Category: English

1 My last ride of the day was my ex-wife, who I hadn’t seen in seven years. She had changed so much. Dressed head-to-toe in designer brands, the jade bracelet on her wrist alone was worth eight figures. Through the car window, she whipped off her sunglasses, her voice catching. “Noah Vance… you’re alive?” I averted my gaze, pulling the surgical mask higher on my face. My voice was flat. “Are you the rider with the phone number ending in 1793?” Shannon bent down and slid into the passenger seat, her eyes never leaving me. Her expression was a storm of conflicting emotions. “After you escaped from the psychiatric hospital… why didn’t you come back to me?” Her voice faltered, a barely perceptible tremor in it. “These past years… have you been okay?” I didn’t answer her. I just silently pulled down my mask. A patchwork of burn scars covered my face, blurring the features she once knew. The torture, the days where death seemed a mercy, had been enough to burn away all the love and hate I ever felt for Shannon. … Shannon’s gaze was fixed on me. Throughout the drive, she opened her mouth to speak several times. But each time she looked at my face, the words died in her throat. Finally, she looked down, her voice barely a whisper. “After the fire… I looked for you.” I stared straight ahead at the traffic light, one hand on the steering wheel, and said nothing. Her lips trembled, but she pressed on. “During the search and rescue, they couldn’t find any survivors. We all thought you were dead.” My fingers tightened on the wheel. Hearing about my own death from someone else’s lips was a special kind of irony. I gave her a noncommittal reply. “Still breathing.” Shannon sensed my cold, detached attitude. She clutched her Chanel bag, and the words failed her again. The silence in the car was heavy, almost suffocating. Following the GPS, I drove into an upscale neighborhood in the heart of the city. Before I could even unlock the doors, a child’s voice chirped from outside. “Mommy! Daddy and I missed you! You promised to take me to the amusement park!” A little girl ran at full speed and threw herself into Shannon’s arms. Shannon’s face softened into a smile as she kissed the girl’s cheek. “How about tomorrow? Pinky promise.” In seven years, Shannon had remarried and had a child. She was living a life that was a universe away from mine. The man beside her, Evan, was smiling, until his eyes landed on me. I saw a flicker of pure shock in his eyes. “Mentor? Is that you? You’re still alive.” Everyone seemed shocked that I was alive. And no one seemed particularly happy about it. Evan took Shannon’s hand and led the child over. “Annie, this is Daddy’s mentor. Go on, say hello.” My fingers tapped lightly on the steering wheel. A tremor went through me. That name. It was the one Shannon and I had chosen together. A boy would be Arthur, a girl, Anna. Shannon had spent three days and nights poring over a dictionary to find those names. But the child we were supposed to have… we lost it. As I was lost in thought, the little girl saw the charred, puckered skin on my face and burst into tears. Shannon immediately scooped her up, cooing softly, her hand covering the child’s eyes. Evan’s lips curved into a smirk. When he looked at me, his eyes were full of smug triumph. “Sorry about that, Mentor. Annie’s still young. She’s probably just a little scared of you.” “To make up for it, why don’t you come inside? It’s been too long.” My expression didn’t change. His thinly veiled insults didn’t faze me. Who would have thought that Evan, who once couldn’t even afford a decent set of clothes, now lived in the most expensive, exclusive villa complex in the city? When I didn’t respond, Evan’s smile faltered, and he looked down, his voice laced with false apology. “Mentor, are you angry with me… for marrying Shannon?” “You were gone for seven years. She was crying every single day. I couldn’t bear to see her like that, so I…” I cut him off, my voice calm. “Do I know you? Why would I be angry with you?” The expression on his face froze. Even Shannon took a hesitant step forward. I could see the guilt in her eyes. “I know you’re still angry with me, but what happened back then…” She wanted to explain, but any explanation would be laughably inadequate. “The way you are now… if there’s anything you need, I’ll help you.” “No, thank you.” Perhaps back then, when I was locked away in that hospital, I really did need her help. Every day, every night, I begged them to let me see her, just once. But now? Why would I hold out hope for the person who personally threw me into hell? 2 After leaving the complex, I parked in a lot not far from my apartment. I put my mask back on and kept my head down, avoiding the curious stares of passersby. Before I could react, someone slammed into my side. “Watch where you’re going! Don’t you have eyes? Young people these days, so reckless!” The sharp, biting tone stopped the apology on my lips. I looked up. My heart skipped a beat. It was my mother. She saw my face, didn’t recognize me, and took a few disgusted steps back. Her friend tugged on her sleeve. “Let’s go, let’s go. What bad luck.” I stood frozen as they walked away. In seven years, her hair had grayed, but her personality was the same. Caustic, cold, and cruel. The cold night wind bit at my skin. I shivered, rubbing my arms, and hurried home. The apartment was quiet. I’d been living alone for the past few days. I took off my thin jacket. In the bathroom, the mirror reflected the hideous scars on my back. That spot… was where my mother had once carved her disownment into my skin. The Vance family had produced a single heir for eight generations, each one a giant in the world of chess. That included me. At the time, I had just won my thirty-second international championship. My list of accolades was endless. Everyone agreed my achievements had surpassed my father’s, even my grandfather’s. And on that same day, I married Shannon. They all envied me. Even I believed my life was charmed. Until I met Evan, who at the time couldn’t even afford his tuition. I offered him a lifeline. I sponsored his living expenses, taught him chess, and took him on as my protégé. Evan was smart. He knew how to charm my mother and how to evoke Shannon’s pity. But slowly, everything began to change. At first, it was just Shannon mentioning him more often. Then, she started making him lunch every day, memorizing all his dietary habits. When I questioned her, she just laughed and called me paranoid. “Evan is your protégé. I’m his mentor’s wife. He’s had a hard enough life. It’s only right that I look after him.” Until the third month of Shannon’s pregnancy, when there was an accident, and the baby was gone. When I heard the news, I was overseas. I flew back immediately, not sleeping for dozens of hours. I messaged Shannon nonstop, but there was no reply. When I finally rushed to the hospital, I found her sobbing in Evan’s arms. I had never seen her so fragile. Evan was comforting her, his hands gently stroking her back, as if she were a precious, breakable treasure. I froze, staring at the scene before me. When my mother arrived, she slapped me across the face. “You’re not worth a fraction of him!” That day, it felt like I lost more than just a child. The icy splash of tap water on my face pulled me back to the present. I turned on the shower, trying to wash away the old scars on my back with cold water. After nearly an hour, my skin was red and swollen. When I stepped out of the bathroom, a text message popped up on my phone. Mom’s 70th birthday is the day after tomorrow. I’ll come pick you up. There was no name attached, but I knew it was Shannon. I stared at the message for a long time. After escaping that fire, I had spent countless days and nights wondering. What did my mother see me as? A son, or a tool to bring the family honor and money? I looked down, my fingers tapping on the screen. Okay. 3 Two days later, I was in the back seat of Shannon’s car, watching the scenery fly by. Evan, in the passenger seat, spoke up, his voice loud. “I didn’t think you’d agree to come, Mentor.” I didn’t respond. Shannon’s eyes kept finding mine in the rearview mirror. The silence was thick, broken only by the soft breathing of the sleeping child. “Evan… Mom adopted him as her godson,” Shannon explained, her voice stiff. The hand supporting my head tensed. I lowered my gaze and said nothing. My mother’s 70th birthday banquet was being held at the most luxurious hotel in the capital. The guest list was a who’s who of the city’s elite. My reflection in the glass doors showed a man in a loose, ill-fitting suit. The scars on his face were a grotesque map. Compared to them, I was a ghost at the feast. I followed behind Shannon, and the stares immediately found me. Until my mother appeared. When she saw Shannon and the child in her arms, her face broke into a wide, happy smile. “Mom, I brought Noah back. He’s alive,” Shannon said, stepping forward. “I thought… he should come home.” I glanced at her, at the desperate way she was trying to explain. It was almost funny. Was she trying to assuage her own guilt, or did she genuinely want me back? I had no idea. My mother’s gaze followed Shannon’s and landed on me. There was no shock in her eyes, no surprise. Only disgust. “I have no son like him!” Even though I knew it was coming, a sharp pain lanced through my heart. “Mom.” The word had been on the tip of my tongue for seven years. That day was the last tournament before my birthday. My opponent was Evan. The match was being broadcast live, screens everywhere showing our faces. My mother was in the audience, as always. But that day, she didn’t seem to see me. Her eyes kept darting to Evan, cheering him on. Shannon, too. No one expected me to win. I played with a rare focus. Evan was completely outmatched. But halfway through, he called for a stop. He looked at me in disbelief. “Mentor, would you really cheat just to win?” His clear voice echoed through the arena. My hand, hovering over a piece, froze. I looked up at him, uncomprehending. The referees signaled a timeout and approached my table. “Mr. Vance, please cooperate with our investigation.” They searched my pockets. In the inner lining of my jacket, they found a black chess piece. My entire outfit for the match had been prepared by Shannon. A ringing filled my ears. I shook my head, numb. “I didn’t.” The flash of a dozen cameras blinded me. Before I could process what was happening, I heard the referee announce my disqualification. My mother strode forward and slapped me across the face. Her voice was ice. “How could I have a son so shameless!” Overnight, I went from a celebrated genius to a pariah. I fled, leaving the frenzied pack of reporters behind me. I had to find Shannon, to ask her what was happening. As I ran down the stairwell, I skidded to a halt. The sight before me felt like it would tear my eyes from their sockets. 4 Evan had Shannon pressed against the wall, his hand on her waist, kissing her with a savage intensity. Their clothes were half-off. It was the sound of my footsteps that made Shannon snap back to reality. A desperate roar tore from my throat. I kicked Evan away and lunged for Shannon, my hands closing around her neck. “Why? Why would you do this to me?!” “You planted that piece in my jacket so Evan could win! Why?!” Shannon broke free from my grip and rushed to help Evan, who had fallen to the floor. Evan scrambled to his knees in front of me, his hands clasped together. “Mentor, it wasn’t her fault! It was all me! I know I’ve wronged you…” I wanted to tear him to pieces. When he was at his lowest, I was the one who helped him. When he had no money to bury his parents, I paid. When he had no money for school, I paid. I taught him everything I knew, hoping he would shine in the world of chess. “But why would you do this to me?” I stumbled back, tears streaming down my face. Shannon’s expression had turned cold and calm. “Yes, I planned it. You have everything. Evan has nothing.” “And yes, Evan and I are together. We’ve been together since the day I lost our baby.” “Mom knows, and she doesn’t disapprove. She said if you can’t accept it, we can get a divorce, but I’ll still be a part of the Vance family.” Her words shattered me. I don’t know how I left. For the next week, I was a ghost. My mother publicly disowned me, striking my name from the family records. Shannon and Evan started appearing everywhere together. The news was filled with my scandal. To prove my innocence, I swallowed my pride and went to the tournament officials, demanding the surveillance footage. But just as I found the key piece of evidence, Shannon had me committed to a psychiatric hospital. Her face was a cold mask. “Evan is young. Are you trying to ruin him? Haven’t you earned enough glory in your life?” Shannon and I had been betrothed since birth. From the day she was born, she was meant to be a Vance. After we married, we were the couple everyone envied. But now, for another man, she had destroyed me. I had never been so broken. I knelt before her, clutching her hands, begging. “Do you know what this tournament meant to me?” “It was my birthday. You said you had a gift for me. I don’t want anything else. Just give me back my name. Please?” I bowed my head to the floor, pleading with her. But she was ruthless. She had me locked away. In that place, I endured unimaginable torment, both physical and mental. I wasn’t sick, but they were determined to make me so. A month after I was admitted, a fire broke out in the hospital. Everyone died. I escaped with my life, but I might as well have been dead. “Noah, just admit to what you did. Apologize. Maybe then you can come back and live a normal life.” Shannon’s voice pulled me back to the present. I couldn’t help but laugh. Why should I apologize for something I didn’t do? The stares of the other guests were like daggers, all of them waiting for the next act of the drama. I looked at my mother. Meeting her cold gaze, I spoke softly. “Happy birthday, Mrs. Vance.” With those words, the last of my old attachments fell away. She was right. She didn’t want me as a son anymore. The papers had been signed. There was no reason for me to go back. Both Shannon and my mother’s eyes widened. “You were right. I don’t have a mother like you, either.” The color drained from my mother’s face. I turned to Shannon, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “No one knows the truth of what happened back then better than you. Don’t you feel even a little bit guilty?” I strode out of the hotel. Shannon followed me, sticking to me like a shadow all the way back to my apartment. She was a frantic mess of explanations and apologies. “I’ve regretted it every single day. I can’t sleep at night. I have to take sleeping pills just to get a few hours of rest.” “I…” As I unlocked my door, she tried to follow me inside. I blocked her path. I glanced at my watch and cut her off. “Miss Florence, my wife will be home soon. She’s a bit timid and doesn’t do well with crowds.”

