Category: English

After my fiancé got into a car accident and suffered a brain injury, he blocked and deleted everyone and vanished. He even had someone relay a message to me: “Sorry to hold you up, but I’m off to pursue my true love now.” I was already annoyed because it was raining after a long day of work, but that message pushed me over the edge. My frustration peaked when I found a soaking wet man standing right outside my door. My fiancé looked at me with a bewildered expression. He asked: “Can I stay the night? I have nowhere else to go.” 1 “Aren’t you…?” Going to pursue your true love? I choked on the second half of the sentence, remembering the panic of Ethan’s parents when they found out he was missing. Forget it. His brain is scrambled right now. I should handle him carefully first. I invited Ethan inside. Maybe Ethan himself thought it was ridiculous to be invited in as a stranger so easily. He stood in the entryway, frowning, looking troubled. “Shouldn’t you ask my name? What if I’m a bad guy?” Eager to get back to my work files, I answered him casually: “Fine, what’s your name then?” The man instantly looked on the verge of tears, pitiful and sad. He said: “My name is Ethan Vance. I was hurt in a car accident. Right after I woke up, my parents tried to force me to marry a stranger I didn’t like, so I had no choice but to run away…” As the “stranger he didn’t like,” I felt personally offended. I lost all patience for his story. I just turned around and said: “Oh.” I heard hurried footsteps behind me. Ethan’s long, cool fingers grabbed my wrist. “I’m cold from the rain. Can I stay at your place for a while longer? I can cook, clean…” My head started to ache. My fiancé, even a slightly lobotomized one, was still my fiancé for now. Rather than having him cheat on me somewhere I couldn’t see, I might as well have him do it right under my nose. Once I processed that thought, I nodded decisively: “Fine, you can stay.” I pointed to the empty room: “That’s the guest room. I’m right next door. Let me know if you need anything, but I have to get back to work.” Watching Mia’s retreating back, Ethan felt his heart swell with warmth. He decided that running away had been the most correct decision of his life. The road to true love was wide open. He had successfully moved in with his soulmate. 2 After finishing work, I called Ethan’s parents to let them know he was safe. Afraid of upsetting Ethan further, his parents begged me to look after him for a while. Facing this huge complication, I really wanted to break off the engagement. It was a cold commercial arrangement with no feelings involved—just a business exchange. And with Ethan loudly announcing his pursuit of true love, I felt even more redundant. But my parents convinced me, saying that the accident was a major setback for Ethan, and while I couldn’t offer encouragement, I shouldn’t kick him while he was down. “Fine,” I sighed. I reluctantly accepted the possibility of cohabiting with my fiancé for a while. I rubbed my temples and opened the door. I came face-to-face with Ethan, wrapped only in a towel. His ears turned red, and he stammered: “You… you said I could ask for help if I needed it? I don’t have pajamas.” A bead of water dripped from his hair, slowly tracing the line of his toned abdomen before disappearing under the towel. I felt a little hot and dizzy. I stepped back, forcing myself to look away. I said, with utmost seriousness: “Boys need to have a sense of caution in a stranger’s house. Not everyone is as much of a model citizen as I am—” I turned and pulled out a pair of my dad’s old pajamas from the closet. “—and upright as I am.” Ethan took the pajamas, his gaze lowered. A fleeting look of disappointment crossed his eyes. “You actually have men’s pajamas…” he mumbled softly. Why was he unhappy? Weren’t one pair enough? Luckily, my dad was particular and kept several sets of pajamas here. I pulled out a silk set and a cotton set, handing them all to Ethan. “Are these enough? I even have men’s underwear.” Ethan was so overjoyed he looked stunned. His smile froze on his face, and he even forgot to say thank you. 3 I was woken up by the smell of something delicious the next morning. The aroma wafted through the door crack, and my empty stomach protested loudly. I opened the door. In the kitchen, Ethan was single-handedly flipping food in a pan. He was wearing the pink, lacy apron left by the housekeeper, his upper body bare, the thin straps draped over his broad back. I felt even hungrier. Hearing the noise, Ethan turned around. The morning sunlight framed him in gold, and his smile was radiant. “You’re awake! I made breakfast to thank you for taking me in.” I looked at the time and hesitated. “I have a company meeting. I’m going to be late.” Ethan’s bright smile fell slightly, but he quickly came up with a new idea. “You go get ready. I’ll pack the breakfast in containers. I’ll drive you there, and you can eat on the way.” To ensure I could eat in peace, Ethan drove fast but smoothly. The breakfast was delicious, the sunlight perfect. My heart felt light, and I temporarily forgot all the stress caused by Ethan. My dad called suddenly, and I automatically answered. My phone connected to the car’s Bluetooth. My dad’s voice boomed from the speakers: “Mia, that guy you’re engaged to…” I was quick and hit disconnect first. Ethan was quicker, hitting the brakes suddenly. My carefully balanced crystal mini-dumplings rolled off my lap and onto the floor. “You’re getting married soon?” Ethan restarted the car, his voice urgent. I looked at my tragically deceased breakfast and groaned. “Married what? We’re breaking up soon,” I snapped irritably. “Oh.” My attention was completely fixed on my ruined breakfast. I completely missed the fact that after Ethan suppressed his voice to answer me, his eyes crinkled and his smile couldn’t be hidden. 4 I suspected that Ethan’s talk about pursuing true love was a lie he cooked up to avoid marrying me. He never left the house. He ordered handsome clothes online daily and dressed up flamboyantly inside the house. I had no idea who he was trying to impress. His schedule was tighter than mine: major cleaning on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays; cooking experiments on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays; and Sundays off. My housekeeper nervously messaged me privately. “Mia, the house has been spotless recently, and the fridge is always full of fresh ingredients. Do you still need me?” I laughed, assuring her repeatedly: “Don’t worry, I won’t let you go.” After half a month of this, Ethan finally asked me an important question on his day off. “What kind of guys do girls like?” After spending so much time with Ethan, I thought he was a genuinely good person. I had already started seeing him as a good friend. Seeing him finally get serious about pursuing true love. I offered him serious advice: “They like guys with contrast.” “For example, you look slim now, but you actually have an eight-pack when you take your shirt off.” “Another example, you’re good at cooking and baking, but secretly you’re also a master bartender.” “Or, your hair looks gentle and dark, but if you look closer, you have two ear cuffs—a total trendsetter!” “And another thing…” I was completely lost in the art of contrast. When I snapped out of it, I saw Ethan silently closed the notes app on his phone. He nodded at me, looking very serious: “I’ve written it all down. You like guys like that.” It was time for lunch, and Ethan went off to prepare food. I looked at his retreating back and quietly corrected myself. “Actually, you’re great just the way you are… The person who likes you should like you for you.” 5 Ethan stopped staying home because of my “contrast” advice. Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, he was out training his abs. Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, he was learning mixology. Coincidentally, my company was also busy with business during this time. I rarely got home to eat with him anymore. One evening, after finishing a meeting with a partner company. I realized I’d left an important contract at home. My secretary suggested we grab it so he could pull an all-nighter to revise the clauses. Work was important, so I agreed immediately. Then, I remembered the man living in my house—Ethan. We were going to break the engagement eventually. I didn’t want any outside misunderstandings. I frantically texted him. “Ethan, are you home?” “I’m coming home with someone soon. Could you please hide somewhere?” “Oh, and please put away your stuff in the living room.” “It would be bad if people misunderstood our relationship.” Dozens of messages sank into a void. My heart was pounding as I opened the door with my secretary. Fortunately, no one was in the room, and Ethan’s belongings in the living room had been cleared. I took the secretary to the study to collect the documents. After the secretary left, I finally felt relieved. I knocked on Ethan’s door. “Ethan, are you sleeping?” “Thanks for cleaning up! He’s gone, you can come out now.” A loud CRASH came from inside the room, like something heavy hitting the floor. I nervously pressed my ear against the door, only hearing heavy breathing inside. “Ethan!” My heartbeat and knocking mixed together. The lock clicked softly. The door slowly opened. A strong smell of alcohol hit me. Ethan stood by the door, his eyes red. “I’m fine. I just accidentally spilled some wine.” “Are you really okay?” I was worried. I stepped slightly closer, leaning in to sniff him. “Did you drink?” I tilted my head to look at him. Connecting this to his talk about pursuing love, I became curious. “Relationship trouble? Sad and lonely? Do you want to talk about it?” Ethan looked up, his six-foot frame looking down at me with an intense, invasive gaze. My heart suddenly clenched. I unconsciously took half a step back. But Ethan grabbed my hand tightly. He said: “I learned mixology, but she doesn’t seem to like drinking. I trained my abs, and though she complimented me, she barely looked.” He pulled my hand to his ear while murmuring: “I even got ear cuffs. Mia, did you notice?”

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My lucky streak started the day I found a stray poodle. It wasn’t just landing my company’s biggest contract or the promotion and raise that followed. It was catching the eye of a wealthy matriarch who decided I was the perfect match for her son. She offered me cars, a house, and promised to sign over the entire family fortune to our firstborn. I was ready to refuse, but when she showed me a photo of her son—currently away on business—this certified sucker for a handsome face was sold. The wedding was arranged in a whirlwind, but the groom missed his flight and never made it. His mother, my new mother-in-law, had me walk down the aisle with the poodle in my arms and, right there at the altar, transferred an extra million dollars into my account as a wedding gift. Just like that, I married into high society. A few days later, my roommate pushed me off our apartment building’s rooftop. “We both saw that dog!” she screamed, her face a mask of rage. “Why do you get the fairytale wedding while I get nothing? If you die, I can start over! I can have it all!” When I opened my eyes again, I was standing on that same street corner. This time, I made sure she was the one to adopt the poodle. 1 “Oh, you poor little thing! Are you lost?” My roommate, Stella, a notorious neat freak, scooped up the filthy poodle that was circling our feet. Before I could even process what was happening, she shot me a sharp look. “Phoebe, I’m keeping this dog. Don’t you dare try to take him from me.” I saw the fierce determination in her eyes, a stark contrast to how things had played out the first time. I knew instantly: she was reborn, too. A triumphant smirk played on Stella’s lips. “I feel a real connection to this dog, like he’s a good luck charm. Who knows what he’ll bring me.” She paused, sizing me up. “I know you want him, but you already have two dogs. You can’t possibly handle a third, right?” I glanced at the poodle nestled in her arms and gave a slight shrug. “You’re right, I’m stretched thin as it is. If you want him, he’s all yours.” In my previous life, I only took him in because he followed us all the way home. I felt sorry for the matted, dirty creature, so I gave him a bath and some food. He never left. I had no idea that simple act of kindness would completely derail my life. At my words, Stella’s eyes lit up with an excitement she couldn’t hide. “You promise? No take-backs!” she said, her voice giddy. “Even if he helps me marry… well, whatever happens, you can’t get jealous!” She cut herself off, probably worried she’d say too much and I’d change my mind. After I swore a solemn oath that I wouldn’t regret it, she hugged the dog tightly and practically skipped home. At the same moment, a notification materialized in my mind. [Congratulations. You have been granted one chance to be reborn. The death of the key individual at this critical juncture will allow you to return to this moment and change your fate.] The message was a revelation. Rebirth wasn’t random; it was a power that could be activated. The trigger was the death of the other person who received the opportunity. No wonder Stella had said my death would let her start over. She had been given the same power. But from her reaction just now, it was clear she had no idea that I was reborn, too. The moment I walked through our apartment door, Stella blocked my path. “Phoebe, did you hear a weird noise just now?” she asked, her expression a mix of panic and anxiety. I knew exactly what she was talking about, but I just frowned. “What kind of noise? Is someone breaking in?” “No, it was like… a robot voice. It said something about being reborn… and death.” I rolled my eyes. “You’ve been reading too many fantasy novels, Stella. Rebirth isn’t real. You should stop daydreaming.” She scrutinized my face, searching for any hint of a lie. When she found none, she visibly relaxed. Humming a cheerful tune, she disappeared into her room. I watched her go, a small, cold smile touching my lips. She had no idea that this poodle had another name: the Wicked Fleece. I hoped she was ready to pay the price for taking him in. 2 That night, just as I was about to go to bed, a frantic knocking echoed from my door. “Phoebe, go give this filthy animal a bath! And make sure you scrub him clean!” Stella demanded. For some reason, the thought of touching that poodle filled me with a primal revulsion. “I have a report to finish for work. I don’t have time.” I tried to close the door, but she stuck her hand in the way. “What kind of attitude is that? You’d better watch your tone with me. When I make it big, if you’re lucky, I might hire you as my dog’s nanny!” As if on cue, the poodle trotted out of the bathroom and began humping her bare leg. Stella let out a frustrated shriek and kicked him away. The poodle slammed into the wall with a painful yelp. I winced but hardened my heart. “If you can’t handle it, take him to a groomer. They’re professionals.” I shut the door in her face, her muffled curses following me. In the days that followed, Stella not only started copying my style of dress, but she also began taking the poodle to work with her. At first, our colleagues cooed about how kind-hearted she was. That lasted less than a day. Because Stella didn’t bother with a leash or a crate, the poodle, clearly in heat, started marking its territory everywhere and lunging at people’s legs. “Stella, can you please control your dog? He just soaked my pant leg!” “Ugh, he got into my trash can and now there’s garbage everywhere.” “Damn it, Stella! He just peed on the copies I just made!” Stella ignored their complaints completely. Our manager was already on edge because a major client was due for a site visit. When he saw the chaotic state of the office, he exploded. “Stella! Who gave you permission to bring a pet to work?” he roared. “Do you have any idea how important this client is? Our entire second half depends on this deal! You have ten minutes to get this place cleaned up, or you and that dog can get out!” Stella, however, remained completely unfazed. She wasn’t even scared of the manager who used to terrify her. “I know exactly who’s coming,” she said with a smug little smile. “That’s why I brought him. And just so you know, without me, none of you would be closing this deal today. So, I’d appreciate it if you stopped yelling. Or you might not be a manager for much longer.” A stunned silence fell over the office, followed by snickers of disbelief. “Has she lost her mind? She’s an intern, talking to the manager like that.” “I think she’s genuinely unwell. Earlier she was telling everyone she’s about to marry into a rich family and that we’d better not cross her.” “Seriously? This is the girl who budgets her takeout orders down to the cent? Marry into a rich family? The only ‘old money’ she’s getting is the change she finds in the sofa.” But I knew. Stella wasn’t lying. The important client arriving any minute was the poodle’s owner: Eleanor Vance, the chairwoman of the Vance Corporation. Though furious, the manager was a seasoned veteran of the business world. Stella’s unwavering confidence gave him pause. “You’d better be right about this,” he warned, his voice low. After ordering the cleaning crew to do a rush job, he escorted Eleanor Vance and her entourage into the office. The poodle immediately darted to her feet, nipping at her trouser leg and yapping excitedly. A strange expression crossed Eleanor’s face, and a wave of fear washed over the room. The manager rushed to apologize. “Mrs. Vance, I am so sorry. I’ll handle this immediately. Stella, get over—” Before he could finish, Eleanor bent down and lifted the poodle into her arms. She examined him closely before turning her sharp gaze on Stella. “Is this your dog?” Stella stepped forward, her voice a timid whisper. “I’m so sorry. He’s usually very well-behaved. He’s such a poor, sweet thing. He would have starved if I hadn’t found him. Please, don’t hurt him.” Eleanor’s eyes scanned Stella from head to toe. “Hurt him? My dear, I should be thanking you. This is my lost dog. You are a very kind young woman. Name your reward. Anything you want, it’s yours.” Watching the scene unfold from a new perspective, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Eleanor’s expression wasn’t one of gratitude or admiration. Her words felt less like an offer and more like a hunter laying a trap. Stella, however, could barely contain her excitement. “Really? What a coincidence! I only took him in because I felt sorry for him, I never expected a reward. But… if you really want to thank me, I hope you’ll give our company’s proposal serious consideration. I stayed up for nights writing it myself.” Gasps rippled through the office. 