Category: English

My dad was a “conqueror.” After successfully completing his mission, he left this world, leaving me with four mothers. My first mom, Evelyn Bennett, was a CEO, rich beyond measure. My second mom, Lillian Croft, was a famous movie star. My third mom, Dr. Bella Reed, was a brilliant physician, and my fourth mom, General Maya Sterling, held significant power. These four mothers doted on me for sixteen years, giving me the stars and not denying me the moon. Until three years ago, when their former “white moonlight,” Adam Grayson, the son of their first love, returned. From that day on, my four mothers only believed him, not me. He accused me of calling him dirtier than a dog and unworthy of living in our home, so my mothers made me eat dog food and sleep in a dog kennel. He claimed I had bullied him with classmates at school, so my mothers withdrew me, then hired three thugs to beat me at home for three months. After Adam again claimed I pushed him, my mothers locked me in the dog cage and starved me for three days and three nights, telling me to “learn my lesson.” As I was close to starving, I heard my father’s voice. “Alexander, do you want to come back to Dad?” … I instantly snapped awake. Then I realized it wasn’t Dad speaking to me, but the System. It said that when Dad left, he’d left me a chance. If I wished, I could go to Dad’s world. Of course, I wanted to. But the words caught in my throat. I asked the System, “Will returning to Dad be better than now? If he loved me, why didn’t he take me with him in the first place?” The System told me that Dad took on this mission because Grandma was very ill, and he wanted to save her. In his own world, he was just a sophomore in college. Saving Grandma had drained all his savings, and his family was in debt. At the time, my four mothers promised that no matter whose child I was, they would treat me as their own, only asking Dad to leave them a memento. A parent’s love for their child extends to planning for their distant future. Dad didn’t want me to suffer with him, so he left me here. “Alexander.” The System’s voice was gentle, as if stroking me. “Your father has been waiting for you all these years. He hasn’t found a girlfriend, hasn’t married. He bought a small house and has been waiting for you. Do you want to go find him?” I nodded. The System sighed in relief. It said that as soon as my current body died, I could see Dad. Hearing this, I took off my clothes and tied them into a knot on the cage. I’d seen it on TV: if you put your head through, your body’s weight would cause death. Luckily, the dog cage was big enough, and I was short enough. After putting my head through the loop, a suffocating sensation quickly spread around my neck. My consciousness gradually blurred, but I felt happy. I would see Dad soon. But before I could even be happy for a few seconds, I heard someone call my name. The dog cage was opened, and I was rescued. After regaining my breath, I looked up, meeting a pair of panicked eyes. “Mommy Bennett.” The name slipped out almost instinctively. Soon, I regretted it. Because when Evelyn heard it, the panic in her eyes was replaced by disgust. “Don’t call me that. You don’t deserve it!” Evelyn was my CEO mom. Of the four mothers, she doted on me the most. Our eyes were very similar. All these years, I lived in Evelyn’s villa. Whatever I wanted, she would buy for me. She had said that even if it was the stars in the sky, if I wanted them, she would pluck them down for me. However, that doting love ended three years ago. Evelyn brought Adam Grayson back from abroad. It was then I learned that, besides my father, the four of them had a “white moonlight” in their past. That “white moonlight” had betrayed the four of them, gotten a large sum of money, and then left the country. It was Dad who appeared and redeemed them, helping them slowly recover from that betrayal. Later, the “white moonlight” was dying abroad, called Evelyn to apologize, and begged her to adopt Adam. The four mothers told me Adam was a little younger than me and asked me to be accommodating. I genuinely treated him as a younger brother. But from the very beginning, Adam wanted to steal all my mothers’ affection. He would mysteriously appear with injuries, claiming I had hit him. He would suddenly tumble down the stairs, saying I had pushed him. As his accusations of my harming him increased, my mothers grew more and more disappointed in me. Until that time Adam was cornered in an alley by a dozen thugs and almost beaten to death. When those thugs were caught, they all claimed I had ordered them. I had no way to defend myself. From that day on, I became the family’s villain. My four mothers forbade me from calling them “Mom.” I also moved from the children’s room to the dog cage. All the servants called me a murderer. Being beaten, scolded, and starved became a daily occurrence. Thinking of this, I quickly lowered my head and apologized, “I’m sorry, Ms. Th… Ms. Bennett.” Even so, Evelyn remained relentless. “Alexander Davies, what are you trying to do? Attempting suicide? Deliberately trying to attract our attention?” “But aren’t you too stupid? Staging a suicide here? This place stinks so much, even if your body rotted, no one would find it.” So she thought I was putting on an act. I didn’t argue with her, only asked, bewildered, “Ms. Bennett, why are you here? Aren’t you the most particular about cleanliness?” Evelyn frowned. “This is my home. I can go wherever I please. I came here to warn you: today is Adam’s birthday. Don’t cause him any trouble. At the very least, you cannot die here.” I nodded obediently. So she saved me because she didn’t want me to die in the villa and spoil Adam’s day. Then I’d just die somewhere else. After Evelyn left the dog kennel, I also left the Bennett family villa. I bought a bottle of pesticide and went to Dad’s old place. I lay on the bed, holding Dad’s photo, and was about to drink the pesticide when I paused again. If I just died like this and was discovered, it would definitely cause trouble for the police officers. So I wrote a suicide note, telling everyone I took my own life. The pesticide tasted bitter, burning like fire from my tongue to my stomach. I quickly lost consciousness. Dad, I’m coming! After I don’t know how long, I felt my stomach churning. After throwing up, I woke up feeling wretched. Seeing a different ceiling, I joyfully sat up. Before the word “Dad” could leave my lips, I met Dr. Reed’s eyes. Dr. Reed stood before me in a white lab coat, clutching my suicide note. Her fingertips trembled slightly from the force. Finally, she threw the letter at my face. “Alexander Davies, you truly have a knack for drama, even resorting to death to demand our attention.” “And you couldn’t even die somewhere far away. Why choose there? You dirtied your father’s house, do you know that?” I was bewildered by Dr. Reed’s shouting. Actually, among the four mothers, Dr. Bella Reed, the physician, was my favorite. She was a medical expert, proficient in both traditional and Western medicine. On weekdays, she would always teach me medical knowledge and acupuncture. She was gentle and interesting, spending the most time with me. I once believed she was my biological mother. Even when Adam first appeared, she didn’t pay him excessive attention like the other three mothers. Instead, she told me, “Alexander, you are Mommy Bella’s only son. No one’s appearance can shake your position.” Until that day when Adam suddenly fainted in public. Dr. Reed pulled an acupuncture needle from the back of his head. Just as she asked Adam what had happened, Adam suddenly knelt before me. “Brother, I was wrong. I didn’t tell Mommy Bella about this. She found out herself. Please, stab me again.” That was the first time I saw Dr. Reed furious. She looked at me with immense disappointment and said, “Alexander Davies, I taught you these things to save people, not to kill!” No matter what I said, she wouldn’t believe me. Because in the entire family, besides her, only I could insert that needle there. “Bella, calm down.” It was then I noticed Evelyn was also in the hospital room, her face grim. “Alexander Davies seems to be having mental problems. He tried to kill himself at home, then drank pesticide at Shen Hao’s place. I suspect…” Dr. Reed interrupted her. “Evelyn, are you going soft? Have you forgotten how good he is at acting?” “He’s so greedy for wealth, how could he possibly bear to leave us four? He’s merely making a scene for attention because he knows it’s Adam’s birthday today.” Hearing her words, Evelyn’s doubts gradually faded. “You’re right.” Just then, both their phones rang simultaneously. They took them out and checked them. “Mommy Bennett, Mommy Bella, when are you coming home? The other two mothers are already waiting at home.” “It’s my coming-of-age party today! If you don’t come back soon, I’ll be angry.” Adam’s childish voice echoed in the room. Both mothers’ faces simultaneously broke into smiles. They carefully held their phones, sending voice messages to Adam, coaxing him. This scene was very familiar. Once upon a time, they used to coax me the same way. It seemed my mothers hadn’t changed as people, but their hearts had. Amidst their constant “sweetie pie” endearments, my heart grew cold, and I moved towards the window. I was afraid of pain, so I always thought of gentler ways to die. But now I couldn’t wait any longer. So, in front of both of them, I climbed over the windowsill and jumped. Goodbye! My two mothers. The imagined pain didn’t materialize. I was caught by a tree outside. When I was rescued, Dr. Reed, her face ashen, came up and slapped me. “Alexander Davies, are you ever going to stop?!” Evelyn’s face wasn’t much better. Her whole body trembled as she also kicked me. “Alexander Davies, what exactly do you want?” I was kicked to the ground. Having just had my stomach pumped, and then this kick, the spot felt like someone was poking a knife into it and then twisting it vigorously. A putrid smell surged from my stomach into my mouth. After spitting out that mouthful of blood, I knelt before both of them. “Ms. Bennett, Dr. Reed, please don’t bother with me anymore. Just let me die.” My words left them both stunned. Evelyn frowned, “Is this your new trick? Blackmailing us with death?” “No.” I told them, my eyes red. “I met Dad’s system. It said that if I die, I can go to Dad. Please, just leave me alone, let me die.” “That way, you won’t have to worry about me competing with Adam for your affection, and you won’t have to keep me locked up to guard against me.”

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At our high school reunion, the guy I secretly crushed on for three years, Liam, actually showed up. From the beginning to the end of the night, we didn’t exchange a single word. That was, until the party broke up, and I was the only one left to drag his drunk self back to his hotel room. Inside, I stared at him passed out on the bed, waging a violent internal war against my most earthly desires, and eventually managed to keep my hands to myself. I never expected him to show up at my front door the very next morning, looking deeply wronged as he asked: “How did you hold back?” I stared at him, completely bewildered. “Weren’t you blackout drunk?” He took a step closer. “I was drunk.” “I was faking it.” “But you… you stared at me for so long, and then you just left me there and went home.” 1 This class reunion was organized by our class president right before the holidays. Everyone was RSVPing in the group chat when our old sports captain suddenly tagged Liam. [Is Liam coming?] [Whoa! If Liam comes, Chloe will definitely be there, right?!] [Omg yes! My favorite high school ship is finally reuniting!] Scrolling through the messages, a bitter, sour feeling settled in my chest. Chloe was our school’s ‘It Girl’—radiant, beautiful, and from a wealthy family. Standing next to Liam, they really did look like a perfect match. As for me? The most interaction I ever got with Liam was when the teacher read out the test scores, and he’d throw a teasing comment my way: “Our class rep really is built different.” My crush was a secret I intended to take to my grave. I didn’t even have the courage to hold a normal conversation with him. I was terrified that a single look would give me away. After a long pause, Liam finally replied to the chat with a simple [1]. I privately messaged the class president to RSVP as well. The night of the reunion, I was sitting in a corner, chatting with some old friends about college life. Suddenly, Liam pushed the private room door open, with Chloe following closely behind him. The whole class erupted into cheers. “Liam and Chloe look so good together!” “I knew the only one who could tame Liam was Chloe!” Chloe smiled shyly, rolling her eyes playfully at the cheering crowd. “Alright guys, keep it down.” But Liam’s face suddenly turned ice cold. “Don’t talk nonsense.” He pushed through the crowd and walked straight over, sitting down right next to me. The room instantly went dead silent. Every single pair of eyes snapped toward us. I stiffened my neck, turned my head, and met Liam’s pitch-black eyes. “Long time no see, Class Rep.” I instantly chickened out. I just nodded at him, considering that a greeting. He was tall with incredibly long legs, and to avoid accidentally touching him, I shimmied closer to the wall. Liam shot me a sideways glance but didn’t say anything. My friend Jenna, sitting on my other side, frantically texted me. [Holy crap, why did Liam sit next to you? Since when are you guys this close?!] [I have no idea! Is it because I’m wearing a black jacket today and he literally didn’t see me sitting here?] […He’s not legally blind. But you better watch out, the look Chloe is giving you right now could literally kill you.] I sneaked a peek at Chloe. Her expression was completely thunderous. I texted Jenna back, saying I’d rather shrink into my seat and play dead than become cannon fodder in their drama. The class president quickly pulled Chloe to a seat, trying to smooth things over. Everyone started chatting again, reminiscing about high school, and the atmosphere slowly relaxed. Suddenly, Chloe walked over with her wine glass, leaned down, and smiled at me. “Sarah, do you mind swapping seats with me?” I looked up, meeting her perfectly composed, flawless smile. I was just stressing over how to escape this awkward situation! I immediately agreed: “Oh, sure, yeah, let’s swap.” I grabbed my glass of juice, ready to stand up. Suddenly, a heavy weight landed on my shoulder, pinning me down. I froze, slowly turning my head to look at the pale, long-fingered hand resting on my shoulder. Then I looked at Chloe. Oh boy, the look in her eyes was even worse now! But Liam remained completely unfazed. He lifted his heavy eyelids, shot Chloe a cold look, and said flatly: “She’s sitting here. Find somewhere else.” Cold sweat instantly broke out on my back. My first instinct was to shove Liam’s hand off me. But then I realized that if we started physically struggling, it would look even more suspicious. I decided to just play the polite bystander and let out an awkward laugh to defuse the tension: “It’s fine, I’ll swap with you. I don’t really want to sit against the wall anyway.” Liam turned his head and raised an eyebrow at me. “In high school, didn’t you always say your favorite spot was right against the wall?” The fake smile on my face instantly shattered. I had no idea what kind of game he was playing. The room went dead quiet again. Completely ignored and humiliated by him, Chloe’s eyes turned red. She choked out: “Liam, do you really have to embarrass me in front of all these people?” The air pressure around Liam dropped to freezing. He said in a low, dangerous voice: “You brought the embarrassment on yourself. She was sitting here perfectly fine. Why should she move for you?” Unable to take the humiliation, Chloe slammed her glass down on the table, turned around, and ran out of the room. But Liam didn’t move an inch. Finally, the class president sighed, stood up, and chased after her. The crowd’s gaze shifted from Liam directly onto me. I felt like I was sitting on a bed of nails. Dear God. I have literally nothing to do with this! 2 After Chloe left, Liam started drinking. Hard. To anyone watching, it looked exactly like a couple having a nasty fight. I didn’t dare speak to him, terrified of causing an even bigger misunderstanding. I just shrank back into my corner, clutching my orange juice like a lifeline. Silently counting how many glasses he was throwing back. In our three years of high school, Liam and I rarely ever sat this close to each other. He had taken off his jacket and draped it over the back of his chair. The sleeves of his white dress shirt were rolled up, revealing the lean, defined muscles of his forearms. I fought with everything I had to keep my eyes off him. But the faint, intoxicating scent of rosewater radiating from him kept drifting to my nose. It had been almost a year since I last saw him. His features had sharpened, losing the soft edges of a high school boy. He existed in that perfect space between a boy and a man, looking even more breathtaking than before. I couldn’t help it. I sneaked a tiny, quick glance at him—and crashed straight into his gaze. I immediately snapped my eyes away and violently started eating my salad. After a few seconds of silence, I heard him let out a soft, low chuckle. “Hiding again.” My heart was beating so fast I thought it was going