Category: English

“When is he finally going to get the hint and leave?” The voice coming from the breakroom wasn’t loud, but in the sterile silence of the hallway, every syllable landed with the weight of a stone. I stood frozen near the doorway, my ceramic mug tight in my hand. I didn’t breathe. “Soon, surely. It’s been three months.” “I’ll bet you a steak dinner he’s gone by Friday.” “You’re on.” I turned on my heel and walked back to my desk. My desk was situated directly next to the men’s restroom. The air there always carried a faint, chemical tang of industrial cleaner and stale plumbing, twenty-four hours a day. I sat down, woke my computer, and continued working on my spreadsheets. No one knew what I had been documenting every single day for the past three months. And no one knew how long the list of names was that I would be reading aloud at the Holiday Gala. 1. My name is Gavin Calloway. I am thirty-two years old. Three months ago, I was transferred to this branch office with the nebulous title of “Specialist.” I had no specific job description, no clear line of reporting, and not even a permanent ID badge. HR’s explanation was smooth and practiced: “It’s a transition period, Gavin. Just take some time to settle in.” I didn’t ask what “transition period” meant. I didn’t ask what I was supposed to be settling into. I just clocked in at nine sharp, sat at my desk, and built spreadsheets that nobody asked for. The first week, a few people offered tentative hellos. By the second week, the greetings evaporated. By the third week, the entire department—over twenty people—acted as if I were a ghost haunting the cubicles. If I walked down the aisle, they parted. If I sat in the breakroom, voices dropped to a hush. If I entered the kitchen, the laughter died instantly. I’m not stupid. I knew exactly what was happening. But I didn’t say a word. I just came in, did the work, and went home. On a Monday morning, I found my belongings in a box. My desk had been moved. Originally, I had a view of the parking lot; now, I was wedged against the wall sharing a partition with the restroom. “Mr. Calloway,” the administrative assistant said, her smile brittle and overly sweet. “It’s much quieter over here. We thought it would suit you better.” I looked at her. I didn’t say a thing. Fine. Move me. I carried my monitor over, arranged my binders, and went back to work. The restroom door opened and closed all day, wafting drafts of air freshener and dampness. People walked by, covering their noses and snickering. I pretended I was deaf and blind. At noon, the department had a team lunch. I was the last to know. Correction: I didn’t “know.” I discovered it. At twelve-thirty, the bullpen was a ghost town. I went to refill my water and heard the faint ding of the elevator and the echo of raucous laughter fading down the shaft. Back at my desk, I checked the group chat on my phone. A photo had just been posted. “Lunch on Director Hanes! Bottoms up!” The picture showed a table groaning under plates of appetizers, twenty-odd people raising wine glasses, beaming at the camera. I scrolled up. No one had tagged me. No one had typed, Hey Gavin, are you coming? It was a total erasure of my existence. They returned at two o’clock. Brett Cavallari, the Marketing Manager, led the pack. His face was flushed with expensive Cabernet. He paused as he passed my exile by the bathroom. “Oh! Gavin! You didn’t come to lunch?” I looked up from my screen. “Nobody invited me.” He blinked, a theatrical performance of surprise, before a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Ah, damn. Slipped my mind. Next time, buddy.” He walked away. I lowered my head and resumed typing. A colleague in the next cubicle whispered, “God, stop acting like a victim. Waiting for an engraved invitation?” Another voice giggled. “He’s got thick skin. Let him rot.” I didn’t turn around. Instead, I opened a fresh, blank document. On the first line, I typed: December 3rd. Department Lunch. Expense Account Misuse. Exclusionary Tactics. Then I listed their names, one by one. Save. Close. Return to the spreadsheets. At four o’clock, I finished a comprehensive market analysis report. This was work I had found for myself; nobody had assigned it, nobody expected it. But I did it, and I did it with precision. I emailed the PDF to Brett Cavallari and cc’d Director Hanes. “Brett, attached is the Q4 market data analysis for your review.” Five minutes later, Brett replied. “Received.” One word. The next day, I saw the report on Director Hanes’s LinkedIn feed. The caption read: “Incredible work by the Cavallari Team! This depth of analysis is world-class!” The comments section was a chorus of praise. “Brett is a machine!” “Great leadership, Brett!” “Detailed and sharp. Kudos to the team!” I opened the PDF attached to the post. On the title page, my name was gone. It now read: Author: The Cavallari Team. I stared at those words for a long time. The screen blurred slightly, then sharpened again. I opened my private document. New line. December 4th. Intellectual Property Theft. Plagiarism. Brett Cavallari. Save. Close. The pattern repeated itself over the next few days. My slide deck became Lisa’s presentation. My data cleanup became Ryan’s “initiative.” My strategic proposal became “Departmental Collective Wisdom.” Every single time, I wrote it down. Date. Content. Personnel involved. Item by item. Crystal clear. On Friday afternoon, Brett called me into his office. “Gavin.” He was leaning back in his leather chair, ankle resting on his knee, looking every inch the king of his little kingdom. “How long have you been with us?” “Three weeks.” “How’s it feeling?” “It’s fine.” He smiled, but the warmth didn’t reach his eyes. It was a shark’s smile. “Fine? You think your performance is ‘fine’?” I stayed silent. “Gavin, let me be level with you.” He leaned forward, dropping the casual facade. “You don’t fit in here. The culture… it’s not for you.” “Oh.” “Look at you. You’re antisocial. You’re passive. You sit there alone all day like a piece of furniture.” “Okay.” “Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?” I looked him in the eye, keeping my voice flat. “Brett, what would you like me to say?” He scoffed, a short, sharp sound. “I want you to have some self-awareness. If you were smart, you’d draft a resignation letter today. The company will give you a severance package. Walk away with some dignity.” “And if I don’t?” “If you don’t?” He leaned back again, lacing his fingers behind his head. “Then don’t blame me for what happens next. I won’t be polite about it.” I stood up. “Okay. I understand.” “Understand what?” “That you won’t be polite.” I walked out and closed the door softly behind me. Back at my desk, I opened the document. December 8th. Verbal intimidation. Coercion to resign. Threat of retaliation. Brett Cavallari. Save. Close. I glanced at the calendar on the wall. Three months. It was enough time. 2. By the fourth week, the isolation mutated into active hostility. It wasn’t just ignoring me anymore. Meetings happened without me. My reimbursement requests were “accidentally” lost. The printer jammed every time I sent a document, and miraculously fixed itself when Lisa walked up. When I requested basic office supplies, the system rejected me. I bought my own stapler. My own pens. I even brought in a ream of paper from home. One afternoon, I went to the admin desk to ask for a notebook. The assistant, Becca, gave me that plastic smile again. “Mr. Calloway, I don’t see a request in the portal.” “I submitted it last week.” She shrugged. “Glitch in the system, maybe? Try again.” I submitted it again. A week later, still nothing. I stopped asking. I went to the CVS downstairs, bought a three-pack of spiral notebooks, and used those. On Wednesday afternoon, I overheard the betting pool in the breakroom. “I bet he quits this week.” “I say next week.” “What’s the wager?” “Ruth’s Chris. Steak and martinis. Winner takes all.” “Deal.” I stood outside the door, holding my empty mug, motionless. They hadn’t seen me. “Why doesn’t he just leave? It’s pathetic. He’s got no pride.” “Probably holding out for the severance.” “Severance? Who does he think he is? He’s a nobody.” Laughter. Sharp and jagged. I turned around, making my footsteps soft on the carpet. Back at my desk, I opened the document. December 11th. Hostile work environment. Betting pool on employee termination. Harassment. Save. I looked at the screen and felt a small, cold smile touch my lips. Steak dinner. Sounds nice. I’ll be treating you all soon enough. That afternoon, Brett made his move. The Monthly Department All-Hands meeting. Mandatory for everyone. Ten minutes before the hour, the office began to stir. People were grabbing notepads and laptops. I turned to Ryan in the next cubicle. “Is there a meeting?” He glanced at me, eyes sliding away, and grabbed his coffee. Didn’t say a word. Just walked off. I stood up and caught Lisa in the hallway. “Lisa, what time is the meeting? Which conference room?” Lisa didn’t even break stride. “I don’t know.” I stood there in the aisle, watching them file out, one by one, disappearing around the corner like a receding tide. The office fell silent. Just me. I checked my email. No invite. I checked the Slack channel. Nothing. I sat back down. December 12th. Exclusion from mandatory all-hands meeting. deliberate obstruction of information. I thought for a moment, then typed: Meeting agenda: TBD. Thirty minutes later, they flooded back. Brett was at the front, looking annoyed about something. He stopped when he saw me. “Gavin. Why weren’t you at the meeting?” I looked up. “I wasn’t invited.” “We sent the invite,” he said, frowning with exaggerated confusion. “It was on the group calendar.” “I checked. It wasn’t.” “Well, maybe you just missed it.” His tone dripped with condescension. “Pay closer attention next time.” I didn’t argue. He walked away. I pulled out my phone and took a screenshot of the group calendar. Empty. I took a screenshot of my inbox. Empty. I dragged the images into a secure folder. Evidence +1. Friday was my birthday. No one knew. No one asked. I sat by the restroom, eating a cold turkey sandwich from the vending machine, staring out the window. The sky was the color of wet concrete, matching the endless sprawl of office parks. I was thirty-two. Ten years ago, I was fresh out of college, hungry and ambitious. Five years ago, I was in middle management, feeling like I owned the world. One year ago, I was transferred here to start over. Now, I was the guy by the toilet eating a vending machine sandwich on his birthday. My phone pinged. An email. Sender: HR Subject: [Action Required] Exit Interview Schedule I clicked it open. Mr. Calloway, please report to HR on December 15th at 3:00 PM for your exit interview. I stared at the screen. An exit interview. They hadn’t even fired me yet. They hadn’t even spoken to me. They just sent the invite, assuming I would break. I didn’t reply. I opened my document. December 13th. Preemptive termination procedure. Constructive discharge attempt. I closed the laptop. I stood up, grabbed my coat, and walked out. The elevator was empty. I caught my reflection in the polished steel doors. I looked tired, but my eyes were clear. Three weeks down. They didn’t know who I was. They didn’t know why I was here. And they certainly didn’t know what was going to happen at the Holiday Gala in three months. I pressed the button for the lobby. No rush. Let them dig the hole a little deeper. 3. I arrived at the exit interview exactly on time. The HR Manager, Pamela, was in her early thirties, rimless glasses, soft cardigan. She looked harmless. But her opening line told me everything I needed to know. “Gavin, sit.” I sat. She shuffled a file folder, then looked up with a practiced grimace. “Gavin, you’ve been with the branch for almost a month.” “Yes.” “How are you finding it?” “It’s fine.” She smiled, a tight, corporate expression. “Gavin, I’ll be direct. The company isn’t satisfied with your performance.” “Specifically?” “Across the board.” She gestured vaguely. “You don’t integrate with the team. You’re passive. Your output is low…” I cut her off. “The Q4 Market Analysis that Director Hanes posted on LinkedIn? I wrote that.” She paused, blinking rapidly. “That… I believe that was a Cavallari Team effort.” “The byline said Cavallari Team. The author was me.” She frowned. “Do you have proof?” I laughed. It was a dry, humorless sound. “Pamela, I’m here to listen to you, not argue. Please, continue.” She looked unsettled but quickly recovered her script. “Regardless, the consensus is that it would be best if you initiated your resignation. We can offer you a severance package—two weeks’ pay—to help with the transition.” “And if I don’t?” “If you don’t?” She pushed her glasses up her nose. “Then it gets messy. You know how these things go. Performance improvement plans, documentation…” She didn’t finish the sentence, but the threat was loud and clear. Leave, or we will make your life hell until you break. I stood up. “Okay. I understand.” “Think it over. Let me know by tomorrow.” “I don’t need to think it over.” “Excuse me?”

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At the high school reunion, I scrolled past a post from the girl who used to make my life a living hell. [Ran into the girl I hated most in high school tonight. Seeing how pathetic her life turned out? Honestly, it’s better than sex.] The comment section was a sea of “LOLs” and “Karma is a queen.” I stared at the screen for a moment, then quietly typed out a reply: “By ‘hated,’ do you mean the way you turned the entire class against her? Or how you knew she and her best friend were in love, but you used the ‘just one of the guys’ act to wedge yourself between them until she was forced to move across the ocean just to breathe?” The second I hit send, the comment vanished. Deleted. I looked up to see Becca’s smirking face. “Joanna! God, you look so… modest,” she said, her voice dripping with that fake-sweet honey. “Is life in London that hard? I mean, look at you. No jewelry, no designer tags.” She leaned in, making sure the people at the nearby tables could hear. “Are you even married? Do you have a boyfriend? Or are you still just drifting, waiting in breadlines or something? If you can’t hack it over there, just come home. We won’t laugh at you. Or is the reason you stayed away for ten years because you’re still holding a grudge against me?” The room went dead silent. A dozen pairs of eyes—eyes that had watched me crumble a decade ago—were suddenly fixed on me, filled with the same old mix of malice and pity. But I wasn’t that trembling girl anymore. I didn’t flush, and I didn’t cry. I didn’t bother telling them that I owned the car I arrived in, the house I grew up in, and, incidentally, the very hotel they were holding this reunion in. I just looked Becca in the eye and asked one thing: “And what about you, Becca? It’s been ten years. Are you and Steve finally together, or are you still just ‘one of the bros’?” 1 The temperature in the room plummeted. Steve, my childhood best friend whom I hadn’t seen in a decade, finally stepped out of the shadows. He looked older, tired, but he still had that same defensive edge. “Jo, don’t start,” he said, his voice tight. “Becca and I are just friends. We’ve always been just friends. I know you’re still stuck in the past, but it’s been forever. I wanted to get everyone together so we could finally clear the air. Let’s just move past this, okay?” Becca seized the moment, raising her glass with a practiced, casual air—the same “tomboy” act she’d perfected in eleventh grade. “Come on, Jo. We were kids. If I did anything to offend your delicate sensibilities back then, let it go. I’ve always been blunt; I don’t do the whole ‘passive-aggressive girl’ drama.” The table erupted in supportive murmurs. “Exactly. Don’t be so sensitive, Jo. Becca’s always been one of us.” “Seriously, who keeps a grudge for ten years? It’s a bit pathetic.” “Becca was the one who insisted on inviting you. Don’t be ungrateful.” They framed her “invitation”—which was really just a summons to be mocked—as an act of charity. They expected me to clink glasses and play along, as if my silence was a debt I owed them. But I’ve never been good at doing what’s expected. I didn’t touch my drink. I just said quietly, “I can’t. I’m pregnant.” Clatter. Steve’s glass hit the floor, shattering against the hardwood. The table went still. Only Becca couldn’t hide the flash of genuine triumph in her eyes. Steve forced a jagged, painful smile. “If you don’t want to drink, just say so. You don’t have to make up a lie like that.” “I’m not lying,” I said calmly. “I’m married. I’m pregnant. I’m only back in the States to help my husband settle some business acquisitions.” Becca’s voice was practically singing now. “Oh my god! When did this happen? Why didn’t you tell us? Congratulations, Jo!” It was the most honest thing she’d said all night. She was thrilled because, in her mind, the threat was gone. She wouldn’t have to pretend to be Steve’s “bro” anymore to keep him from me. Steve sounded like he’d swallowed glass. “Married… but you always said… you said you’d be my bride one day, Jo. You’re kidding, right?” One of the guys at the table scoffed. “Jesus, Jo. Why are you doing this? Steve’s been waiting for you for years. Everyone knows he never moved on.” He leaned forward, his tone patronizing. “Look, if you came here to make him jealous, it worked. But don’t ruin your life over a tantrum. A woman needs to know when to stop playing games if she wants a happy ending. Don’t blow it with a guy like Steve. You won’t find another one.” I remembered these people. I remembered how their words felt like sandpaper on raw skin. Now, they just felt like static. I smiled, a cold, empty thing. “I really am married. And as for those things I said when we were kids? It was just a joke, Steve.” I looked him right in the eye, handing him back the exact words he’d used to destroy me ten years ago. “You’re not going to be a baby about a little joke, are you?” 2 Steve and I were the “it” version of childhood sweethearts. We were inseparable from kindergarten through the start of high school. Our lives were a single thread. Until Becca moved to town. She was loud, athletic, and claimed she “only got along with guys because girls were too much drama.” She worked her way into the center of the boys’ circle, and that included Steve. Suddenly, they were sitting together in every class. They were gaming together until 2 AM. Our walk home, which used to be our sacred time, turned into a trio. At first, I tried to be the “cool friend.” I didn’t want to be the jealous girl. That changed the day Becca “accidentally” knocked my ceramic water bottle off my desk. It shattered into a million pieces. It was part of a matching set Steve and I had bought together. Becca gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. “Oh my god, Jo! I’m so sorry! I’ll buy you a new one, I swear. Don’t be mad!” I shook my head, trying to keep my voice steady. “It’s fine. It was an accident. Don’t worry about it.” Becca leaned down, her voice dropping to a whisper that only I could hear. “I’ll get you a new one. I know how you girls are—saying it’s fine to my face then crying to Steve about how mean I am behind my back.” I froze. “What?” She stood up and shouted to the room, “See? Look at that face! She’s totally mad. Jo, it’s just a bottle. Just tell me to buy you a new one instead of doing the whole two-faced thing. I seriously can’t stand girls who won’t just be real.” She nudged Steve with her elbow. “Hey, Steve, tell your princess to cheer up before she goes home and tells on me.” Steve looked uncomfortable, but he shrugged. “Come on, Jo. Don’t be like that. It’s just a bottle. I’ll buy you another one. It wasn’t even expensive.” “Steve,” I said, my heart sinking. “Do you really think I’m being petty right now?” I felt the blood rush to my face. “I’ll buy my own bottle. I don’t need anything from either of you.” Steve started to apologize, seeing the look on my face, but Becca threw her arm around his neck, pulling him away. “Whoops! The Princess is officially in a mood! Run for it, Steve, before she turns us into frogs. We’ll apologize when she’s finished her tantrum.” And just like that, I had a new nickname: Her Highness. If I handed out papers for a teacher, they’d whisper, “Watch out, don’t let Her Highness break a nail.” If I went to the bathroom, they’d line up in the hallway, snickering. “Make way! The Royal Procession is passing through!” The hallway became a gauntlet of muffled laughs and sidelong glances. Steve saw it all. He did nothing. Later, when I tried to talk to him, he just sighed with annoyance. “Jo, stop acting like a princess. You don’t have the crown for it, but you sure have the attitude.” 