Category: English

One week before finals, my entire class of thirty students got transmigration-trucked into the body of a “True Heiress.” The “False Heiress” patted our cheek with zero respect, her voice dripping with malice. “You dead-eyed hillbilly. If you want to stay here, you’d better sleep with one eye open.” “Otherwise, I’m going to make your life a living hell.” She didn’t know that we had exactly 15 pairs of eyes to do just that. 1 After eating some sketchy, undercooked meatloaf in the cafeteria, all thirty of us woke up inside the plot of a “True vs. False Heiress” novel. We were sharing one single body. A massive data dump of the plot flooded all of our brains simultaneously. The body we were occupying belonged to Holly Yates. She was the True Heiress who had been swapped at birth by a nanny. For eighteen years, the nanny treated Holly like trash. When she finally found out the truth and ran to the Lynn family to reclaim her identity, nobody gave a damn. Her dad didn’t care, and her mom was cold. At home, she was gaslighted by the False Heiress, Lyla Lynn. At school, she was bullied relentlessly. Holly finally snapped, but her one attempt at fighting back was seen by Mrs. Lynn. Mrs. Lynn decided Holly was bullying Lyla. To “fix” her, they sent Holly to The Ranch—a brutal behavioral correction facility. In the end, Holly fell into a deep depression and jumped off a building. After processing the plot, we all let out a collective mental scream. Heartthrob: [Why do other people get isekai’d into War Gods or Dragon Lords? Why are we stuck in a tragedy? Who did I offend?!] Me: [This is definitely a capitalist conspiracy.] Jock: [AHHH! This novel was written by an NPC, I swear.] Bella (Queen Bee): [How do we get back? I have finals next week!] Nerd: [I need to go home!] Prez: [Everyone chill! Chill! Based on my years of reading web novels, we’re probably here because the True Heiress had too much grievance in her past life. If we help her reclaim everything that belongs to her, we can probably go home.] While we were debating furiously in the headspace, Lyla patted our cheek, dropped her villain lines, and then immediately pivoted. She looked up at Mrs. Lynn, who was standing on the spiral staircase, tears instantly welling up in her eyes. “Mom, just give my room to my sister.” “Sister said I’m a rat and I don’t deserve a big, bright room. I’ll go live in the attic storage closet.” Mrs. Lynn frowned. “Holly, didn’t I just tell you? Being swapped was Nanny Zhang’s fault alone. Lyla is a victim too.” “She’s lived with us for years. We see her as our own child. Lyla has claustrophobia, how could she live in the attic? Can you stop being so selfish?” Is this woman for real? Inside Holly’s body, we couldn’t take it anymore. Thirty of us started fighting for control of the limbs. The True Heiress’s body shuddered, then her face twitched, eyes rolled in different directions, and she started lurching toward them like a zombie from The Walking Dead. Me: [Left foot first! Who is controlling the right foot?!] Prez: [Who is grabbing the mouth? Priority one is explaining to Mrs. Lynn that we didn’t say that stuff!] Jock: [Can’t hold it back! I wanna roast them! Give me the mouth!] Heartthrob: [Why are the eyes blinking like a strobe light? I have no control!] … Mrs. Lynn looked at us in horror and instinctively pulled Lyla behind her. “Holly, what are you doing?” “Are you having a seizure?” Lyla’s eyes were wet with fake tears. “Is Sister pretending to be ugly on purpose to get Mom’s attention?” Seeing us lurch closer, Mrs. Lynn pushed us away with a look of disgust. Her diamond ring snagged on our collar. It was like she had touched something filthy; she yanked her hand back. The collar ripped, exposing a patch of jagged, shocking scars on our collarbone. Mrs. Lynn froze when she saw the scars. Lyla quickly stepped in front of her, blocking the view. I yelled, “Opportunity!” and tried to kick Lyla with the left foot. But I didn’t expect the Nerd controlling the right foot to be on the exact same wavelength. She swung the right foot to kick left at the same time. Holly’s legs crossed in mid-air, both feet left the ground, and the body launched itself like a “stubborn Magikarp,” flopping aggressively toward Lyla. We slammed onto the floor, smacked our head on the banister, and blacked out. 2 While we