Category: English

Alaric married me because my rare blood type could save his beloved. Every time Maeve Kincaid was in critical condition, he’d gently coax me to donate blood, calling it “a friend’s wife’s duty.” Until I found his diary: “Every time she gives blood, she’s as pale as paper. It almost makes my heart stir. Pity, she’s just a walking blood bank.” The day Maeve was discharged, Alaric placed a diamond necklace he’d long bought around my neck: “Maeve needs a bone marrow transplant. Your match is the highest. After this, we’ll truly start our life together.” He’d already signed the consent form for me. I touched my abdomen, smiling and nodding, quietly deleting the prenatal scan report I’d just received on my phone. The doctor had said if a pregnant woman with my blood type donated a large amount of marrow during pregnancy, the fetus would almost certainly not survive. Perfect, Alaric. Your child, like the woman who loved you, was never meant to exist. 1 Alaric married me because my RH-negative blood could save his beloved. Everyone in our social circle knew it, but I, in my naivety, once believed it was love. Until I stumbled upon his diary, hidden in the flyleaf of his copy of Love in the Time of Cholera—a book he never let me touch, and sometimes stared at, lost in thought, a peculiar habit I attributed to his literary leanings. That day, he rushed out, forgetting to lock his desk drawer. Impulsively, I pulled it open. My heart hammered as my fingers brushed against the familiar hardback. I opened it; the flyleaf was smooth. With a fingernail, I gently pried open the almost invisible seam, and a folded, high-quality piece of paper slipped out. On it was Alaric’s forceful handwriting, pressing through the page: “March 15th, Overcast. Donated another 400cc. She didn’t make a sound, her lips so pale they were almost invisible. Lying there, she looked as fragile as a priceless porcelain vase in a museum. My fingertips brushed hers when I handed her the warm tea; they were ice-cold. For a moment, my heart actually clenched. Absurd. Lucy… she’s just a walking blood bank, nothing more. Maeve needs her, and I only need her blood. Get a grip, Alaric.” “May 20th, Rain. She actually baked a cake. How foolish. RH-negative blood, what a perfect coincidence. Or rather, Maeve’s luck, my luck. Looking at her eager eyes, I suddenly felt annoyed. This ‘luck’ must be held firmly. Perhaps, should I consider marriage to lock it down? More legitimate, and safer. Anyway, she seems to love me very much. Love, isn’t it the best kind of chains?” “July 7th, Sunny. Maeve’s condition is stable. Lucy seemed particularly tired today, fallen asleep on the sofa. Sunlight on her face, fine downy hairs, faint blue veins visible beneath her pale skin. Suddenly recalled the first time she fainted in my arms after a donation, light as a feather. That fleeting flicker of my heart still lingers. What a ridiculous and pathetic emotion. She’s just a blood bag, a vital ingredient, a living reserve to ensure Maeve’s safety. Alaric, don’t forget what you truly want.” The last line, the ink still fresh, pressed through the page with a barely perceptible, self-loathing satisfaction: “Every time she gives blood, she’s as pale as paper. It almost makes my heart stir. Pity, she’s just a walking blood bank.” The edges of the paper were slightly frayed, as if frequently touched. I clutched that slip of paper, standing in the empty study in the early summer afternoon, yet I shivered, bone-chillingly cold. The bright sunlight streaming through the window stung my eyes, but not a single ray of warmth penetrated my bones. So, every time he coaxed me onto the donation chair, gently saying, “Lucy, please, honey, it’s a friend’s wife’s duty,” his mind was filled with such frigid, cutting thoughts. A friend’s wife? Ha. What kind of wife was I? I was just a walking, renewable resource, a human blood bag with the label “Mrs. Thorne” stuck on me. My nails dug deeply into my palms, the pain providing the last shred of strength to remain standing. I couldn’t collapse. At least, not here. I meticulously refolded the paper along its original creases, returned it to the flyleaf, pushed the book back into the drawer, and closed it. Every action was terrifyingly steady. Back in the bedroom, I locked the door and slowly slid to the floor, my back against the cold wood. The thick carpet absorbed all sound. I raised my hand, looking at my slender wrist, the veins unusually distinct due to recent frequent blood donations. The faint pressure of the rubber tourniquet seemed to linger there. Pale as paper? Yes, how could I not be, with so much blood loss? And he found it almost “stirring”? How cheap, how cruel, that flicker of emotion. Like a butcher occasionally admiring the docile fur of a lamb about to be slaughtered. The desolate wasteland in my heart, once ablaze with fervent love for him, was now thoroughly frozen by this sudden blizzard, utterly silent. Not even ashes remained. Good. Alaric, thank you for giving me clarity, in the most brutal way. 2 From then on, the way I looked at Alaric completely changed. Before, my gaze was filtered through admiration and a timid desire to please. Now, that filter had shattered, revealing the naked, sophisticated core of his self-interest beneath. He still played the role of the attentive husband. Occasionally, when he came home early, he’d bring a bouquet of flamboyant red roses, never quite to my taste. After social events, he’d lean against my shoulder, smelling of liquor, mumbling vague, almost promises. “Lucy, darling, once Maeve’s condition stabilizes, we’ll go on that belated honeymoon. Haven’t you always wanted to see the Northern Lights in Iceland?” “I know it’s been hard on you lately, I appreciate everything.” “You’re my wife, my closest confidante.” Before, hearing these words would fill me with a subtle sweetness, even if tinged with a slight, uncertain sourness. Now, I only found them deeply ironic. When he looked at me, did those deep, handsome eyes reflect Lucy Thorne, or merely the symbol of an RH-negative blood type? I started to indulge him, becoming even more pliant and silent than before. When he needed blood, I never hesitated, only softly asking each time, “How much this time? I seem to be getting dizzy more easily lately.” He would gently stroke my hair. “Not much, just the usual amount. Afterwards, I’ll have the kitchen make you some nourishing broth, and I’ll personally oversee it.” Personally oversee it? Was he overseeing the broth, or overseeing the recovery of his “blood bag,” ensuring its sustainable use? I lowered my eyes, nodding obediently. But deep inside, a cold spark began to glow quietly in a corner no one could see. I needed time. I needed to plan. Until then, I couldn’t tip my hand. 3 The day Maeve Kincaid was discharged from the hospital was a grand affair. Alaric booked an entire VIP floor at the city’s most expensive private hospital. Flowers were laid out from the elevator to her room. Dressed impeccably in a suit, he personally carried an extravagant bouquet of 999 champagne roses, greeting his “dear friend,” Maeve, who looked delicate and pitiful in her custom hospital gown. As “Mrs. Thorne,” I was naturally present. Dressed in a slightly oversized, old-fashioned suit Alaric had sent, I felt like an awkward accessory. Maeve leaned back in her wheelchair, carefully pushed out by Alaric. She looked up, a weak, victorious smile blooming on her pale face. “Lucy, thank you again.” Her voice was barely a whisper, yet her eyes, like poisoned needles, pricked at me. “Alaric told me everything. This time, it’s all thanks to you. You truly are… a blessing to our family.” Our family. The phrase sickened me, but I managed to conjure a perfectly timed, slightly shy and worried smile. “Please don’t say that, Maeve. Your recovery is what matters most. Alaric, he… he was so worried about you.” Alaric, who was bending down to meticulously adjust the thin blanket on Maeve’s lap, paused at my words, glancing at me. His expression was complex, as if he hadn’t expected me to be so “gracious and composed.” He quickly turned back to Maeve, whispering in a voice I’d never heard from him before, “It’s windy outside. Keep covered. The car’s waiting downstairs.” Watching their backs, I slowly walked behind them, my nails once again digging into my flesh. A blessing to their family? No, I was merely a sacrificial offering, to be used whenever convenient. 4 That evening, Alaric returned earlier than usual. He carried a scent of hospital disinfectant mixed with Maeve’s usual perfume, a nauseating combination. But his expression was relaxed, even showing a rare, genuine contentment. In his hand was a deep blue velvet jewelry box. “Lucy, come here.” He sat on the living room sofa, beckoning me over. I put down the magazine I was pretending to read and walked to him. He pulled me down beside him and opened the box. Inside was a diamond necklace, the main diamond sizable, reflecting cold, brilliant light under the lamps. “Do you like it?” He took out the necklace, reached behind my neck. The cold touch of the metal made me shiver slightly. The clasp clicked shut. The diamond hung heavy below my collarbone, like an ornate shackle. “Maeve’s discharge this time is largely thanks to you. This is a thank-you, and also…” He paused, his finger tracing the edge of the diamond, brushing my skin almost imperceptibly, “…a small, insignificant compensation for what you’re about to do.” Here it comes. I looked up, through the fragmented, swirling light refracted by the living room’s crystal chandelier, maintaining my usual docile dependence, even a touch of well-placed bewilderment. “About to do? Isn’t Maeve well now?” Alaric gazed into my eyes, those always profound and unreadable eyes now clearly reflecting my image—pale, docile, easily controlled. He sighed, taking my hand. His palm was warm, yet it sent a chill through my heart. “Maeve’s condition has changed. Acute myeloid leukemia. She needs a bone marrow transplant as soon as possible.” His voice was steady, even gentle, as if discussing tomorrow’s weather. “You know, bone marrow matching is difficult. But…” He squeezed my hand slightly, as if conveying resolve, or perhaps exerting an invisible pressure. “Your matching results are in. Highly compatible. A perfect 10 out of 10. The doctor said it’s practically a miracle.” A miracle? I looked at him, suddenly wanting to laugh. Yes, RH-negative blood, a perfect bone marrow match. For them, my existence meant creating these “miracles” again and again, didn’t it? “So?” I whispered, my voice distant, as if from far away. “So, we need you to be the donor.” Alaric’s tone became firmer, carrying an undeniable decisiveness. “This is Maeve’s only, and best, chance for survival. I’ve already signed the consent form for you. The surgery is scheduled for next Wednesday. Lucy, I know this is sudden, and there might be some risks, but Maeve can’t wait. Don’t worry, it’s the best hospital, the best team. I’ll get the top experts to ensure your safety.” He reached out, seemingly wanting to pull me into his arms, his gesture tinged with a patronizing comfort. “After this, we’ll truly live our lives together. I promise you, I’ll never let you suffer like this again. We’ll go to Iceland, see the Northern Lights, just the two of us, okay?” Iceland, the Northern Lights. He had used those words as pain relief once before, when I fainted after my first blood donation. Now, he brought them out again, as bait, and as an anesthetic. I lowered my gaze, my eyes falling on my still-flat lower abdomen. A life was quietly forming there. A life that had arrived unexpectedly on a night when I was utterly heartbroken and foolishly drunk, right before my heart completely died. This afternoon, I had just received my prenatal checkup report. Six weeks pregnant. My high school friend, Dr. Lin, had privately warned me in a grave tone: “Lucy, you have RH-negative blood, which means you need extra care during pregnancy. If you undergo a major invasive procedure like bone marrow donation at this time, especially if a large amount is collected, the fetus will almost certainly not survive. Plus, it will be extremely damaging to your own body. You’ve already had frequent blood donations, and your anemic state hasn’t fully recovered. You must consider this carefully. No, my advice is, absolutely do not do it!” Consider it carefully? Did I have a choice? The consent form, he had already signed it for me. The words “signed for me” burned like a hot iron on my soul. I looked at Alaric’s face, so close, filled with certainty and a trace of barely concealed urgency. He probably thought I would, as countless times before, lie on the operating table obediently, even with a joyful sense of sacrifice. After all, I loved him so “deeply,” deeply enough to disregard everything else. So deeply that he never imagined I, this “walking blood bank,” would ever resist, would have secrets, would… hate. The ice field in my heart cracked open with a deep fissure, and a dark, hateful flame silently began to rise. I raised my hand, my fingertips gently brushing the diamond at my neck. Cold, hard, and ostentatious. Just like the “future” he promised. Then, my hand dropped, resting on my lower abdomen, very gently, pressing it. It was still calm there, I felt nothing. But I knew a tiny life was growing. Alaric’s child. And my child. A child he would never anticipate, and perhaps, if he knew, would personally crush. Because the existence of this child would hinder his beloved from receiving my bone marrow. Perfect. Alaric. I spoke to him in my heart, word by word, silently. Your child, like the woman who loved you, was never meant to exist. But whether it exists, and how it ends, will be decided by me. Not you. I lifted my face, meeting his expectant gaze, and slowly curved my lips into a smile, as soft and even timid as always. I nodded gently. “Okay.” My voice was obedient, without a ripple of emotion. “For Maeve, and for you, I’ll donate.” Alaric visibly relaxed, the last trace of uncertainty vanishing from his eyes, replaced by a glow of successful planning, mixed with satisfaction and a hint of complex emotions. He tried to embrace me again; this time, I didn’t resist. I let his embrace, smelling of perfume and disinfectant, envelop me. My chin rested on his shoulder. My eyes open, I watched the potted plant in the corner of the living room, its leaves trembling slightly in the air conditioning’s gentle breeze. In my eyes, an icy, dead desert. My phone vibrated silently in my pocket, the screen lighting up, then dimming. The message that read “Six weeks pregnant, preliminary normal embryonic development, recommended regular monitoring,” along with the attached digital report, had been completely deleted. Along with my last, ridiculous hope for him. 5 In the days that followed, Alaric’s treatment of me was abnormally “good.” Supplements flowed into the house, and he even canceled an important meeting to personally accompany me to the hospital for pre-op checks. Of course, these were the mandatory medical exams for a donor. Blood tests, labs, EKGs, chest X-rays… he was with me for every step, full of patience, holding my hand, emphasizing to every doctor and nurse: “This is my wife. Please be meticulous, use the best techniques, and ensure her safety.” The medical staff cast envious glances. “Mr. Thorne is so good to you, so considerate.” “Mrs. Thorne, you’re very lucky.” I kept my head down, smiling shyly, leaning closer to him, appearing dependent and devoted. Only I knew that every gentle word he spoke, every thoughtful gesture he made, was like a blunt knife, grinding back and forth on my already numb heart. It didn’t hurt, but that cold, sticky feeling of disgust shadowed my every move. He did all this simply to ensure the “donor” was in good condition, capable of smoothly producing the “bone marrow,” the “commodity” that would save his beloved. During a break in the exams, I slipped away to the OB-GYN department, feigning a consultation for anemia. My friend, Dr. Lin, seized the moment while Alaric was on the phone. She pulled me into her office, locked the door, her face grimmer than I had ever seen it. “Lucy, are you insane? Are you really going through with the donation? Do you have any idea what this means?!” she hissed, almost shouting, her voice low. “This isn’t just a few hundred CCs of blood! Bone marrow harvesting! It’s a massive burden on your body right now! The baby almost certainly won’t survive! You could hemorrhage, get an infection, face all sorts of unpredictable risks! Do you ever want to be a mother?!” I looked at Dr. Lin’s flushed face, red with urgency. A tiny crack appeared in the cold, hard shell around my heart, and a faint warmth seeped out. In this world, there was still someone who genuinely cared about Lucy Thorne, the person, not just her blood or her bone marrow. I squeezed her hand, her palm slightly damp with agitation. “Lin, I know.” My voice was surprisingly calm, even to myself. “I know it all.” “You know, and you still—” Dr. Lin’s eyes widened. “I have my own plans.” I cut her off, my voice soft, yet with an undeniable, resolute finality. “I’m not keeping this child. But how it ‘won’t be kept’ is my decision. That consent form Alaric signed, could you check it for me? Are there any… loopholes?” Dr. Lin was stunned, looking at me as if I were a stranger. The Lucy she knew, always docile, a little melancholic, constantly revolving around Alaric, seemed to be peeling away before her eyes, revealing a cold, hard, unfamiliar core beneath. “What… what do you want to do?” Her voice trembled slightly. “Help me.” I gripped her hand tightly, my fingertips cold. “Lin, right now, only you can help me. It’s not about harming anyone, just… self-preservation. And taking back something.” I looked at her, my eyes devoid of pleading, only a deep, bottomless chill, and beneath it, a quietly burning flame. Dr. Lin looked at me for a long time. Finally, slowly, she squeezed my hand back, very tightly. “What do you need me to do?” Her voice was even lower, laced with a sense of desperate determination.