to burst out of my chest. Thankfully, some of the guys started talking to him, breaking the suffocating tension. I absentmindedly poked at the greens in my bowl. I was starting to regret coming to see him. I knew he didn’t belong to me, yet I couldn’t stop myself from secretly pining for him, over and over again. Just as my thoughts were spiraling, a massive chicken drumstick suddenly appeared in my bowl. I looked at Liam in absolute shock. He didn’t even look at me. He just said coolly: “I used the serving chopsticks. They’re clean.” I took a deep breath, forced myself to stay calm, and managed a stiff, “Thank you.” But inside, I was screaming— Is this about the chopsticks?! Since when are we close enough to serve each other food?! Luckily, no one knew about my secret crush on him, so everyone just assumed I was awkwardly caught in the crossfire. Even Jenna texted me: [Looks like our favorite ship has officially sunk. Sarah, I feel so bad for you, but I can’t save you. Just eat your food and stay quiet.] I replied with a single smiley face emoji. Expressing my absolute speechlessness. Liam seemed determined to drink himself into a coma tonight. He barely spoke another word, and his eyes didn’t drift my way again. Everyone read the room. Seeing that the night had run its course, they all started making excuses to leave. I wanted to leave too. But Liam was leaning lazily back in his chair, his eyes closed, his incredibly long legs stretched out, completely blocking my only exit. I called his name softly. “Liam? Could you move a little?” No response. I tugged lightly on the edge of his shirt. “Liam?” Still nothing. Looks like he was genuinely blackout drunk. I signaled Jenna for help. “Jenna, wait for me, let’s leave together.” But just as she started walking toward me, Liam’s eyes snapped open, and he shot her a freezing, lethal glare. Jenna froze in her tracks, laughing awkwardly: “Uh, Sarah, why don’t you do the honors and get him home?” I didn’t even get a chance to object. Liam let out a low “Mm,” turned to look at me, and said with perfect, slurred politeness: “Sorry to trouble you, Class Rep.” Me: “…No trouble at all.” 3 I booked a room at the nearest hotel and asked him if he could still walk. He gripped the edge of the table to stand up, but immediately stumbled. I frantically reached out and caught him. The sudden, close physical contact sent my heart into overdrive. I wanted to let go, but I was terrified he would crack his head open on the floor. “How about I ask a waiter to help you to the hotel?” Liam instantly stood up straight, his brows furrowing deeply. “No. I don’t like other people touching me.” He grabbed his jacket off the chair and looked back at me. “Let’s go. Didn’t you say you were walking me back?” With that, he started walking toward the door on his own. I stared at his back, completely bewildered. Is he actually drunk or not? I sighed heavily and jogged after him. “Liam, wait a second, let me call an Uber.” “Is it far?” “Not really, but—” “Then let’s walk. I’m dizzy. I don’t want to sit in a car.” I looked at his pale face and tightly knit brows. He definitely didn’t look well. Maybe getting some fresh air would help clear his head. For the entire walk, I quietly trailed behind him. The only sound was my Google Maps navigation telling us which traffic light to turn at. Suddenly, Liam stopped dead in his tracks. I wasn’t paying attention and almost slammed right into his back. Thank god for my quick reflexes; the tip of my nose barely brushed against his wool coat. “What’s wrong? Are you going to throw up? Should I run into a pharmacy and get you some hangover meds?” Whenever my dad drank too much, my mom always made him an herbal hangover drink, and it always settled his stomach. There happened to be a 24-hour pharmacy right across the street. I pointed at it. “You stay right here. Don’t wander off, I’ll be right back—” Liam suddenly grabbed my wrist, yanked me backward, and pulled me solidly into his arms. My entire body froze. I forgot how to breathe. The hug I had only ever dared to imagine in my wildest dreams was actually happening. But I was completely sober. And I knew this was wrong. I tried to push him away, but he only held me tighter. If anyone from school saw us like this, I would never be able to explain it! My voice was trembling when I called his name. “Liam—” He buried his face in the crook of my neck, his voice incredibly hoarse and low: “Please don’t go, okay?” “I didn’t do anything to make you mad. Stop hiding from me.” 4 Liam was definitely blackout drunk. He was mistaking me for Chloe, and spouting a bunch of easily misunderstood nonsense. I didn’t want to get into a wrestling match with him in the middle of the street. So, I had to treat him like a toddler. “I’m not going anywhere, I’m taking you to bed. Be good, let go of me first, okay?” He let out an obedient “Mm,” released the hug, and immediately grabbed my hand instead. And then he looked at me with those huge, wet, puppy-dog eyes. Thank god my psychological fortitude was strong and my moral compass was high. For the next two blocks, my palms were sweating from how tightly he was gripping my hand. I stepped on his shadow, muttering under my breath: “If you’re this clingy, why the hell were you fighting with her in the first place? You brought this on yourself!” When we finally made it to the hotel room and the door clicked shut behind us, his legs gave out completely. He dragged me down onto the bed with him. His hot breath fanned against my ear, the intoxicating scent of alcohol and rosewater completely overwhelming my senses. All I had to do was turn my head an inch, and my lips would touch his. Who could possibly resist this kind of temptation?! Me, that’s who! Even though I really wanted to. I couldn’t. He was just drunk, not dead. Taking advantage of him while he was blackout drunk was highly immoral. I violently suppressed the massive wave of dirty thoughts in my brain and shoved him off me. Liam lay flat on his back. The alcohol was probably making him thirsty, because he restlessly shifted and ran his tongue over his dry lips. Dear God. If I looked at him for one more second, I was going to get a nosebleed. I frantically unscrewed a bottle of water and brought it to his lips. He swallowed instinctively, his Adam’s apple bobbing. The pale skin of his neck was flushed red from the alcohol, the color spreading all the way to the tips of his ears. …This was getting out of hand. Truly. I squeezed my eyes shut, and my hand jerked. The cool water spilled past his lips, soaking a dark patch into the hotel sheets. I mentally slapped myself in the face. I muttered a curse at myself. “You absolute animal!” I kept my eyes locked on the ceiling. I aggressively yanked the duvet over him, tucking him in like a burrito, and finally managed to calm down. Staring at Liam’s sleeping face, his brows still furrowed in discomfort, I gave myself a mental thumbs-up. Great job, Sarah. You didn’t sexually assault him while he was vulnerable. This was the boy I had loved for three years. He belonged in my dreams. He shouldn’t actually be a part of my real life. The doorbell rang. The hangover medicine I ordered had arrived. I placed the meds, a box of tissues, and a fresh bottle of water on the nightstand. I gave him a little wave and whispered my goodbyes. “Goodbye, Liam! Don’t drink this much ever again. Boys need to be careful when they’re out alone at night.” 5 It was incredibly late by the time I got home, but I wasn’t tired at all. Jenna was still awake, eager to gossip. [Sarah, did you hear? The class president said when he finally caught up to Chloe, she was crying so hard it was pathetic.] [She said she had a little argument with Liam, and it made him furious.] That made sense to me. For three years of high school, they were practically joined at the hip. Their families were both incredibly wealthy and well-connected, so even the teachers turned a blind eye to them. Thinking about that mistaken hug tonight… I felt even more ashamed. My crush was something I couldn’t control, but the only thing I could control was my own actions. I wouldn’t cause trouble for him. And I wouldn’t humiliate myself. I scrolled through my phone, feeling completely miserable, until I finally tossed it aside and forced myself to sleep. Early the next morning, my doorbell rang. At this hour, my parents had already left for work. Logically, no one should be visiting. But the doorbell kept ringing persistently, like whoever it was had an emergency. I threw on my fluffy robe and went to open the door. When I saw the person standing outside, my jaw dropped. “Liam?! What are you doing here? The hotel room I booked for you doesn’t check out until 2 PM!” “That’s not important.” I was completely baffled. I couldn’t think of a single reason why he would be at my front door. He took a step closer and said in a low voice: “I came to pay you back for the hotel room.” I let out a huge sigh of relief. “Oh, you could have just Venmo’d me! You didn’t have to come all the way here—” “But you never gave me your number.” “…I’ll give it to you right now!” After we exchanged contacts, he didn’t immediately send the money. Instead, he stood in the doorway, rubbing his arms, his voice sounding incredibly pathetic. “Class Rep, I’m so cold. Aren’t you going to invite me inside?” I snapped out of my daze and realized he wasn’t wearing the heavy wool coat from last night. He was only wearing a thin black hoodie and jeans. He looked amazing, but he was definitely freezing. I looked down at myself. I was wearing a massive, fluffy, bear-eared pajama onesie. Warm, yes. But incredibly childish! I couldn’t bear to watch him freeze, so I stepped aside to let him in. “Come on in and sit down.” The second the door closed, I instantly regretted it. A boy and a girl, alone in a house. He was completely sober, and I was completely sober. He was a living, breathing human standing in my living room, and he was staring right at me. I didn’t know what to do with my hands or feet. I ran around like a headless chicken, turning up the thermostat, pulling out chips, sunflower seeds, and a bowl of fresh cherries. “Have a snack first, I’ll go grab you a glass of milk.” He suddenly grabbed my hand. “Stop running around. I’m not hungry.” His freezing fingertips sent a shiver through me. He immediately let go. “Just sit with me for a minute.” I sat down rigidly, my hands placed perfectly on my knees like an obedient school child. It was way too quiet. I was starting to panic. After a long pause, Liam broke the silence. “Why did you leave me there last night?” “…I didn’t leave you! You were blackout drunk. I took you to the hotel, made sure you were asleep, and then went home.” Liam’s clear, dark eyes stared directly into mine. “I was drunk. But I faked passing out.” He drank at least six or seven bottles of beer last night. He was drunk as a skunk, and he even thought I was Chloe! And now he was sitting in my living room trying to claim he faked it?! I reasonably deduced he was just trying to save face. I gave a dry laugh, offering him an out. “Oh, totally, totally! I could tell you handle your liquor really well! You weren’t messy at all!” Liam stared at me, looking deeply frustrated, like he was looking at an absolute idiot. “If I didn’t pretend to pass out, with how terrified you are of me, when would you have ever dared to come near me?” “I was literally lying there totally helpless last night. You could have done whatever you wanted to me.” “And what did you do? You tucked me in and ran away.” I froze completely. Wait, did he figure something out?! I thought I hid my crush perfectly! Liam stood up, taking a step toward me, and slowly opened his arms. “You absolute coward. Can I get a hug?” “I’m dying of a broken heart over here.” 6 Liam reached out and pulled me into a gentle hug. My nose was filled with the faint, elegant scent of roses. It was so intoxicating I felt myself melting into it. The living room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. I couldn’t tell if the deafening, hammering heartbeat I was hearing was his, or mine. Was he actually sober right now? If he was, why was he hugging me? I absolutely refused to be his temporary rebound after a bad breakup. And I refused to take advantage of him while he was heartbroken and vulnerable. I forced my rational brain to reboot and pushed him away. “Liam, you have a girlfriend. You cannot hug me.” “I only took you to the hotel last night because we’re classmates. Please do not misunderstand.” Liam’s entire body stiffened. He looked at me in total, absolute shock. “Since when do I have a girlfriend?” I was just as confused as he was. “You and Chloe! Weren’t you guys dating all through high school?” Liam let out a breath of pure exasperation, almost laughing. “Are you kidding me? For three years of high school, the only things I cared about were studying and playing basketball. Where the hell did you get the idea that I was dating her?” “But that’s what everyone always said—” “Sarah. You believe them over me?” Hearing him say my actual name sent a jolt of panic through my chest. I avoided his intense, burning gaze and mumbled: “I didn’t say I didn’t believe you. It’s just that everyone said it, and you never bothered to deny it…” “I made it perfectly clear to her a long time ago. I don’t like her. The only connection we have is that our parents are friends and we live in the same neighborhood.” “Whatever she does has absolutely nothing to do with me.” “But you, on the other hand. You absolute idiot. I’ve been in love with you for three years, and you didn’t notice a single thing?!” I couldn’t believe my ears. I never thought I would hear a confession from him. Suddenly, a flood of memories hit me. Every time I had casually glanced over my shoulder in class, I had always locked eyes with Liam. But I always thought it was just a coincidence. I never dared to imagine it meant anything more. It wasn’t until Liam gently brushed his fingers against my hand that I realized I was trembling so hard I was vibrating. “Why aren’t you saying anything?” “I… I need to think about it.” The fact that he was confessing to me felt entirely surreal. I needed to calm down, re-evaluate every interaction we had ever had, and then give him an answer. Hearing that, Liam let out a soft, relieved laugh. “Okay. There’s no rush. I’ll get going then.” “So soon?” Crap. Said that out loud. I looked up, and sure enough, Liam was fighting back a massive, triumphant grin. I wanted to crawl under the sofa cushions and die. Liam reached out and affectionately ruffled my hair. “Once you finally give me a title, I’ll never leave your house.” “It’s my birthday next week. Can you come to my party?” “Yes, I’ll definitely be there.” After Liam left, I got a Venmo notification from him. The amount was astronomically higher than the cost of the hotel room. I sent him a question mark. [You sent way too much.] He replied: [Thanks for taking care of me last night.] [Can you use the extra to buy me a present?] Even if he hadn’t asked, I was going to buy him one anyway. I knew exactly when his birthday was. For the past three years, the birthday gifts I had bought for him were all locked in the bottom drawer of my desk. I just never had the courage to give them to him. He said he never dated Chloe. And he said he liked me. Compared to my terrified, hiding-in-the-shadows approach, his absolute, unapologetic honesty gave me a surge of courage. I decided that on his birthday, I was going to officially confess my feelings. 7 On the day of Liam’s birthday, he was waiting outside my apartment building bright and early. He was even holding a bouquet of flowers. But he never told me he was coming to pick me up! Seeing him step out of his car and walk toward me, I quickly jogged over, a huge smile breaking across my face. “What are you doing here?” “It’s a long drive. I wanted to pick you up.” He glanced down at my dress, and his brows immediately furrowed. “It’s too cold. Get in the car.” The joy I had just felt instantly dissolved into panic. Usually, I dressed like a complete tomboy. Today, I specifically bought a brand new outfit and even put on a little makeup. The skirt ended right above my knees, and even with fleece-lined tights, the winter wind was cutting straight to my bones. Liam always looked so effortlessly cool and athletic. I just didn’t want to look like a complete slob standing next to him. “Do you not like it?” “What are you talking about?” “The dress looks amazing on you. But I don’t want you to freeze to death. Get in.” A warm, fluttery feeling bloomed in my chest. I whispered, “I’m not cold.” Liam leaned over the center console and gently buckled my seatbelt for me. Then he placed the bouquet of flowers onto my lap. I looked at him in total confusion. “Today is your birthday, why are you giving me flowers?” “I was worried you forgot to buy me a present, so I brought these. When we get to the party, just tell everyone you bought them for me.” I immediately felt embarrassed. “I can’t do that! Besides, I did buy you a present!” I pulled a small velvet box out of my purse and handed it to him. Liam opened it right then and there. His eyes lit up. “A bracelet? It’s beautiful. I love it.” He immediately slipped it onto his wrist. He turned to me, shook his wrist to show it off, a brilliant, genuine smile spreading across his face. “Thank you. Getting two presents today makes me really happy.” “You’re welcome. As long as you like it.” Seeing you happy makes me happy.

