Category: English

I slept with the Supreme Commander of the Federation. My goal was to borrow his S-class pheromones to cure my genetic disease. After the treatment, I ran, casually leaving a single coin on his nightstand. It was an acknowledgment of his… services. I thought my plan was flawless. Until three months later, I was pinned to the ground while buying suppressants in the black market. Arthur pressed his gun against the back of my head, his tone freezing cold: “Finally caught you.” “Ethan, I was very dissatisfied with that one-dollar tip you left that night.” I instinctively shielded my stomach. No other reason. Just that this “job” had resulted in a little surprise. 1 When Arthur caught me, I was throwing up. Leaning against the filthy wall of the black market, I was retching so hard I thought I’d bring up bile. Being pregnant… this whole thing was way too out of bounds for a guy who had been an Alpha for twenty-six years. I should have just stabbed Arthur that night instead of getting soft-hearted and merely using him as an antidote. “Are you done throwing up?” A voice as cold as ice came from above. My spine stiffened. I didn’t need to look up to know who it was. That pheromone scent, like frozen earth after a blizzard—there was no second person in the entire Federation with it. Arthur. The Supreme Commander of the Federation, an S-class Alpha known as the “Mad Dog.” He was also my former partner and my current mortal enemy. I wiped my mouth, slowly stood up straight, turned around, and flashed him a grin. “Well, Commander Arthur. Long time no see. Missed me that much?” Arthur didn’t smile. Behind him stood a fully armed special forces squad, their muzzles pointing uniformly at my head. This kind of lineup was a bit excessive, even for my funeral. Arthur, his black-gloved fingers resting on his holster, ran his dark, brooding gaze over me. Finally, his eyes settled on my stomach. My heart skipped a beat. I was wearing loose clothes, so I wasn’t showing much, but his eyes were as venomous as a snake’s. “Your skills have slipped, Ethan.” “You used to be able to smell me three streets away. Now I’m standing right behind you, and you’re dealing with morning sickness?” He used the term “morning sickness.” Not “nausea.” My pupils contracted slightly, and the dagger in my hand quietly slipped into my palm. “My stomach’s been acting up lately. Ate something bad.” “What, does Commander Arthur care about my diet now?” Arthur let out a cold laugh. The next second, he struck without warning. If it were the old days, I could have gone three hundred rounds with him. But now? First, my legs were weak from throwing up. Second, the aftereffects of my genetic disease, combined with the little vampire in my belly, meant my stamina was currently worse than a Beta’s. I only had time to raise my arm to block. Crack. Sharp pain shot through my wrist. Just like that, he twisted my arms behind my back and slammed me hard against the grimy wall. “Ugh… Arthur, you son of a…” “Shh.” The cold barrel of the gun pressed against the back of my head. Arthur leaned in close to my ear, his tone freezing: “Finally caught you.” “Ethan, I was very dissatisfied with that one-dollar tip you left that night.” 2 I was taken back to Federal Prison No. 3. This place was specifically for S-class felons, known as the “Living Tomb.” And I was enjoying the highest level of treatment—personal interrogation by Arthur. The heat was off in the interrogation room, and it was bone-chillingly cold. I was locked in a specialized interrogation chair, my hands and feet tightly shackled. These shackles could suppress pheromones; if I struggled too much, they would release a high-voltage shock. Arthur sat across from me, slowly and methodically cleaning his gun. It was the birthday present I gave him back in the day. I didn’t expect him to keep it until now, much less plan to use it to shoot me. “Ethan, three years on the run, and this is what you’ve reduced yourself to?” He looked up at me, his gaze critical. I was definitely looking rough right now. I’d been stripped down to a single, thin T-shirt. My abdomen was throbbing dully from the violent struggle earlier. I gritted my teeth, fighting back the waves of nausea welling up in my throat. “I’m doing alright.” I forced a smirk. “Just came back for a family visit, you know.” “Family visit?” Arthur acted like he’d just heard a joke. “Visiting who? That former partner you shot through the shoulder and left in the ruins?” Arthur had a through-and-through scar on his body. I did that. Three years ago, the first signs of my genetic breakdown appeared. To avoid dragging him down, and to find a banned drug only available on the black market, I orchestrated a defection. I deliberately missed his vital organs with that shot, but I didn’t expect him to hold a grudge until now. “That was an accident.” “The gun misfired.” SLAM! Arthur slammed his hand on the table. “An accident?” “And sneaking into my residence, drugging me, and using me like a cheap gigolo for a night—was that an accident too?!” I didn’t expect things to turn out like that either. Three months ago, I desperately needed Arthur’s bone marrow fluid or highly concentrated pheromones as a catalyst for my medicine. I sneaked into his residence, originally planning to just draw a vial of his blood. Who knew I’d walk right into the middle of his explosive rut? The whole room was filled with that maddening scent. As an Alpha whose genes were on the verge of collapse, being stimulated by that top-tier oppressive aura caused an immediate, massive rejection reaction. I went crazy too. Only one thought remained in my mind: I need him. What happened next was a blur. I only remember biting, tangling, and him calling my name in the haze of passion. But I couldn’t admit it. If I admitted it, not only would I lose the cub, I’d lose my life too. “Commander Arthur, you need evidence for those claims.” I stared into his eyes, forcing myself to stay calm. “Your residence is heavily guarded. How could I possibly get in? Besides, I’m an Alpha, you’re an Alpha. How do two rock-hard men sleep together? A sword fight?” Arthur narrowed his eyes. “You’re an Alpha?” He suddenly reached out, his hand moving toward the scent gland on the back of my neck. There was a heavy-duty blocker patch stuck there. “Ethan, your pheromone scent has changed.” “It used to smell like strong liquor, now…” He leaned in closer and sniffed, frowning. “Why does it smell like milk?” 3 A herd of wild horses was trampling through my heart. That was the specific scent of an Omega during pregnancy. Even a blocker patch couldn’t completely hide it. “It’s a new cologne. You wouldn’t get it.” “Is it?” Arthur sneered. His fingers suddenly tightened, ready to rip off the blocker patch. “Then let me smell what brand this cologne is.” “Don’t touch me!” I panicked and struggled violently. If he discovered my scent gland had mutated into an Omega’s, everything was over. The shackles sensed my struggle and instantly released a high-voltage current. Zzzzt—! “Ugh!” Agony ripped through my entire body. My vision went black, and I slumped in the chair, convulsing. The electricity didn’t just shock my nerves; it stimulated my already unstable reproductive cavity. It felt like someone had viciously kicked my stomach. The pain made me curl up, and cold sweat instantly soaked my back. “Ethan!” Arthur didn’t seem to expect me to react this violently. He immediately cut the power and reached out to slap my face. “Stop playing dead! That was nothing!” I didn’t have the energy to play dead. I was in real pain. I could even feel something slowly slipping away. “Medicine…” I gripped his sleeve. “Give me my medicine…” “What medicine?” Arthur’s face changed; he must have realized something was very wrong. My body temperature was dropping rapidly, and my lips had turned a purplish-blue. “I have a genetic disease… I need my suppressants…” I shivered, speaking half-truths. I couldn’t say “pregnancy-preserving drugs.” If I did, it would be two lives lost. Arthur stared at me dead on, his eyes unreadable. Just when I thought he was going to watch me die in pain, he suddenly turned and pulled a syringe from the drawer of the interrogation table. It was a military emergency med-kit. Without hesitation, he injected it into my jugular vein. The liquid pushed in, freezing cold. The pain eased slightly. I gasped for air, like a fish just pulled out of the water. Arthur threw away the syringe and grabbed my chin again. “Ethan, what exactly are you hiding from me?” “I’ve checked your physical data. An S-class Alpha’s constitution wouldn’t collapse from that little bit of electricity.” “Unless…” His gaze moved down again, locking onto my abdomen. It was still spasming from the pain. “Unless your physical structure has mutated.” “Take off your clothes.” “What?” I froze for a second. “I said, take off your clothes.” Arthur stood up straight. “Or do I have to do it for you?” “Right here? Are you crazy, Arthur?” “I do what I want, where I want.” He didn’t give me a chance to refuse, grabbing the hem of my T-shirt directly. Riiiip— The fabric tore. My upper body was exposed to the air. It wasn’t a pretty sight. Because my body was covered in scars. Knife wounds, bullet wounds, burn marks—crisscrossing like an ugly web. Arthur’s gaze didn’t linger on those old scars. He stared at my lower abdomen. There was a slight bulge there. If you didn’t look closely, you’d think it was just relaxed muscle. But Arthur reached out and placed his hand over it. I shuddered, instinctively trying to pull back, but there was nowhere to hide. “What is this?” His voice trembled. It carried extreme shock and disbelief. “A lump? A tumor?” He pressed down slightly. I let out a muffled groan. The little cub inside, as if sensing the approach of its other half’s bloodline, actually moved at that very moment. It was a very faint movement. But Arthur froze completely. “It moved…?” I closed my eyes in despair. It was over. This time, it was really over. “Ethan.” Arthur’s voice was hoarse, laced with desperation. “Are you… pregnant?” “An Alpha… pregnant?” 4 Since I couldn’t hide it anymore, there was no need to keep playing the submissive fool. “Yes.” I opened my eyes and looked at him provocatively. “If you don’t believe me, you can cut it open right now and see if it’s a freak or a miracle.” “Whose is it?” He thought I had been sleeping around with wild men out there, knocked up, and came back just to disgust him. I suddenly found it a bit funny. “It’s not yours, anyway.” I deliberately provoked him. “You know what the black market is like. To stay alive, sometimes you have to pay a price…” “Shut up!” He grabbed me by the throat, his eyes bloodshot. “Ethan, how dare you… how dare you let another Alpha touch you?!” The feeling of suffocation rushed in. My vision started to go black, but a smile still hung on my lips. “Cough… Commander Arthur… we broke up a long time ago… who I sleep with… is none of your damn business…” “I forbid it!” Arthur seemed to have lost his mind, his pheromones violently washing over the entire room. “You are mine! Even if you’re a corpse, you’re mine!” “Who does that bastard child belong to?! I’ll kill him! I’ll tear him to pieces!” His grip tightened. I was really going to be strangled to death. The fetus in my abdomen sensed the mother’s crisis and began to struggle violently. It hurt so much. A hundred times worse than the electric shock just now. “Ugh…” I finally couldn’t hold it in and let out a painful groan. That sound seemed to bring back Arthur’s sanity. He looked at my pale face and my starting-to-dilate pupils, and his hand violently released. “Cough, cough, cough…” I coughed violently, greedily sucking in air. Arthur stumbled back two steps, his chest heaving heavily. He looked at his hands, then at me, curled up in pain, confusion and fear flashing in his eyes. “Ethan…” “Get lost…” I was sweating profusely from the pain, gritting my teeth and cursing: “Arthur, if you want to kill me, just do it… stop torturing me…” “Medic!” Arthur roared toward the door. “Get the military medic in here! Now!” “I dare anyone to come in!” “Arthur, if you dare let anyone else touch me… I’ll die right in front of you.” I still held the broken half of the dagger blade in my hand. I pressed it against my carotid artery. “Let me go.” “Impossible.” Arthur refused without a second thought. “With your physical condition, walking out that door means death.” “Staying here means death!” I stared at him. “Arthur, I’m a mutated Omega from a secondary gender differentiation. This child is a monster; it’s eating my life!” “You need top-tier Alpha pheromones to soothe it. Nobody else can save you.” Arthur calmed down. “Ethan, no matter who this bastard child belongs to, we’re saving your life first.” “Once you’re cured…” A ruthless glint appeared in his eyes. “I will personally abort this abomination, and then I’ll find your wild man and tear him to pieces.” I looked at him. I had a lot of mixed feelings. Are you going to tear yourself to pieces? Idiot. But I didn’t dare say it. This child was his. If he found out the truth, given his obsession with blood purity and his controlling nature, this child wouldn’t live to see tomorrow. And he would lock me up, lock me up for the rest of my life. “Ah—!” A tearing, agonizing pain suddenly erupted in my abdomen. My vision went black, and I completely lost consciousness. But in the last second before I passed out, I heard Arthur’s panicked shouts. “Ethan! Ethan!” And that momentary, trembling embrace that wrapped tightly around me. 5 When I woke up again, I was lying in a hospital bed in the infirmary. There were no shackles on my hands or feet, but there was a collar around my neck. It was the kind of suppression collar with GPS tracking and electric shock capabilities. Arthur sat by the bed, peeling an apple. Seeing I was awake, he cut a slice of the peeled apple and held it to my lips. “Eat.” I didn’t open my mouth, watching him warily. “It’s not poisoned.” He took a bite himself, chewing loudly. Then he said suddenly, “The child is still there.” I froze for a second, instinctively touching my stomach. “Why didn’t you abort it?” Arthur tossed the rest of the apple onto a plate and wiped his hands with a tissue. “The doctor said your reproductive cavity is underdeveloped and the walls are too thin. Forcing an abortion right now carries a 90% chance of massive hemorrhage.” He looked up at me, his eyes cold. “I don’t want you dying on the operating table. That would be letting you off too easy.” “So you’re planning to let me give birth to it?” “Give birth to it, and then I’ll strangle it right in front of you.” A chill ran down my spine. This mad dog would actually do it. I took a deep breath. “Arthur, let’s make a deal.” “I’ll help you find the person who broke into your residence, and you let me and the child go.” Arthur paused his movements. “You know who that person is?” “Of course.” I lied effortlessly. “I saw him in the black market. He’s also an Alpha, very skilled in disguises.” “Oh?” Arthur leaned in close to me. “Then tell me, why does that person have the exact same beautiful peach-blossom eyes as you?” I stopped talking. This bastard was bluffing me. Arthur reached out and gently patted my stomach. “Ethan, do you really think I’m stupid?” “Even though the security footage from that night was deleted, you left behind plenty of biological samples.” “I ran a DNA comparison.” My heart skipped a beat. I was screwed. “The results aren’t out yet.” Arthur slowly added another sentence. “But I have time.” “Until the results are out, you’ll stay here quietly and focus on your pregnancy.” “If you dare to run…” He pointed at the collar on my neck. “This thing can only be unlocked by my fingerprint. If you dare take one step out of this room, it will explode.” “And turn that pretty head of yours into a smashed watermelon.” 6 I was under house arrest. Right under Arthur’s nose. I have to admit, aside from his venomous tongue and ruthless nature, this mad dog really knew how to take care of someone. Three meals a day of top-tier nutritious food, and he watched me finish every bite. He practically gave away his pheromones for free to soothe my restless reproductive cavity. My current body was like a bottomless pit, greedily devouring his pheromones. Sometimes when I woke up in the middle of the night, I’d find him sleeping right next to me. Not back-to-back like we used to. He held me in his arms like a body pillow, his hand resting protectively on my stomach. Even in his sleep, he would unconsciously nuzzle the top of my head with his chin. It gave me an illusion. As if we had never fallen out, as if these three years were just a dream. As if… we really were just a normal Alpha/Omega couple, anticipating the arrival of a new life. But when I was fully awake, I knew this was a dead end. Once that DNA report came out, once he knew this child was his—and also the tool I used to exploit him— What awaited me would undoubtedly be a captivity worse than death. I had to run. The opportunity came quickly. Arthur had to attend a high-level Federation meeting and would be away for three days. He tripled the guards, turning the entire building into an iron fortress. But he underestimated the escape skills of a former S-class agent. On the second night of his absence, I pried open the ventilation duct. The collar was a problem. But I took a gamble. I gambled that Arthur wouldn’t actually blow my head off. I tampered with the collar’s sensor, using a thin wire pulled from the mattress to short-circuit its signal transmitter. I only had three minutes. After three minutes, the system would report an error, and Arthur would receive an alarm. I had to sprint out of this building and jump into the moat within three minutes. Everything went smoothly. Until I climbed out of the vent and stood on the roof, ready to jump. A familiar voice that made my scalp tingle came from behind me. “Ethan.” “Where do you think you’re taking my seed?” I turned around stiffly. In the pouring rain. Arthur hadn’t gone to the meeting. He was wearing that black trench coat, standing in the rain, holding a freshly printed document in his hand. He held up the report, the paper snapping in the wind and rain. “100% match.” He grinned, revealing his stark white teeth. “Ethan, you have some nerve.” “You slept with me, got pregnant with my seed, and then lied to me that it belonged to some wild man?” “Tell me, how should I punish you?” I took a step back, my heels hanging over the edge. Below me was a hundred-meter drop into a rushing river. “Arthur, I don’t owe you anything.” I shouted loudly, my voice torn apart by the wind and rain. “That shot from three years ago, I paid it back! This child… consider it payback too!” “What are you paying me back with?!” Arthur roared furiously, throwing the report aside and charging toward me. “Your body is mine! Your life is mine! This child is mine!” “Get over here!” “In your dreams!” I didn’t want to be his canary anymore, let alone a baby-making machine. I leaned back and spread my arms. Just as Arthur’s fingertips brushed mine, I fell backward. The wind howled past my ears. I saw Arthur lunge to the edge of the roof, half his body leaning out. On that always-calm face, I saw an expression called “despair” for the very first time. “Ethan—!!!” In that moment, I actually felt a twisted sense of satisfaction. So the mad dog feels pain too? Then let him hurt. This was the final bite mark I was leaving him.

