Category: English

After the yacht went down, I was stranded on a nightmare of an island for three years. I had my fingernails ripped out. I was forced to eat raw meat. I was broken and trained like a wild animal. Until the day a red flare shot into the sky. I ran for my life, desperate for rescue. But when I reached the beach, I watched the tribal chief wipe the blood-red war paint from his face. Underneath was the face of my fiancé, Joseph. “Congratulations. You passed the wife-training trial.” “From now on, you are going to be a perfect, obedient wife.” Joseph pulled my violently trembling body into his arms. His eyes were red, his voice as sickeningly gentle as it used to be when we were dating. And the “Chief’s Wife,” the woman who used to hold my hands down and laugh while she ripped my nails out one by one? That was Valerie. My best friend. “You were too rebellious before, Scarlett. Too spoiled. Your temper was unacceptable.” Back home, my parents smiled warmly, showering me with praise. “Exactly. This is wonderful. Look how docile she is now.” 1 Pop. A red flare exploded over the ocean while I was squatting by a rocky pit, smashing animal bones with a rock. I was making soup for the Chief. If the bones weren’t crushed fine enough, I would be beaten tonight. I froze for a split second, dropped the heavy stone, and bolted toward the water. My right leg had been mangled by a wild dog during my first year fighting for scraps. I ran with a heavy, pathetic limp. Jagged reefs sliced open the soles of my feet. Low-hanging branches tore at my arms. I didn’t care. Rescue was here. I truly believed rescue was here. I stumbled and collapsed onto the sandy beach, dragging my body toward the pristine white yacht anchored in the shallows. “Help me. Please, God, help me.” A man stood on the deck. Tall, heavily muscled, his face smeared with bloody tribal paint, wearing a crown of feathers. The cannibal Chief. My entire body locked up. A second later, my knees gave out and I slammed hard into the wet sand. “Master. I wasn’t running away.” “I was looking for firewood. I swear I wasn’t running.” I wrapped my arms around my head and pressed my forehead brutally into the sand. My voice was a broken, terrified squeak. A soft sigh floated down from above me. “Scarlett.” Perfect, unaccented English. My head snapped up. The Chief slowly pulled off his carved wooden mask. He wiped the greasepaint from his jaw, revealing a face I knew better than my own. Joseph. My billionaire fiancé. My lips trembled uncontrollably. It took me agonizing seconds to choke out a single word. “…Joseph?” He stepped off the boat and crouched in front of me. Just like he had done a thousand times before we got engaged, he reached out and gently stroked my hair. “It’s me.” “Don’t be scared. It’s over.” I stared at him. My brain felt like it was being cleaved in half with an axe. A familiar giggle echoed behind him. The “Chief’s Wife”, the woman who always pinned my wrists while iron pliers tore my nails from their beds, took off her bone mask. Valerie. My ride-or-die best friend. “Scarlett, why do you look like that?” Valerie smiled, crouching down next to me. “You should be thrilled. Joseph went through so much trouble to set this up for you.” I stared at her. A deafening ringing filled my ears. Joseph pulled me into his chest. His voice was velvet. “Scarlett, you used to fight with me constantly. You threatened to cancel the wedding. You kept saying you wanted to build your own startup.” “You were too proud. Too independent. You had no idea that a marriage can’t survive on just love.” “I had to use extreme measures to teach you how to submit. To teach you how to rely on me. I had to rip those thorns right out of you.” His hand rubbed my spine, soothing me like a spooked stray dog. “I know you suffered out here.” “But if I didn’t do this, you would never have learned how to be a proper wife.” “It’s all good now.” “You finally know your place.” My blood turned to ice. My stomach violently rebelled, and I threw up right there in the sand. Valerie immediately jumped back in disgust. But Joseph didn’t flinch. He used an expensive pocket square to wipe the bile from my lips, his eyes practically swimming with tender affection. “Alright, let’s go home.” “Your parents are waiting for you.” That was the exact moment I realized the truth. These past three years weren’t a shipwreck. They weren’t an act of God. It was a calculated, custom-built slaughterhouse designed just for me. 2 The day we flew back, the Montgomery and Vance families threw a massive welcome home gala. Joseph wanted the entire elite social circle to know he had brought his missing bride back from the dead. The ballroom was blindingly bright, dripping in crystal and designer perfume. I wore a high-necked, long-sleeved gown to hide the mosaic of scars covering my body. I wore lace gloves to hide the missing fingernails. Joseph held my hand tightly, parading me through the crowd to soak up the compliments. “Joseph is a saint. Searching for three years and finally bringing her home.” “Look at her. She went through hell, but she looks so much softer and tamer now.” “Now that is exactly how a bride should act.” Joseph soaked it all in, thoroughly satisfied. He squeezed my hand and whispered, “See? Everyone loves the new you.” I kept my head down. I didn’t say a word. Right then, a waiter wheeled out a cart for table-side flambé steaks. The moment the liquor hit the hot pan, a massive fireball erupted into the air. I let out a blood-curdling scream. My legs buckled and I dropped to the floor, scrambling on all fours to hide under the nearest banquet table. “Don’t burn me! I’ll eat it! I’ll eat the raw meat! Please don’t burn me!” I dragged the tablecloth down with me. Expensive wine glasses and plates shattered across the marble floor. The entire ballroom went dead silent. Joseph’s face tightened. He immediately reached down to pull me up. But the second I saw his hand approaching, it was like looking at a glowing red branding iron. I curled into a tight ball, wrapping my arms defensively over my head. “I’m sorry. I won’t run. Please don’t use the fire.” Joseph froze. He dropped to one knee, scooped me out from under the table, and started whispering in my ear. “Scarlett, it’s okay. We aren’t on the island anymore. As long as you are a good girl, no one is going to burn you.” He held me tight and flashed an apologetic smile to the stunned billionaires. “I am so sorry, everyone. Scarlett just got back and is still adjusting. I am going to nurse her back to health.” That night, Joseph brought me back to the master suite of his penthouse. The moment the door clicked shut, he wrapped his arms around me from behind. His warm lips pressed against the nape of my neck. “Scarlett, tonight we can finally sleep in a real bed.” His hands trailed down to my waist, carrying a very obvious, suffocating implication. My entire body turned into a block of cement. A familiar, horrifying tremor shot up my spine. His expensive cologne suddenly warped in my nostrils, smelling exactly like rotting fish and cheap tribal face paint. On the island, whenever Valerie whipped me with thorny vines until I was half-dead, the masked “Chief” would step out of the shadows. He would stroke my bleeding back exactly like this. And then, ignoring my agonizing screams and my torn flesh, he would force himself onto me in the mud. He called that brutal violation a “Master’s reward” for surviving the day. “Don’t touch me!” I screamed, violently shoving him away. I scrambled backward, falling off the bed and slamming into the corner of the room, dry heaving. Joseph’s hands hovered in the air. His face turned thunderous. But eventually, he just sighed and tossed a towel at me. “I know you need time. I won’t force you tonight.” He turned on his heel and went to the guest room. In the middle of the night, footsteps echoed in the hallway. It was just a maid going to the bathroom. But to my broken brain, it sounded exactly like the island guards doing their nightly patrols. I threw myself off the mattress, crawled into the deepest, darkest corner of the walk-in closet, and curled into a tight ball. I dug my ruined nails into the floorboards, too terrified to even breathe. On the island, the only way to survive the night without being spotted by wild animals or the savages was to sleep pressed against the freezing stone walls. Right before dawn, Joseph opened the bedroom door. He stared at the empty bed. Then, he found me huddled like a beaten stray dog in his closet. “Why are you sleeping on the floor?” he asked, frowning, reaching out to pick me up. I flinched violently and clamped my hands over the back of my neck. “Master, I wasn’t being lazy. I’ll get back to work right now.” Joseph’s hand stopped. A complicated emotion flickered in his eyes, but he aggressively scooped me up and dumped me back onto the mattress. “Scarlett, you are my wife now. You don’t have to do manual labor anymore.” The next morning, his private doctor came to do a full checkup. The blood tests confirmed it. I was two months pregnant. Joseph looked stunned for a second, then his face lit up with absolute euphoria. He crouched in front of my chair, gripping both my hands like they were a sacred treasure. “Scarlett, this is incredible. A baby is exactly what we need to anchor you. From now on, we are going to be a perfect family.” I yanked my hands out of his grip. My voice shook. “I don’t want it.” Joseph paused. His tone remained frighteningly patient. “Don’t be difficult. Your temper has gotten so much better lately. Having a baby will only help you settle down.” I stared at him, and the tears just spilled over. “Joseph, that whole year. It was you. Every night you…” I had survived on my own for two years in that jungle. In the third year, the fake tribe captured me and turned me into a slave. I couldn’t even finish the sentence. He acted like he didn’t understand the horror in my eyes. He just reached out and wiped my tears away. “Scarlett, it’s in the past. If you didn’t go through that, you never would have realized how important having a home is.” “As long as you understand the value of family now, it was all worth it.” I stopped crying instantly. So that was it. In his eyes, letting Valerie pull my nails out, raping me when my mind was shattered, training me like a literal farm animal… all of that was just “teaching me how to be a wife.” 3 Joseph drove me to the Montgomery estate. He said since we were having a baby, my parents needed to know. I hadn’t seen them in three years. I used to think that even if the whole world sided with Joseph, my own mother and father would protect me. When they saw me walk through the door, neither of them hugged me. My mother’s eyes dropped straight to my stomach. She frowned in disgust. “Pregnant before the wedding? Do you have any idea how bad this makes our family look?” Joseph stepped in smoothly. “Mrs. Montgomery, Scarlett’s situation is unique. This child is—” “I was asking her,” my mother snapped, cutting him off. She glared at me. “Three years fighting for your life, and instead of learning some grace, you come back knocked up? Haven’t you humiliated the Montgomery name enough?” My throat tightened. “Mom. It wasn’t like that. I was forced—” “Enough!” my father roared, slamming his hand on the mahogany coffee table. “Joseph already filled us in on everything.” “Do you even remember how you used to act?” “Arrogant, selfish, flipping out over nothing. You refused to listen to anyone. Threatening to break off the engagement every time Joseph tried to guide you. You were a walking PR nightmare. What man would put up with that?” “But look at you now. You swallowed some bitter pills, and you finally know how to bow your head.” I stared at the floor. All I ever wanted was to avoid an arranged marriage and build my own tech company before settling down. My mother chimed in. Her voice was quieter, but the words cut infinitely deeper. “Look at you now. You’re so quiet. So polite.” “If you had just acted like this from the start, none of this drama would have happened.” I stood frozen, my fingers going numb. “But Mom. They weren’t saving me on that island.” “Valerie used pliers to rip my fingernails out. When I tried to run, they broke my leg. And at night. At night Joseph would hold me down and…” I choked on my own words. Thick, hot tears streamed down my face. My mother just rolled her eyes. “Stop it. Talking about things like that in front of us is incredibly vulgar. And even if something did happen, that is private business between an engaged couple.” “Besides, if you really fought back, who could actually force you to do anything?” My father scoffed. “Exactly. The truth is, you just never respected the institution of marriage. Now that Joseph has finally put a leash on you, you’re throwing a tantrum.” Those words scrambled my brain like a blender. Flashbacks of the island hit me like physical blows. Valerie pressing red-hot wire against my calf, forcing me to swallow chunks of bloody, raw meat. And Joseph, sitting just a few feet away in a throne made of animal skins, watching with dead, cold eyes. As long as I refused to spread my legs and beg for him, Valerie’s torture never stopped. Every time I screamed, Joseph would just sigh and say, “She still hasn’t learned.” To stay alive, I had to crawl through the mud to his boots and beg him for mercy. And now, my own flesh and blood were asking me why I didn’t just fight back. I looked at the people who raised me, completely incapable of forming a single word. My mother stepped closer. Her tone shifted into something sickeningly comforting. “Listen to your mother.” “The most important thing for a woman is to secure a good marriage.” “Joseph spent a massive fortune and so much energy to fix your personality. That proves he truly loves you.” “With the way you used to behave, he is the only man on earth who would still want you.” “Now that you’re pregnant, stop playing the victim. Marry him, keep your mouth shut, and be a respectable society wife. Stop embarrassing us.” They knew. They knew everything. But they didn’t care about the barbaric, inhuman torture I endured. They only cared that the wild stallion had finally been broken into a docile, breeding mare. Joseph walked over and wrapped a protective arm around my shaking shoulders. “Scarlett, they just want what’s best for you. Look, we have a baby on the way. It’s time to settle down.” That night, in my childhood bedroom, I started bleeding heavily. The doctor said the emotional trauma was causing a threatened miscarriage. Joseph sat by the bed, his eyes bloodshot from stress. “Scarlett, don’t be scared. The baby will make it. Just please, for my sake and the baby’s, stop fighting me. Just behave. Please?” I lay flat on the mattress and slowly turned my head to face the blank wall. In that exact second, the very last shred of hope I had for humanity evaporated into thin air. 4 The night of the Joseph Corporation’s annual charity gala, he personally picked out my dress. A flowing white gown with a high, loose empire waist, perfectly concealing the slight bump in my stomach. As he locked a diamond necklace around my throat, his voice was as patient as a man talking to a toddler. “Scarlett, don’t be nervous tonight. After this, the whole world is going to know that you are finally fixed.” He loved using that word. “Fixed.” As if the old me, the woman who had pride and dignity, was a diseased monster that needed putting down. He held my hand tight the entire evening. He paraded me around, telling investors that while I was still recovering from the shock of the island, I was healing beautifully. Men praised me for being so gentle. Women whispered that Joseph truly knew how to tame a wild heart. Whenever he heard those comments, Joseph just smiled proudly. Halfway through the night, he led me to the grand piano in the center of the room. “Scarlett, play something for us. Mariage d’Amour. It used to be your favorite.” My entire body locked up. My fingers started to violently shake. The eight fingernails that had been ripped out had only just started growing a paper-thin layer of new keratin. Pressing them against solid piano keys would be agonizing. Joseph noticed my hesitation. He leaned down and whispered in my ear. “Don’t be scared. The only way to forget the past is to push through the pain.” He said it with such absolute conviction. As if forcing me to press my most agonizing physical wounds into my most traumatic memories was an act of profound love. I sat down. I pressed the first key. A sharp, blinding pain shot straight into my finger bones. All the color drained from my face, but I kept playing. Halfway through the song, blood started seeping from my nail beds. Little red droplets smeared across the pristine ivory keys. Joseph stood right beside the bench. His eyes were actually shining with pride. Like a strict teacher watching a slow student finally ace a test. When the song ended, the room erupted in applause. Joseph pulled me up and kissed my forehead. “Good girl.” Right then, a man in a tailored suit walked over, holding a cocktail. “Congratulations, Joseph.” I recognized that voice instantly. On the island, he was one of the fake savages. He was the one who loved making me bark like a dog for fresh water. They were all in on it. Every single one of them. The man looked at me, a nasty smirk on his face. “Miss Montgomery, care to cheers?” I kept my head bowed and offered my glass of sparkling cider. He deliberately tilted his wrist, dumping his entire martini straight into my face. Ice cold alcohol dripped from my eyelashes and soaked my hair. Without a second of hesitation, I raised my right hand and slapped myself across the face as hard as I could. Smack. I swung again. Smack. “I’m sorry. I was clumsy. I failed.” I chanted the apology mechanically. It was a reflex burned directly into my nervous system. On the island, any mistake required immediate, violent self-punishment. If I hesitated, I would be thrown into the underground water cage. The entire ballroom gasped in horror. Even the man who spilled the drink took a step back, visibly spooked. Joseph’s face went pale. He grabbed my wrists, real panic bleeding into his voice. “Scarlett, stop! No one is mad at you!” But my body wouldn’t stop violently trembling. I collapsed against his chest, and suddenly, a sharp, stabbing cramp ripped through my lower abdomen. Hot, thick liquid began pooling down my thighs. Joseph looked down, saw the dark red blood staining the hem of my white dress, and his composure completely shattered. “A doctor! Get a fucking doctor right now!” The gala devolved into pure chaos. Valerie sprinted over in her designer heels, screaming, “Why is she bleeding?!” I couldn’t stand. Joseph scooped me up into his arms, shaking like a leaf. “It’s going to be fine. The baby will be fine…” But just as he turned toward the exit, the massive projector screen at the back of the stage went completely black. A few seconds later, it flickered back to life. The footage that began to play caused several women in the room to scream in absolute terror. Joseph froze mid-step. He stared up at the giant screen, and for the very first time, I saw genuine, unadulterated terror shatter his arrogant face. And in that exact moment of distraction, I used every ounce of adrenaline left in my dying body. I grabbed a jagged, broken shard of a champagne flute from the nearest table, and violently jammed it directly into my own jugular. “Scarlett—!!” Joseph let out a sound that didn’t even sound human. I looked at him, gave him a bloody, triumphant smile, and sliced deep. Hot blood sprayed like a fountain across his immaculate white shirt. In the final second before my vision faded to black, looking at his completely destroyed, hysterical face, I felt nothing but the pure, intoxicating euphoria of revenge. Die. Once I was dead, I would never have to be his “perfect wife” ever again.