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After I became paralyzed from the waist down, I thought about ending it all. Many times. Until my friends showed up. “Harper, come out and shoot some hoops.” I stared at them blankly, looking down at my wheelchair. I pointed out that playing basketball was going to be a bit difficult for me right now. They had a stroke of genius: “Then you can fetch the ball for us.” When we went shopping, they bought new clothes and boba tea. Whenever their hands got full, they just dumped everything onto my lap. I rolled behind them, my numb legs buried under a mountain of girls’ accessories and shopping bags. Every now and then, they would turn around and spoon-feed me a bite of ice cream. They would run laps around my wheelchair, laughing and shoving each other. In that moment. I found a reason to stay alive. 1 The summer I turned sixteen. I became paralyzed. But, they would say: “Harper, you’ve got this.” “Harper, let’s go out.” “Harper, you’d look so good in a dress. Hold on, we’re putting one on you.” “Harper, let me sit in your wheelchair for a sec, my feet are killing me.” “Harper, want to run a marathon with us? We’ll give you a three-minute head start.” “Harper, we’re best friends for life.” …… Early morning. I had been sitting out on the balcony all night again. My mom pushed the door open. First, she sighed. Then she started making my bed. As she straightened the sheets, she couldn’t help but sob softly. Irritated, I snapped at her: “If you’re going to cry, go cry outside.” The second the words left my mouth, I regretted them. But before I could apologize, a half-eaten apple was thrown into the living room from the hallway. Followed by a furious roar. “That is your mother.” “Watch how you speak to her!” “We didn’t cause your condition, so what gives you the right to take it out on us?” As my dad’s words echoed, the apple rolled across the floor and hit my foot. I couldn’t bend down to pick it up. I just watched it roll underneath my wheelchair. A million thoughts raced through my head. I hated myself for not even being able to do something so simple. My mom looked at me with wet eyes, then walked over. She practiced the motion: squatting, then dropping to her knees. She reached her arm under my wheelchair, feeling around blindly. Her face flushed red from the exertion. Finally, she retrieved the apple. She looked up at me with a goofy, exhausting smile. Her thin lips were pale and chapped. She looked unkempt. “Harper, Mom made some chicken noodle soup. Do you want to try a little?” I stayed stubbornly silent, looking away in disgust at her messy appearance. Before I got sick, she never looked like this. She used to wear beautiful dresses and pearl jewelry. She dressed more stylishly than I did; people used to mistake us for sisters. How did my illness end up ruining her life, too? I thought about the bony spine protruding from her back when she bent over to grab the apple. Her little tummy and double chin were completely gone. In just two years, she had withered into an emaciated, unkempt woman with half a head of gray hair. It wasn’t fair. I didn’t want to be the villain of this family. But I had no choice. I was the villain. Because of my recklessness, this family had been reduced to this. And yet, I refused to act my age. I always used violent, icy emotions to mask my deep-seated shame. I threw tantrums, blaming my mom, blaming my dad, blaming the car crash. But deep down, the person I hated most was myself. Perhaps sensing my quiet despair, my mom gently patted my head. I just kept my head down, and in a very, very small voice. I said, “I’m sorry.” 2 During dinner, the house phone suddenly rang. My mom put down her fork and ran to answer it. “Hello? Hi!” “You’re looking for Harper? Sure.” “Harper is home, come on over.” She walked back to the table, chewing on a piece of leftover toast from yesterday. “Harper, that was Chloe and Zoe. They said they’re downstairs and they want to take you out shopping.” My mom’s tone was incredibly cautious, as if terrified I would throw another tantrum. And of course, I did. I screamed at her: “Shopping? You want me, a paraplegic, to go shopping with them?” “You want me to sit there and watch them walk around in their pretty dresses with their perfectly working legs?” “Did you even consider how I would feel?” “Are you even my mother?” My mom’s face went sheet white. She looked at me in a panic and quickly crouched down to soothe me. “No, sweetheart, Mom didn’t mean it like that.” “They were your best friends. I just thought you’d want to see them.” “It’s okay, if you don’t want to see them, you don’t have to. Mom will go call them and tell them to go home.” I turned my face away, ignoring her. Suddenly, a heavy fist slammed onto the dining table. “Harper Davis!” “Are you ever going to stop?” “This entire family has quit jobs and fallen ill just to take care of you.” “We haven’t had a single good day.” “What? Are you the only person in the whole world who doesn’t have legs?” “Why is it that everyone else can find a way to move on, but you insist on wallowing in misery?” “It’s been two years. How long are you going to keep doing this?” “If you act like this, how can your mother ever rest easy… how can she…” He seemed to realize something, cutting his sentence short and falling silent. I continued to pretend I couldn’t hear him, biting down hard on the tip of my tongue to swallow the surge of anger. My mom was terrified. She rushed over and pried my jaw open with her bare hands. “Okay, okay, we won’t force you anymore.” “Be a good girl, Harper. If you don’t want to go out, we won’t go out.” “Whenever you feel ready, then we’ll take you…” Before she could finish, there was a knock on our front door. Followed by a chorus of long-lost, giggling voices. “Harper! Open the door, I really have to pee!” “Harper, we heard you were depressed, so the girls are here to cheer you up.” “Harper, we brought your favorite boba, but there’s only half left because haha, I drank the other half.” Hearing their voices, a completely indescribable feeling washed over me. It was complicated. But there was also a strange, undeniable spark of joy. 3 Chloe and Zoe were my absolute best friends from elementary through middle school. But after my parents and I moved out of state, we lost touch. They didn’t even know about the accident during my sophomore year of high school. According to my mom, they both ended up going to college in this city. They ran into my mom by chance and finally learned what had happened to me. So they immediately came to see me. I figured, let them look. This is what I am now anyway. This is what the rest of my life is going to be. I took a deep breath and spun my chair around. I braced myself for their pitiful, sympathetic, teary-eyed gazes. But surprisingly, none of that happened. Chloe said: “Harper, how is your skin so clear? You’re so pale.” Zoe said: “Oh my god, you’re so skinny! You’d look amazing in a dress.” I froze for a second. I looked at them. And then, for some inexplicable reason, I smiled. And I mocked myself. “Lock yourself in a house for two years and you’ll get pale and skinny, too.” But I felt a little happy. I don’t know why. They didn’t seem to look at me like a disabled person. It was just like the old days. They still wanted to compare everything with me. Comparing whose nose looked better. Comparing whose butt was perkier. Comparing who could catch the attention of the senior boys. At least they weren’t here to pity me. And I didn’t have to pretend everything was fine. I didn’t have to put on a brave face just to comfort them. 4 After eating, driven by pure curiosity. They fought over who got to push me downstairs. To the point where they almost flipped me out of the wheelchair. It wasn’t until I literally crashed into the elevator doors and got my head trapped between them. That they finally panicked. They hurriedly wrestled me back into the seat. They weren’t very strong, so they ended up grabbing my arms, chasing the rolling wheelchair all the way down the hallway. After a few minutes of chaos. The three of us just burst out laughing for no reason. It was, admittedly, a ridiculous scene. Once they safely secured me in the wheelchair, they stopped fighting over who got to push. Instead, they stood on either side of me, pulled out their compact mirrors, and seriously started fixing their hair and makeup. They didn’t forget to roll my pant legs back down for me, either. I was just about to ask what the occasion was. When I looked up and saw the older boy from next door. He walked toward us with a big smile, deep dimples on his cheeks. He was over six feet tall, spinning a basketball on his finger. He asked politely. “Harper, are you girls heading out?” I nodded. He smiled politely again. “I’m heading to the courts to shoot some hoops. If you guys are bored, you can come watch.” “We’re going shopping, maybe another time…” But before I could finish, I was aggressively interrupted. “No another time! Today is perfect!” “Which court are you playing at? We’ll bring you water!” …… And just like that. My lap was piled high with Gatorade. They pushed me along, treating me like a glorified grocery cart. Handing out water to everyone, flipping their hair, striking poses. Whenever they spotted a cute guy, they decided I was in the way. And shoved me to the sidelines. Telling me to go chill in the shade. When it was all over. I accidentally saw the keychains dangling from their backpacks. “Harper is my best friend.” 5 I am their best friend. My only friends are Chloe and Zoe. I don’t want to be friends with anyone else. 6 That night, they brought me home. They each demolished two massive slices of pizza and collapsed onto the sofa. “Harper, what’s your Wi-Fi password?” “Harper, get down, let me sit in your wheelchair for a bit.” “Harper, grab me an apple. Oh, and some chips, too.” “Harper, you’re blocking the TV. Move over.” …… I randomly grabbed an apple and threw it at them. Pretending to be annoyed, I said: “I’m going to bed. I’m exhausted.” As soon as I said that, my mom suddenly froze. A thick mist gathered in her eyes. She said. “Harper wants to go to sleep? Mom will carry you to bed.” Then, she emotionally pushed me toward my bedroom. I knew exactly why she was reacting this way. After all, before Chloe and Zoe showed up. It had been a very long time since I naturally wanted to go to sleep. I survived solely on sleeping pills. I nodded, letting her drag my senseless body. She wasn’t a strong woman, but she was always able to lift me up all by herself. I only found out later that my mom had secretly spent months practicing lifting heavy sandbags just to be able to carry me. But today was a little strange. She seemed to be struggling to lift me. Her forehead was beaded with sweat, and her breathing was heavier than usual. I asked: “Mom, what’s wrong?” She shook her head and said: “Nothing, Mom’s hands just slipped.” “Don’t worry, Harper, Mom can definitely pick you up.” Eventually, she managed to carry me to bed. But I also saw the profound heartbreak in the eyes of the man standing behind her. Honestly, a lot of times. I couldn’t tell if my dad loved me or not. But I knew he deeply loved my mom. Isn’t it natural for a husband to love his wife? If he loved me a little less. That was fine. I didn’t need that much love.

