Category: English

My brother was widely recognized as a great hero. In an operation to protect a hostage, he was stabbed multiple times by a criminal. At his memorial service, people poured in from all over the city to pay their respects. The hall was filled with the sound of weeping. My mom fainted from the grief and had to be carried away by paramedics for emergency care. I was his favorite younger sister. But right now, staring fixedly at his black-and-white memorial photo, I suddenly let out a laugh. Because my brother was currently sitting right in front of the altar with his legs spread wide, cursing up a storm: “How could you guys use my raw, unedited photo?! Chloe, you need to change it! Right! Now!” 1 The host was reading the solemn eulogy, detailing his heroic deeds in life. “Carter Miller. When faced with a deranged attacker, he voluntarily stepped forward and offered to trade himself for the hostage. Unexpectedly, the attacker was triggered by a bystander’s shout and lunged straight for the young child’s left thigh. In that critical moment, Carter was the first to dive forward, shielding the child in his arms. He took five stab wounds, every single one fatal…” The entire hall was solemn. A sea of people dressed in black packed the room. The sound of crying came in waves, one after another. My mom hadn’t been able to take it and had fainted. I was now the only family member left standing in the receiving line. Everyone looked at me with eyes full of sympathy, pity, and regret. “He sacrificed his life at the young age of twenty-seven,” the host concluded. I gave a side-eye to Carter himself. He was hovering off to the side, legs crossed, pointing an accusing finger at his memorial portrait. “Chloe! Are you trying to piss me off to death?! Oh wait, I’m already dead!” “I told you a million times, if I ever die, you MUST use my Facetuned photo!” “I used half a can of hair gel before I left the house that day! I maintained my image until the very end of my life, and you guys picked an unedited, raw photo for my funeral?!” He was spitting invisible saliva everywhere as he ranted. Only I could see him. I tried to hold it in, but I failed. My mouth twitched, and a short, abrupt laugh escaped my lips. “Pfft.” In a mourning hall filled with wailing, the sound was incredibly jarring. Everyone snapped their heads up in shock, staring at me in disbelief. Her biological brother is dead, and the sister is laughing at his funeral? It was an absurd scene. “Cough… cough…” I immediately pretended to have a violent coughing fit. Standing next to me was my brother’s best friend and colleague, Liam Hayes. His eyes were bloodshot, and he turned to look at me too. I quickly lowered my head and pinched my own thigh as hard as I could. It hurt so much that tears instantly sprang to my eyes. “Cough… cough, cough, cough!” I kept up the coughing act. “I… I’m just so heartbroken… I choked on my own breath…” A deeper look of heartache flashed through Liam’s eyes. Carter floated right up to my face. That semi-transparent visage was full of indignation, and he started whining to me like a brat. “Hey, my dear sister, I’m the main character today! Can’t you grant me this one tiny request? Besides, look down there—my high school crush is sitting in the third row!” I didn’t dare look up at him. I kept my head bowed, my shoulders trembling. Everyone thought I was sobbing uncontrollably. In reality, I was fighting for my life trying not to laugh. A hand rested gently on my shoulder. It was Liam. His voice was thick with emotion. “Chloe, if you need to cry, just let it out. Don’t hold it in…” 2 “Liam, you sneaky bastard, get your filthy paws off my sister’s shoulder!” “My body isn’t even cold yet, and you’re trying to make a move on my sister?!” “And what was that? Were you trying to give her a comforting head pat? I’m telling you, no way in hell!” While Carter threw a fit at Liam, he turned his head and yelled at me. “Chloe! You’re heartless too!” “I left you hundreds of thousands of dollars in the hero’s compensation fund, and you’re laughing at my funeral?!” I took a deep breath, looked up at Liam, and tried to look as devastated as possible. “Liam, I’m fine.” “But could you… do me a favor?” Liam immediately stood up straight. “Name it. I’d walk through fire for you.” I pointed at the memorial photo. “Can we change it?” Liam froze, needing a moment to process. “Change it? To what?” I gritted my teeth. “Change it to the one from his vacation in Miami. The one on the beach with the sunglasses.” Liam’s expression cycled through shock and grief a few hundred times in a single second. “The one where he’s wearing the hideous floral shirt, board shorts, and giving the camera the middle finger?!” He probably thought I had lost my mind. “Chloe… this picture we’re using is the most… dignified one your brother had.” “This is a formal memorial service. The mayor is here. The police chief is here…” “Screw dignified!” Carter was jumping up and down in frantic anger. “I don’t want dignified! I want to look hot!” I stared directly into Liam’s eyes, my tone dead serious. “I don’t care. It needs to be changed right now. My brother told me this is his one and only dying wish.” Liam reached out and touched my forehead with the back of his hand, then touched his own. “No fever. Have you actually lost your mind?” “My brother also said that if you don’t help him change it, he’ll visit everyone in your office in their dreams tonight. He’s going to tell them how you steal a roll of toilet paper from the company bathroom every day before you go home, and how you used the company’s color printer to print four massive SAT prep books for your nephew!” Liam stared at me with wide eyes, looking like he had literally just seen a ghost. “How… how do you know about that?” “Only your brother and I knew about that!” I kept a perfectly straight face. “Exactly. Because my brother just told me.” 3 The photo didn’t get changed in the end. After all, Carter’s actions as a heroic bystander had made headlines across the entire city. The mayor was there. The press was there. There was no way Liam or I had the guts to swap the memorial portrait for a guy in a floral shirt flipping the bird. Carter was so pissed he didn’t speak to me for the rest of the day. He just floated up to the ceiling beams, dangling his legs and looking completely dead inside. It wasn’t until that night that he finally broke. I was sitting on a bench in the hospital corridor, peeling an orange. Carter squatted next to me, staring longingly at the orange, and swallowed hard. It used to be his favorite fruit. “Just give me one slice. Just one.” He held out his hand. I peeled off a slice and handed it to him. The slice of orange passed right through his palm and hit the floor. Carter froze for a second, then his face crumpled into a grimace. “Forgot. I can’t eat this stuff anymore. When you visit my grave next week, leave some for me so I can absorb the essence.” I suddenly didn’t feel like talking. I picked up the fallen slice, blew the dust off it, and popped it into my mouth. It was a little sour. The tears I hadn’t shed over the past few days suddenly fell all at once. “Hey, hey, hey! Don’t cry!” Carter panicked, clumsily trying to wipe my tears. His fingers passed right through my cheeks, leaving behind a faint, icy chill. “It’s just an orange! I don’t even want it anymore, okay?” The hospital room door opened, and a nurse walked out. “Your mother is awake. You can go in now.” I wiped my eyes and pushed the door open. My mom lay on the bed, her face ashen. She looked like she had aged ten years in the span of a few days. The moment she saw me, tears slipped from the corners of her eyes and soaked into her pillow. “Chloe, your brother… is he really gone?” “Tell me… how much did it hurt him?” Carter reached out, wanting to hold Mom’s hand. But his hand passed right through the blanket, right through her skin, grasping nothing but air. It only left behind a draft of cold wind. My mom shivered and pulled the blanket tighter around herself. “Why is it so cold…” “He must have felt so cold when he left us.” Muttering to herself, my mom broke down into devastating sobs. Tears streamed through her fingers as she covered her face. Realizing he had only made it worse, Carter quickly pulled his hand back, looking completely lost. His eyes turned red, and he turned to me. “Chloe! Tell Mom I’m right here! Tell her it didn’t hurt! Tell her I’m doing great!” “Those stabs were so fast I didn’t even have time to process it before I died! It really didn’t hurt!” Mom couldn’t hear him. She only saw me standing there with a numb expression, staring into space (at Carter). The hospital room door was suddenly pushed open, and a crowd of relatives swarmed in. Uncle Dave sighed. “Chloe, this family is going to have to rely on you from now on.” “That’s right,” Aunt Sarah chimed in. “Your brother was a hero. You’re a hero’s sister. You can’t let him down.” Suddenly, Aunt Brenda lowered her voice. “Carter died a hero. That compensation fund from the city must be a massive payout, right? You two are just a widow and a young girl now. You need to keep it safe. Don’t let outsiders scam you out of it.” My mom was still crying, completely oblivious to what was being said. I glared at my aunt. What was she trying to pull? Carter floated right up to Aunt Brenda’s face, circling her and yelling in her ear. “That money is for my sister and my mom! When my dad died, you completely dodged the fifteen grand you owed him! Pay us back! Pay us back! Pay us back!” I asked her coldly, “Aunt Brenda, what exactly are you trying to do?” “Chloe, what kind of attitude is that? I’m just looking out for you!” “Think about it. Your brother is gone, your mom’s health is failing. Is it really safe for a young girl like you to be holding onto such a massive sum of money?” “What if some bad guy tricks you out of it?” “What I’m saying is, let your Aunt Brenda hold onto it for you. I’ll invest it. When you get married, I’ll give it back to you as your dowry…” Carter let out a furious laugh. “Bullshit! I traded my life for that money, and you’re already scheming to steal it?!” I scoffed out loud. “Hold onto it for me? You mean put it toward the down payment for your son’s new house?” Aunt Brenda’s face changed. “Watch your mouth, young lady! I am your elder!” Carter hovered right in front of her, pointing at her nose. “Elder my ass! You think because there are fewer people in our family now, you can just throw away all your shame?!” Aunt Sarah and Uncle Dave stepped in, shielding my mom from Aunt Brenda. “Brenda, give it a rest. Carter just passed away. If you had an ounce of conscience, you wouldn’t be bringing this up right now.” My mom went limp again, unable to speak, sinking back into the mattress. Seeing my mom stay silent, Aunt Brenda grew even bolder. She actually reached for the purse sitting on the nightstand. “Martha, the bank cards are in here, right? What’s the PIN? We’re family, it’s not like I’d ever hurt you.” Rage rushed to my head. I shoved Aunt Brenda hard. Taking advantage of the push, Aunt Brenda dramatically threw herself onto the floor and started throwing a massive tantrum. “Ouch! She hit me! A niece hitting her elder!” “Carter is dead, you have no one to back you up anymore! It was bad enough you guys were stingy before, but now you dare bully your poor relatives?!” “I can’t live like this!” Carter was shaking with absolute fury. For the past few days, he had been entirely semi-transparent, but right now, a faint red glow began to emanate from his form. His body was slowly becoming more substantial. “Trying to touch my sister? Over my dead body!” Aunt Brenda’s cursing grew even more vicious on the floor. “That short-lived brat Carter! Did he forget his dad died trying to be a hero too?! I told him a million times to mind his own business!” “Look what happened! Threw his life away!” “Serves him right!” “He’s just cursed! A curse to his parents!” Before she could finish her sentence. Smash! A loud crash echoed through the room. The water glass on the nightstand had seemingly thrown itself onto the floor, shattering right next to Aunt Brenda’s feet. I watched as Carter rushed to the window and began furiously gesturing at the tightly locked latch. Even though he couldn’t touch physical objects, everywhere he moved left behind a trail of freezing air. And perhaps fueled by his explosive rage… Bang! Whoosh! The window violently flew open. Freezing wind howled into the room. The overhead lights began to flicker wildly. On and off. On and off. Aunt Brenda’s wailing stopped instantly. She stared in horror at the window that had opened by itself. She was sitting far away from it, yet she felt a bone-chilling draft blowing directly onto the back of her neck. Because Carter was hovering directly behind her, his face dark as thunder, intentionally flying back and forth through her body. “Aunt Brenda… is the money you leached from our family fun to spend?” “Keep talking trash, and I’ll visit your house every single night to terrorize you!” “Aunt Brenda, I’m so cold… how about I borrow some of your life force to warm up…” Aunt Brenda couldn’t hear him, but she started shivering uncontrollably. She instinctively grabbed her own neck, her teeth chattering loudly. I stared at her with ice in my eyes. “Aunt Brenda, are you cold? My brother is standing right behind you.” “He says if anyone dares to target me and my mom, he’ll take my cousin down to hell to keep him company.” “After all, he died with a lot of resentment.” Aunt Brenda screamed in sheer terror. She scrambled off the floor on her hands and knees and bolted out of the hospital room. “GHOST!!!” Peace returned to the room. The lights stabilized. Aunt Sarah tucked the blankets tightly around my mom and turned to me. “Chloe, don’t worry. You’re the sister of a hero now. They won’t dare try anything.” Uncle Dave nodded in agreement. “Exactly. If you ever have trouble, you call me. I’ll bring your two cousins over, and we’ll see if she tries to use force on you!” I gave a bitter, strained smile. “What hero’s sister? I’m not that noble. My brother was just a guy working a nine-to-five. If I had a choice, I would have rather he been a coward!” Carter looked as if he had expended every ounce of his energy. He had become even more transparent than before. He collapsed onto the floor, panting heavily. My heart tightened. While Aunt Sarah and Uncle Dave were busy comforting my mom, I lowered my voice and whispered. “Carter! Are you okay?” Between gasps, Carter squeezed out a few words. “I’m fine… just suddenly felt really tired. Lost my steam.” “Was that cool just now?” “Did I give off main-character-in-a-horror-movie vibes?” I rolled my eyes at him. Uncle Dave and Aunt Sarah slipped a silver coin under my mom’s pillow. It was an old family superstition—putting a silver coin under a sick person’s pillow would help them recover faster. Carter gathered his strength, floated back over to my mom, and gave her an invisible hug. Watching his futile gestures made my chest ache. I turned and walked out of the room to fill the thermos with hot water. Carter followed me, floating right by my ear, whispering secretively. “Chloe, let me tell you a secret. I have a secret stash of money!” “Go home and look under the insoles of the autographed sneakers on my display shelf. There’s a debit card there. The PIN is your birthday. I was saving up to buy you a car, but I guess it won’t be enough now.” “Go take it out. Buy Mom a nice massage chair first.” “Use the rest to get yourself some spa treatments. Look how haggard you’ve gotten these past few days, tsk tsk. You’re a hero’s sister now, you need to look beautiful when you cry for the cameras.” I held the thermos, gripping the edge of the sink. “Carter, shut up.” “What? What’s with the attitude!” Carter floated next to me, playing with the steam rising from the hot water. “Why haven’t you moved on?” I turned to look at him, at his childishly playful profile. “They say if a spirit still has lingering attachments, they can’t move on.” “Carter, what is your lingering attachment?” 4 My brother froze. His usual goofy grin flickered in the air for a second. His eyes darted around, and he leaned back in mid-air, shoving his face close to mine with exaggerated dramatic flair. “Oh no! You caught me!” “Of course I have one! That anime I was watching—the author is dragging it out so much, I never got to see the finale!” I curled my lip and rolled my eyes. “Just because of that?” Carter righted himself, doing a half-twirl in the air. “Well… obviously there’s more than that!” He cleared his throat, pointed a finger at me, and started lecturing. “The main reason is you!” “Me?” “Duh! Look at what a mess you are!” Carter drifted back a bit to look me up and down. “Chloe, look at yourself. You’re a young woman in her twenties, and you haven’t washed your hair in days, have you?” “And this outfit—I don’t remember you owning a gray hoodie? Wait, is that your white hoodie, just stained with a layer of grime?” He dramatically covered his nose. “How can I, a remarkably handsome and dashing brother, rest in peace knowing I have such a slob for a sister?” If this were the past, I would have already taken off my shoe and hurled it at his head. He would have yelled playfully while catching my weapon with one hand, looking incredibly smug about it. I looked down at the hoodie I was wearing. It really was filthy. “Chloe? Hello! Did you go mute?” “Alright, alright… I’m not actually judging you. I just think… you need to pull yourself together.” His voice grew quieter. “Carter, did you forget you don’t even have a physical body anymore?” I snapped back at him. “I’ll wear whatever I want, and I’ll wash my hair whenever I want. Try and force me to wash it, I dare you.” Hearing me snap at him, Carter visibly let out a sigh of relief. “Heh! You little brat. Give you an inch and you take a mile.” “Carter, if you hadn’t jumped in to take that knife… would you regret it?” Carter suddenly fell quiet. After a long time, he rubbed his nose and offered a strained smile. “Regret it? Yeah, of course I’d regret it.” “When the first knife went in, it really fucking hurt.” “I was thinking, my little Chloe isn’t even married yet. Mom hasn’t gotten to hold a grandchild yet. I barely even got to wear those sneakers I saved up forever to buy…” “But, you know…” He shrugged. “That kid was right behind me, crying so hard his voice was gone.” “If I hadn’t shielded him, the rest of those stabs would have gone right into him.” “He was what, seven? Eight? He was so tiny.” “When Dad died, his last words were that sometimes, reacting to danger is just pure instinct. I used to wonder how our dad, who was just a regular factory worker, could be so brave.” He suddenly slapped his thigh. “Ah, whatever, let’s not talk about it! It’s in the past! I’m doing great right now! I don’t have to wake up early for work, I don’t have to revise proposals because the client is an idiot, and I can supervise you 24/7!” His tone suddenly turned a little pleading. “Chloe, when you have time, can you go check on that kid for me? Honestly, if I had been just one second faster, he wouldn’t even have…” The fact that he was able to say it out loud finally lifted the heavy stone off my chest. I nodded at him.

