Category: English

I was out shopping with my sister. Her gigolo boyfriend mistook me for her side piece and kicked me into a ditch. I said I was fine, but in reality, after running into him at school, I bagged him and beat him up that very night. Feeling satisfied, I walked away dusting off my hands. The next day, the campus forum exploded. The Physics Department’s heartthrob, sporting a battle-worn face and holding a limited-edition sneaker, posted a bounty online. “Whoever can find the owner of this shoe will be heavily rewarded!” Everyone joked that Cinderella and her crystal slipper had become reality. Meanwhile, I was hiding the other shoe while calling the “Old Witch”—my sister. “Sis! You didn’t tell me your gigolo had a twin brother?!” 1 The post instantly shot to the top three trending topics. Students hungry for gossip were all making jokes. [How is the Physics Hunk going to find them? Are we lining up to try on the shoe? Hahaha] [Who is this Cinderella! Please tell.] [To the person above, no obligation to tell, thanks. But seriously… who is it? Who dared to beat up our Physics God?] [Are there any more detailed clues, like body shape?] Lucas replied to this comment: [It’s a man. In the chaos, I hugged him. He’s about three or four inches shorter than me. Felt… okay to the touch. And he smelled a bit… fragrant.] The students exploded: [Bro, what exactly are you reminiscing about?] [Who describes a man like that? Especially one who beat you up.] [Is this revenge or romance? Hard to guess.] [I know this type. It’s giving gay vibes.] [Don’t say it, don’t say it.] The comment section weirdly spiraled in a certain direction. Someone asked: “There are tons of people who wear size 8 shoes. How do you know which one is him?” Lucas: “I’ll know him as soon as he appears.” Smack— My phone slipped from my hand and smashed heavily onto the floor, just like my shattered heart. I’ve heard of Lucas. He was the top scorer in the college entrance exams. But I’m a recluse. Aside from classes and eating, I hole up in my dorm. Let alone knowing Lucas, I don’t even know what he looks like. At most, I’ve heard his name praised by professors or gushed over by lovestruck girls. Supposedly handsome, rich, and has good grades. But you didn’t tell me he looks exactly like the gigolo my sister is dating?! I quickly dialed the “Old Witch.” “Yo, the sun rising from the west? You actually contacted your sister voluntarily?” I didn’t waste words, whispering: “Does your gigolo happen to have a twin brother or something?” “How did you know he has a brother? I think he goes to your school, what’s his name… Lucas? Yes!” Me: “……” The person looks alive, but inside, he’s been dead for a while. I wondered why it was such a coincidence. Just got kicked, then ran into him at school. Turns out it wasn’t even the same person! Looking at the limited-edition sneaker I saved my allowance for four months to buy, my heart was bleeding profusely. If I don’t confess, at worst I’ll get beaten up? No, no, too humiliating. Might even get a demerit from school. While I was pondering, the dorm door handle turned from the outside. I quickly hid the plastic-wrapped shoe under my quilt. My roommates, Old Wang and Xiao Lin, were grinning at their phones. “Bao, did you see the campus forum?” Xiao Lin asked. I nodded guiltily. “This guy’s got something. He actually made Lucas open a special session for him.” Old Wang rubbed his hands excitedly like a fly: “Reward is five thousand. Don’t let me catch him.” I swallowed silently, probing tentatively: “What if you find out it’s someone you know?” Both clapped and cheered: “Even better! Drag him directly to claim the bounty!” “……” Some plastic brotherhood this is. Seeing money, they can’t even walk straight. Old Wang’s eyes shifted, suddenly remembering: “Bao, I remember you wear size 8 too.” My heart instantly jumped to my throat. I raised my voice as much as possible to hide my panic: “Don’t get any ideas about me. I don’t even know Lucas.” “That’s true. Every day, aside from class, you’re lying in bed watching anime. Thinking with my toes, it couldn’t be you.” Hearing this, I let out a long sigh of relief. But the next second. 2 Xiao Lin frowned in thought: “Wait, I seem to have seen this shoe somewhere…” Haven’t you? I specifically asked you to help me choose the color back then. Luckily, I like collecting all kinds of sneakers. Xiao Lin probably wouldn’t remember this specific pair right away. Seeing him looking like he wouldn’t give up until he remembered, I immediately asked. “Want to play 5v5?” Hearing about the game, he stopped thinking and logged on directly. I slept extremely restlessly that night. In the first half of the night, I dreamed I was dragged by my roommates to confess before Lucas. “Summer, my foster father! Brothers are relying on you to get rich!” In the second half, I dreamed Lucas chased me with a whip for two miles. “Running? Still running? Hmm?” “Not running, not running!” I jolted awake from the bed. Six eyes met. Xiao Lin and Old Wang looked confused. “What did this kid dream about? Scared like this?” “Definitely a wet dream, probably zombies.” I was about to speak, but saw an existence more terrifying than a zombie. Why is Lucas here?! “He he he…” Old Wang looked in the direction I pointed, “Oh right: New roommate. Don’t need me to introduce, right?” Lucas nodded slightly at me, a bruise still visible at the corner of his lips. It’s over. The counselor told our dorm a few days ago that a new roommate was coming. Never expected it to be him. My vision went black, and I lay back down. When my toes touched the plastic bag at the foot of the bed, my heart contracted sharply. This thing must be removed, or there will be trouble later. Taking advantage of no one in the dorm, I sneaked out of bed. Before I could stuff the plastic bag into my backpack, a voice came. “Going out?” Lucas was like a ghost that comes and goes without a trace, standing behind me unbeknownst to me. I jumped, and the thing in my hand fell to the ground with a clatter. “What is this?” Just as his hand was about to touch the plastic bag at my feet, I snatched it back. “Don’t touch my stuff!” Lucas lowered his eyes: “Sorry, I just wanted to help you pick it up.” Realizing I overreacted, I tried to squeeze out a smile: “I just don’t really like people touching my things. I didn’t mean to blame you.” “I thought you didn’t like being friends with me.” “How could that be? Who wouldn’t want a genius friend?” “As long as you like it.” When Lucas smiled, his eyes curved. There was a mole on his left cheek. Looking closely, he was different from his brother. If his brother was a prickly hedgehog, then he was a gentle golden retriever. Since he’s so easy to get along with, should I just confess? But this thought was quickly extinguished. Since ancient times, a brother pays for a brother’s debt. It’s only natural. His brother kicked me into a stinking ditch! The little guilt in my heart vanished instantly. At worst, I lose a shoe. A man’s dignity cannot be lost! Just as I was about to get up and leave, Old Wang burst in loudly. “Tomorrow is Saturday. How about our dorm have dinner together tonight? Just right, as a welcome for the new roommate, how about it?” Everyone raised their hands in agreement, so I couldn’t refuse. Glancing at my beloved shoe on the bed, I planned to find a time to take it home for safekeeping. Inside the hotpot restaurant. This place was viral online; we waited a long time for a table. As we ate, someone started gossiping about Lucas getting beaten up. “I say, Lucas, what kind of grudge did that person have with you to ambush you from behind?” Xiao Lin tsked. Lucas shook his head: “I don’t know. Maybe I accidentally offended him somewhere.” I don’t know if it was an illusion, but his gaze seemed to linger on me for a moment when he said this. 3 Old Wang pondered slightly, “I think the most likely possibility is that the person was jealous of your beauty and talent.” I almost choked on a piece of tofu, subconsciously blurting out what was in my mind: “Is there a possibility that the person mistook you for someone else?” Three pairs of eyes stared straight at me. I swallowed: “What are you looking at? Can’t rule out that possibility.” “Something’s wrong, very wrong.” Old Wang circled me. “Usually, you would have turned into Detective Conan and started analyzing. Why so quiet this time? You have issues!” “How is that possible?” I grabbed the cup next to me, drinking water tactically. Damn! My face twisted in pain instantly: “Who ordered alcohol?” Xiao Lin raised his hand proudly: “A little drink for tonight.” I can’t touch alcohol. Just one sip and my face starts burning. “Eat slowly.” My face was cupped, and Lucas gently wiped the oil stain from the corner of my mouth. This sudden move scared me stiff. This guy is a bit too considerate, isn’t he? Luckily, I only had one sip. Plus, being scared by Lucas, I already have some trauma about this small cup. Thinking we see each other every day, if I can’t run, can’t I hide? I’ll avoid him as much as possible in the future. Just like that, the shoe matter was thrown to the back of my mind. The following weeks were full of classes, everyone busy with their own things. Just when I thought everyone had forgotten about it. Returning to the dorm one night, I unfortunately saw that shoe brought back by Lucas again. Xiao Lin looked left and right, rubbing his chin in thought: “This shoe… I really have seen it somewhere.” Lucas looked at him expectantly: “Think carefully.” Afraid he would suddenly remember, I quickly stuffed snacks into his mouth. He patted Lucas’s shoulder: “I’ll definitely tell you when I remember.” Lucas’s disappointed expression was captured by me. It’s been so long, and he’s still looking. Seems he’s really angry. Then I should hide the other shoe even better! Thinking this, I quickly confirmed the foot of the bed, then felt relieved. Rushing to 8 AM classes for weeks, I was like a walking corpse, grabbing pants and putting them on. When putting on shoes, I groggily put on one, but couldn’t find the other no matter where I looked. Looking up again, I met Lucas’s scrutinizing gaze. “Summer, you fit in it.” ???!!! I reacted violently, feeling my feet burning. To avoid being beaten, I could only bite the bullet and quibble. “I’m not the only one in the whole school with size 8 feet. Why do you think it’s me?” “Besides, we didn’t know each other before. I have no reason to beat you.” Lucas didn’t speak. After a long time, he got out of bed. “Can I hug you?” I crossed my arms, looking at him in shock: “In broad daylight, two grown men hugging, what is this!” “No, I just want to confirm.” “There are tons of people who feel the same. Anyway, I didn’t do it, means I didn’t do it…” My voice got smaller towards the end. I used the 8 AM class as an excuse and fled. Bored in class, I accidentally clicked into the campus forum. That post was still hot. I looked through the latest comments. Someone asked: “Did you find your Cinderella?” Lucas: “Have a suspect, but not sure yet.” “Then may I ask, if you find him, what do you plan to do?” Lucas: “Punish him.” Punish! Him! These two words were like a thunderbolt, frying me tender on the inside and crispy on the outside. The scene of him chasing me with a whip for two miles in my dream involuntarily surfaced in my mind. Ew, this is too weird. Because of this, I ate two fewer bowls of rice for lunch. Listlessly returning to the dorm, Xiao Lin rushed towards me excitedly holding that shoe. “I remember!” 4 “Didn’t you ask me to help you choose a new shoe color before? It seems to be this… mmmph?” I covered his mouth, quickly checking the surroundings. Luckily, it was just the two of us in the dorm. Seeing my panic, Xiao Lin was a bit surprised: “It really is you?” “Aiya.” I messed up my hair irritably: “I just simply mistook the person. My original target was his twin brother.” Then, I told him the whole story: “Remember to keep it a secret.” Xiao Lin made a zipping motion: “But you’re too irresponsible. If you do something wrong, you have to admit it, right?” “Do you think I don’t want to admit it? If Lucas doesn’t forgive me and kicks me, wouldn’t I suffer a big loss?” Thinking of this made me angry: “The bruise on my waist hasn’t faded yet!” “Real or fake?” Xiao Lin lifted my clothes in disbelief. Because I landed on my butt, the marks were all below my waist. Just as Xiao Lin was about to pull my pants down to look, the door banged open. At this moment, I was supporting myself on the corner of the table with my back to Xiao Lin. And Xiao Lin had one hand lifting the hem of my shirt and the other pulling at my waistband. The posture of the two people had an indescribable ambiguity… Lucas stood at the door, the emotions in his eyes changing from shock to anger and finally to grievance. “I wondered why you wouldn’t let me hug you. Turns out it’s because of him?” Stop, stop, stop. Compared to our posture, his words seem more likely to be misunderstood, right? Sure enough, Xiao Lin immediately bounced meters away, shouting: “Injustice! Injustice!” He even dragged Old Wang, who had just returned and looked confused, out of the room. The door slammed shut with a “bang”. Immediately followed by a message in the dorm group chat saying the two of them weren’t coming back tonight. A fierce operation, leaving me messy in the wind. Four eyes met, and the atmosphere instantly became awkward. “Um… I’m not coming back tonight either!” I hugged my backpack and tried to dash out the door. Lucas stepped forward with his long legs, blocking me: “Are you dating Xiao Lin?” “No, he’s straight as steel.” “What about you?” Lucas pressed step by step, “Do you like men?” “I, I’m naturally straight too. Do I look gay?!” Okay, actually I’m pansexual for beauty. As long as it’s a beautiful person or thing, I accept them all. But he seemed to only hear “gay”, his eyes sparkling. No way, could he really be the gay guy the alumni talked about?! Lucas was about to speak when the surroundings suddenly went dark. His heart sank violently, and his breathing became rapid. I realized something was wrong with him and quickly asked about his condition. “What’s wrong with you?” “Summer…” Lucas’s hands grabbing me were sweating, “Hug me, please?” He’s trembling… I couldn’t care about anything else and hugged him directly to comfort him. A buzzing sound passed, and his vision gradually cleared. I was holding a flashlight, looking at him anxiously. The wailing of ghosts and wolves came from next door: “Auntie, the power is out in the dorm, dark and scary…” After drinking the water I handed him, he finally recovered. Finding himself held tightly, his ears inexplicably heated up. He gently pushed me away: “I’m fine…” Just as he stood up, his legs went soft and he fell back. Our lips accidentally touched, and both of us froze. Lucas licked his dry lips, his Adam’s apple rolling up and down: “Summer, I…” Snap— The originally dim dorm lit up again. The strong light made people unable to open their eyes, so much so that I didn’t know when the shoe in my bag fell out. I wanted to kick the shoe back in, but unexpectedly hooked it out. Before I could stop him, Lucas had already picked up the shoe. Since it has come to this, I had to accept my fate completely: “That’s right, the one who ambushed you that day was actually me. Punish me.”