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During my most innocent year, I kidnapped the aloof, pure campus idol in the middle of the night. Just as I was about to make my move, a barrage of floating comments suddenly flashed in my mind: [The female supporting character better know her place and let the male lead go! He belongs to our female lead!] [Don’t worry, the villainess is just a paper tiger. She doesn’t have the guts to actually do anything. She’s the only G-rated part of this whole R-rated novel.] [The male lead already hated her spoiled rich girl act anyway. Now he’s definitely going to despise her.] The more comments I read, the angrier I got. You tell me not to do it? I’m going to do it even harder. Since he hates looking at me, I’ll make sure he watches me enjoy myself. 1 Just yesterday, my childhood friend, Liam, publicly rejected my confession in favor of the innocent “white lotus,” Mia. Feeling thoroughly humiliated, and knowing that Mia secretly had a crush on the poor, aloof campus idol, Ethan, I angrily decided to become his sugar mommy. But Ethan turned out to be a tough nut to crack. He took the money but refused to be obedient. So, I had him kidnapped overnight, ready to teach him a lesson. Ethan was half-kneeling on the floor, his hands bound behind his back with my necktie. He had probably just taken a shower; water droplets were still clinging to his hair. His dress shirt was quickly becoming damp from the dripping water. I looked down at him from a position of power, enjoying his humiliated and angry expression. “Didn’t I tell you to ignore Mia? Why are you taking my money and not doing your job?” Ethan kept his face completely blank, staring at me expressionlessly. It was as if my words held absolutely no threat to him. I was so angry I almost slapped him, but seeing his god-tier face, I changed my mind. If Mia knew that the untouchable flower on a high peak she idolized was being trampled by me, it would be quite entertaining. I extended my foot, letting my toe slide slowly up from the open collar of his shirt. I maliciously patted his cheek. “If you’re going to be a kept canary, you need to act like one. Did you really think my money was that easy to take?” “Instead of acting tough here, you should be figuring out how to please me.” Ethan’s ears burned red, and he glared at me resentfully: “Chloe, don’t go too far.” I tilted my head and leaned in close, tapping my own red lips: “Think about your alcoholic dad, your sick mom, and your sister who needs tuition.” Ethan hesitated for a long time before finally choosing to submit. He closed his eyes in agony and slowly leaned toward my lips. Right at that moment, the floating comments suddenly appeared: [The female supporting character better know her place and let the male lead go! He belongs to our female lead!] I was startled and instinctively dodged Ethan’s kiss. The comments started scrolling faster and faster, a massive wave of information overwhelming me. I couldn’t believe that someone as beautiful and rich as me was actually just a female supporting character in a novel! The comments popped up again: [Ahhh, I hate these plots where the female side character bullies the male lead! Our male lead’s purity belongs only to the female lead!] [Don’t worry, the villainess is just a paper tiger. She doesn’t have the guts to actually do anything. She’s the only G-rated part of this whole R-rated novel.] [The male lead already hated her spoiled rich girl act anyway. Now he’s definitely going to despise her.] The more I read, the more furious I became. You tell me not to do it? Watch me. Since he hates looking at me, I’ll make sure he watches me enjoy myself. Out of pure spite, I planted a forceful kiss right on Ethan’s lips. 2 Ethan didn’t expect me to kiss him so suddenly and instinctively tried to pull back. I grabbed his head, refusing to give him a chance to escape, and slowly deepened the kiss. Clearly, neither of us had any experience; the kiss was clumsy. Soon, I was out of breath and pulled away. Ethan, however, seemed mesmerized and involuntarily chased my lips for a second. Realizing what he had just done, his face flushed bright red with embarrassment and anger. Panting slightly, I mocked him without holding back: “Your kissing skills suck.” Ethan’s body went rigid. He wanted to retort. But seeing my wet, glistening lips, he pressed his own together and said nothing. For some reason, a wave of heat washed over me and wouldn’t go away. Feeling flustered, I picked up the glass of milk nearby and took a sip. Accidentally, some milk spilled down my fingers. I held my hand up to Ethan’s lips with a look of disdain: “Lick it clean for me.” Ethan’s pupils shrank, and he stared at me in absolute disbelief. As if I had asked him to commit some heinous crime. I hated it when he took my money but still acted like some pure, untouchable saint. I frowned in displeasure and wiggled my pale, delicate fingers: “What? You don’t want to?” “If you don’t want to, you can get the hell out.” I could tell he was genuinely angry. The veins on his forehead were throbbing. The corners of his eyes turned a faint, alluring red, and his voice was hoarse and deep: “Chloe, you’ll regret this.” I ruthlessly shoved my fingers into his mouth, smiling wickedly: “Oh? Is that so? Then I’ll wait for the day I regret it.” “Today is just a little lesson. If you don’t behave, I’ll punish you like this again.” The comments exploded: [Tsk tsk, arrogant, radiant rich girl VS aloof, pure campus idol. I’m kind of shipping this.] [What are you shipping? The villainess is doing this; the male lead definitely wants to hack her into a million pieces.] [Exactly! I bet they’re going to have a Bad Ending. Anyone else want to place a bet?] 3 Early the next morning, when I ran into Ethan in the classroom, he looked at me like I was a complete stranger. As if last night had never happened. There were plenty of empty seats in the college lecture hall, and Ethan usually sat in the corner. He always put his backpack on the seat next to him, radiating a “do not disturb” aura. The girls around Mia were all encouraging her to go over and ask if she could sit next to him. I originally couldn’t be bothered, but the comments triggered my competitive spirit. [Just wait and see. The male lead only makes exceptions for the female lead.] [I remember it’s starting from today that they sit together often, and their relationship takes a huge leap forward, right?] While Mia was still hesitating, I walked straight over. Ethan looked up at me expressionlessly. I pointed at his backpack, signaling him to move it: “I’m sitting next to you from now on.” Ethan obediently moved his bag. As soon as I sat down, Mia’s eyes welled up with tears. The girls around her immediately swarmed over to attack me: “Chloe, why do you have to oppose Mia at every turn? Just because Liam rejected you doesn’t mean you can take your anger out on her!” “Yeah, exactly. She’s so jealous. The moment she saw Mia wanted to sit here, she immediately stole the spot.” Mia put on a show of trying to stop them, her voice thick with fake tears: “Don’t say that. Chloe sat down first. Don’t think so badly of her.” “Mia, you’re just too kind, that’s why people bully you.” “Right, exactly. You can’t just let people like her walk all over you.” I calmly placed my books on the desk, not even sparing them a glance: “Get lost!” “Who do you think you are…” “You get lost too!” Seeing that the class bell was about to ring, they finally scattered. “Whatever, don’t bother arguing with someone like her. You might get bitten.” 4 I realized early on that whenever Mia and I were in the same room, no matter what I did, people would criticize me. It was as if even my breathing was wrong. But whatever. I’ll just be the villainess to the bitter end. The comments debated amongst themselves: [The female lead’s plot armor is too strong. The villainess gets criticized for literally everything. Who wouldn’t be mad? No wonder she hates the female lead.] [What can you do? She’s not the female lead. She just has to take it.] [To the commenter above: Does the female supporting character not have the right to be respected? Does the whole world have to revolve around the female lead?] Because it was a boring lecture, I accidentally dozed off halfway through. When I woke up, I realized I was resting my head on Ethan’s arm. Seeing that his arm was a bit stiff, I apologized awkwardly: “Sorry. You could have just woken me up.” Ethan looked at me, a flicker in his eyes, and said flatly: “Don’t misunderstand. I just noticed that when you weren’t resting on my arm, you snored so loudly you were disrupting the class.” I scratched my head in embarrassment, wondering since when I started snoring. 5 Normally, I would badger my childhood friend, Liam, into having lunch with me. But seeing Mia next to him, I instantly lost interest. Before Mia showed up, Liam was really good to me. So good that I thought he liked me too. But after my confession was rejected, I realized the truth: just like he said, he only saw me as a little sister. As I walked past them, Liam instinctively and somewhat impatiently moved to make room for me. When he saw me sit down next to Ethan instead, his gaze froze for a second. Because we weren’t far apart, I could clearly hear them talking. “Liam, Chloe probably sat over there just to get your attention. Do you want to call her over?” “Ignore her. She’s always been spoiled like this. In a few days, she won’t be able to take it anymore and will come back on her own.” I felt absolutely nothing hearing these insignificant words. Instead, I looked with slight disgust at the bland food on Ethan’s tray: “You have money now, why are you still being so frugal?” Ethan kept his head down, eating without looking at me: “Habit.” I proactively pushed my tray toward him: “But I like my canaries to have a little more meat on their bones. You’re a bit too skinny.” Ethan choked violently, his ears turning an unnatural red. He lowered his eyelids and asked, seemingly casually: “Are you only treating me this well to make Liam mad?” I had nothing to hide from Ethan, so I told the truth: “To be exact, it’s to make Mia mad.” “But…” Ethan looked up, watching me curiously: “But what?” I suddenly leaned in closer and lowered my voice: “If you feed me a bite, I’ll tell you.” Ethan awkwardly turned his head away: “Boring.” I raised an eyebrow noncommittally. I contentedly enjoyed the sight of Mia, sitting a short distance away, biting her lip and looking as if she had suffered a massive injustice. In short, if she’s unhappy, I’m happy. When school ended, a torrential downpour washed over the previously sunny sky. Just as I walked out the school gates, the comments flashed again: [Ooh, is the equipment room scene with the male and female leads happening this soon?] [Both of their clothes are soaked from the rain. In a confined space, it’s impossible not to have some sparks fly.] [Exactly. After this, the male lead can’t stop dreaming about the female lead.] I changed direction and headed straight for the equipment room. 6 Sure enough, as soon as I walked in, I saw a soaking wet Ethan. His white dress shirt clung to his lean waist, outlining the sexy lines of his abs. As expected of the male lead—looks slim with clothes on, but muscular underneath. Perhaps my scrutinizing gaze was too direct. Ethan shifted uncomfortably into the shadows: “What are you doing here?” I walked up to him and waved the umbrella in my hand: “To take you home, obviously.” Just then, footsteps suddenly echoed from outside. Ethan grabbed me and pulled me behind a vaulting horse. We were so close our skin was practically touching. I looked at him, amused: “We have nothing to hide. Why are we sneaking around?” Ethan seemed to realize this too and instinctively tried to push me away and step out. Taking advantage of the movement, I hooked my arms around his neck. Hearing Mia’s voice, I mouthed the words to him: “Kiss me.” Ethan’s entire body went rigid, his heart beating wildly against my chest. Seeing he still wasn’t moving, I wickedly nipped his prominent Adam’s apple. Ethan clenched his fists, the veins on the back of his hands bulging. Perhaps afraid I would do something even more outrageous, he compromised, lowering his head and pressing his lips to mine. Feeling the cold touch of his lips, I pried open his tightly pressed mouth, guiding him to kiss me deeper. In the quiet equipment room, the sound of our breathing slowly grew heavier. Mia, standing a short distance away, clearly noticed something was wrong and called out in our direction: “Is anyone there?” I didn’t want her to see us being intimate just yet. Hearing the approaching footsteps, I proactively tried to back away. But Ethan wrapped an arm around my waist, leaving me no room to retreat. I panicked and frantically threw his jacket over our heads. Unfortunately, the jacket was too small and only covered Ethan. Mia recognized me almost immediately. “Chloe, you!” A camera flash went off, and Mia ran out of the room. Ethan had gone a bit too far this time. I had to bite his lip hard to get him to release me. The comments exploded: [Holy shit, I looked away for a second and the male lead and the villainess are kissing?! And the female lead saw them?!] [Did you guys see how lost in the moment the male lead looked? Could he actually be falling for the villainess?] [What nonsense! The villainess obviously forced him, okay?] I pushed Ethan away, annoyed: “You were very disobedient this time.” “What, are you going to teach me another lesson like last time?” If Ethan hadn’t brushed past my shoulder as he walked out, I almost would have thought I was hearing things. Did those words actually just come out of his mouth? 7 Early the next morning, two things happened that seriously pissed me off. First, the photo of Ethan and me kissing had been circulated. Because his face was covered by the jacket, a lot of nasty rumors started flying around. The underlying message was that I was promiscuous and lacked “female virtue.” To be fair, why wasn’t anyone saying the guy lacked “male virtue”? Second, Liam came up to me with a dark face and demanded an explanation: “Chloe, who is the guy in the photo? Why were you kissing him?” “Just because I rejected your confession? Do you have so little self-respect?” Mia chimed in, trying to play peacemaker: “Liam, even though Chloe moved on a bit quickly, she has the right to like other people!” Liam’s face grew even colder. His dark eyes stared at me intently. It gave me the creeps. I met his gaze head-on, my tone defiant: “Since when do I have to report my relationships to you, my ‘big brother next door’?” “You’re overstepping! And don’t think you’re that important to me.” With that, I turned on my heel and walked away. I could feel his burning gaze drilling into my back. He obviously didn’t like me, yet he still wanted to control me. It was completely ridiculous. Clearly, I had underestimated the butterfly effect caused by that photo. Even my professor was considering revoking my opportunity to enter a major competition. Feeling frustrated, I sat in a small bar, drinking. I don’t know how Ethan found me. He didn’t do anything; he just sat silently beside me. I think I was genuinely drunk. I hugged him and kept asking over and over: “Ethan, am I really a bad person? Why does everyone assume the absolute worst about me?” By the end, I couldn’t tell if it was my imagination or if he actually said: “You’re wonderful.” 8 When I woke up again, I stared in deep thought at Ethan, who was lying next to me, bare-chested. The hickey on his neck didn’t look fake. The scratch marks on his body didn’t look fake. And the comments discussing it definitely weren’t fake: [Are you saying the villainess unleashed her inner beast yesterday and pinned the male lead to the bed and kissed him?] [If the villainess has any conscience left, she should buy the male lead a new shirt. That perfectly good shirt was ripped to shreds.] [All the steam was supposed to be with the female lead, and now only the villainess is getting any action!] As soon as I turned on my phone, Liam’s missed calls nearly blew it up. I had 99+ unread messages on WeChat. Feeling a sense of dread, I clicked into my “Moments.” Nine photos showing Ethan and me kissing from every possible 360-degree angle were sitting right there. The caption was: [So what if we kissed? I kiss whoever I want! I kiss whoever I want!] While I was still reeling from shock, Ethan calmly stood up and started putting on his shredded, rag-like shirt. I facepalmed: “Don’t wear that. Stay here, I’ll go buy you some new clothes nearby.” Thank goodness it was the weekend, and I wouldn’t run into anyone I knew… I stared speechlessly at Liam, who was sitting by the door with dark circles under his eyes. “What are you doing here?” The comments were having a field day: [Did this guy sit outside the door listening to the villainess and the male lead hook up all night? Is he traumatized?] [Apparently he knocked on the door a few times, and the villainess literally pinned the male lead against the door and kissed him, telling Liam to get lost and stop ruining the mood.] [This idiot second male lead, why didn’t he take the opportunity to steal the female lead instead of hanging around the villainess?] Seeing his dark, silent gaze, I turned to leave. Liam grabbed my wrist, his eyes bloodshot as he looked at me: “Break up with him.” I pried his fingers off one by one, my voice icy: “If you have this much free time, go check on your precious Mia. Don’t interfere with my business.” When I got back, Liam was gone, and Ethan had cleaned the room spotlessly. I handed him the clothes I bought: “Once you’re dressed, you can go. I want to rest some more.” Ethan slowly buttoned up his shirt, looking at me with dissatisfaction: “Am I just a tool to you? You use me and then throw me away.” I spat out the water I had just taken a sip of. Liam was acting weird, and Ethan was acting even weirder. That sentence sounded completely wrong no matter how you sliced it. I rubbed my aching forehead and brushed him off: “You know we have a strictly financial relationship. What I did wasn’t out of line.” Ethan was clearly unhappy. He left with a dark expression on his face. 9 Since the “kissing gate” incident, everyone assumed Ethan and I were dating. But Ethan, holding a grudge over how I brushed him off, ignored me for days. In everyone else’s eyes, our relationship looked like I was just desperately chasing after him. Ding-dong. A notification popped up on my phone. It was a birthday party invitation from Liam. I couldn’t help but frown. I didn’t want to go, but the Liam and Chloe families were close. If I didn’t show up, my parents would definitely nag me. If this were the past, I would have spent so much time and effort picking out a gift for him. Now? Whatever. I’ll just buy something random. Who cares if he likes it or not. Mia showed up at the birthday party too. Coincidentally, we both bought him perfume. Except, she bought a woody scent, and I bought an aquatic scent. I sat quietly in the farthest corner, trying to make myself invisible. But Mia just had to call me out publicly: “Chloe, you’ve known Liam for so long, you couldn’t possibly not know he prefers woody scents, right?” Before I could say a word, Liam spoke up: “Mia, you’re talking too much.” I was confused. The comments were even more confused: [Oh my god, wasn’t today supposed to be the plot where the second male lead, desperate to get the female lead, drugs her with an aphrodisiac? Why does this situation look so wrong?] [Am I the only one who noticed the color of the red wine in the villainess’s hand looks a little off?] I stared at the half-empty glass of red wine in my hand, deep in thought. Why didn’t you guys wait until I was dead to tell me?! 10 Soon, I felt my body burning up and my mind growing hazy. Realizing something was wrong, I stumbled out of the room, heading for the restroom. Halfway down the hall, a hand suddenly yanked me into a storage closet. The closet was dim, but I clearly smelled the scent of cedar coming from behind me. It was Liam. He slowly pinned my hands behind my back, his voice hoarse: “Chloe, you’ve been really disobedient lately.” I panicked and struggled with all my might. “Liam, do you know what you’re doing?! Let me go!” Liam took off his glasses, brushed a strand of my hair aside, and took a light sniff: “I still prefer it when you call me ‘Liam’ like you used to.” “Liam, don’t cross the line. If you keep this up, I’ll scream—mmph!” This aggressive kiss was incredibly repulsive. I got vicious and bit down hard. The metallic taste of blood quickly filled both our mouths. But the harder I bit, the more into the kiss Liam became. Pain acted like an aphrodisiac for him. This was the first time I fully realized… He was a psychopath.