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I couldn’t help myself. Watching the live stream, I tapped the screen and sent fifty virtual supercars—a five-thousand-dollar flex in a matter of seconds. I expected a thank you, or at least a smile. Instead, Preston blew up. He sent me a scathing text, threatening to end things—again. As I sat there, reeling from the confusion, glowing lines of text suddenly began to drift across my vision like a digital hallucination—a live commentary on my own life. [Is this bitch for real? Does she think having a trust fund and paying for the lead’s tuition gives her the right to own him? Dropping those cars was a total power move to humiliate him. Such a desperate, territorial move.] [No wonder he’s pissed. Our sweet Daisy finally worked up the courage to send him her first ‘Rose’—a literal symbol of her pure love—and this rich girl just had to swoop in and drown it out with her tacky display of wealth.] [Old money, new money, it doesn’t matter. Women like her will never understand. A single rose might only cost a dime, but to him, it’s worth infinitely more than a dozen Ferraris bought with daddy’s credit card.] [When is Preston finally going to make enough from his streaming group to dump this nightmare socialite? I’m dying for him and Daisy to finally start their ‘struggling artists in love’ arc! Ugh!] I froze. The truth hit me with the force of a physical blow. I wasn’t the leading lady in this story. I was the obstacle. The “Other Woman.” The villainous ex-girlfriend standing in the way of a fated romance. Every gift, every cent I’d spent on him, wasn’t a gesture of love. In his eyes—and the eyes of the “audience”—it was an insult. Fine. I nodded to the empty room, a cold clarity settling over me. I accepted the breakup. I turned my back on the man I’d spent three years bankrolling and set my sights on his teammate instead. Later, I didn’t even blink when I dropped five hundred “Universe” gifts on his rival’s stream. Preston, watching from the sidelines, completely lost it. In front of his entire following, with his eyes bloodshot and voice cracking, he begged me for a second chance. 1 It took me a long time to process what was happening. In the narrative of this world, Preston was the “Hero.” Daisy, my roommate, was the “Heroine.” And me? I was the “Rich Girl Villain”—the one who had been foolishly pouring her heart and bank account into a man who secretly despised her. As I sat there dazed, the floating comments continued to flicker with indignation. [God, poor Daisy. She skipped dinner for three nights just to save up enough for that digital rose. I’m literally crying for her.] [The villain is so toxic. Preston told her a thousand times not to be so flashy, but she just has to show off. She made poor Daisy feel so small she probably cried herself to sleep.] [They’re both kids from the same small town, chasing the American Dream together. Only they can truly save each other.] [The villain might have helped him win the streaming battle, but look at his face. He’s not smiling. He’s just thinking about how much Daisy is hurting.] [The script was supposed to be: They share a secret glance of love amidst the crowd. This bitch ruined their first real moment!] I closed my eyes, trying to clear the static from my brain. This “plot” was absurd, but the reality was undeniable. If this was the truth of his heart, I was done playing the role of the benevolent benefactor. “Why aren’t you saying anything? Trying to ignore me again?” Preston’s voice barked through the phone, pulling me back to the present. “Daisy has a lot of pride. She’s probably hiding somewhere crying right now. If you want to keep this relationship, you go to her and apologize. Once she forgives you, then maybe we can talk.” I didn’t hesitate. “Okay,” I said. Thinking he might misunderstand, I added firmly, “I agree. Let’s break up.” “Then get over there and apologize! Be sincere for once—” Preston started, his voice overlapping mine. He stopped mid-sentence as my words finally registered. “Wait, what? Blair, what is this? Another one of your little tantrums?” I cut him off, my voice steady. “I said, you wanted a breakup. You’ve got it. We’re done.” The silence on the other end lasted three full seconds. Then, he let out a sharp, condescending laugh. “Fine. Great. Have it your way. Keep acting out, Blair. But don’t come crawling back when you realize I’m actually serious this time. I’m done with your drama.” I didn’t want to argue. I just gave a muffled “Mm-hmm” and moved to hang up. Before I could, his voice came through the receiver, a low, venomous threat. “Think carefully, Blair. Don’t call me crying tomorrow begging for another chance!” 2 I didn’t bother responding. I never knew how to love “correctly,” I suppose. My version of love was simple: if I cared for someone, I wanted them to have the best of everything. I thought Preston was struggling, that he needed the money, that he was only doing these group streams—something he used to call “beneath him”—out of necessity. Now I knew. To him, my money was just a shallow, golden cage. The moment the call ended, I paged my housekeeper and told her to go to the local drugstore and buy two of those massive, cheap plastic moving bags. All the luggage in this apartment was custom-made, hand-stitched leather. Preston didn’t deserve to touch them. I watched as the housekeeper packed his things. I made sure she didn’t include a single designer item I’d bought him—those were too “vain” and might “hurt his fragile pride.” I looked around the penthouse. It was in the heart of the city, every square inch costing more than most people made in a year. I had decorated it ourselves, tailoring every detail to Preston’s tastes. If I had known he felt “humiliated” living here every day, I would have let the unit sit empty. I felt a surge of anger, but my eyes betrayed me, stinging with tears. Three years. You don’t just switch off three years of feelings, no matter how much of a bastard the guy turned out to be. He had threatened to leave a dozen times before, but this was the first time I was the one walking away. As I packed, the comments flared up again. [Why isn’t the villain apologizing yet? Does she think this silent treatment will work on him? So manipulative.] [Is she seriously acting like she’s moving out? She’s so obsessed with him, she’d die before she actually let him go.] [If her family didn’t have money, would a guy like Preston even look at her? He only stayed because she paid his tuition at the acting conservatory. She bought his time, not his heart.] [She’ll never understand that every cent she spent on him felt like a slap in the face. He despises her ‘charity.’] [He hates the ‘capitalist filth.’ He dreams of a tiny, one-bedroom apartment with Daisy. Simple meals, three seasons, four directions. That’s real happiness. The villain will never get it.] I tried to ignore them, but the sheer delusion was suffocating. If Preston hated my family’s help so much, he shouldn’t have accepted the tuition. He shouldn’t have accepted the black card. He was the one who pursued me for an entire year when we first met. He was a scholarship student from a small town; I was a girl with a trust fund that could buy the town. I had paid for everything. His fifty-thousand-dollar-a-year allowance, his skincare, his wardrobe, his travel for auditions. I never made him ask. I just put the money in his account because I wanted him to focus on his “art.” In return, he kept me a secret at school. He said he didn’t want people thinking he was a “gold digger.” He refused to be seen with me in the cafeteria or the library. He chose streaming because it was “quick money,” but every time I supported him with a gift, he acted like I’d spit on his grave. It all made sense now. My support was his “burden.” My love was his “humiliation.” Fine. Let him be free. I was sitting on the floor, crying despite myself, when the front door clicked open. Preston stood there, his face tight with fury. 3 “Blair, what is this?” He pointed at the cheap plastic bags in the foyer, his voice trembling with suppressed rage. Oh. I forgot to change the door code. He saw my tears and his expression softened into a look of weary annoyance. He rubbed his temples. “It’s five in the morning. I just finished a ten-hour stream. I’m exhausted. Stop with the theatrics.” He started to walk past me, carrying the limited-edition designer duffel I’d given him for his birthday. I stood up and blocked his path. The comments surged: [Look at her, trying the ‘breakup’ move to get his attention. We all know she’s terrified he’ll actually leave.] [He’s not falling for it. She could crawl on her knees and he’d still choose Daisy. Their love is pure.] I cleared my throat, wiping my face. “Your things are packed. The bags are by the door. You can check them if you want.” “Give me the car keys,” I added. “And I’m changing the codes. As for the money I’ve spent on you… consider it a donation to the needy. I spend more on my dog’s grooming anyway. I think we’re done here. Blocked and deleted.” Preston’s greatest weakness was his “high self-esteem”—or what I now recognized as fragile ego. My words hit him like a physical barrier. He looked at me with pure disbelief. “Blair, you’re really going to blow this out of proportion?” he sneered. “Have you thought about the consequences?” “I think I was pretty clear on the phone,” I said, my voice finally finding its cold edge. “We’re over.” He laughed, a bitter, mocking sound. “Do you realize that because you wouldn’t apologize, Daisy cried all night? I had to drive to her dorm after my stream just to sit with her. You have no idea what you’ve done, do you? But that’s you. Always the same.” He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a hiss. “To you, fifty supercars is just the price of a Chanel bag. You have a closet full of them, so it means nothing. But Daisy… she skipped three days of meals just to support me. Do you know how many shifts she had to work at the tea shop to save that money? And you just had to mock her. You had to drop fifty cars right after she sent her rose.” “You’re a spoiled little princess who knows nothing of the real world,” he spat. “That’s why I’m angry.” I was stunned. The streaming studio was an hour away from Daisy’s dorm. He finished at 2 AM and drove all that way to “comfort” her? And he still claimed they were “just friends”? I didn’t even know which account was Daisy’s. I didn’t know their “digital rose” was some sacred ritual. I only stepped in because he was losing the “Live Battle” and I didn’t want him to look bad. I wanted to scream all of this at him. But looking at his self-righteous face, I just felt… tired. Preston saw I wasn’t responding and, in a fit of pique, grabbed the plastic bags and headed for the elevator. Before the doors closed, he threw one last line at me: “Blair, remember this. You’re the one who pushed me to her.” 4 I didn’t understand. He was the one who asked for the breakup. Now it was my fault for “pushing” him? It was always like this. He was the saint; I was the sinner. My kindness was “hatred,” and my help was a “seed of resentment.” I lay in bed as the sun began to peek through the curtains, tossing and turning. I pulled up my phone. At 6:30 AM, Daisy had posted a new update on social media. “Thank you for never giving up on me. Thank you for understanding my heart. And thank you to a certain someone for finally giving you back to me.” The photo was a “Live” shot in front of a floor-to-ceiling window at a five-star hotel. In the reflection, you could see the city lights. In the foreground, Daisy was wrapped in a passionate embrace with a man. He was shirtless, his back to the camera, but I knew those shoulders anywhere. Daisy was in a sheer lace nightgown, Preston’s arms wrapped tightly around her waist. The “Live” photo captured the movement of the kiss—lingering, hungry, and far from “just friends.” Strangely, I wasn’t even angry. I just felt a wave of nausea. How did I ever fall for this ungrateful parasite? The comments were throwing a party. [OMG! The sugar! My ship has sailed!] [Finally, they belong to each other. No more obstacles.] [We have to thank the villain. Her jealousy finally made the lead realize he couldn’t live without Daisy.] [He’s going to work so hard now to give her a future. True love wins!] I didn’t feel like crying anymore. I felt like doing math. If they wanted to “work hard” and “rely on themselves,” why was the bill for that twenty-thousand-dollar-a-night presidential suite being charged to the black card I’d given him? I looked closer at the photo. On the nightstand, “accidentally” caught in the frame, was a custom Hermes handbag. My handbag. The one my mother gave me for my birthday. Preston probably thought I had so many I wouldn’t notice one missing. I called my assistant. “Cancel the black card I gave Preston. Effective immediately.”