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I came back to the dorm after a grueling gym session, sweating buckets. I just wanted to turn on my small desk fan to cool down. But my roommate, Lana, suddenly rushed over, smashing her hand down on the fan and screaming: “If you turn that on one more time, you’re going to use up our entire monthly electricity allowance and the subsidy from the school!” I was stunned. Before I could even react, she whipped out a calculator and started crunching numbers with aggressive speed. “You have two phones (20W each), a portable charger (18W), an electric kettle (800W), and a hair dryer (1200W).” “You charge your phones twice a day, 0.04 kWh each time; the power bank once a week, 0.05 kWh; the kettle once a day, 0.2 kWh; the hair dryer three times a day, 0.2 kWh each…” “At 15 cents per kilowatt-hour, you’ve used an extra 25 kWh this month. You owe me and Sarah $2.50!” 1 “So pay up!” “Otherwise, before this month ends, you are not allowed to use any electrical appliances in this dorm.” Lana pulled up her Venmo QR code and shoved it rudely in my face. My head was buzzing. I hadn’t recovered from the shock of her outburst. I’ve lived for eighteen years, and never did I imagine such a bizarre roommate situation would fall on my head. At the beginning of the semester, to make our dorm life more convenient, I bought a few small appliances online: a hair dryer, an electric hot pot, and a kettle. Back then, Lana was chatting with the girls next door. Seeing me unpack so many packages, she immediately ran over, questioning me aggressively: “Quinn, why did you buy so much stuff behind our backs?” Lana’s face was twisted. She looked like she wanted to swallow me whole. I was startled and looked at her blankly. “What’s wrong?” Our university is quite liberal. The dorms are pre-equipped with microwaves and mini-fridges. A hair dryer, a hot pot, and a kettle shouldn’t be an issue. I didn’t understand why she was overreacting. Lana didn’t answer. She stared at me silently for a long time. Then she went back to her desk and grabbed a notebook and a calculator. “What is the wattage of these appliances? I need to make a record.” At the time, I naively thought she was worried about fire safety or tripping the circuit breaker. So, I honestly handed her the manuals and said: “Don’t worry.” “The wattage of these appliances complies with the dorm’s safety regulations. There won’t be any problems.” I never expected that she was preparing for this day. Seeing that I hadn’t responded for a while, Lana frowned and urged impatiently: “What? Quinn, you usually act like you’re so rich. Are you trying to welch on a debt now?” 2 I didn’t answer her immediately. I looked up at my other roommate, Sarah, and asked: “Do you also support her method of calculating the electricity bill?” Lana was petty; she could make a mountain out of a molehill. That wasn’t surprising. But I never thought this calculation would include me. Obviously, Sarah had chosen to be on Lana’s boat. She bit her lip, avoiding my gaze, and said with a heavy heart: “Quinn, I think what Lana is doing is understandable.” “After all, both of us are on financial aid. Naturally, we have to calculate everything carefully and stretch every dollar.” “You’re not short on money, so don’t take advantage of us, okay?” Her tone was gentle and considerate. But underneath, it was pure moral kidnapping. I laughed out of extreme anger. Did they think I was stupid or just a pushover? I wasn’t going to be their ATM. “Alright, if that’s the case, let’s break everything down clearly.” “You said I use the kettle once a day? That’s because, Sarah, you like to drink that detox tea every night. That usage should be on your tab.” “On top of that, there’s a rental fee. Let’s call it a dollar per use.” Sarah’s face went stiff. She didn’t expect me to go after her first. After all, I had always defended her in the past. Ignoring her pitiful, pleading look, I continued logically: “And the hair dryer. Usually, because we’re roommates, I let you use it for free.” “Now, based on the standard of a laundromat dryer or a salon, you each owe me $10 for usage.” “In summary, Lana and Sarah, you owe me $10 and $15 respectively.” I calculated their debts in seconds, then flashed my own Venmo code. “Pay up.” “Once you pay what you owe me, we can talk about my electricity bill.” 3 But this time. The two who were just shouting at me fell silent one after another. I didn’t give an inch, returning Lana’s sarcastic words right back to her. “What? Trying to welch on the debt?” “Money is money. Just because you’re on financial aid, you think we can just let this slide?” “People need to have integrity.” It was like a slap in the face for both of them. Their faces turned green and then white. Lana roared in frustration: “Quinn, do you have to be so aggressive?” Sarah nodded along. “Yeah, Quinn.” “We were discussing this nicely, but you’re being so petty.” “Can you still expect us to cooperate with you on the group project?” The group project Sarah mentioned was tied to our final grade. At the beginning of the semester, everyone had already formed teams. If the group broke up halfway through, I probably wouldn’t find anyone to take me in. And this project was huge; it required multiple people to complete. In terms of being underhanded, Sarah was one step ahead. I couldn’t help but give her a thumbs up. “Sarah, you really can’t judge a book by its cover.” “You really know how to manipulate people!” I used to think she was innocent. I protected her several times, even making enemies for her sake. The result? She was sharper than anyone. Sarah played dumb. “Quinn, I’m just thinking of you.” “We don’t need to fight, just pay the money.” Too lazy to deal with her fake affection, I urged and threatened: “Are you going to scan it or not?” “If you don’t scan it, I’ll post about this on the campus Fizz app and let everyone judge who’s right.” 4 Sarah hit a wall, her face flushing red. While she hesitated, Lana had already rushed over, snatched her phone, and opened Venmo. “Scan it! Do you think we’re afraid of you?” “Lana, what are you doing?!” By the time Sarah reacted and wanted to stop her, it was too late. Lana moved fast. When she snatched the phone, she used Sarah’s fingerprint to unlock it. Scanned and paid. Afterward, Lana returned the phone to her and said triumphantly: “Sarah, you’re just too soft-hearted.” “Why waste breath on Quinn? Just give her the money.” “When she can’t finish the group project alone, she’ll come back begging us.” “By the way, I’m a little tight on cash right now. When I paid for you, I paid my share too.” “I’ll pay you back when I have money.” “I trust that someone as kind and understanding as you, Sarah, would be very willing to help me, right?” Sarah was so angry her face turned black. Breathing rapidly, her chest heaving violently. But Lana was thick-skinned, pretending not to see it, and turned back to rush me: “Now it’s your turn to pay us.” I glanced at Sarah’s dark face and didn’t hesitate. I transferred the $2.50. I exchanged $2.50 for $25. Why wouldn’t I be happy? I said: “Later, I’ll ask maintenance to install separate meters for our outlets. From now on, we pay for our own electricity.” “This is my suggestion, so you don’t need to pay for the installation.” “However, I have an apartment off-campus. I barely use the fridge and microwave here.” “So those two appliances will be on your meters.” “I won’t be splitting the bill anymore.” With that, I packed my bag and went to the library. The GREs were coming up; I didn’t have time to tangle with them.

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Damian Blackwood, the troubled heir of a powerful family, was terrified of thunderstorms. His autism made the sound unbearable. Usually, at times like this, he would be curled up in my arms, trembling, listening to me read to him through a pair of custom-made noise-canceling headphones. But tonight, the door to his bedroom was slightly ajar. I stood outside with a glass of warm milk and saw Lily Miller, her clothes half-off, draped over him like a serpent. A deafening clap of thunder split the sky. Damian arched his neck, a strangled scream tearing from his throat as cold sweat beaded on his skin. Lily didn’t soothe him. Instead, a thrill seemed to pass through her as she bit down on his shoulder, her fingers tracing the hard lines of his muscles with brazen confidence. I expected him to push her away. But his hands dug into her back, and a sound I’d never heard before—a low growl, twisted with both pain and pleasure—escaped his lips. The five-year care contract I had with the Blackwood family was set to expire in three days. It was time for me to leave. … The next day, Damian was burning with a high fever. Lily had dragged him out onto the terrace to spend half the night in the pouring rain, lost in their own madness. When I went to his room to bring him a cooling patch, Lily was perched casually on the edge of his bed, peeling an apple. The paring knife danced between her fingers, its blade glinting as it came dangerously close to Damian’s face time and again. Before, I would have snatched the knife away instantly, terrified that the sharp object might agitate him. But now, Damian was propped against the headboard, the whites of his eyes flushed red from the fever, his gaze utterly transfixed by the perilous gleam of the blade. “Irene, what are you doing here?” Damian’s voice was a low rasp, thick with a lazy, post-coital quality. “You didn’t take your medication last night.” I placed the cooling patch on the nightstand, my voice perfectly level. “Also, Mr. Blackwood wanted to know why you smashed the limited-edition sports car.” That car was my twenty-fifth birthday present to him. He’d once mentioned he liked it, so I bought it for him. Even though he couldn’t drive, I had wanted to make him happy. This morning, I found it in the garage—a mangled heap of scrap metal. “I told him to smash it.” Lily took a crisp bite of the apple and laughed. “Irene, you knew he couldn’t drive it. Were you trying to mock him? I took Damian to a junkyard, we each grabbed a sledgehammer, and we beat that thing to a pulp. You should have seen how happy he was.” She leaned closer to Damian, her fingers tracing a suggestive path along his feverish cheek. “Right, my lord?” Damian didn’t deny it. He captured her hand, raising it to his lips for a soft kiss, his eyes filled with a doting fondness. “Yeah. It felt good.” His gaze shifted to me, instantly turning to ice. “Irene, tell me how much the car cost. I’ll pay you double. And from now on, stay out of my business.” My heart felt like it had been struck by a sledgehammer. I looked at the man I had dedicated five years of my life to caring for. To protect his sensitive hearing, I’d given up wearing high heels. To guard his fragile pride, I never mentioned his condition to outsiders, always treating him with the respect due to a proper heir. I had cradled him so carefully, a fragile piece of porcelain I was terrified of shattering. But it turned out he never wanted my protection. He liked the destruction, the ruin, and the thrilling dance on the edge of morality that Lily brought him. “No need to pay me back.” I lowered my eyes, hiding the sting of tears. “It was a gift. What you do with it is your business.” As I turned to leave, I heard Lily’s playful complaints and the rustle of fabric from behind me. “Hey, stop moving around, you’re still running a fever…” “The fever makes it better,” Damian’s voice was a low, urgent murmur, laced with a raw, carnal desire I had never heard before. “It makes me feel more…” I closed the door, shutting the room’s debauchery behind me. Pulling out my phone, I dialed the number I had been hesitating over for so long. “Hello, Professor Davies? It’s Irene. About that special talent program you mentioned… I’ve decided to accept.” Memories flooded back, pulling me to that rainy night six months ago. Lily Miller first appeared at the Blackwood manor as a scholarship student I was sponsoring, coming to express her gratitude. I had found her being bullied by classmates earlier that day and had stepped in to chase them off. I invited her back to the house to change into some dry clothes. She stood shivering in her washed-out, threadbare school uniform, drenched to the bone like a drowned rat. She hesitated at the edge of the expensive Persian rug, afraid to even step on it for fear of leaving a stain. While I turned to get her a towel, Damian came downstairs. He, who was normally terrified of strangers, didn’t hide. Instead, he stared, mesmerized, at the water dripping from the ends of her hair. “Are you cold?” he asked. Lily looked up, her wide, doe-like eyes brimming with helplessness. “Your house is so big, Irene… I’m a little scared.” That day, for the first time ever, Damian took out his most treasured cashmere blanket and clumsily draped it over Lily’s shoulders. He looked at me and said, “Irene, don’t send her away. She’s like me.” I thought it was merely his compassion for someone weak. I never imagined it was the beginning of the farmer and the viper. Lily started visiting the manor frequently. She was smart; she knew exactly how to use her “vulnerability” to her advantage. Three months ago, I noticed my vanity had been disturbed. My mother’s only legacy—an antique sapphire bracelet—was lying in the trash can, broken in three pieces. It was the most precious thing I owned. Even when Damian was having a severe episode, I would guard it with my life, terrified he might break it. I confronted Lily, nearly mad with grief and anger. She shrank into the corner of the sofa, sobbing uncontrollably. “I’m so sorry, Irene… I just thought it was so beautiful, I wanted to try it on… I’ve never worn anything so nice… It was an accident…” I was shaking with fury. I raised my hand, about to order her out of the house. Before my hand could fall, I was shoved violently aside by a force that was shockingly strong. My lower back slammed into the sharp corner of a table, the pain so intense I couldn’t stand up straight. Damian stood in front of Lily, his eyes—the same eyes that had once looked at me with such dependence—now filled with disgust and suspicion. “That’s enough, Irene!” He shielded the girl behind him like a wolf protecting its cub. “Isn’t it just a stupid bracelet? How much is it worth? I’ll buy you ten, a hundred of them!” “It was my mother’s…” I explained, my eyes burning. “So what?” Damian cut me off, his logic simple and brutal. “Lily didn’t mean to do it. She’s poor, she’s never seen nice things. Why are you being such a bully? Look at her, you’ve scared her half to death!” He turned back to Lily, gently wiping the tears from her face, his voice a soft coo. “Don’t be afraid. I’m here. She won’t touch you.” The scene was a cruel parody of how I used to protect him from the taunts of his extended family. Only now, he was the towering protector, and I was the cruel, heartless abuser. Damian’s art studio had always been a sanctuary, off-limits to everyone in the house. Even the cleaning staff wasn’t allowed inside. Only I had a spare key. Because, as he used to say, I was the only one who was never a disturbance. Late one night, I heard a heavy crash from inside. I pushed the door open to find a scene of utter chaos. Expensive paints were splattered across the walls and floor. The pure white wool rug, meant for him to rest on, was covered in a rainbow of footprints. And Lily, holding a red paintbrush, was laughing as she smeared strokes of color across Damian’s bare chest. I had never seen him like this. He lay in the center of a rumpled canvas, a smile playing on his lips, letting the paint drip down the contours of his muscles. It was decadent. Depraved. And it burned my eyes. “Get out.” The moment he saw me, the smile vanished from his face, replaced by the hot, flushed anger of being caught. “Irene, who said you could come in without knocking?” My eyes fell to a sketch trampled underfoot. It was the birthday gift he had promised me—a half-finished portrait of me sleeping. Right now, the heel of Lily’s shoe was grinding into the eye of my likeness, leaving a dark, ugly smudge. I walked over, bending down to pick it up. “There’s broken glass on the floor, be careful not to cut yourself.” The words were pure instinct. But Lily let out a deliberate gasp as if I had startled her. She “slipped,” falling dramatically toward Damian. He instinctively reached out to catch her, but his elbow slammed hard into me. Thud. The impact sent me stumbling backward. I fell, my hand landing directly on a sharp, shattered piece of a ceramic palette. Blood instantly welled up, staining the already filthy rug a deep crimson. The air was dead silent for three seconds. Damian shoved Lily away, his eyes locked on my bleeding hand. His pupils contracted violently, and his body tensed as if he was about to rush over to me. But Lily timed her next move perfectly, wrapping her arms around his neck and whining, “Damian, you hurt me…” He froze. The familiar flicker of concern in his eyes vanished, replaced by a mask of cold indifference. “You’re the one who barged in here.”

