Category: English

My relatives said I’d won the second-wife lottery in New York. Joey Sterling married me in a headline wedding after his first wife left the country and his son drowned. A year later, we had a son, and life seemed blissful. Then Chloe, his ex-wife, returned—with convenient amnesia. She called during our nights, stormed our anniversary dinner, and kissed Joey in front of me. In a crowded store, she screamed that I was a homewrecker and ripped out a chunk of my hair. Joey would beg me, “Mia, she’s sick. She doesn’t mean it… Once she’s better, she’ll leave us alone.” I believed him. But on our son’s birthday, Chloe took him. After five frantic hours, I found him barely breathing in a Central Park pond. I was trembling too hard to lift him. When I turned for help, I saw Joey and Chloe standing close, foreheads touching. “My love,” he said, voice breaking, “I don’t know when you’ll remember… right here, I proposed to you ten times.” A cold calm washed over me. I took out my phone and called 911. I was done swallowing this half-baked life, this second-best marriage. … Black water was pouring from my son’s mouth and nose; he could barely choke out the word “Mama.” My heart was a frantic drum as I performed CPR, my arms aching with exhaustion. All the while, Joey was gently pulling Chloe into his arms, whispering about the romance of his long-ago proposals. It wasn’t until the piercing wail of sirens sliced through the air that Joey seemed to wake from his trance, his gaze finally shifting to his wife and dying son. “Mia.” I looked up, my eyes burning. For a fleeting moment, I thought he was finally going to show some concern for our son, whose little face was already stiff with cold. But reality hit me like a physical blow. “Why did you call the police! Don’t you know Chloe’s condition can’t handle any stress?” My head buzzed. It wasn’t the first time I’d heard that excuse. Because Chloe couldn’t be “stressed,” I had spent the last six months living like a mistress in my own home. My son was forced to pretend he was his dead half-brother, thrown into a freezing river in the middle of winter for “swimming lessons,” and ended up with pneumonia. If my son and I didn’t play along, we were the unkind ones. But I had had enough. I pushed myself up from the frozen ground and started walking toward the police officers. I didn’t get two steps before Chloe shoved me hard from behind. “I’ll teach you to call the police!” After six hours of adrenaline and physical exertion, my world went black. I crumpled to my knees. The last thing I heard was Joey’s voice, distant but firm, determined to protect Chloe. “It was a misunderstanding with our nanny. The boy’s mother was just out playing with our son.” “Yes, I’m his legal guardian. I’m not pressing charges…” When I opened my eyes again, I shot up in bed. “Where’s my son?” Joey calmly placed a warm towel on my forehead, a hint of amusement in his voice. “What’s the rush? Noah just went for a little swim. He went home with the housekeeper hours ago.” He sighed. “And you, calling the police over such a small thing. You made Chloe sit through a thirty-minute questioning…” His every word was an accusation, painting me as the one who had overreacted. Our son nearly drowned, and that was a “small thing”? I slapped his hand away, my voice hard for the first time in our marriage. “Let’s get a divorce.” A dead silence fell over the room. As Joey stared at me in stunned disbelief, Chloe pushed the door open. A flicker of triumph flashed in her eyes before her expression crumbled into anguish. “Mia, please, don’t do this! I remember everything now, my son… my Ethan is dead,” she sobbed. “I just want to treat Noah like my own son, to love him. Isn’t it better for him to have one more person who loves him?” In the past, words like these would have sent me into a blind rage. This time, I just smiled. “Why raise another woman’s child? Here, I’ll make room for you. You and Joey can have another one of your own.” Surprise flickered across Chloe’s face, quickly replaced by a look of profound humiliation as her eyes welled up. “I’m not trying to break up this family! How could you say that to me? It’s just… compared to my Ethan, Noah is so weak! I was just trying to help you toughen him up, and you turn on me like this!” Tears streamed down her face, her body trembling as if she were about to collapse. Joey, completely flustered, shoved me aside and rushed to her. The force sent me stumbling backward, and my head slammed against the sharp corner of the bedframe. Blood streamed down my face. But Joey didn’t even look back. His voice was filled with reproach. “Mia, Chloe is a patient! Do you have to provoke her, force her to remember how Ethan drowned? Is that what makes you happy? How did you become so cruel?” The accusation was laughable. Chloe was the one who had brought up Ethan. But Joey was just getting started, turning his anger on our son. “The boy is spoiled because of you! A little swim sends him into a panic. A soft mother makes for a weak son! And now you want a divorce? Just stop it! There is no way I’m letting you raise him!” A groan of pain escaped my lips. As Joey instinctively turned his head, Chloe suddenly clutched hers, crying out in pain. Without a second of hesitation, Joey swept her up into his arms and bolted from the room. As he carried her out, Chloe looked over his shoulder and shot me a smirk of pure mockery. I watched them go, my expression blank. Joey was certain that with our son as my weakness, I would always give in. But he didn’t know. He didn’t know that when he was drowning in depression after his wife and son were gone, it was his own mother who had begged me to marry him. And the document I signed wasn’t just a marriage certificate; it was also a pre-nuptial agreement with a clause stating that in the event of a divorce, Joey Sterling waived all rights to custody. I could walk away whenever I wanted. Joey didn’t come home. It seemed he had forgotten it was our son’s birthday. But I hadn’t. When I opened the door to Noah’s room, I found his small figure staring blankly at his birthday cake. His eyes lit up when he saw me, like a little bird waiting to be fed. He instinctively glanced behind me. Seeing no one, he stretched his lips into an even bigger smile. My heart ached. At five years old, my son was already an expert at hiding his disappointment. But it was Noah who burst into tears first. “Mommy, what happened to your head? Is it because I’m not as good a swimmer as my brother? Did Daddy get mad at you again? It’s all my fault…” A five-year-old should be showered with praise on his birthday, told how wonderful and amazing he is. He shouldn’t be anxiously wondering what he did wrong this time. But for as long as he could remember, he had been compared to a half-brother he had never met. On his fourth birthday, Noah won second place in a competition. “Well,” Joey had sighed, “he still doesn’t have Ethan’s natural talent.” That one sigh extinguished all the boy’s joy. The mood that evening was heavy, the adults murmuring about “if only Ethan were here…” The celebration fizzled out. Joey left early, shutting himself in Ethan’s old room, staring at a wall covered in trophies until the middle of the night. I hugged my son tightly, my voice choked but firm. “No, sweetie, it’s not your fault. You are perfect. It’s Daddy who’s wrong. Mommy is going to take you away from here, and you’ll never have to be compared to anyone ever again.” “What nonsense are you spouting!” A low, furious growl came from the doorway. Joey stood there, his face a thundercloud, and strode towards us. His eyes fell on the gauze on my forehead, his brows knitting together. “When did you hit your head? Did you damage your brain? Is that why you’re filling our son’s head with this poison?” He reached out to check my wound. Seeing this, a flash of jealousy crossed Chloe’s face, and she immediately adopted her fragile persona. “Mia, how can you teach a child that? To run away from the slightest difficulty? That’s not love, you’re harming him! No wonder he…” As she spoke, she casually rolled up her sleeve, revealing a red mark on her arm. She glanced at Noah, her sentence trailing off meaningfully. Joey’s eyes narrowed. He whipped around to face our son. Noah, clearly baffled, just shook his head helplessly. “Daddy, I didn’t…” “And now you’re learning to lie!” The frustrations of the entire evening erupted. Joey grabbed Noah and shoved him in front of Chloe. “Apologize to Aunt Chloe!” The rough grip hurt Noah, and tears welled in his eyes. “It wasn’t me! It really wasn’t! Daddy, don’t you remember my birthday wish?” But Chloe grabbed Noah’s hand, pressed it against her supposed injury, and cried out. “Ow! That hurts! Noah, stop it…” CRACK! Joey backhanded our son, sending him stumbling to the floor. Noah sat there, clutching his face, looking up at his father in stunned silence. The tears stopped. My own eyes filled. I knew what that meant. My son had finally lost all hope in his father. But Joey was oblivious, his voice a harsh command. “Charles! Take Noah to his room and lock the door! Let him think about what he’s done!” Seeing my son’s trembling body, my heart felt like it was being shredded. I lunged forward to get him back. Joey seized my wrist, his voice filled with resentment. “Mia, what is wrong with you? Haven’t you caused enough trouble?” “That’s right, Mia,” Chloe chimed in, pointing at the cake, now a trampled mess on the floor. “Joey came here to celebrate Noah’s birthday, and you’ve ruined everything. I’m sure Noah will resent you for this.” They had ruined everything! Rage exploded in my chest. Without thinking, I slapped Joey across the face. “Divorce! We’re doing it now! And don’t you worry about our son! Whether he turns out good or bad, he is my responsibility from now on!” I had hit him with all my strength. His head snapped to the side. When he turned back, his eyes were red with disbelief. “Haven’t I been good to you? How can you say such a thing?” Perhaps he had. There were gifts on holidays, yearly vacations, small surprises after work. But when Chloe had once looked at a wall of those gifts with a knowing, dismissive smirk, I realized he was just repeating the same routines he’d had with her. And when I was being publicly assaulted, when my son was being ostracized by his classmates, Joey’s silence had been louder and more painful than any slap. “You forgot Ethan—saying these things in front of the child! Do you have any idea how much psychological damage that will do to him!” I didn’t care about my son? I laughed, my body shaking. “Yesterday, at the pond, do you know our son almost drowned? If I had been one minute later, he would be gone!” “He was thrown into a freezing river at four years old to ‘practice,’ and he never once cried, even when the cold made his muscles cramp! But the night I was attacked and called a homewrecker, do you know our son cried himself to sleep under his blankets?” I pointed at Chloe, who was hiding behind Joey, trying to smother a smile. Tears mixed with my screams. “Joey, tell me! Did you marry me because you loved me, or because you just wanted to replace Ethan? But Ethan is dead! My son doesn’t have to be him, and he never will be!” As the words left my mouth, the wound on my forehead split open again, and warm blood trickled down my face. A dazed look crossed Joey’s face, and a bitter regret slowly filled his eyes. “Mia, I didn’t know. I really didn’t know.” He took a step forward, reaching out to pull me into his arms. But at that moment, a shriek came from behind him. “How could my Ethan be gone! You must have killed him!” Chloe had “lost her memory” again, lunging at me like a madwoman. I didn’t back down. I raised my hand and slapped her twice, hard. “Chloe, did Ethan really kill himself because his parents got divorced?” She, who was so used to having the upper hand, was incensed. Her eyes darted around, and she snatched a pair of scissors, aiming them at her own body. “I’d rather die than be bullied by a homewrecker like you!” “Chloe!” Joey’s face went white. He lunged, wrestled the scissors from her grasp, and yelled for the staff. “Get the car! We’re going to the hospital!” Before leaving, he rushed back to me, his hands gripping mine, his tone almost pleading. “Thank god, thank god she didn’t hurt you. Please, let the doctor re-bandage your head, okay? I promise… this is the last time.” My head was splitting. I wanted to speak, but no words would come out. The story was that Chloe had run off to another country with Ethan’s swim coach, taking a large sum of money with her. Shortly after, the devastating news came: Ethan, missing his father, had drowned himself in a lake. Joey had been on the verge of a complete breakdown, and Chloe was unreachable. It was only when the money ran out that she had crawled back. The first time she broke into our home, she tore our wedding photos to shreds. But she claimed amnesia, and Joey forgave everything. Then she threw boiling water at me, cut my hair, slipped sleeping pills into my son’s food… Every time, it was the “last time.” A never-ending cycle. But I wasn’t willing to wait anymore. Seeing that I didn’t argue, Joey assumed I had agreed. Still, a sense of panic gripped him. He gritted his teeth and made a final vow. “If this doesn’t work, if she’s not cured this time, I’ll have her committed. I will never let her hurt you again.” He leaned down, pressed a quick kiss on my cheek, and hurried away. I leaned against the wall and slowly slid to the floor, missing the venomous glare Chloe shot me as she was led away. When I opened my eyes, the sun was bright. The housekeeper sat by my bed, her eyes red. “Ma’am, you’re finally awake! The young master has been locked in the basement all night!” I ran barefoot to the basement and scooped up my son, who was burning with fever and delirious. My phone buzzed. A message from my lawyer: The divorce has been finalized. Without hesitation, I grabbed our suitcases, picked up my son, and walked out. But just as I stepped out the front door, a slap sent me sprawling to the ground. “So it was you! How could you enable him like this? He steals something, and you help him run away!” I hit the ground hard, shielding my son, my face contorted in pain. “What are you talking about?” Joey dragged us roughly back upstairs and threw us down at Chloe’s feet. She was sobbing over an empty box. “Ethan’s gold medal is gone! Noah, I know you’re jealous of your brother, but you can’t steal his honor and make it yours!” “I tried to raise you like my own son! Please, just give me back Ethan’s things…” My son, delirious with fever, still instinctively stood up for himself. “No, I didn’t…” Joey snatched him from my arms and kicked him twice, hard. “Still lying! You worthless little thing! You were so jealous you tore all his awards off the wall!” My son’s screams broke me. I grabbed a crystal trophy and pointed it at Joey. “Give me back my son! If you touch him again, I swear I’ll kill you!” “The awards were hung high on the wall. How could a five-year-old reach them?” Joey froze. Chloe suddenly dropped to her knees, slapping herself across the face. “It’s my fault! I shouldn’t have sent Ethan abroad for his swimming career! He wouldn’t have gotten so depressed and killed himself because he missed his father! Please, take it out on me! Ethan was so young when he died, and now we can’t even protect his memory! We failed him as parents!” Her hysterical cries ignited the long-suppressed guilt in Joey. He grabbed a whip and brought it crashing down on our son.