were unconscious, Prez called a meeting. Prez: [Listen up, squad. We exist as souls inside Holly. That means we all have admin rights to this body.] Prez: [But if we all drive at once, we crash like we just did.] Prez: [Forget going home—we’ll end up in a psych ward.] Prez: [We don’t know the exit condition yet, but we definitely can’t follow the original bad ending.] Prez: [So, I propose a schedule. Only one person drives the body at a time.] We all agreed. When we opened our eyes again, Bella was in the driver’s seat. We had been changed into clean clothes. The butler knocked, telling us to come down for dinner. Before we even got to the dining room, we heard Lyla sobbing. “Mom, does Sister hate me?” “Is that why she acted crazy in front of me…” “Mom, please don’t kick me out. I don’t have to be the young miss. I can be Sister’s maid. I’ll do laundry, sweep the floors… just treat me like a servant.” “Boohoo, please don’t send me away.” Mr. Lynn was wiping Lyla’s tears with heartbreak in his eyes. “Silly child, how could we kick you out? Don’t overthink it.” “Holly is just too immature. I’ll have a word with her when she gets here.” Nerd: [Omg, I’m gonna puke.] Me: [We need a plan. If the plot follows the book, we’re going to The Ranch.] Bella: [Relax. Watch me clutch this. Only a Queen Bee knows how to handle a Pick-Me Girl.] Bella put on a terrified, timid expression and walked toward the table. Mrs. Lynn nudged Mr. Lynn to shut him up. He grunted coldly. Mrs. Lynn stood up and ladled some soup for Bella. “Holly, sit. You scared us earlier. How do you feel? Do you want to go to the hospital for a checkup?” Bella wrapped her arms around herself, shivering violently, and frantically apologized. “I’m sorry, Mom. I’m sorry. I was having a somatic symptom episode.” Mrs. Lynn paused, ladle in mid-air. “Somatic symptom?” “I… I have depression. When I get triggered, my body reacts physically…” “How did you get that kind of illness?” Bella whispered, “When I was little, if Nanny Zhang thought I ate too much, she’d hit me with a hot fireplace poker. Sometimes it left a welt, sometimes it took a strip of flesh… The doctor said it’s PTSD from childhood trauma…” Mrs. Lynn’s eyes turned red. Lyla immediately interrupted. “Sister, the past is the past. Why bring that up now? You know Mom has a weak heart. You’re making her sad. She won’t be able to sleep tonight.” Bella looked horrified and bowed her head repeatedly. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t know…” Mrs. Lynn looked conflicted but stopped her. “It’s okay, Holly. You don’t need to apologize. Let’s eat.” Bella said “Okay,” took the soup, and turned to walk away. Mrs. Lynn asked where she was going. Bella pointed to the front door, voice trembling. “I… I’ll go squat by the entrance to eat.” “Silly child, why would you squat by the door? Sit and eat with us.” Mrs. Lynn grabbed Bella’s hand to pull her to the chair. Bella looked terrified. “Am I really allowed at the table? Nanny Zhang said I was a little animal, only fit to squat by the door and eat with the dogs.” Mrs. Lynn froze. Then she couldn’t hold it back anymore and hugged Bella, sobbing. Me: [Bella, you are a legend. Three sentences and the billionaire’s wife is bawling.] Bella: [EZ. Light work. The original Holly was too tough. She never talked about the abuse and hid her scars.] Bella: [If you don’t show it, nobody hurts for you. It’s not weakness; it’s strategy.] Inside the mind palace, we all gave Bella a thumbs up. 3 Lyla stared at us with pure venom. But she couldn’t do a thing. Mr. Lynn coughed. “Alright, alright. The past is gone. Holly, we know you suffered, and we will make it up to you.” Mrs. Lynn wiped her tears and sat Bella next to her. “Right, let’s not talk about sad things. Eat.” “Okay.” Bella nodded obediently. Halfway through the meal, Mr. Lynn brought up school. “Holly, we transferred your records. Tomorrow, you’ll start at Crestwood Academy with Lyla.” “You two can look out for each other.” Lyla’s eyes lit up. She smiled at us. “Don’t worry, Dad. I’ll take good care of Sister.” Nerd: [That smile is sus.] Of course it was. In the novel, this was the first reason the parents started hating Holly. Crestwood is an elite prep school. Top acceptance rate in the country. You either have money or brains to get in. All new students take a placement test. Classes are