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1 When the condemned building collapsed, trapping Grandma inside, I called Jefferson twenty-nine times. Before the ceiling caved in, she’d managed to toss a knitted scarf through the rubble. “Avery, stop fighting with Jefferson over me,” she’d wheezed. “Give him this. Tell him I’m sorry for being an old fool, always causing trouble.” On the thirtieth try, he finally answered, voice dripping with impatience. “Avery, cut the dramatics. Stella’s real estate firm is facing a massive lawsuit. I’m drowning in her PR nightmare. Can your grandmother’s petty relocation dispute wait until tomorrow?” I stood before the mountain of concrete and twisted metal, icy rain slamming my face. “Jefferson. I don’t have a grandmother anymore.” A harsh scoff echoed through the receiver. “Here we go again. No shame, making up lies to force me home?” Right before he hung up, I heard Stella’s soft, trembling voice in the background. “Jefferson, they’re pressing charges. Will I go to prison? I’m so scared…” His tone shifted instantly, ice melting into pure, protective warmth. “Don’t panic. I’m the best corporate defense attorney in this city. I will never let anything happen to you.” The line went dead. I stood frozen in the rain, realizing our marriage was exactly like that hollowed-out building. The exterior looked intact, but the inside had collapsed long ago. … Jefferson finally came home. He was wearing a bespoke charcoal suit, his hair styled to perfection. He dropped his leather briefcase onto the sofa, radiating the arrogant aura of an untouchable elite lawyer. When he saw me shoving my clothes into a suitcase, his brows pulled together in a deep frown. “What exactly are you doing?” I folded a jacket and placed it neatly inside, not even bothering to look up at him. “Packing. We’re getting a divorce.” The room fell dead silent for two seconds. Jefferson strode over, snatched the jacket right out of my hands, and threw it hard onto the floor. “Are you done throwing this tantrum, Avery? Once I clear up Stella’s legal mess tomorrow, I will carve out some time next week to look into your grandmother’s housing dispute. Can you just be patient for five minutes?” I stared down at the black and white geometric rug beneath my feet. “There’s no need.” I unzipped the front pocket of my bag, pulled out the divorce papers I had already drafted, and handed them to him. Jefferson didn’t even read the cover page. He ripped the stack of papers in half, then into quarters, and threw them into the air. The shredded paper drifted to the hardwood floor like dirty snow. “Is this really necessary?” His voice spiked with anger. “First you lie about your grandmother dying, and now you’re throwing this childish fit. Can you just grow up? Look at Stella. Her entire family legacy is on the verge of collapse, but she isn’t screaming or making a scene. You can’t even compare to her. At least Stella doesn’t use her own family’s life as a cheap threat.” I opened my mouth to speak, but the exhaustion hit my bones. Defending myself felt utterly pointless. His phone buzzed. Jefferson glanced at the caller ID, and his entire demeanor softened. When he answered, his voice was pure velvet. “Stella, what’s wrong?” Stella’s tearful voice bled through the speaker, loud enough for me to hear from three feet away. “Jefferson, those rioters are back at the office. I’m terrified. They’re screaming that they want a life for a life. Can you please hurry?” “Don’t be scared. I’m on my way.” Jefferson ended the call. He grabbed his coat, turning back to glare at me one last time. “See? Stella is facing an actual crisis, but she just sheds a few tears, gathers herself, and stays strong. And speaking of her crisis, your grandmother’s little relocation dispute is exactly the same thing. It’s just a bunch of greedy squatters trying to extort more hush money. The people terrorizing Stella today are exactly like your grandmother. They get a free relocation apartment, decide it isn’t luxurious enough, and greedily demand more.” “It’s disgusting. Don’t bring your grandmother up to me again. Whenever I think of her, I just think of those extorting parasites.” The front door slammed shut. He was gone. I stood alone in the living room, staring blankly at the torn paper scattered across the rug. My grandmother’s issue had absolutely nothing to do with wanting more money. The developer had demolished her old neighborhood and promised her a brand-new unit with a clean title. But when the keys were handed over, what she got was a death trap. There was no property deed. The foundation was sinking, the load-bearing walls were spiderwebbed with massive cracks, and the entire high-rise didn’t even have a fire escape. It was a shoddy, illegal construction project. A literal house of cards. I had begged Jefferson to look at her case so many times. Every single time, he brushed me off, claiming he would “review the files later.” I had placed those legal documents on his mahogany desk at least ten times. He never opened them. Not once. But whenever Stella needed a favor, no matter how trivial, he dropped everything to play her knight in shining armor. I realized, with a numb sort of clarity, that I had made a terrible mistake marrying him. I printed a new copy of the divorce agreement. Just as I reached the bottom of the stairs at my newly rented apartment, my phone rang. “Avery, have you lost your mind?” Jefferson snarled through the receiver. “You actually showed up at my law firm to draft a divorce settlement? You did that on purpose, didn’t you? Trying to humiliate me, letting my entire partner board know my marriage is a joke. Your toxic behavior needs to stop!” I couldn’t be bothered to argue. I simply hung up. My new place was tiny. Just one bedroom and a small living area on the sixth floor of a walk-up building. But the windows faced south, and the afternoon sun poured in beautifully. I took the grey, crookedly stitched scarf my grandmother had thrown from the rubble and draped it over my headboard. It still smelled like her. Like lavender soap and old paper. It anchored my completely shattered heart. A few days later, I called the city’s disaster cleanup crew to ask when I could collect my grandmother’s recovered belongings. The clerk checked the system and replied, “Ms. Avery, we already shipped the box. It was sent to the residential address listed on your ID.” The address on my ID. The house I used to share with Jefferson. My stomach dropped. I tried calling Jefferson, but he immediately sent me to voicemail. Panic clawed at my throat. I flagged a cab and rushed back across town. When I unlocked the front door, the living room was empty. But I heard noise coming from the master bedroom. I walked down the hall and froze. Stella was standing in the middle of my bedroom. She was holding my grandmother’s antique wooden lockbox, casually turning it upside down over the floor. Everything spilled out in a chaotic clatter. My grandmother’s reading glasses. Her battered savings passbook. Faded polaroids from her youth. And an antique silver bangle she had treasured for decades, saving it to give to me on my wedding day. “What the hell are you doing?” My voice was tight, scraping against my throat. Stella turned around. When she saw me, a smug little smirk played on her lips. “Oh, you’re back? I’m just doing you a favor and clearing out some space. All this hoarding is really ruining the aesthetic of the room.” As she spoke, she picked the antique silver bangle up from the rug, tossing it carelessly in her palm. “What even is this junk? Cheap silver? You couldn’t pay a pawn shop to take this.” “Put it down.” “Why so aggressive?” Stella giggled, completely unbothered. “I’m literally throwing out your trash for you. You should be thanking me.” She casually tossed the bangle over her shoulder. It hit the drywall with a sharp, metallic crack, then bounced onto the hardwood floor, splitting cleanly into two jagged halves. “Stop it!” I lunged forward and shoved her hard by the shoulder. Stella stumbled backward, her hip bumping against the edge of the wardrobe. Instantly, her eyes filled with theatrical tears, and her voice pitched up into a fragile squeak. “Did you just hit me?” A second later, a stinging slap connected with my cheek. The force was brutal. My head snapped to the side, my ears ringing with a high-pitched whine. Jefferson was standing in the doorway. He pulled Stella into his chest, glaring at me with absolute fury. I held my burning cheek, pointing a shaking finger at the scattered mess on the floor. “She destroyed my grandmother’s belongings.” Jefferson glanced down at the broken pieces of silver. His expression didn’t even flicker. He bent down, picked up the broken halves, and dropped them into the trash can next to the dresser. “It’s a piece of junk. Are you really going to act like a lunatic over this?” Watching him throw the bangle into the garbage, something inside me completely snapped. My nose burned, and my vision blurred with hot tears. “Those were her dying possessions. They were the only pieces of her I had left. Why are you two so evil?” Jefferson’s frown deepened. “If your grandmother is actually dead, then why hasn’t it been on the news? A building collapse is a massive tragedy. You don’t think the media would cover it?” I furiously wiped my tears away. I dug into my purse, pulled out the official coroner’s death certificate, and shoved it at his chest. “Is this the proof you need, Jefferson?” “The story was obviously buried. If you actually bothered to look into it, you would know.” Stella leaned over his arm to glance at the paper. She let out a mocking laugh. “Jefferson, look at it. It’s obviously forged. Who carries a fake death certificate around in their purse? She pre-printed this just to manipulate you.” Jefferson took the certificate. He stared at it. Then he looked at it again. For a split second, I thought the reality had finally pierced his thick skull. Instead, he slapped the paper down onto the nightstand. “Avery, clean up this mess on the floor right now. If you keep using these psychotic, fabricated lies to get my attention, I will actually sign those divorce papers.” Stella leaned her head against his shoulder, her voice dropping into a pitiful whisper. “Jefferson, my hip really hurts where she pushed me. Can we just go? I don’t feel safe here.” Jefferson wrapped his arm around her waist and guided her out. Right before he crossed the threshold, he threw a final order over his shoulder. “Clean this up. The house looks like a dumpster.” My heart turned into an absolute wasteland. I knelt on the floor. One of the lenses on my grandmother’s reading glasses was shattered. I picked up her passbook. Her monthly pension was barely a few hundred dollars. She had saved every penny for six years, hoarding a little over five thousand dollars. She used to tell me she was saving that money to give as a red envelope to my future child. I picked up her photo. It was taken last Christmas. She was wearing her red winter coat, the wrinkles on her face deep and kind. I pressed the photograph against my cheek. I remembered how she raised me single-handedly, working her fingers to the bone to pay for my college tuition, never complaining a single time. I took a shaky breath. I made a vow. Even if it was the last time I ever spoke to Jefferson, I was going to use him to get justice for her. I went back to my new apartment and dug out the thick manila folder containing all of my grandmother’s evidence against the developer. Flipping to the corporate registry page, I stared at the name of the parent company. Summerset Development Corporation. Summerset. Stella Summerset. My finger stalled on the page. Then, I turned it over. I took the file straight to Jefferson’s office. His massive desk was buried under case files. When he saw me walk in, his brow furrowed out of pure habit. “Why are you here?” I dropped the heavy folder right onto his desk and looked him dead in the eye. “I am only going to ask you this one last time. Are you going to help me or not?” Jefferson opened his mouth, clearly ready to reject me. I could literally see the word “no” forming on his lips. But he glanced down at the folder. He pulled the documents out. When his eyes hit the page listing the developer’s details, he froze. Then, in a completely unprecedented move, he agreed. “Alright.” His tone was bizarrely gentle, almost coaxing. “I’ll handle this case for you. I know I haven’t been fair lately, ignoring her situation. Give me a few days, and I’ll go with you to visit your grandmother, okay? I’ll apologize to her face-to-face.” I stared at him, a sickening, twisted feeling rising in my throat. Even now, he genuinely believed she was still alive. Whatever. I didn’t have the energy to explain it to him anymore. As long as he used his legal weight to crush the developer and get justice for my grandmother, that was all that mattered. Once the lawsuit was filed, I would sign the divorce papers and vanish from his life. He could walk his golden path, and I would walk my ruined one. We would never cross paths again. I gave a curt nod. “Fine. I’m leaving it to you.” Jefferson smiled faintly, sliding the manila folder into his locked desk drawer. “Be a good girl and leave it to me.” But over the next three weeks, whenever I texted him for an update on the filing, he deflected. He kept stalling. I knew something was wrong. Jefferson was an apex predator in the legal world. He never took more than a week to transition a case from intake to a formal lawsuit. If he was stalling, it meant he had no intention of doing it at all. I decided to follow him. I sat in a parked rental car across the street from Stella’s luxury condo. I watched Jefferson walk out of her lobby, carrying the exact same manila folder I had given him. He got into the driver’s seat of his Mercedes. Stella slipped into the passenger side, laughing brightly. Jefferson must have forgotten something crucial. Months ago, after a string of break-ins in our old neighborhood, I had installed a hidden audio-monitoring dashcam in his car that synced directly to my phone. Now, I opened the app. Through the static, Stella’s excited voice rang out crystal clear. “Thank you so much, Jefferson. With this evidence shredded, I don’t have to be scared anymore.” I heard the sound of Jefferson gently ruffling her hair. “Yeah. You can sleep easy tonight.” My legs gave out. I collapsed against the steering wheel. Jefferson’s soft laughter filtered through the speaker. The afternoon sun was blinding, but I felt like I was drowning in ice water. So that was it. He never intended to help me. He just wanted to con me out of the original evidence so he could hand it directly to Stella. From the very beginning, his only priority was protecting her. I got out of my car and marched up to his Mercedes, rapping my knuckles hard against the tinted glass. Jefferson and Stella both jumped. Jefferson rolled the window down, his face tight with shock. “Avery? What are you doing here?” I ignored him, my eyes locked on the manila folder in Stella’s lap. “Give me my documents back.” Stella instinctively shoved the folder behind her back, her face morphing from shock into wide-eyed innocence. “Documents? I have no idea what you’re talking about.” “My grandmother’s legal files. Hand them over.” Jefferson unbuckled his seatbelt and stepped out of the car, physically blocking my path to Stella. “Avery, drop it.” The pain in my chest was so sharp I could barely breathe. “You stole my grandmother’s evidence to give to her. What the hell is wrong with you?” Jefferson let out a heavy, patronizing sigh, talking to me like I was an irrational toddler. “Avery, you need to listen to me. This case is infinitely more complicated than you think. Stella’s corporation is in the middle of a massive restructuring. They cannot afford a fatal negligence scandal right now. I’ve already negotiated with her. She is going to write your grandmother a massive settlement check. It’s more money than you could spend in a lifetime.” “A settlement?” I stared at him, genuinely doubting my own sanity. “Jefferson, do you have any idea what kind of building they built? It was a condemned death trap! My grandmother died crushed under that concrete! And you want me to take hush money?!” “Calm down,” Jefferson snapped, his patience fraying. “Stop using such dramatic language. I’ve personally reviewed the blueprints for Stella’s project. The permits were legal, the quality passed inspection. If that specific building failed, it was a localized issue with the sub-contractors. It has absolutely no direct connection to Stella’s family.” “No direct connection? Their corporate seal is stamped on the contract! Are you insane?” Jefferson’s face hardened into pure disgust. “Avery, cut the crap. You just want a payout. I’ll get Stella to cut the check. What’s your price? Half a million? A million? Just name a number and walk away.” “I don’t want her dirty money. I’m calling the police.” I pulled my phone out and started dialing. Jefferson lunged forward and snatched the phone violently out of my hand. His voice was laced with venom. “Avery, don’t push your luck. Stella’s family finally has this PR nightmare under control. Are you really trying to bankrupt an innocent girl just because you’re bitter? Let me make this crystal clear: her company does not build shoddy structures. This is a targeted smear campaign against her. Your grandmother just had bad luck. The building just happened to collapse.” Just happened to. Bad luck. I stared at the man I had married. It felt like I was looking at a complete stranger. A heavy, absolute exhaustion washed over me. But strangely, the exhaustion brought clarity. I reached into my bag, pulled out the folded divorce agreement, and threw it directly at his chest. “Keep the settlement money. We are getting a divorce.” Jefferson caught the paper, a cruel smirk twisting his lips. “You carry this around with you just so you can use it to threaten me every time you don’t get your way?” He pulled a silver pen from his breast pocket, clicked it, and aggressively signed his name. “Fine. We’re done. Let’s see how long you survive out there.” I reached out to grab the signed document, but his hand shot out, his fingers locking around my wrist like a vice. “Avery, you better think this through. Without me, you have absolutely nothing. No job, no house, no savings. How exactly do you plan on feeding yourself?” “Let go of me.” “I am telling you, outside of this marriage, you are a nobody.” “I said, let go.” His grip tightened painfully, his knuckles turning white. I yanked my arm back with everything I had. He violently shoved me away. I stumbled backward in my heels. My lower back slammed brutally against the sharp metal corner of a city trash can. A blinding flash of agony ripped through my spine. The world tilted, and I crashed heavily onto the concrete pavement. Jefferson looked down at me. He didn’t even twitch to help me up. He just turned around, grabbed Stella’s hand, and sneered. “Let’s go. Leave her to her theatrics.” Stella glanced back at me through the window, a victorious little smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. The Mercedes roared to life and sped off, leaving me completely alone. I lay curled on the pavement. A violent, tearing cramp seized my lower abdomen. A thick, terrifying warmth began pooling down my thighs. I reached down with a trembling hand. My fingers came back coated in bright, sticky red. Right before the darkness swallowed me, only one thought echoed in my fading consciousness. Jefferson. Whatever love tied us together is dead. It died today, right alongside my grandmother and my unborn child. From this day until my last, you are nothing but a ghost to me.

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1 “I am not asking you to pay me back for the surgery. I actually have a grandson right around your age. How about I set you two up?” The old woman in the hospital bed looked terrifyingly pale, but she gripped my hand with a stubborn, totally unreasonable smile. I was sweating bullets. “Please do not joke around like that, ma’am,” my voice literally shook. “I just got fired from my job. I borrowed that fifteen grand to cover your emergency surgery deposit. Once your family gets here, please just wire it back to me. I do not even have rent money for next month.” The old lady waved her hand like it was absolutely nothing. “What are you panicking for? My grandson is loaded. I will make him pay you back with interest.” Thirty minutes later, the hospital room door slammed open. “Grandma! What happened? Why are you in the ER?” The voice was a tense mix of panic and suppressed rage. I turned around on pure instinct. The second our eyes locked, the room went so dead silent you could hear the IV drip echoing. We both froze completely. Because the man standing in the doorway was Adam Blackwood. The exact same CEO who, exactly three hours ago, ripped my medical receipt to shreds in front of two hundred executives and told me to get the hell out of his company. 2 My name was Willow Quinn. I was the most invisible corporate drone in the Strategy Department of Blackwood Group. How invisible? The security guards downstairs knew the faces of the local delivery drivers, but they could never remember which floor I worked on. I was always the first to arrive and the last to leave. If the coffee machine broke, I submitted the maintenance ticket. If the projector malfunctioned, I was the one crawling under the table to fix the cables. If a department suddenly needed an emergency brief, everyone’s first instinct was to yell my name. Because I was useful. And because I was too terrified to say no. My mom ran a tiny food truck back in my hometown, selling breakfast sandwiches rain or shine for over a decade. Last year, she was diagnosed with severe kidney disease. Her monthly medical bills were a bottomless black hole. I had zero safety net. My probationary salary at Blackwood Group was barely enough to scrape by, but if I became a permanent employee, the pay bump and the year-end bonus meant my mom could afford her medication next month. To anyone else in this building, it was just a number. To me, it was literal survival. On my first day, my supervisor Brenda tossed a massive stack of files onto my chest. “Willow, Adam absolutely despises incompetence.” She tapped her cherry-red acrylic nails against my cheap plastic name tag. “You went to a no-name state college. The only reason you got your foot in the door is because HR took pity on you. Do not start thinking you are actually someone important here.” I nodded. “I will work hard, Brenda.” She let out a sharp, mocking laugh. “Hard work is useless. This building is packed with people who work hard. What we need are people who make the CEO look good.” A soft, melodic laugh drifted over from the next desk. “Brenda, stop scaring her. What if she cries?” That was Lily. She was the new executive assistant to the CEO. Ivy League graduate, stunningly gorgeous, and always spoke in this gentle, breathy voice. Naturally, the entire office revolved around her. Rumor had it she and Adam grew up together. Rumor also had it she was practically one ring away from becoming the future Mrs. Blackwood. The way Brenda looked at Lily was entirely different from how she looked at me. “Lily, you are too sweet, but corporate is not a charity. Give girls like her an inch, and they forget their place.” Lily slid a cup of expensive coffee across the desk toward me. “Do not mind her, Willow. Brenda just wants you to succeed. Adam has insanely high standards, so just shadow me and you will learn.” I reached for the coffee. The scalding liquid spilled slightly, burning the back of my hand. She saw it and did not warn me. Brenda saw it too and just rolled her eyes. “Why are you spacing out? Get those bidding documents to the twenty-eighth floor before nine-thirty.” I grabbed the binders and ran. 3 That was the very first time I met Adam Blackwood. The conference room on the twenty-eighth floor was massive. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the most expensive real estate in the city. Adam sat at the head of the table. He wore a tailored black suit, his tie knotted with absolute, ruthless precision. He did not even glance at me, only scanning the document I placed in front of him. “Who put this together?” I opened my mouth to speak, but Lily confidently strolled into the room. “Adam, the Strategy team and I finalized it this morning. Willow just ran the errand to bring it up.” Adam flipped through two more pages. “The logic is clean.” Lily beamed. “I am glad you like it. I was so worried it would not meet your standards.” I stood frozen by the door, clutching the backup data in my hands. I had stayed up until 3 AM for three nights straight to write that proposal. Lily had literally only changed a single comma on the final page. Adam finally lifted his eyes and looked at me. “Do you need something?” My throat went completely dry. “Mr. Blackwood, regarding the foot traffic projections for the Vanguard Center project, there is a supplemental data sheet right here. I thought…” Brenda cleared her throat loudly from the hallway. Lily smiled and smoothly cut me off. “Willow, you can head back downstairs. I will walk Adam through the supplemental data right now.” Adam looked away from me. “Get out.” I swallowed my words, turned around, and walked out. The second the heavy glass doors clicked shut, I heard Brenda hissing at me. “You have zero situational awareness. Do you have any idea who is sitting in that room?” That night, Lily used my proposal to present at the internal town hall. Adam publicly praised her. The entire room erupted into applause. Brenda stood up, grinning from ear to ear. “Lily has only been here for three months, and she is already delivering senior-level results. Mr. Blackwood definitely has an eye for talent.” Adam leaned back in his chair. “Lily will be the lead coordinator for the Vanguard Center bidding war.” The applause grew deafening. I sat in the very back row, my fingernails digging sharp crescent moons into my palms. My desk neighbor, Zoe, leaned over and whispered. “Did you not pull all-nighters for that exact file?” I looked at Lily on the stage. She was smiling down at Adam, looking completely pure and harmless. “Drop it,” I whispered back. Zoe angrily slammed her pen onto her notebook. “Why? She steals your work to show off, and you are just going to sit here and clap for her?” I did not clap. Brenda noticed. After the meeting, she cornered me in the breakroom. “Willow, what exactly was that attitude out there?” “I did not have an attitude.” “No attitude?” She slammed her ceramic mug onto the counter. “Lily gets recognized by the CEO, and you sit there looking like someone died. Who do you think you are?” “I wrote that proposal.” Footsteps paused right outside the breakroom door. Brenda looked at me like I had just told a hilarious joke. “You wrote it? Prove it.” I pulled out my phone and opened the cloud document’s version history. Brenda did not even look at the screen. She just reached out and shoved my phone down. “Listen to me very carefully. In this company, whoever Adam credits is the one who gets the glory. You are a disposable temp making pennies. Stop daydreaming.” Lily walked in. She was holding a sleek water bottle, her tone as soft as ever. “Brenda, let it go. Willow is probably just exhausted.” I stared right into her eyes. “Lily. You know exactly who wrote that file.” She paused for a fraction of a second before smiling warmly. “Willow, there is no need to aggressively divide team efforts like this. You will understand how corporate works eventually.” Brenda instantly chimed in. “Did you hear that? Lily is still covering for you after you disrespected her. If you throw another tantrum, I will have HR escort you out tomorrow.” I shut my mouth. I needed this paycheck. 4 Late that night, I took the last bus back to the rundown apartment complex on the edge of the city. Underneath a flickering streetlamp by the alley, an old woman was squatting on the curb, flattening cardboard boxes. She wore a faded gray jacket that looked entirely out of place in the cold wind. She saw me walking by and waved me over. “Sweetheart, could you take a look at my phone? I cannot make any calls.” I walked over and checked her screen. The carrier notification popped up immediately. “Ma’am, your phone service got suspended. You are out of minutes.” She patted her empty pockets, looking thoroughly embarrassed. “I completely forgot to pay the bill. Could you possibly top it up with twenty bucks for me? I swear I will pay you back tomorrow.” I hesitated. I had only eaten a single plain bagel for dinner to save money. But looking at her shivering shoulders, I ended up paying fifty dollars into her account. The old lady stared at the confirmation text for a long time. “What is your name, sweetheart?” “Willow Quinn.” “Like the tree?” “Yes. Like the tree.” She nodded slowly. “That is a good, strong name. Branches and leaves. You bend, but you do not break. You will survive anything.” I smiled politely, not thinking much of it. 5 The next morning, Brenda ordered me to print and bind three hundred copies of the project materials. The massive industrial printer jammed. I was kneeling on the floor, ripping open the paper trays, when Lily walked over in her designer heels. “Willow, are the documents ready for the ten o’clock Vanguard bidding meeting?” “Yes,” I said, wiping toner off my hands. “Digital and physical copies are all set up in the main conference room.” She leaned down, lowering her voice so only I could hear. “Do not be mad at me for not defending you yesterday. Adam hates employees who fight over credit. I was just trying to keep you off his radar so he would not fire you.” I yanked the jammed paper out of the rollers. “Lily, I just want to do my job.” She sighed softly, like she was talking to a stubborn child. “You are just too young to get it.” By 9:50 AM, Adam and the executives filed into the conference room. The representatives from Vanguard Center were already seated. I stood strictly by the door, my only job was to hand out supplemental files if needed. Lily sat to Adam’s right. As she opened the master binder, the color completely drained from her face. She whipped her head around to look at me. “Willow, where is Appendix C?” I froze. “Appendix C is in the second blue folder.” “It is not here.” She shoved the binder to the center of the mahogany table. A critical page was completely missing. Adam looked up, his eyes turning to ice. “What is going on?” Brenda instantly jumped out of her seat. “Mr. Blackwood, Willow Quinn was solely responsible for assembling these binders.” A dozen heavy, judgmental stares locked onto me. I practically sprinted to the table and flipped through the folder. Appendix C was actually gone. It was the most critical page detailing our entire budget breakdown. I had personally hole-punched it and placed it there last night. Lily’s voice started to tremble with panic. “Willow, I reminded you three separate times yesterday that this specific page could not be left out. How could you make such a massive mistake?” I stared at her. “You never reminded me.” Her eyes instantly welled up with tears. “I know you have a grudge against me over the proposal credit, but a multi-million dollar bidding war is not the place to throw a tantrum.” Adam’s face darkened like a thundercloud. “Willow Quinn.” I looked at him. “Get out,” he ordered. “Mr. Blackwood, I have the backup files on my laptop. I can print them right now and—” “I said, get out.” He did not even raise his voice, but the entire room fell dead silent. Brenda marched over and dug her acrylic nails into my arm. “Have you not embarrassed us enough? Get out.” She practically dragged me into the hallway. Just before the doors closed, I saw Lily pulling up a document on her sleek tablet. “Adam, I kept a backup version on my personal drive just in case. Let’s cast my screen to the projector.” Adam looked at her, his expression softening slightly. “Good work.” The door clicked shut. I stood in the sterile hallway. Red crescent marks were digging into my forearm where Brenda had grabbed me. Zoe sprinted out from her cubicle. “What happened?” Brenda pointed a manicured finger at my face. “She intentionally sabotaged the files. She almost cost us the entire bid.” Zoe’s eyes went wide. “That is impossible. I literally watched Willow put Appendix C into those folders before she clocked out last night.” Brenda sneered. “Who cares what you saw? Adam only cares about results.” I stared at the frosted glass of the conference room. Through the heavy doors, I could hear Adam’s steady, authoritative voice. “Let’s continue.” My existence was so worthless to him that it did not even warrant a five-minute pause. 6 When the meeting wrapped up, Lily was universally hailed as the savior of the day. Adam stood in front of the executive team and announced, “Lily’s crisis management was flawless. The Strategy Department is getting a double bonus this month.” Brenda led the standing ovation. People were looking at me like I was toxic waste. Zoe could not hold it in anymore. “Mr. Blackwood, Appendix C was absolutely in those folders last night. I watched Willow pack them.” Brenda snapped instantly. “Zoe, are you seriously trying to commit perjury for her?” Zoe’s face turned bright red. “It is not perjury. It is the truth.” Lily stood up gracefully. “Let it go, everyone. Willow was probably just overwhelmed and made a careless mistake under pressure. Adam, please do not punish her too harshly.” Adam turned his piercing gaze to me. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?” I held out my phone. “These are the timestamped photos I took of the assembled binders at 10 PM last night. Appendix C is clearly visible. There is also a security camera right outside the conference room. Check the footage between 9:40 and 10:00 AM. Whoever touched those files will be on tape.” Brenda’s face twitched nervously. Lily’s hand hovered over the binders before slowly pulling back. Adam did not even glance at my phone screen. “We are not checking the cameras.” “Why not?” I asked, my voice cracking. He looked at Lily. “Because I trust her.” Those three words hit harder than a physical blow to the face. Lily lowered her head, looking like a fragile angel who had just been deeply wronged. Brenda immediately sucked up to him. “You are totally right, sir. Keeping someone as toxic as Willow around is a massive liability.” Adam looked down at me with pure disdain. “Deduct her monthly bonus. One more incident, and you are packing your desk.” I did not even have a bonus to deduct. Probationary employees did not get bonuses. He did not even know that. I turned around and walked back to my cubicle. Zoe followed me, shaking with pure rage. “Why the hell won’t he check the cameras? He believes whatever garbage Lily feeds him. Is he legally blind?” I booted up my computer. “Stop talking, Zoe.” “You are just going to swallow this?” I re-saved Appendix C onto the shared drive. My voice dropped to a hollow whisper. “I have not bought my mom’s kidney medication for this month yet.” Zoe went completely quiet. 7 At 5:00 PM, my phone buzzed with an automated text from the hospital. My mom’s checkup fees had just increased again. I stared at the glowing screen until my eyes burned. I stood up and walked toward the breakroom to get some water. And then I saw her. The old lady from the alleyway was sitting right in the middle of the corporate lobby. She had changed into a cheap, gray utility jacket. A worn-out canvas bag rested at her feet. She looked completely lost. The front desk receptionist was actively blocking her. “Ma’am, you cannot go upstairs without an appointment.” The old lady replied firmly, “I am looking for Adam Blackwood.” The receptionist scoffed. “Yeah, you and half the city. Stop causing a scene.” I quickly walked over. “Ma’am, what are you doing here?” Her eyes lit up the second she saw me. “Willow! I came to find my grandson.” The receptionist shot me a dirty look. “Willow, you know this crazy lady?” I nodded. “Her phone died the other night. I helped her out.” The receptionist rolled her eyes dramatically. “Then get her out of here before you ruin the company’s image.” The old lady slowly tried to stand up, but her canvas bag slid off her lap. A small plastic pillbox spilled onto the marble floor. I bent down to pick it up. When I saw the medication label and the dosage instructions, my stomach dropped. “Are you feeling okay?” I asked, grabbing her arm. She waved me off. “Just old age. I am fine.” The exact moment those words left her mouth, her entire body collapsed sideways. I lunged and caught her. She gripped my blazer sleeve with a death grip, her other hand clutching her chest. Her lips were turning a terrifying shade of blue. The receptionist screamed and jumped back. “Do not look at me! I did not touch her!” “Call 911!” I screamed. Nobody moved. A crowd of corporate employees formed a circle around us. Some people even pulled out their phones to record. I ripped my phone out of my pocket with one hand and dialed emergency services. “I am at the Blackwood Group headquarters lobby. An elderly woman is having a severe heart attack. Send an ambulance immediately.” The receptionist hissed at me, her voice dripping with venom. “Are you insane? An ambulance parking outside the glass doors is awful PR! Adam is going to lose his mind when he finds out.” I glared at her. “If she dies on this marble floor, that is awful PR.” The ambulance sirens wailed just as the private executive elevator dinged open. Adam and Lily stepped out into the chaotic lobby. Lily gasped, covering her mouth. “What is going on? Why are paramedics here?” Brenda elbowed her way to the front. “Mr. Blackwood! It is Willow! She dragged some homeless woman who collects cardboard into the lobby, and now the woman is having a medical episode. She is causing a massive scene.” Adam’s freezing gaze locked onto me. I was kneeling on the floor, holding the old woman’s wrist to check her pulse while rapidly relaying her symptoms to the paramedics. “Are there any family members present?” the paramedic asked. “We cannot reach them right now,” I said quickly. “I will ride in the ambulance with her.” “Willow Quinn.” Adam’s voice cut through the chaos like a knife. I looked up. “The final round of the Vanguard Plaza bidding war starts in exactly ten minutes,” he said coldly. “The final version of the pitch deck you were assigned to review has not been delivered to the boardroom.” “Mr. Blackwood, she is in critical condition.” Adam glanced at the old woman on the stretcher. His face was carved out of stone. “Hospitals have doctors. Blackwood Group is not a charity shelter.” I clutched the old lady’s spilled pillbox tightly against my chest. “I will ride with her to the ER to sign her in, and I will rush straight back.” Lily stepped forward, her voice soft and full of fake concern. “Willow, this meeting is crucial. You already messed up once today. Do not be dramatic and ruin everything.” I looked down at the old lady. She was slipping out of consciousness, unable to even speak. “Are you coming or not?” the paramedic yelled. “Every second counts with cardiac arrest!” I did not look at Adam again. “I am coming.” As I stepped toward the doors, Adam’s voice echoed behind me. “If you walk out those doors today, do not bother coming back.” My footsteps faltered for a fraction of a second. Zoe was standing in the crowd, tears streaming down her face. “Willow…” “The physical binders are in the blue folder on the left side of my desk,” I told Zoe loudly. “The digital master file is on the shared drive. It is labeled ‘Final_V2’.” Brenda scoffed loudly. “Listen to her giving orders like she owns the place.” I climbed into the back of the ambulance. Right before the heavy doors slammed shut, I saw Adam standing in the pristine lobby, looking absolutely furious. Lily stood practically plastered to his side, whispering something into his ear. He did not look at me again. 8 Outside the emergency operating room, I swiped my debit card for the absolute final time. My bank balance dropped to $37.60. “It is a good thing you got her here when you did,” the ER doctor said, handing me a clipboard. “Five more minutes and she would have been gone. Sign here.” My hands were sweating so badly the pen kept slipping. “I am just a friend. Am I legally allowed to sign for surgery?” The doctor gave me a grim look. “We save the life first. The deposit is paid, you sign as the emergency contact, and we figure out the rest later.” Fifteen grand. I had maxed out every credit card, drained my savings, and taken out micro-loans. My phone kept buzzing with terrifying repayment notifications. I did not dare open them. The red surgical light stayed on for four agonizing hours. I sat on the cold plastic bench in the hallway, still wearing my Blackwood Group employee lanyard. At 7:00 PM, Zoe called me. “Willow, where are you?” “The hospital.” There was a heavy echo in the background. She was hiding in a stairwell. “The bid was a total disaster.” I closed my eyes. “How bad?” “Vanguard’s reps walked out mid-presentation. They said we were wildly unprepared. Adam absolutely detonated in the boardroom.” “Did they not find the files on my desk?” I asked. Zoe cursed under her breath. “They found them. But Brenda swore you purposely did not do a formal handover to sabotage the team. Lily tried to use her ‘backup’ version again, but the pricing metrics were completely blank.” “The master file was on the shared drive.” “The shared drive got wiped.” I sat up completely straight. “Who wiped it?” Zoe lowered her voice to a terrified whisper. “I do not know for sure. But IT said the deletion command came from your employee ID login.” I stared at the glowing red light above the operating room. “I left my computer unlocked when the ambulance arrived.” “Brenda is currently swearing up and down that you deleted the files as revenge against the company,” Zoe said, her voice shaking. “Adam ordered HR to process your termination paperwork tomorrow morning. And…” She choked on her words. “And what?” “He said Blackwood Group is sending a blackball notice to every major corporation in the state. Nobody will ever hire you again.” A nurse pushed a loud metal cart down the hallway. The wheels rattled aggressively against the tile. “I understand,” I said numbly. Zoe panicked. “Why are you so calm?! Willow, he is literally destroying your entire career!” I looked down at the massive hospital receipt in my hand. “The old lady is still in surgery.” Zoe went dead silent for a few seconds before cursing viciously. “Adam Blackwood is a monster.” After I hung up, I walked into the hospital bathroom and splashed freezing water on my face. The girl in the mirror looked like a ghost. The corporate lanyard still hung heavily around her neck. Willow Quinn. Blackwood Group. The letters were printed perfectly straight. I unclipped the lanyard and shoved it into my pocket. At 1:00 AM, the surgical doors finally swung open. “The surgery was a success, but the next 24 hours are critical,” the surgeon said. “Did you manage to reach her family?” I shook my head. The old lady was still unconscious. I slept in a hard plastic chair next to her bed for the rest of the night. When the sun came up, my phone rang aggressively. It was Brenda. I answered it. She started screaming instantly. “Where the hell are you playing dead?! Adam wants you in the building by 9:00 AM sharp.” “I am at the hospital.” “Do you really have the nerve to use that excuse again?” Brenda’s voice was shrill enough to shatter glass. “Do you have any concept of how many millions you cost us yesterday? Adam called an all-hands meeting. You are going to stand on that stage and publicly apologize to the entire company.” “I did not delete the shared drive.” “Who cares if you deleted it?! Your login was used, so you take the fall.” I glanced at the fragile woman hooked up to the monitors. “I cannot leave right now.” Brenda laughed maliciously. “Fine. Do not show up. Adam said if you do not come, he will personally email your termination notice and your sabotage record to the CEO of every partner agency we work with.” I tightened my grip on the phone. “I will be there.” 9 At 9:50 AM, I walked through the glass doors of Blackwood Group. The town hall meeting had already started. Over two hundred executives, directors, and corporate staff were packed into the grand auditorium. The massive projector screen displayed a slide detailing the catastrophic failure of the Vanguard Plaza bid. When I pushed the doors open, every single head turned to look at me. Adam stood on the stage. Lily sat in the front row, looking perfectly poised. Brenda hovered off to the side, vibrating with excitement like she was watching reality TV. Adam picked up the microphone. “Willow Quinn.” I stopped right in the middle of the center aisle. He looked down at me from the stage. “Because you abandoned your post, Blackwood Group lost the Vanguard project. Because you maliciously deleted company data, our crisis management completely failed.” I tilted my chin up. “I never maliciously deleted any data.” Brenda grabbed a mic from the side. “The digital footprint literally has your name on it! Are you still trying to lie?” Lily stood up gracefully, holding her hands together. “Willow, if you just admit what you did, maybe Adam will show you some mercy. We all know you are struggling financially, but poverty is not an excuse to sabotage the company.” I stared right through her. “Lily, who physically removed Appendix C from my desk?” Her soft, angelic expression cracked slightly. “What are you talking about?” “Who used my computer to wipe the shared drive?” Brenda stormed down the aisle and violently snatched my tote bag off my shoulder. “Are you seriously trying to frame Lily now?!” She aggressively dumped the contents of my bag onto an empty chair. The hospital receipt fluttered to the ground. Brenda snatched it up, squinted at it, and burst out laughing. “Fifteen grand for a surgery deposit? Wow, Willow, you really committed to the bit. You forged a fake medical receipt just to dodge getting fired?” I lunged forward to grab it back. She yanked her hand up high, waving it like a trophy. “Look at this, everyone! She claims she left to save a life! Whose life? Some homeless beggar who collects trash? It is absolutely pathetic.” Laughter rippled through the auditorium. People were whispering and shaking their heads. Zoe shot out of her seat in the back row. “Brenda, give her back the receipt!” Brenda slammed the piece of paper onto a desk. “I will give it back to her when she stands on that stage and admits she ruined the Vanguard bid because she was off running personal errands.” Adam slowly walked down the steps from the stage. He stopped right in front of me and picked up the receipt. For a second, I genuinely thought he might look at the hospital stamp and ask a single question. Instead, he glanced at the fifteen-thousand-dollar total, grabbed both ends of the paper, and ripped it straight down the middle. He ripped it again. And again. The confetti-like pieces drifted down and landed on my shoes. “Willow Quinn,” Adam said, his voice void of any human emotion. “Blackwood Group pays employees to work, not to play savior on company time.” I stared at the shredded paper on the carpet. “Mr. Blackwood. That was a human life.” “I run a corporation, not a church.” He unclipped my employee badge from his hand and tossed it onto the table. “You are officially terminated.” The auditorium was dead silent. He continued, his voice ringing through the room. “You are permanently banned from every Blackwood subsidiary. I will personally make the phone calls to ensure our partner agencies never hire you.” Zoe screamed from the back. “Mr. Blackwood, you cannot do this to her!” Adam did not even look in her direction. “Anyone who defends her will be packing their bags with her.” Zoe’s coworkers practically tackled her, covering her mouth to keep her quiet. Lily sighed softly, looking at me with absolute pity. “Just leave, Willow. Stop humiliating yourself.” I slowly crouched down and began picking up the shredded pieces of the receipt. Brenda backed away, acting like I was infectious. “Still picking up trash? Think of that fifteen grand as tuition for a life lesson. Stop pretending to be a saint.” I clenched the shredded paper tightly in my fist and stood up. Adam gestured coldly to the back. “Security.” Two massive security guards marched down the aisle. I looked Adam dead in the eyes. “Adam Blackwood. I hope you never regret this.” He let out a short, dismissive breath, like he was swatting a fly. “Take her out.” The guards grabbed my arms and hauled me out of the auditorium. As I was dragged backward, Lily’s sickly sweet voice drifted through the closing doors. “Adam, please do not let this ruin your day. I will work overtime to rebuild the data files.” “Thank you, Lily,” Adam replied. “I appreciate it.” The doors slammed shut.