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I’m a journalist who specializes in the minds of monsters. There was this one serial killer, call sign “X.” He’d butchered seven sex workers, gutted them like fish, and harvested their organs. Interviewing him was my white whale. I dreamed about it. Then the news broke: X was dead. Murdered. The guy who killed him? Ethan Vance. Here’s what I know about Ethan: We were classmates in elementary school. He’s a Ph.D. in Criminal Psychology. The guy was a genius, damn near perfect SAT scores back in the day. His girlfriend is an escort. His little sister vanished in the red-light district years ago. 1 I flew a thousand miles from Chicago to Seattle today just to sit across from Ethan Vance. Ethan is currently being hailed as a hero for taking out “X,” the twisted psycho who terrified the West Coast for five years. X was a copycat, modeling himself after Jack the Ripper. He’d carve an “X” into the victim’s face after removing an organ. Over the last decade, I’ve hit every major penitentiary in the country. I’ve sat down with hundreds of killers. They usually fall into three buckets: lust, vengeance, or passion. Then there’s the fourth bucket: The Deviant. Simple translation: I killed you, and I don’t need a reason. I still remember my first interview. The kid was 19. He killed a runaway foster kid in his rural hometown. I asked him why. He told me: “I was curious. I wanted to see what a human face looks like when the lights go out. What would he say? Would he twitch? Would he claw at the dirt like a dying cat, or whimper and cry like a puppy? I had to know. He was weak, alone. No mommy or daddy to save him. I lured him into the cornfield and shanked him right in the kidney. The look in his eyes… humans are different than animals. More pathetic. He held his side and ran, leaving this long, bright red trail through the stalks. I just walked behind him. Watching him stumble was hilarious. When he bled out and collapsed, I flipped him over. He didn’t look hateful. He looked begging. His last words were, ‘Please, save me.’ I carved my initials into him. I wanted to thank him for being my first. I wanted to be with him forever. To commemorate the occasion, I gouged out his eyes and hid them in the root cellar of my old abandoned house.” That interview stuck with me. But after a decade, the stories got stale. Same old motives. I needed something fresh. I needed a monster like that 19-year-old again. Then X showed up. The first body was missing a heart. An “X” carved on the cheek. The police thought it was a crime of passion. They wasted months looking for ex-boyfriends with “X” in their names. Three months later, another city. Another escort. Liver gone. “X” on the face. Six months later. Another city. Kidney gone. This time, the killer posed her. Legs together, arms crossed over her chest, eyes shut. He painted colorful wings on the pavement around her waist. From above, she looked like she was ascending to heaven. The victim had a brother who never showed up to ID the body. Later, a monk reported her ashes stolen from the temple. Victims four, five, six, seven. All escorts, all orphans. X started getting artsy. He nailed one girl’s palms to a wooden cross. He posed another like “The Thinker.” Then, silence. For three years, X vanished. Until recently. A body appeared in a dumpster. “X” on the face, heart missing. No art, just trash. The cops caught the guy in three days. The media cheered. But while everyone was celebrating, a drunk stumbled down a dark alley in Portland. He saw a woman framed inside a giant picture frame mounted on the wall. Her lips were stapled into a smile. It was a macabre Mona Lisa. Left breast removed. “X” on the face. A note was tucked in the corner: Dear Officers, I am X. I will not let some amateur take credit for my life’s work. The surveillance state makes it hard, but I had to come out to tell you: You will never catch me. – Oct 6, 2017. The handwriting was elegant. He punched a hard dot after the date, showing his rage. Surveillance footage from a dark corner caught a glimpse of him. One leg didn’t bend. He walked with a limp. Experts analyzed the gait. Eight out of ten doctors said the limp was real, likely an injury between the calf and thigh. Fast forward to 2020. October 6th. X is dead. And my old pal Ethan Vance held the smoking gun—or rather, the flower vase. I pulled strings. The Chief in Seattle loves my book, The Anatomy of Murder. He told Detective Ramirez to give me the green light. 2 Ramirez led me to the interrogation room. Ethan looked at me with genuine shock. “You? You’re the reporter?” “Surprise, buddy,” I laughed. “I’m kind of a big deal in the true crime world now. You’re a hero, Ethan. You took down X. I flew a thousand miles for this scoop. You got a lawyer? I know some sharks.” “No need,” Ethan said calmly. “I don’t need one.” “Fair enough. The internet wants you getting a medal, not a prison sentence.” I played it cool. Started with small talk to loosen him up. We talked about 5th grade. How he was the smart orphan kid everyone loved. How I shared my mom’s dumplings with him. We reminisced about catching cicadas in the woods by the graveyard. He used to have this stray dog, a mutt named Buster. I was so jealous of that dog. My mom wouldn’t let me have one because they were “dirty.” “I loved that dog,” I said. “Whatever happened to him? He live a long life?” “No,” Ethan said, his voice flat. “Summer of 6th grade. He didn’t come home. found him by the road with his skull cracked open. Adults said a car hit him.” “That sucks,” I said, shifting gears quickly. “Remember Old Man Jenkins? The guy with the limp? We used to steal his watermelons. I’d distract him, you’d grab the melon. He couldn’t chase us with that bad leg. He’d hobble around, shoulders bobbing up and down. Funny as hell.” We both laughed. The ice was broken. “So,” I leaned in. “How did you kill X?” “I already told Ramirez.” “I want to hear it from you. For the book.” Ethan sighed. “Fine.” Here’s his story: He went to check on Chloe (formerly known as Fang Xinyun), the girl X was targeting. He knocked, no answer. But he heard glass breaking inside. Worried, he kicked the door in. He found Chloe on the floor, an “X” drawn on her face in red marker. As he went to help her, a shadow moved across the floor. Sunlight hit it. He turned around. A masked man lunged with a knife. They fought. Ethan grabbed a heavy flower vase and smashed it over the guy’s head. The guy went down hard. Ethan called the cops. The guy was dead. One hit. Later, Chloe woke up in the hospital. She told the police the attacker was a regular client who was obsessed with her. He wanted to run away with her. When she refused, he snapped. He screamed at her: “I’m X! The police haven’t caught me in ten years! Since you won’t come with me, you’ll be my next masterpiece.” He knocked her out. Then Ethan arrived. 3 “That’s it?” I couldn’t hide my disappointment. “What do you mean?” “It’s so… basic. No offense, but I wanted X to be caught alive. I wanted to pick his brain. But he died from a vase to the head? It lacks flair.” “Life isn’t a movie, Jack. You have a weird fetish for ‘flair’.” “Maybe.” I wrapped up the interview, but something smelled off. The narrative was trash. Serial killer falls for hooker, gets rejected, tries to kill her, gets bonked by a nerd with a vase. It wouldn’t sell books. And wait—Ethan is a prestigious Ph.D. Why is he hanging out with an escort? I needed to talk to Chloe. I went to her apartment. She slammed the door in my face. I slid ten $100 bills under the door. Money talks. She let me in, but her story was identical to Ethan’s script. When I asked about her relationship with Ethan, she snapped. “What, a Ph.D. can’t date a girl like me? You men are all the same.” “Chill, I’m just asking.” “Get out! Take your dirty money and get out!” She threw the cash at my face. I crouched down to pick up the bills. That’s when it hit me. Like a lightning bolt. I stood up and looked around. The windows faced North and South. They were covered with frosted paper. It was the exact time of day Ethan claimed the fight happened. There was no shadow on the floor. Not a distinct one. Ethan lied. 4 Why did he lie? And is X really dead? I rushed to the precinct and told Detective Ramirez. Ramirez smirked. “Not bad, reporter. We knew he was lying. Honestly? We suspect Ethan might be X.” “What? No way. Why?” “His travel records. Over the last few years, Ethan has been in every city where X killed a girl, right around the time of the murders.” “Coincidence? He’s a profiler.” “Maybe. But when you stare into the abyss, right? Plus, his sister. Her file has been cold for years. We think she’s dead.” I went back for a second interview. “What is your relationship with Chloe? Really.” “She was my patient,” Ethan said. “Then my girlfriend. I was testing a new hypnosis therapy. Long-term, slow-burn suggestion. I needed a volunteer who would let me reshape memories.” “Hypnosis? You serious?” “It works. Chloe was scared of someone. She told me under hypnosis that a man wanted to cut her heart out. She wouldn’t give me a name. We grew close during the sessions. I fell for her. I went to her place that day to confess my feelings, and I walked in on the attack.” “Did the experiment work?” “No.” “Okay. Next question. Ramirez thinks you’re X. Your travel history matches the murders.” “I’m a criminal psychologist. I study X. I track him. I go to the crime scenes to profile him. I felt like I knew him. I never expected to be the one to kill him.” “Right. One more thing. You said you saw X’s shadow on the floor. I went to Chloe’s apartment. The lighting, the frosted glass… you couldn’t have seen a sharp shadow. Why lie?” Ethan froze. He opened his mouth, but Ramirez burst in and dragged me out. 5 Ramirez looked grave. “No more interviews. We found new evidence.” They found a shrine of X’s photos in Ethan’s house. The dead guy’s real name was Caleb. Caleb didn’t die from the vase. He died of poison. Caleb sent a text to Chloe before he died: “Run. Ethan is X.” They found microscope slides of human tissue in Ethan’s apartment. “I can’t let you talk to him anymore,” Ramirez said. “But if you want to investigate on your own… be my guest. Just don’t print those four points yet.” I went back to the hotel, buzzing. But something didn’t add up. Ethan said he met Chloe six months ago. I went back to Chloe’s. I harassed her until she slipped up. “What hypnosis? I’ve known Ethan for three years!” She slammed the door again. Ethan lied about the timeline. I needed to know about Caleb. The dead “X.” I went to Caleb’s apartment. The landlord was clearing it out. “He was a quiet guy,” the landlord said. “Had a girlfriend once, then she stopped coming. He got skinny. Looked like a skeleton recently. No way he killed people. He didn’t have the strength to open a jar.” The room was empty. Just a bed and a desk. I looked around, frustrated. Then I saw a picture frame on the wall. It wasn’t a painting. It was a slide puzzle. I started sliding the tiles. Head. Torso. Legs. Wings. Click. It formed the image of X’s third victim—the “ascending angel.” The frame popped open. A notebook fell out. I opened it. It was a list of phone numbers and cities. I called the first one. “Hello?” A woman answered. “Hi, um…” “Look, it’s $200 for an hour, $500 overnight. Condoms mandatory.” I hung up. Called the next. “I told you, I haven’t seen any customers with a limp! Stop calling!” I froze. The notebook was a directory of sex workers across the country. A photo slipped out of the back pages. It was a group shot: St. Jude’s Home for Boys – New Year’s Eve. I recognized the kids. It was Ethan. His little sister, Lily. And a third boy holding her hand. That boy must be Caleb. Ethan and the “Killer” grew up together.