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I was born with congenital insensitivity to pain—no pain receptors. My sister, Sally, was a butterfly baby. Her skin was paper-thin, prone to tearing with the slightest bump. To protect her, my older brother, Link, used me to set the rules. Every. Single. Time. I tried to fight it, of course. But Link would always wear me down with the same pleading, world-weary tone. “Maya, Sally is adopted. We can’t just outright punish her, even for the sake of appearances.” He would sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Besides, she has EB. She’s fragile, nothing like you! You can’t feel it anyway. Just treat it like a bad scene in a movie. It’ll be over before you know it.” When Sally ran off in a crowded mall, Link broke my leg in front of her. When Sally played with an X-Acto knife, Link cut off five of my fingers, then had a surgeon reattach them one by one. Later, Sally started dating a boy named Jax, a rebellious type, and ran away from home with him. When Link dragged her back, he carved gashes into my body and threw me into the private marine enclosure he had built for his sharks. Three gray shapes circled me. I begged Link for help, but he was only focused on lecturing Sally. “You do the crime, you do the time,” he said, his voice flat. “Run away again, and I’ll throw her in again.” Sally’s legs gave out from under her. She collapsed to her knees, bruising the delicate skin. Link instantly scooped her up, his face etched with agonizing concern. He turned to leave, holding her tight. I cried out, pleading with him to pull me out first, but he never looked back. He forgot. Insensitivity to pain isn’t the same as immortality. You can still bleed out. … “Link, please! Save me!” Blood, thick and hot, poured continuously from the wound on my shoulder. The metallic, pungent smell of it excited the three sharks, making them circle faster. I thrashed against the water, terrified, trying to swim toward the steel ladder bolted to the side. I gripped a rung, but Link’s knife—he always carried a heavy utility knife—flashed again, severing my grip with a cut across my knuckles. I forced myself not to let go, clenching my fist around the smooth metal. But the intensifying scent of my blood sent one of the sharks into a frenzy. It snapped its jaws onto my calf and pulled, dragging me back into the churning water. “Maya!” Sally’s scream was raw, shredded. She instinctively reached a hand out toward me, desperate to pull me back. Link caught her waist, pulling her back. “Don’t move. You can’t swim.” “Link.” Sally dropped to the wet concrete, ignoring the scrapes blooming on her knees. “I’m sorry, I was wrong. I won’t ever run away again. Please, let Maya out.” She was sobbing hysterically, her forehead striking the floor with sickening, repetitive thuds. “Sally, stop it! Are you insane?” Link yanked her up. “You know your condition! You can’t knock your head like that, you’ll injure yourself.” He scanned her body frantically, and sure enough, found a small, dark bruise forming just above her knee. His eyes immediately reddened with sharp, overwhelming panic. He lifted her fully into his arms. “If you don’t behave, I’ll let out Big White, too.” Big White was his most aggressive shark, the one he’d personally purchased from a research facility when it was scheduled for euthanasia after a human incident. Sally went instantly silent, shivering in his arms. Link seemed satisfied with her reaction. He walked toward the exit, his strides long and purposeful. “Link, help me. Please. I can’t hold on.” As he neared the door, I spent my last bit of strength on one final, desperate cry. He paused. A fleeting shadow of genuine tension crossed his face. But as he looked down, his eyes caught the tiny, fingernail-sized cut on Sally’s forehead. His focus snapped. He turned his head slightly, speaking back to me without meeting my eyes. “Every time I punish you, you intentionally give up right before the end. Can you, for once, act like the older sister you’re supposed to be? Set an example. You don’t want her ending up with a body full of scars, do you?” Then he was gone. He never looked back. My heart sank with his retreating footsteps. A realization clawed its way into my mind. Link doesn’t want me anymore. No. It couldn’t be true. Link told me it was always an act. Just a show. He would come back for me. He had to. All I had to do was be a little more pathetic. Sally had to be a little more scared. Then he’d be pleased. Then he’d look at me. I shouted for help a few more times, and then my body was violently wrenched backward. I looked down. One of the sharks had torn my entire left forearm from my body. Blood flushed the water, turning the enclosure into a dizzying swirl of scarlet. The horrifying sight shocked my heart into near-failure. Survival instinct screamed at me. I had to get out. I swam desperately toward the ladder. By some miracle, I actually made it past the three sharks and caught the handle. I scrambled onto the concrete, delirious with relief. I took two stumbling steps before a shark launched itself clean out of the water behind me. It clamped down on my other calf and, with a violent tug, dragged me back into the dark depths. I fought and struggled, but I was no match for its power. Salty water flooded my nasal cavity, then my throat, slowly filling my lungs. My breathing faltered. My strength evaporated. The edges of my vision faded to black. When I next woke up, I realized I could breathe underwater. I was about to wonder if I had suddenly developed some kind of superpower when I noticed the ragged remnants of my own body nearby. The three sharks were feasting on me like a gourmet meal. First, the gnawing on the arms, then the belly tearing open, and finally, one swallowed my head whole. It was then I understood. I was dead. I watched the sharks feed for a while, found it boring, and went home. Link’s personal physician, Dr. Miles Corbin, had already finished checking Sally. He told Link her knee scrapes were minor, but she still needed to be careful. Link’s visibly tight chest finally loosened. I floated in front of him and tried to say his name. He didn’t respond. He turned to look at Sally, who was sitting silently on the sofa. I remembered then. The living can’t see the dead. Sally was no longer crying, but her eyes were glazed and empty. Dr. Corbin was a long-time acquaintance of Link’s. He had heard about the nature of the punishment as soon as he arrived. He sighed, shaking his head. “Wasn’t that a bit extreme, Link?” Link scoffed. “She won’t listen otherwise. Running off with that punk, Jax? You know how dangerous the world is for her, Miles.” “But throwing Maya in the tank? What if the sharks had lost control and actually hurt her?” “You don’t have to worry about her,” Link said dismissively. “You forget, those three are usually docile. They never attack people. Plus, I had a guard watching the monitors. If there was any real danger, he was supposed to pull her out immediately.” I froze. Did your security guard really watch the monitors, Link? Why didn’t anyone come when I was being eaten? Link’s only real hobby was his sharks. He’d built the enclosure—larger than some public aquariums—just for them. They had dedicated keepers, a professional animal doctor for checkups, and their feeder fish were flown in from overseas. Because they were raised in captivity, the three sharks were usually placid and had never shown aggression toward people. Link had assured me of this before the “punishment.” But he forgot one crucial detail. The day Sally ran away, Link started planning this punishment. He had specifically instructed the keepers not to feed the sharks for an entire week, all to ensure they looked aggressive for the show. But animals are just animals. Starved for that long, they no longer cared if the food they were given was human or otherwise. Dr. Corbin frowned. “Even so, she’s a young woman, and she was bleeding heavily. You know how blood affects sharks. What if one of them took a bite?” “They wouldn’t take a fatal bite,” Link snapped, growing impatient. “You’re forgetting Maya has insensitivity to pain. She wouldn’t feel it, even if they tore her leg off. All that screaming? It was just part of the act.” Dr. Corbin was silent, his expression a mix of concern and pity. He finally sighed and told Link he shouldn’t be so cruel; after all, I was his own sister. Link lowered his head, considering. “You’re right. I’m going to—” Before he could finish, Sally stood up, seemingly recovered. “I’m going to bring my sister back,” she announced. Link’s face darkened. “Stay put!” Sally flinched. “Why?” “You were gone for seven days,” Link stated. “The punishment must last seven hours. That’s the rule.” He was lying. There was no such family rule. He only said it because he saw that Sally was no longer sufficiently scared, so he had to increase the severity of the lesson. All he wanted was to terrify her into realizing the gravity of her mistake. Link was eight years older than me. In my mind, he was both father and mother. When I was eight, our parents died in a car accident. Our relatives, eager to snatch the estate, used various means to drive Link and me out of the house. The same day we were abandoned, we found Sally, also abandoned. To provide for us, sixteen-year-old Link dropped out of school. He fought in underground boxing matches, delivered takeout, and hauled concrete. Because all his time was spent earning money, Sally and I were left to care for each other. But Sally’s Epidermolysis Bullosa was extremely rare. The slightest touch would break her skin. Broken skin meant a trip to the hospital, and hospital visits cost money. Link was constantly stressed. He ran out of patience and repeatedly warned Sally not to be reckless. Warnings worked once or twice, but eventually, she stopped listening. One day, Link yelled at Sally, and she ignored him. I laughed beside him, and he hit me instead. Sally was terrified that time. She cried hysterically and apologized. From that day on, Link learned the method of “killing the chicken to scare the monkey.” I was the chicken. Sally was the monkey. At first, Link would apologize after hitting me. He’d tenderly apply antiseptic, hold me, and cry. “Maya, money is so hard to earn. I just don’t have enough to keep taking Sally to the hospital,” he’d plead. “If you take the beating, she’ll behave. Just bear with it, alright? I’ll try not to hit you so hard next time.” Knowing the impossible burden he carried, I lied. I told him I had congenital insensitivity to pain. That no matter what he did, I wouldn’t feel a thing. I only did it to ease his guilt. But later, even my lie stopped scaring Sally for long. Even when Link knocked me unconscious, she only stayed terrified for a short while. So, he escalated. Sally ran off? Break my leg. She played with a sharp object? Cut off my fingers. In his mind, I couldn’t feel it. All he had to do was get the bones or fingers reattached. Until today, when I was eaten alive. He wanted Sally to watch with her own eyes. He wanted her to be so afraid that she would never hurt herself again. I knew that in the beginning, Link’s cruelty was motivated by fear of financial ruin. But later, even when he had money, he had invested so much more time and emotional energy into Sally than me. He had developed a deep, complicated attachment. Perhaps he never even noticed. In his heart, Sally had become more important than me. Sally kept looking at her watch. The moment Link’s arbitrary seven hours were up, she pulled him toward the marine enclosure. “Link, it’s seven hours. You have to let Maya out now.” He allowed himself to be dragged along, feigning annoyance. “What’s the rush? Your sister isn’t going anywhere.” But when the enclosure door opened and the heavy, metallic smell of blood spilled out, Link and Sally both froze at the sight of the tank. After a long pause, Sally’s voice trembled. “Link, where’s Maya? Why is she gone?” She scurried around the edge of the pool, desperately searching for any sign of me. Link, however, recovered quickly. He walked onto the platform, scanned the ground, and called Sally’s name. “Sally, come here.” She rushed to his side. “Look.” Link pointed to two bloody footprints on the platform. “See? These must be Maya’s. She got out and left already.” “Really?” Sally watched the footprints, still shaking. “Then where is she now?” Link hesitated. “She must have gone to the hospital. She always handles her own injuries.” It was true. Unlike Sally, because I claimed not to feel pain, I always quietly limped or stumbled to the ER alone, no matter how severe the injury. Sally pleaded with Link to take her to the hospital to find me. “Please, Link. If I don’t see Maya tonight, I won’t be able to sleep.” Link, softened by her tears, glanced back at the water, a flicker of genuine worry in his eyes. “Fine.” He patted her head affectionately and pulled out his phone to call the kitchen. “We’re going to the hospital to see Maya! Even though she got lazy and gave up on the punishment early again, she must be hungry after running off like that. Let’s go check on her.” I floated above them, numb. I don’t think I can feel hunger anymore, Link. But before they could leave, the housekeeper rushed in. “Sir, there’s a young man with blonde hair at the gate. He insists on seeing Miss Sally.” Link’s face went immediately dark. He strode toward the door, and I followed, curious. Standing at the gate was Jax, the rebellious ex-boyfriend who had helped Sally run away. The moment he saw Link, he started yelling. “Give Sally back! You can’t keep her locked up!” Link’s eyes narrowed. “How did you find this place?” “This address isn’t hard to get,” Jax retorted, holding his chin up. “You sick bastard. Why are you trying to break us up? Sally and I are in love.” Link slowly turned his head to Sally, who was standing behind him. His voice was frighteningly calm. “Sally, are you two ‘in love’?” Anyone who knew Link understood: the calmer his voice, the more terrifying his rage. Sally immediately backed down, shaking her head frantically. “No, no, we’re not.” Then she shouted at Jax. “Jax, just go! I don’t want to be with you anymore.” Jax’s eyes widened in disbelief. “No! Sally, is he making you say that? Come with me…” His hand hadn’t even touched Sally before Link seized his arm and brutally snapped it. Link kicked Jax away like garbage, then addressed the guards. “Get him off the property.” Jax was dragged away, screaming in pain. Sally was shaking violently. She followed Link back to the living room, still fixated on me. “Link, I swear I won’t see him again. Let’s go find Maya.” “Don’t you dare bring her up.” Link’s face was a mask of disgust. “I was just feeling guilty and was going to bring her dinner, and she immediately gave this psycho our address! No wonder she got out so fast. She probably planned it the moment I threw her in.” “It’s shameful. When will she finally grow up and stop using these childish tricks to compete for attention?” Sally’s face went white. “No, that’s not it. I…” She wanted to admit she was the one who told Jax, but she swallowed the words. She knew admitting it or not, the person Link punished would always be me. Jax’s appearance rekindled Link’s fury. But since I wasn’t there, he wouldn’t lash out at Sally. Instead, he ordered his people to go to every hospital in the city to find and bring me back. He sent Sally to her room and headed to his private gym to hit the punching bag and vent his physical energy. Halfway through his workout, the housekeeper came back. Link looked up. “Did you find Maya?” The housekeeper reported that there was still no word on me. She had come to tell Link that the keepers said the sharks seemed sick. The three of them were lethargic and weren’t eating. Link adored his sharks. Hearing this, he rushed to the enclosure and immediately called the animal doctors to come check them out. Sally, who couldn’t sleep, heard the commotion and followed. Half an hour later, the three sharks were tranquilized and immobile. Several animal doctors, equipped with portable sonar probes, climbed into the water. When they scanned the first shark’s abdomen, every one of them gasped in horror. They scrambled back onto the platform and ran toward Link, stumbling and panicked. “M-Mr. Sterling…” they stammered, out of breath. “What did you feed them? One of the sharks has—” “—a human head inside!”

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As the holidays approached, our company held its annual awards banquet. Everyone else received a hefty year-end bonus, but me? The top sales rep? I just got a piece of paper. To be exact, it was a contract transferring the title of “Corporate CEO & Legal Figurehead” to my name. My boss, Richard Vance, patted my shoulder, his face plastered with a hypocritical smile. “Ethan, I’ve always seen immense potential in you!” “Keep up the hard work in the new year, and I guarantee you’ll take home more money than anyone else by the end of it.” “Come on, sign this document. From today on, you are the official face of the company. You’ll even get a cut of the equity dividends at the end of the year. No other employee gets this kind of VIP treatment!” I stared at him coldly, forcibly suppressing the urge to introduce the sole of my shoe to his doughy face. If I hadn’t secretly overheard his conversation earlier, I might have actually fallen for his bullshit! The company’s financial black hole was getting bigger by the day. Handing me the CEO title right now? He was clearly setting me up to be his scapegoat. Since you want to play dirty, Richard, don’t blame me for playing dirtier. 1 In the executive office, Richard leaned back in his plush leather chair, a cigar clamped between his teeth, smiling amiably at me. “Ethan, your contributions to the company this year have been massive. It’s obvious to everyone.” “So, the board has decided to give you the ultimate reward.” “Once you become the legal CEO, you’ll be part of the executive inner circle. From now on, any major company decisions will have to go through you first…” Richard talked a big game, trying to dazzle me with a pie-in-the-sky pitch. I really, really wanted to expose him right to his face and slap my resignation letter across his desk. Just yesterday, I returned to the office after meeting a client. I was planning to go straight to Richard’s office to give him a progress report, but my stomach acted up, so I hit the restroom first. While in a stall, I overheard Richard talking on his phone near the sinks. He spoke with dripping contempt: “Ethan is just a dog I keep on a leash!” “I tell him to jump, he asks how high. As long as I throw him a bone and stroke his ego, he’ll work himself to death for me like a rented mule.” “He’s no ‘top sales rep.’ He just knows a few buzzwords and has a slick tongue. He flirts with the clients, and they hand him the contracts. Even without him, I could send a monkey in a suit to close those deals.” “Ethan doesn’t even have a college degree. His education is a joke. If he wasn’t so easy to manipulate, and if he didn’t constantly refuse to ask for a raise, I’d never hire trash like him!” “Our financial loopholes are about to blow up in our faces. At the next board meeting, those investors are definitely going to demand an audit. It’s going to be a disaster.” “So, I’m going to transfer the legal CEO title to Ethan. Before I do that, I’ll have him hand all his active client accounts over to you…” Hearing those words, I was so furious smoke practically blew out of my ears. I almost lost it and beat him to a pulp right there in the bathroom. But ultimately, reason prevailed. Even if I beat the crap out of him, what would it accomplish? If I laid a finger on him, Richard would call the cops, press charges, and extort me for a massive settlement. It wasn’t worth it. Richard coughed lightly, pulling me from my thoughts, and smiled his fake smile. “Ethan, what are you waiting for? Hurry up and sign!” “Once you sign and the paperwork is filed, I’m hosting a dinner at The Capital Grille tonight. The whole executive team is getting together…” Before he could finish, I said flatly, “Mr. Vance, I am incredibly grateful for your high regard.” “However, my education is limited, and my contributions are negligible. I’ve been with the company for less than three years. I absolutely cannot shoulder the immense responsibility of being the CEO. You should find someone more qualified.” Hearing my refusal, Richard’s face darkened slightly. At that moment, his executive assistant, Chloe Miller, spoke up. She gave me a saccharine, fake look. “Ethan, Mr. Vance is showing you incredible appreciation. Don’t throw away a golden opportunity like this!” “You don’t even have a college degree. In any other corporate firm, they wouldn’t even look at your resume.” “Mr. Vance not only hired you but mentored you. And now he’s elevating you to the executive suite! Do you have absolutely no gratitude for everything he’s done for you?” “Mr. Vance believes in you. If you refuse, aren’t you just slapping him in the face?” “Ethan, opportunities like this don’t come around every day. If you miss this, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.” I sneered internally, but kept my face completely neutral. “I know I can’t handle the burden of being the legal representative. With my low education and lack of seniority, I’m perfectly happy just being a regular employee.” “You, on the other hand, Chloe, have an excellent degree. Plus, you’re Mr. Vance’s sister-in-law. You are the perfect candidate for the CEO position.” “Keep the wealth in the family. Let’s leave the CEO title for Miss Miller!” Hearing this, Chloe glared at me viciously and snapped, “Ethan, don’t be an ungrateful prick!” “You…” Before she could finish, I cut her off, feigning complete innocence. “Chloe, why are you getting so defensive?” “Recommending you for the CEO role is a huge compliment!” “Could it be that you don’t want to be a top executive?” “Or is there something… wrong… with the CEO position?” Chloe was furious. Just as she opened her mouth to yell, Richard slammed his hand on the desk, his face cold. “Enough! Both of you, quiet down!” “Ethan, do you really not want the CEO position?” “If you take it, I can promise you a 5% equity stake in the company…” I shook my head decisively. “I think being a regular employee is great. I’m a man with low ambitions. I just don’t have that kind of drive.” Richard’s gaze turned dark and venomous. He was clearly pissed. However, he didn’t blow up immediately. He said coldly, “We’ll discuss the CEO position later. Starting today, Ethan, I need you to hand over all your active client accounts to Chloe.” “And any projects you haven’t closed yet? Transfer those to her as well.” “Alright, you’re dismissed. Get out.” Just as I stepped out of the office, I heard a loud crash from inside. Sounded like Richard had smashed his favorite custom coffee mug against the wall. A cold smirk curled on my lips. You’re mad already? The real show hasn’t even started yet! 2 I had zero complaints about handing over my clients and pending projects to Chloe. But when the rest of the office found out, the way they looked at me instantly changed. They instinctively distanced themselves, whispering among themselves with thinly veiled schadenfreude. “Is Ethan an idiot? Can’t he see the boss is completely phasing him out?” “I always hated that guy. He didn’t even graduate college, why the hell does he get to sit at the same level as us Ivy League grads?” “The most annoying part is that his sales numbers are higher than ours. All he does is kiss ass and drink with clients, right?” “Good riddance. A parasite like him should have been fired ages ago.” “At the awards banquet, everyone got a fat bonus except him, and he didn’t even complain. What a pathetic, brainless corporate slave!” I wasn’t exactly popular in the office. It wasn’t because I was arrogant or aloof. When I first joined, I genuinely tried to build good relationships with my coworkers. But they all looked down on me. The main reason? My lack of a fancy degree. Back then, Richard saw that I was a smooth talker and had helped him close a massive deal, so he reluctantly brought me on board. At the time, I was incredibly grateful. I worked like a madman. Even though I had the lowest base salary, my workload was the heaviest in the entire company. No matter how others viewed me, I put my head down and crushed my quotas, just to repay Richard for giving me a chance. My first year, I brought in $10 million in contracts, accounting for 30% of the company’s total revenue. My second year, I closed $25 million, making up 50% of the revenue. By my third year, 80% of the company’s total sales volume was signed by me. And my salary? It remained frozen at the exact same entry-level rate I started with. Even the fresh college grads they hired last year had a higher base salary than I did. Originally, I planned to ask Richard for a raise after the awards banquet. Now? There was absolutely no need. The debt of gratitude I owed him had been paid off tenfold a long time ago. But Richard wanted to squeeze the very last drop of value out of me, and then kick me into the abyss to take the fall for his crimes. That wasn’t just bad business; it was pure evil. Over the next few days, I clocked in and out normally, completely ignoring the bizarre, mocking stares from my coworkers. Until the day before the winter holidays. The moment I walked into the office, the atmosphere felt different. My coworkers looked at me like I was a clown, their eyes brimming with malicious joy. I had just sat down at my desk when Richard walked out of his office. He was holding a thick stack of red bonus envelopes, handing them out one by one. The staff was grinning ear to ear. Richard cleared his throat and smiled warmly. “Everyone worked hard this year. I hope we can keep up the momentum next year and hit new revenue records.” “Today is the last workday before the holidays. You can all clock out early this afternoon. Remember to be back in the office on the 8th. I’ll have kickoff bonuses waiting for you.” The office erupted in cheers, aggressively showering Richard with flattery. Richard glanced at me, a fake, plastic smile on his face. “Ethan, there’s no bonus for you. Don’t take it personally.” “Given your sub-par performance during your last few contract negotiations, the clients had some complaints. It negatively impacted the company’s reputation. Honestly, you should be thankful I’m not docking your pay.” “This holiday, don’t bother going back to your hometown. Stay here and man the office.” “And don’t even think about holiday overtime pay. Consider it your unpaid contribution to the company to make up for the reputational damage you caused.” After Richard finished, the mockery on my coworkers’ faces grew even more intense. I had already handed all my clients and projects over to Chloe, so Richard didn’t even bother pretending to be nice anymore. His stance was crystal clear: as long as I refused to sign the CEO transfer paperwork, he was going to make my life a living hell. My response was simple. I pulled out the resignation letter I had already prepared and dropped it on my desk. “Find someone else to man the office. I quit.” 3 My resignation went through flawlessly. Richard signed off on it right then and there. After I packed up my box and walked out the glass doors, Chloe stood in the executive office, looking confused. “Richard, didn’t you say we had to force Ethan to take the CEO title?” “Why did you approve his resignation so easily?” “Do you have a new scapegoat lined up?” Richard smiled confidently. “Relax. Ethan isn’t escaping my grasp.” “He is the absolute perfect fall guy. Think about it: over the last few years, he signed the vast majority of our contracts. His name is all over our biggest projects.” “As long as we force him to become the legal CEO, when the company’s finances explode in six months, we can pin 100% of the blame on him.” “I’ve already forged evidence showing him taking kickbacks and embezzling company funds. When the time comes, I’ll leak it, and Ethan will become public enemy number one.” “Your job right now is to keep his old clients happy. Squeeze as many advance payments out of them as possible.” “That way, in six months when the company goes bankrupt and Ethan goes to federal prison, we can take the cash and disappear to a tropical island.” Chloe sat on Richard’s lap, her voice sickeningly sweet. “Richard, what about my sister?” Richard let out a disgusted snort. “When she goes bankrupt, you think I’m going to stay with that ugly old hag?” “Besides, she’s not even your biological sister, and you’ve always hated her anyway. This is the perfect chance to get your revenge!” Chloe’s smile grew wider. She wrapped her arms around Richard’s neck. “If she hadn’t suddenly been ‘found’ and brought back to the Sterling family, all the Sterling wealth would have been mine.” “She grew up in the country. Her looks, her body, her education—she’s inferior to me in every way. But just because I’m the adopted daughter, she inherited everything. It’s not fair.” “She funded this entire company. Once we tank it, she’ll lose everything.” Richard laughed arrogantly. “When the financials blow up in six months, right before we leave, I’ll clean out our joint bank accounts and empty the house. She’ll be just as broke and destitute as that loser Ethan!” Chloe kissed Richard hard, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “Let’s put that aside for now. How are you going to force Ethan to willingly become the scapegoat?” Richard smiled evilly. “Ethan’s family is poor. His parents are old, but they’re still working minimum wage jobs just to survive.” “If his parents were to have a little… accident… and couldn’t work anymore? And suddenly needed a massive amount of cash for medical bills? Do you think Ethan would come begging to me?” “When that happens, I’ll have him completely by the balls!” Just as Richard and Chloe were getting handsy in the office, a frantic knocking echoed on the door. “What is it?!” Richard barked angrily. His trusted assistant’s panicked voice came through the wood. “Boss, your wife is here! She’s already in the lobby!” 4 Richard and Chloe scrambled to fix their clothes, both looking visibly panicked. Chloe stammered, “Richard, why is my sister here?!” “Didn’t she leave all the company operations to you?!” Richard ran a stressed hand through his hair. “How the hell should I know what that old hag is plotting!” “Why didn’t she call ahead?!” “Do you think she’s here to audit the books?!” “Pull yourself together. Don’t act suspicious.” The moment they stepped out of the office, a sharply dressed woman in her mid-thirties strode into the bullpen. It was Richard’s wife, Victoria Sterling. The employees all greeted her with immense caution and respect. The veterans knew exactly who held the real power. It wasn’t Richard; it was the formidable Victoria, who could crush Richard with a single thought. Richard slapped on a look of sheer joy and rushed over. “Honey! What are you doing here? I thought you were out shopping and playing bridge with your friends!” Chloe also plastered on a bright smile, adopting a playful tone. “Victoria! Were you worried Richard was messing around behind your back? Don’t worry, I’m keeping a close eye on him for you!” Victoria completely ignored Chloe. She looked at Richard and asked flatly, “Where is our top sales rep? The guy named Ethan. Is he here?” Hearing this, the employees exchanged bizarre looks. After all, I had just quit an hour ago. The owner’s wife suddenly showing up specifically looking for me was incredibly strange. Chloe asked cautiously, “Victoria, why are you looking for Ethan?” Victoria glanced at Chloe, then turned back to Richard. “Ethan’s parents were in a severe car accident. They’re in the hospital.” “He’s our top performer. It’s only right that we go show our support.” “I was shopping nearby when I heard the news, so I came straight here. I was going to take Ethan to the hospital to see them.” Chloe was just about to blurt out that I had quit, but Richard desperately shot her a warning glare. He quickly turned to Victoria, his face a mask of sycophantic concern. “Honey, I just heard the news too! I was just getting ready to head to the hospital!” “Ethan came in this morning throwing a massive tantrum, screaming about resigning. I have no idea what got into him. I tried to talk him out of it for an hour, but he wouldn’t listen. I had no choice but to approve it.” “He probably got the call and rushed straight to the hospital. Let’s head over there right now. We can check on his parents, and while we’re at it, we can try to convince him to come back to the company.” Victoria gave Richard a long, unreadable look. She didn’t say a word, and simply turned to leave. Richard and Chloe followed closely behind. Half an hour later, they arrived at the hospital room. When they saw the people standing outside the door, both Richard and Chloe froze. The people standing there were the primary investors and board members of the company! Richard looked at them in complete shock, instinctively asking, “What are you guys doing here?” The board members completely ignored Richard and Chloe, respectfully greeting Victoria instead. Victoria looked at Richard and said flatly, “I asked them to come!” “I’m going to announce something right in front of them!” Richard and Chloe’s hearts plummeted into their stomachs. “Announce what?” A cold sneer crept onto Victoria’s lips. “You’ll find out in a minute.” “Let’s go inside and check on Ethan’s parents first.” Without waiting for their response, Victoria pushed open the door to the hospital room. When they saw what was inside, Richard and Chloe’s faces contorted in absolute, paralyzing terror.

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Because of my cowardly personality, I was bullied every day by my coworkers and gaslighted by my manager: “Shouldn’t young people do a little more?” “With your skill level, do you even deserve a salary? Do you think this company is a charity?” “You have plenty of opportunities in the future. Let the senior employees have the ‘Employee of the Year’ award this time.” “You’re just wasting oxygen. Watch your back on your way home!” When I went to the boss to report the bullying, he just sneered: “There’s no such thing as bullying among adults. If everyone dislikes you, you need to look at yourself and find out why!” Eventually, my depression worsened, and I jumped off a building to end my life. When I woke up, my coworker Linda was just saying to me: “Hey Chloe, I’m heading out early. Can you stay late and finish this spreadsheet for me?” 1 “Are your arms broken?” I didn’t even look up, just fired right back at her. In my past life, this was exactly how it started—the slow, creeping gaslighting over minor tasks. At first, when delegating work within the department, they’d intentionally give me a heavier workload or the toughest, most thankless tasks. Later on, they didn’t even bother hiding it. They just dumped their own work on me, constantly saying: “Chloe, can you organize this spreadsheet for me?” “Chloe, take this report over to the client for me.” “Chloe, I have a family emergency and need to leave early. Can you finish my expense report and attach the receipts?” Chloe isn’t your mother. Will you literally die if you don’t boss me around for one second? How shameless can you get? Unfortunately, in my past life, I was meek and thin-skinned. If I was even slightly slow, my coworkers would say: “Oh, Chloe, you’re still young. Young people should work harder so they can learn and grow quickly. That’s how we all came up.” Like an idiot, I thought they actually had my best interests at heart and eagerly ran around doing their bidding. But what exactly was I supposed to learn from spending two hours taping receipts to a piece of paper? On top of that, Accounting would constantly nitpick—either the receipts were facing the wrong way or in the wrong order. They called me useless, saying I couldn’t even handle a simple task. It tanked my self-esteem. I started doubting myself, wondering if I really was just that incompetent and needed to tape more receipts to improve. But that was nothing. The fatal blow came later. The data in the contract I delivered to the client for Linda was wrong, causing a massive loss for the project. The boss was absolutely furious. Linda put on a devastated, apologetic face and explained to the management: “Young people are just so careless. I hadn’t even finished reviewing it, and Chloe took it upon herself to deliver it to the client. It’s my fault. I’ll teach her more in the future and make sure she learns to be more reliable.” The boss immediately docked my entire annual bonus, and HR sent out a formal, company-wide reprimand email. I hid in the bathroom and cried for hours. I really wanted to travel back in time and slap myself awake for being such a massive pushover! Instead of wasting time crying, why didn’t I just rip her a new one? Thankfully, I’ve been reborn! 2 Linda looked at me in pure disbelief: “Chloe, what kind of attitude is that? We’re your seniors. Did you lose your mind today? You were never like this before.” Clearly, she still thought I was the same meek doormat from my past life. “Linda, this is your work. How do you have the nerve to ask me to work overtime to do it?” “What’s wrong with a young person learning a bit more? I’m giving you an opportunity to gain experience. Besides, you’re a single girl, you don’t have anything going on at home anyway. Why can’t you spend a little more time improving yourself?” “You’re right. I definitely need to learn more, especially since this spreadsheet is so difficult. I don’t know how to do it. Why don’t you teach me? Once you teach me how, then I’ll do it for you.” I’d made up my mind. If she wanted to play the “young people need to learn” card, fine! I’ll learn! I’ll spend 5 hours learning how to do this spreadsheet! I’ll stay until 11 PM learning! Linda seemed to catch on to my strategy and got a little angry: “You can’t even handle a simple task like this? I don’t know how HR ever hired you!” “Yeah, you can’t even handle a simple task like this and have to ask others for help. I don’t know how you’ve survived in this company for so many years!” “I have something to do and need to leave early, it’s not that I don’t know how to do it!” Linda started explaining herself. The moment she started explaining, the battle was already won. Take note here, this is a key lesson: In office warfare, never explain yourself. The moment you start explaining, you fall into the trap of self-justification. Just go on the offensive. I didn’t say anything else, just gave her a cold sneer. Linda seemed a little flustered. She didn’t dare tangle with me any further, went back to her cubicle, and started working on the spreadsheet herself. As she worked, she muttered under her breath: “What’s wrong with her? She was fine yesterday…” Although she backed off, she was clearly still resentful. After all, just a few days ago, no matter who asked me to do something, I’d just roll over and take it. Today, I actually dared to refuse her, completely disrespecting her in front of everyone. So, she was determined to win that respect back today. Not long after, she came looking for me again. Of course, coming to me this time was like walking right into a trap. 3 She tossed the client contract onto my desk: “You can’t do a spreadsheet, but surely you can run an errand? This is the contract for the client. Go drop it off!” Just as I was about to fire back, a scene from my past life flashed through my mind: It was this exact contract delivery. Linda falsely accused me of submitting the contract to the client without permission, which cost me my annual bonus, got me publicly reprimanded, and made me cry my eyes out. Well, I had to deliver it. Otherwise, what if she noticed the data was wrong and corrected it? So, I pretended to be reluctant and said: “Fine, I’ll go drop it off now.” Linda looked pleased. She finally got her respect back today. This young upstart dared to rebel and be insubordinate; she had to nip that abnormal behavior in the bud immediately. However, seeing my sour expression, she assumed I was still resentful and wanted to push me down further: “Chloe, this isn’t just a simple delivery. You’ll get to interact with the client. You can learn how to communicate with clients. You’re still very lacking in that area.” What a joke. When I got to the client’s office, all I had to do was hand it to the receptionist. What was there to learn? Stop using “learning” and “growth” as bait to exploit young employees. Besides, I communicate perfectly fine with my own clients. How am I lacking? Of course, right now, I couldn’t wait to get that contract into the client’s hands. I just played hard to get: “But I’m worried the manager might need me for something. If he can’t find me, he might mark me as AWOL. Could you let the manager know?” My request was perfectly reasonable. The company had a formal “Out of Office” form, but people usually just left if they had urgent business. I diligently filled out the form, made sure both Linda and the manager, Mark, signed it, and then happily rented a Citi Bike to deliver the contract. As for the financial loss it would cause the company, that wasn’t my problem. In my past life, when the bullying got so suffocating I couldn’t breathe, I went to the boss and told him I felt like I was being bullied by my coworkers. The boss just sneered at me: “Chloe, have you been reading too much fiction? There’s no such thing as bullying among adults. If nobody likes you, maybe it’s because your emotional intelligence isn’t high enough?” I tried to explain, but he waved his hand dismissively: “Look for the reasons within yourself. Don’t blow everything out of proportion. You’re an adult, stop being so dramatic!” Was I being dramatic? I was being bullied, and I was supposed to find the reason within myself? When will this victim-blaming mentality finally disappear? I looked at the contract in my hand and wished I could change the price to be even lower and the penalty clause to be even higher. I’d love to bankrupt this company in one fell swoop. But I wasn’t going to commit a crime. I’d just sit back and watch them destroy themselves. 