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1 My café, The Midnight Quill, opens only from 1 to 3 a.m. We’re known for the Oblivion Latte. Tonight, the bell chimed and in walked my husband, Ralph. His eyes were bloodshot. He didn’t recognize me behind the mask. “I heard you can make a wish here,” he said hoarsely. He stepped closer. “I want to trade my lifetime of luck.” My heart skipped. Just yesterday, I’d told him my luck had run out this year. Had he really listened? A flicker of warmth rose, but his next words froze it. “In exchange, I want Daisy blessed with good fortune, always.” My blood ran cold. My name isn’t Daisy. It’s Mary. “Are you sure?” I whispered. “The name is Daisy?” “Positive,” he replied. I slid the ledger and quill toward him, then turned stiffly to make the coffee. “Write your name. In return, you’ll face lifelong misfortune.” He wrote quickly, a complex look in his eyes, and left without a word. After he was gone, I opened the ledger. The name written wasn’t his. It was mine. Mary. He wasn’t sacrificing his own luck. He was sacrificing mine. … It was ten past three when I finally left the café, hurrying home as I always did. But the name Daisy echoed in my mind, a persistent, chilling whisper. I had to fix this. Soon. I let myself into the house. The foyer was pitch black. I was used to the darkness, my fingers finding the hallway light switch by instinct. But as the warm, yellow light flooded the space, I froze. My husband, Ralph, was sitting on the living room sofa—a rare sight. Since our whirlwind romance had led to this convenient marriage of our two powerful families, he was almost always “busy at the office,” spending most of his nights there. He looked up, his gaze sharp. “You’re back. Where have you been so late?” I could hear the anger simmering beneath his calm tone. “Out,” I said, heading for the kitchen to get a glass of water. “It’s not safe for you to be out alone this late.” His voice softened unexpectedly. A traitorous warmth bloomed in my chest, only to be instantly frozen over by the memory of his wish. When I didn’t respond, a strange look crossed his face. “Mary,” he said, his voice much quieter now. “I’m sorry. My tone was out of line.” I watched him silently, waiting. I knew what was coming next. Sure enough, after a brief pause, he continued. “I’ve cleared my schedule for the next couple of days. I have to pick up my cousin from the airport tomorrow.” “She’s planning on staying for a while. It’s her first time back in the country in years, and she won’t know her way around. She might need you, her cousin-in-law, to help her get settled.” I turned my back to him, refusing to let him see the bitter disappointment in my eyes. He went on, listing details, big and small, of her arrival. After a long moment, I took a deep breath. “What’s your cousin’s name?” I asked, my voice eerily calm. Ralph seemed surprised by the question. “Her name is Daisy.” Thirty minutes ago, Ralph had traded my luck. He had used my name to mortgage my future. And now, he had canceled important meetings just to ask me to take care of her. The irony was suffocating. I ignored him and walked straight to our bedroom, shutting the door behind me. In the darkness, I slid down the wall, a silent, crushing grief washing over me. The bedroom was swallowed by a dead silence. I stared at the blurry outline of the ceiling, my body heavy with an exhaustion that went deeper than sleep. Through the not-quite-soundproof door, I heard his voice, deliberately lowered, drifting in from the living room. “Yes, I went to that place they talk about.” A pause. The person on the other end was likely expressing their shock. “Mary is my wife,” he said, and the sound of my name from his lips no longer brought me joy, only a bone-deep chill. “Of course I’ll take care of her. I’m responsible for her.” Then, his tone shifted, softening with a pity that was never meant for me. “But Daisy… she’s been having such a rough time lately. Her company is in trouble, investors are pulling out, her partner betrayed her. Even her car got hit for no reason.” “She’s not hurt, but she’s badly shaken.” “She’s never had to deal with anything like this in her entire life. It breaks my heart just hearing her talk about it.” His voice was thick with a tenderness I hadn’t heard in years. “She needs good luck. She needs things to go her way. Giving her Mary’s luck… it’s worth it.” And what about me? The person on the phone must have asked the same question, because Ralph’s next reply was laced with impatience. “Mary? Who cares if her luck is bad? It’s already been terrible lately. Another string of bad luck won’t make a difference. I’m her husband. I’ll make sure she doesn’t starve or freeze. I’ll take care of her.” With every word, the pain in my chest sharpened. My eyes burned, but no tears would come. I lay awake all night, his casual, dismissive voice echoing in my head. “Her bad luck won’t make a difference.” The first hint of dawn was breaking when I was jolted awake by a cheerful voice outside my door. “Ralph! Surprise! I changed my flight to an earlier one just to surprise you!” The bedroom door swung open, and she saw me. A brilliant smile lit up her face. “You must be Mary!” Daisy extended a hand. “It’s so nice to meet you. Ralph talks about you all the time. I hope I’m not intruding.” I subtly shifted my body away, avoiding her hand. Ralph’s brow furrowed. “Mary, she’s your family now. Don’t you even know basic manners?” “Sorry,” I replied coolly. “My hand hurts today. I don’t feel like shaking it.” My response left him speechless, his eyes flashing with reprimand. “Get dressed. We’re taking Daisy to the amusement park downtown today.” He didn’t ask if I wanted to go. It was an order. “Daisy loves crowds. It’ll be a good way for her to relax.” A wave of absurdity washed over me. I clenched my fists. “I’m not going. I have other things to do.” I remembered my mother had left me a quill, identical to the one in the shop, but this one was special. It was for making corrections. “Besides, amusement parks and I…” I didn’t get to finish explaining my deep-seated trauma with amusement parks. He cut me off harshly. “Mary, stop throwing a tantrum. It’s just one trip to the amusement park for Daisy’s sake. What’s the big deal?” My gaze turned to ice. “This is the last time.” Ralph stared at me. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I didn’t explain. I changed my clothes and got into the car with them. The atmosphere inside the car was thick with unspoken tension. I leaned against the window, determined to remain silent. But Daisy was a natural chatterbox, filling the space with stories of her time abroad. Eventually, she turned the conversation to Ralph. “Doesn’t Ralph drive you crazy sometimes, Mary? He’s like my dad, always nagging me.” She sighed dramatically. “I have to report everything I do to him, every single detail. Doesn’t he have his own work to do?” Oh, he was busy. He was definitely busy. So busy he never came home. So busy that for my mother’s funeral, he only sent his assistant with a check. To me, he was a silent, unmovable iceberg, stingy with even the slightest warmth. But for Daisy, he was a protective harbor. The difference between being cared for and being ignored was devastatingly clear. As we pulled into the amusement park, the faint sound of cheerful music reached us. Brightly colored balloons drifted by, and the smell of cotton candy filled the air. Every sight, every sound, was a painful reminder of a past I tried to forget. Daisy’s excited voice seemed to reach me through a thick pane of glass. “Mary! Let’s go on that one!” She was pointing at the massive roller coaster at the center of the park. “Ralph never used to let me ride it. Will you come with me, please?” Coasters. Cars. Tracks. My mother had died in a car crash. But looking at Daisy’s sparkling, innocent eyes, the word “no” died on my lips. It wasn’t her fault. She didn’t know. She grabbed my hand and practically skipped to the ride, pulling me along. As the safety bar clicked down, she chattered excitedly beside me. The coaster began its slow, clanking ascent to the highest peak. The feeling of weightlessness, the screams from the riders in front and behind us—it was an assault on my nerves. I squeezed my eyes shut, my heart feeling like it was sinking into a dark ocean. My limbs grew stiff. Just as the train plunged into a high-speed loop, it happened. My bad luck struck. The roller coaster stopped. Not a gentle halt, but a violent, screeching jolt that left us dangling upside down, high above the ground. Panic erupted. The screams of excitement turned into terrified sobs. Daisy’s happy shrieks became whimpers of fear. “Mary, I’m scared! What’s happening? Are we going to fall?” I couldn’t answer her. The sudden stop had slammed my head and arm against the metal railing beside me. A searing, white-hot pain shot through me. It was agony to even move. After fifteen minutes of chaos, rescue workers finally got us down. The pain in my arm had faded to a dull, throbbing numbness. The blood on my forehead had dried, matting my hair. We were taken to the hospital. The emergency room was stark white, the air sharp with the smell of antiseptic. Doctors and nurses surrounded me, tending to my wounds. Daisy’s luck was almost frightening. Other than being terrified, she was completely unscathed. Her legs were so weak she could barely stand, so she just sat in a chair, waiting for me. Suddenly, the ER doors burst open. Ralph rushed in, breathless and disheveled, his suit jacket unbuttoned. His eyes immediately found Daisy. “Daisy! Are you okay? You must have been so scared! Are you hurt anywhere?” “Ralph,” she sobbed, the tears finally coming. The relief and terror of her near-death experience washed over her. “I was so scared… I thought I was never going to see you again.” He pulled her into a fierce hug, his hand gently stroking her back. “It’s okay. You’re safe now. It’s all over.” The sight of his tender care was a knife in my heart. I looked away, staring up at the fluorescent lights on the ceiling. Only then did Ralph’s gaze shift to me. But there was no concern in his eyes. Only blame. “Mary! What is wrong with you?” His anger was a palpable force. “Is this how you look after her? Didn’t you know she has a heart condition? That she can’t handle dangerous rides?” Daisy tugged weakly at his sleeve. “Ralph, it was me…” “Don’t defend her,” he snapped. “Let’s go. If your cousin-in-law won’t take you to have fun, I will.” And with that, he led Daisy out of the room. He never gave me a chance to explain. Through the partially open door, I heard his voice, cold as ice. “Stay away from her from now on. Her bad luck is contagious. You’ll catch it if you’re around her.” A bitter, self-mocking smile touched my lips. The one responsible for all my bad luck… was you, wasn’t it? I decided against waiting for any more treatment. I called a cab and went straight to my family’s old estate. I had to get that quill. I had to fix his mistake.