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When I was eight, our family was slaughtered by a rival syndicate. My parents died, and our family’s heirloom—an antique bone-carved bracelet—was lost. To save my brothers, I was brutally tortured by those monsters until I went blind. I also contracted a strange blood disease. Every ten days, I needed a blood transfusion just to stay alive. From then on, I became their absolute taboo, their untouchable treasure. Terrified of losing me, they locked me away in a secluded private estate, forbidding anyone from coming near me. Anyone who dared to look at me a second too long had their entire bloodline erased. They lived on the edge of a knife for years, eventually becoming the most feared, ruthless reapers of New York’s underworld. Only then did they finally track down our stolen heirloom. But because my blood type was incredibly rare, my brothers specifically sponsored a girl from a poverty-stricken background who shared my exact blood type. She was to be my walking blood bank. On the day they brought this sponsored girl, Chloe Snow, back to the estate, my eyesight happened to finally be restored. I wanted to give my brothers a surprise, but Chloe slapped me hard, knocking me to the ground. “Where did a gold-digging slut like you come from? You actually dared to scale the wall to get in?” “I am the only woman the Vance brothers have ever brought home! You dare compete with me for their favor? I’ll beat you to death!” She gouged out my eyes and crushed my hands. She took the bone-carved bracelet my brothers had spent over a decade searching for and ground it into powder. Finally, she stuffed me into a giant gift box. She presented me to my three brothers: “Boys, I saw that old bone bracelet was getting worn out, so I specially made you a new one out of unique materials as a greeting gift.” …… After my 99th surgery, I could finally see the light again. But the house was empty. My brothers were currently in Eastern Europe, training a private army of mercenaries exclusively to protect me. I returned to the standalone mansion they had custom-built for me. I took out the recovered family heirloom, the bone-carved bracelet, and carefully wiped and polished it. I figured once I finished, I would head over to another property to see a very special “new friend.” But right then, the sponsored ward, Chloe Snow, barged in with a group of lackeys. Her face was full of hostility. I was startled and quickly stood up. “This is my private residence. You can’t be in here. Hurry up and leave before my brothers get back, or it will be too late.” I knew better than anyone how obsessively my brothers treasured me. Their protectiveness had long reached a pathological level. Terrified that I would be tainted by the filth of the outside world, they practically locked me in this mansion. Once, a man secretly climbed the wall just to catch a glimpse of me. He was subsequently drained of his blood, hollowed out, and turned into a taxidermy specimen that still sits in their basement today. But Chloe didn’t listen. Instead, she raised her hand and slapped me viciously across the face. “I am the only woman the Vance brothers personally brought back! Where can’t I go?” “I knew this mansion was too secluded! I figured some sly fox might sneak in to try and climb into their beds, and here you are!” My cheek burned like fire. I frantically tried to explain. “You’re misunderstanding. I…” Before I could finish, her eyes locked onto the bone-carved bracelet in my hand. Her expression instantly turned murderous. “Where did you steal that bracelet?!” “That’s their family heirloom! Their absolute lifeline! I’ve only ever seen it on the news! What dirty tricks did you use to get your hands on it?!” The lackeys behind her immediately erupted in shock. “Wait, is that the legendary Vance family heirloom that’s never shown to the public?” “I heard a billionaire offered an astronomical sum just to look at it, and they gouged his eyes out!” “Even you, Chloe, only saw a silhouette of it in the old news archives… and she’s actually wearing it on her wrist?! How ridiculously spoiled must she be?” That last comment completely enraged Chloe. “Bullshit! How could she be?! This is definitely a fake! She bought some cheap knockoff from a flea market to put on airs and sneak into the Vance family!” Saying that, she lunged at me to snatch the bracelet. I shoved her away with all my might, clutching the bracelet tightly in my palm. “This is the real heirloom! You can’t touch it!” She sneered and signaled to her followers. “Grab it!” Several people swarmed me instantly, yanking and tearing at me from all sides. “It’s real!” I cried out, struggling desperately. “My brothers spent over a decade looking for it! It’s all we have left of our parents! They literally amputated the limbs off the men who stole it and kept them alive in jars!” My cries only earned a colder, more mocking laugh from her. “Out of tens of millions of scholarship applications, they chose me. Do you know what that means? It means I am special to them!” “They saw my photo, saw my background, and their hearts ached for me! They fell in love with me!” “I want to see what happens today when I catch a cheap slut trying to climb into their beds and confiscate her little fake trinket! We’ll see if they thank me or blame me!” With that, she snatched the bracelet from my grip, raised her foot, and stomped down hard. But her foot slipped slightly, and only the edge of the bracelet cracked. Thankfully, the restoration technique for this artifact was a family secret passed down to the daughters. I was the only one in the world who knew how to fix it. I used every ounce of my strength to break free, clutched the damaged bracelet in my hand, and desperately hid my arms under my body. Chloe narrowed her eyes. “Drag her arms out! Stomp them into a bloody pulp along with her hands!” At her command, countless hands began tearing at my arms. I thrashed like a madwoman, but it was useless. My fingers were pried open one by one. She raised her foot, aimed her sharp stiletto heel right at my finger joints, and stomped down with brutal force. The sickening crunch of shattering bone echoed in the room. That hand was essentially reduced to a mangled mess of flesh and bone. I let out a blood-curdling scream. She then took a heavy hammer and smashed the bone-carved bracelet. Shards of bone flew into the air; dust scattered across the floor. The last memory of my parents was utterly obliterated beneath her feet. I used my last breath to scream hoarsely. “I am their biological sister! Aria Vance! If you dare hurt me, my brothers will never let you live!” The words “biological sister” made Chloe pause. She stared at my face, examining it closely. For a split second, I thought she could finally see the resemblance between my features and my brothers’. But the next second, she grabbed me by the hair, pulling so hard she almost ripped my scalp off. “Biological sister?” “Everyone in New York knows the Vance family’s precious treasure is a blind girl! She was sent away to hide in Europe ages ago! What kind of sister are you supposed to be?!” She grinned, revealing a sickeningly malicious smile. “But you know, I’m a soft-hearted person. Since you want to be his sister so badly, I’ll reluctantly do you a favor.” “His sister is blind, right? Then you can be blind too.” I tried to scramble away in absolute terror, but several pairs of hands pinned me dead to the floor. The cold glint of a dagger flashed. The next second, it plunged into my eye socket. An explosive, blinding pain erupted in my skull. I shrieked in agony as the blood pouring out blinded my remaining left eye, turning my entire vision into a sea of crimson. Watching helplessly as my own eyeball rolled onto the floor, my hatred skyrocketed to its absolute peak. These eyes… they had just been healed. To fix them, my brothers had sought out the greatest doctors in the world, tried every experimental treatment, and never once gave up. I had wanted to surprise them. But now, they were ruined. Clutching my blood-soaked right eye, I glared at her with a death stare. “You gouged out my eye… My brothers will never sponsor you again!” Chloe’s face instantly darkened. She casually picked up a jagged, sharp rock from the garden floor and violently shoved it into my empty eye socket. “Fine, I’ll just ‘put it back’ for you.” The rough stone ground against my raw flesh. I convulsed from the unbearable agony. She just stood over me, looking down like a god, smiling with sheer delight. “You think just because you’re young and have a fresh body, you can seduce anyone?” “I want to see if you can still be so seductive in bed after today.” She ordered her bodyguards to stuff me into the trunk of a car and drove me all the way to a homeless encampment on the outskirts of the city. The area was packed with filthy, unwashed vagrants in tattered clothes. I instantly understood what she was planning to do. “No… no,” I shook my head frantically, my voice trembling. “Please… I’m pregnant… you can’t do this…” Chloe paused, her eyes turning terrifyingly sharp. “You’re pregnant with a Vance’s child?!” “No! Not my brothers’!” I denied it quickly, grasping at my final straw. “It’s Damon’s! Damon Cross!” Chloe froze for a second. “Damon? The youngest kingpin of the underground syndicate, Damon Cross?” I nodded desperately, tears mixing with the blood streaming down my face. “Yes… it’s his…” But she let out a derisive snort, her eyes full of mockery. “How could a piece of trash like you possibly know Damon Cross?” “Besides, everyone in the underworld knows Damon was born sterile. And the Vance family’s little sister had a panic disorder around men because she was abused as a child.” “The outside world doesn’t know these things. But before I came here, I used special channels to find out everything.” She leaned down and patted my bloody cheek. “If you’re going to lie, do your research first. Make your bullshit sound believable.” I lay paralyzed on the ground, my body turning ice cold. She was right. The public didn’t know these secrets. Even my brothers didn’t know what had happened between me and Damon. It was a rainy night. My surgery had failed again. I was still blind. I was hiding in the garden, drinking alone in depression. Then I heard a noise in the yard. Damon had scaled the wall. He was being hunted by rivals and had been drugged with a heavy aphrodisiac. I was heavily intoxicated too. I pulled him into the greenhouse to hide him. His mind was clouded, and I was drunk… It was a night of heated passion. When I sobered up, the sky was just turning light. Terrified that my brothers would kill him on sight, I hastily ordered my most trusted driver to sneak him out to a private hospital before he woke up. I pretended nothing happened. But he found me. He started sneaking into the estate, swearing he would take responsibility, keeping me company, bringing me little trinkets. Slowly, I realized… I wasn’t afraid of him anymore. He was born sterile, but my body had a uniquely rare constitution, making me highly fertile. From that single night, I got pregnant. When he found out, he cried, picking me up and spinning me around tightly. He said he was going to immediately formally ask my brothers for my hand in marriage. But I wanted to wait until my eyes were healed. I wanted to look at him clearly when I walked toward him. Not even my brothers knew this secret. The child in my womb was Damon’s hard-won miracle. He treasured it above all else. Once, a world-class specialist he secretly brought in to treat me accidentally bumped into my stomach, and Damon stabbed him to death on the spot. If he knew… My memories were shattered by a brutal yank. Chloe threw me onto the filthy ground like garbage and ripped off all my clothes in a few quick motions. My pale skin was exposed to the foul air, drawing a wave of whistles and jeers from the crowd of vagrants. Chloe’s voice carried a sick amusement: “I’m giving this little slut to you guys as a wife. Whoever gets her pregnant, I’ll pay for the wedding and buy you a house.” The beggars’ eyes lit up with predatory greed, and they lunged at me. I struggled with everything I had, screaming my curses: “If you do this to me… just wait! My brothers and Damon will slaughter every single one of you!!” Chloe dug her pinky into her ear, looking annoyed. She whispered something to a bald beggar next to her. The beggar nodded with a sycophantic grin, slammed his weight onto me, and violently bit my tongue clean off. “Mmm… the little beauty’s tongue is so soft and fragrant… so sweet.” His mouth covered in my blood, he sneered: “Shut up. You’re annoying the lady.” Under their savage brutality, a sudden, piercing cramp ripped through my abdomen. A warm, sticky liquid gushed from between my legs, rapidly staining the filthy ground beneath me crimson red. I wanted to scream like a madwoman, but with my mouth mutilated and bleeding, all I could produce were hollow gasps of air. My vision grew darker and darker. All that remained were endless hands moving in front of me, violating my already numb skin. Tears and blood covered my face. I don’t know how long it lasted before it all finally stopped. I lay paralyzed in a pool of my own blood, my breathing faint, wishing for nothing more than immediate death. Chloe let out a cold hmph. “Finally learned your place.” Her followers immediately chimed in to flatter her: “Chloe, you’re amazing! You really know how to deal with these gold-digging sluts trying to sleep their way to the top!” “Of course! Chloe was personally chosen by the Vance brothers. It’s only a matter of time before she becomes the lady of the Vance family!” “Chloe was born for greatness. Unlike some cheap trash who just pretend—garbage is still garbage.” Surrounded by praise, Chloe’s smile grew wider and wider, acting as if she were already the queen of the Vance empire. She grabbed me by the hair, looking down at my dying form. “Weren’t you talking tough? You think just because you got plastic surgery to look a little like the Vance brothers, you’re actually part of the family?” “Fine, I’ll take you to see them. I’ll let you see with your own eyes how well they treat me, how much they spoil me.” “I want you to hear them say I did the right thing.” She leaned in close, her voice dropping low, every word slicing into my heart: “When they execute you with their own hands… try not to cry too ugly.” I was hog-tied, stuffed into a massive gift box, and brought to the main mansion where my brothers lived. My brothers had returned. The gifts they brought back for me piled up taking half the living room. When Chloe walked in and saw the three breathtakingly handsome men standing in the hall, her heart skipped a beat. Her cheeks flushed. She assumed they were waiting for her. Seeing the room full of gifts, a shy anticipation blossomed in her chest. But my brothers were only gathered there because the time for my scheduled blood transfusion was approaching. They were just about to send someone to fetch her when she walked in on her own, dragging a large gift box behind her. Arthur, the eldest, furrowed his brow. “Chloe, what is this? Why is there such a heavy stench of blood?” Chloe purposefully softened her voice. “It’s a woman who didn’t know her place. She was trying to seduce you.” “Not only did she insult me and say I wasn’t worthy of the Vance family… but even more despicably, she dared to impersonate and insult your sister. Her words were absolutely filthy. Please, you must punish her severely!” Her lackeys hurriedly chimed in: “Yes! We’ve never seen such a shameless gold-digger! She even dared to sneak into the private mansion in the back!” “Thank goodness Chloe found her in time, otherwise who knows what she might have done…” The expressions of all three brothers changed drastically. They remembered that I lived in that back mansion. Assuming the box contained someone who wanted to harm me, their eyes instantly turned terrifyingly dark.

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On Christmas Eve, my brother, Liam Davis, placed a thick manila envelope stuffed with cash in front of me. “Em, here’s thirty thousand dollars. We’re getting you that heart bypass surgery tomorrow.” Shutterstock Explore He had hauled cinder blocks on a bad leg at a construction site for a whole year to scrape together this life-saving money. The next day, he accompanied me to the hospital. At the billing window, the nurse said, “This isn’t enough. You’re short twenty-nine thousand.” Liam froze. “Impossible! I gave her thirty grand yesterday!” He whipped his head around to look at me. I lowered my head and whispered, “Liam, the money… I spent it.” “Spent it?!” I pulled a brand-new designer handbag from behind my back. “I bought a bag.” In the hospital corridor, shaking with absolute fury, he slapped me hard across the face. “Emma Davis! That was the money to save your life! How could you?!” I clutched my cheek, glaring back at him with stubborn defiance. “I’d rather die than keep living in this kind of poverty!” 1 “Say that again?” Liam’s palm hovered in mid-air, his voice ice-cold. I met his fierce gaze head-on. “I said, I’d rather die than keep living in poverty! Thirty grand? Thirty grand is barely enough to buy this bag on discount!” The pointing and whispering from passersby pierced him like needles. Liam’s face went from flushed red to a sickly green, and finally, dead white. “Emma,” his voice was hoarse, “you were never like this.” “People change,” I forced a stiff smile. “Liam, you need to start living for yourself. Stop worrying about me. My illness is a bottomless money pit.” “I didn’t fucking ask you to fill it!” he roared. “I just want you to live!” He grabbed my wrist with a grip so tight it felt like he was crushing my bones, dragged me out of the hospital, and shoved me into a taxi. When we got back to our cramped, two-hundred-square-foot studio apartment, he pushed me inside and slammed the door shut. “Give it to me.” He held out his hand. I shook my head, hugging the bag tighter to my chest. “Emma, are you trying to drive me to an early grave?” His voice cracked with a sob. He turned and stormed behind the curtain that divided our tiny space. A second later, he walked out holding a dark green tin box and smashed it fiercely onto the floor. Crash! Cold, metallic military medals scattered across the linoleum. He picked up a yellowed photograph—it was a picture of me, smiling radiantly. He stared at it for a few seconds, and then, right in front of me, he slowly tore the photo into tiny pieces. “You hate being poor, right? Well, these things can’t be traded for money, and they can’t save your life either.” He looked up, his eyes filled with utter despair. “From today on, you are on your own. I don’t care if you live or die.” 2 Liam locked himself behind the curtain and didn’t come out. I sat on the freezing floor, clutching the bag, until the cell phone in my pocket vibrated. It was an anonymous text message: [Got the cash? Tomorrow at noon, the usual place. Try any funny business, and your brother’s ‘glorious deeds’ in the Army will be all over the internet tomorrow.] My heart violently contracted. I quickly deleted the text. “Glorious deeds”… Two years ago, Liam was discharged from the military. It wasn’t an honorable discharge; he was medically separated under a cloud of suspicion, deemed “unfit for continued service.” The day he came back, there was no welcome, no applause. Just a lonely, limping figure and a vague, redacted file. The military gave him a severance payout. But when he got home, he discovered that while he was deployed, our parents had spent everything trying to find a cure for my heart condition. The family went bankrupt, and shortly after, both of our parents were diagnosed with terminal illnesses. They hid it from us. Ultimately, because they couldn’t afford their own surgeries, they both passed away. Liam took all the blame onto himself. He took his military severance, combined it with the meager savings our parents left behind, and locked it all in a savings account. He didn’t dare touch a single cent, vowing it was the money to save my life. Half a month ago, a man named Marcus Thorne contacted me. He was my brother’s former squad mate. “Your brother, Liam, disobeyed direct orders and nearly got our entire squad killed back then. The brass swept it under the rug. But if this gets out, the VA will claw back every dime of his severance, and he’ll be publicly disgraced.” He sent a video clip as proof. “Give me thirty thousand dollars in hush money, or I mail the files to the press.” I knew that honor was Liam’s life. So I agreed. I bought a cheap knockoff designer bag to make the money’s disappearance look “logical.” From behind the curtain came a muffled cough. I knew he wasn’t asleep. I heated up a bowl of leftover Christmas stew and brought it to the curtain. “Liam, eat something.” No response. “If you don’t eat, I won’t eat.” A long time passed before the curtain was violently yanked open. Liam’s eyes were bloodshot, his exhaustion terrifying to look at. He glanced at the bowl in my hands, then at the designer bag on the sofa. A look of pure disgust crossed his face. “Throw it away.” “I won’t.” “Emma!” he growled. “You are the only family I have left in this world! I just want you to live! And you? You take your life-saving money to buy some piece of trash bag?!” “Who are you letting down? Are you letting me down? Are you letting Mom and Dad down?!” “Do you know what Mom’s dying words to me were? She said, ‘Liam, you have to take care of your sister!’” He snatched the bowl from my hands and smashed it onto the floor. Crash! White porcelain shattered everywhere. 3 Terrified, I backed up until I hit the wall. A sharp, violent pain pierced my heart. I clutched my chest, my face draining of color. The madness in his eyes faded, replaced by a flash of panic. “Em…” Using the wall for support, I staggered back to my small corner of the room. “Leave me alone, Liam.” The next day, while he was at the construction site, I sneaked out to meet Marcus. “Where’s the cash?” Marcus blew a smoke ring. I handed him the envelope. “Can you give me the drive now?” “The drive?” He played dumb. “That’s my insurance policy. Why would I just hand it over? Your brother is the reason I got kicked out of the Army. I’m going to take my time settling this score with him.” I trembled with rage. “You’re going back on your word?!” He sneered. “Alright, that’s it for today. Remember, you’re on call. If you dare go to the police, or tell your brother…” He leaned in, his malice undisguised. “I guarantee I’ll ruin his life.” I stood there like a puppet for a long time before walking home. By the time I got back, it was dark. On the table was a steaming bowl of soup and a grilled cheese sandwich, with a sticky note: [Eat while it’s hot.] The handwriting was crooked; he had written it with his left hand. His right hand, ruined from years of heavy labor, could barely hold a pen anymore. Tears fell from my eyes without warning. I ate the meal in large bites, swallowing it down with my tears. The door opened. Liam walked in, covered in concrete dust. He froze when he saw me, then pulled out a chair and sat down. His voice was dry. “The foreman gave me a two-hundred-dollar bonus. I’ll take you to get checked out tomorrow.” “Liam, I don’t want to go.” “Why?” “I know my own body. It can’t be cured.” I looked at him. “Instead of wasting money, I’d rather enjoy myself before I die.” His face darkened. “Stop talking nonsense. You have to get the surgery.” “I’m not doing it!” I raised my voice. “I said it can’t be cured! When Mom and Dad were alive, so many doctors said there was nothing they could do. What exactly are you fantasizing about?!” I stood up, looking down at him. “Liam, we aren’t kids anymore. In this world, you are nothing without money. I don’t want to live a life where I can see the miserable end from a mile away.” “I want pretty clothes. I want a good life. Is that a crime?” “I’m begging you, Liam. Stop torturing me. I just want to enjoy my last few days.” My words were like knives, each one drawing blood. Liam’s lips trembled. The disappointment in his eyes shifted into a total, dead silence. He slowly stood up, his shadow enveloping me. “I understand.” He turned and walked toward the door. “I’ll go make money for you.” “I’ll earn what you want. That good life.” The door clicked shut, cutting off all the light from the outside. 4 Liam truly began to work like a madman. Days at the construction site, evenings hauling lumber, and past midnight, he’d unload trucks at a meatpacking plant. He slept maybe three or four hours a day. We lived under the same roof but acted like strangers. Every time he got paid, he left the cash on the table with a note: Buy whatever you want. I hid it all away. I didn’t touch a single cent. I often wondered—if I didn’t exist, would Mom and Dad still be alive? Would my brother’s life not be so miserable? One night, Marcus showed up at my work. He dangled a USB flash drive. “New material. Your brother didn’t just disobey orders; he assaulted a fellow soldier. Got it right here on video. Fifty grand, and this drive is yours.” “I don’t have that kind of money!” “You don’t, but your brother does. He dotes on you so much. Tell him you want a fifty-thousand-dollar designer bag. He’ll give it to you.” “You have three days. Otherwise, I’m making copies and handing this video to every guy on your brother’s job site.” I went home, my hands and feet icy cold. To my surprise, Liam was there. A few dishes were set on the table, along with a bottle of cheap whiskey. His face was flushed red; he was already drunk. “You’re back?” He lifted heavy eyelids. “Today… is my birthday. It’s also the anniversary of Dad’s death.” My heart violently clenched. “Look at me, the ‘man of the house.’ What a failure, huh?” He laughed self-deprecatingly, swallowing his tears along with the whiskey. “I can’t even protect my only sister, and I let her despise me for being poor.” “Liam, stop drinking!” “Don’t touch me!” He stood up, swaying, and pulled out his wallet. He dumped all the cash out, scattering it across the table. “This is what I made this month. Twelve grand. If it’s not enough, I’ll go make more! I’ll go sell blood right now!” He actually turned to head for the door. “Liam!” I rushed forward and hugged him tightly from behind around his waist. “Don’t do this! I don’t want the money! I don’t want anything!” In the scuffle, my phone fell out of my pocket and hit the floor. The screen lit up. Displayed brightly was my Zelle transfer history. Liam stopped moving. He looked down and saw the phone on the floor. He bent down and picked it up. His pupils shrank violently. He stared at me with an intensity that terrified me. “What is this?” His voice was terrifyingly low. I backed away in terror. The piercing pain in my heart struck again, and my vision started to go black in waves. “It’s… it’s Marcus…” I used my last ounce of strength to say that name. 5 “Marcus…” That name was like a bullet, instantly piercing through the alcohol-numbed nerves in Liam’s brain. A loud ringing echoed in his ears as all his military memories—the ones he had intentionally buried—came rushing back like a flood through an opened dam. Marcus Thorne. The soldier who slacked off under his command. The coward who, during a massive hurricane rescue op in Louisiana, tried to run away and save his own skin, nearly getting a trapped child killed. The scumbag who, during the disciplinary review, twisted the truth, bit back at Liam, and was eventually kicked out of the military. It was him. Liam’s gaze slowly moved from the glaring transfer record on the phone screen to my paper-white face. My body slid down the wall. My breathing was rapid and shallow, my hand pressed tightly against my chest. It felt like an invisible hand was squeezing my heart so hard I couldn’t utter a single word. “Em!” The towering rage and confusion from a second ago were instantly extinguished by a massive wave of panic. He stumbled forward and scooped me up. My body was as light as a feather, trembling faintly in his arms. “Liam…” I grabbed his shirt collar, using the very last of my strength. “I’m sorry… that bag… was a fake…” The arms holding me instantly went rigid. “To protect… your honor… I couldn’t…” I couldn’t get the rest of the words out. Everything went black, and I completely lost consciousness. “Em! Emma!” Liam lost his mind. He carried me and sprinted downstairs. His disabled right leg screamed in agony from the excessive running, but he didn’t feel it. He only knew that the sister in his arms was slipping away from him. He hailed a cab, and it sped through the streets. In the chaos, he kept his eyes glued to me, calling my name over and over. Outside the emergency room, the red light flicked on. Liam stood in the corridor like a stone statue, drenched in sweat, the alcohol completely burned out of his system by cold terror. With trembling hands, he took out my phone and tapped into the locked photo album he had never touched. The password was the exact date his leg was crushed. There was only one photo inside. It was a screenshot Marcus had sent me—from the video of his supposed “insubordination.” Right after, he checked the deleted text messages in the trash folder. […Your brother cares so much about his honor. He wouldn’t want his reputation destroyed, right?] [Give me fifty grand, and this flash drive is yours. Otherwise, everyone at his job site gets a copy of this video.] [Tell him you want a fifty-thousand-dollar bag. He loves you so much, he’ll definitely pay up.] The phone slipped from his trembling hands and hit the floor. Everything made sense now. All those vicious words he couldn’t understand, the “I’d rather die than live in poverty” that had pierced his heart, the designer bag he thought represented vanity and betrayal… It was all fake. It was all his foolish little sister, enduring a torturous blackmail and the dual agony of disease and terror, just to protect him. He remembered the slap he had delivered in a fit of rage in the hospital corridor. He remembered how hysterically he had smashed the bowl of stew she heated up for him. He remembered how he had personally torn up their only family photo right in front of her, shredding her most cherished memory. He remembered the cruelest words he had ever spoken: “From today on, I don’t care if you live or die.” “AH—!” Liam let out a feral roar, slamming his fist brutally against the cold wall. The agonizing pain of fractured knuckles shot up his arm, and blood trailed down the paint, but that physical pain was less than a fraction of the slow torture happening to his heart. He was wrong. Unbelievably wrong. His sister, his only family, had been facing a hellish extortion alone, enduring pain and fear. And he—the brother who prided himself on being the “man of the house”—had delivered the most fatal stab using the most hurtful method possible. He slowly crouched down, burying his head in his knees. This tough veteran, who bled but never cried in the military, sobbed like a child abandoned by the world. “I’m sorry… Em… Liam was wrong… Wake up, hit me, curse at me… please, just wake up…” The doors to the ER swung open. The doctor pulled down his mask, his expression grave. “The patient’s heart failure is critical. The delayed treatment, combined with the severe emotional trauma she just experienced, means she’s missed the optimal window for surgery. We have to operate immediately, but the survival rate… is less than thirty percent. As her family, you need to prepare yourself.” “The surgical fee requires eighty thousand dollars upfront. Please go handle the billing first.” Eighty thousand. Liam’s mind went blank. He had just dumped all twelve thousand dollars he had onto the table at the apartment. Where was he going to find the rest? The doctor looked at his devastated state and sighed. “Hurry. Time waits for no one.” Liam abruptly stood up. He thought of the video on the phone. He immediately picked up the phone and opened the video file. On the screen was footage of him and Marcus engaged in a brutal fistfight. It was the most humiliating memory of his life, the root cause of his medical discharge. But now, as he watched it, there was no humiliation in his eyes—only a blazing, consuming fire meant to burn everything to the ground. He pulled out his phone and dialed the number he knew by heart. “Marcus.” His voice was terrifyingly calm. On the other end of the line, Marcus paused, then laughed smugly. “Well, well, if it isn’t our great hero Liam. How do you have the time to call me? Figured it out? Did your sister finally give you the money?” “Fifty thousand, right?” Liam asked. “No, no, no,” Marcus drawled out. “It’s not fifty anymore. You made me wait this long. Emotional distress, lost wages… Let’s round it up to a hundred thousand. Not a penny less.” “Alright.” Liam agreed with unnatural swiftness. “One hundred thousand. I’ll give it to you.” Marcus clearly hadn’t expected him to fold so easily. He laughed even harder. “Should’ve done this from the start. Send me the address. I’ll come pick it up.” “No need,” Liam said, looking through the window at the glowing ‘EMERGENCY’ sign outside. He spoke each word deliberately. “Come to Central Hospital. I’ll be waiting for you in the courtyard downstairs.” 