4 The problem surfaced very quickly. As soon as the client wired the payment, Accounting panicked and rushed to the boss. Soon, both Linda and Manager Mark were called into the boss’s office. Roaring and the sound of things being thrown echoed from inside. Everyone in the bullpen was too scared to make a sound. They all sat rigidly at their desks, pretending to be extremely busy, while stealing glances at the boss’s office. I felt absolutely nothing inside. I just silently cheered for the boss, hoping he’d lose his mind and beat Linda up. Unfortunately, the tension inside seemed to ease up a bit. A few minutes later, Linda opened the door and called me in. The boss pointed at the contract on the floor and demanded: “What is wrong with you?! You delivered the contract to the client before Linda even finished revising it?!” Trying this trick again? What a masterful deflection! “Boss, Linda told me to deliver it. I have an Out of Office form, and Manager Mark knew about it too.” Linda had assumed I’d just silently take the fall like I did in my past life, and then go hide in the bathroom and cry for hours. She didn’t expect me to instantly whip out an approved Out of Office form. “I followed company procedure and submitted a request to leave the office. Here is my approved form.” The boss shot a look at Mark. Mark’s signature was on that form. If he covered for Linda, he’d be taking the blame himself. Mark was shrewd. He immediately said: “That’s right. Linda asked Chloe to deliver it. They both told me about it.” The boss grew even angrier and glared daggers at Linda. Linda turned pale from fear. She couldn’t shift the blame, and her attempt to frame someone else had failed. I thought she was out of moves, but then she suddenly picked up the quote sheet, pointed at the numbers, and said to the boss: “This data is wrong. Someone tampered with it. I’ve been at this company for years; there’s no way I’d make such a rookie mistake!” Then, she glared at me viciously: “Chloe, is it because I asked you to do that spreadsheet? Are you mad at me and trying to get revenge? If it was wrong of me to ask you to work overtime, you could have reported it to management. You can’t just use the company’s profits to get revenge on me for your own petty grievances!” She even turned to Mark and said: “Manager Mark, you saw me and Chloe arguing that day, right? I never thought this young kid would be so vindictive and have absolutely zero regard for the big picture!” I was a bit stunned. I didn’t realize this woman was such a good actress. 5 But if she wanted to put on a show, I’d play along to the bitter end! “Linda, after I got the contract from you, I put it straight into a manila envelope. When would I have had the chance to alter it?” “Who knows if you swapped it out on the way? I have the original version on my computer. Let’s take a look and see, won’t we?” Saying that, she actually ran out and brought her laptop in. I looked closely, and sure enough, the amount was a full million dollars higher than the contract sent to the client. Linda instantly regained her confidence: “Boss, look, this is the original data. Chloe must have been upset that I made her work overtime, so she altered the contract to get back at me. Thank God I kept the original draft, otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to prove my innocence.” Then she turned around, putting on an expression of deep disappointment: “Chloe, personal grudges should be settled privately. But what you’ve done is illegal! If you don’t confess right now, we’re calling the police!” I didn’t expect Linda to be so fast. She had altered the draft in that short amount of time and then immediately thrown the dirty water on me. The boss and Mark seemed more inclined to believe Linda. I could understand that. Linda was a veteran employee who was always kissing up to management, while I had only been there for a little over a year. Of course, they’d side with her. “Call the police then. I can’t explain it anyway.” Seeing my indifferent attitude, Linda became even more arrogant and actually reached for her phone to call 911. But with her little trick, the company’s IT department could easily check when she modified the file. We didn’t even need the police. She was just bluffing to force me to take the fall. Mark stopped Linda and said to me: “Chloe, the company doesn’t actually want to see you go to jail. If you really altered it, just confess. The company takes a small loss, and it won’t affect you.” This was exactly how it played out in my past life. The two of them played good cop, bad cop, forcing me to take the blame, which became the catalyst for my worsening depression. Seeing Mark still pulling the same old tricks, I couldn’t take it anymore and asked: “Manager Mark, haven’t you always kept the company seal locked in your office? I’m just a regular employee. I don’t have the authorization to alter contracts, and I certainly don’t have access to the company seal. Please tell me, how exactly did I alter it? And how did I stamp it after altering it?” Theoretically, Mark was supposed to review all contracts. But he trusted Linda, so he probably just stamped it without even looking. That meant he had to share the blame, which was why he was so desperate to pin it on me. Of course, the deeper reason was that they both thought I was an easy target, the perfect scapegoat. 6 I had checkmated Mark. He quickly tried to explain to the boss: “I keep the company seal in my office. Usually, people just come in and stamp things themselves. It was an oversight in my management…” This statement not only cleared him of the responsibility of “failing to review” the contract but also implied that I might have snuck in and used the seal when no one was looking. It was incredibly calculating. I was too lazy to keep playing games with them. I took out my phone and pulled up the photos I had taken the moment Linda handed me the contract: “Boss, when I got the contract, I was worried pages might be missing, so I took a picture of every single page. You can take a look.” The boss took my phone, checked the timestamp on the photos, and then looked at the content. His face turned ashen. Linda still wouldn’t give up and stubbornly argued: “Who knows if those photos are Photoshopped? Photoshop is so advanced these days. Doctoring a photo and changing the timestamp is easy.” Even at this point, she was still trying to shift the blame. I wasn’t going to humor her anymore: “Linda, when I got the contract, I walked past the front entrance. There’s a security camera right there. I held up every single page under that camera. Just have IT pull the security footage!” Linda, who had been trying to put up a brave front, completely panicked. I struck while the iron was hot: “Also, your little trick with altering the file won’t fool anyone. The file properties show the ‘Last Modified’ date. Open it and see for yourself.” I really didn’t understand how she could delude herself to this extent. The boss finally lost it: “If you made a mistake, you made a mistake! Why are you still lying?! You’ve caused the company a massive loss. Write your resignation letter. I don’t ever want to see you again!” Linda lowered her head, not daring to speak. Not making her pay for the damages was already a huge act of leniency. However, her year-end bonus was definitely gone, her commissions were gone, and she wasn’t getting any severance pay either. As she left, she glared at me with pure hatred: “I never thought someone as young as you could be so calculating.” I genuinely couldn’t understand it. When a bad person’s malicious plot fails, they blame the victim for not cooperating? Of course, what I understood even less was the boss. After Linda left, he held the contract, stared at me, and said: “Since you looked at every page of this contract and even took pictures, why didn’t you spot the errors?”

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In the capital’s elite circles, all knew Crown Prince cherished his beloved daughter and wife of seven years, Iris Winter. Yet secretly, he kept another woman and an illegitimate son in his suburban villa, visiting them on every business trip. After rebirth, the first thing I did was swallow abortion pills before him — one, two, three… Until blood streamed down my legs and his eyes reddened, rushing to stop me. In my past life, he married me because I was pregnant with our daughter. I believed longing had finally been answered, but marriage brought only emotional abuse. Our daughter wasn’t even allowed to call him “Dad.” On her birthday, he took her to kindergarten alone — I thought his heart had softened. Instead, he sent her into surgery to donate bone marrow for his son with his first love. She died of infection on the table; he skipped her cremation to celebrate his son’s birthday. I sat with her urn until dark, only to hear, “Decide your divorce terms. I don’t want the daughter.” Ridiculous. I watched him leave, then set myself ablaze. Flames silenced the pain. Reborn, I vowed this tragedy would end at the start. … The hospital’s antiseptic smell was acrid. I lay in the hospital bed, a cramping pain twisting in my lower abdomen, like a blunt knife churning inside. Liam Bowen stood by the bed, his face ashen. “Iris Winter, are you deliberately taking abortion pills and playing the victim, just to hide Cathy Lin?” Abortion pills. A bitter ploy. Hiding Cathy Lin. In his eyes, had I become so manipulative that I would use my own flesh and blood as a bargaining chip? My voice was hoarse. “What does that have to do with me?” Yes, I knew Cathy Lin. She was his first love, the woman hidden in the suburban villa. Liam’s voice was low, laced with a strange certainty. “You know. You know about her existence, you know about the child’s existence, you even know where I go every time I’m on a ‘business trip’.” “Iris Winter, you’ve been reborn too, haven’t you?” In that instant, my heart nearly stopped. The hospital room was eerily quiet. I could hear my own heartbeat, a frantic drum against my ribs. Liam stared at me, his eyes holding a madness I’d never seen before. “In the last life, you burned yourself and our daughter to death. I thought it was all over, but then I opened my eyes and I was back eight years ago.” All the blood in my body turned cold. He had been reborn too. He remembered everything from the previous life. He remembered our daughter’s death, he remembered the fire, he remembered everything. But what he wanted to make amends for wasn’t me, wasn’t our daughter. It was Cathy Lin, it was that so-called son. Liam’s hand gripped my jaw, the force so strong it felt like my bones would shatter. “Where have you hidden her?” I gritted my teeth. “I haven’t.” His voice suddenly rose. “Tell me!” “I told you, it wasn’t me!” He ripped the IV needle from my hand, blood seeping from the puncture. My eyes reddened. “Liam Bowen, you’re insane!” “You’re forcing me, Iris Winter!” He pulled out his phone and dialed a number. “Come in.” The hospital room door was pushed open again. Two men in black suits entered. One held a medical kit. A premonition of ill omen rose in my heart. “Mr. Bowen, the items are here.” The man opened the box, revealing a row of syringes neatly arranged inside. Liam took one, examining it under the light. “Iris Winter, I’ll ask you one last time, where is Cathy Lin?” I clenched my jaw, not uttering a single word. I hadn’t kidnapped Cathy Lin; I didn’t even know why she would be missing. But I knew that in this man’s eyes, I would always be the wrong one. It was true in the previous life, and it was true in this one. “Very good.” Liam grabbed my arm, the needle piercing my skin. It wasn’t injected into a vein, but shallowly into the muscle, then the liquid was slowly pushed in. The pain was like countless ants tearing at my skin. “What is this?” “Something to make you clear-headed.” He expressionlessly pulled out the needle and took another. “Each injection will make you hurt a little more.” “Until you tell me where she is.” The second needle went into my arm. The third into my calf. The fourth… I don’t know how long it lasted before Liam finally stopped. My whole body trembled, cold sweat soaking my hospital gown. “Why don’t you believe me?” I heard my voice, hoarse like a broken bellows. Liam looked at me with an expressionless face. “Because you’ve changed.” He spoke softly, yet his words cut into my heart like a blunt knife. I closed my eyes. Changed. Yes, I had changed. The Iris Winter of the previous life, who gave up everything for him, humbled to the dust, was dead. Dead in that great fire, dead before our daughter’s cold urn, dead in his retreating figure. But why should he demand that I not change? “Liam Bowen, you remember the previous life. Then do you remember how our daughter died?” I opened my eyes and looked directly at him. His pupils suddenly constricted. “You personally sent her into surgery, to donate bone marrow for your son. She was only five years old, she didn’t even dare to call your name.” “When she died from infection on the operating table, you were celebrating Cathy Lin’s son’s birthday.” “So, in this life, I simply took the abortion pills. That way, our daughter won’t be born. She won’t have to see a father who doesn’t love her.” I laughed, but tears streamed down my face. Not from pain, but from irony. In the previous life, he sacrificed our daughter for Cathy Lin’s son; in this life, he tortures me for that son. From beginning to end, his heart only held that woman and that child. What was I? What was our daughter? A tool, a substitute, or a pawn to be discarded at any time? No sooner had the words left my lips than a resounding slap landed hard on my face. My head was snapped to the side, blood instantly seeping from the corner of my mouth. Liam’s voice trembled. “That was your child! How dare you abort her?!” I covered my face, letting out a cold laugh. “How dare I? Liam Bowen, when you let her die on the operating table in the previous life, why didn’t you ask yourself how you dared?” He raised his hand, as if to strike again, but it froze midway. “You!” His eyes were bloodshot, his chest heaving violently. “Iris Winter, you don’t deserve to be a mother.” I lifted my head, tears mingled with blood running down my face. “Liam Bowen, you are the least qualified to say that to me.” Just then, his phone rang. Liam answered, and his face instantly changed. “What?!” He abruptly stood up. I was dragged out of the hospital room by him, my wounds still bleeding, each step a searing pain. At the entrance to the emergency room, several bodyguards in black suits stood. The light in the emergency room went out. Liam rushed over, grabbing the doctor who came out. “Where’s my son?” The doctor removed his mask, his face grim. “I’m sorry, we did our best.” The air froze. I stood a few meters away, watching Liam’s hand slowly relax, his whole body seeming to deflate. His voice was very soft. “What did you say?” “The child had no vital signs when he arrived. We performed CPR for forty minutes…” The doctor was still saying something, but I couldn’t hear it anymore. Because the emergency room door was pushed open, and a woman stumbled out. Cathy Lin. She was wearing a long white dress, her hair disheveled, her face streaked with tears. “Ethan! My Ethan!” She threw herself into Liam’s arms, her whole body shaking. “Liam, my Ethan, how could he…” Liam stood stiffly, not embracing her, just staring in the direction of the emergency room. His voice was cold. “What happened? Ethan was fine, how could something suddenly happen?” Cathy Lin sobbed, struggling for breath. “I don’t know, I was driving him home today, and suddenly a car hit us from behind. When I woke up, he was lying in a pool of blood…” As she spoke, she suddenly looked up, her gaze fixed on me. “It’s you! It must be you!” I froze. Cathy Lin tore herself from Liam’s embrace and stumbled towards me. “Iris Winter, you killed my son!” Her voice was shrill and piercing, and everyone in the hallway turned to look. “You hate Liam, you hate me, so you targeted Ethan!” She raised her hand to strike me. Liam grabbed my arm, yanking me in front of him. “Iris Winter, what do you have to say for yourself?” His eyes were bloodshot, like a deranged beast. I looked at him, and suddenly felt it was all so ridiculous. “Liam Bowen, why do you think I did it?” He spoke each word distinctly. “Because you hate me, you hate Cathy Lin, you hate Ethan.” “So the first thing you did after being reborn was abort our daughter, and the second was to target them.” I took a deep breath. “I didn’t.” Cathy Lin shrieked. “You’re still trying to argue! The police were just here, and they found the hit-and-run vehicle information!” She pointed at me, her voice shrill. “Liam, the police said the license plate number of that car belongs to Iris Winter!” I reeled. My car? But I hadn’t driven at all. I looked at Liam. “It wasn’t me. You can check the surveillance.” Cathy Lin sneered. “Surveillance can be faked! You just want to kill my son and me!” She started crying again. “Liam, you have to avenge Ethan. He was only five years old, still so small…” Liam’s grip tightened further. I felt like the bones in my arm were about to break. I stared at him. “If you don’t believe me, call the police.” He suddenly laughed, a chilling sound. “Call the police? Iris Winter, do you think I’d let you off that easy, just to go to prison?” He released my arm and turned to his bodyguards. “Take her.” “Where?” “To the outskirts.” His voice was soft, yet it sounded like a death sentence. “I’ll make her realize the price of killing my son.” The car drove for a long time. So long that the streetlights outside the window grew fewer and fewer, until finally, only darkness remained. I was thrown into the backseat, my hands and feet bound. The rough rope bit into my flesh, each breath tugging at the wounds on my wrists. Cathy Lin sat in the passenger seat, crying the entire time. Liam drove, not uttering a single word. I didn’t know where he was taking me. But I knew I might truly die tonight. The car jolted over a pothole, my body slamming hard against the car door, a sharp pain shooting through my shoulder. I gritted my teeth, refusing to cry out. The car finally stopped. I was dragged out, my feet landing on dirt. There was nothing around, only the silhouettes of a few bare trees in the distance. The middle of nowhere. A bodyguard roughly yanked my arm. I stumbled, my knee hitting a stone, the searing pain making my vision black out for a moment. Liam stood before me, looking down. “Iris Winter, I’ll ask you one last time.” “Did you kill Ethan?” I lifted my head, looking into his eyes. My lips were purple from pain and cold, my teeth chattering as I spoke. “No.” Liam nodded. “Good. Since you won’t admit it, I’ll make sure you can never speak again.” He turned to his bodyguards. “Dig a hole.” I froze. “Liam Bowen, what are you going to do?” His voice was calm. “Bury you alive. Just like you killed Ethan, I’ll make you taste despair.” The bodyguards began to dig. The sound of shovels piercing the earth was jarringly clear in the silent night. I watched the pit deepen, my heart aching. The wound on my knee was still bleeding, warm liquid running down my calf, soaking my pant leg. “Liam Bowen, you’re really insane.” In my previous life, I thought love could be exchanged for love, and patience for tenderness. In the end, all I got was our daughter’s urn and a self-immolation. In this life, I explicitly chose not to let our daughter be born, yet I still couldn’t change anything. Liam knelt down, pinching my jaw. His fingers were like iron tongs, gripping my mandible so tightly. “You forced me. In the last life, you killed our daughter. In this life, you killed Ethan.” “Iris Winter, how much more do you intend to destroy of mine?” I looked at his bloodshot eyes and suddenly felt so tired. “You never believed me.” Liam’s hand stiffened. “You’re not worth it!” Yes, I wasn’t worth it. Not worth him believing me even once. I stared into his eyes, my voice beginning to tremble. “Without any evidence, based solely on someone else’s words, are you going to sentence me to death?” Liam’s fist clenched and then relaxed. His voice was as cold as the stones in this desolate wilderness. “I don’t need evidence. I don’t need the police. Iris Winter, today, you will be buried with Ethan.” He waved his hand at the bodyguards. The two tall men walked over, gripping my arms from each side. I struggled desperately. “Liam Bowen, you can’t do this!” My bound wrists, under their pulling, had the rope deeply embedded in my flesh. I could feel my skin tearing, warm blood dripping from my fingers. With every step, the wound on my knee ripped further, the pain so intense I could barely stand. I used all my strength to try and break free, my legs frantically kicking the ground, leaving two deep marks in the dirt. “Liam Bowen, are you going to kill me here?” Liam pointed at the deep pit. “I’m going to bury you here.” The bodyguards dragged me towards the pit. In my previous life, I chose fire, burning completely, not even wanting to leave him ashes. In this life, he chose earth, to let me rot in an unknown wilderness, as if I had never existed. I desperately turned to look at him, tears blurring my vision. “Please, just believe me once! Just once! I didn’t do it! I really didn’t!” Liam stood at the edge of the pit, his overcoat billowing in the wind. Only his voice cut through the wind. “I don’t care anymore.” I screamed in despair. “No! Liam Bowen! You can’t do this!” Liam acted as if he hadn’t heard. He turned, his back to the deep pit, and said coldly, “Bury her!”