assigned by score. Money can’t buy you into Class A. Lyla got into Class A on her own merits, which made Mrs. Lynn super proud in her social circle. But Holly had zero formal education for eighteen years. Her grades were trash. She scored a total of 150 points. Across all subjects. Lyla forced her to take an IQ test, and the hospital diagnosed Holly as borderline intellectually disabled. Mr. Lynn thought Holly was an embarrassment, canceled her welcome party, and told everyone she was just an adopted daughter. Holly got dumped into Class F—the zoo for rich kids who didn’t study. She was bullied instantly. But things were different now. We have thirty brains. Thirty brains currently peaked for finals season. Maximum cognitive capacity. On the day of the exam, Prez organized us like a military operation. We breezed through the first three subjects. Then came Math. We all froze. Why is a high school testing AP Calculus and Advanced Functions?! Prez: [I just checked the plot again. Crestwood is insane. They teach college math early.] Heartthrob: [Does anyone here know Multivariable Calculus?] English Rep: [Nope.] Bella: [Crying_emoji.jpg. Nope.] Jock: [Is this fate? Are we doomed? Sobbing_emoji.] I raised my hand weakly. [Maybe let me try.] Jock: [Get real. You got a negative 5 on the last math mock exam. Did you forget?] Bella: [Negative five? How?] Me: [I fell asleep and drooled on the scan-tron sheet. They deducted 5 points for ruining the paper.] Bella: [Bruh.] 4 Me: [But… I can hear what the person in front of me is writing.] Prez: [Bruh.] Nerd: [Bruh.] English Rep: [Bruh.] … Even though nobody really trusted my “skill,” time was ticking. They decided to throw a Hail Mary and gave me the wheel. As soon as I took control, our senses sharpened. I focused on the sound of the pen in front of me. A is three strokes, C is one stroke, B and D are two, but D is written faster. Two hours later, I finished the test. The next day, results were posted. We ranked 36th. We were placed in the Star Class. Nerd: [Holy crap. The Star Class is the best class in the novel. Elites only.] Me: [Oops. I cheated too hard.] Prez: [So what did you actually score on Math?] Me: [It was all multiple choice. I purposely changed a few answers. I got a 140.] Heartthrob: [Your hearing is god-tier. Why do you usually score so low?] Me: [I feel like eavesdropping is cheating. If my rank goes up, I push someone else down. So I usually point-shave. I aim to score just a few points higher than Jock, so I’m second to last. Hehe.] Jock: [Thanks a lot.] I put the report card in my bag. As soon as I walked in the door, Lyla pounced. “Sister! Scores are out! What did you get? Which class?” I sighed. “Not great.” Mrs. Lynn walked over and patted my head. “It’s okay. Crestwood is hard. It’s normal to struggle at first.” Lyla bit her lip, a trace of malice in her eyes. “I heard Sister hangs out with delinquents at school. It’s normal for her grades to be bad.” “Sister should focus on school.” Mr. Lynn frowned. “Holly, education is important.” I looked up and locked eyes with Lyla. “Who did you hear that from?” “People.” “Which people?” I pressed. Lyla stuttered. Mrs. Lynn’s expression shifted. She told Lyla, “Don’t spread rumors.” Lyla pouted and nodded, then doubled down. “Then I assume Sister put all her effort into the test? You must have done well, right?” Mr. Lynn said, “Holly, let me see the report card.” I obediently handed it over, adding, “I missed a bunch of easy questions. Bad day.” Mr. Lynn’s eyes widened when he saw the paper. “You’re in the Star Class.” Lyla looked like she’d swallowed a fly. Mrs. Lynn leaned in, looked, and immediately beamed. “Star Class! That’s my daughter! Genes don’t lie!” “Good, good. Study hard so you can take over the company.” Mrs. Lynn hugged me and shoved a black card into my hand as a reward. Mr. Lynn read the report card over and over, muttering, “Nice. Very nice. She has talent.” Lyla stood to the side, staring at us with eyes full of poison. That night, a dead rat was shoved under our door. Its insides had been hollowed out. There was a note inside. Jock: [Does it say ‘The Revolution Begins’? Doge_face.jpg] Bella: [Bruh.] Prez: [Ignore him.] Heartthrob: [Open it! Open it!] I opened the note. It was one sentence. So you got into the Star Class. I can still make your life at school a living hell.