3 Someone started to speak, but the manager silenced them with a single glare. Eleanor seemed surprised for a moment, then nodded. “If you’re in charge of the project, then let’s sign the contract. I trust that a person as kind as you must also be dedicated to her work.” She turned to leave, then paused and looked back. “Stella, is it? Join me for dinner tonight. I’ll have my driver pick you up.” The triumphant joy on Stella’s face was unmistakable. As soon as Eleanor was gone, the manager announced Stella’s promotion from intern to full-time employee. “Phoebe,” he said, turning to me, “give Stella your files. She’ll be taking over the project from here.” “But sir, this project was—” a colleague tried to defend me. The manager’s face darkened, and I quickly stopped her. I handed the thick folder to Stella, and the manager’s expression softened. “See? Phoebe’s a team player. She understands the big picture. When the company succeeds, we all succeed.” After he left, Stella strutted over to my desk like a proud peacock. “I bet you’re regretting it now, aren’t you, Phoebe? But it’s too late. You’re the one who gave him up.” Her voice dripped with malice. “Are you angry? Frustrated? The project you’ve worked on for six months is mine now. This is payback for not helping me last night!” She leaned in closer. “And let me tell you, soon I’ll be Mrs. Julian Vance. And you? You’ll be stuck slaving away in this miserable office for the rest of your life!” She then turned to the rest of the office. “And as for the rest of you corporate drones, you’d better start treating me with some respect. Once I’m a Vance, if I’m in a good mood, I might just throw a big client your way.” With that, she flounced out of the office. My colleagues erupted in a chorus of angry muttering. “She finds a lost dog and suddenly thinks she’s royalty? It was a one-time thing, does she really think this is her ticket to the high life?” “What a horrible person. Stealing Phoebe’s project like that. One stroke of luck and she thinks she’s better than everyone.” “She’s delusional. A rich woman was polite to her for five minutes and now she thinks she’s marrying into the family? Get real.” “Don’t worry, Phoebe. We’ll all be here to watch her come crawling back when reality hits.” I just smiled without saying a word. Because I knew that tonight, Eleanor Vance would indeed ask Stella to be her daughter-in-law. That’s why she was acting so insufferably arrogant. But a marriage born from a lost dog… could it really be that simple? Sure enough, two days later, Stella appeared at the office, dripping in jewels, to hand out wedding invitations. She stopped at my desk, looking down at me with disdain. “Phoebe, I’m sure you’re dying to come to my high-society wedding. After all, some people will never get an opportunity like this in their entire lifetime.” “Stella,” I said calmly, “I hear Mr. Vance is still abroad. You haven’t even met him. Don’t you think getting married so quickly is a bit… rushed? What if—” She cut me off. “Ha! I’ve seen pictures of Julian. He’s handsome and rich. Why wouldn’t I marry him? My mother-in-law said that even though it’s last minute, it will be a proper wedding with all the trimmings. You’re just jealous.” There was no point in arguing. As I reached for the invitation she held out, she let it slip from her fingers. It fluttered to the floor, and she promptly pinned it under her stiletto heel. “You want it? Shine my shoes, and it’s yours.” It wasn’t that I wanted the invitation. But I had too many unanswered questions, and I needed to get inside that hotel. After a few seconds of tense silence, I knelt and wiped her shoe. Stella burst out laughing at the sight of my submission. “That’s more like it!” She gave my shoulder a light kick before putting on her sunglasses and striding away. 4 The day of the wedding arrived. The venue was decorated exactly as I remembered. And, just like last time, the groom missed his flight. The hall was buzzing with gossip. Before Eleanor could say a word, Stella bravely announced that she would complete the ceremony alone. Eleanor, clearly impressed by Stella’s understanding and poise, readily agreed and transferred another million dollars to her account on the spot. With Julian absent, the reception ended with Stella heading to the bridal suite alone, clutching the poodle. The moment she was inside, I pulled out my phone and activated the hidden camera I had planted earlier, slipping into the room when the staff was distracted. On the screen, Stella squealed with delight at the balance in her bank account, rolling around on the large, red matrimonial bed. A moment later, Eleanor entered and told her to drink a glass of milk and get some rest. Soon after, Stella was fast asleep, still in her wedding dress. In my past life, I had also drunk the milk and passed out instantly. When I woke up the next morning, my clothes were strewn on the floor, and my body was covered in strange marks. Now, I was finally going to see what happened after I fell asleep. The next thing that appeared on the screen made my eyes go wide. A ghostly, transparent image of a man shimmered into existence above the bed. I watched in horror as the apparition’s hands roamed over Stella’s body, deftly unfastening her dress. His face was twisted in a lecherous grin, and he muttered obscene things under his breath. “Been a while since I had a taste of a real woman. God, I’ve been dying for this.” His spectral hands caressed her skin. “So soft… your hair smells so good, your skin… I’m going to take real good care of you…” Then, as if remembering something, his expression soured, and he slapped Stella across the face. “You bitch! You dared to kick me, again and again. Let’s see how you like it when I teach you a lesson!” Though he was just an apparition, angry red welts immediately appeared on Stella’s cheek. The voice was familiar, and as I studied the ghost’s features, I realized he looked exactly like the man in the photograph. He looked like Julian. In my past life, when I discovered the marks on my body, I had asked Eleanor about them. She told me her son Julian had come back during the night. They had consummated the marriage, but he’d had urgent business and had to fly out again immediately. I was inexperienced and too embarrassed to question a senior about such intimate matters, so I let it go. I never imagined that the “consummation” she spoke of was with a ghost. The apparition’s movements grew rougher. He ripped the skirt of Stella’s dress, showing no hint of tenderness. But just as he was about to descend upon her, he stopped. His eyes narrowed, his spectral face contorting with rage. “Damn it! You whore!” he snarled. “I thought she was pure… but she reeks. What a waste of my time.” I frowned. He had just been saying how good she smelled. Why the sudden change? Perhaps his enraged shouting was too loud, because Eleanor came back into the room. She saw Stella’s bruised and battered body and rushed to intervene. “Son, what’s wrong?” she cried. “We finally found a suitable woman. Take it easy! If you damage her body, how is she supposed to bear your child?” The ghost of Julian was seething. “Suitable? She’s not worthy! We’ve been tricked! She’s not pure, Mom. She reeks of other men. There’s no way she can carry my child.” This was even more confusing. I didn’t know anything about Stella’s personal life, but what did that have to do with having a child? Their next exchange gave me the answer. Eleanor frowned, sniffing the air. “What are you talking about? I don’t smell anything.” “Mom, would I lie to you? Have you forgotten? The master opened my spiritual senses. I can tell if a woman is a virgin just by her scent. This one covers it up with perfume, but once her clothes are off, the stench is unbearable. God knows how many men she’s been with. Mom, what do we do? We found the wrong one!” Eleanor looked just as bewildered. “How could we be wrong? The master was specific about the time and place where we would find a virgin with a pure yin constitution, perfect for you. He even said she would be kind, soft-hearted, and a lover of animals, and that she would surely take you home.” “Everything matched the time and place where Stella found you. How could it be a mistake?” Hearing this, I clapped a hand over my mouth to stifle a gasp. If what they were saying was true… their original target was me. My rebirth had thrown them off course, and Stella had taken my place. But even if I did have this “pure yin constitution,” why was it so important for me to have Julian’s child? The next words I heard sent a deathly chill down my spine.

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“One week of silence means we’re done.” My boyfriend, Lucas, used that phrase like a weapon for the entire year we dated. Every time we fought, he’d drop that line and ghost me. Until our last fight. He pulled the same stunt—blocked me on everything and walked away without looking back. In that moment, I realized just how garbage this relationship was. I didn’t spam him with friend requests this time. I didn’t chase him, begging for forgiveness. Instead, I quietly changed my college application preferences and avoided every place I knew he’d be. Seven days flew by. His friends started panicking. “Lucas isn’t even mad anymore, he’s just waiting for you to apologize.” “If you keep acting like this, he’s actually going to dump you, and you’ll have nowhere to cry.” I smiled. “Cool. Let’s break up then.” “Just like he wanted.” 1 The sun was blazing, but Lucas’s face was ice cold. Beneath the coldness was a layer of thick impatience. “I’ve told you a million times, Mia and I grew up together.” “She’s like a little sister to me. I just look out for her.” “Can you stop being so jealous over nothing? It’s annoying.” I didn’t speak. I didn’t cry like I used to, frantically defending myself. I just felt tired. Being unhappy over the same thing again and again was exhausting. Seeing my silence, Lucas softened his tone slightly. “Okay, look.” “I know you get jealous easily. I’ll try to keep my distance from her.” The bitterness in my chest finally spilled over. My eyes stung. Maybe there really was nothing between them. Like Lucas said a thousand times: If he liked Mia, why would he be dating me? But then he added, “But you have to promise me something too.” “Because you threw a fit last time, people started calling Mia a homewrecker.” “That kind of label hurts a girl. You know that.” The cicadas were screaming in the trees, but my heart plummeted into a silent abyss. I looked at Lucas. His face was so familiar, yet so strange. “What do you want?” “Find a chance to clarify things for her. Tell everyone it’s not true.” “She was crying about it yesterday, her eyes were so swollen…” “No.” I cut him off. Lucas froze, then visibly bristled. “Say that again.” “I said, no.” I dug my nails into my palms to stop my voice from shaking. “Fine.” Lucas laughed, a sharp, angry sound. He pulled out his phone and blocked me right in front of my face. “Emily.” He looked at me coldly. In the heat of summer, his voice was freezing. “If you have any dignity, don’t come crawling back.” 2 That night, one of his friends sent me a screenshot of Lucas’s Instagram story. Caption: “The neighbor’s kid grew up.” Attached were two photos. One of them at three years old, holding hands and grinning. One of them now. Not holding hands, but looking at each other with that same smile. Mia commented: “Hehe, am I still as cute as back then?” Lucas replied: “Still as greedy for snacks, little piggy.” His friend texted me: “See? Lucas just sees her as a sister.” “He posted this to clarify things so people stop misunderstanding.” I didn’t reply. I just smiled bitterly at my screen. Lucas wasn’t clarifying things for me. He was clarifying for Mia. Proving she wasn’t the “other woman.” While blow-drying my hair after a shower, I remembered all the Polaroids I took with Lucas. I dug the album out from the bottom drawer and packed it up. Tomorrow, I’d find a place to destroy them. Before sleep, my phone buzzed. A message from an unknown number. Just a photo. Two hands, fingers interlaced tightly. I recognized the guy’s hand. It was Lucas’s. The other hand must be Mia’s. Interlocked fingers. Just like their childhood photo. The text read: “Sis, do you really think the new girl can beat the childhood sweetheart?” I stared at it numbly for a few seconds. I didn’t reply. I took a screenshot, saved it, and blocked the number. 3 The next day, I went to a recycling center. I destroyed the photos, the letters, the little gifts Lucas gave me. After that, I logged into the college portal and changed my application preferences. Once everything was done, I checked my messages. My bestie sent me the location for a party. Since graduation, everyone was partying every day. Usually at the same old spots. So, of course, the moment I walked in, I bumped into Lucas’s crew. They saw me and immediately started winking and nudging each other. “Emily! Here for Lucas, right?” “What a coincidence, he just got here. He’s inside.” “Told you guys. She couldn’t even wait a day, let alone a week.” “Lucas is a legend. One sentence and he’s got her on a leash.” “I’m not here for him,” I said, frowning. I’d heard this crap before, but this time, it just made me sick. “Stop pretending, Emily…” I didn’t bother engaging. I turned to leave. They paused, surprised. “Wait, you’re actually leaving?” “She’s just acting tough. Watch, she’ll be begging him to take her back by tomorrow.” I scoffed and looked back at them. “Sure. Keep waiting then.” 4 Lucas glanced at his friends walking in. He looked behind them, expecting someone else. His eyes darkened. He definitely heard Emily’s name just now. But she wasn’t there. Lucas felt a wave of irritation. Emily’s temper had been out of control lately. Making scenes over Mia constantly. Didn’t she get it? He and Mia had known each other since they were in diapers. If he wanted Mia, Emily wouldn’t even be in the picture. His phone buzzed. He unlocked it quickly. A WeChat message. The corners of his lips quirked up. Finally, the friend request. But when he opened it, it was from Mia: “Lucas, can you come get me?” He frowned, annoyed. “It’s close, can’t you walk?” “I hurt my leg.” Mia sent a photo. Her calf was bleeding. It looked bad. But Lucas’s eyes fixed on the bottom right corner of the photo. A flash of a teal skirt. If he remembered correctly, Emily had a skirt exactly like that. He stood up immediately and strode out.