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Right before college entrance exams, my dying grandfather showed up. He had late-stage leukemia. His offer was simple: whoever takes care of him until he dies gets his multi-million dollar inheritance. My dad spat on the ground and cursed, “You old fraud! Trying to trick me into going back to that shack in the boonies? Keep dreaming!” My mom, busy shuffling mahjong tiles, scoffed, “He just wants us to pay his medical bills. Hasn’t he lived long enough?” I had just been told to drop out of high school and get a job. When I tried to defend Grandpa, my fat, spoiled brother slapped me across the face. “Shut up, you adopted trash! What gives you the right to speak? If you care so much, you go!” Suddenly, a row of text floated across my vision like a live stream comment: [These idiots are so dumb and cruel. They don’t know the old family home got bought out by the government for thirty million dollars!] [Exactly! Money is nothing to the old man. He just wants to leave this world with some dignity.] [Ungrateful wolves. Raising them was a waste.] I gasped. I looked at my grandfather, who was wiping away tears, and then thought about my exams. “Okay!” I said. “I’ll go!” 1 They say having an elder in the house is like having a treasure. But in my family, Grandpa was just trash. Ever since he hurt his leg in the mines and got diagnosed with cancer, he became a thorn in my parents’ side. They hated that he couldn’t earn money and cost them medical fees. Their favorite phrase was, “Why won’t this useless old thing just die?” His biological grandson, my younger brother Tyler, despised him too. “Having a cripple for a grandpa is so embarrassing!” Grandpa never dared to talk back. He just sat in the corner, secretly wiping his tears. When we moved to the suburbs, my parents left him behind in the old countryside shack to rot. They hoped he would starve or freeze to death. But then he showed up with his offer. My parents laughed in his face. “Trying to scam us on your deathbed? Do you think we’re stupid?” Honestly, I didn’t believe a retired miner could have millions either. But when I tried to speak up for him, Tyler shoved me down. Grandpa tried to help me up, mumbling apologies. “Don’t hit your brother… it’s all my fault…” Tyler sneered. “He’s not my brother. You two are perfect for each other—one old corpse and one little bastard.” My mom looked at Tyler with pride. “Exactly. If you’re so noble, Lucas, you go take care of the old man. Get out of my house!” “And quit school while you’re at it! We told you to get a job ages ago!” I struggled to stand up, dizzy. That’s when the floating text appeared again. [The old man is hiding his wealth to test his descendants!] [These morons are celebrating while losing a fortune!] [Forget it, the old man is so heartbroken he’s planning to donate it all!] I took a deep breath. College exams were coming up. If I went to the countryside… But looking at the weeping old man, I gritted my teeth. “Fine! I’ll go!” I would take care of him. And if the money was real? I wanted it. 2 I packed my things into a single duffel bag. My mom threw it out the door. My dad leaned against the doorframe, smoking. “Fed you for fifteen years for nothing. Ungrateful wolf.” Mom added, “If you want to help that old thing, get lost. Saves us a mouth to feed.” I picked up my bag without a word, supported Grandpa, and we headed back to the old house. It was an escape for me, too. Exams were approaching, and they were convinced I wouldn’t get into college. They constantly pressured me to drop out. “Lucas, your grades are trash. You’re not cut out for school!” “Quit and work! We can only afford to send Tyler to college!” My 250-pound brother spent all day gaming and barely passed his classes. Meanwhile, I was in the top 100 of my grade, aiming for a top-tier university. But every time I showed them my report card, Tyler claimed I cheated. My dad would whip me with his belt. “Cheating scum!” Mom would sneer, “Of course he cheated. How could a stray be smarter than our Tyler?” They had sentenced me to failure. But I didn’t want to give up. I wanted to go to college. Grandpa’s house was dilapidated. It was where we all lived before my parents adopted me, back when they were poor. Now, it was the tomb they prepared for him. Despite his bad leg, Grandpa cleaned up the room with the best sunlight for me. “This room is bright. Good for Lucas to study.” Watching him carefully place my tattered books on the desk, my eyes watered. The floating text returned: [Finally, someone who appreciates education! The old man has high hopes for Lucas!] [Tyler is the bad seed lying about cheating. Only Grandpa believes in Lucas!] I was adopted after my parents struggled with infertility. But a year later, Mom got pregnant with Tyler. Suddenly, I was a burden. “Should have never adopted the little bastard.” “Throw him out. We have our own son now.” But due to reputation and laws, they kept me. They named my brother Tyler—strong, ambitious. For me? My dad looked at skinny little me and said, “Been here two years without a real name. Since you’re the extra one, let’s call you Spare.” Just kidding. They named me Lucas, but they treated me like a spare part. Growing up, I was mocked. “Lucas the stray! Tyler’s servant!” When I was ten, Tyler, already pushing 180 pounds, laughed while I got beaten for not wanting to go to school. It was Grandpa who took me to change my middle name to “Hope.” He hoped my life would be bright. It wasn’t. But I was grateful. 3 After I missed a few days of school, Tyler called to gloat. “Hey, stray. Regretting it yet?” “Missed two days already. Bet you have to wake up before dawn to walk to school from that dump!” “Your grades were fake anyway. Now you’re gonna be dead last!” “If you kneel and beg me, maybe I’ll put in a good word with Mom and Dad.” [Pfft! Don’t beg him, Lucas! He’s just trying to gross you out!] [Exactly! With Grandpa’s backing, Lucas doesn’t need school! Grandpa’s about to hire a private tutor!] [A famous tutor is already at the door!] As I stared at the text, a voice called from the yard. “Is this Lucas’s home?” I hung up and went outside. A middle-aged man in plain clothes stood there with a briefcase. “Hi, I’m Lucas.” Grandpa hobbled out. “Ah, Mr. Stone! Lucas, this is the tutor I hired for you.” [Arthur Stone! Grandpa actually got THE Arthur Stone!] [With Stone tutoring him, Lucas is gonna crush it!] I was stunned. Arthur Stone was a legend. His name was on the textbooks we used. He was a former senior educator at the top magnet school in the state and helped write the college entrance exams. Grandpa hired him? I politely greeted him. “Thank you, Mr. Stone.” Stone smiled. “Let’s get to work.” He was incredible. In two hours, I learned more than I had in a month at my crappy high school. Before leaving, Stone praised me to Grandpa. “His foundation is solid. It’s a shame his school put him in the remedial class. With some work, he can get into an Ivy.” Grandpa beamed, organizing a stack of old certificates. “I knew my Lucas had potential.” My heart trembled. Those were my old award certificates. Mom had thrown them in the trash when we moved. Grandpa had saved them. 4 My days in the village were fulfilling. But every night, I heard Grandpa vomiting in pain. My parents said he had cancer and was dying. I looked at the floating text for answers. [Grandpa has leukemia. He’s been suffering for years!] [Luckily he has money for the best treatments. If he relied on his son, he’d be dead already!] [He’s in remission now and just wanted to spend time with family, but those ingrates kicked him out!] Leukemia. It wasn’t necessarily a death sentence if we could find a bone marrow match. I decided to get tested next time I went to the city. Half a month later, I returned to school for a mock exam. Grandpa’s house was far, so I had to bike starting at 5 AM. Grandpa didn’t buy me a car or a house near school. [The old man is testing Lucas!] [He needs to see if Lucas has the grit to handle millions!] At school, Tyler blocked me on the stairs. I looked down at his multiple chins. “The stray came back? Here to see if you’re last or second to last?” I ignored him and picked up my bag he threw on the floor. “You think taking care of that old corpse will get you anything? Idiot!” He was jealous. He thought I’d have a miserable time, but I looked… peaceful.

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I had just stepped onto the stage for the company’s holiday gala raffle when my boss, Gavin Chase, shoved a crumpled piece of paper into my hand. “Top Salesman’s exclusive prize! Go on, open it up and show everyone!” he sneered. Under the expectant gaze of the entire company, I unfolded the paper. Scrawled in messy handwriting were the words: Janitorial Duty: Clean all office restrooms for three days. As the room erupted in laughter, Gavin crossed his arms, smirking at me. “Generous, right? I mean, we all know your sales numbers come from sleeping with wealthy cougars. It’s dirty money. To keep things fair for the other hardworking employees, you shouldn’t mind putting in a little extra elbow grease, right?” The laughter turned into a roar. Sarah Sterling, the CEO and my girlfriend of twelve years, stood right next to him. She watched the whole scene unfold. And just like always, she didn’t say a single word to defend me. Everyone expected me to snap. To scream. To break down. Instead, I just nodded calmly. “Okay.” The next day, the company received over 300 cancellation notices for pending real estate closings. The capital chain snapped instantly. Gavin and Sarah begged me to call the buyers back. I smiled and replied, “No thanks. If I save the company again, my performance will be too high. I wouldn’t want to make the other employees feel ‘unbalanced.’” Chapter 1 When I said I accepted the “reward,” the venue went silent for a split second before the laughter redoubled. Gavin laughed the hardest, leaning back, practically wiping tears from his eyes. “See? That’s why he’s the Top Dog! Thickest skin in the game!” I ignored his sarcasm and spoke into the microphone, my voice steady. “I just want to clarify one thing. Since the company has assigned me this janitorial duty, this will be my only task for the next three days. I will not be responsible for any other work.” Gavin paused, looking confused. He hadn’t expected a counter-condition. It was the end of the fiscal year. All the sales targets had been met because of me, but the deals were still in escrow. We were waiting on the clients to finalize their bank transfers. Me stepping away from sales right now was essentially handing him a loaded gun pointed at the company’s revenue. But Gavin thought I was just losing my mind from anger. He didn’t think twice. “Fine! If you don’t want to do sales, don’t. It’s not like the Sales Department is a one-man show. Do you really think Sterling Estates stops spinning without you?” He sneered. “Just focus on the toilets. If I see a single hair on the floor, you’re fired.” I didn’t say another word. I turned and walked off the stage. In the hallway, I pulled out my phone and sent a message to my exclusive client group chat—a group known as “The Whales.” [Me: Ladies and Gentlemen, I am facing a position change. Please delay your bank transfers and closing procedures temporarily. Await my further notice.] The moment I hit send, a text from Sarah popped up. [Sarah: Come to my office. We need to talk.] I tossed my phone onto the passenger seat and drove home. We fell in love in college. After graduation, at Sarah’s begging, I turned down a job offer with a starting salary of $200k to help her build her real estate brokerage from scratch. She always said, “Once we hit $100 million in revenue, we’ll get married properly.” I believed her. I gave everything to the company. In return, I got ignored and suppressed. Gavin had only been at the company for three months. His sales numbers were a fraction of mine. But because Sarah was obsessed with his “Ivy League background” and “overseas experience,” she bypassed me and made him the Sales Director. And I, the top salesman for three years running, was rewarded with three days of cleaning toilets. Back at the office the next morning, amidst looks of pity and mockery, I walked to the utility closet and put on a janitor’s vest. Just as I picked up a mop, a voice rang out behind me. “Liam, stop!” Chapter 2 It was Sarah. Usually, she pretended we were strangers in the office to “maintain professionalism.” This was the first time she had called out to me publicly. She walked over, her face cold, looking down at me. “I told you to come to my office. Why didn’t you?” “I was busy working,” I said flatly. “Didn’t see it.” It was the excuse she always used on me. Hearing it come from my mouth made her choke on her words. “It’s just a small prank,” she sighed, lowering her voice so others wouldn’t hear. “Do you have to throw a tantrum?” “I know you’re unhappy about Gavin’s little joke, and I know I didn’t step in. But he’s the new Director. He’s boosted morale. If I sided with you in front of everyone, it would undermine his authority. You need to be more understanding of my position.” “You know damn well that wasn’t a reward,” I cut her off. “That was bullying. Pure and simple.” She frowned. “Liam, don’t start.” “And what morale did he boost?” I continued. “Do you think our numbers are up because Gavin sits in his office drinking lattes? If I wasn’t out there in the rain and snow, skipping meals to meet clients, do you think we would have closed a single deal this winter?” Sarah’s face darkened. “Liam, don’t be so arrogant. You act like you hold up Sterling Estates all by yourself.” “If it wasn’t for Gavin’s ‘Warm Winter’ marketing campaign, would we have that much foot traffic? You’re benefiting from his strategy. Don’t act like a martyr.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Gavin’s “Warm Winter” campaign consisted of setting up a folding table outside the office, serving cheap instant coffee, and giving away dollar-store gloves that fell apart in a day. The coffee went cold, and the gloves ended up in the trash down the block. In Sarah’s eyes, that gimmick was genius. And my twelve years of blood and sweat were just me “riding his coattails.” The last thread of affection I held for her snapped. I threw the mop into the bucket. It landed with a loud splash. “Fine,” I said cold. “Since you think Gavin is the savior of this company, I quit. And we’re done. I’m breaking up with you.” Chapter 3 We had been together for over a decade. No matter how disappointed I was, I had never threatened to leave. Sarah stared at me, eyes wide with shock. “Liam, are you insane? Do you know what you’re saying?” Her shock quickly turned to anger. “We are inches away from the revenue goal I promised. Just 300 more closings and we hit the target. If you mess this up now, I won’t give you a second chance!” I didn’t waste another breath. I walked out. When I got home, my phone rang. It was my dad. “Liam! Are you out of your mind?” he screamed the moment I picked up. “How dare you fight with Sarah? Go apologize to her right now!” “You’re a man in his thirties! You have what you have because of her! Don’t be ungrateful!” His voice dropped lower. “Sarah is young, beautiful, and rich. A woman like that sticking with you for twelve years is a blessing! If you piss her off, who’s going to want you? You need a capable woman to hold you up. Go beg for forgiveness and lock down that marriage. Stop acting like a child!” “Without Sarah, you are nothing!” I held the phone away from my ear, laughing bitterly. For years, Sarah had bought my dad’s loyalty with cheap gifts—cigarettes, whiskey, a red envelope here and there. He treated her like a savior and me like a parasite. “Dad,” I said calmly. “I’m done listening.” I hung up. I opened my phone to the client group chat. [Me: Everyone, I have officially resigned from Sterling Estates. If you have any real estate needs in the future, you can find me personally.] Less than a minute later, the group exploded. [Mr. Henderson: Liam is leaving? What about our escrow? I only trust you, Liam. I don’t trust that company.] [Mrs. Lee: Exactly. We chose Sterling because of your expertise. If you go, we go.] [TechCEO_Mike: I don’t care what logo is on your business card. I follow the talent. Liam, wherever you land, let us know.] [InvestCorp_J: My deal hasn’t closed yet. Liam, tell me where to sign the cancellation papers. I’ll move the portfolio to your new firm.] Messages poured in. No doubts. Just unconditional trust. Twelve years of devotion meant nothing to Sarah. But to these clients, my honesty meant everything. It wasn’t that my efforts were wasted. It was just that Sarah wasn’t worthy of them. I wiped a tear from my eye and typed: [Thank you all for the trust. Once I settle on my next move, you will be the first to know.] Chapter 4 Just then, a text came in from an unknown number. It was marked as “Executive Recruiter.” [Mr. Cole, hello. We’ve been tracking your reputation in the industry. We heard you might be on the market. Our client is prepared to offer double your current salary and a Director title. Interested?] I replied: [Let’s talk.] I slept better that night than I had in years. The next morning, I went to the office to pack my personal belongings. I ignored the whispers. Gavin strutted up to my desk, a smug grin on his face. “Hey, Liam, buddy. Can’t take a joke?” “Just because you had to scrub a toilet, you break up with the CEO? A little dramatic, don’t you think?” He pulled a red envelope from his pocket. “Tell you what. I’ll be the bigger man. Here’s a personal bonus from me to smooth things over.” He handed me the envelope. “There’s fifty bucks in there. Take yourself out to lunch.” Fifty dollars. The company gala had given out thousands in cash prizes to random interns. The top salesman got fifty bucks and a mop. I slapped his hand away. It wasn’t a hard hit, but Gavin shrieked like he’d been shot and threw himself backward, crashing into my desk. “Liam! I was just trying to be nice! Why did you hit me?!” Sarah rushed out of her office. “Liam! My patience has limits!” she yelled. “Apologize to Gavin right now or get out!” I shook her hand off my arm. “Sarah, is your memory failing? I quit yesterday. I’m just here to get my box.” Sarah’s face twisted. She blocked my path to the elevator. “You can leave, but the client list stays. Those 300 pending deals belong to Sterling Estates.” I stopped and looked at her. “Fine.” I reached into my box, pulled out a stack of files, and dropped them on the nearest desk. “But I’ll remind you. Those 300 clients signed because of me. Not because of Sterling Estates. And definitely not because of you or Gavin.” Sarah laughed. “You have quite the ego, Liam. Without the company platform, you’re nobody. You think they’ll follow you? Don’t flatter yourself.” Gavin chimed in from the floor. “Exactly! We’ll take over these accounts and close them by Friday. You think the company stops turning without you?” I didn’t argue. I picked up my box and walked to the elevator. As the doors slid open, a receptionist came sprinting down the hall, face pale as a ghost. “Ms. Sterling! Gavin! It’s a disaster!” “The phones won’t stop ringing! It’s the clients! They’re all canceling! Every single one!”

