Category: English

My boyfriend, who had always hated cats, brought one home. I thought he did it to make me happy and was touched for a long time. Until six months later. Julian’s college upperclassman returned from abroad. The first thing she did was open her arms to Julian. “Julian, I’m back.” The second thing she did was call out to the cat in my arms: “Sweetie, come here, Mommy’s back…” 1 Upon hearing her voice, Sweetie immediately jumped out of my arms. And in the blink of an eye, she was in Mia’s embrace. I stood there, stunned. Watching as the cat, who usually wouldn’t even let me touch her, gently licked Mia’s hand. Julian stood beside her, suppressing a smile. Mia stroked Sweetie’s head, her eyes full of adoration, “My sweet little thing~ Mommy missed you so much. Tell Mommy, did ‘Daddy’ treat you well these past six months?” Hearing the word “Daddy,” Julian didn’t react. He just said casually, “You’re wronging me, Mia. I treat Sweetie better than I would my own son.” Mia held the cat up to his face, blinking, “You’re not lying? Haven’t you always hated cats? I was so worried you’d be annoyed.” Julian subconsciously stepped back, “Well, that depends on whose cat it is, doesn’t it?” Confirmed that he wasn’t lying, Mia smiled in satisfaction. Listening to their conversation, my heart sank violently. Julian was famously a cat hater. I knew this very early on. So, I forcefully swallowed my dream of a life with two people and a cat. Until six months ago. He proactively brought home a dirty little cat. I was surprised and a little delighted. “Julian, don’t you hate cats? Why did you suddenly bring one home?” I asked very carefully, afraid he’d get annoyed and throw the hard-won cat out. Unexpectedly, Julian wasn’t annoyed at all. He even surprisingly prepared cat food and toys for the little thing. “Because you like them,” he said, sounding very impatient. I thought his impatience was just his natural reaction to seeing the cat. I didn’t care why he was acting that way. Thinking back on it now, that day was probably the day Mia went abroad. … Actually, Sweetie was not an easy cat to take care of. She was delicate and had a bad temper. Every time I tried to hold her, she would irritably swat me away with her tail or scratch my arm. Whenever that happened, Julian would mock me: “Chloe, you really have terrible luck with cats…” “If it really doesn’t work out, I’ll just leave her at a pet shop.” I panicked, afraid Sweetie would be sent away. I often whined and promised that I would raise Sweetie to be plump and healthy. Only then would he generously say: “Fine… since you’re begging me so much, I’ll reluctantly let you keep her for a few days.” I happily jumped on Julian and kissed his face: “You’re the best, honey.” In my heart, I was determined to make Sweetie completely dependent on me. To make Julian look at me with new respect. It wasn’t until today that I realized how stupid I was. It turned out that Sweetie was a cat who always had only one owner. 2 But I couldn’t figure it out. Why didn’t Julian just tell me clearly? Why did he lie to me? I stepped forward and grabbed his cuff: “Julian, didn’t you say Sweetie was a gift for me?” Both of them were startled by my sudden action. Julian reacted, frowning: “Chloe, let go first.” I shook my head. Was it really just because I liked cats? And Sweetie just happened to need someone to take care of her? Just as Julian was about to speak… Mia interrupted him, pointing at me and asking: “Julian, is she the person you hired to take care of Sweetie?” I froze. I looked at Julian in disbelief. “What is she talking about?” Julian put his arm around my shoulder, completely ignoring my shock. “Chloe, you were basically the one I asked to take care of Sweetie.” I broke free from his grasp: “But didn’t you say you brought Sweetie back because I liked her?” Julian nodded: “Yes, if it weren’t for you liking her, I would have left her at the pet shop.” “But I don’t recall saying I was giving you the cat…” “Baby, taking care of a cat is one thing, but we can’t just steal someone else’s pet…” My heart felt like it was pierced by a sharp sword. I stood there pale and rigid. My hands clenched involuntarily at my sides. Julian didn’t notice anything wrong with me. He pulled me forward and introduced me, “Mia, you actually believed I was joking? This is my girlfriend, Chloe.” “Thanks to her, Sweetie was well taken care of these past six months.” Mia was stunned for a moment. Then she smiled, “Julian, you hid her well. Your girlfriend is so pretty.” “Thank you, Chloe, for taking such good care of Sweetie for me.” After saying that, she nudged Julian’s arm, “Since your girlfriend is so accommodating, want to go to the party Mark is throwing later?” Julian readily agreed: “Sure, we definitely have to celebrate you coming back to the country.” Mia looked delighted and linked her arm through his, “Then I’m afraid I’ll have to ask your girlfriend to take care of my cat a little longer.” I wanted to refuse. But my shoulder was squeezed hard. Julian: “No problem, my Chloe loves taking care of Sweetie the most.” 3 It was 1 AM, and Julian still hadn’t returned. After he and Mia left, the empty apartment was left with just me and Sweetie. After taking care of her for six months, I couldn’t be totally heartless. I poured out some cat food and called her over to eat. Sweetie seemed not to hear, continuing to lie by the door, waiting. I figured she was probably waiting for Mia. I went over to hold her. But she extended her claws and scratched me. As if to say: Get lost, don’t bother me. My heart was pierced again. Thinking about how, despite my best efforts over the past six months, she remained unmoved. Even when I approached. She would assume a defensive posture. A surge of anger rose in my chest. I kicked the cat bowl over. Instantly, cat food scattered all over the floor. Sweetie let out a frightened “meow,” arched her back, and lunged at me. Just then, the door was violently pushed open. Mia rushed in, screaming: “Sweetie—” Julian followed closely behind. Mia quickly picked up Sweetie, looking at me with a defensive glare. “Chloe, what are you doing?” “What did Sweetie ever do to you? Do you really have to starve her?” “I… I didn’t…” I tried to explain. But Mia wasn’t listening. She raised her hand and shoved me. I wasn’t expecting it, lost my balance, and fell to the floor. When you’re unlucky, even drinking cold water can make you choke. When I fell, my lower back hit the corner of the sofa perfectly. The pain made me curl up, tears rolling down my face. I looked up at Julian. Only to find that he wasn’t even glancing my way. He was busy comforting the woman in his arms. Mia cried pathetically, “This is abuse. I’m calling the police. I can’t even imagine what kind of life Sweetie has lived these past six months…” “Julian, is your girlfriend even human? My cat is so well-behaved, how could she do this, boo hoo hoo…” Julian patted her back soothingly. His eyes overflowed with heartache. “Mia, maybe today was just an accident.” “Chloe usually dotes on Sweetie.” Hearing Julian speak up for me, Mia immediately pulled away from his embrace. Her tear-filled eyes glared at Julian. Without any real threat. “You’re taking her side?” Julian paused, wanting to say he didn’t mean that at all. Because he knew how much I liked Sweetie. But seeing Mia looking like she wouldn’t let it go. Julian turned to me and coldly ordered: “Chloe, apologize to Mia and Sweetie. Say it was an accident.” 4 The moment I looked up, my tears fell uncontrollably. Julian, in his immaculate custom suit, looked aloof and aristocratic. He was looking down at me with disdain. His eyes were indifferent and icy. Lacking even a trace of heartache. In a flash, the last string in my heart completely snapped. When I looked up again, I met Julian’s gaze with calm composure. “Why should I?” Julian was stunned. “What did you say?” This time, I straightened my back and said firmly: “Why should I apologize? Do you even know what really happened?” Julian clearly didn’t expect me, who was usually obedient and compliant, to fight back. He froze for a second, then quickly recovered. As if realizing something. He stepped forward and gripped my wrist tightly. “Chloe, there has to be a limit to your jealousy. Isn’t it a fact that you kicked over the cat bowl?” “You’ve taken care of her for six months and Sweetie still doesn’t like you. Why don’t you look for the reason within yourself? Is it really that hard to apologize when you’ve done something wrong?” I didn’t expect Julian to be so capable of twisting the truth. He was the one who lied to me. I foolishly raised the cat for six months. And the cat still wasn’t affectionate with me. If I hadn’t been wearing thick clothes today, my arm would have had deep, bloody scratches. But he didn’t think about any of that. His heart had already tilted since Mia returned. A sudden, immense feeling of powerlessness surged over me. I couldn’t be bothered to explain anymore. I swatted Julian’s hand away and prepared to go upstairs. “Whatever you say.” Seeing me leaving, Mia panicked and lunged to grab my hair. “Bitch, you hurt my cat and you think you can just walk away?” “Hiss,” my hair felt like it was being pulled out by the roots, a piercing pain shooting through my scalp. I was forced to lean back. I instinctively reached out to protect my hair. But no matter how much I slapped at her hands, it was useless. I tried to reach out and pull her hair. But just as I was about to touch Mia, my hand was intercepted by a well-defined hand. My hand hung suspended in mid-air. Julian said coldly: “Chloe, have you thrown enough of a tantrum?!” It felt like a ball of cotton was lodged in my throat, unable to go up or down. My fingertips turned white from clenching them so tightly. I feigned composure. But I couldn’t control my own eyes. I quickly lowered my gaze, letting the tears blur my vision. Julian seemed unable to bear it. He looked at Mia, “Mia, Chloe is just immature. She raised Sweetie for six months, so she has feelings for her. I believe she didn’t intentionally keep Sweetie from eating.” “How about this? You’ve vented your anger. For my sake, let’s just drop this.” After Julian finished speaking, Mia reluctantly let go. A clump of long black hair fell to the floor. “If it weren’t for the fact that she’s your girlfriend, she’d be locked up by now. You know I have the power to do that.” Julian, like a sycophant, flattered her: “You’re absolutely right.” I didn’t even look at them. I just turned and went upstairs. The thought of breaking up surfaced for the first time right then.

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While my colleagues were grinning from ear to ear, holding their generous year-end bonuses, I happily stepped onto the stage. Mia, the CEO’s secretary, held a single scallion tied with a red ribbon and threw it at me with a mocking smirk. “Director Hastings, here is your year-end bonus: one scallion.” A wave of snickers rippled through the audience as malicious glances darted my way. I looked at Mia with a cold face. “What is the meaning of this?” She looked at me arrogantly. “Some people are just like a scallion, so they get a scallion. Is there a problem?” I ignored her. Suppressing my anger, I turned around, pushed open the door to my CEO husband’s office, threw the scallion onto his desk, and demanded an answer. “What do you mean by giving me a scallion for a year-end bonus? Are you intentionally humiliating me?” Ethan laughed dismissively and said, “It’s just a joke. Is it really worth interrogating me over? It’s just a little bonus, why are you being so petty?” “Besides, if you hadn’t embarrassed Mia in front of the client last time, I wouldn’t have played this joke on you to vent her frustration. In the end, it’s your own fault.” So, he humiliated me with a scallion just because last time, Mia acted out in front of our partners and almost ruined the deal, and I reprimanded her, making her lose face. My heart felt a dense, pricking pain, like rows of needles piercing it. Since you care so much about Mia’s pride, I’ll grant your wish. “Since my year-end bonus is only worth a scallion, I resign.” … It turns out that years of marriage couldn’t compare to an outsider who just showed up. I looked at him in disbelief. “So, to vent Mia’s frustration, you used a scallion to humiliate me.” “Ethan, do you have any idea how big of a mistake she made during that negotiation? She publicly embarrassed the client. If I hadn’t reprimanded Mia right in front of Mr. Lee, do you think we would have secured that deal?” “You were the one who told me I had to win that contract no matter what. Don’t you know how much effort I put into it? Mr. Lee is notoriously difficult to deal with. I had to swallow my pride and flatter him just to get him to consider working with us.” “And what did you do? Just to boost Mia’s status, you shoved her into my project without even telling me. I tolerated that. But when she almost ruined the deal, you actually blamed me? Ethan, do you even have a heart?” A flicker of guilt crossed Ethan’s face. Just then, Mia walked in. Hearing my words, she squeezed out a look of grievance. “Mr. Sterling, did I make things difficult for you again?” “If I had known, I would have just let Mr. Lee humiliate me. Even if it was uncomfortable, I should have endured it. Even if I had to kneel and grovel, I should have endured it.” “It’s just that I thought, since our company is now publicly listed and was recognized as a leading enterprise in Seattle this year, if we still have to sell our dignity to please clients, wouldn’t we look weak and invite contempt? That’s why I stood up for myself. I didn’t expect Director Hastings to make such a big deal out of it.” “I’m sorry. I just wanted to protect the dignity of the company and you, Mr. Sterling. I didn’t want people to think our partnerships were won by selling our dignity and groveling.” I sneered internally. Her so-called “difficulty” was just being asked to drink two glasses of wine at the dinner table. I had already drank almost a whole bottle and even took the drinks meant for her. And what did she do? She threw a glass of wine right in Mr. Lee’s face, publicly humiliating him. If I hadn’t humbled myself, apologized, and reprimanded Mia, promising to teach her a lesson to appease him, Mr. Lee would have walked out right then and there. There would have been no partnership. And Ethan knew all of this. He had even promised to give me an explanation. But with just a few twisted words from Mia, his heart instantly biased towards her. His so-called explanation turned out to be teaching me a lesson. Since that was the case, I decided it was time to lay all my cards on the table. Hearing Mia’s words, a look of heartache flashed in Ethan’s eyes, and his gaze towards me grew sharper. “Chloe, Mia did nothing wrong in this matter. She’s right. We are a publicly listed company now; the old ways don’t suit us anymore.” “We need to maintain a certain image. If others knew we had no dignity when doing business, wouldn’t we become the laughingstock of the industry?” Hearing Ethan’s defense, Mia shot me a triumphant look. “That’s right, Director Hastings. Even though you are the Sales Director, I have to say this: next time you negotiate a deal, please stop putting on this ‘bitter suffering’ act in front of Mr. Sterling. I know that now that Mr. Sterling’s net worth is over a hundred million, you feel insecure, but you shouldn’t use such low-class tactics to win his sympathy.” “You always make it seem like getting deals is so hard, deliberately lowering your status, letting the clients make things difficult for you, and then playing the victim.” “This really damages the company’s reputation. Although I understand that a middle-aged woman feeling inferior to her successful husband might feel insecure about living off him, you shouldn’t jeopardize the company’s future.” “Giving you a scallion for your year-end bonus was my suggestion to Mr. Sterling, precisely to make you realize your place and stop thinking you’re so smart.” So, giving me a scallion was Mia’s idea. And regarding those partnerships… Yes, our company was publicly listed, but the market was practically saturated. We hadn’t even established a firm foothold yet. What capital did we have to throw attitudes at our partners? One misstep could send us crashing down, never to recover. But looking at him now, it seemed Ethan had completely