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The day the “NYC Princess” returned from studying abroad, she broke the internet. All because she tagged me in a post: “Do all movie queens nowadays enjoy hooking up with other people’s boyfriends?” I was completely baffled. Then the hottest young actor of the moment immediately declared his stance: “I firmly reject the casting couch. In this life, I only love Cherry!” The entertainment industry went wild with likes and shares. Anti-fans flooded my comments, telling me to get out of showbiz. Brands started canceling my contracts one after another. I was blacklisted by the entire internet. Later, the “NYC Princess,” Cherry Lu, livestreamed her engagement party with that hot young actor. But the ceremony never started. Because the real head of the Lu family, and the wife he pampered above all else, hadn’t arrived yet. 01 I woke up to my phone blowing up. My agent, Ursula, had called me fifty times. The moment I picked up, her panicked voice screamed through the speaker: “Elara! How did you end up hitting on the NYC Princess’s boyfriend?!” My eyes popped open. Ursula sounded like the sky had fallen as she urged me to check social media. I opened the app and saw the post from Cherry Lu, the “Princess” who had just returned from Europe: “Do all movie queens nowadays enjoy hooking up with other people’s boyfriends?” Attached was a blurry photo of me and the actor Caleb at an event last night. In the photo, my back was to the camera, my expression hidden. Caleb was facing the lens, frowning deeply. Last night, after an event, I ran into Caleb on my way out. Usually, we had zero interaction. But last night, he approached me, extending a hand as if for a polite handshake. I shook it out of courtesy. But then he tried to press a slip of paper into my palm, winking at me. He lowered his voice, putting on a sickeningly fake tone: “Sister, if you’re bored, give me a call. I’m always available~” I was instantly revolted. I shoved the paper back into his hand—which was the moment caught on camera where he frowned! I remembered walking away immediately, disgusted. How did this turn into me trying to solicit him?! I was about to clarify when I saw another post trending at the top. Caleb had replied under Cherry’s post: “I firmly reject the casting couch. In this life, I only love Cherry!” The internet exploded. [OMG! I thought the Princess was joking! It’s real!] [Joking? Does a Princess have time for jokes?] [Maybe it’s a misunderstanding…] [What misunderstanding? Do you think Caleb would ignore a literal Princess to chase Elara?] Since my debut, I’ve had as many haters as fans. They were having a field day in Cherry’s comments section. I explained the situation to Ursula. She cursed immediately: “That little punk! He’s playing dirty! He’s projecting his own sleaziness onto you!” Ursula and I have worked together for years. She knows me. She believed me. She frantically tried to contact Cherry’s team to explain, but before she could, another post went up. Cherry posted a screenshot of Ursula’s call log, tagging me again: “Ha, interesting. You think my boyfriend would look at you? Where do you get the confidence?” “So eager to sleep your way up! Is it a habit? I bet that Best Actress award wasn’t earned cleanly either, was it?” [Ahhh, Princess Cherry is savage! Tell it like it is!] [Support the Princess cleaning up the industry!] [I like this attitude! I always thought Elara didn’t deserve that award. Turns out it was dirty!] [Does Elara have a death wish? Messing with the NYC Princess’s man?] Ursula was furious. “What does she mean? Does she think her boyfriend is some kind of prize everyone wants?!” I was furious too. But before I could speak, I felt a strong arm wrap around my waist and a pinch. “Hush.” On the other end of the line, Ursula paused, then roared: “You dare tell me to hush?!” “Sorry, Ursula, not you.” I glared at the man beside me. He nuzzled his face against my cheek. “Wifey…” At this distance, Ursula definitely heard him. Before she could explode again, I hung up. I turned to look at Liam. He pulled me into his arms and kissed my forehead. “Wifey, kiss…” Looking at Liam’s face, I narrowed my eyes. I snapped a photo of him and posted it directly online: Thanks for the concern. Married. Don’t flatter yourself. My husband is hotter than yours. 02 Liam. The youngest head of the Lu family empire. He grew up overseas. The media only knew that the elusive head of the Lu family was married, but no one knew what he or his wife looked like. Even within the Lu family, aside from Old Man Lu, few knew him. When I posted that photo, the internet broke. My agent broke too. Ursula stormed into my house. She was raging, but the moment she saw Liam, she froze. “Hello, I’m Liam.” Liam nodded slightly, greeting her. He looked even better in person than in the photo. Ursula stared blankly: “H-hello… I… I’m Elara’s agent, Ursula. Here’s my card.” She snapped back to reality and immediately started scouting him: “With a face like that, you were born for showbiz! Mr. Liam, consider it. One year—no, six months! I can make you a superstar!” Liam smiled politely: “No thanks.” He turned toward the kitchen: “Wifey, you guys talk. I’ll wash some fruit for you.” Ursula turned to me, eyes wide: “Talk! Who is this guy?! When did you get married? Why didn’t I know?!” “Cough. Two years ago.” “Two years?!” Ursula’s voice went up an octave. “You hid this from me for two years?!” I patted her hand soothingly: “If you found out later, it would have been hidden even longer.” Ursula looked like she wanted to strangle me. Once she calmed down, she got back to business: “Do you know that because of the NYC Princess, all the major brands are canceling your contracts?! The company wants to squeeze the last bit of value out of you. They want to put you and your husband on a reality show!” “No way!” I refused immediately. Me on a show is fine. But Liam? The head of a global conglomerate acting like a monkey for viewers? “If you don’t, the company terminates you! The penalty fees will wipe out everything you’ve earned!” I was about to argue when Liam walked out of the kitchen. “A reality show? Sure. I can experience my wife’s work.” Ursula beamed. “It’s a deal!” She ran out before I could say a word. At the door, she turned back: “Caleb and the Princess will be on the show too. Be careful. She’s powerful. Don’t clash with them!” Me: … 03 The news that I, the “Princess,” and Caleb were going on a variety show swept the trending topics. Netizens mocked me relentlessly. [Tsk, what is the director thinking? Inviting that trash Elara and her fake husband? My eyes!] [That guy is definitely Photoshopped! Bringing a plastic surgery face to whitewash herself?] [Anyone helping Elara isn’t a good person!] [I hate Elara’s morals, but her face is top tier. Prettier than the Princess!] [Pretty? So what? She’s a homewrecker! No one knew she was married before. Suddenly popping up with a husband? Probably a paid actor!] Reading the comments, I got angry. Insult me all you want. But insulting Liam? No. I hopped on my main account and started firing back: “Is your brain filled with water? Do you think before you type?” “Did you skip evolution?” “Pickled your mouth for a few years? It’s pretty sour.” Unsurprisingly, #ElaraHasNoClass trended #1. 04 The show started three days later. When Liam and I arrived, the director immediately pointed cameras at him. It was a livestream. When the close-up hit Liam’s face, the chat, which was there to mock us, went silent, then exploded. [Holy… that guy is genuinely hot! Not Photoshop?! Where did she find this actor? I want one!] [He’s actually hotter than Caleb…] [Who knows if it’s plastic? If he was that hot, he’d be famous already!] I scanned the room. Caleb was already there. Beside him sat a young woman in an expensive white couture dress, chin held high, radiating arrogance. They sat close, intimate. Seeing me, Caleb walked over first, extending a hand to Liam. “Hello, I’m Caleb.” The comments scrolled by. [Boohoo, Caleb is so gracious. Elara tried to seduce him, yet he’s still a gentleman. If it were me, I’d vomit seeing her!] Liam looked cold. He shook Caleb’s hand. “Liam.” Caleb nodded, but a second later, his expression changed. He tried to pull his hand back, but he couldn’t move it. Liam’s face didn’t change at all. I knew Liam was venting for me. But the Princess wasn’t happy. She scowled: “Caleb, why are you shaking hands with trash?” Caleb smiled weakly. The comments praised the Princess for being “domineering.” I smiled too: “Liam, did you get your rabies shot? If not, we’ll go later.” The chat exploded! [WTF? Elara dared to call the Princess a dog in public?!] [Who gave her the guts?!] [Disgusting woman!] Liam nodded seriously at me: “We’ll go later.” Our banter turned Cherry’s face black. Her fans and Caleb’s fans lost it. [Is she crazy? Does she know who she’s talking to?!] [Arrogant! Elara thinks one award makes her invincible? Or does she think her sugar daddy can protect her? Our Princess is the only daughter of the Lu family! Offend her, and Elara is finished!] I caught the info in the comments. Lu family? I raised an eyebrow: “Which Lu family?” The chat answered instantly: [The Lu Group in NYC, obviously! Scared now?!] I looked at Liam: “Your relative?” Liam frowned: “Never met her.” He looked at Cherry: “I’m a Lu too. Why haven’t I seen you?” Silence. Cherry’s expression shifted. She pulled out her phone and started a video call. A middle-aged woman appeared on screen, bowing respectfully: “Miss.” Cherry pointed the camera at Liam: “Have you seen this person at the Lu estate?” The woman looked Liam up and down, then shook her head: “Never seen him.” The chat went wild. [That’s the Lu family housekeeper! I’ve seen her in news clips!] [Omg, the background is the famous Jasmine Manor! So beautiful!] [This guy is such a poser. Tried to pretend to be a NYC Lu and got slapped in the face instantly!] [Does he have brain damage?] While the chat roasted Liam, on set, the actress standing next to Cherry, Jojo, laughed out loud. “Just because your surname is Lu doesn’t mean you’re the Lu family. Some people need self-awareness.” The crew laughed along. Caleb stepped in to smooth things over: “I see a lot of fans want to see the Lu family’s JW Manor. Cherry, what do you think?” Cherry lifted her chin: “No problem. Crew, arrange it.” The director was ecstatic! “Thank you, Miss Lu! We’re in for a treat!” [Ahhh! JW Manor is legendary! Worth billions!] [We are blessed by Princess Cherry today! Elara, see that? Even if you find a handsome boy toy, our Princess lives in a place your salary couldn’t buy in ten lifetimes!] [Don’t say that. Elara has sugar daddies. Maybe their combined assets equal Cherry’s pinky toe…] Cherry enjoyed the praise. She walked past me, sneering: “Elara, trying to fight me for Caleb with that? Look in a mirror.” She walked away without waiting for a reply.

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By day, I am a nondescript corporate drone, buried in spreadsheets and coffee runs. By night, I am a hacker known only as “Owl,” a legend in the dark web. Today, my boss, Asher Sterling, trashed my project proposal for the 1,001st time. I decided to exact a little petty revenge. I breached his personal firewall and hacked into his private laptop. I expected dirty financial secrets or maybe an illicit affair. Instead, I found a folder gigabytes deep. It was full of photos of me. Later, he cornered me against the office wall, his voice a low, dangerous rumble: “You think you’re so clever with code? Why don’t you hack into my brain right now… And tell me exactly what I want to do to you?” 1 I was currently standing in Asher Sterling’s office, ostensibly to give a report. In reality, it was a standoff. He held the card that he knew I was a hacker. I held the card that I knew he was a creep who secretly photographed his employees. We stared at each other in a heavy, suffocating silence, waiting for the other to blink. Asher was the quintessential CEO—young, devastatingly handsome, and the heir to the Sterling Group empire. He was known for his ruthless efficiency and impossible standards. While half the office swooned over his sharp jawline and tailored suits, I, sitting directly across from his glass-walled office, only knew the pain of his nitpicking. Yesterday, he shredded my marketing plan in front of the team. So, I went home and shredded his digital privacy. It took me less than ten minutes to bypass his encryption. But the contents of that hidden folder were like a bomb going off in my face. Photos. Hundreds of them. Me at my desk. Me waiting for the subway. Me eating with friends. Even photos of me on a disastrous blind date last week. I had slammed his laptop shut, terrified. Who knew the polished, icy CEO was actually a stalker? “Riley, you seem distracted today.” Asher’s voice was calm, but it carried an underlying pressure that snapped me back to the present. “Was I too harsh yesterday? I just expect perfection.” Stop acting, you psycho, I thought. “No, sir. It’s my own issue.” I tried to keep my voice steady. I can face down government firewalls and cyber-terrorists without sweating, but this pervert boss had me trembling. He suddenly stood up and walked around his massive oak desk, stopping right in front of me. He leaned down, his voice dropping to a whisper. “If only you applied the same dedication to your marketing proposals as you do to your extracurricular activities. Isn’t that right… Owl?” The shame of having my handle spoken aloud in a corporate office was paralyzing. I stepped back, my eyes darting to the door. It was closed. Asher usually kept the door open during meetings with female staff to maintain propriety. Today, the latch had clicked shut, extinguishing my last hope of escape. He stepped closer. The scent of sandalwood and expensive cologne filled my senses. “You hacked me,” he stated, not asking. There was no point in denying it. He held my employment contract and my year-end bonus in his hand. My brain was running a mile a minute, calculating escape routes, when he spoke again, his tone unhurried. “Cancel your blind date this weekend. We need to talk. Consider it a short business trip.” Great. My CPU just fried. I was too terrified to even ask if I’d get paid overtime. 2 The weekend arrived, and Asher was punctual. A sleek, silver sports car pulled up in front of my rinky-dink apartment building, looking violently out of place. This was our first meeting outside the office. I was awkward; he was transformed. Gone was the three-piece suit. He wore a grey hoodie under a denim jacket. Stripped of his corporate armor, he looked younger, almost approachable. The morning sun hit the sharp angles of his face, softening his usual glare. He was unfairly good-looking. I got in, and he broke the silence. “Let’s go. I’m taking you to meet someone.” “Okay.” A good subordinate follows orders. A terrified subordinate doesn’t ask questions to avoid being murdered in the woods. The car wound its way out of the city and up into the mountains. My internal cinema was playing a horror movie: The CEO’s Dungeon. Just as I was preparing to tuck and roll out of the moving vehicle, a magnificent building appeared through the trees. It wasn’t a dungeon. It was a high-end wellness facility. Asher parked and led me toward a garden. In the distance, a nurse was pushing a wheelchair. In it sat a girl, pale and delicate as a porcelain doll. Asher’s demeanor changed instantly. He rushed over, taking a blanket from the nurse and gently tucking it around the girl’s legs. His face was filled with a tenderness I didn’t know he possessed. “Asher, you came,” the girl said. Her voice was weak but sweet. “I promised, didn’t I? Whenever I’m not busy.” Before he could finish, the girl, Lily, saw me standing a few feet away. Her eyes widened in panic. “Asher! Who is she? Why did you bring a stranger?!” She shrank back into her chair, trembling. “Mr. Sterling, we discussed this,” the nurse chided gently. “Lily isn’t ready for visitors.” Asher patted my arm, signaling me to step forward. “Lily, she’s not a stranger. She’s…” “NO! Get her away! I don’t want her here!” Lily screamed, tears instantly streaming down her face. Asher didn’t leave. He hugged his sister tightly, signaling me with his eyes to give them space. I felt like I was walking on needles. I turned and ran out of the garden. Was this his secret girlfriend? Was he showing me his “collection”? I ran until I was outside the main gate. The sign read: Sterling Hill Sanctuary. I wandered aimlessly into the nearby woods, trying to process the scene. The trees were dense, the air fresh, but my mind was a mess. I realized too late that I had left my phone in Asher’s car. I had walked off the main path and now, with the sun setting and the temperature dropping, I was completely lost. Fear and frustration bubbled up. My boss is a stalker, he has a secret girl in a mental facility, and now I’m going to freeze to death in the woods without even getting overtime pay. I squatted down and burst into tears. “I’m sorry. Are you done crying? It was my fault, I rushed things.” A gentle voice sounded behind me. I jumped. “You’re a CEO, not a ninja! Why do you walk so silently?!” Asher handed me a tissue and my phone. “Wipe your face. Let’s go back. I couldn’t reach you; I was worried.” He took off his denim jacket and draped it over my shoulders. It was warm and smelled like him. “It’s cold in the mountains.” He held the edge of the sleeve, guiding me back to the path like a lost child. We walked in silence until we reached the car. He turned on the heater and buckled my seatbelt. As his arm brushed past me, I smelled the faint scent of floral shampoo—Lily’s scent. My heart sank a little. “Riley,” he said, staring out the windshield. “Do you remember a user named ‘SakuraRain’?” 3 My brain buzzed. SakuraRain. The name dragged me back to my college days. Before I was “Owl,” I was just a lonely nerd online. I had a small group of gaming friends. We never met, but we talked about everything. My closest friend was SakuraRain. She was sweet, naive, and clearly wealthy based on the limited-edition merchandise she posted photos of. But the internet is a cruel place. One day, our private chat logs were leaked. Netizens saw a teenage girl spending thousands on anime figures and “useless junk.” The hate train arrived instantly. They called her a spoiled brat, a waste of space, undeserving of wealth. They doxxed her. They posted her school, her photos, her address. They sent death threats. The girl in the photos had a sweet, chubby face and a smile like a crescent moon. The internet turned her into a monster. The group chat went silent. SakuraRain never spoke again. She just quietly left the group. A week later, I received a package. It was a box of rare collectibles I had admired. A note inside read: I don’t know why, but I feel like it wasn’t you who leaked it. But I’m sorry, I can’t face this world anymore. I want to start over. I tried to reply: You did nothing wrong. But I only got a red exclamation mark. User not found. That was the day I stopped being a gamer and started learning code. I became Owl. I hunted down the leaker—another girl in the group, a minor who did it out of jealousy. The law couldn’t touch her. So I became a vigilante. I nuked the hate accounts, scrubbed the doxxing info, and terrified the trolls. But SakuraRain never came back online. I sat in the passenger seat, tears streaming down my face again as the memory hit me. Asher didn’t look at me, but I saw his knuckles turn white on the steering wheel. “Lily is my sister,” he said softly. “Our parents separated. She lived with our mother and changed her name. That’s why you didn’t connect her to the Sterling family.” “She was so bright. But the cyberbullying broke her. She attempted… she tried to leave us.” “We sent her abroad for treatment, gave her a new identity. But she still relapses. She reads the old comments. She hurts herself.” He took a breath. “I investigated the old accounts involved in the bullying. I found that someone had systematically destroyed them years ago. All the trails led back to a single, anonymous IP.” “You were careful, Riley. It took my security team two years to identify ‘Owl’ as my quiet marketing assistant.” He turned to me, his eyes red. “Those photos on my laptop? They weren’t me stalking you. They were from the private investigator I hired to confirm your identity. I wanted to know who had protected my sister when I couldn’t.” He leaned in, his voice barely a whisper. “Your attention to detail as a hacker is much better than your marketing plans.” I laughed through my tears. Even now, he was roasting my work. “Riley, thank you. When Lily is better, I want to introduce you properly. She needs her friend back.” “Okay,” I sniffled. That night, my heart wouldn’t stop racing. The photos weren’t a perversion; they were proof of gratitude. The terrifying boss was just a brother trying to save his sister. And damn it, he looked really good when he wasn’t scowling. 4 I thought our relationship would remain professional, perhaps slightly warmer. But a crisis threw us together. A month before the launch of our flagship product, the blueprints were stolen. A rival company had bypassed our firewall. Asher was furious, the tech team was panicked. If this leaked, Sterling Corp would lose millions. As a marketing employee, I should have been worried about brochures. As Owl, I took it as a personal insult. I went to Asher’s office and locked the door. “Let me handle it.” He looked at me, silent for a moment, then nodded. “Do it.” The opponent was good. They bypassed the national firewall and went straight for the core data. It was a war. Lines of code cascaded down my screen. My fingers flew across the mechanical keyboard. Honeypot set. Traffic analyzed. Counter-measures deployed. I wasn’t the meek Riley anymore. In the ocean of binary, I was a god. Asher sat nearby, silent, watching me. Hours passed. I forgot to eat. When I finally blinked, a warm cup of coffee and a slice of cake appeared next to my hand. No words, just support. By 3 AM, I had them. I not only blocked the attack but traced their IP, broke into their system, and planted a trojan that would corrupt their stolen files. “Got them,” I whispered, leaning back in my chair, exhausted. Asher stood up. His eyes were shining. He grabbed my hands. “You are incredible, Riley. I don’t know what I would have done without you.” Realizing he was holding my hands, he quickly let go, reverting to his cool demeanor. I smirked. “Mr. Sterling, I checked the logs. You hired an external white-hat team too, didn’t you? They were good, but I was faster.” He shrugged, unashamed. “A CEO always has a backup plan. But you won.” The product launch was a success. Asher kept my identity secret, crediting an “external security consultant.” That night, he invited me to dinner to celebrate. I dressed up—heels, makeup, the works. I expected a team dinner. When I walked into the VIP room, it was just him. Candlelight flickered. He stood up, looking like he stepped out of GQ. The suit fit perfectly. He pulled out my chair. “Thank you,” he said, raising a glass of wine. “For everything. I wish I could tell the world it was you.” “It’s better this way,” I said. “Owl likes the dark.” The wine flowed. We talked about everything—Lily, coding, movies, life. The alcohol made me bold. We moved to the balcony to look at the city skyline. He put his jacket over my shoulders again. “Riley,” he said, turning to face me. The city lights reflected in his eyes. “I started investigating you because of Lily. I thought I was just curious. But the more I learned, the more I couldn’t look away.” “You live such a simple life by day, and save the world by night. It drove me crazy watching you go on those blind dates.” He stepped closer. “That doesn’t excuse you being a jerk about my marketing plans,” I teased, my heart hammering. “I know. I’m sorry.” He gazed at me, intense and vulnerable. “Can you forgive me? Can I… take care of you? Be my girlfriend, Riley.” I looked at his lips. “You’re the boss,” I whispered. “You make the decisions.” He didn’t need to be told twice. He kissed me, and the scent of sandalwood and wine wrapped around us.