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On Christmas, our fifth year together, I tore apart the house looking for a missing stocking—the one holding the custom engagement ring I’d bought him. Then the police called. Vincent had been in a bad fight. I hurried to the station, signed him out, and saw his face bruised, smelling of cheap whiskey. He stayed silent about what happened. Later, his phone lit up with messages from a female colleague, Erin: Vincent, thank you for standing up to my ex-husband. Without you these past months, my son and I wouldn’t have made it. Leo loves the stocking you gave him. He waits for “Daddy Vincent” every day. Give us a family. Enraged, I threw the phone. We fought bitterly. I was hysterical; he called me heartless. Finally, he promised to transfer Erin to another team and cut all contact. And it seemed he had—their work chats were strictly professional. Until I found the hidden space on his phone. They’d just moved their conversations to a private account, full of photos with Erin and her son, all warmly congratulated. Scrolling back to Christmas night, I saw her message: I found a ring in the stocking. Is your girlfriend proposing? I can return it. He replied: Don’t. Pretend you never saw it. I’m not ready to marry. Fine. He’d get his wish. After five years, it was time for me to go home. 1 Vincent was busy in the kitchen. “Chloe, I’ve reheated everything a few times. It might not taste great anymore.” “Tell me what you want, I’ll order something. Or I can take you out. That new Japanese place on the corner is still…” He turned and saw my tear-filled eyes. His expression softened instantly. “Hey, come on. Don’t be like that.” “You’re the most understanding girl in the world, right?” I pulled away from his touch, my voice cold. “Get the Christmas stocking back.” Vincent’s smile froze. He tore off his apron, balled it up, and threw it at my feet. He pointed a trembling finger at my face for a moment before forcing out a single, grit-toothed word. “Fine.” He made the call. Erin said her son had accidentally ripped a seam in the stocking. “I’m so sorry. Tell me how much it was, and I’ll pay you back.” Vincent looked like he was about to lose it. One Christmas stocking. A never-ending drama. “It’s fine,” he said into the phone. “Chloe’s just throwing a little tantrum. I’ll buy her a new…” “It’s not the same, Vincent,” I cut in. Suddenly, he smashed the phone against the wall. It exploded into pieces, and a few shards flew out, cutting my arm and drawing blood. His voice boomed. “What the hell is your problem today?!” “It’s a damn Christmas stocking, Chloe! Could you be any more obvious about your grudge against Erin?” I stared at him, stunned. Vincent pulled a wad of cash from his wallet and threw it in my face. The bills scattered, and among them were three ticket stubs from an amusement park. “Is that enough?” He pulled out a credit card. And threw it at me. “IS THAT ENOUGH?!” “I’M PAYING YOU BACK FOR HER!” My ears were ringing. In six years, this was the first time Vincent had ever been truly angry with me. He looked vicious, like he wanted to devour me whole. A dull ache bloomed in my chest. I was so hurt I couldn’t speak. All I could do was fumble through my phone’s photo album, desperately searching for the proof—the evidence from five years ago when he’d promised to marry me on this very day. He was the one who had forgotten. “That’s enough. Let’s both just cool off for a night.” Vincent pushed my phone away. “Chloe, you need to take a long, hard look at your own jealousy.” The door slammed shut. I started dry-heaving, my body convulsing uncontrollably. I clutched the fabric over my heart. It was the only thing that seemed to ease the feeling of suffocation. When the tears finally stopped and I could breathe again, I pulled myself off the floor and started packing my few belongings. I had arrived six years ago, full of courage and alone. I would leave six years later, just as alone. Erin posted on her private account. The caption read: 【The happiest Christmas ever.】 The photo was taken at an upscale restaurant. Vincent was holding her son, and Erin was nestled against his side. While I had been gone, they had gone out for a feast. The table was laden with food. The dishes Vincent had been reheating in the kitchen were their leftovers. Including a shrimp dish—Erin’s favorite, and a deadly allergen for me. He hadn’t even thought to pick them out for me. Vincent’s assistant had commented: “Whoa, that was fast. Erin’s charm is no joke.” “And to think Vincent is always going on at work about how he’s not the marrying type. Guess he fell for her in the end.” The screen went dark, reflecting my ashen face. My hands were shaking as I packed the last of my things. At the very bottom of my suitcase was the bus ticket from my journey to Chicago six years ago. A 32-hour ride. But my six years of devotion had never been real to him. 2 It was laughable, really. After all these years in Chicago, I had no friends, no job. The only money I had was what Vincent had thrown at me last night. The only thing I had learned was how to revolve around him. I learned to cook for him, to put him first, to empty my savings to buy him a twenty-thousand-dollar watch just to see him smile. I was such a fool. A fool who had offered up her heart, completely exposed, for him to trample on. “One ticket to Miami, please.” The woman behind the counter suddenly spoke. “Hey… aren’t you the girl from six years ago?” I looked up, a hint of color returning to my pale face. “You remember me?” The woman smiled. “How could anyone forget you two?” “Your boyfriend waited outside the station for you for a whole day and night. The snow was piling up on his shoulders, but he wouldn’t move, terrified he’d miss you.” “We told him to go inside, get a cup of coffee to warm up, but he just gave this shy smile and said he was starting a business, that he’d spent all his money on a gift for you. He couldn’t even afford a train ticket, said he’d walked for five hours just to get to the station.” I listened, captivated. My chest felt tight, a bitter ache spreading through it. From a rundown squat, to a tiny rental, to the spacious penthouse we lived in now. He had shouldered all the hardship alone. With hands raw from frostbite and calluses, he had built a life for us, brick by brick. A home. “We won’t have to be afraid of the winter anymore,” he’d said. “Chloe… I was so scared you would come find me. And so scared you wouldn’t.” “I was terrified you’d have to suffer with me.” “But I was even more terrified that you didn’t love me.” He had cried that day. He held me so tightly I thought I would merge into his body. My own tears streamed down my face. It was supposed to be a happy memory. How had it become so painful? “Here’s your ticket, honey.” My fingertips trembled as I took it. It felt less like a ticket and more like a blade, meant to sever the past. “Don’t cry.” The ticket agent glanced at the expensive jade bracelet on my wrist and seemed to relax a little. “When you build a life with a man from nothing, don’t measure it in love. Measure it in money. Measure it by how willing he is to provide for you.” I nodded. The ticket was crumpled in my fist. Just before boarding, Vincent arrived. He ran toward me, just like he had six years ago, and pulled me into a fierce hug. I could hear his ragged breathing, his frantic heartbeat, the tremor in his voice. “Don’t go…” “Chloe, I was just angry with you. I wasn’t trying to kick you out…” Vincent tore up my ticket, swept me into his arms, and placed me in the passenger seat of his car. “You don’t want me seeing Erin, right?” “I had her transferred. I’ll keep my distance from now on.” I was silent. I stared numbly at the little charm dangling from the rearview mirror—a gift from Erin. The car was filled with the scent of citrus—Erin’s perfume. The glove compartment, which used to be filled with my things, was now stuffed with snacks for a child and several tubes of lipstick that weren’t mine. I blinked, my eyes feeling incredibly dry. Vincent didn’t notice. He was chattering on about taking me to Japan for the holidays. I sighed softly. I didn’t even have the energy to nod. 3 Vincent never mentioned Erin again. Their chat history was strictly professional. It was a clean break. “Chloe, I’m up for the VP position, so things are going to be really busy for a while.” His voice sounded distant over the phone. Unreal. “I transferred some money to your account. Go out, do some shopping, buy yourself something nice. Don’t put all your energy into me.” He would come home after I was already asleep. He would leave in the morning while I was still dreaming. There was always breakfast he’d warmed up for me in the microwave, and my dirty clothes would be washed and hung to dry on the balcony. Every corner of the house held a trace of Vincent. I could see him. But I could no longer reach him. I could feel us drifting apart, our relationship rusting over. If you polished away the rust, it almost looked the same as before. But it was lighter now. Floating. A strong gust of wind could send it tumbling away. I was planning to take the money and leave, but then came the biggest complication of all: I was pregnant. At first, it was just fatigue, loss of appetite, constant nausea. I told Vincent. The next day, he brought home a bag full of pills for me to take. He didn’t even give me any instructions before rushing out the door again. It wasn’t until I felt terribly sick from the medication that I went to the hospital and found out. “We’ll have to run more tests to see if you can keep the baby,” the doctor said, her brow furrowed. “After taking so many antibiotics, there’s a risk of birth defects.” Two nurses had to help me out of the examination room. I spent the next six hours in the waiting area, the most agonizing six hours of my life. The backs of my hands were covered in bruises from where I’d dug my nails in. My eyes were wide open, streaming with tears of guilt. I cursed myself for not realizing sooner. For not being more careful with the medication. For just swallowing whatever Vincent handed me without a second thought. “For now, everything looks okay. Come back for a follow-up next month.” I was flooded with relief. My mood lifted, and I even ate an extra bowl of rice that evening. Vincent came home late that night. He reeked of alcohol, his cheek was split open and bleeding, and one of his eyes was swollen shut. “Did you get into a fight?” He mumbled something and went straight to the bathroom. His work phone, which he’d tossed on the bed, buzzed with a notification. 【Erin: Vincent, thank you so much for standing up for me today. Otherwise, my ex-husband would never stop harassing me.】 【Erin: I’ve been so helpless. If it weren’t for you being there for me these past few months, my son and I wouldn’t have made it. Leo loves you so much. He waits every day for Daddy Vincent to come play. Vincent, please, give us a family.】 The words hammered at my nerves. It hurt. My whole body felt like it was about to explode. Daddy Vincent… Then who would my child call daddy? Give us a family. Then what about my family? The one thing I had longed for my entire life, a safe harbor from the storm, was gone. Torn to shreds by Vincent’s own hands. I bit my tongue, the pain forcing me to stay focused as I scrolled through their entire chat history. They had never stopped talking. They had just moved from the open to the private. From his main account to a private one filled with friends and family, where every photo with Erin and her son was met with joyful blessings. I had been abandoned. Again. 【Erin: I found a ring in the stocking. Is your girlfriend planning to propose? I can bring it back.】 【Vincent: No need. Just pretend you never saw it. I’m not ready to get married yet.】 I couldn’t maintain my composure any longer. With trembling hands, I typed a reply: 【You like being the other woman that much? You can have my trash. He’s all yours.】 “Chloe, what are you doing with my phone?!” 4 Vincent’s gentleness, his thoughtfulness—it all vanished the second I crossed a line. He yanked me so hard I stumbled. I fell against the edge of the bed. Ignoring the sharp pain in my abdomen, I scrambled up and slapped him across the face. His already swollen face grew darker. He stared at the phone in my hand. “Give it to me.” I didn’t move. He lunged for it. He grabbed my hand, prying my fingers off one by one. There was a sickening crack as my knuckles twisted at an unnatural angle. He wrenched the phone from my grasp as I cried out in pain. “You can’t unsend it, Vincent. It’s too late.” I started laughing. It was a wild, unhinged sound. “I called her a homewrecker. A slut. Does that hurt your feelings?” “Erin is a…” CRACK. I was thrown back onto the bed. The slap knocked the words right out of my throat. They tumbled down into my stomach, twisting into pain, into nausea, into thorny vines that grew and tore me apart from the inside out. My eye throbbed, swollen and hot. I wondered if it had burst. Why else would it be leaking so much warmth? It couldn’t be tears. It had to be blood. “Do you have any idea how much you’re hurting her?!” Vincent roared. “Chloe, you’re going to drive her to suicide!” “Will you only be happy when she’s dead?!” My voice was a raw whisper. “Yes.” “I hope you all die.” Vincent went to the kitchen and came back with a knife. He forced it into my hand and held it to his own throat. His eyes were crazed, ready to take us both down. “Go on. Kill me.” “If you have the guts, then do it!” “Chloe, I never said I wouldn’t marry you. I just can’t deal with Erin’s situation and you at the same time.”