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I fell into a deep sleep that winter, only to awaken in another, seven years later. Dressed in a hospital gown and a tattered coat borrowed from a nurse, I was wandering the streets like a beggar when I saw him: my husband, giving an interview on a major financial news network. The reporter asked, “Mr. Holub, looking back on your journey, is there anyone you’re most grateful for?” My husband smiled. “There are many people I have to thank—my parents, the friends who built this company with me. But most of all,” he paused, his gaze softening, “I want to thank my wife.” “Aurora Bell.” 1 “I’m sorry, Ms. Hayes, but with no family member available to cover the subsequent cryogenic preservation fees, the Institute had no choice but to initiate an early reanimation.” I opened my eyes in a haze, assuming thirty years had passed. That winter, my battle with brain cancer had left me with a shaved head. “Leo, don’t look. I’m hideous.” At the time, medical science had no cure. To save my life, Leo Holub had placed me in a cryo-chamber, signing a thirty-year preservation agreement. He arranged for monthly payments to be made from his account. He’d said paying monthly would be a way to remember me every month. He signed for thirty years, promising that if he were gone before then, he’d leave his entire estate to continue the payments, enough to keep me preserved until a cure was found. If he was still alive after thirty years, he’d renew for another thirty, and another, until the day they could finally heal me. “What are you afraid of? You’re not hideous,” he’d said, gently caressing my cheek. “You always said a shaved head is the ultimate test of beauty. You’re just as beautiful now as you’ve always been.” “Besides,” he’d added with a soft smile, “by the time I get to wake you up, I’ll probably be a wrinkled old man. You’d better not find me too repulsive then, Winter.” “How long was I in the chamber?” On the front desk, I saw a business journal. On the cover was Leo, dressed in a tailored black suit, his tie knotted perfectly, leaning casually in an armchair. My Leo. Still so young, so handsome. “Ms. Hayes, the current date is December 1st, 2027. You entered cryo-sleep on December 25th, 2020. Because the payment for November was not received from the designated account, we chose to reanimate you this month.” “Also,” the receptionist added, “we’ll need you to settle the outstanding balance for November. The total is fifteen thousand dollars.” Fifteen thousand. That same cursed number. Once, for fifteen thousand dollars, my own father had nearly sold me to an old man. Now, for that same amount, I had lost my only hope for a future. “Did you try calling my husband?” I asked, confused. “He would have paid.” I used the Institute’s public phone and dialed Leo’s number from memory. It connected. “Leo, it’s me. It’s Winter,” I said, my voice catching in my throat. Seven years, Leo. Though for me it was merely the blink of an eye, for him it had been thousands of real, waking days. My heart ached for him. “Winter? Summer? I don’t know anyone by that name. You got the wrong number, lady!” a gruff, unfamiliar voice with a thick accent grumbled back, laced with irritation. Did I dial it wrong? I tried again, and again. The same man answered, his voice growing angrier with each call, until he was shouting. “I said you got the wrong number! Are you deaf?” On my last attempt, the call wouldn’t go through. “We’re sorry, the number you have dialed has been disconnected.” That’s when I finally understood. Leo had changed his number. 2 Leo never changed his number. He had promised me he wouldn’t, seven years ago. It was the autumn of 2020. The illness made me perpetually cold, and my vision was failing. I was walking to the hospital for a check-up, alone. At first, I could still make out the shapes of the sweet autumn blossoms lining the road, the hurried pedestrians, the children with their backpacks. Then, the world went dark, leaving only the lingering fragrance of the flowers. A kind stranger helped me to a bench. I didn’t dare move. The stranger tried calling Leo for me, dialing over a dozen times. No answer. “You can go,” I told them. “Thank you. My husband is