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New Year’s Eve was supposed to be the coronation of my new life. I’d just landed an associate offer at a Magic Circle law firm—the kind of place that doesn’t just pay a salary; they buy your soul and give you a golden pedestal in return. To celebrate, I’d splurged on a limited-edition Osetra caviar and white truffle tasting menu from a Michelin-starred pop-up. When I went to the lobby’s delivery rack, the bag was gone. In my previous life, I lost my head. I hunted down the girl who took it—a “struggling” scholarship student—and tore into her in the middle of the quad. That one moment of justified rage was my undoing. The university branded me a “privileged male bully,” my offer was rescinded, and I was expelled. Meanwhile, the girl played the victim so well she became the internet’s favorite “Fragile Wildflower.” I died in obscurity while she flourished on the back of my ruined reputation. But this time? This time, I watched the security footage with a calm, cold clarity. I saw her face—smug, entitled, tucked behind a mask of faux-innocence. I didn’t scream. I didn’t hunt her down. I dialed 911. By the time my advisor, Mrs. Gable, arrived at the campus security office, she looked more annoyed with me than the thief. “Cade, really? It’s a food delivery,” she sighed, checking her watch. “It’s New Year’s Eve. Why are we involving the police over a fifty-dollar bag of takeout? You’re a man; show some chivalry. This is an embarrassment to the law school. Have her write an apology letter and let’s move on.” I didn’t say a word. I reached into my coat, pulled out the digital receipt, and slid my phone across the desk. “Take a look at the itemized list, Mrs. Gable. That wasn’t a burger. It was a bespoke ‘Imperial Selection’ set with rare vintages. Total value: twenty-five thousand dollars. In this state, that’s Grand Larceny. We’re looking at a mandatory minimum of three to five years.” I turned to look at the girl, Layla, who was sitting in the corner. Her face went from “poor me” to ghostly white in a heartbeat. I smiled. “An apology letter? Save your writing skills for your parole board.” … Layla’s legs gave out. She collapsed onto the linoleum floor, the mask of the misunderstood waif shattering into shards of pure terror. “Twenty-five thousand? That’s… that’s impossible! Nobody spends that much on a delivery!” she shrieked, her voice like a cat with its tail caught in a door. “You’re framing me! Cade, you’re trying to ruin me! Are you even a man?” “Whether it’s a frame-up or a felony is for the District Attorney to decide,” I said, adjusting my cufflinks. I didn’t even grant her a second glance. Mrs. Gable finally found her voice. She lunged for my phone, trying to snatch it. “Cade! Are you insane? Cancel the call! If this gets out, the law school’s reputation is finished. A student arrested for grand theft? Do you want the Dean to have a heart attack?” I stepped back, letting her hand swipe through empty air. My eyes were ice. “Mrs. Gable, are you familiar with ‘Accessory After the Fact’?” She froze. “You’re an advisor at a top-tier law school. You know exactly what happens when you knowingly shield a criminal from the consequences of a felony.” The office door swung open before she could respond. My fiancée, Madison, walked in. One look at Layla on the floor and me standing over them, and her brow furrowed in that practiced, “disappointed socialite” way of hers. “Cade, what is this? I could hear the shouting from the parking lot.” Layla saw Madison and crawled toward her like a drowning woman reaching for a buoy. She grabbed Madison’s designer slacks with trembling hands. “Madison! Please! He’s trying to send me to prison! I just… I took the wrong bag by mistake! He says it’s twenty-five thousand dollars! He’s trying to kill my future!” Madison looked down at the sobbing girl, then at me. Her voice was layered with that performative moral superiority she loved so much. “Twenty-five thousand for dinner, Cade? Since when did you become so pathologically wasteful?” I almost laughed. This was my “loving” fiancée. Her first instinct wasn’t to question the thief; it was to indict the victim for his lifestyle. “It’s my money, Madison. I didn’t realize I needed to submit an expense report for my own celebrations.” “Don’t be glib,” she snapped. “This is about justice.” “Justice? You haven’t even asked what happened, yet you’ve already decided who’s at fault. Is that your version of justice?” Madison blinked, stunned. I usually spent our relationship bending over backward to stay in her good graces. I never raised my voice. She helped Layla up and sighed with the weight of the world on her shoulders. “Cade, have some grace. You know Layla’s background. She’s a sophomore on a full-ride scholarship. Twenty-five thousand is an astronomical sum to her; to you, it’s the price of a watch. You’re a Whitaker. You’re going to be my husband. Can’t you find it in yourself to be the bigger person? Why are you bullying a girl over a meal?” “To destroy a young woman’s entire future over money… don’t you think that’s a bit monstrous? Where is your masculinity?” In my last life, she said the exact same thing. While the internet was calling me a “misogynistic pig,” she was the one whispering in my ear to apologize, to step down, to “be a man” and take the hit. And I did. And my reward was a life in the gutter while she moved on to the next “gentleman.” “Madison,” I said, savoring every syllable of her name. “First: theft is theft. The law doesn’t have a gender, and it doesn’t have a sliding scale for ‘intent’ when the value hits five figures. Second: if I walked into your family’s estate and walked out with your heirloom diamonds, then called it ‘just a few rocks,’ would you be ‘the bigger person’?” I stepped into her personal space, looking down into her eyes. “And third—the most important part. My money doesn’t grow on trees. Why should I subsidize her ‘poverty’ with my hard work? Just because I’m a man and she’s a girl?” I pointed at the receipt on the desk. “If you’re so overcome with saintly compassion, Madison, you pay for it. Twenty-five thousand. Wire or check?” Madison’s face turned a blotchy, humiliated red. The campus security guards and the few students lingering in the hall were staring at her now. She was the “woke” heiress, always ready to spend other people’s moral capital, but never her own. “Cade, you’re being ridiculous! This isn’t about the money. It’s about your attitude! It’s about being a gentleman!” she shrieked, her voice rising to cover her lack of an argument. “If you aren’t writing a check, shut up.” I turned away from her as the police officers finally entered the room. “Officers, I’m the complainant. Here is the receipt, the order log, and I’ve already backed up the hallway surveillance footage on this thumb drive.” The lead officer looked at the amount on the screen and his posture sharpened. “This is a serious amount of property. Miss, you’re going to need to come with us.” As the handcuffs clicked into place, Layla finally snapped. “I won’t go! I’m not a thief! Madison, help me! Mrs. Gable!” She gripped the edge of the desk, her screams echoing through the hall. “Cade, you’re evil! You hate poor people! You’re just a bully who preys on women! I hope you rot!” Mrs. Gable paced nervously, but with the police there, she didn’t dare interfere further. She just glared at me. “Cade, you’ve made a massive mistake. This isn’t over.” As they led Layla away, she looked back at me. Her eyes weren’t crying anymore; they were filled with a venomous, serpentine hatred that promised a reckoning. Madison stood there, looking at me as if I were a stranger. “You won, Cade. But you lost the only thing that mattered: your character. You aren’t the man I thought you were.” She turned and swept out of the room. I stood in the silence of the office, feeling absolutely nothing but peace. Character? Chivalry? In my last life, I gave those things to the world, and they fed them to the dogs. This time, I had a new North Star: An eye for an eye. The firestorm started faster than I expected. By the next morning, a post was trending on the university’s “Confessions” page and Twitter. It didn’t mention theft. It spoke of a “terrified scholarship student” being “humiliated and threatened with prison” over a “food mistake.” It painted me as a corporate monster using my wealth to crush a girl’s spirit. The video had been edited. It only showed the moment I coldly said “twenty-five thousand” and Madison’s “brave” stand against my “cruelty.” The captions were pure bait: [A single dinner costs more than a poor student’s entire tuition. Is this the face of the Whitaker Group?] [Another privileged ‘Trust Fund Bro’ throwing a tantrum. Hide your daughters, ladies.] My phone started vibrating. Hundreds of messages from burner accounts. Death threats. Slurs. Someone even leaked my dorm number. By noon, my door had been spray-painted with “DIE TRASH” and a bloody tampon was hung on the handle. I sat in my room, watching the comments roll in. It was a mirror of my past life, but with one difference: I wasn’t drinking myself into a stupor this time. My phone rang. It was the Matriarch. My mother, CEO of the Whitaker Group. “Cade, explain this. Our stock dropped two points this morning because of your little stunt.” “It’s a legal matter, Mother.” “I don’t care if she stole the Crown Jewels,” her voice was a whip. “You will issue a statement immediately. You will say the delivery was a gift for a student event and there was a ‘misunderstanding.’ Then you will go to the precinct and drop the charges. If you don’t, I will freeze every account in your name and strip you of your inheritance. Do you understand me?” In the face of the Whitaker brand, my dignity was less than dust. In my first life, I worshipped her approval. I folded. I apologized. And she threw me away anyway once I was no longer “useful.” “Did you hear me, Cade? Are you mute?” I gripped the phone, a slow smile spreading across my face. “I hear you, Mother. I’ll hold a live-streamed press conference tomorrow morning at ten to ‘clear the air.’” “Good. Madison’s family has been briefed. She’ll be there by your side to show a united front. Don’t mess this up.” I hung up and looked out at the city lights. A statement? Oh, I was going to give them a statement. But it wasn’t going to be an apology. The campus auditorium was packed the next morning. My mother’s PR team had already seeded the “apology” narrative online. Madison was there in an elegant white suit, looking like a modern saint. She caught me backstage. “I’m glad you’ve come to your senses, Cade,” she said, her voice dripping with condescension. “Layla has suffered enough. Just be a man, apologize gracefully, and we can move past this. Our engagement stands, provided you play your part.” She reached out to straighten my tie. I caught her wrist and shoved it away. “Don’t touch me. You’re getting your ‘Saint’ suit dirty.” Her face hardened. “Cade, what is wrong with you? I’m trying to save you!” “You’re trying to save your social standing,” I retorted. I walked out onto the stage. The flashes were blinding. The livestream viewer count hit a million within seconds. The chat was a waterfall of hate: [KILLER CADE!] [ABUSIVE RICH BOY!] I sat at the mic, calm as a dead sea. The PR director was frantically signaling me to read the teleprompter. I acted out of impulse… I misunderstood Miss Layla’s intentions… the delivery was a gift… I picked up the printed script. The room went silent. “Everyone wants the truth,” I said into the camera. “And I think it’s time we get it all out in the open.” I took the script and ripped it in half. Then I ripped it again, letting the pieces flutter to the floor like snow. I pulled a thumb drive from my pocket and plugged it into the podium’s laptop. “An apology? Not in this lifetime.” “Instead, let’s watch a short film.” The PR director turned ghost-white and lunged for the power cord, but I’d hired my own security—three massive guys who blocked the stage like a wall. “Sit down,” I barked. The authority in my voice stopped the room cold. The screen flickered to life. The chat, which had been a torrent of abuse, suddenly stuttered into silence. The screen didn’t show Layla crying over a bowl of ramen. It showed a high-resolution spreadsheet of bank statements and social media screenshots. “This is Layla,” I said, using a laser pointer. “Last month, she claimed she couldn’t afford feminine hygiene products. That same week, she sold a limited-edition designer bag on a luxury resale site for four thousand dollars.” I clicked to the next slide. “And here she is at an underground ‘Elite Club’ in the city. That’s an eight-hundred-dollar bottle of Cristal in her hand. She’s not a starving student. She’s a lifestyle influencer who ‘sources’ her luxury from ‘stupid rich boys’ like me.” The video changed. It was a clear, high-definition clip from a hidden camera in the dining hall kitchen. Layla was there, unpacking a stolen delivery bag, taking photos for her Instagram. “This sushi looks expensive,” her voice rang out clearly through the speakers. “I’ll post it and say I bought it. The simps will eat it up.” She dumped a tray of expensive sashimi into the trash after taking the photo. “God, raw fish is gross. But as long as I look like a ‘rich girl’ on TikTok, who cares? These men are so easy to play. If they catch me, I’ll just cry. They always fall for the tears.”