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1 My grandmother’s life was hanging by a thread after a hit-and-run—a severe brain hemorrhage. I took the driver who did it to court, only to find my wife, Ava, who was supposed to be on a business trip overseas, standing right there in the hospital. “Do you have any idea how critical Leo’s evaluation as our star intern is?” she hissed, her voice sharp and cold. “His entire future can’t be destroyed over one little car accident!” “Drop the lawsuit. Now. Or I’ll freeze all your accounts and have your grandmother moved to a general ward.” The door slammed shut behind her, the sound echoing her final, chilling words. “Don’t even think about coming home until you agree to drop this. And if you don’t, you can forget about being my husband, too!” Desperate for the surgery funds, I called everyone I knew, but every door slammed in my face. Then, just as I was losing all hope, a team of lawyers found me. They brought news that changed everything: the patent for the core technology my grandmother had licensed to Vance Industries had expired. And I was now the new patent holder. … After the payment for the surgery failed, I stormed into my wife’s office. “Ava, how could you? You froze my accounts for a complete stranger?” I slammed my hands on her desk. “Don’t you know Grandma needs emergency brain surgery? Does her kindness, everything she’s done for you, mean nothing?” The memory of her icy demeanor at the hospital fueled my rage. Ava looked at me as if I were some hysterical child throwing a tantrum. “Ryan, just look at yourself,” she said with a sigh. “What’s done is done. Yelling at me isn’t going to change anything.” Her tone was so dismissive, as if my grandmother were battling a common cold, not fighting for her life. I stared at the woman I had been married to for twelve years, and my heart turned to ice. “Have you forgotten how Vance Industries even got started?” I demanded, my voice shaking. “Have you forgotten how she took a knife for you during that mugging? She still has permanent nerve damage in her back because of it! And now, you’re throwing away her only chance to live, all for some intern? Ava, do you even have a soul?” When we were dating, my grandmother had used every connection she had to support Ava’s dream, paving the way for her success. The very patent that earned Vance Industries hundreds of millions in profit each year? Grandma had licensed it to her for a symbolic fee of a few million, just to see her succeed. Every single achievement of her company was built on my grandmother’s generosity and genius. And this was how Ava repaid her. At my words, Ava’s cold composure finally cracked, replaced by searing anger. She hurled her coffee mug at my feet. It shattered, sending shards of porcelain slicing into my ankle. I felt the warm trickle of blood. “What’s the point of dragging up all that ancient history?” she spat. “Right now, all you need to do is drop the lawsuit, tell everyone your grandmother fell on her own, and this will all be over.” She stepped closer, her eyes blazing. “If you keep pushing this and delay her surgery, the person who kills her won’t be the driver—it’ll be you!” I looked at this woman, so familiar yet so alien, and a desolate emptiness filled me. I remembered when we first fell in love. She’d run through a downpour just to walk me home. She’d stayed up all night by my bedside when I was sick. She had been so afraid she wasn’t good enough for my family, studying relentlessly, promising she’d have children whenever I was ready. Now, it felt like I was truly seeing her for the first time. Seeing my silence, she sneered. “Ryan, don’t use these pathetic little tricks just because you’re jealous of Leo. You’ve had the privilege of being my husband for a decade. You should be grateful.” Grateful? I didn’t argue anymore. I turned and walked away. My grandmother’s surgery was all that mattered. Leaving her office, I called a few friends I’d always been close with. Usually, they were all smiles and warmth. Today, they treated me like I had the plague. “Ryan, come on. You’re completely dependent on your wife. Going against her like this won’t do you any good.” “Just let the accident go. You don’t even have any proof. Stop being so stubborn and go apologize to her.” “Man, Ava Vance is one of the most powerful people in this city. We’d love to help, but our hands are tied.” The sun beat down, but I felt like I was trapped in a block of ice. Anger and a profound sense of betrayal churned in my gut. My phone rang. It was Ava, her voice as cold as steel. “I’m giving you one day to drop the lawsuit. If you don’t, don’t blame me for forgetting we were ever married. Leo has an academic conference to attend overseas!” Then, a softer voice chimed in from her end. “Ava… if it’ll make Ryan feel better, I don’t mind taking a little heat.” It was Leo. “I just hate to disappoint you after all the years you’ve invested in me.” Ava’s tone grew even colder. “Ryan, do you really want to make this ugly for everyone? Do you think your grandmother would want to see you destroying the career of a brilliant young man like this? Let me tell you, even if you refuse, I have my ways.” She hung up. I clenched my fists, the image of my grandmother in the ICU flashing in my mind. A wave of helplessness washed over me. All those promises we made, all those vows… they were no match for time. My phone rang again. It was the lawyer. “Mr. Evans, the patent your grandmother licensed to Vance Industries has expired. Six months ago, she legally transferred ownership to you.” Vance Industries had become a titan in its field, and Ava had long forgotten that it was my grandmother’s exclusive technology that had allowed her to crush the competition. The young, eager woman who used to follow my grandmother around the lab, diligently taking notes and sneaking me snacks, was gone. All that remained was the ruthless CEO of Vance Industries. Looking at my grandmother lying in the ICU, hooked up to a dozen machines, a deep, burning hatred for Ava ignited within me. How could she protect the very person who had nearly killed her mentor, her benefactor? I would not let Leo get away with this. I would make them both pay. The lawyer explained that my grandmother had the foresight to prepare the patent transfer documents before our wedding, making them my pre-nuptial property. Even as her husband, Ava couldn’t touch them. It was late afternoon by the time I got home. I only intended to grab some documents, but I found Ava and Leo sitting together on the living room couch. In Leo’s hand was the good luck charm my grandmother had given me for protection. Rage erupted in me. “Who told you you could touch my things? Put it down! And get the hell out of my house!” Startled, Leo scrambled behind Ava, putting on a pitiful, wounded act. “Ryan… everyone at the office is already talking about how you’re trying to have me arrested over the accident. I… I can’t even work there anymore.” He started to get up. “I shouldn’t have bothered you. Ava, I’ll just go back to the office.” Ava grabbed his arm and pulled him back down onto the couch, their bodies now closer than they were before I walked in. “Ryan, I’m giving you an out. Go to the police station today and withdraw the complaint,” she commanded. “Vance Industries has no place for a man who causes this much drama.” Her ability to twist reality was so sickening it made my stomach turn. I ignored her and went upstairs to gather my evidence. “Ava, you remember this,” I called down, my voice hard. “It’s not you leaving me. It’s me throwing you away!” She froze, her hand dropping from Leo’s shoulder. She rushed to the bottom of the stairs and grabbed my wrist. “What did you just say?” I laughed, a cold, bitter sound. “I said I have no interest in used goods.” “Say that again,” she whispered, her eyes turning red, her voice dangerously low. Leo, terrified by the sudden tension, fumbled with the charm. It slipped from his fingers and shattered on the floor. My vision went red. “You did that on purpose!” Leo’s eyes welled with tears as he shook his head. “Ava, I was just scared… Ryan frightened me. I can apologize…” But Ava shielded him. “It’s just a stupid trinket. You don’t need to apologize for anything.” She knew how much that charm meant to me, how my grandmother had prayed over it for my safety. And she dismissed it like trash. I took a deep breath, forcing down the inferno in my chest. “Fine. I’ll leave. You two can have the place to yourselves.” I walked past her, pausing at the door. “And soon, the position of husband will be vacant, too. Whoever wants it can have it.” Her face contorted with fury. My taunt had hit its mark. She swung her hand and slapped me across the face, so hard I stumbled and fell. “What the hell are you talking about? Leo is a student I mentor! I see him as a younger brother! Are you trying to ruin both our reputations with these disgusting lies?” I touched my stinging cheek. The anger was gone, replaced by a hollow, dead silence. In twelve years, she had never laid a hand on me. The first time was for him. Ava ruthlessly threw my suitcase out the front door. “Don’t think you can control me, Ryan! I don’t care where you go! You have half a day left. Drop the lawsuit!” The door slammed shut. I silently picked up my luggage and headed for the law firm, where I collected the official patent transfer documents. Staring at the thick stack of papers, the product of my grandmother’s life’s work, my eyes burned. My lawyer handed me another contract. “Mr. Evans, Helios Corp is willing to offer $180 million for a five-year licensing agreement. Would you be interested in discussing it?” That night, my grandmother’s legal team and I finalized the deal with Helios Corp. As soon as the advance payment hit my account, I had my grandmother transferred to the best private hospital in the city and scheduled her surgery with the top neurosurgeon. The next day, I received an invitation from Helios Corp to attend a major industry summit. I never expected to run into Ava and Leo there. “Ryan, what are you doing here?” Leo asked, his eyes darting between me and the female CEO of Helios Corp. His tone was slick with insinuation. “I know Ava was a little harsh yesterday, but did you really have to start cheating on her this fast?” He smirked, his face a mask of contempt. “And with one of Vance Industries’ biggest rivals, no less. How pathetic.” Helios Corp was a rising star in the tech world, and Vance Industries’ most formidable competitor. It was only because of my grandmother’s patent that Vance had managed to stay one step ahead. I watched him run his mouth, my expression unreadable. Thinking he’d hit a nerve, he grew bolder. “Ava told me that if you just apologize and drop the lawsuit, she’ll forgive you. Pulling a stunt like this in public just embarrasses her. You don’t deserve to be her husband.” Before I could respond, Ava walked over, her eyes sweeping over me with disdain. “Ryan, have you made enough of a scene? We don’t air our dirty laundry in public. Must I teach you that?” She shook her head. “You’re a grown man, yet you’re less mature than an intern. You should be ashamed of yourself.” The Helios CEO frowned, about to speak, but I gave her a subtle shake of my head. “What I do,” I said, looking straight at Ava, “is none of your business.” Ava rolled her eyes, an impatient smirk playing on her lips. “You’re the husband of the CEO of Vance Industries. Of course it’s my business. Stop being so dramatic.” The one-day deadline I gave you is up,” she continued, her voice dropping to a low threat. “If you don’t drop the suit, I really will cut off your grandmother’s medical resources.” I just smiled. “Go ahead.” Ava stared, her brow furrowing. “Yesterday you were ready to tear the world apart for her, and now you’ve found a new woman you’re just going to abandon her? I knew it. You were never worried about her. You were just trying to get back at me!” Her voice rose with conviction. “Besides, do you really think Helios can beat us? Have you forgotten that Vance Industries holds the patent to your grandmother’s core technology?” She leaned in close, whispering, “Just be a good boy, Ryan, and you’ll always be my husband. And your grandmother will get the best care in the world.” The title of her husband meant nothing to me anymore. My eyes burned, and I raised my hand to strike her. Suddenly, Leo shoved his way between us, dousing me with a glass of red wine. “Ryan! You were going to hit her in front of all these people? You’re a disgrace to Ava!” I stood there, soaked and humiliated. Ava just watched, a cold observer, before pulling out a tissue to dab at the wine that had splashed onto Leo’s hand. “I’m calling the hospital right now to cut off her funding,” she said, her voice flat and final. “And remember, Ryan. You did this to her.” I ignored her, heading to the restroom to change into my spare suit. After saying my goodbyes to the Helios CEO, I left the summit. As I walked out, I could already hear people congratulating Ava, assuming she would, as always, secure the top partnership of the event. While waiting for my car, the Helios CEO couldn’t help but ask, “Mr. Evans, are you sure Ms. Vance won’t interfere with our new partnership?” She was worried I might still have a soft spot for my wife. I shook my head. “Once I make a decision, I don’t look back.” I opened the car door, taking one last look at the venue. Ava was standing near the entrance, phone to her ear, our eyes meeting across the distance. Suddenly, her face changed. She started running towards me, slamming her hand on the car door to keep me from closing it. Her phone was still on speaker. A panicked secretary’s voice spilled out. “Ms. Vance, you heard me right! Professor Miller has been transferred to a private hospital!” The secretary took a shaky breath. “And… the patent license she granted us has expired. It’s been reclaimed. We’ve been disqualified from the summit!” The words hit like a thunderclap. Ava’s face was a deathly white. She shoved the phone in my face. “Ryan, explain this. Now!” Leo ran up behind her, snatching the phone and frantically scrolling through the documents the secretary had sent. “Ryan, you can’t just take back something you gave away! Is this how your family raised you?” Ava’s eyes were bloodshot with rage. “If you sign a new contract right now, I’ll forget any of this ever happened.” She held out her tablet, displaying a new agreement. I glanced at it—the offer was still a paltry few million. It was laughable. “Sorry,” I said, my voice calm. “The patent has already been sold.” A stunned silence fell over the small crowd that had gathered. Ava’s venomous gaze shifted to the Helios CEO. “You sold it to her?” she shrieked at me. “Are you insane? Terminate the contract, Ryan! Right now!” I looked at her, the woman I once loved, and felt nothing but a cold void. “Why would I turn down $180 million just to sign with you?” “One hundred and eighty million?” Leo gasped. “She didn’t just buy the patent, did she? Ryan, what else did you sell to get that kind of money?” He eyed me up and down, the implication vile. The Helios CEO had finally had enough. She signaled for security. “Ms. Vance, control your employee. If you continue to slander me or my company, I will pursue legal action.” Her voice was like ice. “Furthermore, Professor Miller’s contract with Vance Industries had expired. Any subsequent transaction is perfectly legal and protected by law.” A dozen security guards moved to surround us. Ava shot me one last look, a complex storm of emotions in her eyes. “You’ll regret this, Ryan.” Leo opened his mouth to say more, but withered under the CEO’s glare and scurried after Ava. I offered the Helios CEO a small smile. “Thank you for that.” She smiled back, her voice all business. “Mr. Evans. I look forward to a very successful partnership.” At the end of the summit, Helios Corp, armed with my grandmother’s technology, secured the grand partnership, shattering Vance Industries’ long-held monopoly on the industry. Just then, my phone rang. It was the hospital. “Mr. Evans, your grandmother is awake.” I politely declined the Helios CEO’s invitation to the celebratory dinner and rushed to her side. Back at the summit, Ava stood frozen, her knuckles white as she gripped her phone. She had thought it was just a minor car accident, something she could easily smooth over with money and influence, as she always had. Leo was just an intern she was mentoring; she’d planned to settle privately to protect his promising career. In her world, Leo was a future asset for her company, while Ryan was just her dependent husband who should simply do as he was told. She never imagined he would not only call the police but also reclaim the patent that was the very lifeblood of her empire. She thought freezing his accounts and threatening his grandmother’s care would bring him to his knees. She had grossly underestimated his resolve. “Ryan is just angry, Ava. He’s just taking it out on you because he feels threatened by me. It’s for the good of the company,” Leo murmured, trying to take her hand with a fawning smile. Ava yanked her hand away, a flash of irritation in her eyes. Normally, she didn’t mind his affectionate gestures, but today, they repulsed her. The image of Ryan’s cold, distant eyes at the summit made her chest ache. It was Ryan who had blown this out of proportion, Ryan who had cost her the summit, yet she was the one who felt like a piece of her had been carved out. “Are we going home now, Ava?” Leo asked tentatively. Ava was silent for a moment, then bit her lip. “We’re going to the hospital.” She was clinging to a sliver of hope, telling herself this was all a bluff—the hospital transfer, the $180 million deal, all an elaborate charade orchestrated by Helios Corp. She believed that once she showed up in person, Ryan would fold, just like he always had, begging for her forgiveness. But when she arrived at the hospital, the cold reality hit her. Her grandmother was in a VIP suite with a dedicated team of nurses, her surgery already a success. Ava stood outside the room, watching through the glass as Ryan spoke softly to his grandmother, a knot tightening in her chest. “Ryan, you’re here?” Grandma’s voice was weak, but her eyes landed on Leo, and her pupils contracted. She recognized him. He was the one behind the wheel. Leo let out a soft, mocking laugh. “Professor Miller, do you have any idea what your dear grandson has done? This fancy room, these top doctors… he paid for it all by selling Vance Industries’ corporate secrets. He’ll do anything to get back at Ava, won’t he? He has no shame.” It was a line Leo had used before, and Ava had always dismissed it as youthful arrogance. But hearing it now, it sounded grating and cruel. Grandma pushed herself up, her face pale with fury as the heart monitor beside her bed began to beep erratically. “You’re lying! You hit me! And you have the nerve to stand here and spread lies?” Ava started to intervene, but a sharp CRACK echoed through the room. I had burst through the door and slapped Leo across the face. “Grandma just got out of surgery, and you dare come here to agitate her? What is wrong with you?” I grabbed him by the collar, my voice shaking with rage. “Instead of spewing your filth here, you should be thinking about what you’re going to say in court tomorrow. A judge won’t be so easily fooled by your pathetic act!”