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1 The day Mom was wheeled into the ICU, Joanna lent me nothing. “My capital is for venture investments, not bottomless pits,” she said coldly. “I sent you some low-interest loan links. Figure it out.” I crouched in the stairwell, medical bills in hand, listening as she talked by the window. “That five million in seed funding hit your account,” she told Noah, her firm’s new trainee. “Even if the startup fails, I’ll cover it. Consider it practice.” My fingers tightened around the crumpled bills until my nails drew blood. Joanna turned and saw me. No tears, no tantrums, no begging. She nodded, satisfied. “Good. Stop acting like a child. Being independent means taking responsibility.” I gave her a hollow nod. She walked away without another glance. In that moment, my heart truly died. No tears, no screams, not even the energy to ask why. I pulled out the divorce papers I’d drafted weeks ago and signed my name, stroke by stroke. From now on, her life was hers, and mine was mine. Joanna didn’t get home until almost one in the morning. I was sitting at the kitchen island. Spread out in front of me were the hospital bills, the critical condition notices, and those signed divorce papers. She walked in, saw me, and just frowned. “Why are you still awake?” I looked up at her. “My mom is in the ICU.” She hung her tailored coat on the rack and walked over to the minibar to pour a glass of water. “I’m aware.” Her tone was as casual as if she were commenting on the rain outside. I stared at the glass in her hand. My mind drifted back to the hospital corridor that afternoon. I remembered exactly how pathetic I looked when I begged her for the cash. I had said, Joanna, just three hundred thousand. Please. It’s to save her life. And she had said, Cole, you need to learn to accept reality. Then she turned around and dropped five million on Noah without blinking. I thought I was entirely numb by now. But seeing her stand in our kitchen, acting like absolutely nothing had happened, still felt like taking a sledgehammer to the chest. Joanna finished her water and let her gaze drop to the kitchen island. “What is all this?” “Divorce papers.” Her hand froze. A few seconds passed. She let out a scoff, like she had just heard the most ridiculous joke of the year. “Cole, what kind of tantrum are you throwing now?” I pushed the papers across the marble counter. “I’ve already signed.” She didn’t pick them up. She just stared at my signature, the temperature in her eyes dropping by the second. “Is this because I wouldn’t lend you the money?” “No.” My voice was terribly quiet. “It’s because I finally realized today that it’s not that you don’t have the money. It’s not that you don’t know how to help people.” “You just don’t want to help me.” Joanna’s expression darkened. “Noah’s project is a corporate investment. It has nothing to do with personal feelings.” “I read the contract,” I said, meeting her cold stare. “The funds came from your personal account. You acted as the sole guarantor. If he goes under, you eat the losses.” “You call that a corporate investment?” A flicker of irritation crossed her eyes. “You went through my things?” I let out a dry, broken laugh. Her first instinct wasn’t to explain herself. It was to blame me for finding out. Joanna slammed her glass onto the counter. “You are completely out of control right now, Cole. I am not having this conversation with you.” “I get that you’re stressed about your mother, but you don’t get to use me as your emotional punching bag.” I looked right at her. “She is the woman you’ve called ‘Mom’ for the last six years.” Joanna broke eye contact. “I never said I wouldn’t care.” “I just don’t think it’s wise to sink money into a black hole with no guaranteed return.” She stopped, perhaps realizing how incredibly cruel that sounded, and quickly tacked on an amendment. “I can help you contact some top-tier specialists. I can make some calls.” “But the money? You need to figure that out on your own.” My stomach churned with violent nausea. I stood up, gathered the divorce papers, and slid them back into the manila envelope. “Tomorrow morning. Ten o’clock at the courthouse.” Joanna stared at me for a long, heavy minute. “Cole, if you leave me, how exactly are you going to pay for your mother’s treatment?” The moment those words hung in the air, my fingers curled into tight fists. She knew exactly what terrified me the most. She knew exactly how desperate I was. And she was using my dying mother as leverage to force me to my knees. I raised my eyes. “I’ll figure it out on my own.” Joanna’s face hardened, clearly stung by my absolute dismissal. “Then you’d better not come crawling back to me.” I didn’t waste another breath on her. I turned and walked into the guest bedroom. Right before the door clicked shut, I heard her phone ring in the living room. She answered it, her voice softening instantly. “Noah? Yeah, I reviewed the pitch deck.” “Don’t be nervous. I’ll be right there in the front row tomorrow.” I pressed my back against the closed door and slowly slid down to the floor. A dull, pulling ache settled deep in my lower abdomen. With the chaos of my mother’s hospitalization, I had completely missed my last prenatal appointment. My phone screen lit up with an automated text from the clinic. Mr. Cole, please remember to schedule your ultrasound checkup. I stared at that glowing line of text for a long time. Then, I turned the screen off. 2 Joanna didn’t show up at the courthouse. I waited for two hours. I called her three times. She never picked up. It wasn’t until eleven-thirty that a text finally came through. Noah’s pitch is today. I’m tied up. A second message popped up immediately after. If you really want this divorce, get a lawyer and sue me. I stood on the courthouse steps, clutching my queue ticket. The cold wind whipped off the pavement, stinging my eyes until they watered. I didn’t reply. I just turned around and took a cab straight to the hospital. The doctor’s face was grim. My mom’s vitals were crashing. Because I hadn’t topped up the deposit yesterday, they had to drop her back to the basic medication protocol. “You need to settle the balance as soon as possible,” the doctor warned softly. “Every hour we delay the targeted treatment, the risks multiply.” I kept my head down and mumbled an agreement. I immediately listed the small bachelor pad I bought before I got married for emergency sale. Then, I maxed out every single credit card to my name. The real estate agent was dead silent for a few seconds when he heard my asking price. “Cole, this price is insanely low.” “Can we close today?” “I mean, yes, it’ll fly off the market. But are you absolutely sure?” “I’m sure.” After hanging up, I squatted in the hospital stairwell, my palms slick with cold sweat. A notification popped up. Noah had posted a new update on Instagram. The photo showed him standing on a brightly lit stage in a sharp white suit. Joanna was sitting in the front row, looking up at him with a gentle, patient gaze I hadn’t seen directed at me in years. The caption read: Having someone catch you when you fall on your first startup attempt. So this is what it feels like to be chosen. Someone commented: The CEO totally spoils you. Noah replied: She just said she didn’t want to see me lose too badly. I stared at those words until the blood in my fingertips went ice cold. Joanna showed up at the hospital that afternoon. She stood in the sterile hallway, looking pristine in her designer suit, holding a crisp manila folder. “I had my assistant compile a list of reputable lending platforms,” she said. “A few of them offer high approval limits. You can use them to tide you over.” I stared at the folder but didn’t reach for it. She shoved it directly into my hands. “It’s your decision. You figure out the money.” With that, she turned on her heel and walked away. I looked down at the carefully printed loan documents. I ripped them into tiny pieces and dumped them into the biohazard bin. A few minutes later, a nurse sprinted out of the double doors. “Cole! Her blood pressure is tanking! The doctor needs your signature for resuscitation right now!” My legs gave out. I had to brace myself against the wall just to stay upright. My stomach cramped again. This time, the pain was significantly sharper than the night before. 3 They spent four hours keeping my mother alive. When the doctor finally came out, he didn’t even pull his mask down. “She’s stabilized for now. But you absolutely cannot let the payments lapse again.” I nodded, my throat so dry I couldn’t form words. The condo contract was signed that very night. Because the price was a steal, the buyer wired the deposit without a second thought. The second the funds cleared, I ran to the billing window. The clerk looked up from the screen. “Just you here?” I gave a short nod. “Where’s your wife?” I didn’t answer. At that moment, an overwhelming wave of humiliation washed over me. I was legally married, yet I felt like an orphan standing there with absolutely no one to lean on. I went back to the house that night to grab my personal identification documents. The moment I pushed the front door open, I heard a man’s bright laughter echoing from the living room. Noah was sitting on our expensive sofa. A massive, custom celebration cake rested on the coffee table. Joanna was leaning over, carefully slicing the cake for him. Noah jumped up the second he saw me. “Oh, Cole. You’re home.” He sounded so perfectly innocent. But I couldn’t take my eyes off his wrist. He was wearing a brand-new, diamond-encrusted watch. I recognized that watch. Last month, on my birthday, I had lingered a bit too long looking at it in a luxury boutique. Joanna had pulled me away, saying, The markup on that is ridiculous. It really doesn’t suit your vibe anyway. Now, it was gleaming on Noah’s wrist. Joanna frowned at me. “Why are you back?” I met her eyes. “This is my house.” Noah’s expression stiffened. Joanna set the cake knife down. “Noah’s pitch was a massive success today. I brought him back to grab some reference files and we’re just celebrating.” Just celebrating. My mother was hooked up to breathing tubes in the ICU. I had just sold my last safety net to buy her another day of life. And my wife was in our living room, throwing a party for another man. Noah lowered his head, his voice dripping with faux timidity. “Please don’t misunderstand, Cole. Joanna was just worried about my nerves since it’s my first funding round. She was just encouraging me.” He casually brushed his fingers over the watch on his wrist. “This is just a team bonus. It’s really not what you think.” I walked closer and glanced at the customized chocolate plaque on the cake box. To Noah’s first victory. The future is yours. The handwriting belonged to Joanna. This was the same woman who told me buying a birthday cake was a waste of money and that pointless rituals were for children. I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream. I just walked straight into the bedroom, pulled open my nightstand, and started shoving my passport and ID cards into my duffel bag. Joanna followed me in. “Who exactly are you throwing a fit for this time?” I zipped my marriage certificate into the side pocket. “Move.” She blocked the doorway. “You are becoming completely unreasonable, Cole. Noah is years younger than you, and he’s fighting tooth and nail to make it in this city all by himself.” “I’m his boss. What’s the crime in taking care of him?” I looked up from my bag. “My mother is fighting for her life alone in an ICU bed.” “Did you ever think to take care of her?” She choked on her words for a second before her face froze over. “Your mother’s situation is completely different.” “How is it different?” “Noah actually has a future.” The bedroom fell into a suffocating silence the moment those words left her mouth. Even Joanna seemed to realize she had crossed a line. But she didn’t apologize. She just looked away and muttered, “I just meant that investments require a return.” I stared at her. My chest felt like it had been carved open with a rusty blade. My mother had no future, so she wasn’t worth the money. I had no future, so I wasn’t worth her time. I grabbed my duffel bag and shoved past her. Out in the living room, Noah was happily eating his slice of cake. When he saw me marching toward the door, he put on a brave face and said softly, “You know, Cole, a man really needs to learn how to be independent. You can’t just expect other people to fix everything for you.” I stopped dead in my tracks. Joanna was standing right behind me. She didn’t say a single word to correct him. I looked at Noah and let out a dry, hollow laugh. “Did she teach you that line?” His face flushed bright red. I nodded slowly. “Commit it to memory. Because the day she decides you’re no longer yielding a return on her investment, you’ll be the one hearing it.” Noah’s smug little smile vanished. Joanna’s voice cracked like a whip. “That is enough, Cole.” I didn’t bother looking back. As I took the elevator down to the lobby, a severe, dragging pain ripped through my abdomen. I had to lean against the metal wall for several minutes just to remember how to breathe. My palms were drenched in cold sweat. My phone started ringing. It was the hospital. “Cole, your mother’s condition has severely deteriorated. You need to get here right now.” Black spots danced in my vision. I almost collapsed right there in the elevator car. 4 My mother crashed for the second time at exactly 9:17 PM. When the nurse ran out to find me, I was standing at the billing window, begging the clerk to give me just thirty more minutes. “Cole! Her pressure is bottoming out! The doctor needs your consent for the bypass right now!” The clerk slid my debit card back across the counter. Insufficient Funds. In that split second, all the strength drained from my legs. I clung to the counter ledge just to stay upright. I yanked out my phone and dialed Joanna’s number. First call. No answer. Second call. Still ringing. On the third try, she finally picked up. The background noise was incredibly loud. I was sobbing uncontrollably. “Joanna, my mom is back in the resuscitation room.” “The doctor said if I don’t clear the balance right now, they can’t administer the next round of meds. Please, just lend me thirty thousand. Just thirty thousand. I swear on my life I’ll pay you back.” The line went dead silent for two seconds. When she finally spoke, her voice was terrifyingly calm. “Cole, we have already had this conversation.” “You cannot blindly throw money at a problem without a solid plan.” I froze. “She is my mother.” “She is dying right now.” “I know that.” Her tone actually carried a trace of profound annoyance. “But you are an adult.” “Adults do not expect other people to act as their safety net every time something goes wrong. Your mother’s illness is a liability for your family, not an investment obligation for me.” I gripped the phone, my entire body shaking uncontrollably. “Joanna, you called her Mom for six years.” “That doesn’t mean I have to foot the bill for every uncontrollable variable.” She paused, her tone shifting into a condescending lecture. “Your biggest flaw, Cole, is your absolute refusal to grow up.” “The second a crisis hits, you cry, you beg, and you try to dump your stress onto someone else. I gave you the list of loan providers. I told you to sell your assets, get a line of credit, or apply for financial aid.” My throat felt like it was packed with wet cement. The red light above the emergency room door was still glaring. The doctors were in there fighting a losing battle for my mother’s life. And my wife was on the phone, giving me a lecture on independence. I squeezed my eyes shut. Tears splashed down onto the unpaid medical bills, blurring the ink. “And if it were Noah lying in that room today?” Silence stretched over the line. She didn’t answer. But I heard another man’s voice through the speaker. Soft, whining. “Joanna… my stomach still hurts a little…” Joanna immediately hushed him, her voice dropping into a tender murmur. “Don’t worry. I’m taking you to the hospital right now.” The blood in my veins turned entirely to ice. I gripped the phone, my voice so faint it was barely a whisper. “Joanna. You are taking him to the hospital?” She faltered for half a second before her voice went rigid again. “Noah felt sick after the pitch event. I’m just taking him in for a checkup.” “He’s a young kid with no family in this city. As his boss, it’s completely reasonable for me to look out for him.” I let out a broken laugh. “My mom doesn’t have anyone else either.” “I don’t have anyone else either.” She went quiet for several long seconds. “Cole, stop trying to emotionally blackmail me.” “It’s just a bout of acute gastroenteritis. Once he’s evaluated, I’ll head over to your side. Just handle things yourself for now.” Handle things yourself. When those four words dropped, the entire world went completely deaf. The nurse sprinted out of the double doors again. “Cole! Can you make the payment or not?! The doctor is waiting!” I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. Over the phone, Joanna was still talking. “Just calm down.” “Stop acting like the sky is falling every time something goes wrong. An adult needs problem-solving skills, not just the ability to beg.” I ended the call. I clutched the phone in my palm and slowly sank to the linoleum floor. Right then, an agonizing, violent tearing sensation ripped through my lower stomach. It felt like someone had plunged a jagged knife inside me and dragged it violently across my womb. I leaned heavily against the wall, trying to push myself up to call for a doctor. But the emergency room doors swung open first. The lead surgeon pulled his mask down. His face was heavy with exhaustion. “Cole.” “We did everything we could.” “The cardiac arrest lasted too long. Resuscitation was unsuccessful.” “I am so sorry for your loss.” Your loss. I stood frozen in place. The unpaid bills slowly slipped from my fingers and scattered across the floor. When they wheeled my mother out, a white sheet covered her face. I lunged forward. I tried to scream for her. But my throat felt like it was packed with shards of broken glass. Not a single syllable made it out. A nurse rushed forward to catch me. “Sir! Your color is terrible. Are you alright?” I tried to open my mouth to ask for help, but a blinding darkness swallowed my vision, and I collapsed hard onto the hospital tiles. When I was wheeled into the trauma bay, my phone started ringing again. Joanna’s name flashed across the cracked screen. I didn’t have the strength to answer it. A nurse held the phone up for me, looking deeply concerned. “Do you want us to notify your family?” I stared at the word ringing on the screen. Family. What an absolute joke. I weakly shook my head. “I don’t have any family.” “I’ll sign the consent forms myself.” The harsh surgical lights clicked on above me. Lying on the freezing operating table, I heard the obstetrician mutter under his breath. “Good thing we caught the hemorrhage in time. Another hour and he would have bled out completely…” I closed my eyes. That night, I lost my mother. And I lost the baby I never even got the chance to meet. Joanna didn’t arrive at the hospital until two hours later. Noah just had a mild stomach bug. After an IV drip, he was perfectly fine. She claimed she only remembered me after he fell asleep. So, she bought a cup of hot porridge and leisurely made her way to my ward. When she pushed open the doors to the emergency corridor, she happened to walk right past the nurses’ station during shift change. “The mother of that guy, Cole, didn’t make it. They transferred her to the morgue a couple of hours ago.” “God, that’s awful. And he just got out of emergency surgery for his miscarriage. He was completely alone the whole time. It breaks your heart.”