3 The cold war began then. Steve and I stopped talking, and Becca took that as a green light to escalate. If I wore a cute keychain on my bag, she’d point it out in the middle of the cafeteria. “Oh wow, Jo! Is that a Sailor Moon charm? Do you actually think you’re a magical girl, or are you just that desperate for attention?” The boys at the table would howl with laughter. If I wiped down my desk before lunch, she’d roll her eyes. “God, you’re such a try-hard. Do you think the rest of us are beneath you? If we’re too dirty for you, go get a private tutor and stay home. Why are you even here?” The other girls, sensing the social shift, started looking at me with sharpened eyes. During our weekly seat change, I was struggling to move a heavy stack of textbooks. Becca leaned her elbow on the books I hadn’t picked up yet and put on a high-pitched, mocking voice. “Oh heavens! I’m simply exhausted! Is there a loyal servant in the room willing to carry Her Highness’s heavy burdens?” The classroom exploded in laughter. It was a sharp, jagged sound that felt like it was drilling into my skull. Some people actually started mimicking my walk. Steve didn’t look back. He just muttered, “That’s enough, Becca.” Becca rolled her eyes. “Oh, look. Someone’s getting soft again.” Steve snapped. “I’m not soft! I’m not worried about her. She’s just a brat.” Becca grinned, satisfied. “Exactly. We’re just trying to toughen her up, Steve. She’s too sensitive. If she can’t handle us, how is she going to handle the real world?” Steve hesitated. “I mean, it’s okay for girls to be a little soft, isn’t it?” Becca punched his arm. “Who are you calling soft? I’m a girl, and I’m not like that!” Steve looked at her, and I saw the way he smiled—with total, easy trust. It felt like a physical blow to my chest. I thought if I just ignored them, the bullying would stop. But a month into our silence, Steve broke. He came to me, looking like a kicked puppy. “Jo, please. Don’t be mad anymore. Talk to me.” His eyes were soft, pleading. And because I was young and stupid, my heart melted. We had been together since we were toddlers. We were supposed to go to college together. I couldn’t just leave him behind. So, we “made up.” At least on the surface. I went back to sitting in the bleachers during his games, holding his jacket. We walked home under the streetlights again. But Becca was always there in the background, watching us with that knowing smirk. Whenever she caught my eye, she’d burst into laughter with the guys around her. It made me feel naked. Like I was a joke everyone was in on except for me. I tried to tell Steve how I felt. He just frowned. “You’re overthinking it, Jo. They’re just messing around.” When he saw the look on my face, he softened his voice. “Fine, fine. I’ll tell them to knock it off when you’re around.” He walked over to Becca and whispered something. She scoffed, her voice ringing out for everyone to hear. “Oh, god! We can’t even laugh now? Does she think she’s a Disney princess? Does she think the world stops because she’s in the room?” “Becca!” Steve barked. She just rolled her eyes at me. In those years, Becca’s voice and the malice hidden in her “jokes” were like invisible hands slapping my face daily. The whispers in the back of the classroom were like insects crawling over my skin. But back then, I was too weak. I kept telling myself: Just three years. Three years and then we all go our separate ways. Just endure it. I didn’t realize that in the middle of that endurance, Steve would choose to break my heart completely. 4 He invited me to the community pool. Since we grew up together, swimming was a normal weekend activity. I didn’t suspect a thing. Until a group of girls from our class suddenly became very interested in my plans. They gathered around my locker, asking what I was going to wear. I told them I was just going to wear my regular one-piece and then go to the library. They looked horrified. “You’re going out with the hottest guy in school and you’re wearing a grandma suit? Jo, live a little!” Was it boring? Maybe. But Steve and I had always been the “good kids.” We studied, we hung out, we were stable. But as I watched Steve and Becca wrestling and laughing in the halls, a dark thought took root: Is he pulling away because I’m too boring? So, the next day, following the “advice” of the girls in my class, I wore a bright magenta bikini. I’ve always been pale, but I’d hit my growth spurt early. I had curves I usually tried to hide under baggy sweaters. When I showed up, the look on Steve’s face was pure shock. He looked away, scratching his neck, but I could feel his eyes tracking me as I walked to the lounge chair. A secret thrill raced through me. This is what it feels like to be liked, I thought. When we sat down in the break area, he started acting fidgety. “Jo,” he said, his voice dropping. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you for a long time.” My heart started thumping against my ribs so hard I could hear it in my ears. “Will you be my girlfriend? For real?” The blood rushed to my face. I waited a beat, then whispered, “If it’s you, Steve… then yes.” Because when we were six, he’d held my hand and told me I was the prettiest girl in the world. When I was bullied in elementary school, he’d fought the boys twice his size to protect me. Jo is my sister, he’d yelled. If you mess with her, you mess with me! Ten years of history. How could one girl like Becca change that? Steve asked me again, as if he hadn’t heard me. I gathered my courage and said loudly, “Yes! I like you too, Steve!” “HA HA HA HA!” A roar of laughter erupted from behind the chairs and the pool house doors. Half the class spilled out, phones in hand, faces twisted with mockery. Becca was at the front. “Oh man, Steve! You actually did it! You got the Princess to confess!” I looked at Steve. He looked at the ground. He wouldn’t meet my eyes. Becca walked up to me, her eyes raking over my body with disgusting theatricality. “Oh my god, Jo. Did you really think wearing that slutty suit would make him love you? You look like a mid-life crisis in a Barbie box.” The girls who had “recommended” the suit were there, too. They looked away, snickering behind their hands. Becca suddenly reached out and flicked the fabric of my bikini top. “Whoa! I knew it! They’re padded! You’re literally faking it to get a guy. How pathetic are you?” “I’m not!” I screamed, clutching my chest. The crowd roared. “Is she lying, Becca? Let’s see!” Becca laughed. “I saw it with my own eyes. You want a closer look, boys?” The guys started whistling, their eyes wandering over me in a way that made me feel like I was covered in slime. I looked at Steve, my voice trembling. “What is this? What are they talking about?”

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1 “Don’t worry about me. Just focus on preparing for my wedding with Chloe. As for Mia… I have plenty of ways to get back at her.” “You know, falling in love with your own stepbrother, sneaking into his bed every night to seduce him… when that shameless scandal is exposed at the wedding, do you think she’ll ever have the face to show herself in the Sterling household again? I honestly can’t wait.” The friend sitting across from him looked uncomfortable and offered a sincere warning: “Your parents had been divorced for three years before Mia’s mom even entered the picture. You can’t honestly blame Mia for that, can you? She was just starting college; she had no idea what the situation was with your family. Isn’t doing this to her a little too cruel?” “A girl’s reputation is everything. You’re basically trying to kill her! She loves you so much; if she finds out you only got with her for revenge, I’m afraid she might…” Arthur Sterling pursed his lips impatiently, pulled out his phone, and casually sent me a reaction sticker. “Her life is exactly what I want!” “Don’t talk to me about her being innocent. Was my mother innocent when she was abandoned?” “Coming from that woman’s womb is her own bad luck. She chose to degrade herself!” “If she was really so pure and innocent, she wouldn’t have agreed to sleep with me six years ago. Ending up like this is her own choice. She deserves it.” His friend let out a long sigh, asking one final question: “You can say that, but after six years together, I refuse to believe you haven’t felt anything for her.” “Arthur, I’m warning you as a friend. Once you do this, there is absolutely no turning back.” Arthur’s face instantly turned freezing cold, and he shot his friend a vicious glare. “Fall in love with the daughter of my enemy? What kind of person do you take me for?” “Looking at that face of hers, which looks exactly like her mother’s, makes me physically sick every time I kiss her!” “She was raised by a homewrecker; of course she’s a shameless little slut! Ruining her reputation is already showing her mercy!” Seeing that Arthur refused to listen, his friend sighed helplessly and left the office. Footsteps approached the door. I scrambled frantically to hide, but the bouquet of blue roses in my hands slipped and scattered all over the floor. His friend walked out and ran straight into me. His eyes filled with profound pity. Hearing the noise, Arthur walked out of the office. He saw me scrambling pathetically on the floor, trying to gather the scattered flowers. A flash of raw panic crossed his face, and he immediately rushed over to help me up. “Mia? Why are you here? When did you arrive?” I smiled, but tears fell from my eyes entirely against my will. “I just got here. I wanted to surprise you, but I’m so clumsy I couldn’t even hold the flowers.” He smiled indulgently, tossing the flowers aside carelessly. He pulled me into his office. The moment the door closed. He pinned me against the door. His burning body heat radiated through his clothes, pressing into me. But my entire body felt completely frozen. “I told you, you don’t need to get me gifts. Just having Mia here is the best gift I could ever ask for.” “You must be tired from the trip, right? Rest here for a bit. Once I’m done working, I’ll take you home.” After saying that, he pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead. His actions were as tender and affectionate as always. But I could no longer feel his warmth. I never knew a person could commit so completely to an act just for revenge. When my mother first married into the Sterling family… At the wedding, I was crushed by the horrific insults of being a “homewrecker’s daughter,” unable to even lift my head. I hid in a dark corner and cried hysterically. It was Arthur’s appearance that offered me my only salvation. He silenced the vicious rumors for me. He promised he would protect me for the rest of my life and be my safe harbor. I believed every word he said. I drowned in the gentle warmth he offered, completely unable to pull myself out. I had no idea that everything was a meticulously calculated act of revenge. The so-called “love” was nothing but an illusion. He was the one actively pushing me into the abyss. While Arthur was busy working, I sent a text to my mother. “Mom, I want to study abroad.” “Please don’t tell anyone in the family yet.” On the drive back, he casually brought it up, acting like it was no big deal: “My dad is pressuring me to get married, so I found a friend to act as my fiancé.” “Don’t worry, you are the only person I will ever love. She agreed to help me keep up the facade, so I’ll still be living at home with you.” I stared at the scenery passing by outside the window and nodded silently. Tears fell soundlessly down my cheeks. The moment we got home, while he was in the shower, I unlocked his phone. 2 The pinned contact at the very top was named “Chloe.” I opened the chat. Below the cute, flirty reaction stickers… Were dozens of dense video files. Security camera footage from inside my own bedroom. The messages underneath them were even more devastating. “I told you, I only want revenge against her. I’m going to play these videos at the wedding. After that day, Mia will be permanently erased from the Sterling family. The only person standing by my side will be you.” “Before you officially marry into the family, I’m going to clear every single obstacle out of your way. From now on, you will only know happiness.” “Chloe, I love you.” I looked up at the stuffed animal he gave me six years ago. In the dim light of the room… A tiny, eerie red light blinked inside the toy’s eye. It turned out he had been planning how to eradicate me from the very beginning. It’s hilarious that I was so thoroughly immersed in his fabricated lies. Believing I was actually happy. I opened Arthur’s hidden photo album. It was completely filled with photos of him and Chloe. Dating all the way back to their college years. The photos meticulously documented their entire love story. Every major holiday, when he claimed he was swamped with work… He was actually with Chloe. Every single gift he ever bought me… He bought an identical one for Chloe. The only difference was, Chloe got things that I never did. The second chat thread I opened was with a wedding planning company. Arthur had been meticulously preparing for this wedding for six months. From selecting the venue to choosing the exact style of silverware for the reception. He handled every single detail personally. Even the security camera footage… he edited it himself. All for the sole purpose of utterly destroying our forbidden relationship in front of everyone at the wedding. A second before Arthur walked out of the bathroom… I locked his phone. And I bought myself a plane ticket to leave the country in three days. At the dinner table, Arthur’s father constantly brought up his upcoming wedding. Arthur pretended to be incredibly annoyed by it. But casually agreed to everything. Setting the wedding date for three days from now. The chopsticks in my hand clattered to the floor. The entire meal tasted like ash in my mouth. After dinner, my mother pulled me into my room, looking deeply concerned. “Why the sudden decision to go abroad? Didn’t you insist on joining the company to work with your brother? Did you tell him about this yet?” Looking at the gray streaks in my mother’s hair, my nose stung painfully. “No. I need you to keep this a secret from him.” “Mom, after I leave, just focus on living a good life with Uncle Sterling. Ignore what anyone else says.” I know how incredibly difficult it was for my mother to finally decide to remarry. Regardless of what Arthur believed, my mother had never, ever been the other woman in anyone’s relationship. Having her reputation completely destroyed shouldn’t be how her story ends. When I returned to my bedroom, Arthur was already waiting in my bed. Seeing me walk in, he immediately pulled me into his arms. His lips brushed affectionately against my ear. “Are you mad? You know we can’t go public with our relationship. I’m handling the wedding arrangements; it’s just a cover, an act. Don’t overthink it.” “Mia, I promise, you are the only one in my heart. Stop throwing a tantrum, okay? I bought you a present; it’ll be delivered tomorrow. You’re going to love it.” I swallowed my suffocating grief and smiled, nodding. He didn’t suspect a thing. He let out a sigh of relief and pulled me tighter against his chest. After a long pause, he said hesitantly: “It’s just that… this is a Sterling family wedding, so it has to be a major event. Since you’re my sister, you probably…” “Okay. I’ll be there.” I knew exactly what he was trying to say. Rather than waiting for him to force the issue, I might as well offer it myself. At least I could maintain some shred of dignity. He was shocked by my sudden change in attitude. But since he got what he wanted, he didn’t bother analyzing it. That night, he slept in my bed as usual. The next morning, before anyone else in the house was awake, I slipped out of my room. The second Arthur left the house, I walked out right behind him. I went to process my visa and finalize my university applications. I never expected to run into Chloe there. 3 Arthur was standing right behind her, his eyes overflowing with absolute adoration. The employees nearby were constantly whispering about them: “Is that CEO Sterling’s fiancée? Her aura is incredible! If I’m not mistaken, that bag she’s holding is a limited edition Hermes. You can’t even buy that just with money!” “It has to be her. I heard they started dating in college and have been together ever since. He even bought a private island abroad for their honeymoon! They’re probably here getting visas for a trip around the world, right?” “This is literally a romance novel come to life. I’m so jealous. If my boyfriend was even half as amazing as CEO Sterling, my life would be complete…” In my daze, the clerk processing my paperwork called out: “Ms. Sterling? Ms. Sterling? Your paperwork is finished.” His voice instantly drew Arthur’s attention. As I was shoving the documents into my bag, Arthur appeared right in front of me. His expression carried a microscopic, almost imperceptible trace of panic. “Mia? What are you doing here?” Chloe walked up from behind him, affectionately wrapping her arm around his. “You must be Arthur’s sister! Hi there.” “Since we’re going to be family soon, we should get to know each other.” My eyes swept over where their arms were linked. I smiled and nodded. “Sister-in-law.” “It’s nothing. I just came to help Mom sort out her visa. She’s been wanting to travel abroad for a while.” “I’ll leave you two to it. Have a good day.” I turned to walk away. But Arthur chased after me, grabbing my arm tightly. He frantically tried to explain: “Don’t overthink this. We’re only here today because my dad insisted. You know how seriously he takes this wedding; he practically forced me to take her traveling.” “He also wants Chloe to come over for dinner tonight. I’m just giving you a heads-up so you don’t misunderstand.” Watching him act so desperately anxious about my feelings… I suddenly found the entire situation hilarious. Chloe was his actual girlfriend of several years. The wedding was three days away, and his grand revenge plot was about to reach its climax. Who exactly was he putting this act on for? “Don’t worry, I know my place. Since it’s Uncle Sterling’s arrangement, just do as he asks. I wouldn’t cause a scene over something like that.” “You two go ahead. I’ll wait for you at home.” He let out a massive sigh of relief and personally hailed a cab to send me home. Then he turned around and took Chloe straight to a bridal boutique. 