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My son and I were kidnapped. The kidnappers live-streamed our ordeal online, threatening to chop my son into pieces and feed him to dogs if the ransom wasn’t paid. Instantly, the entire internet was searching for my husband. But what they didn’t know was that at the exact same moment, trending alongside our kidnapping, was the city’s wealthiest billionaire announcing his new relationship with a famous actress, looking like the picture-perfect, happy family of three. That billionaire was my husband, the father of my child. Seeing those two trending topics side-by-side was truly laughable. Later, taking pity on my son, the kidnappers only took one of his hands. Dragging his bleeding, empty left sleeve, he crawled all the way home, only to stumble upon my husband celebrating the birthday of his “first love’s” child. My husband frowned. Looking at my son’s curled-up, trembling body, his eyes were ice-cold: “Truly Chloe’s child. You only know how to play the victim, just like your mother.” My son looked up. Using his only remaining hand, he tugged at my husband’s pant leg. “Mister… could you please lend me some money so I can bury my mom?” 1 It was the twenty-third hour since my son and I were taken and tortured by the kidnappers. Arthur Sterling, the wealthiest man in the city, was busy celebrating the sixth birthday of his “first love’s” child. I had dialed his number for help eighty-eight times. Every single time, I got a busy signal. Furious, the kidnapper grabbed me by the hair and dragged me in front of my son, his face contorted with rage. “Isn’t Arthur Sterling your husband?! Why the hell won’t the call go through?!” “Are you dialing the wrong number on purpose to stall for time?!” As he yelled, he violently ripped out clumps of my hair, taking patches of scalp with them. The sheer agony contorted my face instantly. Tossing the bloody hair onto the ground, the kidnapper sneered, spat in my face, and threatened: “I’m giving you one last chance. If the call doesn’t go through this time, don’t blame me for being ruthless.” He pointed at my son, who was pale with terror. It was a clear warning: if the call failed again… The next victim would be my child, who had just turned six. The excruciating pain made my body tremble uncontrollably, but I didn’t dare fight back. I had to protect my child. Picking up the phone, I dialed Arthur’s number for the eighty-ninth time. Beep… beep… “Hello?” Arthur’s deep, magnetic voice finally came through. The moment I heard his voice, tears immediately streamed down my face. A mix of overwhelming relief and terror tangled in my heart, making me blurt out desperately: “Hubby, Tommy and I have been kidnapped! You need to—” Before I could finish, the man on the other end cut me off with clear disgust: “Enough, Chloe! I don’t care what kind of act you’re pulling this time, but leave Tommy out of it!” “If you have any conscience left, stop using our son as a pawn to get my attention.” With that, he hung up without a second of hesitation. The kidnapper’s face darkened, his gaze shifting ominously toward my son. Ignoring my despair, I immediately called back, terrified that a second’s delay would cost my son his life. The call connected again. I begged through my sobs: “Arthur, I’m not lying! We’ve really been kidnapped! Please, I beg you, save our child!” Silence stretched on the other end for two seconds before Arthur’s voice, so cold it chilled me to the bone, rang out: “Then wait until you’re dead. I’ll come collect your bodies.” The line went dead. Arthur had turned off his phone. At the exact same moment, I received a video message from Mia. In the video, Arthur, dressed in a bespoke suit, held Mia’s son and spoke confidently to the media. “Yes, that’s right. This is Mia’s and my child.” “We were forced apart previously due to some misunderstandings, but now we have decided to get back together.” “From now on, I will be a good father and take excellent care of Mia and Leo.” Mia stood beside him, smiling sweetly. Attached to the video was an electronic invitation. [Chloe, you and Tommy are welcome to attend our wedding on the 5th of next month.] [We’d love for Tommy to be our ring bearer.] It felt like my heart was being shredded into pieces. The pain was so intense I could barely breathe. In my daze, my son suddenly screamed. “Mommy!” Having lost all patience, the kidnapper dragged my son up from the floor, grabbing him by the throat and lifting him into the air. “You little bastard! I didn’t expect you to be completely useless!” My son’s face turned a purplish blue as he desperately slapped the kidnapper’s massive hand with his tiny ones. “M-Mommy…” Rage eclipsed my fear. I screamed and lunged forward, desperate to save my son. Before I could even reach him, another kidnapper pinned me down and punched me brutally several times. “Bitch! You dare fight back?!” As he spoke, he picked up a rusty piece of rebar from the floor and jammed it into my mouth, churning it violently. The rough, jagged ridges tore my mouth apart, churning up bloody foam. My gums and tongue were shredded to a pulp. The agony was so intense I could only let out muffled whimpers. Only after completely venting his rage did the kidnapper throw my son to the ground. He ordered someone to open a live-streaming app on a phone. “Since he doesn’t believe the phone calls, we’ll live-stream the kid being tortured.” “I refuse to believe Arthur Sterling can be that heartless, completely abandoning his own flesh and blood.” 2 The kidnappers’ live stream of the abuse and the news of Arthur’s new relationship skyrocketed to the top of the trending lists simultaneously. In front of the media, Arthur affectionately placed Mia’s son on his shoulders and smiled at the reporters: “Alright, that concludes today’s interview. Mia and I need to go celebrate our child’s birthday.” Mia gave the man a coy, playful look. “Arthur is just like this. He’s always been such a good father.” Meanwhile, on the other side, the kidnappers shoved my son into a burlap sack, kicking and beating him mercilessly like a ragdoll. I was tied tightly to a chair, forced to watch this horror unfold with my own eyes. My son’s cries of pain, initially heart-wrenching screams, slowly faded into the weak whimpers of a dying kitten. The comment section rolled by in a blur: [I can’t watch this! The kid’s screams are too horrible!] [Didn’t they say they’d let the kid go as long as the dad connected to the stream? Where is the dad?!] [Can anyone contact the kid’s father?! Save the child!] The kidnapper dragged my son out of the sack, his eyes filled with sinister cruelty: “You little bastard. It seems your dad really can hold his nerve. He still refuses to show up.” “Fine. Don’t blame me for what happens next.” With that, he picked up the piece of rebar and began to move. My eyes nearly burst from their sockets in sheer terror. Dragging the chair with me, I threw myself to the floor, kowtowing frantically toward them like a madwoman. “I beg you, please don’t hurt my child! I’m not afraid of pain! Do whatever you want to me, just let my child go! I beg you!” My forehead slammed heavily against the concrete floor, quickly dyeing it red. My son opened his eyes, looking at me, and kept shaking his head. “No, Mommy. Tommy doesn’t hurt… Tommy doesn’t hurt at all.” My son’s voice was like an ice pick plunging deep into my heart. But I couldn’t afford to be afraid. He was only six. His life was just beginning. Tears mixed with blood slid down my cheeks as I gave him the same gentle smile I always did. “Tommy, Mommy is an adult. Adults don’t feel pain.” My son looked confused, still shaking his head continuously. The kidnapper, completely out of patience, gripped the rebar and stepped menacingly toward my son. “You little bastard, let’s see you cry now!” In that split second, I lunged forward with all my might, shoving my son out of the way. The rebar plunged down, impaling my body. The agonizing pain caused my body to convulse uncontrollably, but I didn’t want to terrify my child. Even as the kidnapper yanked the rebar out, I fought desperately to keep the smile on my face. I wanted to tell my child not to be afraid. I wanted to tell him how much Mommy loved him. But when I opened my mouth, all I could manage was a smiling whisper: “Tommy, don’t cry. Mommy doesn’t hurt.” In the moments before my death, countless memories flashed through my mind. I thought of our wedding day, how Arthur’s hands trembled so much holding mine that it took him ages to slip the ring on my finger. I thought of the day I found out I was pregnant, how Arthur’s eyes were rimmed with red as he asked me, “Am I really going to be a dad?” I thought of my son’s fifth birthday, the grand, extravagant celebration Arthur threw for him. But soon, those memories were replaced by the countless times Mia framed me and my son after her divorce. By Arthur’s suspicion, his disappointment, and finally, his cold, heartless glare. My vision began to blur. I could hear my son’s voice. He was saying: “Mommy, don’t go to sleep. Tommy will be good. Tommy will listen.” “Mommy, don’t sleep!” I used my last ounce of strength to raise my hand, wanting to stroke my son’s hair. But all I felt was sticky, warm blood. I’m sorry, Mommy couldn’t protect you. I’m sorry, Tommy. My consciousness sank entirely into darkness. My son stretched out his tiny hands, desperately trying to plug the bleeding wounds on my body. But it was all in vain. The comment section couldn’t take it anymore, scrolling frantically: [These monstrous kidnappers! Where are the police?! Hurry up and save them!] [Where is the child’s father?! Why hasn’t he shown up yet?!] [Does anyone know this child?! Please help them, I’m begging you!] … Even the kidnappers began to panic. One nervously turned to his accomplice: “What do we do? She’s dead.” The accomplice narrowed his eyes, his voice chilling: “It’s fine. We still have the little one, don’t we? We can still get the ransom.” He ripped my son away from my body and shoved him in front of the camera. Revealing his small face, covered in dark bruises. “Look closely, everyone! This child’s father is the CEO of the Sterling Group, Arthur Sterling!” The rapidly scrolling comment section paused for a split second. Then it absolutely exploded. [How is that possible? Didn’t CEO Sterling just announce his relationship with that actress?] [Yeah, they have a kid, but isn’t his name Leo?] [Are the kidnappers insane? They’re trying to extort him?] [Exactly! Did they kidnap the wrong person?!] Just as everyone was debating furiously, someone suddenly commented. [I was at the announcement event! I saw CEO Sterling check his phone!] [Just wait a second, everyone! CEO Sterling definitely saw the news! He’ll be here any minute!] As soon as that comment dropped, a bold, enlarged message was pinned to the top of the chat. It immediately caught the kidnappers’ attention. [Connect with me! I am Arthur Sterling!] My son didn’t recognize many words, but he knew the characters for “Arthur Sterling” meant his dad. His eyes instantly lit up. “Daddy…” 3 The connection was established, but it wasn’t Arthur on the other end. The kidnapper’s expression twisted. He violently pinned my son to the floor, raising a knife to sever his left hand. The voice on the other end frantically tried to stop him: [Wait! Don’t do anything rash! I’m CEO Sterling’s personal secretary!] [I just want to tell you that you’ve kidnapped the wrong person. Everyone in the company knows our CEO has always kept his personal life clean and never had any children.] [The only child he acknowledges is the actress’s son, Leo. Please don’t hurt an innocent child!] The kidnapper sneered, pressing the cleaver against my son’s neck, his tone freezing: “I’ll give you ten minutes to get Arthur Sterling on the phone. Otherwise, I’m going to use this kid’s head as a soccer ball!” Helpless, the secretary had no choice but to call Arthur’s number. “Hello? Who are you looking for?” A young, childish voice answered, filled with joy. The next second, an indulgent male voice could be heard. “Leo, the paper airplane is ready. Come here, Daddy Arthur will play with you.” The boy cheered, laughing happily: “Okay! Daddy Arthur, someone is looking for you.” Arthur took the phone, sounding displeased: “What is it? Didn’t I tell you today is Leo’s birthday, and that I’m not to be disturbed no matter what happens?!” The secretary froze for a second before immediately asking: “Mr. Sterling, do you have another son named Tommy? He…” “Enough!” Arthur angrily cut the secretary off: “I don’t know how much Chloe paid you, but I’m warning you, stop using children as a pathetic ploy to get my attention.” “I only have one son right now, and that’s Leo.” “Don’t ever mention anyone else to me again!” With that, the line went dead again. His voice echoed throughout the entire live stream, completely extinguishing the light in my son’s eyes. Perhaps he didn’t understand what “paid you” meant, but he knew one thing for sure: his dad had abandoned him. Muttering that realization, my son closed his eyes, his heart turning to ash. In that moment, he stopped struggling. The live stream was automatically shut down due to suspected violations. Furious and humiliated, the kidnapper raised the cleaver, ready to strike, but his accomplice stopped him. Looking at my son’s innocent, bruised face, he suggested: “Forget it. Since Arthur Sterling refuses to acknowledge him, this kid is useless now.” “Just chop off one of his hands and dump him at Arthur’s villa.” “Since he wants his mom so badly, give him a chance to collect her body.” The kidnapper scoffed, moving the cleaver to my son’s left arm. As the cleaver fell, my son’s agonizing screams echoed through the entire warehouse. Meanwhile, Arthur, who was busy helping a child cut a birthday cake, suddenly felt a sharp jolt in his heart. 4 When he woke up again, my son, now missing a hand, had been dumped by the kidnappers outside Arthur’s sprawling villa. In the courtyard sat a massive, elaborate toy castle. Arthur and Mia were playing games with Leo. The continuous sound of joyful laughter drifted over, reviving my son’s consciousness. He painfully rolled over, staring blankly at the happy scene in the courtyard, his eyes welling with tears. Soon, he remembered what the kidnappers had said. Collect Mommy’s body… Right. I have to collect Mommy’s body. Even though he didn’t fully understand what “collecting a body” meant, his instinct told him it was incredibly important to Mommy. With that thought, he didn’t even have time to process the agonizing pain in his shoulder. Using his only remaining right hand, he dragged himself across the rough ground. Inch by inch, he painfully crawled toward the massive gates of the villa. Sharp stones sliced his palm; gravel dug deep into his raw wounds. Every single movement was sheer torture. This was the same child who used to cry and hide in my arms over a minor scrape. This time, he only whimpered a few times silently before immediately continuing his agonizing crawl. He stared at the increasingly closer gates of the villa, muttering to himself: “It doesn’t hurt… Tommy doesn’t hurt… I have to collect Mommy’s body…” When he finally touched the gate, my son let out a sigh of relief. He raised his head and used his very last ounce of strength to scream. “Daddy!” Hearing the sound, Arthur instinctively turned his head. When he saw the tiny, curled-up figure outside the gate, the man froze, a flicker of heartbreak flashing in his eyes. Just as he was about to step forward, Mia interrupted him. “Arthur, is that Tommy? Why is he here? Didn’t Chloe say they were kidnapped?” Mia’s expression briefly twisted, but her voice remained soft and gentle as water. “But then again, it makes sense. Chloe has always been jealous of how well you treat me and Leo. Trying to ruin Leo’s birthday is exactly her style.” “It’s just pitiful for Tommy. Being used like this at such a young age.” Hearing Mia’s words, Arthur’s heart hardened once more. He looked at my son from a distance, his voice cold and merciless: “What? Your mom’s calls didn’t work, so she sent you here to play the victim?!” “I can’t believe I have a son like you. You’re an embarrassment. From now on, without my permission, you are not allowed to call me ‘Daddy’.” “I’ll count to three. Get up right now, or don’t blame me for what happens next!” My son moved his pale lips, trying to explain, but the pain had long since drained him of all strength. Seeing no reaction, Arthur’s anger flared. He turned, grabbed a heavy model airplane from the yard, and hurled it viciously at my son. “I told you to get up! Stop acting!” The model shattered against my son’s forehead with a loud crack. Blood dripped into his eyes, dyeing his vision red. He wanted to tell his dad that he wasn’t acting. That Tommy was in so much pain. But he had no strength left. Seeing his son still unmoving, Arthur’s fury peaked. He shook off Mia’s hand and marched toward my son: “You’re still refusing to listen, aren’t you?! Believe it or not, I’ll—” Before he could finish, a harsh ringtone pierced the air. “Hello, is this Mr. Arthur Sterling? We received a report that your child was live-streamed by kidnappers this morning, and the mother was killed on the scene.” “We need you to come to the police station immediately to assist with our investigation.” Clatter! The phone slipped from his grasp. Arthur saw the blood covering my son, and his eyes instantly turned blood-red. My son finally found a sliver of strength. He raised his head and, using his only remaining right hand, feebly tugged at Arthur’s pant leg: “Mister… could you please lend me some money… to help me bury my mom?”