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1 I returned from my tour of duty to find that my sister, the only family I had left, had died under mysterious circumstances during a routine appendectomy. After twelve official appeals to the hospital were rejected, I went underground for three years. I clawed my way into the life of the city’s wealthiest family, the Thornes, and became the fiancé of their heiress. At the altar, during my own wedding, I put a bullet through my father-in-law’s chest. Amid the screams of the wedding guests, I dragged his bleeding wife onto the dais and pressed the barrel of my gun to her temple. “Celeste,” I said to my bride, “you have fifteen minutes to give me the name of the person who murdered my sister three years ago. Judging by the bleeding from your mother’s femoral artery, that’s all the time she has left.” My fiancée sobbed, begging me to stop. Her adopted brother screamed that he would see me rot in prison for the rest of my life. I ignored them. I pulled the trigger again, sending a round through my mother-in-law’s left arm. “The clock is ticking. You have ten minutes now.” I knew, with absolute certainty, that my sister’s killer was in this room. … Another shot rang out, and the wedding reception dissolved into pure chaos. People screamed and scrambled for the exits, some collapsed in fear, while others huddled in corners, staring at me in horror. My fiancée, Celeste Thorne, fought to control her trembling and took a shaky step forward. Her voice was a strained whisper, trying for calm. “Jaxon, please, calm down… We are all heartbroken about what happened to Phoebe. But you can’t hurt innocent people like this. You were a soldier. You know better than anyone that violence solves nothing… Your sister wouldn’t want to see you become this.” Before she could finish, her adopted brother, Elias, lunged forward, roaring with fury, only to be held back by the bodyguards. His eyes were bloodshot as he pointed at me, spitting venom. “Jaxon! Are you out of your goddamn mind?! Your sister died because she hid her anesthesia allergy! The hospital’s conclusion was final! Your twelve appeals were all rejected because the evidence was irrefutable! You planned this, didn’t you? You wanted to ruin my family! My parents treated you like a son, and this is how you repay them?!” Hearing this, the guests began to murmur their agreement, their voices a mixture of contempt and fear. “Is he insane? His sister died, so he gets to blame everyone else? Kidnapping and murder? He’s a monster!” “I heard she didn’t tell them she was allergic to the anesthetic. The hospital explained everything, but he refused to believe it. He filed a dozen complaints and got nowhere, and now he’s doing this?” “If twelve appeals failed, it must have been an accident, right? If there was a killer, they would have found them by now!” They had their version of the truth. I had mine. My sister, Phoebe, would never have hidden her allergy. Our parents died when we were young. I was sixteen when I started raising my ten-year-old sister on my own. She was frail, always sick. Every pill, every injection, she was meticulously careful, terrified of something going wrong. The day I left for basic training, I stroked her hair and made her promise. “Listen to me. No matter what, if you ever have surgery, you tell them about your allergy. Don’t you ever forget.” She nodded fiercely. “I know, Jaxon. I promise.” The day of her appendectomy, I was on my final mission. I couldn’t be there. All I could do was call and remind her one last time. “Don’t worry, big brother,” she’d said, her voice bright with laughter. “I’ve already told the doctor everything.” But when I came home, all that was waiting for me was her cold, lifeless body. The hospital’s official cause of death was cardiac arrest due to an allergic reaction to anesthesia. I didn’t believe it. I demanded an autopsy. The medical examiner made a horrifying discovery: Phoebe’s heart was missing. When I confronted the hospital director with the report, he just laughed and tore it to shreds. “Don’t be ridiculous, Jaxon. Your sister’s body was already cremated. What proof do you have that her heart was gone?” I stormed down to the morgue, but it was too late. Her body was already being pushed into the incinerator. The next day, the medical examiner who had found the missing heart changed his story completely, insisting he’d never seen any such thing. I went back again and again, demanding answers. Each time, the director had security throw me out. The last time, he stood on the steps, looking down at me with contempt. “Give it up, Jaxon. You’re a nobody in this city. You can’t move the mountains that stand in your way.” I tried going to the authorities, to the media, but no one would listen. It was only later that I learned the truth. The hospital was owned by the Thorne family, the wealthiest and most powerful family in the city. They were the ones burying the story. Everyone told me to let it go. But every time I closed my eyes, I saw my sister’s pale, lifeless face. She would never forget her allergy. And her heart wouldn’t just vanish into thin air. So today, the Thornes were going to give me an answer. I tuned out the accusations, the curses, the pleas. After three years of planning, I knew everything. But I was just one man against an empire. That’s why it had to be today. At Celeste’s wedding, in front of every news camera in the city, under the watchful eyes of the entire world, I would force them to confess. My gaze swept over the sea of cameras, my voice cutting through the noise, cold and clear. “Your mother has eight minutes left before she bleeds to death.” Panic finally broke through Celeste’s composure. She staggered forward, her voice trembling. “Jaxon… please… don’t hurt my mother… she’s all I have left!” She spun around and screamed, “Get the director! Now!” A moment later, the hospital director, who had been a guest at the wedding, was dragged to the front. He wiped the sweat from his brow, trying to appear calm. “Mr. Jaxon, I’ve explained this countless times… Your sister’s death was a tragic accident caused by her failure to disclose her allergy. That is the undeniable truth.” He shakily pulled a stack of documents from his briefcase and spread them out before me. I’d seen this so-called “proof” a hundred times before: falsified anesthesia records, forged consent forms, testimony from bribed doctors… a web of carefully constructed lies. I let out a cold laugh and pulled the trigger. BANG! The bullet tore through his wife’s wrist, and blood sprayed across the white tablecloth. “Six minutes,” I said calmly. Elias completely lost it, screaming as he tried to break free from the guards. “You’re insane! You’re a monster! We gave you the proof, what more do you want?!” I looked at his contorted face and smiled. “You can’t bear to see your mother suffer, can you, Elias? Did you ever stop to think that when my sister died, she didn’t even have a complete body left to bury?” The room erupted. “He’s seen the evidence! He just won’t accept it!” “This is a paranoid delusion! Does he think he can just ignore the law?!” “Where are the police? They should just shoot this maniac on sight!” The insults washed over me, but I didn’t flinch. My eyes were locked on the director, my voice like a poisoned blade. “I want the real killer. I want the evidence you’ve worked so hard to hide. Stop trying to fool me with these forgeries, or the next bullet will be fatal.” The director’s face was ashen. He kept glancing nervously at Celeste, sweat beading on his forehead. I knew he was close to breaking. Seeing this, Celeste slowly approached, her hands raised in a placating gesture. “Jaxon, I understand your pain. What do you want? We can form a special investigation team, right now, to reopen your sister’s case.” She kept talking, inching closer with every word. “But an investigation takes time. Why don’t you let my mother get medical attention first? Or… you could take me as a hostage instead.” I watched her performance with cold eyes, my gaze flicking to the unnatural bulge at the side of her wedding dress. It was the distinct outline of a handgun. I had spent three years learning everything about Celeste Thorne. She wasn’t just a business powerhouse; she was a black belt in taekwondo and a crack shot who held the record at her private gun range. A smirk touched my lips. “Did you really think I didn’t know your right hand is three inches from your holster, Celeste?” I deliberately moved the barrel of my gun, aiming it at her mother’s chest. “Take one more step, and your mother will bleed out in thirty seconds.” Celeste’s pupils contracted. She froze. Behind her, the bodyguards tensed, their fingers on their own triggers. The air in the ballroom was thick enough to choke on, broken only by the pained moans of the woman on the stage. I noticed the director trying to sneak away into the crowd. “Director, stop right there!” I barked. Every head in the room turned to watch the cowardly man. “It seems our esteemed director knows where the real investigation should begin.” Celeste’s expression flickered. She shot a look at her bodyguards. Two of them immediately seized the director and dragged him back. His white coat was soaked with sweat, his legs shaking uncontrollably. “Five minutes.” I stared at my watch, my voice terrifyingly calm. “Your mother has five minutes left. Director, are you going to watch your boss’s wife die in front of you, or are you going to tell us what really happened in that operating room three years ago?” “I have all the time in the world to play this game, Celeste. Your mother doesn’t.” “What’s it going to be? Are you really willing to sacrifice your own mother to protect a criminal?” My words struck a nerve. Celeste’s hands, hanging at her sides, clenched into fists, her whole body trembling. The director’s face was slick with sweat as his eyes darted between me and Celeste. Just as she was hesitating, biting her lip, the main doors of the ballroom burst open. Elias, who had slipped out at some point, strode back in, dragging a familiar figure with him. He grinned maliciously. “Jaxon! If you won’t believe us, surely you’ll believe her!” My hand, the one holding the gun, went rigid. Standing next to Elias was Clara, my childhood sweetheart. She was wearing a simple white dress, her eyes red and swollen as she looked at me. The girl who had promised to spend her life with me was now standing with my enemies. Her voice was choked with tears. “Jaxon… please, put the gun down. You always dreamed of being a soldier, of protecting people. How can you hurt innocent…” A sharp pain lanced through my chest. This was the girl my sister and I had treated like family. “Clara, do you remember when Phoebe was fifteen? How she worked three secret jobs to save up and buy you that dress you wanted for your birthday?” Clara’s fingers twisted the fabric of her dress. “Do you remember when your father was in the hospital? Who stayed with him every single day for two weeks? It was Phoebe.” My voice grew colder. “And this is how you repay her? By helping them cover up her murder?” The ballroom was dead silent. I couldn’t understand it. How could everyone, even Clara, be protecting the killer? Clara avoided my gaze, but her voice was firm. “Jaxon, Phoebe really did die because of her allergy… I’m not lying to you. The hospital isn’t lying. I was there. I saw her sign the consent form with my own eyes…” “Is that so?” I sneered. “Then where is her heart? Does an allergic reaction make your heart disappear?” I tried to keep my voice steady, but the slight tremor in my hand betrayed me. “Clara, look me in the eye and tell me you’re telling the truth. Do you have proof? Or is someone forcing you to lie? Don’t be afraid. Today is our chance. I will get justice for Phoebe!” Clara kept her head down, her voice barely a whisper as she pulled a folder from her bag. “I do have proof!” She shakily unfolded a single piece of paper. As the page opened, the blood in my veins turned to ice. Clara’s voice was thick with tears. “Jaxon… Phoebe left this… It’s a suicide note.” “It says it right here…” I stared at the familiar handwriting. Brother, I’m so sorry. Because of my carelessness, I can’t be with you anymore. I want to donate my heart to someone who needs it, so they can live on and stay by your side for me… Every word was a needle in my heart. It was Phoebe’s handwriting, down to the little hook she always put at the end of her sentences. For a single, terrifying moment, I faltered. My fingers trembled. Could I have been wrong all this time? But as my eyes scanned the page, I saw the last line. I hope you can forgive me, brother… I won’t be able to share a big seafood feast with you anymore. My pupils constricted. BANG! Another shot echoed through the hall. Celeste’s mother now had a bleeding hole in her other arm. My voice was like a shard of ice. “I don’t accept this note.” “You have two minutes left, Celeste.” The room exploded. Clara was frantic. “Jaxon! She really wrote this! Please, just turn yourself in! With your service record, they’ll go easy on you…” Celeste jumped in immediately. “Jaxon, if you let my mother go, I promise I won’t press charges. You can still be my husband…” The crowd’s curses rained down on me. “He’s still denying it, even with the proof right in his face!” “His sister got herself killed, and now he’s trying to extort them!” “Scum! Profiting off his own sister’s death!” Elias’s face was purple with rage. “Jaxon! We have a witness and a note! What more do you want?!” I ignored the noise, my eyes locked on Celeste. After a few moments, sweat began to bead on her forehead. Her lips trembled. I knew she was at her breaking point. Her mother’s life was in my hands. Just then, the sound of sirens grew louder, closer. The doors burst open again, and a SWAT team swarmed the ballroom, weapons raised. What broke my heart, what truly shattered it, was that Celeste didn’t hesitate for a single second. “Shoot him!” she screamed at the police. “Shoot him! I want him dead!” In that moment, it felt like my soul was being torn in two. For three years, I had pretended to love her, pretending to care. But routine becomes reality, and somewhere along the line, I had started to believe it myself. And she, without a second thought, had just ordered my execution. Outnumbered and outgunned, I was quickly subdued. Celeste instantly regained her composure, her voice dripping with aristocratic disdain. “It’s no use, Jaxon. Your sister died because she was careless. No amount of threats will change that.” I didn’t say anything. I just let out a short, sharp laugh. The room erupted in cheers. “Good! They got him!” “He got what he deserved!” “They should execute monsters like him!” The director, Celeste, and Elias all breathed a collective sigh of relief, waiting to see me break. But all they saw on my face was cold, burning hatred. Seeing that I was still defiant, Elias snarled, “You’re going to rot in prison for this!” “And my sister was supposed to just die for nothing?” I shot back, my voice raw. “She was so careful she read the ingredients on a bottle of cold medicine! How could she forget about an anesthesia allergy?” Died from hiding an allergy? It was a pathetic lie. These butchers weren’t going to get away with it. This was far from over. Just as they thought they had won, the SWAT team leader’s voice boomed through the hall. “It’s a fake! The hostage is a hyper-realistic doll!”