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In the middle of the night, I was scrolling online when I came across a disturbing post. “What should I do if I’ve fallen for my female tenant? I’ve never liked anyone this much before.” At first, I thought it was just some sweet, secret crush story. But the more I read, the weirder it got. The photos he posted looked exactly like the hallway in my building. The description of the tenant matched me perfectly. But I’m not the tenant; I’m the landlord. People in the comments were giving him advice: “Women just play hard to get. Just go for a forceful kiss, and she’ll give in eventually.” “Women love persistence. Plus, you’re handsome, OP. She won’t be able to refuse you. That’s how I got my wife. Once you sleep with her, she’ll listen to everything you say.” The more I read, the creepier it felt. Isn’t this just sexual harassment? Then, my tenant, Lucas, sent me a message. 1 “Hey, are you there? There seems to be something wrong with the plumbing in my apartment. Can you come take a look?” If I hadn’t seen that post, I probably would have gone over. As a long-time landlord, I’m handy with changing lightbulbs, fixing pipes, and unclogging toilets. I always try to help my tenants with whatever I can. But now, I was terrified. Not only was the post creepy, but I had just done a full inspection of my property a few days ago. The water pressure, pipes, and electrical wiring were all fine. How could something break as soon as he moved in? I looked out the window at the dark sky and shivered, even though it was summer. A cold draft seemed to seep under my clothes. I decided to assume the worst. With trembling fingers, I typed a reply. “I’m not home right now, and I don’t really know how to fix pipes. I’ll ask my boyfriend to come over tomorrow and check it out. What time works for you?” The status at the top changed to “typing…” repeatedly. He seemed to be struggling with how to respond. I didn’t wait for his reply and went to wash up. Maybe it was just my imagination, but I felt like eyes were watching me from the shadows. I skipped the shower and dashed into my bedroom, jamming a doorstop under the door before I felt somewhat safe. Picking up my phone, I saw Lucas’s reply. “How about 8 PM? I get off work then.” I let out a sigh of relief. Maybe it was just a coincidence. After all, most apartment building hallways look similar, and there are countless girls with long black hair who are 5’6″. Plus, the poster said he liked his female tenant, which wasn’t me. Most importantly, Lucas looked very ordinary. You wouldn’t notice him in a crowd. He wasn’t the handsome guy in the post’s profile picture. They say “eyes are the window to the soul,” but who knew such a dirty heart could hide beneath a decent exterior? Just then, I saw the poster like a comment suggesting he force himself on the girl, and he replied, “DM me.” This guy was definitely up to no good. Like many others, I saved the post to see what he would do next. But now I had a problem: where was I going to find a boyfriend for tomorrow? I was single. Thinking quickly, I called my close guy friend, Gary. I asked him to come over tomorrow and pretend to be my boyfriend. Better safe than sorry. Pretending to have a boyfriend could avoid a lot of trouble. 2 The next day, as I was leaving my apartment, I ran straight into Lucas. I rented him the unit above mine. The elevator wasn’t broken, so he was intentionally waiting there. When I opened the door, I saw him take a step back, meaning he had been standing right against my door. My heart dropped. Flashes of news stories about women living alone being murdered raced through my mind. I regretted not asking Gary to come earlier. “Miss Shen? I thought you weren’t home?” His words sent a chill down my spine. He thought I wasn’t home, yet he was waiting outside my door. What was he planning? Suppressing my fear, I said coldly, “I got back late last night. What are you doing here? My boyfriend will be here soon. If you’re free, he can come check your pipes now.” Lucas scratched his head, looking sheepish. “My cat ran out. I thought I heard meowing coming from your place. Did it hide in there?” As he spoke, he tried to peer into my apartment, his eyes darting around. “I don’t have a cat. Go look somewhere else.” Ignoring me, he took a step forward and jammed his foot in the door. “Let me just check quickly. I won’t bother you, just let me in.” I instinctively tried to close the door, but I was no match for a grown man’s strength, even a skinny one. “Stop it, or I’m calling the police!” Just then, my savior arrived. “Hey! What do you think you’re doing?” Gary grabbed Lucas with one hand and threw him against the opposite wall. Lucas hit the wall with a thud and slid to the floor, groaning. “Trying to break in? I’m calling the cops!” Gary pulled out his phone, looking ready to dial 911. Ignoring the pain, Lucas scrambled up and started apologizing to Gary. “No, no, don’t! I just wanted to look for my cat. She tried to close the door on my foot, so I pushed back. I wasn’t breaking in, it’s a misunderstanding.” “I’m not the one you should be apologizing to!” Lucas then turned to me, still shaken, and bowed in apology. Calming down, I wanted to verify something. “This is my boyfriend. Didn’t you say your pipes were broken? Let’s go check them out.” Lucas’s expression flickered for a second before he said, “Oh, I managed to fix it myself yesterday. It’s fine now. Sorry for the trouble.” He turned and left quickly, not mentioning the cat again. I couldn’t focus on work all day. My mind kept replaying Lucas trying to force his way in. If Gary hadn’t shown up, I couldn’t imagine what would have happened. Sitting on my sofa, Gary handed me a glass of warm water. “Are you okay?” “I’m fine. How did you get here so early?” Gary stuffed a bun into his mouth. “Your message last night freaked me out. I came straight here from the airport this morning. Good thing I did. “How long is his lease? Break it. Having someone like that around is a ticking time bomb.” So I texted Lucas, telling him I wasn’t going to rent to him anymore. He didn’t reply for a long time. But then I saw an update on that creepy post. “My female tenant has a boyfriend. He’s dark and muscular, but I think I still have a chance. Girls these days like pale, thin guys like me.” “Today, I went to look for my lost cat at her door. She talked to me and was giving me the eye, but her boyfriend saw and punched me.” “Now she says she doesn’t want to rent to me anymore. Her boyfriend must have put her up to it. Can anyone tell me what to do?” Now I was certain the poster was Lucas. Even if it was a coincidence before, this couldn’t be. The profile picture was definitely stolen. Some commenters were starting to see the truth. “Being a homewrecker is despicable.” “Even if you’re handsome, breaking up a couple is wrong.” But some still believed that good looks justified anything. “She was giving him the eye too. It’s not one-sided.” “OMG, he’s handsome and loves cats? I’m in love.” “If there’s mutual attraction, I love a forbidden romance.” “Keep pursuing her! Maybe she’ll dump her boyfriend for you. Tenant to landlady, what a upgrade.” I forwarded the post to Gary. “‘Dark and muscular’? I call this a sun-kissed tan. I worked hard for this! What does he know? Who would like a twig like him that gets thrown across the hall? My lean muscle is what’s in style!” Gary swiped left to check the poster’s profile. “Huh? Wait a sec. This photo.” 3 “What about the photo?” Gary started gloating, pointing at the profile picture. “This guy is the son of my company’s CEO. He’s usually super arrogant. What do you think he’d do if he found out Lucas stole his photo and is posting this garbage online? “Or if the CEO found out someone was ruining his son’s reputation?” Gary chuckled and forwarded the post directly to his CEO. “Big news! The CEO’s son wants to be a homewrecker!” He waited exactly two minutes and fifty seconds before deleting the message. I asked if he was worried about getting in trouble. He shook his head. “The CEO isn’t that petty. He might even thank me for the heads-up before his son does something worse.” I silently prayed for Lucas. Sorry, not sorry. Lucas was still replying to comments. “Thanks for the support, everyone. I won’t give up! I’ll chase my female tenant even if I have to be the other man!” Hilarious. He’s the tenant, yet he pretends to be the landlord. How insecure is he about his status? He clapped back at comments calling him a homewrecker. “You don’t know shit. This is pursuing true love!” “I know you’re just jealous because you don’t have love and are miserable. I’m handsome and have multiple properties. Stay mad.” “I’m not blind. I know she was giving me the eye. When she came to view the apartment, she wore a short skirt. If that’s not seduction, what is?” Oh my god. Wearing a short skirt is seduction? Then every girl on the street is seducing him. It’s summer! If I don’t wear a skirt, should I wear snow pants? The more I read, the more disgusted I felt. How can a man be so ordinary yet so confidently delusional and deceitful? That familiar commenter, “Wild Soul,” was back with advice. “Don’t doubt yourself. Women wear short skirts to seduce men. I couldn’t control myself because my wife wore a short skirt. She cried and made a fuss afterwards, but eventually she married me. Went from a village girl to a city wife, living the good life. You’re too gentle. Just take what you want when her boyfriend isn’t around. She won’t say no.” This is literally inciting rape. Do they think the internet is a lawless place? I saved screenshots as evidence and consulted a lawyer, but he said without a concrete act, it’s hard to file a case. I was furious but helpless. Women face so much danger and malice in this world. Wearing a skirt is seen as an invitation, and walking on the street can get you “picked up.” It’s terrifying. Wild Soul’s comment got a lot of hate, but he didn’t care. He just blocked anyone who criticized him. I checked his profile. He was a piece of work. He posted about how trafficking women wasn’t bad because it provided labor for rural development. He claimed women weren’t having kids because they were too educated, and that women reading too much was bad for national unity. He even advocated for shortening compulsory education to increase birth rates. Total psycho. That night, Gary slept in my guest room. He skipped work, afraid something might happen to me. My mom told me to move out immediately. Losing money was better than losing my life. Talk about bad luck. A landlord forced to move by a tenant. While I was packing, Gary shouted from the window. “Our CEO’s son is going upstairs with a baseball bat and five huge guys! His face looks red, maybe his dad slapped him. Now he’s taking it out on Lucas.” Gary and I hid in the stairwell and watched the young man kick Lucas’s door. “Open up!” When Lucas didn’t answer, the guy had someone pick the lock. “You’re the one impersonating me online and ruining my reputation? You ugly freak!” 4 The young man and his crew stormed into Lucas’s apartment. They ignored Lucas’s threats about trespassing. Like he knows anything about the law. Reading his posts, I was convinced he was legally illiterate. I wanted to get closer to hear, but Gary pulled me back. “Come on, don’t listen. We might get beaten up too.” “Are they that violent?” “Why do you think I said he’s arrogant? His family cleans up his messes. Lucas is screwed, but he deserves it.” Gary hummed a tune as we went back inside. An hour later, Lucas’s account posted an apology, admitting to stealing photos and making everything up for clout. This post didn’t get as much traction as the previous ones. “Stole photos? And lied about being the landlord? The whole ‘giving the eye’ thing was probably his delusion too. What a loser.” “He definitely got caught. He must be hideous to steal photos like that.” “So who’s the guy in the photos? He’s totally my type.” Someone found the CEO’s son’s account. Lucas had cropped him out of group photos. He thought no one would notice, or at most he’d just have to delete them. But he messed with the wrong person and got a visit. Serves him right! I saw the young man and his five goons leave the complex. Lucas messaged me, saying he wanted to break the lease. Probably afraid the CEO’s son would come back. “Sorry, my job changed, so I have to break the lease.” Seeing his message, a huge weight lifted off my chest. I agreed immediately. Before leaving, he asked for his deposit back, claiming he was broke. I pretended to be hesitant but agreed to avoid further entanglement. When he left, he was on crutches with a bandaged head. He tried to give me a bag of oranges. Ignoring my refusal, he reached through the door and dropped them in the entryway. “Thank you so much. I fell out of bed recently and broke my leg. I’m short on cash, so thanks for returning the deposit.” Fell out of what bed to break a leg? But I didn’t ask. I just murmured a polite response and hurried him along. He seemed to miss the coldness in my tone. “Thanks for taking care of me. I haven’t met a girl as nice as you in a long time. If only you were my girlfriend.” My internal alarm bells rang again. I flashed back to him trying to force his way into my apartment. Gary yanked the door open, glaring at Lucas. “Are you leaving or not?! Trying to steal my girlfriend? Who do you think you are?” He acted like he was going to hit him. Lucas stumbled back on his crutches. “No, no, I was just joking. Wishing you happiness and a baby soon. My ride is here, bye.” Just when I thought it was over, Lucas posted again. “She definitely likes me. I broke the lease, said I had no money, and she returned the deposit without a word. She really likes me. I saw tears in her eyes when I left. She must be reluctant to see me go. But she’s shy and won’t admit her feelings.” Shameless! Most commenters were shocked too. “I’m a landlord too. Returning the deposit quickly just means she wants you gone ASAP.” “Are you sure those tears weren’t from fear?” “Photo thief. You don’t even dare use your own pic. You must be ugly.” “Get lost! Seeing your posts is bad luck!” Lucas replied to the last comment. “You don’t understand. She loves me. I’ll take care of her forever. We’ll have lots of kids. I’ll have my mom propose to her family, and then I’ll prove you all wrong.”