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I was halfway through a work trip when a message suddenly popped up in the condo owners’ group chat: “My kids have finals this week. Could the unit above us please keep it down? And for God’s sake, stop playing that ‘Daddy’ game.” Another neighbor chimed in: “Seriously. ‘Daddy’ this, ‘Daddy’ that, day and night. Are they that desperate for attention?” But I had been out of town for over a month and a half. Who was playing games in my apartment? 1 I tried to check the CCTV on my security camera, but the connection kept failing. After several attempts, I called my fiancé, Holden Blackwood, hoping he could swing by and check the setup. No answer. I tried to rationalize it. The soundproofing in our building, The Heights, was notoriously bad. Maybe the noise was traveling from another unit, and the downstairs neighbor, Carol Perkins, had just misidentified the source. I quickly messaged the group: “There is no one home in my unit. You should check elsewhere for the source of the noise.” The group chat fell silent. I tried to focus on my itinerary, but a low, insidious anxiety had begun to coil in my stomach. Even if Holden had been busy when I called, he should have at least texted me back. He never did. I scrolled through our message history. The screen was a long ribbon of my vibrant green bubbles—photos of local cuisine, complaints about bizarre clients, and long, detailed inquiries about his day, his meals, his schedule. Sandwiched between my effusive paragraphs were his clipped, blue replies: “K.” “Got it.” “Fine.” “I know!” I hesitated for a moment, then sent another text: Are you busy right now? Could you swing by the apartment? I can’t connect to the camera. I’m worried it’s unplugged or broken. As soon as I hit send, I regretted it. Holden’s research lab at the university was demanding. When I’d told him this current work trip would last nearly three months, he’d packed a duffel bag and moved straight into the campus dorm. “Tracy,” he’d said, using my first name, “you’re going to be gone. It’s a waste of time and gas to commute back and forth every day.” The day I left, we’d walked out of the apartment building at the same time. I’d expected him to offer me a ride to the airport. Instead, he simply got into the SUV—the one my parents had bought for me—and peeled out, leaving me standing alone with my luggage. I hailed a rideshare, trying to soothe the stinging feeling. He’s just a classic academic, a genius with no social skills, I told myself. His mind is only on his thesis. We’re looking at houses. We’re getting married. It’s fine. It’s fine. But over the past six weeks, he hadn’t initiated a single call or text. Everyone said three days of silence was the end of a relationship. How many three-day stretches had we blown past? 2 That night, back at the hotel, I had just finished reporting to headquarters and was settling in for the night when my phone vibrated. The group chat again. It was Carol Perkins, the same downstairs owner. This time, she posted a video. It was recorded from her balcony, and you could clearly hear a man and a woman laughing. The wind distortion made the audio scratchy, but the words were horrifyingly clear. The man’s voice, a low chuckle: “Got you. Call me Daddy.” Then the woman’s cooing, theatrical voice: “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy…” What followed was a sharp, drawn-out shriek, then a series of breathless, unmistakable sounds. The video cut off abruptly with the sound of Carol screaming an obscenity. The group chat exploded. [CarolPerkins]: Still going to tell me no one is home? What’s this, then? A ghost? [Mr.Singh]: Kids these days are wild. [BrodieJ]: I’ve heard this for days! It’s driving me nuts! So obsessed with being a “Daddy”? Go adopt ten kids from a foster home! [Mrs.Kim]: Call the police. Say someone’s running an illegal business up there. Let the cops teach them a lesson. Defeated, I posted my live location to the group, adding: “I promise, I am still out of town. I’m having a friend check the unit immediately.” That seemed to calm the other owners, but Carol was still furious. “If I find out who you are, I’m putting this on YouTube. I’ll make you famous.” I called my best friend, Kira Ashford. “Kira, can you do me a favor? Can you check my apartment? See if Holden is there.” Kira sounded winded, probably out on one of her late-night runs. “Sure, I’ll head over now. What is this, a post-mortem check? Worried Holden’s cheating?” I didn’t know how to answer. I couldn’t say it aloud. Kira paused, then laughed. “Relax. I’ll keep an eye on him. Don’t worry.” Half an hour later, Kira called back. “Holden’s definitely not there. But, Tracy, does your downstairs neighbor have a screw loose? When I was leaving, she was practically glued to your front door, trying to look through the peephole. She scared the hell out of me.” She scoffed. “She even muttered something at me—called me some kind of cheap tramp. Honestly, people are insane. Watch out for her, Tracy. She’s unhinged.” After Kira hung up, I realized I’d forgotten to ask her to check the camera plug. 3 Still, my work was going well, and I was going to be home ten days early. I decided not to bother her again. Holden and Kira had always had a tense relationship. Early in my courtship with Holden, he’d stood me up a few times for lab emergencies. I had complained to Kira, and she, fiery and protective, had tracked Holden down and ripped into him. It caused a huge fight. Since then, Holden would scowl whenever I mentioned her name, so I learned to keep them separate. Perhaps I shouldn’t have asked Kira to go over tonight. What if they had run into each other and fought again? But the audio recording… Call me Daddy. Who was that? That voice sounded terrifyingly familiar. Tossing and turning, unable to sleep, my phone buzzed again. A private message request in the owners’ group. It was Carol Perkins. She was persistent. The second I accepted the request, she aggressively sent me several clips from the elevator security footage. “It is you! I checked the building security. Don’t try to deny it. You’re messing with my son’s education, and I’m going to ruin you.” “You said no one was home. Then what is this?” “You’re the only unit on the eleventh floor right now, right?” In the grainy footage, a man and a woman hit the eleventh-floor button, then immediately began to embrace, their hands already exploring. The video quality was poor, but I knew those bodies. I knew that slouch. It was Holden. And Kira. I took a deep, shaky breath, then started a video call. Carol answered immediately. She looked at my face and gasped, eyes wide. “Oh, my. It really isn’t you! Who… who are those people? How do you not know who is in your own apartment?” My voice tasted like metal. “That’s my fiancé and my best friend.” “Oh, honey. Oh, no. I am so sorry. What are you going to do?” “Carol,” I said, forcing a calm I didn’t feel. “Help me. Keep an eye on them. I’m rushing back home now.” She immediately dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “You want to bust them? Done. The minute they show their faces, I’ll text you.” 4 I threw myself out of bed, called my partner, requested two days of emergency leave, and booked the first flight home. My partner looked at my pale face and offered a final warning as he drove me to the airport. “Tracy, whatever it is, think about the consequences. Don’t do anything that will create more trouble for yourself.” Just before boarding, I called Holden. It rang for a long time before he finally picked up. “Where are you? I’m coming home a few days early. Can you pick me up at the airport?” “The lab is swamped. I’ll see what I can do.” His voice was flat, distant. “Okay. You focus on your work then.” He waited, likely for me to coax him, to sweet-talk him into it. When I didn’t, he simply hummed and hung up. I stared out the window at the black night sky. My reflection stared back, my mouth a downturned arc of misery. I covered my face with my hands. When did it start? According to Carol, Holden and Kira had been playing the “Daddy” game in my apartment for nearly a month. Sometimes, even during the day. They were moving in and out together. With winter coats on and a lack of neighborhood interaction, the building staff and guards had simply assumed Kira was me. Holden wasn’t on the deed or in the group chat, so he had no idea the entire building was gossiping about him. I never would have known that the quiet, hyper-intellectual Holden was into role-play. I certainly never would have guessed that the rough-and-tumble tomboy, Kira, would be cooing “Daddy” in that sickeningly sweet voice. As the plane lifted off, I leaned back, pulling my sunglasses down. I was afraid I might start crying, and I didn’t want the flight attendant to see. When did they get together? How could they do this to me? 5 I met Holden during freshman orientation. He was two years ahead of me—tall, lean, and classically handsome, with an intense, quiet demeanor. He helped me haul my suitcases, got me my meal card, and helped me with all the orientation paperwork. I wanted to thank him with dinner, but he politely refused and rushed off. Later that evening, while eating with Kira and my other new roommates, I saw him again—working a shift at the campus cafeteria. Even in his simple uniform, his bookish air was unmistakable. A lock of hair fell over his clean, defined features, reminding me of a French New Wave actor, all silent longing. My heart pounded. In that single moment, I fell for him. I pursued Holden for two years, my crush a campus-wide joke. After graduation, he stayed for his Master’s. Everyone said he stayed for me. But Holden remained aloof. He was always busy with his research, always hustling to earn money. I couldn’t feel the love everyone else insisted he felt for me. He simply didn’t reject me. He didn’t refuse the movie tickets, the meals I brought him, or the clothes I bought. Feeling defeated, I broke up with him just before graduation. I told him I was moving back home. My parents had set up a job for me. He broke down. He held me and cried. “Tracy, please. Can you stay here, for me?” That day, he told me everything—about his difficult childhood, the father who abandoned him and his sick mother, and how his mother died in poverty. He talked about how he relied on charity to get through college. “Tracy, I have nothing. I’ve been afraid to accept your pursuit,” he choked out. “But the thought of you leaving me… I can’t bear it. Please, stay. For me.” Looking at his tear-drenched, pleading eyes, I made a terrible decision. I kissed him. I wasn’t all that different from him. I had an absent biological father, too. But I was lucky. My mother was an independent, successful woman, and my current father was wonderful. I convinced my parents to let me stay. They bought me an apartment. “A good foundation gives you leverage, Tracy. If you two separate, you’ll always have your own space.” My mother had urged caution. She didn’t want me to repeat her mistakes. “Even though I’m happy now, healing from that separation nearly destroyed me. They say men who can’t empathize with their mothers carry a certain type of damage, Tracy. That toxicity… it can be hereditary.” I had been so sure. I argued that Holden was nothing like his father. He would be loyal. I believed true love conquered all, and I wouldn’t follow my mother’s path. 6 Only a few years later, Holden had cheated with my best friend, using my apartment while I was away. My face was burning with shame. I had been blind. I had misjudged Holden and misjudged Kira. I had trusted them, giving them the perfect privacy to plot against me. Holden knew how much I despised my birth father. My mother’s experience had taught me a harsh lesson: cut your losses quickly. Dragging it out only causes more pain. I clenched my fists. A double betrayal. I would make them pay tenfold. When the plane landed, dawn hadn’t fully broken. Snow was beginning to fall. I quickly checked in with Carol Perkins while waiting for a taxi. Realizing I wouldn’t find a cab in this weather, I stopped a large, black car that had just pulled up to the curb. A tall, impeccably dressed man was putting luggage into the trunk, looking at me with an air of sophisticated curiosity. I looked up at him and pleaded, “Could you give me a ride? I’m rushing to catch a cheating fiancé.” “Excuse me?” The man’s driver, a friendly-looking guy named Dustin, jumped out. “Busting a cheater? Get in, get in! Where are we going? I’ll take you.” The tall man, Leland Shaw, let out a soft tsk, took my suitcase, loaded it, and then opened the passenger door, gesturing for me to sit in the front. I mumbled my thanks, embarrassed but grateful, and climbed in. Dustin started the car. “Don’t you worry, sweetie. I got you. You need me to swing a punch? You wanna key his car? I’ll be your brother-in-arms.” Leland coughed from the back. Dustin scoffed. “Lee, what’s with the cough? Look at this city girl. Her eyes are red. She’s heartbroken. Don’t worry, sweetie, I’m your witness.” I couldn’t help but smile slightly. “Thank you, but I’m not married yet.” I gave them the highly condensed version of the story. Dustin was furious. He turned to Leland in the back. “Lee, you gonna let her get pushed around like this?” “Look, sweetie, you trust me, I’ll help you teach him a lesson. You point, I hit.” 7 Leland let out a soft, amused laugh from the back seat. My cheeks flushed. I hadn’t just stopped any car. I had screened my targets. The value of the Rolls-Royce, Leland’s cashmere coat, the high-end luggage—a man this wealthy wasn’t likely to be a scammer. I was using them, and they were treating it like a piece of high-stakes entertainment. A mutually beneficial transaction. The goal wasn’t just to catch them. It was to ensure Holden and Kira suffered total public humiliation—social death. The thought of them playing that game, chasing each other in my space, made me physically ill. One of them destroyed my love, the other destroyed my trust. I wouldn’t stop until I had stripped them bare. The car pulled up to my building. I spotted Carol Perkins waiting in the lobby. Dustin grabbed my small carry-on bag, and Leland followed, hands deep in the pockets of his coat. Carol rushed over and nodded at me, eyes wide. Leland glanced at me, a slight, knowing smile on his lips. I pulled out my phone and called Holden. Unsurprisingly, no answer. I called Kira. It rang for ages. When she finally answered, her voice was slurred, thick with sleep. “Kira, where are you? Can you come over to my place right now?” “I’m asleep at home. Why would I come over this early? What’s going on?” “Holden’s cheating. I brought people back to catch him. Get over here and help me.” A strangled yelp came over the line. “What?! You’re back? Is this for real?” “I’m here. Just got off the elevator. Hurry up.” Hurry up and hide. Don’t waste the chance I’m giving you.