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Trapped in a gilded cage by Timmy, I eventually gave birth to his child. Consumed by the humiliation of how we started, I kept both of them at an icy distance. That was, until the floating text suddenly appeared in my vision. [If she keeps freezing him out like this, the male lead’s patience is going to snap.] [She has no idea her son secretly cries every single day. It breaks my heart.] [Timmy has the restraint of a saint. Tasted heaven exactly once and got banished to the couch for years. Bro is probably wearing out her old shirts just trying to cope.] [It happens tonight. He brings her warm milk again, she knocks it over, and instead of coaxing her, he finally decides to file for divorce.] [And after the divorce, she gets thrown to the wolves and meets a brutal end.] A soft knock echoed through the room. I practically jogged over to the door. Timmy stood there with a glass of warm milk. He lowered his dark eyes, a cynical smirk playing on his lips. “Going to throw this all over my shirt again?” I shook my head and gently curled my fingers around the fabric of his sleeve. “There’s a thunderstorm tonight. Can you stay with me?” Then I tilted my head, looking at the tiny figure peeking out from behind his long legs. “Finn, do you want to sleep in the big bed with Mom and Dad tonight?” 01 “What?” The freezing chill in Timmy’s eyes melted for a fraction of a second. But the flash of joy vanished just as quickly, replaced by a guarded, flat tone. “Are you testing me, Aria?” He thought I was using a moment of fake docility to make him lower his guard. He thought I wanted him to get bored of me so he would finally let me go. I pressed my lips together, entirely unsure of how to answer. I fully expected him to pull his arm away. But he just stood there, frozen in place, letting me hold onto him. “So,” I murmured softly. “Are you going to stay?” Timmy’s Adam’s apple bobbed. His dark, heavy gaze locked onto mine. It was a thick, burning kind of stare that made my knees feel dangerously weak. I had always been terrified of him when he looked at me like that. It always felt like he was one second away from devouring me whole. The corner of his mouth twitched. “Are you sure you want this?” With the glowing comments scrolling frantically across my vision, I nodded. I kept my hand on his and drank the entire glass of warm milk right there. [Is it a bit too late for her to start playing nice?] [Three years of the silent treatment. Whatever love he had for her is probably completely dead by now.] [Just wait. Once he divorces her, her own biological father is going to sell her off to some sixty-year-old creep just to secure business deals for the adopted daughter.] [If she had just treated him an ounce better, she wouldn’t have been tortured to death in the end.] [Honestly, yeah, he’s a bit of an obsessive psycho with a serious addiction to her, but the man is young and built like a god. If she had just embraced it earlier, she would have been eating five-star meals every night.] [LMAO, if you ever feel stressed, just take a look at little Finn’s face right now.] I looked down, unable to help myself. A tiny, soft hand suddenly wrapped around my wrist. “Mommy, can I really sleep with you?” I had to admit, Timmy’s genes were absolute top-tier. Finn looked like a pocket-sized version of him, just with softer, squishier cheeks. He tipped his head back, his big eyes shining with pure, desperate hope. It took me a second to process it, and I let out a soft “Mhm.” His eyes went wide like he had just witnessed a miracle. “Mommy, can you bend down a little bit?” he whispered. I leaned over. His little face turned bright red. Shyly, he reached up, wrapped his little arms around my neck, and pressed a wet, clumsy kiss to my cheek. Then he looked up at Timmy. “Dad, is it Christmas early this year?” Timmy did not answer. He was just staring down at my lips, his eyes growing shades darker. [She has a tiny bit of milk on her lip. I will not elaborate on what is going through that man’s head right now.] [The tension is literally exploding.] [Pink.] [If she just made one single move, her husband would be on her like a shadow.] [A delicious shadow.] [Bro is dominating the ‘silent suffering’ leaderboard. Give the man a trophy.] [He’s putting the whole obsessive-romance genre to shame.] [Aria Sinclair, you invited him to bed. Do not let this man leave empty-handed.] [I have no idea what timeline we are in right now, but I am grabbing my popcorn out of pure respect.] 02 I was entirely too used to sleeping alone. Having two extra bodies in my bed tonight felt completely foreign. The moment Finn climbed under the covers, he latched onto me like a koala. If I even tried to turn my head away, his little hands would reach up and physically turn my face back toward him. “Mommy, face this way.” He was a chatterbox. He babbled about a dozen random things, but the moment he closed his eyes, he was out cold. My arm was starting to fall asleep. As I carefully tried to pull it out from under him, my hand accidentally brushed against Timmy’s cheek. He let out a low, muffled groan. His eyes locked onto mine. The bedroom was dimly lit by a soft amber lamp, but I could still clearly see the tips of his ears burning bright red. “Are you…” He looked away instantly. “I’m fine.” But his voice sounded impossibly tight. I honestly had no idea what was wrong with him. [What do you think is wrong? Bro just caught a whiff of your perfume and is fighting for his life right now.] [Take a wild guess why he refuses to divorce you even though you treat him like ice.] [Because he is literally addicted to you. Duh.] I swallowed hard. My face flushed hot as the absolute filth scrolling across the comments hit me. But Timmy and I had only been together that one single time. Did he really think about me like that? Especially since that one time had felt like nothing but a humiliating trap to me. I hated thinking about it. I quickly pulled my hand back, intending to roll over and face the wall. But I did not realize a strand of my hair had gotten tangled around the button of Finn’s pajamas. As I turned, my scalp pulled sharply. I have thick, wavy hair, and it was knotted tight. The more I fumbled with it, the more Finn started to whine in his sleep. “Don’t move.” Timmy’s voice came out rough and completely shot. A large, warm hand slid into my hair. I flinched on pure instinct. He noticed. The warmth drained out of his voice, leaving it flat. “I’m not going to touch you.” The moment the words left his mouth, my hair fell free. We had nowhere else to look but at each other. I could see it. I could clearly see the dark, suffocating wave of desire churning in his eyes. A wave of nausea twisted in my stomach. [Here she goes again, she’s going to call him disgusting, isn’t she? No matter how much he loves her, a man can only take so many daggers to the chest before he breaks.] [Aria, have a heart. Aside from that one night, has he ever laid a finger on you in the last three years? You have no idea how brutal the real world is going to be if you actually leave him.] I dug my nails into my palms, swallowing down the discomfort with everything I had. I looked at him and stammered out, “Thank… thank you.” Timmy froze. The darkness in his eyes shifted into pure shock. But then he suddenly threw off the blanket and practically bolted for the en-suite bathroom. “Go to sleep.” [We all know exactly what he’s doing in there. It took me zero seconds to figure it out.] [Taking matters into his own hands, literally.] [The bathroom smells just like her. Bro’s blood pressure must be through the roof.] [A Michelin-star feast right there.] [Girl, do us a favor and give the man something. We are starving out here.] [Can you guys chill? The fact that she initiated anything tonight is already a massive plot twist.] [True, but let’s be real. Their first time was a massive misunderstanding anyway.] I read the floating text slowly. My mind drifted back into the past. 03 Before Timmy forcefully dragged me to the altar, we had been dating online for a year. That was right around the time I found out I was the biological daughter of a wealthy family, swapped at birth by a malicious nanny. I had lived in an orphanage for over twenty years. I genuinely thought going back to my biological family meant I would finally experience what it was like to be loved. But my parents heavily favored Stella, the adopted daughter who had taken my place. During those dark months, Timmy was the only person I opened up to. When we finally met in person, he was incredibly gentle, wearing a tailored suit, polite and perfect. I thought he was a good man. But once we became official, his suffocating, obsessive need to control everything around me made it hard to breathe. I carefully suggested we take a break. He smiled and agreed, but I constantly felt like there was a pair of eyes watching me from the shadows. Then came the day I accidentally stumbled into his basement. An entire wall was plastered with candid photos of me. Next to it was a collection of bizarre, terrifying items. The online romance had never been a coincidence. It was a calculated hunt. I demanded a breakup. He just laughed, a hollow, broken sound. “Break up? I think I’d rather just die.” I was terrified. So terrified that during my graduation party, I drank a spiked glass of wine in a daze. I was carried to a hotel room. His room. It was a night of absolute madness. When I woke up and realized what happened, I slapped him as hard as I could across the face. He did not even flinch. He just reached up, gently wiping my tears away with his thumb. “Did that hurt your hand?” “Do you want to hit the other side?” “Keep hitting me until you aren’t angry anymore.” When I finally broke down and ran out of the room, a swarm of paparazzi was waiting in the hallway. My reputation was completely destroyed overnight. My parents looked at me with pure disgust. They immediately started arranging blind dates for me to salvage their public image. When Timmy found out, he used the security footage from the hallway to force my parents’ hand. We were married a week later. I spent years believing every single tragedy in my life was a trap he had carefully orchestrated. I treated him like dirt. A few months into the marriage, I found out I was pregnant. I did not want the baby. Timmy dropped to his knees in front of me. He pulled out a pocket knife and dragged it across his own wrist, drawing a bright line of crimson. “You don’t want him, and you don’t want me. Fine. Then neither of us will ever bother you again.” I hated him. I wanted him gone. But seeing the blood dripping onto the carpet, I was paralyzed with fear. I hated my own cowardice. After I gave birth to Finn, I refused to hold him. I just wanted to freeze Timmy out until he finally got tired of me and let me go. But the comments were telling me that leaving him meant I was going to die a miserable death. And they kept mentioning a misunderstanding. What misunderstanding? My thoughts swirled in the dark until exhaustion finally pulled me under. I did not even hear when Timmy finally came back to bed. 04 When I woke up the next morning, the space next to me was empty. I let out a breath of relief, but then nearly jumped out of my skin when a tiny face suddenly appeared inches from mine. “Mommy, you’re awake!” Finn was standing beside the bed, dressed in his crisp little kindergarten uniform. He looked exactly like a pristine little prince. Even though I had spent years treating him like a ghost, he still seemed completely obsessed with me. [Here it is, the daily morning routine. She pretends to be asleep, and the kid gets his heart broken.] [Finn is such an angel. His mom literally ignores his existence, and he still follows her around like a puppy.] [Ugh, my heart hurts so much. What did this sweet boy ever do to deserve this?] “Morning, Mommy. Can I give you a kiss before I go to school?” I was still half-asleep and entirely disoriented. “What?” “The kids on Bluey give their mommy kisses every morning. I want to do it too.” My stomach tied itself into a knot. We rarely ever spoke, let alone touched. I had a massive mental block when it came to physical affection. As I bit my lip, hesitating, my eyes flicked to the doorway. Timmy was standing right there. A flash of the comments predicting my brutal death crossed my mind. Seeing my silence, Finn dropped his head. The corners of his mouth turned down. But he forced a brave little smile a second later. “It’s okay, Mommy. I didn’t really want to—” “How… where do you want to kiss?” I stammered, cutting him off. Finn’s eyes lit up like fireworks. “Mommy, you mean yes?!” He grabbed my hand, swinging it back and forth, his eyes curving into little crescents. I nodded, feeling incredibly awkward. [Woah wait, is the Ice Queen actually thawing?] [Look at Timmy’s face right now. Bro’s brain is completely short-circuiting. He’s malfunctioning.] [He definitely wants a kiss from his wife too.] I did not dare look at Timmy. The tiny human had already scrambled up and pressed a loud smack against my cheek. I froze solid. It felt strange. But… I did not push him away. Finn wrapped his arms around my neck and nuzzled my shoulder. “Mommy, am I dreaming?” […Why am I crying right now?] [The way he nuzzled her. My chest physically hurts.] [Timmy standing in the doorway like: Hello, I am also a toddler, I require a kiss.] [Look at him. He’s practically turning into stone waiting for her to notice him.] I instinctively glanced up at the doorway. Timmy didn’t say a word. He just narrowed his eyes slightly, his expression completely unreadable. I quickly looked away, pretending I hadn’t seen a thing. Finn finally let go of me and happily skipped toward the door. “Dad! I kissed Mommy again!” Timmy let out a low “Mhm” and reached out to affectionately ruffle Finn’s hair. “Dad’s taking you to school today.” Finn, with his little backpack securely on, looked back at me with absolute puppy-dog eyes. “I wish Mommy could take me.” “Be good. Mom needs to rest. Don’t bother her.” “Dad, why don’t you go kiss Mommy too?” I leaned back against the headboard, my heart suddenly leaping into my throat. Timmy lowered his eyes. “We’re going to be late. Say bye to Mom.” “Aww, okay! I’ll wake up earlier tomorrow to kiss Mommy again!” Finn scrunched his face in determination before waving frantically at me. “Bye, Mommy! I’m going to school now! I promise I’ll be super good!” The floating text exploded again. [Weird. Didn’t she want to run away? Why is she suddenly playing house?] [Hey… this is a good thing, right?] [The teacher gave the kids an assignment yesterday. The moms are supposed to supervise the kids learning how to shower by themselves. That’s why he snuck into her room last night.] [Thinking about him having to stand in front of the class and admit he didn’t do the homework because his mom hates him… I’m going to cry.] [Aria, since you’re already acting like a decent human today, can you just stand by the bathroom door tonight and help him out?] 05 I don’t know what Timmy said to Finn on the way to school, but when Finn got home, he was incredibly quiet. He didn’t come looking for me. He didn’t ask me to play. The comments were relentless. [Forget it. Once they divorce and Timmy marries Stella, Finn will finally get a mom who cares about him.] [Lmao, who would even believe that a billionaire like Timmy has been entirely celibate for years?] [Bro is basically guarding his purity for her. Thank god she refused to sleep with him, right?] [Stella might be a manipulative snake, but sometimes the villain gets the bag! Let’s go!] I was finally starting to piece everything together. In this timeline, the “main character” was Stella. Even though I was the biological daughter, she was the one destined to win everything. Half the comments were tearing me apart for being pretentious and difficult. But a few people were actually making sense. [The original plot was garbage anyway. The adopted daughter steals her family, her husband, and her kid, and we’re supposed to cheer for her? The morals are entirely messed up.] [The biological daughter died horribly just to pave the way for a fraud.] [If it were me, I’d never let them win. Do not sign those papers, Aria! Let them suffer!] I took a deep breath, stood up, and walked toward the bathroom. Finn was standing precariously on a plastic step stool, stretching as hard as he could to reach the showerhead. Hearing my footsteps, he whipped his head around. “Mommy?” I leaned against the doorframe, crossing my arms defensively. “Do… do you need some help?” He froze for two whole seconds, his face turning a brilliant shade of crimson. “You know about my homework, Mommy?” “Yeah.” “Oh!” “I can do it by myself, Mommy! I’m a big boy!” He tried three more times, nearly slipping. I hesitated for a second before walking in, pulling the showerhead down, and handing it to him. “Thank you, Mommy!” [Yesterday she wouldn’t even look at them, today she’s giving kisses and helping with bath time. Did she get possessed?] [Timmy is currently having an existential crisis.] From the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of a tall figure standing just outside the door, holding a fluffy towel. “Mommy, look at me!” Finn suddenly spun around, his hair entirely covered in a mountain of soap bubbles. He vigorously scrubbed his head, wiggling his little hips. In the process, his foot kicked the showerhead on the floor. A jet of warm water shot straight up, completely soaking my blouse. “Ahhh! I’m sorry, Mommy!” He panicked, reaching out to try and wipe the water off me, but ended up smearing a massive handful of soap directly onto my shoulder. [Finn, on behalf of your father, thank you for your service.] [Timmy doesn’t have to hug her laundry to sleep tonight.] [Direct hit. Zero patience left.] I quickly turned my body, trying to angle myself away from the doorway where Timmy was standing. I gently caught Finn’s chaotic little hands. “It’s fine, I’ll rinse you off.” I heard footsteps behind me. For some reason, my entire body went rigid. But he didn’t step into the bathroom. He just leaned against the vanity outside, silently watching us. Only when the water turned off did Timmy walk in. He scooped up the dripping-wet toddler, expertly wrapping him in the towel and drying him off. He helped Finn brush his teeth and apply his baby lotion. He moved with absolute effortless precision. It hit me then—he was the one who had been raising this child entirely by himself all these years. “I’ll have the nanny put him to bed.” The nanny was waiting in the hallway. She took Finn from his arms. Finn looked over the nanny’s shoulder, staring at me with pure longing. Timmy’s eyes darkened in annoyance, and Finn looked away, defeated. “Okay, I’ll just…” I knew exactly what he wanted. I walked over, leaned in, and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. The little guy went completely still against the nanny’s shoulder, his eyes going impossibly wide. He slapped both hands over his face, looking like he was about to pass out from sheer joy. Right before they turned the corner, he waved frantically. “Goodnight, Mommy! I’m so happy today! Super, super happy!” 06 The door clicked shut. The bedroom descended into total silence. I looked down at my soaked shirt. The thin fabric was clinging to my skin like a second layer. I crossed my arms, feeling my face heat up. When I looked up, I crashed straight into Timmy’s dark, predatory stare. [To Timmy right now, she is a literal succubus.] [Imagine being touch-starved for years, and the woman who hates you is standing right in front of you looking like that. Give the man some grace.] [Zero patience. He’s going in.] My cheeks were burning. I took a clumsy step backward. “I… I need to go change.” The moment I turned, my foot hit a wet patch of tile. Before the scream could even leave my throat, a solid arm wrapped around me, pulling me hard against a chest. A scorching hot hand clamped tightly around my waist. [Look at the size of that hand. The tension is lethal.] [She’s going to shove him away again, isn’t she?] [Last month he accidentally brushed her hand passing the salt, and she threw a glass of water at the wall.] [Welp, back to the couch he goes. Stella is definitely winning this war.] Maybe the comments were distracting me. Or maybe I was just frozen. But I forgot to push him away. By the time my brain caught up, Timmy had already scooped me up into his arms and was carrying me toward the bed. “You’re drenched.” I turned my head away, unable to look at him. My voice came out like a whisper. “There’s something… hard in your pocket. It’s pressing into me.” The temperature in the room plummeted. I felt his breathing hitch. The muscles in his arms turned to absolute granite. [Bro is wearing sweatpants. What pocket? What belt?] [Oh honey, she knows exactly what that is.] [Let me spell it out for the innocent folks in the back: The man is fully bricked up.] [God, the ‘restrained obsessive’ trope is peak fiction. When they finally snap, it is glorious.] [Do it.] A second later, Timmy grabbed my hand and physically dragged it downward, pressing my palm flat against the heat. Then, before I could process the shock, he pulled the heavy duvet over me, trapping me underneath. “I’ll go find you some dry clothes.” Just as he turned to leave, my hand shot out from under the covers and grabbed his wrist. “Don’t go.” He raised an eyebrow. I forced myself to meet his eyes. “I want to talk to you.” 07 I needed to ask him. I needed to know if he was really the one who spiked my drink that night. I needed to know what the comments meant by “misunderstanding.” Timmy stared down at my face, looking like he had just been electrocuted. Up until today, I treated physical contact with him like a plague. “Okay.” His expression smoothed out into total blankness. It made my stomach twist. Had he already mentally checked out? Was he already planning the divorce? Timmy sat on the edge of the mattress. He reached out and casually pulled the edge of the duvet over his lap, covering himself. [LMAO, the absolute king of ‘cold showers and doing my own laundry’ right here.] [Timmy: Pain is just weakness leaving the body.] [Timmy’s lower half: Bro, do you hate me? Are you actively trying to kill me?] [The second she grabbed his hand, he probably planned their entire second honeymoon in his head.] [Aria, listen to me. Everyone in this world is using you. Your husband and your kid are the only ones who actually give a damn about you.] I looked up at him. “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time, and I wanted to ask you face to face…” I didn’t get to finish. My phone vibrated violently on the nightstand. I fumbled for it and accidentally hit the speakerphone button. A deep, professional male voice echoed through the room. “Good evening, Ms. Sinclair. I am the divorce attorney you—” I slammed my finger onto the end call button in pure panic. Timmy was already on his feet. His back was turned to me, and his posture was terrifyingly stiff. His voice was pure ice. “I have work to do. Whatever you wanted to say, we can talk about it another day.” He walked out without looking back. He was walking so fast he nearly tripped over the rug by the door. [Aria, I think you just broke your husband.] [Why on earth would the divorce lawyer call right at this exact second?!] [What was the point of being nice to him for two days just to gut him like this? That’s just cruel.] I didn’t hire that divorce lawyer. I had no idea why they were calling me. Then my screen lit up with a text from my mother: “Aria, hurry up and sign the papers with Timmy. Mom is going to bring you home.”

