, mysterious, roguish, refined, wolf-like or puppy-like… They found various reasons to talk to me. Without exception, they all expressed the same wish— To be friends with me. But I rejected them all like a fool: “Sorry, I have to go back and study.” For a high school senior, no excuse is more lethal than this. The look on their faces when rejected was particularly wonderful. I would bring it out to savor during breaks from studying. While I was secretly amused. Mia was exasperated and hurt me even more excessively. She wielded scissors to cut my hair and poked me with needles like the evil nanny in dramas, leaving bloody holes. She stripped me naked and threw me into the pool, then smeared superglue on the handrails. To escape, I could only tear off a layer of skin and put on my clothes with bloody hands. These rich kids were very creative. There were too many subtle torture methods. Leaving you with nowhere to complain. Moreover, their families were powerful, and each family had donated a lot of money to the school. As long as it didn’t involve criminal law, the teachers would turn a blind eye. Just like the past three years, I gritted my teeth and endured it again. Finally, on Monday a week later. Symbolizing a new beginning of the week, I finally waited for the person I wanted. The high-cold male god, ranked first in the grade, Julian Thorne, descended upon the deserted self-study room. He sat next to me for a long time. Finally, he pointed to my chemistry paper and reminded me: “You chose the wrong answer for this question.” “Potassium dichromate is a strong oxidizing substance; the solution cannot be contained in a basic burette.” 3 I tested into this key high school from a rural town. Back in my town, I was always first in my grade. I thought I was smart and good at studying. I understood the teacher’s points immediately and could easily complete the after-class exercises. But in the first monthly exam after arriving here, I ranked over 400th. No one could understand my feelings at that moment. I thought learning was my talent, my capital for settling down in the future. But after jumping out of the remote small town, I realized I was just ordinary. Ranking over 400th in the grade, I couldn’t even get into a decent tier-one university. So I studied desperately. I didn’t care about being isolated or bullied. In my world, grades were the only goal. Through my unremitting efforts, I improved to the top 50 in the grade. And stopped there. Then I understood that some things cannot be achieved by subjective will alone. Too many external forces are also essential factors for success. My dad sent me here because he heard the teachers were excellent. Indeed, much better than our small county town. But teachers in the same school are also divided into grades. The best resources were tilted towards Class One. That was the so-called noble class. The students inside were all dragons among men, with prominent family backgrounds. They enjoyed the best educational resources at school and hired famous teachers for tutoring after school. Children supported by the full power of their families were certainly not easily surpassed by someone like me. They firmly occupied the top 50 positions on the leaderboard. Making it hard for me to catch up. Among them, Julian Thorne was the most outstanding. I had heard this name for two years. Mysterious family background, outstandingly beautiful looks, grades always more than 30 points higher than the second place. Even with his cold and arrogant personality, disliking communication with others. He was crowned with the beautiful name of the “Flower of the High Peak.” A campus prince with exploding popularity. Almost all girls yearned for him. I was no exception. Such a person, in the last school year, because of a malicious game. Came to my side. It was truly. Too good. That remote and old self-study room became a secret base for Julian and me. After school, we always arrived there one after another with tacit understanding. Without speaking, we each did our own papers. When I scratched my head over difficult problems, he silently approached. Picked up a pen to explain to me. Julian was indeed the undisputed first. His problem-solving ideas were always clear and concise. Many messy problems became clear and simple under his analysis. A boy explaining problems seriously is really charming. His eyelashes drooped like resting butterflies, occasionally flapping their wings. Slender fingers held the pen, writing line after line of formulas fluently. The handwriting was elegant and unconstrained, showing the owner’s confidence and freedom. I watched him entranced without knowing it. Suddenly, the pen that was just writing tapped lightly on my forehead. The fair and handsome boy pretended to be angry: “What are you thinking about? Zoning out.” As if bewitched, I raised my hand and poked his eyelid with my index finger. “There’s a mole here.” Brown, very light, hidden in the fold of his double