probably busy. He’ll see the missed calls and come find me. I’ll just wait here.” After they left, I sat on that bench from morning until nightfall, terrified that if I moved, Leo would never find me. I just kept waiting. “Winter!” I turned my head toward the sound, my eyes vacant. The moment he saw them, he knew. I was blind. “Have you been waiting long?” He covered my eyes with his hands. “I was in meetings all day, I didn’t check my phone. It won’t happen again.” He took my hand, wrapped an arm around my shoulder, and guided me home. “It won’t happen again,” he’d repeated. “I’ve set your number to a priority contact, and I’ve set my number as the emergency contact on your phone. If you can’t see and can’t use the screen, just hit the emergency call button.” He guided my finger to the button on my phone, and his own phone began to ring. “My number will never change. I’ll always be the first person you can reach.” Nothing is forever. I picked up a discarded walking stick from the Institute’s lost and found, borrowed a winter coat from the receptionist, and left. Walking the streets, the city felt both familiar and alien. The roads were the same, but the storefronts were all different. Then I looked up and saw his face on a massive screen. Leo. He was still so young. Seven years had barely left a trace on him. In fact, like a fine wine, he had only grown more distinguished with time. The host was asking him, “Mr. Holub, who are you most grateful to for your incredible success?” “I have so many people to thank,” he said. “My parents, my friends and partners who struggled alongside me. But the person I am most grateful for is my wife.” He paused. “My wife, Aurora Bell.” “She has been my silent, unwavering support through it all.” On the screen, Leo’s smile was as gentle as it was the day he sent me into the cryo-chamber, as if he truly, deeply loved his wife. This woman named Aurora Bell. “So romantic,” a young woman passing by gushed to her friend. “I want a man like that someday.” I stared at the screen, desperately searching his face for any sign that this wasn’t him, but there was none. The faint scar above his eyebrow, the mole at the corner of his eye—every detail screamed that it was Leo. I pinched my thigh, hard. The pain was real. This wasn’t a dream from my long sleep. It was all real. Seven years later, Leo Holub had a new love in his life. Only I was still frozen in the past. I’ve always been the one left waiting. When I was five, my mother stroked my hair and said, “Mommy’s going to work. I’ll bring you back your favorite cotton candy.” The cotton candy at the street vendor was bigger than my five-year-old head. I waited excitedly all day, but all I got that evening was my father’s slap. My mother had run away. She never came back. The second time, I was seventeen. My bedridden grandmother suddenly found a burst of energy and promised to make me my favorite eggplant buns the next day. I sat on a stool by the stove, watching her knead the dough and prepare the filling. But the next day, the dough was still dough, the filling still filling. My grandmother had passed away in the night. The third time is now. I waited in a cryo-chamber, only to find Leo had married someone else. I wait, only to be abandoned. 3 I found my way to Leo’s company building. The receptionist was new. She looked me up and down. “Who are you? Who are you here to see? Do you have an appointment?” “No appointment. I’m here for Leo Holub.” I pulled the tattered coat tighter around myself. The December air was frigid. Cancer had wasted me down to skin and bones, and my head was still bare. “I’m his wife.” “His wife?” She scoffed at my appearance. “Ma’am, if you’re going to lie, at least come up with a better one.” She gestured with her chin toward a sofa. “And at least dress the part. There’s no way Mr. Holub’s wife would look like… you.” Her eyes scanned me from head to toe before she rolled them. “I really am his wife! We were married ten years ago!” “Do your homework before you try to scam someone. Mr. Holub has only been married for three years!” She waved over security. “Get her out of here. She’s bad for the company’s image.” Leo and I got our marriage license ten years ago, right after I turned twenty. It was