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My husband wanted to run off with his mistress, so he faked a “divorce,” staged his own death, and disappeared abroad. I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream. I just quietly filed for his death certificate and erased him from the registry. Years later, his parents gave me all their money and property. That’s when he came back, desperate to claim his inheritance. He knelt before his parents, begging: “Mom, Dad, I’m your son! I’m your only heir!” Chapter 1 It started with a Reddit post I saw late one night. u/Throwaway123: “I’ve got a girl on the side and want to leave my boring wife. How do I get her to agree to a divorce without her making a fuss?” The top comment read: “Easy. Fake a job transfer abroad that requires you to be ‘single’ for visa reasons. Convince her it’s just a paper divorce. You leave, live it up with your girl, and your wife stays home taking care of your aging parents. Win-win.” I felt sick reading it. I never expected that the very next day, my husband, Mark, would come home and say: “Honey, the company is offering me a huge opportunity abroad. But there’s a catch—the visa requires proof of single status.” “We need to get a fake divorce.” The moment Mark said those words, my mind flashed back to that Reddit thread. I swallowed the disgust rising in my throat and decided to test him. “Do you have to go? The kids are small, and your parents haven’t been well…” “I have to!” He cut me off sharply. Realizing he sounded too aggressive, he softened his tone. “This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance. Two years abroad, and I come back as a manager. My salary will double. Honey, I’m doing this for us, for our family. You support me, right?” When I didn’t answer immediately, he grabbed my hand, looking deeply into my eyes. “It’s just a piece of paper. The company insists single employees are more ‘stable’ for overseas assignments. We’ll be divorced legally, but nothing changes between us. I’ll send my paycheck home every month.” “The moment I’m back, we’ll remarry. You have to trust me.” Trust him? I’d sooner trust a snake. There is no such thing as a “fake” divorce. Once that judge signs the decree, it’s done. Looking at his earnest face, whatever trust I had left for him evaporated. I didn’t need to hear anymore. I nodded. “Okay, Mark. Whatever you say.” Mark’s face lit up. “Great. No time to lose. Let’s file tomorrow.” Chapter 2 That night, after Mark fell asleep, I tried to check his phone to see who the mistress was. But he was guarding it like a dragon, sleeping with it tucked under his pillow. So, I opened Reddit instead. u/Throwaway123 had updated. “Convinced the old ball and chain to sign the papers. The plan is perfect: once I’m abroad, I’ll fake my death and go no-contact. No need to send money home. In a few years, when my parents kick the bucket and the kid is grown, I’ll come back and collect the inheritance.” The comments were full of praise, calling him a genius. I couldn’t help myself. I created a burner account and commented: “Aren’t you afraid of karma?” The replies came fast and furious. “Karma? Being stuck with a boring wife is the real karma.” “Bro, you clearly aren’t married. Domestic flowers never smell as sweet as the wild ones.” Reading the toxic filth, I deleted my comment in disgust. Mark slept soundly beside me, blowing little bubbles as he snored. The more I looked at him, the more I hated him. I reached out and slapped him across the face. He jolted awake. Before he could react, I hugged him tight. “Honey! Did you have a nightmare? It’s okay, I’m here.” He touched his cheek, confused, muttered something, and was back to snoring in seconds. Go ahead, I thought, grinding my teeth. Leave. Just don’t expect to ever come back. Chapter 3 The next day, Mark practically dragged me to the courthouse. There was a mandatory waiting period, and during that month, Mark was the model husband. He cooked, cleaned, and doted on me, terrifyingly afraid I’d change my mind. Even his parents were impressed. Our four-year-old daughter, Lily, said, “Mommy, Daddy is so nice to you. I want a husband like Daddy when I grow up.” She was too young to see the filth behind the mask. It’s okay. I’ll teach her. Words are cheap. Only tangible assets are real. When the divorce decree finally arrived, Mark snapped a photo of it immediately. u/Throwaway123: “Free at last!” He came home and started packing. He told his parents and Lily that the company was sending him on a long assignment. No one else knew we were divorced. When he left, he hugged me at the door, unable to hide his grin. “Honey, take care of Mom and Dad for me. When I get back, we’re going to live the good life.” I waved goodbye, looking every bit the reluctant wife. When I got back to our room, I checked our joint account. Empty. He had taken the $30,000 we had saved. I reached for the phone to scream at him, then stopped. That account was just a decoy. Before he started cheating, Mark handed over his paycheck, but I had always been careful. If groceries cost $200, I told him they were $500. If utilities were $150, I said $300. I skimmed off the top for years. The joint account was for show. My real savings were in a separate account only I knew about. Plus the dowry from my parents and gifts from his parents over the years… I had over $100,000 stashed away. A woman has to look out for herself. After Mark left, life went on. His last Reddit update came at the end of the month. u/Throwaway123: “Bros, starting my new life of freedom. Living the dream for you all!” Attached was a photo of two hands intertwined against a sunset. The IP address showed he was overseas. Chapter 4 I pretended to know nothing and continued caring for Lily and his parents. Two days later, my father-in-law fell. A brain hemorrhage landed him in the ICU. My mother-in-law cried as she called Mark. Thirty calls, no answer. She went to his company, only to be told there was no overseas assignment. Mark had resigned a month ago. Mark was gone. His mother panicked, threatening to call the police. That’s when I started to cry. “Mom, what do I do? I think Mark lied to me.” I “confessed” about the fake divorce. “Mom,” I sobbed, “He took all the money in the joint account. Do you think he has someone else? Did he trick me into a divorce just to run away with her?” “He took everything! Dad needs surgery money, what are we going to do?” “That animal!” My mother-in-law screamed, stomping her foot before fainting from the shock. I suppressed a smirk and paid the hospital bills from my secret stash. The surgery was successful. When my mother-in-law woke up, I was sitting by her bed, eyes red from onion fumes. “Mom, don’t worry. I’m here.” She looked at my wrist. The heavy gold bangle she gave me for my wedding was gone. “Sarah, where’s your bracelet?” I pulled my hand back, lowering my head to hide my “sadness,” revealing my bare neck where my necklace used to be. “Dad needed the surgery. Mark took all the cash, so I… I sold my jewelry. It should cover us for a while.” “Mom, don’t worry. Mark might be heartless, but you and Dad have always been good to me. I won’t abandon you.” She burst into tears, gripping my hand. “Sarah, Mark wronged you. It’s our fault for raising such a bastard.” “From now on, you are our own daughter. As far as we’re concerned, Mark is dead.” Inside, I was doing a victory dance. Outwardly, I wiped a tear. “Mom, don’t say that. You’ve always been like real parents to me.”

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At our daughter’s high school graduation party, my husband got drunk. He pulled our daughter aside, slurring his words as he drilled advice into her head. “Lily, you can date in college, but listen to me. If a guy is broke but keeps chasing you relentlessly, block him!” Lily looked confused. David let out a mysterious, knowing laugh and explained, “Because a man who truly loves you wouldn’t bear to let you suffer with him!” “And anyone who shows weakness or cries to you about their ‘childhood trauma’ to gain your sympathy? They’re just looking for a host to suck dry. Run away!” After listening to him, I didn’t sleep a wink all night. The next morning, while he was still hungover, I packed my bags and left the house. 1 It was Lily’s graduation party. David had too much whiskey. As the guests thinned out, his laughter turned into tears. The alcohol had stripped away his usual composure, leaving him an emotional wreck. I handed him a tissue to wipe his face. He shrugged his shoulder violently, dodging my hand as if my touch repulsed him. Lily walked over. “Dad, what are you doing? You’re going to make me cry too.” David immediately grabbed Lily’s hand. They leaned their foreheads together, weeping like children. I stood there, tissue in hand, completely sidelined. I couldn’t even get a word in. It took David a long time to pull himself together. He looked up, pulling a tissue for Lily this time, and started his lecture. “Lily, listen to your dad. If a guy offers nothing but sweet words and zero action, he’s a scammer.” “If he’s poor but pursues you aggressively, pass on him immediately. He’s either after your future money or he wants to drag you down into the mud with him. If he really loved you, he wouldn’t want you to struggle.” “And the ones who cry to you? The ones who talk about how broken their families are just to trigger your savior complex? Ignore them.” For every sentence David spoke, Lily nodded solemnly. They went back and forth, crying and laughing, lost in their own world for a long time. Neither of them noticed when I went back to the bedroom. I listened to David’s “wisdom” through the door as I started packing my suitcase. The next morning, when David woke up from his drunken stupor, I had already left the home I’d built for twenty years. 2 “Divorce?” David’s suppressed anger vibrated through the phone. “You need a reason, Sarah! Don’t tell me you’re jealous because I cried with Lily last night?” He let out a scoff of disbelief. “Can you stop making a scene right now? The kid is heading to college next week. We have so much to pack. Isn’t it embarrassing for a woman your age to be jealous of her own daughter?” David was an expert at making people feel nauseous. We both knew the real reason, but he chose to play dumb, framing me as an unreasonable, jealous mother. He remembered exactly what he told our daughter last night. Sweet words with no action. Poor but relentless. Crying to gain sympathy. Every single point was a description of how he chased me twenty years ago. Back then, he was broke but acted like our love was a matter of life and death. His family situation was a mess, but he told me I was his “only light,” his courage to crawl out of the abyss. I fought against my own family’s wishes to marry him when he had nothing. I suffered through the hard years with him. And now, right in front of me, he told our daughter that these behaviors were the hallmarks of a predator. He was terrified Lily would be tricked. Terrified she would end up like me—blinded by “love.” Maybe he was too drunk to remember I was there. Or maybe the mask had slipped so far he didn’t care if I heard the truth. Either way, I was done. When he told Lily, “Honey, you only live once, I want you to be selfish,” I made up my mind. No one understood my decision. Shortly after I hung up on David, my best friend, Jess, called. “Hahaha, Sarah, you’re hilarious! Jealous of your own kid? That’s a new low!” “You don’t know how good you have it. Your husband is obsessed with your daughter. My husband is a deadbeat dad who doesn’t lift a finger.” I could hear the noise of a dinner party in the background. “Sarah, stop acting up and go home. David spoiled you too much. This is just the smell of too much love!” “Exactly, Sarah! Come back. David isn’t even asking us to convince you; he’s basically bragging about how close you two are. Most couples our age don’t even touch, let alone fight like lovers.” The atmosphere on the other end was jovial. David was playing the role of the good-natured, henpecked husband perfectly. “Stop teasing her,” David’s voice came through, smooth and fake. “Sarah has thin skin.” “Aww, look at him protecting her!” The suffocating feeling in my chest grew heavier. “David knows exactly why I want a divorce,” I said coldly into the phone. “We’re decent people. I just want a clean break. There’s no need to air our dirty laundry.” The other end was too loud; the “peacemakers” ignored my tone, assuming I was just throwing a tantrum. I hung up and texted David: Don’t contact me until you agree to sign the papers. 3 Lily couldn’t believe it either. “Mom, are you really divorcing Dad because he loves me more?” There was a hint of resentment in her sobbing voice. I patiently explained that I was glad her father loved her. Being loved was the best thing for her. “But Mom, you know you’re almost fifty, right?” My heart sank. My voice turned cold. “I recall your father telling you last night that you only live once and should have the courage to follow your heart. You agreed with him then.” “You’re an adult now, Lily. Mom just wants to follow her heart for once.” “…But…” Lily couldn’t understand. I cut her off. There were no “buts.” I simply refused to spend the rest of my life in an environment of double standards. David hadn’t cheated. He hadn’t committed a crime. But the micro-aggressions, the subtle neglect over twenty years, had suffocated me. It started when Lily was small. Once, we were reading in bed. David was tickling Lily’s feet under the covers. They were laughing. Then David accidentally grabbed my foot. The look of disgust on his face was instant. He threw my foot aside and jokingly said, “Ew, smelly.” Lily laughed. I couldn’t. David went to wash his hands. I remembered how, when we were dating, he used to warm my cold feet against his stomach in winter. When I confronted him, he said adults have bacteria and he didn’t want to infect Lily. He ended the argument with, “You almost died giving birth to her. How can I not love her with everything I have?” It was a statement full of holes, but I forced myself to believe it. Over the years, the difference in treatment became the norm. When he came home, he’d hug Lily enthusiastically, then bump my shoulder without looking at me. If Lily spoke, he listened intently. If I spoke, he was perfunctory. If food was “too cold” (in the Chinese medicine sense), he’d snatch it from Lily and dump it on my plate. He told me love transforms into duty and guardianship. I believed him. But his drunken truth-telling exposed my twenty-year marriage for what it was: A scam. It didn’t start with love. It started with calculation. 4 I stopped answering David’s calls. I told him I’d meet him only to sign the papers. But things spiraled out of control. While scrolling TikTok, I saw David on a livestream with a popular relationship guru, “Coach Chloe.” I followed her account. She often discussed parenting teenagers. David knew I’d see it. David’s voice was deep, full of confusion and sorrow. “I just want my wife to come home so we can talk. If she’s jealous of our daughter, I can change. I can change anything. I just don’t want her to run away like a teenager.” “Our daughter leaves for college in a week. I just want her to put aside her anger for the child’s sake.” Then, Lily’s voice came through the speaker. “Mom, I can’t reach you. I know you watch this stream. Please come home. I promise I won’t fight for Dad’s attention anymore.” The livestream exploded. Comments flooded in: “Jealous of her own daughter??” “Classic narcissist mom!” Coach Chloe froze, processing the drama. “Poor child,” she finally said. “Listen to me, honey. Do not cry. This is not your fault.” She raised her voice. “No child should have to bear the burden of their mother running away because she’s jealous of her father’s love!” “Your mother’s jealousy is pathological. She is forcing you to participate in her mental illness. Sacrificing a daughter’s happiness for her ego is pure selfishness!” Coach Chloe leaned into the camera, her face filling the screen. David interrupted, playing the saint. “Please don’t say that about her. I just want her to come home. We can solve this privately.” “Privately?” Chloe scoffed. “Look at you, defending her even now. Honestly, sir, you enabled this. You spoiled your wife like a child, so now she competes with your actual child!” She took a deep breath and addressed the camera directly. “To the wife watching this: I don’t know how you prioritize love and family. But ask yourself, if your parents and your husband were sick, who would you help first? Your parents, right? So why do you demand your husband put you above his own flesh and blood?” “You are selfish, self-centered, and sick.” The comments were cheering her on. “Drag her!” “She has Princess Syndrome!” Coach Chloe continued her tirade. “You’re nearly fifty, yet you act like a toddler. Your husband protected you too well. So I’ll say what he won’t.” “Read a book. Find yourself. Stop making your husband your entire world. You are suffocating your family. Your husband is miserable. Your daughter is traumatized.” “Recognize this: You are the problem. You are not a normal mother. Stop trying to manipulate your family with these stunts!” The stream’s numbers skyrocketed. Chloe ranted for twenty minutes. I was flayed alive by strangers. In the end, Chloe gifted David and Lily books. One for me, to “broaden my horizons,” and one for Lily, to “heal her trauma.” Lily thanked her.