forgotten where he came from. With bloodshot eyes, I looked at Ethan in disbelief. “Is that what you think too?” Ethan nodded. “Of course. Mia is right. We are a publicly listed company now; negotiating deals doesn’t require much effort. It was all just a tactic you used to play the victim and make my heart ache.” “Considering our years together, let this scallion serve as a lesson. Next time, you are not allowed to do anything that damages the company’s dignity.” My expression remained flat, but because of our years of history, I still wanted to give Ethan one last chance. “So, you don’t intend to give me the year-end bonus I rightfully earned?” “I’ve told you many times, this bonus is very important to me. It concerns a very important matter. I must have it.” “And you clearly promised you would give it to me.” Ethan’s face stiffened. At this moment, Mia feigned surprise and chimed in, “But the year-end bonus that belonged to you this year has already been used by Mr. Sterling to buy me a car.” With that, Mia pulled a Bugatti car key from her pocket and dangled it triumphantly in front of me. Looking at the Bugatti key in her hand, my emotions erupted again. “This is the year-end bonus you gave her? She hasn’t contributed a single thing to the company this past year and even ruined several key projects. Not firing her was already a mercy, and she gets a Bugatti for a year-end bonus?!” “And you used my bonus to buy it for her.” “Ethan, is this the fairness you’ve always preached?” A flash of anger mixed with embarrassment crossed Ethan’s face, and he quickly defended himself loudly. “Mia is new. I gave her this reward just to motivate her to work hard.” “You’re my wife. You already have everything. Do you really need to care about that little bonus?” “What’s wrong with using your bonus to motivate an employee?” I sneered. “There are so many new employees in the company, but I don’t see you using Bugattis to motivate them. Ethan, do you even believe your own excuse?” Ethan’s face stiffened slightly, then he stubbornly replied, “Now that the company is public, do I still need to care about what others think?” “I also don’t allow my employees to sacrifice their dignity to please clients.” But I clearly remembered the client, Mr. Lee. Ethan had demanded that I secure the partnership no matter how difficult they made it. But when it came to Mia, she couldn’t suffer even the slightest grievance. Since the feelings were gone, arguing further would only humiliate myself. “Since that’s the case, I resign.” “Also, let’s get a divorce.” Ethan looked at me in disbelief, as if he had misheard. “Chloe, did I hear that right?” “You want to resign and divorce over this little thing? What exactly are you trying to do? Do you really care about that little bit of money that much?” I stared at him intently. “It is quite important. So since you won’t give it to me, let’s separate.” I was originally the heir to the wealthiest family in New York, but to be with Ethan, I made a pact with my family. As long as I helped Ethan succeed in his startup and he was willing to share his wealth with me, or if my personal account reached a balance of one hundred million dollars within six years, the family would recognize our marriage. They would accept his status as the Hastings family’s son-in-law. Otherwise, I would have to divorce him, return to the family to accept an arranged marriage, and inherit the family enterprise. But after Ethan’s company went public, he didn’t give me any shares. He said he had to treat all employees equally and couldn’t give me shares just because I was his wife, as it would make people think it was a “mom-and-pop” shop, which would look bad. He said he had to be fair and treat me like an ordinary employee. So I had to rely on my own abilities to reach a deposit of one hundred million dollars. For the past year, I had been desperately socializing, pulling in business from all over, and swallowing my pride, all to fulfill the pact with my family. With this year-end bonus of over thirty million dollars, I would have reached the one-hundred-million-dollar goal. I never expected that Ethan would casually take this money to buy Mia a Bugatti. And all I got was a scallion. Since he treated me like this, I had nothing left to hold onto. Ethan jumped up, looking at me fiercely. “Chloe, so it really is about this little bit of money. Why are you so obsessed with money?” “It seems Mia was right. You’re only with me for the money.” “These past few years, you’ve been stingy and calculating with your salary, and you even asked me for shares before. Fortunately, I was smart enough not to give them to you. It seems I was right.” My heart was pierced once again. So, he knew I wanted shares back then, and he didn’t give them to me not because of some so-called fairness, but because he was guarding against me from the very beginning. My mother had told me back then that Ethan’s intentions were not pure, that he didn’t treat relationships as innocently as I did. I didn’t believe her then. Now it seems, I was indeed a poor judge of character. Seeing me stay silent, Ethan felt even more certain that his assessment was correct. His gaze towards me grew increasingly mocking. “I hit the nail on the head, didn’t I? You have nothing to say for yourself, do you?” Seeing his angry and defensive state, I felt even more that my sacrifices over the years were worthless. “Ethan, from accompanying you when you started the business to desperately pulling in deals for the company now, you just think I’m doing it for money?” “This Mia has only been at the company for a year. You believe whatever she says, and whenever she makes a mistake, you think it’s never her fault.” “While I dedicate myself entirely to the company, you suspect me at every turn. Ethan, I hope you won’t regret this.” Ethan scoffed coldly. “But your constant calculating over money is also a fact. I didn’t falsely accuse you. Now that I won’t give it to you, you’re threatening to resign and divorce. What else is there to say?” “Since you want a divorce, then leave with nothing. I just hope you don’t regret it.” Looking at his heartless and emotionless attitude, my heart went completely cold. “Fine. I will leave with nothing.” With that, I turned and walked away, my back straight. At the office door, my colleagues cast various glances my way—some sympathetic, some gloating, and some indifferent. Mia’s delicate voice came from behind: “Mr. Sterling, with Director Hastings gone, what will happen to the Sales Department?” Ethan sneered. “Will the company stop running without her? It’s the perfect opportunity for someone capable to step up.” My steps didn’t falter, but a faint smirk appeared on my lips. Yes, let’s see if the company keeps running without me. I quickly packed the items on my desk and headed straight to the underground parking garage. Looking at my secondhand Honda, which probably couldn’t even buy a single part of Mia’s car, my heart ached even more. I had thought about changing cars before, but to save money, I kept repairing this one, never bearing to part with it. Looking back now, it was truly a joke. Just then, my phone rang. It was my father. “The six years are up. It’s time to fulfill our agreement.” I let out a breath and raised the corners of my mouth. “I’ve decided to return and inherit the family business.” My father didn’t expect this answer. His tone was somewhat cautious. “Chloe, you mean returning alone to inherit the family? Did something happen between you and Ethan?” “I’m getting a divorce. I misjudged him all these years.” There was a moment of silence on the other end. “I support your decision. But people of the Hastings family don’t suffer grievances in silence.” “I’m coming to bring you home right now.” Hearing this, my nose stung, and tears threatened to fall. “Thank you, Dad.” I hung up, drove home, packed a few personal items, and threw the rest into the trash. Then, I printed out a divorce agreement. Just as I was about to send it to Ethan, the villa door slammed open, and Ethan stormed in. He slapped me across the face. “Chloe, I never expected you to be so malicious as to scratch Mia’s new car out of jealousy.” “So what if I used your year-end bonus? How can you be so petty?” “Mia is still blaming herself, thinking you brought up divorce because of her. And you? You turn around and scratch her car. You’ve gone too far.” “I’ll give you one chance. Buy Mia a new car with your own money, and I’ll forgive you. Otherwise, don’t blame me for being ruthless.” I looked at him in disbelief, not expecting him to actually hit me for Mia’s sake. “I didn’t scratch her car, and I definitely won’t pay to buy her a new one.” Ethan sneered. “Who else could it be? Someone saw you go to the underground parking garage after leaving, and then Mia’s car was scratched. Who else would dare scratch such an expensive car?” “If you do something wrong, you must accept the punishment. You ruined her new car, so you should compensate her with a new one.” I refused again. “I went to the parking garage to get my car. I never even saw her new car, so how could I have scratched it?” “If you don’t believe me, go check the security cameras.” At that moment, Mia walked in looking deeply wronged. “Did Director Hastings say that because she knew the cameras in that section of the underground parking garage are broken for maintenance?” “I know you’re jealous that Mr. Sterling bought me a new car while you’re still driving a secondhand Honda, but if you wanted to drive my new car, you just had to ask. I would have let you drive it. Why did you have to scratch it?” “Do you know those few scratches will cost millions to repair? You knew I didn’t have the money, so you did it on purpose to humiliate me, didn’t you?” Ethan looked heartbroken, and his gaze towards me grew increasingly disgusted. “Chloe, you scratched the car, so whether it’s buying a new one or repairing it, you must pay for it.” Seeing his aggressive demeanor, I confirmed once again that our marriage was truly over. I didn’t answer him. Instead, I handed over my divorce agreement. “This is the divorce agreement. I’m leaving with nothing. Sign it. I’m too tired to waste words on you.” “As for the car, I didn’t scratch it, and I won’t accept the blame. If you insist on making me responsible, then call the police. Let them find the truth.” A flicker of excitement flashed across Mia’s face when she saw the divorce agreement, but upon hearing me mention the police, a hint of guilt mixed with her excitement. So, she had orchestrated the whole thing herself. “You really want a divorce? Chloe, you must realize that without me, you are nothing. Think carefully.” “I’ve thought it through clearly. Sign it.” Ethan snatched the divorce agreement, quickly signed it, and threw it at me. “I’ve signed it. From now on, even if you kneel on the ground and beg, I won’t give you another chance.” “Since you won’t admit to scratching the car, I’ll handle it by calling the police.” He took out his phone to call the police, but his assistant called him instead. “Mr. Sterling, something happened.” “The partners who were supposed to sign contracts today didn’t show up. They’re all demanding to cancel their contracts.” “Furthermore, not only did the bank loan not come through today, but they’re calling in our existing debts early. The company is in complete chaos.” Ethan’s pupils contracted in disbelief. “What nonsense are you spouting? How is that possible?” “Everything was fine when I left the company. In just a few short hours, who has the power to do this? This is clearly trying to drive me to my death.” Assistant Wang’s tone was frantic. “Then, Director Hastings, think carefully. Have you offended anyone recently?” “This attack doesn’t feel like normal business tactics; it feels more like a vendetta. They didn’t leave any room for negotiation.” “Mr. Sterling, you need to think of a solution quickly. The company’s phones are ringing off the hook. The suppliers are calling like they coordinated it, demanding payment. But the bank loan didn’t come through today, and our liquid assets have already been invested in other projects. We have no way out.” Ethan stumbled back a few steps and was caught by Mia. “Mr. Sterling, could this be Chloe’s doing?” “We haven’t offended anyone recently. Besides her holding a grudge, who else would do this?” “She must have colluded with someone in the company to set you up. Don’t worry, we are a publicly listed company. We won’t collapse just because of her petty tricks. She’s just trying to scare you.” Ethan glared at me furiously, his eyes blazing with anger. “Chloe, how could you gamble with the company’s future? Do you know this will cause massive problems for the company?” “If our competitors find out and deliberately spread rumors about us, these fake issues could be blown up into real ones. If the company loses its credibility, who will work with us?” “The company just went public. Doing this will affect our stock price, and if we’re not careful, we risk bankruptcy. How could you do this for your own selfish gain?” “You’ve truly disappointed me. But let me tell you, I’m calling the company right now to revoke your position and blackball you from the entire industry. Let’s see who dares to put on an act with you then.” After saying that, he immediately called Assistant Wang. He started off with an interrogation. “Assistant Wang, did Chloe bribe you to put on an act with me?” “What benefits did she give you to help her like this? You know if you cause losses to the company because of this, I can have you sent to jail.” “I’m telling you right now, I have signed the divorce agreement with Chloe. She leaves with nothing. I am now revoking all of Chloe’s positions in the company and blackballing her from the industry.” “Are you still going to betray me with her? If you don’t tell me the truth, and if anything goes wrong with this partnership, I will hold you fully responsible.” Facing Ethan’s accusations, Assistant Wang was utterly bewildered. “Mr. Sterling, what are you talking about?” “What does this have to do with Director Hastings? Have you misunderstood something?” “A very important person has just arrived at the company. I suggest you come back immediately, or things will really go south.” After hanging up the phone, Ethan glared at me, his eyes full of scrutiny. “Is this really not an act you and Assistant Wang put on to scare me?” I sneered and didn’t answer his question directly. “I never try to scare people.” “I suggest you head back to the company and see for yourself.” An ugly look flashed across his face, and he glared at me viciously. “If I find out the company’s issues have anything to do with you, I won’t let you off.” Watching his retreating back, I raised an eyebrow. “Ethan, enjoy your last days of glory.” If my guess was right, the one taking action should be my father. I just didn’t expect him to move so swiftly, practically paralyzing Ethan’s company in just a few hours. After packing my personal belongings and leaving the villa, a stretch Lincoln stopped in front of me. “Miss, the Master sent me to pick you up first. There will be a grand show in a few days.” I nodded and got in the car. Meanwhile, Ethan rushed back to the company. As soon as he entered, Assistant Wang briefed him on the situation. Then, he led him to the conference room. “This is Mr. Hastings from the Hastings family in New York. He is here today to discuss acquiring our company.” Hearing the word “acquisition,” Ethan’s eyes widened in shock, his face instantly turning pale. “The Hastings family… wants to acquire my company?” He looked at the powerful middle-aged man sitting there, instantly understanding the truth. What happened to the company today had nothing to do with me; it was orchestrated by the Mr. Hastings before him, precisely for this acquisition. But why would the prominent Hastings family of New York set their sights on his unremarkable company? Could it be that he had offended someone in the Hastings family? He quickly adjusted his emotions, his eyes revealing a hint of flattery when he looked at the man. “Mr. Hastings, I built this company through hard work. It’s my lifeblood. I wonder what it is about this company that caught your eye?” “Or perhaps I offended you in some way, causing you to target my small company? If you tell me, I will sincerely apologize.” “I just hope you can give me a chance, considering I’m just a junior who doesn’t know any better.”