6 Hanging up the phone, Liam turned and left the hospital. He didn’t go home for the twelve thousand, because he knew it wouldn’t be nearly enough. Limping, he walked toward the other side of the city—to a shady, chaotic black market he had sworn never to set foot in. He pulled a carefully wrapped cloth bundle from his jacket. It contained the medals he had quietly picked up from the floor and pieced back together after smashing the tin box. One Silver Star. Two Army Commendation Medals. Those were the honors he had bought with his life, the proof of all his worth in the first half of his life. “Boss, how much is this worth?” He placed the three medals on the counter. The pawnshop owner, a scrawny middle-aged man in gold-rimmed glasses, picked them up. He glanced at Liam’s scarred hands and his bad leg, a faint glimmer of disdain in his eyes. “They’re real, alright. But these things… there’s no real market for them, buddy. It’s illegal to sell ’em.” “I just need cash. To save a life.” Liam’s voice was raspy. The owner pondered for a moment, then held up three fingers. “Three thousand.” “What?” Liam’s eyes instantly turned red. “This is a fucking Silver Star! Back then, I…” “I don’t care what you did back then,” the owner cut him off, sliding the medals back. “To me, this is just scrap metal. I’m offering three grand out of pity. If you take this anywhere else, they might not even dare to buy it. Take it or leave it.” Liam clenched his fists so hard his nails dug into his palms, and blood seeped out again. He thought of Marcus’s extortion. He thought of his sister’s pale face. He thought of the doctor saying “less than thirty percent.” Dignity, honor, the past… in the face of his sister’s life, they were worthless. “…Fine.” He gritted out. “Three thousand. I’ll sell.” Clutching the stack of bills that smelled of blood and desperation, Liam returned to the small courtyard below the hospital. The night wind was biting, making his injured leg ache in waves. Not long after, Marcus arrived arrogantly on a motorcycle. “Where’s the cash?” He took off his helmet, looking impatient. Liam didn’t speak. He just stared at him. It was the look you give a dead man. Marcus felt a chill crawl up his spine. “What are you looking at! Hand over the money! I got drinking to do after this!” “Marcus,” Liam finally spoke. “Back in Louisiana, during the hurricane op. Do you remember?” Marcus paused. “Why bring up that old crap?” “That day, torrential rain, a mudslide. A little girl was trapped in a house that was about to collapse. I told you to come with me to save her, but you were scared of dying and hid in the back. I went in alone and carried her out. The moment the house collapsed, a concrete slab fell and crushed my leg.” “What does that have to do with me?!” Marcus yelled, trying to mask his fear with bravado. “But when you filed the report, you claimed I disobeyed orders and acted on my own, and that your ‘big picture thinking’ was what prevented further casualties. Later, in the barracks, I confronted you, and you dared to throw the first punch. That’s how that video happened.” Liam walked toward him step by step. “Marcus, someone like you… do you even deserve to wear that uniform?” Marcus’s face went from green to white. He hadn’t expected Liam to dig up the past. “Cut the bullshit!” he yelled, humiliated and furious. “The past is in the past! You owe me now! Hand over the money!” He reached out to snatch the cloth bag from Liam’s hand. The moment he made contact, Liam moved. His injured leg acted as if it couldn’t feel pain, pivoting at a terrifying angle. His other hand shot out like lightning, clamping onto Marcus’s wrist and twisting it backward violently! SNAP! “AHHH—!” The sickening crunch of breaking bone and Marcus’s scream echoed simultaneously. Liam didn’t stop. A clean, brutal uppercut slammed directly into Marcus’s jaw. Marcus hit the ground hard, blood spraying from his nose and mouth. Liam stood over him like a god of vengeance. He searched Marcus’s jacket, finding his phone and wallet. He located the original video file Marcus had used to threaten Emma, and right in front of him, deleted it permanently. “This cash here, plus the thirty thousand you extorted from my sister—I’m handing every single cent of it to the police.” Liam placed his boot on Marcus’s broken hand, slowly applying pressure. “And you are going to sit in a prison cell and do some serious repenting.” He pulled out his phone and dialed 911. After doing all this, he took the three thousand dollars from his medals, combined it with the several thousand in illicit cash he recovered from Marcus’s wallet, clutched it in his hand, and sprinted back into the hospital. “Doctor! I got some of the money! Please, start the surgery! I’ll go find the rest right now! I’ll sign an IOU! I’ll sell my blood! I’ll sell a kidney if I have to!” He slammed the messy stack of bills onto the billing window, roaring at the nurses and doctors, completely ignoring the shocked stares of everyone around him. The head nurse sighed and handed him a clipboard. “Sir, please calm down. We will figure out the money situation. But I need you to sign this right now.” It was a “Critical Condition Notice” and a “Surgical Consent Form.” Liam’s hand was shaking so badly he couldn’t hold the pen. He tried several times before finally, crookedly, signing his name on the line. Every stroke felt like it was carving into his own heart. The light above the operating room flicked on again. This time, what awaited him was a torment longer than hell.

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When my parents reached their twilight years, the unspoken burden of their care fell heavy on the shoulders of their two daughters. My younger sister, Harper, was packing her designer bags to relocate to Europe with her wealthy foreign husband. I, on the other hand, was rooted in a modest two-bedroom house in a quiet Rust Belt suburb, married to an independent ride-share driver who worked twelve-hour shifts just to keep the lights on. Penniless and demanding, my mother, Diane, designated me as her caregiver. Meanwhile, my father took the entirety of their life savings and followed Harper across the Atlantic to fund her glittering new life. We didn’t have much, but my husband and I gave up our master bedroom for my mother. It was never enough. She complained incessantly, snapping that living with me was a punishment. Every single night, she’d FaceTime Harper, her eyes wide with envy at the European villas and Michelin-starred dinners on the screen. And every night, she’d end the call by throwing barbed comments my way, blaming me for her mediocre existence. I was drowning. Mid-life had me suffocating under the weight of caring for a bitter mother, a teenage daughter drowning in SAT prep, a husband suffering from chronic back pain behind the wheel, and my own aging in-laws. One thing after another crushed the breath out of me. And through it all, my mother relentlessly threw tantrums, demanding I buy her a first-class ticket to Europe for Harper’s birthday. The pressure finally fractured me. I snapped. We had a screaming match that shook the foundation of our tiny house. The sheer venom of her own rage triggered a massive stroke. Lying in the stark white hospital bed, surrounded by the rhythmic beeping of monitors, she didn’t look at me with gratitude. She didn’t hold my hand. Through the paralysis, she managed to gasp out Harper’s name. Her eyes locked onto mine, bulging with absolute, unadulterated regret. “If I had known…” she choked out, the vitriol thick in her throat. “I never should have chosen a useless, pathetic daughter like you.” The monitor flatlined. The heartbreak hit me so hard the room spun into blackness. I collapsed. When I opened my eyes, the smell of hospital antiseptic was gone, replaced by the scent of old coffee and my parents’ living room. I was ten years in the past. It was the exact afternoon they were dividing up their retirement care. Before I could even process the impossible reality of the moment, my mother’s voice pierced the air, sharp and desperate. “I’m going with Harper! I want my youngest to take care of me. It’s my turn to finally enjoy my life!” 01 The sheer panic in her voice told me everything I needed to know. She remembered, too. She harbored a decade of resentment toward me for not giving her the life of luxury she felt she deserved, and now, she was practically climbing over herself to choose the daughter who had “made it.” But in her desperate greed, my mother forgot one crucial detail from our past life: it wasn’t that she hadn’t wanted Harper. It was that Harper had never wanted her. Diane had been a stay-at-home mother her entire life, treating the world as if it owed her a debt. She had zero retirement savings. Years ago, I had begged Harper to split the cost of a modest retirement fund for her, but Harper had shut me down cold. Why? Harper had argued. She has two daughters. Are we going to let her starve? Besides, Harper was married to a British investment banker. She had money to burn. But given the choice between our loud, crass, endlessly demanding mother and our quiet father—a retired high school history teacher—Harper vastly preferred Dad. At the very least, he wouldn’t embarrass her at her country club dinners. Right on cue, a flicker of profound inconvenience crossed Harper’s perfectly contoured face. She offered a tight, sugary smile. “Mom, you know I’d love to have you, but your health… those transatlantic flights are brutal. You really should stay here in the States with Sarah!” “We’ll fly back and visit all the time, I promise!” Harper shot me a desperate, conspiratorial look. “Right, Sarah? Plus, Mom can help you watch Mia.” A cold, hard laugh echoed in my chest, but I kept my face blank. I didn’t say a word. In my past life, my mother had used “watching my child” as her golden excuse to move in. In reality, she slept until noon, spent her afternoons glued to reality TV, and her nights FaceTiming Harper. My mother-in-law was the one who actually picked Mia up from school. One rainy afternoon, my mother-in-law slipped on wet leaves and broke her leg. My husband and I were both stuck at work an hour away. I called my mother, begging her to just walk the four blocks to get Mia. She refused. She said it was too wet, too exhausting. She left my nine-year-old daughter sitting on a bench in the dark until a school security guard took pity and drove her home. Seeing my silence, my mother shot me a look of pure disgust. “I am pushing sixty. I’ve done my time. She can raise her own kid; stop expecting me to do your dirty work.” She turned back to Harper, her tone turning to steel. “It’s settled. Next month, I’m moving to Europe with you. Your father can stay here with Sarah.” 02 My father, Arthur, didn’t argue. He hadn’t actually wanted to go to Europe in the first place. The thought of navigating a foreign country where he didn’t speak the language and knew no one terrified him. In the last life, Dad had begged to come home after a year, but Harper wouldn’t let him. She and her husband had three children back-to-back, and they essentially used my father as an unpaid, live-in nanny so they could maintain their jet-setting lifestyle. Thankfully, Dad had the patience of a saint. Treating his grandkids like his old students kept him sane, but the exhaustion aged him a decade in a matter of years. Meanwhile, my mother had spent that entire life seething with jealousy, claiming Dad didn’t know how good he had it. If I were the one living in that European mansion, she used to spit at me, I’d actually know how to live. She made sure to only call Harper when I was in the room, dropping passive-aggressive bombs about how my blue-collar husband could never provide a life worth living. Seeing that my mother wouldn’t budge, Harper crossed her arms, her diamond rings catching the light. “Fine, Mom. You can come. But Europe is incredibly expensive, and you don’t have a dime to your name. If you want to come, you and Dad need to sell the properties and bring the cash.” My parents owned two modest, aging bungalows in our working-class town. In the last life, they liquidated both for barely over three hundred thousand dollars. My mother had packed every single cent of it into her suitcase and took it to Harper, weeping about how expensive her “baby girl’s” lifestyle was. This time, I didn’t wait. I cut in, my voice dead calm. “You can sell one house. But Dad is keeping the other one to live in.” Having lived through the suffocating hell of the past decade, there was absolutely no way I was letting my father move into my house. I needed a boundary. Before Harper could even open her mouth, my mother exploded from her chair. “Excuse me? Why the hell should we keep a house? Your father is moving in with you! That’s what having kids is for!” I swallowed the sharp spike of rage in my throat and kept my tone level. “You know how small our place is, Mom. Dad wouldn’t be comfortable crammed in there with us.” “Oh, please!” My mother sneered, looking me up and down like I was trash on her shoe. “That’s your own fault for marrying a loser with no money. If you had an ounce of sense and married well like your sister, you’d be living in a McMansion by now!” The absolute contempt in her eyes was a physical blow. It’s a brutal truth: when you have no money, the first people to look down on you are your own parents. The overt favoritism hadn’t started until Harper and I said our vows. Harper was allowed to buy three-hundred-dollar boots on a whim and be called “stylish.” If I bought a ten-dollar pint of premium ice cream as a treat for my daughter, I was “reckless and financially irresponsible.” Harper rolled her eyes, sighing heavily. “God, Sarah, stop playing the victim. Dad has his teacher’s pension. You won’t even have to pay for him. Both of these houses should be my compensation for taking on Mom.” 03 “Exactly!” My mother practically cheered, pointing a trembling finger at me. “These houses are our property, we’ll give them to whoever we damn well please! Sarah, are you trying to bleed us dry before we’re even in the ground to fund your deadbeat husband?” Bleed them dry? I almost laughed. There was nothing to bleed. If anything, it was my husband, Mark, who handed over whatever meager tips he made to help fix their leaky roof or buy their groceries. My blood ran to ice. “Fine,” I said softly. “If you don’t like my terms, take both of them to Europe. Take the houses. Take the money. I’m out.” I stood up, grabbing my purse. “Don’t you dare walk away from me!” my mother shrieked, her voice echoing off the cheap linoleum. “Houses or no houses, we are your parents! You owe us!” Hearing the shouting, Mark hurried out of the kitchen, nervously wiping his hands on a dish towel. He had a plate of sliced apples in his hand. He offered that gentle, people-pleasing smile that always broke my heart. “Hey, let’s just calm down. I know Sebastian does well for himself, but we’re absolutely going to take care of Dad. We’ll make it work.” Looking at my husband, bending over backward just to appease people who despised him, a heavy ache settled in my chest. In our last life, Mark had given up our bed. He had slept on a sagging mattress in Mia’s cramped room without a single word of complaint. My brilliant daughter hadn’t even had room for a desk; she spent her entire high school career hunched over our scuffed coffee table, ruining her posture to do her calculus homework. I swore to God, in this life, I would never let them suffer like that again. My mother didn’t even look at Mark. She just scoffed. “If you were half a man and could afford to take us abroad, we wouldn’t have to split up our retirement, would we?” Mark stood there, frozen and humiliated. On the sofa, Sebastian, my brother-in-law, sat with his legs crossed, scrolling on his phone. He looked supremely bored. He muttered something in a clipped British accent to Harper, asking how much longer this “bloody domestic” was going to take because he had a massage booked at the Four Seasons downtown. The utter disdain radiated off him in waves. My mother practically tripped over herself to shove the plate of apples toward him. “Sebastian, darling, eat some fruit. You work so hard, you need the sugar for your big brain.” Sebastian ignored her, standing up and brushing invisible lint off his bespoke suit. Harper quickly stood up with him. “Mom, listen. If you’re coming with us, you need to bring at least three hundred grand in cash. Otherwise, Sebastian’s lawyers can’t even begin to process your residency visa.” I stood my ground, my eyes locked on my father. “Dad, if you want me to handle your care, you can’t come empty-handed. We split the houses. One for Harper, one for you.” My mother glared at me, utterly baffled by my sudden spine. But she was dead set on Europe. Suddenly, she bolted into the kitchen. A second later, she marched back out, pressing a dull kitchen knife against her own throat. “Sarah!” she screamed, spit flying from her lips. “If you don’t let me sell both houses, I’ll kill myself right here! I’ll make sure the whole neighborhood knows you drove your own mother to the grave!” 04 The room erupted. Harper shrieked, covering her mouth. Sebastian’s eyes widened, and he muttered a string of harsh curses, stepping backward. My father clutched his chest, his face pale. “Good lord, Diane, put that down! How did it come to this?” He looked at me, pleading. “Sarah, please. You know how your mother gets. Just give her what she wants.” “Sarah, it’s just a house!” Harper cried, backing away. “It’s their money anyway, why are you pushing her to the edge?!” I stood there, trembling, but not from fear. From absolute, blinding rage. My mother looked at me from behind the blade, a triumphant, sick glint in her eyes. She was reveling in this. She was wielding her title as “Mother” like a loaded gun. Suddenly, a warm, calloused hand slipped into mine. Mark. He looked at me, his eyes steady and kind. “Sarah, let it go. We don’t need the house. Don’t fight her on this. Dad can come live with us. We’ll manage.” Tears pricked the back of my eyes. I took a shaky breath, grounding myself in the warmth of his grip. I nodded slowly. “Fine,” I said, my voice cutting through the hysteria. “I drop my claim on the property. But we are signing a legally binding agreement right now.” I looked dead at Harper. “From this day forward, you are solely responsible for Mom. I am solely responsible for Dad. No matter what happens—no matter who goes broke, gets sick, or changes their mind—we do not cross lines. No take-backs.” Before Harper could even process the terms, my mother dropped the knife on the table. “Deal! Without you around to give me high blood pressure, I’ll live to be a hundred!” Harper, doing the math on the extra three hundred thousand dollars she was about to pocket, kept her mouth shut. I masked the cold satisfaction pooling in my chest. I remembered a very specific phone call I had received in the hospital waiting room in my last life. It was from Harper. It was a desperate plea for cash. The glittering European life was a mirage. Harper spent her days fighting off a revolving door of Sebastian’s mistresses, only to discover she was just another pawn in his game. Sebastian had eventually frozen her bank accounts, leaving her stranded and hysterical, begging me to wire her enough money to escape. I had died before I could send it. This time, my mother was going with her. I couldn’t wait to see how long the two of them lasted in that particular circle of hell. 05 Once the houses sold, my mother became the terror of the neighborhood. She paraded down the sidewalks, loudly bragging to anyone who would listen about how her youngest was flying her out to live like a queen in Monaco. The neighbors ate it up, sighing with envy. “You’re so lucky, Diane,” they’d say. “Who would’ve thought? Sarah was always the quiet, responsible one, but Harper really hit the jackpot.” I let their gossip roll off my back like water. I was busy taking a small loan and renting a cozy, ground-floor apartment right next door to my house for my dad. When my mother found out I wasn’t moving him into my guest room, she threw an absolute fit, telling the grocery store clerk I was an ungrateful wretch throwing my father to the wolves. In reality, my dad was thrilled. He had his own space, his own TV, and the quiet dignity of independence without being a burden. The day they left, Dad and I drove them to the airport. My mother strutted through the terminal draped in an oversized cashmere coat she’d bought for the trip, acting like Hollywood royalty. She didn’t look at me once. Her eyes were already fixed on the illusion of yachts and champagne. Dad wiped his eyes, pulling me into a hug. “Call us when you land. We’ll come visit you guys soon.” “Tell Sarah’s husband to drive a few extra shifts, then,” my mother sniped without missing a beat. “Otherwise, you won’t even be able to afford the baggage fees.” Even now, she was punishing me for the past life, holding onto the grudge that I hadn’t magically produced the money to send her to Harper. I looked at the floor, keeping my mouth shut. Enjoy her, Harper. She’s yours forever. Dad looked mortified. “Sarah is doing just fine, Diane. Money or no money, she’s our daughter.” A sudden, fierce sting hit my eyes. In my past life, after Dad boarded his flight, I never saw him in person again. I never knew if he was okay, or if he died regretting leaving me. He was a deeply gentle man, but his fatal flaw was his cowardice. He had let my mother bulldoze him for forty years. By the security gate, Harper checked her Cartier watch. “Come on, Mom. We need to go. If we miss the lounge, I’m going to be annoyed.” My mother practically skipped toward the TSA line. She threw one last look over her shoulder. “Look at your sister, Sarah. Money changes everything. The world is her oyster!” Yeah, I thought. So why didn’t she ever come back to visit you in the last life? I forced a stiff, polite smile. I raised my hand in a little wave. “Have a good trip, Mom. I really hope Europe is everything you deserve.” 06 With Diane and Harper an ocean away, my life settled into a deep, beautiful quiet I hadn’t felt in decades. I never asked Dad to do chores, but every morning, he was up at dawn. He’d go for a walk, pick up fresh bagels from the bakery, and have coffee waiting for us. After breakfast, he insisted on driving Mia to school, whistling old jazz tunes in the car. Mark was so moved by the help that he hugged me in the kitchen one night, his eyes shining, and told me he wanted to buy Dad a real thank-you gift. Knowing Dad loved to sketch, Mark saved up and bought him a set of high-end charcoal pencils and imported drawing paper. Dad actually cried when he opened it. He practically declared Mark his favorite son. Our house felt warm. It felt like a home. Until the phone rang at 3:00 AM. I jolted awake, my heart hammering against my ribs. I fumbled in the dark, grabbing my phone from the nightstand. It was a FaceTime call from my mother. I blindly accepted it. The screen flared with blinding sunlight. My mother’s face filled the frame, a manic, triumphant grin stretching cheek to cheek. “Look!” she yelled, panning the camera around to show a sprawling patio and a glittering blue pool. “This is Harper’s villa! Look at this pool! Have you ever seen anything so gorgeous in your life?” I rubbed my burning eyes, my voice gravelly. “You don’t even know how to swim, Mom. Why are you so excited?” Her smile vanished instantly. Her face hardened into a scowl. “You always were a miserable, jealous bitch, Sarah. No wonder nobody likes you.” Before I could even process the insult, the screen went black. She hung up. The next night, right on schedule, the phone buzzed at 2:00 AM. It was mid-afternoon in Monaco. She was calling to brag that Harper had taken her shopping at a “luxury boutique.” She held up a gaudy, floral silk shirt to the camera. I could clearly see the red clearance sticker dangling from the tag. In the last life, I had taken her to the mall every change of season, buying her sweaters from brands I couldn’t even afford for myself. It was never enough. She always insisted that if Harper were there, Harper would buy her couture. I stared at the screen, at my mother’s face wrinkled in a desperate, gloating smile. My voice was dead flat. “That’s great, Mom. It’s two in the morning here. Do not call me at this hour again. I have to go to work.” I hung up. I flipped the phone to silent, shoved it under my pillow, and buried my face in the mattress. But the adrenaline was already rushing through my veins. I couldn’t sleep. She knew about the time difference. She had complained about it endlessly when she called Harper in the last life. She just didn’t care. My rest simply didn’t matter to her. 07 Since I stopped answering her midnight calls, my mother went quiet for about a week. But then, she found a new target. It was 1:00 AM on a Tuesday. A shrill ringtone shattered the silence. I gasped, sitting straight up. It was Mark’s phone. He grabbed it, his eyes squinting at the bright screen, and answered. Instantly, my mother’s shrieking voice filled the dark bedroom. “Who the hell do you think you are, letting my daughter ignore my calls?! Is this how you run your house? You have no respect!” Mark, rubbing his temples, tried to keep his voice gentle. “Mom, please, it’s the middle of the night. Sarah has to be up at six for work. She wasn’t ignoring you, she’s just exhausted—” “Oh, she’s exhausted? Good! She deserves it!” My mother spat. “I told her a million times to marry someone who could actually provide! If she had a real man, she could sit at home all day like a normal woman instead of breaking her back for pennies!” A white-hot rage, forged by weeks of insomnia and decades of disrespect, erupted in my chest. I ripped the phone out of Mark’s hand. “Listen to me,” I hissed into the receiver. “You chose your wealthy, perfect daughter. Focus on her. Do not ever call this number again!” I hit end. I blocked her number on Mark’s phone. I blocked it on mine. For a long time, there was nothing but peace. My sleep returned. The knot in my shoulders loosened. Until one night, a frantic pounding on my front door woke me. It was Dad. He was in his pajamas, his face pale, clutching his iPad. “Sarah, open up!” he yelled through the wood. “It’s your mother. Something’s wrong!”