4 My mother and Uncle Sterling knew Chloe was coming over for dinner. They started preparing the meal right around noon. The moment Arthur and Chloe walked through the door… They handed her a red envelope containing ten thousand dollars. I used feeling unwell as an excuse to hide in my room. But Arthur walked in carrying a gift box. As he slipped the bracelet onto my wrist, he pulled a warm blue rose from his jacket pocket. He dropped to one knee on the floor. His eyes were filled with absolute devotion. “I know that being with me in secret, without a real title, is incredibly unfair to you. But after the wedding, I’ll still be your brother. I’ll still live here and spend time with you, exactly like I always have.” “Mia, please don’t be mad at me, okay?” I looked down at the Hermes logo on the bracelet. It was the complimentary gift that came with the bag Chloe was carrying. “Okay. I won’t be mad at you.” “Go eat dinner. They’ve been preparing it all day.” The sounds of joyous congratulations drifted up from downstairs. My mother stood awkwardly by the dining table, looking exactly like a hired maid. Arthur naturally and casually ordered her around, demanding she serve the food and dish out the soup. The suffocating weight of my grievances finally exploded. I gathered every single gift he had given me over the past six years and threw them all into the trash can. As the trash can tipped over, Chloe suddenly appeared in my doorway. Looking at the mess on the floor, a triumphant, arrogant smirk spread across her face. “What, you can’t handle it anymore?” “Mia, you are even more pathetic than I thought.” “Makes sense. What kind of decent person could a homewrecker possibly raise? Watching your own mother scurry around like a maid, not even allowed to sit at the table… that must hurt, right?” I stared at her with freezing apathy. “What exactly are you trying to say?” Chloe smirked, her face dripping with vicious mockery. She pulled out her phone, opened her chat log with Arthur, and waved it directly in my face. “Oh, right, you don’t know, do you? Every single night when you’re being intimate with Arthur, he sends the videos straight to me so I can watch.” “If I sent these videos to your mother’s phone, do you think she’d lose her mind entirely?” “Her own biological daughter and her second husband’s son, secretly screwing each other every single night right under their noses…” “Don’t you dare!” Unable to suppress the explosive rage in my chest a second longer… I raised my hand and delivered a brutal slap across her face. The sharp crack echoed loudly. Chloe fell hard onto the floor, shattering a glass picture frame. Blood instantly began pooling from her palm. Arthur charged into the room and immediately pulled her into his arms. He glared at me with pure, unadulterated fury. “Mia! What the hell are you doing?! Are you insane?!” “Chloe came up here to nicely ask you to come down for dinner, and you attack her?!” Uncle Sterling stood in the doorway, his face instantly turning dark. My mother panicked, desperately trying to explain: “Mia definitely didn’t mean to! There must be some misunderstanding!” “Mia, apologize to Chloe right now!” Chloe’s eyes were red as she buried her face in Arthur’s chest. “I’m so sorry. I just came up to invite Mia to our wedding. I have no idea why she suddenly attacked me…” “Arthur, please don’t blame Mia. I’m sure she didn’t mean it.” A cold sneer curled my lips as I stared directly at the embracing couple. Arthur ignored my expression, his eyes radiating a freezing, venomous hatred. “Mia. Apologize!” My nails dug so deeply into my palms that droplets of blood fell to the floor. “I didn’t do anything wrong. Why should I apologize?!” “You two are the ones who owe me an apology!” A look of profound disappointment flashed across Arthur’s eyes. “Mia, when did you become like this? You are being completely unreasonable!” Before I could respond, Uncle Sterling stepped forward and pulled Arthur up. “Take Chloe to the hospital first. I will handle things here.” Arthur carried Chloe out of the house. My mother followed behind Uncle Sterling, apologizing profusely and pathetically. Six years of deep, profound love evaporated into nothingness in that exact moment. I grabbed my suitcase and went to a hotel. Before leaving, I ripped the hidden camera out of the stuffed animal. And mailed it to Arthur. Doing the math, it would arrive on the exact day of his wedding. I thought my departure would officially end this twisted play. But that night, Arthur sent me a text explaining everything: “Chloe agreed to act as my bride for the wedding. I already owe her a massive favor, and you physically hurt her. It looked terrible in front of everyone. I only made you apologize so my dad wouldn’t get suspicious. Please don’t overthink it.” “Get some rest. I had a custom dress made for you to wear to the wedding. Be a good girl. I am your brother, and that will never, ever change.” But I knew perfectly well that this performance wasn’t for Uncle Sterling. It was entirely for me. My departure was the only thing that could finally end it. For the next two days, I didn’t go home. He didn’t go home either. He was busy organizing the wedding venue. He was busy picking out expensive jewelry for Chloe. I never received the gift he promised me. The only news I received was that he had casually dropped millions on a luxury yacht for Chloe. All so he could take her to the private island named after them. On the morning of the wedding, I called him. He was busy giving instructions to his friends and didn’t really have time for me. “Are the videos ready? Remember, start playing them the exact second she walks into the venue. I want absolutely everyone to see them.” “Are you sure about this? Once that video plays, there is absolutely no turning back.” “Just do exactly what I said. I have been waiting for this day for six years.” “Keep an eye on her mother. Make sure she doesn’t try to cause a scene.” His friend walked away, and Arthur finally remembered he was on the phone. “Mia? The wedding is about to start. I’ll come pick you up myself in a little bit. Wait for me at home.” “I’ll let you in on a secret: usually, the groom only picks up the bride. It’s almost like I’m marrying you, isn’t it?” “Stop being unhappy.” I stared at the boarding pass in my hand and let out a cynical laugh. “Brother. Happy Wedding Day.” He froze for a second, then chuckled softly. “Why are you calling me ‘brother’ today? I prefer it when you call me by my name.” “Be a good girl and wait for me. I’ll be right there.” I hung up the phone, turned around, and boarded my flight. And permanently deleted every single piece of his contact information. The wedding began. Arthur’s mind kept replaying that phone call, a profound sense of unease settling in his chest. Right as he was preparing to leave to pick me up… His friend rushed in from outside, carrying the shattered camera lens. “We have a massive problem. Mia found out about the hidden cameras!” “She took a flight out of the country early this morning. But that specific flight… the news just broke that it crashed into the ocean!”

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Ethan is five years older than me, but I never called him “brother.” I watched him go through girlfriend after girlfriend. With every single one, I’d politely call them “sister-in-law.” On my twenty-second birthday, I waited all day. Ethan never showed up. I made a wish: to never, ever like him again. After my birthday ended, I went downstairs to throw out the trash and saw a familiar silhouette. It was Ethan’s best friend, Liam. “Liam? What are you doing here?” “Ethan couldn’t get away. He asked me to drop off his present for you.” “Oh. Thanks. Where’s yours?” He smiled. “I brought two. I’ll decide which one to give you after you answer my question.” “Autumn, liking him must be exhausting, right? How about you try someone else? Be my girlfriend.” 1 I stared at Liam in shock. When did he find out I liked Ethan? I thought I had hidden it perfectly. I never showed a hint of jealousy in front of Ethan. “Liam, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He pressed his lips together. He was smiling, but there was a visible tension in his eyes. “Let me rephrase that, then.” “Autumn Miller, I like you.” “I wanted to ask… would you give me a chance? Will you go out with me?” But he was Ethan’s best friend. When I first met Ethan at five years old, Liam was standing right next to him. Thinking about it, I had known Liam for seventeen years, too. I stared at his face, suddenly remembering the wish I had made tonight. Liam chuckled under my intense gaze. “Why are you looking at me like that?” “Do you think I’m causing trouble for you?” I shook my head. It wasn’t trouble, just… surprising. Liam was different from Ethan. In all the time I’d known him, I don’t think I’d ever seen him date anyone. For a brief, confusing period, I had even considered him a romantic rival for Ethan’s attention. Meanwhile, Ethan always had a woman by his side. Thinking of that felt like a needle pricking my heart. After the sharp sting faded, I looked up at him and said: “It just so happens I wished for a boyfriend tonight, and here you are, delivering yourself to my doorstep.” “Liam, you must have been sent by fate.” “So, I’ll go along with the universe. Yes, let’s date!” Liam froze. He clearly hadn’t expected me to actually say yes. He studied me for a moment, then a slow smile broke across his face. He turned and pulled a beautifully wrapped gift box from his car, handing it to me. “This one is for my girlfriend.” 2 I opened it right in front of him. It was a delicate necklace studded with crushed diamonds. It looked incredibly expensive. “Isn’t this a bit too much?” I knew his family was wealthy, but his past birthday gifts had always been on par with Ethan’s. And I always got him something similar for his birthday. Liam stepped closer and gently ruffled my hair. “For you? It’s not expensive.” As he leaned in, a faint scent of cologne drifted into my nose. It was different from Ethan’s. His was cooler, crisper—like bitter lemon packed with ice. I took a subtle step back, creating some distance. Just as I was trying to figure out how to politely decline the gift, Liam’s phone rang. “Liam, did you drop off the gift?” The night was quiet, so Ethan’s voice carried clearly from the receiver. Along with the unmistakable sound of a girl laughing in the background. “Yeah, delivered.” Liam kept his eyes fixed on me as he spoke. I suddenly felt incredibly awkward. I looked away, but my ears were still glued to the conversation. “Good. I tried calling Autumn earlier but she didn’t pick up. Thought she might be mad at me.” Liam let out a low chuckle. “She’s not. She went downstairs to take out the trash and forgot her phone.” “Makes sense. She’s too soft; she never gets mad at me.” “Wait a minute. How do you know she doesn’t have her phone? Is she right there with you? Put her on.” I snapped my head back, terrified Liam would hand me the phone. I had just agreed to be his girlfriend. Talking to Ethan right now… the thought alone made me cringe. To my surprise, Liam turned slightly away, lowering his voice. “It’s not a good time for her. Just tell me what you want to say, I’ll pass it on.” “Just tell her happy birthday, and that she needs to find a boyfriend this year. Every time I take her out to eat, I have to waste breath explaining she’s not my girlfriend so people don’t get the wrong idea.” Ethan’s teasing, flippant tone laid my humiliation bare. I curled my hands into tight fists, my nails digging into my palms. Liam lowered his voice even further and gave a soft, dry laugh. “You won’t have to worry about that anymore.” Ethan paused for two seconds, his tone turning cold. “What do you mean? Is she seeing someone?” Liam stepped forward, using his free hand to grab mine. I froze, instinctively trying to pull away, but he intertwined his fingers tightly with mine. Liam looked down, locking eyes with me, and said into the phone: “Yeah. She’s with me now. She’s my girlfriend. If there’s nothing else, I’m hanging up.” 3 He hung up, but Liam didn’t let go of my hand. “Do you have any plans tomorrow?” I stared at the pavement and mumbled, “No.” “Then I’ll pick you up tomorrow and we’ll go out. It’s getting cold, you should head back up.” I nodded. The second he released my hand, I practically sprinted toward my building. Liam called out from behind me: “Autumn, you aren’t going to back out, right?” I stopped but didn’t dare turn around. “I won’t.” “Good. Because if you do, I’m going to become a very persistent stalker.” My face burned. I walked into the elevator without looking back. Once inside my apartment, I saw several missed calls from Ethan. And a barrage of text messages. [Happy birthday, Autumn.] [I got tied up with work. Liam was passing by your area on a business trip, so I asked him to drop off your gift.] [Are you and him together?] [Since when?!] [Why didn’t you tell me?] [I never even see you two talk. How are you suddenly dating?] [Did he pressure you and you were too scared to say no? Don’t worry, I’ll talk to him for you.] I stared at the messages. My chest felt tight. I couldn’t pinpoint exactly what I was feeling. The thrill of petty revenge? Guilt toward Liam? Or was it lingering resentment and grievance? After deliberating for a long time, I just replied with a simple “Yeah.” Ethan immediately tried to call me. I didn’t want to talk to him. I hit decline. Another text popped up. [Autumn, have you really thought this through?] I have. I’ve thought through the fact that I don’t want to like you anymore. Another message arrived. [Do you even like him?] I didn’t know. The Liam I knew always maintained a polite, distant aura at our gatherings. But with his striking face and cool demeanor, he constantly attracted attention. Tonight, he was the one who confessed to me. Alongside the surprise, I felt a little panicked. Now that I was calm, I realized agreeing to date him had been impulsive. But Liam might not be a bad choice. When I didn’t reply, Ethan called again. I accidentally answered it. “Autumn, are you really with Liam?” Ethan’s voice was laced with panic. So he can panic too? I gave a low “Mhm.” I heard him curse in frustration. “He forced you, didn’t he? That bastard knows you’re basically my sister, and he still made a move!” “Autumn, you don’t need to be afraid of him. I’ll go talk to him—” I cut him off. “I’m not afraid of him. He said he liked me, so I said yes.” And you have never once said you liked me. So, why are you so angry? Ethan’s tirade stopped abruptly. Followed by the sound of something shattering. Then, a woman’s startled scream in the background, asking him what was wrong. Suddenly, all the complicated emotions swirling inside me just… vanished. Ethan could belong to any woman. But he would never belong to me. I should have seen that clearly a long time ago. I looked down at the necklace Liam had given me. I spoke softly into the phone: “Ethan, I thought you would be happy for me.” I used to call him by his full name, Ethan. And he would scold me for being disrespectful. He complained about why I called Liam “Liam” but just called him “Ethan.” But now that I was finally addressing him properly, he was still unhappy. There was rustling on the other end, and Ethan’s voice was strained. “Autumn, wait for me. I’m driving back right now. We’ll talk face to face.” Right as the call ended, a text from Liam arrived. [Autumn, if Ethan comes looking for you, don’t go soft on him, okay?] [Do me a favor. Just date me for a week, at least.] I imagined the expression on Liam’s face as he typed that. Probably a mix of helpless exasperation and a faint, indulgent fondness. I couldn’t help but smile. I typed back a single word: [Okay.] 4 The next morning, around nine, Liam called to ask if I was awake. I was still half-asleep. “What’s up, Liam?” I heard a soft chuckle through the speaker. “You slept and forgot everything already?” The memory of agreeing to our date hit me like a ton of bricks. I shot up in bed. “Ah! I didn’t forget. I’m getting up right now!” Liam’s laugh deepened. “It’s okay, no rush. Just let me know when you’re ready.” After hanging up, my heart was racing. I covered my face, groaning in regret. Every other time I had seen Liam, Ethan had been there. Oh right. Ethan. He said he was coming back to see me today. The more I thought about it, the more chaotic my brain felt. I didn’t know what had possessed him to react so violently to the news of me dating Liam. It wasn’t like he liked me. Why did he care who I was with? Especially when I clearly heard another woman’s voice next to him on the phone last night. I took a deep breath, adjusted my mindset, and muted Ethan’s notifications. I forced myself to stop thinking about him. Since I had agreed to date Liam, I needed to focus on Liam. When I finally got dressed and went downstairs, I saw Liam’s car parked out front. He was leaning casually against the door frame. Wearing a tailored cashmere coat, his posture was relaxed and elegant. His typically stoic face broke into a warm smile the second he saw me. He walked toward me. “Liam, I’m so sorry. I overslept.” He gave a noncommittal hum. “So, how are you going to make it up to me?” I definitely hadn’t expected him to say that. I froze. “Uh… I’ll buy you lunch?” He smiled and reached out to take my hand. “Sure. But I’d rather you agree to another condition.” I had no idea what condition he was going to propose. But showing up late to our very first date was incredibly rude. I braced myself and agreed. “Alright, tell me. As long as it’s something I can do.” “Change how you address me. Stop calling me like we’re just friends.” “Huh? What should I call you then?” “Liam.” (In a more intimate, affectionate tone) After he said it, he looked down at me. His face held a faint, eager anticipation. I repeated his name in my head. But when it came time to say it out loud, it felt like the word was burning my tongue. “L-Liam.” My voice was barely a whisper. But he heard it. The smile on his lips grew wider, and he responded with utmost seriousness. “Yeah. I’m here.” Putting our new “relationship” aside for a second… Liam’s smile was lethally attractive. Especially when you knew he was smiling because of you. It made me incredibly shy. My face flushed, and I quickly changed the subject. “Let’s go eat. I’m starving.” Without another word, Liam took my hand. He seemed to really like intertwining our fingers. He had held my hand the exact same way last night when I agreed to date him. I still wasn’t quite used to it. After lunch, Liam took me to an art exhibition. “Liam, aren’t you here on a business trip? If you’re busy with the company, we don’t have to do this. You can head back.” His family wanted him to take over their corporation. But he had insisted on starting his own business first, before he turned thirty. At past gatherings, he would always just drop in for a bit and leave early. Even while he was there, he was constantly replying to emails and taking calls. In my mind, he was a CEO who worked harder than a pack mule. But during lunch today, he hadn’t checked his phone once. And now he was taking me to an art gallery. To my surprise, Liam casually mentioned that he had finished all his work last night. His time today belonged entirely to me. I blushed, pretending to be unbothered. “Liam, I’m not a kid. You don’t have to babysit me.” “Oh. Well, I am a kid. And I need you to babysit me.” God, my face is on fire.