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“Two hundred times.” I was staring at Jacob’s Venmo statement. It took a full five minutes of scrolling to reach the bottom of the transaction history. Every payment was sent to the same recipient: “Babe.” “You sent her ninety-five thousand dollars,” I said, finally looking up. “You give me five hundred a month.” Jacob froze on the couch. “I…” “Don’t,” I cut him off, setting down the phone. “I’ve already printed the bank records.” The color drained from his face. I stood up and walked over to him. “I want a divorce.” 1. For three years, I thought I’d married the right man. Jacob didn’t smoke or drink, had a stable job, and was always so considerate. When our son was born in our second year of marriage, he was the one getting up in the middle of the night for diaper changes, the one who could always soothe him back to sleep. My mom always said a man like that was one in a million. I thought so, too. Until last night. Jacob had forgotten his phone at home. He was at a late meeting at the office, and I was home with our son. After I put the baby to sleep, I was scrolling on my own phone when I noticed his lighting up on the coffee table, buzzing over and over. I picked it up, thinking it might be something urgent from work. The notification on the screen read: Babe sent you $1,000. I froze. Babe? The phone was unlocked. I tapped open his Venmo. The transaction list was endless. A river of digital cash flowing from him to her. I scrolled for five solid minutes and still hadn’t hit the beginning. The recipient: “Babe.” Two hundred transactions. The earliest was dated December 15, 2023, for five hundred dollars. The most recent was yesterday. A thousand. My hand was shaking as I opened the calculator app. I added them up, one by one. The final tally: $95,000. Ninety-five. Thousand. Dollars. I sank back onto the couch, my mind a complete blank. He’d given someone he called “Babe” ninety-five thousand dollars. When we got married, I was the one who put down the $75,000 for the down payment on our house. My salary is $6,000 a month. For three years, I’d given him $500 every month for “household expenses,” while the rest of my paycheck went to the mortgage, our son’s formula and diapers, and helping out my own parents. The mortgage was $2,800 a month. I paid it. Our son’s needs cost another $1,500 a month. I paid for it. Had I ever asked him for money? Not once. He was always saying how busy he was, how many projects he had at work. And I’d always say, “It’s fine, you focus on your career. I’ve got things covered at home.” Now I knew just how busy he’d been. Busy sending money to “Babe.” Two hundred times. I set his phone down and walked to the balcony. Rain lashed against the glass, a frantic, drumming sound. I remembered last winter. My dad was in the hospital, and I had begged Jacob, literally on my knees, to lend me ten thousand dollars. “The company’s finances are really tight right now,” he’d said, his face a mask of regret. “I just can’t pull it out.” I ended up borrowing five thousand from my best friend, Sarah, and maxing out a credit card for the other five. Finances were tight. But in that very same month, he sent “Babe” twelve thousand dollars. A laugh escaped my lips, bitter and sharp. It turned into a sob, and tears started streaming down my face. No. I wiped them away fiercely. What was there to cry about? I marched back into the living room, grabbed his phone, and started taking screenshots. Every transfer. Every amount. Every date. Two hundred screenshots. Then I opened his WhatsApp. Pinned to the very top of his chats was a conversation with: Babe. I opened it. The latest message was from 11 PM last night. Babe: Hey honey, I bought that purse we saw today. Thank you so much!~ Jacob: If you like it, that’s all that matters. I’ll come see you tomorrow. Babe: Can’t wait! See you then, love you! I scrolled up. Over five hundred messages. Morning, my love. I’m craving sushi tonight. I found the perfect condo, 1,200 square feet. The down payment is $120,000. You promised you’d marry me. My finger froze on the screen. Marry her. He told her he was going to marry her. I kept scrolling until I found a photo. A picture of the two of them. Jacob had his arm wrapped around a young woman, who was beaming at the camera. They were on a beach, the sunset painting the sky behind them in strokes of orange and purple. The date on the photo was from July. That month, I was three months postpartum, still recovering at home. He told me he was going on a company retreat to Miami. It wasn’t a company retreat. I took a deep breath and continued taking screenshots. Every message, every picture. I saved them all. By the time I was done, it was two in the morning. Jacob still wasn’t home. I sent him a text: Are you coming home tonight? He replied instantly: Meeting ran super late. Just gonna crash at the office. I stared at the message and smiled. The office. I had a feeling I knew exactly where his “office” was. I opened his credit card statements. It was linked to a card I paid off for him. Thirty-eight charges from a hotel. The same one every time: the downtown Hilton. The same room number: 1806. Each charge was for $250. Thirty-eight times. That was ninety-five hundred dollars. I jotted down the address and placed the phone back on the coffee table, exactly where I’d found it. A cry came from the bedroom. Our son was awake. I went in and lifted him from his crib, patting his back gently. “It’s okay, sweetie. Mommy’s here.” I looked down at my two-year-old boy, with his father’s eyes. I once believed he would grow up in a happy, complete home. It seemed I was wrong. Jacob came home just as dawn was breaking. He pushed the door open and stopped short when he saw me on the couch. “Why are you still up?” I looked at him and smiled. “Waiting for you.” “Waiting for me for what?” he asked, kicking off his shoes and walking toward me. “Nothing, really. I just felt like we should talk.” He sat down next to me, reaching an arm out to pull me close. I shifted away. His hand hung in the air for an awkward moment before he dropped it. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing,” I said, standing up. “You must be tired. You should get some sleep.” He gave me a strange look before heading to the bedroom. I remained on the couch. My phone screen glowed in the dim light. I scrolled through my contacts and found Sarah’s number. “Sarah? Can you do me a huge favor?” Her voice was thick with sleep. “Laura? What time is it? What’s going on?” “I need a lawyer.” “A lawyer?” Sarah was suddenly wide awake. “What happened?” “Jacob is cheating on me,” I said, my voice as calm as if I were commenting on the weather. “What?!” she shrieked. “What did you just say?” “He’s been cheating for two years. Ninety-five thousand dollars. Two hundred Venmo transfers.” There was a stunned silence on the other end. Then, Sarah’s voice came back, firm and resolute. “Stay right there. I’m coming over.” I hung up and looked out the window. The sun was rising. The rain had stopped. And my counterattack, I thought, was about to begin. 2. Sarah arrived with breakfast. Coffee, bagels, and the lox spread I loved. “Eat something first,” she said, sitting beside me. “Then tell me everything.” I recounted the events of the previous night. The Venmo history, the WhatsApp messages, the hotel bills. By the time I finished, Sarah’s face was a thundercloud. “That absolute bastard!” she slammed her hand on the table. “He needs to walk away from this with nothing but the clothes on his back!” “He will,” I said, sipping my coffee. “But I need more evidence.” “What’s your plan?” “I’m going to hire a lawyer, get all the facts straight, and then I’m filing for divorce.” Sarah nodded, her expression grim. “I have a friend from college, a real shark who specializes in divorce cases. She’s brilliant. I’ll call her right now.” She pulled out her phone. “Ms. Carter, it’s Sarah… I have a friend who needs your help…” Ten minutes later, Sarah gave me an address. “Two o’clock this afternoon. Ms. Carter will see you at her firm.” I nodded and stood up. “I’ll go get ready.” “Want me to come with you?” “No, you’ve got work,” I said with a small smile. “I can handle this.” Sarah looked at me, then pulled me into a fierce hug. “Laura, you be strong.” I patted her back. “I am.” Jacob woke up late in the morning. He walked into the living room and saw me organizing a stack of papers. “What are you doing?” “Just sorting some things,” I said without looking up. “Oh.” He went to the kitchen for a glass of water. “I have to head into the office today. Might be another late night.” “Okay.” He paused in the doorway, studying me. “You seem… off today.” I finally met his gaze and smiled. “Do I? Probably just didn’t sleep well.” “Right.” He finished his water and set the glass down. “Well, I’m heading out.” “Wait,” I called out. He turned. “Yeah?” “Don’t forget your phone,” I said, pointing to the coffee table. “You left it here last night.” He walked over, picked it up, and glanced at the screen, a visible wave of relief washing over him. “Thanks.” I watched him walk out the door, a cold smile on my face. Thanks for what? Thanks for me not looking? Or thanks for me not saying anything? At two o’clock sharp, I was at the law firm. Ms. Carter was a woman in her late thirties, sharp, professional, and refreshingly direct. “Sarah filled me in on the basics,” she said, handing me a cup of tea. “Let’s see the evidence.” I handed her a flash drive containing all the screenshots from the night before. Ms. Carter plugged it into her laptop and meticulously reviewed each file. When she finished, she looked up. “This is a very strong start, but I recommend we get more.” “Like what?” “Hotel surveillance footage, official check-in records, and the identity of this other woman.” “How do I get any of that?” “We can subpoena the check-in records using the credit card statements. A police report would give us access to the surveillance footage. As for the woman’s identity…” Ms. Carter paused. “I can have someone look into that for you.” “How much will it cost?” “Seven thousand five hundred. That covers the private investigator and all my preliminary legal fees.” I nodded. “Okay. I can transfer it to you now.” “No rush,” Ms. Carter said, closing her laptop. “First, I have a few questions.” “Go ahead.” “One, whose name is on the house deed?” “Mine. I made the down payment of seventy-five thousand before we were married, and I’ve been the one paying the mortgage.” “Two, how old is your son?” “Two.” “Three, what’s your monthly income?” “Six thousand after taxes.” “And four,” she said, leaning forward, her gaze intense. “What do you want?” I met her eyes and said, each word deliberate and clear, “I want the house, I want my savings back, I want our son, and I want Jacob to walk away with absolutely nothing.” A slow smile spread across Ms. Carter’s face. “Ruthless. I like it.” She stood and extended her hand. “It’s a pleasure to be working with you.” I shook it. “The pleasure is all mine.” As I left her office, I sent a text to Sarah: It’s done. Her reply was instant: Go get him! I stood on the sidewalk, watching the cars rush by. Three years ago, I married Jacob thinking I had found the person I would spend my life with. Three years later, I’d discovered he was nothing but a con artist. But that was okay. I was going to make him pay for it. That evening, Jacob came home while I was in the kitchen making dinner. “Home early today?” I asked. “Things were quiet, so I thought I’d come home and spend some time with you.” He came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. My body went rigid, but I didn’t push him away. “You work so hard,” he murmured into my ear. I continued chopping vegetables, my hand perfectly steady. “It’s nothing.” “Oh, by the way,” he said, releasing me. “How are we doing on savings?” My heart clenched, but I kept my expression neutral. “Why do you ask?” “No reason, just wondering if we could maybe start looking at trading in the car for a new one.” A new car. Or a down payment on a condo for his “Babe”? I turned to face him, forcing a smile. “There isn’t much left. It’s all gone to the mortgage and raising our son these past few years.” “Oh.” His disappointment was obvious. “Well, never mind then.” I looked at him and felt a wave of disgust. This was the man who, three years ago, promised to take care of me for the rest of my life. Now, he was trying to figure out how to get his hands on my money to buy another woman a house. “Dinner’s ready,” I said, carrying the plates to the table. Jacob sat down and picked up his fork. I sat across from him, watching. He ate with gusto, taking a large bite of steak. “You know, nobody cooks like you.” I offered a tight smile. “Is that so?” “Of course,” he said, looking up at me. “You’re the best wife in the world.” The best wife in the world. I wondered, had he said the same thing to “Babe”? I looked down at my plate and kept eating. My phone buzzed. It was a text from Ms. Carter: Investigation is underway. I’ll have a full report for you in three days. I texted back a simple “OK” and put my phone down. Three days. I just had to endure this for three more days. 3. On the evening of the third day, a file from Ms. Carter appeared in my inbox. I opened it, and the first page made my breath catch in my throat. Tiffany, 23. An intern in the marketing department at Jacob’s company. The photo showed a young, pretty woman with a sweet smile. The second page was a detailed log of her hotel stays with Jacob. Thirty-eight times. Always the Hilton, room 1806. The third page contained photos from the private investigator. The two of them holding hands while shopping. Laughing together in a restaurant. Entering and leaving the hotel. The fourth page was a copy of the bank transfers. Ninety-five thousand dollars from Jacob to Tiffany. Two hundred transactions, all listed in black and white. The fifth page was an audio file. I clicked play and heard Jacob’s voice. “Babe, I checked out that condo. The down payment is one-twenty. We can scrape it together.” Tiffany’s voice replied, “But I thought you said money was tight?” “Don’t worry, I’ll figure something out.” “What about your wife…?” “She’ll never know. She’s so clueless.” Clueless. He called me clueless. I closed the file and took a long, shuddering breath. Okay. This was it. I picked up my phone and called Ms. Carter. “I received the file.” “Is it enough?” she asked. “It’s more than enough,” I said. “I’m confronting him tomorrow.” “Are you sure? You don’t want to wait?” “I’m done waiting,” I said, my gaze fixed on the dark city outside my window. “I’ve been disgusted long enough.” After the call, I walked into the living room. Jacob was watching TV, our son asleep in his arms. It was a picture of domestic bliss. A beautiful, poisonous lie. “Jacob,” I said. He turned his head. “What’s up?” “We need to talk.” “About what?” “About your ‘Babe’.” His face changed in an instant. “What… what are you talking about?” I walked over, gently lifted our sleeping son from his lap, and carried him to his bedroom, closing the door behind me. When I returned to the living room, I sat down across from him. “Your Venmo. You sent two hundred payments to someone named ‘Babe,’ totaling ninety-five thousand dollars.” Jacob shot to his feet. “You went through my phone?” “I did,” I said calmly. “I also read your WhatsApp messages. Over five hundred of them. You called her your wife. You told her you were going to marry her.” “I…” “You also went to the Hilton, room 1806, thirty-eight times. At two hundred and fifty dollars a pop.” “Laura, just let me explain…” “There’s nothing to explain.” I held up my phone and opened the photo gallery. “I have screenshots of everything. I have the printed bank statements. I hired a lawyer and a private investigator. They have pictures of you two.” I held the phone out to him. He took it, his face turning ashen as he swiped through the images. “When did you…” “Three days ago,” I said, my eyes boring into his. “The night you left your phone at home.” He collapsed back onto the couch, his head in his hands. “I’m sorry…” “Sorry?” I laughed, a harsh, ugly sound. “You gave her ninety-five thousand dollars while giving me five hundred a month for our family. And you’re sorry?” “I… It was a moment of weakness…” “A moment of weakness that lasted two years?” I stood over him. “Two hundred money transfers? Thirty-eight hotel bookings?” “Laura, I swear, I know I messed up. Just give me one more chance…” “A chance?” I stepped closer. “When my father was in the hospital, I begged you for ten thousand dollars, and you told me the company’s funds were tight.” I locked my eyes on his. “But that very same month, you sent her twelve thousand.” He wouldn’t look at me, his silence a confession. “I made the seventy-five-thousand-dollar down payment on this house. I pay the twenty-eight-hundred-dollar mortgage every month. I cover the fifteen hundred dollars it costs to raise our son. And on top of all that, I gave you five hundred dollars a month for ‘expenses’.” My voice was steady, but every word was a razor blade. “You took my money and you used it to keep her for two years.” Jacob looked up, his eyes red-rimmed. “I really am sorry, I know I was wrong…” “It’s too late.” I turned, picked up a document from the coffee table, and threw it in front of him. “That’s the divorce agreement. Sign it.” “Laura!” He lunged for my hand. I snatched it back. “Don’t touch me.” “I’m not signing it! I’m not getting a divorce!” “It’s not up to you.” I gestured to the papers. “The house is legally mine—I made the down payment before we were married and I’ve paid the mortgage. Our son is two; I’ll get full custody. The thirty thousand left in my savings account is from before the marriage; that’s mine, too.” “And that ninety-five thousand you gave her? That’s marital property you illegally transferred. I’m getting it back.” He stared at me, stunned. “You… you’re going to leave me with nothing?” “That’s right,” I said, looking down at him without a shred of pity. “You don’t deserve a single penny of my money.” “Laura, you can’t do this…” “I can’t?” I cut him off. “When you were sneaking around, did you ever stop to think that maybe I couldn’t handle this?” He had no answer. I grabbed my purse and walked to the door. “The agreement is on the table. You have until tomorrow to sign it. Otherwise, I’m filing.” “Laura!” I shut the door, cutting off his voice. Downstairs, I stood on the sidewalk and took a deep, gulping breath of the night air. My hands were trembling. Not from fear. From rage. And something else… relief. It was finally out. I didn’t have to pretend anymore.