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1 The night of my engagement party, there was a knock on my apartment door. A little boy stood in the hallway. “Mom, I’ve traveled back from eight years in the future. I’m your son…” My first instinct was to call the police. But then, the boy’s tears splashed onto the marble floor. He clutched the hem of the gown I hadn’t even had a chance to change out of. “Mom, you absolutely cannot marry Dad.” “If you go near him, your life is over. In two weeks, you’ll be in a stunt-wire accident on set and be paralyzed for life.” “He’ll marry you, sure, but he’ll ice you out, driving you into a severe depression until you finally jump from the roof of your company building.” “The person he truly loves is his agent, Sophia Collins.” My fingers, holding my phone, went rigid. “He left the engagement party early tonight because Sophia’s cat had a sudden heart attack.” “If you don’t believe me, he’s at her apartment right now. Come with me, and you’ll see that I’m telling the truth!” 2 Sean scooped up a small pebble from the walkway and hurled it against the steel door of Sophia’s apartment. I huddled in the shadows of the stairwell, my nails digging so deep into my palms that beads of blood welled up. I couldn’t feel a thing. The moment the door opened, all the blood in my body felt like it was rushing backward. Landon Price was there. Of course, he was. He was wearing loose gray sweats, his hair still damp. Tonight, after a single phone call, he’d just gestured at me and abandoned me at our own engagement party, leaving me to face a barrage of flashbulbs and the knowing stares of our guests all by myself. Three hours later, a text finally came through: an urgent matter with the film crew. And this “urgent matter” was him, in sweats, at his agent’s apartment, looking after her sick cat. My heart clenched violently. Landon saw no one at the door. He glanced down at the pebble on the ground, his brow furrowing. “Landon, honey? Who is it?” Sophia’s voice drifted from inside, sticky sweet like melting caramel. “No one. Probably just a neighborhood kid playing a prank.” Sophia emerged, cradling a fluffy white Ragdoll cat. The neckline of her silk slip dress hung low, revealing the delicate black lace edge of her bra. In that instant, my legs nearly gave out. A chill shot through me, cold and sharp. I had seen that lingerie before. On the couch in my own living room. The exact same set. Landon had told me it was a new gift from a designer brand. Now I knew the truth. Sophia must have left it behind during one of their trysts at my place. He actually expected me to wear something Sophia had worn. A wave of nausea washed over me. I doubled over, gagging, but nothing came up. Only tears, hot and uncontrollable, streamed down my face. A window in the hallway was open, and the night wind whipped through, making my whole body tremble, my teeth chatter. Sophia shivered theatrically. Landon immediately wrapped his arms around her, his voice so gentle it could have been liquid. “It’s cold out here. Let’s go back inside.” “Mmm,” Sophia purred, her voice soft and kittenish. “Mochi’s lost her appetite after the surgery. The only thing she wants is the special meal you make for her.” A small smile touched Landon’s lips. “Alright. I’ll make it for her.” I completely fell apart. My heart felt like it was being sawed through with a dull blade, over and over again. So, he did know how to cook. Last month, when my stomach ulcer flared up and I was curled in a ball of pain, I’d tugged on his sleeve, begging him to make me a simple bowl of soup. Just a plain broth with noodles. He had yanked his hand away, his face a cold mask. “An Oscar-winning actor slaving away in a kitchen? What would that look like?” Now I understood. His cooking was good enough for a cat. But not for me. The door clicked shut, plunging the world into a dead silence. I crumpled into a heap in the cold corner of the stairwell, tears blurring all the light into streaks and halos. Sean wrapped his small arms around me, holding me tight. “Don’t cry, Mommy. He’s not worth it.” 3 Landon didn’t come home that night. I lay awake, staring into the darkness. Sean was beside me, his small hand gripping my fingers tightly, not letting go even in his sleep. I looked at his little face, a perfect blend of my features and Landon’s, and my heart was a raging sea. I sent Landon a text: We’re over. He didn’t reply. He didn’t show up. He was gone for a whole week. I finally went to his agency to find him, only to be told he’d flown to Utah for a film festival. “He went with Sophia, his agent. They travel together for work all the time,” the young woman at the front desk added, her eyes holding a faint, unmistakable glint of pity. Landon was a workaholic. Vanishing for a week like this wasn’t unheard of. I turned to Sean. “Every time he disappears, he’s with Sophia, isn’t he?” Sean’s eyes darkened as he nodded. “I found a travel album in Dad’s safe, in his study.” “It was full of pictures of him and Sophia from all over the world… the Northern Lights in Iceland, the snow in Hokkaido, a gondola in Venice…” A bitter laugh escaped my lips as I fought back the stinging in my nose. Landon hated when I visited him at the office, hated being disturbed while he was working. Over time, we’d developed a ridiculous, unspoken agreement. When he was off the grid, I wouldn’t send a single text, wouldn’t make a single call. I wouldn’t try to find out where he was through anyone else. He knew this. He counted on it. And while I was at home, worrying if he was eating properly or getting enough rest, he was with Sophia, watching the aurora in Iceland, relaxing in hot springs in Japan, floating through the canals of Venice. I trusted him. And he took that trust and sharpened it into the deadliest of blades, using it to slice me apart, piece by piece. I turned to leave, my steps unsteady. From behind me, I heard the hushed chatter of a few employees. “Tsk, she really acts like she’s the First Lady, coming here to check up on him.” “Everyone knows Landon and Sophia are the real power couple. Some people will use a little family history to force a marriage. It’s disgusting.” “I heard her parents died saving Landon, right? Isn’t that just emotional blackmail?” I froze. Suddenly, the entire situation felt absurdly twisted. If Landon hadn’t allowed this version of the story to circulate, if he and Sophia hadn’t paraded around the office like a couple, how could his own employees possibly think that I was the other woman, the one breaking them up? 4 I packed every single thing Landon had ever left at my apartment into boxes and had them couriered directly to Sophia’s address. That night, he came back. With Sophia. And her cat. “I’ve already fired the employees who were talking nonsense,” he began, his voice raspy with exhaustion as he reached for my hand. “Sophia and I were just at the festival. The schedule was insane, I honestly didn’t have a second to call you.” “It’s my fault. I’ll change. From now on, no matter how busy I am, I’ll check in with you every day, okay?” His face was drawn, with dark circles under his eyes, his gaze shot through with red veins. He looked like he’d been completely wrung out by work, which only made me seem like the one being unreasonable. I pulled my hand away, my voice cold. “You don’t have to explain. We’re done.” Landon sighed, a long, weary sound. “Don’t say things you don’t mean. I know you’re just angry I left you alone at the party. That text about breaking up… I’m just going to pretend I never saw it.” “And don’t worry,” he added, his expression earnest. “I promise, on our wedding day, nothing will go wrong.” Looking at his confident face, a wave of icy sarcasm washed over me. Sophia chose that moment to speak, her tone meek. “Evelyn, Landon specifically brought me here to explain things to you.” “We really were just working. He was sleeping three or four hours a night, just so he could get back to you sooner. Look, he’s even lost weight.” As she spoke, a glint of silver from her collarbone caught my eye. I lunged forward and snatched the chain from her neck. Turning to a stunned Landon, I held it up. “Then how do you explain this?” It was his grandmother’s heirloom locket, which she’d left to him on her deathbed for his future wife. At our engagement party, I’d asked him to put it on me. He had kissed my forehead and said, “I want to be the one to put this on you on our wedding day.” And now, here it was, hanging around Sophia’s neck. Sophia’s eyes instantly filled with tears, her expression frantic. She dropped to her knees with a thud. “It was a moment of weakness… I saw it on the counter when Landon was showering and I… I just tried it on for a second…” It was a laughably bad lie. Landon never took that locket off, and he certainly wouldn’t leave it carelessly on a bathroom counter. He knew I wouldn’t buy it. His whole demeanor shifted, the warmth in his eyes freezing over. “Evelyn, why do you have to drag everything out into the light?” he said, his voice flat. “Isn’t it better for everyone if you just pretend you don’t know?” “And you can drop the act. No matter what, I’m still going to marry you.” Landon helped Sophia to her feet, his thumb gently wiping a tear from the corner of her eye right in front of me. All the grief and betrayal that had been building inside me erupted like a flash flood, washing away my last shred of sanity. I surged forward and slapped Landon hard across the face. Then I spun around and slapped Sophia just as hard. The Ragdoll cat, startled, let out a sharp “Meow!” and leaped from Sophia’s arms, its sharp claws sinking into my leg. A searing pain shot through my skin, and I instinctively kicked the animal away. The cat let out a piercing shriek. “Mochi!” Sophia’s sob was heart-wrenching. The next thing I knew, a brutal kick landed in my stomach. Landon’s eyes were savage, like he wanted to tear me apart. “Evelyn, how could you be so vicious? It’s just a cat!” I stared at him, my lips bitten raw, a cold sweat breaking out across my body from the throbbing pain in my abdomen. Landon’s brow furrowed in annoyance. “Stop being so dramatic. It was just one kick.” “Mommy!” Sean suddenly burst out of the bedroom. Landon’s gaze turned to ice. He violently grabbed Sean. “Who is this? Why is he calling you Mommy?” Ignoring the searing pain, I threw myself at Landon, sinking my teeth into his wrist. He cried out and his grip loosened. I snatched Sean and pulled him into a protective embrace. The sight seemed to enrage him further. His eyes turned a frightening shade of red, his jaw clenched so tight I could hear his teeth grinding. “Evelyn. You cheated on me?” Just as he was about to press further, Sophia screamed. “Landon! Mochi… she’s not breathing!” Landon spun around instantly. Before he left, he shot one last sentence at me over his shoulder. “If that cat doesn’t make it, I will never forgive you.” I watched him and Sophia rush out, and all the strength drained from my body. I collapsed onto the floor. Sean was frantic, tears streaming down his face. “Mommy, don’t fall asleep! Don’t leave me again!” I wanted to lift my hand to wipe his tears away, but my arm felt impossibly heavy. Just before I lost consciousness, I saw Sean expertly grab my phone, dial 911, and clearly state our address. 5 I woke up in a hospital bed. The doctor told me I was pregnant. Looking down at my flat stomach, a strange, wondrous feeling bloomed inside me. A new life, this boy’s life, was growing right here. But Sean’s face was a mask of terror. “Mommy, please don’t marry him for my sake. I would rather have never existed than see you suffer like that again.” “Mommy, please… give up on me!” he cried, burying his face in my chest. I held him tight, my heart aching so intensely it was hard to breathe. I had only known Sean for a few days, but he already felt like a part of me, a piece of my own heart that I could never bear to cut away. Suddenly, the door to my room burst open. Landon’s bodyguards stormed in, forcefully dragging both me and Sean to a high-end veterinary clinic. The Ragdoll cat lay stiffly on an operating table. One of the bodyguards kicked the back of my knees, forcing me to the ground. The moment Sophia saw me, she flew into a rage, her hands flying as she slapped me again and again. “You killed Mochi! You murdered her!” “Mochi had a heart condition! The vet said she had a month to live, at most… You sped it up! You killed her!” “I’m going to kill you!” She yanked my hair, slapped my face, and clawed at my skin with her nails. Landon stood by, a complicated expression on his face, but he didn’t intervene. “Just let Sophia get it out of her system,” he said coolly. “After all, you were the one who got physical first.” Sean struggled furiously in a guard’s grip. “You witch! Don’t you hurt my mom!” “Mom?” Sophia’s crazed eyes landed on Sean. She grabbed his face, tilting it from side to side. Suddenly, a chilling, unhinged laugh escaped her lips. “Landon, look at him. His eyes, his brow… he’s the spitting image of Evelyn.” “He must be the bastard child from that night eight years ago!” The color drained from both my face and Landon’s. That night, Landon’s birthday eight years ago, had been the darkest moment of my life. I was nearly assaulted in a hotel room. When I finally escaped, clothes torn and spirit shattered, and made it home, I was met with a tower of flames. My family’s old house was being devoured by fire. My parents, thinking I was trapped inside, had rushed into the inferno without a second thought. They managed to drag a drunk and unconscious Landon to safety, but they never made it out themselves. Afterward, Landon beat the man who attacked me half to death. I told him, I swore to him, that the man hadn’t succeeded. He said he believed me. But looking at his face now, I knew he never had. My eyes burned with unshed tears as I stared at him, forcing the words through my teeth. “He is not!” He looks like you, too, I wanted to scream. Can’t you see that, Landon? Landon’s fists clenched at his sides. He took a deep, steadying breath. “It doesn’t matter anymore…” Then, he lunged, grabbing Sean by the collar of his shirt. He threw open a nearby window and dangled the boy outside. My blood ran cold. “Landon, what are you doing?!” His face was a blank mask. “Mochi needs a proper resting place. Your parents’ plot at Hillside Memorial has a nice view. We’ll bury her there.” “I’ll find your parents a much better plot somewhere else. You owe Mochi this.” I couldn’t breathe. I was shaking with a rage so profound it felt like it would tear me apart. “Landon, are you even human? My parents died because of—” “I know!” he snapped, cutting me off, a vicious glint in his eyes. “You don’t have to keep reminding me. The fact that I agreed to marry you, that I haven’t celebrated my own birthday in eight years, should be more than enough.” “I’m telling you this now as a courtesy.” His gaze shifted to Sean, dangling precariously from his hand. His eyes darkened. “So you choose. Him, or your parents’ grave.” “Three… two…” “The child! I choose the child!” I screamed, my heart feeling like it was being ripped from my chest. Mom, Dad, I’m so sorry! Landon’s lips thinned into a hard line, as if displeased with my choice. He tossed Sean back into the room like a sack of trash. Then, he turned and gently lifted the lifeless cat into his arms. He spared one last glance at me and Sean before walking out without another word. Sophia stood over me, a triumphant smirk on her lips. “The man from eight years ago? I arranged for him to be there.” “You monster!” I shrieked, trying to lunge at her, but Landon’s bodyguards held me fast to the floor. Sophia crouched down, her sharp nails poking my cheek. “And here’s another little secret… I was in the house that night, too…” My eyes were bloodshot. “You set the fire?” “Not me,” she cooed, her smile widening into a grotesque grin. “Your mother just had some bad luck. A bookshelf fell on her. Your father could have gotten out, but he insisted on going back for her.” “Landon was trying to pull me away. He said, ‘Forget them, let’s go!’” “The sound of your parents screaming… tsk, tsk. So tragic…” Every word was a poisoned dagger, flaying me alive. I let out a raw, animalistic howl. An explosion of pain erupted from my chest and tore through my throat, and I coughed, spewing a mouthful of blood. 6 When I came to, I was back in the hospital. Sean’s eyes were swollen shut from crying. He threw himself into my arms. “Mommy, we don’t need Daddy anymore! We never want to see him again!” I held him close. “Okay,” I whispered. “We don’t need him.” A few days later, Landon called. His tone was not a request, but a command. “Mochi’s burial is tomorrow morning. Be there to collect your parents’ ashes.” My voice was ice. “Fine.” There was a sudden silence on the other end of the line. After a long moment, his voice softened. “After Mochi’s service is taken care of, we’ll go try on wedding dresses, okay?” I let out a cold laugh and hung up. The next day, standing at the gates of Hillside Memorial Park, my feet felt like they were encased in lead. Sean held my hand. “Mommy, the stunt-wire accident is supposed to be tomorrow. Can we please just leave this city? Please?” My voice was thick with tears. “Okay. We’ll take Grandpa and Grandma with us, and we’ll all go somewhere new.” But just then, a black SUV came screaming around the corner, barreling straight for us. “No! The car crash isn’t supposed to happen today!” Sean’s eyes went wide with terror. He shoved me with all his might. “Mommy!”