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On a hit reality dating show, I was bullied by every single contestant for rejecting the advances of a rich, spoiled brat. They isolated me. They framed me. They turned the entire internet against me. When I confronted the producers, they threatened me with “villain editing” and told me to get out of the industry. When I begged my talent agency for help, they sued me, demanding millions in liquidated damages. “Preston Sterling can have any woman he wants! Who do you think you are to say no to him? Know your place!” I was blacklisted. My reputation was trashed. Walking down the street, strangers doused me in red paint. They screamed at me: “You’re just a cheap tramp raised by trash! Your whole bloodline is garbage!” In response, I started a livestream to face every guest and every hater. Standing against a wall covered in military and civilian medals of honor, I spoke every word through tears: “My grandfather was a Purple Heart recipient! My grandmother sacrificed her life for the Apollo Space Program! My father was a fallen Special Forces hero! My mother was a frontline surgeon! I am a National Heritage Fellow! Tell me, exactly how much ‘status’ do I need to reject a brat? Is the honor of this nation enough for you?” 1 “Chloe is a master of the ‘push-and-pull.’ Don’t let that innocent look fool you; she’s a total player behind the scenes.” “Honestly, you can’t blame Preston for being fooled. Her act is top-tier.” “She played with fire and got burned. She tried to play hard-to-get to build a ‘cold beauty’ brand, but it backfired big time.” “If it weren’t for the show’s raw footage, we’d probably all be under her spell.” “Don’t even mention her name. It makes me sick.” The producers of Destined to Love were hosting a live panel with four contestants. Two men and two women sat there, chatting casually. They didn’t hold back their malice toward me. The stream had over a hundred thousand viewers. In the chat, trolls were working overtime to smear me. But everything they claimed I did, I never touched. From the start, I was the one being bullied. The haters said I wore revealing clothes to seduce the men. The truth? One of the female contestants snuck into my room and shredded my dresses. I didn’t realize it until I was on camera, suffering a massive wardrobe malfunction. The haters said I was a manipulator, stirring up drama. The truth? A female guest tried to frame me, but her plan accidentally backfired on one of the guys. I tried to show the producers the truth on the security tapes. Instead, they all banded together to call me a liar. I was the victim. The innocent one. Yet, I became the villain in the mouths of five other people. The rumors that I tried to sleep my way to the top were even more absurd. When I went to the executive’s office, I was dressed professionally. I just wanted the showrunners to act like humans and stop the bullying. But they didn’t care. They just kept editing the clips to make me look like a “homewrecker.” Left with no choice, I went to my agency. I thought they would protect me. Instead, my manager sneered: “Preston Sterling can have any woman he wants! Who do you think you are to say no? You think you’re special?” “It’s not too late. Go to Preston. Beg. Do whatever it takes to get him to forgive you.” “Maybe if he’s happy, he’ll give you a second chance. You might even get famous off this!” I recorded every word they said. And I posted it online. If no one else would stand up for me, I would do it myself. I didn’t believe a trust-fund kid like Preston could hide the truth forever. I had a clear conscience. I believed I could wash away the filth they threw at me. But the moment the audio went viral, Preston bought off the media. They told the public the recording was “AI-generated” or “staged” by me. “Using fake audio to save yourself? Do you really think Preston Sterling is obsessed with you?” “The Sterling family is worth billions. Why would they bother framing a nobody like you?” “Know your place. Get out of the industry, you parasite.” That night, #CancelChloeMiller hit #1 on trending. My apartment door was blocked with piles of trash. I was spat on in the street. I was harassed by thugs in broad daylight. Even when the police arrested one, ten more were waiting. “Look, kid,” the officer said. “We can’t prove Preston Sterling is behind this. We don’t know if these guys are hired or just random internet trolls.” I was too scared to leave my house. I cut off all social contact. Even when I ordered groceries, someone threw red paint on me the moment I opened the door. There was no food in the bags. Only filth, terrifying dolls, and printed death threats. I curled up in my dark living room, clutching a glass snow globe my parents gave me. I was shaking. I couldn’t stop crying. I didn’t understand. The world my parents fought to protect—how did it become this dark? “Mom… Dad… I’m so scared. Why are they doing this?” “I miss you. I miss you so much.” But they weren’t done with me. Just minutes ago, a group led by Preston Sterling kicked in my front door. 2 They stormed in and trashed the place. They tore my clothes and took photos of me in the wreckage. They told me if I didn’t publicly apologize to Preston, they’d drive me out of the city. Preston pressed his shoe against my face on the floor. I was trembling. His voice was a venomous whisper: “Chloe, I offered to make you a star on this show. You should’ve been grateful. Do you really think you can say no to me?” I fought back, but I was too weak against them. He took a pocketknife and lightly grazed my cheek. “Such a pretty face. It’d be a shame to ruin it. Why are you so stubborn? Wouldn’t it be easier to be a good girl?” He laughed like a demon. “I’ll give you one last chance. Go on the livestream tonight. Apologize. Admit you tried to seduce me and tell the world you love me. Maybe then I’ll let you go.” He dropped the knife and stood up. “Don’t bother calling the cops. You have no proof. No one is coming for you.” My eyes were bloodshot. My vision was blurry with tears. Beside my hand lay the shattered snow globe. My 12th birthday present. The last gift I ever got from them. I had kept it safe for ten years. Now, it was just shards of glass. He grabbed my chin. “The more you resist, the more I want to break you. See you on the stream, Chloe.” He walked out, arrogant as ever. I slowly picked up the glass shards. The glass cut my fingers, and in the blood, I felt like I saw my father. He was covered in dirt and glory, walking toward me through the fire of a distant battlefield. His gaze was steady. His stride was firm. “A soldier’s grit is harder than steel, Chloe. A hero’s child must be firmer than a rock, straighter than a pine, and braver than the flames! Don’t be afraid. I’m right here.” Behind him stood my mother, my grandfather, and my grandmother. “Be brave, Chloe.” I stopped sobbing. My mind filled with images of them on the front lines—in the desert, in the secret labs, in the trauma wards. Preston Sterling seemed terrifying. But compared to the enemies my father faced, or the radiation my grandmother braved? He was nothing but a coward with a checkbook. “Whoa, Preston’s here!” “Hey man, join the stream! We’re almost done. Still heartbroken over Chloe?” “Come on, Preston. The world is full of women. Forget her.” Preston appeared on camera. A shower of “Super Chats” and digital gifts filled the screen. The viewer count jumped from a hundred thousand to a million. Preston looked every bit the charming prince. Not a trace of the monster from an hour ago. He sighed, looking “hurt.” “Actually, Chloe called me. She said she wanted to apologize. I don’t want to believe a girl can be that cruel, so I gave her a link to join us tonight.” The other guests groaned. “Preston, you’re too kind.” “People like her don’t change. Even if she admits it, she’s still trash.” “I bet she’s too scared to show up.” The chat was a toxic mess: [If she shows up, I’m throwing my phone.] [She’s probably hiding in a hole like the rat she is.] [Her parents must be so proud of raising a slut.] [How does she even have the face to be alive?] 3 But I wasn’t the one who lacked “face.” It was the five people on that screen. I wiped my eyes. I pulled a heavy metal box from under my bed. I opened it. One by one, I took out the contents and hung them on the white wall behind me. Then, I turned on my camera and requested to join the stream. “Wait, she actually joined? Should we let her in?” “Let her in. Let everyone see the ‘Green Tea’ performance.” Preston acted concerned. “Guys, be nice. She might be going through a lot…” “We got you, Preston. We’ll let her talk.” I entered the stream. The viewer count hit two million. The screen was a blur of censored slurs and hate. “Chloe, it’s about time. We haven’t heard an apology yet!” one of the girls sneered. “Show some accountability for once, or your career is over!” I adjusted the camera. My face was a mess. Red eyes, tear tracks, and the fresh cut on my cheek. [Look at her! Still acting! What a drama queen!] [Disgusting. She thinks a few tears will make us forget she’s a liar.] I took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for wasting the public’s time on this circus.” The guests laughed. “That’s it? That’s your apology? You think that covers the ‘harm’ you did to us?” “Harm?” I asked. “I never hurt you. You hurt me. Aside from the viewers I’ve annoyed, I owe no one an apology. Especially not you five. And especially not the trolls in this chat. You all owe me an apology.” The stream erupted. “Are you kidding me?!” “She’s doubling down! Kick her out!” “Wait,” Preston said, his eyes turning cold. “Chloe, think carefully. This is your last chance to save yourself. Think of your family name. You don’t want them to be dragged through the mud with you…” I started to laugh. It was a hollow, jagged sound. Preston was so fake. He wanted me to confess my “love” just so he could own me. But he picked the wrong girl. [What is she laughing at?! She’s insane!] [Preston is being a saint and she’s mocking him!] I stopped laughing. My voice was steady. “Preston is right. I should value this opportunity. I should say what needs to be said.” I stood up. I turned the camera toward the white wall behind me. The wall was covered in medals. Gold, silver, bronze. Gleaming under the light. Ribbons of blue, red, and white. Every single one told a story of survival, courage, and blood. 4 [What are those?] [Are those… military medals? Wait, is that a Silver Star?] [Wait, look at the middle one. Is that the Medal of Honor?!] [No way. That’s impossible. She must have bought them on eBay.] “These aren’t mine,” I said. “They belong to my family.” “You said my family should be ashamed of me? I want to know, why should American heroes be ashamed?” “You called me trash raised by trash? I want to know, since when are the defenders of this country considered trash?” The guests were silent. The chat froze for a split second. Preston’s face was as dark as a thundercloud. “Chloe, what is this theater? You think medals make you innocent?” The trolls tried to rally. [Fake! Totally fake! Who has that many medals?] [She’s desperate. She’s using stolen valor!] “You can doubt it,” I said, my voice rising. “But the records are public. My grandfather served three tours. This Silver Star was for saving an entire platoon under fire. This Purple Heart was for the shrapnel he carries in his leg to this day!” I touched a faded ribbon. “My grandmother worked in a top-secret lab for NASA. She spent ten years calculating trajectories in a room full of radiation so we could reach the moon. She died of cancer caused by that work. This is her Presidential Medal of Freedom!” “My father was a Navy SEAL. He spent thirty years on the front lines, protecting borders you’ll never see. He died in a firefight to keep an embassy safe. This is his Navy Cross!” “My mother was a trauma surgeon. she died in a field hospital during a pandemic, saving people who would never know her name!” “And me? I am a National Heritage Fellow. I dedicated my life to preserving the traditional blacksmithing and weaving techniques of our ancestors. I went on that show to promote our history!” “We are a family of public servants. Every single person on this wall is a hero!” My voice was hoarse. I was shouting now. “My grandfather is a war hero! My grandmother was a pioneer! My father is a martyr! My mother was an angel! And I am a protector of our culture!” “The show asked me what ‘face’ I had to reject Preston Sterling? I ask you: Is the honor of my father and my country enough? Is it ‘big’ enough for you?!” “An hour ago, Preston Sterling broke into my home. He trashed my parents’ belongings. He put his boot on my face and told me that because he has money, he can do whatever he wants!” “Is that the world we live in? Where a checkbook is more important than a life of service?!” 5 Preston and the others looked like they had seen a ghost. The chat was a volcano. The trolls were being drowned out by millions of regular people. The “Army of Justice” had arrived. [That is a real Navy Cross. I’m a vet, I know the serial number.] [Look at her face. That’s not acting. That’s raw pain.] [If this is true, Preston Sterling is finished.] [We failed her. We let them bully a hero’s daughter.] [Chloe, we’re coming! Don’t be afraid!] Preston tried to save face. “Don’t believe her! This is a scam! She’s a liar!” “Chloe, you better shut up, or you’ll regret ever being born!” [Look! He’s threatening her on camera!] [I’ve already called the local VA. They’re calling the Sheriff!] [The Pentagon is going to have a field day with this.] The stream hit ten million viewers. The platform’s mods took control of the room, locking the host’s ability to end the stream. The comments were now 100% against the guests. [Preston Sterling, you are scum!] [Boycott Sterling Industries!] [I’m outside the studio right now. Come out and face us, cowards!] Preston lost it. He started screaming at the camera. “You losers! You’re all broke nobodies! I’ll buy your houses and tear them down! You can’t touch me!” One of the other guests tried to pull him away, but he was manic. “Where are my bots?! Why aren’t the bots working?!” He looked at the lens, his eyes wild. “Chloe! You think you won? I’m coming back to your place right now to finish the job!” As he stood up to leave, a hand reached into the frame and slapped him across the face. A hard, ringing crack. “Dad?!” Richard Sterling stood there, trembling with rage. Then he hit him again. And again. 6 “Dad! Stop! They’re watching! Help me!” Richard Sterling didn’t help. He kicked Preston to the ground. “You idiot! I told you to stay out of trouble, but you harassed a Gold Star family?! Do you have any idea what you’ve done?!” Preston was sobbing. “She’s lying, Dad! She has to be!” Richard hit him again. “The FBI is on the phone! Our stocks are crashing! Every veteran group in the country is calling for my head! You think this is a joke?!” He looked at the camera, his face pale. “Get on your knees! Apologize to Ms. Miller! Now!” Richard forced his son and the other guests to kneel in front of the cameras. “Ms. Miller, I am a failure of a father. I beg for your mercy. We will make this right. Please!” Preston was stunned. “Dad, we have the Governor on speed dial! Why are you begging this girl?!” Richard grabbed a chair and smashed it over his son’s head. Preston went limp. Richard clutched his chest, gasping for air, as the paramedics rushed in. The stream finally cut to black. [The son outed the Dad’s corruption in ten seconds. Amazing.] [Gold Star families are untouchable. The Sterlings are over.] [Justice tastes so good.] Within minutes, the internet was a storm of headlines. #SterlingEmpireFalls #ChloeMillerHero #GoldStarJustice The show’s raw footage was leaked by a whistleblower. The world saw the truth. “Chloe, you should be honored I’m looking at you. Name your price.” “I’m not interested, Preston. I’m here for my work.” The video showed him grabbing my clothes, me fighting him off, and the producers laughing as I cried. “The Sterlings pay for this show, Chloe. Go to his room tonight, or we’ll ruin you.” “Five million in damages if you quit. You decide.” The world saw me crying in a dark hallway, with nowhere to go. The world saw the fifteen days of hell I endured. [She was slapped thirty times in one week for ‘missing cues.’] [The girls cut her dresses and put filth in her makeup bag.] [Preston entered the show just to prey on her.] [Chloe is a warrior. I would have broken on day one.]