partly for love, but also because I needed to escape my family. After my mother left, my father took up drinking and gambling. While my grandmother was alive, she could scrape together enough from odd jobs for my tuition, but after she died, the burden fell on me. I went to school during the day and worked as a tutor or at a bubble tea shop at night. My father would often steal my wages from my room. After he cleaned me out one time, I started giving my savings to Leo for safekeeping. We’d been together for three years by then. One day, while I was at work, my father called and said he’d fallen and hurt his leg. When I got home, I found a strange man in our apartment, his face flushed from drinking. He tried to drag me into the bedroom. My father had sold me for fifteen thousand dollars. I fought back with a knife, bit the man’s hand until I drew blood, and ran all the way to Leo’s apartment. “We should just get married,” he said, looking at me. “Then if your father ever tries to sell you again, he’ll have to go through me first.” He broke off a stem of a gardenia from a plant in the corner, fashioned it into a ring, and slid it onto my finger. “Someday, when I’ve made it, I’ll get you a real one.” He knelt on one knee. “Winter Hayes,” he said, his voice thick with emotion, “will you marry the man in front of you? For richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, I will love you always. Not even death can do us part.” “I will,” I’d whispered, marrying my love. “Please, don’t throw me out,” I begged the security guards now. “Just let me make one phone call to him. Just one.” I smashed a glass display case on the counter and held a shard to my own neck. Everyone froze. The receptionist, trembling, dialed the CEO’s office. “Hello, who is this?” A woman’s voice answered. “I need to speak to Leo Holub. Tell him it’s Winter,” I cried, my voice frantic and desperate. “It’s Winter!” “I’m sorry, I don’t know you,” the woman said, her tone languid and superior. “And I’m sure Leo… he wouldn’t know you either.” “Aurora, who is it?” I could faintly hear a man’s voice in the background. “No one important. Probably a wrong number,” the woman’s voice replied, muffled. “Leo, darling, you get back to work. I won’t disturb you.” The glass shard fell from my hand, leaving a thin line of blood on my neck. Security guards swarmed me, dragging me out of the building and dumping me on the sidewalk. Through a blur, I thought I saw the flash of cameras. How would they write about me online? A fraud claiming to be Leo Holub’s wife? A delusional fan? My vision failed again, the tumor’s symptoms flaring up with the extreme stress. I collapsed to the ground, helpless. I couldn’t find my way. Leo, I can’t find my way home again.

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My little brother, whose voice was cracking through puberty, came to my room to leach off my Wi-Fi. “Sis, can I just crash your network? I’ll stand right by the door, I won’t come inside.” My childhood best friend and arch-nemesis, on the phone with me, completely misheard the situation. He roared into the phone: “What the hell are you doing? I’m coming to your place right now! Tell that guy not to move!” Chapter 1 What’s the consequence of not coming home from college for a year? Well, you get a life-or-death call from my dearest and most revered mother. “Skylar Li! If you don’t get your butt back here this summer, don’t bother coming back ever!” I had no choice but to pack my bags and head home. When I saw Jamie Li at the station, I couldn’t believe my eyes. I remember him as a little squirt before I left for college, but now he had stretched out and actually looked like a decent human being. Seeing me, his eyes lit up, and he waved sheepishly. “Sis!” I hurried over and reached up to pat his head. “Not bad! A year away, and you’ve shot up so tall. Your voice is deeper, too. Are there a lot of girls at your school who have a crush on you?” He blushed even harder. “Sis, what are you talking about?” He took my luggage and led me out of the station to grab a cab. I blinked twice. “Where are Mom and Dad? Aren’t they here to pick us up?” He blinked twice too. “Mom and Dad went to Miami two days ago. They aren’t back yet.” I was