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“Stella, you’ll be sitting out the company retreat.” Mona’s voice drifted from the conference room, light and airy, as if she were commenting on the weather. I put down the file in my hand and turned my head. “Excuse me?” “The Maldives trip. Spots are limited, and someone has to stay behind to hold down the fort.” She offered a thin, plastic smile. “Besides, your husband’s the VP. You’re not really going to make a fuss about this, are you?” The twenty-odd people in the room fell silent. Every eye was on me. I just stared at her. Five years. For five years, my sales numbers had been number one, every single year. And for five years, my name had never appeared on any recognition list. I knew why. But I never said a word. “Fine,” I said, nodding slowly. “I’ll stay.” Mona blinked, clearly taken aback. She hadn’t expected me to agree so easily. I let a small, knowing smile touch my lips. “But are you sure about this, Mona?” 1 The conference room was dead silent for three long seconds. Mona’s smile faltered. “What’s that supposed to mean, Stella?” “Nothing at all,” I said, pushing my chair back and rising to my feet. “I’ll go cover the office.” I turned and walked out without a backward glance, the sound of hushed whispers following me down the hall. The elevator doors at the end of the corridor slid open, and I stepped inside. Just as they were closing, I caught a glimpse of Mona standing in the doorway of the conference room, her face a mask of thunder. I pressed the button for the ground floor. My phone vibrated. A text from Kevin. Honey, don’t be mad. Mona is just thinking about what’s best for the company. I stared at the words, my thumb hovering over the screen, but I didn’t reply. Another message popped up. I’ll make it up to you when we get back. How about a trip to Miami? Miami. They were all going to the Maldives, a five-thousand-dollar-a-head luxury trip. His way of making it up to me was Miami. I slipped the phone back into my pocket. The elevator doors opened, and I walked into the lobby. The young woman at the front desk looked at me, her expression hesitant. “Stella? Are you really not going?” “I’m not going.” “But…” she lowered her voice to a whisper, “you’re the only one from the whole company who’s staying behind.” I forced a smile. “Someone’s got to keep the lights on.” She looked like she wanted to say more, but she held her tongue. I knew what she was thinking. Out of thirty-two employees, twenty-eight were going to the Maldives. The only ones left behind were me and the three new interns. Three interns. I was in my fifth year with the company. A sales manager who brought in over four million dollars in annual sales. And I was staying behind with the interns. I went to the breakroom and poured myself a glass of water. My phone buzzed again. This time it was Linda. Are you an idiot, Stella? Your husband is the VP, why didn’t you just have him say something? I ignored it. A second text followed. Then again, what does it matter how good your sales are? Everyone knows you only got the job because your husband pulled strings for you. I stared at the screen for five seconds, the words burning into my eyes. Because of my husband. My four and a half million in sales were because of my husband? I set the phone down and picked up my water. Outside, the sky was a grim, overcast gray. At three o’clock, the official trip announcement went out in the company-wide group chat. “Hi team, a reminder that our Maldives retreat is from December 20th to the 26th. All flights (first-class) and accommodations (five-star resort) have been arranged by the company. Please be ready for an amazing seven days!” A flood of “Got it!” and “Can’t wait!” messages followed. I didn’t respond. Another message appeared. “Personnel staying behind for office coverage: Stella Ross, Mike (Intern), Wendy (Intern), Alex (Intern).” The chat went quiet for a moment. Then, a single laughing emoji popped up. I knew exactly who sent it. Linda. Mona’s little lapdog. I closed the app and opened my work files. The Apex Corporation contract was up for renewal next week. A 1.5-million-dollar deal. I had landed that client three years ago. Their CEO, Mr. Peterson, was a university alum. For three years, the renewal had been a seamless formality. Never a single issue. I glanced at the calendar. The renewal date fell squarely in the middle of the company retreat. A humorless smile touched my lips. Mona really knew how to pick her moments. At five-thirty, people started packing up and leaving, a current of excited energy filling the office. I remained at my desk. Kevin emerged from his office and walked over. “Hey, honey. Ready to head home?” I looked up at him. “You knew about the retreat.” It wasn’t a question. He hesitated for a second. “I did.” “And you didn’t say anything for me?” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Stella, Mona’s the Director of Sales. I might be the VP, but that department is her territory. It’s not my place to interfere.” I just looked at him. “For three years, I’ve been the top performer.” “I know that.” “Half of Mona’s reported sales come from my clients.” “I… I know.” “You know?” I stood up, my voice rising slightly. “You know she steals my credit, and you say nothing. You know she’s pushing me out, and you say nothing. Now she’s making me the sole employee left behind, and you still say nothing?” “Stella…” “I’m your wife, Kevin.” He opened his mouth, but no words came out. I grabbed my bag. “I’m going home by myself.” “Stella, wait!” I didn’t stop. Just as the elevator doors closed, I saw him standing there, his face a portrait of conflicted helplessness. Helpless. Right. I pressed the button for the parking garage. It was quiet, the air cool and still. I got into my car and started the engine. My phone lit up. Kevin. Honey, please don’t be angry. I’ll explain everything when I get home. I didn’t answer. The car emerged from the garage into a sea of red taillights. Rush hour traffic was at a standstill. A red light. I stared out the window. I’d been married to Kevin for three years. He was the VP; I was a junior manager. Everyone thought I’d married up. Including Mona. The first day she met me, she’d said, “Oh, so you’re the VP’s wife. Well, you better work hard for me. Don’t embarrass your husband.” Back then, I was a new hire with zero sales to my name. Now, I brought in over four million dollars a year, and she still looked at me with that same dismissive gaze. The light turned green. I pressed the accelerator. When I got home, Kevin wasn’t there yet. I changed my clothes and sat on the sofa, my mind a blank. The doorbell rang. I opened it. It was my mother-in-law. “Carol? What are you doing here?” She swept past me into the living room, wearing that familiar, condescending smile. “Kevin told me you were in a bit of a mood.” “I’m fine.” “What’s all this fuss about some company trip? You just do odd jobs at the office anyway, what difference does it make if you go or not?” I stared at her. “Carol, I’m a sales manager, I don’t do ‘odd jobs’.” “Manager, assistant, it’s all the same. You work for someone else,” she said with a wave of her hand. “You should stop worrying about these silly things and focus on what’s important. Taking care of Kevin, and giving me a grandchild.” I took a deep breath. “I’m going to start dinner.” “Yes, you do that.” I turned and walked into the kitchen. I opened the refrigerator. It was completely empty. I froze. It was full of groceries yesterday. “Carol, where did all the food go?” “Oh, I took it,” her voice called out from the living room. “Your sister-in-law is pregnant, you know. She needs the nutrition.” My hand tightened on the refrigerator door. Three years. For three years, she had never once looked at me as an equal. I was just the girl who got lucky, the one who wasn’t good enough for her perfect son. I closed the fridge. My phone rang. An unknown number. I answered. “Hello?” “May I speak with Stella Ross?” “This is she.” “Hello, my name is Laura, I’m a recruiter with Edge Talent. I have a Sales Director position I’d like to discuss with you. The base salary is one hundred and fifty thousand. Would you be interested in hearing more?” I was stunned into silence for a moment. “Would it be alright if I sent you the details?” “…Yes,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “That would be fine.” I saved her number. After hanging up, I stared out the window into the darkening sky. And I made a decision. 2 The next day, I went to work as usual. The atmosphere in the office was thick with unspoken tension. As I passed the breakroom, I heard voices. “Did you hear? Stella isn’t going on the retreat.” “It’s not that she isn’t going. Mona isn’t letting her go.” “Why?” “What do you think? Her husband’s the VP. Mona’s probably worried she’ll steal the spotlight.” “Please. With her numbers? What spotlight is there to steal?” “You don’t know? Her numbers are actually…” The voices cut off abruptly. I pushed the door open and walked in. The two women exchanged a panicked look, grabbed their mugs, and scurried out. I poured myself a coffee. My phone buzzed. A text from Mona. Stella, my office. Now. I set my mug down and walked over. Mona was sitting behind her large desk, a triumphant smile playing on her lips. “Sit.” I sat. “About the retreat. No hard feelings, I hope?” “None at all.” She nodded, satisfied. “Good. Now, about the Apex Corporation contract. It’s up for renewal next week. Get all the materials ready for me. I’ll be handling the negotiation personally.” I looked at her, my expression unreadable. “Apex is my client.” “They’re the company’s client,” she corrected me smoothly. “You’re just the point of contact.” “Mr. Peterson only deals with me.” “Mr. Peterson deals with whoever brings him the best deal,” she countered with a dismissive laugh. “Stella, you’ve been here for five years. You should understand by now: the clients belong to the company, not to you.” I said nothing. “You just focus on holding down the fort,” she continued. “I’ll take care of Apex.” I stood up. “Are you sure, Mona?” She raised an eyebrow. “Is there a problem?” “Not at all.” I turned to leave, pausing at the door. “You know, Mona, the Apex account is worth one and a half million dollars annually. That’s thirty-five percent of this company’s total revenue.” “I’m aware.” “Just making sure.” I opened the door and walked out. Behind me, I heard her call out, “Don’t you dare try to pull anything, Stella.” I didn’t look back. Back at my desk, I opened my laptop. I had already backed up every file related to Apex Corporation. Three years of email correspondence, order histories, and negotiation notes. All of it was sitting safely in my personal cloud drive. I checked the time. The retreat started in five days. I picked up my phone and sent a quick text to Mr. Peterson. Mr. Peterson, regarding the renewal next week, there’s a possibility the company may assign a new representative to your account. A few minutes later, he replied. A new rep? Who? Our Director of Sales, Mona Vance. Never heard of her. A small smile played on my lips. Mr. Peterson, would you have time for a quick call about the contract? Sure. I’ll call you tonight at seven. I put my phone down. From the next desk over, Linda leaned in. “Stella, you were just in Mona’s office?” “I was.” “What did she want?” “Nothing important.” She scoffed. “Don’t be ungrateful. Mona’s giving you a big responsibility by letting you watch the office.” I turned to face her. “Linda, what were your sales numbers last year?” She froze. “What’s it to you?” “If I recall, it was around three hundred and eighty thousand, right?” Her face flushed. “My sales were four and a half million,” I said, turning back to my computer. “That’s nearly twelve times yours.” Her face turned beet red. “You… You think you’re so great! You only have those numbers because of your husband!” I ignored her. She huffed and spun back around in her chair. At lunchtime, Kevin appeared at my desk. “Honey, want to grab a bite?” “Can’t. I’m busy.” “With what?” “Work,” I said, grabbing my purse. “You go ahead.” “Stella…” I didn’t stop, stepping straight into the elevator. Downstairs, I found a quiet café and sat down. I opened my phone and pulled up the recruiter’s information. Her name was Laura, and the job description she’d sent was detailed: Company: Sterling Enterprises Position: Regional Sales Director, East Coast Compensation: $150,000 base + commission Benefits: Full medical, dental, vision, 401k match, annual company trip. Sterling Enterprises. I knew the name. They were Apex Corporation’s biggest competitor. I thought for a moment, then typed out a reply. Laura, I’d be interested in learning more. Are you available to chat? Of course. When works for you? How about tomorrow evening? Perfect. I’ll send you the address. I put down my phone and took a sip of my latte. Outside the window, the city bustled with life. Five years. I’d given five years to this company. I’d climbed from an associate to a manager, my sales growing from zero to over four million dollars. But in Mona’s eyes, I would always be “Kevin’s wife.” In my mother-in-law’s eyes, I was “that girl who married up.” And in my colleagues’ eyes, I was “the one who got her job through connections.” I let out a soft, humorless laugh. Maybe it was time to show them who I really was. When I got back to the office, Mona summoned me to a meeting room. “All of the Apex files. I want them transferred to me.” I just looked at her. “By the end of the day,” she added. “Mona, the contract isn’t up for renewal until next week.” “I need to prepare.” “Prepare what, exactly?” Her expression hardened. “Stella, I am your superior. When I tell you to do something, you do it.” I nodded slowly. “Alright.” I walked out and went back to my desk. Linda shot me a look dripping with schadenfreude. “What’s wrong? Did you get chewed out?” I ignored her. I opened my computer, compiled all of Apex Corporation’s publicly available information into a single document, and emailed it to Mona. Then, I opened another folder. The one with three years of critical intelligence. Client preferences, decision-making hierarchies, key contacts, detailed notes from every negotiation we’d ever had. I didn’t send her a single word of it. My phone vibrated. It was Mr. Peterson. Stella, don’t