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When I was ten, I moved into the Mercer home with my mother after she remarried. My stepbrother, Ethan Mercer, always mocked me as a parasite, once even pushing me down the stairs. He watched me lie in a pool of blood with cold eyes: “Don’t think you can become a Mercer just because you follow your mistress mother. I’ll kick you out eventually.” He’d tear up my homework, draw on my dress with markers, deliberately trying to humiliate me. Even though I was obedient in every way, his malice never ceased. Until his best friend, Leo Donovan, confessed his feelings for me in college. From then on, Ethan, surprisingly, stopped tormenting me. I saw Leo as my salvation, and on my birthday, we became intimate. But the very next day, I overheard a conversation between him and Ethan. Ethan’s voice was steeped in malice: “Did you get her first time on camera?” Leo chuckled mockingly: “Of course, high-definition, uncensored. If it weren’t to get back at you, I wouldn’t touch a home-wrecker like her.” I clapped a hand over my mouth, tears streaming down my face. My supposed salvation was nothing more than Ethan’s tool for revenge. Only, he didn’t know I had submitted my application to study abroad. I was never coming back. … In the private room. Ethan took a drag from his cigarette. “Ruin her reputation. Let’s see how she clings to living in my house after that.” “What if she can’t take it and something happens…” Ethan shot him a glance, scoffing. “So worried about her? Don’t tell me you actually fell for her?” Leo quickly denied it. “No way! I was just messing around with her.” “Chloe is coming back. I don’t have time to waste on Elara.” I stood outside the door, my heart a block of ice. Chloe Harrison was their childhood sweetheart, growing up with them, and Leo’s first love. Ethan always hated me; I knew that. He believed my mother’s appearance caused his mother’s suicide, so he transferred all that hatred onto me. After I started dating Leo, Ethan still didn’t care for me, but he didn’t torment me as he used to. I thought he had finally accepted me. I thought I was finally going to have a brother and eagerly anticipated a normal relationship with him. I never expected this, a revenge far more malicious than before. He and Leo had been inseparable since childhood; how could I have deluded myself into thinking he truly liked me? I had overestimated myself. I swallowed the bitterness in my throat and ran out like a madwoman. It was pouring rain outside. I was completely drenched. The moment I got home, I texted my professor, “Professor, I agree to go abroad with you for the project.” He was my mentor from an international competition, a leader in intelligent technology. I used to strive for excellence, desperately wanting my family’s approval. But no one ever cared. Not my mother, not Ethan. Because the project involved classified information, I couldn’t leave the research institute for three years, so I had refused it. Now, that no longer mattered. Perhaps it was the rain, but I curled up in a ball. Only after being startled awake by a nightmare did I realize I was burning up. Just as I was about to get up for fever medicine, my bedroom door was suddenly pushed open. Before I could speak, my mother, furious, threw a stack of photos at my face: “Elara Vance! How old are you to be sleeping with men? Are you that depraved?” Those photos were taken by Leo while I was asleep. My eyes were vacant, a profound sadness rising in my heart. Overnight, they couldn’t wait to spread the photos. Just two days ago, Leo had solemnly promised me: “I’ll take responsibility for you. We’ll get married after graduation.” He had plied me with a lot of alcohol, and under his persistent coaxing, I agreed. He pulled me into bed again and again, lost in primal desire. I was naive enough to think he truly loved me then. Seeing my silence, my mother relentlessly interrogated me: “Speak up, who took these? If anyone else sees these photos, your uncle and I will never be able to show our faces in society again!” She never cared about me, only herself. But when I said Leo’s name, my mother fell silent. She chastised me: “How could you get involved with the Donovan family’s son? We can’t afford to offend someone like him…” “Besides, you and Leo were dating normally. Even with evidence, we can’t do anything to him. Why didn’t you just say no?” I snapped my head up, my eyes wide with disbelief. She avoided my gaze: “Those photos have been taken down. Given time, no one will remember this.” The Donovans were powerful and wealthy, not someone the Mercers could easily offend. The moment the door closed, I saw Ethan standing at the top of the stairs, smiling at me, his eyes full of provocation. It was as if he had anticipated this outcome all along. The truth no longer mattered. A deep sense of powerlessness washed over me, drowning me in an instant. I crouched in the corner, sobbing uncontrollably. My phone began to buzz with incessant harassment messages. They sent disgusting words that made me nauseous. My hands trembled as I blocked all those numbers. My mother said she had arranged a long leave of absence from school for me, so I didn’t have to go. I didn’t want her to know about going abroad, so I would have to return to school myself to complete the paperwork. She was always too busy for me; she probably wouldn’t even notice if I left. Even though the photos had been deleted, almost everyone around me knew what had happened. Their gazes were filled with scrutiny and mockery, accompanied by whispers. “I never would have thought, she looks so innocent usually, but behind closed doors, she’s so wild. Who knows how many men she’s slept with?” “Who knows, don’t get too close to her. She might have an STD.” A suffocating mix of shame and fear enveloped me. My heart suddenly seized up, and I barely remembered how I left school. Walking disoriented on the street, I was stopped by several men approaching me. The leader pulled out a phone displaying my intimate photos, sizing me up with a sickening gaze. “This picture is you, right? You’ve got a great body.” “Playing so wild in private, how much for a night?” “Come on, have some fun with us. I want to taste what Leo Donovan’s girlfriend is like.” My body stiffened, and I took half a step back: “What do you want?” The men exchanged lewd smiles. Ignoring my struggles, they forcibly dragged me into a dimly lit alley. They grinned menacingly, pressing down on me. “Get off me! Don’t touch me!” But my hands and feet were pinned down; I couldn’t even struggle. I could only watch helplessly as their filthy hands reached for my body. The sound of tearing fabric filled my ears. “Don’t struggle. No one’s coming to save you. If you make us happy, we might go easy on you.” I bit my lip hard, the metallic taste of blood spreading in my mouth. Seizing the moment while they were taking off their clothes, I quickly pulled out the knife I had hidden in my bag. My hand holding the knife trembled: “Don’t come any closer, any of you…” The first time I was bullied, my mother said it was because I dressed provocatively and told me not to wear dresses anymore. But at that time, I was wearing my school uniform. If Ethan hadn’t appeared in time, I wouldn’t have known what to do. Since then, I always carried a fruit knife with me. My fear reached its peak. But they still grinned, unafraid, even trying to snatch the knife from my hand. In the struggle, the blade plunged into my chest. The leader panicked, as if afraid of causing a death, and released me. I collapsed to the ground, my clothes soaked in blood. My vision blurred. But I could hear them making a hushed phone call. “Mr. Mercer, something happened. She stabbed herself.” Ethan’s voice came from the other end of the line. “Is she dead?” Then Leo’s voice: “Ethan, you’re a real bastard. You actually hired people to ambush her.” Ethan sneered: “I just wanted to scare her. Whose fault is it if she wants to die?” “If she’s not dead, dump her at the hospital. Don’t let her know what happened today.” My heart felt like it was being violently squeezed, almost suffocating me with pain. So… he really wanted to destroy me. The words I had accidentally overheard him say flashed through my mind. “Actually, I know my mom wasn’t killed by her. But I just don’t want her to live in peace.” “My dad feels guilty towards them, but I certainly don’t.” Tears fell uncontrollably from the corners of my eyes. I completely lost consciousness. When I woke up again, I was in a hospital bed. Leo was by my side, and when he saw me wake, he immediately leaned in, concerned. “Baby, you’re finally awake. I was so worried.” Seeing my silence, his eyes flickered: “I saw those photos. I’m so sorry. I went out, got drunk, and someone took my phone by mistake and posted them.” “Don’t worry, I’ve had them all deleted. Don’t overthink it, I don’t mind any of it.” I looked at him quietly, my heart a dead wasteland. He was clearly the culprit, yet he was playing the savior. If he hadn’t relentlessly pursued me when I was at my most vulnerable, we never would have been together. But before I could even speak, his phone rang. He responded softly to whatever was said on the other end, then turned and left, phone still in hand, without a backward glance. No sooner had he left than Ethan walked in. Seeing my disheveled state, his eyes showed disgust as he said: “Do you know why he left in such a hurry? Chloe’s back in the country, and she’s not used to the environment, so she can’t sleep. He went to comfort her until she fell asleep. He won’t be protecting you anymore, so don’t delude yourself.” At his words, my body involuntarily trembled. Chloe Harrison was their childhood sweetheart, growing up with them, and Leo’s first love. Because Ethan’s mother once said Chloe resembled her, Ethan always catered to her every whim since they were children. I cherished Ethan as a brother, always trying to be good to him, but it was never enough to outweigh a single word from Chloe. I closed my eyes, a self-deprecating smile playing on my lips. Only now did I truly see that neither Leo nor Ethan ever truly cared for me. Normally, I would have apologized to appease him. But I merely turned my head indifferently: “Understood. It won’t happen again.” Ethan paused for a moment: “Leo isn’t here. Who are you putting on this pathetic act for?” He stormed out. Due to my severe injuries, I was in the hospital for a whole week. My mother, upon learning this, only transferred the hospital fees, then left on a business trip with Uncle Mercer, never visiting me. I was alone even on the day of my discharge. I took advantage of their absence to start packing. There wasn’t much to take, really. The things I once treasured were mostly Ethan’s handouts. Now, they were unnecessary.

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In the third year of my marriage to Arthur Hayes, he died unexpectedly in a car accident. I was inconsolable. It took me five full years to recover, finding solace through the comforting presence of his best friend, Ben Carter. Over time, living in such close proximity, feelings developed between us, and we decided to get married. But at the registrar’s office, the clerk looked at me with a strange expression. “Ma’am, our records indicate you’re already married and your marriage is still active. If you proceed, it could constitute bigamy.” At first, I didn’t believe it. But when I saw “Arthur Hayes” listed in the spouse column, both Ben and I froze. How could my husband, who had passed away five years ago, still be legally married to me? “Excuse me, could there be a system error?” I glanced awkwardly at Ben. “My former husband was indeed Arthur Hayes, but he died five years ago. Legally, a marriage automatically terminates upon the death of a spouse. How could I still be married to him?” The clerk grew impatient, her eyes scrutinizing me. “I’ve checked three times. Your husband, Arthur Hayes, is currently alive, and your marriage is legal and valid. There’s no mistake.” She wasn’t particularly quiet, and hearing her, people nearby shot me disdainful glances. “That woman has some nerve, bringing her lover to get married while her husband is still alive.” “Is she crazy? Does she not know marrying two people is bigamy?” “Can these people stop treating government officials like part of their twisted games?” Seeing the increasingly hostile looks from those around us, Ben quickly pulled me out. Back in the car, I still hadn’t recovered from the shock. Before Ben could offer comfort, I immediately pulled out my phone and called Arthur’s mother. After two rings, her cold voice was piercing. “Why are you calling me? Didn’t I tell you not to contact me again?” “What, you’re marrying Arthur’s best friend now, and you want to invite your former mother-in-law to the wedding?” I ignored her sarcastic tone and immediately asked, “Mom, please tell me, was Arthur truly dead back then? Was he faking his death to deceive me?” On the other end of the line, Arthur’s mother exploded like a sputtering oil pan, roaring at me in anger. “Evelyn Lane, do you have any conscience? Arthur died because of you! If you hadn’t suddenly craved cake in the middle of the night, would he have driven while fatigued and gotten into that accident? You personally identified his body; how dare you ask me such a thing? You have no conscience!” The call was abruptly cut off, but I remained suspicious. After all, though I had rushed to the scene of Arthur’s accident immediately, his body was so mangled from the impact that even his face was unrecognizable. We had identified him by his clothes and car. I took a deep breath, then took Ben to the police station that had handled the accident to check the records. Seeing the 100% DNA match, I froze. The person who died was indeed Arthur Hayes. But a dead man… how could he maintain a five-year marriage with me? Back home, Ben received an urgent call for overtime work. Before leaving, he hugged my shoulders, reassuring me softly. “Don’t be scared.” “I helped with Arthur’s funeral arrangements; he truly was… it couldn’t have been faked.” “Maybe something went wrong when the paperwork was processed. We’ll check again tomorrow; it might be nothing.” “Sweetheart, it’s your birthday today. Be happy.” “When I get back, we’ll celebrate properly.” Looking at Ben’s gentle eyes, my unease lessened considerably, and I nodded at him. After Arthur’s death, I was overcome with grief, on the verge of a complete mental breakdown. If Ben hadn’t canceled so much work to be with me, even using his connections to find me the best psychologist, I doubt I would have recovered so quickly. Although our relationship later wasn’t approved by many, and there were even some unpleasant rumors, I didn’t care. After all, I was living my own life. Sighing, I poured myself a cup of hot water, just about to calm my nerves. The doorbell suddenly rang. I thought it was Ben, having forgotten something. But when I opened the door, it was a smiling delivery man holding a bouquet of flowers. He enthusiastically said, “Is this Ms. Evelyn Lane? These are from your husband.” I took the bouquet, seeing the vibrant red roses, and the gloom in my heart instantly lifted. Just as I was about to snap a photo to send to Ben, the delivery man suddenly smiled and said, “You know, Mr. Hayes is truly thoughtful.” “Our shop had run out of roses, but he specially had the owner air-freight these from a neighboring city.” “Because he said your first meeting was at our shop, he insisted the roses be delivered under our shop’s name. So romantic…” The delivery man continued to chatter, but my face had instantly changed. “Wait.” I gripped the doorframe, my heart feeling like it was trying to leap out of my throat. “My husband, you said. What’s his last name?” The smile on the delivery man’s face froze. He looked at me strangely. “Mr. Hayes, of course. He orders flowers from our shop every year; he’s a regular customer.” Thud. The bouquet in my hand instantly fell to the ground. But I didn’t even bother to pick it up, staring at his face in shock, enunciating each word. “The Mr. Hayes you’re talking about, does he have a red mole between his eyebrows?” Seeing the delivery man nod in surprise, I immediately pulled out my phone, found a photo of Arthur’s ID, and showed it to him. “Is the Mr. Hayes you’re talking about him?” Now the delivery man looked at me even more strangely. “Of course it’s him, Ms. Lane. Are you messing with me? Don’t you know what your own husband looks like?” He scratched his head, gave me a look as if I were an idiot, and walked away. I held onto the doorframe, staring at the blood-red flowers on the ground, and suddenly noticed a greeting card tucked in the bouquet. But in previous years, the bouquets never had one. I picked up the card, and after reading its contents, a chill instantly crawled up my spine. Because the card clearly read: “Dearest wife, happy wedding anniversary. Your loving husband, Arthur Hayes.” I didn’t dare stay home alone. I hailed a taxi and went straight to my office. On the way, I messaged Ben, telling him what had just happened. But the man who always replied instantly didn’t respond. It wasn’t until I entered the office. Just as I was about to call him directly to ask what was going on, Liam, a colleague I was always friendly with, chuckled and came over. “Didn’t you take today off for a romantic day with your husband? Why are you back so soon?” I forced a faint smile, replying evasively, “He’s a bit busy, and I need to catch up on work, so I wanted to come back and organize some project files.” Liam gave me a knowing smile, pointing at a lunch bag on my desk. “Got it, got it. Your husband stood you up today. But he did make you a fancy meal to apologize. You should be gracious and forgive him.” Instantly, the smile on my face froze.