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1 I won ten million dollars in the lottery. The next thing I knew, my best friend was sobbing, telling me she’d been reborn. “Oh, thank God, Jenna! We have to use this money to stockpile supplies. In one month, the zombie apocalypse is going to hit.” “Last time, we didn’t have anything, and the zombies got us. We can’t let that happen again!” My best friend, Maya, helped me build a safe house in a desolate area far from the city. She even coordinated a fleet of trucks to deliver tons of rice, flour, and oil. The ten million was gone in a flash, but we had enough supplies to last us for decades. I squeezed her hand, overwhelmed with gratitude. But then, she burst out laughing. “Hahaha! I was just kidding! Rebirth? Zombies? Do you think this is some kind of novel?” “I can’t believe you actually fell for it. You are so, so stupid.” I swallowed the words I was about to say, the ones that would have begged her to stay. Her rebirth might have been a lie, but mine was real. And the zombie apocalypse was really coming. … Maya was still laughing, slapping her thighs and doubling over. Seeing me standing there in stunned silence, she patted my shoulder condescendingly. “Hey, it’s just ten million dollars. Who asked you to be so gullible? You can’t even take a joke.” She didn’t seem to grasp how cruel her “joke” was. If I hadn’t been reborn, if this was my first time through… I would have spent my entire lottery winnings on a useless villa in the middle of nowhere, filled with food that would spoil within weeks. I think the shock might have killed me on the spot. “So it’s a little isolated, but it’s quiet, right? And you love quiet,” she said, then theatrically covered her mouth. “Oh my God, Jenna, I just remembered! You’ve always wanted to get residency in Southwood, but this property is technically in Northgate…” “So I guess you’ll have to settle for Northgate residency. But hey, it’s close enough to Southwood, right? You’re not going to be petty and get mad at me over that, are you?” She looked at me with wide, innocent eyes. Northgate was a stagnant, underdeveloped district, while Southwood was the city’s crown jewel, with the best schools and hospitals. I’d always dreamed of settling there, for my aging parents and for the family I hoped to have one day. In my past life, I never could afford a place in Southwood, not even when the apocalypse hit. I ended up renting with Maya the whole time. “No,” I said. Residency wouldn’t matter much after the world ended. I was just having a hard time believing it. In my previous life, I hadn’t won the lottery. When the apocalypse came, we had no food, and I never developed any powers. Life for two ordinary women was brutal. But we never gave up on each other. We stuck together, searching for supplies, looking for a safe zone. Then we ran into a group of heavily armed men. I remember Maya crying, just like she had today. “You have to hide,” she had told me. “Don’t come out, no matter what. It’s the apocalypse now. Women without powers are just toys for men.” “I’ll lead them away. If I survive, I’ll come back for you.” I never saw her again. I assumed she had died for me. I carried that debt with me, so the moment I was reborn, I rushed to the lottery vendor. I bought a ticket with the winning numbers I’d overheard in my past life, and the first person I told was her. I remember the stiff way she’d said, “Congratulations.” At the time, I thought she was just stunned with happiness. “Maya, why would you lie to me?” I had to ask. With ten million dollars, I would have shared everything with her. Why go to such lengths? She rolled her eyes, her voice dripping with acid. “We were both broke. Why should you get to be rich all of a sudden? It’s not fair.” So it was jealousy. “Come on, why are you still dwelling on it? If you think you can’t eat all this food by yourself,” she offered, “I guess I could stay here with you for a while. But…” She snickered, clearly enjoying my misfortune. “Those bags of rice and flour will probably be crawling with bugs in three days.” “Get out,” I said, my voice cold. Maya blinked. “What did you say?” “I said, get the hell out. Is that clear enough?” Her face flushed with anger. “Jenna, I’m your best friend! How can you talk to me like that?” I laughed, a harsh, humorless sound. “A best friend who would trick me into wasting ten million dollars? Don’t flatter yourself. You were just jealous that I had money.” A flicker of guilt crossed her eyes, but she quickly suppressed it. “It was a joke! It’s your own fault for being stupid enough to believe it!” “Fine. If you don’t want my company, you can stay here all by yourself,” she sneered. “This place is in the middle of nowhere. There aren’t even any taxis. Let’s see how you get back to the city. Don’t come crying to me, begging for a ride.” As her car sped away, kicking up a cloud of dust, a small smile touched my lips. The apocalypse hits in three days. We’ll see who’s begging who. My safe house was built like a fortress. Every detail had been meticulously planned by Maya and me. The perimeter wall was thirty feet high, topped with an electric fence and razor wire to keep out mutated zombies. We had generators, rice, flour, oil, and a whole menagerie of livestock: chickens, ducks, geese, cows, sheep, pigs, and even a fish pond. From air conditioners and heaters to Wi-Fi and power banks, we hadn’t missed a thing. I had enough supplies to throw a hot pot party on a whim. Thinking back, the more detailed and careful Maya had been in the planning, the more she must have relished the thought of the big reveal, the moment she could laugh at how utterly foolish I had been. The first thing I did was call my parents and tell them to get on the next flight from their hometown. Then, I called my boyfriend of two years, Ken. He’d always been good to me. In my past life, he was infected and turned while trying to get back to me. A tragic hero. “Ken—” I barely got his name out before his angry voice exploded from the other end. “Ten million dollars, Jenna! How could you be so stupid? You actually fell for Maya’s joke and blew it all?” “I wouldn’t have even known if she hadn’t come and told me! Do you have any idea what people are saying? The whole story is all over social media!” “Everyone’s calling me the boyfriend of a rich idiot who doesn’t know what to do with her money. You’ve completely humiliated me.” “Why didn’t you tell me you won? Why are you so stupid? So pathetic?” He had never spoken to me like that before. It was true what they say—money really does reveal a person’s true character. Ten million dollars was a life-changing amount of money, a fantasy for ordinary people like us. I wanted to tell him about the apocalypse, to calm him down, but before I could get a word in, he launched into another tirade. “I’ve always thought you were an idiot! We’re supposed to be in love, and you have the nerve to ask for a two hundred thousand dollar bride price!” “I’m not some trust fund kid! My mom is a beautiful woman, and she didn’t even ask my dad for that much when they got married.” I understood his implication. I wasn’t as beautiful as his mother, so I had no right to ask for so much. Two hundred thousand was customary in our culture. The money would have come back to us as part of my dowry, and my parents were even planning on matching it. I had explained all of this to him before, and he had agreed. “So what are you trying to say now?” I snapped, my own anger rising. “We’re breaking up,” Ken said coldly. “I don’t want to be known as the idiot’s boyfriend. I have never met anyone as stupid as you.” “If you had just given me that ten million, I wouldn’t have had to worry about the bride price. I could have bought a car, a house, given you a comfortable life.” “But you had to go and screw it all up. I guess you’re just not destined for a good life.” “I know your parents are in Southwood now. I’m coming to pick you up. We’ll settle this, and you can give me back the ten-thousand-and-one-dollar engagement gift.” He hung up, his disgust palpable. It hurt, I won’t lie. But his little outburst had shown me his true colors. He arrived as I was feeding the chickens in the yard. Now that we were breaking up, he didn’t even bother pretending to be nice. “Looks like you really are meant to be a poor country girl. You’ve got no luck with money. You should just go back to your village and raise chickens.” I didn’t waste my breath arguing. I’m not the type to drag things out. I met him with my parents and gave him back the engagement money. Even after he got the money, he couldn’t resist a final, snide remark to my parents. “Sir, Ma’am, if you have any money, you’d better not let Jenna handle it. If someone tells her a joke about aliens invading, she might just spend your life savings on a ‘spaceship’.” My parents looked confused. I just stared at him, my face a blank mask, and shut the door on him. “What happened with you and Ken?” my mom asked. “Everything seemed fine. Why the sudden breakup?” “And you told us to bring everything important with us,” my dad added. “What’s going on?” I was about to explain when the door burst open. Maya rushed in and threw her arms around my mom. “Mom, Dad! Why didn’t you tell me you were coming to Southwood?” she chirped, using the affectionate terms she always had for my parents. My mom smiled, but when she saw the look on my face—the distinct lack of my usual delight at seeing Maya—her smile faded, and she said nothing. “What’s this?” Maya snatched a gift box from my dad’s hand and ripped it open. Inside was a designer handbag. “Jenna’s been wanting this for months, but she never got around to buying it. Your mom and I saw it in the store and decided to get it for her,” my dad explained. A flash of jealousy crossed Maya’s face. “Tsk, tsk. Dad, you bought the wrong thing. Jenna’s not into this stuff anymore.” “She’s into raising chickens and ducks now. You should have bought her some feed…” Seeing the bewildered expressions on my parents’ faces, Maya burst out laughing. “Oh, you guys don’t know, do you? Jenna won ten million dollars, but she spent it all on a stupid villa in the middle of nowhere.” “And a bunch of other useless junk. Blew through the whole ten million. Can you believe how dumb she is?” My parents’ faces fell. Maya, encouraged, was about to continue, but I grabbed her arm and shoved her out the door. She was so damn annoying. She scrambled to her feet, furious. “Jenna! Your parents didn’t even kick me out! What gives you the right—” “Get out!” my mom snapped, slamming the door shut. I told my parents everything. I was nervous they wouldn’t believe me. “Dad, Mom, it’s all true. In two days, the zombie apocalypse is going to start.” My dad stood up immediately. “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go buy more supplies.” My mom stroked my hair. “Silly girl, of course we believe you. We’ve saved up a little nest egg over the years. Looks like it’s going to come in handy.” After being called an idiot over and over for the past few days, having someone finally believe me brought tears to my eyes. “Dad, Mom, thank you for trusting me.” My parents had fifty thousand dollars in savings. We bought a used pickup truck, more food, and a variety of seeds. Back at the safe house, my dad got to work with the lawnmower, cutting down all the tall grass in the surrounding area to use as feed for the livestock. My mom cleared a patch of land for a vegetable garden. We had even hired someone to dig a well in the yard ahead of time. That night, as I lay in bed, I saw Maya’s latest social media post. [Day 1 with my love. Thanks for the designer bag and necklace, babe. Love you forever.] It was a picture of her hand intertwined with a man’s. I recognized the mole on his hand instantly. It was Ken’s. It stung a little, but mostly, I felt a sense of relief. What kind of decent guy moves on that fast? I was lucky to be rid of him. The next morning, my dad announced he was going out. “Supplies aren’t enough. When the world ends, people lose their humanity. We need something for self-defense.” “Your grandfather had an old friend who deals in that sort of thing. I’m going to go see him.” I knew who he was talking about. I was hoping we could get him on our side. He had a team of highly-trained bodyguards, and in the coming world, security would be everything. Unfortunately, Mr. Foster, the old friend, was not convinced. “My sources are generally more reliable than yours, and I’ve heard nothing. Not even a whisper.” I refused to give up. “Mr. Foster, what my dad and I are telling you is the absolute truth. The apocalypse will be here in six hours.” “You can bring your family to my safe house. Wait six hours. You’ll see for yourself. If I’m wrong, you’ve lost nothing but a bit of time. If I’m right… well, you know the consequences.” The Foster estate was in the heart of Southwood’s busiest district. A high concentration of people, especially powerful people, meant it would be one of the most dangerous places to be. Just as I thought I had failed, Mr. Foster’s grandson, Alex, walked in. “Why not give it a try? Grandpa, you’re always saying you miss the country air. Think of it as a six-hour vacation.” A glimmer of hope sparked within me, but it was extinguished by a snort of laughter from the doorway. Maya and Ken were standing there, bent over with mirth. “You guys are actually listening to this idiot? Hahaha.” “She blew through ten million dollars, and now she’s trying to drag you down with her to make herself feel better.” “An apocalypse? Zombies? Have you been reading too many fantasy novels?” I saw the change in Mr. Foster’s expression and my heart sank. It was over. The Fosters gave my dad three rifles, some body armor, a few grenades, and some basic supplies. When Maya saw us loading up the truck, she looked at my parents with a mixture of pity and disgust. “Mom, Dad, Jenna’s had a mental breakdown. I’ll be honest with you,” she said, her voice dripping with false concern. “The zombie apocalypse was just a joke I made up. She can’t accept that the ten million is gone, so she’s lost her mind.” “Are you really going to let her waste all your money? I heard you’ve been buying a lot of stuff.” I crossed my arms and smirked. “That’s right. My parents spent fifty grand on me. What’s it to you? Jealous again?” Maya shot me a glare, then turned on the charm, sidling up to my mom. “Mom, I’m serious. You promised you’d buy me a present when you came to Southwood. Let’s go shopping now.” “We can’t let Jenna spend all your money. She’s—” My mom pushed her away. “I’m not your mom, so don’t call me that. And it’s my money. My daughter can spend it however she wants. It’s not called wasting.” Maya’s face turned an ugly shade of green. She stomped her foot. “Not wasting? Are you old and senile?” “All that useless junk she bought will rot in ten days. And that stupid villa is in the middle of nowhere. You won’t even be able to sell it.” “I’m trying to help you, and you’re pushing me away? Fine! We’ll see what you do when the money’s gone and the food is spoiled!” “When you’re starving and homeless, don’t you dare come begging me for help!” she shrieked, then stormed off. Ken gave me a cold look. “Your family had fifty thousand dollars, and you still made me work my ass off for a bride price? You’re a heartless bitch.” “What my family does with its money is none of your damn business,” I retorted, slipping off my shoe and hurling it at his face. “Who the hell do you think you are? Shut your stupid mouth and get lost.” I thought that was the end of it with the Fosters, but just as my dad and I got back to the safe house, they pulled up behind us. Mr. Foster leaned on his cane, surveying the property with a look of mild approval. “Since my grandson trusts you, I’ll stay for six hours. Call it a vacation. The scenery is quite nice.” “When I was young, your grandfather and I used to love raising chickens and playing chess.” I didn’t know why Alex had believed me, but I was grateful. The Fosters had brought a large contingent of their security team, and their presence was a huge relief. I shot Alex a thankful look. He paused, then a faint smile touched his lips. “If the apocalypse doesn’t come, my grandfather will probably break my legs. Then you’ll be in trouble.” “Don’t you worry, Mr. Foster,” I joked. “If that happens, I’ll personally nurse you back to health until you’re jumping for joy.” “…” One hour before the apocalypse. My dad and I had just finished butchering a cow and were setting up the grill in the yard when Maya video-called me. “Jenna, look where I am.” Behind her, a sea of people swayed under flashing lights. It was ‘Oblivion,’ Southwood’s most famous nightclub. And the epicenter of the initial outbreak in my past life. “Ken proposed to me today,” she crowed. “It was even bigger and better than when he proposed to you.” “Look at all these people! They’re all congratulating us.” “And he spent a whole year’s salary on my ring! It’s way bigger than the one he gave you.” I watched her hand wave in front of the camera, but my attention was caught by a figure in the background. He was hunched over, his movements slow and jerky, not like a normal person at all. Before I could get a better look, Maya flipped the camera back to her face. “Jenna, don’t be mad at me anymore. Come be my maid of honor.” “It was just a joke. Are you really going to hold a grudge for this long? I’m asking you because I really do see you as a friend.” “You’re not mad that Ken chose me, are you? I can’t help it that you asked for such a high bride price.” “Besides, him choosing me just proves he loves me more. It’s not my fault. Why are you blaming me?” Her words were so ridiculous I had to laugh. I hung up. Thirty minutes later, a bartender from Oblivion posted a video to his social media. Amidst screams of terror, a man was pinning a small woman to the floor, tearing at her flesh with his teeth. The zombie apocalypse had begun.