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At my sister’s eighteenth birthday gala—the grand “welcome home” for the true Blackwell heiress—I managed to steal the spotlight with a single white envelope. It was a formal acceptance letter from Stanford, complete with a full-ride scholarship. Ignoring the venom in my sister’s eyes, I took the envelope from the courier. Suddenly, a flicker of translucent text—like a live comment feed—scrolled across my vision. [This villainess is actually insufferable. She really chose this exact moment to flaunt her acceptance?] [Don’t worry, bestie, I’ve got the spoilers. This “fake” daughter is about to get dumped by the male lead at her own engagement party. She can’t handle the humiliation and ends up jumping off a building. Dead at twenty.] [Serves her right! The more she shines tonight, the harder she’s going to hit the pavement later!] My hand froze on the seal of the envelope. Okay, fine. I was the “fake” daughter—swapped at birth and raised in luxury for eighteen years while the biological daughter, Serenity, suffered in some backwater town. We found out the truth six months ago. But villainous? What had I actually done? I glanced at my fiancé, Silas, who was currently wearing a stiff, practiced smile. I immediately pulled out my phone and fired off a text: [Stop smiling at me. I just had an epiphany. Stay the hell away from me.] 1 Silas, oblivious to the message, started walking toward me. I was still trying to process the scrolling text in my peripheral vision. Jumping off a building? Me? The “villainess”? I’d been a Blackwell for eighteen years. When the truth came out, my parents—Harrison and Madeline—brought Serenity home. Today was her debut, her big “I’m back” party. I looked down at the letter in my hand, feeling a sudden urge to cry. The courier had a voice like a foghorn; everyone in the ballroom had heard him announce it was a scholarship notification from Stanford. They’d all cheered and congratulated me. How was that me showing off? I didn’t call the courier! And yet, because I opened a piece of mail at Serenity’s party, I was framed as the jealous antagonist. And apparently, I was destined to die for the sake of Silas and Serenity’s “epic love story.” The thought made me shiver. Falling from a building sounded painful. No, thank you. I instinctively folded the letter, trying to shove it back into the envelope. I didn’t want the spotlight. I wanted to live. But the feed in front of my eyes was relentless. [Ugh, Silas is still hanging onto that “childhood sweetheart” sentiment. Our poor Serenity just has to stand there and watch the man she loves hover over that fraud.] [When is he going to see Summer’s true colors?] [I just want to see the main couple together. Get this brat off my screen!] As Silas drew closer, I screamed internally: Don’t come over here! Before I could retreat, a soft, fragile voice cut through the air, laced with a bitterness she couldn’t quite hide. “Summer.” Serenity stood there in a custom couture gown, looking every bit the princess, but her eyes were cold. She held a champagne flute, a fake, practiced smile plastered on her face. “Congratulations. Stanford… that’s incredible. I guess some people are just born lucky.” Before I could even open my mouth, her voice wavered, turning thick with unshed tears. “Unlike me. Back in that town, I couldn’t even afford SAT prep books. I spent every afternoon working at the diner just to help pay the rent…” Her eyes rimmed with red. She looked like a wounded bird. The feed went wild: [Oh my god, my poor baby Serenity! She’s so strong.] [The villainess literally stole her life for eighteen years and has the nerve to brag!] [Protect Serenity at all costs!] The atmosphere in the room shifted instantly. The guests’ admiring glances curdled into pity for Serenity and a sharp, judgmental scrutiny of me. My mother, Madeline, rushed over, pulling Serenity into a protective embrace. “Oh, honey, don’t think about those days. Today is your birthday. You’re home now. We’re going to make up for everything.” My father, Harrison, shot me a look of deep disapproval. “Summer, today is Serenity’s day. Your news could have waited.” Serenity wiped a stray tear, giving a martyr’s smile. “I had planned to study so hard these next few months,” she whispered. “I wanted to prove to you both that even though I grew up the way I did, I wouldn’t embarrass the Blackwell name. But I guess I’ll never be as brilliant as Summer.” She lowered her head, the picture of shattered self-esteem. My older brother, Casey—who usually couldn’t be bothered to care about anything—actually handed her a silk handkerchief. He turned to me, his jaw set. “Summer, you’ve occupied Serenity’s place for eighteen years. You should be keeping your head down, not trying to outshine her at her own party.” “It’s just an acceptance letter, Casey,” I started, my voice trembling. “It’s a slap in the face!” he snapped. “If you actually care about this family—if you care about her—you’ll turn down the spot. Give it up. Retake the year. Go through the regular admissions process next year like everyone else so you don’t make Serenity feel like a failure on her first night home.” 2 “Casey! Do you even hear yourself?” My voice was shaking with a mix of fury and pure shock. This wasn’t just a “spot.” This was my future. I had spent four years of sleepless nights, late-stage caffeine binges, and grueling extracurriculars to earn that letter. Casey let out a cold snort, looking at me with total impatience. “You owe her, Summer. You stole eighteen years of her life. Now you want to steal her moment, too?” Mother opened her mouth as if to protest, but then she looked at Serenity’s trembling shoulders and simply sighed—a heavy, suffocating sound. Father remained silent for a long moment before finally speaking. “Summer, Casey is being blunt, but… he’s not entirely wrong. You need to be more mindful of Serenity’s feelings.” The feed was a chorus of digital cheers. [Yes! Finally, Serenity has a family that chooses her!] [Casey is the best big brother. Get her!] [Hahaha, watching the villainess squirm is so satisfying. If she loses her spot, she’ll have to redo senior year, lose her mind with jealousy over Silas and Serenity, and eventually fail her finals. She’ll end up at some third-rate community college while the main couple flourishes!] I rolled my eyes so hard it hurt. If I lose my education, why the hell should I care about her “feelings”? I clutched the envelope to my chest. “Dad, I worked for this. I’m not giving it up—” Suddenly, Silas, who had been standing beside me, spoke up. “Summer,” he said softly. “Serenity just got back. Maybe we should focus on her for a while. You’re smart; you’ve already proven you can get in. Why not just take a gap year? Experience life a bit? It would keep the peace.” The feed exploded in joy. [It’s happening! Silas is siding with Serenity!] [Put the villainess in her place!] [I ship it! Silas is already subconsciously protecting the real heiress!] I bit my lip so hard I tasted copper. This goddamn plot armor. Serenity could breathe, and they’d interpret it as a poetic tragedy. I took a deep breath, forcing back the scream building in my throat. I let a fragile, defeated smile touch my lips. “I see,” I whispered, letting my eyes well up. “I understand. If that’s what everyone wants… I’ll do it. I’ll go through the process again next year.” I looked at my parents, my voice small and hollow. “I didn’t mean to take anything away from her tonight. I’m sorry.” My sudden compliance caught everyone off guard. Casey’s expression flickered with a brief, uncomfortable flash of guilt. Serenity broke away from Mother’s embrace, waving her hands innocently. “No, Summer! You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s my fault for coming back and taking your parents’ love. I should be the one apologizing.” The feed turned on me again. [Look at that snake, acting all pitiful to make the family feel guilty. Disgusting!] [Serenity is too pure for this world. She’s apologizing to the person who robbed her!] [Don’t apologize, baby! You did nothing wrong!] I was genuinely stunned. When I acted vulnerable, I was a “snake.” When she did it, she was a “saint.” The sheer double standard made my vision go red. Serenity moved toward me, looking like she wanted to offer a comfort I knew was poison. In her clumsy “haste,” she bumped into the side table. Her champagne glass tilted, perfectly aimed. A stream of amber liquid poured directly onto the envelope in my hand. 3 “Oh no!” Serenity gasped, her hands fluttering as she grabbed the envelope from me. Instead of helping, she managed to tear the damp paper, ensuring the red-wine-stained liquid soaked through to the actual letter inside. “I’m so sorry! I’m so clumsy… I was just trying to help…” she sobbed. “Summer, what have I done? I ruined your letter! I’m so stupid!” I didn’t even have the energy to roll my eyes anymore. The feed was practically weeping for her. [Aww, she’s so sweet, trying to help even after the villainess was mean to her.] [Stellar move! Now she literally has no choice but to wait a year!] [Karma! That’s what you get for bragging!] Mother immediately pulled Serenity back. “It’s okay, honey. It was an accident. Don’t blame yourself.” Casey shrugged, his voice indifferent. “Exactly. It’s just paper, Serenity. Summer said she’d wait a year anyway. If she’d put it away like a normal person, this wouldn’t have happened.” Serenity looked at me with faux-anguish. “But… but now she has to wait. It’s all my fault…” I suddenly remembered what the feed said: She loses her mind with jealousy, fails her finals, and ends up in exile. So this was her game. My parents and Casey looked at me, waiting for an outburst. Casey finally muttered, “A year isn’t that long. We’ll pay for whatever tutors you need next time. It’s not like we can’t afford it.” Mother nodded in agreement. The anger finally boiled over. I wanted to slap them both—Casey and Serenity. My brother was officially an idiot. I raised my hand, my heart hammering—but before I could do anything, Silas’s hand closed around my wrist. “She’s overwhelmed,” Silas said to the group, his voice firm as he began leading me toward the grand staircase. “I’ll take her upstairs to calm down.” I struggled against him, scratching at his arm. I almost forgot about you! You’re just as bad! Once we were behind the closed doors of the upstairs study, I didn’t hesitate. I swung my hand and slapped Silas across the face. His head snapped to the side. A red mark bloomed on his cheek instantly, but he didn’t let go of me. He just held me. “Are you done?” he asked quietly. “Summer, listen to me. I just talked to a contact at the admissions office. We can get a duplicate letter sent. Don’t worry about the physical paper.” I stopped struggling. I knew I could get a duplicate. That wasn’t the point. The point was that every single person I loved had just traded my future for a stranger’s smile. The feed was losing its mind. [Get away from her, Silas! You’re supposed to be holding Serenity!] Fury spiked in me. I grabbed Silas by the lapels of his tuxedo, pulled him down, and kissed him hard on the cheek, right over the slap mark. Silas froze, his ears turning a deep, violent red. The feed erupted into a stream of curses and insults. I pulled back and flashed a cold, triumphant smile. If I’m miserable, everyone’s going to be miserable. Including you, “audience.” Silas took a moment to find his voice. “You… you’re really angry, aren’t you?” “No duh, Silas.” “Listen,” he said, looking at the floor. “I told you to go along with the gap year because… because you already have the win. Whether you go now or in a year, you’re still Summer Blackwell. I thought if you yielded, it would make things easier at home for a while. I was trying to protect your peace.” The feed glitched. [Wait, what? It’s not because of Serenity?] [Don’t be fooled! Silas is just confused. He’s subconsciously leaning toward the real heroine!] [This is the ‘childhood bond’ trope before he realizes he actually hates her.] I looked at Silas skeptically. “How do you feel about Serenity?” 4 Silas hesitated, then made a face as if he’d just sucked on a lemon. “She’s… a lot. Clumsy, loud, and she talks like she’s constantly auditioning for a Victorian tragedy. It’s exhausting.” I blinked. The feed went dead silent for three whole seconds. [What is happening? He’s supposed to think she’s a ‘delicate, resilient wildflower’!] [Is he acting? He has to be acting.] The feed had insisted Silas was hopelessly in love with Serenity, that he’d dump me publicly and call me a desperate “clingy ex.” But his current expression was one of genuine annoyance. Well, whatever. I’d deal with the future later. I leaned in and whispered a few choice instructions into Silas’s ear. When we walked back downstairs, the party was winding down. Serenity rushed over, grabbing my hand with a look of practiced guilt. “Summer, I am so, so sorry. Please, if it makes you feel better, hit me. I deserve it.” She actually picked up my hand and tried to pull it toward her own face. I didn’t miss a beat. I pulled my hand back, curled it into a fist, and delivered a sharp, stinging slap across her cheek. Serenity froze. She hadn’t expected me to actually do it. She’d planned to dodge and play the victim, but I was faster. The feed went into a hyperbolic meltdown. [OH MY GOD! The villainess actually struck our baby!] [She’s insane! Serenity was being so brave, and she just attacked her!] Casey roared, lunging forward to push me back. “Summer, what the hell is wrong with you? She apologized!” I met his gaze, my voice cold. “She literally asked me to do it. I was just being a good sister and fulfilling her wish.” Casey’s finger was inches from my nose. “Serenity was just telling us how bad she feels! She even offered to retake the year with you so you wouldn’t be alone, and this is how you treat her?” I glanced at Serenity. “Is that so? Then let’s go. We can call the school and handle your withdrawal tonight.” Serenity’s sobbing intensified. “Enough!” my father barked. He looked at Serenity with pity, then turned to me with a face like stone. “Your sister made a mistake and apologized. You, on the other hand, are being malicious. Since you clearly have no respect for this family, you will be retaking the year. That is final.” Usually, I would have screamed. I would have fought. But looking at their self-righteous faces, I just nodded calmly. If they wanted to sacrifice me at the altar of Serenity’s ego, I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of a reaction. They all looked stunned by my compliance—especially Serenity. A flash of confusion crossed her face. “Summer… you really agree? You’ll wait a year? You don’t hate me?” I shrugged. “Why not? You destroyed my letter. What choice do I have?” Serenity went quiet, a smug look carefully hidden behind her lowered lashes. The next morning, I packed a suitcase and announced I was going on a solo trip across Europe. Guilt-ridden—or perhaps just relieved to have me out of the house so they could play “Happy Family”—my parents deposited a massive amount of “fun money” into my account. I took every cent. For the next two months, I lived like a queen. I posted photos of sun-drenched Italian plazas and Greek sunsets. Meanwhile, back home, Serenity had “vowed” to get into Stanford herself. She posted photos of her late-night study sessions, her tutor bills, and her “exhaustion.” My family commented on every post, calling her “diligent” and “inspiring.” They were too busy taking care of her to bother me. In mid-July, I flew home. As I was unpacking, the housekeeper came running into the foyer, waving a priority overnight envelope. “Miss! A package from Stanford for you!” Serenity bolted from the sofa, a triumphant smirk on her face as she looked at me. “It must be my early-track decision!” My parents rushed over, beaming. “We knew you could do it, Serenity!” But when Serenity snatched the envelope and read the name on the label, her face went ghost-white. “How… how is this possible?”