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My dad, pitying my decade-long unrequited crush, decided to play Cupid by drugging his much younger friend and dumping him in my bed. When he woke up, Julian coldly agreed to marry me. But shortly after the wedding, Julian started taking frequent business trips abroad. One trip turned into three years. I gave birth to our daughter, Lily, alone and waited for him. Three years later, hearing he was finally returning, I skipped an important business meeting and took Lily to the airport to welcome him. Lily begged for a hug, but he just glanced at me indifferently. “Sorry, I’m a germaphobe.” From then on, Lily and I washed our hands three times before touching anything. The house was spotless. But he still didn’t come home. And he never hugged our daughter. Until I saw a video. Someone asked him: “Julian, what’s your happiest moment?” He replied casually, “Last week abroad. Putting Jojo to sleep, then pulling Kiki into the bathroom.” Amidst the cheers, my blood ran cold. Kiki was his lingering ex-girlfriend. Jojo was her daughter. Rumor had it that for the past three years abroad, they had been living together. Turns out, it was true. My heart died completely. I left the divorce papers, canceled our citizenship, and took my daughter abroad. 1 The nanny brought Lily back from kindergarten, her eyes swollen from crying. “Mommy, do I not have a daddy…” She hiccuped between sobs, utterly heartbroken. “Daddy promised to come to my parent-teacher conference, but when he arrived, he said he was Jojo’s daddy.” “Mommy, they all said I’m a kid with no daddy, waaaah…” A dull pain hit my chest. I hugged my daughter tightly, eyes reddening. I wanted to comfort her, but remembering Julian’s cold attitude, the words stuck in my throat. I regretted everything. I thought after three years, he finally came around and wanted to reunite with us. Turns out, it was just because Kiki wanted to come back. He bought tickets without hesitation, arranged everything, and even transferred his ex’s daughter to the best kindergarten. The day we picked him up at the airport, Lily wore her prettiest dress and asked nervously: “Mommy, will Daddy like me?” I nodded. “You are Daddy’s only daughter. Of course he will.” But when we arrived full of hope, we saw Julian holding Kiki’s hand, carrying a three-year-old girl. Lily and I froze. Julian glanced at me indifferently. “Sorry, I need to settle Kiki and Jojo first. You guys go home.” He didn’t even look at Lily, but gazed tenderly at Jojo. Thinking of this, I closed my eyes in despair. “Sorry, Lily. It’s Mommy’s fault. Mommy will go to your parent-teacher conference next time.” After washing Lily’s face and coaxing her to sleep, her little brow remained furrowed. “Daddy, hug me…” My heart felt like it was being pricked by needles. If not for that incident three years ago, Lily wouldn’t have to suffer like this. Three years ago, my dad, seeing me pine for Julian for ten years, drugged Julian’s drink and put him in my bed. I was shocked. “Dad, are you trying to kill me?” Dad sighed. “I’ve seen it long ago. You like Julian, and that kid likes you too, just too stubborn to admit it.” “That day when he was drunk, I heard him call your name. You two are too slow, might as well cook the rice.” I resisted, but suddenly felt my body heat up. Dad chuckled. “Your drink was spiked too. Cherish tonight.” Then the door was locked from the outside. After that night, Julian woke up and said coldly, “Vivian, I’ll take responsibility. Let’s get married.” I thought a happy life was about to begin. But at a party, I accidentally overheard him talking to friends. “Julian, don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Vivian is hot, rich, and loves you. Just settle down.” Julian sneered while smoking. “At first I liked her too, but I didn’t expect her to be so easy.” “Thinking of how she drugged me and threw herself at me that night… it disgusts me.” Before I could explain, he got a visa and went abroad two weeks later. But that night gave me a child. I gave birth to Lily alone, waiting day and night for his return. What I got was his entanglement with Kiki and her daughter. The empty villa was silent. I took out my phone to call Julian and ask when he was coming back. Suddenly the door opened, and Julian walked in coldly. He glanced at the sleeping Lily and said casually, “Jojo is coming to play tomorrow. You and Lily go out.” Meeting my confused gaze, he smirked and explained, “Jojo is possessive. She can’t stand other girls calling me Daddy.” I had been holding back anger, and now it exploded. I laughed in anger. “Julian, do you even know who your biological daughter is?” “Do you know what happened to Lily at kindergarten today…” Julian frowned slightly, interrupting me. “Vivian, you don’t need to remind me.” “I’m sorry about kindergarten today. Jojo needed someone too. Kiki is divorced and raising a child alone is hard.” “Besides, before I met you, I swore to Kiki I wouldn’t let her suffer.” “I already married you as you wished. You can’t stop me from caring about them. I owe them.” Julian threw down his coat and went to the bathroom. The sound of running water drowned out my desperate sobbing. If I knew life would be like this after marriage, I would have died rather than submit that night. I smiled bitterly at the divorce agreement I just drafted on the computer. If not for Lily, with my personality, I would have divorced long ago. But thinking of Lily’s grievances, I wanted to try one last time. I didn’t want her to lose her father so young. Lily woke up early and jumped on her bed excitedly when she heard Daddy was back. “I’m going to show Daddy my drawing!” Kids forget easily. Lily had already forgiven Julian for yesterday. She ran downstairs happily. But she saw Kiki and Jojo. Julian was gently peeling an orange for Jojo. “Daddy, who are they?” Seeing Lily still home, Julian frowned. “Why are you still here? Where’s your mom?” Lily was scared but carefully presented the family portrait she spent a week drawing. “This is the family portrait I drew for Daddy…” Just as she handed it over, a small hand snatched it rudely. “What a trash drawing!” Jojo stomped her foot and tore it in half. She put her hands on her hips arrogantly and shoved my daughter hard. “This is my Daddy! Lily, everyone says you’re a bastard child! Who allowed you to call him Daddy!” Seeing Lily crying on the floor, I rushed over, helped her up, and glared at Jojo. “Apologize.” Julian frowned, displeased. “Vivian, why are you so mean to a child?” He picked up Jojo without a word. “I told you last night Jojo hates others calling me Daddy.” “She’s just upset, she didn’t mean to push Lily.” I stood my ground. “Didn’t mean to? Didn’t you see it?” “Julian, she just called Lily a bastard. Tell her, is Lily really a bastard?” Julian hesitated, but still comforted Jojo softly, with no intention of apologizing. Kiki rolled her eyes and apologized with a fake smile. “Miss Song, so sorry. Jojo grew up abroad, she’s outspoken. Don’t take it to heart.” Hearing this, the girl in Julian’s arms looked even more smug. “I’m not wrong! Classmates said Lily is a bastard! She stole my Daddy!” I clenched my fists, staring coldly at Julian. He said he was a germaphobe, so Lily and I endured it. He used overtime as an excuse to mess around with another woman, and I turned a blind eye. But now, I can’t tolerate anyone calling my daughter a bastard. “Julian, I’m asking you again—” “Is she?”