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Rumor had it that Old Man Silas, the billionaire tycoon, built a golden palace specifically to house a collection of one hundred wives. After forcefully acquiring ninety-nine women, he set his sights on me—pregnant and married. The day I was sent away, our housekeeper knelt on the floor, begging my husband. “Sir, please reconsider! They say Old Man Silas is a monster. If the Madam goes, the baby… the baby won’t survive!” My husband, Julian, looked at her coldly. “Silas asked for her specifically. She has to go. If the baby dies, it dies. I won’t divorce her. When she comes back, she’ll still be Mrs. Sterling. We can always have another child.” In my past life, I fought tooth and nail not to go. In the end, Julian’s assistant, Chloe, volunteered to take my place. When she returned, she slit her wrists. The autopsy revealed she had been pregnant too. Julian held his rage until the day I gave birth. Then, he walked to the hospital rooftop and threw our newborn son off the edge. That was when I realized he had hated me every second of our marriage. Reborn into this moment, I didn’t struggle. I calmly stepped into the luxury car sent by Old Man Silas. 1 “Did you hear? Silas demanded the Madam personally, or he’d bankrupt the company! The Master already agreed.” “Silas is over sixty and a known pervert. Going to his ‘palace’ is a death sentence… How can the Master just watch her jump into the fire?” “Well, that’s the power of a first love, isn’t it? If it were Chloe going, the Master would let the company burn before handing her over!” The whispers of the maids drifted through the half-open door of the living room. Mrs. Potts, who was packing my clothes, couldn’t hold back. “Madam, don’t listen to them! Go beg the Master! You’re husband and wife, he can’t be that heartless!” I smiled helplessly. “It’s useless.” Everyone in our circle knew Silas was untouchable and ruthless. Julian would never offend Silas for me. I knew that much. In my past life, the moment Julian heard Silas’s demand, he agreed without hesitation. To make me go willingly, he feigned deep affection, spinning lies about sacrificing the company for me. Just as my resolve wavered, I saw him kissing his “first love,” Chloe, in the garden. So, I rebelled. I threatened suicide, holding a knife to my pregnant belly, forcing him to back down. Then Chloe stepped up, offering to go in my place. Julian’s eyes turned red. The day he sent Chloe to Silas’s villa, he promised her in front of me: when she returned, he would divorce me and marry her. But Chloe came back and killed herself the next day. The autopsy report stated clearly: Pregnant. Julian handled her funeral quietly. He didn’t mention divorce. I thought that although he loved Chloe deeply, with her gone, he would honor our marriage and live out our days together. I never expected that on the day I gave birth, he would take our child and throw him off the hospital roof! Watching my baby turn into a broken heap on the pavement. I realized he had been acting all along! He never got over Chloe! He hated me! So, when I heard Silas demanding me again, I didn’t fight. In this life, I’ll let them be together. “Madam, the Master is back. He wants to see you.” I nodded calmly. “I know.” Downstairs, Chloe was there too. Seeing Julian holding Chloe’s hand tightly without shame, I paused. Did he… come back too? “Lola, Silas expects you in two days. Go pack.” “By the way, Chloe is moving in starting today.” In the past, I would have screamed and fought. Now, I just nodded. “Okay.” Julian avoided my gaze, guilty but impatient. “What game are you playing? Fighting is useless. Disobeying Silas is a fate worse than death.” Chloe chimed in, “Yes, Mrs. Sterling. This is to save the company. Besides, catching Silas’s eye is a blessing.” I couldn’t help but laugh. “Is it? Do you want this blessing?” Julian exploded. “Silas wants you. Why take it out on Chloe? Don’t use that tone. Apologize to her!” I ignored him, but Chloe suddenly dropped to her knees behind him. A picture of self-sacrifice. “Julian, don’t be mad at Mrs. Sterling for me. I’m just an assistant. It doesn’t matter if she looks down on me.” “If it saves the company, I’ll go to Silas in her place!” Before her knees could hit the floor, Julian pulled her up tenderly. “Chloe, you’re pregnant. Don’t kneel to her.” He looked at her with adoration. “I know you’d do anything for me, but Silas wants Lola.” Then he turned his cold glare on me. “I’m warning you, don’t touch Chloe. Or I won’t let you off.” “If you’re worried I’ll dump you when you get back, don’t be. I promise I won’t divorce you over this.” I scoffed internally. I turned around, picked up a document, and handed it to him. Julian frowned. “What is this?” I smiled. “Stepping aside for the worthy. Julian, let’s get a divorce.” 2 Julian didn’t even look at the divorce papers. He threw them across the room. “Lola, have you lost your mind? I said I wouldn’t divorce you.” “I know you don’t want to go, but if you don’t, the company goes under! Do you want everything I’ve built to be destroyed because of you?” I marveled at his audacity. The moral blackmail was impressive. He made it sound like my refusal was a deliberate act of sabotage against his career. Did he think I was as easily manipulated as before? Reborn, I had already formulated a plan to deal with Silas. Seeing my silence, Julian’s face darkened. “Lola, let me be honest. The baby in Chloe’s belly is mine.” “As long as you save the company… I can make you the child’s legal mother in the future.” “No need,” I interrupted, kicking the papers on the floor. “I have no interest in being a stepmother, and I certainly don’t want a bastard calling me Mom.” “Lola!” Ignoring his shouting, I walked upstairs. Seeing me calmly packing, Mrs. Potts teared up again. “Madam, are you really going to Silas? I don’t understand. When his parents died, you stayed by his side through the darkest times. Does years of devotion mean nothing compared to a gold-digger who came running back after failing abroad?” “He swore he’d only love you. How did that woman bewitch him?” I shook my head. “Don’t call me Madam anymore. I have nothing to do with this family.” Mrs. Potts wiped her tears. “But Madam, going to Silas… you’ll be skinned alive…” My hand paused. Even she thought it was a death sentence. Before I could speak, a glass of cold water splashed into my face. “Oops, so sorry, Mrs. Sterling. My hand slipped.” It was Chloe. Holding an empty glass, apologizing with a smirk on her face. “By the way, you shouldn’t pack too much. Silas has everything. After all, you’re not the first woman he’s taken…” Mrs. Potts trembled with rage. “You are too much!” “Mrs. Potts, leave it.” Chloe thought I was too scared to fight back. Her provocation escalated. Her gaze landed mockingly on my stomach. “I heard Silas has… unique tastes. Women who go there come back insane. Who knows how long you’ll last…” “Even if you make it back, that little bastard inside you probably won’t!” I wiped the water from my hair and slapped Chloe hard across the face, shoving her out of my room. “Save your worry. I didn’t plan on keeping it anyway.” As I turned, Chloe grabbed my arm. “Lola, guess what Julian will do if I fall down these stairs?” She whispered venomously in my ear, then threw herself backward. “Ah! Help!” Julian turned pale and rushed to catch her. “Chloe! Are you okay?” Chloe feigned kindness. “I’m fine… Julian, don’t blame Mrs. Sterling. She’s just jealous I’m carrying your child…” Her words fueled Julian’s hatred. He stormed over and slapped me. Hard. “Lola, you disgust me!” “You treat her like this, and she still defends you. You’re not worth a strand of her hair!” “You deserve to be used by that old man! I hope he kills you!” With each vicious word, he ordered the bodyguards to lock me in the basement. “No water until I say so!” Mrs. Potts knelt, begging. “Sir, you can’t! She has severe claustrophobia! She’s terrified of the dark! She’ll die…” Julian ignored her. Chloe, clutching her head, whispered poisonously, “Mrs. Potts, you work for the Sterlings. Why do you always side with Lola?” “What did she give you to make you protect her like a daughter?” Mrs. Potts was furious. She tried to lunge at Chloe but was restrained by guards. She cried outside the basement door all night. Until the next evening, when Silas’s men came for me. 3 Julian opened the basement door. Dim light spilled in, illuminating my curled figure in the corner. Twenty-four hours without water or light. My lips were cracked, my face paper-white, my breathing shallow. Julian stood at the door, pupils contracting when he saw me. “Lola!” He rushed in, hand hovering near my face, afraid to touch me as if I were fragile glass. “How did you get like this? I… I just wanted you to calm down…” Only now did he remember Mrs. Potts’s words. I had severe claustrophobia. Two years ago, his competitors kidnapped me to force him out of a bid. They locked me in a pitch-black container for three days. I developed this fear because of him, yet he sent me back into the abyss with his own hands. “Lola, I…” Just as his voice trembled and he reached to hug me, Chloe walked in. “Strange. I checked the cameras. She seemed fine all day… how did she end up like this?” Julian froze, looking at Chloe, then back at me. His gaze cooled. He stood up, suspicion in his voice. “Acting?” Chloe feigned surprise. “Mrs. Sterling was an actress, after all. A waste of talent…” She paused, glancing at Julian. Seeing his dark expression, she added fuel to the fire. “Don’t blame her, Julian. She probably just wanted you to feel sorry for her. A desperate move.” Julian’s face shifted. The last trace of hesitation vanished. He took a deep breath and shouted to the door, “Someone, get her out. Silas’s car is waiting.” Bodyguards rushed in, dragging me up. I didn’t have the strength to stand. I let them drag me out. Julian didn’t want to see me. He went straight upstairs. Then, Chloe walked over with a bottle of water. “Her lips are cracked. Give her some water!” She unscrewed the cap and ordered the men to force it down my throat. A sharp, chemical taste flooded my mouth. I choked, tears streaming, but Chloe made sure I drank every drop. Silas’s assistant had been waiting. Seeing me pale and limp, panic flashed across his face. He ran over, taking me respectfully from the guards. “Ms. Lola, are you alright?” I shook my head. Just as I was about to get in the car, Chloe grabbed me. She whispered in my ear, voice low enough only I could hear. “Lola, don’t worry. If you die at Silas’s, I’ll collect your body.” She smiled like a flower. “As for our little family of three, we’ll be very, very happy.” She stuffed a signed divorce agreement into my arms. “He didn’t want to sign at first. Felt guilty…” “But I told him I didn’t want to be a mistress forever. I want to be Mrs. Sterling, the mother of his child. So he signed.” Chloe patted my stomach. “Can’t even keep a man’s heart. Lola, you’re such a failure.” Holding the divorce papers, I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. In this moment, I truly thanked her. “Thanks.” As the luxury car drove away from the Sterling estate, I rolled down the window, looking back at Chloe’s triumphant face. I smirked. The show was just beginning. 4 Halfway there, a dull ache started in my abdomen. Soon, it turned into agonizing pain. I realized what was in the water Chloe forced me to drink. I thought she just wanted to humiliate me. But she was more vicious than I imagined! She was afraid that if I survived Silas, I’d threaten her stolen position. She wanted me and the baby dead before I even reached the “Golden Palace.” That way, she could blame it on Silas. And with Silas’s power, who would dare investigate? “My stomach hurts… help me…” I rasped to the assistant in the front seat. The assistant turned pale. “Ms. Lola! What’s wrong? Mr. Silas said nothing can happen to you!” Thirty minutes later. The car stopped at Silas’s villa. My consciousness was fading, each breath weaker than the last. I was carried into a room. The assistant stayed by my side, anxious. “Ms. Lola, you have to hang on…” I nodded weakly, face white as a sheet. The pill I swallowed earlier—an antidote I had prepared—meant I wouldn’t die immediately. But it didn’t guarantee survival. “Mr. Wang, please call someone for me. His name is Ethan Silas.” “Tell him Lola is dying.” The assistant rushed out. I don’t know how much time passed. It was dark outside. I heard servants whispering. “Mr. Wang looked terrified. Who is this woman?” “Silas asked for her personally, and she’s almost dead before seeing him. Of course he’s scared. If Silas finds out, heads will roll…” I pinched my arm hard, forcing myself awake. Dragging my useless legs, I slid off the bed onto the floor. Footsteps approached. Silas was here. He pushed open the door. In an instant, he rushed over. Seeing me on the floor, his face went white. He roared at his men, “What happened?! What did the doctor say?” “Sir, please calm down. It was Julian’s mistress, Chloe. She forced Ms. Lola to drink an abortion drug. She’s stable now, just needs rest…” Before he could finish, I passed out. Panic filled Silas’s eyes as he caught me. “Lola!” He screamed like a madman. “Doctor! Get the doctor!” I dreamed a long dream. I dreamed of meeting Julian. I was a rising actress; he was a passionate but penniless entrepreneur. He had just broken up with Chloe. His parents died, his company was bankrupt, and Chloe left him to go abroad. He was hollowed out, locking himself in a tiny office, writing plans with red eyes. I couldn’t watch it. I turned down a role and went to him. “You still have me,” I said, holding his hand. “I believe in you. You won’t lose.” I stayed up with him, met investors, learned accounting. I brought him lunch every day. I peeled apples while he worked. “Building a dream requires a body to hold it up,” I’d say. He’d take the apple, complaining I was nagging, but his eyes would light up. Once, he didn’t sleep for three days. I dragged him from the computer and forced him into bed. “Lola, you’re annoying! I have a proposal to finish!” “Be annoyed then.” I handed him warm milk. “If you don’t sleep, I don’t leave.” He stared at me, then smiled. “Lola, with you, I feel like I can actually make it.” His business improved. I faded from the entertainment industry. Friends said I was crazy to become a housewife for a man. I didn’t care. I loved him. I wanted to be his support. I cooked for him every day. Soup, steamed fish, sweet and sour ribs. He’d eat until he was full, joking, “Lola, if you opened a restaurant, I wouldn’t need to work.” “You’d have to pay me wages. I only serve one boss.” Days passed until the night his company went public. At the celebration, he stood on stage in a black suit, radiant. The applause was thunderous. I watched him with pride. Then he walked down, knelt on one knee, and pulled out a ring. “Lola, I thought I’d never believe in love again. You stayed with me through the bitterest days. You taught me to stand again.” His voice trembled. “I can’t give you the world, but I’ll give you my everything. Lola, will you marry me?” I felt like I had the world. But the dream shifted. Our second anniversary. I waited two hours. He canceled, citing work. Later, an anonymous email revealed Chloe had returned that day. He threw her a massive welcome party. Flowers, music, luxury. From that day, he came home late. He even whispered “Chloe” in his sleep while holding me. I knew the name. But I played the turtle, hiding in my shell. Ignoring the monthly business trips, the receipts for luxury goods, the visits to the suburban villa… The dream shifted again. The past life. Julian, like a demon, holding our newborn on the hospital roof. I begged on my knees. “Please! He’s your son…” He threw the baby without hesitation. The crying stopped abruptly. I suffocated in despair. Julian looked delighted. “Lola, you killed Chloe.” “Do you know how long I’ve waited for this? I wanted you to watch your child die!” I strangled him. “Julian! He was your child too! Why?!” He glared at me, smiling hideously. “He wasn’t mine! He was a bastard!” Nightmare after nightmare. As I was about to wake, I heard a man’s anxious voice. “You said she was fine! Why isn’t she waking up?”