forget. Seven o’clock tonight. I’ll be ready, sir. I checked the time. Four o’clock. Three more hours. At five-thirty, I packed up and left on the dot. Kevin was still in his office. I didn’t bother stopping by. When I got home, I changed and started cooking. At precisely seven o’clock, my phone rang. “Stella,” Mr. Peterson’s voice was calm and measured. “I’ve been thinking about what you said, about your company switching my point of contact.” “Yes, sir?” “You and I have worked together for three years, and it’s always been a smooth process. A new person…” he paused. “I’m not comfortable with that.” “What are you suggesting, sir?” “If you were to leave your current company, then we can talk about renewing the contract.” I gripped the phone, my heart pounding in my chest. I was silent for a few seconds. “I understand, Mr. Peterson.” “You’re a talented woman, Stella. Don’t let them undervalue you.” “Thank you, sir.” I hung up and stood by the window, the city lights blurring before my eyes. A one-and-a-half-million-dollar account. And it was mine. Not because I was “Kevin’s wife.” But because I was Stella Ross. The doorbell rang. I opened it. It was Kevin. “Why didn’t you wait for me?” “I had things to do.” He walked in, and the tension seemed to leave his shoulders when he saw the food on the table. “Good, you cooked. I’m starving.” He sat down and started eating. I sat across from him, watching him. “Kevin.” “Hmm?” “If I left the company, would you support me?” His chopsticks froze mid-air. “What do you mean, leave the company?” “Find a new job.” He put his chopsticks down. “Stella, what are you talking about? Why would you do that?” “I have another offer. A hundred and fifty thousand a year.” He stared at me, stunned. “$150,000?” “Yes.” “With who?” “Sterling Enterprises.” The color drained from his face. “Sterling? They’re Apex’s biggest rival! If you go there, what happens to the Apex contract?” I met his gaze. “Kevin, this is my career.” “This is the company’s biggest account!” he shot back, standing up. “Stella, do you have any idea how important that deal is?” “I do.” “And you’d still leave?” “Yes.” He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. “Can you please not be so impulsive? I’ll talk to Mona for you, I’ll sort out this whole retreat thing…” “Don’t bother,” I cut him off. “I’ve already made my decision.” “Stella!” I stood up and walked into the bedroom. Just as the door clicked shut, I heard the clatter of chopsticks hitting the floor in the living room. I didn’t care anymore. 3 The third day, I arrived at the office right on time. As soon as I sat down, Mona called me into her office. “Stella, I just got off the phone with Mr. Peterson from Apex.” “Oh?” “He said he’ll only discuss the contract with you. Not with me.” Her face was a storm cloud. “What did you say to him?” “I didn’t say anything.” “You better not have.” She glared at me. “Stella, I’m telling you for the last time. The clients belong to the company, not to you.” “I know.” “Good.” She waved a dismissive hand. “Get out.” I turned and walked out. Back at my desk, Linda sidled over. “Did you piss Mona off? She looks like she’s about to kill someone.” “Nope.” “You better watch your back,” she whispered conspiratorially. “She’s not someone you want to cross.” I ignored her and got back to work. At noon, I skipped the cafeteria and went out for lunch by myself. As I was walking out of the building, my phone rang. It was my mother-in-law. “Hello?” “Stella, come to the house for dinner tonight. Your father-in-law wants to talk to you.” “About what?” “You’ll find out when you get here.” She hung up. I stared at my phone and sighed. At six o’clock, I arrived at my in-laws’ house. Kevin was already there. “You’re here. Have a seat,” my father-in-law said, his tone polite but firm. I sat. My mother-in-law, Carol, brought a dish out from the kitchen, shooting me a cold look as she passed. “Stella, I hear you’re thinking of leaving your job,” my father-in-law began. I glanced at Kevin. He avoided my eyes. “I’ve been considering it,” I said. “Why?” “A better opportunity came up.” “What opportunity could possibly be better than staying where you are?” Carol interjected. “Your husband is the VP. It’s not like you have it hard there.” I looked directly at her. “My career has nothing to do with my husband.” “What career?” she sneered. “If it wasn’t for Kevin, you never would have gotten your foot in the door at that company.” I didn’t say a word. The truth was, I was hired two years before I even met Kevin. But I was done explaining myself. “Stella, let me be frank,” my father-in-law said, his voice taking on a serious tone. “This idea of you leaving… can you put it on hold?” “Why?” “The Apex Corporation contract is critical. If you leave now, it could put the whole deal in jeopardy. It would be a huge blow to the company.” I looked from him to Kevin, then back again. “Dad, I’m the one who brought Apex in as a client.” “They are the company’s client,” he corrected me, echoing Mona’s words. I couldn’t help but laugh. A short, bitter sound. “Is that so?” “Stella!” Carol slammed her hand on the table. “What kind of attitude is that?” “I’m just stating a fact.” “You—” “Alright, that’s enough,” my father-in-law cut in. “Stella, I need to talk to you about something else.” “Go ahead.” “This company retreat. You’ll stay home. Just let it go.” I blinked. “Dad, it was Mona who told me I couldn’t go.” “I know,” he nodded. “And she was right to do so.” I stared at him, speechless. “Think about it,” he continued, his voice calm and patronizing. “Twenty-eight people go on a trip, and you’re the only one left behind. It looks bad. It’s much better for everyone if you just pretend you chose not to go. It saves face.” Saves face. Whose face? “I understand,” I said, standing up. “I should get going.” “You haven’t even eaten!” Carol called after me. “I’m not hungry.” I grabbed my bag and walked out the door. Kevin ran out after me. “Stella!” I kept walking. “Stella! Can you stop being so difficult? My parents are just trying to help you!” I spun around to face him. “Help me? When have they ever tried to help me, Kevin?” He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. “Your mother says my job is worthless, and your father says being publicly humiliated is for my own good.” I stared at him, my voice dangerously calm. “Is that what you call helping?” “They… that’s just how they talk. You can’t take it personally.” “Not take it personally?” I laughed again, but there was no humor in it. “Kevin, I have been a part of your family for three years. In all that time, when have you ever, not once, stood up for me?” He fell silent. “Forget it,” I said, turning to leave again. “Stella! What do you want from me?” he yelled, his voice cracking with frustration. I stopped and looked back at him over my shoulder. “What do I want?” “I want to be treated fairly.” “I want to be respected.” “And I want every single one of you to understand that I am Stella Ross. Not just someone’s wife, not just someone’s daughter-in-law, and certainly not just someone’s subordinate.” He stared at me, completely stunned. “You can’t give me that, Kevin. So I’m going to get it for myself.” I walked away. This time, he didn’t follow. Back home, I opened my laptop. The recruiter, Laura, had sent me a message. Stella, just confirming our meeting for tomorrow evening? I stared at it for a long moment, then typed my reply. Yes. I’ll be there. Great. I’ve sent you the address. I closed the laptop and looked out the window. The night was dark and deep. I had made my decision. No matter what, I was leaving.

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On a live variety show, I was forced to call my ex-boyfriend. “Can I borrow five hundred bucks?” He scoffed. “You’ve got some nerve asking.” A second later, a notification popped up on the big screen. [Your account has received $50,000,000.00 from account ending in 2222…] 1 It was a live broadcast. The challenge: call the person pinned at the top of your contacts and ask to borrow money for the day’s activity fund. I unlocked my phone and stared at the pinned contact. My soul left my body. Damn. It was my ex. The one I dumped. The one I swore I’d never see again in this lifetime. My phone screen was mirrored on the giant studio monitor. The contact name was crystal clear: AAA Adrian Sterling. The other guests froze. The live comments exploded. [Wait… is that THE Adrian Sterling? The Sterling heir?] [Who? Is he famous?] [Famous? He’s old money royalty! His family owns half the city.] [He showed his face once at a tech summit and broke the internet. He’s been topping the ‘Most Eligible Bachelor’ list ever since.] [Wait, isn’t he way out of Chloe’s league? She’s just a B-list actress.] [Exactly. Look at her face. She’s embarrassed because she probably tried to climb the social ladder and fell off. She’s scared he won’t even pick up.] The host, sensing drama, leaned in. “The audience is dying to know, Chloe. Is this the Mr. Sterling?” I was about to deny it when Bella, the show’s resident “it girl,” bounced over. “The profile picture looks like him, but who knows?” she said, covering her mouth in mock surprise. “Oops, I shouldn’t have said that. I’m actually calling him too! Chloe, you go first.” She flashed her phone screen to the camera with a sugary smile. Her pinned contact: AAA Adrian <3. The host gasped. "That nickname..." Bella acted like she'd just realized her mistake, covering her phone and blushing. "Oh, stop! It's just a silly name. I shouldn't have shown everyone!" I rolled my eyes so hard it hurt. Wow. Could you be any more obvious? Just call him already and spare me the theatrics. 2 I didn't have the energy to deal with her. I forced a smile. Then, under the gaze of millions of viewers online and offline, I dialed the number. Beep... Beep... The ringing echoed through the silent studio. It felt like an eternity. Finally, the call connected. Silence on the other end. As the audio amplified, I could hear steady breathing and faint background chatter. My throat went dry. I tried to sound casual. "Are you in a meeting?" Adrian: "Mm." The man was a vault. No emotion. No words. "Is it a bad time?" Adrian: "Mm." Excuse me? We broke up years ago, and now you've devolved into a grunt-machine? The other guests looked at me with pity. Bella blinked her big innocent eyes, feigning sympathy. Just kill me now. "So, um, I wanted to borrow five hundred dollars." "If you don't want to, that's fine." Even without seeing him, I knew he paused. Then, a low, husky laugh escaped his lips. "You've got some nerve asking." His voice dropped at the end. Like a cold stream in early spring—chilling, yet mesmerizing. Then... Click. The line went dead. Are you serious, bro? You own half the skyscrapers in downtown. And you won't lend your ex-girlfriend five hundred bucks? Stingy jerk! I let out an awkward laugh. "Sorry guys, we're really not that close." Bella patted my shoulder, oozing fake kindness. "Adrian is usually super busy at this hour. He probably doesn't have time for small things. Don't worry, I'll try. As long as we get the money for the team, right?" 3 You really deserve an Oscar for "Best Villain disguised as a Saint." My request is a "small thing," but yours is important? If I didn't want to keep my history with Adrian a secret, you wouldn't be standing here acting so smug. I shrugged. "Go ahead." [What is wrong with Chloe? She got rejected by the big shot and now she's taking it out on Bella?] [Bella is just trying to help!] [Am I the only one who thinks Bella is being passive-aggressive?] [Yeah, Chloe held back. I would have snapped.] [You guys are reading too much into it. Bella is known for being sweet but blunt.] [Chloe is just jealous. The man she couldn't land is wrapped around Bella's finger.] [Get ready for the slap in the face, Jealous Chloe.] I ignored the comments and watched Bella perform. Her call was answered in seconds. A stark contrast to mine. Ahhh! That dead man! He's humiliating me! "What is it?" Adrian's voice was even flatter than before. "Adrian, I'm out having high tea," Bella cooed, dragging out the vowels. "But my card got frozen for some reason. Can you transfer me some cash for an emergency?" Adrian paused. "Got it." What?! You have a new girl already? Fine. Good. Great!!! I clenched my jaw to keep a neutral face. The producers, hungry for drama, kept my phone screen up next to Bella's. Everyone held their breath, waiting for the transfer notification. Ding! [You have received $10,000.00 from account ending in 7144.] The sound came from Bella's phone. She turned around, beaming. "Chloe! We have money!" Before she could finish, another notification chime rang out. Loud and clear. On the big screen, a message popped up on my phone. [You have received $50,000,000.00 from account ending in 2222.] WHAT?! 4 Account ending in 2222?! That was Adrian's personal black card! My brain short-circuited. I tapped the message open. Everyone saw it. The guests and the host gasped in unison. They stared at the string of zeros, unable to look away. Five... fifty... five hundred... five million... Fifty million?! Adrian, are you insane? You hung up on me, then sent me fifty million dollars? I've only seen this kind of money on a Monopoly board! Are you trying to send me to an early grave via heart attack? If the internet sleuths dig this up, they're definitely going to think we're running an illegal laundering scheme or having a sordid affair! [LMAO. The slap in the face came, but not for Chloe.] [Bella asked, and he sent 10k like a chore. Chloe asked for 500, and he dropped 50 mill.] [This CEO x Actress trope is spicy!] [Wait, who sent the money to Chloe? Was it Adrian too?] [Look at the account numbers! They're different!] [Maybe Chloe has a sugar daddy.] [Yeah, she's probably two-timing. Trying to climb Adrian while milking her sugar daddy for 50 mill.] [Adrian would never look at her.] [Are these comments bots? Why so much hate?] [Not everyone is a gold digger, okay?] [Those are definitely Bella's fans.] Before I could drown in the spit of internet trolls, my survival instincts kicked in. "Oh! I forgot. Today is settlement day for my studio. Sorry for the confusion, everyone." Bella looked at me suspiciously. I gave her a cold stare back. Believe it or not, sister. Go ask Adrian if you have a problem!