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In my last life, they murdered me. Now, I’ve been reincarnated as the unborn daughter of a tragic heroine. In that past life, my mother was lured into a vicious trap by her best friend and her husband. It was a “two lives, one casket” ending. In this life? I was a D-list actress who specialized in playing tragic extras before I died, and I’ll be damned if I let my mother and myself go up in flames again. When that “best friend” sent the invitation to the gala again, my mother’s hand wouldn’t stop shaking as she gripped her phone. I rolled my eyes in the amniotic fluid. My thoughts crashed into her mind like a physical blow. [Mom, stop shaking! You’re causing a damn tsunami in here!] [Crying is the most useless thing on this planet. Suck those tears back in, now!] My mother’s eyes widened in sheer terror. “Who… who’s speaking?!” [Don’t go looking for a ghost. I’m the kid in your belly!] Without mercy, I forced the memory of her previous death into her brain—the image of her “best friend” pushing her off that penthouse balcony. The sensation of falling. The snap of bone. The phantom pain and raw terror sent her into a breakdown. She curled up on the floor, letting out a desperate, broken whimpering. [Begging for mercy? Last time, you knelt and begged them, and they didn’t even blink. It didn’t save us then, and it won’t save us now.] [But it’s okay. Your kid is a professional. I might have spent my last life as a nobody playing corpses on Law & Order, but I’ve memorized every trope and screenplay in the book. If you listen to me, I promise you your revenge.] My mother stared blankly at her stomach. I let out a mental smirk. [Acting Rule Number One: The most profound contempt is found in the simplest actions.] [Now, smile. And tell her yes.] My mother hesitated, but under the sheer pressure of my mental will, she reached for the phone that had slid across the floor. She squeezed out a smile that looked more painful than a sob and accepted that “invitation to a funeral.” 1 The moment she hung up, she collapsed, her strength spent. I didn’t give her a second to breathe. I kept the lesson going. [Acting Rule Number Two: Retreat to advance. Vulnerability is often your sharpest weapon.] [Pick up the phone again. Call your mother-in-law, Beatrice West. You know, the one who treats you like an oven for her ‘precious legacy heir.’] My mother resisted, but she loved me—or at least the idea of me. She followed my lead. When the call connected, Beatrice’s impatient, sharp voice barked through the speaker. “What is it now? Focus on the pregnancy and stop calling me every five minutes!” My mother flinched, the words dying in her throat. [Cry! Now! Let it out!] [Tell her your heart is racing, your head is spinning, and you can’t stand the smell of grease. Oh—and tell her you’re craving something sour.] With my permission, the dam broke. My mother’s tears flowed, her voice trembling with genuine grievance as she recited my script. “Mom… I… I’ve been feeling so dizzy lately. Every time I smell cooking oil, I feel like I’m going to be sick… and all I want to eat are green apples and lemons…” There was a heartbeat of silence on the other end. Then, Beatrice’s tone shifted instantly. It became sharp, urgent, and almost frantic. “Nauseous? Craving sour things?” “Don’t move! And don’t you dare eat any of that trashy takeout! I’m taking you to the hospital for a check-up tomorrow. Nothing can happen to the West family heir!” [Acting Rule Number Four: When danger is near, muddy the waters to find a way out.] [Tell her you can’t go to the hospital because you promised Tiffany Sinclair you’d go to her party.] My mother sobbed, her voice heavy with feigned conflict. “But… I already told Tiffany…” [No ‘buts.’ Speak!] Under my coercion, my mother spoke in a frail, tiny voice. “Mom, I promised Tiffany I’d go to her Halloween gala tomorrow night…” “What gala?! Absolutely not!” Beatrice’s voice jumped an octave, pure fury. My mother’s eyes welled up with a fresh layer of tears. [Quick, say you’re afraid of making Tiffany angry. Tell her to talk to Tyler.] My mother’s voice was timid. “Mom, maybe… maybe you should talk to Tyler? I’m just afraid Tiffany will be… upset with me.” “Upset? Who cares if that outsider is upset? Is she more important than my grandson? I’m calling that boy right now!” The line went dead. My mother looked at her pale reflection in the mirror, blinking, lost. I was satisfied. [Mom, remember this. A woman’s tears are never meant for a dog of a man. From today on, your tears are only for the performance.] My mother didn’t quite understand, but she nodded anyway. 2 The next morning, the doorbell rang. It was the gown Tiffany had “specially prepared” for my mother. “Jade, babe! I found the perfect ‘warrior’ outfit for you!” Tiffany’s voice over the phone was so sweet it was nauseating. “With your pale skin, this ‘Fallen Starlet’ piece is going to kill. Trust me, you’ll be the envy of the room tonight!” My mother held up the black dress. It was barely a handful of sheer fabric. The sight of it made her stomach churn, and she gagged. I hissed immediately, [Don’t you dare throw up!] [Showing weakness is the cardinal sin of acting. Do what I say. Smile. Take it. Tell her you love it so much you want to sleep in it.] My mother hated every second of it, but she forced a stiff smile and took the dress. “Thank you… I love it. It’s a very… airy design.” Tiffany sounded delighted and hung up. The second the screen went black, my mother bolted for the bathroom and retched. She leaned against the wall, staring at her bedraggled self in the mirror, her eyes filling with humiliation and hatred. She was remembering the last life—the cold, the pain, the betrayal. She grabbed the “Fallen Starlet” dress, ready to tear it to shreds. [Hey, hey! Stop! Don’t throw it away.] My mother froze. “But… this is the evidence of how they killed us.” I raised a mental eyebrow. [A good tool should be used where it hurts most. Sometimes, poison is the only way to break a stalemate. Go get your eyebrow scissors.] My mother walked to the vanity, confused. [See the side seams on that dress? Use the scissors. Snip the threads every few inches. Make it so that a stiff breeze—or a gentle tug—will make the whole thing fall apart. Remember, a prop only has value when it fulfills its destiny.] My mother’s eyes lit up. She delicately picked at the seams, weakening the structural integrity of the gown. [Perfect. Now it’s a dress with a mission. Next prop: that diamond necklace Tyler gave you.] [The idiot tried to save money by taking the diamonds off your old jewelry and putting them on a new chain, but he forgot one thing: the clasp on that pendant is actually a high-end micro-recorder you bought years ago for your acting classes.] Understanding my plan, my mother dug through the bottom of her jewelry box. … By evening, my “dear” father, Tyler West, was home. The moment he walked in, he saw my mother in that black “warrior” dress. I didn’t miss the flicker of disgust in his eyes, but I kept my mouth shut. His hand slid over her waist, his fingers lingering meaningfully over the weakened seams. “Honey, you look stunning,” he murmured. “Don’t drink at the party. Take care of yourself.” Following my instructions, my mother lowered her head, a perfect flush of “shyness” on her cheeks. “I’ll be there. I won’t let you or Tiffany down.” Tyler smiled—the smile of a hunter watching his prey step into a snare. Right then, her phone shrieked. Caller ID: Mother-in-Law. Her “good” mother-in-law was always on time. [Mom, put it on speaker.] Beatrice’s scream erupted instantly. “Jade Montgomery! If you dare step foot in that trashy club tonight, don’t you ever think about stepping foot back in this house!” My mother’s eyes turned red instantly. Tears rolled down her face—she had truly mastered Rule Number Two. “Mom, Tyler and Tiffany really want me to go… I’m too scared to say no…” Before she could finish, the doorbell rang. Tiffany was here to pick her up, swaying in a long white silk gown, looking like a literal angel. She walked right into the middle of the mother-in-law showdown. “It’s just a party, what’s the big deal?” Tiffany’s eyes flashed with disdain as she snatched the phone and hung up on Beatrice. “Why do you listen to that old bat? You’ve got Tyler and me. Who could possibly hurt you?” My mother smiled but said nothing. Just before walking out the door, she clipped the diamond necklace around her neck. The click of the clasp sounded like a gavel hitting a bench. [Mom, remember. Tonight, you are the director—and the only lead actress.] 3 The music in the ballroom was deafening. Tyler’s arm was clamped around my mother’s waist as he introduced her to the crowd. “This is my wife, Jade.” But his eyes were constantly drifting past her, exchanging secret glances with Tiffany, who was dressed as an elegant jasmine flower in the middle of the crowd. Seeing the room that looked exactly like the one from her memories—the place where her nightmare began—my mother nearly faltered. I cleared my throat mentally. [Mom, stop shaking. Confidence is the first requirement of a lead! Straighten your back. Channel that old-money Montgomery energy. Imagine you’re a queen inspecting the peasants.] My mother took a deep breath, and her tremors miraculously stilled. Tiffany glided over, holding two glasses of red wine, her smile sweet and venomous. “Jade, you look so pale. Are you feeling okay? Why don’t I take you upstairs to a private room to rest for a bit?” My mother’s body stiffened. She instinctively wanted to refuse. I cut in. [Go with her. The recorder is running. You can’t catch the tiger if you don’t enter the den. Move.] My mother nodded and let Tiffany lead her toward the elevator. As soon as the doors closed, the mask slipped. Tiffany’s face twisted with malice. “Jade, why do you insist on playing the victim?” She leaned into my mother’s ear. “You’re a useless waste of space who was born into the right family. You don’t deserve Tyler. Don’t you feel disgusted, hogging the title of Mrs. West?” “But it’s fine. After tonight, you won’t be the high-and-mighty Jade Montgomery anymore.” She giggled, a sharp, piercing sound. “Can you guess tomorrow’s headlines? ‘Socialite’s Secret Life of Sin: Caught in Bed at a Wild Party.’ Doesn’t it sound spicy?” She gestured excitedly. “By tomorrow, you’ll be a branded adulteress. The shame of the West family!” I couldn’t help but laugh mentally. This bitch was as dumb as she was cruel. [Mom, you don’t have to hold it in anymore. Give her the full ‘weak and helpless’ performance!] My mother let herself go. Her body shook violently, large tears spilled over, and her lips trembled so hard she couldn’t speak. Her fear was half-acting, half-PTSD from her previous life. It was a perfect blend of Method and Meisner. Tiffany was ecstatic seeing her like this. She didn’t notice my mother’s hand gently pressing the clasp of her necklace. “Yes! That’s the face! Keep that expression for when the reporters burst in!” Tiffany laughed, patting my mother’s pale cheek. “Cry harder. It makes it more believable.” Ding. The elevator reached the 18th floor. Tiffany dragged my mother down the hall to Room 1808. She pulled out a keycard and waved it mockingly. Beep. The lock clicked. Her smile turned demonic as she shoved my mother from behind! My mother stumbled into the darkness of the room. Click. The door was locked from the outside. Inside, the heavy scent of alcohol was overwhelming. A tall silhouette rose from the sofa, his voice thick with confusion. “What the hell? Why was she shoved in?” “Aaaah!” My mother’s scream shattered the silence of the room. The man froze. [Now! Improv Rule Number Six: A great actor knows how to create a highlight! Tear the seams! Cry! Cry like the world is ending!]

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I found a GPS tracker hidden under my car by my husband. He thought his plan was flawless, but it chilled me to the bone. My sister-in-law was trying to get pregnant, desperately seeking medical advice every day. I smiled kindly and handed her my car keys: “This car has a safety blessing. You’ll feel more at ease driving it to your checkups.” She thanked me profusely, completely unaware that danger was already quietly hitting the road. Until the sound of police sirens pierced the air the next day. My mother-in-law’s wails were heart-wrenching. Only then did he understand my ruthlessness. 1 The afternoon sun was a bit glaring, and the fan-shaped mist from the pressure washer refracted a fleeting rainbow. I was bent over, washing the car with a soft sponge. It was a white SUV, bought with the bonus from my very first project. Ethan didn’t like this car. He thought its lines weren’t sharp enough, that it didn’t match his status as an investment manager. But I liked it. I liked its rounded lines and spacious interior, like a mobile fortress that could whisk me away at any moment. The water flushed through the tire treads, washing away the mud and sand. My fingertips accidentally brushed against an edge on the car’s undercarriage. There was something stuck there that didn’t belong to the car itself. It was a small, rough, magnetic block. My movements halted for a second, my heart feeling like it had been violently seized by an invisible hand. I didn’t rip it off immediately. I stood up and turned off the pressure washer. It was dead silent around me, save for the rhythmic dripping of water sliding off the car body. I took out my phone, adjusted the angle, and snapped a picture of that little black block. The photo clearly showed its outline, and a faintly blinking indicator light. Back home, I locked myself in the study and uploaded the photo to my computer. Zoom in, search. Every word of the results that popped up on the screen felt like a cold chisel, carving a bloody hole in my heart. High-precision GPS tracker, ultra-long standby, silent operation. So that was it. No wonder last week, when I suddenly changed the meeting location with a client, Ethan’s call came “coincidentally” right as I walked into the new cafe. No wonder he always managed to send a considerate “Don’t rush, drive safe” text exactly when I was feeling frustrated in traffic. I used to be touched by this telepathic connection. Thinking about it now, I only felt a churning nausea in my stomach. I leaned back in my chair, closed my eyes, and tried to steady my breathing. Besides the tracker, there was something else. That smell. For the past month, a faint, sickly-sweet scent would constantly drift from the car’s AC vents. I thought it was time to change the cabin air filter and even mentioned it to Ethan. What was his answer then? He said the new car freshener was just a bit too strong and the smell would dissipate in a few days. And then there was my own body. An inexplicable exhaustion that an eight-hour sleep couldn’t relieve. Recurring skin allergies on my arms and calves that itched to the bone. I thought it was just the changing seasons, or maybe the stress from work. Now, all these clues were slithering out of dark corners like venomous snakes, wrapping around me, flicking their tongues. I didn’t touch anything. I shut down the computer and saved the photos on my phone into an encrypted folder. I prepared dinner as usual: washing rice, washing vegetables, chopping meat. The blade hitting the cutting board made a crisp sound—rhythmic, and cold. The lock turned, and Ethan was home. He was wearing a perfectly tailored suit, his hair meticulously styled, a gentle and refined smile on his face. He walked over and habitually hugged me from behind, resting his chin on my shoulder. “Tired today?” he asked. I could smell the mix of tobacco and cologne on him, a scent I used to be obsessed with, but now it only made me want to throw up. I shook my head, my voice as calm as stagnant water: “Not tired.” “By the way,” I turned my head, looking into his eyes, trying to make my expression look natural. “Is it time for the car to be serviced? I keep feeling like there’s something wrong with the AC lately.” His eyes flickered—very fast, almost imperceptibly. “Really? I just had someone check it a while ago. It might just be a dirty filter. I’ll take it to the dealership this weekend to have a look.” His answer was airtight, the smile on his face flawless. Halfway through dinner, my mother-in-law, Susan, called right on schedule. Ethan put her on speaker. “Chloe, did you go see the doctor or not? You’ve been married for three years, and your belly hasn’t shown any signs. Are you deliberately trying to end the Vance family line?” The shrill, mean voice drilled out of the receiver, piercing my eardrums like steel needles. “Our Ethan has a great career and good looks. Marrying you was the worst luck of his life! A hen that can’t lay eggs, what are you taking up space for!” My hand gripping the chopsticks tightened slightly, my knuckles turning white. Ethan immediately frowned and said to the phone, “Mom, what nonsense are you talking about! Chloe is under a lot of pressure too. We’re trying.” “Trying? Trying for three years and not even a fart to show for it! Let me tell you, Ethan, I don’t care. If there’s no news by the end of this year, you two are getting a divorce! I don’t want to die and be too ashamed to face your father!” The call was forcefully hung up by Susan. The dining room fell dead silent. Ethan sighed, placed a piece of ribs in my bowl, and spoke in a tone as gentle as coaxing a child. “Chloe, don’t listen to my mom. She’s just anxious to have a grandchild, she doesn’t mean any harm.” “Look at my sister, Lily. To get pregnant, she’s seeing doctors, getting checkups, working so hard. Let’s step it up too, okay?” Every sentence was a comfort, yet every sentence was applying pressure. Looking at his hypocritical face, and that fleeting gleam of calculation in his eyes, the temperature in my heart dropped inch by inch until it was frozen solid. This man I had loved for five years, this husband I had shared a bed with for three years, was personally weaving a massive web for me. And I was the prey about to be devoured. No. I won’t let him get his way. Late at night, Ethan was fast asleep, his breathing steady and long. I quietly got out of bed, walked to the living room, and picked up his phone. The password was our wedding anniversary—how ironic. I opened his WeChat, my fingers trembling slightly from nerves. I clicked on a contact with no profile picture, saved as “S.” There wasn’t much chat history, but every sentence was shocking. “Has she been suspicious lately?” “No, she’s very naive.” “How are the effects of the stuff?” “Should be soon. She’s always complaining about being tired lately.” Right then, a new message popped up at the top of the screen, from “S.” “How are things going? Once she definitely can’t have kids, you’ll have an excuse for your mom, and we can be together sooner.” I covered my mouth tightly to stop the sob from escaping. So, my physical discomfort, my mother-in-law’s pressure, his gentle traps—everything was a meticulously planned conspiracy. What he wanted wasn’t just for me to not be able to have children. He wanted me to be “proven” infertile. A bone-chilling cold rose from the soles of my feet, instantly spreading through my limbs and bones, freezing me into a sculpture devoid of warmth. Anger and hatred churned in my chest like magma, scorching every inch of my rationality. Very well. Ethan. If you want to play, I’ll play with you to the bitter end. 2 The next day, I called my company and asked for a sick leave with a hoarse voice. The excuse was a severe cold and physical discomfort. Hanging up, I dug out gloves and a mask from the storage room, arming myself securely. I needed to confirm again. Opening the car door, that sickly-sweet scent was even more distinct than yesterday. I didn’t start the car. Instead, I directly dismantled the glove box on the passenger side, revealing the cabin air filter compartment inside. The process was more complicated than I imagined, but as an architectural designer, I have a natural sensitivity to mechanical structures. I carefully pulled out the filter. In the deepest part of the filter, near the air vent, I found something. It wasn’t a normal car freshener. It was cleverly disguised as a black plastic part, tightly wedged in a structural crevice. Attached to it was a tiny flexible tube leading to a modified miniature device that could slowly release liquid. My heart beat wildly, almost leaping out of my throat. Using tweezers, I extremely carefully removed the entire device intact. Then, I placed the device in a sealed bag and cut off a small piece of the filter soaked in the liquid as a sample. Having done all this, I called Sarah. Sarah is my best friend from college and also a top-tier lawyer at the city’s premier law firm. When the call connected, I only said one sentence: “Sarah, I’m in trouble.” Sarah immediately heard the wrongness in my voice. “Where are you? Don’t move, I’ll be right there!” Half an hour later, Sarah rushed to my house. I placed the tracker and that strange device in front of her. After hearing my account, fury erupted on her usually calm and composed face. “That animal, Ethan! This is chronic poisoning! This is a crime!” She immediately helped me contact a highly professional and confidential private testing agency. They promised to have the results in 24 hours at the earliest. During the long, agonizing wait for the results, I didn’t let myself stay idle. I opened my laptop and began organizing all the assets under my and Ethan’s names. Married for three years, we had jointly invested in quite a few projects, mostly led by him. I checked them one by one, my heart sinking lower and lower. There were three wealth management products totaling over seven figures that should have been under our joint account, but were now missing. I checked the transaction records. They had been unilaterally transferred by Ethan a month ago to an account completely unknown to me. Sarah called, her voice grave. “Chloe, I just consulted with a colleague, and we have a terrifying theory.” “Ethan’s goal is likely a combo move.” “Step one: use drugs to ruin your body, making you ‘infertile’. Step two: use the tracker to monitor your whereabouts and fabricate ‘evidence’ of your indiscretion.” “Finally, during the divorce, he’ll leave you with nothing due to your ‘physical issues’ and ‘marital fault’.” My brain buzzed. I remembered now. Just two months ago, Ethan had subtly tried to get me to sign a property agreement. He said it was just in case—if our feelings ever changed, we could part amicably without hurting each other. I had only thought it was weird at the time and kept putting off signing it. Looking at it now, it was a trap he had laid long ago. I hung up, immediately put on my coat, and went to the bank. The bank statements spat out by the ATM were as long as a eulogy. They clearly recorded the path and time of every single asset transfer Ethan had made. Irrefutable evidence. Holding that stack of cold paper, I walked on the streets at dusk, the city’s neon lights blurring my vision. My phone vibrated. It was a WeChat message from my sister-in-law, Lily. “Sister-in-law, trying to get pregnant is too hard. I’m going to the city’s best fertility center tomorrow for a comprehensive checkup. Hoping for a good result.” Followed by a praying hands emoji. I looked at that line of text, looking at that glaring emoji. A bold, meticulous, and perhaps even crazy plan slowly broke ground on my frozen heart. Ethan, didn’t you want to watch a good show? Then I’ll let you see with your own eyes how you personally pushed your precious sister into the abyss. 3 The call from the testing agency came earlier than expected. The results were out. A chemical substance named “phthalate” was detected in the filter sample. This is an environmental hormone. Long-term, low-dose exposure severely disrupts the human endocrine system, causing irreversible damage to female reproductive health. Simply put, it can cause infertility. I gripped my phone, my fingertips freezing cold, drained of all color. The last bit of fantasy about our five-year relationship completely turned to ash along with that cold chemical term. I calmly deleted all call logs and contact information with the testing agency. Then, I took photos of the test report, uploaded them to the cloud, and set up multiple encryptions. Having done all this, I put on my gloves and took out that deadly “freshener” device. I installed it back into its original position in the car, untouched. Except, before installing it, I used a fine needle to quietly widen the small hole that released the liquid. This meant its evaporation rate would be several times faster than before. That evening, Ethan suggested we go back to his parents’ house for dinner. A trap I had long anticipated. At the dinner table, my mother-in-law, Susan, started her performance again. One minute she’s talking about how the neighbor’s daughter-in-law had a chubby baby boy, the next she’s talking about someone’s daughter who got pregnant right after getting married, saying she was born to be a good breeder. Every sentence was like a soft knife, stabbing at my heart again and again. Ethan, meanwhile, played his role of the twenty-four-filial-exemplar good husband. He “considerately” served me food, gently told me to eat more, and used his eyes to signal me not to mind his mother. That acting—it’s a waste he hasn’t won an Oscar. “Bro, Sister-in-law,” Lily put down her chopsticks, looking worried. “I’m going to the hospital tomorrow. The road to the city fertility center is too hard to navigate, and it’s impossible to get a cab during the morning rush hour.” The opportunity had arrived. I looked up, a remarkably gentle and kind smile blooming on my face. “Lily, why didn’t you say earlier that you needed a car?” I took my car keys out of my bag, placed them on the table, and pushed them toward her. “Take my car.” In an instant, everyone at the table froze. Surprise showed on the faces of both Ethan and Susan. I ignored them, just looking at Lily, my tone as sincere as could be. “My car just got serviced, it runs smooth. Plus, I heard this license plate number is super lucky; it brings good fortune.” I paused, adding with a smile. “Take it to your checkup. Maybe with the ‘good pregnancy’ blessing, you’ll succeed on the first try.” I enunciated the words “good pregnancy” very clearly. (Translator’s Note: In Chinese, “good fortune” and “good pregnancy” sound identical.) The doubts on my mother-in-law’s face vanished instantly. She eagerly urged Lily: “Your sister-in-law said so, what are you waiting for? Hurry up and thank her!” Ethan chimed in: “Yeah, Lily, your sister-in-law is just looking out for you.” He looked at me, a hint of probing in his eyes, but mostly satisfaction at my “putting the big picture first.” He probably thought I had been successfully brainwashed by him and his mother, and was trying hard to please their family. Lily was overjoyed, accepting the car keys with endless gratitude, clutching them tightly in her hand. “Thank you, Sister-in-law! You’re so good to me!” I smiled, looking at her face full of gratitude. Looking at the relieved expressions of Ethan and Susan behind her. There wasn’t a single ripple in my heart, only a bottomless, cold abyss. Go ahead. Drive this lucky car loaded with my husband’s “love” and your whole family’s “hopes.” Go meet your judgment. 4 The morning Lily drove to the hospital, the sky was a dreary gray. I used an unregistered SIM card I bought on the street yesterday to send a text message to someone. The recipient was Lily’s attending physician, Dr. Chen. I got his contact info from a registration slip Lily had accidentally posted on her Moments before. I revised the text message over a dozen times, carefully considering every single word. “Hello Dr. Chen, apologies for the intrusion. You have a patient surnamed Vance coming in today for fertility planning. She may have been unknowingly exposed to phthalate chemicals long-term. I suggest you pay attention to related indicators during the exam and check her belongings for contamination sources. This is purely for her health, please.” After sending the text, I immediately removed the SIM card, cut it into pieces with scissors, and flushed it down the toilet. I completely removed myself from this matter. Having done all this, I turned on my computer. I categorized and organized the chat logs of Ethan’s affair, the bank statements of the transferred family assets, and the photo of the GPS tracker. Then, I packaged and encrypted all the files and sent them to Sarah. Sarah replied almost instantly. “Everything is ready, just waiting for your signal.” I closed the laptop, walked to the window, and made myself a cup of coffee. The aroma of coffee filled the room, but my mood was exceptionally calm. I ran through all the possible scenarios that might unfold next, and my corresponding countermeasures, over and over in my head. I even had the mood to open my design software and start modifying a museum design project I had shelved for a long time. Lines flowed from my fingertips, constructing a space full of light and hope. Ironically, in reality, I was personally destroying another hypocritical palace. Around noon, Ethan called. “What are you doing at home? Feeling any better?” His tone carried an imperceptible probe. “Much better, just resting.” My voice sounded a bit languid, like a wife truly resting sick at home. I even “caringly” asked, “Did Lily’s checkup go smoothly?” Ethan was silent for two seconds on the other end of the line. “Should be soon, she hasn’t called me yet.” His voice betrayed a trace of nervousness even he hadn’t noticed. I smiled. What was he nervous about? Of course he was nervous. He desperately needed a report of his sister successfully getting pregnant to contrast my “incompetence.” He was also afraid his tampering would be discovered. But he would never have thought that the one to uncover all this would be his most beloved sister. He would never have thought that the protagonist of the stage he meticulously set was no longer me. But himself.