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My wife told me she was drowning in debt. She begged me to fake my own death so her creditors would back off. But on the day of my funeral, peering through a hairline fracture in the wood of my casket, I saw something that turned my blood to ice. My wife’s “great lost love”—the man she’d spent our entire marriage pining for—was standing at the altar. And he was wearing my face. The priest’s voice droned through the chapel, reciting the final rites for a man named Roman. My “fake” funeral had just become Roman’s very real ticket to a new life. My body went rigid. A cold, paralyzing dread seeped into my marrow. I realized then, with a clarity that shattered my heart, that Becca didn’t just want me gone. She wanted me dead. I tried to thrash, to scream, but the lid had been hammered shut with terrifying finality. My mouth was sealed tight with heavy-duty duct tape. Through the tiny gap in the wood, I saw the man with my face lean down. His eyes, usually so full of practiced sorrow, were glittering with a jagged, triumphant malice. “Glenn,” he whispered, his voice muffled by the mahogany. “Becca isn’t broke. She never was. She just needed a body to put in the ground so I could take your life.” I died in that box, clawing at the lid until my fingernails tore away, gasping for air that never came. My last moments were spent leaving bloody, desperate gouges in the wood that no one would ever see. After I was gone, he stepped into my shoes. He took my wealth, my reputation, my everything, while I was dumped in a nameless grave in the middle of nowhere. Then, I opened my eyes. I was back. It was the night before the funeral. … “What are you doing just standing there? Get in the damn casket.” Becca’s voice, sharp and impatient, cut through the silence of the room. I blinked, my vision blurring as I looked around. The black drapes, the smell of lilies cloying and heavy, the polished mahogany box resting on its trestles. It hit me like a physical blow. I was back. In my past life, Becca told me her investments had tanked. I’d liquidated every asset I had, emptied my 401(k), and sold my soul to help her, but she claimed it wasn’t enough. She convinced me to sign a debt-assumption agreement and then staged this “exit strategy.” She’d told me it was the only way to save us. In reality, it was the only way to save Roman—the man she’d never stopped loving, the man she blamed me for “ruining.” I forced myself to breathe. I swallowed the bile rising in my throat and managed a single, hollow word. “Fine.” A flicker of relief crossed Becca’s face, though her eyes remained cold, professional. “Just get used to the space,” she said, her tone clipped. “I made some soup. I’ll go get a bowl for you before we settle in for the night.” She turned and walked toward the kitchen. I didn’t lie down like a lamb to the slaughter this time. The moment she was gone, I sat up, covering my nose and mouth with my sleeve. In my first life, I thought the soup had been drugged. But as I sat there, I realized the scent was coming from inside the box. The silk lining was damp, saturated with high-grade ether. If I had stayed in there for even two minutes, I would have drifted off into that same dark sleep, never to wake up again. It was a surgical, heartless plan. I climbed out of the casket, my movements silent and frantic. I followed her toward the kitchen, staying in the shadows. I wanted to see her face. I wanted to see the mask slip. I reached the door just as a sound drifted out—a low, rhythmic moan that made my skin crawl. I peered through the crack in the door. My wife wasn’t making soup. She was wrapped in the arms of the man who was supposed to be in hiding. “Becca, babe,” Roman whispered, his hands roaming over her with a possessive heat. “Is that loser in the box yet?” “Roman, stop,” she giggled, a sound I hadn’t heard from her in years. “He does whatever I tell him. He’s already under.” Roman let out a dark, arrogant laugh. “Perfect. He actually thinks you’re in debt. He has no idea this is all just payback for what he did to me.” Becca sighed, leaning her head against his chest. “Don’t be mad about the past, Roman. When he caught us back then… he had so much power, so much money. I had to tell him you forced yourself on me. I didn’t have a choice.” “And I spent years in a cell because of that lie,” Roman growled, though his tone was softening. “Which is why I’m giving you his life now,” she whispered. “The ether will keep him out. Go in there, tie him up, and nail it shut. Tomorrow, he dies, and everything he owns becomes yours.” As Roman lifted his head, the moonlight hit his face. It was uncanny. The same jawline, the same brow—he had spent the last year undergoing surgeries to become my double. Fury, hot and blinding, surged through me. For three years, I had lived in a sexless, miserable marriage because she claimed she was “traumatized” by the “assault” I’d rescued her from. I had endured her verbal abuse, her spending rages, and the slow dismantling of my company, all because I felt guilty for her pain. I had sacrificed my family’s legacy, sold my grandfather’s estate, all to save a woman who was currently planning my murder with her lover. I watched Roman head toward the funeral parlor. I followed him, my shadow merging with the dark. He wanted a disappearing act? Fine. I’d make sure Roman’s funeral was the real deal. Roman walked up to the casket. He didn’t open it immediately. Instead, he stood over it, his face twisted in a sneer of pure hatred. “Glenn, you bastard,” he spat. “Remember when I begged you for mercy at the sentencing? You looked me in the eye and told the judge to give me the maximum. You stole years of my life.” He laughed, a jagged, ugly sound. “Since you’re about to be worm-food, I’ll tell you a secret. That one time Becca let you touch her three years ago? That was my idea. I wanted to see if you could even manage it.” My teeth ground together so hard I thought they might shatter. “You actually got her pregnant, didn’t you? A real little miracle. Do you want to know what happened to that baby, Glenn? Becca didn’t miscarry. She came to see me on my work release, and we decided we didn’t want anything of yours living in this world. We got rid of it together.” I felt the world tilt. The air left my lungs. The child I had mourned for years—the loss I had blamed myself for—had been murdered by the two people I trusted most. “But hey, you’ll never hear this. You’re already gone.” Roman smirked and threw back the lid of the casket. His eyes went wide. His breath hitched. “What the… where is he?” The room was silent. He spun around, his pulse visible in his neck. He looked right at the corner where I was standing. “Glenn?” he stammered, his voice climbing an octave. “How are you… why aren’t you in the box?” The rage that had been simmering in my chest finally erupted. I didn’t give him a chance to move. I lunged, grabbing a handful of his hair and slamming his face into the edge of the mahogany casket. There was a sickening crunch as his nose shattered. Blood sprayed across the white silk lining. Before he could scream, I shoved a wad of duct tape over his mouth and tackled him into the box. I used the zip ties I’d grabbed from the garage to bind his hands and feet. He thrashed like a landed fish, muffled grunts of terror vibrating through the wood. The lid was heavy, and he was fighting with the strength of a desperate man. Just as I was struggling to hold it down, a voice cut through the room. “Glenn?!” I froze. Becca was standing in the doorway, a heavy framing hammer in her hand, her face a mask of icy resolve. Roman’s eyes pleaded with her. He thought his savior had arrived. I didn’t look at him. I turned toward her, mimicking Roman’s arrogant posture, and let out a low, shaky laugh. “Becca, it’s me. It’s Roman.” She paused, squinting through the dim light. I had the same build, the same face, and Roman’s clothes. She stepped closer, her expression softening into something disturbingly tender. “Roman? God, the resemblance is so perfect I almost scared myself.” Inside the box, the real Roman went still, a horrific realization dawning in his eyes. He began to thrash even harder, the casket groaning under the strain. Becca’s face hardened. She walked over and swung the hammer, slamming it down on the lid right above where his head would be. “Shut up!” she screamed at the box. The sound of wood splintering and a muffled shriek echoed through the room. Roman curled into a ball inside, his jaw likely broken by the force of the blow. Becca looked at me, her eyes shining with a chilling devotion. “Glenn, I tried to make this easy for you with the ether. Why do you have to make me hurt you?” I didn’t say a word. I just watched her. She thought I was Roman. She thought the man she was about to bury alive was her “unwanted” husband. She pulled a roll of industrial tape from her pocket and smoothed it over the seams of the lid. Then, she looked at me and smiled. “Help me with the nails, honey. Let’s put Glenn to rest for good.” I watched her, stroke after stroke, drive the nails into the wood, sealing her soulmate into his own grave. I couldn’t wait to see her face when she realized who she had actually killed. The service was held at the small chapel next to the crematorium. By the time Becca and I arrived, the “mourners” were already thin on the ground. There was no real grief here. The few relatives Roman had were clearly in on the scam. They nodded at me—at the man they thought was Roman—with knowing grins. “After today, you two can finally be a real couple,” one of them whispered, clapping me on the shoulder. “That bastard Glenn held you back for way too long.” Becca squeezed my hand, her palm sweaty. “Roman, we’re almost there. Aren’t you happy?” I remained silent for a long moment before asking, “Becca, did it have to end like this? If you’d just asked for a divorce, I’m sure he would have given it to you.” She frowned, her grip tightening. “Don’t start with that, Roman. Are you still guilty about the trial? I stayed with him to bleed him dry for you. Everything he had is ours now. It’s your compensation.” She reached into her designer bag and pulled out a gold card, sliding it into my hand. “Here. This is what I’ve been siphoning from his accounts over the last three years. Happy now?” I took the card, my fingers trembling. I started to laugh, a single tear escaping and rolling down my cheek. I was so happy, Becca. Happy to realize what a fool I’d been. I had loved her for ten years. I had thought her spending was a coping mechanism for her “trauma.” I had sold my family’s history, ignored my grandfather’s dying wish to keep our land, all to fund her secret life with another man. I looked at the casket where Roman lay, likely suffocating in the dark. “Becca,” I said, my voice thick with a dark irony. “I think I’ve changed my mind. Let’s not bother with a burial. Let’s just send him straight to the furnace.” The casket vibrated violently. The people around us looked away, pretending not to notice. “Burning’s better,” a loud, gravelly voice echoed from behind us. “A predator like him deserves to turn to ash.” I turned. My father-in-law, Arthur, was walking toward us. He stood by the casket, his face twisted in a sneer. “This animal hurt my daughter. Dying is too good for him.” He was cursing Roman’s name, but his eyes were on me, filled with a conspiratorial wink. He thought he was cursing me. I had treated this man like my own father. I had paid his medical bills, taken him on vacations, and respected him. Why did he hate me so much? Arthur reached out and nudged the casket with his foot. His expression shifted. He frowned, pushing it again. “Wait. Something’s wrong. This box… it feels too light.” The casket began to thrash again, a desperate, rhythmic banging against the wood. Arthur looked at me, then back at the box. “Is it possible… did we get the wrong guy in there?” The room went still. Becca hissed under her breath, “Dad, stop it! I locked him in myself last night. You know Roman is my savior—if I thought for a second I’d put him in danger, I’d kill myself!” But Arthur’s suspicion didn’t fade. “I built this box myself, Becca. I had Glenn lie in it weeks ago to ‘check the fit’ as a joke. This weight isn’t right.” He reached for the lid, his eyes hard. “Dad! If you open that now, you’ll ruin everything!” Becca grabbed his arm. “Once the furnace starts, Glenn’s life belongs to us. Roman can live under his name, and no one will ever know. Do you want to risk a scene now with all these people outside?” I stepped in, my voice calm. “Becca’s right. This is the transition period. We can’t afford any mistakes.” Arthur looked around at the curious glances from the staff. “Fine. But let’s get it to the fire. Now.” Roman’s muffled screams were becoming more frantic. Becca rushed over to the small air-slit she’d left and poured a large bottle of ether directly inside. The thrashing slowed, then stopped. Becca whispered to the wood, her voice devoid of emotion. “Don’t hate me, Glenn. Love is about who was there first. You have no idea what Roman sacrificed for me when we were kids. You sent him to prison. This is just the world correcting itself.” I listened to her, my mind spinning. Roman sacrificed for her when they were kids? I had investigated Roman years ago. He grew up in Europe. Becca had never left the States as a child. But I remembered something else. When I was a boy, staying with my grandfather in the mountains, my father and I had rescued a father and daughter who were lost in a storm. During the rescue, I had fallen down a ravine and shattered my leg. My father… he had drowned trying to get us across the creek. I looked at Becca. Then at Arthur. Arthur was the one who told me Becca had been assaulted in that hotel room. He was the one who pushed for the police report. He knew Roman. He knew their history. Why would he do this? As the funeral staff began to slide the casket toward the furnace, they pulled the body out to prepare it for the tray. Arthur’s brow furrowed deeper. He stepped forward, putting a hand on the shroud, weighing the body. “Becca,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “The weight… it’s all wrong. It’s too light.” “Dad, shut up!” Becca snapped. “I need to see his face,” Arthur insisted, his hand reaching for the cloth. Becca blocked him, her face pale. “Are you crazy? Someone will see!” The staff were starting to look over, confused. Arthur’s face was a mask of agonizing indecision. He didn’t want to get caught, but his gut was screaming at him. In the end, he let his greed win. He stood back and watched as the body was pushed into the maw of the crematorium. The fire roared to life with a deafening whoosh. Through the observation window, we watched the flames lick the shroud. Becca leaned against me, her voice trembling with excitement. “It’s over, Roman. He’s finally paying what he owes us.” But Arthur was pressed against the glass, his eyes wide. Suddenly, a flash of silver caught the light inside the furnace. Arthur’s breath hitched. “The bracelet!” he screamed, pointing a shaking finger at the flames. “Becca, that’s the bracelet you gave Roman!” Becca turned white. “No, Dad, you’re seeing things.” But as the heat intensified, the flesh melted away. The silver chain fell to the floor of the kiln. The initials engraved on the inside—B.M.—were clearly visible for a split second before the heat warped them. Becca spun around to look at me, her eyes filled with a dawning, horrific realization.

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I fell completely in love with my best friend’s older brother. To make him love me back, I did a lot of incredibly stupid things. My best friend sighed and warned me: “Give it up. My brother is cold-blooded. He’s a complete jerk.” Even he told me straight to my face that we would never happen in this lifetime. Then, I got into a car accident. When I woke up, I had completely forgotten everything about chasing him for years. When he came to visit me in the hospital with my best friend, I smiled sweetly and called him “Brother.” Later, I brought my new boyfriend to his birthday party. That night, he cornered me, gripping my chin, glaring at me like a feral animal. “Stop calling me ‘Brother’.” 1 Harper still found it baffling that I had ever fallen for her brother. So, even after I woke up from the crash, she wouldn’t stop nagging me. “Since you have amnesia now, make the most of it. Don’t go falling for someone who isn’t worth your time.” She handed me a peeled apple. I took a bite. It was pretty crisp. Just then, the hospital room door opened, and a handsome face walked in wearing a white coat. It was my attending physician, Dr. Liam Sterling. His eyes narrowed slightly in a smile, bringing a comforting warmth, like a gentle spring breeze. He looked at me, beaming. “Looks like someone is ready to be discharged.” I had been stuck in this hospital for almost a month. My body felt numb from lying in bed so long. Hearing those words was like being handed a pardon. I let out a cheer just as the door was pushed open again. This time, the man who walked in was wearing a tailored black business suit. His features were sharp, his aura cold, aloof, and aristocratic. Every step of his leather shoes on the tile radiated unquestionable authority and pressure. Looking at him, a sudden spike of fear rose in my chest. I instinctively looked at Harper. Instead of greeting him happily, she sighed, stood up, and introduced him. “Carter, you’re here.” The apple slipped from my hand, rolling across the floor until it stopped right at his feet. I swallowed hard and offered an awkward smile. “Harper, you never mentioned your brother was this hot!” Harper covered her face with her hands, clearly mortified by my behavior. The man, hearing my comment, merely furrowed his brow slightly. Somehow, that made him look even more brooding and attractive. I couldn’t help but feel a pang of regret. If only a brother this handsome was my actual brother. While I was busy lamenting internally, the handsome brother spoke up. “Ava, I heard you lost your memory. That’s probably for the best. I’ll treat you just like a little sister, same as Harper.” My eyes instantly lit up. “Thank you, Brother!” Harper dropped her hands, staring at me with a completely blank expression. And he just frowned even deeper. 2 Thanks to Harper’s extensive explanations, I finally learned just how pathetic and obsessive my pursuit of her brother had been. To put it simply, I had been an absolute, unapologetic simp. His name was Carter Hayes, and he was three years older than us. He was in the prime of his career, building his empire. One time, I went with Harper to his office building to find him, and it was love at first sight. Harper sighed, taking a bite of her cake with a tiny spoon. “Honestly, I really have no idea why you were so obsessed with him.” She trailed off, looking like she was holding something back, something too difficult to say out loud. I didn’t really care. She had already said this was all before the amnesia. Maybe my time chasing him was so agonizing that my brain took this accident as a perfect excuse to wipe the slate clean. And that was fine by me. I had forgotten him anyway. “Don’t worry, I promise I’ll treat him exactly like a real older brother from now on.” Seeing her eyes, which looked exactly like Carter’s, I cautiously floated an idea. “Do you think… is it possible that the person I actually had a crush on was you?” Harper rolled her eyes so hard I thought they might get stuck. “I think you need another brain scan.” We joked around, and the topic was quickly brushed aside. But they say when your luck is bad, even drinking cold water will crack a tooth. Right after I swore to the heavens that I harbored absolutely zero romantic thoughts about her brother, Harper spotted him. He was sitting not too far away from us. Just two tables down. He was wearing a casual button-down shirt, the top two buttons undone, his dark hair falling slightly over his forehead. He was staring intently at us. There was a faint, unreadable smile playing in his eyes. I think I realized why I fell in love with him at first sight. Just sitting there, he had the power to make your heart hammer against your ribs. His entire vibe was a mix of effortless wealth and lazy arrogance. The sharp lines of his face were softened by a cool, untouchable detachment. But this time, my heart didn’t flutter. I was just terrified that what we had just been talking about might cause a misunderstanding. I didn’t know why, but right now, looking at him just made me want to run away. The lingering effects of the car crash were seriously no joke. 3 Harper instinctively stood up. She seemed to be genuinely intimidated by her brother. She walked over obediently, keeping her head down, and mumbled, “Hey, Carter.” Seeing her, I quickly tagged along. Hiding behind Harper, I offered a soft, timid greeting: “Hi, Carter.” “Oh? Why isn’t the little sis calling you ‘Carter-bear’ this time?” A guy sitting next to him laughed out loud. He grabbed his drink, took a huge gulp, looking like a total playboy. Harper instinctively threw her arm out, shielding me behind her. That subconscious, protective gesture sent a wave of warmth through my heart. Carter was apparently at a business dinner. Besides the guy who just spoke, the other people at the table were also looking at me with calculating expressions. “She probably realized playing the desperate stalker wasn’t working, so now she’s trying reverse psychology.” One of the women at the table chimed in with a smirk. Then, the woman next to her leaned in and whispered something in her ear. They exchanged a knowing, mocking smile. That kind of behavior was incredibly annoying. But I didn’t take it to heart. Let them talk. I couldn’t hear what they were whispering anyway. And even if they gossiped until the sky fell down, it wasn’t going to take a piece of flesh off me. Harper, on the other hand, was glaring daggers. Just as she opened her mouth to snap back, Carter cut her off. “Why are you here?” His eyes locked onto me, piercing right through me. He was asking me. Did he think we were stalking him and followed him here? I shivered involuntarily and spoke in a tiny voice. “We just read some good reviews online. We’ve never been to this restaurant before.” The implication being: running into him was a pure accident. Harper gathered her courage too. “Carter, you don’t need to be so tense. Ava really did forget all about you.” He let out a low chuckle, his gaze drifting upward, landing on the small square of gauze covering the wound on my forehead. He said cryptically: “Forgetting is a good thing.” I didn’t know if he meant forgetting him. Or forgetting that entire pathetic history of chasing him. But none of that had anything to do with me anymore. Loving him was in the past. Living my life was the present. Starting a new chapter was the future. I flashed a sickeningly sweet smile: “You’re absolutely right, Carter!” The smirk on Carter’s face vanished, settling into a dead, emotionless mask. His dark eyes practically radiated a freezing, biting chill. 