eyelid. Hard to find without looking carefully. Julian froze for a moment, then smiled. The smile was very beautiful. I came back to my senses, hurriedly withdrew my hand, and lowered my head deeply. Exposing my embarrassed red ears to his sight. Sunlight shone through the window, casting our shadows on the table. Under the Tyndall effect, tiny dust particles were like my frantic heartbeat, with nowhere to hide. On such a warm afternoon, Julian confessed to me: “Lucy, I like you. Will you be with me?” 4 I forgot where I saw the theory. Something must be repeated at least seven times to have a place in someone’s heart. So I rejected Julian. The reason was the same as rejecting other elite group members: “I don’t want to delay my studies.” In that instant, I was very sure I saw the disgust and impatience hidden deep in Julian’s eyes. But I still rejected him. Not only that, I also changed the signatures of various social software, the title pages of books, and all places displayed to the outside world to vows like “I want to study hard.” After that, Julian didn’t come to the self-study room again. I didn’t care and continued to study step by step. Anyway, I wasn’t the one anxious to do bad things. Sure enough, during a break a few days later, Julian condescended to come to the ordinary class to find me. I walked out under the curious gazes of classmates and Mia’s jealous gaze. Julian returned to the appearance of a graceful jade-like young man. It seemed that the unhappy parting that day was an illusion. He stood in front of me with a helpless and doting smile on his face: “I am the first in the grade. How could being my girlfriend delay your studies?” “I will definitely help you improve your grades.” “Trust me, hmm?” I hesitated: “Really?” Seeing me waver, as if seeing the dawn of victory. He promised firmly: “Of course.” “I am Julian Thorne.” As expected of Julian Thorne. After half a month of his tutoring, I ranked 36th in the grade in this monthly exam. The best result in history. The day the results came out, I ran excitedly to the self-study room. Julian was indeed there. He stood in the sunlight, like a hero in golden armor. “I said it, definitely possible.” I nodded fiercely. He extended his arms, making a gesture waiting for a hug. “Can I hug my girlfriend now?” I smiled and threw myself into his arms. Closing my eyes, not looking at his unwavering eyes. Anyway, he stood in the sunlight, his whole body warmed by the sun. And I, beside him, was also shone on by the sun. Equally warm. That was enough! The education Julian received was indeed different from mine. His textbooks and exercises were exclusively customized. After being with him, he also hired a tutor to customize a study plan for me. With his support, my grades slowly climbed to the top ten. Such results were enough to make me ecstatic. No matter what, dating in this game until now, the benefits I received were real. So I decided to get more into character. Learning that Julian’s eighteenth birthday was coming soon, I prepared to celebrate it well for him. I went to find him, wanting to ask if there was any gift he wanted. But I heard Mia’s familiar voice: “Julian, I saw you kissing Lucy that day.” I stopped. Of course. Vigorous young boys and girls in love, how could they not do intimate things? Kissing? Lips were almost worn out. At first, Julian wasn’t keen on kissing, and his technique wasn’t good. But gradually, he became addicted. Recently, he enjoyed it even more, holding me on his lap whenever he found a chance, kissing wantonly. Even pulling silver threads when parting. Through the wall, Mia continued to speak: “You remember this is a game, right?” “Your goal is to ruin her life, not to have a sweet romance with her.” After a moment of silence, Julian replied: “I didn’t forget.” This moment of silence seemed to breed Mia’s anxiety. Her voice became sharp, gradually containing a crying tone: “Promise me, you can’t do that kind of thing with her.” “That kind… that kind of intimate thing between husband and wife, you can’t do it with her.” “Otherwise I won’t be able to stand it, I will really collapse.” “You know, I… I…” She should be crying; the rest of the words were unspoken. Only intermittent sobbing sounded. Another longer silence, Julian responded in a low voice: “I won’t.” “She’s not worthy!” I picked off a small piece of wall skin and pulled the corner of my mouth silently. Sometimes I couldn’t help but pity these rich people. Why so stupid. Always exposing weaknesses in front of people. Last time it was like this, this time too. Declaring what they care about like this, how can people resist not destroying everything they care about? On Julian’s birthday, many people came. His friends called me sister-in-law one after another, exceptionally enthusiastic. In the end, someone brought strong drinks, and a group of young men competed in drinking. Julian also drank a lot. He was very well-behaved when drunk. Didn’t speak either, just held my hand