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When the story’s “true heroine” appeared, I was already pregnant with Liam Sterling’s child. Unable to fight fate, Liam had once abandoned everything and broken his engagement with her for me. Yet now, the universe forced him to hate me to the bone, finding me repulsive just to look at. Eventually, I got tired. I threw away our tangled love, and even gave up our child. Until six years later, on a late afternoon. A young, tender-faced child knocked on my door. He kept his face perfectly serious like a little adult and said: “My dad doesn’t want me anymore. Can I stay with you?” 1 I froze for a second, not saying a word. Leo pursed his lips, clearly unhappy. Tilting his pretty little face up, he said very seriously: “My teacher said that parents have a responsibility and obligation to raise their children…” The half-open door cut off the rest of his sentence. I stepped slightly to the side and said calmly: “Come in.” The dim, warm light inside illuminated his slightly widened eyes. His eyes flashed inexplicably. He lifted his chin, gave a little “hmph,” and obediently walked inside. After closing the door, I turned around to see Leo looking around curiously. Seeing me look at him, he immediately averted his gaze, nervously gripping his backpack straps. With a tense little face, he said: “My name is Leo Sterling.” It sounded like a self-introduction, but also a reminder that he was the child Liam and I had together. I know. From the very first glance, I knew exactly who he was. Because his face was practically a carbon copy of Liam’s. Seemingly disappointed by my calm reaction, he turned his head away, unhappy, refusing to look at me anymore. I placed his little pastel yellow backpack in the entryway and led him to wash his hands. “Let’s eat first.” Leo obediently said “Oh.” By the time I brought the food out, he had already climbed onto his chair. I asked him why he suddenly came looking for me. Leo buried his head, poking at the bok choy in his bowl. His lowered head was dark and round. His voice was muffled: “I got in a fight with him. He smashed things and told me to get out, saying I could never come back.” So he was just throwing a tantrum and running away from home. Liam would probably come pick him up very soon. Makes sense. After all, six years ago, the Sterling family fought me tooth and nail for Leo’s custody. It got incredibly ugly. There was no way they wouldn’t want him now. My chopsticks paused. I couldn’t quite name the feeling in my heart at that moment. I hadn’t known Leo was coming tonight, so I only had a simple meal of two dishes and a soup. He was a very picky eater. He didn’t eat onions, and he didn’t eat carrots. In the end, he had nothing left to pick from. Leo stared at the mangled bok choy leaf like it had killed his family, stole a guilty glance at me, and swallowed it down. When we first met today, he carried a little bit of arrogance and spoiled pride. Now, seeing him pick at his food and refuse greens, I figured he must be given whatever he wants and deeply loved at the Sterling house. He probably hadn’t suffered any real grievances. I felt a bit relieved. After doing the dishes, I waited for Liam to send someone to pick him up. I waited until 9:30 PM. Six-year-olds get sleepy early. He dug his pajamas out of his backpack, looked around, and pouted: “There’s only one bedroom.” “Am I squeezing into the same bed as you tonight?” I glanced at the clock on the wall. For whatever reason, the Sterling family still hadn’t sent anyone. I had to compromise. “Yeah, you’re sleeping with me tonight.” I thought Leo would throw a fit. After all, my meager one-bedroom apartment was obviously not as comfortable as the Sterling family’s luxurious mansion. But Leo just pressed his lips together, his eyes flashing. After washing his face, he huffed and puffed as he changed into his pajamas, kicking his little legs as he climbed into bed all by himself. Just like at dinner—even though he looked disgusted, he had silently finished the greens I put in his bowl. He wriggled under the covers, making a little mound. He pulled out a fairy tale book from nowhere, peeking his eyes out to look at me, unable to resist rushing me: “Aren’t you going to read me a bedtime story?” He actually looked pretty happy. 2 After putting Leo to sleep, I pulled up Liam’s number. I hesitated for a long time, but still didn’t make the call. Liam and I had been separated for six years. At first, we thought we could fight fate. Back then, my family suddenly went bankrupt. The Sterling family broke our engagement and secretly arranged for Liam to be engaged to Chloe Snow. For me, he disregarded everything and broke off the engagement with Chloe. He even gave up his status as the heir. He took a brutal beating from Old Mr. Sterling as family punishment and couldn’t get out of bed for half a month. Seeing me cry, he endured the pain, offering a lazy smile as he softly coaxed me. I thought everything would be okay. The bankruptcy would pass, Liam would get better, the future would be bright. But it wasn’t. Liam and I got married in secret. Perhaps because of Liam’s unwavering commitment to me from beginning to end, after I got pregnant, I never once considered not keeping the baby. Until right before I gave birth. Enduring the pain, I called him for a long time, but Liam never answered. A neighbor rushed me to the hospital. When I woke up, I saw a cold, indifferent Liam. I didn’t know how a person could change so drastically overnight. It was as if his eyes held nothing but unfamiliarity and disgust for me. Chloe visited me once. From her mouth, I learned the truth about this world. Due to a timing error by the “System,” when the late-arriving “True Heroine” appeared, the “Male Lead” had already developed feelings for someone else. As the price for correcting this, the Male Lead’s mistaken feelings began to invert. However much he loved me before, he would hate me that much now. Chloe looked at me with pity and sorrow. Before leaving, she asked softly: “Have you thought about what will happen to your child in the future?” I suddenly froze, feeling lost. I didn’t know who to hate anymore. Should I hate Liam? But he couldn’t even control his own emotions. Should I hate fate? But what good is hating? I couldn’t change anything. At that time, my parents got into a car accident on their way to the hospital to see me. They were in a coma and might remain in a vegetative state for the rest of their lives. I was on the verge of a breakdown. My mind kept replaying Chloe’s words. I just felt that this bastard of a world was so, so tiring. I pushed open the window. As I looked down, the baby beside my hospital bed suddenly started wailing loudly. I thought hazily: If I die, what will happen to him? Will this world tolerate his existence? Will Chloe abuse him? Or will he end up like me, abandoned by Liam, silently suffering countless grievances, only to eventually die quietly while everyone expects it? My body started trembling. I walked back to the bed, my hands shaking as they hovered over his neck. I wanted to take him with me. But then he stopped crying. His red, teary eyes stared at me longingly, as if no matter where we went, he just wanted to be with his mother. It wasn’t until a nurse and a bodyguard noticed something was wrong, burst into the room, and shoved me hard. I looked down at my trembling hands. Only then did I abruptly realize the absurd thing I had almost done under Chloe’s suggestion. The news quickly reached the Sterling family. Old Mr. Sterling demanded to see me and initiated a custody battle. I wanted nothing anymore. I discarded the Liam who disgusted me, gave up my custody rights, and cleanly signed the divorce papers. I only took two hundred thousand dollars. Youth doesn’t know the taste of sorrow. The young Miss Davis, who used to casually throw around millions, could now find herself driven to a dead end over a few thousand dollars in hospital bills. From beginning to end, Liam never showed up. He despised me so much he wasn’t even willing to look at me one last time. So, I accepted my fate. I threw away our tangled love, and even gave up our child. I let him go, and I let myself go. I only snapped back to reality when a soft little dumpling burrowed his head into my chest. Leo closed his eyes and grunted, curling up softly in my arms, as if he had finally found a comfortable position, sleeping soundly. He uneasily clutched the hem of my shirt tightly, as if terrified that I would disappear the moment he opened his eyes. I looked at that innocent, tender face and couldn’t help but sigh softly. If he knew his mother had wanted to strangle him right after he was born, would he still have come looking for me? He probably would have run as far away from me as possible. 3 By morning, Liam still hadn’t shown up. I had no idea what he was planning. The Sterling family fought so viciously for custody back then, yet now they were acting like they could just toss him away. I woke Leo up early, called an Uber, and took him to school. The preschool he attended wasn’t in the same city as me, but thankfully it was only an hour’s drive away. Before getting out of the car, he made me promise repeatedly that I would pick him up after school, whining and refusing to let go of my hand. Until he saw a specific car parked in front of the preschool. His eyes lit up. He hurriedly dragged me out of the Uber. As we got close, he deliberately slowed down, pretending to casually block the path of a chubby kid who had just gotten out of his car. As if to make sure the kid saw, Leo swung my hand in front of him. Then, very loudly, in a voice everyone could hear, he asked me: “Mom, you’re going to pick me up after school, right?” That was the first time Leo called me “Mom.” Maybe because I was absent for six whole years, he hadn’t even proactively called me “Mom” when he knocked on my door. The chubby kid stared straight at me, looking skeptical: “If you have a mom, why didn’t she drop you off before?” Leo scoffed, his gaze incredibly disdainful: “My mom is busy with work. Today she specifically took time off just to drop me off.” He emphasized the word “specifically.” Holding my hand, he walked to the main gate of the preschool in front of everyone, as if showing off, making sure everyone saw. Before parting ways, he twisted awkwardly and asked one more time: “…You will come pick me up, right?” When I didn’t answer right away, he glared at me, then panicked and whispered: “You promised me in the car. Adults aren’t allowed to lie!” I crouched down with a sigh of resignation, smoothing down his popped collar and ruffling his hair. His hair was dark and soft, feeling nice to the touch. “Okay, I’ll come pick you up.” He couldn’t help but curl his lips upward, but he tried hard to keep them straight. Acting mature, he tilted his chin up and said reservedly: “Mhm, I’ll remember to wait for you.” I only looked away after his figure completely disappeared from my sight. I found a teacher and asked about Leo’s situation at preschool. The teacher hesitated, finally sighed, and complained with a frown: “I know the Sterling family is powerful, and what I say might not matter.” “But Leo’s Mom, no matter how busy you are, you can’t just completely neglect the child, right?” “Since he enrolled, no one has ever shown up for a parent-teacher conference!” “Now all the kids in the school are saying he doesn’t have a mom. This is really bad for his physical and mental development.” No one came to the parent-teacher conferences? Even if Liam was incredibly busy and disliked this child, couldn’t he even bother having an assistant handle it? I frowned, feeling for the first time that I might have made the wrong decision. …Maybe I shouldn’t have given up custody back then. But at that time, I was penniless, my parents were in comas at the hospital, and I couldn’t even support myself. How could I possibly raise a fragile child? I pulled up Liam’s number, hesitated for a second, and dialed. I decided to have a serious talk with him. If Liam really didn’t want to raise him anymore, I would take him in. Even though I couldn’t provide the excellent conditions of the Sterling family right now, it was still enough to raise a child. Just as the call went through, a ringtone sounded from behind me. Sensing something, my fingertips trembled as I turned around. I saw Liam stepping out of a black Bentley. Six years had passed. He seemed to have changed, yet somehow remained the same. He looked down at the lit screen through half-lidded eyes, his wrist bones sharply defined, his cold, handsome face hidden in the shadows. He unhurriedly raised an eyebrow and suddenly looked up. “You hid from me for so many years.” “Want to talk?” Unlike my miserable circumstances all these years, Liam remained calm and composed. His features were the same as before, but the gaze he directed at me felt inexplicably deep. Even the dappled light filtering through the trees seemed to favor him. I had heard he had already taken over the entire Sterling family empire from Old Mr. Sterling. I had heard the brand he founded swept the globe. I had heard he secretly married years ago and always kept a low profile. Memories spanning over a decade, which I had deliberately ignored, surged back like a breaking dam, sending sharp, fine pain through my chest. It was only at the moment I saw him that I realized: I thought I had let it go. Turns out, I hadn’t. The boy who wove a grass ring for me when we were young, who kicked the person bullying me into the pool. No one could have ever imagined we would end up in such an embarrassing situation. He actually hadn’t changed; he just stopped loving me, that’s all. It’s been a really, really long time, Liam. 4 We walked in silence and found a nearby coffee shop. Before the coffee even arrived, as if trying to hide my nerves, I cut straight to the chase: “Do you still want the child?” For six years, I had fantasized about reuniting with Liam, almost torturing myself with the scenarios. So much so that I was able to feign indifference now. Liam glanced at me, answering without hesitation: “Of course I do.” I pressed my lips together, staring at the street sign through the floor-to-ceiling window. I gave a low “Mhm” and stood up. “Then remember to pick him up after school. If you don’t have time for parent-teacher conferences, you can let me know. I won’t bother you and—” I still couldn’t say Chloe’s name out loud. I couldn’t help digging my nails into my palms. The sharp pain kept me lucid, forcing me to say: “…I won’t disturb your lives.” I checked the time, ready to leave. As we brushed past each other, I heard Liam abruptly ask: “So now, the only thing you want to talk to me about is Leo?” My footsteps faltered. I didn’t quite understand. Everything between us had been settled six years ago. He loved someone else; I took my two hundred thousand and left cleanly. It was that simple. Besides Leo, what else was there to talk about? Liam let out a breath, his dark eyes locked onto me, and spoke again: “Alright then. I don’t want Leo anymore.” He sounded so righteous, as if he wasn’t the one who had just flipped his stance in a split second. I furrowed my brow, unable to resist asking: “What do you mean?” Liam lifted his chin slightly, tapping the seat across from him, signaling me to sit back down. “Exactly what it sounds like.” “You want to raise the kid? Fine. The kid is yours.” “Considering the child’s physical and mental well-being, I will come to your current residence every Friday evening to spend necessary quality time with Leo, and I will drive back to the office on Monday morning.” Seeing him spout this nonsense with a straight face, I felt it was completely absurd. Reaching my limit, I reminded him: “We are already divorced.” “Are we?” Liam let out an ambiguous scoff. “I never signed.” I belatedly realized the meaning of his words. When Old Mr. Sterling told me to sign the divorce agreement, I just assumed Liam was so disgusted by me he didn’t even want to see me one last time, which is why he never appeared. He said he never signed. But then why did he wait six years to find me? I wouldn’t flatter myself by thinking he still had feelings for me. Maybe the original agreement got lost, or maybe there was a loophole that required a supplementary contract. Anything was possible. I pressed my lips together and said very cooperatively: “Then we can draft a new one and sign it.” Liam didn’t even look up: “I’m not signing.” I tried reasoning with him nicely: “If we sign it, we’re totally clear of each other. Isn’t that great?” “No.” “Do you have some kind of concern? I don’t want any shares or money. You can consider me leaving with absolutely nothing.” “No.” His three “no’s” made me both angry and dazed. Perhaps Liam himself didn’t even remember, but he was exactly like this when he was younger. That day was his birthday party. Someone cornered me, looking at me with lecherous, disrespectful eyes, saying whatever garbage came to mind. Liam kicked him right into the pool. It caused a massive scene. The guests were all prominent figures in New York’s high society, and the faces of the family elders were quite ugly. When asked for a reason, Liam refused to explain. To avoid gossip and protect my reputation, Liam never even mentioned me from beginning to end. Because he refused to admit he was wrong, he took a brutal beating with a cane from Old Mr. Sterling. Probably no one would have guessed that the 18th birthday of the man sitting in front of me, now a titan of industry, was spent locked in a solitary confinement room. The door was completely locked from the outside; no one could even bring him medicine. I huddled outside the door, saying very softly and guiltily: “I’m sorry.” Through the door panel, he paused for a moment, making some rustling sounds. It seemed he sat down by the door too. His voice was a bit muffled as he gave a soft “Oh,” and then said: “Not listening.” I buried my forehead in my knees and mumbled: “Actually, you didn’t have to kick him. You could have just let him finish talking. He wouldn’t have dared to actually do anything to me.” “Not waiting.” I didn’t say anything else. Maybe my voice was too muffled and he misunderstood something. After a moment, he said again: “No crying.” He knocked on the door panel, making a light tsk sound: “I did it because I wanted to. It has nothing to do with you. No crying.” I snapped out of my daze, trying my hardest to hide the burning sensation in my eyes. Yet it felt as if I could hear his “no crying” from all those years ago. Liam sat under the light, offering a faint smile. The fine dust caught in the light drifted lazily. His old features had silently sharpened over the years. He looked up and raised an eyebrow at me. As if answering what I had said earlier. “Maya, things between us can never be clear.” 