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391431”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

After my twentieth boyfriend was exposed as a “total jerk” by my best friend, Scarlett Pierce, I finally caved and agreed to an arranged marriage, tying the knot with Ryan Carter, scion of a powerful family, in a whirlwind ceremony. Later, at a friend’s gathering, Scarlett, with a half-eaten slice of cake, sidled up to Ryan, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness. “Ryan, honey, I find this a tad too sweet. Could you possibly finish it for me?” I intervened, but instead of seeing the problem, she erupted. “What’s the big deal? I was just testing your husband’s character! What are you getting so worked up about?!” “We’ve been best friends for over a decade. You don’t honestly think I’m after your husband, do you?” In the past, I might have fallen for it. But not this time. I’d been reborn. I grabbed the cake from the table and smashed it right into her face. “You, of all people, to test someone else’s character? What a joke!” “You’re nothing but my former driver’s daughter, so stop pretending to be a socialite!” “I think you’ve not only set your sights on my husband, but you’ve probably already mapped out how you’re going to climb into his bed!” … My outburst turned heads. Friends started gathering around, and Scarlett’s face cycled through shades of crimson and white. It took her a full minute to compose herself. Wiping the cake from her face, she shrieked, “Olivia Howard, how could you speak to me like that?!” “All these years, if I hadn’t helped you weed out those twenty jerks, would you even be married to Ryan right now?” Ryan’s brow furrowed, just as I expected. He knew I’d had ex-boyfriends, but he likely had no idea the number was so… impressive. I smiled, my gaze fixed on Scarlett, and countered, “Back then, every time I started dating someone new, you were practically desperate to ‘test’ them for me. So, me going through boyfriends every two months, that’s perfectly normal, isn’t it?” “And speaking of which, I bet you’ve slept with quite a few of my exes, haven’t you?” Scarlett was, in fact, the daughter of my family’s driver. When I was in elementary school, her father died saving mine, and his only wish was for the Howards to look after his daughter. My father, a man of profound gratitude, not only financially supported Scarlett for years but also let her live with us. We were inseparable, quickly becoming confidantes. She’d always post my designer items online, cultivating this image of a wealthy socialite, and I never said a word. But I never imagined that while I treated her as my best friend, she resented my good fortune. In my previous life, she grew green with envy over my marriage into a prominent family. She spread rumors about my promiscuity, and my ex-boyfriends, eager to please her, actually conspired to drug and assault me, even taking compromising photos. The trauma was too much, and I jumped to my death. It was only in my final moments that I discovered her scheme: she’d consistently used the identity of the ‘true Howard heiress’ to seduce my boyfriends. Afterwards, she’d always put on an innocent act. “Olivia, I truly had no idea that would happen. I only exchanged a few words with him, and suddenly he showed his true colors.” “But perhaps it’s for the best. At least you saw him for who he really was. Good riddance to a jerk like that.” She’d then wash her hands of it, as if the fault lay entirely with the men. The memory churned my stomach, making me feel violently ill. Scarlett’s eyes welled up, and she cast a pathetic glance at Ryan, biting her lip. “I didn’t! I had a strict upbringing, with a curfew and everything. How could I possibly do something like that?” “I haven’t even had a boyfriend to this day…” Just like in my past life, she was playing the innocent, pure socialite. I couldn’t stomach her act a second longer and stood up to leave. But Ryan grabbed my arm, pulling me back into my seat. “Olivia, Scarlett’s intentions were good. Let’s just drop it. It was just a joke, and I didn’t fall for it. Don’t worry, I’m not a jerk.” Those words sounded eerily familiar. After all, which of my twenty exes hadn’t sworn they weren’t jerks? It seemed Scarlett’s plan had worked. However, this time, I was going to make sure Scarlett Pierce bore the full consequences of messing with my alliance with the Carters! Ryan, as the sole heir to the Carter fortune, naturally commanded respect from our friends. They quickly chimed in, trying to placate me. “That’s right, Olivia, you’re already married to the Carter heir. Are you seriously worried about him running off?” “Exactly! I think Scarlett was just overly concerned for you.” “Wasn’t Scarlett your proudest best friend? How could she ever harm you?” “You have a wealthy husband and a socialite best friend. We’re all so envious. You should be grateful.” I clenched my fists, almost grinding my back teeth together, before forcing myself to sit back down, my rage barely contained. Scarlett smirked, winking at me, then plopped down next to me, deliberately placing her limited edition alligator skin bag on the table with a loud thwack. My friends gasped as they recognized it. “Scarlett! You actually got that bag!” “Oh my God! There are only three in the world, and the city’s richest man owns one. Are you…?” Scarlett, clearly surprised by the bag’s prestige, immediately seized the opportunity. With an arrogant air, she declared, “Oh, it’s nothing. My family has plenty of bags like this.” I almost burst out laughing. That bag was clearly my mother’s. How did it end up in Scarlett’s hands? In my previous life, she used to steal my mother’s jewelry and rent it out to fake socialites. This bag was likely acquired the same way. One friend looked from me to Scarlett, her expression thoughtful. “But isn’t the Carter family allied with the richest family in the city? If you’re the richest family’s daughter, then Olivia must be…” She paused, her tone subtly shifting. “Could it be true what people are saying outside, that Olivia is just an adopted daughter of the richest family?” Another immediately chimed in, “Yes, that’s right! I heard that to repay a debt of gratitude, they adopted their driver’s daughter and treated her as their own. So that must be Olivia.” “To sacrifice their own daughter’s marital happiness for a debt of gratitude, that’s a bit hard to understand.” “Oh dear, I wonder what the richest family was thinking, to use an adopted daughter for a marriage alliance! How disrespectful to the Carters!” “I think Scarlett and the Carter heir are a much better match!” Scarlett’s face flickered. After all, Ryan and I had eloped, and she wasn’t aware that ours was a commercial alliance. Ryan’s expression instantly darkened as well; his pride was clearly wounded. I pulled out my phone and leisurely scrolled through a local app. “Hmm, I think I’ve seen this bag on quite a few influencers in the city…” I paused deliberately, looking at Scarlett. “But all their profiles claim they’re wealthy socialites… Could it be that you all rent this bag and share it?” Scarlett’s face went from red to white, her eyes glaring at me as if she wanted to tear me apart. It made sense; in the past, I’d been so naive, never exposing her publicly like this, and even thanking her for ‘testing’ those jerks for me. Seeing that our friends were starting to doubt her, Scarlett, in a fit of furious embarrassment, snatched a pair of scissors from the front desk and began slashing at the bag, shouting, “This is mine! How dare you slander me?! I’ll cut it to shreds, and then you’ll have nothing to say!” A collective gasp swept through the room. No one dared to speak as a million-dollar alligator skin bag was ruined before our eyes. I tutted, a mocking smile playing on my lips. “Enjoying yourself, are we? Have you figured out how you’re going to explain this to my mom?!” The words had barely left my mouth when Scarlett’s face contorted in panic. The scissors slipped from her trembling hand, plunging straight into her finger. A piercing shriek filled the air, and crimson beads of blood instantly welled up. She dissolved into a fit of dramatic sobbing, her eyes, overflowing with tears, turned to me, a picture of pathetic despair. “Olivia, are you satisfied now?” Ryan seized her hand, gently sucking the blood from her wound with tender concern, then quickly bandaged it with a tissue. He led her towards the exit. “To the hospital.” Seeing me still rooted to my seat, he flared up. “Olivia, Scarlett isn’t just your best friend, she’s like your sister! How could you treat her like that?” “You are now the Carter family’s daughter-in-law. I’m doing this for the family’s reputation! I’ll tell my father about this, and you’d better reflect on your actions!” I strolled out unhurriedly, only to find Ryan already helping Scarlett into the passenger seat. He didn’t spare me a glance, floored the accelerator, and sped away. I leisurely browsed the mall for a bit, then returned to the Carter mansion. The moment I stepped inside, I ran into Scarlett, who was sprawled comfortably on the living room sofa, looking quite pleased with herself. Seeing me, she rubbed her temples. “Olivia, Ryan said I could stay at the Carter house for a while. You don’t mind, do you?” I set down my belongings and asked, a hint of mockery in my voice, “No more curfew for you, then?” Ryan’s cold voice cut in from behind me. “Olivia Howard! What’s with the passive aggression?! If you hadn’t scared Scarlett, she wouldn’t have gotten hurt!” “She’ll be recuperating here for a while, and since you’re the one responsible, you’ll be personally taking care of her!” Ah, I understood. He expected me, the true heiress, to play maid to Scarlett. I picked up my handbag again, ready to leave. “Alright then, I won’t intrude. I’ll go back to the Howard estate.” “You!” Ryan was speechless, momentarily stunned by my defiance. Scarlett, standing behind him, looked fragile and pale, a picture of vulnerability. She spoke softly, “Olivia, it’s alright, it’s not a big deal. I don’t need your apology.” “Ryan is a good man. I just hope you cherish him.” A flicker of tenderness crossed Ryan’s face, a look I had never seen directed at me since our marriage. He took Scarlett’s hand and instructed the housekeeper, “Mrs. Davies! Prepare the room on the second floor. Get Scarlett whatever she needs.” Then he turned to me, his tone impatient. “You, wait here! I’ll settle this with you when I get back!” I couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. “Mm, I’ll be waiting. We’ll see who’s settling scores with whom.” “Since you’re so smitten with my former driver’s daughter, I’ll just tell my parents to grant you both your wish!” Scarlett swayed, her eyes welling up, on the verge of tears. “Olivia, I know you’re still mad at me, but I truly did all this because I considered you my best friend, my sister.” “Even if you can’t understand me, you shouldn’t slander me like this…” If I hadn’t been reborn, I might have actually fallen for her act again. I stood up, glancing at Ryan, who was protectively holding Scarlett close. A mocking smile played on my lips. “You just called Ryan a good man? He’s practically embracing you right now. How does that still qualify him as ‘good’?” “Or is it only when a man sleeps with you, like before, that he earns the title of ‘jerk’?” “Olivia Howard!” Ryan pointed a furious finger at me. “Scarlett just showed me those chat logs! She had nothing going on with your exes!” “She merely exchanged a few messages, realized they had impure intentions, and kindly warned you!” “And I haven’t even started on you. With so many ex-boyfriends, just how desperate are you?!” Scarlett silently shed tears, murmuring, “Ryan, don’t blame Olivia. It’s my fault for interfering so much.” Ryan gently squeezed Scarlett’s shoulder, his voice dismissive. “She’s just an adopted girl who lives in your house; she has no real socialite upbringing in her bones.” “The Howards are really showing how little they think of the Carters, letting such a shameless slut marry into our family!” See? This was the twenty-first jerk Scarlett had “tested” for me. This time, I was truly grateful to her. I simply sat down, crossed my legs, and asked, nonchalantly, “So, you’re saying you want to call off the engagement?” At that, both Ryan and Scarlett froze. Scarlett had only ever dared to impersonate me to sabotage my relationships. Calling off a commercial alliance? That was a bridge too far, even for her. Ryan, however, quickly recovered, his voice firm. “It’s good that you know your place! The position of Carter family’s daughter-in-law was never meant for a fickle woman like you!” “If you know what’s good for you, get out! Don’t soil our Carter family’s property!” “Utterly preposterous!” The words had barely left his lips when a furious roar came from the doorway. “Call off the engagement?! It’s not your place to say!” Everyone turned to look. My father, Arthur Howard, strode in, his face thunderous, followed by my displeased mother, and the somewhat uncomfortable-looking Carter parents. Ryan immediately pointed at me, lodging his complaint. “Dad! The Howards actually used an adopted daughter to ally with us! It’s scandalous! When did the Carters start marrying adopted daughters?!” My father-in-law, Christopher Carter, turned green at Ryan’s words. He pointed a finger at Ryan’s nose and shouted, “You! Ryan! What nonsense are you spouting?!” He then turned back to my father, forcing a smile. “Arthur, the children are being foolish. Don’t pay them any mind.” My mother pulled me behind her, her eyes scanning me with concern. “Olivia, if you hadn’t told me today, I wouldn’t have known how much you’ve suffered…” My father, his fury boiling, pointed at Christopher and roared, “Who just said they wanted to call off the engagement? Fine! Does our Olivia even care about this ‘Carter family daughter-in-law’ title? Take a good look at yourselves in the mirror!” “My Howard daughter, when did it become your place to look down on her?!” Ryan finally realized he’d stirred up a hornet’s nest. He immediately let go of Scarlett’s hand, his face panicked. “Dad, it’s not like that, you’ve misunderstood! I just…” Scarlett hung her head, wishing the floor would swallow her, and mumbled, “I didn’t say anything…” My mother grabbed her arm, clutching her chest as she fumed, “Scarlett Pierce! How have we treated you all these years?!” “You ate our food, lived under our roof, and this is how you bully Olivia?! Do you have any conscience at all?!” All these years, my parents treated her like their own daughter, showering her with generous gifts and allowances during holidays. Faced with such a betrayal, my mother’s heart naturally ached. Scarlett knew she was in the wrong but stubbornly retorted, raising her head to argue, “If it weren’t for my father, would Mr. Howard be where he is today?” “You don’t even appreciate me, and now you’re ganging up to bully me! What did I do wrong?” My mother rubbed her temples in frustration. “What did we, the Howards, ever deny you? But you insisted on taking Olivia’s… Do you have no shame?!” Then my mother spotted the ruined alligator bag, her hands trembling uncontrollably. “You…! I worked so hard to get that bag! And you destroyed it like this?!” Scarlett nervously stepped back. “So what…? You owe my dad, and that pathetic bag isn’t even enough to repay it!” My mother seemed to lose all hope in that moment, her voice chilling. “Either you pay for it, or I call the police.” Pay for it? That bag was currently worth 500,000 dollars—enough to force her to cough up all the money she’d earned from impersonating a socialite over the years! Hearing the word “police,” Scarlett looked panicked at Ryan, but he was too preoccupied to notice her. Seeing my mother pull out her phone to call the police, she stammered, “Fine, I’ll pay! You’re all fake philanthropists! You give me things only to take them back! It’s disgusting!” My father took a deep breath, choosing to ignore the peculiar Scarlett. He coldly addressed Christopher Carter, “Given the circumstances, we, the Howards, no longer recognize Ryan as our son-in-law! We’ll arrange the divorce tomorrow!” Christopher panicked. While the Carter family was wealthy, they had recently been heavily pressured by competitors, and their stock had plummeted like a stone. He had pleaded with my father for over half a year to secure this marriage, hoping it would prop up the Carter family. Now, everything was ruined by Scarlett and Ryan. He wiped the sweat from his forehead, his face plastered with a forced smile as he addressed me, “Olivia, Ryan was just momentarily confused. Please forgive him. Our Carter family only recognizes you as our daughter-in-law!” My mother-in-law, her face flushed with fury, didn’t say a word. She simply walked up and slapped Scarlett. “It’s all your fault, you vixen! Seducing Ryan!” Then she turned to me, her face beaming with a gentle smile. “That’s right, Olivia, it seems it’s all this vixen’s fault. Don’t be angry!” I turned my head in disgust. “What are you talking about? Scarlett was doing me a favor, testing my husband’s loyalty.” “Now that it’s proven my husband’s a jerk, why would I stay with him?” Scarlett clutched her face, tears streaming down, looking utterly fragile. “I… I didn’t do anything!” “I just said a few words, and those men came at me. Is that my fault? Blame her for being so unlucky!” Even now, she was still putting on an act. I smiled, holding up my phone. “Are you sure you just ‘said a few words’?” “Did you really think by deleting and editing the chat logs, no one would notice?” My father took the phone. After reading through it, his face turned ashen. The phone displayed a group chat with twenty-one members—all my ex-boyfriends. At this moment, they were enthusiastically sending screenshots of their intimate conversations with Scarlett into the group, the content utterly disgusting. In my past life, these jerks were so smitten by Scarlett’s “true heiress” persona that, to curry favor with her, they even conspired to kill me. Reborn, the first thing I did was reconnect with all those jerks and then presented undeniable proof of my true identity, thoroughly humiliating them. When they saw Scarlett’s childhood photos with me, they couldn’t help but mock her. “She really claimed she was naturally beautiful? Which part of her hasn’t been touched up?” “Honestly, if she hadn’t always pulled her collar down, I wouldn’t have even looked at her.” …