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My twin sister eloped for love, and I was forced to take her name and marry Arthur Sterling. But I was already Arthur’s secretary. So, by day, Arthur was in a sharp suit, looking refined and abstinent, chewing me out with a cold face. By night, the moment he took off his tie, he was a total flirt. Insatiable and full of dirty talk, he’d bite my neck and whisper: “Wifey, your sister is such a drama queen.” “If it weren’t for you, I would have fired her ages ago.” Me: “…Haha.” Just before I reached my breaking point, my twin sister came home and demanded her place as Arthur’s wife back. Simultaneously, Arthur told me to get lost. “You’re always secretly trying to seduce me. Don’t think I haven’t noticed!” “For your sister’s sake, I’m saving your dignity. Resign on your own, and don’t ever let me see you again!” Me: “…Wow.” I scammed both of them out of a massive sum of money and decisively, fabulously made my escape. Three months later, while I was sunbathing on a beach, my sister called me crying: “Arthur absolutely refuses to touch me. Can you come back and help us have a baby, please?” “Chloe, I’m begging you, help me.” I hung up the phone, deep in thought. A flirt like Arthur, going three months without getting laid? Hasn’t he exploded from frustration yet? 1 I was Arthur’s secretary. But I was about ready to quit. Who would have thought that the cold, distant CEO during the day would be such a total flirt in bed at night? During meetings, his long fingers would tap lightly on the table, his face sharp and his aura incredibly oppressive. Yet all I could think about was him last night, wearing black silk suspenders, hooking his foot around mine, and whining sweetly, “Wifey, hurry up~” “Secretary Hayes. Secretary Hayes!” A colleague nudged me, and I finally heard Arthur calling me. I immediately apologized: “I’m sorry, Boss. I was just…” “You space out even during meetings? Am I paying you this much to just sit there and do nothing?” He looked utterly disgusted: “Do you not sleep at night? You look half-dead every day. Also, since when is it acceptable for a Vanguard Group secretary to come to work looking so untidy?” I was stunned for a second. Following his gaze, I realized he was talking about the hickey on my neck. The silk scarf hadn’t covered it. I pursed my lips and whispered, “I’m sorry, Boss. I…” “I don’t need explanations!” He glared at me coldly: “Secretary Hayes, I hope you understand that if it weren’t for your sister, you wouldn’t even deserve to keep this job!” “Tell your boyfriend to tone it down. I don’t want to see this kind of indecent display again. One more time, and you’re out!” With that, completely ignoring my mortified expression, he slammed the file onto the table, lifted his chin, and announced sharply: “Meeting adjourned!” 2 Being scolded made me feel very ashamed. But I still couldn’t muster any energy. I had only slept three hours tops last night, and my head felt like it was going to explode. I sat at my desk, zoning out in a depressed state. As lunchtime approached, I stumbled downstairs and went to the apartment next to the company building. From the closet, I dug out a demure, custom-made dress and a dazzling diamond necklace. Under the dim light, the yellow diamond was as rich as solidified amber. It was the set Arthur had bought for his wife at an auction last month. Valued in the tens of millions, it had made headlines at the time. Now, it was in my hands, being casually tapped against the table just to hear the sound. That’s right. The wife he loved to his core was me. The secretary he scolded until she questioned her life choices was also me. He thought we were twin sisters. But actually, they were both me. The “indecent” hickey he was disgusted by was exactly the one he had gnawed into my neck last night. Half a year ago, I had just started as Arthur’s secretary when my parents called me home. They told me my twin sister had eloped with her blonde-haired boyfriend and missed the arranged marriage with the Sterling family. They wanted me to marry him instead. Using my twin sister’s name. “Your sister will definitely regret this in the future. We have to leave a way out for her!” My mother cried and begged me: “Chloe, you grew up by our side, but your sister was left in the countryside. She wasn’t as lucky as you, she didn’t even pass the college entrance exams.” “Just consider it a debt you owe her. Pay her back now, okay?” She threatened me with her own life. Helpless, I had to agree. I originally thought I just needed to be a wife in name only, like many couples in our circle, being polite, living separate lives, perhaps even living in separate houses. At first, it was indeed like that. But later, Arthur seemed to be possessed, turning into an insatiable incubus. He pestered me every night. If I said no, his eyes would turn completely red, and he’d look at me with grievance. His lean, muscular legs would wrap around my waist, and he’d ask me in a husky voice: “Wifey, do you not love me anymore? Do you have another man on the side? Do you not want me anymore? I don’t want to live…” Sigh… What could I do? He kept pestering me, so I could only reluctantly oblige. At first, it was quite thrilling, but later, I just wanted to castrate him. Especially this past month, I averaged only three hours of sleep a night. Severely sleep-deprived, I made mistakes everywhere at work during the day, and got chewed out daily. This life of working the day shift and doing “overtime” at night was really killing me. I scratched my head, collapsed onto the bed in despair, and fell into a groggy sleep before I could figure out what to do. 3 An hour later, my alarm woke me up. Filled with resentment, I did my makeup, put my hair up, packed takeout into a lunchbox, and went to bring Arthur his lunch. He was in a video conference, listening to his subordinates in Europe report with a sharp look on his face. Seeing me, he waved, gesturing for me to come over and sit on his lap. “Why are you so late?” He buried his head in my neck, half-whining, half-complaining: “I thought you weren’t coming today.” The monotonous reporting voice was still playing on the computer speakers. Even though his mic and camera were off, I still felt embarrassed. I shifted uncomfortably and pushed him slightly, saying: “You’re still in a meeting, don’t do this.” “Afraid of what? We’re married, we don’t care if others see.” “Don’t you think it’s indecent?” He paused before reacting, his face instantly darkening: “Did your sister complain to you again?” “She’s just a young girl. Being scolded by you in public makes her feel awful too… Next time, don’t scold her, okay?” Arthur fell silent. After a long while, he kissed the corner of my mouth: “Wifey, I know you’re kind-hearted, but don’t you think she’s copying you in every way?” “Huh?” Arthur unmuted his mic, gestured to move the meeting to the afternoon, then turned back to me: “Even if you’re twins, you can’t be exactly the same in habits and preferences. “But, if you like pearls, she wears pearl earrings every day; if you have a lively and cheerful personality, she comes to work bouncing every day; if the end of your sentences hooks up when you speak, she does the same. It’s obviously with ulterior motives.” “You mean…” “She’s copying you to seduce me.” Arthur said with certainty: “I’ve seen plenty of women like her. They just rely on your trust in them to steal your man. “You’re just too kind, that’s why you think she’s a good person. She bullied you since you were little, and your parents favor her too. Wifey, you must be careful.” As he spoke, he rubbed my waist with his fingers. His tone was earnest and serious, acting as if he was educating his naive, sheltered wife. It felt like I was struck by lightning. “Are you sure you haven’t misunderstood?” I forced a smile: “Chloe isn’t that kind of person.” “I knew you’d say that.” Arthur sighed in disappointment: “Wifey, I am the person closest to you. Why don’t you believe me, but trust her instead?” Me: “…Haha.” I was speechless. Fortunately, Arthur didn’t dwell on the matter. He just kissed me affectionately and held me in that position while he ate. When I left, he even pulled me in for a parting kiss. When I walked out of the Vanguard Group building, exhausted, I had barely wiped the sticky feeling off my lips when I received a call from Arthur. I was met with a torrent of scolding: “Are you a child who hasn’t grown up? You get scolded and you run to complain to your sister? Also, how did you do the sales report for last month? It’s full of mistakes! If you don’t know how to do the job, pack your things and get out! Useless!” In that moment, the expression on my face uncontrollably turned feral. The next second, another call came in. I answered it, exasperated: “I said I’m heading back immediately, can you stop rushing me—” “Chloe.” A gentle, familiar voice came from the other end: “It’s your sister, I’m back.” 4 My relationship with my sister was very complicated. We were indeed twins, but we didn’t grow up together. I stayed with our parents in Capitol City where they did business, while she stayed with our grandparents in our rural hometown. Our parents always felt they owed her. After bringing her back from our hometown, they heavily favored her and always made me give way to her. Whenever something happened, it was always: “You stole your sister’s affection, this is what you owe her!” Later, my sister failed the college entrance exams and was sent abroad to study by our parents. I stayed in the country, so we weren’t very close. Therefore, hearing her speak to me in such a gentle, familiar tone, my first reaction was confusion: “Do you need something?” “Mom told me about what happened with our family and Arthur.” Hearing the impatience in my voice, she dropped the pleasantries: “Now that I’m back, shouldn’t you return the position of Mrs. Sterling to me?” “Coming back to reclaim your spot, huh! What, did that blonde guy dump you?” “Chloe, don’t push your luck!” She lowered her voice angrily: “Don’t forget, the Mrs. Sterling acknowledged by the Sterling family is only me, Mia Hastings. You’re just a fake, what right do you have to put on airs here?” That was true. Whether it was the daughter the Hastings family claimed they married off, or the wife Arthur publicly acknowledged, it was all Mia Hastings. Sometimes, when Arthur was in the mood in bed, he would also sweetly call me “Mia” or “Mia-baby.” It was absolutely disgusting. But: “I’m not going to clean up your mess for free!” “What do you mean?” “Give me ten million. Otherwise, let’s go right to Arthur and hash out who the real Mrs. Sterling is.” I said with a bright smile: “Ten million in exchange for the position of Mrs. Sterling. That’s a great deal, my dear sister.” Because of their guilt towards her, my parents stopped spending any money on me after I became an adult. They spent everything they had to support her. While I was working odd jobs everywhere to pay for my tuition, she was living it up abroad. My sense of unfairness meant I had to earn some of it back no matter what. However, no matter how much our parents spoiled her, they couldn’t possibly give her their entire life savings. Even if she could produce ten million, it would cost her dearly. So she hesitated for a long time before cautiously asking me: “Are you sure you’ll just take the money and leave?” “If you don’t believe me, forget it. I’ll go right now and…” “Don’t… I’ll give it to you!” She made up her mind: “I’ll give it to you, but you have to promise that you will never appear in front of Arthur again.” I readily agreed. Hanging up the phone, my mood improved significantly. I took off all my makeup, put on a blouse and a midi skirt, and admired my figure in the mirror. Thinking of Arthur saying I imitated and then seduced him, I remained silent for a moment before letting out a soft scoff. I thought it was ridiculous, but I also didn’t want to cause any more trouble. I swapped my pearl earrings for sapphire ones, dug out a long trench coat from my closet to completely hide my curves, and then headed out to work. 5 Mia’s intention was for me to resign and go to another city. But I wasn’t about to do that! This was my first job. I went through five rounds of interviews to get it. Resigning after only six months would look terrible on my resume. She tried repeatedly to persuade me, but to no avail. She could only give up. She took the phone number I used to contact Arthur and stayed at our parents’ house for a few days before returning to the Sterling residence. She also asked me about many details of interacting with Arthur, which I honestly told her one by one. Without having to “work overtime” at night, I had consecutive nights of long-lost good sleep. I was in a great mood, greeting my colleagues with a beaming smile and even buying them milk tea. Even when I ran into Arthur in the elevator, I could smile and say: “Good morning, Boss!” He looked anything but good. His face was pale and haggard, showing a sickly pallor. In the past, even if he tossed and turned with me all night and then got up for an international meeting, his complexion had never looked this bad. “Boss?” I asked curiously: “Are you feeling unwell?” He didn’t look at me, his tone cold and hard: “None of your business.” “…Alright then.” I worked energetically all morning. Just as I was wondering what to eat, I saw Mia carrying a lunchbox, walking gracefully to deliver lunch to Arthur. She had borrowed my gentle persona, wearing a pink Chanel-style tweed outfit, a silver butterfly hair clip on her forehead, and a gentle, moving smile. I watched her walk into Arthur’s office. She had been back at the Sterling house for a week now, and she had definitely slept with Arthur… Even though I didn’t like Arthur, the thought of something I had used now belonging to Mia still made me feel as sick as eating a fly. I rubbed my temples. Just as I was about to head downstairs to eat, I received a call from Arthur: “Bring in two cups of coffee.” Arthur had a sweet tooth but also loved the rich aroma of coffee, so the ratio of sugar to milk was very particular. I made two cups according to his taste. When I brought them into the office, I heard Mia’s sticky-sweet voice: “Hubby, hurry up and eat. I made it all myself, try it.” When she saw me, she clearly froze for a second, her expression slightly unnatural, but she quickly plastered on a smile: “Chloe, I’m eating with your brother-in-law. Why did you come in?” “To deliver coffee.” I had no desire to cause trouble. Seeing Arthur still sitting behind his desk, I placed his coffee on it, and handed the other cup to Mia, who was sitting on the sofa. She cooperatively reached out to take it, but the moment I let go, she flashed a smile. She deliberately splashed the coffee cup towards me. The scalding liquid splashed onto my exposed arm. My skin instantly turned red, swollen, and blistered. “Ah, Chloe, are you okay?!” She looked at me in a panic, her expression anxious and nervous: “How could you be so careless! I hope it doesn’t leave a scar.” She looked so guilty she was about to cry. Arthur walked over too, patting Mia’s shoulder comfortingly, speaking in a soft voice: “It’s okay, it’s not your fault… go to the hospital first, I’ll pay the medical bills.” “Hubby, you’re the best~” Mia took the opportunity to lean into Arthur’s embrace, crying pitifully: “It’s all my fault. If Chloe gets a scar because of this, I’ll feel guilty for the rest of my life.” Hiding in Arthur’s embrace, she raised an eyebrow and smiled at me provocatively. Just like in the past, countless times playing the pitiful victim in front of our parents and twisting the truth. I also smiled. I left the office. After simply treating the burn, I leaned against the elevator door and waited. When I saw Mia coming out looking elated, I crooked a finger at her. I grabbed her arm and, facing that face thickly covered in foundation, ruthlessly slapped her. “You—” Slap! Another slap on the other cheek. Her cheeks swelled up, her expression a mix of anger and fury: “H-how dare you—” “Just now in front of Arthur, I played along with your act, but I’m not going to take this abuse for nothing.” I crossed my arms and smiled at her: “Add another two million. Remember to transfer it to me tonight. From now on, when you and your husband do your roleplay, leave me out of it. Otherwise… you’d better not mess with me.” Mia covered her face, glaring at me with eyes full of hatred, but she didn’t dare speak out. She knew that if she pushed me too far, I would truly do something uncontrollable. Like three years ago, when I pushed her into the swimming pool and held her head down so she couldn’t surface. That feeling of near-death… If a servant hadn’t screamed, she would have really died. Our parents spoiled her, but I was also their biological daughter. She couldn’t possibly call the police. She could only swallow this bitter pill herself. “Just resign, Chloe.” She took a deep breath: “The world out there is so wonderful, why must you cling to your brother-in-law?” “Since you hate me and don’t want to see me, just stay far away from me. Leave this city, go far, far away. Wouldn’t that be better?” I realized almost instantly: “You’ve been whispering in Arthur’s ear?” She smiled at me provocatively, saying nothing. I took a deep breath, the veins on my forehead throbbing. This feeling of being played with was driving me crazy with anger— I shoved Mia hard. And turned around to walk into Arthur’s office. 6 Arthur was standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, staring blankly. A lit cigarette was pinched between his fingertips, the curling smoke blurring his sharp features. Hearing the door open, he turned and saw it was me. He clearly froze for a second, then frowned: “What is it?” “I know my sister told you to ask me to resign.” I said straightforwardly: “You can make me leave, but you have to give me ten million.” He seemed to want to laugh. He walked over and stubbed out his cigarette: “Based on the mistakes you’ve made recently, firing you is completely justified. What makes you think you deserve ten million from me?” I took a deep breath. Then I smiled. I walked up to him, gently wrapped my arms around his neck, stood on my tiptoes, leaned in close to his ear, and said, word by word: “Based on the fact that you have feelings for me, brother-in-law.” He instinctively tried to push me away, but I clung to him tightly. His whole body went rigid as he lowered his voice to scold me: “Chloe Hastings—” “You have feelings for me, so seeing me annoys you. You scold me three times as much as the other secretaries, but you’re also afraid of wronging my sister, so you desperately want me to leave. Brother-in-law, am I right or wrong?” Because he paid extra attention to me, he noticed the hickey on my neck. Because he couldn’t betray his family, he had to fire me. Because seeing me caused emotional turmoil, he often scolded me out of frustration, hoping I would gracefully bow out. Arthur, was it me seducing you, or was it that you couldn’t control your own heart? I buried my head in his chest, acting spoiled: “Brother-in-law, that coffee was so hot. I got huge blisters, my arm hurts so much!” He closed his eyes: “Get up first, I’ll take you to the hospital.” “No~ Brother-in-law, kiss me, okay? It hurts so much~” His heartbeat faltered for a second. Then he forcefully pushed me away. He pushed me so hard I stumbled and fell onto the hard marble floor, my elbow hitting it hard enough to ache. “You can’t do this.” He pinched the bridge of his nose: “Ten million, I will give it to you. But as an elder, I must remind you: a person should have morals, not act like a promiscuous animal.” I laughed. I just sat there on the floor, propping up one leg, hugging my arms. With the posture of a victor, I looked at him triumphantly: “Brother-in-law, your heartbeat faltered. That means you love me.” “No, I don’t. I just think you and your sister look very similar…” He sighed heavily: “Forget it. It’s a good thing you’re leaving.” He sat back down behind his desk and instructed someone to transfer the money to me. Seeing my arrogant, rampant attitude, he tried to hold back, but ultimately couldn’t: “Take the money and do something proper with your life. You have a good foundation and a good education. Even if your heart isn’t in your career, don’t resort to those dirty tricks.” Dirty tricks? I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. Arthur, if you knew that the “sister” wife you thought you had was actually the “sister,” and the “sister” you agonized over having forbidden feelings for was actually your wife, but then your wife was swapped for the “sister,” would you go crazy? Bagging twin sisters in one go might make another man proud, but a man like Arthur, with responsibility carved into his bones… haha. “Brother-in-law, I wish you and my sister a century of harmony and an early birth of a precious child!” I said to him with a beaming smile: “I believe your future life will definitely be very exciting.”