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1 I woke up as the fake heiress, the classic cuckoo in the nest. My mission? Bully the real daughter until she broke. The System issued its first directive: Grind her face into the mud. Make her taste absolute humiliation! I dragged her to a five-star wellness retreat for a premium botanical mud wrap. The next morning, she was glowing, outshining everyone. The System panicked: Force her into manual labor! Work her until she collapses! I bought her a VIP membership at an elite private gym. She squatted while shredded trainers fed her buttered lobster tails, sweating through designer gear. The System flashed red alerts: Wait, you call this bullying?! When I first arrived, Lily stood on the Kensington estate doorstep in pouring rain. Her faded denim jacket was soaked, cuffs dripping onto marble. Eleanor, the woman who raised me, sat on a velvet sofa with red eyes, frozen, terrified to scare her biological daughter away. Richard, the patriarch, looked her up and down with a dark expression. And me? Blair Kensington, the fake daughter pampered for eighteen years, draped in a cashmere throw, sipping Earl Grey in the dead center of the couch. The picture-perfect evil stepsister clocking in for duty. A mechanical voice echoed in my skull. [Villainess System binding complete.] [Host’s current identity: Blair Kensington, the fake heiress.] [Mission Objective: Follow the original plotline. Humiliate the true heiress, Lily, and accumulate Malice Points.] [Once Malice Points reach 100, Host will be rewarded with fifty million dollars and returned to the real world.] Fifty million. My fingers twitched against my teacup. In the real world, my mom was lying in a hospital bed waiting for her surgery fees. Before I transmigrated, I had just walked away from the billing department with a pit in my stomach. My bank account barely had enough for the next round of deposits, let alone the actual operation. To me, fifty million wasn’t just striking it rich. It was salvation. I hesitated for exactly three seconds. Then the System dropped my first assignment. [Novice Mission: Within ten minutes, shove the true heiress’s face roughly into the mud. Make her understand her lowly status.] I looked toward the grand entryway. Lily stood there with her head bowed. Rainwater dripped from the ends of her dark hair. According to the novel’s plot, she was switched at birth and sent to the Fletcher family. The Fletchers were deadbeats who favored boys and treated her like an unpaid maid. The System started its countdown. [Ten. Nine. Eight…] I set my tea down and stood up. Lily heard the movement and looked up at me. She looked exactly like a half-drowned stray cat. She was clearly terrified, yet she was trying so hard to hide her claws. I walked right up to her and let my voice drop into a cold drawl. “Come with me.” Eleanor jumped up. “Blair, where are you taking her?” The System buzzed with sick excitement. [Yes! Exactly like that! Drag her out! Show her who really owns this house!] I ignored my adoptive mother. I grabbed Lily by her wrist and pulled her back out the door. Her wrist was incredibly thin. I felt her flinch the second my fingers wrapped around her skin, but she didn’t fight back. She just asked in a breathless whisper, “What are you doing?” I shot her a nasty glare. “Putting you in your place.” Eleanor practically tripped over the rug. “Blair!” But Richard didn’t stop me. He just frowned and muttered, “Keep it out of the tabloids.” The System purred in my head. [Malice atmosphere aligns perfectly with the original plot. Please proceed, Host.] Lily lowered her eyes and followed me into the waiting Bentley. She sat rigidly beside me, her spine completely straight. I glanced at her soaking wet hair. I tried to ignore it, but I eventually snatched a pristine dry towel from the console and threw it at her. “Dry off. Don’t ruin my leather seats.” Lily blinked in surprise. “Thank you.” The System instantly went on high alert. [Host, you are exhibiting suspected care toward the target.] I kept my face perfectly blank. “She’s dripping everywhere. It’s bad for the luxury aesthetic.” The System paused. [Understood. Logic accepted.] Twenty minutes later, my driver pulled up to an exclusive, invite-only beauty sanctuary in the city center. Lily stared up at the gold-leaf lettering on the awning. Utter confusion washed over her face. I dragged her through the glass doors. The front desk manager recognized me instantly, slapping on a hundred-watt smile. “Miss Kensington! What treatment are we doing today?” I slammed my black Centurion card onto the marble counter. “Not for me. For her.” “Book her for the most expensive botanical mud wrap you have. Face, neck, shoulders, back. The whole nine yards. And make sure you slather that mud on thick.” The manager didn’t miss a beat. “Right away, Miss Kensington.” My host body had an unlimited credit limit, but the System strictly forbade converting this wealth into real-world cash. The only way to save my mom was to earn that fifty million dollar reward. Lily finally couldn’t hold it in anymore. She stared at me, totally bewildered. “Blair, what are you actually trying to do?” I crossed my arms and gave her my best mean-girl sneer. “Didn’t you hear me? I’m getting your face shoved in the mud.” She went completely pale. The System glitched in my brain. [Host. The mission requires humiliation, not a luxury spa purchase.] I replied mentally. Is there mud on her face? [Yes.] Did I force someone to push it onto her? [Yes.] Is her face physically in the mud? The System went dead silent. [Evaluating Novice Mission…] [Evaluation Successful.] [Malice Points +3.] Two hours later, Lily walked out of the treatment suite. Her previously dull, exhausted complexion now looked like polished porcelain. She was stunningly clean and radiant. The aesthetician couldn’t help but gush. “Your sister has an incredible base. With a little maintenance, she is going to be absolutely breathtaking.” Lily clearly wasn’t used to compliments. The tips of her ears flushed a deep, bright pink. She looked at her shoes. “Thank you.” The System pinged again. [New Mission: Tomorrow night is the Welcome Home Gala. Host must publicly humiliate the true heiress and turn her into the laughingstock of the entire party.] I looked at Lily’s gorgeous, glowing face. A slow smile spread across my lips. A laughingstock? Sure. Let’s give them a show they’ll never forget. The Kensington estate was decked out for the gala. The elite guests wore polite, plastic smiles, but the whispers traveling through the ballroom were sharp enough to draw blood. “I heard the real daughter grew up in some dead-end trailer park.” “The Kensingtons raised Blair for eighteen years, and now they just swap her out? God, how awkward.” “I’m just dying to see who Richard and Eleanor actually favor. Blood or bond?” The System was screaming in my head. [Please execute the mission immediately. Make the target suffer public humiliation.] I looked toward the grand staircase. Lily was walking down. She was wearing the mist-blue evening gown I had bullied the stylist into picking. The skirt wasn’t overly dramatic, but the cut cinched her waist perfectly, making her look elegant and ethereal. The entire ballroom went silent for a split second. Eleanor covered her mouth, her eyes welling up with tears. Even Richard’s stern face softened with complicated emotions. I picked up a flute of champagne and walked to the base of the stairs. When Lily saw me approaching, her shoulders visibly stiffened. Perfect. The villainess reputation was still doing the heavy lifting. This would make my performance so much easier. I stopped right in front of her. I kept my voice at the perfect volume, loud enough for the gossiping socialites nearby to hear. “Lily.” The music seemed to fade. Everyone was watching. The System was losing its digital mind. [Yes! Just like that! Tear her down!] I reached out, grabbed Lily’s wrist, and pulled her right into the center of the ballroom floor. Her fingers were freezing. She asked in a frantic whisper, “What are you doing?” I ignored her. I walked straight up to the live band and snatched the microphone from the emcee. Eleanor panicked. “Blair, knock it off right now.” The System was setting off virtual fireworks in my skull. [Emotional atmosphere matches the plot perfectly! Proceed, Host!] I held the mic up, swept my gaze over the glittering crowd, and smirked. “Ladies and gentlemen. I’m standing up here tonight because I want to treat you all to a massive joke.” The guests’ eyes lit up with predatory excitement. Lily’s face lost all its color. I turned to her and snapped. “Stand up straight.” She froze. I scowled. “I said, stand up straight. Did the Kensingtons bring you all the way back here just so you could cower like a kicked dog?” Lily’s eyelashes fluttered. Then, very slowly, she pulled her shoulders back and straightened her spine. I nodded in satisfaction. I turned back to the crowd of vultures. “The joke is on all of you. Because you wasted your time coming here tonight.” I paced a few steps. “You all showed up hoping for a catfight. You wanted to see the fake daughter tear apart the real one. You wanted to watch this family implode. Well, I hate to break it to you, but you’re out of luck.” The System stalled. [?] I shoved the microphone directly into Lily’s hands. “Speak.” Lily looked at me in sheer panic. I leaned in and whispered viciously. “If you squeak like a mouse, I’ll sign you up for twenty hours of public speaking boot camp tomorrow.” Lily’s lips parted. She tightened her grip on the mic, took a breath, and looked out at the sea of wealthy strangers. “My name is Lily.” Her voice trembled at first, then steadied. “I am not here to steal anyone’s life. And I am certainly not a punchline for your entertainment. I am simply taking the place that was always meant to be mine.” Eleanor burst into tears right there in the crowd. When the applause erupted, the System nearly shattered my eardrums. [Host! The mission was to make her the laughingstock of the party!] She is, isn’t she? [How is this a laughingstock?!] Are people smiling in the crowd? [Those are smiles of relief and admiration!] And is she holding the stock of the microphone? […] Smiling. Stock. Both conditions met, right? The System went quiet for three very long seconds. [Malice Points +2.] I had to bite my cheek to keep from laughing out loud. The next morning, the System was back to its unhinged demands. [Main Storyline Mission: Punish the true heiress by making her scrub the entire mansion. She is absolutely not allowed to stop until she is dripping with sweat.] I had barely opened my eyes. I seriously considered sitting up and cursing the AI out. [Please execute immediately, or face a deduction in your Return Home Points.] The words Return Home Points sobered me up instantly. I could play games with the rules, but I had to get back. My mom was waiting. The doctors had told me that if we delayed the surgery any longer, she might not make it. Right before I crossed over, I had drained my account just to pay her hospital bed deposit, and my phone was blowing up with eviction threats from my landlord. I could walk away from the luxury of this world. But I refused to be trapped here while my mother died. Half an hour later, I summoned Lily to the living room. She looked a tiny bit more relaxed than yesterday, but the moment she saw me, that instinctual tension came right back. “W… what’s wrong?” I slapped a plastic card onto the glass coffee table. “Your punishment.” She looked down at it. It was a VIP Annual Pass to the Equinox Elite Training Center. I delivered my sentence with stone-cold severity. “Starting today, you’re going to scrub every single day.” Lily looked completely lost. “Scrub what?” “Scrub the fat,” I said with a straight face. “Full body high-intensity interval training. We call it fat-scrubbing. Making you mop the floors is too basic. If a Kensington daughter is going to scrub something, she’s scrubbing her body fat percentage.” The System: [?] Lily: “…” The gym was even more ridiculous than I imagined. A lineup of elite personal trainers stood at the entrance. Broad shoulders, narrow waists, blindingly bright smiles. It looked like a casting call for a billionaire romance movie. Just as we walked in, my phone buzzed. It was a text from Eleanor. [Come home tonight. We need to discuss the living arrangements for you and Lily.] I stared at the screen. My stomach dropped. Here it comes. According to the original plot, the day after the welcome gala, the Kensingtons hold a family meeting. On the surface, it’s a discussion about how to accommodate both girls. But in reality, it’s the moment they decide what to do with the fake daughter. In the book, my character has a complete meltdown. She cries, screams, and accuses Lily of ruining her perfect life. She forces Richard and Eleanor to make a choice. Her or me. That brutal argument is the exact catalyst for Lily’s villain origin story. It’s the first time Lily realizes that her mere existence brings pain to others. She internalizes the guilt. She starts backing down. She swallows every ounce of abuse to keep the peace. Until years later, when she is sold off in a business marriage, used as a pawn, and emotionally blackmailed into oblivion. That’s when she fully snaps, turns completely ruthless, and drags the entire Kensington empire down into the dirt. The System’s voice turned chillingly robotic. [Critical Plot Node Triggered.] [Host must falsely accuse the true heiress of stealing your life. Host must force the Kensington family to choose between you and her.] [Mission Success: Malice Points +20.] [Mission Failure: Deduction of 50% Return Home Points.] [Warning: Passive sabotage detected. Connecting to Mainframe Protocol. High-tier surveillance activated. If any bugs or loopholes are detected, the System will initiate a forced override of Host’s motor functions.] At seven o’clock that evening, the Kensington living room was dead quiet. Richard sat in the armchair, his face darker than a storm cloud. Eleanor sat next to him, dabbing her bloodshot eyes with a tissue. Lily stood slightly behind me. Her face was blank, but her fingers were nervously twisting the hem of her sleeve. Richard cleared his throat. “Blair, now that Lily is home, there are some logistical realities we need to get straight.” I sank into the sofa and crossed my legs. “Like what? Like the fact that I’ve been a parasite in your house for eighteen years? Or how you’re planning to dispose of the knock-off daughter?” Eleanor gasped. “Blair, that is not what your father means!” “Then what does he mean?” Eleanor opened her mouth but couldn’t find the words. Richard took over. “No one is kicking you out. But Lily is a Kensington by blood. The two of you can’t keep circling each other like this.” “Like what?” I gave a dry laugh. “Me bullying her?” Beside me, Lily’s face began to drain of color. The System chimed. [Current plot node accuracy verified. Please continue to escalate the conflict, Host.] I glanced at Lily. She was already looking at me. There was no anger in her eyes. Just a quiet, heartbreaking mix of confusion and fear. It was like she had just crawled out of the dark to stand in the sun, only to realize the light could burn her too. I looked away. I was ready to exploit the loophole. I had the perfect plan. The System wanted me to force them to choose. Fine. I would make them choose. I would make them choose Lily. And then I would pack my bags and leave. I could play the dramatic villain, scream that I couldn’t bear breathing the same air as the “peasant” daughter, and storm out. On paper, I fulfilled the quota of being an evil bitch. In reality, I would be handing the narrative power back to Lily, clearing the space she rightfully deserved in her own family. But the exact second I opened my mouth to speak, a deafening siren ripped through my brain. [Warning! Host exhibits malicious intent to bypass plot constraints.] My blood ran completely cold. The next second, my vision blacked out. [Critical Mission Forced Override Initiated.] [Host’s dialogue fails to meet Villainess parameters. System assuming temporary control of motor functions for 3:00 minutes.]

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1 I was scrolling through a community help forum while slacking off at work when a particular post caught my eye. My female subordinate keeps hitting on me. Should I fire her? As I read through the post, the description of the subordinate’s outfit and her daily routine started to look suspiciously familiar. The next day, I wore my standard office uniform: a simple white button-down shirt and a navy blue skirt. Sure enough, the forum thread updated shortly after. This woman is a master of seduction. Look how sexy she dressed today. Attached to the post was a stock photo of the exact outfit combination I was currently wearing. The commenters were thoroughly confused, but I was completely floored. … I stared at the stock photo in disbelief. This was indeed my exact outfit for the day. Curious, I clicked on his profile and began scrolling through his history from the very beginning. His earliest posts were highly professional, filled with standard business advice, market analyses, and stock trading tips. I could barely understand most of it. But then, starting from a certain date, the tone of his posts shifted. There is a girl at the office. Her eyes sparkle, and she always flashes me the brightest smiles. All the other employees avoid me like the plague. What does this mean? The commenters immediately replied: She obviously likes you. He responded: Our company has a strict policy against office romance. The commenters asked: Well, do you like her? He replied: What is there to like? A true professional keeps his mind on his work, not on women! A commenter joked: Ah, a career-oriented guy. Pack it up, everyone. But things only got stranger from there. The financial trading posts began to dwindle, replaced by frequent updates about his female subordinate. Yesterday’s help thread had already surpassed five thousand upvotes and racked up a four-digit comment section. My female subordinate keeps provoking me, ruining my productivity. What should I do? The commenters, always eager for drama, egged him on: Just fire her. He replied: I am a man of principle. I cannot fire people without cause. How exactly is she provoking you? Give us the details. In response, he wrote a incredibly long, detailed explanation. Every Monday during our weekly meeting, she dresses incredibly sexy and stares at me with sparkling eyes while presenting. I once mentioned that I minored in creative writing in college. She happens to be a popular writer on Reddit. My Reddit username is EndlessSummer. Her corporate Slack handle is Jellybean. A commenter expressed their confusion: I let everything else slide, but what on earth do EndlessSummer and Jellybean have in common? He replied almost instantly: Jellybeans are sweet and colorful, just like summer days! If she likes jellybeans, she likes sweet summer days, which means she likes Endless Summer, which means she likes me! It is a blindingly obvious hint! Another commenter wrote back: Right… crystal clear. This was when the truth finally hit me. The female subordinate was me. My Slack handle was indeed Jellybean, simply because I loved eating jellybeans. But I never paid attention to my colleagues’ personal social media usernames, and I had no idea who EndlessSummer was. My day job was a corporate wage slave, and my side gig was writing fiction online. That was a known fact around the office, but I never shared my pen names, nor did I care about anyone else’s. 2 The forum commenters were quite blunt. OP, what do you mean she is provoking you? You are clearly projecting. Exactly, those two usernames have absolutely no connection. This is hilarious. OP has already scripted a three-hundred-episode romance drama in his head while the girl is still in the opening credits. The poster was not pleased. Then why does she try so hard to show off in front of me during every single meeting? A commenter wrote back: Is there a slight chance she just wants a promotion and a raise? I took a slow sip of my coffee in the breakroom, trying to figure out who this poster could possibly be. But to be safe, I needed to confirm if this “sexy” subordinate was indeed me. The next day, I wore a basic white button-down and a blue pencil skirt. It was not a Monday, so there was no weekly meeting scheduled. However, my direct supervisor, Gabe, suddenly called an emergency catch-up meeting. Right after the meeting concluded, the forum post updated. This woman is a master of seduction. Look how sexy she dressed today! I logged into my throwaway account with a default avatar and left a reply: How sexy? Post a picture. Within an hour, my comment gathered over a thousand upvotes, surpassing the engagement of the original post. Eager to prove his point to the skeptical crowd, the poster quickly uploaded a stock photo of a white shirt and a blue pencil skirt. The comment section was instantly flooded with question marks. The poster defended himself: You guys do not understand. To see me today, she even wore THAT!! I quickly replied: What is ‘that’? Other commenters followed up: Now I am curious. What is it? Isn’t this the most basic office wear? How is this sexy? Honestly, it looks a bit plain. I don’t get OP. Losing his patience, the poster finally replied: Stockings! I am a total leg guy. She wore sheer stockings on purpose to show off her long, slim legs. Plus, she has a tiny daphne flower tattoo right on her ankle. It is incredibly sexy! Mystery solved. The subordinate was definitely me. My name is Daphne, and my ankle tattoo is indeed a daphne flower. The comment section erupted in amusement: Can anyone else relate to holding in their laughter in the office until their face cramps? This poster is absolutely obsessed with his subordinate. Definitely sharing this thread with my friends. This is gold. The poster panicked. Forget it, I cannot explain it to you guys online. I do not like her, alright? My sole focus right now is my career. A commenter left a biting reply: Even after he is cremated, his mouth will probably remain intact. 3 I had two direct supervisors in my department. The first was Marcus, our operations manager. He was married, so I ruled him out immediately. The second was Gabe, our department head. He was single, hilarious, and highly energetic. He was a very likely candidate. Technically, there was also our CEO, Alistair Wiley. While he was drop-dead gorgeous, he was also a ruthless, ice-cold workaholic. Rumors said he had absolutely no interest in romance, living only for the company’s profit. The probability of him being the poster was practically zero. By process of elimination, Gabe was the prime suspect. To confirm my theory, I sent a direct message to the poster using my throwaway account: Do you work at Synapse Tech? He replied almost instantly: How did you know? I looked up from my desk. Gabe was currently standing by the printer, humming a tune and completely focused on his documents. His phone was sitting untouched on his desk. If it was not Gabe… was it Alistair? The terrifying thought took root in my mind, and I could not shake it off. Regardless of how unlikely it seemed, I had to rule him out. 4 I had to take a quick shot of whiskey in the breakroom just to build up the courage to knock on Alistair’s office door. When I entered, Alistair was wearing gold-rimmed glasses, reviewing a file. The evening sun cast a warm, golden glow on his sharp profile. He had a prominent brow, a high bridge, and features that looked perfectly sculpted. The air in the room carried a cold scent of cedarwood and expensive leather. It suited him perfectly: elegant, distant, and incredibly expensive. Seeing me enter, he raised his eyes. They were deep, dark, and completely devoid of warmth. Under his steady gaze, I immediately regretted my decision. How could a man like Alistair ever post such nonsense on an online forum? “What is it?” his deep, steady voice asked. His presence was incredibly commanding. Standing alone in his office, my palms began to sweat from sheer nervousness, but I forced a polite, professional smile anyway. “It is… well, we are organizing an upcoming industry panel, and we would love to invite you to participate if your schedule allows.” He held out his hand. “Let me see the proposal.” Alistair turned the pages of the file with absolute focus. His long, elegant fingers looked like sculpted marble, and his expensive watch glinted in the light. Those hands looked incredibly familiar. I had seen them in one of the photos on the forum account. “Mr. Wiley, what is your forum username? I need to note it down for the guest list.” He glanced at me, remaining silent as he unlocked his tablet and opened the forum app. I leaned in slightly, holding my breath as I waited for his screen to load. When the profile page opened, the username displayed was simply Alistair Wiley. It was not EndlessSummer. The office was incredibly quiet. Because I had leaned in too close, a strand of my hair accidentally brushed against the back of his hand. “I… I am so sorry, Mr. Wiley,” I stammered, quickly backing away. Alistair’s thin lips pressed into a tight line, his entire body stiffening. He looked completely repulsed by my touch. I was definitely crazy to have ever suspected him. 5 My knees felt weak as I walked out of his office. Although the encounter had been terrifying, I had successfully ruled him out. But as I sat back down at my desk, the forum thread updated again. Situation update! You guys still claim she doesn’t like me? She just came to my office to flirt again! She reported on some completely irrelevant event, then ‘accidentally’ let her hair brush against my hand on purpose. This woman has too many tricks up her sleeve. My jaw dropped. This could not be a coincidence. The poster was Alistair Wiley. He actually believed I was trying to seduce him. Wait… does this mean he is interested in me? I shook my head vigorously, trying to clear the ridiculous thought from my mind. There was no way this workaholic capitalist was into me. He was notoriously demanding, both of his employees and himself. During the year the company went public, he had arrived at the office at four in the morning and left at midnight every single day. Even the security guards could not keep up with his schedule. People joked that if Alistair ever wanted to date, he would have to schedule it during his meals, because he could not afford to lose any more sleep. I cautiously peeked through the glass partition of his office. He was still working diligently, his expression stern, his phone sitting facedown on his desk. But the timing of the posts was too perfect. Whether he admitted it or not, I decided to put him to the test. Since he claimed he had no interest in this subordinate, I was going to have some fun. 6 I continued to bait him using my throwaway account in the comment section: I bet OP is some old, unattractive creep projecting his fantasies onto his poor subordinate. The other commenters quickly joined in: Yeah, she is just trying to do her job, and her greasy boss thinks she is trying to seduce him. This is a real-life horror story for the employee. The tone of the comment section shifted rapidly, with everyone attacking the poster’s appearance. The poster tried to defend himself: I am six-foot-two, have an eight-pack, and am highly attractive. Countless women chase me. The commenters laughed: Sure, on the internet, everyone is a six-foot-two billionaire. You are probably a keyboard warrior in real life. As the insults piled up, I sent him a private message: Do you want to prove them wrong? He replied quickly: How? Post one of those trending transition videos. Show off your physique. That will shut them up instantly. He went silent, and his profile did not update for hours. But the comment section kept growing more hostile. I scrolled through the thread, upvoting the criticisms until I was half-asleep. Just as my eyes were closing, a new post appeared on his profile. It was a video. 7 The video started in dim lighting, showing a tall, commanding silhouette. Then, a sharp, metallic sound cut through the silence. The scene cut. The lighting shifted. A warm back-light flared, framing his body perfectly. His face was hidden, but the camera started from his sculpted jaw, slid down his prominent Adam’s apple, and passed over his collarbones. He was holding two prop glowing swords, his chest muscles defined, broad, and perfectly toned. Under the shifting light, a small, dark mole on his left collarbone was faintly visible. The sheer tension and raw sex appeal are off the charts. The phone slipped from my hand, clattering onto the floor. The video ended, looping back to a black screen. I sat frozen in bed, completely stunned by the visual. The comment section erupted in chaos. Oh my god! With a body and vibe like that, you are telling me he is a greasy creep? I apologize for my previous comments, OP. Are you looking for a personal assistant? This is absolute perfection. Some of the comments were incredibly forward. I buried my face in my pillow to stifle my laughter, terrified of waking my parents in the next room. But one particular comment caught my attention: The mole on his left collarbone is incredibly attractive. Who grows a mole right there? It is practically bait. A plan began to form in my mind. If I could get a look at Alistair’s left collarbone, I could confirm my suspicions once and for all. I just needed to find that mole.