4 After that day, I didn’t leave my apartment for almost half a month. When Harper came over to check on me, I was glued to my iPad, completely engrossed in a TV show. It was one of those wildly popular, super-sweet romance dramas. The chemistry between the male and female leads was perfect, and I was absolutely obsessed. The only downside was the agonizingly slow release schedule—only four episodes a week. “Your brain is going to rot watching this garbage.” Harper looked at me with absolute exasperation. “Are you just giving up on life because of what my brother said?” I lay on my stomach on the bed, staring at her with question marks floating around my head. The video was paused right at the exact moment the leads were staring into each other’s eyes, about to kiss. I lazily rolled over. “Giving up on life? What the hell are you talking about?” Harper lay down next to me and asked, “Are you sure it’s not because of my brother?” “You’re making zero sense.” This time, it was my turn to roll my eyes. I shoved the iPad toward her. “Look at this new show I just invested in.” Harper was confused. “Since when did you start investing in TV shows?” “I have no idea.” I scratched my head. “When I woke up in the hospital, the producers were already messaging me. It must have been something I set up before the crash.” Harper nodded. TV production cycles were long; my explanation made perfect sense. Soon enough, she was sucked into the plot, too. When I woke up from a nap, she was staring at me with massive dark circles under her eyes. My mouth twitched. “Don’t tell me you stayed up all night watching that.” She grabbed my arm and shook it aggressively. “Never mind that! Can you please, please take me to the wrap party?!” That was when I found out Harper had not only binge-watched the latest episodes but also gone online to hunt for spoilers and behind-the-scenes gossip. She had found out there was going to be a wrap party for the cast and crew next week. The production team had already sent me an invitation. Since she wouldn’t stop begging, I had no choice but to take her with me. On the night of the party, Harper dressed elegantly and beautifully. She wore a soft, butter-yellow flared dress, her hair styled in loose, glamorous waves cascading down her back. She was naturally gorgeous, and with a touch of light makeup, anyone who didn’t know better would have assumed she was the leading actress. “Tell me the truth. Do you have a crush on the male lead?” Harper slapped my accusing finger away, making a solemn vow. “I can completely separate the character from real life, thank you very much!” If she hadn’t practically sprinted toward him the second we walked in, I might have actually believed her bullshit. But given her net worth, falling for a celebrity wouldn’t be a huge issue anyway. I grabbed a glass of champagne and mingled through the crowd. The instinct for high-society networking was practically baked into my bones; even amnesia couldn’t erase it. But I finally understood why my brain had completely blocked out the memory of investing in this show. Because I spotted the primary, massive financial backer of the series. It was Carter Hayes. I guess the old me saw him investing and threw money at the project just to have an excuse to be close to him. After all, according to Harper… Before the crash, I had the ultimate, terminal case of ‘love-on-the-brain’. His eyes found me through the crowded room. He offered a distant, knowing smirk. He looked so smug and self-assured, as if he was saying: See? I knew you were faking the amnesia. 5 A wave of panic hit me, and I instinctively turned to walk away. I didn’t expect to crash directly into someone. “Careful.” Hearing that familiar, warm tone, I couldn’t help but look up. “Dr. Sterling?” He smiled. “What a coincidence. Are you involved with this production, Ava?” I shook my head. “No, I just invested in it.” Liam’s smile froze for a fraction of a second. “Ava, you certainly throw your money around.” His reaction made me laugh. The little interruption eased my tense nerves significantly. It turned out that because the female lead in the show was a doctor, they needed a professional medical consultant on set. Liam’s grandfather was a highly respected figure in the medical field. But since his grandfather couldn’t make it, he sent Liam in his place. That was how I learned that this seemingly ordinary, unassuming man actually came from a prestigious medical dynasty. The very hospital where I had stayed was owned by his family. “I didn’t realize Dr. Sterling was hiding his light under a bushel.” I raised my glass to toast him. Liam chuckled awkwardly. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” His long, elegant fingers held the crystal flute, the golden liquid swaying inside. The chandelier light hit the glass, making it sparkle. His hands were incredibly slender and refined. I don’t know if it was the alcohol going to my head, but I blurted out, “Dr. Sterling, has anyone ever told you that you have really nice hands?” Liam paused for a second, completely unfazed. Instead, he stepped a fraction closer. “Is it just my hands that are nice, or is it everything else too?” He was standing quite close. His eyes were locked onto mine. A strange, inexplicable feeling started to bloom in the pit of my stomach. My breath hitched for a second. Just as I was about to speak, someone clamped a hand around my wrist and forcefully dragged me out of Liam’s personal space. I looked up and saw Carter’s tightly clenched jaw. His eyes were lowered, his voice rough and gravelly. “This is a public event. Show some restraint.”

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In the morning, Arthur and I finalized our divorce. By the afternoon, he had taken our daughter and boarded a flight back to New York. Staring at the divorce decree in my hands, I realized this piece of paper was the sum total of our five-year marriage. I sold my house in Seattle and quit my job. With that, my last remaining ties to Seattle were severed. On the Amtrak train heading back to my hometown, I received a call from my daughter. She asked why I hadn’t gone with them to New York. I smiled and replied calmly, “Didn’t you cry and scream that you didn’t want me to be your mommy anymore?” “Don’t worry, you’ll have a new mommy very soon.” 01 When I arrived at my hometown, I saw my grandmother standing by the front door, leaning on her cane, looking out for me. Beside her was a cute little girl, staring at me with wide, curious eyes. In the past, whenever I saw a child, I would happily go over and give them a hug. But now… I didn’t like kids anymore. My grandmother told me she was the granddaughter of our neighbor, Mrs. Higgins. The girl’s parents had died in a tragic accident, leaving her as their only child, so she had been sent to live in the country with her grandmother. I nodded, a spark of sympathy igniting in my chest, but I still couldn’t bring myself to like children. The little girl looked at me with her big, round eyes and said, “Auntie, you’re so pretty.” I forced a tight smile, didn’t reply, and helped my grandmother back into the house. A little while later, Mrs. Higgins came over and took the girl home. In the middle of the night, the blaring sirens of an ambulance woke us up. I opened the door and saw Mrs. Higgins being loaded onto a stretcher. The little girl stood behind them, her face covered in snot and tears. Later, the police took the little girl away. Two days later, my grandmother told me with a heavy sigh that Mrs. Higgins had suffered a massive heart attack and hadn’t made it. I suddenly thought of that poor child, feeling a deep pang of sorrow. I asked my grandmother, “What about the little girl? Does she have any other relatives besides Mrs. Higgins?” My grandmother thought for a moment and told me she seemed to have an uncle in the next county over. I felt a sense of relief. At least the little girl would have a place to stay. The next morning, I opened the front door and found the little girl sitting on our neighbor’s porch, shivering violently. It was obvious. The uncle didn’t want to take her in and had sent her right back. My grandmother looked at my face and told me she wanted to adopt the girl. I didn’t say a word. I just took the little girl’s hand and marched straight to the police station to figure out her situation. In the end, I filled out the adoption paperwork. From that day on, a girl named Luna was officially part of our family. 02 After a month of chaotic adjustments, I finally settled down in my hometown. Luna used to be a very cheerful girl, but losing her family members one after another had taken a heavy toll on her. She went from a girl who loved to laugh to someone who was quiet and rigidly serious. Even though she was so young, she acted incredibly mature for her age. She learned to read my moods, helped me with chores, and even followed my grandmother into the vegetable garden to help carry her basket. Every time I saw how incredibly well-behaved Luna was, I couldn’t help but think of my own child, far away in New York. The little princess the Sterling family held in the palm of their hands: Chloe Sterling. If Chloe wanted to eat fresh steak, someone would probably buy her a whole ranch. If Chloe wanted to go swimming, someone would gift her a luxury resort. Luna often woke up crying in the middle of the night, asking if I was going to abandon her too. I would hold her tightly, stroke her hair, and answer, “No. Mommy wants to live a happy life, and I don’t want to make the people around me sad.” “So, Luna, Mommy is going to make sure you’re always happy. Do you believe Mommy?” She stayed silent for a long time, then hugged me fiercely. “Mommy, Luna will stay with you forever. Luna wants to make Mommy happy, too.” Time slipped away, little by little. Luna grew up day by day. When she turned seven, Luna started elementary school. For years, I picked her up and dropped her off every single day, rain or shine. I held Luna’s hand as we walked home. She was always very quiet on the way. Sometimes, when she saw other little girls throwing tantrums at their parents, Luna would just glance at them and tell me that people need to stay calm. I couldn’t help but laugh. Luna was becoming more and more mature every day. Just as we walked into our front yard, a little girl in a frilly tutu came sprinting toward me. “Mommy!” I took a step back, and Luna caught the little girl, who almost tripped. “Little girl, you have the wrong person.” I looked up at the man sitting across from my grandmother. “Sir, I think you have the wrong house.” Chloe instantly burst into loud, hysterical tears. I looked at my grandmother, who sighed helplessly and pulled Luna inside the house. The year I returned to my hometown, I told my grandmother I would never contact the Sterling family again. My grandmother knew my past and didn’t ask any questions. Later, after we adopted Luna, my grandmother rarely ever thought about the great-granddaughter with the nasty temper. Arthur walked over to me and stared, completely silent. I stepped to the side, leaving the path to the door open, silently telling them to leave. Chloe, seeing Luna go inside, wiped her tears and hugged my leg. “Mommy, I missed you so much! Please come back to New York with us!” I smiled gently, patted her head, took her hand, and led her outside the gate. I turned to Arthur. “Mr. Sterling. Let’s talk outside.” 03 Looking at Arthur’s familiar face, memories of our past flooded back. Everything from before felt like a story out of a cheesy novel—interesting but ultimately meaningless. My grandfather and Arthur’s grandfather had been in the military together when they were young. The story goes that my grandfather was honorably discharged early because he took a bullet saving Arthur’s grandfather’s life. Because of that, before my grandfather passed away, our families were incredibly close. The year I graduated from college, rumor had it that Arthur had beaten up the son of a prominent family in New York. The Sterling family, afraid of retaliation, sent Arthur to Seattle to lay low for a while. That day, I got a call from my grandfather asking me to pick someone up from the airport. As a recent grad, I had been running around all day doing interviews and was completely exhausted. Without even having time to wash up, I quickly gathered my things and rushed to the airport. When I arrived, Arthur had already been waiting at the entrance for a long time, looking incredibly impatient. He was sitting on his suitcase, casually scrolling through his phone, smiling one second and frowning the next. The moment I saw him, all my exhaustion from the day vanished. A boy shining as brightly as the summer sun is the easiest thing in the world to fall for. For me, a secret crush was just a pursuit—trying to get closer and closer to him, knowing I might never reach the finish line. I knew the gap between our families was like an uncrossable chasm, but I couldn’t stop my heart from racing. After Arthur spent half a month with my grandparents in the country, he got incredibly bored. Not long after, my grandfather called to tell me Arthur was moving to the city and asked me to help him find an apartment. I knew my grandparents were getting older and their lifestyle was completely different from Arthur’s. But I was so swamped with work that I completely forgot about it until I found Arthur standing outside my apartment door. Arthur didn’t complain. Once he found out I lived alone, he casually dragged his suitcase in and moved into my rented apartment. During the time we lived together, I learned that he had a childhood sweetheart back home. The whole reason he was exiled to Seattle was because his sweetheart had been harassed by a drunk friend of that prominent family. Furious, Arthur beat the guy up, but the other family had deep connections. Left with no choice, the Sterling family sent him to Seattle while they used their connections to smooth things over and beg for peace. Their childhood romance was the kind that made people envious. And as a bystander, I constantly heard about their passionate love, their cold wars, and their explosive arguments. During the three months Arthur lived in Seattle, he left traces of his existence all over my apartment. One night, knowing Arthur had gotten into another massive fight with his sweetheart, I assumed he had gone to bed early. When I opened the door, I found Arthur passed out on the floor. I quickly helped him onto the sofa and went to the kitchen to get him some water. In his drunken haze, Arthur pulled me into his arms and demanded to know why I had brought him home. In the chaos, I still don’t know exactly how the mistake happened. 04 I still remember the look in his eyes when he woke up. Cold, even ruthless. As if I was the one who had wronged him. Even though I had dated before, this was my first time doing something like this. That day, under his freezing glare, I ignored the soreness in my body and fled the apartment. That night, the name he kept calling out was hers. It was so passionate and lingering. Even during the years we were married, he never called my name like that. It truly was: The falling flowers yearn for the flowing stream, but the unfeeling stream cares not for the flowers. 05 There was a massive oak tree outside my grandmother’s house. In the summer, people would gather under its shade to cool off. But now it was late autumn. Aside from the falling leaves, there was only a chilling silence in the air. Arthur and I stood under the tree, the withered landscape stretching out behind us. “What do you want to say?” Arthur stared straight at me. “Have you forgotten the terms of our divorce agreement?” “What do you mean?” “Our marriage ended four years ago.” “Over the years, I’ve followed the agreement to the letter. I’ve never once tried to contact you.” “And based on Chloe’s reaction, someone in your family has been talking about me a lot.” “She was only three when we separated. There’s no way she would recognize me instantly like this.” Arthur took a step forward, turning to look at Chloe, who was playing nearby. “My grandfather constantly reminds her about you and shows her your pictures.” “If that’s the case, why did you show up at my house?” Arthur offered a faint smile. “We went to the house in the city and found out you sold it.” “So I brought her here to your hometown to find you.” I closed my eyes briefly and said, “You know you aren’t welcome here.” “I’ll let it slide this time, but take her and leave. Now.” I was a strict mother, but Chloe had been spoiled rotten by the Sterling family for years. If we spent any real time together, she would only hate me more. It was better for her to leave now. Arthur didn’t say anything. He just took Chloe’s hand and left. I thought that was the end of it. Two days later, Luna told me that Chloe had transferred to her school and was even in her class. When I heard that, I sat on my porch and thought for an entire afternoon. It didn’t matter. I had to keep living my life. I couldn’t let the two of them disrupt my peace. 06 My hometown wasn’t highly developed, but for people who had lived in the city their whole lives, it was like a hidden paradise. During my marriage, I had put my career on hold to be a full-time housewife. But now, I wanted to use my own two hands to build a better future. So, in my hometown, I opened a bed and breakfast, a restaurant, and a cozy little lounge. As more and more people visited the town, my businesses thrived. Influencers frequently came to my places to check in and post photos. Since Arthur hadn’t officially told me about the school transfer, I pretended I didn’t know. Then one day, Chloe was dropped off at my B&B by a chauffeur. The driver told me Arthur was away on a business trip for a few days. Unlike last time, Chloe didn’t throw a tantrum or try to drag me away. She just sat quietly on a stool and did her homework. With my tacit approval, the driver started dropping Chloe off every single day. Chloe looked exactly like me, but her temper and personality were entirely Arthur’s. When she was little, she would only sleep if I held her. Even eating and drinking required me to feed her personally; she wouldn’t touch food from anyone else. Looking at her chubby little face and hearing her sweet voice call me “Mommy”… I felt like all the suffering I had endured was completely worth it. But the moment she realized she didn’t have to depend on me… She learned how to lie. She learned how to throw tantrums at me. She even told me right to my face that she preferred “Auntie Evelyn,” who was always dressed in glamorous, expensive clothes. After Evelyn filled her head with stories of New York’s wealth and splendor… Chloe had angrily demanded: “Mommy, why are you keeping me and Daddy in this poor, ugly place?! I want Auntie Evelyn to take me to New York!” “I don’t like a mommy who just stays at home all day! I want Auntie Evelyn to take me out to play every day!”