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I came back from a business trip and had a wild night with my boyfriend. But when it was over, I suddenly realized: he was in his usual spot in the bed. I grabbed him and scrutinized the details to see if he was cheating. The next second, he covered my eyes, trembling: “M-Maya… I can’t go another round today…” 1 I froze. He looked up at me, pitiful. “I have a basketball game tonight. If we go again, my legs are really going to turn to jelly…” I sat up like a corpse springing back to life. I suddenly realized the man next to me might actually be my boyfriend’s younger brother! He was still a college student who hadn’t even graduated yet! I knew something was off when I came back! My boyfriend’s build looked slightly different! A fine layer of cold sweat broke out all over my body. I yanked the covers over myself and screamed: “Why is it you?! Why are you in my apartment?!” The air… went completely silent. The young man’s eyelashes fluttered nervously. He stared at me, his voice hoarse and full of disbelief. “What… what do you mean? So just now, when you were so happy… you didn’t know who you were with?” He looked so wronged and hurt. It made the excuse of “face blindness” get stuck right in my throat. I took a deep breath. Trying hard to stabilize my emotions, I asked another question: “Where is your brother? Why isn’t he home?” Noah looked down. “My college game was nearby, and the schedule was tight. All the hotels were booked, so I could only crash at his place… He was afraid of waking me up, so he stayed overnight at his office. We didn’t know… you were coming back so suddenly…” His voice trailed off. Coupled with his expression, he looked even more innocent. Unacceptable! So he’s innocent, and this is entirely my fault?! I gritted my teeth and kept interrogating him: “Then why didn’t you explain who you were before you took your clothes off?!” Noah looked even more dejected. “You kissed me the second you walked in. When did I have a chance to explain…” “I know you’re afraid my brother will find out about us. I won’t tell him…” “Everything that happened today… I’ll just treat it like a dream…” As he spoke. He put his clothes back on, diligently stripped the bed, and smoothed out every single wrinkle, erasing all the evidence. Everything was playing out exactly according to the best-case scenario I had envisioned. It was so perfect I actually felt like I was the villain… Finally, when he was hand-washing my thong in the sink, I couldn’t hold back anymore: “Just give that to me…” As I walked over, he flinched like he’d been burned. He looked at me with red-rimmed eyes. “I got it dirty…” Damn it! I really am a monster! 2 My phone buzzed. It was a voice message from my boyfriend, Liam. I wanted to play it, but seeing Noah’s wet, puppy-dog eyes, I suddenly felt guilty. I hit the speech-to-text button. [Baby, when are you coming back? I learned a new recipe recently!] [Miss you, miss you /emoji] One of the main reasons I got together with Liam in the first place was that he knew how to cook. He was the only one who could satisfy my stomach, which was completely sick of takeout. I couldn’t help but smile. Noah floated over beside me like a ghost. “That new recipe my brother learned? I taught it to him.” Huh? I looked up, but Noah had already pulled open the fridge, desperate to prove himself. “I didn’t use up all the ingredients I bought yesterday. If you don’t believe me, I’ll make it for you right now.” As he spoke. He stripped off his shirt in three swift motions and threw on his brother’s apron. Why are you taking your shirt off to cook?! I followed him into the kitchen. Noah was already swiftly slicing, washing, and stir-frying like a pro. The apron straps perfectly covered his nipples. I could only catch a glimpse of them when he made large movements… I couldn’t help but panic. “It’s covered, it’s covered. Hey! Stop it! Why are you cooking right now?!” While I was talking. He had already plated the dish. He looked at me, full of expectation: “Maya… do you want to try a bite?” Try… what exactly? A buff, buzz-cut stud, and he’s in his prime college years. At a time like this, what kind of modern-day saint could resist?! There were two little people fighting in my head. One said, “Hurry up and taste it!” The other was violently choking me, “It’s not like you haven’t tasted it already! Doesn’t knowing who it really is make it even more thrilling?! Hurry the hell up and taste it!” Noah put the plate down. He stepped closer to me, step by step, looking down at me. “Maya, why aren’t you saying anything?” An inexplicable tension bounced around the room. I stammered, “You can… you can just call me Maya…” His footsteps stopped. His expression darkened: “You mean, when?” Well, that time, obviously— Before I could get the words out. The sound of the front door unlocking clicked loudly. My scalp went numb. The next second, a surprised voice came from the doorway, “A suitcase? Hmm? Baby, are you back?” 3 Six eyes met. The air was dead silent. Cold sweat poured down the back of my neck. I wanted to say something to explain this mess. But my quick wit suddenly completely failed me! Until Noah casually spoke up, “Oh, Liam, you’re back too.” “Maya just got in. Just in time for me to finish cooking.” Phew. I let out a massive sigh of relief. Liam took off his shoes and picked me up in a pleasantly surprised hug. “Baby, why didn’t you tell me you were coming back early? You didn’t even reply to my messages!” He spun me around twice. My energy was completely drained; I felt dizzy and lightheaded. Thankfully, Noah called a stop to it. “Liam, let’s eat.” His voice was cool and clear. He turned around, revealing his bare back. Liam frowned. “Noah? Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?” Noah stopped in his tracks. I started anxiously twisting my fingers together… “I washed it.” He dropped that single sentence and went back to busying himself in the kitchen. Thank God! There actually were clothes Noah had just washed out on the balcony! Wait. Crap! My toes curled up in sheer panic. My freshly washed thong was also out on the balcony. If Liam saw it…! I grabbed Liam and kissed him hard. He was stunned by my sudden aggressiveness. But he quickly reacted, responding passionately. In the blink of an eye, his voice went husky. “Baby, hold on. Noah is still here…” 4 Crash— In the kitchen doorway, porcelain shattered. Noah stood there, his eyes instantly turning red. Liam and I immediately separated. Liam coughed awkwardly. “Your sister-in-law and I haven’t seen each other in a long time. We couldn’t help ourselves. Just pretend you didn’t see anything.” The young man’s lips trembled slightly. “Couldn’t help yourselves, huh…” Liam didn’t catch it. “What?” Noah stopped talking. He silently cleaned up the mess on the floor. From my angle, I could only see his lonely, dejected back… The food looked and smelled amazing. But I couldn’t taste a thing. My entire focus was concentrated on my right leg, which was constantly rubbing against the leg next to me. I knew that wasn’t Liam, because Liam was sitting on my left… The dinner table was completely silent. Until Noah picked up a piece of green pepper and dropped it into Liam’s bowl. “Liam, eat your vegetables.” Then, he picked up a glistening piece of sweet and sour ribs and dropped it into my bowl. Liam’s expression froze… I burst into a violent coughing fit. Liam looked at me. “Baby, I’ll go get you some water.” Yes! Anything to end this suffocating atmosphere! I nodded frantically. As Liam walked away, I finally let out a long breath. I glared at Noah. “What are you doing?!” He acted like he didn’t hear me. He elegantly chewed a grain of rice, glanced at me, and said slowly: “Maya, Liam’s fridge is out on the balcony.” The thong! In a flash of lightning! I felt like I had been struck by a thunderbolt! I jumped up and sprinted toward the balcony. Liam already had the water. His expression was normal. “What’s wrong, baby?” I gulped hard. But then I noticed his lips were slightly pale. “Were you that impatient to drink water…” 5 Sitting on pins and needles. That was the truest description of my current emotional state! Liam didn’t ask anything, but a guilty conscience makes it hard to sit still. I was terrified he was saving up his questions. Just waiting for Noah to leave so he could draw his sword on me when we were alone! The feeling of impending doom was agonizing! While I was squirming in my seat, Liam looked up. His voice was cold: “You need to leave today.” He was talking to his brother! The two men locked eyes. For a moment, even the dog barking next door went silent… My soul left my body. When I snapped back to reality, Noah was already rolling his suitcase to the door. He stopped at the doorway and looked at me: “Maya, see you next time…” The door clicked shut. Only Liam and I were left in the apartment. It was the most normal scenario, yet I instinctively looked away. He grabbed my wrist. I looked up. I saw that Liam’s eyes were already red. “Maya, you have no idea… how much I missed you these past few days…” The guilt almost drowned me. I took a deep breath. I was going to confess everything to him! But Liam sealed my lips before I could. He kissed me with a desperate devotion. Something wet dripped onto my face… This time. He was incredibly passionate. The world, rising and falling, brings people joy, but also confusion. In my hazy, dizzy state. I heard Liam murmur: “Baby… does he make you feel better than I do?” Instantly, my eyes shot wide open! “What did you say?!” Another storm of passion hit. Liam focused entirely on the physical, not saying another word, as if what I just heard was a hallucination. He knew my body too well. A few movements later. My thoughts drifted away with him again. When it was over, I was completely drained, just overwhelmingly exhausted. In my half-asleep state, it sounded like someone was telling a bedtime story. A husky voice, thick with a nasal tone: “The year Noah was born, I was four… “He seemed to be born with a better knack for making the adults happy. I couldn’t help but be jealous of him… So I stole everything he had since we were kids. Until his 18th birthday. My parents and I went on a trip, and he called to complain… “I thought he was just fighting for attention again, so I secretly turned off my parents’ phones. We only found out when we got back from the trip that Noah had acute pancreatitis. No one was there to take care of him, and he almost died at home… “I swore to him then that as long as it was something he liked, whatever he wanted, I would never fight him for it again. But Maya… why did it have to be you…” 6 When I woke up again, the apartment was spotless. Yesterday’s leftovers, even my luggage, everything was neatly organized. Liam was always like this. Silently doing things in the background. I picked up my phone. Someone had added me on Snapchat at some point. [Maya, my game tonight. Are you coming?] [If you come, I’ll be really happy.] It was obvious who it was. Noah and I had already made a mistake once… Looking around the clean, tidy apartment, I decided to cut things off with Noah completely! After that… I’d beg Liam for forgiveness. Mind made up, I called him on the app. He picked up instantly. “Maya?” His voice pitched up at the end; he sounded really happy. I stayed silent for a moment, then spoke: “After this, let’s delete each other. Let’s not contact each other privately anymore.” The call went dead silent. A moment later, a loud crashing sound erupted. Someone on the other end yelled in panic: “Noah! Noah! Quick, call an ambulance!” My heart violently clenched. “Noah, what happened to you?!” 7 The other end of the line was in total chaos. Not long after, someone hung up the phone. Something happened to Noah. That realization threw me into a panic again. I tried to call back, but no one answered. It couldn’t be because of my phone call, right? I was a nervous wreck the entire day. Until Liam came to pick me up after work. “I have to go to the hospital. I’ll drop you off at home and then head over.” The hospital?! My heart hammered against my ribs. “Who got hurt?!” Liam glanced at me: “How did you know it was an injury and not an illness?” My breathing hitched. I wanted to explain but didn’t know where to start. The light turned green. Liam started the car again. After a long, long time, he asked in a muffled voice: “It’s my brother who got hurt. Do you… want to go?” It really was Noah who got hurt! Because of my phone call! I gripped my seatbelt tightly. I didn’t even notice my voice cracking. “I have to go. Liam, take me with you!” 8 Noah really did get hurt because of me! They said Noah was on the phone, and they didn’t know why, but his expression suddenly looked awful. When the basketball came flying down, he didn’t dodge it. He fell right on the bleachers and hit his head, bleeding immediately. He still hadn’t woken up! The other guys on the basketball team were also anxious. “Noah never even has girls around him normally. But this afternoon, for some reason, he suddenly got a call from a girl!” “Otherwise, with his reflexes, he definitely would have dodged it!” In the hospital corridor. No one said another word. Liam’s expression was heavy. It was completely impossible to guess what he was thinking. I stood rooted to the spot. I couldn’t even describe what I was feeling. All I knew was that Noah was lying there entirely because of me… One mistake after another. I shuffled over to Liam. All sorts of thoughts were warring in my head. Right now, it seemed the only option was to confess. Whether it was the older brother or the younger brother, this tragedy was entirely my fault… I wrung my hands. “Liam…” He looked up. There was a raw emotion in his eyes, and he was trembling slightly. “Don’t say it.” His voice was hoarse. His fists, resting on his legs, were clenched so tight the veins bulged. “I don’t want to hear it right now…” A dull ache throbbed in my chest. I had no idea how to clean up this mess. The door to the hospital room was suddenly pushed open. The nurse said the patient was awake. Noah’s head was wrapped in bandages. From far across the room, the first person he looked at was me. “Maya, I’m dizzy.” 9 Noah suffered a concussion from the fall. Besides dizziness, he also had bouts of nausea. When Liam was ordering food, Noah dry-heaved until physiological tears ran down his face. “Liam, I want home-cooked food.” Liam put his phone away. He gave me a fleeting glance. “Then your sister-in-law and I will go back, make some food, and run it over to you.” “Liam!” Noah raised his voice and sat up abruptly. The next second, he started gagging and feeling nauseous again. I couldn’t help but pat his back. I looked at Liam. “Why don’t you stay here with him? I’ll go back, make some food, and bring it over…” After all. Noah’s injury had everything to do with me. Liam pressed his lips tightly together. He didn’t say anything, but the patient started groaning. Noah held his forehead, saying the room was spinning. Finally, he looked at me pitifully and asked: “Maya, can my current physical condition handle your ‘creative’ cooking?” “Your sister-in-law can’t stay here with you!” Before I could even react, Liam suddenly stood up. Noah blinked. His voice was soft: “Then I guess… I’ll just be hospitalized alone…” Liam’s body went rigid. He looked at me. The rims of his eyes were flushed pink. “Maya, you stay at the hospital with Noah for now… I’ll be back as soon as I can…” He walked away unsteadily, his footsteps rushed. “Maya~” Noah called me, his voice full of grievance. “Look at me.” I slowly turned my head, looking at the pitiful man on the hospital bed. “You did that on purpose.” My voice was certain. “You got hurt on purpose. You acted pitiful on purpose. You drove your brother away on purpose.” “Noah, your brother is already miserable enough!” “Why did you have to do this?!”

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I had been with Rowan Hayes for six years. When I got up to use the bathroom in the middle of the night, I heard an argument outside the bedroom door. But it was just the two of us in the apartment. Who was Rowan talking to? I peeked through the crack in the door, only to see… two Rowans? “Bro, you’ve had Lily to yourself all week. It’s my turn today.” I slumped to the floor in absolute terror, my mind a chaotic mess. The door suddenly swung open. The two impossibly handsome men stood there, both wearing identical expressions of faint regret. “Busted…” “Well then, Lily. Guess which one is Rowan?” My lips trembled, but I couldn’t form a single word. Damn it all to hell, I have face blindness! 01 They took a step closer, their tall, broad figures casting a shadow that completely engulfed me. One of the “Rowans” crouched down to my eye level, his attractive, fox-like eyes narrowing into a smile. “Lily, guess which one is Rowan?” My lips quivered, but nothing came out. Taking my reaction exactly as expected, his smile deepened. “Oh, I forgot. Our Lily has face blindness.” … I first met Rowan Hayes during my sophomore year of high school. He went to a different school and was two grades above me. I was top of my class in STEM, but compared to him, I was leagues behind. Our teachers eventually paired us up for the State Math Olympiad. Rowan was a guy of incredibly few words. During the training camp, unless I was actively asking him a question, he treated his words like they cost a hundred bucks each. But I never got tired of it. I followed him around every single day, pestering him with questions. Are you kidding? He was ranked first in the state. If I didn’t cling to his coattails now, when would I? It got to the point where Rowan would just sigh, reach out, and take my textbook the moment he saw me running over. “Which one are you stuck on?” After we won the championship, I asked Rowan what college he was aiming for. Rowan looked down at me, probably thinking to himself that he’d accidentally adopted a clingy kitten. “Stanford.” It felt miles out of my reach, but the word buried itself in my heart like a seed. “Then wait for me. I’ll definitely get in.” After spending two months together, Rowan knew exactly what I was capable of. He gave a soft “Hmm,” and then he smiled. His usually cold, handsome face softened instantly. “I’ll wait for you.” Two years later, during freshman orientation, I saw him again. He was standing on stage, giving a speech as the student representative. I waved at him. A flash of surprise crossed his eyes, but he quickly lowered his gaze and focused on reading his script. I figured Rowan was just shy. From then on, whenever I ran into him on campus, I’d enthusiastically greet him, never getting tired of it. As time went on, Rowan went from just giving me a polite nod to actually smiling back. Sometimes, when he smiled, the California sun would outline his sharp jawline in a soft golden halo. It made everything else pale in comparison. It felt exactly like that afternoon two years ago. That hidden seed was finally breaking through the soil. I started asking Rowan to go to the library to study. Honestly, Rowan didn’t need to study. He basically memorized things on the first read. Mostly, it was just me burying my head in endless calculus problems, and Rowan naturally becoming my unpaid private tutor. In return, I’d treat him to dinner. Even though Rowan was nearly six-foot-three, he didn’t eat that much. I, on the other hand, at five-foot-six, ate like a feral hog released from a pen. I couldn’t help but complain, “Rowan, do you work out a lot?” He looked down at me, thought for a second, and gave a soft “Hmm.” “No wonder your body looks like that.” Rowan gave me a weird look. “You haven’t even…” Then he seemed to remember something, his face flushed bright red, and he clammed up. I remember one time we were walking back from the library when a sudden torrential downpour hit. The street was empty, and there was nowhere to take cover. Rowan and I sprinted to a small park gazebo. I was wearing a white chiffon blouse that day. Rowan was brushing the rain off his shoulders, but when he turned to look at me, his gaze snapped away like he’d been burned. I was panting heavily, my pale face flushed pink from the sprint. A few strands of wet hair were plastered to my cheeks. He frantically stripped off his jacket and, ignoring my protests, forced it over my shoulders. Raindrops dripped from his wet hair, sliding down his cheek, tracing his neck, and soaking his white t-shirt. The defined ridges of his abs were faintly visible through the wet fabric. It took every ounce of my willpower to look away. In the end, neither of us dared to look at the other. We just sat there in awkward silence for two hours, waiting for the rain to stop. But the distance between us had definitely shrunk. My roommate, Chloe, couldn’t stop teasing me. “Girl, I told you! With that kind of crazy persistence, you could conquer the world.” I giggled like an idiot. “Chloe, do you think he’d say yes if I asked him out on a real date?” A weird silence filled the room. “…I’m Chloe’s sister, actually…” “…Oh.” Damn it. I really hate my face blindness. For the next few weeks, I constantly brought cream puffs and little pastries to Rowan. But Rowan didn’t have a sweet tooth. He’d take one tiny bite at most. Over time, Rowan quietly memorized all my favorite flavors, and eventually, he was the one bringing the desserts. But mostly, he just sat there quietly, watching me stuff my cheeks like a chipmunk. Rowan felt like he was raising a soft, fluffy kitten. Proud, cute, and completely food-motivated. Gradually, I started to feel like Rowan and I were just one step away from making it official. So the next day, I ordered a bouquet of red roses. When I came back with the flowers, I saw Rowan hugging another girl. His back was to me. The girl was petite, practically buried in his chest. I froze in the doorway. Rowan turned his head and clearly saw me. He frowned, his eyes dropping to the roses in my arms. He looked completely stunned. I didn’t wait for his reaction. I spun on my heel and bolted down the hall as fast as my legs could carry me. God, why do you have to play me like this? 02 When I got back to the dorm, I burst into loud, ugly sobs. Chloe clenched her fists in righteous fury. “I knew he was trash!” I sniffled. “But I haven’t even told him how I feel yet.” “Say no more, bestie. I know exactly what this is. As a veteran of the dating trenches, you’re suffering from a broken heart.” I cried even harder. I laid my heart bare, and he stomped on it. Chloe couldn’t take it anymore. She yanked me off the bed. She squished my tear-stained cheeks, looking disgusted. “Stop crying, girl. Your face is wrinkling up like a raisin.” “Come on, get dressed. We’re going out to party.” Before I knew what was happening, Chloe had dragged me to a VIP lounge and shoved me onto a leather couch between two six-foot guys with shredded abs. One was shirtless, wearing some kind of leather harness that pressed against his chest and arms, leaving faint pink marks on his skin. The other was wearing fluffy black fox ears and gold-rimmed glasses, smiling at me with devastatingly handsome features. They kept calling me “pretty lady.” My scalp tingled, my entire body went rigid, and I didn’t dare relax for a single second. Chloe started organizing drinking games. After three rounds, my head was spinning, and I passed out against her shoulder. When I woke up, I heard Chloe arguing with someone. I rubbed my eyes and groggily saw Rowan… and two girls? My head was pounding. I held my temples and sat up. What was this? Was he afraid I’d keep pestering him, so he brought his girlfriend to warn me off? I bravely raised my hand and pointed a shaky finger at Rowan. Chloe gently adjusted my arm so I was actually pointing at him. “He’s over there.” “Even though I… I like you… since you have a girlfriend, I won’t bother you anymore! Waaah…” I was doing so well, but my tear ducts betrayed me. My lip quivered, and I started wailing all over again. The girl standing next to him immediately panicked and waved her hands. “Hey, pretty girl, you’ve got it all wrong! Here’s what actually happened this afternoon…” She explained that she had been sitting down for too long, and when she stood up, her low blood sugar hit. Her vision went black, and she collapsed. Rowan just happened to catch her. After she finished explaining, she even pulled out a piece of paper. “Rowan knew you misunderstood, so he dragged me to the campus clinic to get a doctor’s note to prove I passed out.” I looked at Rowan. He was standing there, the tips of his ears bright red, looking like a little kid who’d been caught doing something wrong. Chloe, staying completely in character, rolled her eyes at him, grabbed the club promoters, and moved to another booth to give us privacy. The girl quietly slipped away too. Rowan and I sat side-by-side. At this point, I don’t know where I found the liquid courage, but I grabbed the cup in front of me and took a massive gulp. Except I grabbed the wrong cup. I grabbed Chloe’s. It was a lethal concoction of vodka, tequila, and beer. Completely unaware of the danger, I turned to Rowan. “I like you.” Rowan nodded. “I know. Aren’t we already dating?” My brain started to deep-fry. “Since when?” “Didn’t you accept my flowers this afternoon?” “Huh?” I opened my phone and saw several missed calls and a text from a delivery driver. It was a picture of a bouquet of roses left on the porch of my dorm. “You ordered flowers too?” Rowan immediately spotted the issue. We stared at each other for a second, then both burst out laughing. I pouted playfully, mumbling, “You still owe me fresh flowers.” “I already bought some on the way here.” 03 “Lily?” The familiar voice pulled me back to reality. “There’s a punishment for guessing wrong, you know.” I looked up at the two identical men standing in front of me, a cold sweat breaking out on my forehead. Their clothes, their eyes, their hair, even their exact height—completely identical. One of them crouched down, meeting my eyes. His warm thumb gently stroked my cheek. The deep affection and tenderness in his eyes felt like a net, trapping me completely. The other one just stood there. The shadow of his hair hid his expression, but I could tell he was smiling. “Lily’s spacing out like this… Doesn’t it look exactly like when she’s sleepwalking?” A lightbulb went off in my head. I do have a history of sleepwalking! I immediately let my eyes unfocus, staring blankly ahead, pretending I couldn’t see the person right in front of me. My gaze passed right through them. “Looks like she really is sleepwalking.” A regretful, amused voice spoke. The one standing up turned to leave. Halfway to the door, he stopped and said, “Rhys, make sure you turn the heat up. Lily gets cold easily.” “I know.” Rhys scooped me up into his arms. I kept my face entirely blank until he gently laid me down on the mattress. I kept my breathing perfectly even. Rhys leaned over, pressing his forehead against mine to check my temperature. “Why is she always so cold?” He shifted, wrapped his arm around me, and pulled me flush against him. I didn’t dare move a muscle, staying curled up in the crook of his arm. His bare, muscular chest was pressed tightly against me. Rhys held me, his other hand absentmindedly stroking down my back, from my neck to my spine. Like he was petting a cat. The familiar, warm scent wrapped around me, and I instantly relaxed, stifling a silent yawn. Whenever I was stressed, “Rowan” used to comfort me exactly like this. I was so used to this dynamic that once the tension left my body, a wave of exhaustion hit me. As I drifted off to sleep, Rhys opened his tightly shut eyes. There wasn’t an ounce of sleepiness in them. 04 I should have realized it. I actually met Rhys the very first time I visited Rowan’s apartment. Rowan had gone overseas for a competition and won. To celebrate, I bought a gift and rushed over to his place the day he got back. I dropped the bags, threw my arms around him, and buried my face in his chest, mumbling, “I thought you weren’t coming back until the day after tomorrow?” “Rowan” tilted my head up, kissed my lips, and gave a warm, gentle smile. “Because I missed you.” It was a simple, honest, and passionate confession. He started cooking dinner. The soft kitchen lights hit his perfect side profile, and I practically drooled. You have to understand, I’ve been chronically single my entire life. He looked like an absolute snack. So, I hugged him from behind, my hands starting to wander. A deep flush spread across his face, making him look like a shy, blushing bride. My hands roamed over his abs, poking and squeezing. “L-Lily, don’t…” “I’m just checking to see if you kept up with your workouts while you were in Europe.” Feeling mischievous, my hand slipped slightly lower and gave a firm squeeze. I nodded in absolute satisfaction. Yep, perfectly toned. He swallowed hard, letting out a low, muffled groan. The veins on the arm holding the spatula bulged against his skin. He looked like he was battling restraint, agony, and pure desire all at once. Realizing I might have played with fire, I tried to make a break for it. Without even turning around, he pinned me with one arm, pulling me back and trapping me completely against his body. My legs were locked against his, our bodies pressed flush together. I could literally feel something burning hot standing at attention, saying a very friendly hello. I froze, terrified to move. He lowered his head, resting his chin on my shoulder. “You need to focus when you’re cooking.” His hot breath tickled my ear, making me shrink my neck. He pressed a soft kiss to the tip of my ear. “Don’t get distracted. You have to make sure both sides get cooked.” He won. I couldn’t out-flirt him, and I ultimately fled the kitchen in defeat. His low, rumbling laughter echoed behind me, making my face burn even hotter. 05 During dinner, he opened a bottle of wine. I chattered away, telling him all about my week. His gaze was soft as water as he watched me. The pure affection in his eyes was completely unguarded. My throat got dry from talking, so I grabbed my glass and downed it in one go. It was a sweet, rich wine, not harsh at all. I smacked my lips. He slowly, elegantly took tiny sips from his own glass. Propping up my dizzy head, I looked at his barely touched plate and frowned in confusion. “Rowan, aren’t you gonna eat?” His eyes sparkled with amusement as he looked at me adoringly, casually replying, “I’ll eat later.” Eat later? Was he planning on having a midnight snack? I groggily picked up my phone. It was 10:30 PM. If I didn’t leave now, I’d miss dorm curfew. I sprang up from the chair, then instantly tipped over. Luckily, he had quick reflexes and caught me by the waist. My vision was blurry. Were the lights always this dim in his living room? My mind was floating, my hands instinctively resting against his solid chest. “Lily?” “Mmhmm?” I hummed softly, looking up at his worried expression and those… incredibly kissable pink lips. They looked so soft. I reached up and touched them. In the dim light, I couldn’t see how dark his eyes had gotten, completely clouded with desire. I could only feel the arm around my waist tightening like a vise. I let out a soft whine, the sound coming out far more delicate and seductive than I intended. That little sound acted like a blade, instantly severing the last string of his self-control. He scooped me into his arms and carried me to the sofa. I clung to him, my body feeling like it had melted into jelly. A torrential storm of kisses rained down on me, catching me completely off guard. I tried to push him back gently, but he caught my hand and pressed a burning kiss to my palm. A shiver wrecked through my body, making my head spin even more. “Rowan.” “Yeah?” “I love you…” “I love you too.” The rest of my words were swallowed up in a kiss overflowing with emotion. He gently but firmly claimed every inch of me. I slowly melted into a puddle. Like a small boat caught in a rising tide, I was tossed to the highest peaks of the waves, only to crash back down. When we finally reached the shore, the little boat had nothing left to give, simply drifting with the current. I clung tightly to his back, crying and begging for mercy. He kissed away my tears, slowing his pace. “Lily, the night is still young.” 