5 I don’t quite remember how it ended. I only remember that I was so angry I didn’t even say goodbye. Because we parted on bad terms, I wasn’t sure if he was just talking nonsense or if he actually intended to follow through. I hesitated for a moment but decided not to call an Uber back. Maybe because the round-trip fare would cost almost what I make in a day; I might as well just take the rest of the day off instead of going back to work. Or maybe the maternal love that had been absent for six years was acting up. I didn’t want to break my promise to Leo. I waited until 4:30 PM, when preschool got out. Most of the children at this preschool came from prominent families. Amidst the coming and going luxury cars, I saw that Bentley stop in front of Leo. So I didn’t step forward. I turned around, slowly walking back the way I came. I suddenly felt that my previous worries were ridiculous. What was I thinking? How could the Sterling family really let the child leave with me? The Bentley quickly drove away, kicking up a thick cloud of dust as it passed. I inexplicably thought of that tender little face. We probably wouldn’t see each other again. I just, as if possessed, turned to take one last look. With the black car gone, the other side of the road was revealed. Leo stood all alone at the preschool gate. His wide, round eyes met my gaze. His eyes lit up, and he was about to sprint toward me, but was stopped by a teacher raising her arm. He scrunched up his little face, looking a bit angry as he said something to the teacher. Afraid he would jaywalk, by the time I snapped out of it, I had already taken several steps toward him. The teacher saw me and finally felt safe letting Leo go. He ran until he was panting, his dark, obsidian-like eyes sparkling. He only slowed down when he got close, deliberately putting on an air of indifference. Squirming but happy, he said: “…You, you really came to pick me up?” A soft little hand tentatively grasped my fingertips. Seeing I didn’t pull away, he pressed the corners of his lips together, stole a glance at me, and squeezed even tighter. I gave a soft “Mhm” and asked him, a bit unsure: “Aren’t you going with him?” At the mention of Liam, Leo’s cheeks puffed up like a propane tank ready to explode: “I don’t want him! And he didn’t come to pick me up!” “He said you work so hard dropping me off and picking me up, and that I’d just annoy you by clinging to you every day. He told me not to disrupt your work.” He looked very opinionated, seemingly very disdainful of Liam, and said very seriously and proudly: “I’m not as stupid as he is!” “I talked to my teacher about transferring schools today! That way, you won’t have to spend so much time dropping me off!” He tilted his little face up, his gaze urging me on, seemingly waiting for me to praise him. I couldn’t help but rub his round little head. Traffic was heavy on the way back. After stopping at the grocery store, the sky was getting dark. I held Leo’s hand as we walked home. He seemed to remember something and casually mumbled: “Oh right, the driver is picking me up after school tomorrow. Dad said I have to go home tomorrow to get all my clothes.” “But I still want to come back here to sleep! You’re not allowed to forget me!” Tomorrow was Friday. I instinctively tightened my grip on the plastic bag holding the pork belly ingredients, paused for a second, and said softly: “Okay.” Children are forgetful. Maybe after a weekend of being coaxed at home, he would forget about me. I treated every meeting as if it were the last. Because only by doing that wouldn’t I feel disappointed during the long waits.

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On a reality show, I was driving my childhood-friend-turned-movie-star past a cemetery. The car stalled four or five times in the span of a mile. I lost my temper, got out of the car, and started screaming at the graves. Miraculously, the car didn’t stall again. My childhood friend quietly reminded me from the passenger seat: “It stalled the first time because you ran out of gas.” The next day, the top three trending topics online were: #TheMovieStarAndHisAngryAssistant #SeenPeopleFramedButNeverGhosts #Ghosts: LeaveUsAloneYouPsycho 1 Liam Vance and I grew up together. He became an A-list movie star, and I became his slacker personal assistant. When he was on set acting, I was sleeping. When he was on variety shows, I was sleeping. Once word got out, being Liam’s assistant became the most coveted job in the industry. A lot of Ivy League grads heard that the A-lister’s assistant just slept all day, so they started competing fiercely, trying to drag me down and take my spot. With so many jealous eyes on me at the agency, I felt a rare sense of impending crisis. Just like when we were kids, I cornered Liam against the wall, stood on my tiptoes, and raised a threatening fist. “Tell me the truth, are you going to replace me?!” Liam raised an eyebrow. He reached out, wrapped his hand around my fist, and pinned my arm above my head, leaning in to trap me between his body and the wall. When our faces were only inches apart, he drawled in a slow, lazy voice: “Who told you I was getting a new assistant?” Liam’s dark eyes stared intensely into mine. His eyelashes were incredibly long. In that split second, my heart skipped a beat. My throat felt dry, and I inexplicably swallowed hard. I feigned composure, turning my head away. “Sooner or later, I’ll show them that I’m irreplaceable!” “Oh?” “Well, aren’t I?” Liam said it like it was an indisputable fact. But thinking about my actual job performance, I blushed in sheer shame. 2 Liam was invited to be a panelist on a workplace reality show. It featured professionals from all walks of life. Unfortunately, the show featured an absolutely perfect executive assistant named Sarah Sterling. She memorized all her CEO’s habits and preferences, organized documents with ruthless efficiency, and never procrastinated. She was the textbook definition of a corporate elite. A celebrity guest teased Liam: “Does watching her make you want to swap assistants?” Liam didn’t even pause to think. “Not considering it. I think my assistant is perfectly fine.” After the episode aired, Liam’s fans flooded his Twitter replies with photos. The first photo: Me drooling on a sofa while asleep on a movie set. The second photo: Liam handing me a coffee, looking at me with a helpless, fond expression, saying, “Wake up, shift’s over.” The third photo: Liam standing up, memorizing a script, while I sat next to him playing games on my phone and grinning like an idiot. The fans went wild: [THIS is your ‘perfectly fine’ assistant? The hierarchy is completely upside down!] [Listen to us, Liam! You’re an A-lister now, it’s time to upgrade your staff.] On the show, Sarah subtly hinted that if Liam wanted to poach her, she wouldn’t mind jumping ship. 3 People immediately smelled the drama. The CEO of Sterling Corporation publicly stated: “Sarah is my younger sister, and she’s a huge fan of Liam Vance. If she really jumps ship to work for him, as her brother, I can only give them my blessing.” Fans started desperately pleading with Liam: [Sarah is a corporate elite AND a CEO’s sister. Be smart, fire the slacker and hire Sarah!] [Exactly! With Sarah as your assistant, your career will hit the stratosphere.] [The little assistant needs to stop leeching off Liam and leave.] The internet was a bloodbath over this trivial issue. For the finale episode, the CEO of Sterling Corp specifically requested to meet Liam. Usually, Liam drove while I sat in the passenger seat eating snacks. But to avoid getting ripped apart online, I aggressively teleported to the driver’s side door. I yanked it open, started the engine, rolled down the window, and yelled at Liam: “Get in.” Liam leaned close to the cameraman. The cameraman, assuming Liam was about to serve some premium handsome B-roll, focused intensely, his hands steady as a rock. In the next second, Liam said: “My little assistant is always this hardworking. Tell me, if I don’t treat her well, where else could I find an assistant this good?” With that, he got in the car. The cameraman froze, looking thoroughly confused. 4 It was getting late, and we were driving past a large, desolate cemetery. The car stalled out four or five times. I finally lost it and slammed the car into park. Liam looked at me in a panic, but couldn’t grab me fast enough. I stormed out of the car and started screaming into the dark: “Alright, alright! Wake up, all of you, and listen to me! “I don’t care if you’re someone’s great-aunt, second cousin, or grandpa! I don’t care if you died last year or got buried today, I want to know what the hell your problem is! “You think just because Liam is nice, you can bully us?! It’s a one-mile stretch of road and you stalled my car five times! Is there no law and order in the afterlife?! “I don’t care who you are, back off right now! I’m starting this car, and if it stalls one more time, I’m digging up your bones to make soup!” When I got back in the car, Liam’s expression was incredibly complicated. I thought he was scared, so I patted his shoulder. “Don’t worry!” “The elders always say when you run into paranormal crap, you just have to cuss them out. You can’t show fear.” I turned the key. The car started perfectly and didn’t stall a single time until we reached our destination. I smirked at Liam. “See? Told you it works.” Right before we got out of the car, Liam looked at me and said quietly, “Actually, the first time it stalled, it was because we were out of gas.” The cameraman sitting in the back seat didn’t dare breathe. And me: “…” Oh, crap. Unsurprisingly, the internet exploded the next day. #TheMovieStarAndHisAngryAssistant #SeenPeopleFramedButNeverGhosts #Ghosts: LeaveUsAloneYouPsycho Netizens: [Oh man, if she can curse out a ghost like that, cursing me out would be a piece of cake.] 5 The incident trended for days. People were so curious that they purposely drove empty cars to graveyards at night to yell at tombs. They used the exact same speech I did. The result? The cops found dozens of people walking in circles around gravestones, looking exhausted with massive dark circles under their eyes. At the break of dawn, the cops stood there in total confusion as people hugged their legs, sobbing: “Officer, help! There are real ghosts!” If one person claims it, it’s a coincidence. If a whole crowd claims it, it’s a pattern. Since no one else successfully replicated my “method,” the internet decided I was a complete fake. [If this graveyard thing is real, I’ll eat literal garbage while doing a handstand!] [It’s obviously a PR stunt. Since when do personal assistants need PR stunts?] [Did you guys watch the show? Sarah is competing for her job. Sarah is amazing, so this useless slacker had to invent a viral stunt to stay relevant. It’s not that hard to understand.] Sarah Sterling posted on X: [I believe all high-level positions should be built on solid professional skills. Cheap gimmicks never last. My professional background is rock solid, so I think Liam Vance should consider my offer. I think we’d make a great team.] The implication was clear: I didn’t deserve to be Liam’s assistant. The CEO of Sterling Corp retweeted his sister, adding: [Anyone with eyes can see how outstanding my sister is. I will always be the ultimate financial backer for my sister’s idol-chasing dreams!] How interesting. I read the posts out loud, using a highly sarcastic tone toward Liam: “Wow, she’s the sister of a corporate CEO, and she’s so professional. If she became your assistant, she could take perfect care of you and bring in massive sponsorships.” I sighed, shaking my head dramatically. “Unlike me, who is just a complete waste of space.” Liam’s lips curved into a faint smile. “Who called you a waste of space? Is the emotional value you provide not valuable? In my eyes, eight hundred Sarahs wouldn’t equal one of you.” I knew Liam was just buttering me up. 6 Thinking back on our childhood, I clicked my tongue. “When the kindergarten teacher assigned arts and crafts, you did mine without a word. “Through all our school years, whenever it was our turn to clean the classroom, I stood to the side playing while you scrubbed the floors. “In college, you attended events to earn extracurricular credits for me. Even now at work, I’m just a salted fish. “Liam, why are you so good to me?” Liam raised an eyebrow, his gentle voice low and deep: “Because someone told me she was going to marry me, so I had to do all her chores.” He looked at me with a lingering, almost resentful gaze. I coughed dryly to cover my embarrassment. Okay, that did happen, but it was just dumb kid stuff. Liam and I had been neighbors since we were in diapers. When we were little, I watched a wedding on TV. I grabbed one of my mom’s silk scarves, threw it over Liam’s head, and declared: “Liam, you are the bride now. You have to marry me!” Little Liam’s usually stoic face turned red. His eyes sparkled, and he held my hand like a little adult. “No, you have to marry me.” I was too lazy to argue, so I threw the scarf over my own head and chirped: “Fine, I’ll marry you. But you have to give me all your snacks and do all the chores I don’t want to do.” Little Liam nodded seriously. “Okay.” It was an absolutely tyrannical contract, but Liam had strictly enforced it to this day. Hearing Liam bring it up, my briefly motivated heart immediately went back into slacker mode. “True. Why should I try hard? As long as I have you, I’m set.” Liam was wearing gold-rimmed glasses, making him look elegant and refined, but the gaze behind the lenses was burning hot. Seemingly very satisfied with my answer, he whispered, “Exactly. You just need to stay by my side.” Liam had always possessed an inexplicable possessiveness over me. I knew that. Growing up, any boy who tried to get close to me inexplicably distanced themselves shortly after. They all had one thing in common: they looked at Liam with pure fear. Other people might be scared of him, but not me. I was socially anxious and hated dealing with people anyway. His hovering suited me perfectly. 7 Liam was famous for his sharp tongue. Many netizens were furious that I was his assistant and demanded he fire me. Liam posted on X: [Are you paying my salary?] The translation: Why do you care? I’ll hire whoever I want. You’re getting way too comfortable trying to manage my personal life. His fans decoded the message and immediately pivoted to stand by his side: [Look, maybe our Liam’s assistant is a bit useless, but she’s cute! She’s easy on the eyes.] [So what if it was a PR stunt? People are bullying her right to her face; is she supposed to just take it? I support the little assistant!] Since I didn’t have any actual professional skills to brag about, the fans scraped the bottom of the barrel and settled on praising my face. Absolutely no one believed that my graveyard stunt wasn’t staged. Because the fans couldn’t find any solid arguments to defend me, they were racking their brains trying to fight off the haters. God knows they hadn’t even fought this hard for Liam before. Maybe it was a “love me, love my dog” situation. But the fans were ultimately losing ground to the haters, simply because there really wasn’t much to defend. The head of Liam’s fan club messaged their group chat: [Girls, my brain is about to explode.] I was secretly lurking in the fan group chat, absolutely terrified to say a word. 8 Furious at the rejection, Sarah Sterling went and became the assistant to Liam’s biggest rival. His rival was an actor named Carter Hayes. He debuted around the same time as Liam. But no matter the project, Liam always eclipsed him. The final nominees for Best Actor last year were Liam and Carter, and Liam took the trophy. So Carter had the industry nickname “Forever Number Two.” Since Carter couldn’t beat Liam in acting, he looked for other ways to win. The moment Liam posted his defense of me, Carter immediately signed Sarah. Sarah was bitter, and the two struck a deal. Carter posted a thinly veiled insult toward Liam: [Thank you to Mr. Vance for allowing me to hire such incredible talent. Mr. Vance might run his team based on ‘feelings,’ but I believe the world needs capable people. If everyone just relied on nepotism…] Carter left the thought unfinished, but it resonated with a lot of hardworking people online. For the first time in his career, Liam was hit with a massive wave of hate. [How did he even win Best Actor? Was that nepotism too?] [In this world, there really is no place for people who actually work hard, huh.] [If the assistant fakes paranormal stunts, the boss is probably a fraud too. A word of advice: don’t play with the occult for clout, you might actually get cursed!] I finally understood what it felt like to be completely unable to defend yourself. Liam’s manager, Brenda, came to see us. She knew about my relationship with Liam and both our family backgrounds, so she wasn’t worried at all. Liam raised an eyebrow, a bit surprised. “People are still offering me scripts in the middle of a PR crisis?” Brenda rolled her eyes at him. “Sorry, it’s not for you. The offer is for Chloe.” I whipped my head around, even more shocked than Liam. “Wait, for me?! Who?” Brenda said, “It’s for that insanely popular paranormal reality show, Maximum Hauntings. The number-one ranked expert on the show specifically asked for Chloe. Word is they’ve run into something incredibly dangerous.” Liam went silent for a moment. He gritted his teeth and asked, “I heard that expert is really handsome and in his early twenties?” Brenda nodded, completely hyped. “Exactly! A hot guy specifically requested our Chloe. She’s so lucky…” Brenda kept praising the guy. Liam’s face grew darker and darker. I could tell he was about to explode.