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As promised, the system cured my terminal illness, erased every trace of my existence, and sent me abroad. I thought I would never see him again. But six years later, that same system found me. It told me that there was a role for a malicious supporting female character, and it needed me to play it. “If I become malicious, mean, and greedy, Oliver Vance… will you still love me?” 1 The plane slowly descended, and the familiar bustling traffic and skyscrapers of the city unfolded before my eyes. Looking at the view from the window, I let out a deep breath. If the system hadn’t threatened me with complete erasure, I never would have agreed to come back. After all, our breakup back then was incredibly ugly. He chased me all the way to the airport. The corners of his eyes were red as he screamed my name through the crowded terminal, just to beg me not to leave. Forty-nine times. Each one more desperate than the last. But until my back disappeared at the end of the security checkpoint… He didn’t get a single response. Back then, he truly loved me. He loved me so much that even when I told him to his face I only approached him for his money, he didn’t care. I sold everything he gave me, even that ring, and boarded the plane to a foreign country. Before blocking him on WeChat, I left him one final message: “Sorry, Mr. Vance. It was just for fun. Why did you take it so seriously?” In the airport, the slender boy hunched over, practically breaking down, hot tears falling drop by drop. When he was ostracized and gossiped about for being the illegitimate son of a wealthy family, the only person who stood by his side had now abandoned him too. The only beam of light in his oppressive life had suddenly extinguished. The blow to him was massive. The scene was captured by a bystander and uploaded to the internet. The hashtag “Boy in Black Chases Ex to Airport Begging for Reconciliation” instantly went viral. Oliver’s identity was exposed that very day. He was a wealthy heir from a prominent family, where just the hair tie on his wrist cost tens of thousands. Six years passed. People were still constantly posting comparison videos of Oliver. The miserable, defeated boy in the airport had grown into a powerful, influential tycoon, his features now carrying an arrogant, ruthless edge. The caption below the video read: “Does the girl from the airport regret it now?” 2 Did I regret it? Maybe. If I had just broken up with him a little more gracefully back then, the current mission wouldn’t be so tricky. [Detected that the female lead, Chloe Thorne, is currently at KK Bar. Host, please proceed to the location immediately. Use your identity as the ‘first love’ to mock and belittle her.] Chloe Thorne? The wealthy heiress who relentlessly pursued Oliver in our senior year of high school? When she found out I was Oliver’s girlfriend, she purposely came to provoke me. She tore up my exam papers, threw cold water on me, and tried to force me to break up with him. I twitched the corner of my mouth. [System, your taste in female leads is seriously terrible.] [Host, please just focus on completing the mission.] The system’s voice remained cold and detached. 3 The bar at midnight was lively and loud. Wearing a black fishtail dress, I swayed my hips to the beat of the music, blending in with the dancing crowd. Even with heavy makeup, the woman in the distance noticed me. Her gaze closely followed my every move. I flipped my hair and turned my face fully in her direction. Soon, two men in black suits pulled me away from the dance floor. “It really is you, Elena Miller. “I didn’t expect you to have the guts to come back.” She swirled her wine glass, looking me up and down with a contemptuous gaze. Her haughty tone was exactly the same as it was back then. I rubbed my wrist, sat down across from her, and looked at her with eyes full of amusement. “What, afraid I’m back to steal Oliver away?” “Afraid? Afraid of what?” She acted as if she had heard a joke, the corners of her lips turning up even more. “You’re the one who should be afraid. “You didn’t just scam him out of his money back then; you scammed his feelings. He looked for you for years and couldn’t find you. And now, you show up yourself. You should know, Oliver hates deception and betrayal the most. “Guess how a vindictive man like him will torture you?” Her eyes held obvious schadenfreude. “Oh, well, that doesn’t change the fact that I’m his first love.” My tone was light and indifferent. The smile on her lips noticeably faded. “That was in the past,” she emphasized. “At least I was, once,” I retorted, latching onto her point. Amidst the blaring background music, we stared at each other. The amusement in my eyes grew stronger. She finally cracked, leaning in closer, gritting her teeth. “Elena, have you no shame? “You’ve been gone for so many years. Oliver has been mine for a long time now. “The person he loves now is me! Me! I’m warning you, stop being so delusional!” Saying that, she opened her phone. She forcefully pointed at an entertainment news headline in bold red font for me to see. A-List Actress Chloe Thorne and Powerful Tycoon Behave Intimately, Suspected Romance Exposed. The photos were blurry shots of a man and a woman from behind—eating at a restaurant, walking side-by-side on the street, getting into a car one after the other. I tapped the screen, zooming in on the blurry side profile. “Stop doubting it. It’s Oliver.” She curled her lips into a triumphant smile. “I never said it wasn’t him,” I replied flatly. She scoffed, then opened her photo album to show me. The background looked like a family gathering. A woman stood next to a man, her head resting slightly on his broad shoulder, smiling radiantly. I glanced at it twice, pushed the phone back, and leaned against my chair. Fingers laced together in my lap, I slowly rubbed my index finger. In six years, he had completely shed his boyish aura. Dressed in a sharp black suit, he looked cold and dominant. The eyes looking into the camera were utterly freezing. He used to be aloof and unapproachable, too. But whenever I touched the small mole at the corner of his eye… His eyelashes would flutter, and he would indulge my actions with a slow, unblinking gaze. He never possessed this intimidating, oppressive aura he had now. A slightly unfamiliar Oliver. As if reading my mind, the system spoke up indifferently: [No one stays the same, Host. He couldn’t possibly retain all his past feelings. Your identity as the ‘first love’ is just a facade now. You just need to use this facade to complete the mission.] I paused, downed the drink in my glass, and smiled. “He might not remember everything, but he couldn’t have forgotten everything, either.” Just as I stood up to leave, the person behind me suddenly stood up and shouted, “Elena! He only loves me now! I’ll say it again, don’t show your face here! Or he’ll skin you alive!” So stubborn. I stopped, turned around, and smiled. “Well, that’s unfortunate. I just signed with Oliver’s company. Guess we’ll be seeing each other every day.” “Elena! You did this on purpose, didn’t you?!” she demanded, furious. “Yep, on purpose. I haven’t forgotten the things you did to me using your family’s money back then. Guess who the company will give the better resources to from now on—you or me?” I kept smiling. She turned pale with anger, picking up her wine glass to throw it at me. But the next moment, her footsteps halted abruptly. In a daze, it felt as if the music in the bar had paused for a second. Sensing something, I followed her gaze and turned my head. Amidst the noise, a blurry yet familiar figure froze in my pupils. The man wore a long, black trench coat, the buttons left undone. The hair on his forehead was slightly messy from the wind, as if he had rushed over from a meeting. Countless eyes were on him. But he just stood there, looking at me. Across the crowd and the noise, it felt like a dream. A long-awaited reunion. I thought he should hate me. But I didn’t see any hatred or resentment in his eyes. Instead, there was a surge of some obscure, unspeakable emotion. “Hi. Long time no see.” In the end, I was the first to speak, smiling and greeting him. 4 We ended up eating together anyway. Throughout the meal, Chloe kept serving Oliver food, every action designed to show how intimate her relationship with him was now. And Oliver barely said a word. His jaw was tight, his face expressionless. But his gaze was restrained yet burning. Looking closely, there was even a hint of caution. I had to admit, it created a stark contrast within him. When dessert was finally served, Chloe saw the three small orange mousse cakes and covered her mouth, laughing. “Oh, Oliver, you still ordered my favorite. I remember Elena is allergic to mangoes, right?” She shot a triumphant look in my direction. But as soon as she finished speaking, a waiter placed a different small dessert plate in front of me. “Miss, your chocolate mousse.” “Hmm?” I looked up at the man across from me. “For you.” His voice was very soft, but his eyes uncontrollably fell on me, carrying a faint anticipation. It was my favorite flavor from the past. I paused, put on a smile, and said politely, “Thank you, Mr. Vance.” 5 “Next mission: Sow discord between the male and female leads, and steal the female lead’s script.” In the restroom, I was carefully touching up my makeup in the mirror. I asked, surprised, “That simple?” The system paused. [Host, you’d better have a clear understanding of yourself. [Don’t forget how you abandoned the male lead back then.] I touched my freshly glossed lips and smiled. [System, I think you’re underestimating the destructive power of a ‘first love.’] In the mirror, those narrow, cold eyes suddenly met mine. “Is there something you need?” I put my lipstick back in my bag and turned around calmly. He pressed his lips together, looking at me silently, his eyes as dark as ink. His Adam’s apple bobbed as if he wanted to say something, but he remained silent. I chuckled and casually called his name, “Oliver.” The slightly raised intonation at the end was exactly the same as it was back then. His hands clenched tightly at his sides, his knuckles turning white. I just stood there, eyes smiling, watching him leisurely. [System, see that? [The first love doesn’t have to do anything. [The first love just needs to stand there, and it hurts him to his very core, agonizingly so.] The system was silent for a long time before saying, [Host, you are very cruel.] [Aren’t the ones who designed this mission cruel too?] I lowered my eyes indifferently. They insist on giving this interrupted story the worst possible ending. Forcing the boy to watch helplessly as everything from his past is destroyed in a tragedy. 6 I forget how we ended up kissing. I only remember that, as our breaths mingled and our eyes met, the emotions in his eyes churned like a stormy sea. The next moment, I was pinned against the wall. An oppressive, vindictive kiss fell upon me, urgent and fiery. Just as I was running out of breath, he gradually slowed down, becoming gentle, reverent, and cautious. Eventually, he held me tightly, his forehead resting against my neck, breathing deeply. He seemed incredibly wounded and fragile. My heart trembled slightly. My shoulder felt a little damp. I looked at his slightly messy hair and couldn’t resist reaching out to smooth it. “I have a room on the top floor. Want to come up?” “Yes.” His voice was muffled and raspy. 7 The lights in the room were off. My kisses fell on his neck, his collarbone. Unable to handle it, he fell back onto the sofa, panting heavily. I gently bit his earlobe, asking with practiced ease and a light laugh, “Oliver, do you like it?” His expression visibly froze. I was using him. Using his past feelings to manipulate him. His expression turned cold. Just before he could push me away, I kissed him again. I easily pried open his lips, gradually taking over. Slowly, the hand pushing me away lost its strength. … “What do you want?” His voice was hoarse, suppressing his emotions. The redness at the corners of his eyes hadn’t faded, and his large hands rested restrained on my lower back. I thought he would ask where I’d been all these years, why I didn’t come back, why I lied to him, or maybe settle old scores and say something harsh. But he didn’t. He chose to ask a question about the present. Asking what my motive was for approaching him. I rested my chin on one hand, my fingers casually tapping his abs. With a beaming smile, I said, “The lead female role in Chloe’s new drama. You know I don’t like her.” [Host, you’d better not be this direct.] The system couldn’t help but issue a warning. [No one would agree to your request under these circumstances.] Is that so? I looked at the man in front of me with those beautiful, smiling eyes. He pressed his lips together tightly, holding my gaze. I could even feel the rise and fall of his chest and his faint breaths. One second. Two seconds. Three seconds. “Can you do that?” I asked. The defenses he had built in his heart were effortlessly shattered. His Adam’s apple bobbed. He looked deeply at me and rasped out a single word: “Yes.” The smile on my lips deepened. “Thank you, Mr. Vance.” I straightened up, preparing to rise, and casually added, [System, I suggest you stay quiet while I’m doing my missions, otherwise the face-slapping every time…] Suddenly, two large hands grabbed my waist. Caught off guard, I fell back onto his lap. “Elena.” He buried his face in my neck, breathing deeply. I froze. My mind went blank for a second. A muffled, hoarse voice came from my neck, carrying a deep sense of helplessness and an indescribable longing. He said, “Please, stop playing with me. ” I can’t take being played like this.” 8 Oliver drove me back. The car pulled up smoothly in front of a hotel. Just as I unbuckled my seatbelt to get out, he suddenly reached out and grabbed me. “You’re staying here?” “Is there a problem?” He rolled down the window, looking at the neon hotel sign missing a letter and the unattended front desk. “It’s not safe.” “This hotel was investigated for some issues a few years ago.” The dim yellow interior light spilled onto the messy hair on his head. He looked at me, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly, and asked, “Stay at my place. Please?” I didn’t answer. I just followed his gaze out the window. Old wooden windows swayed in the wind, and the surrounding area was completely deserted. Because the system had rushed me to the bar the moment I got off the plane, I didn’t have much time and just found the nearest hotel to drop my bags. I didn’t expect the hotel, which looked fine in the afternoon, to look so creepy at night. “It’s fine,” I swallowed hard. “I checked it out this afternoon. It’s livable.” At this point, I had secretly resolved to sprint upstairs as fast as possible, lock the door, and hide under the covers. Just as my hand touched the door handle, the person next to me spoke again, “I think I just saw a woman in a white dress with disheveled hair walk by.” Seeing me freeze, he added very softly, “She looked like she was floating.” After a brief second of hesitation, I decisively let go of the door handle and leaned back in my seat.

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My husband couldn’t forget his “the one that got away.” Whenever he went to keep his terminally ill childhood sweetheart company, he would drop hints, asking if we could get a divorce. Because her dying wish was to legally be his wife. Today, he hinted at it again. I didn’t cry, and I didn’t cause a scene. I just calmly said, “Okay.” Because we had already had this exact conversation ninety-nine times. Today was the one hundredth. And I had finally found the perfect reason to convince myself to walk away. I had a miscarriage. Our baby was gone. Now, the only thing connecting him and me was a thin piece of paper—our marriage certificate.