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Seven years after our divorce, I saw Sean Hughes again during an assignment on the border. I was a war correspondent. He was one of the expatriates being evacuated. Seeing my face covered in grime, he instinctively reached out to wipe it clean. I turned away, avoiding his touch, and gave him a polite nod. Sean froze, slowly pulling his hand back. A self-mocking smile touched his lips. “Ava,” he said, “you still resent me, don’t you?” I was surprised by his assumption, but I kept my tone courteous. “Not at all, Mr. Hughes. You’re overthinking it.” My own horizon was too vast to be bothered with the narrow patch of sky he occupied. 1 The hot, humid air, thick with sand, stung my nostrils. I didn’t have time to clean up before boarding the plane, and a fit of coughing left me apologizing awkwardly to the other passengers. A moist towelette appeared in front of me. “Here, clean yourself up.” Sean was looking at me, his expression a complicated mix of emotions. “I upgraded your seat. It’ll be more comfortable up front.” I thanked him calmly. “Thank you, but there’s no need. My colleague is sitting with me.” He hesitated, his eyes flicking to Leo, my cameraman. “What… what are you doing now?” “I’m a journalist.” Sean’s mouth twisted into a sad smile. “You were the star reporter at Momentum News. You never had to get your hands dirty like this…” “I love my work,” I said, my voice gentle but firm. “The plane is about to take off, Mr. Hughes. You should return to your seat.” He suddenly seemed aware of how out of place he was, standing alone in the narrow aisle. He said nothing more, just gave a silent nod and walked away. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. Leo leaned in, his face alight with gossip. “Ava, new flame?” I raised an eyebrow. “You studied journalism and you don’t recognize him?” Seeing his blank look, I prompted him. “Sean Hughes.” Leo’s eyes went wide. “That’s Sean Hughes?!” “The whistleblower who exposed the Zenith Group’s dirty supply chain?” I smiled. “The one and only.” Before he made his fortune, Sean became an overnight sensation for exposing corruption in his industry. Everyone thought he’d be blacklisted, but he rode the wave of publicity, started his own company, and was now a leader in the field. “I remember that story! It was huge! The reporter who covered it became famous overnight, too. Her name was… Diana something?” He scratched his head. “Wait, Momentum News broke that story, and you used to work there. No wonder he knows you. Did you interview him back then?” I folded the towel the flight attendant had given me. “Of course,” I said with a small smile. “I was in charge of his story.” “That’s how we met. It wasn’t long before we got married.” Leo’s jaw dropped. “Then… what about now?” “We’ve been divorced for many years,” I said, my tone breezy and unconcerned. The announcement for takeoff began, and after a moment of weightlessness, the plane broke through the clouds. I rubbed my ears, which were popping from the pressure change. “But… wait a minute,” Leo said after a long silence. “I remember the byline on that story. The reporter’s last name was Zhou.” “Diana Zhou,” I said, the name feeling foreign on my tongue. “She was my mentor at Momentum.” 2 Most young journalists are full of fire. We worship the seasoned veterans—the ones with razor-sharp prose who can cut to the heart of any story. At Momentum News, Diana Zhou was the sharpest of them all. She lived up to her name, a force of nature. She had a sleek, short haircut and wore simple, understated clothes, with no trace of makeup or vanity. I used to call her my master, but she’d scoff and tell me she wasn’t some kung fu grandmaster, and to just call her by her name, or mentor. “Diana,” I’d said to her once, my voice hesitant. “That whistleblower… the one who exposed the dirty supply chain… he’s trying to start his own business now.” “Mm,” she’d replied without looking up from her desk. “Your initial report was excellent. I’ve edited it for publication tomorrow.” “Could we—could we maybe give him a few follow-up interviews?” I asked quietly. I expected an outburst, but instead, Diana looked up from her mountain of paperwork, her brow furrowed. “Why?” “He’s… he’s been blacklisted by the entire industry. I just think… he could use the publicity. Even a little bit.” I took a deep breath. “I know we’ve already gotten the core story, but… as journalists, we shouldn’t just stand by while a good man who did the right thing is ruined.” “I want to help him.” After some persuading, Diana finally agreed. As I celebrated my small victory, she sighed. “Fine. You can handle the follow-up interviews. I’ll publish the main story under my byline.” I thanked her profusely, not caring in the slightest about who got the credit. At the time, Sean and I weren’t together. I was helping him purely out of a journalist’s sense of justice. But over the course of those follow-up interviews, we were drawn to each other, and a relationship blossomed naturally. Sean’s story exploded. Everyone was talking about it. The initial hype wasn’t about him personally, but my subsequent interviews managed to keep a spotlight on him. It wasn’t enough to save him from the industry’s backlash, though. He worked day and night, desperate to build something new from the ashes. The winters in Brookhaven were brutal. I ached for him, working so hard, and he worried about me, chasing stories in the freezing cold. We’d often rush from our respective offices late at night, only to bump into each other halfway. He’d pull a warm paper bag of roasted chestnuts from his coat, and I’d hand him a steaming cup of coffee. We’d smile, then walk back to our small apartment through the gently falling snow, our footsteps muffled and slow. Later, when his business took off and he became the new titan of his industry, every news outlet clamored for an interview. He always gave Momentum News the exclusive. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have now arrived in Brookhaven. Please collect all your personal belongings…” I snapped out of my long-lost dream and looked out the window at the familiar city below. Leo volunteered to get our luggage. I waited for him by the arrival gate, already mentally outlining my next news report. “Ava Lin?” A familiar voice pulled me back to reality. I looked up. “Diana,” I said, a sense of understanding dawning on me. “You’re here to pick up Sean.” She smiled brightly. “It’s late. I came to take him home.” Looking at her, I felt a strange sense of detachment. Diana had grown her hair long, each strand falling in a perfect, glossy wave. Her bright red lipstick and pale green dress made her look delicate and captivating. Sean emerged before Leo did. “I just bought some flowers at the airport shop to take home,” he said, then his eyes met mine. “Ava… you haven’t left yet.” Diana linked her arm through his affectionately. “We were just chatting. Darling, look. Don’t you think Ava’s changed so much?” “…She has,” he said, his voice strained. “Her hair’s so short, and her clothes are so…” Diana giggled. “See? This is why we were mentor and mentee. She looks exactly like I did back in the day!” “Diana,” I said calmly. “You, on the other hand, haven’t changed a bit.” Her smile faltered for a second, then returned, tinged with a sigh. “Ava, you’re still holding a grudge against us.” “Not at all,” I said, smiling back. “It’s just… the thought of being exactly like you makes me sick.” I glanced over at Leo, who was standing nearby, his mouth agape, and nodded. “Let’s go.” 3 The station’s car was parked some distance away. Leo and I, laden with equipment, started walking. Halfway there, a Bentley pulled up beside us. Diana leaned out from the passenger seat. “Come on, Ava. We’ll give you a lift.” I was about to refuse, but seeing Leo struggling under the weight of the bags, I nodded. “Thank you. Just drop us at the next intersection.” The car was filled with the scent of citrus. I wrinkled my nose instinctively. Diana turned around, her face a mask of apology. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I just put on some perfume. I forgot you hate this scent, don’t you?” Before I could answer, all the windows rolled down. “Let’s get some air in here,” Sean said, his voice flat. Diana’s smile froze. Her eyes scanned our equipment. “Ava,” she asked casually, “Sean tells me you’re still working as a journalist?” She let out a small laugh. “The small-time papers out there aren’t like Momentum, you know. You have to hustle for every story, beg for every interview.” She pouted, her tone chiding. “Look at you. You should take better care of yourself. You’re over thirty, and you look so weathered.” Leo opened his mouth to protest, but a look from me silenced him. “We have an opening in our PR department,” Sean said suddenly. Diana’s face lit up. “That’s right! Someone just quit. Ava, you might be a little old to be starting over, but I’m the head of the department. I could save an internship spot for you. What do you think?” “No, thank you,” I said, rubbing my tired temples. “I wouldn’t want to take a job from someone younger. I’m quite happy where I am.” Diana just chuckled and didn’t press the issue. “We’re here,” Sean said quietly. He wouldn’t meet my eyes. “If you ever need any help, you can come to us.” “Okay, thank you,” I said, treating it as a polite, empty offer. But as we got out, Diana jumped out of the car and grabbed my arm. “Ava, I know you blame us, but what’s past is past. Don’t be so proud. Look at what you’ve done to yourself, how you’ve let yourself go.” “Let herself go? Ava is—” Leo finally burst out, but I shot him a look that stopped him cold. I looked calmly at Diana. “Diana,” I said, “I remember your old dream. You wanted to be a war correspondent, didn’t you?”

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The lab was exploding, and my childhood sweetheart was begging me to save him. Suddenly, a barrage of bullet comments floated across the sky: [The male lead has been reborn! This explosion wasn’t an accident; he set it up on purpose. Anyway, the female supporting character is such a simp, she’ll definitely rush in to save him like in her past life.] [The male lead is so smart. After the fire started, he even poured some gasoline on it. Only by burning the supporting character to death can he avoid marrying her disfigured face out of gratitude like last time. He made the heroine be his mistress for eight years for nothing!] [Good thing the male lead loves the heroine. After using the supporting character’s dowry to build his empire, he suffocated her with a pillow so he could marry our heroine.] [I remember the heroine is the supporting character’s stepsister, right? She’s already pregnant with the male lead’s child? Tsk tsk, forbidden love between brother-in-law and sister-in-law, so spicy!] [Supporting character, hurry in and save the male lead! We can’t wait to see the sweet romance between the leads!] Save him? I pretended to be frightened, retreated to a safe distance, and then gracefully fainted. My boyfriend’s voice grew weaker. I couldn’t help but smile. “Jason, in this life, I’m going to destroy you!” 1 Flames licked the glass windows of the laboratory, twisting my shadow into grotesque shapes. Jason’s hoarse cries for help rang in my ears. “Sarah! Save me!” But he was clearly certain I would rush in, his tone devoid of panic. I didn’t make a sound, standing still. In my past life, I rushed into the fire and dragged him out, leaving half my face permanently scarred like a centipede. He held me and cried, saying he would be responsible for me for the rest of his life. But then he turned around and complained that I was an embarrassment to take out. He forced me to hand over all the gold bars and property deeds my grandfather left me, claiming it was compensation for the grievance he suffered due to my disfigurement. Bullet comments exploded in my vision again: [Hurry up, the heroine is still waiting outside. Just waiting for the fire to get bigger so she can ‘save’ the supporting character’s corpse. Then she can play the loving sister and trick the grandfather into leaving the inheritance to her!] [Why isn’t she moving? If something happens to the male lead, won’t she die of regret?] In the smoke, Jason coughed incessantly. Seeing no reaction from me for a long time, he finally panicked. “Sarah, I saw you! Why aren’t you coming in to save me!” “My… my leg is pinned, I can’t run! Don’t worry, the fire isn’t big yet, you’ll be fine. Once we’re out, I promise to marry you!” I stared at the anxious face in the sea of fire, suddenly recalling how he suffocated me with a pillow in my past life, his face twisted as he blamed me: “If you hadn’t pestered me and used saving my life to blackmail me, why would I marry an ugly monster like you? You ruined my love with Chloe, you deserve to die!” I curled my lips, my laughter drowned out by the crackling fire. Since Chloe is so great, let her save Jason. I took a sharp step back, ensuring the distance was safe. Then, I let myself fall backward. As I faked fainting, I faintly heard Jason’s screams. Getting weaker… [What’s wrong with the supporting character? Why did she faint? If she doesn’t save him, what about the male lead?] [It’s over, it’s over, the male lead poured gasoline this time! Where’s the heroine? Come save him!] A second before my eyelids closed, I heard the sirens of fire trucks approaching. I covered my nose and mouth, the corners of my lips rising uncontrollably. Jason. Let the games begin. 2 When I opened my eyes again, I was lying in a VIP hospital room. I subconsciously touched my cheek. Smooth and perfect as always. The smell of disinfectant was mixed with a familiar, cloyingly sweet citrus perfume. Just like Chloe herself. She was sitting by the bed peeling an apple. Seeing me wake up, her eyes immediately reddened. “Sis, you scared me to death! Jason is still in emergency surgery. The doctor said… his face might be ruined.” The bullet comments were furious: [It’s all Sarah’s fault! If she hadn’t fainted at the critical moment, how would the male lead be hurt so badly? She must take full responsibility!] [Heroine, hurry up and gaslight her! Make her pay for his treatment. She owes you guys anyway!] I ignored these NPC comments, tugged at the IV tube, and looked indifferent. “Is that so? That’s a pity. He cared about that face the most.” Chloe’s knife paused. “Sis, how can you say that? Jason went to the lab to keep you company…” I laughed out loud. “Keep me company? Yesterday he specifically told me he wanted the lab to himself today and told me not to come.” “Then he messaged me ten minutes before the explosion, urging me to go over. Ten minutes, exactly the time it takes to walk from my dorm to the lab.” Chloe’s face paled, her hand holding the knife trembling uncontrollably. A nurse walked in just then. I raised an eyebrow and deliberately asked the nurse: “Nurse, do we have the results of the explosion investigation? I thought I saw a shadow and smelled gasoline.” The nurse paused. “Gasoline? Not sure, but the fire department said there were signs of secondary ignition, like an accelerant was used.” “The police will probably come to question you later. You can tell them.” Clang. The fruit knife dropped to the floor. Chloe gripped the apple, head lowered, expression hidden. The nurse thought she was scared, picked up the knife, and comforted her. But she quickly stood up and grabbed her phone from the table. It rang suddenly, but she didn’t answer. Instead, she made an excuse to leave. I closed my eyes, sneering internally. I saw the caller ID. It was Jason. He’s quite capable, waking up so fast. Well, as his “girlfriend,” I have to go visit him. 3 The doctor checked me over. Confirming I was fine, I could be discharged after the IV finished. When I went to see Jason, his face was wrapped in thick gauze. Seeing me enter, he struggled to sit up, voice choking: “Sarah, I’m so glad you’re okay… I thought I’d never see you again.” “Why did you… suddenly faint?” He seemed suspicious. I took two steps back and sighed: “The fire was too big, the heat suffocated me. Otherwise, I would have definitely saved you.” “By the way, Jason, even if an experiment went wrong, the fire shouldn’t have been that big, right? Did you use some special materials?” Jason’s expression shifted, seemingly annoyed that he poured a bucket of gasoline and burned himself. The bullet comments cared more about his health than he did, filling the screen with demands for money. [The supporting character is shameless, just bringing a fruit basket? Hurry up and pay for his treatment!] [Yeah, I remember she has 30% of the shares, worth about a billion. She should give it all to him as an apology!] Jason reached out, clutching the hem of my shirt. “Don’t worry about the medical bills… I can…” He coughed violently, covering his mouth with a tissue. “I’m just short on the surgery fee, I don’t want you to…” I stifled a laugh, placing the fruit basket on the nightstand. Funny. Even as the “male lead,” he still has to beg me, the “vicious supporting character,” for money. “I asked the doctor. Your follow-up treatment will cost a lot. I contacted Grandpa, but he said my trust fund can’t be touched until I get married.” Jason stiffened, the corner of his mouth twitching under the gauze. “What do you mean?” I shrugged innocently. “Exactly what I said. I have no money right now. You’ll have to figure it out yourself.” In my past life, lying in the hospital bed, before I could say anything… He started complaining