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1 My girlfriend built an empire from scratch, becoming a top-tier tycoon. But she was ruthlessly impartial, refusing to hire me even though I’d poured my own blood, sweat, and tears into building the company with her. When my mom got sick and we were desperate for money, Ava wouldn’t budge. “A job, a handout… Have you considered my position, Ethan? How would I maintain respect?” So I stopped begging. I sold everything I had—the small condo, the car—to scrape together enough for my mother’s surgery. But when I arrived to pay, the nurse stopped me at the door. “I’m sorry, the donor kidney has already been purchased. You’ll have to wait for the next one.” The words hit me like a lightning strike. A second later, I saw Ava escorting her young protégé, Leo, into the operating room. The kidney I had been desperately waiting for, the one that was supposed to save my mother, had been casually bought by Ava and given to him. I tried to force my way in, desperate, but she just called the police. The twenty-four hours in a holding cell meant I missed my mother’s last moments. After the surgery, Ava lit up the entire city with fireworks to celebrate Leo’s recovery. I sat in the sterile silence of the morgue, crying until my tears ran dry. Her so-called impartiality wasn’t set in stone. It just never applied to me. … I moved through the motions of arranging my mother’s funeral, a hollowed-out shell. Outside, the sky continued to explode in a kaleidoscope of color. Just two days ago, she wouldn’t even lend me a thousand dollars. She had even berated me in front of the entire company. “Can you stop being so selfish? This is a massive corporation. Why should I bend the rules for you?” I had fled the office, burning with shame, tears streaming down my face. And just one day later, she pulled strings and threw money around to save her precious protégé. A million-dollar firework display just to celebrate his new lease on life. My whole body trembled. Every breath was a shard of glass in my lungs. My phone buzzed relentlessly, call after call, but I ignored them all. A moment later, I heard hurried footsteps behind me. Ava grabbed my arm. “Ethan, why aren’t you answering your phone? Do you have any idea how worried I—” Her words died in her throat when she saw my swollen, red-rimmed eyes. She froze, a flicker of guilt crossing her face. She couldn’t even meet my gaze. “I… I didn’t know your mother was that sick.” She was lying. After I was released, I had gone looking for her, fueled by a desperate need for answers. I found her outside Leo’s hospital room and heard their conversation through the door. “Ava,” Leo’s voice was soft, “Ethan’s mom passed away. You gave me the kidney… you think he’ll hate you for it?” There was a long silence before Ava’s voice, raspy with emotion, finally answered. “His mother was too far gone. Even with a new kidney, she wouldn’t have lasted long. Besides, he still has me. I’ll love him enough for the both of us.” But I didn’t want it. Her love felt like poison. My fingernails dug into my palms. “Stop lying,” I said, each word precise and cold. “We’re done.” Ava’s face went rigid. Her voice was laced with disbelief. “What are you talking about? We’re engaged. The venue is already booked.” “Then cancel it.” The words left my lips without a hint of hesitation. How could she possibly think I would still marry her? Even the wedding venue wasn’t my choice. Leo had picked out every last detail. I had had enough. “Ethan!” A weak, tearful voice shattered the tense air. Leo, clutching the area over his new kidney, slowly sank to his knees before me. “It’s all my fault. I was the one who begged Ava for the kidney. Don’t blame her. Blame me.” Ava’s heart went out to him instantly. She rushed to his side. “Get up, Leo.” “No, I won’t. I caused all this trouble. I’ll take the blame.” They went back and forth, a picture of selfless devotion, their eyes filled with a deep, protective affection for each other. It was as if I was the villain in their tragic love story. Just like that, Ava’s fleeting guilt vanished. She helped Leo to his feet, turning her back on me without a second glance. As she led him away, Leo wrapped his arm around her neck. Hidden from her view, he looked back at me and arched an eyebrow. He mouthed two words silently: Get lost. 2 I tore my eyes away, not even bothering to give him a reaction. For six days, I handled my mother’s funeral arrangements alone. Ava tried to contact me several times, but I just blocked her number. On the seventh day, the day of the service, she showed up with Leo. “Ethan, I’m so sorry for your loss.” Leo bowed his head, his face a mask of sorrow. Then, he made to kneel before my mother’s memorial table. I moved instantly to block him. “Don’t,” I said, my voice ice. His hypocrisy was nauseating. If it weren’t for him, my mother would still be alive. What’s more, when she was sick, Leo had gone out of his way to torment her, calling Ava away in the middle of our family dinners, interrupting us when we were trying to take one last family portrait. His petty games had worsened her condition. Letting him kneel here now would be a final, grotesque insult to her memory. The room was filled with friends, relatives, and some of my old colleagues from the company. Their whispers filled the air as Leo stood there, looking utterly humiliated. Tears welled in his eyes, and he put on a pitiful display of grief. Ava grabbed my wrist, her grip tightening. “That’s enough,” she hissed, her voice low and menacing. “How much more do you want to humiliate him? The office is already buzzing with rumors that he’s a manipulative monster. Are you trying to drive him to suicide?” A knife twisted in my gut. He sheds a few crocodile tears and she’s ready to defend him to the death. But my mother was gone, and to her, it was as if nothing had happened. Looking back, her favoritism had always been there, right under my nose. I remembered a time in college when the three of us went out for barbecue. Leo’s ex-girlfriend showed up and started a scene. Out of nowhere, Ava exploded. She grabbed a chair and just started swinging. She was like a feral animal. I was terrified she would kill someone, so I jumped in to stop her and got knocked to the ground for my trouble. But then Leo yelled, “That’s enough!” and Ava immediately stopped. In the end, they were both perfectly fine. I was the one who ended up with seven stitches in my forehead, looking like a clown. My heart felt like it was being churned by a slow, blunt blade. My eyes burned, but no more tears would come. Leo was still playing the victim. “Ethan,” he whimpered, “Ava is like a sister to me. It’s only right that I pay my respects to… her future mother-in-law. Please, don’t overthink this.” Ignoring me, he tried to kneel again. I couldn’t stand the thought of him tainting this space. I lunged forward and shoved him back. “Get out! Both of you, get out!” I hadn’t used much force, but he let out a theatrical scream. “Agh!” A roaring filled Ava’s ears. Her hand flew out, and my world tilted as her palm connected with my cheek. I stumbled backward, crashing into the memorial table. Plates of offerings shattered on the floor, the sound echoing the breaking of my own heart. My vision swam with red. A mournful cry echoed in my mind. It was all ruined. Everything was ruined. My mother had suffered so much in life, and now she couldn’t even rest in peace. Leo was still sobbing in Ava’s arms. Something inside me snapped. I grabbed a ceremonial knife from the table and lunged at them. “Die, you two! Just die!” Ava’s face paled, her eyes wide with disbelief. Before she could speak, Leo, genuinely terrified, dragged her out the door. My relatives swarmed me, holding me back, afraid I would actually commit murder. I didn’t sleep that night. The tears finally came again, an endless, silent stream. Ava sent a novel-length text message, a stream of apologies, but I couldn’t bring myself to read a single word. The next day, a video of me trying to attack them with the knife somehow made its way to Ava’s mother. She kicked my door open first thing in the morning. “Ethan, are you insane? Attacking people with a knife is a crime!” she shrieked. “Thank God Leo told me what happened. I will never let a psycho like you marry into my family!” Behind her, Leo chimed in, his brow furrowed with fake concern. “Ethan, please don’t be mad at me. I see Ava as family. I couldn’t just stand by and watch her walk into a fire.” I laughed, a cold, bitter sound. He didn’t see her as family. He saw her as his ticket. I remembered when we all went on a trip together. Ava and I had our own room, but Leo kept waking us up all night, complaining of chest pains or stomach cramps. He spent the entire trip glaring at me like I had murdered his father. When I pointed it out, Ava just laughed it off. “He’s just a kid, Ethan. Don’t be silly.” 3 The joke was, Ava was the only one who couldn’t see it. Her mother knew exactly what was going on and used Leo as a weapon against me all the time. “If you don’t behave, there are plenty of other young men who would love to be with our Ava.” “Ava doesn’t need you. A husband can be replaced. A mother can’t.” I had heard it all until I was sick of it. Now, it was finally time for it to end. “You don’t have to worry,” I said, my voice flat. “Ava and I already broke up.” Her mother blinked. “Impossible! Ava was just talking about wedding plans yesterday. You’re lying!” A wave of nausea washed over me. I was so utterly tired of this family. I opened the door wider. “Get out,” I said, my voice cold. “You’re not welcome here.” Her face turned a mottled shade of red and purple. She couldn’t believe that I, the always-placid Ethan, would dare speak to her like that. Leo, on the other hand, looked smugly satisfied. His mission to completely destroy my relationship with Ava’s family was a success. Just then, a car screeched to a halt outside. Ava jumped out. “Mom, what are you doing here?” Her mother’s eyes instantly filled with tears. “Look at the wonderful man you picked! He threw me out of his house! You need to break up with him right now!” Leo added his own dramatic flair. “She was being perfectly reasonable, but Ethan just started screaming at her.” They painted their own version of reality, a perfect duet of lies. I braced myself for Ava’s anger, but instead, she turned on them. “Didn’t I tell you I would handle my own affairs? What are you doing here?” Ignoring their stunned expressions, she grabbed my arm and pulled me toward her car. “Where are you taking me? Let me go!” Ava just slammed her foot on the gas. “I’m taking you to the office. Today, you start. From now on, you own half the company.” My mind went blank. I felt nothing. What was this? A slap in the face followed by a piece of candy? “I’m not your dog, Ava.” Her own temper flared. “I’m just trying to make it up to you! Ethan, don’t be so stubborn.” Stubborn? My mother’s death was just me being stubborn? My throat tightened, as if a hand were squeezing it shut. My chest felt like it was about to explode. 4 Ava tried to say something else, but I snapped. I lunged across the console, my hand striking her face again and again. The sound of the slaps was sharp and clear in the confined space of the car. She didn’t even try to stop me, just held the wheel, her jaw tight, refusing to let me go. When we got to the office, she disappeared into the restroom to deal with the red marks on her face. Everyone stared and whispered as I walked by. “What’s he doing here? I thought Leo replaced him for good.” “Probably here to beg. He knows he’s about to get dumped.” I couldn’t stand it. I walked straight to Ava’s office. Her laptop was open on the desk. I was going to look up some company files, but my hand brushed the trackpad. A video file popped open and started to play. There, on this very desk, were Ava and Leo. Tangled together, naked and writhing. Our framed photo was crushed beneath them. “Ava, I love you so much, Ava—” Bang. The door flew open. Ava stood there, her face a mask of panic. When she saw the calm expression on my face, the color drained from hers. She lunged forward and slammed the laptop shut. “Ethan, that night… I was drunk after a client meeting. I thought he was you—” “No need to explain.” My voice was eerily steady. “Just liquidate my share of the company stock. Then we’re even.” The last bit of color fled her face. For the first time in our entire relationship, she lowered her head to me. “It was one time, Ethan. Can’t you just forgive me this once?” Once a cheater, always a cheater. I turned and walked out. She scrambled after me, her voice desperate. Suddenly, her phone rang. She answered it impatiently, but as she listened, her expression transformed. Her eyes, when they met mine again, were like poisoned daggers. I instinctively took a step back. Before I could speak, her hand shot out and clamped around my neck. She screamed for security, and two guards grabbed my arms, pinning me. Her eyes were bloodshot. “Why would you do this?” she roared, her voice raw with fury. “I would have given you any compensation you wanted! Why would you do this?” I couldn’t breathe. My face was turning purple. “What… are you… talking about?” I choked out. She shoved her phone in my face. “See for yourself!” The video, the one I had just seen, was plastered all over the internet. The headlines screamed. Leo was having a complete mental breakdown, holding a knife to his own wrist. “Just let me die!” he was screaming in the accompanying news clip. “How can I face anyone now? The whole world knows I’m a homewrecker!” A few of Leo’s buddies from the office came running out. Without a word, one of them swung, his fist connecting hard with my jaw. “You bastard! You’ll rot in hell for this!” I tried to fight back, but it was three against one. They wrestled me to the ground. They exchanged glances, a mix of contempt and cruel excitement in their eyes. Then they started dragging me toward a dark corner of the parking garage like I was a stray dog. With my last ounce of strength, I reached out and grabbed Ava’s leg. “It wasn’t me!” I screamed, my voice cracking. “Help me!” She looked down at me, her face a mask of profound disappointment. “You’re still lying. Even now. Why, Ethan? I wronged you, yes, but Leo is still just a student. You’ve ruined his life!” She coldly pried my fingers from her ankle and walked to her car. “I have to go to Leo. You made this mess. You can deal with the consequences.” With that, she got in her car and sped away. I curled into a ball on the cold concrete, my heart shattering into a million pieces. I fumbled for my phone to call the police, but the guy with the crew cut slapped it out of my hand. Another one of them spoke nervously. “Hey, let’s not go too far.” “Don’t worry about it!” the first one snapped. “Remember what Leo told us? We rough this guy up, make sure he’s too broken to ever bother Ava again.” That was all the encouragement they needed. They descended on me like a pack of wolves. Punches and kicks rained down on my body. I curled up tighter, screaming, but no one came to help. They just grew more frenzied, more excited by my pain. As consciousness began to slip away, I lunged forward and bit down hard on the crew-cut guy’s hand. I clamped my jaw shut, tasting blood, and tore away a piece of flesh. “Aaargh!” he howled, clutching his bleeding hand. “Kill him, Rick! Kill the son of a bitch!” The other two hesitated, a flicker of fear in their eyes. “What are you waiting for?” he screamed. “Leo’s going to be the new boss! You’ve got nothing to be afraid of!” That seemed to settle it. They closed in again, their heavy work boots slamming into my chest, my legs, my stomach. A final, blinding pain, and then my vision tunneled and went black. I heard their panicked voices from a great distance. “Is he… moving?” “This wasn’t us… we didn’t do this…” They scrambled away, their footsteps echoing in the empty garage, each one blaming the other. A few moments later, a passerby found me and called an ambulance. Ava was at the hospital, watching over a hysterical Leo. Her mother had finally managed to calm him down; his self-inflicted wounds were nothing more than superficial scratches. “Don’t you worry, Leo,” Ava’s mother cooed, stroking his hair. “After all this, I’ll make sure Ava marries you.” She was so engrossed in her promise that she didn’t notice the storm brewing on her daughter’s face. Ava, feeling suffocated, stepped out into the hallway for some air. The moment she pushed the door open, she saw me, my face as white as a sheet, being rushed on a gurney toward the emergency room.

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