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Right before handing out the year-end bonuses, my boss pulled me aside and whispered: “Your bonus is still the highest in the department, but keep it quiet. We don’t want to affect team morale.” I believed him, feeling a sense of comfort. The amount wasn’t huge, but at least the boss recognized my hard work. My year of grinding hadn’t been in vain. But that night, I accidentally overheard my boss drunkenly confessing the truth: “Gullible, unconnected employees like Chloe are the easiest to manipulate. “Just feed her a few lies, and she’ll work harder than a mule.” A sudden clarity hit me. For the past three years, my bonus had actually been the lowest. 1 Right before the year-end bonuses were distributed, my boss, Mr. Vance, suddenly called me into his office. After making sure the door was closed tight, he lowered his voice: “Chloe, I need you to mentally prepare yourself for something. “You know the market is tough right now, clients aren’t paying on time, and the company’s cash flow is tight… I’m afraid the year-end bonuses this year will just be a token gesture.” He looked deeply pained as he said this, his eyes even looking a little red. My heart sank with his words. At the beginning of the year, to motivate everyone, the boss promised extra bonuses based on the projects we completed. I worked myself to the bone, exceeding my quota by completing over a dozen projects—literally double the output of anyone else in the department. Even calculating with the lowest bonus percentage, I should have received tens of thousands of dollars. But now… any expectations I had for my bonus vanished completely. Mr. Vance finished sighing, then suddenly gave me a conspiratorial smile: “But as the boss, I see how hard a core employee like you has worked this year. “Don’t worry, just like the past two years, your bonus is still the highest in your department. “But please, keep this an absolute secret. I don’t want to affect team morale.” Hearing this brought me some comfort. Even if it wasn’t a lot of money, the boss was fair. My year of working day and night hadn’t been completely wasted. The industry was suffering, the company couldn’t afford to pay out, and no one could do anything about it. When I first graduated and struggled to find a job, I accidentally stumbled into this company. From a clueless rookie to a competent lead designer, Mr. Vance had indeed given me many opportunities. When benefits were severely slashed, I thought about quitting, but my loyalty to the company kept me here. Seeing him so distressed, I even offered some kind words of comfort: “Mr. Vance, don’t be too sad. We’ll all work harder next year, and we’ll definitely make a lot of money.” Mr. Vance looked slightly awkward for a moment, but quickly put on a touched expression: “Chloe, with employees like you looking out for the big picture, how could Elegance Interiors not succeed and grow?! “Next year, we’ll all roll up our sleeves and work hard! When the company’s cash flow improves, you’ll be the first one I compensate!” I offered a bitter smile and nodded. Just as I was about to leave, Mr. Vance stopped me again. “Actually, there’s an opportunity right in front of us. “Right after the holidays, there’s an urgent, high-priority project. Mr. Price needs his manor renovated. Over a dozen competitors are eyeing this massive opportunity. The contract is worth five million dollars! “Look… since you’re getting the highest bonus, taking on this tough project for the company shouldn’t be a problem, right?” 2 To be honest, the moment I heard “after the holidays,” “urgent,” and “high-priority,” my head started ringing. My family lived out of state. Factoring in travel time, I could only spend four or five days at home for the Lunar New Year. If I had to work overtime on a project, I’d only get one or two days of rest. My holiday would basically be ruined. I was just about to decline when Mr. Vance cut me off: “Chloe, I’ve always favored you when it comes to bonuses! At a critical moment like this, you have to step up for the company! “Mr. Price was very satisfied with the model home design you did for his real estate development last time. That’s the only reason he’s giving our company a chance. “Besides, the timeline is too tight. I really don’t feel comfortable handing this to anyone else!” I let out a long sigh. With him putting it like that, I had no choice but to bite the bullet and agree. The design market is so distorted these days. Deadlines are always immediately after holidays. And these are projects where no contract has been signed, yet the boss still bends over backwards, demanding multiple design proposals for the client to choose from. Designers have long been numb to it. Seeing me nod, Mr. Vance beamed: “Great! Then on the eighth day of the New Year, the day we get back to work, you bring five different design proposals. I’ll go with you to present them to Mr. Price, and we’ll fight to win this massive project! “Don’t worry, if we land this, I’ll personally give you a hundred-thousand-dollar bonus at the end of the year!” I forced a smile, not daring to hold out much hope for the bonus. In this economy, just getting my regular salary on time was enough to satisfy me. Before I closed the door to leave, he reminded me one last time. “Remember, absolutely keep the bonus a secret!” 3 With complicated feelings, I walked back to my desk in silence. Colleagues around me were chatting in small groups about the year-end bonuses, but I had zero interest in joining them. Not long after I spaced out at my desk, the continuous sound of text message notifications echoed across the entire office floor. “Holy shit, the bonuses are deposited!” Someone shouted. Startled, I remembered my boss’s warning. I discreetly lowered my phone under my desk and carefully opened the message. With just one glance, the glaring number “$2,000” burned into my retinas. My vision went dark. This was completely absurd! I counted the zeros several times to confirm the amount. The sliver of hope I had been holding onto completely died. So the boss’s “token gesture” really was just two thousand dollars! Last year, I got at least eight thousand. This year, it was only a quarter of that. What was most laughable was that my meager amount was actually the highest in the department? At that moment, I even worried that my colleagues might storm the boss’s office in protest. But when I scanned the room… I found that the other colleagues in the department were surprisingly calm, packing up to leave for the day. “Sigh, less and less every year. Be content; it’s better than getting nothing.” “Yeah, the market is bad. We all have to weather the storm together.” “Are you still not satisfied? The economy out there is trash. It’s a blessing to get paid at all. Go ask around, how many companies just handed out a bag of rice for the holidays?” 4 That last comment came from my colleague, Mia. She was the boss’s niece, an art major who had just graduated and joined our design department six months ago. The other colleagues usually sucked up to her, and no one cared when she made passive-aggressive comments. A few who were close to her even went over to chat. “Now that we’ve got our bonuses, I’m going all out this weekend. That new trendy seafood buffet is really good, only $600 a person. Who wants to go?” “I’m finally going to bite the bullet and buy that mink coat I’ve been eyeing for my New Year’s outfit.” “Mia, what are you buying with your bonus?” Mia lifted her chin, adjusted her Gucci bag, and replied lazily: “Whether it’s a little or a lot, it’s the company’s gesture. Anyway, I’m going to the Maldives for a vacation… If it’s not enough, I’ll just ask my family to chip in.” Everyone praised her wealthy family background and marveled that a rich heiress would actually deign to work. Hearing their conversation, I silently clicked my tongue. With the tiny amount we received, it wouldn’t even cover the cost of a decent coat at the mall… Girls from big cities with wealthy families really know how to spend money. For some reason, Mia, surrounded by her sycophants, suddenly looked at me. “Chloe, you got your bonus, why aren’t you happy? “I just saw you come out of the boss’s office. What secret were you discussing with the door closed, afraid we’d hear?” As soon as Mia spoke, the others chimed in: “Yeah, Chloe works so hard, the boss must have given you a huge bonus, right?” “Chloe became a lead designer at such a young age. She’s the backbone of the company. It’s perfectly normal if she got more than us.” “Exactly. Chloe is a famous workaholic. Our department’s ‘A’ rating this year was practically carried by her alone. So many big clients requested her by name.” Faced with their teasing, I had to reply, just offering a smile: “It wasn’t just my effort; it was everyone’s hard work. “Everyone knows how hard it is to collect payments right now. My bonus is probably the same as everyone else’s.” Truthfully, given the base amount was so low, I genuinely thought everyone got roughly the same. I didn’t know what the boss was thinking, worrying that I wouldn’t keep it a secret. To be frank, I’d be too embarrassed to even say the amount out loud. While we were talking, I wasn’t paying attention, and Mia had quietly slipped behind me. Before I could react, she suddenly snatched my phone right out of my hand: “Chloe, your bonus is definitely bigger than ours, right? Let me see how much it is!” 5 The others also gathered around curiously, all wanting a look at my phone. I reacted immediately, trying to grab my phone back. But I was blocked by the crowd and couldn’t reach it. Mia scrolled through my phone for a moment, then handed it back to me, looking disappointed. “Tch, you actually deleted the text notification. You’re way too cautious, Chloe. How boring.” I was so angry I almost hit her. I snatched my phone back and glared at her coldly: “Is snatching someone else’s phone fun? Don’t go too far.” Seeing I was angry, Mia softened her tone and reached out to grab my arm. “Okay, okay, Chloe, I’m sorry. It was just a joke, you’re not actually going to hold a grudge, are you?” The others also tried to smooth things over. I wasn’t in the mood to argue. I gave a perfunctory response, grabbed my bag, and stormed out. The boss had arranged a company dinner tonight at a restaurant owned by one of his relatives. I couldn’t muster any enthusiasm all night; my mind was entirely focused on that pathetic bonus. Perhaps noticing my sour expression, when Mr. Vance came to toast our table, he specifically patted my shoulder: “Sigh, it’s been tough for you all this year. “Even though it’s not a lot of money, your old pal Vance really tried his best. Suppliers were literally at my door demanding payment, and I had to grit my teeth and hold off paying them just for you.” My colleagues raised their glasses and offered polite pleasantries; I didn’t say much. As the dinner drew to a close, I left with the main group. Mr. Vance, however, hadn’t had enough. Acting like a typical drunk, he pulled a few of his closest cronies back into the room to keep drinking. When I got outside, I realized I had forgotten my scarf and went back to the restaurant to get it. Just as I reached the door of the large private room, I heard a piercing, girlish laugh coming from inside. “Uncle, why is my bonus only a hundred thousand dollars? You’re too cheap. I heard the company just collected two million dollars yesterday.” 6 Mia’s words froze me in my tracks. Before I could even process it, the clearly intoxicated voice of Mr. Vance drifted out. “Mia, you’re still not satisfied? You already got the most out of everyone in the design department. “Just look at… those employees with more seniority than you, they only got ten or twenty thousand. “And that Chloe… Look at how many projects she completed this year… How much did she get? You know perfectly well.” Mia laughed happily: “You’re terrible, Uncle. She is a lead designer, after all, and you dismissed her with a measly two thousand dollars… “She got the lowest amount in the entire company, aren’t you afraid she’ll find out and quit?” Mr. Vance scoffed: “This is what you don’t understand. This is called… the art of management. You give people the treatment they deserve. “Gullible, unconnected employees like Chloe are the easiest to manipulate. “Just feed her a few lies, and she’ll work harder than a mule.” Hearing this, my mind went almost entirely blank. “Don’t worry, she won’t quit, and she can’t quit, hahaha.” The laughter from the few people inside grew louder. Standing outside the door, I was so angry I felt like I was plunged into an ice bath, trembling uncontrollably. So all these years, the boss had been lying to me. I was the clown who always got the lowest bonus. 7 I had been with the company for five years. The first two years, I was a rookie, so getting paid less made sense. From the third year on, I was leading projects on my own and helped the company survive a major crisis. Without any false modesty, I contributed the most to the entire design department. But in the end, my bonus was the lowest! And I foolishly believed the boss appreciated me, burying myself in work and giving my all. Those colleagues who were always late, leaving early, and slacking off got more than me; The seasoned veterans who shirked responsibility and threw others under the bus got more than me; Even the new hire who spent her days reading novels and watching dramas at work, and had only been here for six months, got more than me! I wanted to storm in right then and there and demand an explanation from Mr. Vance. What gave the company the right to treat me this way? Do honest, hard-working people deserve to be bullied? But a second before I pushed the door open, a thought struck me. Knowing him, even if we had a falling out, he definitely wouldn’t admit it, and even if he did, he absolutely wouldn’t compensate me. I wanted to make sure he faced severe retribution! With a plan in mind, I quietly left the restaurant without alerting anyone. Early the next morning, just as I boarded the high-speed train to go home, I received a call from Mr. Vance. “Chloe, I had Mia send you the villa details and design requirements for Mr. Price’s project. Make sure you check them as soon as you get home. “Don’t forget, the deadline for the designs is the eighth day of the New Year. “If we don’t land this contract, the company will probably face an even tougher year next year. You absolutely cannot betray my trust!” Without a moment’s hesitation, I cheerfully agreed: “Don’t worry, Mr. Vance. I will definitely have five design proposals ready by the eighth. I guarantee we’ll secure Mr. Price.” Mr. Vance laughed happily on the other end of the line. I was very happy, too. Smart boss, just wait for this ‘gullible employee’ to give you a massive surprise on the eighth. 8 I went home for the holidays completely broke. My parents didn’t say anything and were still incredibly happy to see me. They were honest, hardworking people all their lives, only worrying that I was too exhausted working out of state. They often advised me to listen to my leaders at work and perform well. Every time they said this, I agreed out loud, but my hatred for Mr. Vance only grew deeper. Fortunately, my plan was progressing step by step. Right after New Year’s Eve, early on New Year’s Day, Mr. Vance sent me a message. Reminding me not to forget the overtime project. I replied instantly, telling him I had already started drafting the proposals and was overflowing with inspiration. He was very satisfied and replied with a thumbs-up emoji. On the second, third… for several days in a row, he messaged me daily to check on my progress, like clocking in. Every time, I was incredibly cooperative, telling him to put his mind at ease and just enjoy his holiday. Mr. Vance had no suspicions. After all, he knew me too well after all these years. As long as I promised to take on a job, I would never drop the ball. I would finish it even if I were in the hospital hooked up to an IV. But I guess this project was just too important. On the fifth day, he actually called me via video chat to confirm my progress. I complained, sounding a bit wronged: “Mr. Vance, why don’t you trust me? I told you I’m working overtime drafting the proposals. Please, just relax.” Mr. Vance laughed awkwardly: “Of course I trust your work. I just wanted to see how the progress is going. “You should have three or four of the five proposals done by now, right? Let me take a quick look, and I can give you some advice.” I sneered internally and pointed the camera directly at my computer screen. I gave him a quick, blurry glance. The screen was indeed filled with stacks of folders and design blueprints. Before he could see clearly, I turned the camera away. Mr. Vance beamed brilliantly: “See? I told you I have complete faith in your skills. “So many designs in just a few days! I’ll be waiting for your masterpiece on the eighth. Elegance Interiors is going to shine in front of Mr. Price again!” “Absolutely, absolutely,” I said with a smile and hung up. The proposals were indeed being worked on, but I created two versions.