about being tight on money and told me to figure out the medical bills myself. I was just returning his words to him, verbatim. He clearly realized this, his eyes under the gauze full of scrutiny. Just as we were at a stalemate, the door opened. A man in a black suit walked in, followed by a lawyer. Tall, sharp-eyed. He nodded slightly upon seeing me: “Miss Shen, I am Ethan He, your grandfather’s legal counsel. He heard about your accident and asked me to check on you.” I paused, seeing the comments pop up: [Who is this guy? Looks tough.] [Is he here to help the supporting character? What about our leads!] Oh~ so these self-proclaimed omniscient NPCs don’t know everything. I remembered Ethan. A ruthless figure in the legal world, managing billions in overseas assets for my grandfather at a young age. In my past life, after I was disfigured, he visited once. Frowned and said Jason wasn’t good enough for me. Never saw him again. Jason recognized him too, his tone instantly polite. “Mr. He, sorry to trouble you.” Ethan ignored him, walking straight to me. “Miss Shen, do you need me to handle the follow-up? Including the liability assessment for the lab.” Seeing the flash of inquiry in his eyes, I looked him over. Black eyes deep as a cold pool, pale skin making him look noble and sharp. Much easier on the eyes than the mummy-faced Jason. I suddenly had a great idea. 4 After leaving the hospital, I met Ethan at a nearby cafe. Stirring my coffee, I spoke first. “Mr. He, I want to propose a partnership.” Ethan looked up, a hint of interest in his eyes. “Please, go ahead.” I looked him in the eye and said clearly: “Jason doesn’t deserve me.” “But it’s inconvenient for me to act right now. So I want to hire you to help me deal with Jason… and my stepsister, Chloe.” “Of course, I won’t ask for free help. The Shen family has a plot of land in the West City, good location. If you help me make them pay, I’ll transfer it to you at cost.” Ethan put down his spoon, leaning forward slightly, tone playful. “Is Miss Shen using me as a tool for revenge?” I smirked. “Don’t put it like that. It’s a win-win. You get the land and make a profit. I get revenge and peace of mind.” He was silent for a few seconds, then laughed: “Miss Shen is quite the calculator. But I’m not interested in that land.” “Then what do you want?” Ethan’s gaze landed on my face, deep eyes pulling me in. “What I want, perhaps, is a favor from you, Miss Shen.” My heart skipped a beat, but I kept my face calm. “A favor is an intangible thing. Doesn’t Mr. He feel he’s losing out?” Slender fingers tapped the table lightly as Ethan spoke slowly: “In my opinion, a favor from Miss Shen is worth much more than a plot of land.” Ethan He was dangerous. But having died once, Sarah Shen feared no danger. I raised an eyebrow and extended my hand with a smile. “Then, here’s to a happy partnership.”

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1 After seven secret years, I was pregnant with the Will family heir. But Graham still hadn’t married me—because I was the city’s shame: an illegitimate daughter. For me, he’d defied his family, surrendered 40% of his controlling stake, and taken a reckless wager: to earn the company ten billion dollars before our child was born. The impossible deal shocked everyone. They all believed his love was absolute. At six months, I went to his office with my ultrasound. Outside, I saw him hand a major client to his biggest rival. His friend Leo confronted him. “Nora’s due soon, and you’re giving away a billion-dollar deal? You’ll lose the wager—you’ll never marry her!” After a silence, Graham’s voice cut clear. “Win or lose, I’m still the Will heir. What’s there to fear? She’ll stay by my side. Who would dare speak against her?” His tone hardened. “But Rosalind was there for me during Nora’s three years abroad. She nearly died for me. The only reason she survives the Vance family viper’s nest is the marriage contract I gave her.” “If I actually win this wager… what happens to Rosalind?” Rosalind Vance. My half-sister. The deepest shadow of my life. I stared at the ultrasound, the words “perfectly healthy” blurring. After a moment, I raised my hand and knocked. … Leo Grant, Graham’s best friend, saw me and immediately broke into a warm smile. “Nora! You’re here! Come on in, sit down. How was the check-up?” “Graham, I’m serious, man,” he said, turning to my fiancé. “Nora’s getting bigger by the day, and you know every eye in the city is on you two. You need to hurry up! I heard that Caden Hayes has been asking around about Nora lately.” Leo shot Graham a meaningful look. “You’ve gotta feel the heat, man. Pay attention, you hear me?” I could tell Leo was trying to nudge Graham, to remind him what was at stake. In this treacherous world of ours, there weren’t many people who genuinely wished me well. He was one of them. I held my breath, waiting for Graham’s reaction. “Is that so?” Those three words, delivered so lightly, were like a bucket of ice water dumped over my head. That’s it? Seven years ago, or even just before I went abroad, the mere mention of another man near me would have sent him into a jealous fit. I’ll never forget the time he’d jumped in front of me to fend off a group of thugs. He’d gotten bruised and cut, but he’d still looked at me with that stubborn intensity and said, “Nora Lane, the only man who stands by your side is me.” It wasn’t until much later that I learned those thugs never bothered me again because Caden Hayes had quietly dealt with them. But at that moment, Graham had been the only light in my gray world. Three years abroad, and everything had changed. The name ‘Rosalind,’ spoken so easily from his lips, felt like a slap across my face, shattering every fantasy I’d ever held. Leo noticed the change in my expression and quickly tried to smooth things over. “Nora, how were the results?” “Everything’s fine.” I handed the report to Graham, adding an explanation. “Caden and I are old friends. He looked out for me a lot when I was overseas.” Graham just waved it off. “I know. My Nora only has room in her heart for me. What’s a Caden Hayes to worry about?” I forced a smile, unable to hide the bitterness. In our relationship, Graham had always been supremely confident. I looked at him, finally asking the question that had been swirling in my mind for weeks. “How is the project coming along?” “The baby is already six months.” Graham rubbed his temples, a perfectly measured look of apology on his face. “Nora, I’m sorry. This time… I might have to disappoint you again.” “I’ll try harder next time, okay?” He reached for my hand, but I shifted slightly, and his fingers brushed against empty air. If I hadn’t overheard, who would have guessed that this project, already in the bag, was one he had deliberately let slip away? How many “next times” had there been in these seven years? It wasn’t the first time he’d had to fight for us. He’d won the bid for a fiercely contested piece of land on the east side just so the family would allow him to fly overseas to see me for a single day. He’d secured a major international subsidiary just to get their nod of approval for us to officially date. Every step forward was treated like a gift from the gods. Each one required a monumental effort from him and my boundless gratitude. Yet, between him and Rosalind, these insurmountable obstacles seemed to never exist. Their engagement was public knowledge, a smooth and celebrated affair. The year I first went abroad, I had secretly rejoiced, thinking the “Vance daughter” everyone was talking about was me. Was it all wrong simply because I was an illegitimate child, a secret not meant for the light of day? “If this project fails, I’ll likely lose the shares I currently hold in the company.” His eyes held a pleading look, a strategic retreat. “Nora, if I have nothing left, you won’t leave me, will you?” There he was again, using my guilt and my sympathy to chain me to him. “No,” I heard myself say, my voice flat. Graham breathed a sigh of relief, his tone firming up again. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep fighting the family for the next opportunity.” His gaze fell to my stomach. “It just means you’ll have to go through this alone for a little while. You’ll have to deliver our baby first.” I lowered my eyes, hiding the storm of emotions inside me. Just like countless times before, I obediently agreed. “Okay. I know. I don’t mind.” I was never the type to press for answers or make a scene. Just then, my phone rang. It was my father. “Come home for dinner tonight. It’s your sister Rosalind’s birthday. The whole family will be here. You have to come.” After hanging up, I told Graham I had to go. I couldn’t stand to be in that room a moment longer. But for some reason, I didn’t leave immediately. From inside the office, I heard Graham’s voice again. “Have that pink diamond from the auction house prepared. Make sure it’s wrapped beautifully and send it over to the Vances.” Leo exploded. “Are you fucking serious? You’re really going through with marrying Rosalind Vance? A pink diamond? What about Nora and the baby? You know those two sisters are like fire and ice!” “If Nora can’t handle it and runs off, let’s see how much you regret it then!” My heart stopped. Then came Graham’s voice, cold and sharp enough to cut through bone. “Once the baby is born, she’ll be tied to me. With that connection, even with Rosalind in the picture, Nora will never leave.” “Besides, it’s a sham marriage. What does it matter? Nora isn’t the type to make a fuss.” I leaned against the wall, slowly pulling myself upright. A faint, sharp pain twisted in my abdomen, making it hard to breathe. I placed a hand over the warmth of my belly. And then, a single, crystal-clear thought cut through all my carefully constructed nonchalance. This baby… I couldn’t keep it. My steps were unsteady as I arrived at the Vance family home. “Nora, you’re here! Oh, let me see, has the baby been behaving?” Rosalind greeted me with a cloying sweetness, her hand reaching for my stomach. Her circle of socialite friends immediately swarmed around us like a flock of chattering birds. “Oh, Rosalind, this baby will definitely be closest to you! It’ll probably say ‘mama’ to you first!” “Exactly! Graham even gave Rosalind the marriage contract. She’s the official Mrs. Will. Who else would the baby be close to?” Their words confirmed everything I had overheard. There really was a marriage contract. Then, another voice dropped a bombshell. “And did you hear? I think Rosalind saved Graham’s life once! It’s such a shame her health is so poor. The doctors say it’ll be very difficult for her to have children of her own. So tragic.” “Wait… could it be that this Nora girl, brought back from the countryside and getting pregnant out of wedlock… was just meant to be a surrogate for Rosalind?” That one sentence opened the floodgates of all my doubts. So, this child in my belly… what was it to them? A gift prepared for Rosalind? An icy chill shot through my body, and I felt frozen to the spot. Just then, Graham arrived. His assistant followed, carrying a gift box containing a pink diamond the size of a small fist. Gasps of awe filled the room. Graham’s voice was calm. “Happy birthday, Rosalind.” What a gift. I looked down at the delicate necklace I was wearing. It also had a pink diamond pendant, but it was no bigger than a grain of rice. It was an anniversary gift from him a few weeks ago. It suits you perfectly, he had said. So, in his heart, only Rosalind was worthy of a priceless treasure. One of the girls beside Rosalind laughed openly. “That’s a nice little thing around Nora’s neck, but the size…” “Well, it’s not surprising. Given her background, an illegitimate girl is lucky to wear a diamond at all.” Illegitimate. Again. If it hadn’t been for Rosalind’s mother, crashing my own mother’s wedding with a baby in her arms, my mother never would have suffered the shock that led to her dying in childbirth. I never would have been born without a mother. For seventeen years, I was the “wild child” living with my grandmother, never once experiencing the warmth or privilege of the Vance family. How dare they mock me with my own scars? Graham noticed my pale face and came over, pulling a translucent green jade bracelet from his pocket. “It was my grandmother’s. For good luck and protection.” He lowered his voice. “Don’t listen to them. There’s nothing between Rosalind and me. I only see her as a sister.” A sister? Right. I was too exhausted to even question him. I pulled my hand away. “I’m a little tired. I’m going upstairs to rest.” My room opened onto a garden, and I could hear Leo and a few of Graham’s other friends confronting Rosalind below. “Rosalind, don’t you get it? Graham’s feelings for you are just a mix of pity and using your family’s connections.” “Everyone in the city knows who he really loves! It’s Nora!” “Are you that desperate? Nora, your sister, is about to give birth! Have some decency!” The argument grew heated. Suddenly, Graham’s voice cut through, fiercely defending Rosalind. “That’s enough! Who said no one wants Rosalind?” In that instant, any shred of hope I had left crumbled to dust. My vision blurred with tears as I instinctively unlocked my phone. “Hello, Doctor? I need to schedule a procedure.” I was so thin that even after the procedure, no one could tell I’d lost the baby. When I stumbled out of the recovery room, I ran right into Caden Hayes. He didn’t seem to notice anything was different. “Nora?” He walked over. “What are you doing here? You look terrible.” I managed a weak smile and, without a second of hesitation, told him the truth. “An abortion.” Caden’s pupils contracted, a flash of fury crossing his face before he suppressed it. “You fool. I told you Graham Will was no good.” I smiled faintly. “You knew about him and Rosalind, didn’t you?” Caden looked away, flustered. “I heard whispers, back when you were overseas. But I didn’t think you would have believed me even if I told you.” He was right. Back then, blinded by seven years of love, I would have automatically blocked out anything negative about Graham. “Nora, I won’t tell anyone about this,” Caden said as I was leaving. He grabbed my arm. “What I asked you seven years ago… are you willing to reconsider?” For a moment, the man standing before me wasn’t the flashy, spoiled heir I knew. He was the sun-drenched boy from our small town who would ride his bike for ten miles in the summer heat just to buy me a milk tea. But I didn’t answer. Right now, I didn’t feel I had the right. That night, I didn’t go back to the apartment I shared with Graham. I went to the Vance house instead. As I passed the study, I overheard Rosalind and her mother plotting. “We have to strike before that baby is born! We can’t let her use the child to gain power, just like we dealt with her short-lived mother…” “Rosalind, you can’t hesitate any longer!” I froze outside the door, my limbs weak. I was powerless against them, especially now that Rosalind held a position in the family company. My only comfort was that Graham was leaving on a business trip soon. I could recover in peace at our apartment. Three months later, Graham returned. His eyes instinctively went to my stomach, which should have been round and full. “You look like you’ve lost weight. Not eating well?” I quietly agreed. He didn’t press the issue, instead pushing several expensive gift boxes toward me. I had no interest in opening them. They would be the usual jewels and limited-edition handbags—opulent but thoughtless. He had never once tried to understand what I truly wanted. “Thank you. They’re beautiful.” Graham sat down, his voice serious. “Nora, there’s something you need to know.” “The Vance family is a threat to the baby now, and so is my own family. This is the first Will grandchild, after all.” “I’ve arranged a villa for you overseas. You can go there and wait for the birth in peace. Once the baby is born safely, I’ll bring you back.” I listened silently, my heart numb. It was as if he were confirming my darkest fears. Then, he delivered the final blow. “There’s one other thing. The company is putting a lot of pressure on me regarding Rosalind.” “She needs the title of ‘Mrs. Will’ to secure her position on the board. So, I agreed… we’ll have a wedding soon.” He quickly added, his voice urgent, “It’s just an act! It’s for show. We won’t file any legal papers.” “Once this all blows over, I’ll give you everything you deserve.” “Nora, you understand, don’t you? It’s just a strategic move.” I looked up, trying to find a trace of love in his eyes. All I saw was my own reflection, as if I were the only person in his world. But why did the words from someone who claimed to love me cut so deep? “Okay. I’ll do whatever you say.” My consent clearly relieved him. “Nora, I knew you’d understand! We’re going to be the happiest family of three!” That night, while Graham was in the shower, I lay in bed and composed a text. [Caden, about your offer… I’ve thought about it. Let’s meet and talk.] The next morning, I woke to a heavy sense of pressure. I opened my eyes to see Graham standing over me, holding my phone. The screen was on, displaying my text exchange with Caden. I didn’t know how much he’d seen. I had never contacted Caden before, so that one message was it. I didn’t know what he might have replied. I had fallen asleep right after sending it, never imagining Graham would decide to check my phone. His face was a thundercloud. “Nora, when did you start talking to Caden Hayes?” “And what are these pills? Why were you at the OB-GYN clinic?”