06 I have no idea when I fell asleep, but when I woke up, the bed was empty. There was only a sticky note on the nightstand. Lily, I had to run to campus to meet with my advisor. Breakfast is on the table, make sure you eat it. Love you. He’d even drawn a little cartoon dog at the bottom. I couldn’t help but smile. After I washed up and went downstairs, I was halfway through breakfast when the front door opened. I happily ran over and threw my arms around him in a massive hug. Then I grabbed his collar, pulled him down, and planted a huge smooch on his lips. He covered his mouth, a look of pure shock flashing across his eyes. I didn’t notice a thing. I just dragged him to the table, complaining about how intensely we had “battled” last night, completely oblivious to the fact that this wasn’t Rowan. He raised an eyebrow. His dark, ink-black eyes filled with a mix of curiosity and suspicion as he looked at me. After a long pause, a smile finally broke across his face. It was a faint, teasing smirk, playful and a little wicked. The corners of his eyes lifted, and a dangerous glint appeared in his gaze. He reached out, pinched my cheek, and leaned in intimately, practically purring, “Want to go out and do something fun today?” His voice was a magnetic, smooth baritone, with a slight lilt at the end of his sentences. Like a cat flicking the tip of its tail to draw you in. I had never seen “Rowan” act like this. It was pure, intoxicating seduction. As we were heading out, I asked him why his advisor needed to see him. “Probably something about a competition,” he said nonchalantly. I stopped in my tracks and gave him a suspicious look. Realizing he had slipped up, he quickly backtracked, saying his advisor just needed him to fill out some forms for the next project proposal. I linked my arm through his, praising him without a second thought. “I knew my boyfriend was a genius.” “Come on, I’m taking you to the amusement park.” Because I didn’t look up, I completely missed his bright red ears and the guilty, panicked look in his eyes. He looked exactly like a Golden Retriever that had just chewed up your favorite shoes. 07 Tired from walking, we sat down on a bench. He told me to rest while he went to buy some water. I watched his back as he walked away. I felt like “Rowan” was unusually energetic today. Was it just because we were out having fun? I reached into my pocket for my phone, only to realize he had tossed it into his backpack before we left the apartment. 08 “Two bottles of water, please.” Inside Rhys’s pocket, the phone was buzzing non-stop. Looking visibly annoyed, Rhys pulled out the phone encased in a black cat phone case. He tentatively typed in his own birthday. Sure enough, it unlocked effortlessly. The lock screen was a photo of Lily and his brother. Rowan was looking down, his eyes filled with gentle affection for the girl in his arms. Rhys couldn’t explain the feeling in his chest, but it felt suffocating. If anyone had the right to claim her, he had met her before his brother ever did. When he opened her messages, the contact name “6’3, Abs, Capricorn” practically leaped off the screen. Rhys couldn’t help but laugh out loud. Who names their boyfriend that in their phone? [Lily, why aren’t you at the apartment?] [Did you go back to campus?] [My little brother got back yesterday. Do you want to meet him?] [Baby, why aren’t you answering me?] (Cartoon dog sticker) Rhys subconsciously touched his own lips, thinking about the kiss from that morning… Holding a cigarette between his lips, a wicked smile spread through the haze of smoke. With his long fingers, he swiped left on his brother’s messages and hit “Delete.” 09 He handed me the open bottle of water. I immediately caught the scent of tobacco. “Since when do you smoke?” He smoothly spat out a piece of gum, looking completely innocent. “The guy at the concession stand was smoking. I must have caught the smell standing there.” I nodded, then patted the empty space on the bench next to me, motioning for him to sit closer. He hesitated for a second before sliding over. I lifted my wrist and started rubbing it against the skin just behind his ear. He froze, his entire body going rigid. Even the tips of his ears flushed a soft pink. It was adorable. I couldn’t resist pinching his earlobe. At the feeling of skin rubbing against skin, he shivered. He leaned back slightly in shock, his chest rising and falling much faster than before. “Wh-What are you doing?” his voice wavered. I hooked my arm around his neck and pulled him back. He looked down, I looked up, and our eyes locked. His long eyelashes cast a shadow over his flawlessly sharp features, looking like a painting bathed in sunlight. My heart skipped a beat. I swallowed nervously and stammered, “I put on perfume before we left… I was just, um, sharing some with you.” I panicked, broke eye contact, and tried to yank my hand back. The moment I pulled away, he grabbed my wrist and pressed a quick kiss to it. I tried to pull free again, but he just gripped me tighter. He raised an eyebrow, a wicked, amused smile playing on his lips, and leaned in… I slapped a hand over his mouth, my face burning. “Not until tonight.” He frowned, his eyes darkening with an unreadable emotion. Tonight? He wasn’t going to be the one kissing her tonight… He pinned my hands with one arm and crashed his lips onto mine. Suddenly, the phone in his pocket started ringing. It was my ringtone. I pushed against his chest, mumbling incoherently against his lips, “My… my phone… mmph…” His gaze darkened completely. Keeping me pinned, he pulled out the phone and glanced at the screen. Caller ID: [Hubby]. He unceremoniously hit decline. “Spam call.” He cupped the back of my head and deepened the kiss. Afterward, I buried my face in my hands, curled up in his chest, blushing like a boiled lobster. Honestly, if I had just gone back to the apartment with him, I would have realized there was another Rowan waiting for me at home. But the university called an emergency meeting for my major, so I had to head straight back to campus. He saved his phone number in my phone, claiming it was just his secondary work line. After that, it felt like Rowan was spending way more time with me. One day he’d be out of state for an academic conference. The very next day, he’d miraculously appear right by my side to take me out. He took me to restaurants I had casually mentioned liking. Sometimes, though, his memory seemed a little spotty. We’d end up going to the same places twice. I just assumed it was because he really liked the food there, so I never questioned it. Our relationship only got better as the years went on. Until graduation day, our three-year anniversary. “Rowan” proposed to me. With a sparkling gold ring. He hugged me tightly, whispering, “Happy Graduation.” I grinned from ear to ear and hugged him back fiercely. “I love you, Rowan.” I felt his body stiffen slightly. Rowan? Guess it was time to put his cards on the table. He buried his face in my neck and kissed me, hard.

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I had been with Liam Vance for four years, but our intimate life was always a disaster. He constantly complained that I lacked experience and made it incredibly uncomfortable for him. Desperate to please him, I bought a massive box of adult toys online, intending to practice by myself. But then, I accidentally overheard a conversation between him and a friend. “Liam, you literally hired someone to hit Mia with a car, putting her in the ICU, and then bribed the doctor to surgically sever her vocal cords so she could never sing again. Do you really not feel a single shred of guilt?” “Guilt? Why would I feel guilty that she sounds like a dying pig now?” “For the past four years, I’ve been so disgusted I haven’t even wanted to sleep with her. Every time we do, I intentionally make it as painful as possible for her.” “And guess what? She actually thinks it’s her fault! She just bought a massive box of toys online to ‘practice’!” Liam laughed cruelly as he dumped the box of toys I had bought onto the table, sparking an eruption of mocking laughter from the room. I stood frozen outside the door, my body trembling uncontrollably, feeling like I had been plunged into an icy abyss. It turned out, my entire life had been a meticulously crafted lie. 1 On the other side of the wall, the mocking laughter finally died down. Someone else spoke up. “Damn, Liam. You actually manage to intentionally hurt her every time?” “You really must despise Mia, huh?” “Aren’t you terrified she’ll find out the truth about what you did back then?” Liam’s face was obscured by cigarette smoke. His voice, when he finally spoke, was as cold as a harsh winter. “So what if she finds out?” “Permanently destroying her vocal cords was the only way Chloe could win the Golden Ear Award in the music industry.” “Besides, I’ve already promised to marry her. What more could she possibly want?” With that, Liam looked down, gazing with profound devotion at a photo of Chloe on his phone. “My heart will only ever belong to Chloe.” “I would sacrifice absolutely anything for her. Even… someone else’s life!” The room erupted in gasps again, with everyone praising Liam for his incredible devotion. But every single word he spoke pierced directly into my ears. It felt like a massive, invisible hand reached into my chest and viciously twisted my heart. I convulsed in agony, leaning heavily against the wall just to remember how to breathe. Four years ago, I was involved in a horrific car accident on my way to compete in the Golden Ear Awards. When I woke up, not only had I missed the competition entirely, but I was told my vocal cords were irreparably damaged. I fell into a severe depression, becoming incredibly volatile and prone to explosive anger. It was Liam who stayed by my side the entire time, encouraging me, supporting me. On the day I was finally discharged from the hospital, he even dropped to one knee and proposed, swearing he would love me for the rest of his life. But now, I realized it was all a monstrous, calculated lie! My entire body was trembling, and a sharp, agonizing pain radiated from my throat. I stumbled into the kitchen and, with shaking hands, logged into an account I hadn’t touched in four years. The follower count on my singing account, [Silk Melody], hadn’t dropped at all. Every so often, fans would still leave comments, begging to know when I was coming back. From there, I quickly found Chloe’s profile. Unlike four years ago when she was completely unknown, Chloe’s posts now regularly racked up hundreds of thousands of likes. Her most recent post was from three days ago. It showed her at the Paris Opera House, her arm linked affectionately with a man in a tailored black suit. [I just mentioned I wanted to see a show, and he flew me out here to experience the world!] [He said loving someone is like cultivating a rare flower, and I am his most precious bloom.] The comments section was flooded with people gushing about how perfectly matched they were, calling them a match made in heaven. I scrolled down her feed frantically, like a woman possessed. Every single post featured “him.” A “him” who never showed his face. Suddenly, my eyes locked onto a specific post, and my heart slammed to a halt. It was a series of highly suggestive, lust-fueled photos. Taken in a suite at the Hilton. A naked man and woman, strategically covering themselves, posing for mirror selfies. Chloe had written a pinned comment underneath: [His technique is absolutely incredible, and he lasts so long. Every time is pure bliss.] [It’s true what they say: when you find a man, find one with a strong dedication to ‘customer service’.] Her fans were screaming in the comments about how jealous they were, spamming reaction stickers begging for her “luck.” But on the exact night those photos were posted, I permanently lost my mother because I couldn’t speak. 2 A year ago, my mother was involved in a terrible car accident. Because my vocal cords were destroyed, I couldn’t call for help. I stood in the middle of the chaotic accident scene, dropping to my knees and desperately kowtowing to every single passing car. Finally, a kind stranger stopped and helped me rush my mother to the hospital. But we were too late. She didn’t make it. During those agonizing, critical minutes we lost, I sent dozens of frantic text messages to Liam. Because he had once promised me that no matter what, he would always reply to my texts the absolute second he saw them. But that night, I never received a single reply. Because he was busy “servicing” Chloe, utilizing every single ounce of his “technique” in bed. I locked my phone screen. It felt like a literal axe was cleaving my brain in two. The excruciating psychological pain made it impossible to breathe. Slumping against the kitchen counter, I gasped desperately for air. Suddenly, Liam’s panicked voice echoed from behind me. “Mia! Are you okay?!” “Is your throat hurting again?” He gently patted my back, slowly helping me regulate my breathing. “Mia, I told you, I don’t care what your voice sounds like. Even if you can never speak another word for the rest of your life, I will always love you.” Liam pulled me into his arms, his voice thick with tender comfort. I leaned stiffly against his chest, listening to his familiar heartbeat, feeling nothing but profound, nauseating absurdity. It turns out that mouths can lie, and heartbeats can lie too. Liam’s heart was racing, beating so fast I almost could have believed I was the woman he truly loved. But the horrific conversation I had just overheard was permanently burned into my memory. I curled into myself, trembling slightly. “Mia, let me get your medicine, okay?” Liam looked down at me, his eyes overflowing with manufactured concern. He reached up to gently touch my throat, then released me to go grab the first-aid kit. But the very next second. Both of our phones pinged simultaneously. He stopped dead in his tracks, stared at his screen for a few seconds, and then immediately sprinted toward the front door in absolute panic. Without a single word of explanation, his departure was rushed and jarring. I stood frozen in the kitchen. I pulled out my phone and saw that Chloe had just posted a new update. [I just ran into a crazy stalker fan at my hotel! I’m so terrified!] The attached photo showed her looking panicked and frightened. Every single micro-expression on her face was perfectly calculated to make her look incredibly fragile and pitiful. I let out a cynical, self-deprecating laugh as a dull, agonizing ache pulsed through my heart. Through the living room window, I watched Liam sprinting to his car and speeding off like a maniac. So he actually was capable of being this terrified for someone. Without realizing it, tears began streaming down my arms. My body convulsed violently, and I stumbled, collapsing heavily onto the floor. Several minutes later, I slowly forced myself to stand. I dug deep into the back of a kitchen cabinet and pulled out an old business card. [Professor, I want to get treatment for my vocal cords.] [I want to return to the stage.] The reply came almost instantly. [Mia, are you serious?!] [I’m booking you a flight immediately!] [There’s a revolutionary new treatment technique in the US. I know with absolute certainty that you can win the Golden Ear Award!] My professor booked my flight for the very next day. I packed my clothes and shoved the suitcase deep into the back of my closet. Once I finished, I sat blankly in the living room. It wasn’t until late that night that I heard the sound of a key in the lock. Liam stumbled in, reeking of alcohol. “Sorry, sister-in-law. Liam’s in a really bad mood, so he drank a bit too much.” “Please take good care of him.” Liam staggered into the apartment and pulled me into a crushing embrace. But the name slurring from his lips was Chloe’s. “Chloe… I know I was wrong. I never meant to hide the truth about Mia from you.” “I don’t love Mia at all! She isn’t worth a single strand of your hair.” “Chloe, how could you just tease me like that and then leave?” “Do you have any idea how much I’m burning up inside right now?” 3 Liam’s heavy, alcohol-laced breath washed over my neck. Unlike his usual brutal, aggressive demeanor, tonight, Liam was incredibly gentle. I covered my eyes with my hands, tears silently streaming down my temples. Four years ago, filled with nervous anticipation and dreams of a beautiful romance, I gave myself to Liam for the first time. And that very first time, he treated me with such brutal aggression that my body ached for days. But afterward, he actually blamed me. “Mia, your body makes me incredibly uncomfortable.” “Every time we try to do this, you completely kill my mood.” I was naive and inexperienced. Believing him, I kept trying to make it work. Terrified that any unpleasant sound from my ruined throat would ruin his mood, I aggressively suppressed every reaction. But right now, I felt absolutely no pain or discomfort. I only felt an incredible, overwhelming pleasure. And all of this was solely because Liam was currently hallucinating that I was Chloe. How hilariously tragic. I violently wiped away my tears and used every ounce of strength I had to shove Liam to the floor. But he immediately lunged at me again. This time, his eyes focused, and he realized who I was. “Mia?” “Why the hell did you push me?!” He stared at me in pure, unadulterated disbelief. His eyes, glazed with lust, gave him a feral, animalistic look. As if he had finally ripped off the refined, gentlemanly mask he always wore, Liam kissed me with savage, punishing force. I couldn’t break free, and he subjected me to his usual, violent routine. The next morning, Liam finally woke up sober. He rubbed his temples, a flicker of guilt crossing his eyes. “Mia, last night… I drank too much.” “Make sure you take your birth control.” With that, he pulled on a black dress shirt. As he walked toward the bedroom door, he stumbled slightly, accidentally kicking over the massive box of toys I had bought. The small toys spilled out across the floor, some of them accidentally turning on and beginning to vibrate violently. Liam muttered a low curse, right as his phone rang. He glanced at the screen, a soft, genuine smile instantly blooming on his lips, and walked out, shutting the door behind him. The bedroom returned to its dim gloom. Fighting through the physical pain, I unlocked my phone. Chloe had posted a new update. A photo of a pair of red stilettos resting on a perfectly tailored, black suit jacket. [Spent all night lighting fires all over him. I just love watching him burn with desire, yet still refuse to hurt me.] In the dark bedroom, my phone screen slowly timed out and went black. I struggled to my feet, nearly collapsing again, my entire body trembling violently. Once I managed to get dressed, I limped painfully to the bedroom door. Kneeling on the floor, I manually turned off every single vibrating toy and shoved them all back into the box. These toys felt like a physical manifestation of my pathetic, humiliating delusion. I lowered my head. The agonizing, stabbing pain in my heart made it impossible to breathe, and every inhalation felt like thousands of needles piercing my ruined throat. Thank God I was leaving so soon. I carried the heavy box of toys downstairs and threw it directly into the dumpster. Winters in Beijing are brutally cold. I stood by the dumpster for a few minutes, catching my breath. Suddenly, a familiar Maybach sped toward me and screeched to a halt. Liam threw the door open, his face frantic, and clamped his hand around my wrist like a vice. “Mia, get in! We need to go to the hospital right now!” Before I could even struggle, Liam forcefully dragged me into the car. He drove like a maniac, blowing through multiple red lights. When we arrived at the hospital, he dragged me straight to a VIP ward. “Draw her blood! She has the Rh-negative blood type!” 4 In the freezing, sterile hospital room, I clutched my phone, my entire body shaking uncontrollably. It turned out that Chloe had been in a car accident. Early this morning. So Liam, completely disregarding my safety or well-being, dragged me to the hospital solely to act as a human blood bag for Chloe. But Liam! After the car accident four years ago, I was diagnosed with severe anemia. And you knew that perfectly well. The overwhelming stench of disinfectant filled the air. I watched the blood draining rapidly from my arm, my face turning ashen pale. The nurse patiently asked if I was feeling unwell. I shook my head. I literally couldn’t speak a single word. But tears began streaming relentlessly down my face. “Miss, please don’t cry!” “Aren’t you a voluntary donor?” The nurse looked absolutely shocked and instinctively moved to pull the needle out. But Liam immediately barked an order to stop her. “Mia, stop being so unreasonable.” “Someone’s life depends on your blood right now. Stop acting like a spoiled brat!” Liam’s brow was furrowed in deep annoyance, his grip on my wrist painfully tight. He had a tight, reassuring smile on his lips, but his eyes were freezing cold. The nurse was startled by his tone, her hand trembling as she pulled away. I stared up at Liam, and suddenly, a cold, empty smile touched my lips. [Liam Vance, this is the absolute last time you will ever hurt me.] I lowered my head. I didn’t struggle, and I didn’t fight back. It wasn’t until several bags of my blood had been drawn that the nurse finally whispered timidly: “Sir, this should be more than enough to save the pregnant woman who’s hemorrhaging…” Liam frowned deeply. “Pregnant woman?” The nurse nodded. “Yes! We currently have a pregnant patient with Rh-negative blood experiencing severe postpartum hemorrhaging.” “Isn’t she the one you’re here to save?” Liam’s frown deepened into a scowl. Suddenly, a painfully familiar voice echoed from the hallway. “See? I told you!” “I told you Liam would definitely drag Mia here!” “Chloe, I won the bet!” Liam’s friend walked into the room, laughing boisterously. Right behind them was Chloe. Her complexion was perfectly rosy, her makeup was flawless, and she looked absolutely nothing like someone who had just been in a car crash. I sat completely frozen, my head spinning with dizziness from the blood loss. Then I heard Chloe’s sickeningly sweet, whining voice. “Liam, you aren’t mad, are you?” “It’s all their fault! They insisted on making a bet and playing a stupid game.” “I know I was wrong.” Chloe grabbed Liam’s hands and threw herself into his arms. Liam didn’t move a muscle. His eyes were terrifyingly calm. Within seconds, a suffocating silence fell over the entire room. The group finally realized they had crossed a massive line, and genuine fear flickered in their eyes. “Liam, please don’t be mad…” But suddenly, Liam wrapped his arms fiercely around Chloe, the veins on the back of his hands bulging. His voice actually trembled. “Chloe, never, ever make a joke like that again.” “I was… terrified.” In an instant, an explosive ringing erupted in my ears, drowning out all other sound. The couple embracing in front of me looked like a perfect, romantic painting, reducing me to nothing but a pathetic, humiliating clown. I was the one who shouldn’t be here! Using the wall to support my severely weakened body, I slowly walked out of the room, leaving their joyous celebration behind. When I reached the hospital entrance, a torrential downpour had begun. I stumbled blindly into the rain, my clothes instantly soaked through. Rain and tears mingled on my face. The pain in my throat was so intense I could barely breathe. But I felt completely numb. I walked back to the apartment like a hollow, soulless ghost. The moment I unlocked the door, my strength completely vanished, and I collapsed heavily in the entryway. I curled into a tight ball, wrapping my arms desperately around myself. As if that pathetic gesture could offer me some kind of comfort. But my rain-soaked phone suddenly lit up. And the tiny, fragile wall of defense I had struggled so hard to build was ruthlessly annihilated. Chloe had posted a new update. [Just a silly joke, but he was absolutely terrified.] The photo showed the flawless lower half of Liam’s face, gently kissing the corner of her eye. The comments section was flooded with people declaring that only a love this profound was worthy of marriage. Chloe even replied to one of those comments. [Marriage is already in the works!] [He said he’s preparing a massive surprise for me!] With stiff, trembling fingers, I actually ‘liked’ the post. Then, I logged into my [Silk Melody] account. This time, I didn’t use incognito mode. The “Online” indicator for [Silk Melody] lit up. I posted a photo of my boarding pass. [Goodbye, Liam Vance.] … Meanwhile, back at the hospital, Liam excused himself to the restroom and immediately dialed my number. But the call wouldn’t connect. Until a friend sent him a screenshot. “Liam! Mia is leaving the country!” “She might have found out the truth about what happened back then!” The hand holding the phone began to shake violently, and a sudden, inexplicable wave of sheer panic seized his heart. 5 In the past, Liam was absolutely, undeniably convinced that I would never, ever leave him. But in that moment, he was genuinely terrified. In the hospital restroom, his breathing grew ragged as he yanked at his tie, loosening it. But the paralyzing panic in his chest didn’t subside; instead, it mutated into a suffocating dread. In a fit of explosive rage, he punched the mirror. The glass shattered instantly. Blood streamed down his fingers, but he didn’t even seem to notice. When he finally walked out of the restroom, Chloe gasped, covering her mouth in shock. “Liam! What happened to your hand?!” Liam raised his hand, staring blankly at the blood coating his knuckles. He actually felt a bizarre, momentary sense of calm. But looking at the pure terror in Chloe’s eyes, his mind violently flashed back to me. Over the past four years, if he suffered even the most minor, microscopic injury, I would completely lose my mind with worry. Tears would instantly well up in my eyes, and I would clumsily type out furious text messages, scolding him for not taking better care of himself. And then, I would meticulously, gently bandage his wound. Thinking of this, Liam ignored his bleeding hand and dialed the first number in his favorites list again. “The number you have dialed is currently powered off…” He dialed it again, and again, and again. The panic inside Liam grew exponentially. He raised a hand to clutch his chest. It felt like something vital, something foundational, had just permanently vanished. At that exact moment, I fell into a deep, exhausted sleep on the plane. When I finally woke up and walked out of the arrival gate, the very first thing I saw was my professor waiting for me. In an instant, the dam finally broke, and years of suppressed agony and injustice exploded outward. I threw myself into my professor’s arms and sobbed hysterically, telling her absolutely everything about what Liam had done to me. Her eyes blazed with pure, unadulterated fury, her hands balling into tight fists. “Mia, you foolish, foolish girl!” “Why didn’t you tell me you were suffering so much?!” My professor’s eyes grew red as she held me in a fierce, protective embrace. “Don’t worry. I will use absolutely every resource and connection I have to help you!” “The Golden Ear Award this year belongs to you!” My professor was a woman of her word. She immediately secured appointments with the absolute top specialists in the US. “Ms. Harrison, whoever severed your vocal cords did so with the explicit intention of making sure you never recovered.” “I can treat it, but the surgical procedure is going to be unimaginably agonizing.” “We will need to perform the surgery entirely without anesthesia. That is the only possible way to guarantee the maximum restoration of your vocal cord function.” “Are you absolutely certain you want to proceed?” I clenched my fists tightly, but a massive wave of relief washed over me. Thank God. It can be fixed. I nodded, agreeing to the surgery without a microsecond of hesitation. For the next month, I underwent a brutal, agonizing surgery almost every single week. Every single procedure felt like being burned alive and reborn from the ashes. Finally, after a grueling month, I produced my first vocal sound. My voice was clear and crisp, but possessed a subtle, undeniable huskiness. It was entirely different from my previous tone. It carried a profound depth, a texture born from surviving unimaginable suffering. I touched my throat, massive tears rolling down my face. I could finally speak again. The absolute second I regained my voice, I threw myself entirely into vocal training. I practically lived in the music studio, practicing from dawn until dusk. Four years ago, I was robbed of the Golden Ear Award. This time, I absolutely refused to let it slip through my fingers. Fueled by that unyielding determination, I trained relentlessly until exactly one week before the Golden Ear competition. When my professor finally pushed open the door to the practice room. “Mia, I’ve booked your flight back home.” “This time, I know with absolute certainty that you are going to take the Golden Ear Award.” But a flicker of deep anxiety crossed her eyes. “Mia, Liam Vance is a major sponsor for the Golden Ear Awards this year. He’s on the judging panel.” “I’m worried that…” I smiled and gently interrupted her. “Professor, the judging panel for the Golden Ear Awards isn’t just Liam Vance. It’s every single netizen in the entire country.” “I believe absolute talent will conquer everything else.” My professor smiled warmly and walked over to hug me. “Mia, there is one more thing I need to tell you.” “For the past few months, Liam Vance has been relentlessly hunting for any trace of you.” “When you return to the country, there’s a very high probability he will find out immediately.” Liam was looking for me? Hadn’t he ruined my life enough? Was he trying to ensure I was actually dead? I leaned against my professor’s shoulder, my heart turning to ice. I felt like I had been violently dragged back to a few months ago. Back when I was trapped in the suffocating delusion of his “love,” serving as nothing more than prey for him to maliciously torture. But this time, I absolutely refused to be his prey ever again.