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1 My roommate, Delilah, kept a vividly patterned pet snake in our dorm. Out of kindness, I bought a terrarium and explained to her that many girls in the dorm were terrified of snakes. If it got out, it would scare people. Instead, she lashed out, “Ophelia! Can you not be so disgusting? This is a living creature, and you want to lock it in such a tiny box?” “It’s just a pet snake; it won’t bite anyone. Even if it did, it’s just a small scratch, not poisonous. I don’t know what you’re so scared of.” In the middle of the night, her so-called pet snake slithered into the adjacent room and bit the girlfriend of a wealthy young man. By the time we arrived, the girl had already passed out. Luckily, I managed to suck the venom from her arm, saving her life. The incident sparked endless online condemnation. Delilah and two other roommates colluded, claiming I was the snake’s owner. The young man, consumed by rage, simply waved his hand, and my family was ruined. When I woke up again, I was back to the moment Delilah brought the snake into the dorm. I pulled out the glass terrarium I was holding, which I’d repurposed into an aquarium teeming with Water bead figures. “Don’t worry, this is just for my Water beads.” … I pulled a package from under my desk and began to open it. Delilah, sitting nearby, immediately peered over. “Ophelia, what did you buy? It’s so huge!” That familiar tone, those exact words, brought a cynical smirk to my lips. Still as irritating as ever, I thought. Tearing open the box, I replied, “I saw someone online with Hello Kitty-shaped Water beads the other day and just loved them, so I bought a small glass cabinet to keep some.” Hearing this, Delilah visibly relaxed, patting her chest with a sigh of relief. “Oh, that. I thought you bought it specifically to lock up ‘Noodle’.” Noodle, as in her pet snake, which was, in fact, highly venomous. “Don’t worry,” I assured her, “this is just for my Water beads.” She seemed relieved but still looked unconvinced. She walked over, watching my movements closely. “Do Water beads need heating?” Then, picking up the nearby shipping box in a huff, she demanded, “You’re not lying to me, are you? You still want to lock up my Noodle?” Lily, who was close with Delilah, poked her head around, looking suspicious. “Ophelia, you wouldn’t actually try to lock Noodle up, would you?” “Even though it’s a snake, it’s been in the dorm for half a month. You’ve seen it; it doesn’t bite. Why are you still so fixated on this?” Lily’s challenge bolstered Delilah’s confidence. She glared at me, demanding an explanation. “Noodle isn’t a caged animal by nature; it has a right to freedom! Don’t you think what you’re doing is disgusting, Ophelia?” A right to freedom? Then why don’t you release it into the wild? So ridiculous. Though I scoffed inwardly, my face remained impassive. I swiftly picked up another package at my feet and opened it. Right in front of them, I poured water inside, then dumped a whole bag of Water beads in. The already small glass cabinet was instantly packed. “See? It really is just for my Water beads. There’s no room for Noodle, right?” “Besides, it’s such a gentle, adorable creature. I’d sooner lock myself in than lock it up, wouldn’t I?” Only then did the two back down. Delilah watched my every move as she returned to her spot. It was tonight, in my previous life, that the snake had slithered into the adjacent room and bitten someone. I carefully placed the glass cabinet, snapped a photo, and updated my status on various social media platforms, asking when my Hello Kitty Water beads would grow bigger. Content, I climbed into bed. When we started freshman year, Delilah cultivated an image of an animal lover. Initially, she and Lily, who also loved animals, would discuss them in the dorm. I wasn’t very interested and never joined in, which led them to label me as cold-hearted. By sophomore year, our dorm was a constant chaos of stray cats Delilah brought back out of “kindness,” dirty puppies leaping onto beds, leaving muddy paw prints. There were even chirping sparrows, rescued and flying wildly around the dorm, leaving droppings everywhere. She claimed she loved animals more than anything; they were so much easier than dealing with people. Lily echoed her, saying she wished to be a carefree kitten in her next life, mentioning her own incredibly cute Ragdoll cat at home. They hit it off instantly. In the second semester of sophomore year, Delilah mentioned her pet snake, and the two immediately agreed it was quiet, wouldn’t attract the resident advisor, and wouldn’t leave messes, making it easy to keep in the dorm. I initially thought she was just bringing it to show us, figuring such a rare and valuable small snake wouldn’t be easy to keep in a dorm, and she’d take it away in a couple of days. But the next day, Delilah brought frozen mice for the snake and even laid a pad by her bed to sleep with it. Noodle seemed to become a permanent resident, always appearing in unexpected places around the dorm, startling us. Delilah and Lily, however, didn’t care. They constantly played with the little snake, even mocking our other roommate, Scarlett, who was so scared she barely came back to the dorm. I spoke with Delilah once, suggesting she get a terrarium to keep Noodle contained, preventing harm and making Scarlett less afraid. She immediately flipped out, yelling at me, calling me disgusting, heartless, someone who disliked animals, and a cold person. She spent days in the dorm, cradling Noodle, making snide remarks about me being unable to tolerate them. Anyone who dared to say anything negative about Noodle would be met with a barrage, as if she wanted to dig up their ancestors to prove they were cold-blooded. It wasn’t until the snake started appearing everywhere near my bed, even on it, that I really started to worry. I wanted to discuss buying a terrarium with her, at least to keep it somewhat managed. Instead, I was met with Delilah’s verbal abuse and ostracization. And because of that very terrarium, they later accused me of being the snake’s owner. This led to me suffering cyberbullying and being tormented half to death by that rich young man. Not only was my good deed repaid with malice, but I was maliciously slandered, ultimately leading to a tragic end where my family was destroyed. This time, I wasn’t getting involved in their mess. 2 It was that very night, in my past life, that Lily, feeling hot, left the balcony door open. Delilah’s snake slithered out and bit Anastasia, a beautiful girl in the adjacent room, who was on the phone with her wealthy boyfriend. Anastasia’s piercing scream echoed through the hall, and Delilah immediately realized her snake was gone. The neighbors knocked on our door, asking if the snake had come from our room. Anastasia lay unconscious on the floor, her phone still buzzing with her worried boyfriend’s calls. Her roommates were frozen in shock. Delilah was utterly terrified, muttering, “This can’t be… Noodle is just a pet snake…” Lily frowned deeply at the scene, while Scarlett shrieked and ran back into our room. Anastasia’s arm was visibly bleeding black. I rushed forward and used my mouth to suck the venom from Anastasia’s arm. The thick black blood made Delilah’s eyes widen in horror. Students from the neighboring rooms gathered, filming snippets on their phones. These videos were uploaded online, and rumors spread like wildfire. Delilah was too scared to respond. That night, our dorm was as silent as a tomb. The snake was immediately killed by Anastasia’s wealthy boyfriend when he arrived. The next day after classes, the four of us were taken by the young man. To my shock, all three of them stood united, and under their combined accusation, I was mistakenly identified as the snake’s owner. My explanations were weak and useless. The young man, furious, yelled at me: “I’m not stupid! You were the only one who dared to suck the venom from Anastasia; if not you, then who else?” “Still trying to argue! They all say it was you; are they all against you?” “You hurt Anastasia; I’ll make you pay!” The young man locked me up, unleashing various snakes on me daily. When I was finally released, barely clinging to life, I discovered that Delilah and the others had jointly reported me for keeping a snake in the dorm and harming someone. I received a disciplinary warning, and all my chances for academic honors were gone. Online opinion, manipulated by Delilah’s deliberate explanations and smears, turned entirely against me. I became the snake’s owner, subjected to personal attacks and insults. They even specifically posted photos of the terrarium I had bought, leaving me speechless, unable to explain, and with no one believing me. My father lost his job at the young man’s behest, my mother fell gravely ill with no money for medicine, and soon after, both passed away. The pain and hatred from my previous life felt like a gaping, bleeding wound in my heart. This time, I was prepared with recording and audio devices. We’d see how they tried to pin this on me now. That evening, I was interacting with friends online when I suddenly heard a scream. It was Anastasia’s voice. Delilah, who was playing a game, jumped in fright and immediately cursed, “What’s her problem, screaming so late at night? Does she really think she’s a princess just because she snagged some rich guy?” Then she shrieked, “Ah! Where’s my Noodle? Lily, is Noodle with you?” Lily and Scarlett both said no. Delilah immediately called out to me, “Ophelia, did you take my Noodle?” “No,” I replied. Just then, there was a frantic knocking at our dorm door. Delilah opened it to a neighbor, whose face was pale. “Is that snake from your room? Get over here, now!” Delilah hadn’t expected things to turn out this way. Anastasia lay motionless on the ground, her brow furrowed, lips blackened. And biting her arm, refusing to let go, was Delilah’s Noodle. “Call an ambulance, quickly!” I urged. Delilah’s face instantly went white; her feet seemed rooted to the spot. Lily snapped out of it and pulled Delilah. “Delilah, grab the snake! It’s your snake!” Delilah glared at Lily, shaking her head in terror and backing away. “How could it bite someone? I don’t know what to do!” The wound was black, clearly indicating potent venom. I stepped forward, grabbed the snake, and then sucked the venom from Anastasia’s arm. Delilah claimed to be a kind-hearted girl who loved animals, insisting her Noodle was just a pet snake that couldn’t possibly bite, and even if it did, it wouldn’t be venomous. But Anastasia’s condition hardly looked like a non-venomous bite. Soon, a commotion erupted outside the dorm. It was the young man. He stormed into the room, first glancing at me, then swept Anastasia into his arms and left. More and more students gathered, filming videos and posting them on various social media platforms. The dorm snake bite incident went viral overnight. Students at our university were shocked, and the school administration was furious, vowing to severely punish the snake’s owner. Online, netizens were equally outraged: “Keeping a snake in the dorm? Oh my god, how disgusting! Glad I never had roommates like that.” “Keeping a snake secretly is bad enough, but not keeping it contained, and it turns out to be venomous? Now what? Going to have to pay millions?” “Just seeing a snake makes me scared. How could they bring it into the dorm? Aren’t their roommates scared?” A blizzard of insults and attacks flew online. Seeing the endless negative comments searching for the snake’s owner, Delilah finally grew afraid.

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My husband’s secretary was trapped in a locked car for half an hour. In a fit of blind rage, he locked me inside the storage room. I knelt on the floor, desperately gripping the hem of his shirt, confessing to a crime I didn’t commit. But he impatiently pried my fingers away and stomped hard on my hand. His eyes held not a single shred of warmth. “Who do you think you are, daring to hurt Chloe?” Suffering from severe claustrophobia, I curled up in the pitch-black, cramped space, gasping violently for air. My palms were torn and bloody from clawing at the door, yet it did nothing to fend off the suffocating, impending grip of death. A week later, he finally remembered me after returning from an overseas vacation with his secretary. But little did he know, I had long died in a pool of terror and hatred. Chapter 1 1 When Ethan Carter walked into the villa with his arm wrapped tightly around Chloe Davis’s waist, the maids had already decorated the house perfectly. Rose petals scattered across the floor, a dazzling diamond necklace resting on the dining table, and beside it, a three-tier cake featuring a custom cartoon caricature of a girl. Everything screamed of just how much Ethan valued Chloe. Leaning against Ethan’s chest, Chloe saw the surprise. She covered her mouth in shock, her eyes shimmering with tears as she looked up at him. “Ethan, you treat me so well!” Ethan affectionately tapped the tip of her nose, his tone incredibly gentle. “I have one more gift for you.” He turned to his personal assistant and ordered coldly: “Go upstairs and tell Mia to come down. I’m going to make that vicious bitch kneel and apologize to Chloe in front of everyone.” I watched the man I had loved for ten years with cold, dead eyes. My heart was utterly numb. “Ethan, please don’t blame Mia. I believe she didn’t mean to hurt me on purpose. We are half-sisters, after all. If you punish her, it’ll break my heart.” Chloe’s voice took on a tearful edge, but with my omniscient view, I caught the fleeting gleam of pure malice in her eyes. Yes, I was already dead. A week ago, an infuriated Ethan decided to “teach me a lesson” by locking me inside a storage room that was barely ten square feet. I had desperately clawed at the doorframe, admitting to every fabricated sin he accused me of, just begging him not to lock me in that dark, suffocating box. But all he left me was his back and a vicious promise: “I will make you suffer a hundred times over for the pain you caused Chloe. This is what you owe her!” He seemed to have completely forgotten that I suffered from severe claustrophobia. While he held Chloe’s hand and flew to Iceland to watch the Northern Lights, I was curled into a tight ball, suffocating. I had pinched and clawed at my own arms and thighs until they were a bloody mess, desperately trying to anchor my fading consciousness. But in the end, it wasn’t enough. In my final moment, my soul violently tore itself away from that terrifying room. Hearing Chloe plead for me, Ethan’s heart melted. He reached out and gently cupped her cheek. “You’re just too kind for your own good. That’s why she keeps bullying you. I won’t let her hurt you ever again!” I couldn’t help but let out a cold laugh. So, in his eyes, I had always been this evil, venomous woman. Everything I had ever sacrificed for him had become nothing more than a colossal joke. Just then, his assistant came running down the stairs in an absolute panic. 2 “Mr. Carter, there’s no response from the storage room. Mrs. Carter… she doesn’t seem to be breathing.” A flicker of panic flashed across Ethan’s eyes, but it was quickly replaced by a knowing, cynical smirk. “Liam, has Mia bought you out too?” “I let it slide when you helped her trap Chloe in the car, but now you’re helping her fake her own death?” “It seems you’ve forgotten who signs your paychecks. Pack your things. You’re fired.” Before Liam could even utter a word of defense, Ethan took Chloe’s hand and led her up to the master bedroom. Liam stood frozen in the foyer. He opened his mouth, but ultimately, no words came out. I genuinely couldn’t fathom how Ethan had morphed into this monster. We used to be so deeply in love. I had known Ethan for ten years. I stayed by his side when he built his startup from the ground up, all the way until he became a rising corporate magnate. But it wasn’t until I died that I finally understood: the scale in Ethan’s heart had tipped the very second Chloe walked into his life. Chloe Davis was Ethan’s personal secretary. She was also my half-sister. A week ago, Ethan took Chloe and Liam on a business trip to visit a supplier. That same day, my mother—who was in the final stages of terminal cancer—had a rare moment of clarity. She held my hand, softly asking about my marriage with Ethan. But the very next second, the numbers on her monitor plummeted. Staring at the closed doors of the resuscitation room, I helplessly dialed Ethan’s number. He rushed over and sat silently beside me in the waiting area. That is, until his phone rang. It was Chloe, and his face instantly drained of color. Over the phone, Chloe weakly sobbed about how scared she was, even having the nerve to tell Ethan to “take good care of your legal wife.” Panic consumed Ethan. Ignoring my tearful pleas, he didn’t even grab his coat before sprinting out of the hospital to save her. What he didn’t know was that just ten minutes after he walked away, my mother left this world forever. The pathetic part was that even then, I still hadn’t grasped how much Chloe meant to him. Not until he shoved me into that storage room with a deadpan expression, crouched down, pinched my jaw hard, and said with ice in his voice: “Mia, I used to think you were just a bit jealous, but I never realized you were this venomous. Chloe is your own sister, and you actually tried to kill her.” “If it weren’t for you and your short-lived mother, I wouldn’t have left Chloe’s side when she was in danger!” “Stay in here and reflect on what you’ve done. You can come out when you finally figure out exactly what you did wrong.” My fingers were crushed beneath his expensive shoes, and my heart was left numb with agony. And now, he was still waiting for me to lower my head and obediently apologize. Too bad for him, this was one expectation I would never meet. Ethan stood outside the storage room door, his face radiating icy disdain. “Mia, it’s time to drop this little temper tantrum of yours. You know my patience is limited.” “Crawl out here right now and give Chloe a proper apology, and I might just consider forgiving you.” He was met with dead silence. Growing impatient, Ethan pounded heavily on the storage room door, his voice turning malicious. “Fine. If you don’t want to come out, then rot in there.” Watching his retreating figure, a profound sorrow welled up inside me. I had no choice but to admit that the man I once loved so fiercely had rotten away from the inside out a long time ago. Chapter 2 3 For the next few days, Ethan stayed by Chloe’s side. He didn’t come home once. I watched him diligently care for another woman—taking her out to dinner, watching movies with her, doing every romantic thing couples do. All I could do was laugh at my own pathetic life. Today was my father’s birthday. Bright and early, Ethan showed up at the Davis residence with bags of expensive gifts, Chloe right by his side. My father, who was watering the plants in the front yard, beamed with joy as he ushered them inside. Chloe skipped over and intimately hooked her arm through my father’s, acting spoiled and sweet. Ethan just watched her with a fond smile, carrying the gifts behind them. It was so natural. It looked like the three of them were the real family. At the dinner table, Chloe’s sweet-talking had my father laughing non-stop. Ethan routinely picked up Chloe’s favorite dishes and placed them in her bowl. From beginning to end, not a single person mentioned me. It was Ethan’s ringing phone that shattered the domestic bliss. He answered it, and the voice on the other end made his expression freeze. “Hello, Mr. Carter. I am a doctor at City General Hospital. We received a female corpse today. Based on DNA matching, we have confirmed that the deceased is your wife, Mrs. Mia Carter.” “Would it be convenient for you to come to the hospital now to process the paperwork?” Ethan furrowed his brow, listening to the caller. Then he scoffed, his tone dripping with mockery. “Oh? Let me guess, Mia hired you to put on this little show? Do me a favor and tell her that playing dead won’t earn my forgiveness.” “Also, tell her this trick is incredibly boring.” Without waiting for a response, Ethan hung up the phone. Seeing him put the phone down, Chloe asked with a face full of concern: “Ethan, did something happen to my sister?” Ethan reached out, affectionately patted the top of her head, and shook his head. But for the rest of the dinner, he was completely distracted. He even accidentally served Chloe celery several times, knowing it was the vegetable she hated most. Even my father noticed something was off, so he didn’t insist Ethan stay late. To my surprise, after Ethan drove Chloe home that night, he didn’t stay over at her place like he usually did. Instead, he drove straight to City General Hospital. I followed him to the chilly hallway outside the morgue. His hand rested on the door handle, but he hesitated to press it down. I saw his lips moving. It wasn’t until I drifted closer that I heard what he was whispering. “Mia, if I find out you’re playing another prank on me, I’m going to flay you alive!” Hah! Even now, he was still threatening a dead woman. If I had a physical body, I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself from slapping him across the face. As if he finally braced himself, Ethan pushed the door open and walked into the morgue. The medical examiner on the night shift was dozing off at his desk. Seeing Ethan’s dark figure, he jumped up in alarm. “Who are you?!” Acting as if he heard nothing, Ethan walked slowly toward a steel gurney a few