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My husband was “sick” again. He lay in bed, trembling under the duvet, claiming he was too terrified to even call in to work. He looked so fragile, so broken by the pressure of his “accounting job,” that I felt a pang of maternal protection. When I offered to call his supervisor for him, he gripped my wrist, his eyes wide with a desperate, almost feral plea. He begged me not to. He begged me to stay away from his office. I relented, stroking his hair until he seemed to drift off, but the guilt gnawed at me. We were drowning in debt. We were living in a studio where the wallpaper peeled like sunburnt skin because he had “lost everything” in a failed startup years ago. I couldn’t let him lose this job, too. So, I went. I took the bus to the address on his pay stub, rehearsing a speech about a sudden flu and a dedicated employee. But when I stepped into the lobby of the gleaming glass-and-steel skyscraper in the Financial District, the air felt different. Expensive. Cold. The receptionist looked at me as if I were a smudge on a Da Vinci. Her eyes swept over my faded Target cardigan and my scuffed heels—shoes I’d worn for five years because we “couldn’t afford” new ones. “I’m here to speak with Nate’s manager,” I said, my voice small. “Nate Miller. He’s an accountant here.” The woman’s brow furrowed in genuine confusion. “Are you joking? There is no ‘accountant’ here named Nate Miller.” “I… I have his pay stub,” I stammered, reaching into my purse. “Ma’am,” she interrupted, her voice dropping to a tone of pitying disbelief. “Nathaniel Miller is the Founder and CEO of this firm. And Mr. Miller arrives every morning with his wife. They just went up to the executive suite together.” My heart didn’t just break; it shattered, the shards slicing into my lungs. “His wife?” “Yes. And, forgive me, but you don’t look like her.” The elevator dings. The doors slid open. There he was. My husband, the man who had been “trembling in bed” an hour ago, was now draped in a bespoke charcoal suit that probably cost more than our annual rent. His arm was wrapped firmly around the waist of a woman who looked like she’d stepped off a Parisian runway. Madison. His “one that got away.” The girl he told me was a “painful memory” from his college days. 1. Our eyes met. His practiced, charismatic smile curdled on his face. I looked at him—this stranger in high-end wool—and a laugh bubbled up in my throat, hot and salty with tears. “That watch,” I whispered, pointing at the Patek Philippe on his wrist. “It’s worth my entire yearly salary. And yet, for seven years, you’ve played the part of the struggling clerk making fifty grand a year.” The lobby went silent. The security guards shifted uncomfortably. “You told me your startup went bust. I sold my parents’ house—the only thing they left me—to plug the holes in your ‘debt.’ I spent my days coding until my eyes bled and my nights working the graveyard shift at a 7-Eleven. I had a stomach ulcer from the stress and refused to go to the hospital because we ‘couldn’t afford’ the co-pay!” My voice rose to a shriek. “Tell me, Nate! Why? Why play this game with my life?” Nate stammered, his mouth opening and closing like a landed fish. Madison, however, didn’t miss a beat. She reached out and delicately gripped my wrist, her silk sleeve brushing my skin. “Caitlin, don’t blame him,” she said, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness. “When he married you, he made a vow to me. He told me that everything he had—his body, his wealth, his future—belonged to me. You were just the placeholder. Don’t go coveting things that were never yours.” Seven years. I thought we were a team, a fortress against the world. It turns out I was just a supporting actress in a script I hadn’t been allowed to read. But I was his legal wife. I was the one who signed the papers. “Shut up, Madison. This isn’t your conversation,” I snapped, my eyes burning as I turned back to Nate. “Nate, look at me. Is this true? All of it?” Nate sighed, a sound of profound annoyance, as if I were a bug he’d forgotten to squash. “Caitlin, listen to me. I was afraid that if you became a ‘society wife,’ you’d lose your drive. I didn’t want to hurt your pride. Besides, didn’t you say you’d always take care of me? You said you loved me for me, not my money.” “Don’t you dare gaslight me!” My voice trembled with fury. “Seven years! We’ve been married for seven years! You didn’t know who I was by then? If I lacked drive, would I have sold my childhood home to save you? Would I have worked twenty-hour days to keep us afloat?” I took a step back, my footing uneven. My heel was worn down to the plastic—I’d been meaning to get them repaired for months but kept putting it off to save the thirty dollars. My gaze drifted to Madison. She was wearing Valentino pumps. A Tiffany HardWear bracelet sparkled on her wrist. I remembered Nate joking once, “When I make it big, I’m going to buy you so much jewelry you’ll have to hire a guard just to walk to the mailbox.” He had made it big. He just gave the jewelry to someone else. “What about her?” I asked, the bitterness coating my tongue. Nate glanced at Madison. “Maddie and I… we’re just partners. She’s looking to invest in the firm.” Madison’s face fell. “Nate!” He squeezed her hand, a silent signal, then looked back at me. “She’s my ex, Caitlin. You knew that. I never lied about my past. We’re working together now. That’s all.” “Then what did she mean by what she just said?” I demanded. Nate gave Madison a cautious look, his tone turning dismissive. “Oh, you know Maddie. She loves to stir the pot. She was just joking—” “I wasn’t joking,” Madison interrupted. “Nate, didn’t you tell me that on your wedding night? While you were on FaceTime with me while Caitlin was asleep right next to—” “Madison!” Nate barked. She shrugged, falling silent, but the damage was done. The floor seemed to fall away beneath me. Nate wouldn’t look me in the eye. His guilt was finally being overtaken by impatience. “Don’t listen to her. It’s nothing. Just go home, Caitlin. I have a meeting with a client. I’ll come back tonight and explain everything.” I took a deep breath, the cold air of the lobby stinging my throat. “You don’t need to explain anything.” “Nate, I want a divorce.” “I am done with you. Eight million dollars.” I looked him in the eye. “Eight words. One million for every year you stole, plus one for the house you took from me. It’s a bargain to get me out of your life and marry your ‘partner,’ don’t you think?” “Caitlin, be reasonable. Let’s go home and talk.” I cut him off. “Home? You mean the apartment with the moldy ceiling and the seven-hundred-dollar rent?” I started to laugh, a jagged, broken sound. His face shifted. People were starting to stare; the morning rush of employees was filling the lobby. He grabbed my arm, trying to pull me toward the side exit. “Don’t make a scene here. It’s bad for business.” “Let go,” I hissed. He gripped tighter. “Is this what it’s about? Money? You think I’ve been holding out on you? You’ve lived off me for seven years, Caitlin. I’ve given you a roof and a bed. Isn’t that enough? You’re acting like a victim because you want a payday.” He leaned in, his voice dropping to a cruel whisper. “I’ve slept with you for seven years for free. You should be grateful. And the more you act like a psycho in public, the less likely I am to give you a single cent.” I stared at him, paralyzed. I didn’t recognize this man. Or perhaps, I had never known him at all. Madison let out a sharp, mocking laugh. “Come on, Nate. This is embarrassing. Didn’t you promise to buy me that new Birkin before our lunch meeting?” Nate didn’t even hesitate. “Of course. Anything you want. And we’ll stop by the dealership later—your lease is up, and you need something more impressive for the investors.” Madison threw me a triumphant look. “Hear that? Nate’s money is my money. You want eight million? You’re dreaming. But hey, you did a decent job taking care of him while I was gone. Tell you what—if you call me ‘Ma’am,’ I’ll talk Nate into buying you a new pair of shoes to replace those thrift-store tragedies you’re wearing.” That hurt more than a physical blow. I thought of the years I spent clipping coupons. The five-year-old winter coat I wore until the seams burst. The makeup I never bought. The nights at the convenience store being harassed by drunks while I worried about Nate’s “mental health.” The humiliation boiled over. As Madison leaned in, her face twisted in a smug sneer, I swung. I put every ounce of my seven years of resentment into a slap that echoed through the marble lobby. Madison staggered back, her hand flying to her cheek. Time stopped. Seconds later, she let out a piercing, hysterical shriek. “You bitch! You absolute loser! Nate! She hit me!” Nate reacted instantly. He stepped in front of Madison, cupping her face with a tenderness he hadn’t shown me in years. “Caitlin, have you lost your mind?” He raised his hand. I didn’t even have time to flinch before his palm connected with my face. The world blurred. My cheek burned with a white-hot sting. “Don’t you touch her!” I screamed through the pain. “I’ll do more than touch you!” Nate roared. “You think you’re special? You’re a low-level coder who can’t even get a promotion. If you were worth anything, would you still be working a register at midnight after seven years of marriage? You’re a failure, Caitlin. You’re stagnant. You’re a loser.” He leaned closer, his eyes cold and dark. “Do you know how embarrassing it is to tell people you’re my wife? I tell everyone you’re the maid. I’m ashamed of you.” I felt a warm trickle down my lip. Blood. The metallic taste filled my mouth. I thought of all the times my boss had piled extra work on me because he knew I was desperate for the money to pay Nate’s “debts.” I’d never told Nate because I didn’t want him to worry. And now, my sacrifices were the weapons he was using to disembowel me. I looked at them both, my voice raspy and cold. “Nate, from this moment on, we are through.” He blinked, momentarily stunned. “What?” “You think eight million is too much? Fine. We’ll let the lawyers decide. I want every penny you hid. I want half of this company—the company you built with my parents’ inheritance. I want half of the cars, the houses, and the bags you bought her. I’m going to take you for every cent you’re worth.” Madison looked up, her eyes narrowing. “In your dreams.” I didn’t answer. I turned and walked toward the glass doors. Every step sent a throb of pain through my face. Every step, I felt the blood cooling on my chin. But I kept my back straight. You can break a woman’s heart, but you can’t take her spine. By the time I left the lawyer’s office, the sun had long since set. I dragged myself back to the apartment we shared. When I opened the door, a large Rimowa suitcase sat open in the middle of the living room. Nate was tossing his silk shirts into it. Madison was curled up on our sagging sofa, scrolling through her phone. “You’re back?” Nate said, his tone as casual as if he were asking about the weather. “Good. I have something to tell you.” “Madison has a heart condition. That slap you gave her triggered an episode. The doctor says she needs constant supervision. I’ll be staying at her place for a while.” I walked over and picked up a box of Magnums from the corner of his suitcase. “Is this part of her ‘heart medication’?” He snatched them out of my hand, looking annoyed. “They got caught in my laundry. Don’t be hysterical. I know you’re upset about today, but Madison needs me right now. I’ll come back in a few days to explain things when you’ve calmed down.” Needs me. When he needed someone to sacrifice their future, I was there. Now that I needed him to be a human being, he was with her. “Fine,” I said. I walked into the bedroom. I opened the closet and started pulling out the rest of his things. When I got to the photos, I paused. A framed picture from our wedding day. I was radiant. He looked like he’d won the lottery. “Caitlin, what are you doing?” he asked, following me in. There was a flicker of genuine panic in his voice now. “You said you were leaving.” I didn’t look at him as I tossed the frame into the trash bag. “I said for a few days—” “No. You’re leaving for good. Take your things, take the woman who ‘needs’ you, and get out.” Nate lunged for the trash bag, retrieving the wedding photo and placing it carefully back on the dresser. “Stop acting out. I’ll be back as soon as she’s stable.” Madison appeared in the doorway. “Nate, I just sent you the pitch deck for my new venture. It’s a guaranteed win. Can you take a look?” Nate barely glanced at his phone before nodding. “Don’t worry about it, babe. I’ll have the CFO wire ten million to your account tomorrow.” Ten million. I thought of the 7-Eleven shifts. The thousands of lines of code I’d written for freelance pittance. I would have to work several lifetimes to see ten million dollars. Madison saw me looking at the phone. She smirked. “Jealous, Caitlin? You want to try your hand at business? Or are you just going to stare at my deck?” Nate scoffed. “Please. She doesn’t know a bull market from a flea market. If she tried to trade, she’d lose her shirt in ten minutes. She’s built to be an employee, nothing more.” I cut him off, my voice like ice. “Are you finished?” He blinked. “Then get out. Get out of my apartment.” “Caitlin, this is our—” “No. I pay the rent. I pay the utilities. I bought every piece of furniture in here while you were ‘bankrupt.’ You haven’t contributed a dime to this household in seven years. You’re a squatter. Leave. Now.” He opened his mouth to argue, then closed it. He knew I was right. For seven years, I had funneled every spare cent into his “debts” while he spent his millions on Madison. “Fine,” Nate said, his voice hardening. “I’m going. But don’t come crawling back when you realize how cold the world is without me.” “Go.” The door slammed shut. The silence that followed was deafening—the hum of the old fridge, the thump of my own heart. I sank to the floor and finally let the tears come. My phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number. It was a photo. Nate, fast asleep in a plush hotel bed, Madison’s head resting on his bare chest. The caption read: Thanks for letting him go. He’s finally where he belongs. I stared at the photo for a long time. Then, I typed back: You’re welcome. Thanks for taking out the trash. My private investigator had told me Nate was careful—never any physical proof of cheating. Well, now I had it. The next morning, I stood in the HR office of the tech firm where I worked. The paper in front of me was a joke. Embezzlement? $3.2 million? “This is absurd,” I said to the HR Director. “I’m a lead dev. I handle code, not wire transfers. I don’t even have the authorization for an amount that large.” The Director looked at me with a flicker of pity behind his glasses. “The company was acquired over the weekend, Caitlin. The new ownership flagged the discrepancy.” “Who bought us?” “A holding company. Owned by a Madison Vance.” I didn’t wait. I stormed upstairs to the executive suite. I shoved past the secretary and burst into the corner office. Madison was sitting behind the mahogany desk. Nate was standing by the window, looking over some files. “Ah, the star developer arrives,” Madison said, her smile razor-sharp. “Or should I say, the former star developer?” “Nate, this audit is a lie,” I said, forcing myself to stay calm. “Any purchase over ten thousand requires three levels of approval. I don’t have signing authority. The system logs will prove I never touched those accounts.” Nate finally looked at me. “The logs were hit by a ‘hacker’ last night, Caitlin. Most of the data was wiped. Strangely, the only records left are the ones tied to your credentials.” A cold realization washed over me. “I built the security architecture for this company. I wrote the firewall rules. You’re telling me someone bypassed my encryption just to frame me for a mid-level embezzlement?” Madison leaned back in the chair. “Internal jobs are always the easiest, aren’t they? A few modified log files, a few forged invoices… light work for a genius like you.” “You tampered with the database.” Madison stood up. “Talk is cheap. The evidence says you stole three million dollars. You’re looking at a massive civil suit and potentially prison time. Unless…” she leaned in, “you want to get on your knees and beg? Maybe I’ll tell Nate to go easy on the damages.” I felt like I was going to throw up. “Nate? You’re going along with this? You’ve lied to me for seven years, and now you’re trying to destroy my life? Why? Do you hate me that much?” His face went pale for a second. Madison lunged forward, grabbing my arm. “Who do you think you’re talking to?” “Get off me!” I shoved her back. “You want me to beg? You want me to crawl like a dog? In your dreams. I’m not paying a cent, and I’m not admitting to a crime I didn’t commit. Call the police. I’ll see you in court.” Nate’s lip trembled. He looked like he wanted to say something, but Madison was faster. “Nate, go grab a coffee. Let me handle this ‘negotiation.’” He hesitated, then turned and walked out, the heavy oak door clicking shut behind him. The moment he was gone, Madison’s mask dropped. “Let’s be real, Caitlin. You’re just bitter because Nate chose me. You’re bitter because the divorce settlement won’t be as big as you hoped. You’re bitter because of that photo I sent.” I froze. “Oh, did that hit a nerve? It was a great night, by the way. Nate was… inspired. We went through three boxes of condoms.” The blood roared in my ears. “What do you want, Madison?” “I want you to admit you lost. Nate’s mine. His heart, his money, his future. This company is mine. You’re just trash that needs to be cleared out. Sign a waiver, walk away with nothing, and never file for divorce. Do that, and the ’embezzlement’ charges vanish.” “Three million dollars, Caitlin. Think about how many years of ‘graveyard shifts’ that would take to pay back.” Something snapped. The logic, the restraint, the years of playing the “good wife”—it all vanished. I lunged at her, pinning her against the desk, my hand raised to strike. The door flew open. Nate stood there, his face contorted with rage. Madison whimpered, touching a corner of her mouth where there wasn’t even any blood. “Nate! She’s attacking me again! I tried to be nice, and she just snapped!” “I didn’t—” “Enough!” Nate yelled. He spoke into his intercom. Two large security guards appeared instantly. They grabbed my arms, wrenching them behind my back. One of them kicked the back of my knees, forcing me to the floor. My face was pressed against the cold plush carpet. “Madison,” Nate said, his voice devoid of any humanity. “Whatever she did to you, give it back.” Madison walked over, her heels clicking like a countdown. She stopped right in front of my face. Then, she ground the stiletto of her Valentino pump into my cheek. “This is for the lobby,” she whispered. Then, she kicked me. Hard. My nose shattered. The warmth of the blood was the only thing I could feel. I didn’t even feel the pain—just a profound, hollow sense of irony. Seven years of devotion. This was the dividend. “You’re pathetic, Caitlin,” Nate said from somewhere above me. “I’m calling the police. Let’s see how tough you are behind bars.” His phone rang. He looked at the screen, his expression shifting from anger to confusion. He answered it. As he listened, his face went from pale to ghostly. He hung up and looked at me, his voice a ghost of itself. “You… you actually served me? The divorce papers… you filed them this morning?”

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