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My name is Dutch. I haul freight for a living. But you won’t see my rig parked at a Walmart loading dock, and I don’t move consumer goods. I specialize in the kind of “shadow contracts” that most drivers wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole. Word around the depots is that I’m hard to kill—that I was born under a dark star and have enough grit to stare down whatever crawls out of the roadside ditches. But this last job? The cargo was a truckload of “live fish,” and it damn near buried me. These weren’t your average catch. They were massive, housed in custom-built black timber crates that looked more like caskets than shipping containers. The creepiest part was the sealing protocol. Each lid had to be hammered shut with seven iron spikes, black as sin and thick as a finger. Curiosity is a dangerous thing on the road, but it got the better of me. I pried a corner open for a peek. Just one look. That’s all it took to make sure that for the rest of my life, the mere sight of open water makes my hands shake. Because what was swimming in that box wasn’t a fish. It was… 1 It was an open secret in the underground logistics circuit that the heir to the Vanderwalt fortune had a taste for fish. Rumor had it the young patriarch consumed a dozen massive sturgeons every month—creatures bigger than a grown man. Hauling for the Vanderwalts used to be the golden ticket—high pay, premium routes. But in the last three months alone, seven veteran drivers had vanished or washed out. When Russo, the owner of the logistics company, cornered me, he looked like he’d been drinking swamp water. His face was a sickly shade of green. “Dutch, I’m telling you, this is wrong. It’s unnatural,” Russo hissed, wiping sweat from his forehead. “We watched them load the crates. They looked like fish. They moved like fish.” “The Vanderwalts have money to burn,” I said, scrolling through the video file Russo had sent to my phone. “Why are they importing monster river monsters when they could be eating lobster on a yacht?” On the screen, a driver I vaguely recognized was curled up on the asphalt, sobbing. His skin was pale as chalk. “It’s not a fish!” he screamed at the person recording. “It’s people! I saw legs!” The camera panned to the overturned cargo. Sliding out of the splintered wood was a massive, glistening creature. It had scales, fins, and a tail. “That thing has to be five feet long,” I muttered, zooming in. “Growth hormones? Genetic splicing?” “Rich people and their sick hobbies, who knows?” Russo looked miserable. “Supposedly it’s some rare import. Young Mr. Vanderwalt craves the… freshness.” I lit a cigarette and watched the driver on the screen breakdown, swearing he’d never touch a steering wheel again. I knew then why Russo was begging me. “Dutch, I need you to bail me out. Just two more runs. If you don’t take this, the breach of contract fees will leave me without a pot to piss in.” Russo looked like he was about to get on his knees. The Vanderwalts weren’t just rich; they were powerful in ways that made the local police look the other way. I didn’t want their karma rubbing off on me. “You’ve been pulling too many cursed tickets lately, Russo,” I said, exhaling smoke. “I drive for a paycheck, not a death wish. The Vanderwalt water is too deep. People drown in it.” Russo sighed, the lines on his face deepening. “It’s the holidays, Dutch. The boys need the bonus. I warned them about the risks, but the Vanderwalt money… it made them blind. We would have folded three months ago without it.” Russo and I went way back. When I was at rock bottom, he was the one who fronted me the cash for repairs. “Look,” Russo pressed, seeing me hesitate. “Miller just got diagnosed with kidney failure. Lewis’s wife is expecting their second kid. They’re desperate.” He leaned in, voice dropping. “I’m all in on this. You do this run, I don’t take a cut. Every cent goes to you. If something happens… that’s on me. I won’t hold you to it.” He had me cornered. I couldn’t walk away when he put it like that. “Fine,” I crushed the cigarette under my boot. “Tell them I’m coming. But don’t start loading until I get there.” 2 The pickup point was a secluded hatchery deep in the marshlands, a private facility leased entirely by the Vanderwalts. It was a twenty-hour haul. When I rolled into the yard the next day, the massive crates were already staged. Because it was a “short” run relative to cross-country, the creatures were packed in thick, transparent industrial bags pumped full of oxygen before being crated. The size of them was unsettling. It took three burly dockworkers heaving in unison just to lift one bag into a box. And the boxes… why black timber? Why not fiberglass tanks or insulated coolers? lined up on the gravel, the vertical crates looked exactly like rows of coffins waiting for a mass burial. “Dutch.” Russo had saddled me with a rookie named Mikey. The kid looked like he’d been drafted for war. “Dutch, stay back,” Mikey whispered, scrunching his nose. “The smell… it burns your eyes even through the plastic.” He wasn’t wrong. As I got closer, a stench hit me—pungent, metallic, and rotting. Live fish smell like algae and river mud. They don’t smell like a week-old corpse. My gut tightened, but I walked up to the line. Before the workers could nail the lid shut, I leaned in. The creature inside hovered in the water, suspended. Its mouth gaped open and shut rhythmically. Its belly was a sickly, translucent white, contrasting with scales that shimmered a bruised grey-blue. The meat beneath looked dense. I checked the manifest. They were alive. Then the hammering started. The workers weren’t just sealing the crates; they were driving those seven black spikes in with a violence that made the wood groan. Clang. Clang. At the sound, the fish in the bags went berserk, thrashing against the plastic. That’s when I saw it. A detail that sent a cold spike of adrenaline down my spine. The fish were blinking. Fish don’t have eyelids. They live in the water; they don’t need to moisten their eyes. But I saw it clear as day. A thin, membranous layer of skin slid down over those milky, bulbous eyes and then retracted. Blink. Blink. 3 “Well, look at that. Russo actually found someone stupid enough to drive the hearse. I heard the last guy pissed his pants for three days straight.” The voice was oily and mocking. “Shut your mouth!” Mikey snapped. He was young and full of nervous energy. “We handle our business. Worry about your own.” “Easy there, pup. The grown-ups are talking.” “Slick,” I acknowledged without turning around. “Ah, Dutch. I should have known.” The bald man grinned, his scalp gleaming in the harsh sunlight. “I figured Russo brought in a heavy hitter.” I ignored him and looked past his shoulder. Standing behind Slick was his brother—a man known in the circuit as Twitch. Slick and Twitch were the bottom feeders of our industry. If I was the guy you called for a tough job, they were the guys you called to bury the evidence. 4 We have a term in the trade: “Pathfinding.” When a new route opens up, or an abandoned logging road needs to be run again, you send a veteran driver to test the waters. We call it “clearing the mines.” If the pathfinder makes it through without vanishing or crashing, the fleet follows. It pays double, sometimes triple. But you’re basically being paid to see if the road ghosts are hungry. Slick and Twitch made their living doing this. But they were dirty. They’d run you off the road to beat you to a contract. They’d sabotage your rig at a rest stop. I’d had run-ins with them before. My mentor used to tell me, “Don’t wrestle with pigs; you both get dirty, and the pig likes it.” Twitch, the younger brother, was the one who really turned my stomach. He didn’t talk much. He was short but had disturbingly long arms that hung past his knees, giving him the silhouette of a gibbon. People said I looked scary—I’m six-four, built like a linebacker, with a face that stops bar fights before they start. But if I looked like a bouncer, Twitch looked like a demon that had clawed its way out of a basement. It wasn’t just his looks. Twitch had a history. He’d done time for stalking and assault. He liked to hurt women. 5 “What are you doing here?” I lit a cigarette, stepping between them and Mikey. “Russo has the contract. You trying to poach?” Slick flashed a grin full of yellow teeth. “Relax, Dutch. We aren’t poaching. We’re the overflow. The client said the volume was too high for one truck. We’re splitting the load. Everybody eats.” I glanced back at the loading dock. There were at least thirty of those coffin-crates. Too many for my flatbed. “Fine,” I said. “Stay out of my lane, I’ll stay out of yours.” Honestly, I was relieved. If they wanted to share the curse of the Vanderwalt job, they were welcome to it. 6 We loaded up and rolled out first. Mikey was fuming. Slick had spat on the ground near his boots before we left. “Garbage humans,” Mikey muttered, gripping the dash. “Slick and Twitch have been rotting in this business for twenty years,” I said calmly. “They’re dangerous. Keep your distance. Don’t engage.” Mikey grumbled but quieted down. I wasn’t just lecturing him. There was a darkness around those brothers that went beyond just being jerks. 7 Over a decade ago, back when I was still riding shotgun with my mentor, there was an old-timer who took on a young apprentice. The kid was barely seventeen, pretty in a way that made you look twice. Soft features, bright eyes. We called him Jamie. We were all stuck at a rest stop during a blizzard. Jamie had the bad luck of running into the brothers in the bathroom. We heard the shouting through the walls. Jamie was crying, screaming that Twitch had cornered him in a stall. My mentor and the old-timer kicked the door in. Twitch was on the kid. It turned into a brawl. I was the only one big enough to pin Twitch down. I held his face against the dirty tile floor, and when I looked into his eyes, I didn’t see fear. I saw red, frantic arousal. It wasn’t human. The cops were called, but without physical evidence, nothing stuck. But the bad luck started immediately for the old-timer. Tires blowing out on straight roads. Engines catching fire. Jamie blamed himself. He went to confront the brothers alone. No one knows exactly what happened. We just know that Jamie jumped off a bridge the next night. When they fished him out, he was bloated beyond recognition. The old-timer quit the life, heartbroken. He told my mentor one thing before he vanished: “You can dodge a bullet, but you can’t dodge a curse. Those two aren’t men; they’re devils.” 8 I shook the memory off. We were on the access road now, heading for the highway. It was desolate country. The dirt road was riddled with potholes. The truck bounced violently. Maybe it was the suspension, or maybe it was the load, but I kept hearing sloshing sounds from the back. Mikey was curled up in the passenger seat, looking pale. “Take a nap,” I said. “We’ll switch in a few hours.” “I’m not tired,” Mikey said quickly. Too quickly. He looked like a cornered animal. “I slept great last night.” I wanted to ask what he’d seen on the manifest, but I didn’t want to spook him further. Suddenly, a rhythmic thumping started from the cargo hold. Thump… Thump… It was heavy. Deliberate. Mikey’s face went grey. He stared at his knees, twisting his hands together until his knuckles turned white. “Just the water displacement,” I lied. “Road’s rough.” Mikey didn’t answer. The noise got louder. Faster. It didn’t sound like fish tails slapping water. It sounded like wet, heavy palms slamming against the wood. I pressed down on the accelerator. “We’ll be on the interstate soon. It’ll smooth out.” 9 Once we hit the pavement, the thumping stopped. “See?” I told Mikey. “Physics.” He nodded, but the color didn’t come back to his cheeks. Around noon, we pulled over at a gravel lot where a guy was selling hot meals out of a converted trailer. “Get out, get some air,” I ordered. The cab smelled like a fish market that had lost power three days ago. Mikey stumbled out, breathing in the cold air. He ordered the braised pork over rice and a chicken leg. I chatted with the food vendor while I ate. He mentioned traffic was thin; drivers were avoiding this route. Behind me, Mikey let out a strangled scream and hurled his lunch container across the lot. “What is that?! What the hell is that?!” He fell to his knees, clawing at his mouth, trying to dig the food out of his throat. The vendor looked terrified. “Hey! That meat is fresh! Bought it this morning!” “No! No!” Mikey was gagging, tears streaming down his face. I grabbed a water bottle from the truck and flushed his mouth out. He retched violently, vomiting a pile of half-chewed pork onto the gravel. And there, glistening in the mess, were several scales. They were the size of thumbnails. Grey-blue. 10 The vendor poked at the mess with a stick. “I didn’t cook any fish today. Where did those come from?” He tried to refund us, but I waved him off. It wasn’t his fault. Just then, the screech of air brakes announced the arrival of the brothers. Slick hopped out of their rig. “Look at that. Kid’s got a weak stomach. Typical.” Twitch stood by the fender. His face was flushed a deep, unnatural red, like he’d downed a bottle of vodka. He was vibrating with energy. I recognized that look. It was the look he got when things were about to go wrong. He was hunting. Mikey was still dry heaving. I hauled him back into the cab. As I pulled away, I checked the mirror. Twitch was staring at our truck, a twisted, predatory smile stretching his face. 11 I drove the afternoon shift. Mikey was a wreck, shaking too hard to hold a cigarette. I kept the windows down, letting the freezing wind blast through the cab to scrub out the smell. We stopped for the night at a motel in a small, forgotten town at the base of the mountains. The next leg was a treacherous climb, icy and narrow. I wasn’t risking it in the dark. The motel was a dive—peeling paint, neon sign buzzing—but it had a big lot for rigs. The lobby doubled as a diner. Mikey picked at two hard-boiled eggs and nursed a beer, trying to drown the memory of lunch. The bell above the door chimed. Ding, ding… It was a sharp, piercing sound. Mikey didn’t even flinch, seemingly deaf to it. I looked up. A girl walked in. She couldn’t have been more than twenty. She wore a faded white down coat and tapped the floor with a white cane. 12 What was a blind girl doing alone in a place like this? The diner was full of truckers—rough men, smoke, grease. The owner, a portly woman, hurried over. “Honey, are you lost?” The girl turned her head slightly, guided by the sound. “I need a room. A single.” Her voice was soft but clear. “We… we aren’t really set up for… look, there’s a chain hotel two streets over. Much safer,” the owner stammered. She didn’t want the liability. “I want to stay here,” the girl insisted. “It’s what I can afford.” Before the owner could argue, the door opened again. A gust of snow blew in. Slick and Twitch. Twitch looked even worse than before. His eyes were bloodshot, bulging. As soon as he saw the girl, he froze. His gaze crawled over her, disgusting and palpable. The girl sensed the new presence. She shrank back, fumbling to hand her ID and cash to the owner. The owner, sensing the tension, quickly ushered the girl toward the stairs. Twitch watched them go, his Adam’s apple bobbing. 13 “Mikey.” I shoved five hundred bucks into the kid’s hand. “Go to the owner. Tell her to move that girl to the hotel down the street. I’m paying.” Mikey blinked, confused, but saw the look on my face and scrambled off. Twitch whipped his head around, staring at me with those dead, frantic eyes. I slammed my hand on the table. “What are you looking at? Sit down. We’re drinking.” Slick glanced between me and his brother. He knew I wouldn’t let them leave that room until the girl was gone. Mikey came back, nodding to indicate the girl was safe. I kept the brothers at the table until midnight. Slick talked shop, trying to fish for details about the payout. Twitch just drank. He poured cheap whiskey down his throat until the veins in his neck looked like they were going to burst. Finally, Slick dragged his brother to their room next door. I helped Mikey upstairs. The kid passed out the second he hit the mattress. 14 That night, the nightmare found me. I wasn’t in the motel. I was back in the truck, parked in pitch blackness. A figure, dripping wet, approached the window. The voice sounded like sandpaper on bone. “Driver… when do we leave?” I tried to open my eyes, but they were glued shut. “Driver… it’s so stuffy in the bag. I can’t breathe.” Panic set in. I could smell the cargo. The brine. The rot. Then, something cold and slimy wrapped around my throat. Wet hair. But it wasn’t just hair—it was matted with scales and chunks of raw meat. It tightened. Ding, ding… The bell. Was the girl back? My heart hammered against my ribs. She shouldn’t be here. Twitch was a powder keg. I thrashed in the dream, finally tearing the wet hair from my neck. I woke up gasping. 15 The room was silent. Gray morning light filtered through the dirty curtains. No bell. Just a nightmare. Mikey was curled in a fetal ball, shivering. I shook him awake. “Wash up. We move in ten.” We walked out into the hallway just as Slick opened his door. “Morning, Dutch.” I grunted, intending to walk past. But my eyes caught the inside of their room. Two beds. One was a mess of tangled sheets. The other was pristine. Unslept in. Where was Twitch? Slick saw me looking. He smirked, a lewd, knowing expression. “He found his own way back. Guess the little lady has a thing for bad boys. Don’t be a prude, Dutch.” 16 “What did you say?” I grabbed Slick by the collar and slammed him against the wall. “Hey! Easy! They’re consenting adults!” Slick yelped. “I swear to god…” Mikey grabbed my arm, holding me back. The commotion brought the motel owner running up the stairs. “What is going on?!” I spun on her. “The blind girl. Did she come back? Which room?” She looked terrified. “The… the utility room at the end of the hall. She said she forgot something…” I threw Slick aside and sprinted down the hallway. I knew what Twitch was capable of. I knew about Jamie. Slick chased after me. “He hasn’t had a woman in years! Don’t ruin this for him—” Before he could finish, a scream tore through the building.