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In my past life, I was a legal shark. After working myself to death, I was reborn—with my memories intact. While other toddlers made mud pies, I begged my dad for life insurance. While other kids rebelled, I dragged my family to a notary to secure my property rights. But my adoptive parents were painfully honest—even writing IOUs for borrowed sugar. For 18 years, my legal strategies gathered dust. Just as I embraced my comedic fate, a powerful family appeared, claiming I was their lost daughter. The impostor, Celeste, clung to the matriarch’s arm. At their mansion, they slid a severance agreement toward me. “Sign this for five million. Don’t get ideas.” Celeste fake-cried, “I’m sorry, Nina. They’re just protecting me…” As they watched with contempt, I calmly pulled out a voice recorder and a countersuit. “Severing ties is fine. First, pay 18 years of child support, emotional damages, and identity theft compensation—let’s call it 800 million. Oh, and I’ve already frozen the company’s assets. Until this lawsuit ends, you won’t touch a cent.” 1 “This is the final mediation before the hearing. Are you sure you want to proceed?” I leaned back in my chair, observing the family of three seated on the sofa across from me. No, a family of four. My so-called brother, Connor, was glaring at me with murder in his eyes. The man who had spoken was Mr. Sterling, the Delacourt family’s chief legal counsel. He adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, his tone dripping with a condescending charity. “Ms. Lin, Mr. Delacourt is willing to increase the compensation to fifty million dollars and purchase a villa for your adoptive mother. This is our final, most sincere offer.” “All you have to do is drop the lawsuit and issue a public statement admitting this was all a misunderstanding.” I smiled. “Mr. Sterling, how many years have you been practicing law?” He blinked, caught off guard. “Fifteen.” “Then you must be familiar with the criminal code regarding felony child abandonment?” I slowly sat up straight, my gaze sweeping over the family, their expressions shifting. “When circumstances are heinous, resulting in serious injury or death, the sentence is no less than five years in prison.” “The day I was thrown in a dumpster, it was below freezing. If it weren’t for my adoptive parents, I would have been dead from hypothermia within twenty-four hours.” “Tell me, Mr. Sterling,” I said, my voice dangerously soft. “Wouldn’t you consider that heinous?” The color drained from his face. The patriarch of the Delacourt family, my biological father, Julian Delacourt, finally spoke. “Is that a threat?” His voice was deep, heavy with the authority of a man used to being in charge. “It’s not a threat.” I took out my phone and played a recording. “Sign this, and five million dollars is yours. Don’t get any ideas about things that don’t belong to you.” It was the first thing my biological mother, Isabelle, had said to me. I hit pause. “This is evidence of your admitted attempt to sever our relationship with a paltry sum, a threat which caused me secondary emotional distress.” “As for the eight hundred million…” I glanced at my assistant, who immediately handed me a thick file. “This is a calculation of your family’s average annual income based on Delacourt Enterprises’ financial reports for the last eighteen years. By law, the child support you owe is the sum total of all living, educational, and medical expenses enjoyed by Celeste during the time I was missing.” “Add in emotional damages and identity appropriation compensation, and eight hundred million is already a steep discount.” “Oh, and by the way,” I said, waving another document, “this is the court order to freeze your assets. Until this lawsuit is settled, you won’t be moving a penny from your corporate accounts.” Julian Delacourt’s face turned thunderous. Beside him, Celeste was sobbing, her face a mess of tears. “Nina, why are you doing this? We’re family…” “Shut up.” My gaze turned to her, cold as ice. “Illegally occupying someone else’s identity for eighteen years for immense personal gain. You’ll be receiving a second lawsuit from me shortly.” Celeste’s crying stopped abruptly. She stared at me in disbelief. “You’re insane! A complete lunatic!” my brother, Connor, shouted, leaping to his feet and pointing a finger at me. “How could the Delacourt family produce someone as cold-blooded as you? Suing your own parents for money!” I met his furious gaze, my own expression perfectly calm. “You’re wrong.” “I’m not suing you for money.” “I’m suing you to teach you the meaning of the law.” 2 “Connor, sit down!” Julian barked, silencing his enraged son. But the look he gave me was just as venomous. “Let’s talk.” That was the language of the weaker party at a negotiation table. I gestured for him to proceed. Mr. Sterling cleared his throat, trying to regain control. “Ms. Lin, there’s no need to burn bridges. You’re a young woman with a long future ahead of you. It’s unwise to be so absolute.” I ignored him, my eyes fixed on Isabelle, my impeccably preserved mother. Since I had walked in, she’d been watching me with a complex mix of disappointment, disgust, and a sliver of fear. “Mrs. Delacourt, eighteen years ago today, you gave birth to me in a hospital.” Her body gave a slight, almost imperceptible flinch. “You experienced the joy of motherhood, while I was waiting to die in a dumpster.” “For eighteen years, Celeste wore princess dresses, attended the best international schools, and grew up surrounded by your love. Meanwhile, I wore hand-me-downs from the market and collected plastic bottles for a week to afford a few dollars for school supplies.” I paused, watching her eyes well up with tears. I felt nothing. “So, you’re hoping to make up for those eighteen years with tears?” “I…” Isabelle’s voice was choked. “I didn’t know… I didn’t know you suffered so much…” “You didn’t know?” I laughed as if it were the funniest joke in the world. “You didn’t look for me out of guilt. You looked for me because of Celeste’s marriage prospects.” I pulled two photos from my file and tossed them on the table. One was of Celeste cozying up to a young, wealthy heir. The other was the heir’s medical report, highlighting a rare genetic disorder. “The Zhou family needed a healthy heiress to marry into their family and continue their precious bloodline. Unfortunately for you, Celeste’s medical exam didn’t pass. So you remembered me, your backup, didn’t you?” Julian’s pupils contracted. Isabelle’s sobs died in her throat. Connor’s face was a mask of shock. Even Mr. Sterling looked surprised. “How did you know?!” Connor blurted out. “Secrets have a way of coming out.” I leaned back, calmly adjusting my cuffs. “You thought my adoptive parents in that small town were simple country folk? Wrong. My father is a retired criminal detective, and my mother was an archivist. Your half-baked private investigations were like child’s play to me.” That was the first surprise I had in store for them. My adoptive parents were indeed humble, but their professional skills were my ace in the hole. “Now,” I said, my gaze landing on Julian. “Let’s talk about ‘sincerity.’ I don’t just want the money. I want a public, full-page apology in every major newspaper, admitting to the abandonment of your daughter and the deliberate confusion of your bloodline.” “Never!” Julian slammed his hand on the table, trembling with rage. “Then I’ll see you in court.” I stood up to leave. “Wait!” Julian stopped me, taking a deep breath to control his fury. “The apology is… negotiable. And the money… we can discuss it. But you must guarantee that this ends here.” I looked at him and smiled. “Mr. Delacourt, you still don’t get it.” “I’m the one in charge now.” 3 The Delacourts, as expected, fought back. The next day, the internet was flooded with stories about me. #Real-Life Viper: Heiress Returns Home, Demands $800 Million from Saviors# #Greed Personified: Poor Girl Sues Own Parents for Fortune# The articles painted me as a manipulative, bitter girl from the countryside, warped by poverty. They used a photo of me in a washed-out school uniform, eating at a cheap street stall. Juxtaposed with it was an elegant photo of Celeste in a couture gown, playing piano at a charity gala. The stark contrast immediately ignited the internet’s righteous fury. Is this woman insane? 800 million? Why doesn’t she just rob a bank? Her real parents come back to give her a life of luxury and she bites the hand that feeds her. What an ungrateful snake. I feel so bad for the fake daughter. Her identity was stolen and now she has to deal with this monster. Soon after, Celeste gave a video interview to a major news outlet. On camera, her eyes were red and swollen, her face pale. Her voice was as fragile as a feather. “I don’t blame my sister,” she whispered. “She… she must have had a very hard life. She’s just not thinking clearly.” “The money, the status… I don’t want any of it. I just want my sister to come home, so we can be a family…” She covered her face, breaking down into heart-wrenching sobs. Her performance of magnanimous victimhood won her the sympathy of the entire country. The hashtag #CelesteTheAngel trended at number one. My phone blew up with hateful, threatening messages. Red paint was thrown on my adoptive parents’ front door, with vicious words like “GET OUT OF THE CITY” scrawled across it. My mother’s blood pressure skyrocketed, leaving her bedridden. My father silently scrubbed the paint off the door, the veins on the back of his hands bulging. The Delacourts’ media blitz was swift and brutal. They thought that by turning me into a public enemy, they could force me to surrender. Connor called me, his voice dripping with triumphant glee. “See that, Nina? This is what happens when you cross the Delacourts!” “I suggest you drop the suit and apologize. Otherwise, I guarantee you and your pauper parents will never be able to show your faces in public again!” I listened to his tirade, feeling nothing but a cold calm. “Is that so?” I said. “We’ll see about that.” I hung up and dialed another number. “Hello, is this Ms. Zhang? This is Nina Lin. Yes, I’d like to hold a press conference. The location? Right in front of the Delacourt Enterprises headquarters. Time? Ten a.m. tomorrow. I have a gift for them. One they’ll never see coming.” 4 The Delacourts obviously heard about my plan. They probably assumed I was going to publicly surrender and beg for forgiveness. The day of the press conference, the plaza in front of the Delacourt Tower was a sea of reporters and news vans. Julian had even “graciously” sent company security to “protect” me. I stood at the makeshift podium, facing the flashing cameras. In the distance, behind the floor-to-ceiling windows of the tower, I could see their silhouettes. I knew they were watching, waiting for me to humiliate myself. “I know you’re all wondering why I am demanding eight hundred million dollars from my biological parents,” I began, getting straight to the point. “It’s because they owe me more than just eighteen years of child support.” “They owe me a life.” As I spoke, the large screen behind me lit up. It wasn’t a childhood photo or a family portrait. It was a faded police report. “Eighteen years ago, at City General Hospital, a female infant went missing three hours after birth. The report was filed by a nurse on duty.” “The police later found the infant in a dumpster in the alley behind the hospital, freezing and near death.” “That infant was me.” A wave of gasps went through the crowd. “And my biological mother, Isabelle Delacourt, despite knowing her child was missing, chose not to call the police. Instead, she and another new mother—Celeste’s biological mother—completed their discharge paperwork, and she went home with someone else’s child.” I pointed to the screen, where a second piece of evidence appeared: a hospital discharge form signed by Isabelle Delacourt. “What does this prove? It proves that from the very beginning, this was not a simple case of switched-at-birth. This was a premeditated swap and abandonment.” The crowd murmured in shock. The figures behind the glass tower window seemed to stir. “I know some of you will say this was all the other mother’s fault, that my biological parents were victims too. In that case, please see the next piece of evidence.” A new document appeared on the screen: a hospital record for Celeste from when she was ten years old. She’d had an emergency appendectomy and required a blood transfusion. The record clearly stated her blood type. “Julian Delacourt has type O blood. Isabelle Delacourt has type A. According to the laws of Mendelian genetics, it is impossible for them to have a child with type B blood.” “Which means, at the latest, the Delacourts have known for eight years that Celeste was not their biological daughter!” The crowd erupted. “But what did they do?” My voice rose, filled with the righteous anger of eighteen stolen years. “They did nothing! They didn’t call the police, they didn’t search for me. They chose to bury the secret, to continue enjoying the parental love that was rightfully mine, while I was left to grow up like a weed in some forgotten town!” “This is no longer a simple civil dispute!” I looked directly into the cameras, my voice ringing with clarity. “This is, by the definition of the criminal code, a case of malicious abandonment that has continued for eighteen years!” “I am standing here today not just to ask for money. I am standing here as a victim, to formally file a police report!” “I am demanding an investigation into the criminal liability of Julian and Isabelle Delacourt in this case!” As my last word echoed through the plaza, two uniformed police officers emerged from the crowd and walked purposefully toward the entrance of the Delacourt Tower. Every camera swiveled to follow them. I saw Isabelle’s form collapse, caught by a frantic Connor. And Julian… he just stood there, motionless. Even from this distance, I could feel the venom in his gaze. I met it without flinching. As of today, the nature of this war had changed. This was no longer a fight about money. This was a fight to the death, about crime and punishment. I, Nina Lin, a legal shark in my past life, a vengeful daughter in this one, was officially declaring war.

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