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1 In the seventh year of our relationship, I was ready to bring Lucas Whitman home to meet my mother. Before we left, my blood sugar dropped. I grabbed a clear candy at random and put it in my mouth. His childhood friend, Lila Grant, suddenly clapped and burst out laughing. “I told you she was greedy. Lucas, you lost.” “Transfer me the hundred grand.” My heart jolted. Then my breathing grew harder and harder. It was peanut candy. Over the years, Lucas had indulged Lila countless times as she used my peanut allergy as a bet. He transferred the money neatly before looking coldly at my face, already swollen beyond recognition. “I called the ambulance. We can meet your mom another time.” “Honestly, this is on you too. You should learn to control that greedy mouth.” When I woke up in the hospital, my phone was full of missed calls from my mother. I was about to call her back when a photo popped up. It was Lila. She was putting a candy into my mother’s mouth. The exact same kind I had eaten that morning. I ripped out the IV like I had gone mad and called Lucas again and again. He had always known my peanut allergy came from my mother. I didn’t even have time to put on shoes. I ran while calling nonstop. My mother’s phone would not connect. Lila kept hanging up. Then Lucas simply turned his phone off. Behind me, doctors and nurses shouted anxiously. “Stop her. Her allergic reaction is severe. She can’t go outside in this condition.” But I could not hear any of it. My mother’s allergy was far worse than mine. It could be fatal. When I was eight, she accidentally ate seasoning with a tiny trace of peanut in it and was sent straight into the ICU. The doctors issued three critical condition notices before pulling her back from death. Thinking of that, I was so terrified I could barely breathe. I kept trying to stop taxis, but no one pulled over. Finally, a kind female driver stopped in front of me. “Get in. Where are you going? I’ll take you.” Looking at the mirror inside the car, I finally understood why everyone had avoided me. My face was swollen so badly it no longer looked human. I couldn’t care about that. I gave the address in a rush. When I finally reached home and pushed open the door, I saw my mother sitting on the sofa. She was sitting upright, conscious, rosy-faced, and completely fine. The nerve stretched tight inside me suddenly snapped loose. My knees weakened, and I collapsed to the floor. When Mom saw me in such a miserable state, she immediately stood and rushed toward me. “Anna, weren’t you on a business trip? Why are you back so soon?” “What happened? Why is your face swollen like this? Why are your feet bleeding? What happened?” Her voice trembled. She touched my face carefully, afraid of hurting me. Then she seemed to think of something. “This is… peanut allergy?” I fell into her arms and nodded weakly. Mom looked at Lucas with resentment. “From the day I found out Anna was dating you, I reminded you again and again that she has a severe peanut allergy. You had to be careful.” Her voice choked. “You’ve been together so long. Don’t tell me you still haven’t remembered.” “How am I supposed to trust you with my daughter?” Guilt flashed through Lucas’s eyes. He was about to explain, but Lila spoke first. “Ma’am, your daughter was just greedy. She has no self-control.” “Lucas bought those candies for me, but she just had to snatch one and stuff it in her mouth.” “Now she’s allergic. That’s on her.” I looked at Lucas. Our eyes met. He said nothing. He silently allowed Lila to slander me. I had no time to defend myself. I grabbed my mother’s hand and checked her again and again. “Mom, the candy on the table. You really didn’t touch it, right?” “Did Lila feed you any just now?” My panic frightened my mother. “I ate one. It was strawberry flavor. What’s wrong, Anna?” Strawberry candy. I finally let out a breath. My back was already soaked with cold sweat. Thank God. Lucas still had some conscience. He knew peanuts were deadly for my mother and hadn’t let Lila do that. The stone in my heart had just landed when everything changed. My mother, who had been fine moments ago, suddenly stiffened. Without warning, she fell backward. The next second, her whole body began convulsing violently. Red rashes spread across her skin at a visible speed. Peanut allergy. “Mom!” 2 At that moment, I felt all the blood in my body rush backward. A massive terror swallowed me whole. “Lucas, hurry. Call an ambulance.” “What did you give my mom?” “There was clearly nothing with peanuts on the table. How could she be allergic?” Lucas finally realized the seriousness of the situation and hurriedly dialed emergency services. But Lila bent down beside my ear and spoke in a dark, smug whisper. “There really weren’t peanuts in her candy.” “But your mom was thirsty just now, so I poured her a cup of hot milk.” “A little peanut crumb accidentally fell into it.” With a boom, it was as if thunder had exploded above my head. I lost control completely. I lunged at Lila and clamped my hands around her throat. “You bitch. Do you know this could kill my mom?” Lila was nearly choked. When Lucas saw it, he immediately let go of my mother and slapped me hard across the face. Because my mother suddenly lost his support, her head hit the floor heavily. “Mom!” I had no time to wipe the blood from the corner of my mouth. I threw myself over and held her tightly. Something sticky touched my hand. When I looked down, blood had already stained the carpet. My heart hurt like it had been carved open. “Mom, wake up. Don’t sleep. The ambulance is coming.” My voice was hoarse beyond recognition. But Lucas was carefully checking Lila’s neck. When he saw the red mark there, he looked at me with furious eyes. “Anna, you’re insane.” “If you dare hurt Lila again, get out of this house.” My voice trembled from fear. “Lucas, she admitted it. She gave my mom milk with peanuts in it.” Guilt flickered through his eyes. But it disappeared in an instant. “It was just a little peanut crumb. It’s not like it’ll kill her.” “You and your mother are both so dramatic.” “You’ve had allergic reactions more than thirty times, and you’re still alive.” Then he glanced at me coldly. “The ambulance is almost here.” “I’ll take Lila to the hospital for a checkup first.” Seeing that they were about to leave, I endured the pain and blocked the door. “Lucas, my mom is in worse condition. Can you stay here with me?” “I’m weak all over. I’m afraid I’ll delay her treatment.” Seeing how wretched I looked, something in Lucas’s heart seemed to ache faintly. “Fine, I’ll…” Before he could finish, Lila suddenly clutched her neck. “Lucas, I feel like I can’t breathe.” “Am I going to die?” Seeing her like that, Lucas frowned. “Lila, stop making trouble. We’ll put Aunt Margaret in the ambulance first, then I’ll take you to get checked.” His tone was stiff because he was anxious. Unexpectedly, Lila crouched down and burst into tears. “Lucas, you yelled at me.” “Two years ago, what did you promise my parents?” “You said you’d take good care of me.” “But just now, your fiancée almost strangled me, and you’re still speaking for her.” Lucas stiffened. He crouched and pulled Lila into his arms. “All right. I’ll take you first.” Then he looked at me apologetically. “Anna, the paramedics will help you.” “Lila only has me.” “After all, her parents died saving me.” I stared hard into his slightly reddened eyes. “Lucas Whitman, if you walk out that door today, we are over.” 3 Lucas hesitated. Lila cried louder. The next second, he picked her up and left without looking back. “Anna, I’ll explain when I get back.” The ambulance arrived ten minutes later. The paramedics lifted my mother onto a stretcher. I followed immediately. My body was swollen from the allergic reaction, my strength was drained, and I was consumed by extreme fear. The moment I stepped into the ambulance, my vision went black. I lost consciousness completely. When I opened my eyes again, the sharp smell of disinfectant filled my nose. I sat up abruptly, my heart pounding. “My mom. Where is my mom?” I staggered to my feet, ignoring the IV cannula still in my hand, and rushed out to find her. A passing nurse hurried forward to stop me. “Please calm down. You had a severe allergic reaction yourself. Your body hasn’t recovered. You can’t move around like this.” “Where is my mom? I need to find my mom.” I clutched the nurse’s sleeve, my eyes unfocused and full of panic. I could not even form a complete sentence. The nurse looked at me with a flash of pity. “Your mother had severe laryngeal edema and anaphylactic shock. Her condition is critical. She has already been sent into emergency resuscitation.” Emergency resuscitation. Those words smashed down on my heart like stones. Just then, a doctor from the emergency room hurried over. “You’re Margaret Moore’s family member, right?” “No one signed the surgery consent form. We called the emergency contact on your phone.” “A woman answered and said she didn’t know you.” “Fortunately, you woke up. Any later, and even God couldn’t save your mother.” “Sign it. Hurry.” My whole body trembled. I stared blankly at the thin sheet of paper. When I took the pen from the doctor, it felt impossibly heavy. The emergency room light turned on again. I collapsed onto the bench in the hallway. The doctor’s words kept echoing in my head. My emergency contact was Lucas. The woman who said she did not know me was undoubtedly Lila. My heart felt like it was being torn apart. With trembling hands, I dialed that number again. The call connected quickly. Lucas spoke first. “Anna, once you get your mother settled, come apologize to Lila.” “There’s such a deep red mark on her neck. She cares so much about her appearance. What if it scars? How can you be so vicious?” I thought I had misheard. “I apologize?” “Just now my mother was in critical condition and needed a signature. The hospital called you, and Lila actually said she didn’t know me.” My voice shook with tears. “If I had woken up a little later, my mom wouldn’t have been saved.” There was a long pause. Faintly, I heard Lila’s coquettish voice. “Lucas, Anna has always disliked me.” “But she can’t curse her own mother just because she’s jealous.” “I’ve never heard of someone dying from a tiny bit of peanut crumb.” Those few sentences seemed to wake Lucas up. He spoke impatiently. “Anna, stop it.” “In these years, you’ve had allergic reactions thirty-seven times. Which time was life-threatening?” “And my phone has been beside me the whole time. If you want to frame Lila, at least find a believable reason.” “Put away that jealous look. It only makes me more annoyed and more disgusted.” Before I could speak, he hung up. I turned off the phone and sat stiffly on the bench, staring at the emergency room doors. Finally, the red light went out. The doors slowly opened. The attending doctor removed his mask and gently shook his head at me. “I’m sorry. We did everything we could.” “The patient suffered anaphylactic shock combined with intracranial bleeding. The best rescue window was delayed, leading to organ failure. We were unable to save her. Please accept our condolences.” With a thud, I fell straight to my knees. My ears buzzed. I could no longer hear anything. My only remaining family in this world was gone. I wanted to scream. I wanted to beg them to save my mother again. But when I opened my mouth, no sound came out. The days that followed were like an endless nightmare. Dragging my broken body, I took my mother’s ashes back to our hometown and handled her funeral alone. During that time, Lucas never appeared once. I went to the funeral home alone. Handled the paperwork alone. Chose the cemetery alone. Set up the memorial hall alone. During the day, I forced myself to stay composed and deal with everything. At night, I curled up beside my mother’s grave and cried until I could barely breathe. Lila’s social media updated every day. Lucas took her to pay respects to her parents. Took her traveling abroad. Took her to meet business partners. Someone teased him and asked if he had a new sister-in-law. He only smiled faintly and did not deny it. Meanwhile, I slowly calmed down and began quietly collecting evidence. My mother’s death was not an accident. It was man-made. On the last day of sorting through her belongings, I found an old box under her bed. When I opened it, most of what lay inside were photos of my parents. Ever since Dad died unexpectedly five years ago, Mom had put away the photos because she was afraid they would make me sad. I crouched on the floor and looked through the old things one by one. My fingers brushed over the yellowed photographs, and my eyes reddened. At the very bottom was a handwritten letter and a USB drive. With trembling hands, I opened the letter. My mother’s familiar handwriting appeared before me. Only a few lines revealed a cruel truth. It turned out that two years ago, in that car accident, the person who saved Lucas was my father. Lucas and I had been dating in secret then. At the time, Dad did not know that the young man he saved was my boyfriend. Later, Mom saw the photos I posted of Lucas and felt it was fate. But she did not want to use a life-saving debt to pressure anyone, so she wrote this letter, planning to give it to me when we married, so Lucas would know the truth. Holding the letter, I was already sobbing so hard I could barely breathe. Lucas, you owed me far more than one life. Then my gaze landed on the few photos beside it. Through my tears, the face of the driver in the crash gradually became clear. When I recognized that person, dizziness hit me. My vision went dark, and I nearly fainted. How could it be him?

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01 My online boyfriend sent me a Miu Miu dress. By some stroke of bad luck, my mother accidentally put the package into my younger sister’s closet. The good news was that I had just discovered my online boyfriend was actually Austin, the boy I had secretly loved for three years. The bad news was that when my sister wore the dress, he mistook her for me and confessed his love to her. Just as I was about to type out an explanation to him, a cascade of glowing bullet comments drifted across my vision: This side character is so pathetic it is almost comical. Does she still not get it? He fell for her online persona, but he is a visual creature. If it were not for the sister’s gorgeous face, the male lead would have kept her as a virtual pen pal forever. Let her speak! Once she makes a fool of herself trying to explain, the male lead will realize he actually loves the real-life sister, not some text-based avatar! I deleted my half-written text and closed the chat window. … Under the warm glow of the streetlamp, the two of them looked like a picture-perfect couple. I tossed my phone into my desk drawer and forced my eyes back to the math formulas in front of me. But the numbers blurred together, and my mind kept drifting back to my sister, Violet, and Austin. They were saying their goodbyes downstairs. Austin stood under the light, his eyes tracking her figure until she safely crossed the threshold of our building. Outside my door, my mother was already teasing Violet, asking when they had started dating and why she had kept it a secret. She claimed she was not a conservative parent; as long as it did not affect her grades, she would not stand in their way. Violet covered her burning cheeks, her voice dropping to a soft, hushed tone as she glanced toward my room, worried she might disrupt my studying. “He really just confessed to me today! I was completely shocked too.” “He said he has been watching me for a long time, and he even praised how beautiful I looked in this dress!” She wrapped her arms around our mother’s shoulder, leaning in close. “Thank you for buying me this dress, Mom.” It was only then that my mother realized something was off. She had never bought Violet that dress. She had simply assumed Violet had purchased it with her own allowance. Violet blinked in confusion, her gaze instinctively turning toward my closed door. The bullet comments instantly erupted into a wave of adoration: Violet looks so adorable and guilty. My heart is melting. To be fair, that dress looks ten times better on Violet anyway! Do not feel bad, Violet! Once Austin is officially your boyfriend, he will buy you a dozen more, dressing you up like a real-life Barbie to show up that bitter sister. Violet quickly changed out of the dress. Despite her hair still being damp from the shower, she carefully hand-washed the garment, dried it, and folded it neatly. She even tried to drag our mother into my room to apologize to me. But my mother did not believe she had done anything wrong. “I cook and clean for you girls every single day, and now I am the one in the wrong?” my mother grumbled. “It was just a laundry mistake. We can just swap it back! Since when does a mother have to bow down and apologize to her own children?” But this was not the first time. It was never a simple mistake. Whenever a piece of clothing was new, expensive, or brightly colored, my mother would subconsciously place it in Violet’s closet. The worn, dark, or oversized hand-me-downs always found their way into mine. When I first received the package from Austin, I had been so terrified of this exact scenario that I did not even throw it into the shared laundry hamper. I had hand-washed it myself and hung it up on my personal balcony. Yet, when I woke up the next morning, the dress was gone. When I asked my mother about it, she scolded me for being disorganized and leaving my things lying around. I had sat at my desk, intending to message Austin to apologize and admit I had lost his gift, when his chat popped up first. His excitement practically radiated through the screen. I found you. I looked out the window. He was standing right in front of Violet, his smile incredibly tender. A moment later, the door to my room opened. Violet stood there, holding the neatly folded dress out to me. “I am so sorry, Sylvia. I did not know this was yours…” I cut her off quietly. “Just put it at the bottom of the wardrobe.” After all, I would never have the chance to wear it now. 02 The bullet comments flared up again, defensive of Violet: Why is she being so cold? Violet did not do it on purpose. But this time, a solitary voice spoke up for me: Let me put on some armor before I speak, but I have to be fair to the sister here. Violet might not have meant to, but her actions caused Austin to confess to the wrong person. Watching your three-year crush confess to your own sister is a nightmare for any teenage girl. It is completely normal that she cannot bring herself to smile. One by one, the lights in the house went out. The living room, our parents’ bedroom, and Violet’s room fell dark. Only after I clicked off my desk lamp did the darkness swallow me completely. The blue light of my phone screen reflected off the tears dampening my cheeks. Austin and I had met through an online film forum. He had posted a query: Can anyone help me find a movie? I only remember one scene set in a dimly lit library. The male lead is leaning against a bookshelf, reading a book. I had stumbled across the post during my lunch break and left a brief reply: It sounds like Love Letter by Shunji Iwai. When I reopened the app later, I found he had left dozen of thank-you messages and had even tried to send me a digital tip. I was quite active on the forum back then, using a profile picture of an apple and helping users identify obscure films for free. But Austin still sent me a private message, explaining that the movie was his late mother’s absolute favorite. He remembered her watching it repeatedly when he was a child, but he had never been able to recall the title. He insisted on finding a way to show his gratitude. Eventually, we exchanged contact details. I was a quiet, reserved person, but Austin’s warmth was like a constant sun. He quietly monitored every thread I commented on, occasionally sending me silly emojis of clumsy golden retrievers, joking about how he had tried to search for a film as fast as he could but was still a few seconds slower than me. He eventually noticed that my profile picture and username were both related to apples. He asked if it was my favorite fruit. My favorite artist is Shiina Ringo, I had replied. And Ringo means apple in Japanese. That was the first time I had initiated a personal detail. The moment I hit send, I flipped my phone face down on the desk, my heart racing. I wrote in my diary that night: Revealing your personal tastes to someone is far more terrifying than any spam pop-up. From the day he added me, his social media was completely open to me. He posted photos of his school crest, English test papers, and the view of the courtyard from his classroom window. It was far easier to identify him than any movie. I quickly matched his posts with the boy I had been quietly watching at school. The final confirmation came during a physical education class. Austin and a group of boys walked past my classroom window. One of his friends laughed and teased him: “Since when did you change your profile picture to Isaac Newton? Is that your secret to topping the physics exams?” Austin shoved him playfully, laughing. But as he passed my window, the cord of my white earphones slipped from my school uniform. His voice carried clearly through the open window, hitting me with absolute clarity. “I am just waiting for my apple to fall.” The thump of my own heartbeat drowned out the music playing in my ears. That night, I opened my social media to him and accepted his gift of the Miu Miu dress. There is a special screening at the archive cinema this weekend, he had written. If you are willing to go with me, wear this dress to school. I will find you. The next morning, a hand lightly tapped my shoulder. I turned around, but the moment the boy saw my face, his bright expression stiffened into awkward embarrassment. “Oh… sorry, I thought you were someone else.” Violet quickly stepped in, hooking her arm through mine with a bright laugh. “You silly boy, this is my older sister!” Watching their hands naturally clasp together, I forced a blank smile and quietly returned to my seat. Since reading those bullet comments, I had stopped replying to Austin’s messages. He had endless things to talk about with Violet at school, and he did not seem to notice my silence at all. Until one afternoon, Violet casually tossed an apple onto my desk. “Why are you and Austin both so obsessed with apples? It is such a boring fruit.” Austin, who was standing nearby, froze instantly. 03 Before he could ask me anything, a burly man with heavily tattooed arms stormed into our classroom, heading straight for my desk. “Are you Sylvia Carter? You are the one who scammed my money, right?” He claimed to be my online boyfriend, pulling out a tablet to display several explicit, highly inappropriate photos of a girl who looked exactly like me. He claimed I had sent them to him and had recently demanded a large bank transfer from him before agreeing to meet him at a hotel. I stared at the screen, my heart dropping. I did not even recognize this man. “That is not my account. You have been scammed.” But he refused to believe me, and the surrounding students began to murmur. “I cannot believe she is actually like this.” “She is the complete opposite of her sister. Having a sister like that must be so embarrassing.” My desperate protests of “It wasn’t me” were quickly drowned out by the rising tide of whispers. The man sneered, leaning over my desk. “Sylvia Carter, Class Two, Senior Year. How many Sylvias do you think there are in this school?” “Either you come to a hotel with me right now, or you return every single cent I spent on you!” As he reached out to grab my wrist, a hand suddenly shot out, intercepting him and shielding me behind a broad shoulder. It was Austin. The bullet comments reacted with sheer shock: Why is the male lead protecting her? Did he figure out she is the online friend because of the apple? If he actually falls for this side character, I am dropping this book. Here we go again, slandering female characters with zero proof. There is literally no evidence she actually did any of that. The homeroom teacher arrived quickly, and the police were called to escort the man out of the building. To minimize the disruption, the school administration asked Violet to contact our parents so I could be taken home for the afternoon. Austin walked with me to a bench in the quiet courtyard. Clutching my cold hands, I looked up at him, clinging to a desperate shred of hope. “Do you believe me?” He cracked open a bottle of apple juice and handed it to me. “Violet cares about you very much. For her sake, I will help you find the truth.” His help had nothing to do with me. It was merely an extension of his affection for my sister. 