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I was the daughter of the recently bankrupt Ji family. To save the company, my father married me off to the newly minted tech tycoon, Luke Yan. No one knew that Luke was the ex-boyfriend I had ruthlessly dumped. On our wedding night, he looked at me coldly: “Don’t think I still have feelings for you. Marrying you is just a temporary measure. Once the acquisition is over, we’re divorcing.” Suddenly, a row of bullet comments floated across my vision. [The villain’s body is soft, only his mouth is hard.] [Supporting Actress, don’t believe him! I testify he drools over your photo every night.] [Villain on the outside: Don’t think I like you. Villain on the inside: Boohoo, why isn’t wifey comforting me yet?] [Supporting Actress, you’re confused! Trust me, call him ‘Hubby’ once, and he’ll instantly turn into a love-sick puppy, licking your boots clean.] Watching Luke prepare to leave, I tentatively called out: “Hubby?” The man’s figure froze instantly. His deep eyes locked onto me, looking like he wanted to devour me whole the very next second. 1 “What did you just call me?” Luke’s voice was hoarse. Though still cold, the “keep away” aura from moments ago had vanished. Knowing the bullet comments’ advice worked, I immediately softened my tone: “Can you not leave? It’s thundering outside, I’m scared.” I wasn’t lying. Since my grandma passed away, I’ve been terrified of thunder. Luke knew this. He stared at me for a long time. Just when I thought he would leave, Luke took pajamas from the closet and went into the bathroom. Didn’t he shower already? Since when did Luke become such a germaphobe? The bullet comments went wild: [Silly baby, that’s not being a germaphobe, that’s hehehe…] [Supporting Actress called him ‘Hubby’ and the villain is probably burning up. If he doesn’t hit the bathroom now, he’s gonna embarrass himself.] [Can’t blame him. The villain hasn’t touched a woman in years, relying on the clothes and photos the Supporting Actress left behind. It’s understandable he couldn’t hold back.] [Ah, even in there, the villain is whispering the Supporting Actress’s name. These two are pure love!] [Upstairs, do you have a misunderstanding of ‘pure love’?] I was stunned reading the comments. Is this a comment section or a red-light district? Why are the black texts getting yellower and yellower? My face flushed red. I resisted the urge to eavesdrop at the bathroom door, changed into my pajamas, and lay on the bed. An hour later, Luke came out of the bathroom. He wore only pajama pants, shirtless. I had to admit, I’ve never seen a man with a better body than Luke. It was the ceiling of lean muscle, oozing sexual tension. Crystal droplets slid down his firm pecs and abs, slowly disappearing into his sexy V-line. I couldn’t help but swallow. 2 “Seen enough?” The man’s voice was emotionless. I immediately looked away: “Who’s looking at you?” Bullet comments: [You’re not happy when you look, not happy when you don’t.] [As soon as the Supporting Actress looked away, the villain’s brows knitted into a knot.] [Don’t be afraid, Supporting Actress! We don’t just want to look, we want to touch! Bet you if you touch him, the villain has to go to the bathroom again?] Of course, I didn’t dare touch him. I knew how strong Luke was. He had endless brute strength. Before I could even touch him, he might snap my wrist the next second. The bullet comments were a bunch of chaos-lovers. The man beside me seemed to hesitate for a while before taking another quilt from the closet and lying down. A king-sized bed, forcibly divided by a river. [Won’t share a quilt with wifey now? Just wait until she dies, you’ll be crying over her photos every night.] [Cherish the days you can still see the Supporting Actress. She’s the most beautiful character in the book, and soon she’ll be gone.] Yes, from the comments earlier, I knew I was going to die soon. This world seemed to be a “crematorium” angst novel (where the male lead regrets treating the female lead badly). Luke was the villain, and I was his early-dying “White Moonlight” (first love). The protagonist was Luke’s half-brother, Lucas. Luke’s mother committed suicide due to depression caused by Lucas’s mother’s interference. Since then, Luke lived a poverty-stricken life with his grandparents. This caused him to harbor hostility towards Lucas. Although it was just the beginning of the story, their companies were already showing signs of rivalry. The real fuse would be my death. I was supposed to go abroad for work the day after the wedding. Abroad, I would encounter Lucas’s friends. To vent anger for Lucas, they hired some local thugs to teach me a lesson. Unexpectedly, the thugs coveted my beauty, assaulted me, and threw my body into the sea. Thus, Luke went completely mad, reaching a point of no return with Lucas. But how could a villain beat the protagonist? In the end, Luke died in the same sea where I had my accident. Seeing this, I immediately took out my phone and canceled my flight for tomorrow morning. I told my assistant to change tomorrow’s meeting to online. If the other party disagreed, cancel the cooperation. Making money isn’t as important as staying alive. Bullet comments: [?? The Supporting Actress isn’t going abroad? Great! She’s so beautiful, it hurts to think of her dying so miserably.] [This is a rare romance novel villain who doesn’t fall for the heroine. The villain had such a miserable childhood, author please give him a good ending.] [No matter how miserable, it doesn’t change the fact that he hurt the male and female leads. How can anyone whitewash the villain? Do you have any morals?] [Fine, fine, upstairs is noble. I wish you to still love the brother who took everything from you after experiencing everything the villain did.] [Honestly, if I went through what the villain did, my resentment could feed ten evil gods.] 3 I was engrossed in the comments when the man beside me turned over, letting out a pained groan. Luke had an old injury from being hit by a heavy object at a construction site years ago. It hurt whenever it rained. Thinking of the comments saying he stayed a widower for me for decades and eventually died in the sea with my ashes… My eyes felt hot. My hand tentatively reached into his quilt, slowly climbing onto his shoulder. I felt Luke’s body freeze, but he didn’t stop me. Until my hand touched his chest muscles, Luke’s breath hitched. He grabbed my hand, voice hoarse: “What are you doing?” I pursed my lips: “Where’s the medicated oil? Shall I rub it for you?” The man’s grip on my hand tightened, his Adam’s apple bobbing violently. I knew what Luke was thinking. Before we broke up, I used to massage him often, but every time, things would spiral out of control. The more I thought, the hotter I felt. I quickly pulled my hand back and turned my back to him. “If you don’t want to, forget it. Sleep.” [Ahhh, Supporting Actress, why did you retreat? The villain’s string of reason was about to snap!] [Don’t worry. Since the Supporting Actress isn’t going abroad, that string will snap sooner or later. Dilated pupils are her destiny.] The comments were too much. I simply closed my eyes and pulled the quilt over my head. Maybe because the wedding was too exhausting, I unknowingly fell asleep. 4 The next day, I woke up suffocating. Opening my eyes, my face was buried in the man’s full chest muscles. Luke was holding me in his arms. His large hand tightly circled my waist. When did I crawl into Luke’s quilt? I struggled a bit. Luke seemed to sense it and dissatisfiedly hugged me tighter. My head was buried in his chest again. I endured and endured. Finally unable to bear it, I struggled out of Luke’s arms and took a breath. How can a man’s muscles be this hard? Hard as iron, almost suffocated me. I went to the bathroom to wash up and found clear bite marks on my neck in the mirror. [Supporting Actress, don’t doubt it, the villain bit you.] [Ahhh, who understands how I felt watching the villain bite her last night? His behavior is really like a dog marking its territory.] [Thinking of the villain carefully scooping his wife into his arms yesterday and stealing several kisses makes me laugh.] Fingering the bite marks Luke left, I couldn’t help but chuckle. [??? Wait, why is the Supporting Actress laughing too? Does she enjoy being bitten by the villain?] [Okay, okay, the villain is perverted enough, now the Supporting Actress is perverted too. Shipping them is my destiny.] Ignoring the comments, I happily went to the kitchen to make breakfast. I didn’t have time to observe yesterday, but now I saw Luke’s home was terrifyingly cold and hard. The whole house only had three colors: black, white, and gray. Because he disliked others touching his things, there wasn’t even a servant. The fridge was pitifully empty. I took out a can of luncheon meat, muttering to myself. “I really don’t know how he lived these years.” “What are you doing?”

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1 At the company dinner, my girlfriend’s childhood sweetheart accused me of stealing his diamond watch. In front of everyone, he snatched my briefcase and dumped its contents onto the floor. When I demanded to see the security footage to clear my name, my girlfriend, Isabelle, just looked at me with contempt. “Leo, I know your mom’s medical bills are piling up, but that doesn’t give you the right to steal.” With that one sentence, my fate was sealed. Everyone was convinced I was a thief. I was ostracized by my colleagues and mocked by the man she truly loved. Eventually, I took my mother and disappeared without a word. But Isabelle, the high and mighty CEO who had never looked down, spent the next five years searching for me like a madwoman. … When I returned to the private dining room, everyone stared at me. I could feel their strange, accusing glances, but I was too preoccupied to care. “Ms. Meng,” I said to Isabelle, “something’s come up. I have to go. You all have fun.” The hospital had just called. My mom was feeling down after her chemo session, and they asked if I could come and sit with her. But Richard, Isabelle’s golden boy, stepped in my way. “In a hurry to sell off the goods, Leo?” I was completely lost. “Sell what off?” “Still playing dumb? You’re a thief. You stole my diamond watch.” My brow furrowed. “Richard, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t steal anything.” He shot me a look of pure disdain. “We all went out to watch the floor show. You were the only one who stayed behind in the room. If it wasn’t you, who else could it be?” I’d stayed behind because my mind was a thousand miles away, consumed with worry for my mother. A song and dance performance was the last thing I could stomach. “You can’t just make accusations like that without proof,” I said, my voice tight. “That’s slander.” Richard’s eyes flicked to the briefcase in my hand. “You stole my watch, and now you’re rushing off to fence it. I bet it’s still in that bag.” He spoke with an air of command. “Open your bag. Let me see.” “That’s just your assumption, Richard. I told you, I didn’t take it, and you have no right to search my property.” “I think you’re just scared.” Before I could react, he lunged forward and ripped the briefcase from my grasp. He unzipped it and turned it upside down, shaking it violently. A thick stack of my mother’s medical reports and treatment plans fluttered to the floor like dead leaves. I’d already been on edge for weeks, crushed under the weight of my mother’s illness. His blatant disrespect was the final straw. Something inside me snapped. I snatched my briefcase back, my voice shaking with rage. “What the hell is wrong with you, Richard? Have you no decency?” He ignored me, crouching down and sifting through the scattered papers. From the pile, he produced a watch, its face glittering with diamonds. He held it up to my face, a smirk playing on his lips. “Well, Leo? What do you have to say for yourself now? You’re a thief.” I stared at the watch, stunned into silence. “I don’t know… I didn’t take it…” Richard let out a short, cruel laugh. “It was in your bag, but you didn’t take it? What, did it just grow legs and walk in there by itself?” One of my colleagues spoke up. “Maybe there’s been a misunderstanding. I’ve worked with Leo for two years. He’s not that kind of person.” “You can know a person’s face, but you can never know their heart,” Richard said smoothly. “Two years is nothing if someone is putting on an act.” After the initial shock wore off, a cold clarity settled over me. I hadn’t stolen the watch, but it was in my bag. Someone had planted it there. And the only person here who had it out for me was Richard. He and Isabelle had grown up together; he was the one she’d never gotten over. He’d come back from America a month ago and had been targeting me from day one. I lifted my head and pointed to the security camera in the corner of the ceiling. “Pull the footage. I’m just as curious as you are to see how your watch ended up in my bag.” Richard didn’t flinch. “Fine by me. Let’s see how you talk your way out of this one.” Just then, another colleague pointed toward the wall socket. “Hey, look. The camera’s unplugged.” My eyes shot to Richard. Of course. No wonder he was so calm. He’d planned this. He seized the opportunity. “It must have been you, Leo! You unplugged it and then pretended you wanted to see the footage. Who do you think you’re fooling?” But he was mistaken if he thought that was enough to frame me. “Then let’s call the police,” I said, pulling out my phone. “Let them clear my name. If I’m the one who unplugged the camera and stole the watch, my fingerprints will be on the plug, the watch, and all over your things.” Seeing my phone, Richard’s composure finally cracked. He quickly adopted a magnanimous tone. “Look, I’ve got my watch back. I don’t want to press the issue. Calling the police would just create negative publicity for Isabelle’s company. Let’s just drop it.” “It’s not dropped for me,” I said, my gaze fixed on him. “I didn’t steal your watch. Unless you admit, right now, that you framed me, I’m calling the cops.” He hesitated, then his eyes darted to Isabelle, his expression shifting to one of wounded innocence. “Isabelle, for your sake, I’ve been more than generous. But he’s insisting on making a scene. It’s only going to embarrass you.” Isabelle’s lips thinned, a flicker of disappointment in her eyes as she looked at me. “Ms. Meng,” I started, my voice pleading, “I didn’t steal…” She cut me off. “That’s enough. This conversation is over. No one is to speak of this again.” I couldn’t hide the wave of despair that washed over me. Not only had she not defended me, but she had chosen this ambiguous, damning silence. If this wasn’t cleared up now, I would be branded a thief for the rest of my life. I shook my head firmly. “No. I need my name cleared. Tonight.” Isabelle’s brow furrowed in annoyance. “Leo, don’t push it. Are you addicted to playing the victim?” Then came the final blow. “I know your mom is sick,” she said, her voice laced with cold pity. “I know you’re desperate for money. That’s why you went after Richard’s watch.” I just stared at her, numb. “You… you don’t believe me?” She looked down at me from her pedestal. “How am I supposed to believe you? You have the motive. The evidence is right there. We have a witness.” “Leo, I told you I would help you with the money. Did you really have to do this?” I looked up at her face, the face I had loved, and it was the face of a stranger. With their CEO’s verdict delivered, the rest of the employees quickly fell in line, their whispers turning into a chorus of condemnation. “I can’t believe we have a thief in our company. What a disgrace!” “I always knew there was something shady about him. My coffee kept disappearing from the breakroom. I bet it was him.” “He’s so cheap. I strongly recommend he be fired!” “Fire him!” Isabelle’s face darkened. “I said that’s enough. This matter is closed.” The room fell silent, but their eyes still burned with scorn. The hospital called again. After taking the call, I walked out of the room and into the cold night. The wind was biting, but it was nothing compared to the ice in my heart. A Rolls-Royce pulled up beside me. The window rolled down, revealing Isabelle’s perfect profile. I ignored her and kept walking. “Get in the car,” she commanded. “Do you want everyone to see you like this?” “I wouldn’t want to trouble you, Ms. Meng. This way, there’s no risk of being seen together.” I hailed a taxi and got in, leaving her behind. We had been together for three years, a secret relationship. At first, it was my choice. I wasn’t sure how long we would last, and I didn’t want to be the subject of office gossip, labeled as some gigolo who’d latched onto the boss. But ever since Richard had returned, everything had changed. Her patience with me had worn thin, and her contempt was palpable. I knew it was over. After calming my mother at the hospital, I decided to quit. But I couldn’t be reckless. My mom’s treatment was expensive. I had to find a new job first. From that day on, life at the office became a living hell. Led by Richard, my colleagues isolated me completely. They’d “forget” to tell me about meetings, leaving me to be reprimanded in front of everyone. I’d find my chair mysteriously soaked with water. At lunch, all that was left for me were cold scraps. I lost ten pounds in a week. One afternoon, I was coming downstairs after delivering a file when I saw a group of them crowded around the office entrance, pointing and jeering at my mother. “So, what do you have to say about your son being a thief?” “They say a child’s failings are the parents’ fault. We heard Leo’s father isn’t in the picture. Did he learn how to steal from you?” My mother, her face pale and drawn, tried to defend me. She told them I had always been a good, obedient boy, that I would never steal. She said that even though she wasn’t educated, she would never teach her son to do something wrong. They treated her words like a joke, their laughter sharp and cruel. Someone shoved her. Weakened by months of chemotherapy, my mother stumbled and fell, the lunchbox she was carrying scattering its contents across the pavement. I saw red. I charged into the crowd, pushing them back. “Get away from her! All of you, get out of here!” The one who had pushed her just sneered. “I barely touched her. Look at her, playing dead on the ground. You two are probably just broke and looking for a payday.” I grabbed him by the collar. “My mother has a tumor. If anything happens to her today, I swear I will make you pay.” “If she’s sick, she should be in a hospital, not out here bothering people.” My mother had always been my entire world. I raised my fist to strike him. But she grabbed my wrist. “Leo, don’t…” We had always been on our own, with no one to rely on. My mother lived in constant fear of me getting into trouble. I lowered my hand, but shoved the man away with all my strength. I turned to my mom. “Are you okay? Does anything hurt?” She shook her head. “I’m fine.” Her voice was laced with guilt. “But the food I made for you… it’s all ruined. It’s my fault. I’ll go home and make you some more.” I had visited her yesterday, and she’d noticed how thin I’d gotten. She’d blamed herself, saying she was a burden and that I should stop spending money on her treatment. I told her I was just craving her cooking, that once she was better, she had to cook for me every day and fatten me up. I couldn’t believe it. She had made my favorite dish—her famous meatballs. I could only imagine the effort it took for her, in her frail state, to prepare them. I knelt, picked up one of the fallen meatballs from the dirty pavement, and took a bite. “It’s delicious, Mom. Just as good as always.” Tears sprang to her eyes. “Leo, don’t eat that! It’s dirty! I’ll make you a fresh batch, I promise.” Just then, the black Rolls-Royce pulled up. Richard got out of the passenger seat and shot me a contemptuous look. He turned to Isabelle in the driver’s seat. “Isabelle, I don’t believe there’s a company policy that forces employees to eat garbage off the ground, is there?” Isabelle emerged from the car, her face a mask of cold fury. She looked from me to my mother with disgust, then waved the crowd away. She turned on me, her voice sharp. “Leo, what have I ever done to you to deserve this? First stealing, and now this? Who are you trying to embarrass?” I looked at her, my heart sinking. “I didn’t steal anything, Isabelle. And this isn’t garbage. This is the food my mother made for me.” My mom rushed to explain. “He would never steal, there must be some misunderstanding, my Leo would never…” Isabelle turned and walked away, not even giving her a second glance. My mom tried to follow, but Isabelle sidestepped her as if she were contagious and disappeared into the building. Watching her back, I felt my world collapse. This was the woman I had loved for three years? The stress was too much. My mother’s eyes rolled back, and she collapsed. I frantically called an ambulance. After a tense wait at the hospital, the doctor told me she was stable but that her condition was deteriorating. He mentioned a specialized clinic in Riverbend City that had a high success rate with her type of tumor. The treatment would cost around fifty thousand dollars. He urged me to transfer her as soon as possible. I sat alone in the sterile hospital corridor, my mind a blank. Fifty thousand dollars? Where was I going to get that kind of money? A pair of gleaming leather shoes appeared in my line of sight. I looked up. It was Richard. He held out a bank card. “Leo, I know you need money. There’s fifty thousand on this. Take it, and disappear from Isabelle’s life. Forever.” The old me would have slapped the card out of his hand and told him that when I left Isabelle, it would be on my own terms, not his. But my mother’s life was on the line. She had sacrificed everything for me. I couldn’t abandon her now. I swallowed my pride. I bowed my head and took the card. “I’ll leave,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “But I’ll pay this back. It’s a loan.” A triumphant smile spread across his face. “I always told you, you and Isabelle are from different worlds. You were just a novelty to her. I’m the one she’s meant to be with.” I murmured my blessings, my voice hollow. “Then I wish you a long and happy life together.” Richard left, satisfied. Not long after he was gone, my phone rang. “Hello, is this Mr. Miller?” “Speaking.” “This is the manager of the Grand Crest Hotel. We were doing maintenance on our security system today and discovered that the camera in your private room has a battery backup. We have the full recording from the night of the incident with the watch.” He paused. “I thought you might find it useful.”