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The Halloween season was approaching, and my two childhood sweethearts, who had cherished me for twenty years, abandoned my grandmother, who suffered from Alzheimer’s, at a busy intersection. She never got to see me one last time, dying in a horrific car accident. At the same time, the internet exploded with trending news: “The Two Lexington Brothers Race for Love: Who Will Win Her Heart?” It turned out they had abandoned Grandma to compete for the right to spend Halloween with my stepsister. Liam Lexington, who lost the competition, vented his frustration at me: “It’s all your fault for constantly calling me, otherwise, I would be the one spending Halloween with Mandy!” Jerry Lexington, who won, sternly warned me: “You’re an adult; act your age. Don’t dare call me on Halloween!” After Grandma’s funeral, I looked at an email in my inbox: “Ms. Phoebe Smith, please reply to confirm your participation in the Lunar Exploration Project! If confirmed, your identity will be concealed, and you will not be permitted to contact the outside world for five years.” I calmly replied to the email: “Confirm!” 1 I was at the hospital, processing a refund for a deposit, when a familiar voice rang out. “I just coughed, and you two overreacted, insisting on bringing me in for a check-up!” The two Lexington brothers, one on each side, carefully helped my stepsister, Mandy Perry. In the past, they were the two people who cared about me the most. When I was young, my mother had just passed away and hadn’t even been buried, yet my father eagerly brought Mandy and her mother into our home. Through their deliberate machinations, my father grew increasingly disappointed in me, eventually just sending me back to my grandmother’s house. From then on, I met the two Lexington brothers next door to Grandma. They pitied me, a young girl who had lost her mother and was bullied, and they guarded me like knights, showering me with all their affection and care. They promised to be good to me forever, but when Mandy returned, they broke all their promises. They knew Grandma was my only family, they knew she suffered from Alzheimer’s, yet they still carelessly abandoned her at a busy intersection. Mandy saw me first, flashing me a triumphant smile. “Phoebe, what are you doing at the hospital? Are you stalking us? Are you keeping too tight a leash on Liam and Jerry?” I clutched the settlement statement tighter, glaring hatefully at the three people before me. Jerry stepped forward, blocking Mandy. “Phoebe Smith, what are you doing here at the hospital? You told us you were busy with work and needed us to take your grandmother for a check-up, but now you have time to stalk us.” Liam looked at me with disappointment, shaking his head: “I can’t believe you’ve resorted to lying just to get attention! Phoebe Smith, how did you become so disgusting?” Hearing them mention Grandma, my heart twisted in pain again, and I lunged forward, hitting Jerry like a madwoman. “Shut up! How dare you mention my grandmother?” “You knew she was sick, yet you abandoned her alone on the road!” Jerry gripped my hands tightly, his face dark. “Phoebe Smith, can you stop being so unreasonable?” “We kindly took your grandmother for a check-up, we just left her at the intersection, it was only a short walk home. She’s not legless, why are you being so dramatic?” Even now, they were self-righteous. Grandma treated them like her own children; for over a decade, their favorite thing was to linger at Grandma’s house, eating her homemade meals. They had even promised to take good care of her. But now, they had carelessly abandoned Grandma just to compete for Mandy’s company. I couldn’t bear to imagine how helpless Grandma must have felt, facing so many people and so many cars, all while suffering from her illness. “I truly wish I had never known you!” Then there would be no hope, then I could still have Grandma! A look of shock and a hint of panic flashed across Liam’s face. “It was thoughtless of us not to take Grandma all the way home, but do you have to overreact and erase our twenty years together so casually?” Mandy’s eyes flickered, and she spoke in a saccharine voice. “Phoebe, it’s my fault for causing unpleasantness between you three! I’ll just stop contacting the Lexington brothers, please don’t be angry with them!” With that, she covered her face and ran towards the door. Liam and Jerry glared at me hatefully, “Are you satisfied now?” Then they both chased after her. Soon after, Mandy updated her social media. “It’s easy to cheer up an upset princess; all it takes is two knights and a Ferris wheel ride!” As a child living with Grandma, my greatest desire was to ride a Ferris wheel. Liam and Jerry promised they would fulfill my wish before I turned twenty-five. But due to busy schedules, it never happened. Now, they took Mandy to the place I had longed for. Watching them so intimately, with no room for a fourth person, I forced an ugly smile. I calculated that there were six days left until my departure. The day before I left was also my mother’s death anniversary. After seeing her, I could leave with a clear conscience. From now on, I would no longer bother the three of them. 2 Countdown, day five. When Grandma was occasionally lucid before she passed, she always talked about wanting to see her old house in the countryside. Now Grandma could never return, and I was about to embark on a long journey. I thought I’d go back and see her house one last time before I left. As soon as I reached the village entrance, I saw a large bulldozer mercilessly tearing down a corner of the old house. I rushed forward, wanting to stop it, but tripped over some loose stones and fell. My arm stung with a burning pain, a large patch of skin was scraped raw, and blood mixed with dirt made it particularly messy. I struggled to my feet, limping to the bulldozer and blocking its path. “This is my house! By what right are you demolishing it without my consent?” Mandy walked out from behind a large tree near the house, pinching her nose and fanning her hand. “This old, dilapidated house is an eyesore here; turning it into a rose garden would be much nicer for everyone to enjoy! Old things should just be destroyed!” Her words carried a double meaning, and her cruel face increasingly resembled the one from over a decade ago. Back then, after my mother’s death, I was helpless and could only fall asleep hugging her photograph every night. But Mandy, when I wasn’t looking, snatched my mother’s photo, forced me to crawl on the ground like a dog, made me eat slop, and in the end, she still broke her promise and threw my mother’s photo into a cesspit! At that time, she stood before me like a demon, laughing wildly. “If you want it, jump in and get it! Dead people’s things are bad luck, and your unlucky mother belongs with the cesspit!” I ran to my father for help, but was met with his merciless condemnation. After that, Mandy and her mother became even more abusive. They would punch and kick me at the slightest displeasure. My arms and back were covered with scars from their curling irons, and going hungry was a regular occurrence. Even now, seeing her still makes me instinctively afraid and wanting to hide. The two Lexington brothers walked out from behind Mandy. I remembered once, when I accidentally bumped into a lamppost, Liam and Jerry were so worried they took me to the hospital for a full check-up, terrified I might have even a minor injury. But now, they just stood by the doorway with their hands in their pockets, watching coldly. My thoughts returned, and the fresh pain mixed with old grievances made me tremble with anger. Just as I raised my hand to push Mandy away, she let out a delicate cry and collapsed to the ground. Liam and Jerry rushed forward almost simultaneously, scooping Mandy into their arms, tenderly checking her arms and ankles. When they saw the red marks from the pebbles on her hand, Jerry’s eyes turned red. Jerry, who was usually straightforward, kicked me to the ground, looking at me coldly. “Mandy is your sister, how can you be so malicious?” “Mandy, as a Perry family member, has a say in this old house. Do you intend to monopolize it?” “Just a few dilapidated rooms, even you are not worth one of Mandy’s fingers! Go apologize to Mandy, or don’t blame me for being rough!” The usually composed Liam, holding Mandy in his arms, did not stop Jerry’s actions, and his gaze at me was filled with disappointment. “Phoebe Smith, have we spoiled you too much, making you so audacious?” An indescribable sadness filled my heart. Years ago, they too had lived in this old house for a long time. Fishing in the river, picking fruit from trees – those were the most beautiful memories of our childhood. They once said they would preserve the old house forever, and one day bring their own children back to experience our childhood. Their “forever” turned out to be so fleeting. Inside the old house were still old photos of me and Grandma; I wanted to get them back. But Jerry blocked my path. “You must apologize to Mandy first, otherwise I won’t let you in!” Grandma was gone, the old house was being torn down. I just wanted to retrieve some photos of Grandma as mementos. Jerry kicked me in the back of the knee, making me fall to my knees with a thud. Mandy flashed me a triumphant look, then turned, putting on a delicate, pitiable expression. “Liam, it’s too noisy and dirty here, let’s go back, okay?” The indifference on Liam’s face faded, replaced by a gentle expression. “Okay, does your hand still hurt? Do you want to go to the hospital for a check-up?” Jerry also rushed after her, “Mandy, once this area is cleared, I’ll gather every variety of rose in the world for you, okay?” Coddled like a precious gem by the two men, Mandy raised an eyebrow at me, silently saying: “Sister, you’ve lost again!” 3 Against her, I seemed to have never won. She always effortlessly stole my things; once it was my father’s love, now it was the Lexington brothers’ affection. Countdown, day four. Returning to the apartment I rented for Grandma, her border collie, Buddy, was nowhere to be seen. The doors and windows were intact. Buddy was a very smart dog; he would never follow a stranger. I quickly checked the surveillance footage and saw Liam and Jerry had visited before I came back. They had always been good to Buddy, so I should have felt at ease, but for some reason, I felt a pang of panic. I quickly got dressed and took a taxi to the Lexington brothers’ villa. Before Grandma fell ill, I sometimes stayed at the Lexington villa. The brothers had specifically designed a room and walk-in closet for me. I pressed my fingerprint, only to realize that my print had been deleted from the villa door at some point, and even the password had been changed. It had started raining, drenching me instantly, but the unease in my heart grew stronger. Finally, just as I was about to call the police, the villa door opened, and Liam walked out, holding an umbrella. “What are you doing here? You’re drenched, are you trying to stage a drama?” I ignored him and walked straight in. But he grabbed my arm, “Mandy’s having a party, don’t go in and spoil the fun!” Stepping into the villa, I found a crowd of men and women, snacks and empty shells strewn everywhere, and even my bedroom and walk-in closet were ransacked. Seeing me enter, a guy with dyed yellow hair walked up and put his arm around my shoulder. “Whoa, is this a wet T-shirt contest? Come here, let me feel you up!” Jerry leaned casually on the sofa, carefully peeling an orange for Mandy, not even glancing at me. I remembered once, when I was out, a man merely whistled at me, and the two Lexington brothers ruined that man’s family. Now, this yellow-haired guy openly provoked me in front of him, yet he remained indifferent. It was terrifying how heartless men could be. I slapped away the yellow-haired guy’s hand and walked up to Jerry. “Where’s Buddy? Where have you hidden Buddy?” Jerry ignored me. Mandy walked over with a drink from the bar. “Phoebe, if you drink this, I’ll tell you, how about it?” I’ve been allergic to alcohol since childhood. When I was little, I unknowingly ate some liquor-filled candies and broke out in a full-body rash, which terrified the two Lexington brothers. Liam returned, carrying a box of liquor. “Tell me, where is Buddy?” Mandy poured a table full of drinks, then challenged me with her gaze. “Phoebe, you might have thought one drink was too little. Now I’ve personally poured you a table full of drinks.” “As soon as you drink them all, I’ll tell you Buddy’s whereabouts.” Drinking this much would be fatal for me. I looked up at Liam and Jerry. “Is this also what you want?” Jerry, with a casual swagger, his legs crossed, replied, “Mandy’s wish is what my brother and I wish!” Fearing something terrible had happened to Buddy, I stepped forward and picked up a glass from the table. One after another, the pungent liquid flowed down my throat, making me cough violently. My consciousness gradually blurred, but I still forced myself to finish the last glass. “Can you tell me now?” Liam and Jerry didn’t look happy; their faces were frighteningly dark. “Mandy is going to volunteer at an animal shelter, so she took Buddy home to practice.” “But that beast bit Mandy, so I beat him and sold him!” My body swayed, filled with resentment, “Jerry, are you even human?” “That was Buddy, Buddy who was with us for over ten years, how could you do that to him?” Jerry, publicly accused by me, looked annoyed and frustrated. “Just an old dog, how much is it worth? Here’s ten thousand dollars, isn’t that enough for you to buy another one?” He pulled out a wad of cash and threw it in my face. I couldn’t stand it any longer. Swaying unsteadily, my head heavy, I stumbled out. I had to find Buddy. He was my last bond in this world, the family member who would never betray me. 4 My head grew heavier and heavier, and finally, I collapsed. In a daze, I saw Liam rush over quickly. Countdown, day three. I woke up in the hospital, my whole body itching and aching from the rash. “You know you’re allergic, yet you drank so much alcohol. Do you have a death wish?” Listening to the nurse’s incessant chatter, I looked at Liam, who was guarding the bed. “Where’s Buddy?” He looked at me as if I were an unreasonable child. “It’s just a dog, why are you so obsessed?” My emotions suddenly crumbled, and I burst into tears: “No, Buddy isn’t just a dog, he’s my family. I’ve already lost Grandma, I can’t lose him too.” Liam, who had never let me shed a single tear since childhood, stared blankly at my tear-streaked face. “Phoebe Smith, can you stop always talking about Grandma? She’s so old, why do you always curse her to die?” My vision blurred with tears, “Didn’t you two kill Grandma?” Liam finally lost his patience, “Are you mentally ill? Do you have paranoid delusions?” “You truly have a malicious heart, even bringing up your own grandmother, with whom you’ve depended on your whole life, to curse her to death and gain sympathy!” I looked at Liam and gave a bitter smile. “I wish I were lying; then Grandma would still be alive and well…” “Enough. I’m too idle to sit here listening to your nonsense! Buddy was sold to the North End Farmers Market. Go ahead and be as crazy as you want!” I pulled out the IV needle from my hand, ignoring everything, and rushed out. Liam, for whatever reason, followed me. I searched stall after stall but couldn’t find Buddy. In my disappointment, I saw Buddy’s bell hanging on the door of a shop at the very end of an alley. But I was afraid, my feet incredibly heavy. Pushing open the door, I saw several people gathered around a stove inside. “Where did you get this old dog? The meat is too tough…” In the corner, a pile of fur was stacked, a color I knew all too well. “Ah…” I shrieked, violently vomiting blood, and fainted. Countdown, day two. I woke up in the hospital again, this time with a full house: the two Lexington brothers and Mandy were all there. Seeing me awake, Jerry scratched his head, looking guilty. “I just wanted to teach him a lesson; I didn’t know the person who bought him would… eat him.” Liam sighed, “This was indeed our mistake. When you’re better, we’ll go buy you another one.” How could they speak so lightly? That was the dog that had been with me for ten years, the dog Grandma and I considered family. Even if they bought a million more, none would ever be Buddy. I couldn’t shed another tear, turning my face away from them. “Alright, alright, you can’t blame the Lexington brothers. Who told that old dog to bite people so randomly!” I picked up the water glass from the table and threw it at Mandy. “My dog was fine in his own home; you’re the ones who came to steal him! Get out, all of you, get out!” They left, sheepishly. Countdown, final day. It was my mother’s death anniversary. I placed Buddy’s fur into a box, preparing to see my mother before I left. Early that morning, perhaps out of guilt, Liam, Jerry, and Mandy waited at the hospital entrance, surrounded by various offerings. In previous years, on my mother’s death anniversary, the two brothers would always accompany me, rain or shine. “Phoebe, today’s your mom’s anniversary, let us take you!” I ignored them, simply hailed a taxi, and headed to my mother’s cemetery. They followed closely, trailing behind me to my mother’s tombstone. Liam and Jerry, seeing the tombstone next to my mother’s, immediately teared up. Mandy’s eyes darted away, and she scoffed coldly. “Phoebe Smith, it’s a pity you’re not an actress. I can’t believe you even erected a tombstone here just to make us believe your grandmother died!” Liam frowned, “Today I’m going to tell Grandma that you, this unfilial granddaughter, curse her to die every day!” He pulled out his phone and dialed Grandma’s number, but it showed as off. Then he impatiently called his assistant: “Go to Phoebe Smith’s grandmother’s house now and have her call me back!” “Mr. Lexington, Mrs. Perry has passed away.” Liam and Jerry looked disbelievingly, huddling together to listen to the phone. “What did you say? We just took her for a check-up a few days ago, how could she suddenly pass away?” “Mr. Lexington, I heard she was hit by a car on the way home after her check-up. Her injuries were too severe, and she died the same day.”

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