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On my twenty-third birthday, I was preparing to confess my feelings to Julian. But he beat me to it, falling in love at first sight with my roommate. I watched them break up and get back together, endlessly entangled. Finally, I gave up completely and started dating someone else. The day I announced my new relationship on Facebook, everyone offered genuine congratulations. Julian never showed up. It wasn’t until the next day that someone brought it up in front of him. “Did you see that post? What do you think of Summer’s new boyfriend?” The man leaned back diagonally on the sofa, glancing at me upon hearing the question. After a long time, he finally spoke slowly, “Oh, he’s average.” 1 As soon as Julian finished speaking, the room fell silent for a moment. Everyone’s eyes turned to me. Some watched from the sidelines, while others looked worried and anxious. In this day and age, everyone loves posting short videos and status updates. Two people standing shoulder to shoulder, smiling and clearly in love—who wouldn’t want to hear others call them a perfect match? But Julian had to be the one to bluntly evaluate him as, “Oh, average.” He was a guy who, despite having a bit of a temper, was usually very polite in his dealings with others. Acting like this now… it was as if he was deliberately trying to embarrass me. Suppressing the anger in my heart, I asked him. “What’s wrong with my boyfriend?” In fact, Evan is very handsome. Even my picky mother couldn’t help but compliment him after meeting him. “Compared to your friend named Julian, he doesn’t fall short at all.” I stared at Julian, my expression showing my displeasure. But he suddenly let out a tired smile. Then he glanced at me, “Just a casual remark, don’t take it to heart.” “Bring him around sometime when you’re free.” With that, he stood up without hesitation and left. He didn’t spare me another half a glance. So, someone tried to comfort me, saying, “Tsk, almost forgot. He just went through a breakup with his girlfriend, so he’s probably feeling really frustrated right now.” “It’s fine. Aren’t they always like this? They’ll be back together in a few days.” Saying this, the person glanced at me. “Don’t you think so, Summer?” I spaced out for a moment. “Yeah, that’s right.” They had been entangled for so long; how could they separate so easily? Over the past few years, I had hoped time and time again, only to be disappointed time and time again. I should have understood this long ago, shouldn’t I? 2 Coming out of the private room, I saw Julian smoking not far away. He rarely did that. Because Mia didn’t like it. He was acting really out of character tonight. I was still angry about what happened earlier, so I didn’t speak to him and walked straight outside. But I hadn’t even taken two steps before someone grabbed my wrist. I turned around and met a pair of cold, indifferent eyes. Even when I first met him, I heard people say that Julian, the famous young master of the Vance family, had been raised as the heir since childhood. He was precious and privileged. The people who wanted to date him could form a line around the block, but he never gave anyone a second look. Later, when Julian and I became close, everyone praised my good luck. For all these years, I was the only female friend by his side. Inevitably, some people made snide remarks: “Who knows if one day she’ll go from friend to girlfriend, flying up to a higher branch and becoming Mrs. Vance?” It wasn’t that I hadn’t dreamed that beautiful dream. But later, when Mia appeared, I realized she was his true destiny. He had remained single for over twenty years, all to wait for her. As for me, I was just lucky enough to be acquainted with him. Under the dim light, he stared at me, his expression somewhat careless. He said. “How did you meet?” I didn’t react immediately, freezing for a moment. He patiently repeated himself. “I mean, how did you meet that guy?” 3 It was a cold, snowy day. Julian instinctively turned his body to block the cold wind blowing from afar for me. I looked at his features and remained silent for a moment. “We met while traveling. I thought he was pretty nice, so we got together.” There is a phrase called “perfect timing.” That probably describes Evan and me. Hearing this, Julian lifted his eyelids. “Traveling? When did you go out to play? How come I didn’t know?” I smiled, “Just last month.” He probably no longer remembered that one night last month, he called me late, saying he and Mia had a fight and she had angrily gone abroad. He said: “You two are the closest, go over and talk to her. In a foreign country, if she insists on staying there, she’ll suffer grievances.” I packed my bags overnight and traveled thousands of miles with him, but shortly after landing, he received news that Mia had already gone somewhere else. Round trip, it was over a dozen hours of travel. I happened to get a high fever and couldn’t accompany him on his frantic journey anymore. He had no choice but to leave me behind and go look for Mia. After he left, I stood by the riverbank, looking at the bright moon on the other side, and suddenly felt exhausted. To stay by his side, I had given up a stable job in my hometown. Even when my father was hospitalized last year, I couldn’t be by his side. Time is ruthless. What had I gained, and what had I lost? No one knew. My thoughts returning, I looked at Julian in front of me and spoke very calmly. “Are you done asking? I have to go.” He froze. After a long time, he finally spoke again. “Lend me your phone for a second. Mia blocked me.” Actually, I really wanted to ask—with so many people in the private room, did you have to ask to borrow mine? But I didn’t say it in the end. After all, all those feelings of joy, sadness, and despair, from beginning to end, were known only to me. In his eyes, I was a perfect friend, completely unrelated to romance. I took out my phone and handed it to him. He took it and walked to the side to make a call. They talked for quite a while. When Julian came back, his expression was no longer as tense as before. His eyes held a smile as he handed the phone back to me. Just then, a message suddenly popped up on the screen. Evan: [I’m returning to Seattle at the end of the month.] In an instant, the smile on Julian’s face vanished. He frowned, his voice flat: “Your relationship seems pretty good.” 4 Since I had decided to let go, I began intentionally distancing myself from Julian’s circle. I muted these people’s posts on social media. And I stopped going to the places they frequented. One day, Julian messaged me. [Your birthday is in a couple of days. Want to come check out the venue?] He was very generous. Every time a friend had a birthday, he would put his all into helping organize it. I wasn’t the first, nor was I the only one. But to this day, I still remember that on my twenty-third birthday, Julian pointed to Mia not far away and asked me, “Is that your friend? Give me her WeChat.” A talented man and a beautiful woman, a perfect match. I guess they should thank me, the matchmaker. Later, I heard someone ask Julian, why did it have to be Mia? At the time, he was texting Mia. Hearing the question, he smiled, raised his eyebrows, and said, “She was wearing a red dress that day. I’ve rarely seen anyone wear that color so well.” But who would remember that I also wore a red dress that day? For many years after that, I never touched clothes in that color again. Thinking of this, I typed. [I’ve been busy lately. No need.] He took a long time to reply. [Busy dating?] I replied, [Yeah.] After sending that message, he didn’t reply again. However, his best friend, Liam, sent me a voice message, saying playfully, “Wow, you’re amazing, Summer. Julian put a lot of effort into planning your birthday party this time. We all stayed up late for several nights helping out, and you just decide not to come. He’s furious, hahaha.” I gave a brief, casual reply. Just then, a red notification popped up on my email. I clicked it. It was an employment offer. I thought about it, feeling a bit happy, and messaged Evan. [Once I finish handing over my current work, I can process my resignation. We can go back to Portland together then.] He replied, [Okay.] This guy looked serious and spoke meticulously. But looking at this one word. I inexplicably smiled. 5 Neither Evan nor I were very talkative people; we only chatted when there was something to say. But I didn’t expect him to return early. He came back specifically to celebrate my birthday with me. In an elegantly decorated western restaurant, he handed me a gift bag. “Sorry, I only found out it was your birthday today after seeing your mom’s post.” After we decided to be together, we quickly met each other’s parents, planning to get engaged once we returned to Portland. Lately, my mom kept telling me: “Evan is a good guy. He often sends me things. You should treat him well.” Halfway through the meal, Evan went out to take a call. After he left, I looked down at my phone. I happened to see a post from Liam. [Someone save me!? Julian is acting crazy today, insisting on a drinking contest with me. I’m about to drink myself to death here, and his face isn’t even red. I can’t survive this.] Liam had a lively personality and often posted things like this, so I wasn’t too surprised when I read those words. I was just a little surprised. That day outside the private room, Julian borrowed my phone to call Mia, and they had clearly reconciled. Acting like this now, did they fall out again? You couldn’t blame me for thinking this way. Julian’s life had been smooth sailing; aside from love, he would absolutely never suffer any hardship elsewhere. Just as I thought this, a phone call came in. It was Liam. We had a pretty good relationship, and I was afraid something had really happened to him, so I answered it immediately. His voice was drunk. “Hey, I’m telling you, Julian is simply not human…” Halfway through, his voice got quieter and quieter until it disappeared. I called his name twice. There was no response. Just as I was about to hang up, someone finally spoke. It was Julian. His voice was cold, a little hoarse. “This guy couldn’t hold his liquor and passed out on the table. It’s nothing serious.” I said: “Oh, as long as everything’s fine.” He was silent for a moment, then asked, “What about you? How was your day? Are you happy?” I was just about to answer when Evan returned from outside and asked who I was talking to. I said. “A friend.” When I looked down again, the call had already been hung up. 6 After hanging up, I felt a little unsettled. Evan pushed the cut steak in front of me, his movements natural and elegant. “What’s wrong? Is there an emergency at work?” He was always like this, emotionally stable and very measured. He would never be like Julian, moody over trivial things, needing to be coaxed and pampered. Looking at Evan’s calm eyes, the annoyance in my heart suddenly dissipated for the most part. “It’s nothing. Just an ordinary friend who drank too much and is acting crazy.” Evan smiled and didn’t ask any more questions, just poured me a glass of warm water. “Drink some water, soothe your throat.” The meal was very pleasant. As we were finishing, Evan pulled a velvet box from his pocket. The pendant was a very translucent jade stone in the shape of a peace buckle. Just looking at it made you feel at ease. He put it on me, his warm fingertips brushing against my neck. “Summer, happy birthday. I wish you peace and safety year after year.” No grand vows, no earth-shattering fanfare. Just this simple, unadorned “peace and safety year after year.” I touched the peace buckle, my eyes feeling a little hot. These past few years by Julian’s side, I had seen too much extravagance and received too many expensive but cold luxury items. But I had never experienced this kind of grounded warmth. It was 10 PM by the time I got home. Evan walked me to the lobby of my apartment building, politely kissed my forehead, and left. I had just turned around to go upstairs when a harsh screeching of brakes came from behind. Followed by rapid footsteps. My wrist was grabbed tightly, with a force that felt like it would crush my bones. I turned my head in pain and met Julian’s bloodshot eyes. He smelled of alcohol and looked a bit disheveled, completely devoid of his usual aloof, aristocratic demeanor. “That guy… is your boyfriend?” His voice was terribly hoarse, as if filled with gravel. I frowned and tried to pull my hand away. “Julian, you’re hurting me. Let go.” Not only did he not let go, but his grip tightened, his eyes locked dead on the necklace around my neck. The peace buckle shone with a gentle glow under the streetlight, but it seemed to sting his eyes. “What’s so great about this broken rock? How much is it worth?” He sneered, his tone full of disdain. “If you like jewelry, I have a bunch. Cartier, Bvlgari, pick whatever you want. How can you wear this cheap junk out in public?” Listening to his cruel words, the anger in my heart “whooshed” right up. How come I never realized he had such a mean mouth before? “Julian, this is a token of my boyfriend’s affection. In my eyes, it’s priceless.” I looked at him coldly. “Also, it’s late. If you’ve had too much to drink, go home and sleep. Don’t come here acting crazy.” Julian froze for a moment, as if he didn’t expect me to speak to him like that. The old Summer was always soft-spoken and completely obedient to him. If he even frowned, I’d be anxious for a long time. But now, the way I looked at him was like looking at an unreasonable stranger. This realization made him even more frustrated. He leaned in abruptly, pinning me against the wall of the lobby. The strong smell of alcohol mixed with tobacco rushed over me, making me instinctively hold my breath. “Summer, are you getting back at me?” He stared into my eyes, asking through gritted teeth. “Because I said he was ‘average’ before? So you deliberately brought him to make me mad? That guy looks like a bookworm. Aside from being decent-looking, how does he compare to me?” I laughed out of extreme anger. “Julian, do you think the whole world revolves around you?” “I’m dating for my own happiness, not to make you mad, and certainly not to get back at you. You aren’t that important to me.” As soon as this sentence came out, the air seemed to solidify. Julian’s pupils contracted sharply, a flash of astonishment on his face, followed by a deeper gloom. “Not that important?” He repeated those words as if he had heard the biggest joke in the world. “Summer, you ran after me for seven years. And now you’re telling me I’m not important?” He let go of my wrist, but suddenly reached out to yank the necklace from my neck. “Since it’s not important, take off this piece of junk! It’s an eyesore!” “Are you crazy?!” I panicked and desperately tried to protect the necklace. During the struggle, the red string snapped. The peace buckle fell to the ground with a “smack,” rolled twice, and split in half. The world instantly went quiet. I looked at the shattered jade on the ground, my heart feeling like it had been viciously stabbed by something. That was the first birthday gift Evan gave me. It represented his blessing of “peace and safety year after year.” And just like that, Julian destroyed it. I slowly crouched down and picked up the two pieces of broken jade, the sharp edges biting into my palm. When I looked up again, I stared at Julian, the last bit of warmth vanishing from my eyes. “Julian, you are truly disgusting.” After saying that, I didn’t spare him another glance, turned around, and went upstairs. Behind me, I heard Julian’s somewhat panicked shout: “Summer…” I slammed the lobby door shut heavily, isolating his voice in the night. 7 The next day, I took time off work to go get the peace buckle fixed. The master craftsman said it could be repaired using the gold-inlaid jade technique, but there would always be a crack. Just like my relationship with Julian—it was completely shattered, and no matter how it was repaired, it could never go back to the way it was. When I returned to the office, I happened to run into Liam joking around with the receptionist. Seeing me, his eyes lit up, and he came over. “Hey, Summer, you’re looking good today. Did Julian go see you last night?” I subtly avoided his touch and said lightly, “Yeah, came and threw a drunken fit.” The smile on Liam’s face froze for a second, then he laughed awkwardly. “Hey, you know how Julian is, right? Tough talker, soft heart. He drank too much last night and kept muttering your name. He actually still cares about you…” “Liam.” I cut him off, my tone calm. “I’ve already submitted my resignation. I’m leaving next month.” Liam’s eyes widened as if he had seen a ghost. “Holy shit? Resigning? Where are you going? Does Julian know?” “Going back to my hometown, or to another city. Haven’t decided yet. As for whether Julian knows, it has nothing to do with me.” I didn’t want to waste any more breath on him, turned around, and went into the office. Not long after, Julian called. I immediately hung up and blocked the number. I also deleted his WeChat. These actions flowed smoothly. After doing them, I felt completely refreshed. Since I had decided to cut ties, I would cut them cleanly. In the afternoon, while I was handing over my work, the receptionist said someone was looking for me. I thought it was Evan and ran out smiling, but it turned out to be Mia. She wore a high-end designer suit, carrying a limited-edition bag, still exuding her usual aloof goddess vibe. Seeing me, she took off her sunglasses, looked me up and down, and a mocking smile touched her lips. “I heard you’re resigning? What, did Julian break your heart so much you’re planning to run away?” I looked at her, my heart completely undisturbed. I used to think she was my romantic rival, an insurmountable mountain between Julian and me. Now it seemed she was just a pitiful person spoiled rotten by Julian. “Ms. Mia, if you don’t have any actual business, I’m going to get back to work.” I didn’t want to engage with her and turned to leave. “Stop right there!” Mia stomped her high heels and blocked my path, her face looking a bit ugly. “Summer, stop pretending. Do you think playing hard to get works on Julian? He did go to see you last night, but when he came back, he told me you were just a plaything he could summon and dismiss at will.” She raised her chin, as if asserting dominance. “He and I are destined to get married. With your status, you’re not even worthy to carry his shoes.” Watching her try to act tough while feeling insecure, I suddenly found it a bit funny. “Mia, are you in such a rush to assert dominance because Julian called my name last night?” Mia’s face turned pale; I had clearly hit the nail on the head. I smiled and continued, “Don’t worry, I have no interest in your Julian. I’ve already thrown that man away. If you like picking up trash, hold on tight, and don’t let him out to disgust people anymore.” “Who are you calling trash?!” Mia raised her hand in a flustered rage, trying to slap me. But her wrist was intercepted mid-air. By a slender, powerful hand. Evan had arrived at some point. He was wearing simple casual clothes, but his presence was overwhelming. He threw Mia’s hand aside, protected me behind him, and his eyes were icy. “Miss, please show some self-respect.” Mia rubbed her wrist and glared at Evan. “And who are you? This is between her and me. It’s none of your business to interfere!” “I am Summer’s fiancé.” Evan’s voice wasn’t loud, but it was firm and resounding. “Her business is my business. If you dare touch her again, I wouldn’t mind having security escort you out.” Mia probably hadn’t seen such a tough man before, and she was stunned for a moment. At this moment, there was a commotion at the lobby entrance. Julian strode in, followed by a breathless Liam. Seeing this scene, Julian’s face instantly darkened. He quickly walked over to Mia’s side but locked his gaze dead on me. “Summer, what is the meaning of this? Blocking my calls, deleting my WeChat, and now ganging up with an outsider to bully Mia?” I peeked out from behind Evan, looking at this man who couldn’t tell right from wrong, feeling only ridiculous. “Julian, which eye did you use to see me bully her? She was the one who came to my company to cause a scene and even tried to hit me. What, are only the privileged allowed to act out, while the rest of us just have to take it?” Julian frowned and looked at Mia. Mia immediately put on a wronged expression and clung to Julian’s arm. “Julian, I just heard Summer was leaving and wanted to come say goodbye. Who knew she would say such awful things and even call you… call you trash.” Julian’s face instantly turned as black as the bottom of a pot. He stared at me, gritting his teeth: “You called me trash?” I fearlessly met his gaze. “Is it not true? Eating from the bowl while eyeing the pot, clearly having a girlfriend but still coming to harass your ‘ex-friend’. Julian, if you aren’t trash, what are you?” “Good, very good.” Julian laughed out of extreme anger, saying the word “good” twice. He pointed at Evan, his eyes sinister. “You’re falling out with me over a man like this? Summer, don’t you regret this!” I clung tightly to Evan’s arm, smiling openly. “The biggest regret of my life was meeting you. As for Evan, he is a thousand, ten thousand times better than you.” It was as if Julian had been viciously slapped across the face; his complexion turned a mix of pale and green. He stared fixedly at my hand holding Evan’s arm, emotions I couldn’t understand churning in his eyes. Like anger, but also like… panic.