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I knew my husband, Ryan Prescott, faked his death and took on his twin brother’s identity, but I never exposed him. Instead, I went to the military commander, informed him of my husband’s supposed demise, and requested his military discharge. In my previous life, my brother-in-law died unexpectedly, and my husband resolutely abandoned his position as a Battalion Commander to impersonate his twin, all to prevent his sister-in-law from becoming a widow. I recognized him as Ryan, and confronted him about why he was impersonating his younger brother. Ryan, however, denied it adamantly, coldly pushing me away. “Eleanor, I know you’re devastated that my brother is gone, but you can’t mistake me for him just because he’s dead!” He shielded his delicate sister-in-law, pushed me into an icy river, and warned me against delusional thoughts. My five-year-old daughter cried, asking why her daddy didn’t want her, and was locked in a cowshed to reflect, starving for three days and nights. My mother-in-law cursed me as a jinx who brought death to her husband, throwing my daughter and me out of the house penniless. Ryan even spread rumors that I had gone mad, coveting my brother-in-law immediately after my husband’s death. I was scorned and despised by everyone, clinging to my daughter, numbly dying in the bitter cold of winter. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my husband began impersonating his brother. …

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After my lifelong rival lost his memory in an accident, I convinced him I was his girlfriend. He fell for it completely, handing over his bank accounts and letting me spend his money however I pleased. So, I spent my days blowing through his cash, and my nights secretly downloading confidential data from his corporate laptop. Just as I was preparing to take his innocence and flee the country, leaving him completely ruined, a string of text suddenly appeared floating in mid-air: [Little does she know, the big bad villain has been waiting for this exact moment for ages.] [He’s been faking his amnesia this whole time just so he can finally sleep with her!] [Oh my god, the tension! He’s literally burning up inside! Just do it already!] My hand, holding the glass of milk I had just spiked with sedatives, trembled violently. Should I still give it to him? 1 While I was agonizing over my next move, Elias Vance suddenly wrapped his arms around me from behind. His deep, magnetic voice brushed against my ear: “Baby, what are you thinking about?” Before I could even respond, Elias noticed the milk in my hand. He smoothly took it from me and downed it in one gulp. It happened so fast I didn’t even have a chance to stop him. Crap. For the past few months, under the guise of being a doting, caring girlfriend worried about his stressful job, I had been making him a glass of hot milk every night before bed. A glass of milk laced with a mild sedative. Once Elias was deeply asleep, I had free rein to access his laptop and steal highly classified corporate secrets. Elias was completely oblivious, genuinely believing I was just being sweet. It became a habit. Every night, he drank the milk I “lovingly” prepared for him. That was my plan for tonight, too. I wanted him to drink the spiked milk without suspecting a thing. I had everything perfectly planned. Elias was famously disciplined. Even after I manipulated him into moving in with me, he absolutely refused to cross any physical boundaries before marriage. For a man that rigid, losing his innocence to me—especially when he eventually regained his memory—would be a fate worse than death. But right as I was about to execute the final phase of my revenge, those bizarre floating comments appeared. I had no idea if the comments were telling the truth. While I was hesitating, Elias went ahead and drank the milk anyway. [LMAO, she probably has no idea the villain knows she’s been drugging his milk this whole time.] [He drank it on purpose.] [This guy plays the perfect gentleman during the day, insisting on sleeping in separate rooms, but at night he’s literally taking cold showers to keep from losing his mind.] I was still highly skeptical of the floating text. I decided to test the waters and see if Elias’s amnesia was real or fake. I intentionally dropped a bomb: “Elias, let’s break up.” 2 Instantly, Elias’s calm, relaxed expression vanished. He grabbed my hand tightly, as if terrified I was going to vanish into thin air. His tone was incredibly desperate and submissive. “Baby, are you upset because I haven’t been spending enough time with you lately?” “If there’s something you don’t like, I’ll change it, okay? Please, don’t break up with me.” Before his amnesia, Elias was notoriously cold and unapproachable. He showed zero interest in women and displayed the emotional range of a glacier. Even if I stood right in front of him and cursed him out, he wouldn’t even bat an eye. He would never act like this. It seemed like his amnesia was genuine. The comments were clearly lying. But the next second, new text popped up. [Tsk, tsk. Don’t let his pathetic act fool you. If she actually tries to run, he wouldn’t hesitate to handcuff her to the bed.] [Hehehe, considering how many cold showers he takes, if he finally gets his hands on her, she probably won’t be able to walk for three days.] [She has no idea he secretly had custom chains made just for her.] [I live for this dark, obsessive romance trope! Yes!] I instinctively took a step back, and by pure coincidence, caught a fleeting, dark, predatory gleam in Elias’s eyes. He took a step forward, backing me into a corner. Only then did I realize how incredibly tall and physically imposing he was. The physical proximity was suffocating. I was trapped against the wall. I had put a heavy dose in that milk. It worked fast. Within minutes, the corners of Elias’s sharp eyes flushed a deep, feverish red. He looked incredibly, dangerously alluring. Even though I despised him, I had to admit, he was exactly my physical type. He leaned in, his hot, heavy breath brushing against my neck. His large, slightly calloused hand gently guided mine down toward the hem of his shirt. He was making me touch his abs. The very same abs he used to violently forbid me from going near. The texture was incredible. Hard as a rock. His voice was hoarse as he coaxed me: “Baby, please don’t break up with me.” “You can touch me wherever you want.” [Look at those abs! Elias is so…] [This is making me sweat! Just do it already!] [I am begging you, please sleep together right now!] 3 This version of Elias was honestly significantly more endearing than the old one. At the very least, I had never seen him look this desperate and vulnerable before. For a moment, I completely forgot about the comments claiming he was faking his amnesia, and just internally celebrated my victory. Even if he was faking, I had still forced Elias Vance to bow down to me. My lifelong dream had finally been realized. But then I remembered the part about him meticulously plotting all of this while pretending to have amnesia. He was far too calculating. I needed to quit while I was ahead. So, I gently coaxed him into letting go of me, and then bolted for the study door. Just as I grabbed the doorknob, the comments returned. [Sigh. As much as I want them to hook up right now, the plot has to move forward.] [Poor thing doesn’t know that the second she walks out that door, she’s going to get hit by a speeding semi-truck and die, which triggers the villain’s ultimate descent into madness.] My hand froze on the doorknob. I slowly turned around and looked at Elias’s broad shoulders and narrow waist, partially obscured by the shadows of the room. He seemed to be violently suppressing something. The memory of those rock-hard abs flashed in my mind. You know what? Maybe I should just ruin his innocence right now. 4 I didn’t know if the comments were telling the truth, but I wasn’t taking any chances. I had worked my ass off to steal his corporate secrets; I hadn’t even had the chance to use them yet. I wasn’t about to die now. I decisively walked back to Elias. Under his utterly shocked gaze, I reached up and kissed him. I never expected Elias, who always acted so cold and untouchable, to have such incredibly soft lips. His eyes glazed over as I aggressively tugged at his collar, messing up his perfect shirt. The sharp, defined lines of his muscles shifted with his ragged breathing. He looked absolutely stunned, almost as if he couldn’t believe it was happening. His voice trembled as he asked: “Chloe, why did you come back?” I was instantly furious that he used my real name. It reminded me of the very first time I lost to him academically. I was so angry, I pointed a finger at him and yelled, “Elias Vance, just you wait!” “I, Chloe Sterling, will beat you one day, and you’re going to admit defeat!” That was the very first time Elias ever actually looked at me. He smiled. Even though his face was usually a mask of ice, his smile was devastatingly handsome. I was momentarily dazed, and when I snapped out of it, he delivered the most infuriating line ever: “So your name is Chloe Sterling.” I was so incredibly insulted. I had considered him my ultimate rival. I studied until I bled, desperately trying to beat his test scores, and he didn’t even know my name?! From that day on, I officially declared him my mortal enemy. Whenever he was near me, whenever he spoke, I made sure to aggressively insult him. This went on for so long that one day, he rubbed his temples and asked me, sounding incredibly exhausted: “Chloe, do you really hate me that much?” Why is he calling me by my first name? Are we friends?! I just got even angrier. So, when he got amnesia and I tricked him into thinking I was his girlfriend, I strictly forbade him from using my name. He was only allowed to call me “Baby.” Because whenever he used my name, I got so mad I couldn’t even stay in character. I was just about to bite him and demand he stop using my name when… A massive wave of comments flooded my vision. [Why did she go back???] [This isn’t how the plot goes! Did the author rewrite the chapter?!] [Whatever, I’ll read anything at this point. But it would be even better if they actually slept together.] [Yes, write it, write it! Feed us!] [If the dark, villain-era Elias knew she didn’t actually die, he’d probably cry his eyes out.] Amidst the chaotic, thirsty comments, I finally spotted one that actually made sense. I don’t know if I was imagining things, but I swore I saw a flash of moisture in Elias’s eyes.