tightly, nestling in the corner. Occasionally leaning over to kiss my mouth. The private room was hot, and the hands pressed together were full of damp sweat, very uncomfortable. I wanted to break free but was held tighter by Julian. I hooked his head, leaned close, and whispered: “So you’re only eighteen, nine months younger than me.” “A pity, I still wanted to call you Oppa~” Julian’s breath hitched, voice low and hoarse: “Call me that again.” I pretended not to understand, feigning confusion: “Call what?” After his breathing became heavy, I chuckled lightly, blowing air in his ear: “Oppa?” He stood up abruptly, dragging me outside. Mia’s face was pale, losing her voice to stop him: “Where are you going?” “Julian, don’t forget, this is just a…” “Shut up!” Julian shouted. He looked back, glaring at Mia fiercely, deep disgust in his eyes. “Who do you think you are?” “Trying to command me?” Mia lost all color, falling back into her seat in disbelief. But Julian didn’t even look back, dragging me away without turning his head.

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My roommate used my curated selfies to catfish a billionaire heir online. Just now, a string of comments floated past me in the air: 【My sweet protagonist, don’t be afraid! So what if you’re 175 pounds? He loves your soul!】 【Just have a good cry when you meet him, and the CEO will definitely forgive you. After all, you only did it because you love him so much.】 I glanced at my roommate, who was currently gnawing on a greasy pork knuckle, then back at the photo of the heir on my phone. My eyebrow shot up. He’s been falling for my face? In that case, starting right now, he’s my boyfriend. 1 This was the third month of Sonya using my photos for her online romance. The commentary track above her head was still scrolling furiously: 【This is killing me, why does our girl keep refusing to meet him in person?】 【She can’t help it. Our baby heroine has low self-esteem. After all, she’s using photos of Aria Coy, the campus queen. She’s afraid he’ll be disappointed.】 【Don’t worry, our hero is the heir to the Sterling Group. He’s seen plenty of beautiful women. It’s our girl’s fascinating soul that he fell in love with!】 A fascinating soul? I tilted my head, looking at Sonya on the top bunk, currently picking at her feet. She had just finished a round of a mobile game when her phone buzzed. A smug look instantly spread across her face. She shoved the screen toward me. “Honestly, Aria, aren’t men just idiots? I told him I didn’t want to talk, and he sent me another two grand.” On the screen, the memo for the transfer was glaringly clear: 【For my baby. Buy yourself some snacks. Don’t get too thin.】 Sonya gleefully accepted the payment and sent a voice message in a syrupy, high-pitched tone. “Thank you, hubby~ I love you~” The floating comments went wild: 【I’m squealing! This is the most romantic thing ever!】 【Actually, she doesn’t need to lose weight. He loves curvy girls.】 【Exactly. That roommate of hers, Aria, might be pretty, but you can tell she’s a total schemer. She’s nothing like our pure, adorable heroine.】 A schemer, am I? Fine. Since you’ve all said it, I’d be letting you down if I didn’t live up to the title. I put down my book and asked casually, “So when are you going to introduce us to this generous boyfriend of yours?” The smile on Sonya’s face froze for a second, her eyes darting away. “He’s… he’s busy. You’ve heard of the Sterling Group, right? He’s the heir. He has billion-dollar deals to close every day. He doesn’t have time to meet you common folk.” She then looked at me, her eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Aria, you’re not jealous, are you? I guess it makes sense. So what if you’re beautiful? You still have to work part-time at a coffee shop to pay your bills. Not like me. I just have to lift a finger, and the money rolls in.” I smiled and stood up, walking to the mirror to adjust the new white dress I’d just bought. The girl in the mirror was all slender waist and long legs, with skin so pale it practically glowed. “Jealous? Not really. It’s just that…” I turned, giving her a meaningful look. “Since he loves you so much, don’t you think you should let him see the real you?” My stare seemed to unnerve her. She quickly changed the subject. “Hey… Aria, can you send me that new portrait photo you just took? I want to… I want to use it as my phone wallpaper.” I sneered internally. Wallpaper my ass. The Sterling heir was clearly asking for more photos. Without a word, I sent it to her. The comments erupted in cheers again: 【Our baby heroine is so kind! She’s working so hard to maintain her image in his eyes.】 【He’s going to be obsessed when he sees this new picture.】 【Can’t wait for them to meet in person! He’ll realize that even though she looks different, their souls are a perfect match, and they’ll be together forever!】 