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I was born with a naturally high-pitched, sweet voice. To many, I sounded incredibly fake and overly precious. My childhood friend, Liam, loved to mock me for it. He jokingly referred to me to the whole class as his “little delicate trophy wife.” A classmate mimicked my voice, exaggerating the pitch: “Oh, little squeaker, Liam doesn’t actually like girls who act this fake.” I shook my head. “I’m not trying to be anything for anyone. This is just how my voice sounds.” “Why are you trying to force me to change who I am?” Her face froze, her mouth opening to argue. I cut her off. “Or are you just jealous of me?” She was speechless, glaring at me with pure resentment. I stood up, adjusted my pink scarf, picked up my textbook, and brushed past her shoulder. A dozen pairs of eyes followed me. They locked onto my pink watch. “Chloe is so incredibly fake.” “I bet even her underwear is pink.” The tiny, dense whispers flowed continuously into my ears. I silently opened my textbook and said in my soft, quiet voice, “It’s morning reading time. Please stop gossiping.” The chattering stopped for a few seconds, only to erupt even louder. It felt like they were doing it just to spite me. “Her voice is so strained it’s probably going to give out. She sounds like an old witch.” “Does she actually think anyone finds that baby voice cute?” Liam sat in the corner, watching me lazily, a smirk playing on his lips. He always seemed to enjoy watching me struggle. I scanned the classroom and slapped my hand hard on the podium. “If you have a problem, take it up with the teacher.” The classroom finally fell silent. By the time morning reading ended, a layer of sweat had broken out on my forehead. Returning to my seat, I felt a bit dazed. The mocking words and sneering looks from earlier replayed on an endless loop in my mind. Even though this was far from the first time, I still needed a thick skin to endure it. I led the morning reading once a week. And just because I liked the color pink and had a soft, high-pitched voice… I was treated like a freak in my own class. Suddenly, someone tapped my shoulder. I didn’t turn around, continuing to organize my desk. Liam shoved a carton of strawberry milk into my hand, raising an eyebrow. “Chloe, you’re not going to cry, are you?” His words sounded comforting, but his expression betrayed an unmistakable thrill of excitement. I quietly handed the milk back to him. His eyes darkened, his mood souring instantly. “I thought you liked pink? What’s wrong, did a few words really break your fragile little heart?” “Look, your voice is pretty fake, but I’m used to it…” I slammed the milk onto the floor. “I don’t need it.” Secretive glances darted our way; half the class was suddenly very interested in our conversation. The veins in Liam’s neck bulged, his expression turning cold. “Chloe, stop being such a drama queen.” I stood up and walked around him to go to the restroom. He stuck right by my side, his shoulder brushing my back, speaking through gritted teeth. “Chloe, what is your problem today?” “Are you actually mad?” I stopped dead in my tracks, my fists clenched tight. I stopped so abruptly that Liam couldn’t react in time and almost tripped over his own feet. He looked annoyed. “If you insist on wearing pink, you have to be prepared for people to talk trash.” “This is the STEM track. It’s not some humanities class full of girls.” I cut him off. “Liam, are you done talking?” He yanked on a strand of my hair, making my scalp sting. “There you go, acting like a baby again.” “Little squeaker, you…” I fiercely swatted his hand away. “You’re psychotic. What does my favorite color have to do with you?” Leaving that sentence hanging in the air, I walked into the girls’ restroom. From outside the door, I could hear Liam’s furious voice. “You act like such a weirdo! Who else is going to pity you besides me?!” He kept rambling, continuously trying to tear me down. I pulled a tissue from my pocket to wipe my sweat. The pink bunny printed on the packaging suddenly felt glaring, making my eyes ache. I just didn’t understand. When I chose the STEM track, Liam was incredibly surprised. That day, he tugged on my backpack strap, looking both thrilled and arrogant. “You got put in the same class as me.” I froze, a wave of disappointment washing over me. I was good at math and science, so of course, I chose STEM. But I didn’t want to share a classroom with him. An emotion I couldn’t decipher swirled in Liam’s eyes. He spoke to me like a scolding parent: “Since you chose STEM, you shouldn’t wear so much pink anymore.” I was stunned. He looked down his nose at me. “Not everyone is going to spoil you like I do.” I yanked my backpack strap out of his grip and frowned at him. “I’ll wear whatever I want.” Liam’s voice dropped. “Then don’t come crying to me later.” I stared at him in disbelief. I had known Liam for over a decade. He always loved lecturing me about being “too soft.” He was constantly trying to make me cry, to make me submit to him. In elementary school, I had a pink water bottle. He scraped the paint off of it just to mess with me. “Chloe, your bottle isn’t pink anymore. Are you still gonna drink from it?” The bottle showed patches of cold, ugly silver metal. Liam looked incredibly smug. “Are you gonna cry?” I bit my lip, fought back my tears, and got so mad I actually got into a physical fight with him. Afterward, he wore that fight like a badge of honor, constantly repeating, “See? You don’t need pink.” Someone once pointed out to him: “She’s just faking it to get attention.” Liam nodded in agreement. “Yeah, Chloe is just a fake, precious girl.” I had sniffled and run out of the classroom, totally devastated. The emotional blow was so severe that for a while, just seeing the color pink gave me anxiety. I was terrified of Liam calling me fake, and terrified of my classmates’ mockery. I started wearing black and white clothes and stopped using anything pink. But Liam just laughed again. “Your voice is so soft and weak, it constantly sounds like you’re whining for attention.” My palms turned ice cold. I grabbed the hem of my shirt, completely lost. From that day on, I didn’t dare speak up in class, and I stopped making eye contact with my classmates. My dad noticed something was wrong and sat me down for a long talk. “Chloe, why don’t you like pink anymore? And why haven’t you been talking to me…” I blinked, and the tears I had been holding back finally fell, drip, drop, soaking his suit jacket. “Dad, liking pink is a mistake.” “Why does my voice sound like this? It’s so high and squeaky.” My dad sighed. “You were born with that voice. It’s a gift you inherited from your mother.” “If you care too much about what other people think, you’ll never be happy.” I wiped my tears. “But they all say I’m faking it.” He pulled a brand-new pink water bottle from behind his back. “Pink is a very soft color,” he said gently. “But you don’t have to be as fierce as a sunflower, or as glamorous as a rose.” “Just being a cute, pretty pink flower is perfectly fine.” The dark clouds in my heart finally parted. Liking pink wasn’t a mistake. The next time Liam tried to provoke me, he realized I was bulletproof. He pulled my hair and stole my pink hair clips. I kept my eyes facing forward and treated him like he didn’t exist. Liam muttered in frustration, “Why aren’t you crying?” I just scoffed, and went right back to wearing the brightest pinks and speaking in my naturally soft voice as I walked around campus. I thought that as we grew older, people would stop gossiping about me. I didn’t realize that in the STEM track, pink was basically a taboo. After we split into our specialized tracks, my class was 70% boys. They usually wore black, white, or gray. When I walked into the classroom carrying a bunch of pink school supplies, I instantly drew everyone’s attention. People started whispering. I silently walked to my seat. When it was my turn to introduce myself, my high, soft voice triggered a wave of laughter. “Oh my god, so precious. It’s giving me goosebumps.” “Why didn’t she choose the humanities track? She doesn’t look like someone who’s good at math.” The teacher tried to smooth things over. “Chloe’s voice just sounds a bit like a little girl’s.” I said flatly, “I am a girl.” The room fell dead silent. I casually sat down, my eyes briefly sweeping over Liam in the corner. He looked arrogant and mocking, as if to say: [See? Wearing pink in a STEM class is insane.] [No one is going to accept you except me.] And it seemed like his words were a self-fulfilling prophecy. Taking my turn as the weekly morning reading leader turned me into the class joke. The walk from my desk to the podium felt like miles. Whenever I stood up there, I would hear the word “squeaker” whispered in the crowd. Some people even theorized that I was putting on this “fake” persona because I liked Liam. That I was doing it on purpose to get his attention. Liam never defended me. Instead, he insisted on bringing me a carton of strawberry milk every single day, loudly declaring: “I’m doing you a favor, proving you aren’t completely repulsive to everyone.” He watched my embarrassment with pure amusement. He was trying to play the hero in a crisis he helped create. No matter how many times I rejected him, he just assumed I was playing hard to get or throwing a cute tantrum. I shoved the tissue back into my pocket. I was so utterly sick of him sticking to me like gum on a shoe. I left the restroom but didn’t dare go back to the classroom until the bell rang. Where the teacher was, people didn’t look at me like I was an alien. I took a deep breath and opened my textbook. A folded note suddenly landed on my desk. “Class committee team-building dinner tomorrow night. Don’t be absent.” My shoulders slumped as I tried to think of an excuse to get out of it. Before I could even decline after class, the Class President, who sat behind me, specifically warned me: “Chloe, you better not ditch us.” I forced a smile. “I have a family emergency.” Her eyes darted around. “But Liam said you were free.” “Aren’t you guys neighbors?” Liam sat in the corner, his expression dark and brooding. He was radiating a miserable aura because I had stood up to him earlier. I pressed my lips together, my expression turning cold. “He doesn’t live in my house.” The President patted my shoulder. “However you need to handle it, you have to come tomorrow night! There’s a surprise!” With that, she sprinted away. I frowned, completely at a loss, and immediately texted her to reiterate my stance. [I’m not going. Don’t wait for me.] The President replied with a barrage of texts trying to persuade me. I ignored all of them. The next afternoon, the moment school ended, I headed straight for the door. I had barely taken three steps when two pairs of hands clamped down on my shoulders. I spun around, breaking into a cold sweat. The loudest girls in the class were holding me in place. They smiled, though it didn’t reach their eyes. “Don’t run off! We’re just waiting for you.” I rarely got angry, but I started struggling fiercely. “I said I’m not going!” They dragged me toward a waiting car. “Stop being so shy.” “There’s a surprise waiting for you.” The KTV room was bathed in flashing neon lights, the bass from the speakers hurting my eardrums. I turned my head away, closed my eyes, and sank into the corner of the sofa, pretending to be dead. They were playing drinking games, making a massive, rowdy scene. Suddenly, someone grabbed my hand. “Chloe, you got the Dare!” I frowned deeply. “I wasn’t even playing! How did I get chosen?!” “Liam drew for you! You guys are childhood sweethearts, right?” My chest heaved with anger. I turned to glare at Liam. He was staring right back at me, a mix of frustration and amusement in his eyes. I refused this unsolicited proxy. “He doesn’t represent me.” The room erupted in dramatic gasps. “Chloe, don’t be a buzzkill.” “Stop acting so fragile. Can’t you just be a good sport like the other girls?” The President grabbed my hand. “The dare is super easy. You just have to sing a love song duet with Liam.” “Your voice is so sweet, I bet you sound amazing when you sing.” The girls exchanged looks, giggling mockingly. Goosebumps broke out over my arms. I yanked my hand back, stood up, and tried to head for the door. The President instigated, “Liam, it looks like Chloe doesn’t want to sing with you.” The next second, a harsh, grating sound pierced the room. Liam kicked the glass coffee table hard, his voice dripping with annoyance. “Who wants to sing with this fake squeaker anyway?” “I’m afraid her voice is gonna make my ears bleed.” My hand froze on the doorknob. My eyes went wide. Laughter erupted behind me. “I told you Liam didn’t actually like her.” Liam snapped irritably, “Just get out of here.” I took a slow, deep breath. I whipped around, grabbed a glass of beer off the table, and hurled the liquid straight at his chest. My voice was shaking with rage, pitching even higher and softer than usual. “Liam, is this how you get off? By trying to humiliate me?” The room went dead silent. The only sound was the backing track playing on the TV. I spoke clearly, emphasizing every single word: “Who do you think you are to make decisions for me? To me, you’re not even a random extra in the background of my life.” He wiped the alcohol off his face, looking pathetic, his eyes burning with fury. I pushed the door open and walked out quickly. I didn’t let myself cry until I was out the front doors of the building. My tears dried in the wind, only to be replaced by fresh ones. The bitter winter wind whipped down my collar. I pulled my pink scarf tighter and walked home with my head down. Liam initiated a unilateral cold war against me. Whenever I was working on advanced Physics competition problems, he would make snide, sour comments: “A brain like yours is only built for reading poetry.” “Do you girls even understand what those equations mean?” I would simply put my pen down and pull out my English vocabulary flashcards to memorize. Seeing that I was genuinely treating him like thin air, Liam would violently kick my desk and storm off in a rage. The class held a “Peer Review” activity. I went to the restroom, and when I came back, I found my name written on the blackboard. Next to it was a title: [The Delicate Little Squeaker Wife] My eyes went bloodshot. I ran up to the board and yelled, “Who wrote this?!” My classmates covered their mouths, snickering. Liam leaned back in his chair and raised his hand. “I did.” He taunted me, “Doesn’t that title fit you perfectly? You’re fake, you squeak…” My blood ran cold. My hands turned to ice. He started counting my flaws on his fingers. “You love to cry, and you sound like you’re moaning in bed when you talk…” I charged down the aisle like an enraged bull and slapped him across the face as hard as I could. Liam cursed loudly, his tongue poking at the inside of his cheek. “Chloe, you actually hit me…” Halfway through his sentence, he met my eyes and quickly looked away. “So fragile…” He kicked his desk in frustration and stormed out of the classroom. The people around me started whispering again. “The squeaker failed to seduce Liam…” “She’s so fake. If I were him, I wouldn’t like her either.” I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. I spun around instantly and marched straight up to that group. “How do you know I like Liam?” They jumped, their eyes going wide. “Squeaker, what’s your problem?” I pointed to the security camera in the corner of the ceiling. “If what you just said is true, then I’m reporting you for stalking and spying on me.” “If it’s false, then you’re spreading malicious rumors.” The group’s faces cycled between red and pale. They stammered, “We didn’t say anything.” “It was just a joke…”

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“The ‘child-free’ decision was a mistake. Mom’s getting old; there’s no more time to wait.” “How many months?” I looked up at my husband, Eason Reed. “What?” “Your bastard child.” Eason’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “I was planning to find someone to have a baby. If you mind, once the child is a little older, I can bring them home for you to raise.” “Pfft…” I scoffed. “What a coincidence! A bastard child, our dad has one already. Why not just bring that one home?” 1. “What did you say?” Eason’s pupils constricted. “What do you mean, ‘our dad has one’?” I didn’t rush to answer. Instead, I slowly pulled a stack of photos from the drawer. Each one showed a mother and child. “This woman originally planned to cause a scene with Mom, but Mom just had heart bypass surgery last month and can’t handle stress. I stopped her.” Eason’s face turned ashen. He snatched the photos. “Nonsense! Dad, at his age, how could he be so foolish! We absolutely cannot let Mom find out about this!” I looked at him, feigning innocence. “Our dad has a child in his later years. Aren’t you happy for him? That’s your biological brother, after all. He’ll inherit the company someday too.” “Brother?” Eason’s mouth twitched. “Do you hear yourself? That’s an illegitimate child! A shameful bastard! What right does he have to be on equal footing with me?” I met his gaze, a smile in my eyes. “Honey, are you perhaps a little too nervous? Having a brother could help you share the burden. You should be happy.” “This way, we won’t have to go through all the trouble of finding a surrogate.” Eason froze abruptly. Observing his expression, I could more or less guess what had happened. When a child can’t hold it, they’ve already made a mess. When a man confesses, he’s already been to bed with someone else. So, he wasn’t asking for my opinion; he was telling me his decision. Three seconds later, he grabbed his jacket. “I’ll look into this. If it’s true, then we have a huge problem!” The door slammed shut with a heavy thud. Rapid footsteps echoed in the hallway. I slowly pulled out my phone. “Follow him. Once you have clear photos, send them to me.” Hanging up, I leaned back into the sofa, gazing out at the night sky. The decision to be child-free had been a mutual agreement eighteen years ago. Back then, he’d said children were a burden, an encumbrance. He didn’t want to be tied down for life by a ‘ball and chain.’ We were to be an ideal couple, traveling the world, seeing every mountain and river. I believed him. And I poured all my energy into the family business. Eighteen years later. I had long since lost the ability to become a mother. But men were different. They could change their minds at any time. Now, the matriarch of the family was ill and suddenly remembered the important duty of continuing the family line. And Eason, in a burst of filial piety, also felt that a life without children was incomplete. How utterly absurd. Back then, everyone criticized me, saying that having children was the lowest form of ‘poverty alleviation.’ Women shouldn’t dream of getting something for nothing by just using their womb. I thought that by holding the steering wheel of my life, I could avoid a mutual defeat. But no one ever told me. In life’s multiple-choice questions, no matter which path you take, it’s a dead end. My time was running out. I needed more help and more evidence. Otherwise, my fate would be terrible. The next second, I grabbed my car keys and headed to the hospital. Since Eason’s mother was so fond of children, how could I let her down? The woman in the bed wasn’t particularly pleased to see me. “What are you doing here? Where’s Eason?” I offered a slight smile, pulling up a chair. “Him? He seems to be meeting someone. Oh, by the way, where’s Dad?” The old woman impatiently turned her head. “He left on a business trip yesterday.” She stretched lazily. “You don’t need to come anymore. The company is at a critical stage right now. Use this time to help out more. Lin here is enough to take care of me.” Lin? I looked at the caregiver standing nearby. 