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When John Vaughn went bankrupt, I ran off to America with a wealthy man. When we met again, he was a titan in the business world, with a beautiful fiancée by his side. At a party, everyone heard about my past deeds and egged each other on to bid for a night with me. John, with an indifferent expression, said in a cold voice: “Gentlemen, aren’t you worried about germs? This woman’s womb probably holds the ashes of countless bastards.” As his words fell, the room erupted in laughter. Rich heirs splashed their icy drinks on me. I instinctively shielded my belly. He didn’t know that I left him that year because I had uterine cancer. 1 Seeing me shield my belly, John’s brows instinctively furrowed, and a complex emotion flickered in his eyes. But it was only for an instant, quickly returning to normal. I sat on the floor, disheveled, as everyone sneered: “She is carrying a bastard!” “I saw Ms. Winslow at the gynecology clinic last month!” “My friends in America also said Ms. Winslow frequently visited obstetrics and gynecology. If you gentlemen aren’t afraid of germs, feel free to continue bidding. I, Mr. Preston, am out!” “Turns out she’s that dirty! I wouldn’t take her even if she was free.” They cast disdainful glances at me. I looked at the man sitting in the center, silent, and a bitter ache rose in my heart. “I have a great idea! Who wants to see a pregnant woman strip dance?” From the booth, someone first suggested it, and everyone cheered. One of John’s friends spoke up: “Ms. Winslow, please? If you don’t dance today, I’m afraid you won’t be leaving this private room.” He was John’s best friend, and he always resented what I had done. The young gentlemen, seeing him speak, egged me on, and some even came to tear at my clothes. Just as a patch of pale flesh on my chest was about to be exposed, John’s cold, deep voice came from above: “Enough!” John’s tone carried a hint of anger, and those men immediately let go of me. “Get her out!” The club manager immediately offered John a placating smile, then dragged me out. After chemotherapy, my once thick long hair had become sparse. Being dragged like that hurt, and I couldn’t help but cry out in pain. John’s fingertips, gripping his wine glass, turned white, but he closed his eyes, refusing to look at me. As I cleaned the wine stains in the restroom, footsteps sounded behind me. Turning around, I saw a bright and charming woman with John. I heard she was the one who helped John rise from the ashes, becoming a formidable force in the business world. “Ms. Winslow, what a coincidence. It seems our John and Ms. Winslow truly have a destined connection. He just said he needed to come to the restroom to fix his tie, and here we run into you.” John’s expression remained unchanged, but he affectionately stroked the back of the woman’s hand, saying softly: “Thank you, my fiancée.” He deliberately emphasized those three words. The woman giggled as she straightened his tie. Just then, a sharp pain shot through my lower abdomen, and I instinctively braced myself against the wall. His right fist clenched, veins bulging, but he deliberately looked away as if trying to restrain something. After a long moment, he looked back at me, a mocking smirk playing on his lips: “Elara Vaughn, when you left me for money, did you ever imagine a day like this?” I looked up, meeting his eyes, my thoughts swirling. John and I spent five years building everything from scratch. Those five years were tough, but supporting each other, we were also very happy. The change happened three years ago. John suddenly went bankrupt, and his mother was diagnosed with lung disease, needing a lung transplant. We borrowed from everyone we knew, tried every possible method, and barely managed to scrape together the medical fees. But misfortunes never come alone. Around the same time, I was diagnosed with uterine cancer. Treatment would be another huge expense. At that moment, John was overwhelmed with his mother’s situation. Unwilling to burden him further, I didn’t tell him. I knew that between his mother and me, only one could be saved. His mother was incredibly kind to me, watching us grow together every step of the way. She would definitely choose to sacrifice herself to save me. And no matter who we saved, John would spend the rest of his life in regret. At that time, an American tycoon took an interest in me, promising that if I went with him, he would take me back to America for the best treatment. I agreed without a second thought. But things didn’t go as smoothly as planned. My uterine cancer, despite three years of treatment, had worsened. Now, I only had a few months left. The doctor said that with aggressive treatment, I could extend my life by two more years. I hesitated. I knew deeply that if I agreed, I might never see John again in this lifetime. Either way, I was going to die. Compared to death, I feared regret more. So, I gave up the last treatment and hurriedly returned to the country. But I never expected he would already have someone new by his side. 2 “I did.” Of course, I had thought about it. Every time I underwent chemotherapy, I imagined him returning to his peak. John scoffed and asked me: “Do you regret it then?” I shook my head. John’s expression instantly turned incredibly dark. “Do you love money that much?” A metallic taste filled my throat, but I forced myself to say: “Yes, money solves a lot of problems, doesn’t it?” I tilted my head up and saw a red mark on his neck, feeling a little disoriented. There, once etched with my initials, it had now been completely removed by laser, leaving a deep scar. The woman beside him, after straightening his tie, provocatively kissed his neck. I suddenly felt that I shouldn’t have come back. He put his arm around the woman’s waist, looking down at me from above, his gaze shifting to my lower abdomen. “Whose child is it? The American’s?” His tone suddenly deepened, suppressing a surge of anger. I said faintly: “That’s none of your business.” However, no sooner had the words left my mouth than a wave of discomfort washed over me. I pushed him away and rushed to the sink, vomiting. His face tightened, a flicker of worry in his eyes, as he moved to help me. But the woman beside him spoke up: “Ms. Winslow, you don’t need to worry, these are all normal reactions during pregnancy.” That one sentence seemed to remind John that the child in my belly was someone else’s. He immediately froze, and his gaze towards me grew even colder. The woman walked forward with concern, stroking my back, then said as if casually: “Ms. Winslow, where’s your husband? He lets you work at a club while you’re pregnant…” The atmosphere instantly fell silent. The woman continued: “I really envy you. Unlike John, he won’t let me do anything after we got together, saying he cares about me.” John dotingly ruffled her nose, his tone playfully: “You, you, you talk as if I’ve mistreated you.” The woman pouted playfully: “You won’t let me do this, won’t let me do that! What I’m saying is just the truth!” The two chuckled and walked away, leaving me disheveled in the same spot. I suddenly remembered that during those five years, John treated me the same way. He always took on all the chores and work by himself because he cared for me, sometimes staying up until two or three in the morning at his computer, coding and checking ledgers. John hasn’t changed at all. He’s still so good at loving, just not loving me. 3 That evening, the manager told me that a lady had taken a liking to me and wanted to hire me as her assistant. I probably guessed who it was, so when I saw John, I wasn’t surprised. “Who let you in?” One second John was gently pinching Maya Sterling’s cheek with a smile, the next, his gaze towards me turned utterly cold. I lowered my head, adopting a submissive posture: “Ms. Sterling asked me to come.” John seemed surprised. “Maya?” He looked at Maya Sterling, who gave a bright smile and wrapped her arms around John’s arm, coquettishly: “Oh, John, look at you, you’ve scared Ms. Winslow! Yes, I asked her to come. I saw Ms. Winslow is pregnant, and working at the club long-term isn’t a solution. I just happen to need an assistant. So…” John’s expression immediately softened at her words: “My little angel is always so kind, even to a woman like this.” Maya Sterling suddenly seemed to remember something, her face changing color as she apologized to John: “I’m sorry, John. I was thoughtless. After all, she hurt you before, and I brought her along…” John stroked her head with a hint of helplessness: “You don’t need to apologize to me. The past is the past. If it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t have met you. In fact, I should thank her.” John embraced her as if she were a precious treasure. Maya Sterling’s delicate nails intimately traced his arm, displaying a triumphant smile as if asserting dominance, her mockery undisguised. I watched the dazzling scene, silently retreating from the room. Hearing the door close, John’s body stiffened, and he suddenly let go of Maya Sterling. “John, what’s wrong?” “Nothing.” “Aren’t you going to change your shoes? Call Elara Vaughn in.” Maya Sterling looked surprised: “Isn’t that a bit much?” John’s cold brows arched sharply: “What’s wrong with it? It’s her job.” I was called in to help Maya Sterling change her clothes and shoes. John waited outside the door. As he brushed past me, he gave me a complex glance. I pretended not to see it and walked straight into the room. As soon as John left, Maya Sterling mercilessly stepped on the back of my hand, saying viciously: “How dare these hands ever touch him!” Her ten-centimeter high heel dug a deep indentation into the back of my hand, and blood began to flow. Just as I was about to cry out in pain, she clapped a hand over my mouth and delivered a heavy kick to my lower abdomen. I fell to the floor. Outside the door, John heard the commotion and asked anxiously: “Maya! What happened in there?” Maya Sterling pulled out an X-Acto knife, slashed fiercely at her arm, and cried out in pain. John burst through the door with almost no hesitation, but his eyes instinctively darted towards me. When he saw the blood pooling on the floor, a flicker of panic crossed his eyes. He was about to reach out to help me up when Maya Sterling burst into tears: “Ms. Winslow, we have no quarrel, why are you doing this to me?” John’s body stiffened. He glanced at the X-Acto knife by my hand, his eyes filled with disappointment. He then picked up Maya Sterling in his arms, saying nervously: “Call a doctor immediately!” Without John’s permission, no doctor dared to treat my wounds. I endured the searing pain and said: “John… help me…” At that address, he visibly froze, his pupils suddenly widening, but quickly returning to calm. “You have no right to call me John.” “And no right to ask for help.” I tugged at his cold coat sleeve, weakly saying: “John… believe me, I didn’t hurt her…” His brow furrowed slightly, and he forcefully shook off my hand. “I saw it with my own eyes! And you still try to argue! You’re as disgusting as you were three years ago!” Due to the sudden movement, my wound was pulled, and the bleeding worsened. Coupled with the sharp pain in my lower abdomen, tears flowed uncontrollably. He paused, but then seeing me clutching my belly, he suddenly became clear-headed. “Ms. Winslow should be careful. If you keep acting like this, the bastard in your belly might not make it.” With that, he left, carrying Maya Sterling.

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As the most talked-about socialite in Beverly Hills, on the eve of my wedding, I announced its cancellation, switched off my phone, and vanished into the Los Angeles night. Back in Los Angeles, I was pinned against a hotel door, kissed until I couldn’t breathe. Alex Holt’s eyes were bloodshot, a vein throbbing in his temple: “Aurora West, who gave you the guts?!” Jackson Mercer, his arm around my waist, chuckled softly, “I did. What about it?” 1 The club’s private room buzzed with noise. The grating music, acrid cigarette smoke mingled with strong perfume, made me feel completely out of place, like a fish out of water. I excused myself to the restroom. When I returned, I heard a man’s voice, laced with amusement, say, “Emily’s figure is absolutely divine.” Alex was on the dance floor, his arm wrapped around Emily Carter’s slender waist, their bodies entwined, inseparable as they moved to the beat. Someone nearby chimed in, “Any woman by Holt’s side is a goddess, aren’t they?” As the dance ended, Alex pulled Emily down beside him, a defiant smirk playing on his lips. “Tsk, I’m saying goodbye to bachelorhood tomorrow. No more days of wild freedom after this, huh?” Someone lit a cigarette for Alex. “What’s there to worry about, Holt? A good girl like Aurora will do whatever you say, won’t she?” Alex took a deep drag, nodding indifferently. “True.” “But Aurora, that woman, she’s utterly boring, like a cold stone. Always so prim and proper.” Someone joked, “How boring? Holt, spill the details?” Alex lifted his chin slightly, a hint of mockery in his voice. “Want to know? Why don’t you try it yourself?” The moment I pushed open the door, the chatter in the room ceased abruptly. The person who had been speaking tried to backtrack, “Mrs. Holt, that was just… a joke…” I stood rooted to the spot, my gaze fixed on Alex. Alex casually flicked his cigarette ash, his eyes calmly meeting mine. “Heard it all?” My hand, gripping the doorknob, tightened then loosened, over and over. It wasn’t until the manicure I’d gotten for the wedding bit into the skin of my palm, sending a sharp pang of pain deep into my brain, that I spoke softly, “Alex, if you don’t want to get married… you could just say so.” Our engagement had been arranged by our families long ago. Since childhood, people had whispered in my ear, “Aurora, wouldn’t you like to marry Alex when you grow up?” Back then, I would shyly lower my head. Later, it felt natural to fall in love with Alex; I’d liked him for many years. Little Alex used to be kind to me, but I don’t know when it started, his aversion to me became blatant, written all over his face. Alex scoffed, “Just say so?” “Then I’m telling you now, I don’t want to marry you. You go tell our families to cancel the wedding.” When he uttered those words without hesitation, an unprecedented weariness washed over me. A wave of sorrow surged within me, leaving me speechless… After a long silence. I slowly released the doorknob, nodding gently, refraining from an argument. “I understand.” I picked up my coat and bag, turning to leave. At the doorway of the private room, I paused, slightly turning to glance at Alex and Emily Carter in his arms. “Then as you wish. I’ll explain everything to our families.” “You two are a perfect match. I wish you both happiness.” Someone reached out to stop me, “Mrs. Holt, please calm down. Holt was just kidding with us…” “Yes, Mrs. Holt, tomorrow is your and Holt’s big day, don’t get upset.” Alex’s face darkened, he extinguished his cigarette, his jaw tight. “Let her go! I’d like to see how long she can keep up this attitude!” The person trying to stop me glanced at Alex’s face and reluctantly withdrew their hand. I curved my lips slightly, a bitter smile, and strode out. He spoke that way because it wasn’t the first time. But every previous time, within a few days, I would swallow my pride, buying Alex a gift. He wouldn’t be too outrageous, accepting the gift and letting the matter drop. As for our parents, they never bothered with our minor spats, as long as appearances were maintained. Perhaps everyone who knew us thought Aurora West would never truly give up on Alex Holt. After leaving the club, one of my close friends called, “Aurora, come back quickly, Alex took Emily to a hotel…” I sat in the car, watching the city lights stream past, and softly said, “Let him be.” With that, I hung up. For over twenty years, I had always been Aurora West, the proud eldest daughter of the West family, a renowned socialite in Los Angeles, never doing anything out of line. Alex had his fair share of scandals, and I always handled them with grace and discretion. Everyone said, Aurora West was not simple. But now, I suddenly wanted to let loose, just this once. At this moment, I just wanted to be myself, without a care in the world. After sending messages to both families, I posted an update on social media—【Wedding cancelled tomorrow, my apologies】—then switched off my phone. Returning to the home Alex and I were to share, I only took my identification and a change of clothes before leaving. At midnight, an hour after canceling the wedding, I sat in the airport waiting lounge. My childhood friend, Lily Mitchell, had settled in San Diego after getting married, and we hadn’t seen each other in ages. Plus, San Diego’s coastal scenery was nationally famous, and I had long wanted to visit. This time, I wanted to try and break free. The next morning, Lily drove me straight to her private ski resort. “Aurora, didn’t you always want to learn to ski? The slopes are huge here, you can really enjoy yourself!” “I’m telling you, skiing is truly exhilarating!” We geared up and walked out of the lounge, spotting two people approaching. Lily winked at me playfully, “Aurora, Alex, that playboy, he’s not good enough for you in any way. I’ve got a prime catch to recommend.” Jackson Mercer walked alongside Lily’s husband, his gaze falling on my face. Even from a distance, I felt the intensity of his stare. Lily whispered in my ear, “Jackson is really great, hundreds of times better than Alex. You’ve got to seize the opportunity!” In the short moment I was distracted, Jackson was already standing before me. Lily’s husband pulled her into his arms, “Wearing so little again? Didn’t you learn your lesson last time, huh?” Lily stuck out her tongue, then nudged me towards Jackson. “Jackson, Aurora hasn’t learned to ski yet, would you teach her?” Jackson’s eyes remained fixed on my face, his undisguised gaze making my cheeks flush. Then, I heard his voice, deep as a cello, “Mm, alright.” Even if I was slow to catch on, I understood their intention. I looked up and smiled politely at Jackson. Before Lily turned to leave, she hooked her arm through mine and whispered, “Aurora, I’m serious, I always thought it would be a shame if you married Alex.” “I fully support you running away from the wedding this time!” “Honey, trust my judgment! Let that scumbag Alex regret it.” The ski resort was high altitude, the temperature very low, but my face remained flushed. Jackson’s features were exquisitely carved, profound yet not harsh. Even dressed in a simple black ski suit, he exuded an extraordinary air. Lily, once pulled away by her husband, didn’t reappear. For the entire day, it was just Jackson and I on the private slopes. He stood behind me, our bodies pressed close. “Bend your knees, a little lower, maintain maximum stability.” “Look up, eyes straight ahead…” “Hands open, hold gently, loosen your grip, don’t hold too tight.” Jackson’s warm breath feathered my ear. “Open your legs a bit wider…” Even though Jackson was diligently teaching me to ski, a strangely romantic thought suddenly bloomed in my mind. Aurora West, what are you thinking?! I silently scolded myself, but lost my balance for a moment, and tumbled abruptly towards the ground. Jackson caught me swiftly, pulling me into his embrace. “Are you alright?” Meeting his anxious gaze, my heart suddenly skipped a beat… Jackson was truly handsome, with deep-set eyes. Perhaps the atmosphere was too intimate, or I was simply swept away. Or perhaps, I genuinely wanted to follow my heart, just this once. I lifted my head, clutching Jackson’s collar, and leaned in… It was meant to be a fleeting kiss, but Jackson’s eyes suddenly darkened. Before I could react, I was scooped up into his arms… 2 Inside the suite. Jackson pressed me against the door, one hand cradling my head, the other around my waist, deepening the kiss… His breath was hot, powerful, making my heart tremble. I felt unsteady, my hands instinctively gripping his shoulders for support. This movement only fueled Jackson further; he lifted me straight into his arms… At the peak of our passion, Jackson suddenly pulled back. I could feel his heavy breathing, but he was restraining himself, looking down at me intently. “Aurora West, have you thought this through?” “You must have heard about our Mercer family rules.” The Mercer family in San Diego, a top-tier dynasty. No breakups, no divorces. Once you commit, it’s for life. As if it were an unconscious illusion, deep, tender affection flickered in Jackson’s eyes, like a burning flame. “Jackson…” I gripped his shirt tightly, calling his name. Jackson gazed at me blankly for a long moment, then a faint smile spread across his lips. I stared at his smile, utterly lost in it. The next moment, the hem of my clothes was lifted, and Jackson lowered his head to kiss me again. His fingertips were cool, making my heart flutter with an exquisite ache… I was dizzy from his kisses, my mind hazy. I didn’t know when the snow started falling outside the window, as Jackson firmly intertwined our fingers. Our heartbeats were like notes, falling and rising in unison. In the end, I didn’t even know when I drifted off to sleep. And so, I missed Jackson’s whispered words, “I’ve waited all these years, and finally, my wish has come true. It wasn’t in vain.” The snow in San Diego fell for an entire half-month. The West family had already rushed to San Diego, determined to drag me back for the wedding. But I was living in Jackson’s mountain estate, and no one could find me. The people from Los Angeles called me countless times, but I had blocked all their numbers. At three in the morning, a text message popped up on my phone: “Mrs. Holt, where are you in San Diego? Mr. Holt has been looking for you this whole time.” Jackson glanced at me, sleeping soundly, and without hesitation, deleted the message, then pulled me closer. At the Holt family estate in Los Angeles. Alex Holt sat on the sofa, his eyes fixed on the phone on the coffee table. Again and again, my calls never went through. No matter whose phone he used, the only thing that came through was a mechanical voice, “The number you have dialed is currently busy…” After a long while, Alex suddenly looked up, grabbed the phone, and hurled it away. The phone struck the television, shattering the screen, and the phone itself broke into several pieces. Michael and Tom, standing nearby, exchanged glances, then carefully spoke, “Holt, Mrs. Holt is just throwing a tantrum.” “She’ll get over it. Don’t all women have their little moods?” Tom nodded in agreement, “That’s right, Holt. Women are like that, just need a little coaxing.” Alex, however, sneered, “Coax her? What is Aurora West, that I should have to coax her?” “If she wants to come back, fine. If not, she can die out there.” With that, Alex turned and stormed upstairs. Back in his bedroom, looking at the things he had acquired for Aurora, his anger intensified. Alex smashed everything in the room. Looking at the utter chaos, Alex still felt a knot of anger in his chest… That woman, Aurora, wouldn’t take the easy way out. She shouldn’t blame him for making things impossible. He’d wait for her to come back and beg him!