04 The investigation concluded far faster than I anticipated. Before my mother even arrived at the school, the female officer in charge of the case confirmed that the photos had been generated using AI. The identity registration of the scam account did not belong to me either. As for who had set up the account to trick the man, the police were still running diagnostics. “It is not your fault, Sylvia,” the officer said gently, patting my shoulder. “I will speak to your parents and your school administration. Your classmates will understand.” The bullet comments echoed her words, drowning out the negative remarks. But the moment my mother stepped into the office, she did not ask if I was alright. Instead, she raised her hand and delivered a stinging slap across my face. “You embarrassing brat! I knew you were up to no good, staring at your phone all day!” “I never told you that you could not date, but if you had met a decent boy like Austin, would I have ever stopped you? Instead, you go out and find this absolute garbage!” I should have stayed quiet. With a woman like my mother, silence was the only defense. If I kept quiet, she would eventually run out of steam. If I argued, she would only become more vicious. But the hollow ache in my chest had been building for too long. I could not stop the words from slipping out. “Did I go out of my way to find garbage, or do you honestly believe I only deserve garbage?” Why did she always put the expensive, beautiful clothes into Violet’s closet, leaving only the old, dull things for me? Why was her profile picture always a photo of just her and Violet? When I finally asked her about it, she had scolded me for being overly sensitive before changing it to a generic landscape. Why did she instantly assume Violet’s online match was a brilliant student like Austin, while mine must be some low-life criminal? “If you are so innocent, unlock your phone!” my mother barked, snatching the device from my hand. She quickly swiped her own birthdate into the lock screen. “Let us see exactly what kind of online friends you have been keeping!” Just as she was about to open my chat history with Austin, the office door flew open. Austin ran inside, breathing heavily. “We found the person who did it.” 05 In the quiet hallway, Austin slipped a cherry popsicle into my hand, nodding toward my swollen cheek. He had kept his promise to find the culprit. While the police were analyzing the digital footprints, Austin had noticed that some of the photos posted on the scammer’s social feed featured a background that matched the school’s art building. Focusing his search on the art and music classes, he had gathered the students and bluffed, claiming the police had already identified the owner of the IP address. “The administration is willing to give the person a chance,” he had told them. “If they confess now, we won’t pursue legal charges.” Terrified, a girl from the music department immediately stepped forward. She confessed that she had a grudge against Violet, but when she went looking for Violet’s personal details, she had accidentally copied my student profile instead. She figured that ruining the older sister’s reputation would destroy Violet’s standing just as effectively. Upon hearing this, Violet’s face flushed with anger. She lunged forward, intending to kick the girl, but Austin quickly held her back. “Let the teachers handle it, Violet. Do not get suspended over this.” Violet turned to our mother, her voice trembling with indignation. “Mom, you have to apologize to Sylvia. You hit her without even knowing the truth!” My mother shifted uncomfortably, her gaze darting around the room as she muttered defensive excuses. “I was just terrified for her!” “And besides, even if she did not do it this time, she is always staring at her phone. A young girl hanging around online is bound to meet some shady characters eventually.” Austin’s expression hardened. “Mrs. Carter, Violet and I met online too.” Violet looked up at him, a flicker of panic crossing her eyes. Yet, she did not speak up to correct him. This is so painful to watch, a bullet comment read. Violet has realized that Austin’s confession was meant for her sister. But she still hasn’t told him the truth. She is not returning him to Sylvia. Why should she? He is the male lead. And honestly, even if Sylvia reveals the truth, Austin will still choose Violet in the end. Want to bet? I reached into my pocket, unlocked my phone, and turned the screen toward the room. “Do you want to see my online boyfriend?” 06 “Your online boyfriend…” Violet whispered that night. “It was Austin, wasn’t it?” She had crept into my room with her pillow, lying down beside me as if she had not spent the afternoon pretending to have a sprained ankle to distract everyone from seeing my phone screen. Seeing my silence, she offered a small, bitter smile. “Do not look at me like that, Sylvia. It is Austin we are talking about.” “When a boy with those bright, adoring eyes looks at you like you are his entire world… anyone would want to steal a little bit of that magic, even if it does not belong to them.” She had known the truth since the day of his confession. The specific details and memories he had mentioned during his speech were things she had no recollection of. But because she liked him, she had continuously made up excuses to keep the illusion alive. She had claimed her old phone was broken, which was why she no longer used the ‘apple’ account, and she had pretended our entire family was obsessed with apples. She had resolved that if anyone else had been the owner of that account, she would never have let go of him. “But that person was you, my own sister.” I stared at her, unsure of what she was trying to achieve. Suddenly, my phone vibrated with a message from Austin. Can we meet outside the archive cinema tonight? There are some things I need to clear up. Violet sat up, as if she had anticipated this. She reached into her bag, pulling out the Miu Miu dress with one hand and her makeup bag with the other. “Go on, Cinderella,” she said softly. “Let me help you put things back where they belong before the clock strikes midnight.” The bullet comments were stunned: The classic plot of the sister stepping aside is actually happening. Violet has her own pride. She could never live a lie forever, pretending to be someone else just to keep a boy. Honestly, I am not sure which one he will choose now. “Do not worry, he will fall for you,” Violet whispered, applying a light coat of lip gloss to my lips. But as she leaned back, a flicker of sadness crossed her eyes. As we walked out, my phone kept chiming with notifications. Austin was going back through every single post and comment I had ever made on the forum, liking them one by one. The steady hum of the notifications sounded like the steady, nervous beat of a heart. I practically ran to the entrance of the cinema, a bright smile on my face, ready to explain everything. But before I could speak, Austin quietly interrupted me. “Thank you, Sylvia.” “But… I think I have my answer now.” He had not called me here to verify if I was his online partner. A boy as clever as Austin had noticed the discrepancies long ago. Violet’s confession had merely confirmed his suspicions. He had asked to meet me tonight to answer a single question: If I had been the one standing under the streetlamp that night, would his heart have beat the same way? Seeing me in the dress, he realized the spark simply was not there. He pulled out his phone and transferred five thousand dollars to my account. “I am truly sorry for taking up so much of your time. I hope we can still be friends.” He looked at the Miu Miu dress, his voice dropping. “But… I would appreciate it if you did not wear that dress again.” “It looks beautiful on you. But I want the memory of that dress to belong only to Violet.”

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1 The day I miscarried and suffered a massive hemorrhage, my parents rushed to the hospital through a torrential downpour. They never made it. A truck T-boned their car halfway there. As I lay on the cold operating table, my hands, stained red with my own blood, shook violently as I signed their emergency surgery consent forms. In the end, I could not save my baby, and the doctors could not save my parents. The one person who should have been by my side, the man whose calls I had desperately tried to reach all night, was busy posting a celebration on his social media feed. Congratulations to Barnaby! A long night of hard work, and she is finally a mom. With what little strength I had left, I tapped the like button. Within seconds, my phone vibrated with a direct message from him. It was incredibly brief, containing just two words. Delete it. I sent him my real-time location at the hospital. Come here. I need to talk to you face-to-face. I have something important to take care of, so I cannot make it! If you need a prenatal checkup, ask your parents to go with you. It is not like they have anything else to do. Your so-called important business is delivering her dog’s puppies? Why does being pregnant turn you into such a jealous shrew? You are seriously jealous of a dog now? I did not have the energy to argue with him. Since he refused to show up, he could talk to my lawyer instead. … By the time I finished handling my parents’ final arrangements, it was late the following evening. I dragged my exhausted, aching body through the front door of our apartment. The place, which I always kept meticulously clean, was an absolute disaster. Gavin was bent over the coffee table, rummaging through drawers and tossing papers onto the floor. He did it with the practiced ease of a man who assumed someone else would always clean up after him. Hearing the door click, he did not even look up. His voice held a sharp edge of irritation. “Where the hell have you been all weekend? I had to order takeout for lunch.” I stood frozen. He had not come home last night either. For the past two years, this had been our life. When the lights in Tessa’s apartment flickered out, he would jump out of bed in the middle of the night to fix them. Yet he forgot to lock our own front door, allowing a drunk intruder to stumble into our living room, leaving me with nightmares for an entire month. When Tessa’s dog went into labor, he refused to accompany me to my checkup. He had even taken a week of paid leave to stay by her side, acting as if delivering puppies was a job for a chief surgeon rather than a veterinarian. Receiving no response, Gavin finally turned to look at me. His annoyance quickly gave way to a flicker of surprise. “You look incredibly pale. Is the baby acting up again?” I took a step back, dodging his hand as he reached toward my stomach. My voice was entirely flat. “I called you seventy-six times yesterday. Why did you not answer?” Gavin’s hand remained suspended in midair, his brow furrowing. “Ann, are you seriously cross-examining me right now?” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Tessa and I grew up together. Barnaby is not just a pet to her; she has had that dog since she was a kid. Tessa was absolutely beside herself with worry, and I had to help with the delivery. In a life-and-death situation like that, how was I supposed to answer your pointless calls?” “It was just a routine checkup. Plenty of pregnant women go to those by themselves. Even if you could not handle it, your parents are always free. What difference does it make if I am not there?” Looking at his self-righteous expression, a bitter question formed in my throat. What about my parents? The crash had been horrific. My father had lost all signs of life before the ambulance even arrived. My mother made it to the operating room, but her injuries were incredibly severe and complex. Gavin’s colleague had pulled me aside, telling me that only Gavin, with his specialized expertise and knowledge of her medical history, could give her a fighting chance. Gavin had claimed he was too busy to pick up my calls. Yet the moment I liked his social media post, he had instantly messaged me to demand I undo it, terrified that Tessa might feel slighted. “Is she really just a childhood friend?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. “Because I saw you kiss her, Gavin.” It had happened at the very restaurant where he proposed to me, in the exact same booth. Distracted by the sheer shock of it, I had stepped off the curb without seeing the speeding motorcycle. Although the rider braked in time, the sheer impact of hitting the pavement was enough to destroy the tiny, three-month-old life inside me. 2 Panic, rare and sudden, flickered in Gavin’s dark eyes. “Tessa was just so overwhelmed about Barnaby, so I took her out to get some fresh air. She had a few too many drinks, and…” His tone softened, taking on a placating warmth. “Alright, let us not dwell on this. I promise I will accompany you to your next appointment.” It was always the same routine. A flimsy excuse to brush off my pain, followed by a sweet promise to pretend nothing had ever happened. But Gavin, you will never have to go to another appointment with me. “Do not bother. Let us get a divorce.” Gavin stiffened, his face flushing with sudden anger. “Ann, is this just what you journalists do? Do you always have to sensationalize everything? I told you, it was a mistake. Do you really need to make a federal case out of this?” “Look at yourself. You are working a dead-end administrative desk job at the station. You are turning thirty, you are pregnant, and who else is going to want you if I leave?” “I work myself to the bone at the hospital every single day for this family. I do not come home to deal with your childish tantrums!” He grabbed his coat and stormed toward the door. As he reached the entryway, his eyes caught on a piece of paper sticking out of my purse. The words Death Certificate were printed in bold black ink. Gavin paused, confusion crossing his face. “Who died?” He reached down to pull the document from my bag, but before his fingers could touch it, his phone blared. Tessa’s frantic, sobbing voice filled the quiet hallway. “Gavin, one of the puppies is choking on milk! The shop is packed with customers, and I do not know what to do. Is it going to die? I am so scared…” Gavin’s posture instantly tensed with anxiety. “Do not cry, Tessa. I am on my way.” Without a backward glance, he threw open the door and rushed out, leaving the apartment quiet once more. He was in such a hurry that he forgot to lock his private study. Driven by a strange, hollow impulse, I walked into the room. My eyes immediately caught on something shoved under the desk leg to keep it level. Years ago, I had been the most promising rookie reporter at the network. I had been assigned to interview the notoriously stubborn, retired chief of medicine. After pulling several consecutive all-nighters to prep, my blood sugar plummeted, and I fainted in the hospital courtyard. Gavin was the one who found me. He had helped me up and told me that the old chief would never agree to an interview. As I hung my head in disappointment, he had slipped an orange candy into my hand, offering me a bright, boyish smile. “But I happen to admire people who take their work seriously. So, why don’t you interview me instead?” Only later did I discover he was the youngest, most brilliant medical professor in the city. Dozens of seasoned journalists had tried to land an interview with him, yet he had broken his own rules just for me. That was how our story began. Later, as our careers grew more demanding, Gavin had looked at me with deep concern. “Ann, I know becoming a chief correspondent is your dream. But my parents are getting older and need support. Could you consider stepping back? I promise I will cherish you for the rest of our lives.” I knew how much his own career meant to him. So, I compromised. I did not resign, but I transferred to a low-pressure administrative role just to keep a connection to the field I loved. During countless sleepless nights, I would sit under the desk lamp, tracing the edges of my press credentials. Whenever Gavin caught me, his face would fill with guilt, and he would hold me close, repeating his promises of a beautiful future. Yet now, that very press badge, the symbol of the career I had sacrificed for him, was being used as a piece of trash to prop up a wobbly desk leg. Using Tessa’s birthdate, I easily bypassed the lock on his safe. Sitting right at the top was a thick manila envelope. Inside were dozens of photographs of the two of them, embracing, kissing, walking hand-in-hand along a sunlit beach. There were also receipts. Gavin had funded her apartment, her pet shop, and her renovations. He had poured thousands of dollars into her business every month, quietly covering her constant losses. 3 Written across the front of the envelope in Gavin’s sharp, elegant handwriting was a single sentence. I will always fight to keep your dreams alive. I stared at those words for a long time. My mind flashed back over the last five years, years spent caring for his parents, cooking his meals, and scrubbing his floors. I remembered the quiet ache I felt whenever I saw my former colleagues working late, fueled by the thrill of a major story. A dry, hollow laugh escaped my lips. So, he did know how to support someone’s dreams. He just chose to support hers, not mine. I took photos of every document and placed them back exactly as I found them. My decision was finally clear. I dialed a familiar number. “Hi, Bernice. I heard the network is looking for a war correspondent to go to Central Asia, and no one has volunteered yet. If you are willing to take a chance on me, I would like to go.” There was a long pause on the other end before Bernice spoke, her voice thick with excitement. “Ann? Truly? I was devastated when you moved to administration. This is an incredible opportunity. It is highly dangerous, of course, but the experience will completely redefine your career when you return. Pack your bags. You will be leaving in a few days.” I hung up and began to pack. There was nothing in this apartment that belonged to me anymore, save for one thing: a soft, hand-knitted wool sweater my mother had finished just before she died. When I was a child, she had knitted all my clothes. As she grew older and her eyesight began to fail, I had begged her to stop, not wanting her to strain herself. But during my pregnancy, I had become highly sensitive to the cold. My mother had secretly stayed up late for weeks, her eyes bloodshot, waving off my concerns with a gentle smile. “Handmade things are always warmer, Ann. You love the baby in your belly, and I love my own baby girl.” I had cherished it so much that I had never even worn it. Yet as I searched the closet, the sweater was nowhere to be found. I was about to call Gavin when my phone chimed with a notification. Tessa had just posted a new update. The puppies were shivering after being born, and someone immediately rushed over with the perfect blanket! Thank you to the puppies’ proud godfather! Of course, my own sewing skills are pretty stellar too. Gavin had spent the day helping her celebrate the puppies’ survival. In the photo, their heads were pressed close together, smiling warmly at the camera. Each of them held three tiny puppies. And at a single glance, I recognized the fabric. The miniature dog coats the puppies were wearing had been cut from my mother’s hand-knitted sweater. My chest tightened as I pushed open the glass door of the pet boutique. Inside, Gavin and Tessa were laughing, sharing a slice of cake with the exact same spoon. Gavin was an extreme germaphobe. At home, his utensils had to be sterilized and kept separate, and he refused to eat family-style without serving spoons. Once, after a long day of cleaning, I had taken a sip from his water glass. He had said nothing at the time, but that evening, the glass was sitting in the trash. He had claimed it was a habit from working in sterile hospital environments. Clearly, those rules only applied to me. Seeing me enter, Tessa arched an eyebrow, her smile dripping with sweet malice. “Oh, Ann! You are here. Gavin and I have been sharing things since we were kids, so please do not mind us. See, Gavin? I told you she would never actually divorce you.” She leaned against the counter, sighing dramatically. “After all, a woman with no career who relies entirely on her husband… if she leaves you, how is she going to support herself, let alone her parents? Running all the way here just to check up on you, she really keeps you on a short leash. I guess I am just too proud. I would rather work hard and be a self-made woman.” Gavin pinched her cheek affectionately. “You are always the clever one, are you not?” Then, he turned to look at me, his expression softening into the patronizing look of a parent forgiving a difficult child. 4 “That is enough, Ann. Since you came all this way to make amends, I will pretend I never heard that nonsense about a divorce.” “Go on home and clean up the apartment. The puppies are still very fragile, so I need to stay here and help Tessa monitor them for a few more days.” Listening to them, a wave of disgust washed over me. One of them played the mistress with absolute pride, while the other painted his emotional infidelity as some noble duty. Ignoring Gavin, I looked directly at Tessa and let out a cold laugh. “Since you are so exceptionally capable, Miss Tessa, why does an independent, self-made woman resort to stealing another woman’s husband and her clothes? Is this ‘strong woman’ act just a cover for your career as a professional homewrecker?” A couple of female customers browsing near the registers turned to look at Tessa in shock. “Wait, you two aren’t married? But sharing a spoon like that… that is a bit inappropriate, is it not?” “Yeah, when I said you two looked like a beautiful couple earlier, you did not correct me. He actually has a wife?” Tessa’s face flushed a deep, angry red. Seeing her expression, the customers murmured in disgust, put down their items, and quickly walked out the door. Tessa’s eyes welled with tears as she turned to Gavin, her voice trembling. “Gavin, is she trying to ruin my business on purpose?” “I only used that sweater because it was warm and soft, perfect for the newborn puppies. She already spends so much of your money; she must have a closet full of clothes! Why does she have to slander me like this? Those were some of my best clients!” Gavin quickly wiped her tears, turning a furious glare in my direction. “Ann, I was the one who took the sweater. Why are you attacking Tessa? It is just a cheap piece of clothing. When did you become so incredibly petty?” “Besides, you are going to gain weight later in your pregnancy anyway, so you would not even fit into it. Just ask your mother to knit you another one. It is not some designer label; why are you acting like it is made of gold?” Looking at his arrogant, dismissive face, the last thread of my restraint snapped. I stepped forward and slapped him hard across the face. “Yes, my mother made it, so it is priceless! Because she can never knit another one for me again!” I screamed, my voice cracking with raw grief. “While you were playing family with your little childhood sweetheart, choosing to deliver her dog’s puppies instead of answering my desperate calls, my parents died!” Gavin’s eyes went wide. His hand dropped from Tessa’s shoulder. “What did you say? Your parents…” Before he could finish, Tessa lunged forward and shoved me hard. “How dare you hit him!” she shrieked. “It is just a stupid piece of fabric! Nobody wants your trash anyway, take it back!” She reached down, ripped the miniature coats off the puppies, and threw the shredded wool directly into a dirty litter box near the door. “And stop lying about your parents dying! I literally saw your mother and father at the supermarket this morning!” “I cannot stand parasites like you who use pregnancy to play the victim, making up horrible lies just to manipulate their husbands. You are an absolute embarrassment to women!” The litter box had not been cleaned yet. The clumps of soiled clay stuck to the delicate wool, instantly ruining my mother’s final gift. “I… I am sorry, I did not mean to…” the young shop assistant stammered, terrified by the raw fury in my eyes. A cold, burning hatred flooded my veins. I turned back to Tessa, raising my hand to strike the woman who had destroyed the last piece of my mother I had left. But before my hand could land, Gavin stepped in. A sharp, deafening crack echoed through the quiet boutique.

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