2. The young woman had always worn a mask, so I hadn’t paid much attention to her appearance. Now, looking closely, she seemed a bit heavy-set. “Lin,” I addressed her. “Go get some hot water and wash my mother’s feet.” “What?” The girl froze, standing rooted to the spot, her fingers nervously twisting the hem of her clothes. “What’s wrong?” I observed her movements. “You’ve been serving my mother for a week, and you’ve never washed her feet?” “What exactly do you do during your shifts?” “I… I…” She stammered, instinctively glancing at my mother-in-law on the bed. “Oh, for heaven’s sake!” The old woman slapped the bed frame. “Whether I want my feet washed is up to me, it has nothing to do with you! There’s nothing for you here, just leave!” In that moment, I felt like I was watching a dramatic family play unfold. This Lin, she was definitely not just an ordinary caregiver. The next second, my phone vibrated. The photos had arrived. On the screen, Eason sat in a corner of a coffee shop, glaring furiously at the woman opposite him. In the woman’s arms was a child, two or three years old. I stared at the photos, a scoff escaping my lips. Both women looked at me simultaneously. “What are you laughing at?” I looked up at the old woman on the bed. “Mom, our men are not being faithful. Eason’s gone and gotten himself a bastard child.” In my peripheral vision, Lin’s shoulders gave a tiny jerk, but she quickly regained her composure. The old woman sneered. “Elara, are you mistaken? A woman in her forties who can’t even bear a child, and you expect me to fight your battles for you?” “A bastard child? That status isn’t for you to decide, it’s for me to decide. Don’t be ungrateful. If I were you, I would have signed the papers and cleared out a long time ago!” As her words fell, Lin visibly relaxed. Indeed. With such strong backing from her mother-in-law, she could practically walk all over this family. But what if… there were several women walking all over the family? A crab convention? “Pfft…” I couldn’t help it; I laughed again. “Mom, I think you’ve misunderstood. The bastard child I’m talking about isn’t Eason’s; it’s Arthur Reed’s.” “What did you say?” Both women gasped simultaneously. “But you don’t need to panic.” I handed my phone to my mother-in-law. “Eason has already gone to deal with that mother and child. I’m sure he’ll handle it cleanly.” I paused, my finger gently zooming in on the photo on the screen. “Speaking of which, that boy… he really looks like Dad.” The old woman trembled as she took the phone, her face ashen, one hand repeatedly clutching her chest. “How could this be… how could this be…” Lin frantically rushed forward, snatching the phone. “Madam, deep breaths! Please don’t get agitated. It’s not that bad yet! When Eason gets back, we can…” “Eason?” I interrupted her with a smile. “You might be mistaken. The one actually transferring assets isn’t Eason; it’s Arthur Reed.” I leaned in closer to my mother-in-law. “Mom, please take care of yourself. We’re counting on you to get back to the company and investigate this thoroughly. You absolutely cannot collapse at this point, or it will truly benefit that mother and child.” As my words fell, the old woman’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. She slumped backward. Lin was completely panicked. She frantically lunged for the call button by the bed. “Quick! Someone! Bed 601 is in distress!” I rushed forward to help support her. “Mom, don’t get so agitated. Don’t you like children? They’re all Reed family blood, no matter whose offspring they are, you should treat them equally…” “You shut your mouth!” Lin spun around furiously, swinging a hand at me. My eyes narrowed. I raised my hand, caught her wrist, and squeezed hard. “What do you think you are? A caregiver, daring to lay a hand on me?” The next second, I shoved her. She stumbled backward, crashing straight into the nearby medical cabinet. But as she fell, her hands desperately shielded her abdomen. “Help! My baby!” A piercing scream cut through the entire hospital room. I gasped. A baby? 3. Just then, the doctor, along with several nurses, rushed in. And the old woman on the bed had already rolled her eyes back, convulsing. “Patient is in cardiac arrest! Quick, prepare the defibrillator! Epinephrine stat!” The hospital room instantly erupted into chaos. My gaze coldly swept past the busy medical staff, landing on the woman on the floor. There was a baby in her belly. I closed my eyes, taking a deep, slow breath. One against four. I seemed to already see my own ending. This was a war I couldn’t possibly win. Eason would soon discover that the woman wasn’t Arthur Reed’s mistress. He would also realize that all of this was just a trap I had set. And then? He would be furious, he would retaliate, and he would throw me out. And this woman, clutching her abdomen, would move into my home with her illegitimate child, rightfully so. I opened my eyes, looking at the deep night outside the window. But to suffer in silence has never been my style. I was alone, with no attachments. No children to raise, no parents to look after, and no weakness for anyone to exploit. So, I wasn’t afraid. The next second, I pulled out my phone and dialed Eason. “Honey, Mom’s in the ICU.” “That caregiver fell, and she’s actually pregnant! Now she’s extorting us, saying it happened on our watch and we’re responsible!” Twenty minutes later, Eason rushed breathlessly into the hospital building. He only saw me sitting alone on a bench outside the ICU, hands clasped, praying devoutly. “Elara!” He hurried over, looking around. “Vivian… I mean… where’s Lin?” I looked up, my eyes slightly red. “This woman is a liar! She’s five months pregnant! She didn’t say anything when we hired her as a caregiver, and now she’s screaming after falling. Isn’t this just a scam?” Eason’s face changed. “Then… then where is she? Where did she go?” “Why are you panicking?” I looked up at him, a hint of inquiry in my eyes. “Regardless of whether the child lives or dies, I’ll bear all responsibility. I won’t let the Reed family get involved.” Eason didn’t reply. He grabbed a passing nurse. “Where’s Lin? The girl who was with my mom?” The nurse glanced at me. “Ms. Vance arranged for her transfer. This is a cardiovascular hospital; we don’t have an obstetrics department. She needs to go to a maternity hospital for prenatal care.” Eason’s face was ashen. He pulled out his phone and made a call. Soon, the call connected. “Where are you?” Lin’s tearful voice came from the other end. “Eason, it was Elara! Elara pushed me! The baby’s fine, but I need to be on bed rest… I was so scared, I almost didn’t protect your baby… Mom getting into the ICU was also because Elara provoked her. She knows everything!” Eason hung up the phone and slowly turned to face me. His eyes had changed. “Elara, you shouldn’t have done this.” He took a step closer, his voice resolute. “I originally thought that once the child was born, I would let you raise them. After all, you can’t have children, and I can’t let the Reed family line end.” He paused, shaking his head. “But now I see, you’re simply not fit to be a mother. So, I don’t want to deceive myself anymore.” With that, he pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. It was a printed divorce agreement. “Sign it.” I took the agreement and scanned it. The asset division section read: Marital assets split 50/50. I smiled. From my bag, I pulled out another agreement. “Sign this one.” It stated that due to the husband having an improper relationship with another person and causing pregnancy during the marriage, he was the primary at-fault party, and 70% of the joint marital assets would belong to the wife. “70%?” Eason laughed as if he’d heard a joke. “Elara, you’re dreaming!” “Winning a lawsuit isn’t about empty words; it’s about evidence. And you have none.” With that, he turned and strode away. I sat there, watching his back disappear down the hallway. It was true, I had no evidence. I had no right to demand a paternity test between someone else’s child and my husband. Even if I knew that child was his, even if the whole world knew that child was his. As long as he denied it, the court would be powerless. I slowly gathered the two agreements, stuffing them back into my bag. But one thing he said was wrong. Evidence would come soon enough. The next second, my phone rang. “He went to the maternity hospital.” “Good.”

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At my best friend’s wedding, I was lucky enough to catch the bouquet. Everyone looked on expectantly at me and Henry, my boyfriend of eight years. My friend, Maya, beamed, playfully teasing, “Congratulations! So, when’s the big day for you two?” I replied, “Next month.” To my surprise, Henry’s face instantly darkened. Right there, in front of everyone, he snapped at me, “Are you that desperate to get married? The more you push, the less I want to marry you.” He didn’t know the man I planned to marry wasn’t him. 1 The atmosphere at the wedding turned awkward because of Henry’s words. Maya, my best friend, looked ready to lash out on my behalf, but I stopped her. “Don’t let it get to you. Today’s your wedding, it’s not worth getting upset over.” Her husband, Michael, quickly stepped in, calming her simmering anger. Once she was settled, I pulled Henry aside. I didn’t want our drama to overshadow Maya’s special day. Henry was still fuming. “You can relax,” I explained, “what I said earlier was just polite conversation, not serious.” His expression softened slightly, but he still couldn’t resist a barbed comment. “I think you should learn from Elara Vance. Stop being so obsessed with romance.” Elara Vance was a brilliant, newly hired graduate from overseas at his company. This wasn’t the first time Henry had brought her up to me. Initially, when he talked about Elara, it was usually to complain about her strong personality, calling her aloof. But gradually, his comments had shifted to praise. He’d often say, “Elara is like a modern-day Joan of Arc, even more capable than most men.” A knot tightened in my stomach. I remembered replying to him then, “How capable?” He’d rolled his eyes at me. “More capable than a housewife like you, anyway.” My body stiffened. He knew perfectly well that the only reason I stayed home was because of my health. I had a congenital heart condition. In my younger years, this condition often led to emergencies. The most serious time, I almost died. Out of fear for my safety, Henry stopped me from working. I remembered him holding me tenderly then, promising he’d take care of me, telling me to rest at home and wait for him. I loved him, and I trusted him. But I never imagined that eight years into our relationship, his promise to “take care of me” would become a knife he’d twist into my heart. At that moment, a soft melody began to play at the wedding. In the romantic atmosphere, I felt a sudden daze wash over me. Henry hadn’t realized how hurtful his words were. Or perhaps he had, but he didn’t care. He even seemed proud of himself for leaving me speechless. He looked satisfied to see me discomfited. Just then, his phone rang. Elara’s calm, confident voice came from the other end. “Don’t stay up late tonight. You have a business trip tomorrow.” “Understood,” Henry replied, his tone gentle. Elara chuckled softly. “Want some unagi bowl? I can bring it over.” “Sure, thanks, Chef Elara.” Henry’s eyes crinkled with a smile, his joy undeniable. “Hmph, stop being such a tease,” Elara playfully chided. After hanging up, Henry’s smile lingered, the earlier coldness from our argument completely gone. Their familiarity was so evident; I felt utterly shut out of their world. At that moment, Maya, arm in arm with her husband, approached us. She continued to jab at Henry. “Henry, you better not do anything to hurt Serena, or I swear, I’ll never forgive you.” Henry first glanced at me, then let out an annoyed scoff. “My relationship with her is none of anyone else’s business.” Maya’s temper flared again. Michael and I quickly intervened, calming her down. With our persuasion, she reluctantly allowed Michael to lead her away. In the corner of the grand hall, only Henry and I remained. Henry grumbled, “You should spend less time with her. She’s a total shrew.” I turned to him, enunciating each word carefully. “A shrew? In your eyes, who isn’t a shrew? Even Elara Vance, whom you admire so much now, you used to call her a shrew.” Henry choked on his words. He wanted to argue, but I didn’t give him a chance, simply walking away. As the wedding neared its end, Maya pulled me aside, her face red from crying. She said we had planned to have our weddings together, but she didn’t expect me to break that promise. I smiled, gently patting her shoulder. I told her, “It’s okay. Seeing you happy today makes me happy.” But Maya insisted, “No, I know you. You’re not happy at all today. You should break up with him.” 2 No sooner had she spoken than Henry appeared. He looked at us suspiciously. “Break up what?” Maya shot him a glare and turned her head away. But he was persistent, a hint of anxiety even in his voice. “Serena, tell me.” “Can’t you tell? My best friend can’t bear to part with me.” The lie rolled off my tongue effortlessly. He saw no change in my expression and secretly breathed a sigh of relief. In an instant, he reverted to his usual haughty self. “It’s getting late. We need to go home.” I nodded. After saying goodbye to Maya, I got into Henry’s car. We didn’t exchange a single word the entire way. He seemed a little surprised by my silence, yet satisfied that I was finally “behaving” and not bothering him. When we got home, Henry even remembered to praise me. “You should always be this quiet, instead of rambling on the moment you get in the car.” But his praise quickly turned into a lecture. “If you had something of your own to do, you wouldn’t always be clinging to me.” He sighed. “You never go out and socialize; you’re completely out of touch with society. You even graduated from a prestigious university. You’re truly wasting your potential.” I clutched the hem of my dress. I knew. Even without Henry telling me these things, I knew. I was more anxious than he was. Just then, I received a message from Maya. “I have good news for you. We’ve found a matching heart donor.” The good news hit me like a revelation, snapping me awake. Henry, mistaking my reaction for being affected by his words, felt a pang of regret. But he continued nonetheless. “I can’t always support you, Serena. If one day we break up, what will you do?” I was no longer listening to him. I rushed into the bedroom, continuing my conversation with Maya about the heart donor. Henry remained in the living room, still lecturing. “I’m not saying I’ll abandon you. I just hope you can have something of your own, Serena. I want you to be more independent.” I didn’t respond. Seeing my silence, he sighed, then turned and went into the bathroom to shower. That afternoon, Henry suddenly called me. “Serena, I left a file at home. Can you bring it to the office for me?” I was about to ask him where the file was when he abruptly hung up. I sighed and started searching the house. I finally found the file in his study. Just as I was about to grab the file and leave, I accidentally bumped into a hanging bag. The bag fell to the floor, scattering its contents, revealing a necklace gift box. I opened the box. It was empty. I suddenly remembered something and quickly checked my social media. Finally, I saw the necklace in a post by Elara Vance. It was accompanied by a picture: a man’s large hand helping her put on the necklace. I hadn’t paid much attention to the post before, so I hadn’t noticed the subtle details. Now, looking closely, I saw a mole on the inside of the man’s index finger. Henry had a mole in the same spot on his hand. At that point, what more was there to understand? The necklace was a Givenchy, worth over two hundred thousand dollars. How could a man as frugal as he was usually, afford such an expensive gift? I let out a bitter laugh. 3 I remembered my birthday last year. Not only did he forget, but afterward, he only made it up to me with a scarf worth a hundred dollars. It wasn’t that I disliked the scarf for being too cheap, but that my neck became incredibly itchy when I wore it. He had laughed at me then, “Where did you get all this princess syndrome? You’re probably just upset the gift is too cheap, aren’t you? Don’t try to be like those gold diggers online, Serena. We need to be grounded.” I shook my head with a bitter smile. Thankfully, I no longer had any expectations of him. I put everything back in its place, then hurried to deliver the file to him. As soon as I arrived at the company, I was stopped by the receptionist. I explained that I was Henry’s girlfriend and was there to deliver a file. The receptionist seemed to soften slightly, but then Elara Vance appeared. Elara didn’t even glance at me. She looked straight ahead, instructing the receptionist, “Get rid of her quickly.” I stared at her in surprise. She clearly knew me; we had met before. I thought a woman like her would be above playing such petty games. The receptionist gave me an apologetic look and was about to ask me to leave. Seeing Elara walk away without a backward glance, I called out, “Ms. Vance, we know each other, don’t we?” Meeting the receptionist’s astonished gaze, Elara’s expression remained unchanged. She scrutinized me from head to toe, her eyes heavy with disdain. “So what? Are you so idle that you come here to cause a scene? Henry told me you were a high-achieving student?” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. My temper flared, and I was about to say something when Henry suddenly appeared, stopping me. Henry first looked at Elara, asking her with concern, “What’s wrong? She didn’t do anything to you, did she?” I looked up, surprised. In Henry’s eyes, was I really that kind of person? Despite having long understood his true nature, a chill still ran down my spine at that moment. Thankfully, my time with him was also coming to an end. My wedding was scheduled for next month, and the groom wasn’t him. The man I was about to marry was someone I met through an arranged meeting; I didn’t have strong feelings for him. For me, marriage was just a task. I was in my early thirties; I needed a marriage to deflect societal scrutiny. Most importantly, I needed a definitive reason to finally end things with Henry. We had been together for eight years; he was my first love. To completely excise him from my life would be like tearing off my own skin. Fortunately, I had long passed the stage of holding romanticized notions of love. Watching the two of them being intimately close, oblivious to my presence, I maintained a calm expression and placed the file on the reception desk. “The file is here.” I casually informed him and then left. He didn’t even glance at me until I had walked out of the company building. He was still talking to Elara about something. That evening, he returned. I was sitting on the sofa, casually looking at my phone. Henry seemed surprised that I hadn’t made dinner tonight. But he didn’t say much, turning instead to shower. After his shower, he saw me still on the sofa with my phone, his expression unreadable. “Why haven’t you cooked anything? I’ve had a long day. Can’t you be more thoughtful?” I didn’t even look up. “What? Your Ms. Vance didn’t keep you for dinner?” I had seen Elara’s social media post tonight. Henry had dropped her home. But Henry had told me he was working late. Caught in his lie, he grew annoyed. “I knew you’d overthink things, that’s why I kept it from you.” He sighed. “Look at you today, causing a scene at my company?” I looked at him as if he were an idiot. “Didn’t you ask me to deliver the file?” He coughed uncomfortably. Perhaps he realized he was in the wrong, but he still stubbornly insisted, “You should have just delivered the file to the reception. You argued with Elara just because you disliked her and made an issue out of nothing.” He continued, “She’s not like you. She’s not just any girl; she has ideals and ambitions. She’s above playing mind games and schemes or getting jealous all the time.” He concluded, “I’ve already apologized for you. Next time you see her, be polite.” I felt like I didn’t even know him anymore.

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