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What do you do when your husband suddenly becomes filthy rich? Divorce him. Immediately. Every second you hesitate is a second you lose. The day Gavin Sterling became the richest man in River City, I took half his assets and walked away with a smile. His eyes were bloodshot as he grabbed my shoulders. “Luna, you are heartless!” Ten years. The pig I raised was finally fat enough to slaughter. Who understands this joy? 1 I think I’m the first woman who wanted a divorce specifically because her husband got rich. The reason was simple. I discovered Gavin Sterling was thinking about cheating. He was one step away from crossing the line. After a brief moment of shock and sadness, I felt relieved. Actually, five years ago, when his company got its first round of VC funding and started exploding, I had a premonition this day would come. Gavin couldn’t escape the law of nature: men go bad when they get rich. Gavin didn’t know that when he and his buddy, Xavier, were discussing his potential infidelity in the study, I was standing right outside with a tray of coffee. “Hey, Gav, that TV host Bella is pretty hot. What do you think?” Gavin replied lazily, “The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.” “But you bought her a Maserati? That’s not how you spend money if you’re just looking, bro.” My fingers froze. My heart slammed against my ribs. A Maserati? Big spender. Then I heard Gavin’s tired voice. “It’s just a car.” “Ha! Alright, I’ll keep her warm for you. Maybe you’ll change your mind one day.” “Do whatever.” The conversation about Bella ended there, and they went back to talking business. It seemed like just idle talk between men over a cigarette. Not a big deal. I drank that coffee myself and stared at the ceiling until dawn. The irony was rich. When we got married, we were so poor we couldn’t afford a reception. Gavin was currently planning a grand wedding ceremony for me to make up for it. He felt guilty towards me, but that didn’t stop him from buying expensive toys for another woman. Heh. The human heart is unpredictable, and money is a deep ocean. Divorce. I had to divorce him. And fast! Delay leads to disaster. 2 I met with my divorce lawyer, Ryan, at a coffee shop. Coincidentally, the TV in the lobby was playing Bella’s financial talk show. This must be where Gavin met her. The young, beautiful host. Elegant, articulate, insightful. Even facing billionaires who were usually out of reach for normal people, she didn’t flinch. Ryan was an old classmate of mine, now a big-shot divorce attorney. Seeing me stare at the screen, he smiled. “Luna, that Bella looks a bit like you.” I snapped immediately. “Where?!” Bella had long hair. I had a bob. Ryan blinked, confused. “Everyone says so. We even talked about it at the reunion.” I frowned and scoffed. “That’s unfortunate.” I wasn’t in the mood to discuss Bella. I told him straight up: I wanted to divorce Gavin. “Luna, are you kidding? You finally made it to the good life, and you want out?” “Do I look like I joke about marriage?” I rolled my eyes. Our classmates had witnessed how recklessly I married Gavin back then. I couldn’t blame Ryan for being shocked. “You married him when he was dirt poor. You leave him when he’s the richest guy in town. Luna, you sure have a personality.” I replied slowly, “Ryan, I could handle the poor boy back then. Do you think I can handle the richest man in River City now?” “You’ve fought so many divorce cases. I thought you’d understand best.” Who knows the darkness and ugliness of human nature better than lawyers? Especially divorce lawyers. Ryan was speechless for a long time before he clicked his tongue and asked tentatively, “Gavin… did he cheat?” “He’s one step away.” “Then rein him in? Sentencing him to death now seems a bit harsh.” I snorted. “If I’m not harsh now, he’ll be harsh later. Ryan, tell me, in the cases you handle…” “Does the wife get more based on love, or based on the man’s guilt?” Once the mistress actually takes the throne, how much I get depends on their charity. I refuse to be the passive one! Ryan choked. “Luna, your calmness scares me.” Calmness? My calmness was cultivated over five years. Besides Bella, Gavin’s secretary, Holly, was also eyeing him like a hungry wolf. I can’t remember which day it was. I went to have lunch with Gavin. Through the crack in the door, I saw Holly standing on tiptoes to fix his tie. Then she carefully took a thermos of hangover soup from her own lunch bag. Holly was always making moves on him. He always refused. But that day, when the driver brought his lunch box home… The hangover soup I made was untouched. The knot I tied hadn’t even been loosened. Ash from my cigarette fell onto my finger. Ryan looked at me with deep emotion. “Luna, I should send my female clients to you for lessons.” I stubbed out the cigarette and smiled. “It’s useless. They aren’t willing, and they aren’t ruthless enough.” They aren’t willing to give up such an excellent husband to someone else. They think they can be the exception to the cliché. Unless it gets to the bitter end where faces are ripped off and love is dead, they can’t be ruthless. So, people shouldn’t be too greedy. Wanting money and the man? That leads to losing everything. I’m different. Because no one else does what I do: always plotting an exit strategy within the marriage. Of course. I will divorce him. But before I do… I need to use my status as Mrs. Sterling to have a little chat with Bella! 3 That evening, at the dinner table. I purposely put Bella’s show on in the background. It was the episode with Gavin. He touched his face. “What, you think I looked good that day too?” He acted flawless. Zero guilt. I almost believed the Maserati was a toy car. “Gavin, I saw a car I like.” He didn’t care. “Oh? Rare for you to care about cars. Which one? I’ll go with you to pick it up.” I looked at him calmly. “Maserati Levante.” His smile faded slowly. He looked at me with a calculating gaze. “I thought you liked Range Rovers?” I tapped the table. “Fine. Range Rover it is.” As long as it was more expensive than a Maserati. Not long after, I crossed paths with Bella. Her Maserati crashed into my Range Rover. I planned it. Unfortunately, her car was fragile. Bella stood helplessly by her car, glaring at my bumper with resentment. Two luxury cars colliding caused a traffic jam. The police arrived instantly. “Miss Bella, the dashcam shows you made an illegal U-turn. You are fully liable.” Bella looked heartbrokenly at her crumpled door, the shattered headlights, the bent bumper. “Couldn’t you have just let me go? I was prepared to take the points on my license, but now look, both cars need repairs.” Her eyes turned red, playing the victim immediately. Her entitled attitude stunned the cop. An angry male driver nearby shouted, “You’re used to people letting you have your way, huh? That’s a Range Rover! Why would she be scared of you?” “Satisfying! Only magic beats magic!” I watched the show enough, then slowly opened my door and got out. Bella’s accusations hit me in the face. “Why were you driving so slow?! Is the road a shopping mall? I wanted to pass, and you wouldn’t let me. Were you blocking me on purpose?!” “I was in a rush, I had no choice but to step on the gas, you—” Her words died in her throat when she saw me. Her face went pale instantly. I smiled. “Driving such a nice car, but still rushing to work for money? Seems a Maserati can’t change destiny.” “You need a good man for that. Then you could drive leisurely like me.” Bella gritted her teeth, face turning iron gray. She got back in her car without a word. She told the cop, “It’s settled, right? I’ll pay.” The cop nodded and hurried to clear the traffic. I watched her drive away thoughtfully and let out a cold laugh. I was in a hurry to divorce. But surprisingly, Bella was in more of a hurry than me. Or maybe she was just pissed I wrecked her car. A few days later, I received a video file from Xavier’s phone. At a square mahjong table, Gavin was sitting next to Bella, pointing at her tiles. Bella glanced at him sideways, voice dripping with sugar. “Mr. Sterling, which one should I play? My palms are sweating.” Gavin looked at her indulgently. “Whatever you want. If you lose, it’s on me.” The others at the table roared with laughter. When Bella looked down to draw a tile, her long hair fell forward. Gavin naturally picked up a hair tie from the table and tied her hair back for her. “Play well, okay?” My fingers trembled as I tugged at my own short hair. I slammed the phone off and threw it on the bed. A sour, aching feeling surged up. I couldn’t stand steady; blood rushed to my head. I gripped the edge of the desk tightly to calm myself down. If his cheating partner wasn’t Bella, I might have actually let him go peacefully. Not long after receiving the video, Xavier called. He anxiously defended himself. “Sis, I’m so sorry, I couldn’t recall the message. I didn’t mean to send it, it wasn’t me!” “Please, don’t tell Gavin.” I replied flatly, “I know it wasn’t you.” He let out a huge sigh of relief. “Don’t overthink it. You know how Gavin feels about you. That was just a social scene.” “I guarantee, I could cheat a hundred times and he wouldn’t cheat once!” “So someone is trying to drag him down.” He wiped imaginary sweat. “Yes, yes, Mrs. Sterling is sharp as always. My bad.” I hung up, bored. I didn’t believe a word from that playboy. But one thing was true. He wouldn’t dare send that video to me. Only a woman like Bella, with her “family heritage” of climbing the ladder, would do something like that! Xavier’s comment, “I’ll keep her warm for you,” proved he was interested in Bella too. He just didn’t dare snatch food from the tiger’s mouth out of respect for Gavin. It wouldn’t be hard for Bella to get his phone. I called Ryan. “How’s it going? Takes you a week to write a divorce agreement?” “No way, we’re old friends. I was giving you time to cool off.” “If I don’t get it tomorrow, I’m finding someone else.” “Alright, alright, fine.” Time to show my hand to Gavin. 4 I walked into the CEO’s office and made my demand straight away. “Gavin, I need you to do something for me.” Gavin leaned his elbows on the desk, fingers interlaced, looking at me with a measuring gaze. “Mrs. Sterling seems hostile today.” I leaned forward, forcing a smile that didn’t reach my eyes. “I wouldn’t dare. I’m just here to ask Mr. Sterling for something.” “What?” I enunciated every word. “The keys to the Maserati Levante.” He froze. His face went through a kaleidoscope of expressions. We stared at each other for a few seconds, neither backing down. Finally, he tried to coax me helplessly. “Luna, that’s not important. It didn’t cost much.” His face said I was being unreasonable. “You’ve never been a petty person.” I couldn’t be bothered to argue. “Mr. Sterling, can you get them back?” Gavin stared at me intently, trying to gauge how serious I was. I stared right back. He gritted his teeth, rubbed his brow, and finally replied, “Fine. Tomorrow.” This was the first time I hadn’t given Gavin face. But it didn’t matter. Goal achieved. “Thanks.” I smiled faintly and turned to leave without hesitation. As my hand touched the doorknob, Gavin’s voice came from behind. “Luna, are you jealous?” I replied ambiguously, “You can think that.” Once I got the Maserati keys, I drove straight to the TV station and asked Bella out. In the cafe downstairs, Bella arrived late, looking haggard. Doesn’t feel good to have a gift repossessed, does it? “Miss Bella, please sit.” I raised my hand. Her eyes locked onto the car key next to my coffee cup, pupils shrinking violently! She sat down rudely and sneered at me. “Is Mrs. Sterling here to show off?” She flipped her hair, looking at me defiantly. “Mr. Sterling did ask for the key back, but for a man of his status, taking back a gift means an even more expensive compensation later.” I looked at her blandly. Of course I knew such simple logic. But I didn’t care. “And doing this really makes a man lose face.” I waited for her to finish, then slowly pushed the car key toward her. “His face doesn’t matter to me. Miss Bella, a Maserati isn’t worth showing off. I took it back because…” I paused. She looked at me warily. I chuckled. “I just wanted to give it to you personally.” She looked at me sharply. “What do you mean?!” I spoke slowly. “If you want it, I can give it. But you cannot snatch it. Understand, my dear sister?” Her face went instantly pale. The coffee in her hand splashed. She quickly put it down. I crossed my arms and sneered at her. At that moment, I was a porcupine with all quills out. Yes, Bella is my half-sister from a different mother. As of today, we hadn’t seen each other in twenty years. So we both pretended not to know each other. Actually, the moment I heard the name Bella, I knew it was her. At the accident scene, Bella recognized me immediately too. Her target was Gavin. How could she not research who Mrs. Sterling was? She just hadn’t officially ascended to the throne yet, so she kept a low profile. Based on my knowledge of her mother, Wendy, and their family education… Once she succeeded, Bella would put on a pitiful face and say, “Sister, I’m so sorry, I really didn’t know Gavin was my brother-in-law.” I wouldn’t give her that satisfaction! Divorce is fine. But letting Bella even smell Gavin? That would be my failure. She wants to pull the same stunt Wendy pulled on my mom? Impossible. Thanks to that mother-daughter duo, I learned a lesson very young. Never give anyone the chance to catch you off guard!