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My husband has a bizarre fetish. Role-playing. And in his twisted scripts, I’m always cast as the devoted wife he casts aside. Today, he’s the ruthless tycoon who falls for the nanny. Tomorrow, he’s the brilliant professor infatuated with his student. Each time, he makes me sign a divorce agreement, only to tear it up with a laugh the next day. “Darling,” he’d say, “it’s just a game.” That is, until my mother was in a car accident and needed $50,000 for emergency surgery. On that day, he was role-playing a bankrupt loser. “I’m broke, darling, completely penniless. Where would I get the money to save your mother?” I watched my mother take her last breath. On the day of her funeral, he showed up with a beautiful young college student on his arm. “Honey, I’ve fallen in love with my student. Let’s get a divorce.” Frank pulled a document from his briefcase and handed it to me. This time, I didn’t wait for him to tear it up. 1 A fresh divorce agreement. His signature was already on it. The game again. He was starting the game again, right here, at my mother’s wake, just after I’d lost the only family I had left. I stared at him, at that handsome face I once adored. For the past three years, every time he produced one of these agreements, I would play my part. I’d cry, I’d scream, I’d demand to know why. And then he’d laugh, rip up the paper, and pull me into his arms, cooing that it was all just for fun. He called it spicing things up, a way to keep the magic alive. And I believed him. But now, my mother was lying in a coffin just a few feet away. Before she died, she had gripped my hand, her eyes fixed on the door, waiting. She was waiting for the son-in-law she’d always treated as her own to come and see her one last time. He never came. I knelt before her coffin and pressed my forehead to the cold floor in a final, silent goodbye. Then I stood, and took the pen from Frank’s hand. There were no tears. No hysterics. As he watched, I wrote my name, each stroke deliberate and firm. “There. It’s done.” Frank froze. The breakdown, the screaming fit he was expecting, never came. The woman standing before him was unnervingly calm. “Clara, what kind of trick is this?” he frowned, a flicker of annoyance in his eyes. The student, Mia, sensed something was wrong too. Her hand tightened on his arm. “Professor Vance… do you think she’s just in shock?” I ignored them. I picked up the second signed copy of the agreement, folded it neatly, and placed it in my purse. “Frank,” I said, looking him straight in the eye, my voice even and clear. “The game is over.” 2 The next morning, I went to the courthouse. I filed the petition for divorce, along with the legally signed agreement. The clerk glanced from the document to my face, then processed the paperwork with bureaucratic indifference. I pulled out my phone. The screen was flooded with missed calls and texts from Frank. “Clara, have you had your little tantrum yet? Get home now!” “I’ve torn up the agreement. We can pretend this never happened.” “How dare you hang up on me? Who do you think you are?” The last one had arrived half an hour ago: “If you’re not back by tonight, don’t ever bother coming back at all!” I blocked his number. I rented a small apartment, and after a bit of cleaning, I started my job search. After Frank and I got married, he’d convinced me to quit my job to be a full-time housewife, a willing participant in his endless, tedious role-playing games. He said he loved me, loved me to his very core, and that’s why he wanted to experience the thrill of falling in love with me over and over again in different scenarios. He insisted the cruel, heartless men who cast their wives aside in his games weren’t the real him. It was just acting. How ridiculous that sounds now. Maybe he was never acting at all. Maybe those cold, selfish, cruel masks were his true face. The court summons reached Frank quickly. I was in the middle of a job interview when his call came through. “Clara! Are you out of your goddamn mind? You actually took me to court?” I calmly walked to the end of the hallway. “Frank, we both signed the divorce agreement. The legal filing is just a formality to speed things up.” “Formality? Let me tell you something, this divorce is not happening!” “Frank, my mother is dead,” I said, cutting him off. There was a brief silence on the other end. “I know,” he said, his voice turning cold. “But that was her fate. You can’t take your anger out on me. A game is a game, and reality is reality. Can’t you even tell the difference?” “You’re the one who can’t tell the difference anymore.” I hung up and went back to my interview. It was for a clerical position at a small firm. The pay wasn’t great, but it was enough to support myself. The interview went well, and they told me I could start on Monday. That evening, when I returned to my apartment, I found two people waiting at my door. Frank and Mia. Frank’s face was a thundercloud. Mia just looked smug, as if she were here to watch a show. “Well, Clara. You’ve certainly grown a spine. Daring to play games with me for real?” Frank stepped forward, blocking my path. “There are no more games to be played between us, real or fake,” I said, trying to step around him to unlock my door. He grabbed my wrist, his grip like steel. “Come home. Come back with me, and I can forget any of this ever happened.” “Let go of me,” my voice was ice. “Clara, don’t push your luck!” Mia fanned the flames from the side. “Professor, she’s just doing this for attention. It’s a classic move. Don’t fall for it.” Frank started to drag me away. “Frank, if you don’t let go right now, I’m going to scream.” “Go ahead! Scream! Let’s see who dares to get involved in a husband and wife’s private business!” he roared. A few neighbors peeked out of their doors at the commotion, but seeing Frank’s furious expression, they quickly retreated. I lifted my free hand and, with all the strength I could muster, I slapped him across the face. The sharp crack echoed in the hallway. Everyone froze. Including Frank. He touched his cheek, his eyes wide with disbelief. “You… you hit me?” 3 A furious fire ignited in Frank’s eyes. He raised his hand as if to strike back, but at the last second, he stopped himself. He stared at me, his gaze so intense it felt like he wanted to devour me whole. “Clara. You’ve got guts. Real guts.” He released my arm, forcing the words through gritted teeth. “You will regret this.” With that, he grabbed Mia’s hand and stormed away. Watching them disappear down the stairs, I finally noticed my hands were shaking. Not from fear, but from rage. I went inside the empty apartment and shut the door, sliding down against it until I was sitting on the floor. There was no trace of Frank here, yet I still felt like I was suffocating. His so-called games had left a deeper scar on me than I had ever realized. The next afternoon, I got a call from the bank. Our joint account had been frozen. It held all our savings—though, of course, most of it was money Frank had earned. I had expected this, so I wasn’t panicked. I still had a little money my mother had left me. If I was careful, it would be enough to last until my first paycheck. On Wednesday, while I was still getting the hang of my new job, a gaudily dressed woman burst into the office and pointed a finger right at my face. “Clara Vance! You shameless homewrecker! How dare you seduce my husband!” I stared at her, completely stunned, as every one of my new colleagues turned to gawk. “Ma’am, I think you must have the wrong person,” my supervisor said, stepping forward. “No, it’s her!” The woman brandished a photograph. It was a picture of me with a man. He was an old friend from college I hadn’t seen or spoken to in years. I had no idea where she got it. “Everyone, look! This is the woman who destroyed my family! My husband is divorcing me because of her!” she shrieked, collapsing into a heap on the floor, wailing and tearing at her hair. The office descended into chaos. I was trapped, unable to defend myself against the baseless accusations. I knew, with a sickening certainty, that this was Frank’s handiwork. He was trying to ruin my reputation, to leave me with nowhere to turn. My supervisor called me into her office. Her face was grim. “Clara, while I want to believe you, the company has to consider its image… Why don’t you take a few days off to sort things out.” It was their polite way of firing me. My phone rang. It was Frank. “How does it feel?” he asked, a smug smile in his voice. “I told you you’d regret this, Clara.” “You’re a despicable bastard, Frank.” “Despicable? I learned from the best,” he chuckled. “I’m giving you one last chance. Come back, beg me, and I might consider forgiving you.” “In your dreams.” I hung up. I would not beg him. Never. I walked in the rain for what felt like hours, until I was soaked to the bone. When I finally made it back to my apartment building, a cloying cloud of perfume assaulted me in the hallway. Mia was standing at my door, leaning against the frame as if she owned the place, a contemptuous smirk on her face. “What do you want?” I asked coldly. “Just came to see you,” she purred. “To see just how miserable you are now that the professor has thrown you away.” Her eyes raked over my drenched, pathetic state, and she laughed. “Tsk, tsk. So pitiful. You lost your job too, didn’t you? The professor said he’s going to make it impossible for you to survive in this city. He said you’ll come crawling back to him on your knees.” “He can wait forever.” I pushed past her and unlocked my door. “Still acting tough, are we?” Mia followed me inside. She walked over to the small table where I’d placed my mother’s portrait and picked it up. “You know, if your mother knew what a stubborn little fool you’re being, do you think she’d jump right out of her coffin?” “Take your hands off that,” my voice trembled. “What? Getting angry?” Mia tossed the frame lightly in her hand. “Oops. What if I… accidentally… dropped it?” “I said take your hands off it!” I lunged at her, trying to snatch the picture back. Mia let out a little shriek and deliberately let go. The frame hit the floor, and the glass shattered into a thousand pieces. My mother’s smiling face, fractured by a spiderweb of cracks. Something inside me snapped. 4 I don’t know where the strength came from. I grabbed Mia by the hair and slammed her to the ground. She screamed, clawing at me, her nails digging bloody tracks into my arms. I didn’t feel a thing. All I knew was that she had crossed a line. She had desecrated the memory of my mother. I was like a wild animal, ripping at her hair, slapping her face over and over. “I told you not to touch it! I told you!” Mia was dazed, her protests turning into terrified sobs. “You’re crazy! You’re a psycho! Frank! Help me!” The door was suddenly thrown open with a crash. Frank stormed in. His face turned white when he saw the scene. “Clara! Stop it!” He rushed over and shoved me away. I stumbled back, my back hitting the wall with a painful thud. Frank helped the hysterical Mia to her feet. When he saw the red welts on her face and her disheveled hair, his eyes turned murderous. “Clara, you’ve really lost your mind!” He advanced on me, his face twisted with a ferocity I had never seen before. “You dare touch her?” Seeing him shielding Mia like that, I started to laugh. A hollow, broken sound. “Frank,” I said, my voice eerily calm. “She broke my mother’s portrait.” Frank paused. He glanced at the shattered frame on the floor, then back at the weeping Mia. Mia immediately started defending herself. “I didn’t mean to! She just charged at me and I lost my grip!” Frank’s brow furrowed. He didn’t pursue the matter of the frame. Instead, he turned his cold gaze back to me. “Even so, you have no right to attack her. Apologize.” Apologize? He wanted me to apologize to the woman who had insulted my dead mother? “I said, apologize,” Frank repeated, his tone leaving no room for argument. “And if I don’t?” I stared right back at him. “Then I’ll have to find another way to make you.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed a number. “Hello, Captain Miller? I have a situation here… Yes, at a friend’s apartment. I’ve discovered some… illicit substances.” He was going to frame me. “Frank, you’re shameless!” “You forced my hand,” he said, ending the call. He looked at me, his eyes cold and hard. “The police will be here any minute, Clara. When they find the drugs, red-handed, what do you think will happen to you?” Mia had stopped crying. She was now looking at me with a triumphant smirk. “You can’t win against the professor, Clara. If you get on your knees right now and beg him, maybe, just maybe, he’ll have a change of heart and let you off the hook.” A chill washed over me. I looked at Frank’s familiar face, now a complete stranger to me. This was the man I had loved for three years. For another woman, for his sick and twisted games, he was willing to personally shove me into hell. Faintly, from outside, I could hear the sound of sirens approaching. A victorious smile touched Frank’s lips. “Time’s running out, Clara. What’s it going to be?”