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There’s a trend circulating on TikTok right now about “Radical Claiming.” The gist is simple: if you want something, you don’t work for it, you don’t wait for it—you just claim it. You simply become the person who already has it. It sounded insane. It sounded perfect. So, fueled by a dangerous amount of tequila and the kind of delusion that only strikes after midnight, I stormed into the sprawling estate of my boss, Declan Graves. “Honey, I’m home!” I announced, my voice echoing off the marble foyer. In the living room, Declan’s hand froze mid-air, a file folder hovering over the coffee table. The silence was heavy, thick enough to choke on. It felt eerie. A few agonizing seconds ticked by. Then, slowly, he lifted his eyes. There was no shock. No confusion. He simply looked at me, then extended a hand and patted the empty cushion beside him on the leather sofa. “Mhm. Come here.” 1 There was no outrage. He didn’t call me a psycho. He didn’t summon security to drag my intoxicated carcass out to the curb. His tone was flat, practiced, and laced with something that sounded suspiciously like… amusement? It was as if I really was his wife, returning home late from a girls’ night out. Was the man possessed? Or was he playing some twisted 4D chess with me? I froze in the doorway, my brain turning into a slush pile of static. Truth be told, I had regretted this the moment I stepped onto the tree-lined driveway of his exclusive gated community. Watching TikToks in your pajamas is one thing; breaking and entering your CEO’s mansion is a felony—or at least a career-ending move. Was I going to have a job tomorrow? Was I going to have a life tomorrow? The closer I had gotten to Declan’s fortress, the louder the drums of retreat beat in my chest. But alcohol is a hell of a distinct courage, and I was drowning in it. When I first saw that video, I immediately forwarded it to my best friend, Tracy. “Worried about not getting into that gallery show?” I’d texted. “Just curate your own show. Be the artist. Why suffer through the process?” “Tracy! This ‘Radical Claiming’ thing is genius! Look at this! Why are you still struggling with sketches? Just act like the famous artist you are!” On the FaceTime call, Tracy was furiously sketching, rolling her eyes so hard I thought they’d get stuck. “Harper, are you high? If you believe this trash, why are you still pining from the shadows? Just go marry Declan. Call him ‘Husband’ and be done with it.” She continued, ruthless. “You’ve been in love with him for nine years. High school, college, and now you follow him to his company, yet you don’t even have the guts to say ‘good morning’ in the elevator? You are the definition of a coward.” “Don’t talk to me about Radical Claiming. You’re radically pathetic!” Tracy’s verbal assault triggered something deep in my rebellious, tequila-soaked soul. I slammed my hand on my dining table. “Who are you calling a coward?” I roared at my phone. “I’ll go call him ‘Husband’ right now! Watch me!” Tracy thought I was bluffing. Until she saw me change into a dress, hail an Uber, and actually leave my apartment. Instead of stopping me, she laughed maniacally. “Go get ’em, Harper! If you’re gonna crash and burn, make it spectacular! Don’t come back until you’ve embarrassed yourself thoroughly!” The Uber dropped me off at Kingswood Estate. I brazenly lied to the security guard at the gate. “Hey, I’m here to see Mr. Graves. I’m his assistant, dropped off files earlier, remember?” The guard called Declan. And miraculously, the gate opened. Walking up that long driveway lined with manicured topiaries, the cold wind sobered me up just enough to realize the magnitude of my idiocy. Tracy, watching via video call, sensed my hesitation. “I knew it. Knees shaking? Want me to teach you how to ring a doorbell?” She pitched her voice high and mocking. “‘Hi Mr. Graves, I’m the loser from Operations, I got lost in your yard, can you drive me home?’” Her impression of me was humiliatingly accurate. I flushed crimson. “Shut up! Don’t you dare bring that up!” I hissed. “One more word and I hang up!” 2 The incident Tracy was referencing—the “getting lost” debacle—was the tragic climax of my first attempt to confess to Declan, right before high school graduation. Declan Graves had transferred to our school sophomore year. I remember the day he arrived. He stood at the front of the class in a simple white T-shirt, introducing himself. He wasn’t handsome in a loud, aggressive way. He was striking—clean lines, a cold detachment, skin pale against ink-black brows. He looked like a marble statue that had decided to tolerate being human for a while. He was my exact type. After class, I whispered to Tracy that I believed in love at first sight. Tracy, chewing on a Twizzler, scoffed. “With that face? half the school is in love at first sight.” “It’s not like that. I’m not superficial. It’s his aura. His… vibe.” “Vibe?” Tracy gagged. “Please. If a hotter guy walks in tomorrow, you’ll have a new ‘vibe’.” I disagreed. The football captain was hot. The valedictorian was cute. I felt nothing for them. They lacked… soul. I didn’t know what Declan’s soul looked like, but I unilaterally decided it matched mine. I lectured Tracy on her shallowness, only to be humbled by reality the very next day. Walking home, I saw him again. And I fell all over again. I didn’t even see his face at first. He was crouched by a flowerbed, feeding a stray cat a piece of ham from his sandwich. He was in profile, the setting sun outlining the sharp, lean line of his back. The wind caught his hair, and for a second, surrounded by the golden hour haze, he seemed to glow. The noise of traffic, the chatter of pedestrians—it all faded. My world narrowed down to him, the cat, and the golden light. 3 I gripped Tracy’s arm so hard my nails left crescents in her skin. “I take it back.” “You were right. I’m superficial. I’m weak.” “Tracy, I’m done for. I’m in love again.” Tracy slapped my hand away. “Are you blind? That’s still Declan.” Declan must have heard the commotion because he looked up. His eyes, turned amber by the sunset, locked onto mine. My heart skipped a beat, then stumbled, then started sprinting. That was the moment. The beginning of a nine-year, earth-shattering, absolutely cowardly crush. It wasn’t that I never tried to tell him. Before college applications were due, I gathered every ounce of courage I possessed and stalked outside his classroom. We were academically close—I was only a few ranks behind him. I wanted to ask where he was applying. Maybe we could go to the same university. I paced outside his door for five minutes, unable to cross the threshold. His classmates watched me like I was a zoo exhibit. “Isn’t that Harper from Class 3? You need something?” “I—I—” Stared down by twenty people, my tongue turned to felt. “Nothing!” I stomped my foot and turned to flee. “Harper.” The voice was cool, clear, and stopped me dead. A shiver ran from my scalp to my heels. I couldn’t turn around. I just stared at the floor. The afternoon sun stretched our shadows long, overlapping them on the linoleum. I heard his footsteps. He walked until he was in front of me. His shadow swallowed mine. My heart was hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. 4 “Harper, you did well on the mock exams,” Declan said. His voice, usually so distant, held a rare warmth. “Keep it up.” He didn’t wait for a response. He started to walk past me. “Declan!” I shouted his name before my brain could stop my mouth. He paused, turning sideways, his gaze landing on my face with a quiet inquiry. Under that focused attention, the speech I had rehearsed a thousand times evaporated. Panic, like a pair of giant hands, crumpled my brain into a paper ball. My face was burning. My ears were ringing. The hallway had gone quiet. Heads poked out of doorways. In that suffocating silence, my mind flatlined. “I… I…” I stammered, my eyes darting frantically around the hallway until they landed on the sign for Room 7. “Where is… where is my classroom again? I think… I think I’m lost.” Silence. Then, an eruption of laughter. “Harper? You’ve been here three years and you don’t know where Class 3 is?” “Did she study so hard she lobotomized herself?” “Go straight and turn right, genius!” What am I saying? Just kill me. Take me now, Lord. I didn’t wait for Declan to answer. I sprinted away, arms pumping. By the time I collapsed in my chair, the rumor that I had “studied myself stupid” had beaten me there. Tracy grabbed my arm, eyes wide. “Did you hear? Some girl had a mental break and forgot where her class was. Senior year is brutal.” I was too humiliated to correct her. But when she found out the “mental patient” was me, she laughed until she cried. “Lost? You went to confess your undying love and you told him you were lost?” “Sorry, Mr. Graves, I’m just a directional idiot,” Tracy mocked me now through the phone, pulling me back to the present. “I couldn’t find my classroom then, and now I can’t find the exit to your gated community!” I pointed the camera at the massive, carved mahogany doors of Declan’s villa. “Shut up! Look with your judgy eyes. I am at his front door!” 5 Because security had called ahead, the heavy doors were already unlatched, slightly ajar. Like a silent invitation. Or a trap. I gripped my phone, inhaled a lungful of cold night air, and stepped inside. Tracy snorted in my ear. “Big deal. You got to his classroom door once, too. Remember how that ended? You have the courage of a ham sandwich. Even if I threw you into his bed, you’d probably apologize and say you were sleepwalking. I know you.” “If you actually call him ‘Husband’ to his face, I will buy every single item in your Sephora cart. I’ll call you Big Sister. I’ll call you Queen. I’ll call you Grandma.” “Deal,” I whispered. I was in the foyer. I panned the camera to the living room so Tracy could see him. There he was, sitting on a black leather sofa under a crystal chandelier, looking like a spread in Architectural Digest. I stared at his back. I channeled my inner “Radical Claiming” energy. I yelled: “Honey, I’m home!” Then I squeezed my eyes shut and waited for death. Silence. Absolute silence. After a moment, I peeled one eye open. Declan was looking at me. He sat in the center of the room, the warm light softening the sharp angles of his face. He stared at me for a few beats, then closed his file. He patted the seat next to him. “Mhm.” “Come here.” Mhm? Mhm what? Did he just agree to the “Honey” part? And come where? To sit? My brain made a loud clunk noise and shut down. My mouth hung open. My hand spasmed, and my phone slipped, hitting the expensive Persian rug with a muffled thud. 6 I stumbled back, grabbing the doorframe for support. The cold metal against my palm shocked a little clarity back into my system. I studied him. He was wearing dark grey cashmere loungewear. The top button was undone, revealing the hollow of his throat and a hint of collarbone. It was casual, yet on him, it looked like a uniform. Rigid. Controlled. But his eyes… there was something in his eyes that broke the rules. The corner of his mouth ticked up. “Harper. Come here.” His voice was softer this time, lighter, yet commanded obedience. I rarely saw this version of Declan. I’d been working at Graves Corp for two years. I saw him often enough, but he was always the distant CEO. Even colleagues would ask, “Hey, weren’t you guys classmates? Why does it seem like you’re strangers?” I’d just smile bitterly. “He went abroad a month into college. We barely knew each other. I doubt he even remembers my name.” For three years of high school, I studied until my eyes bled just to be in the same exam halls as him. I found out where he was going to university and followed him to this city. But he transferred to a school in London a month into freshman year. I didn’t even get a chance to “accidentally” bump into him on the quad. He was busy. He never posted on social media. I lived off the scraps of information I could glean from his rare profile picture updates. I had almost given up when Tracy told me he was back. “Huge news! Declan Graves is actually rich rich. Like, Graves Corporation rich. Apparently, there was some drama with his dad’s mistress pushing him and his mom out, which is why they were in our town. But now? He’s back to claim the throne.” I didn’t care about the throne. I pulled my application to Graves Corp out of the trash and shredded my other offers. 7 Two years as his subordinate. Still no confession. Tracy called me pathetic. But I knew the truth: I was terrified. The distance between us was a thin sheet of paper, but if I poked a hole in it, I might lose the right to even look at him. Unrequited love is a gamble where you hold your chips for nine years because you’re too scared to put them on the table. Until now. I looked into the warm light of the living room. Declan leaned back, one arm draped over the sofa, looking relaxed yet powerful. His other hand was still patting the cushion. A silent invitation. A gravitational pull I couldn’t fight. Why not? I thought. I already called him Honey. I’m getting fired tomorrow anyway. I clenched my fists, steeled my heart, and walked toward him. If I’m going down, I’m going down in flames. I reached the sofa and didn’t just sit. I flopped down, pressed my body against his side, and wrapped my arms tightly around his arm. “Husband… it’s so cold outside.”

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