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I’m an NPC in a horror survival game. When a new batch of players loaded in, something weird happened: I could suddenly see the stream chat floating in the air. [Here she comes! Our precious baby girl has arrived!] [Even the Level Boss in this horror game is going to treat her like family.] [Any NPC who dares to touch a hair on her head is gonna get ripped to shreds by the Big Bad.] [Hey, I’m talking to you! You, holding our waifu! You scared her into fainting! You are SO done when the Boss gets here.] I looked down at the woman dangling from my grip, hesitated for a second, and then tossed her onto the floor. If the Boss of this dungeon can’t do his job properly, then I’ll do it for him. 1 I’m a veteran NPC in the horror game system. My tenure is so long I’ve honestly lost count of the years. I just remember the early days, when we were short-staffed, and I had to moonlight across multiple dungeons. I played the Drowned Bride in River God’s Wedding. I was the Cult Deity in Mountain Sacrifice. I was even the Mean Cheerleader in Oakwood High. Eventually, the roster filled up, and I got a permanent station. Three years ago, I transferred to this specific dungeon. Since the moment I gained consciousness, I’ve memorized the 108 rules of the Employee Handbook. Scare the players. Torture the players. Eat the players. The higher their Terror Meter, the better they taste. We’re only one day into this cycle, and I already snagged a player. A girl. She was so scared she cried until she passed out. Players like this usually die in the prologue. I was planning to take her back to my lair, bread her, and deep-fry her. The smell alone would make the ghouls next door cry with jealousy. But I’d only taken a few steps when the text started scrolling across my vision. [Let go of Baby Girl, you ugly freak!] [You are dead meat! The Male Lead is looking for her, and she has the ‘Family Bond’ buff with the Level Boss.] I stood there for a moment, feeling a wave of indignation. Who are you calling ugly? I am widely considered the cutest monster in a ten-mile radius. [She’s so soft and fragile, being held by that hideous thing must be terrifying.] [Look at that axe in her head! I’m gonna have nightmares.] I was mad. Furious, actually. I opened my mouth to curse them out, but the chat just spammed more insults. [What is it doing?] [Is it glitching?] [God, the AI is so stupid.] I got so angry that I circled back to being calm. Whatever. I ignored the floating text, grabbed the girl, and headed back to prep dinner. But I didn’t get far before someone blocked my path. I scanned him. New player. Probably part of the same party as the girl I was carrying. The guy in the lead was handsome, in a delicate, boy-band sort of way. Not my type. The moment they saw me, they tensed up and pulled out their items. The chat exploded, and I couldn’t help but peek. [The Male Lead is here! RIP Ugly.] [Chase has cleared so many dungeons. His items are S-Tier. He can one-shot a low-level mob like this, no problem.] I glanced at the guy. The chat called him “Chase.” Apparently, his gear was “OP.” I grinned, ripping the axe out of my own skull. I charged. Screams erupted. Half the players behind him bolted immediately. Sweet, sweet Terror Points. Come to mama! I sprinted at Chase with a twisted, limping gait. This little combo move usually makes players wet themselves. I learned the walk from the Nurse NPC next door. She died jumping off a building and broke her legs, so her walk is naturally janky. When I first mimicked her, she got super offended. It took me lending her my axe as a hair accessory to calm her down. She even gave me tips on how to limp scarier. Chase lived up to his “Male Lead” title. He waited until I was right in his face before deploying his item. A blinding white light flashed. I couldn’t see anything but the dense wall of chat comments. [AHHH! Chase is so cool!] [That ugly thing is dust.] [It’s a Legendary Item. An NPC doesn’t stand a chance. That’s what it gets for touching our Queen.] The light faded. Chase and I stared at each other in awkward silence. Then, I screamed. My axe! My beautiful axe had crumbled into dust! Chase looked horrified. “My S-Rank Holy Light… didn’t work on her?” The chat, serving as the third-party observer, was equally shook. [What the hell? How is that NPC still alive?] [Glitch? I swear Chase used that to one-shot a Boss in the last game.] [Isn’t this just an A-Rank dungeon? It shouldn’t be this hard. Plus Bella has the ‘Universal Adoration’ trait.] [Yeah, her synergy with the Male Lead is supposed to be perfect.] I was seeing red. My eyes literally started glowing. That axe was the one that killed me. It had been with me for… forever. The memory of the axe breaking tore open a sealed part of my mind. My father killed me. He called me a monster. When my mother was alive, he just hated me. After she died, I lost my only shield. He decided to dispose of “the freak.” That night, he walked into my room, face twisted in hate, the axe raised high. After I died, I used that same axe to return the favor. Violent, tyrannical energy flooded my brain. The chat scrolled faster. [Uh, guys? I think the NPC is going Berserk.] [Crap. If the Male Lead’s item didn’t work, is this a TPK (Total Party Kill)?] [No, look! Bella just woke up! She’s gonna trigger the plot armor. She’ll bring the Big Boss.] [Yeah, this NPC is about to get wrecked by the Level Boss.] I marched toward Chase, step by heavy step, muttering with obsession: “You broke my axe.” “You broke my favorite axe!” Chase’s face was pale. He threw items at me like they were free samples. They slowed me down, but nothing actually hurt. Just as my hand was about to close around Chase’s throat, a shout came from behind. “Stop!” The chat cheered. [Bella called the Big Boss to save the day!] [Sobbing, she’s right on time.] [Die, trash mob!] A familiar pressure weighed on my mind. My brain automatically pulled up the Employee Handbook. Rule 21: Within the dungeon, the Level Boss’s command is absolute. 2 A good employee always remembers the handbook. The rage in my brain began to recede. My eyes cleared. The chat became readable again. [Bella’s family is here!] [Imagine being a grunt NPC and bullying the Main Characters. Don’t you know the plot armor is thick?] The woman the chat called “Bella” threw herself at Chase, crying an ugly, snotty cry, checking him for injuries. “Oh thank god, you’re okay! I was so scared!” I covered my eyes. Hello? Single NPC right here? I died before I even hit puberty, have some respect! A familiar aura swept over me. Luke’s voice boomed above my head. “You’re the one bullying Bella?” The chat filled with schadenfreude. [It’s over. That blind NPC is toast.] [She’s getting arrogant for cannon fodder.] [The Male Lead is human, so he has limits. But the Boss? He’ll rip her apart in seconds.] [Bella is the ‘Group Pet’ of the horror world. All Bosses love her.] [Seriously, the last NPC who scared her got their head twisted off. It’s probably still rolling around that dungeon.] I slowly rotated my head 360 degrees to face Luke. I wasn’t trying to scare him; it’s just occupational habit. When he saw my face, Luke’s ghostly pale complexion shifted. Awkwardness mixed with a hint of fear. He let out a dry laugh. “Sweetie… oh, it’s you.” “Where’s your axe?” “Heh, I almost didn’t recognize you without it.” The chat froze for a second, then erupted in confusion. [Excuse me? Is this the ruthless Boss we know?] [Shouldn’t he be tearing her to shreds and telling Bella ‘I’m here, don’t be scared’?] [Am I tripping, or does the Boss sound… affectionate?] [What is happening? OOC! OOC! The book says they level up together. Bella charms the monsters, Chase kills the threats.] I gave Luke a smile that didn’t reach my eyes. Through gritted teeth, I said, “This human broke my favorite axe.” Luke instinctively wiped non-existent sweat from his forehead. He pulled me aside and whispered, pleading, “Sweetie, give me a break. Let it go this time, okay?” I looked up at him. “Do you remember the Employee Handbook?” Luke nodded. “I remember.” My face was stone cold. “Recite it.” Luke stammered through the recitation. Only then did I nod in approval. Luke whispered, trying to bribe me. “You know that item you always wanted? The one I wouldn’t give you?” “I’ll give it to you.” 3 My eyes lit up. It was a beautiful red wooden comb. I’d wanted it forever, but he’d always refused. Finally! I accepted the bribe and walked away, happily playing with the comb, glancing at the chat occasionally. The viewers were furious at Luke’s reaction. [What kind of Level Boss is this? Garbage! Just kill the NPC!] [He’s unworthy of being Bella’s family.] Some were curious. [Anyone else wonder what the relationship is between the Boss and that NPC?] I tilted my head, thinking about that comment. What relationship? Gratitude, probably. After all, Luke only became the Boss of this dungeon because of me. Back when Luke was a player, entering this dungeon for the sixth time, I caught him. I hadn’t had deep-fried human jerky in ages. Crunchy, dipped in a little blood sauce… the ghosts next door would drool. I dragged Luke back to my lair. Just as I was about to prep him, he used a “Scapegoat” item and bailed. Because of that item, when he faced the original Boss, he managed to kill it, but the item’s curse bound him to the dungeon, making him the new Boss. We’re neighbors. We see each other all the time. He tried to bully me at first. He blamed me for wasting his Scapegoat item—if I hadn’t caught him, he would have saved it for the Boss fight and escaped the game entirely. Becoming a Boss amplifies your rage and malice, so he tried to torture me. It didn’t work out for him. I beat the living daylights out of him. The Owner even punished me by making me copy the Employee Handbook for two weeks because of it! I happily walked home with my new comb. I only work one hour a day. The Owner says scaring players 24/7 devalues the product. Supply and demand, or something. Dungeons have rules. I missed my snack today, but there’s always tomorrow. The game lasts five days. Plenty of chances. I lay in my small room, but the chat wouldn’t shut up. [Ahhh! Chase is so handsome! Hero saving the beauty!] [Bella is so delicate. They are perfect together.] [Ugh, that NPC is even uglier without the axe. Get away from Bella!] I sat up, annoyed. Do these people have eyes?! I jammed the red comb into the hole in my head where the axe used to be and checked the mirror. I am adorable! The Owner told me I am the cutest girl in the world. Thinking of The Owner, I rested my chin in my hands, smiling. 4 Nobody in the dungeon—NPC or player—has ever seen The Owner. Some say he’s a God. Who else could create this nightmare dimension? Some say he’s a higher-dimensional alien. Usually, he appears as a ball of light. But I’ve seen him. The real him. I’m going to work for him forever. With my axe broken, more memories unlocked. The Owner is beautiful. But his hands are cold. The first time I scared a player into tears, he patted my head and said, “Good job, Sweetie.” Right. “Sweetie.” He gave me that name. When we first met, I had an axe stuck in my skull. I charged at him, screaming. He just bent down and picked me up. “Do you want to come with me?” I snarled and struggled. My own father wet his pants looking at me, but this man gently brushed the hair out of my face like the axe wasn’t even there. “You’re very cute. Do you have a name?” “I have a name!” I roared. He tilted his head. “No name? Let me give you one.” “How about Sweetie?” He ignored my protests, smiling. “Sweetie it is.” He led me into the Dungeon World. Years ago, there weren’t many dungeons. Most players died fast. The Owner had free time. He’d braid my hair. He’d draw whiskers on my face like a cat. He’d look at me with that teasing smile and say, “I think you look pretty like this.” I sighed softly. I missed him. I was so bummed out I stopped reading the chat. The next night, my shift started. The players were smarter now. They figured out the rules. Dungeons aren’t instant-death traps. There are patterns. I circled around but couldn’t find an opening to attack without breaking the rules. The chat mocked me. [LOL, look at Ugly go.] [She swapped the axe for a comb. Fashion icon.] [She’s so mad. Bella and the crew figured out the mechanics.] [Look at her spinning in circles.] [First-person NPC cam is kinda funny, ngl.] I ignored them. When my hour was up, I clocked out. Dungeons aren’t impossible, but they are highly lethal.

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