Meet in person, huh? Funny, I was waiting for that day too. 2 On Saturday afternoon, I put on a careful “no-makeup” makeup look. Before I left, Sonya was still lying in bed like a corpse, her mouth full of potato chips. “Where are you going on a weekend?” she mumbled. “Meeting a friend,” I replied, slipping on my shoes. Sonya scoffed. “What friend? Some broke guy? Aria, don’t say I didn’t warn you. A woman needs to find a rich man. Otherwise, you’ll be stuck at the bottom forever.” I ignored her taunts and walked out the door. The Sterling Group tower was a gleaming skyscraper in the heart of downtown, the most expensive part of the city. I sat in the coffee shop on the ground floor for half an hour before I finally saw a familiar figure. Liam Sterling. I had to admit, the prize Sonya was after was top-shelf. Broad shoulders, a narrow waist, all wrapped in a perfectly tailored suit. His face was even more handsome than the blurry photos online. The comments were getting excited too: 【Ahhh, there’s our hero! So handsome!】 【Is he getting off work to go to dinner? If only our baby heroine were here.】 【Wait, look, why is that schemer Aria here too? What is she up to?】 What am I up to? Just giving your hero a little shock to the system. I timed it perfectly. Just as he was about to reach the door, I picked up my coffee and pretended to rush out. Thump. I stumbled right into his arms, the coffee splashing onto his expensive cufflink. Liam’s hand instinctively shot out to steady my waist. Our eyes met. In that instant, I saw the pure shock in his eyes. “It’s you?” Liam’s voice was deep and pleasant, with a tremor of disbelief. I immediately straightened up and pushed away from him, a blush blooming on my cheeks. “I’m so, so sorry! Sir, are you alright? I… I was in a hurry for my part-time job and wasn’t looking where I was going. I’m terribly sorry!” My performance was flawless. Panic, shyness, guilt—I played every note to perfection. Liam was stunned. In his mind, the “girlfriend” who flirted with him over text and accepted his money without hesitation was now standing right in front of him. But my reaction was that of a complete stranger. “You don’t know me?” he asked tentatively. I blinked my wide eyes, feigning confusion. “Should I… know you?” I glanced at my phone and gasped. “Oh no, I’m going to miss my bus! Sir, if your suit needs to be dry-cleaned, please come find me at the ‘Wanderlust Café’ just up the street. My name is Aria. I promise I’ll pay for it!” Before he could react, I turned and ran. My dress fluttered behind me, leaving him with the image of a beautiful, flustered girl rushing away. Liam stood there, watching me disappear, his brow furrowed. He whispered the name to himself, “Aria…” 3 When I got back to the dorm, Sonya was showing off to Tina from the next bed. “Ugh, I told him not to, but he insisted on buying me this Louis Vuitton bag. He’s just impossible.” Tina looked on with envy. “You’re so lucky, Sonya. We don’t even have boyfriends.” When Sonya saw me, she quickly hid her phone and said in a snide tone, “Oh, look who’s back from her date with Mr. Broke Guy. Did he treat you to a hot dog from a street cart?” I hung up my bag and replied coolly, “We didn’t eat. Just had coffee.” “Tch, I knew it,” Sonya said with an eye-roll. “By the way, do you have any more of those portrait photos? Send me a couple more.” I raised an eyebrow. “What, one wallpaper isn’t enough?” “None of your business. Just send them. Stop asking so many questions.” I casually sent two more photos her way. Watching her happily save and forward them, I couldn’t help but feel a wicked sense of glee. Go on, send them. The more you send, the deeper Liam’s suspicion will grow. Sure enough, a few minutes later, Sonya’s expression soured. She stared at her phone, chewing her fingernails anxiously. The comments started to stir: 【What’s wrong? Why isn’t he replying?】 【They were just talking, what happened?】 【He’s probably just busy. He’s a CEO, after all.】 Busy? More like busy questioning his entire reality. Just then, my phone vibrated. It was a friend request from an unknown number. The profile picture was a deep-space nebula. The note read: 【This is Liam Sterling. You bumped into me earlier outside the Sterling tower.】 A slow smile spread across my face as I accepted. Liam: 【Miss Coy, you work at Wanderlust Café?】 Me: 【Yes, that’s right. Sir, about your suit…】 Liam: 【The suit is fine. I’m free tomorrow. I’d like to buy you a coffee and discuss the compensation.】 Discuss compensation? Right. His intentions were crystal clear. I replied with a simple 【Okay】 and turned off my phone, ready for a nice, long beauty sleep. 