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My mom called me on the secure line at The Agency to tell me she’d set me up on a blind date. All I knew was that her last name was Sterling, and she was the daughter of the richest man in D.C. To pick out a decent greeting gift, my Director pulled some strings and got me into an exclusive charity gala. During the preview, I spotted a vintage Romanov Emerald necklace. Just as I reached for the display case to get a closer look, a guy in a cheap suit shoved me hard from behind. “Hey, pal! If you value your life, keep your hands off the merchandise.” I stumbled, straightened my jacket, and turned to glare at him. “This is a public auction, not your living room. Who died and made you king?” The guy sneered, looking me up and down like I was something he stepped in. “You’re asking me who I am?” “I’m the guy telling you that this is D.C. If Miss Sterling wants something, nobody else touches it. Capiche?” I stared at him for a few seconds, processing the audacity. Then I pulled out my burner phone and dialed my “fiancée’s” number. “I hear you’re running this town… pretty aggressively.” 01 If it weren’t for my mom, I wouldn’t have even bothered making the call. D.C. is a shark tank, but money isn’t the only thing that makes you an apex predator here. If she apologized, I figured I could be the bigger man and let it slide. “I’m busy. Make it quick or get lost,” a sharp female voice snapped on the other end. “Miss Sterling, I suggest you put a leash on your dogs, otherwise—” Click. She hung up on me. I stood there, phone in hand, blinking. Is this standard operating procedure for billionaire heiresses? Seeing my stunned expression, the guy who shoved me—Brad, the assistant—grinned so wide his face looked like it might split. “Oh, look at that! I thought you actually knew Miss Sterling. Turns out she won’t even give you the time of day.” “Listen, kid. You’re trying to snatch something from the Sterlings in this town? You got a death wish?” He saw I was in my early twenties and wearing off-the-rack clothes. He didn’t see a threat. “Sir, let me be clear. This is an auction house. It’s not the Sterling estate.” “The rule here is simple: Highest bidder wins.” “Highest bidder?” Brad burst out laughing. “Kid, is your brain lagging? Do you need a reboot?” “Look around. Half of D.C. is built on Sterling money. You really think you can outspend us?” He was getting in my face now, spit flying as he yelled. I clenched my fist, my eyes going cold. “We’re in the capital of the free world, and a merchant thinks he’s royalty? That’s rich.” The crowd around us started whispering. “Whoa, this kid has a death wish. Disrespecting the Sterlings?” “It’s just a necklace. Not worth disappearing over.” “If I were him, I’d apologize right now. Maybe kiss the ring. He might even get a job out of it.” The crowd’s murmurs only fueled Brad’s ego. “You little punk. You dare look down on the Sterlings? You’re done.” I didn’t flinch. I actually found it funny. “I suggest you rinse your mouth out with soap.” “If you actually manage to piss me off, your boss won’t be able to pay the repair bill.” “Repair this!” Brad swung at me. I dodged effortlessly. He threw three more punches, hitting nothing but air. “Quit moving, you little rat! You want me to call Miss Sterling right now?” I didn’t fight back. Not because I was scared, but because before I left the Black Site, the Director gave me strict orders: “You represent the Department now. Do not engage in physical altercations with civilians.” Besides, I don’t brawl. I neutralize. Brad thought I was scared. He wound up for a haymaker. Just then, someone shouted from the entrance. “Miss Sterling is here!” Chapter 2 02 A woman with legs for days, surrounded by a phalanx of bodyguards, strutted toward us. “Brad. You’re my personal assistant. Why are you brawling with the help in public?” I looked her over. Mom had decent taste, physically speaking. She was wearing a crimson designer gown that fit like a second skin. The only flaw was the look in her eyes—absolute zero. “Miss Sterling. Let me introduce myself properly.” “I’m Spencer. Spencer Vance. My mother—” “Save it,” she interrupted, waving a manicured hand. “We aren’t a match. And the Sterling family doesn’t need a waste of space like you.” I almost checked my hearing. With my clearance level, even the Senators she bought dinner for had to salute me. “Victoria, let’s get one thing straight. I was forced into this just as much as you were.” “You think I want to marry you?” Victoria’s face twisted. “Don’t play hard to get with me, Spencer! Do you know how many men in this city would kill to marry into my family?” I grinned. “Victoria, I don’t know about them. But personally? I’d rather marry a barista from Starbucks than an heiress with zero class.” “And this ‘Sterling Empire’ you brag about? It’s just new money built on real estate bubbles. You have no legacy.” The room went dead silent. Then, chaos. “Holy… did he just say that?” “Victoria Sterling is the dream girl of every bachelor in D.C.! And he called her classless?” “This guy is insane.” I ignored them. Sure, the Sterlings were rich. But money? In the face of true power, money is just a number on a screen. I remembered her father, Richard Sterling, sweating through his shirt in front of my mother, begging for this engagement. He probably never imagined his precious daughter was about to nuke his golden ticket. “You loser,” Brad spat. “Look in a mirror. You aren’t fit to tie her shoes.” Victoria sneered. “Brad is right. If my dad hadn’t forced this, I wouldn’t even look at a broke joke like you.” I narrowed my eyes, locking onto hers. “Since you feel that way, Miss Sterling, shall we call the wedding off?” I tried to be diplomatic. She took it as a negotiation. “Fine. How much do you want to go away?” I waved my hand dismissively. “Keep your money. I don’t want to get my hands dirty.” I turned to leave. “Hey! Get back here!” Brad yelled. I stopped and looked over my shoulder. “What? You want to buy me dinner, Brad?” He smirked and whispered something in Victoria’s ear. The heiress’s eyes flashed with rage. “Spencer! You dare try to outbid me?” Chapter 3 03 Brad had obviously poisoned the well. Judging by Victoria’s glare, diplomacy was dead. I didn’t bother explaining. “Yeah. I want the necklace. So what?” Victoria looked shocked that I admitted it. “Good. Great. Today, I’m going to teach you what happens when you cross a Sterling.” She raised her paddle high. “Open Bid. No limit.” The auctioneer nearly dropped his mic. He stammered, “The… the opening bid for this item is ten million dollars. Do we have an opening bid?” In auction terms, an “Open Bid” or “Lighting the Lantern” means you cover the spread. You keep bidding until everyone else bleeds out. It’s a declaration of war. Since the Sterling family wanted to gamble their entire legacy on a necklace, I figured I’d play along. “Ten million? I’ll take it.” The crowd gasped. They were all waiting for the punchline. Nobody knew who I was. “You idiot,” Brad laughed. “Do you know how many zeros are in ten million? This is Christie’s, not eBay.” “If you can’t pay, you go to federal prison.” I smiled at him. “Brad, stop worrying about my wallet and start worrying about your boss.” “There’s no undo button on an Open Bid.” Victoria scoffed and raised her paddle again. “Ten million is nothing. That’s my monthly allowance.” She glared at me. “You want to play? Let’s see if you have the cards. I raise to twenty million!” The room exploded. It was a charity auction. This necklace was worth maybe eight million, tops. “Generous,” I said, clapping slowly as I stood up. “I’m sure the orphans will appreciate your donation.” I held up one finger. “Twenty million… and one dollar.” In D.C., people usually kissed the ground Victoria walked on. Nobody ever told her “no.” Unfortunately for her, I wasn’t from D.C. I was from a place that didn’t exist on maps. “Ladies and gentlemen,” Victoria announced loudly. “Just so we’re clear, this man is a charity case my father found. He has no connection to me.” “When his check bounces, don’t come looking at the Sterlings.” I laughed out loud. “Thanks for the concern, Victoria. The auction house knows I’m good for it. But your family…” My voice dropped an octave, turning ice cold. “You guys should watch your backs.” Chapter 4 04 Victoria rolled her eyes. “Don’t talk big, Spencer. In this town, I’m untouchable.” As the price climbed, sweat started to bead on her forehead. I didn’t let up. “Victoria, since this is for charity, why are we nickel-and-diming? Let’s skip to the end.” “One hundred million dollars. Do you call, or do you fold?” The room went silent. One hundred million. Liquid. Victoria froze. Brad jumped in to save her. “This is an auction, you fraud! It’s not a game of Monopoly! Show us the money!” The crowd, sensing blood, joined in. “Proof of funds! We want proof of funds!” I smiled. “Finally. Someone asked the right question.” I pulled out my phone. “Director? It’s Spencer.” The voice on the other end was warm. “Spencer! Did you pick a gift? How’s the girl?” I side-eyed Victoria. “Sir, I’m reporting a situation.” My tone shifted to official business. “Hostile engagement at the auction. Someone is running a ‘No Limit’ bid against the Department.” “What?” The Director sounded like he choked on his coffee. “That’s a federal auction. Who has the stones to do that?” “I wouldn’t joke about this, Sir.” I gave him the sitrep. I heard glass shattering on his end. “Hold your position. I’m handling it.” Before he could hang up, Brad snatched my phone. “You’re this kid’s ‘Director,’ huh?” “Listen, old man. I’m giving you twenty minutes to wire a hundred million. If you’re a minute late, I break one of your boy’s fingers.” The Director paused. I could practically hear the gears of the war machine turning. “You’re the one bidding?” Brad laughed. “Don’t bore me. Just pay up.” The Director’s voice went dangerously quiet. “One hundred million? Done. You just wait right there.” Brad handed the phone back, looking smug. “Victoria, you really know how to pick ’em,” I said, genuinely impressed. “I’ve never seen a man dig his own grave with such enthusiasm.” “Screw your ‘Director’,” Brad sneered. “As long as the Sterling name is on the building, I’m safe.” I smiled. “Is that so?” “You want to bet that by tomorrow morning, the name ‘Sterling’ won’t exist in this city?” Before he could answer, someone screamed. “Look outside!” We turned. A convoy of armored trucks, flanked by black SUVs with government plates, screeched to a halt in front of the venue.

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Three years after I got out of prison, I ran into Seraphina Rowe on Sycamore Lane, the place where our story began. She was taking a leisurely stroll with her new husband. I was just standing under a plane tree, lost in thought, wearing an old jacket that had been washed so many times it was nearly white. She walked right past me without a second glance. But ten minutes later, she came back. Alone. “Adrian… It’s been a long time.” My nails dug into my palms. I forced a calm smile. “You have the wrong person.” A flash of pain crossed her eyes. She grabbed my shoulders, her composure cracking. “Adrian, sending you to prison… it was never what I wanted.” “You have money, you have looks,” she pleaded, her voice tight. “You could still have a great life after getting out. But Leo is different. He’s an orphan, he has nothing. A criminal record would have destroyed him!” I brushed her hands away, my voice flat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Please don’t harass me, or I’ll call the police.” I turned and walked away, leaving her standing there with a look of stunned disbelief. The boy she once knew, the rich kid Adrian Vance who had seen his entire world in her eyes, had died three years ago. He died the moment she submitted the false evidence that sent him to prison. 1. A soft rustle, the sound of something light hitting the ground. I turned to look and saw a folded piece of paper lying on a fallen sycamore leaf. My release papers. Ever since I got out, finding a job has been next to impossible because of my record. I’d gotten into the habit of carrying them with me everywhere. I bent down to pick them up, but a slender, pale hand was faster. Looking up, I saw Seraphina staring at the document, her eyes wide. “Adrian…” She started to say something else, but I snatched the papers from her hand, cutting her off. “Thanks,” I said, my voice cold and distant, before walking away. How strange. She was the one who destroyed me, and now she was playing the part of the long-lost lover. The sycamore leaves drifted down around me, but I could still feel her gaze burning into my back. I felt nothing. I just kept walking until I rounded the corner. I passed by our old university and saw a large banner hanging over the main gate, thanking Seraphina Rowe for a generous donation. I couldn’t help but stop, taking in the familiar campus. Just then, two figures I knew well walked out of the gates. It was Leo Foster and Mr. Davison, our old homeroom teacher. They both froze when they saw me. “Adrian? Is that you? It’s been so long! Where have you been all these years?” Mr. Davison still recognized me; I guess I hadn’t changed that much. A genuine smile touched my lips, but before I could speak, Leo cut in. “You probably didn’t hear, Mr. Davison. After graduation, Adrian here went to prison.” A flicker of shock crossed our old teacher’s face, but he quickly masked it. My gaze shifted to Leo. Just as I expected, the look in his eyes was a toxic mix of smugness and contempt. “Oh! That reminds me!” Mr. Davison suddenly exclaimed. “I still have some of your old things I confiscated in my office. They were too valuable to throw out. I’m heading there now, I can give them back to you.” When we got to his office, I saw what he meant by “valuable.” He handed me a small box. I sorted through the yellowed pages inside. They were all love letters I had written to Seraphina. As a teenager, I must have written her name a thousand times. “And this,” he said, pulling out a small red jewelry box. “I kept it safe for you.” I took the box and opened it gently. Inside, a silver necklace still glittered. I felt a pang in my chest and turned it over. There, engraved on the back, were my initials. It was one half of a matching set I had given her seven years ago when I was trying to win her over. Back then, when I liked someone, I wanted to give them the best, the most expensive things. I’d seen the set in a magazine and knew I had to have it for us. I even had them custom engraved with our initials. But she had turned it in to the teacher, claiming it was a distraction from her studies. I gave her the one with my initials. The one with hers, I wore all through my youth. I snapped back to the present with a silent, bitter laugh. A laugh at my own naivety back then, and at the wreck I had become. “It’s nothing valuable,” I said, my voice hollow. “You can just throw it all away.” And just like that, the necklace that had once held all my hopes and dreams was dropped into the trash can by my own hand. 2. After saying goodbye to Mr. Davison, I left the school. I didn’t expect to see Leo still waiting for me outside. I tried to ignore him, but he chased after me, shedding any pretense of dignity. “Adrian! Why did you have to come back?” I stopped. “What’s the matter? Does this city have a new rule against ex-convicts?” At the mention of prison, I saw a flicker of superiority in his eyes. “So you do know your place. Good. You’re not some golden boy anymore. Seraphina and I are married now.” He took a step closer, his voice a low threat. “You’d better stay away from my wife.” This arrogant posture was so different from the timid boy who used to hide behind Seraphina’s back that I almost didn’t recognize him. I looked him straight in the eye, a cold smile playing on my lips. “Shouldn’t you be the one who remembers I was in prison?” “After all, Leo,” I murmured, “aren’t you afraid of ghosts?” The color drained from his face. A few years of comfort had made him careless. He was seething, but he had no comeback. He just ran a hand through his hair in frustration and stormed off. I stood there for a long time, lost in thought, until dark clouds gathered overhead, and I hurried back towards my shabby rented room. My shoes were cheap and ill-fitting, and the back of my ankle was rubbed raw and burning with pain. I had just made it inside when the sky ripped open and the rain began to fall in sheets. I shut the old glass window, but water still seeped in through the cracks. To be honest, I’ve only lived in a place like this twice in my life. Once is now, in this rundown little room I’ve called home for the three years since my release. The other time was seven years ago, at Seraphina’s house. Seven years ago, I was a different person. I had money and I had love. I acted without thinking of the consequences. And someone like me, against all odds, was completely captivated by Seraphina Rowe. I was surrounded by beautiful faces, but there was something unique about the girl who always had her nose in a book. It was no surprise I fell for her. I tried everything to get her attention. I knew she loved to study, so I bought her entire libraries of textbooks and research materials. I knew she only ate at the cafeteria, so I bribed the staff to give her extra portions. But she was untouchable, an ice queen. Every time I got close, she would just give me a look of pure disdain. Then, a friend told me her grandfather was sick in the hospital. I found out she was scrimping and saving every penny to pay for his surgery. The hospital bills were piling up, and they were about to turn him away. Without a second thought, I took a fraction of the trust fund my father had left me and paid for everything. When my mother found out, she was furious. We had a massive fight. I’d never been treated like that by my own family. I ran out of the house, swearing I would never go back. And that’s where she found me, on Sycamore Lane, huddled under a tree in the pouring rain. Through the downpour, I heard her voice, a strange mix of anger and concern. “Adrian, are you an idiot? Hiding under a tree in a thunderstorm? Are you trying to get struck by lightning?” Tears welled in my eyes. I heard myself choke out the words, “Seraphina… this idiot has nowhere else to go.” That was the first time she let me get close. She took me back to her home. 3. That night, the rain beat against her windowpane just like it was now. I had never been in a house so small, so sparse. But when I saw her sitting at her desk, a strange sense of peace settled over me. The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them. “Seraphina, be with me. I know you need money. If you’re with me, I promise you’ll have it.” The lamplight flickered across her face, hiding and revealing her expression. She was silent for a long time. After what felt like an eternity, she spoke. “This is just for the money.” It was a strange, disconnected statement, as if she were saying it as much for herself as for me. The words should have stung, but they didn’t. Because in that moment, I knew. She was finally letting me in. Later, she got into Northwood University’s prestigious law program. I used my family’s money to get into the same school. I was deliriously happy then. I believed we were in love. We were like any other couple, holding hands, kissing in the campus gardens. I was so naive, thinking our story was a real-life romance novel. I was her hero. It wasn’t until our sophomore year that another boy started appearing by her side: Leo Foster. Seraphina told me he was just a friend from her hometown, a freshman in her department. When I learned that, like her, he was an orphan raised by relatives, I didn’t press the issue. But the way he looked at me was anything but friendly. He would take gifts I gave Seraphina and show them off subtly, trying to make me jealous. He would invent excuses to pull her away from our dates. He would “accidentally” break my things, trying to embarrass me. In any story, he was the villain. I played the part of the magnanimous boyfriend and never said a word to her about it. But the worst thing he ever did was hire a group of thugs to assault me in an alley. He had asked to meet me at a coffee shop that day. I was running late because I was visiting my mother at our old family estate. That small delay, that one twist of fate, changed everything. The thugs he hired mistook Leo, who also happened to be wearing a pink shirt that day, for me. They dragged him into the alley instead. In the struggle to defend himself, Leo killed one of them. By the time I arrived, all I saw was a blood-splattered Leo and a body on the ground. I told Seraphina everything. She was the one person I trusted. But I never imagined that I would be the one charged with murder. I thought there had been a mistake. I tried to explain, frantic, desperate. I told her I was innocent, that I wasn’t even there. But Seraphina just stood there, shielding Leo behind her, and gave me a single, chilling look. “Does it matter if you’re innocent?” she asked, her voice light as air. “What matters is that Leo won’t be the one going to prison.” In that one, sickening instant, I understood everything. Why she wouldn’t believe me, even though Leo was the one covered in blood. Why she identified me as the killer, even though I had an alibi. She knew. She knew from the very beginning that Leo had killed that man. She was just playing dumb, pinning the crime on me. The so-called evidence against me? She submitted it herself. She was protecting him. And she was willing to send me to prison to do it. All along, it really had been just for the money. In the end, she chose him, the boy from her world, not mine. A loud clap of thunder outside jolted me awake. I was slumped over on the edge of my bed. I wiped the tears from my eyes and rubbed my temples, my head throbbing from the nightmare. Just then, there was a knock on the door. It was late. A knot of suspicion tightened in my gut. I peered through the peephole and saw Seraphina. Her hair and shoulders were soaked with rain.

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I found out my brother is the “villainous white moonlight” in a romance novel—the manipulative ex-boyfriend who tries to ruin the female lead’s life—while he was lying in the bathtub, about to hurt himself. I kicked the bathroom door open. “Go downstairs and buy me a pack of spicy Takis, a bag of Lay’s, and a Gatorade.” My brother froze. “But…” “I’m counting to three!” My brother shot up from the water like a rocket. “Sis, do you want the Fuego or the Blue Heat?” Just then, a row of bullet comments floated across my vision. [LMAO, isn’t the villain supposed to be ruthless, paranoid, and depressed? Why is he such a sis-con?] [This is the terrifying power of sibling suppression!] [Hahaha, this villain actually knows the difference between Takis flavors. He must buy them often!] 1 The bathroom door wobbled on its hinges from my kick. My brother frantically hid a fruit knife behind his back. I gave him a deadpan look, pulled a fifty out of my pocket, and gritted my teeth. “Five bucks for gas, not a cent more.” “Can’t we just DoorDash it?” My brother pouted, looking aggrieved. “Delivery is unhealthy!” He paused, clearly confused by my logic, but grabbed a towel off the rack and headed out, muttering, “Like Takis are any healthier.” After he left, I glanced at the fruit knife hidden by the tub. It was clean. I thought back to the floating text I saw earlier while binge-watching TV on the couch. [Sister is still watching TV! Go control your brother, he’s secretly plotting again!] [But the sister probably doesn’t know yet. Her brother is the villainous white moonlight in a ‘chasing husband’ novel. He blackens completely because he can’t stand the female lead using the male lead as his substitute!] [But the villain’s sister never seemed to like her ungrateful brother anyway…] [Forget it, sis, just run. Your villain brother is going to self-destruct soon, and he’ll even get you killed!] Me: “??” Why did this sound exactly like the trashy novel plots I’ve been reading? But wait. My brother is going to self-destruct soon? And I’m going to die too?? Hell no! The fortune teller said I’m destined for great wealth. I work out every day, put collagen in my coffee, and even say a little prayer before eating to bless the souls of the… rice grains I consume! How could I end up dying young? Absolutely not! My brother came back with the Takis, chips, and yogurt drink. He placed them by my hand. “Sis, they didn’t have Gatorade, so I got you a yogurt drink.” Then he started tip-toeing back toward the bathroom. “Cook dinner,” I said, munching on a chip without looking up. “I want sweet and sour pork ribs and crispy beef.” My brother froze, then resignedly turned toward the kitchen. 2 Half an hour later, the table was filled with my favorite dishes. My brother looked at me cautiously. “Dinner’s ready.” “Coming.” I nodded, putting down my snacks. My brother seemed anxious. He ate two bites and put down his chopsticks. He sat opposite me, lips pressed together, watching me gnaw on a rib while eyeing the crispy beef. Rule of the house: Kids don’t leave the table until the elders are done. I ate slowly. My brain was spinning, trying to figure out how to stop him from slitting his wrists and framing the male and female leads. The bullet comments were confused by my behavior. [Sister has a great appetite today. She ate five dishes by herself!] [Yeah, didn’t she used to say her brother’s cooking sucks? Why is she eating so much?] [Is it just me, or is the sister acting weird…] I frowned and blurted out, “Who said my brother’s cooking sucks? It’s delicious!” As soon as I said it, a burning gaze fixed on me. When I looked up, he immediately looked away. My brother pushed a dish closer to me, his voice a little hoarse. “As long as you like it.” I stared at his evasive eyes and red ears, my eyes stinging. Busy with work, I hadn’t properly looked at this brother of mine—who I’ve relied on since we were kids—in a long time. 3 I blinked. I shoved a few more mouthfuls of rice in. After eating, my brother skillfully started washing dishes. Once everything was cleaned up, he headed for the bathroom again. And locked the door. I walked over and knocked. “Bro, go walk Buster. It’s dark out and I’m scared to be alone. Chop chop.” Silence from inside. I turned to the balcony and nudged the sleeping Samoyed with my foot. He picked Buster up from a dumpster when he was twelve. Afraid I’d be mad, he didn’t dare bring him home, feeding him with his own lunch money. From a tiny pup, he grew into this big, goofy lug. Buster, annoyed at the forced reboot, barked at me twice. The bathroom door opened. My brother looked emotionless, just looking for the leash. “Buster, come!” The bullet comments exploded. [This isn’t a villain, this is the sister’s loyal puppy!] [Framing the male lead can wait. If Sister wants ribs, she gets ribs. Walking Buster is more important than being evil…] [But why do I feel like the sister is trying to stop the villain from framing the male lead?] [+1. In the book, the suicide happens today. Does this mean if today passes, the male lead won’t be framed?] True or false, I had to try! 4 We went out. My brother walked Buster, picking up his poop. I followed behind. Sipping fresh-squeezed orange juice, eyeing the kebab stand… By the time I bought a kebab, the dog was gone, and so was my brother. My heart sank. An image of my brother holding up a bloody wrist, accusing the female lead, flashed in my mind. Just as I was about to call him… “Sis.” Under a broken streetlamp in the park stood a boy and a dog. My brother waved his phone. “Been waiting for ages. Let’s go home.” My heart felt wrapped in warmth, but I put on a grumpy face. “What’s the rush? Can’t you walk slower?” “Okay.” My brother shortened the leash, his tone careful. “Sorry, Sis. Buster ran too fast.” He slowed down. His phone flashlight was pointed entirely at me, silently lighting my path. Walking through the dark patch, I could feel his arm stiffen. He seemed afraid of me. Under the warm yellow streetlights… My brother held the dog in one hand, and my half-drunk juice and unfinished kebab in the other. I walked calmly, lightly tugging his sleeve. Two hours later. I dragged my brother around the park loop after loop until Buster couldn’t walk anymore and played dead on the pavement… Only then did I stop. As soon as we got home, I pointed at Buster. “Give him a bath. He stinks.”

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