feet away, where a body lay covered by a white sheet. “Mia, get the hell up! Stop pretending!” Ethan stood before the corpse, his fists clenched tight, shouting as if he were trying to suppress a massive surge of anger. But it was a corpse. How could a corpse answer him? Suddenly, Ethan lost his mind. He grabbed my lifeless body through the sheet and began shaking it violently. Somehow, even floating in the air, I felt a phantom wave of severe dizziness. The doctor finally snapped out of his shock, rushed over, and tackled Ethan in a bear hug to stop his manic shaking. “Mr. Carter, please calm down!” Ethan shoved the doctor away roughly, screaming: “This can’t be Mia! You’re all liars! You’re all lying to me!” Honestly, it had been a very, very long time since I had seen Ethan lose control like this. Yet, at this moment, I only felt an overwhelming urge to laugh. The doctor shook his head at Ethan’s hysterics. He walked back to his desk, picked up a piece of paper, and handed it to Ethan. Chapter 3 4 I floated closer and saw that it was my official death certificate. “Mr. Carter, it was your housemaid who noticed a foul odor coming from the storage room. That’s how your wife’s body was found.” “My condolences.” The doctor patted Ethan’s shoulder and quietly left the room, giving him space. Ethan was left entirely alone. He crouched on the floor, his head bowed, staring blankly at the death certificate in his hands. “How is this possible? Mia, how could you be dead?” “You’re lying to me, aren’t you?” “Yes, that has to be it! I’m going to expose your lie right now!” When Ethan tried to stand, he stumbled, staggering awkwardly toward the covered corpse. “Mia, I’m giving you one last chance. Get up right now, and we can pretend none of this ever happened.” The room was dead silent. Ethan pinched the corner of the white sheet but couldn’t bring himself to lift it. I saw his fingers trembling uncontrollably. A sudden, wicked urge flared within me—I wanted to scare him. I wanted him to taste true terror and despair. Summoning all the spectral energy I had, I blew a gust of cold air directly at the sheet. It slipped off the body and drifted to the floor. My corpse was entirely exposed to his eyes. Due to suffocation, my face was a bruised, mottled purple. It was so grotesque that even I found it horrifying to look at. My eyes, which had never closed even in death, bulged out grotesquely. Under the eerie fluorescent lights of the morgue, it was a nightmarish sight. “Ahhhhh!” Ethan screamed, stumbling backward until he fell hard onto his rear. He kept scrambling backward, shouting: “Stay away from me! Don’t come closer! I was wrong!” Seeing his pathetic, comedic reaction, the heavy knot of resentment in my chest finally loosened just a bit. Ethan sat paralyzed on the floor for a long time before he finally caught his breath. When he stood up, his legs were still shaking violently. He slowly inched his way back to the corpse. Staring down at the lifeless, horrifying shell that used to be his wife, his eyes turned bloodshot. “How is this possible?” “Nothing happened between me and Chloe! Please, don’t be mad at me anymore, okay? Just come back!” A massive tear fell from his eye. Then a second, and a third. I truly didn’t understand this man anymore. When I was alive, he ruthlessly trampled all over my devoted heart. Now that I was dead, he was putting on this grand, tragic performance. Who was he acting for? 5 I had known Ethan for ten years, and I had loved him for ten years. When we first met, he was the untouchable, brilliant golden boy of our university, while I was quiet and gloomy due to my broken family. I never expected our paths to cross, but I couldn’t stop myself from watching his every move from afar. I was like a rat hiding in the dark, desperate for the light but too terrified to touch it, only able to admire it from a distance. In our senior year, I heard he was starting his own tech company. Without hesitation, I threw away a lucrative offer from a Fortune 500 company to join his scrappy startup. In the early days, it was just the two of us. I lived with him in a damp, moldy basement apartment. I ate stale leftovers and even ended up in the hospital with food poisoning just to save a few bucks. Even the claustrophobia that eventually killed me was entirely because of Ethan. Back then, we were desperately searching for a decent office space on a shoestring budget. We toured building after building. The accident happened on one of those tours. We found a newly built high-rise in the suburbs. Little did we know, the developers had cut corners and installed an elevator that didn’t meet safety standards. That day, Ethan and I were trapped in that pitch-black elevator for five excruciating hours. I genuinely thought I was going to die in there. Ever since that day, I suffered from paralyzing claustrophobia. But I never imagined that the man who survived that brush with death alongside me would eventually use an almost identical method to push me into my grave. Chapter 4 When the company finally stabilized, we threw a celebration party for landing our first million-dollar contract. That night, I confessed my feelings to him. I will always remember how we held each other tightly under the cheering of our colleagues. At that moment, I truly believed we were going to be together forever. The turning point came in our second year of dating. We were preparing for our wedding, but my parents suddenly announced their divorce. My normally elegant, composed mother went absolutely hysterical. That was when I learned my father had been cheating on her for years, and he had an illegitimate daughter born two months before me. That daughter was Chloe Davis. How hilarious was it? Just a few months prior, my father had pressured me into making Ethan bend the hiring rules to give Chloe a job at our company. The night before the wedding, my mother sat next to me, holding my hand. She told me all men were garbage and asked if I was really sure about this. At that time, I was naive but firmly convinced that Ethan would be the exception. Looking back now, my innocence was laughable. After leaving the hospital, Ethan drove back to our house. Seeing him enter, the maids rushed forward to greet him, but he just waved them off, his face deathly pale. He walked straight up to the storage room in the attic. Even though the maids had thoroughly cleaned it, a faint, foul odor of death still lingered. Returning to this terrifying place made my ghostly stomach churn. The despair and suffocation I felt right before I died crashed over me like a tidal wave. But Ethan acted as if he didn’t smell a thing. He walked right in. He suddenly pulled his arm back and punched the wall with everything he had, muttering like a madman: “Fine! You dare run away from me, Mia? Faking your death to trick me? When I catch you, you’re dead meat.” I didn’t even know how to react anymore. My literal corpse had been laid out right in front of his eyes, and he was still lying to himself. It was beyond pathetic. 6 Ethan locked himself in the master bedroom for two whole days, drinking bottle after bottle of whiskey. It wasn’t until the third day that a heavily dressed-up Chloe came to the house with a new assistant to pick him up. Today was the company’s annual gala. It sounds absurd, but as the CEO’s wife, I had never once attended an annual gala. After we got married, Ethan told me that a house needed someone to manage it, and he couldn’t bear to see me exhausted from the corporate grind. Like a fool, I believed him. I left the company and became a full-time housewife. Fast forward to today, and aside from a few founding members, almost no one at the company even knew Ethan was married. At the gala, Chloe hooked her arm through Ethan’s, flashing a radiant smile and never leaving his side. As the banquet neared its end, Ethan went on stage to give the CEO’s address. Towards the end, his tone shifted: “Tonight, I want to thank a very special someone. She has walked this long road with me, staying quietly by my side.” “Without her, I wouldn’t be who I am today, and this company wouldn’t exist.” … Before Ethan could finish, a commotion broke out near the front tables. Chloe had somehow collapsed onto the floor. The man who was just giving a speech instantly dropped his champagne glass, bolted off the stage, pushed through the crowd, and helped her up. Ethan’s face was fraught with tension. “Chloe, are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?” Chloe looked up, her eyes wide and tearful as she stared at his face. “I think I sprained my ankle. I’m so sorry, Mr. Carter, I interrupted your speech.” Without another word, Ethan scooped her up into his arms in a bridal carry. Chloe buried her flushed face into his chest, looking like a shy, delicate flower. Hah. Chloe was just using her old tricks to prove she held more weight in his heart than I did. Back when my parents first divorced, I only hated Chloe’s mother for destroying our perfect family. I had genuinely thought Chloe was innocent. I even entertained the delusion of being friends with her. But what did she do? At my father’s 60th birthday banquet, she pulled me aside near the staircase. Dropping the innocent facade she wore in front of the elders, she glared at me with pure venom. “I want you to watch very closely as I take everything that belongs to you. Not just our dad. Your man, too.” Then, she intentionally threw herself backward, tumbling down the stairs. I stood at the top, frozen in shock. By the time I snapped out of it, I was met with my father’s explosive fury: “How did I raise such a vicious daughter?! You’re exactly like your psychotic mother!” I stared numbly as the father I had always respected held Chloe with agonizing tenderness, while Ethan stood behind them, looking up at me with a complicated, dark expression. I tried to explain, but absolutely no one believed me. Although Ethan never said it out loud, I knew deep down he believed I was the one who pushed her. And from that day onward, Ethan and Chloe grew closer and closer. Chapter 5 Whenever Ethan went on business trips, he always remembered to bring her a gift. He reasoned, “She’s your sister and my subordinate. It’s only polite.” Whenever Chloe felt the slightest bit sick, Ethan was the first person she called. He would rush out in the dead of night to take her to the ER. To him, my complaints were just signs of a jealous, unsympathetic shrew. I watched Chloe slowly infiltrate my life and Ethan’s life, and I couldn’t do a thing to stop it. Because Ethan looked me dead in the eye and said, “I despise jealous women.” Just like tonight. Chloe clearly realized the “special someone” in his speech wasn’t her, so she deliberately bumped into a waiter and faked a sprained ankle. But I no longer had the right—or the desire—to intervene. 7 The gala ended abruptly due to Chloe’s “injury” and Ethan’s hasty exit. He carried her straight to his car and drove to the hospital. I couldn’t help but remember last winter. A nasty flu was going around, and I caught it. I laid in bed all day, burning up with a high fever, drifting in and out of consciousness. That night, unable to endure the pain, I called Ethan and begged him to come home and take me to the clinic. And what was his response? He said he was incredibly busy and told me not to bother him with such trivial things. He added that even if he rushed home, he wasn’t a doctor, so it wouldn’t make a difference anyway. You see, when it came to me, he was always so rational, so detached. But now, over Chloe’s minor ankle sprain, he dropped his entire company of employees just to rush her to the doctor. Strangely, though, when they arrived at the examination room, Ethan didn’t follow her inside. Chloe grabbed his sleeve, looking up with a confused, cautious expression. “Ethan, aren’t you coming in with me? Did I… did I make you mad?” Her voice grew quieter and quieter until she lowered her head, playing the role of the fragile victim perfectly. I had to admit, her acting was getting professional. It was a pitiable sight. But oddly enough, this time, Ethan wasn’t swayed by her routine. He stared blankly at the top of her head before finally speaking. “Be a good girl. I’ll have Liam’s replacement go in with you. I’m going to grab a smoke. I’ll be right back.” With that, he turned sharply and walked away. I followed him, only to find ourselves back in a very familiar place: the morgue. The night-shift doctor was the same as before. Seeing Ethan, he didn’t try to stop him. He just patted Ethan’s shoulder in sympathy and stepped outside. My corpse was still in the exact same spot. Ethan walked straight over to it, pulled back the white sheet, and stared with bloodshot eyes. “Mia, you’re just punishing me, right?” “Well, I’m telling you, it worked. You won. So please, just get up now.” He sat on the cold floor, his back leaning against the steel table, staring hollowly at the opposite wall. “Are you mad because I got too close to Chloe? As long as you come back, I’ll fire her immediately. I swear I’ll stay far away from her.” “I refuse to believe you’re dead. You loved me so much. How could you bear to leave me?” Ethan’s voice was hoarse, as if the words were being forcefully squeezed from his throat. By the end, he was choking back sobs. In the past, whenever he did something to upset me, all he had to do was lower his head and act slightly apologetic, and I would throw away all my boundaries and forgive him unconditionally. But that was in the past. Now, watching him play the victim and beg, I only felt nauseated. “That’s right. How could you bear to leave me? There has to be more to this. I’m going to find out the truth!” Ethan wiped away his tears, completely discarding his melancholic breakdown, and suddenly looked intensely driven. Seriously, I really wanted to ask him where he got the sheer audacity to assume I still harbored any lingering affection for him. He sprang up from the floor and marched out of the hospital with wide strides. He completely forgot about Chloe, who was still waiting for him in the examination room.

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My sister and I were adopted from the orphanage. My sister chose the Sterlings, a family with unmatched wealth and power. But the heir of the Sterling family had a twisted personality and tortured her every day. Meanwhile, I chose the ordinary Mercer family. Although their wealth couldn’t compare to the Sterlings, they treated me incredibly well. The young master of the Mercer family later became a business magnate and married me, giving me a life of absolute bliss. Driven mad by jealousy, my sister secretly strangled me to death. When I opened my eyes again, my sister didn’t hesitate to steal the life I had lived. She chose the Mercer family. “It’s your turn to be tortured this time, little sister.” I almost laughed out loud. Did she really think the young master of the Mercer family was a good person? 1. I was reborn, back to the day my sister Chloe and I were being adopted. “Sir, I’m obedient and I can do chores. Please adopt me.” Beside me, Chloe grabbed the hand of Vincent, the young master of the Mercer family. So, she had been reborn too. “Little girl, didn’t you just say you liked our family?” a wealthy woman spoke up. She was Mrs. Sterling, mother to Arthur Sterling, the heir to a New York real estate empire. Arthur himself wasn’t present. “I suddenly don’t like your family anymore. Is that a problem?” Chloe said, shrinking behind Vincent. Mrs. Sterling looked a bit annoyed. “Someone as fickle as you isn’t fit to enter the Sterling family anyway!” Then, she looked at me gently. “Sweetheart, come with me. We have a big brother at home for you, too.” I nodded and reached out my hand. Chloe’s eyes were full of triumph. She seemed very satisfied with my reaction. But what she didn’t know was that compared to the eccentric billionaire heir, I was far more terrified of the venomous snake that was Vincent Mercer. In my past life, I desperately tried to escape him. This time, she actually did me a huge favor. As I walked to the door with Mrs. Sterling, she went to pull the car around. Chloe suddenly walked up to me, her eyes brimming with contempt. “It’s your turn to be tortured this time, little sister.” I ignored her. Because to me, she was acting like an absolute clown right now! She thought this was a new beginning. But she had no idea she was jumping from one fire pit into an even deadlier inferno. 2. After being taken to the Sterling estate in the Hamptons, Mrs. Sterling gave me my own suite and hired private tutors for piano, dance, and etiquette. She told me, “Sweetheart, to be honest, I adopted a daughter because I wanted to raise the perfect daughter-in-law.” “You need to work hard now. Arthur is coming back from studying abroad in a month. As long as he takes a liking to you, your life will be perfect. After all, the entire Sterling empire will be his.” In our past life, Arthur didn’t like Chloe, which made her life miserable. I didn’t dare to hope that the aloof, aristocratic heir would fall for me. I had to rely on other methods to secure my future. A month later, the Sterlings hosted a grand banquet. It was to celebrate Arthur’s return to New York. Many elite families were invited, including the Mercers, who had business ties with the Sterlings. Chloe spotted me immediately and walked toward me in a white princess dress. “Little sister, today is going to be the most humiliating moment of your life.” In our past life, this banquet was where she first met Arthur. The moment Arthur saw her, he frowned. Then he told her to get lost in front of everyone. When she shamelessly clung to him, claiming to be his future wife, Arthur literally kicked her away. 3. Since I was also reborn, I already knew how this would play out and had prepared a backup plan. Chloe thought I would share her past-life fate. But I was about to disappoint her. Before Arthur could enter the banquet hall, I cornered him in a private lounge. It was our first time meeting. He was a full head taller than me, his handsome face utterly indifferent. Tsk, he really is unapproachable. I handed him a business proposal. “I know you have a new project and aren’t sure how to operate it. This is my plan. I guarantee it will turn a massive profit.” Growing up in the foster system, I only had a high school diploma, but I had a brilliant mind for business. In my past life, Vincent only became a business magnate because I was the mastermind behind his success. “How do you know about my new project?” Arthur took the folder, his long fingers flipping through a few pages. In my past life, this project belonged to Vincent. Back then, when I first moved into his house, he treated me well. So I used my own proposal to win this contract for him. But without me in this life, I discovered the project had landed in Arthur’s lap. “I did my research,” I smiled. “Mr. Sterling, I can draft project proposals for you from now on.” “But on one condition: we play nice in front of your family, but privately, we mind our own business.” Arthur was a businessman; he valued profit above all. If I could bring him value, he would surely be tempted. Just as I thought he would agree, he raised an eyebrow at me. “I get it. You want to trade your cooperation for a peaceful life here. Right?” “But didn’t my mother tell you she didn’t adopt a daughter, she adopted a bride?” “I know. So what’s your point?” I looked at him in confusion. He smirked and closed the folder. “Your proposal is excellent. But once you marry me, your proposals will belong to me anyway.” With that, he walked out. I stood there, still processing his words. What did he mean? Did he actually like me? No! He definitely just wanted to trap me into writing business plans for him forever. That had to be it. 4. When we entered the main hall, Mrs. Sterling pulled me along, introducing me to the elders. “This is my future daughter-in-law. She has a wonderful personality and is absolutely gorgeous.” Everyone showered me with praise. Nearby, Chloe stood next to Vincent, glaring at me with dark, brooding eyes. She walked over with a champagne glass and looked at Mrs. Sterling. “Mrs. Sterling, I heard Arthur just returned from abroad. Have he and my sister met yet?” “Does he actually approve of this ‘future wife’?” During the adoption, Chloe had already left a terrible impression on Mrs. Sterling. Hearing her speak now, Mrs. Sterling’s eyes flashed with displeasure. “Mind your own business!” “Our family matters are none of your concern. Who do you think you are?” Vincent’s face went pale. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Sterling. My sister doesn’t know her place.” As he said that, no one noticed the brief flash of malice in his eyes. But I had seen that look countless times in my past life. Every time, it signaled the start of a nightmare. Terrified, I took a step back and accidentally bumped into a warm chest. I turned around and saw Arthur. “Careful.” His eyes were filled with amusement, and his voice was as gentle as water. Chloe looked like she was about to explode. She was definitely wondering why Arthur was treating me so well. “Mr. Sterling, do you really like my sister?” “Do you know she’s an orphan? And that she was almost sexually assaulted?!” Chloe’s words plunged the entire hall into dead silence. Back at the foster home, an older man had snuck into my room and ripped my clothes. He tried to assault me, but I fought him off by smashing a vase over his head. Afterward, Chloe spread rumors that I had been violated. Later, she whispered to me, “Sister, guess who paid that man to do it?” That was when I realized she had set me up. Thinking of this, my fists clenched tightly. I was about to speak, but Arthur beat me to it. “Is that so?” He looked at Chloe. Chloe looked incredibly smug. “Yes! Lily was used by an old man—” Before she could finish, Arthur delivered a vicious kick, sending her flying backward. Instantly, all eyes in the room snapped toward them. Vincent looked humiliated. “Mr. Sterling, please calm down. It’s my fault for not disciplining my sister properly.” “If I ever hear her slandering my fiancée again, I’ll make sure she can’t survive in New York.” “Actually, no. Your entire Mercer family will be banished from this city.” “You really need to teach this sister of yours a lesson.” Arthur’s voice was frighteningly cold. Vincent quickly bowed. “You are absolutely right, Mr. Sterling. I’ll teach her a lesson right now.” Smack! Smack! Smack! Vincent marched over and slapped Chloe across the face, left and right. “Ah! Stop hitting me! It hurts…” Chloe’s screams echoed through the grand hall. Mrs. Sterling also spoke up. “I have officially acknowledged her as my daughter-in-law. From now on, remember her name is Lily Sterling. If I hear anyone bullying her, I will pay them back tenfold!” “Feel better?” Arthur whispered, pulling me close. “That was incredibly satisfying!” I felt like I could finally breathe freely. 5. Thanks to the scene Chloe caused, Arthur and I grew much closer. Plus, everyone now knew I was the future Mrs. Sterling and treated me with utmost respect. As for Chloe, she was dragged away by a furious Vincent. In our past life, Vincent hadn’t revealed his true nature this early. But because of today’s humiliation, his mask slipped prematurely. I knew Chloe’s nightmare was about to begin. I wondered if she could handle it. Over the following weeks, Chloe didn’t bother me once. I used the time to look for ways to make money, planning to eventually leave the city. Because having been reborn, I learned one crucial truth. Relying on yourself is the only way to survive! But while I was job hunting, Arthur reached out to me. He texted: Come work at my company. I’ll pay you $10,000 a month, plus a year-end bonus. This was perfect. I needed a high-paying job. I gladly accepted. However, on my way there, someone suddenly clamped a hand over my mouth. When I woke up, I was in a filthy public restroom. The floor was covered in slippery grime and reeked of sewage. Standing in front of me was the same man who had tried to assault me at the foster home. He bared his yellow teeth in a vulgar grin: “Once I’m done with you, you won’t be fit to be the Sterling family’s wife.” “Oh, by the way, I forgot to tell you. I already notified the Sterlings to come here.” I smiled: “Looks like that vase to the head didn’t hurt enough last time.” “What do you mean?” I pushed myself off the floor and pulled a gleaming, razor-sharp knife from my pocket. “Did you really think I’d fall for the same trick twice?” With that, I ruthlessly slashed my own arm. Blood poured out instantly. I even smeared it all over my clothes and body. Just then, the door was pushed open. “Mr. Sterling, please don’t be mad at my sister. She was just lonely and looking for a man—” Chloe froze mid-sentence when she saw me covered in blood. 6. “Arthur, he stabbed me! Am I going to die…?” Tears instantly spilled from my eyes as I looked pitifully at Arthur. His face drastically changed. He rushed over and scooped me into his arms. Mrs. Sterling, standing nearby, burst into tears of panic. “Lily, don’t be scared! We’re taking you to the hospital!” Chloe stood frozen in place. As Arthur carried me past her, he delivered a lethal threat: “You arranged this, didn’t you? Just wait.” “No… Mr. Sterling, it wasn’t me.” Chloe instantly dropped to her knees, begging for mercy. But Arthur had already carried me away. After my wound was bandaged at the hospital, Arthur gripped my hand tightly. “Don’t ever take a risk like that again.” “Whatever revenge you want, I can do it for you.” My heart skipped a beat. He knew I did it on purpose. “How did you know?” “I know you too well.” “You clearly had the ability to fight back, but you didn’t. That means you injured yourself intentionally.” I had taken self-defense classes in my past life and had the ability to fight back. But we had only met a handful of times. How did he know me so well? “Don’t worry. No matter who hurt you, I’ll make them pay.” I nodded, staying silent. Last time, when Vincent dragged Chloe away, I knew she wouldn’t be able to resist seeking revenge. So, I had someone tail her. I discovered she was in contact with that man, plotting against me. So, I decided to beat her at her own game. The Sterlings were an elite family. They would never stand by and do nothing if their future daughter-in-law was harmed. That was why I injured myself. I wanted to use the Sterlings’ power to crush Chloe and the Mercers. After all, I clearly remembered every single thing they did to me in my past life. 7. Vincent brought Chloe to apologize to me. They carried stacks of expensive gifts and knelt at the entrance of the Sterling estate. Chloe wore a face mask, her eyes filled with defiance. Vincent slapped her hard across the face. “Stop glaring! All you do is glare. Believe me, I’ll gouge your eyes out!” “If I knew you were like this, my family would have never adopted you!” Chloe trembled in fear. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I won’t glare anymore.” Watching this from the second-floor balcony, I burst out laughing. Chloe surely hadn’t expected that stealing my life would still result in her being tortured. Because she didn’t know that Vincent was a venomous snake. And the Mercer parents only adopted a daughter to give their twisted son a new toy to play with. I remembered it all too well. I remembered exactly how brutally I was tortured in my past life. Chloe was wearing long sleeves, pants, and a mask. She was definitely hiding bruises. I went downstairs and opened the door. “Sister, what brings you here?” “Lily, your sister and I came to apologize. Please be the bigger person and forgive him. Ask Mr. Sterling to continue his partnership with us. My family’s company is on the verge of bankruptcy.” Vincent looked at me with a pathetic expression. Seeing his face made me sick to my stomach! How could I ever accept their apology? “I don’t accept.” “Lily, don’t push your luck—” Chloe swallowed the rest of her words when she saw Arthur walk out. “Mr. Sterling, I really didn’t hire that man the other day.” “That man already confessed at the police station. Are you sure you want to keep lying?” Arthur raised an eyebrow at her. She hurriedly apologized: “I… I’m sorry, Mr. Sterling. I had a moment of foolishness.” Then she looked at me, crying: “Sister, we grew up together. Please, be the bigger person and let me go.” I reached out and ripped her mask off. Her face was covered in bruises and cuts. I smiled softly: “Sister, seeing you so miserable puts my mind at ease.” Hearing this, the fury in her eyes flared up instantly. But with Arthur standing right there, she didn’t dare lash out. I told her I wouldn’t be soft-hearted. She hurt me, and I couldn’t just let it go. 8. A week later, the Mercer family’s company declared bankruptcy. In my past life, their company flourished because of me. But in this life, Chloe’s “brilliant” moves drove them straight into the ground. I heard that Vincent had fully unleashed his true nature. He beat Chloe daily and locked her inside the house. Meanwhile, I worked peacefully every day, making a lot of money working for Arthur. I assumed Arthur treated me well simply because he appreciated my business talents. He couldn’t possibly have real feelings for me. So, my plan was still to save enough money and leave. But Arthur seemed to be completely serious about me. One day, while I was handing him some documents, he suddenly pulled me into his arms. “The wedding is set for next month. Do you want to go try on wedding dresses?” I was stunned. “You’re serious?” “Of course.” He took my hand, gently tracing my fingers. “I made up my mind the first time I saw you.” “Lily, I promise to treat you well.” Why was this Arthur so different from the one in my past life? Still, needing his protection to ensure my peaceful life at the Sterling estate, I agreed.

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At the end of the year, my wife dragged me to her high school reunion. While she was busy playing the part of the successful CEO, I found myself scrolling through a viral thread on a popular forum. [My first love’s husband is terminally ill. What should I do?] The top comment read: [What does her husband being sick have to do with you?] The original poster (OP) replied: [Because I’m planning on taking his place.] The comments section exploded. [What kind of homewrecker logic is this?] [Wait, I just checked OP’s profile… are you the designer behind ‘The Dying Star’?!] My fingers trembled against the screen. The Dying Star. It was a piece I had sculpted when I was eighteen. The OP replied below: [Oops, caught me. I designed it for my first love, but she got married while I was studying abroad.] The tone of the thread shifted instantly to one of tragic romance. [I’m at her reunion today. Her husband is here, but I managed to text her and get her alone. She’s had a little to drink and she’s crying in my arms right now.] Attached was a photo. A woman was clinging to a man’s waist, her face buried in his chest. She was wearing a custom-tailored suit—the exact one my wife, Victoria, had put on this morning. … I reached for a glass of red wine on the table and drained it in one gulp. A former classmate sitting next to me noticed my sudden pallor and waved a hand in front of my face. “You okay, Miles? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” I exhaled slowly, forcing my heart to stop its frantic hammering. “I’m fine. Just need some air.” Once I stepped out into the hallway, I opened the app again. The sentiment had done a total 180. [Such a tragedy. OP and his first love were clearly meant to be.] [I’ve seen ‘The Dying Star’ in person. I never knew jewelry could hold that much pain.] [I heard that design won a dozen international awards. OP is a literal genius.] When I was in school, I had designed The Dying Star for my secret crush, Victoria Beaumont. Now my wife. She told me she had locked it away in a private vault, too precious to wear. Aside from her, no one knew it was my work. Who was this “genius designer” claiming my life? I walked toward the stairwell, and as I rounded the corner, I heard voices coming from behind the heavy fire door. I hesitated, then pushed it open just a crack. “Her husband is dying,” a man’s voice whispered, thick with a smug sort of pity. “What are you going to do about him, Victoria?” “Why? Are you looking for a promotion to ‘husband’ already?” Victoria’s voice followed, light and teasing. “Don’t be mean. You were literally crying two minutes ago because you missed me so much. Now you’re picking on me?” “I’m picking on you? Fine. I’ll show you what picking on you really looks like.” The man let out a small, playful gasp. Then came Victoria’s low, melodic laugh. The sound made the blood in my veins turn to ice. After ten years of marriage, I knew that laugh better than my own name. I pulled my hand back and walked blindly down the hall. I clicked on the OP’s profile. Most of his posts were from international IP addresses, and every single one was about his “first love.” [Year one apart: She told me she’d never love anyone else.] [My Victoria got married today. But she came to see me on her wedding night. She flew ten thousand miles just to spend it in my arms. She brought me a five-carat ring. How is this not our wedding night?] So that was it. That night ten years ago, Victoria had claimed there was a “corporate emergency” right after the reception. She had left in such a hurry she hadn’t even taken off her veil. My vision blurred. [She came to see me again. She brought lilies her husband grew in his garden and put them on our nightstand. Victoria, is this our version of ‘happily ever after’?] The comments were a sea of heart-eye emojis. [The way he writes about her… you can feel the soul in every word.] [First loves always win.] She told me she loved lilies. I had spent months tending to our greenhouse, hand-picking the best blooms for her to take to her office. I never imagined they were being used as decor for her trysts. I scrolled through years of his updates. Inside the ballroom, the old class was laughing and drinking. I stepped into a quiet corner and FaceTimed my best friend, Jordan. “I thought you were at the reunion with the Ice Queen?” Jordan said, his brow furrowing at my expression. “Miles, what happened?” I let out a ragged laugh. “Jordan, I’m done. I want a divorce.” Jordan slammed his fist onto a table. “Finally! Thank God. I’ll have the papers ready by morning. You’re finally coming to your senses.” “And… I’m going back,” I whispered. “I’m going back to the St. James estate.” The door to the lounge swung open. Victoria and a man named Sebastian Cole walked in, one after the other. I hung up the phone. The room went quiet for a second before a few women started giggling. “Look at that. Sebastian still has a thing for the Queen Bee.” “Can you blame him? They were the ‘it’ couple back then. No one expected Victoria to end up with someone as… unremarkable as Miles.” Victoria walked over and sat beside me. Noticing my red eyes, she reached out and cupped my face with practiced concern. “What’s wrong, honey? Did someone say something to you?” I thought of the “picking on” I had just heard in the stairwell. My heart felt like it was being shredded. “Victoria,” I said quietly. “Do you remember The Dying Star?” She stiffened. Her eyes instinctively darted toward Sebastian. “It’s in the family vault, Miles. It’s too special to wear out. Why are you bringing that up now?” “I designed it specifically for you,” I said. “It’s a brooch. I’ve never once seen you wear it.” Her smile faltered. She looked away, smoothing her skirt. “You know I don’t like flashy things. It’s too loud for my style.” “Besides,” she added, “it’s your masterpiece. It belongs in a safe where it can be preserved forever.” Not your style? Then why was it pinned to her lapel in the photos Sebastian posted on his profile? In our home, Victoria’s wardrobe was a desert of black, white, and grey. But on Sebastian’s feed, she wore vibrant colors. She went deep-sea fishing with him, caught crabs, and stayed out until dawn laughing under the sun. Victoria and I had traveled together exactly once. Our honeymoon. It had been a miserable, lonely month. “Do you remember,” I asked softly, “when I asked to go see the Northern Lights for our honeymoon?” Sebastian, who was clinking glasses with a guy next to me, suddenly slid into the seat across from us. “Did you guys go to see the Aurora? What a coincidence! I went with my girlfriend too!” “She chartered a private yacht. We huddled together on the deck under the lights. It was the most romantic thing I’ve ever experienced.” I forced a smile. “What a shame. We never went.” “My wife said she hates the cold. Said high latitudes were depressing.” Sebastian’s eyes locked onto Victoria, his grin widening. “That’s too bad. You really should go. Legend says couples who see the lights together stay together forever.” “My girl is terrified of the cold too, but the second I told her about the legend, she was the one who planned the whole itinerary.” “She took care of everything—the food, the drinks, the gear. Me? I’m lazy. I like the fun, but I hate the logistics.” The men around us cheered. “Man, your girl sounds like a saint.” “How do you get this lucky, Sebastian? When is it my turn?” Sebastian’s cheeks were flushed with wine and triumph. “I’ve got a weak constitution,” he bragged. “I get sick easily, so she had every possible medication ready for me. If I even leaned too close to the railing, she’d grab me, terrified I’d fall in.” The table erupted in laughter. “But I’m stubborn,” he continued, glancing at Victoria. “I wanted to see the ocean. So she just kept one arm around me the whole time while she took photos with the other. She’s clingy like that.” Beside me, Victoria looked down and chuckled softly. I remembered our honeymoon. She spent every day on “conference calls.” We barely spent two hours together. When I wanted to take a photo, she said she wasn’t good with cameras. When I wanted to walk on the beach, she said the tide was dangerous. Our one-month honeymoon ended ten days early. I ended up in a hospital with acute gastritis from a bad meal, lying in a sterile bed for a week. She told me she had an “emergency board meeting” and flew home two days before I was even discharged. A few classmates noticed the tension and shouted, “Sebastian, you were the star of the school. How did we not know you were seeing someone?” “Come on, spill. How did you two meet?” Victoria leaned back against the leather booth, casually draping an arm over my shoulder, watching Sebastian with an indulgent smile. Sebastian twirled a strand of his hair. “We’ve known each other forever. Longer than I’ve known any of you.” “She was my first love. We’ve had our ups and downs, but we always find our way back.” Ooh— The crowd started whistling and catcalling. Several meaningful glances were thrown Victoria’s way. People started sizing me up, whispering. “His first love? That’s definitely Victoria.” “Miles wasn’t even in our social circle back then. Marrying her was the ultimate social climb.” “He’s nothing compared to Sebastian. Sebastian has the pedigree. He actually fits her world.” I thought about the year I spent carving The Dying Star. My mother had given me a raw blue diamond. I spent months in the studio, my hands covered in nicks and cuts. That brooch was literally stained with my blood. And she had handed it to a charlatan so he could play the part of a tortured artist. I shrugged Victoria’s arm off my shoulder and stood up. “I don’t feel well. I’m going home.” Victoria reached for my hand. “Honey, I’ll drive you.” Sebastian pulled her back by the arm. “Don’t go yet, Victoria. Let Miles take an Uber. He’s a big boy; he won’t get lost.” Someone else chimed in, “Yeah, we missed you, Vic! Sit down, let’s catch up properly.” Victoria looked at me with a performative sigh of helplessness. “Fine. Be careful on the way home, Miles.” The second I got into the car, I sent her a text: Victoria, I want a divorce.

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