4 The next morning, a black Maybach was parked at the school gate, drawing stares from every student who passed by. Liam Sterling was leaning against the car door, one long leg crossed over the other, holding a designer bag with breakfast inside. His eyes lit up when he saw me, and he strode over. “Good morning, Miss Coy.” I feigned surprise. “Mr. Sterling? What are you…” “I was in the neighborhood,” he said, his expression perfectly straight. “I have business nearby, so I thought I’d give you a ride.” I hesitated for a moment before getting into the car. The interior was filled with a subtle, pleasant woody scent. As he drove, Liam asked, seemingly at random, “Miss Coy, you’re still in college, right? Why are you working part-time on the weekends?” I looked down at my hands. “My family’s situation isn’t the best,” I said softly. “I want to earn my own living expenses to lighten their burden.” Liam’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. I could almost hear his thoughts: I just sent her two thousand dollars last night. Why is she still working today? We soon arrived at the café. I got out and thanked him, but instead of leaving, he followed me inside. He chose a table by the window and ordered an Americano. I busied myself behind the counter, grinding coffee beans and frothing milk. Liam’s gaze never left me, a mixture of curiosity and something else… fascination. After a while, he got up and walked to the counter, pointing to my bare neck. “Miss Coy, you don’t like wearing jewelry?” I blinked. “Oh, I don’t really wear any. I… can’t afford it.” Liam’s pupils contracted. Just last week, he had bought his “girlfriend” a $10,000 necklace. She had sent him a picture of herself wearing it, saying she absolutely loved it. And the collarbone in that photo was identical to the one right in front of him. Just then, his phone buzzed. He glanced at it, and his expression became even stranger. I snuck a peek at the comments. 【What is he doing? Why is he staring at that schemer?】 【Our baby heroine just texted him saying she misses him, why isn’t he replying?】 Liam looked from his phone screen to me, who was just setting his coffee down. On his phone, Sonya’s message was displayed clearly: 【Hubby, I’m studying in the library. So tired, I need a hug~】 In reality, the girl from the photos was standing in front of him, wearing an apron and serving him coffee. Case closed. Liam took a deep breath. His eyes cleared, and a hint of coldness crept into them. He took the coffee, his fingertips brushing against the back of my hand. “Miss Coy, could I get your number?” I feigned a shy blush. “Oh… okay, sure.” After we exchanged numbers, Liam, right in front of me, changed my contact name to—【Aria (The Real One)】. 5 Back at the dorm, the atmosphere was tense. Sonya was sitting on her bed, furiously typing on her phone, clearly arguing with someone. She didn’t show off when I came in like she usually did. Instead, she just shot me a dirty look. Tina rushed over, her face alight with gossip. “Aria! Who was that who dropped you off? In a Maybach! He was so hot!” Sonya’s ears immediately perked up. “Oh, just a friend I recently met,” I said nonchalantly. “A friend you just met drives a Maybach to give you a ride?” Sonya couldn’t help but interject, her voice dripping with acid. “Aria, don’t tell me you’ve become some rich guy’s sugar baby. Those men are just playing with you. You’ll end up sold and still be counting the money for him.” I smiled. “What, are you the only one allowed to have a rich boyfriend? I can’t have a friend with a nice car?” Sonya was speechless for a moment, then scoffed. “I’m in a serious relationship! Not like whatever you’re doing… Hmph!” Just then, Sonya’s phone rang. She glanced at the screen, her eyes widened, and then she erupted in pure joy. “Oh my god! He wants to see me! He wants to meet in person!” The comments exploded: 【Ahhh, it’s finally happening!】 【Our hero couldn’t wait any longer!】 【Get ready for the face-slap! That schemer Aria is about to see what true love looks like!】 Sonya’s hands were trembling as she typed out a reply. “He said tomorrow night! At that new revolving restaurant downtown! It’s the most expensive place in the city!” She jumped off her bed and started frantically rummaging through her closet. “Aria, let me borrow your red dress! And that Chanel bag!” I leaned against my wardrobe, watching her scramble around like a clown. “No.” Sonya froze, looking at me in disbelief. “What did you say?” “I said no,” I repeated slowly. “I’m a bit of a germaphobe. I don’t like other people wearing my clothes.” “You!” Sonya’s face turned red with anger. “You’re so stingy! Fine, don’t lend it to me! When I’m Mrs. Sterling, I’ll buy out the entire mall, and then we’ll see who’s jealous!” She turned away, muttering curses as she went back to her own collection of cheap, fast-fashion clothes. I glanced down at my phone. Liam’s profile picture was lit up. 【Aria, are you free tomorrow night? I’d like to take you to dinner. At that new revolving restaurant.】 I looked at Sonya, still lost in her fantasy, and replied: 【Of course. See you there.】 Same time, same place. It seemed Liam was planning to bring both the real and fake monkeys to the table for an immediate verdict. This was getting interesting.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “388540”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel