Category: English

It was Christmas Eve, and I had just finished hand-rolling three hundred pieces of porcini mushroom and ricotta agnolotti. Garrett, my husband, took every single tray and gave them to Lila. Lila was my closest friend—and Garrett’s sister-in-law. 1 We had moved together, trading the genteel charm of Savannah, Georgia, for the high-tech bustle of Seattle, Washington. I married the older brother, Garrett Reed. She married the younger, Owen Reed. Those agnolotti were my favorite, a labor of love Garrett had spent months learning to make when he was courting me, traveling to different Italian chefs across the South to master the delicate dough. He’d called it our exclusive flavor. At seven that evening, the snow was falling outside in heavy, silent drifts. I had just pinched the final piece of pasta closed when Owen called. His voice was strained with a mix of confusion and irritation. “Harper, where is she? Didn’t Lila say she was having dinner at your place tonight? Mom and the whole family are waiting for us back at the estate.” My stomach dropped. I looked back at the empty, meticulously clean kitchen. “Garrett didn’t bring her back? They left here around three this afternoon.” The line went silent for a long moment, then Owen’s voice came back, sharp with suppressed fury. “Garrett took Lila? Where did he take her?” My hands went instantly cold, the dusting of flour on my fingertips feeling like ice crystals. Garrett returned hours later, bringing a blast of the cold night air and a distinct scent of women’s perfume. Lila’s favorite, that cloyingly sweet, hard-to-find artisan scent. “Where are the agnolotti?” I asked him. He shrugged off his expensive, custom-tailored coat, revealing a pristine cashmere sweater. He answered with unnerving ease. “I gave them to Lila. She and Owen are having issues, and she’s barely eating. I wanted her to have a taste of home to cheer her up.” He walked toward me, attempting his usual comforting embrace, but I stepped sideways, dodging him. “Garrett, I spent the entire afternoon making those.” My voice was trembling. “Why didn’t you call me? Why didn’t you tell me?” The gentle expression on his face dissolved, replaced by a flash of impatience. “It’s really not a big deal, Harper. Why are you still so small-minded about things?” He ran a hand through his hair. “Lila is the family’s cherished darling. She’s your friend, she’s my sister-in-law. Can’t you just cut her some slack? She moved here from a smaller town, she doesn’t have a support system—if we don’t look out for her, who will?” My eyes instantly stung with tears. And what about me? I moved here from a small town, too. I’m directionally challenged and chronically anxious. In this city, without him, I can barely find my way home. But in his mind, Lila’s sensitivity was a delicate trait; mine was just being small-minded. “She has Owen, she has your parents, she has you—the protective older brother. Who do I have?” I stared him down. “Garrett, I only have you.” My words seemed to sting him. He frustratedly pulled at his tie, took a thick wad of bills from his wallet, and tossed it onto the kitchen counter. “It was just a meal. I’ll replace it!” “I’ll take you to the most exclusive restaurant in Seattle. Order whatever you want! Stop being so petty over something this trivial. It makes you look like a child.” The cash scattered across the granite, a silent, mocking testament to my wasted hours and high expectations. A wave of nausea hit me, violent and sudden. I rushed to the bathroom, throwing up until I was dry heaving. Garrett followed, but offered no comfort. He just stood in the doorway, watching me with a cold stare. “Harper, have you made your point? You’re going to ruin Lila’s marriage with your pointless jealousy.” “If you keep this up, we have nothing left to talk about.” The door slammed shut behind him, the force of it rattling the wall. I slid down the cold tile, resting against the porcelain. Every bit of strength had been drained from me. Just then, Lila posted on Instagram. A single photo, centered in a nine-square grid. The background was the buttery leather of Garrett’s flashy Porsche 911 Carrera. She was in the passenger seat, smiling a picture of contentment, clutching a sleek insulated food container—the one holding my agnolotti. The caption: Thank you, big brother. You always know exactly what I need. Beneath it, Garrett’s mother, our mother-in-law, was the first to comment: As long as Lila is happy! If Owen gives you any trouble, you tell me. Your Big Brother and I will handle him! The rest of the Reed relatives chimed in: “Our Lila is so resilient. Not like some people who can’t think about anyone but themselves.” “Right? A man’s fortune is made by the wife he chooses. Garrett is truly blessed.” I stared at the blindingly cruel comments, my chest tightening as if an invisible fist were squeezing the air from my lungs. It was clear. In their eyes, I was the one who didn’t belong here. 2 The next morning, Garrett acted as if nothing had happened, bringing breakfast home. “Harp, I was out of line yesterday. I shouldn’t have lost my temper.” He softened his voice and wrapped his arms around me from behind. “Look, I got you that artisan French pastry you love. It’s still warm.” I didn’t turn around. My voice was as cold as the snow outside. “Garrett, I think we need some time apart.” His arms instantly went rigid. “Harper, what are you talking about? Over a box of pasta?” “Can you please act like an adult? Lila and I truly have a sibling bond. She and Owen are struggling, and it’s my responsibility as the older brother to look out for her.” “I’m just concerned about her. I haven’t done anything to betray you. Do you really need to escalate this to separating?” I finally turned to face him, asking deliberately, “Have you ever considered that your ‘concern’ has crossed into a demolition zone for our boundaries?” “Have you considered how Owen feels? How I feel?” “Does your life, our life, and our marriage, always come second to Lila?” My questions left him speechless, his face cycling from pale white to an angry red. Finally, he exhaled, looking utterly defeated. He sighed wearily. “Fine. I promise. I will keep my distance. No more private meet-ups outside of family functions. Just work and group texts. Are you satisfied now?” He believed this was just another routine fight, a truce he could buy with a simple apology and a promise. But he didn’t realize that some things, once broken, can never be fully restored. For a while, Garrett kept his word. His interactions with Lila were limited to polite nods at family dinners, and his texts to her were only sparse messages in the family group chat. He started coming home on time. He bought me thoughtful little gifts. He patiently helped me, the lifelong directionally-challenged wife, explore the corners of this unfamiliar city. The atmosphere in our home softened, returning to its comfortable, sweet rhythm. I even started to wonder if I had been too sensitive. Until I found the old iPad, almost forgotten, shoved into a drawer in his study. It was logged into a second, separate social media account I’d never seen, with only his close family members and in-laws as followers. Its feed was an entire world I hadn’t known existed—a private world belonging to him and Lila. He’d taken her to her child’s PTA meeting. The photo showed the three of them—Garrett, Lila, and the kid—smiling brightly, looking like a perfect little family. The caption: Our little champ. He had spent the night by her hospital bed when she was sick, taking a photo of her sleeping profile. The caption: Your big brother is here. Don’t worry. He had even taken her to see her favorite musician on our wedding anniversary, simply because she’d fought with Owen and couldn’t get a ticket. His post showed the stage lights, captioned: Your wish is my command. Every single post was filled with “heartfelt” comments and praise from the Reed family relatives. “Our Garrett is so responsible. So much better than that brat Owen.” “Lila truly has good fortune, having such a great older brother.” “This is what real family looks like. So much love.” I felt like a ridiculous intruder, a thief in the night, spying on my husband’s and my best friend’s blissful life—a life from which I was clearly, painstakingly excluded. With trembling fingers, I scrolled back to the Christmas Eve chat log. Lila messaged him: Big brother, is Harper going to be mad? These agnolotti looked like she made them just for you. Maybe I should send them back. Garrett’s reply: Don’t worry about it. She’s not that small-minded. Enjoy them. I’ll sort it out if she complains. Lila: Brother, you’re so good to me. If only I had married you… Garrett: Stop that foolish talk. But remember this: no matter what happens, your brother is always your rock. My blood felt like it froze solid in that moment. All our arguments, all our periods of cold silence, were just me being a “small-minded” nuisance in his eyes. And all his concessions, all his promises to me, were just empty gestures meant to placate me so he could more comfortably remain Lila’s “rock.” My entire life felt like one huge, embarrassing joke.

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The year I was eight, I was held captive and tormented for three days to save young Garrett Sinclair. The trauma left me with severe prosopagnosia—face blindness. He had tied the blue silk cord I gave him around his wrist, his eyes red-rimmed as he promised: “Sloane, I’ll wear this forever. That way, no matter where I go, you’ll always be able to find me.” For over a decade, that flash of blue had been the only steady light in my dark, visually confusing world. Until the night before our wedding, when I overheard him talking to his friends. “Garrett, you really pulled out all the stops to get close to Willow. I mean, what about Sloane Kingsley? If she ever figures out the person she’s been sleeping with isn’t you, but her adopted brother… she’ll lose it, man.” Garrett swirled the glass in his hand, his voice a casual, effortless dismissal. “She only recognizes the blue cord. She’ll never notice.” “To be the blissfully ignorant Mrs. Sinclair for life? That’s her good fortune.” 1 I froze. Every muscle went cold. Willow Blackwood was my most trusted friend. Devon, my adopted brother, was the only family member who had painstakingly raised me, treating me like the most precious thing in the world. Garrett was the single star in my pitch-black universe. Yet, I had been living inside their perfect lie all along, unable to even recognize the face of the man in my own bed. His friend spoke again, a note of sympathy in his voice. “It’s a shame you and Willow are soulmates, but you’re stuck by this debt of gratitude. Gotta keep the affair underground.” “Thank God Devon Kingsley is covering for you. It’s the only way you can be with Willow while she gets through her pregnancy.” Willow… was pregnant? The pain already constricting my heart was brutally sliced open again. Someone else chimed in, curious. “So, G, you’re really going through with marrying Sloane?” Garrett frowned. “It’s just a name, a gesture to settle a debt. The heir to the Sinclair fortune will only ever be Willow’s child. Don’t get the wrong idea.” “As for Sloane, I’ll make damn sure she never gets pregnant with my child.” I was trembling, the ultrasound photo crumpled in my white-knuckled hand, my mind a blank void. Two months ago, Garrett had promised to be there for my birthday, but he was late. I was blowing out the candles alone when he finally wrapped his arms around me from behind. He presented me with a massive bouquet of ‘Shattered Ice Blue’ roses, his voice low and husky as he apologized for the delay, claiming he’d been collecting the rare flowers. That night, he’d been drunk, and we were intimate until morning. My nerves and frantic inexperience had made me overlook a crucial detail: Garrett was severely allergic to pollen. Now, the truth was blinding. He never could have sent those flowers. After that ‘accident,’ I hadn’t been able to keep food down. I’d gone to the doctor today, only to learn I was pregnant. My heart was bursting with shy happiness, and I’d rushed here, desperate to tell him the surprise. Instead, I had stumbled onto this visceral, gut-wrenching truth. So, this child… I didn’t dare finish the thought, a shiver running through me. What kind of monsters had I been living with, day in and day out? I stuffed the prenatal scan back into my purse, unable to listen anymore, and turned to walk away.

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1 I was born bad. A rot in the blood. Kidnapped as a toddler, I ended up slaughtering the entire backwoods cult that raised me. By the time my biological parents found me, I had reinvented myself as a quiet, nondescript lab technician at a chemical plant. After the reunion, my twin sister, Mia, would visit me often. She brought me homemade lunches and bought me soft, pastel dresses. Her eyes were always smiling. “Maya, you’re too thin. You need to eat.” “Maya, you suffered so much when you were taken. From now on, I’m going to spoil you.” Later, Mia fell in love. She blushed when she told me, “Maya, I’m getting married. It’s Julian Sterling. You know, the billionaire family? I know you hate crowds, so I’ll have Mom livestream the wedding for you.” “Maya, once I’m a trophy wife, I’ll have a huge allowance. I’ll send you money every month. You won’t have to work at that smelly plant anymore.” But I never got the livestream link. Instead, I got her body. Broken. Twisted. In that instant, the dormant gene—the urge to kill that I had suppressed for years—woke up. … I found Mia’s body in the woods outside “The Haven,” an exclusive reform school for the elite. Her limbs were shattered, her neck bruised, and she died pregnant. My blood boiled. I hugged her cold body tight. A phone slipped out of her dress pocket, lighting up with a text: 【Have you learned your lesson at The Haven yet? Behave, and stop bullying Lydia. I’ll give you the grandest wedding. I’ll make you the happiest bride on earth.】 Sender: 【Hubby Julian】 My eyes stung. My hands trembled as I replied: 【Hubby, I was wrong. I’m ready to come home.】 I had Mia cremated immediately. The funeral was small. Just our parents. Mom wept, kneeling before the casket, shaking. “Mia, I’m so sorry! I should have insisted you stay away from the Sterlings. They’re billionaires; why would they look at normal people like us… I didn’t protect you…” Dad stood in the corner, chain-smoking, face dark. Suddenly, he slapped himself hard. “I should have known! Why would he pay off our debts? He was buying my daughter’s life!” I watched this grieving middle-aged couple with a blank face. I had no feelings for them. My limited capacity for love had died with Mia. Suddenly, the door was kicked open. “Maya! Is this your idea of an apology?! I send you to learn manners, and you run back here to play dead?!” I quickly stepped into the shadows. Dad saw Julian Sterling and lunged. “You animal! Give me back my daughter!” Julian kicked him away, furious. “Don’t give me that drama. Do you think I’m an idiot?” Dad clutched his stomach, eyes murderous. “My daughter is dead! This is her funeral! You and that woman killed her!” “Wow. Maya is getting bold, hiring actors now? Look at this!” Julian held up his phone. On the screen was a photo of “Mia” (me, earlier), holding a cat, looking peaceful. Behind Julian, a girl peeked out. Lydia Sterling. She feigned innocence. “Mr. Lin, don’t blame Julian. He’s just stressed. Sister Mia has been bullying me since she moved in. Julian only sent her to The Haven to learn etiquette. The Sterling family requires a disciplined wife.” I hid in the corner, teeth grinding. So, these are the two who killed my sister. Neither of them is leaving this world in one piece. My mother, usually weak, rushed forward to slap Lydia but was caught by Julian. He threw her to the ground. Her head hit the wall with a sickening thud. “Tell Maya this is her last chance. Come back to the estate and apologize to Lydia. Otherwise, the wedding is off! If she loves me, she needs to learn to kneel.” 2 Julian and Lydia left, leaving my parents wailing in the funeral home. “Mia, it’s our fault… we were too poor to protect you.” “I’m calling the police!” Dad yelled. I pressed down on Dad’s hand. My expression was grave. “Dad, the police aren’t God. Let me handle this. I’m a professional.” I was kidnapped at one. I never knew family. I grew up in abuse. By five, the village men were touching me. My foster parents took money for it. My name back then was “Jane Doe”—unwanted. When I was eight, during a village festival, I drugged the water supply. While they slept, I burned the village to the ground. I walked out alone and into the foster system. For years, I was a freak. Bloodthirsty, cold, violent. I hid it well. Mia was the only light that ever touched my dark soul. And they tortured her to death. Two days later, wearing Mia’s dress, I knocked on the Sterling mansion’s door. “Hubby, I’m back. I’m here to apologize to Lydia.” Julian’s eyes flashed with surprise. He took my hand, looking at me with those lying,桃花 eyes. “Mia, I truly love you. But Lydia is my only sister. Even if she’s adopted, she’s the princess of this house.” I looked up, smiling. “Hubby, I was wrong. I’ll listen to you. I’ll take care of Lydia just like you do.” Mia and I shared a rare beauty. I hid in the dark; she bloomed in the sun. That’s why Julian chose her. That night, Julian knocked on my door. “Mia, since you’ve learned your lesson, let’s start over.” I stood in the doorway, eyes soft. “Okay.” “AHHH—” A scream from the stairs. Lydia tumbled down, landing in a heap. “Sister! Even if you hate me, you could just say so! Why did you pour oil on the stairs?!” “Lydia!” Julian rushed down, scooping her up. “We need to go to the hospital!” Lydia sobbed into his chest. “Julian, don’t blame her. She just loves you too much. She can’t stand you being nice to anyone else.” Julian turned to me, face grim. “Looks like you didn’t learn enough at The Haven. Pack your bags. You’re going back until you’re fixed!” I teared up. “Hubby, I didn’t do it! She fell!” “Enough! I’m taking you there myself!” Watching them leave, I smiled. Finally. I get to meet the people who broke my sister. Every cell in my body was vibrating. 3 The Maybach wound up the mountain road. Lydia sat shotgun, fake-crying. “Julian, maybe don’t send her back. What if they hurt her?” Julian patted her shoulder. “You’re too kind, Lydia. The Haven is a legitimate institution. Lots of elite families use it. Besides, it’s not her first time.” I sat in the back, watching Lydia’s reflection in the window. She was smirking. Two hours later, Julian dragged me out of the car. “Stay here. I’ll pick you up in a month. That vicious temper of yours needs grinding down.” Bang. The heavy iron gates slammed shut. I turned around. Three large men stood there, grinning. “I like this one. I’ll teach her the rules myself.” “She’s feisty. She needs all of us.” I smiled. “Good. I was hoping you’d say that.” They dragged me to a solitary confinement room. Inside was an electric chair and a stained mattress. The three men entered and locked the door. “Hey beautiful, time for your first lesson. We’ll teach you how to serve your man.” I cracked my neck. “Okay.” I’d been repressing this for years. They lunged. I pulled the heavy wrench strapped to my thigh. Clang. Clang. Clang. I smashed it into their skulls with lightning speed. It wasn’t enough. My hand trembled with excitement. The room filled with the music of their screams. They couldn’t handle me. I possess what doctors call “hysterical strength,” but I just call it being a born predator. Everything they did to Mia, I did to them. First, they wanted to assault her? Fine. I confiscated their tools. One swing of the wrench, and their lineage ended. I strapped one of them to the electric chair. “Who killed Mia? Speak, and I might make it quick.” I got my answers. I knocked them out and headed for Room 888. That was the VIP room where Mia died. I banged on the door. “Who is it?! You’re ruining the mood!” The door opened. Inside, a girl lay on the bed, eyes vacant, body covered in bruises. She was mumbling, “Hubby, I’m sorry, I’ll be good…” 4 “Mind if I join the party?” I smiled and locked the door behind me. The two men inside exchanged fearful looks. “Who are you? Mia is already…” “I am Mia. Come on, play with me! You guys look excited.” I raised the aluminum bat I’d found in the hall and swung for their necks. They fought back, but they were weak, spoiled sadists. I was a monster. Minutes later, they were on the floor, gasping. “Scream! I thought you liked it rough!” I laughed maniacally, shattering their kneecaps. The girl on the bed stirred. I threw her clothes at her. “Can you move? Get dressed. I have work to do.” Her eyes cleared slightly. She looked at me, realizing I wasn’t a victim. I went to the maintenance closet and found a chainsaw. I needed raw materials. The sound of the saw drowned out their pleading. The noise fully woke the girl. She dressed and looked at me with red eyes. “Sister… do you have a phone? My brother will come. He can… clean this up.” I lit a cigarette I stole from one of the men. We waited in the metallic scent of blood. She was a debutante who fell for a bad boy. Her family didn’t know she was here. Her brother arrived while I was finishing my “carving.” “Chloe! I’m sorry I’m late!” I looked up, face splattered with red, holding two perfectly severed femurs. “I avenged your sister too,” I said calmly. “Can you handle the cleanup? I have another stop to make.” The brother, Sebastian, looked at me—at the bones in my hand—with a complex expression. Shock, yes. But also respect. I borrowed his car and drove straight back to the Sterling estate. Mia’s face ID still worked on the gate. I walked into the living room. It sounded… active. “Julian… I’ve loved you for so long,” Lydia’s voice moaned. “I drugged the porridge. Just take me.” “Lydia… I can’t… you’re my sister…” Julian gasped, though his hands were already roaming her body. I cleared my throat. “Wow. Taboo. Spicy. Room for one more?” I gripped the wrench in my pocket.

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I was his longest commitment. The gossip whispered that my methods were masterful, that he was actually going to marry me. “Marriage? Is that even possible?” The lighter in his hand flipped open, the sharp click echoing in the dark. “She and the rest of them—they’re all gold-diggers.” That was the day after I threw myself in front of a car to save his life. I opened the hospital room door. Under his cold, watchful gaze, I climbed onto the railing and dropped twenty-eight stories. It was the end of a life spent enslaved to the system that governed my love-struck brain. 1 Valentine’s Day. On the subway, during the evening rush. The phone screen of the stranger next to me was paused on a financial news report. His name appeared. Rhys Kincaid. Sometimes he felt impossibly distant. Other times, impossibly close. Close enough that I still walked into the grocery store and instinctively picked out only the foods he liked. “Be home in ten.” He didn’t reply. The penthouse residence. The moment the door opened, I smelled a perfume that wasn’t mine. “Don’t you need to leave and be with your girlfriend?” She was already sitting up on the sectional, pulling her dress straight. Her legs were straight and pale. The kind of sharp, young beauty that belonged to a girl barely twenty. “Girlfriend?” He was hidden in the half-shadow of the living room, his tone noncommittal. “Do I have one?” Everyone in our circle knew I’d been with him for ten years. “Oh, you’re bad!” The little dog found me first. It wagged its tail and pushed the door fully open. All eyes turned to me. She ran over and threw her arms around mine. “Gen, you’re home!” Skylar was my younger cousin, currently staying with me while she started college in the city. “Look what Rhys gave me!” She shook the high-end designer bag on her wrist. In all our years, I had never once asked him for a gift. The things he had sent me, I had never touched. I thought that by refusing his money, I could distinguish myself from all the other women in his orbit. Eventually, he stopped sending them. Yet now, he gifted a fortune without a second thought. Of course. To him, what was the difference between ten thousand and a million? Just as, to him, what was the difference between me and the rest of them? “Skylar, go back to your room.” She listened to me. She glanced at Rhys Kincaid first, then slowly shuffled away. “You’re back?” He asked, though he clearly saw me. I walked in and set the bags of groceries on the kitchen island. “The kid was just playing around.” He came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. He still carried her scent. Sickly sweet. A smell entirely unlike mine. I turned my face away from his kiss. He let go. “If I really wanted her, I wouldn’t need to sneak around behind your back.” He only offered an explanation once. If I didn’t take the out, the fault would be mine. I took a deep breath. “I only ask one thing of you. Don’t touch her.” His expression was indifferent. He lifted a hand and brushed the hair from my temple. “Were you having fun with your boss, Marcus?” “Why are you dragging him into this?” “He has you working late every night. Who knows what you’re doing in that office?” I pulled my arm free of his touch. “Rhys Kincaid, be reasonable.” Skylar rushed out of the room. “Gen, please don’t fight with Rhys because of me.” He smirked, leaning against the marble counter. “See? The kid is more sensible than you are.” I pursed my lips, grabbing my purse to leave. He caught the strap and yanked it back. “Enough. Are you really making a scene? Do you think you’re that important?” “Rhys Kincaid, anyone but my cousin. She just graduated high school!” He laughed, his eyes lifting lazily. “You were about her age when you climbed on board.” “And she’s much prettier than you.” “Why is it okay for you, but not for her?” Skylar started to cry. She came over and anxiously took my hand. “Gen.” I didn’t want her to hear any more cruel words. I had promised her mother I would look after her. “Come on. We’re staying somewhere else tonight.” She didn’t move. She hung her head, standing right next to Rhys Kincaid. “Skylar?” “Gen.” She hid behind him. “You go ahead. Rhys will take care of me.” I froze in place. She had only been here for two weeks. She’d barely seen him more than a handful of times. “When your mother used to favor your brother and hit you, who stepped in and took the beating for you?” She avoided my gaze, looking utterly pathetic. “When you didn’t have money for high school, who worked her ass off to pay your tuition?” “You’ve known him for less than a month, and now you want me to leave?” “Skylar, after everything I’ve done for you, do you have any conscience at all?” She frowned slightly. Tears welled up, making her look like a damsel in distress. “I didn’t ask you to be good to me. Don’t use moral blackmail.” “Besides, wasn’t all that money yours anyway, thanks to Rhys?” “His money?” I lifted my chin. “Ask him if I have ever taken a single cent from him.” “No. Because you’re pure.” He mocked me with a laugh. He carelessly picked up the groceries from the island and threw the bag at me. “Then take your damn groceries and go. What are you sticking around for?” I didn’t move. I looked straight into his eyes. “Rhys Kincaid, do you think I can never leave you?” He raised an eyebrow lightly. “Could you?” A jolt of painful, physiological shock went through me. I collapsed onto the floor, trembling. Next to me, his voice was laced with derision. “Starting to act now?” [Host’s clarity value rising, punishment initiated.] The system’s voice echoed in my mind. I tried to get up, shaking, but my strength failed me, and I was overcome with cold. Why did I ever love this man? [He is rich, powerful, and handsome. He is the best choice in the world.] [Given your background, meeting him is winning the lottery.] He treats women like toys. [So what? He loves you.] Dizzily, I looked up. Beneath his prominent brow ridge, his eyes were utterly cold and impassive. He still thought I was faking it. I asked the system how I could complete the task. [There is no ‘complete the task.’] [This is a perfect life.] [He is just mistreating you now. Soon he will realize he loves you.] [You will be the happiest woman alive.] [You shouldn’t be upset.] The next second, my vision went black. Before I passed out, I saw a flicker of panic and concern in his eyes. Ah. That was the moment he was supposed to “realize he loved me.” How ridiculous. After ten years, I had the thought for the first time: I wanted to die. Not for him. But to take the system controlling my body down with me. I was too tired. When I opened my eyes, I was in bed. He was slumped on a sofa nearby, his eyes heavy with exhaustion. The moment I moved, he was alert. “Awake?” “Rhys Kincaid.” I looked at him. The mental pain from the electric shock made the tears stream down my face the moment I spoke. He froze. I rarely showed any weakness. He walked over and pulled me into a hug. “It meant nothing with her.” “She’s not even my type.” His thumb brushed away my tears. “I was just angry.” “Why were you willing to ask your boss for help, but not me?” “Gen Lane, am I really that unreliable to you?” So that was what mattered to him. Skylar’s previous art audition had required an exclusive private lesson with a professor, and my boss, Marcus, had arranged it. I could have easily asked Rhys. It would have been nothing to him. But I didn’t want to. I was desperate to keep this relationship uncomplicated. “I can’t pay you back.” I pulled his hand away. “I can repay Marcus. I can’t repay you.” He countered, “When have I not helped you?” I asked back, “How long can you help me?” How long would he even stay with me? We both knew the truth. The power in this relationship was never mine. He was silent for a long moment. “So this is why you faked fainting?” I couldn’t help but smile. A sense of reckless abandon took hold. “Yes, I was faking it. I want to marry you. Is that too much to ask?” Rhys Kincaid’s eyes were dark and steady. He had clearly already made his final judgment of me. “I’ve given you everything I can.” “Gen, don’t be greedy.” The door was slightly ajar. I knew Skylar was still listening. For the next month, Rhys Kincaid didn’t come near me. Skylar moved out. She claimed she was moving into the dorms for orientation. But I knew Rhys had bought her a condo in a high-rise near campus. On my birthday, he called. “What do you want for your birthday?” I was packing. Clearing out every item that belonged to me from the penthouse. In the end, it was only two suitcases. “I don’t want anything.” My eyes were empty, but my voice was gentle. “Could you stay with me?” Silence on the other end. I heard the sounds of foot traffic. He was on a business trip overseas—the place he’d promised to take me. “Can’t make it back. Be good, I’ll call you when I’m done.” I hung up. I moved out of the apartment. That night, Skylar flew overseas, alone, to find him. He was furious. Angry at her reckless impulsiveness. She was like a willful child. But she told him she missed him too much to wait. He kept her. In his hotel. The next day, he cleared his schedule to take her skiing. She was clumsy but reckless. Rhys taught her a few basics, and she immediately wanted to tackle the advanced slope. The accident happened as expected. He was nearly hit trying to shield her. She instinctively reached out to pull him back. She just nicked her calf. She was taken to the hospital. Sawyer, his friend, told me all of this as I stood in the corridor of the international hospital. “Guess what she said when she woke up?” I didn’t respond. He continued. “She was sobbing hysterically.” “And she told Rhys, ‘How could you? I was so afraid it was you who got hurt!’” The glass reflected the images of Sawyer and me. “That was the first time I ever saw genuine emotion in his eyes.” “What man can resist that? Gen, you can’t play her game.” The hospital room door opened. Sawyer offered a quick greeting and left. It was just Rhys and me. “You promised me,” I said, not looking at him, “that you wouldn’t fall for her.” Rhys spoke softly. “Do you know the difference between you and her?” “She never talks to me like this.” “She just loves me.” “Gen, why can’t you be like her?” He probably expected me to throw a fit, based on my past temperament. But I didn’t. I just smiled. “So, are you breaking up with me?” “How much money do you want?” he asked. I looked up at him. There was not a ripple of emotion in his eyes. He looked like he was simply processing a routine change in personnel. “I want a lot of money.” I gave him the answer he expected. “Give me your entire fortune.” Predictably, he frowned slightly. Finally, an expression. Then, he smiled, his eyes cold. “Do you deserve it?” “She would die for me. Could you?” Before returning to the States, Sawyer threw a party and invited me. It was a private club, the massive floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Central Park. Neon lights intersected beneath the inky blue night. Rhys arrived late. As soon as he did, people stood to greet him. Skylar was right behind him. Her small scratch had healed in three days. The guests’ judging eyes subtly landed on me. But Rhys didn’t spare me a single glance. The sound of mahjong tiles clicked again. Skylar, with her long, dark hair, was trying to play but failing. Rhys chuckled, patiently guiding her moves. As he leaned in, his hand rested on the back of her mahogany chair. Her hair occasionally brushed the back of his hand. “New arm candy?” I was standing on the terrace getting air. I overheard a few women chatting near the window. “After all these years, he was bound to get bored.” “I thought she was clever enough to lock him down. Thought they were going to get married.” “He spoiled her so much back then. Now he’s moved on—it’s always the same, just another toy.” I pulled my jacket tighter and turned. I saw Skylar. She was toying with Rhys Kincaid’s lighter. She smiled, radiating innocence. “Gen, are you jealous that I stole him?” I headed back to the table to grab my purse and leave. Sawyer stopped me. “Don’t go. The fun’s just started.” He said it to me, but his eyes were testing Rhys. Rhys lifted his eyes dismissively, looking at Sawyer’s hand wrapped around my wrist. He smiled loosely. “She doesn’t have a place here.” “Of course she does.” Sawyer stood up and pulled out a seat for me. “Let’s play for high stakes.” His hand was still on my wrist. “If I win, I get Genevieve for the night, how about that?” Rhys’s fingers paused. I looked into his eyes—those famously charming eyes. They were entirely, naturally cynical. He didn’t refuse. I sat down. Rhys didn’t join the game; Skylar sat in his spot. But this time, he didn’t teach her anything. He just watched, silent. The result, of course, was that I won. But Skylar wore the satisfied expression of a victor. Sawyer grabbed his sports car keys and led me away. Before the car crossed the bridge, another luxury sedan cut us off. Rhys Kincaid sat alone in the driver’s seat. His eyes were empty, and he waited with unnatural patience. He was waiting for me to step out of another man’s car. But I didn’t. “In such a hurry?” He got out of his car and tossed my purse at Sawyer. “You forgot her bag.” I watched him calmly. “Thank you. Is there anything else?” His gaze shifted to me. Clearly, there wasn’t. I tried to roll up the window. He slammed his hand on the door, yanked it open, and roughly pulled me out. “Rhys!” A car sped past, drowning out the rest of Sawyer’s protest. Rhys shot him a look, and Sawyer fell silent. “Run off with the next guy before the check even cleared? Is that what I taught you?” The words hadn’t even fully left his mouth. A scream rang out behind us. [Event triggered.] The system voice sounded. I saw the distant figure raising a gun. My body moved without my consent. I shielded Rhys Kincaid. [Congratulations, Host. The Abuse Fiction storyline is complete.] As the bullet tore into my body, I felt nothing.

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I’ve always been a human lucky charm, a walking four-leaf clover. I once bought a soda bottle and won a new car. My company, Apex Solutions, depended on the bid numbers I calculated to secure a 100% win rate, pulling us back from the brink of bankruptcy to become the third-largest firm in the city. The trouble started when a lottery ticket I’d absentmindedly bought on a business trip won three thousand dollars. The new Head of Finance demanded I turn over the entire amount. I explained that I had purchased the ticket with my own money. She flew into a rage. “The employment contract stipulates that all financial gains created by an employee during working hours belong to the company!” “If you won three million dollars on your own time, that’s your business. But winning three dollars during your official business trip? That’s company property!” Too tired to argue, I called my fiancé, Owen Grant, the company CEO. But Owen actually sided with her. “Sasha has a point,” he said, his voice flat. “If the company hadn’t paid for your business trip, you wouldn’t have had the opportunity to win in the first place!” Sasha Bell, the new finance head, looked even more smug. “I’m docking the three thousand dollar prize from your paycheck,” she announced with chilling finality. “And I’m adding a thirty-thousand-dollar fine for attempted embezzlement of company funds! Let this be a lesson to you.” I clenched the ticket in my hand. I didn’t argue again. A week later, Apex Solutions was gearing up for the biggest annual bid—the Dyson Group contract. Every set of eyes in the office landed on me. I offered a small, cool smile. “My apologies,” I said, my voice cutting through the anticipation. “I’ve quit. I am no longer obligated to fill out the bid submission.” 1 “Did you hear what Owen said?” Sasha asked, her arms crossed tight over her chest. “He specifically put me in charge of rooting out corporate corruption. You still think you can pocket company money? Dream on!” I ignored her, turning to leave. But Sasha lunged forward, snatching my handbag off my arm. Jealousy flashed in her eyes. “Where do you think you’re going? There’s no way you can afford a bag this expensive! I bet this was another perk from a ‘win’ on a business trip. Everything gets confiscated!” I fought down the surge of anger. “This bag was a gift,” I stated clearly. “It has nothing to do with any prize money.” Sasha rolled her eyes. “A gift? Or the payout for sleeping with some old man on the road?” She clicked her tongue dismissively. “Tsk, you really put in the effort, didn’t you? I always wondered why you were flying all over the country. Turns out you just had business everywhere—selling yourself for a commission!” A buzz of low chatter erupted among the surrounding colleagues. “No wonder Anya always came back claiming to have ‘won’ something,” one whispered. “Now it makes sense. It wasn’t a prize; it was a payout for services rendered!” Sasha’s eyes narrowed with a cunning glint. “What is it, Anya? Was it a sleeping-with-a-sugar-daddy bonus? Or was it acquired during business hours on a company trip?” Sensing my fury, a colleague stepped in to mediate. “Anya, just admit it was a prize. It’s only a bag. It’s not worth ruining your reputation over.” “Yeah, come on! Just let it be confiscated. Watch yourself next time.” Rage boiled up inside me. I raised my hand and pointed a cold finger at the person who spoke. “Your shoes? Bought during the business trip to Phoenix in December.” I moved my gaze to another. “You bought a whole gaming console on your trip last month.” “And you,” I looked straight at a guy named Ken, who had been the loudest agitator. “You were bragging about it. Your wife got pregnant after visiting you on a trip. Congratulations! She ‘won’ a baby on company time!” “So, according to your logic, shouldn’t all these things be surrendered to the company as well?” The crowd fell silent, their faces flushed. I walked up to Sasha. “If they didn’t have to turn over their purchases, or their good fortune, what right do you have to demand mine?” Sasha, completely losing face, slammed my bag onto the floor. The strap immediately snapped. “Oops, Anya! Why didn’t you catch it?” I was past the point of tolerance. I reached for my phone, ready to call the police. But someone snatched it away and smashed it to the ground. “Enough! How long are you going to keep this up?!” Owen emerged from his office, his face dark, to stop the escalating scene. “Anya, I’m warning you, don’t push it. You’re threatening to call the police on a colleague now?!” “Right now, you will apologize to Sasha Bell!” Sasha, instantly shedding her bravado, put on a weepy face. “Anya, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to break it. I’ll pay for it, I promise.” Owen put a protective arm around Sasha, soothing her with quiet words. When he turned to me, his eyes held only disgust. “It’s just a handbag! Stop making such a huge deal out of nothing!” I took a deep breath, forcing the emotion back down. “It was an anniversary gift from my fiancé.” Owen finally registered the ruined designer bag on the floor and paused, a flicker of surprise in his expression. I managed a tight, bitter smile. “You’re right,” I said. “It’s just a bag. Who cares? Anyway, I’ve decided to break off the engagement.” 2 I picked up the mangled bag, tossed it into the nearest office trash can, and walked away. That evening, Owen called me countless times. I answered once and gave him the short, definitive version: We were over. He begged, he reasoned, all to no avail. Finally, he hung up with a chilling threat, telling me I’d regret this. The next morning, I arrived at my desk right on time. An algorithm-pushed video popped up on my phone. Sasha was giggling into the camera. “Hey, fam! Your corporate newbie here took down a corrupt, slick old-timer today who tried to pocket company funds!” “This jaded old hag thought she could hide three grand in public money just because I’m new in finance. I shut her down hard and gave her a much-needed education.” “Haha, she even tried to call the CEO to complain. Too bad the CEO has my back. She was so mad! He even called me later and praised me for doing the right thing, saying I’m getting a bonus!” The comments section exploded. “Get her, girl! These corporate lifers need to be kept in check! The company is lucky to have you!” “Three grand? If this blogger didn’t expose her, who knows how much she’s stolen before. Instant justice! My chest feels clear and my day is made.” Sasha’s completely twisted version of events garnered widespread cheers. Scrolling down, I saw familiar IDs among the likes—some of the same colleagues who had asked me to ‘bless’ their contracts just yesterday. I looked at the stack of contracts piled on my desk. I swept them aside with a single movement. Perfect. In the past, my colleagues never hesitated to ask me for help. I always said yes. They seemed to have forgotten that this was a favor between colleagues, not an official part of my job description. I smirked internally. They call me a slick old-timer? Fine. I will adhere to the labor contract so strictly that I will not work a single extra minute. The travel expenses? They can fight over those themselves. I composed myself. The minute the clock hit 5:00 PM, I packed up to leave. I hadn’t made it to the door before a chorus of voices called out. “Anya! Did you finish reviewing my contract? Why didn’t you bring it to me?” “Yeah, mine too! I need that right now!” Sasha rushed over, her voice rising to a shout. “All these people are working late, waiting for you to review their documents, and you’re trying to sneak out?!” “If you don’t want to work, just go ahead and resign!” Resigning was out of the question. I was the one who pulled this company back from collapse. The board rewarded me with 5% of the company’s Restricted Stock Units (RSUs), vesting over three years. I needed to last just two more weeks to claim them. There was no way I was quitting. And as long as I followed the rules, they couldn’t fire me without cause. The stock was valued at almost five million dollars. I’d collect that money and then walk. I turned back, pointed to the clock on the wall, and raised an eyebrow. “Sneaking out? No, I’m leaving precisely when my workday ends, just as you so sternly suggested I do.” Sasha’s face turned an ugly shade of green. “You won’t get away with that attitude! I’ll tell Owen!” I had nothing to fear. Everything I did was strictly by the book. “Go right ahead.” 3 I ignored Sasha’s shouting and walked out. The next morning, I arrived at my cubicle. My next-door colleague stared at me as if I were a ghost. “The meeting in Atlanta? The contract signing? Why aren’t you with the team?” I spoke calmly. “Why would I be? It’s not my account.” The colleague offered a weak smile. They’d grown too used to having their free, human lucky charm on speed-dial. It was time for them to try winning a contract based on their own actual merit. A moment later, Sasha slammed a file folder onto my desk. “Anya, are you insane?! Why didn’t you go to Atlanta?” “Do you have any idea how much damage you’ve caused the company?!” Seeing her reaction, I understood. They hadn’t closed the deal on their own. I replied without rushing. “Their flight was at 8 AM. My shift starts at 9 AM. I couldn’t make it.” Sasha gnashed her teeth in fury. “You couldn’t leave early?! That project in Atlanta has been a long-term partnership. You just ruined a high-value client relationship! This is gross dereliction of duty!” I looked at her with feigned surprise. “It wasn’t my working hours. Why would I go?” “I suggest you check the labor contract again. ‘Accompanying colleagues to contract negotiations’ is not listed under my job responsibilities.” “Besides,” I added, leaning in slightly, “closing deals depends on skill. I’m just someone who only manages to collect a few travel perks and win minor prizes. I’d only be in the way.” Sasha’s chest heaved. At that moment, someone rushed in and whispered in her ear. Sasha’s expression became complicated. She glared at me and issued a cold warning. “Reyes Dynamics is here to sign a contract, and they specifically asked for you!” “I’m telling you, this is your only chance to redeem yourself! You better be cooperative!” I nodded. “Relax. Everything will be done according to company policy.” If the company scheduled a task for me during working hours, I was certainly not going to decline. I entered the conference room. Everyone turned toward me, ready for my presentation. I placed the file on the table and spoke without preamble. “Everyone, please go home. The contract we previously negotiated is null and void.”

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Every tabloid in New York knew that Roman Sterling would rather sleep with a random club girl than touch his own wife. The daily question: When will Mrs. Sterling finally give away her precious V-card? Facing the paparazzi’s flashing lights, Roman looked at me with fearless arrogance. “Worst case scenario, we each play our own game. If you don’t like it, you can find someone too.” With that, he shoved his hands in his pockets and casually walked away. That same night, photos of him in bed with his latest fling trended on Twitter. Everyone thought I would spend the night crying alone until dawn. Instead, I contacted a paparazzo and booked a trending spot for myself. Then I tore my lace nightgown, messed up the sheets, and took a “candid” photo of myself in bed. I sent an anonymous text to Roman: [Bro, your wife smells amazing. Let me know when you get divorced.] 1 Watching the trending topic I bought shoot straight to #1, I happily got ready for bed. Within half an hour, heavy, hurried footsteps thundered down the hall. “Chloe! Is this how you get back at me? Who the hell is that guy?!” A photo was slammed into my face. One half was my suggestive bed selfie; the other was a passionate shot of Roman pressing his latest fling, Bella, against a window. This was exactly the headline I had the paparazzo publish. [The Sterlings reach a new agreement: Playing their own games within the marriage, no interference.] I sat on the edge of the bed, casually wrapping my robe tighter. “Isn’t this exactly what you wanted?” “You never should have humiliated me by messing around with my father’s illegitimate daughter!” Roman’s breath hitched. He didn’t respond to my accusation, instead gritting his teeth. “Who is he?” “You don’t need to know. That’s what makes it fair.” I used to swear I would dig three feet into the ground to find out everything about his lovers. I was young then; I couldn’t tolerate a speck of dust in my eye. But later I realized… Before I could even lift a finger, he’d already moved on to a new one. So I stopped asking. It was pathetic. Roman let out a sudden, sinister laugh. “You’ve got some nerve!” His gaze landed on a red mark on my collarbone. He pinned me to the bed. I struggled desperately, screaming. A sharp knife pierced the skin of my collarbone, blood covering the “hickey.” “Are you crazy! Let me go!” Roman pressed down on me, eyes bloodshot, veins popping on his forehead. “First time, and last time!” “I’ll take down the trending topic. Before I lose control, you better go back to normal!” The “normal” he spoke of was me remaining impassive while photos of him in bed with lovers flew everywhere. Me happily accepting the used condoms and stained panties they mailed to me. Roman stared into my eyes darkly for a long time. Seeing my face wet with physiological tears, he finally let go and took some gauze from the drawer. I pushed him away violently. “Don’t touch me!” Roman stood up from the bed, his face completely dark. “You put on this show just to piss me off? What are you pretending for now?” “You’re shameless just to get my attention. What else are you capable of?” The knife in his hand accidentally grazed my arm. Blood soaked the silk sheets. I was sweating from the pain. But my heart hurt a thousand, ten thousand times more. Roman didn’t even blink, his gaze almost heartless. “My mother was right. A woman like you who climbed up from the bottom can never do anything classy!” “Why hire someone to put on a show for me? If you have the guts, really divorce me! Your sister is ten thousand times better than you!” Dropping those words, he stormed out without looking back. A moment later, a divorce agreement signed by him was sent to my phone. Even the asset division was 70-30 in my favor. He firmly believed I couldn’t leave him. But I signed it. Then I called a number to confirm my departure time. Roman, what makes you so sure this man doesn’t exist? 2 After hanging up, the tears pooling in my eyes finally fell. When Roman insisted on marrying me, the whole world opposed it. His parents looked down on my ordinary background. The Chamber of Commerce almost expelled him. But he weathered all the public pressure to give me the wedding of the century. They said I was the happiest woman in New York. Unfortunately, I wasn’t the only one who wanted this god-like man. On our wedding night, he took a call and never came back. I sat with my eyes open until dawn. He came back drunk in the early morning, calmly patting my head. “You know what’s cutest about you? You’re sensible enough not to cause trouble. The Sterling family needs a wife like you.” In that instant, the anger blocking my heart was extinguished by a bucket of cold water. I learned to be good. No fighting, no noise. Just a decoration. But now, he was playing with the person I hated most in this life: Bella. Back then, my dad brought Bella home and forced my mom to accept her as a “daughter.” My mother, proud all her life, held me silently. She gave my father two choices. Either send Bella away, or she would take me and leave the family. My father said nothing, standing on the balcony in the cold wind all night. When he returned to the bedroom, he found my mother had jumped from the window. It rained heavily that night, washing away the blood on my mother’s body. Roman rushed over and held me, letting me punch him over and over, constantly saying, “It’s okay, it’s okay…” But he chose Bella as his new favorite. What dignity did I have left as Mrs. Sterling? Roman didn’t come back that night. The trending topic I arranged was buried deep by him. It couldn’t be found anywhere online. But he openly took Bella to galas, letting her replace me as “Mrs. Sterling.” He high-profile invited everyone in New York to celebrate Bella’s birthday tomorrow. But he knew in his heart that her birthday was also the anniversary of my mother’s death. He just wanted me to face reality: someone like me could never fight him. Roman sent a private doctor to bandage the wound on my collarbone that exposed the bone. “Mr. Sterling still cares about you. He remembered your constitution is unique and wounds don’t heal easily.” I smiled self-deprecatingly and said nothing. The next second, I received an anonymous video. It showed Bella losing control of her emotions: “That night I went to persuade Auntie to accept me as a daughter, but she hit me and said I wasn’t worthy.” “In the dispute, I pushed her down by accident. It was purely self-defense! Dad, Roman, what should I do now…” Bella slapped her own face frantically, claiming she was sorry to me. My ears rang, the world spinning. My father slapped her hard, clutching his heart in anger. “How did I give birth to a daughter like you! That was my wife!” Bella, with a red handprint on her face, looked stubbornly at Roman’s back. “You’ll help me. You have me in your heart, right?” Silence for a century. My heart was in my throat. In the video, Roman’s expression was unreadable, but his voice was firm and calm. “Go hide for a while. I’ll handle the police.” 3 Every word Roman said was clear and piercing. The whole world was hiding the truth about my mother’s death from me, including Roman, whom I trusted unconditionally. That year, I ran to the police station in the rain. Roman got into a car accident chasing me. He crawled out of the car with difficulty, grabbing my ankle with a bloody hand. “Chloe, go back now. Leave this to me.” I naively thought he would get justice for me and my mother because I never believed she would abandon me. But unexpectedly, my father and husband both betrayed me. The next day, I appeared at Bella’s birthday gala, disheveled and unkempt. She was intimately holding Roman’s arm, enthusiastically showing off the heirloom jade ring he gave her. As if she really was Mrs. Sterling. When I entered, everyone’s eyes fell on me—contemptuous, mocking. Only Roman looked relaxed, thinking I was there to beg for reconciliation like before, opening his arms slightly towards me. But he was destined to be disappointed. “Roman Sterling, Bella killed my mother, right? You were an accomplice, right?!” His breath hitched, but the guilt in his eyes vanished instantly. “Today is Bella’s birthday, don’t make a scene!” Even my father rushed up from the audience and slapped me hard. Seeing the warning looks in their eyes, I finally accepted reality. The content of that video was true. At this moment, Bella threw herself over, crying like a pear blossom in rain. “Sister, I know Auntie hated me enough to kill me when she was alive, but Sister, we only have each other now. Please don’t hurt me anymore…” “I won’t pursue you for abusing me. I’ll be obedient.” As she spoke, she inadvertently revealed scars on her arm, looking pitiable. Seeing this, Roman frowned deeply in distress, his eyes full of disappointment looking at me. “Chloe, she’s your sister! How could you be so cruel!” The crowd gasped and whispered. “Chloe’s mother tried to murder Miss Bella and ended up killing herself? Serves her right.” “I didn’t expect Chloe to be so shameless. Playing the victim to fight for favor. Old virgins just love to cause trouble.” “They mother and daughter are used to bullying others. Trash from the gutter can’t change its smell.” … Endless abuse and accusations washed over me. The scene of my mother falling in despair flashed rapidly in my mind. I couldn’t bear it anymore. By the time I reacted, my hands were already around Bella’s neck. “I want you to pay with your life!” She struggled in my grip. The next moment, a huge force pushed me away violently. Roman raised a trembling hand and slapped my face without holding back. “Chloe, what are you trying to do!” “I order you to clarify to everyone right now that you framed Bella and bullied them mother and daughter, otherwise…” His voice suddenly dropped low, gentle but cruel enough. “Otherwise, I’ll level your mother’s cemetery. Isn’t today her death anniversary?” 4 I looked up in shock. Meeting his almost heartless gaze, seeing the threat in his eyes. His brow was still gentle, but it couldn’t overlap with the face of the deeply affectionate man from the past. I stared at him stubbornly, eyes bloodshot. “No!” Unexpectedly, as soon as the words fell, the man took a remote control from his pocket. “There are bombs buried under the cemetery. Chloe, be good. Don’t force me.” He called me by my nickname, but it sounded more like the whisper of a devil. So he was prepared. To protect Bella, he held my lifeline in his hand at all times. That cemetery was the only thought keeping me alive in this world. I couldn’t watch my mother’s soul be scattered. I swallowed the blood in my throat, pushed him away, shuffled over, and knelt in front of Bella. “Bella, my mother and I wronged you.” “I! Am! Sorry!” I looked up at Bella’s triumphant face, then at Roman. “Is this apology enough?” Roman’s chest visibly heaved for a moment, then he cleared his throat. “As long as you know you’re wrong. You can go. Mourn your mother for me.” Dropping this polite remark, he put his arm around Bella’s waist and turned to continue the celebration. Amidst the laughter, guests whispered. “No wonder Mr. Sterling won’t touch her. Her heart is so dirty. No wonder those bed photos of her came out a few days ago.” “She and her mother bullied others. I didn’t expect she stole her sister’s engagement with tricks. She’s the mistress!” “Married for five years and still a virgin. Who would want her? People might think she has a disease.” … I knelt on the ground in a sorry state, listening numbly. I disdained to keep the so-called “forever and ever.” Just as I was about to leave, a piercing ding sounded in my ear. Not far away, Bella waved the remote control at me from an angle no one else could see. Watching the countdown tick closer, the hair on my back stood up! I struggled to get up and stumbled out of the banquet hall. Roman followed my back deeply. Just as he was about to call me, Bella pulled him. “Come toast with me.” The man twitched the corner of his mouth, his attention returning to Bella. At the cemetery. I dug frantically at the gravestone with my hands, fingers bloody and curled. The next moment, a loud bang exploded in my ears. Debris flew, and my mother’s tombstone shattered into pieces. The urn buried deep underground also exploded. Watching the ashes flying in the sky, my heart died completely. Then, a sudden heat wave hit, and my vision plunged into darkness… Roman didn’t stay for Bella’s birthday cake after all. Instead, he brought a bouquet of flowers to the cemetery. But the moment he stepped in, his pupils dilated instantly!

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On the day I was fired, the HR manager blocked my path and pointed at the laptop on my desk. “That’s company property. Leave it.” I laughed in her face and slammed a receipt onto the desk from my drawer. “Read it and weep. $5,000. My name on the bill.” With that, in front of the entire office, I packed it up and walked out. Thirty minutes later, the police showed up at my apartment. The company had reported me for embezzlement. I showed the cops my proof. The way the officer looked at the HR manager was like he was looking at an idiot. By the next morning, the entire tech park knew. My ex-employer, in an attempt to steal a laptop, had crowned themselves “The pettiest company of the year.” 1 After the police left, the office was dead silent. That silence was louder than any scream. It pierced the eardrums. Everyone’s eyes were fixed like spotlights on HR Manager Karen’s face, which shifted from red to green, then finally to a ghostly white. She stood frozen, like a cheap wax figure about to melt. I held my cardboard box—containing three years of my youth and a $5,000 MacBook Pro—and walked step by step through the solidified air. I didn’t look back. I didn’t say goodbye. The last shred of dignity between me and this company had shattered the moment they called the cops. The elevator doors slowly closed, cutting off the complex gazes behind me. In the mirrored wall of the elevator, a woman with black-framed glasses and a blank expression stared back. That was me. Lena Hart. Back in my rental apartment, I threw the box into a corner and didn’t give it another glance. The tension in my body snapped, and a wave of exhaustion drowned me. I collapsed onto the sofa, unwilling to move or think. My phone buzzed in my pocket. A text from my best friend, asking if I was okay. I replied, “Fired. Don’t worry,” and turned on Airplane Mode. I needed silence. I needed to process this absurdity. I was woken up the next day by my phone vibrating against the table. Turning off Airplane Mode, hundreds of messages flooded in. Cautious condolences from former colleagues. Gossip links from friends at other companies. Our company’s name, paired with the headline “Called Cops to Steal Laptop,” had exploded across the tech park’s newsletters and anonymous forums like Blind. The comment sections were a carnival of schadenfreude. “LMAO, CEO Wang’s stinginess finally went viral.” “RIP to the HR manager. Her KPI is definitely in the negatives now. Failed to save the boss money and gifted him a PR disaster instead.” “Don’t feel bad for her. That HR is trash. She’s the grim reaper of layoffs. They call her ‘Killer Karen’.” “Am I the only one curious about the specs of a $5k laptop? That girl is a legend!” I looked at the screen, but I didn’t feel the thrill of revenge I expected. I felt empty, even a little sad. A company reduced to gaining fame this way… how pathetic. And I was the protagonist of this farce. I clicked a link to a Medium article about the tech park. The article was vivid, describing yesterday afternoon’s events in detail. Although my name was hidden, phrases like “Hardcore vs. HR,” “Slapping the Receipt,” and “Police Certified” made me a legend in the park. The light from the phone screen illuminated my expressionless face. I guessed CEO Wang’s office must be lively right now. Sure enough, in the afternoon, a former colleague who was still there secretly messaged me. “Lena, Wang lost it. He smashed a mug in his office.” “Karen got chewed out so bad her eyes are swollen from crying.” “Wang said in the meeting that this incident is too damaging and we absolutely cannot let it go.” I stared at the text and tapped the screen. “What does he want to do?” “I don’t know, but he told Karen to find out who leaked this. He also said he’s going to teach you a ‘lesson’ so this kind of behavior doesn’t spread.” A lesson? Bad behavior? Reading those words, a chill shot from my feet to my skull. They made the mistake. They embarrassed themselves. And in the end, I was the one in the wrong? I didn’t reply. Putting down the phone, I opened LinkedIn and started updating my resume. Life goes on. I needed a job. I sent applications to several companies I’d been eyeing for a while. With my resume and project experience, getting an interview shouldn’t have been hard. However, the whole afternoon passed. Silence. No response. Just the cold “Application Submitted” status. An ominous feeling crept into my heart. That night, I checked a job app and saw that a company I applied to just that morning had changed my status to “Not Suitable.” That was too fast. Abnormally fast. Normally, HR screening takes at least a day or two. It felt like my name had been set as a keyword to be automatically rejected. I turned off my phone. The room was pitch black. The city lights outside cast mottled shadows on the ceiling through the blinds, like an invisible net. CEO Wang’s words, “teach you a lesson,” echoed in my ears. Anger, like a vine growing in the dark, wrapped tightly around my heart. I understood. The real war was just beginning. 2 For the next few days, I lived in a bizarre loop. Apply, rejected. Apply, rejected. Even the headhunters who used to blow up my phone seemed to have evaporated. No updates, no DMs. My carefully polished resume was like trash thrown into the internet void, unable to secure even a single interview. The entire industry seemed to have slammed the door in my face. It felt like drowning in deep water, struggling but unable to reach the surface. Suffocation came from all sides. I knew Wang’s “lesson” had arrived. He was using the network he’d built over decades to weave a massive net, aiming to blacklist me completely. I wasn’t going to accept this. I picked a small startup with a business model I liked and applied again. Surprisingly, I got an interview call the next day. I walked into that office building with the reverence of a pilgrim. The interview went smoothly. From the department head to the partners, everyone showed great interest in my skills and past projects. During the final round, the partner closed my file and looked at me with regret. “Ms. Hart, we really value your abilities.” “But… we might not be able to extend an offer.” My heart sank. “Can you tell me why?” My voice was calm, ripple-free. The partner hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “Regarding your previous employer… during the background check, we heard some unfavorable things.” “They said you have… sticky fingers. Issues with professional ethics. That you were fired for embezzlement of company property.” Boom. Something in my brain snapped. Blood rushed to my head. So that was the crime they pinned on me. How vicious. How precise. For a professional, this was a death sentence. “I suggest,” the partner said, looking at me with sympathy, “you handle these rumors. Otherwise, it will be very difficult for you in this industry.” I stood up and bowed deeply. “Thank you for telling me this.” Walking out of the building, the noon sun stung my eyes. Standing on the busy street, I felt like a wandering ghost. Anger, humiliation, helplessness… emotions churned inside me, threatening to tear me apart. CEO Wang. Karen. You didn’t just want to cut off my retreat. You wanted to destroy me. I took out my phone, knuckles white from gripping it so hard. I called a friend who worked as a headhunter. “Do me a favor. Find out exactly what CEO Wang from InnovateTech is saying about me.” My friend got back to me quickly. It was worse than I imagined. In Wang’s mouth, I was a malicious, petty thief who was caught red-handed and fired. The $5,000 laptop became company property I schemed to steal. The police incident was twisted into me throwing a tantrum and seeking revenge out of shame. He even embellished, claiming I formed cliques and had a terrible attitude at work. “Lena, this guy is a piece of work,” my friend said indignantly. “He’s trying to bury you.” I hung up, chest heaving. Peaceful resolution? Non-existent. When pushed to the edge of a cliff with no way back, I only had two choices: jump, or push them off. I went home and closed the curtains. darkness swallowed the room. I sat in the dark for a long time until my eyes adjusted. Then, I opened that $5,000 MacBook Pro. The desktop wallpaper was a minimalist design I made myself. I opened a heavily encrypted folder. Inside was every trace of my three years at that company. Every overtime record, clocked to the minute. Recordings of every meeting where Wang promised big bonuses or gaslit the staff. Every email asking me to do personal chores outside my job description. Every unpaid expense report. Every detail of withheld bonuses. I am a hoarder of digital receipts. I save everything. I never believe verbal promises. Only black and white. I thought I’d never need these. They were just a security blanket for my anxiety. Now, they were my only weapon. I organized the files, categorizing and naming them one by one. Each file was a puzzle piece. When put together, they would reveal the ugly, greedy, mean face behind Wang’s mask of “We are a family.” By the time I finished, it was dark. I stared at the dense folders on the screen, my eyes cold and determined. Wang, you think you can use your power to define who I am. I will use the evidence you left behind to show the world what you are. You started this war. But I will decide how it ends. 3 These alone weren’t enough. These proofs would only show that Wang was a bad boss, giving me an edge in a labor dispute. But they couldn’t destroy the empire he was so proud of. They couldn’t wash away the mud he threw at me. I needed a sharper sword. One that could pierce his armor and strike his vitals. I thought of someone. Jason. The company’s former tech lead, a straight-shooting engineer. He was fired a month before me. The reason? “Insubordination.” The real reason was laughably absurd. Wang’s wife got a new iPhone and couldn’t transfer her data. Wang naturally ordered Jason to go to his house and help. Jason was in the middle of solving a critical bug and replied, “I’m not your personal butler. This is work hours.” The next day, Karen called Jason into her office, and he was packing his bags by noon. He was one of the few people in the company who dared to stand up to Wang. I knew he wouldn’t be happy about it. I found Jason’s contact and sent a message. “Free? Let’s talk.” Jason replied instantly. “Free. Send address.” We met at a noisy BBQ joint. The sizzling meat and loud chatter provided perfect cover. Jason looked the same—plaid shirt, messy hair, but bright eyes. He walked over with two beers and set them on the table. “Heard about what happened. It’s all over the tech park.” He opened a bottle and handed it to me. “Badass.” I clinked my bottle against his and took a big gulp of cold beer. “Same to you,” I said. Jason smiled, a bit self-deprecatingly. “I was just being reckless. You, you have guts and brains.” “What’s the situation now?” he asked. I told him everything—the rejected applications, the blacklisting. When I finished, Jason slammed his skewer onto the table. “That old bastard! He’s not human!” His anger was real and direct. I knew I found the right person. “I don’t want to let this go,” I said, looking him in the eye. “He wants me dead. I want to show him who falls first.” Jason’s eyes lit up. It was the excitement of finding a worthy ally, the thrill of finally releasing pent-up rage. “Count me in!” he said without hesitation. “I’ve wanted to screw him over for ages!” “What do you need me to do?” “I need a breach point,” I said. “Something that will hurt him to the bone. Labor disputes are just mosquito bites to him.” Jason fell silent. He spun his beer bottle, thinking. The smell of smoke and grilled meat filled the air. After a while, he looked up, voice lowered. “I might… have something.” My heart skipped a beat. “What is it?” “Do you know which company makes the core software we use for our business?” I shook my head. I was in marketing; I didn’t know much about the tech stack. “It’s the flagship product of ‘Starlight Tech.’ An enterprise license costs $130,000 market price.” “Our company,” Jason smirked coldly, “uses a pirated version.” I froze. I knew Wang was cheap with employee benefits and salaries. I never thought he’d be bold enough to pirate the core tools the company relied on to survive. “How do you know?” I asked. “Because I was the one who installed and maintained it,” Jason said sarcastically. “When Wang told me to find a cracked version, I warned him. Commercial use carries high risk. If caught, the fines are astronomical.” “Guess what he said?” “He said, ‘Risk is a cost. We’re a small company, we need to control costs. If nobody talks, who will know?’” “If nobody talks, who will know?” I repeated the phrase, finding it incredibly ironic. “When he fired me, I kept an ace up my sleeve.” Jason leaned in. “I backed up everything on my computer related to the server using the pirated software—backend logs, IP addresses, version info. Everything.” “It’s a complete chain of evidence.” “If we hand this to Starlight Tech’s legal department…” Jason didn’t finish. But I understood. My breathing quickened. This wasn’t a sword. It was a battle axe. An axe capable of splitting the fortress of InnovateTech wide open. “Okay,” my voice trembled with excitement. “We start there.” The two of us clinked beer bottles in the noisy restaurant. The crisp sound of glass was the horn signaling our charge. The Avengers were assembled. 4 Jason and I moved fast and quietly. Like underground operatives, we communicated only via encrypted apps. Jason sent me the evidence backup via encrypted email. It was a massive zip file. Server logs, startup records of the cracked software, internal IPs using it, detailed version info. The evidence was more detailed than I could have imagined. Jason was a tech god. His backups even included timestamps that couldn’t be tampered with, ready for court. Looking at these files, I could picture Wang’s smug face. He thought he saved $130,000. He didn’t know the employee he kicked to the curb had planted a time bomb. My job was to light the fuse. I didn’t go to the police or a government agency. The process was too slow, and it might alert the enemy. I wanted InnovateTech to be judged by its “victim.” I spent a whole day writing an anonymous whistleblower letter in a tone so calm it bordered on cruel. I added no personal emotion. I simply stated objectively and in detail how InnovateTech had been using pirated “Starlight” software for commercial profit on a large scale for years. I attached Jason’s technical evidence chain. Finally, I wrote: “Your intellectual property is being ruthlessly trampled and stolen. The thief is using your hard work to make a fortune. As a loyal user of Starlight software, I cannot tolerate this.” After writing it, I read it through. Every word was ice-cold. Then, using a new, untraceable email address, I sent the letter and attachments to Starlight Tech’s public legal email. To be safe, I burned everything onto a CD and mailed it anonymously to Starlight’s CEO from a remote mailbox. After that, I deleted all records and local files. As if nothing happened. Then, the wait. Every day was torture. I refreshed Starlight’s website and industry news constantly. Jason was even more nervous, messaging me every hour. I told him to be patient. Sharks always come when they smell blood. Two weeks later, on a calm Wednesday afternoon. Jason sent me a photo. It showed several people in black suits standing at InnovateTech’s reception desk. They radiated power. The leader wore a pin on his lapel. The Starlight Tech logo. Jason’s caption: “They’re here.” My heart jumped into my throat. He sent another photo. It was Wang, bowing and scraping with a fake smile, ushering them into the conference room. Jason started a text commentary. “They showed a court order and a lawyer’s letter.” “They’re checking the servers now.” “Wang’s face is green.” “Tech team is being questioned. I bet they can’t delete the logs I left.” “Hahaha, Wang is making calls. He looks like his dad died.” I watched the messages, palms sweating. Nervous, but sickeningly excited. An hour later. Jason sent the final message. “Caught red-handed. The lawyer announced on the spot they’re suing InnovateTech. Damages… $3 million.” Three million dollars. I exhaled a long breath. For a company with tight cash flow like InnovateTech, this was a death blow. Wang, you saved $130,000. Now you pay $3 million. I wonder what your calculating brain thinks of that math. That night, Starlight Tech released an official statement. It was harsh, naming InnovateTech for infringement and vowing to pursue legal responsibility to the end. It caused a huge stir. This spread much further than my laptop incident. This involved an industry giant. Before, InnovateTech was a joke in the park. Now, it was a cautionary tale for the whole industry. I could almost hear the sound of Wang’s carefully maintained “dignity” shattering. Crisp and pleasant. This was just the appetizer. The main course was yet to come.

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After taking over my father’s company, my best friend Maya insisted we act out her favorite CEO romance fantasy. I rented an entire amusement park for the night, ready to set off fireworks just for her. But as the first rocket was about to launch, a woman clutching a child burst from the bushes. Maya screamed, “Holy crap, is that a ghost from a daytime drama? Babe, save me!” The woman grabbed my leg, tears and snot covering her face. “You promised to come back and marry me when you succeeded! Why have you been gone three years? Who is she? Are you abandoning me and our son?” I froze, one hand touching my short, boyish haircut—cut to avoid an arranged marriage. Her desperation grew. “When we were together, you said I was the most beautiful woman alive! Now that our child is born, you pretend not to know me?” Before I could speak, her toddler wiped snot all over my pants. “Daddy, hold me!” Phones rose from the crowd, cameras flashing. The murmurs turned into loud accusations, branding me a deadbeat dad who abandoned his family. I looked desperately at Maya, but she was crying harder than the stranger. “Babe, say something! Who is she? You owe me an explanation tonight!” 1 Maya stood before me, pounding her fists against my chest in a dramatic display of heartbreak. “Say something! Who is this woman? And who is this ugly little kid?” “So this is what you do! You tell me I’m your first, but behind my back, you’ve got a whole collection of mistresses! How could you do this to me? Today is our five-year anniversary!” Maya was so deep in character that the other woman actually believed her. She wiped away a tear and whimpered. “So… you were already with someone when we met. No wonder you disappeared the morning after we slept together.” “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have fallen for you so easily. I’ve ruined our child’s life!” “I don’t want anything now. I know I can’t compete with this lady. Just… please take care of our son. If you could give me two thousand dollars a month for living expenses, I’d be content.” Two thousand dollars?! I nearly choked on a boba pearl. If I hadn’t just inherited the family business, two grand would be more than enough to buy my silence, not the other way around. Realizing this wasn’t part of the game, Maya dropped the act. “Wait, you’ve misunderstood. She’s not—” The woman cut her off frantically. “Enough! What are you trying to say? That your man isn’t that kind of person? Which scumbag has ‘scumbag’ written on his forehead?” “If he hadn’t forced himself on me, I never would have believed this could happen!” “I’m a woman who has thrown away her pride and dignity! I’m not even asking for the justice I deserve. All I want is for him to provide for his child. Is that too much to ask?” Gossip is a powerful force. The moment she said “forced,” the air went still. I deeply regretted not clearing the park of bystanders as the staff had suggested. I gave Maya a look that screamed, This is all your fault. If you wanted an audience for your CEO fantasy, I could have hired actors. Now we’re the main event! Maya looked so guilty she seemed ready to bury her head in the nearest planter. Before I could speak, a guy covered in tattoos stormed up to me. “It’s bad enough you look like a pretty boy, but you don’t even have the balls to act like a man. You’re a disgrace to men everywhere!” “Don’t you feel any shame when you look in the mirror?” I nodded earnestly. “Not really.” He sputtered, half-choked with rage. I’m a woman. The short hair was just a tactic to avoid being married off by my family. Why should I feel ashamed for disgracing manhood? The guy’s face turned beet red. “Fine, fine! You’re shameless, I can’t argue with you! Let’s call the police and let them sort it out!” 2 As he reached for his phone, the woman, Jenny, lunged forward and grabbed his hand. “No! Calling the police will hurt his career! I don’t want to cause him any more trouble.” She turned to me, her voice breaking. “Please, I’m begging you. Just help me with the baby. I wouldn’t have come to you if I wasn’t completely desperate… My last few bosses haven’t paid me in six months. I can’t even afford formula for little Ben!” Tears streamed down her face, and some of the onlookers were visibly moved. A few started to chime in. “Come on, man, be a decent human being. It’s your son. This poor girl has been through enough. She’s not even asking for damages.” “A son just fell into your lap from the sky! If I were you, I’d be so happy I couldn’t sleep for three days! Stop acting so high and mighty. If you can’t afford to raise a kid, you shouldn’t be taking a girl’s clothes off!” Maya, furious, tried to defend me, but everything she said only made us look worse. Soon, the crowd was calling us a pair of sickos—me, the predator, and her, the accomplice who paid off my victims. My temples throbbed with a building rage. Finally, I spoke, my voice tight. “I am not an irresponsible person,” I began. “But I need to make one thing perfectly clear. I have absolutely, completely, never met you before in my life! I sympathize with what you’ve been through, and it’s outrageous, but is it possible you have the wrong person?” Maya immediately jumped in. “Exactly! You must be mistaken! She’s not that kind of person. Besides, it’s impossible for her to get you pregnant!” A bystander shot back, “And how would you know? Are you a worm in his stomach? Or have you two been partners in crime this whole time, so you know exactly which women your boyfriend has slept with?” “Oh, I get it now,” another woman sneered. “You know all about his cheating. You probably help him find his victims! As a woman, how can you be so vile?” Maya was about to lose it and lunge at the woman, but Jenny’s sharp voice stopped her. “Your name is Corbin Jiang! That’s right, isn’t it?” I froze. She actually knew my name. “The night you took me to that hotel, I was drunk, but I saw your ID for a second. I remember your name! For three years, I haven’t forgotten you for a single day! Corbin Jiang, you ruined my life! Why should you get away with it?” Her hysterical cries ignited the crowd’s fury. “I thought it might be a mistake, but she knows his name! What else is there to say?” “Hey, you slept with her. Just admit it! Don’t be such a coward!” “You’re panicking now, but you were all too eager back at the hotel, weren’t you?” I stared hard at her, noticing the way her eyes darted away from mine. “Since you saw my name, you must be very familiar with it. Write it down. In front of everyone.” A sheen of cold sweat appeared on her forehead. “I already said it, why do I have to write it? You’re the one who won’t admit what you did, and now you’re doubting me?” “I never said I doubted you. I just want to confirm it was you that night. It’s just a name; it won’t take long. Unless… you’re hiding something?” I leaned in closer, lowering my voice. “Or maybe you don’t actually know how to spell my name at all. So who did you really sleep with that night? And whose ID did you see?” 3 Jenny’s face flushed with anger. “Of course, I know! I just… I didn’t bring a pen!” “That’s okay,” I said smoothly, pulling a pen from my jacket pocket. “I have one. And I have my ID, too. Don’t worry, I’m not going to run out on my responsibilities.” She sputtered, trapped. Finally, defeated, she took the pen and a napkin and began to write. She wrote slowly, as if each stroke was a monumental effort. When she was done, I took the paper and looked at it. And I laughed. Corbin Jiang. A man’s name. She had no idea I was a woman. My real name was Corinne. Close, but crucially different. I pulled out my ID, covering everything but my name. “Take a good look.” The name was clearly printed: Corinne Jiang. “Miss Jenny,” I said, my voice cold, “if you’re going to hunt someone down, at least do your homework. Rushing in blindly just gets you played.” The crowd started whispering among themselves, now suspecting that Jenny had indeed made a mistake. Seeing the tide turn against her, Jenny burst into tears. “You’re doing this on purpose! You got me drunk and drugged me that night! Of course, I don’t remember everything perfectly! Even if I forgot exactly how to spell your name, I’ll never forget the Porsche you were driving! You used that car to trick me!” Ah. So that was it. She was after the car. As for my name, she must have overheard Maya calling me and latched onto it. I nodded, stepping closer. “Then please, tell me. How, exactly, did I trick you? Since you hate me so much, you must remember that part vividly, right?” Her face went white. “That was the most painful night of my life. Are you really going to make me recount it in public? I’m already at rock bottom. Are you trying to push me over the edge?” As she spoke, she lowered her head and, hidden from the crowd, gave the child in her arms a sharp pinch. The sleeping toddler instantly erupted into shrieks. The crowd’s attention shifted. Forgetting their anger at me, they rushed to help her soothe the crying child. I turned to leave with Maya, but a hand shot out and clamped down on my wrist. The next thing I knew, I was flying backward, landing hard on the pavement. “Your son is still crying, and you’re trying to run? What kind of man are you?” The tattooed guy stood over me, fuming. To Jenny, he said, “Miss, I’ve got him for you. He’s going to acknowledge this kid today, one way or another. If he won’t, I’ll beat him until he does!” Maya burst into tears, trying to rush to my side, but the crowd blocked her. I slowly pushed myself up, my eyes fixed on Jenny. “So, what do you want?” She put on a pained, pitiful expression. “I just… I can’t raise a child alone. I really don’t have the means…” I cut her off with an impatient wave of my hand. “Get to the point. How much?” “I told you, I’m not that kind of person…” I gave a cold laugh and slipped the bank card I’d just taken out back into my wallet. “Fine. If you came here to give me a child, then consider him received. You can go now.” Jenny’s smile froze, her eyes filled with hurt. “How could you think of me like that? That’s not what I meant. I don’t want your money, but I had to borrow from all my relatives to raise him so far, so—” I took a deep breath. “You want me to pay off your debts?” “Would you?” Her innocent, manipulative expression almost made me puke. “You spelled my name wrong. You know nothing about my car besides the brand. What makes you think a few sob stories are enough to make me pay your debts? Do I look like an idiot? Find the man who actually slept with you. If you slander me again, I’ll see you in court.” 4 I rose shakily to my feet, ready to leave. Jenny panicked, trying to soothe her screaming child while yelling at my back, “Fine, go! If you walk away now, you’ll never see your son again! I’ll jump with him right now! We’ll die right in front of you, so we won’t get in the way of you and your new girlfriend!” Before anyone could react, she broke through the crowd, clutching the child, and sprinted away. Two minutes later, the emergency lights at the very top of the roller coaster switched on. She was sitting up there, the child in her arms, her figure swaying precariously against the night sky. “Corbin Jiang,” her voice, amplified by the park’s speakers, echoed around us, “I don’t blame you for not recognizing me, or for forgetting me. I only blame myself for choosing the wrong man. If we meet in the next life, if I had the same kind of family as that lady by your side… would our story have ended differently?” Her tragic monologue struck a chord with every person there. Maya and I were stunned. We never thought a shakedown artist would take it this far. Someone shoved me hard from behind. “What are you waiting for? Go save them!” a bystander roared. “Just agree to whatever she wants! A life is at stake! If she dies, it’s on you!” “I’ve never seen a more shameless man in my life! Your wife and child are about to commit suicide, and you’re just standing there! Will you be this calm when your own parents die? You’ll get what’s coming to you!” I wanted to scream that he wasn’t my son, that I didn’t care if she jumped. But I knew this wasn’t the time. Someone had started a live stream, and the camera was pointed directly at me. For the sake of views, the streamers were embellishing the story. In their narrative, I was a monster who had abandoned his first family and was now driving them to their deaths for my new girlfriend. Hundreds of thousands of viewers flooded the stream, the comments a torrent of curses. “GIRL, DON’T DO IT! HE’S THE ONE WHO SHOULD DIE!” “IF YOU DIE, YOU’RE JUST GIVING THE SCUMBAG AND HIS MISTRESS WHAT THEY WANT!” “WAKE UP! YOUR SON NEEDS YOU!” “THAT BASTARD BETTER GET STRUCK BY LIGHTNING!” The cameras, the insults, the online vitriol—it was a tidal wave threatening to drown me. Left with no choice, I tried to negotiate. But no matter what I said, Jenny wouldn’t budge from her demand: two million dollars. After a thirty-minute standoff, the police arrived. I finally breathed a sigh of relief. “Officer, I want to report her! She’s falsely accusing me of getting her pregnant and trying to extort me for two million dollars! But I’m not even a—” Before I could say the word “man,” Jenny’s broken sobs rained down from above. “Officer, don’t believe him! I have proof! I had a paternity test done!” The police urged her to come down, promising they would help her. But she refused, instead throwing two sheets of paper down from the coaster. I stared at the fluttering papers, a growing sense of dread coiling in my stomach. “Officer,” I said quietly, “can she even hear me from all the way up there? I wasn’t speaking very loudly. How did she know what I said?” A bystander looked ready to hit me. “Officer, are you hearing this? What kind of monster is he? He didn’t believe the poor girl, so of course, she brought evidence! It’s perfectly normal!” I tried to explain, but no one was listening. An officer picked up the report and slowly opened it. The crowd fell silent, their eyes glued to the paper. At that exact moment, a message from an unknown number popped up on my phone. “After today, you’re finished. Corinne Jiang, consider this my first gift to you.” Suddenly, a sickening thud echoed from the distance. Panic erupted. “Someone jumped! Someone jumped! Somebody help!” “That poor girl… her ghost will haunt this bastard forever!” The officer holding the report froze, shoved it into my hands, and sprinted towards the commotion. “The kid is yours,” he’d said before he ran. “You’ll never be able to explain this now.”

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Before the SATs, my mom had one rule: no washing our hair. She firmly believed that shampoo would wash away all the knowledge in our brains. I didn’t buy it, but my twin sister, Lily, obeyed without question. Later, Lily became the laughingstock of the school. They said her hair was dirtier than a pigsty. Crying, she begged me to take her to a salon. As a result, she bombed the SATs. When Mom demanded answers, Lily blamed me: “If my sister hadn’t made me wash my hair, I would have been valedictorian!” In a fit of rage, she pushed me into the river. When I opened my eyes again, I heard my mom’s voice: “For the next 100 days until the SATs, no one is allowed to wash their hair!” Chapter 1 “Washing your hair washes the knowledge right out of your brain.” My mom’s shrill voice jolted me awake. “For the next 100 days until the SATs, neither of you is allowed to wash your hair!” I snapped back to reality, finding myself sitting at the kitchen table. Across from me was my twin sister, Lily, with her usual meek and obedient expression. I had been reborn. “Mom, that’s just a myth. How can you still believe that?” I heard myself blurt out the words. In my last life, I said the exact same thing and got chewed out for it. Mom slammed her chopsticks down and smacked me on the head. “What do you know? The experts say it’s true! “Mrs. Johnson’s son next door didn’t listen, washed his hair, and his score dropped by 100 points!” What Mom didn’t know was that Mrs. Johnson’s son cheated on every test. When it came to the SATs, with no one to copy off of, of course his score tanked. I tried to argue, hoping to change her outdated mindset. But she just unleashed her anger on me. She called me unmotivated, disrespectful. She even blamed me for her divorce and her fear of dating again. Before, I was too stubborn, always trying to reason with her. But with a mom who refused to listen, I needed a new strategy. “Mom, the kids at prep schools wash their hair every day. They say feeling fresh helps them focus.” I raised my voice deliberately. “And their acceptance rates are way higher than ours.” Mom paused. She was a sucker for the “other kids do it better” theory. But soon, she regained her composure, her face stern. “Stop with your nonsense! Lily, you be the judge. Who’s right, me or your sister?” Chapter 2 Lily glanced at me first. Seeing my calm expression, she turned to Mom with a sweet, obedient smile. “Of course I listen to you, Mom.” “See? Lily is the good one.” I didn’t argue further. I finished my soy milk and left for school without another word. Behind me, Mom’s muttering continued: “Always with that long face. What a burden. Unlike Lily, who was born to be a blessing.” Mom always said Lily looked more like her. But we were identical twins. We had the exact same face. Growing up, Mom always favored Lily. When she divorced Dad, she didn’t hesitate to dump me at my grandma’s house. If Dad hadn’t remarried and Grandma hadn’t passed away, forcing my grandparents to take me in because they pitied me… She wouldn’t have even remembered she had another daughter. I used to feel sorry for her, a single mom raising two girls. But my sympathy was met with constant belittling. When I used my allowance to buy her clothes, she called me wasteful. When Lily simply said “Mom, you work so hard” empty-handed, she was so moved she gave her a thousand dollars on the spot. She was a mother, but she wasn’t my mother. At the school gate, Lily caught up, panting. She immediately started lecturing me: “Sister, Mom has it hard. Don’t make her angry!” Her face, feigning innocence. It sent a chill down my spine. In my last life, she begged me to take her to a salon in secret. Afterward, she asked me to keep it a secret. But in the end, she pushed me to my death. The last thing I saw was her hateful expression. As if I were a monster who deserved to die. But I was just trying to help! I turned around and nodded casually. “Yeah, got it.” She wanted to say more. But I had already run through the gates, blending into the crowd of students. We weren’t in the same class anyway. Whatever happened to her from now on was her choice. In this new life, whether they washed their hair or not was none of my business! Chapter 3 That night, I had just stepped out of the shower. I ran right into Mom. She grabbed my ear and yelled: “I told you this morning not to wash your hair! are you deaf?” I pulled away and took a step back. “Even if I wash it every day, I’ll still be in the top ten for the mock exams.” Mom raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. After all, she had never been to a single parent-teacher conference for me. Between Lily and me, she always chose Lily. “Fine! If you don’t make it, don’t expect your grandma to buy you a phone!” When Lily said the new iPhone looked nice, Mom bought her the latest model immediately. I had begged from freshman to senior year, but my requests were ignored. Even when Grandma wanted to reward me, Mom would intervene. I was numb to this double standard. Lily, who had been hiding in her room eavesdropping, rushed in after Mom left. “Why did you bet your grades just to spite Mom?” “You’re smart, but I can’t score that high. If Mom yells at me later, it’s all your fault!” I admired her ability to make everything about herself. I kept working on my English practice test without looking up. “If you’re afraid of getting yelled at, read fewer romance novels and study more.” Her face turned pale with anger, and she stormed out, slamming the door. “Some sister you are!” From the next room came the sound of things being thrown. I acted like nothing happened and dove back into the sea of questions. Lily’s hair, unwashed for a month, started to smell pungent. Although she secretly used dry shampoo, it didn’t solve the root problem. She came home crying, saying classmates mocked her, writing “Toilet” on her desk with chalk. Boys would make gagging noises when she walked by. Even during gym class, she was forced to stand at the very back. Mom called the principal on the spot, accusing the teachers of ignoring bullying. Lily’s homeroom teacher got disciplined because of it. After the incident blew up, the whole school knew. There was a girl in Senior Class 2 who didn’t wash her hair. The mockery expanded from her classmates to the entire student body. She became known as the “Homeless Girl.” Wherever she went, people would snicker knowingly. Someone even started a TikTok account updating the “Homeless Girl’s” daily life. One day after school, she begged me with red eyes: “Sis, take me to get my hair washed.” I kept walking towards the bus stop without turning back. She tugged hard on my backpack strap. Unable to pull away, I frowned. “Ask Mom to take you.” She looked both fearful and disgusted. “You know Mom won’t agree!” I raised my voice. “Then keep being a good girl and listen to her.” In the end, she didn’t wash her hair. She washed her hats every day. She bought wigs to wear and sprayed perfume on her head. But these were just band-aids. They couldn’t hide the smell of grease and rot. Lily begged me three or four more times in private. But I was busy with my studies and refused. I wasn’t going to carry that burden again. Chapter 4 The first mock exam results came out. I was firmly in eighth place. Mom was so happy she bought Lily another new phone. “Lily has been under a lot of stress lately, her grades slipped. She needs to relax.” Lily waved her phone at me, showing off. “My sister is introverted at school, unlike me. I think a flip phone is too much for her.” Mom confiscated my phone that day, saying it was a waste of money if I didn’t use it. I was used to this level of bias. If I wanted something, I could earn it myself. After the second mock exam, Lily’s score dropped another thirty points. She defended herself tearfully: “The test was too hard this time.” Meanwhile, my score went up by 30 points. I was third in the grade, twentieth in the city. The teacher called specifically to congratulate us. Mom brushed it off and kept asking about Lily. The teacher said awkwardly: “I’m not Lily’s teacher. You should ask her homeroom teacher.” Mom’s execution was swift. She texted the teacher immediately. But she found out the teacher had blocked her. Mom cursed: “Irresponsible teachers like that deserve to be punished! She should be fired!” She forgot. She was the one texting the teacher at all hours. Calling at 2 AM because she couldn’t sleep. The teacher couldn’t take the harassment anymore. Mom never reflected on her actions. So Lily, raised by her hand, was exactly the same. Lily didn’t work hard enough and regressed, but she always blamed external factors. Mom even suggested Lily stop showering. “Washing your hair washes away knowledge. Showering might affect it too.” Lily couldn’t win against Mom. She only dared to wipe her body down secretly late at night. One month before the SATs, Lily finally broke down. With greasy, matted hair, she rushed into the bathroom. Mom dragged her out and comforted her patiently: “Lily, just a few more days. Hang in there.” I sat at my desk, listening to English tapes. But the cheap headphones didn’t block out the noise. I couldn’t block out my sister’s hysterical screaming: “I have to wash it! Everyone laughs at me, calling me a homeless kid! My hair is dirtier than a pigsty! Even the teachers dodge me when I say hi!” Mom made another call. Not to the principal this time, but to the Board of Education. She reported severe discrimination and bullying by teachers and students at Lily’s school, demanding punishment. During the critical pre-SAT period, everyone was afraid of a scandal. After an investigation, the instigator turned out to be the whistleblower herself. I heard that when the Board leaders called Mom in for a chat… She smashed a teacup and threw files everywhere. In the end, the police took her away for a “talk.” All the way to the station, she screamed: “My daughter doesn’t smell!”

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On my eighteenth birthday, I wasn’t blowing out candles. I was being arrested for aggravated assault. No matter how hard I tried to prove my innocence, it was useless. The star witness against me was my own brother. “Ava, you have a severe sleepwalking condition. You just didn’t know about it!” “But this time you hurt Chloe. I can’t cover for you anymore!” Just like that, I was thrown into prison with a five-year sentence. Fast forward to one week before my release. I was getting beaten into the concrete floor by the cell block boss again. During the beating, my nose started bleeding uncontrollably, and I passed out. I was rushed to the infirmary. In a haze, I heard the correctional officers talking outside. “Man, that rich kid Ethan is cold-blooded. Framing his own sister just to help his adopted one get ahead.” “Keep it down! Take that to the grave. We don’t know anything.” I opened my eyes, clutching the diagnosis paper for acute leukemia in my hand, and suddenly laughed. I laughed until tears streamed down my face. Ethan, I’m finally doing what you wanted. I’m really going to die. The prison doctor looked at me, terrified as I laughed and cried at the same time. He sighed, trying to comfort me. “Don’t be too pessimistic. If we can find a matching bone marrow donor, the five-year survival rate is still decent.” He walked around to my side, and I felt a sharp sting in my hand. “This IV might burn a little. Just bear with it.” I looked down blankly. Pain? I didn’t feel it. Compared to five years of unanswered prayers and hopeless torment, what was a little needle prick? The doctor asked me again. “Do you have family? You can ask them to come in for testing. Siblings usually have the best…” “No.” I cut him off, my voice flat, though my heart throbbed with a dull ache. “I don’t have family.” I paused, my throat dry and scratchy. “I’m an orphan.” I finally realized it. From the beginning to the end, I had always been like an orphan. No one loved me. The doctor froze. Another heavy sigh. He opened the door, and two guards walked in. They exchanged a look with the doctor, hesitating. They pitied me. But they had no choice. Ethan, the heir to the Pierce family fortune, had given instructions. They had to follow them. “Finish the IV and head back. You have one month left on your sentence.” It was evening when I returned to the cell. The other inmates were already asleep. I dragged my exhausted body inside and accidentally bumped into the boss’s bunk. Screeech. A loud, jarring noise. “You looking to die?! Watch where you’re walking!” She flipped out of bed and kicked me square in the lower back, eyes full of malice. “Five years, Ava. You really have nine lives, don’t you?” Big Red was serving a life sentence. Seeing someone like me, who was about to taste freedom in a month, only made her hate me more. Fists rained down on me like hail. I curled up on the floor, covering my head with my hands, silently taking it. “Hey! Knock it off!” A guard banged his baton on the bars. “Quiet down! Or you’re all going to solitary!” Big Red stopped and spat on me. “Pfft! I got a whole month left to mess you up!” I lay on the cold floor. The chemotherapy drugs made me weak, draining every ounce of strength from my body. I could only curl up like a turtle, using my shell for protection. Pathetic. Absurd. I stumbled back to my bunk and pulled the thin blanket over my head. After a long while, a small sob escaped my lips. The physical pain was nothing compared to the agony in my heart. Thinking about what the guards said, I felt a wave of desolation. The prison sentence, the suffering, the torture. It was all because of one thing Ethan had said: Chloe just got here. Ava, you’re the big sister now. You need to be more understanding. Six years ago, when Ethan first adopted Chloe, an orphan girl, I truly treated her like a sister. But over the next year, I realized my brother had changed. At the dinner table, my favorite dishes disappeared. They were replaced by the seafood feasts Chloe loved. He forgot I was severely allergic to seafood. So allergic that when I was a kid, a single bite of abalone almost killed me. I still remember that day. Ethan was so frantic he wanted to beat himself up. “I’m sorry, Ava. I didn’t know. I’ll remember from now on. I promise.” But after Chloe arrived, all he said was: “If you don’t want to eat, leave the table. Stop being dramatic!” From then on, I sat alone on the edge of the sofa while they cuddled together, a happy family of two. At school, Ethan stopped coming to my parent-teacher conferences. Instead, he canceled important meetings to attend Chloe’s. Gradually, I lost my brother. I lost the brother who once said he would spend his whole life protecting me… Chapter 1 After crying myself into a fitful sleep, I was woken by a guard banging on the bars. He looked at me. “Inmate 1745. Your parole paperwork went through. You’re released today.” I froze. It felt like a joke. Walking out of those iron gates, looking up at a sky that wasn’t cut into squares by bars, felt like stepping into another life. “Ava.” A familiar figure walked toward me. I looked up, my gaze hardening. It was my brother. He walked over, looking as dashing and pristine as ever. Standing next to me, in my ragged state, the contrast was jarring. “You’re out. I came to pick you up.” I stared at him for two seconds. He felt like a stranger. He looked away, guilt flashing in his eyes before he could hide it. I saw it clearly. “Ethan, I don’t have a sleepwalking disorder, right? And I never hurt Chloe.” His face stiffened. I kept going. “Everything was just a way for you to protect Chloe. But I don’t understand. I never hurt her.” “What could possibly make you do something so cruel to me?” He stopped walking, lips pressed into a thin line, afraid to meet my eyes. I forced a smile and continued. “Also, I’m sick.” He took a deep breath and turned around, his eyes full of impatience. “Ava, you just got out and you’re already starting drama?” “First you question the sleepwalking, now you’re sick? What’s next? You’re going to say you were framed and now you’re dying?” I opened my mouth to say yes. But his sharp, disgusted glare shoved the words back down my throat. He suppressed his temper. He led me toward the car. “Wait.” I reached for the front passenger door, but he stopped me. He pursed his lips. “The front seat is Chloe’s spot. You sit in the back.” My throat clicked as I swallowed. I laughed at myself. “So now, in your heart, is Chloe your only sister?” He frowned, correcting me. “It’s Chloe Pierce now. I’ve added her to our family registry. She’s your sister too.” He didn’t deny it… On the way home, I felt a warm liquid rush from my nose. I quickly tilted my head back. But the blood still dripped out. “What’s wrong?” Ethan frowned, watching me in the rearview mirror as he handed back a tissue. I endured the bone-deep ache radiating through my body. “Just stress. It’s nothing.” He nodded and didn’t ask again. Returning to the home I hadn’t seen in five years felt surreal. “Ava!” A girl fluttered toward me like a social butterfly. “You’re finally back! I missed you so much.” I looked at her, and a wave of inferiority washed over me. In five years, I had gone from confident to cowardly, while she showed no trace of the timid girl she used to be. I brushed her hand away. “We aren’t that close. Cut the act.” Chloe froze, looking wronged. Ethan’s face darkened instantly. He stepped forward to scold me. “It seems five years in prison didn’t teach you how to behave. Ava, apologize!” My body went stiff. But I still bowed slightly to her. “I’m sorry, Chloe.” Back inside the villa, I went upstairs to my room. Ethan followed me. “By the way, I forgot to tell you. Your room is Chloe’s now. You’ll stay in the guest room for the time being.” My fingers curled into a fist, slowly tightening. “…Okay.” Dinner was the same nightmare. A seafood feast that could kill me. Later, I sat on the edge of the sofa, out of place as always. When I went back to the guest room, Chloe followed me in. This time, the fake sweetness was gone. Her expression was vicious, hateful. “Looks like you’re hard to kill. I can’t believe you didn’t die in there.” I looked up, realizing everything in an instant. “So Big Red… you arranged that?” Chloe smiled and shook her head. “You’re wrong. It wasn’t me. It was Ethan.” “Ethan knew that without you around, I wouldn’t have to suffer anyone’s cold looks.” “I could finally be the true princess of the Pierce family.” It hit me like a truck. So the five years of prison… It was just because Ethan wanted the world to accept Chloe without question. A scheme to ensure she never felt “less than”… It was insane. I lowered my head and laughed out loud. Chloe frowned at me. “Are you crazy?” Slap! Chloe turned her head, clutching her stinging cheek, eyes wide with shock. “You’re crazy! You dared to hit me!” I stepped forward, grabbing her neck with one hand. “I’m going to die anyway, Chloe. Why don’t you come to hell with me!” “Cough… Cough! Let go of me!” Her face started turning blue, her eyes rolling back. Bang! The door was kicked open. I was kicked away, slamming into the foot of the bed. “Ava!” Ethan looked at the finger marks on Chloe’s neck, grinding his teeth in rage. “Have you lost your mind?!” I lay on the floor, spitting out a mouthful of blood. It soaked into the black carpet, invisible. Ethan wasn’t done. He scolded me coldly. “If you dare hurt Chloe again, I’ll throw you right back in prison!” The door slammed shut. Bang. It felt like a hammer to my heart. I lowered my eyes. My nose was bleeding again. It hurt so much… I bit my hand hard, but a painful whimper still escaped. I dragged my suitcase downstairs. This wasn’t my home. Ethan saw me in the living room with my bag and frowned. “What? You hit someone and now you’re running away?” I didn’t speak. He sneered. “Then get lost! Go far away!” I looked at him, and suddenly my brain spun. My eyes rolled back, and I collapsed to the floor. “Ava!” Chapter 2 When I woke up, I was in the hospital. Ethan stood there with a dark expression. Next to him were a doctor with his head lowered and Chloe, whose eyes were dancing with amusement. Seeing me open my eyes, Ethan stepped forward. He ripped the IV tube out of my hand, scolding me in a low voice. “So your goal was to make me think you have leukemia, right? To make me feel guilty? Or are you trying to push Chloe out of the house step by step?” “Ava Pierce!” He roared, making my scalp tingle. “You are absolutely despicable!” I opened my mouth to explain, to tell him I really was sick. But I was interrupted by the very doctor who had diagnosed me with leukemia in prison. “I’m sorry, Miss Pierce. I’ve already returned the money to your account.” “As a doctor with ethics, I cannot help you lie to your family.” My eyes widened. My ears started ringing. “What did you say?” Realizing something, I instinctively looked at Chloe. The smugness, the schadenfreude, the hate—I saw it all. “It’s you again…” I spoke, my voice hoarse, sounding like I was weeping blood. My eyes were terrifyingly red. Ethan frowned, instantly shielding Chloe behind him, his face dark. “You never learn!” “Didn’t you want to run away from home? I’ll grant your wish. Get out of the Pierce family. Now!” With that, he took Chloe’s hand and stormed out. The woman turned around. She smiled at me and mouthed, “You lose again.” The room fell silent. The doctor looked down. His eyes were full of struggle. “I’m sorry…” “My child needs money to study abroad. Ava, I really am sorry…” I twitched the corner of my mouth. Whatever. Every man for himself. But tears still fell from the corners of my eyes, drop by drop, onto the hospital bed. I was kicked out. I rented a run-down apartment in the slums. That night, just as I took my medicine and was about to sleep, I heard the lock being picked. I sat up instantly, grabbing a bat I kept by the bed. Someone outside was cursing. “Damn, what kind of dump is this little b*tch living in? Can’t even pick the lock!” The moment I heard her voice, I froze. It was her! Big Red from prison… But she was serving a life sentence. How was she out? Before I could process it, the person outside kicked the door open. The impact sent me crashing to the floor. Big Red sneered. She squatted down, snatched the bat from my hand, and tapped it rhythmically against the floorboards. The sound drained the color from my face. I looked at her and suddenly laughed. “It was Chloe, right? Since prison, was it Chloe ordering you to torture me?” She paused, her eyes flickering. “Who’s Chloe? I don’t know her. I just don’t like your face. You got a problem with that?” I stood up shakily. Without money for treatment, my body was screaming in pain again. “In prison, you used the excuse that my sentence was short and you were jealous.” “But I just got out, and you’re out right after me? Do you think I’d believe such a ridiculous lie?” Big Red’s eyes turned dark and sinister. I scoffed. “Seems like Chloe paid you well if you were willing to sit in prison for five years just to hurt me!” Bang! “Shut up, b*tch!” My back slammed into the coffee table. Shattered glass sliced into my flesh. Pain. Excruciating pain! Suddenly, the door was pushed open, and a deep voice demanded, “What are you doing?!” Chapter 3 Ethan walked in with Chloe, his face grim. Big Red caught Chloe’s eye and immediately put on a guilty expression. “We… we weren’t acting. No, wait…” She hurriedly covered her mouth and glanced at me. Ethan closed his eyes. His voice dropped. “Speak!” Big Red trembled in fear. “I’m sorry, Mr. Pierce. It was Miss Ava. She hired me. She told me to beat her up.” “So she could frame the young lady next to you.” Chloe’s eyes widened, looking like she had suffered a massive injustice. “Ava?” “How could you…” I stood up. My back was a bloody mess. My nose started bleeding again. Drip, drip. Blood hit the floorboards. “Chloe, I already left the family. Why won’t you let me go?” Ethan sneered. He protected Chloe behind him while mocking me. “She won’t let you go?” “Ava, you’re still acting!” Ethan shook his head, the disappointment in his eyes stinging my heart. “How did you become like this?” His gaze froze on my bleeding nose, and suddenly his heart gave a strange lurch. He frowned hard. But he quickly shook it off. For some reason, he just got angrier! “You really prepared thoroughly to frame Chloe. Ava, your heart is venomous!” “I can’t believe I even came to check on you. What a waste of my feelings!” He took Chloe and turned to leave. The room went quiet. Big Red suddenly scoffed. “Looks like being a rich missy isn’t that great after all.” She reached out and pinched my face, viciously. “Don’t worry. Your ‘good days’ are just beginning!” I slumped to the floor. My eyes lost focus as I stared at the closed door. My heart felt numb. It didn’t feel that sad anymore. A week later, I fainted again. Perhaps out of guilt, that doctor paid for a round of painkillers out of his own pocket. “If you don’t find a bone marrow donor… you don’t have much time left.” I clenched my fingers. I just nodded silently and left the hospital. In the time that followed, Ethan never came to see me again. Chloe, however, came by often to torture and mock me. I lay sick in bed. Like a fish on a chopping block, I didn’t even have the strength to struggle. I just let them cut. “Ava, don’t blame me.” “You had everything. I had nothing. I had no choice but to take it. Ethan… he can only have one sister.” That night, Ethan unexpectedly called me. “Do you know you were wrong?” I fell silent. I didn’t speak. I asked myself: Was I wrong? Where did I go wrong? “Ethan, the day after tomorrow is my birthday. Will you celebrate with me? Like on my eighteenth birthday?” The line went quiet, save for Ethan’s heavy breathing. “I’m in Iceland with Chloe watching the aurora. I might not make it back. But…” “If you admit your mistake, I’ll bring you a gift.” I looked down. The pain in my body made my hand shake as I held the phone. “Is that so? But Ethan…” I paused, holding back the overwhelming bitterness and grief. “I don’t even know what I did wrong.” Ethan’s voice turned sharp again. “Ava, I really shouldn’t have had any expectations for you.” Beep. Beep. Beep. The call ended abruptly. My hand lost strength, and the phone crashed to the floor. Tears shimmered in the corners of my eyes. They sparkled in the moonlight. The wind blew. It was so, so cold. For the next two days, I didn’t even have the strength to get my medicine. I lay on the bed. Watching the clock tick away, second by second. In the final moment, I finally accepted the fact that my brother wasn’t coming back. I’m so tired. My breathing grew faint. “Ava, happy birthday.” I whispered to myself, breathed my last breath, and closed my eyes forever. The very next second. A loud banging came from the door, followed by Ethan’s muffled voice. “Ava, open the door!” Chapter 4 Ethan banged on the door, a wave of inexplicable irritability rising in his chest. That feeling. It was exactly like when Ava was a child and had that allergic reaction to seafood, her life hanging by a thread. Ethan’s hand froze mid-knock. “Seafood allergy…” He murmured the words, his heart tingling with unease. Right. He remembered that because Chloe liked it, the table had been full of seafood for days. He had completely forgotten about Ava’s allergy. Seeing no movement inside for a long time, he lost his patience. “Still not opening up? I bought you a cake, Ava. My patience is limited!” He pursed his lips, listening intently for any sound inside. But in the silent night, it was dead quiet. Ethan frowned and picked up his phone, tapping on ‘Ava’. One second, two seconds. He pressed his ear to the door, listening for a ringtone. Looking at the unanswered call, he felt annoyed. He thought Ava was throwing a tantrum. “Fine. Won’t open the door? Ava, I literally flew back overnight to celebrate your birthday!” “Suit yourself!” He slammed the cake box down in front of the door and turned to leave. Inside the room, the girl lay quietly in the moonlight. Her body grew colder and stiffer. Her breathing had stopped long ago. Back at the villa, he ripped off his tie and threw it aside, feeling suffocated. He thought of Ava’s words on the phone: But Ethan, I don’t even know what I did wrong. Ethan felt restless. It was true. Sending her to prison was his idea, just a way to stop people from criticizing Chloe’s background. Come to think of it, she hadn’t actually done anything wrong… The more he thought about it, the more gloom settled in his chest, giving him a bad premonition. Just then, Chloe walked downstairs. She sat next to Ethan, a shadow crossing her eyes. “Ethan, what’s wrong?” He pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling exhausted. “I can’t reach Ava. She’s probably sulking. It’s fine.” Chloe’s eyes flickered. He didn’t know what happened to that b*tch Ava, but she knew very well. She was probably cold by now! Heh. Chloe felt a surge of triumph. As long as Ava was dead, she would be the true Pierce heiress from now on! Ethan would belong only to her! Two people sat in the living room, their thoughts miles apart. One anxious, one gloating. For the next two days, Ethan went to knock on Ava’s door during his breaks from work. No matter how hard he knocked, there was no response. He looked down at the moldy cake at the door. He finally realized something was wrong. “Ethan?” “Chloe?” Ethan stopped trying to ram the door, frowning. “What are you doing here?” She opened her mouth. She couldn’t say she came specifically to see Ava’s miserable state. She made something up. “I came to see Ava. I wanted to apologize. I shouldn’t have dragged you to see the aurora on her birthday.” Ethan paused, not contradicting her. Chloe clenched her fists, malice flashing in her eyes. What did he mean by that silence! At this point, Ethan started slamming his shoulder into the door. Crash! The door burst open. A thick, putrid stench hit them in the face. They stumbled back two steps. Chloe covered her nose, her face full of disgust. “Ethan, did something rot in Ava’s house? What is that smell?” Ethan pressed his lips together. He didn’t know. But the anxiety haunting him reached its peak. “Ava?” He walked around but saw no one. Finally, they stopped in front of the bedroom door. The source of the stench! Bang bang bang! Ethan knocked louder and louder, his expression starting to crack. “Ava! Open the door! I’m counting to three. Don’t make me angry!” “Three, two, one!” Silence. In the corner, my spirit floated, watching them, scoffing. Open it? I’m already dead. Ethan closed his eyes, took a step back, and kicked hard. Crash! The door splintered. The overwhelming stench rushed out. “Ugh!” Chloe almost vomited, looking repulsed. But Ethan rushed in regardless. When he saw the person on the bed, already decomposing and crawling with maggots… His legs gave out, and he collapsed to the floor.

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