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I was Julian’s child bride, raised by his family. On our wedding day, he died in a tragic accident, falling into the ocean. While I was drowning in grief, my parents-in-law suggested I marry his younger brother instead. I was just about to refuse when a string of comments suddenly appeared in mid-air right in front of me: [Ugh, the evil supporting female character is so annoying, constantly clinging to the male lead. Thank God he faked his death to escape the wedding.] [Does she really think that just because her dad died saving the male lead’s parents, she can use that guilt to force him to marry her? She deserves to be a widow for the rest of her life!] I stared blankly for a long time before wiping away my tears. “Okay. I’ll marry him.” 1 My husband, Julian Sterling. Died by falling into the ocean on our wedding day. The search and rescue teams scoured the waters for twenty-four hours. They never found a body. They only recovered the car he had been driving. After Julian’s funeral. My mother-in-law held my hand, her eyes red from crying. She said she couldn’t bear to see me become a widow at such a young age, and she couldn’t bear to lose me as a daughter-in-law. She gently urged me to marry her younger son, Liam. I froze, and was just opening my mouth to decline. When a string of floating text suddenly materialized in front of my eyes. [The evil supporting female character is so annoying, constantly clinging to the male lead. Thank God he faked his death to escape the wedding.] I paused. Male lead? Who were they talking about? [She’s literally the daughter of a chauffeur and a maid. How is she worthy of the male lead? Does she really think that just because her dad died saving the male lead’s parents, she can use that guilt to force him to marry her? She deserves to be a widow for the rest of her life!] That’s when I finally understood. The “male lead” these people were talking about was Julian. And the “evil supporting female character”… was me. 2 I was originally the daughter of the Sterling family’s chauffeur and housekeeper. Twenty years ago, my parents-in-law were targeted by hitmen. My parents sacrificed their own lives to ensure they escaped safely. At only three years old, I became an orphan with no one in the world. Out of profound gratitude, my parents-in-law betrothed me to their son, Julian, who was the same age as me. They promised they would never let me suffer a single hardship for the rest of my life. Over the years, Julian and I grew up together. We went to the same schools, got into the same university, and I yielded to his every whim. I did it all just to give peace of mind to the parents-in-law who doted on me. I never expected that Julian would rather fake his own death than marry me. I looked at my parents-in-law. They had lost so much weight and aged visibly from the grief of losing Julian. A surge of fierce anger ignited in my chest. If he didn’t want to marry me, he could have just said so! Why go to the extreme of faking his death and causing them so much agonizing heartbreak?! Beside me, my mother-in-law was still trying to persuade me: “Liam is only three years younger than you. He’s twenty now, the perfect age to get married.” [Tsk, stop trying to convince her. The evil supporting female character would never marry Liam. She’s obsessively in love with Julian and only wants to play the tragic, devoted widow for him.] [Six months from now, the male lead is going to return with the pregnant female lead. They think his garbage parents will finally stop pressuring him, but they refuse to let the female lead into the house! They demand the male lead take responsibility for the evil supporting female character instead! The evil female character tortures the female lead, and the garbage parents and Liam help her do it.] [Don’t get mad, guys! The evil female character eventually gets what’s coming to her and dies. Liam dies trying to protect her, and the garbage parents drop dead from the shock. Our male and female leads will have the last laugh!] [And don’t even feel bad for those relatives! Spoiler alert: the male lead was switched at birth! His biological parents treat him amazingly later on. Unlike this fake family that only sides with outsiders!] Watching the comments scroll by, my hands slowly clenched into tight fists. Julian wasn’t even their biological son?! Thinking about my incredibly kind, loving parents-in-law and the sweet, obedient Liam meeting such horrific ends filled me with absolute fury. 3 I looked directly at my mother-in-law and gave a firm, decisive nod. “Mom, I agree.” [Is the evil supporting female character having a psychotic break? Did she find out the male lead is still alive and intentionally marry his brother to make him jealous?] [Pfft, dream on. The male lead only has the female lead in his heart. She could stay a virgin widow for him her entire life and he still wouldn’t spare her a single glance.] Stay a virgin widow for Julian? In his dreams! Since he wanted to marry someone else… I’d gladly grant his wish. But. As long as I drew breath. I would absolutely never let my parents-in-law or Liam suffer the fate those comments described. My mother-in-law froze in shock, then her eyes welled up with red. She grabbed my hand tightly. “Oh, my sweet girl.” Julian and I had held a wedding ceremony, but we hadn’t legally registered the marriage. We weren’t a legally recognized couple. So, acting quickly under my parents-in-law’s direction. Liam and I went to the courthouse, got our marriage license, and became legally wed. However, since the eldest son of the Sterling family had just “passed away.” The house was still shrouded in deep mourning. We didn’t hold a second wedding ceremony. 4 Exactly as the floating text predicted, six months later. Julian returned, bringing the pregnant female lead with him. My parents-in-law and Liam weren’t home. When the butler escorted them inside, I was the only one in the grand living room, quietly eating lunch. The moment Julian walked in and saw me, his brow furrowed in deep disgust. “Mia, why are you still squatting in my house?” I looked up at him. Julian was dressed in plain, cheap clothes, looking utterly exhausted and worn down. He was noticeably thinner than before. He had a tan and looked incredibly haggard. It seemed that without the Sterling family’s financial backing for the last six months, he had eaten quite a bit of dirt out in the real world. As for the female lead, Chloe. She was petite and slender, the textbook definition of a fragile, innocent white flower. Her stomach showed a slight bump, and she was currently cowering timidly against Julian’s chest. I elegantly dabbed my mouth with a napkin, watching them with a calm, amused expression, and didn’t say a word. [The male and female leads finally survived their hardships and made it back! Soon, the Sterling empire will belong to them, they’ll have a spectacular wedding, and become the happiest couple in the world!] [Why isn’t the evil supporting character saying anything? She must be so thrilled to see the male lead alive that her brain short-circuited, right?] Thrilled? I scoffed internally. Over the past six months… Liam and I had grown incredibly close. In the boardroom, we were a flawlessly synchronized team. At home, under the loving gaze of our parents, we retired to the same bedroom every night. What started as stiff and awkward had gradually become completely natural and comfortable. As for Julian, he no longer caused even the slightest ripple of emotion in my heart. Furthermore, I had already uncovered the truth about Julian’s actual lineage. When my mother-in-law gave birth to her first child, medical malpractice resulted in a stillbirth. Terrified of taking the blame, the delivering doctor panicked. Coincidentally, the doctor’s sister had gotten pregnant out of wedlock and delivered a baby boy on the exact same day, but couldn’t afford to raise him. Knowing the Sterling family was incredibly wealthy. The two sisters hatched a plan and swapped the babies, passing the sister’s son off as my mother-in-law’s child. My original plan was that if they never came back, I would keep this secret buried forever to spare my mother-in-law the heartbreak. But since they had the nerve to return, there was no way I was letting my in-laws continue to be deceived by these parasites! 5 Seeing me stand there in silence, Julian’s face twisted with impatience. “I asked you a question! Are you deaf?” “Let me make this crystal clear: I wouldn’t marry you then, and I won’t marry you now. Chloe is the only woman I will ever love. She is carrying the eldest grandson of the Sterling family! My parents value their bloodline above all else; they will never force me to marry you now! If you know what’s good for you, pack your bags and get out of my house!” The woman in his arms, Chloe, nestled against his chest like a fragile bird, speaking in a soft, whispery voice: “Julian, is this the woman who was obsessively stalking you and insisting she’d only ever marry you? Since your parents love her so much, will they refuse to let me marry you?” Julian patted her back comfortingly, his voice dripping with tenderness. “Chloe, you are the one I love. And now that you’re carrying my child, my parents will absolutely accept you. Don’t worry.” Chloe shot me a timid, fearful glance, as if terrified of me, and buried her face back into his chest. This only fueled Julian’s anger toward me. “What are you just standing there for?! You’re nothing but the daughter of our maid! If it weren’t for my parents, you’d be rotting on the streets! Hurry up and prepare a room for my Chloe, and welcome us properly!” I stared at Julian, the comments about my in-laws’ tragic fate flashing through my mind. A tidal wave of emotion surged within me. I wanted nothing more than to order security to throw this disgusting pair out into the street. But I couldn’t. Right now, my parents-in-law still didn’t know the truth about Julian’s bloodline. To them, their eldest son, whom they had raised and loved for twenty years, had just miraculously returned from the dead. They would be absolutely ecstatic. If I threw him out now. It would break their hearts. I stood up and calmly instructed the maids to prepare a room for Chloe and Julian. Chloe immediately teared up, looking deeply distressed. “Julian… she’s the lady of the house… I shouldn’t have come back with you…” Hearing this, Julian pulled Chloe tightly into his arms, looking at her with profound heartache. Then he shot me a freezing glare: “Who do you think you are, ordering the Sterling family staff around?! Get upstairs and clean Chloe’s room yourself! If you don’t serve her perfectly, I’ll have you thrown out of the Sterling estate!” 6 Right at that moment, my young husband, Liam, returned home from his university classes. As soon as he walked through the door, he heard Julian’s enraged shouting. Then, he saw Julian’s face. He froze completely. He clearly hadn’t expected him to still be alive. Quickly, a bright smile spread across his face. “Brother! You’re alive! Mom and Dad are going to be so incredibly happy!” Then, as if remembering something. His gaze shifted to me, his expression momentarily twisting with complex emotion and a hint of profound melancholy. Even though Liam and I had been married for six months, and we slept in the same room to ease our parents’ minds. We hadn’t consummated the marriage. Usually, I slept on the bed, and he slept on a mattress on the floor. Julian patted Liam’s shoulder and announced, “Liam, let me introduce you. This is your sister-in-law. She’s pregnant with my child.” Liam finally noticed Chloe huddled in Julian’s arms. His eyes widened in sheer shock. He looked at me again, opening his mouth but unable to find the words. Seeing Liam’s gaze, Julian shot me another look of pure disgust and explained with a scoff: “I have zero feelings for Mia, and I will never marry her. Now that I have a wife, she has no right to stay in my house. I’ll talk to Mom and Dad and have her pack her bags immediately. Don’t feel bad for her, Liam. Our family raised her for twenty years; we’ve more than repaid whatever debt we owed her.” Liam’s brow immediately furrowed in anger. He said sharply: “Brother, watch your mouth. Mia is a permanent member of the Sterling family. Absolutely no one has the right to tell her to leave!” Julian’s face instantly darkened with displeasure. [What kind of black magic did Mia use to brainwash Liam and the garbage parents?! They’d rather side with an outsider than the male lead!] [The male lead is the eldest son of the Sterling family! How dare Liam disrespect him for Mia?! He deserves his miserable death!] [Don’t be sad, guys! The male lead’s biological parents treat him like a king later! He doesn’t need this trash family or this trash brother! They only care about outsiders anyway!] Reading the floating comments, I let out a cold laugh in my head. Want to have your cake and eat it too, huh? Fine, you love your biological parents so much? I had already hired private investigators to track them down. Very soon, I’d reunite them for a beautiful, happy family reunion! 7 When my parents-in-law received the news that Julian was alive. They were overwhelmed with joy and immediately rushed home from the office. Julian and Chloe had already changed into expensive, luxurious designer clothes. They were sitting on the plush sofa, clinging to each other sickeningly. Liam and I sat on the opposite sofa, staring straight ahead, completely ignoring them. Chloe nervously twisted her fingers. “Julian, do you think your parents will hate me…?” Julian comforted her confidently. “My parents have always wanted a grandchild. Once they hear you’re carrying the Sterling family heir, they’ll love you unconditionally.” He then shot me an icy glare, letting out a dismissive scoff: “Don’t worry about her. She’s just a maid’s daughter. How could she possibly compete with the mother of the eldest Sterling grandson?” He turned his attention back to me. “I’m warning you, don’t even think about bullying Chloe. Otherwise, forget about me—even my parents won’t tolerate your existence in this house!” Chloe chimed in with her soft, breathy voice. “Julian, please. Her parents did serve your family for years. Even if they didn’t do anything spectacular, they worked hard…” Julian tilted his chin up, snorting coldly. “Her whole family is just a bunch of servants.” Liam’s face turned livid, and he opened his mouth to snap back. I grabbed his sleeve and shook my head gently. I had warned him earlier that no matter what garbage came out of Julian’s mouth today. He was to ignore it. He glared at me, aggressively yanking his sleeve out of my grip. He let out a cold huff and didn’t say anything else. But he aggressively turned his body away from me, radiating pure, unadulterated sulking energy. Living in the same room with Liam all this time. This was the very first time he had ever been genuinely mad at me. I actually found it quite novel, and honestly, kind of cute. As for Julian. He was just a pathetic clown with a fast-approaching expiration date. He wasn’t worth my energy. If our parents walked in and saw the brothers screaming at each other over me. It would only break their hearts. 8 Right on cue, the floating comments started scrolling rapidly across my vision again. [The evil female character obviously still can’t let go of the male lead. Even when he’s sitting there with another woman, she still instinctively protects him!] [She’s loved him for years, of course she doesn’t want Liam fighting with him! She’s only acting submissive now because the male lead is watching. The second he leaves, her jealousy will explode and she’ll start torturing the female lead!] Julian saw me hold Liam back, and a cold smirk crossed his face. He gave me a look that screamed, “I knew it.” He clearly shared the exact same delusions as those comments. I couldn’t be bothered to acknowledge him. Just then, the butler’s voice echoed from the hallway. “Mr. and Mrs. Sterling have arrived.” My in-laws were home. I put on a bright smile and stood up to greet them. But Julian violently shoved past me, shooting me a look of pure mockery. “Right now, the only thing my parents want to see is me, and their eldest grandson.” With that, he grabbed Chloe’s hand and marched out to meet them. Chloe followed timidly behind him, but the triumphant, ecstatic gleam in her eyes was impossible to hide. Liam stood next to me, his face as dark as a thundercloud. His fists were clenched so tight his knuckles were white. He looked ready to murder Julian. I grabbed his hand and gently shook my head at him. Our parents just got home. This isn’t the time to fight. Liam’s fury only intensified. He glared at me, clearly struggling to suppress his rage, and hissed: “He’s already replaced you with someone else, and you’re still protecting him?!” I opened my mouth, desperate to explain. But Liam had already stormed out of the room in a furious huff. I followed him out. I saw Julian shoot me a freezing look before leading Chloe directly up to my in-laws. “Mom, Dad. I’m home.” He immediately gestured to Chloe beside him, unable to wait another second: “This is Chloe. She’s carrying your grandchild.” “She is the only woman I will ever love. I am absolutely not marrying Mia.” “The only person who will ever be the lady of the Sterling house is Chloe.” Chloe offered them a picture-perfect, demure smile. “Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Sterling.” 9 The next second. My parents-in-law completely froze. They stared blankly at Julian and Chloe. Then, their eyes darted behind them, landing on me and Liam. Finally, they looked at each other, exhaled a simultaneous, massive sigh of relief. And broke into identical, radiant smiles. “Good. It’s wonderful that you’re back.” My mother-in-law took Chloe’s hand. She slipped an incredibly rare, hundred-thousand-dollar jade bangle off her own wrist. And slid it onto Chloe’s, smiling with genuine maternal warmth. “Such a sweet girl.” They had been agonizing over how to break the news to Julian. The news that I was already married to Liam. But now that Julian had brought home his own woman. It was the perfect, miraculous solution for everyone. As they walked into the main living room. Chloe looked absolutely thrilled, shooting Julian a look of pure worship. I even heard Julian cast a disdainful glance in my direction before whispering to Chloe: “I told you not to worry. The eldest grandson of the Sterling empire is infinitely more valuable to them than the daughter of some maid!” Chloe nodded eagerly, then added with fake concern, “But your sister… she’s so deeply in love with you. Will she hate me?”

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