stunned. “Wait, they made me rush home, but they aren’t even here? Is that reasonable?” Jamie was silent for a few seconds, then said, “I have even worse news. Want to hear it?” I sighed. “Spit it out. Nothing can break me now.” Jamie: “Our home Wi-Fi is busted. No internet at home; we have to use data.” Okay, I was too arrogant. I should have said, any slight inconvenience can absolutely break me. The Wi-Fi being broken is pure cruelty for two internet-addicted teens like Jamie and me. It’s like finding a bathroom when you’re desperate but there’s no toilet paper, or pulling out an umbrella in a downpour only to find it’s broken. I asked expressionlessly, “So what now? Let’s crash an internet cafe all night.” He asked, “Do you have any money?” Me: “?” Jamie smiled sweetly, delivering the most brutal truth. “My allowance got cut off because my grades sucked last semester.” The air was quiet for a moment. I stated a painful fact: “Truthfully, mine was, too.” We stared at each other, seeing mutual despair, pity, and the shared agony of not being able to function for the next few days. “Wait a minute!” I suddenly remembered something, and my eyes lit up. I started digging through my bag. I pulled out a small white device and waved it in front of Jamie. His eyes lit up too. “Sis, is that a mobile hotspot?” I nodded. I had bought this mobile hotspot recently, but the signal was so-so, and I was planning to return it. I never expected it to be so useful now. Back home, I immediately set up the mobile hotspot. Seeing the full signal strength, I smiled with relief. Just as I finished fiddling with it, my phone rang. I glanced at the caller ID, pursed my lips, and answered grumpily. “Caleb Evans, are you sick? Why do you call me every day?” He said smugly, “Just checking to see if my arch-nemesis is still alive and kicking.” I scoffed, continuing to hook up the data cable to my laptop, my butt sticking out. Caleb then asked, “Skylar, what are you doing? Why are you breathing so heavily?” Before I could answer, Jamie lightly knocked on the door, pointed to his phone, and asked pitifully, “Can I just crash your network? Don’t worry, I’ll just leach here. I won’t come inside.” I chuckled. Ah, the awkwardness of a teenage boy. He used to barge right into my room, but now he understood boundaries. I waved him in. “It’s fine. You can come in, I’m just…” “SKYLAR LI!” Caleb’s voice blasted through the phone, straight to my skull. “What are you doing right now?! Who is that dog of a man next to you?! I’m coming to your house right now! You wait there!” Me: “Are you psycho?” Chapter 2 I hung up. Jamie looked at me, full of gossip. “Sis, who was that?” I answered without thinking. “Just a childish punk who still wets the bed at eight years old.” He nodded knowingly. “Oh, right. Caleb.” I froze. “How did you know I was talking about him?” He shrugged, looking slightly exasperated. “Every time you two fight, you bring up Caleb wetting the bed at eight. I’m sick of hearing it.” I looked up at him, suspicion in my eyes. “I do that?” “Yeah, you do. If I didn’t see you two fight so fiercely all the time, I’d actually suspect you had a thing for Caleb.” I narrowed my eyes and ground my teeth. The look of a person plotting murder is hard to hide. But clearly, my sweet, naive little brother didn’t realize his beautiful, kind fairy sister was out for blood. He just kept chattering away. “But I remember after you graduated, you stopped fighting with Caleb so much. He’d look for you, but you wouldn’t go out. I thought you guys had a falling out, but I guess not.” I pursed my lips, lowering my gaze. A fleeting memory flashed—two figures wrapped in an embrace in a dark alleyway that night. I clicked my tongue and said threateningly, “Jamie, if you don’t shut up right now, you will lose your Wi-Fi access.” Before I finished, he immediately stopped and made a gesture of zipping his mouth shut. I nodded in satisfaction and continued connecting the cables. Once everything was set up, I gave Jamie the password and graciously allowed him to play on the beanbag chair in my room. I pulled out my own phone and started scrolling through videos, though my mind was elsewhere. Suddenly, I heard the sound of the front door code being entered and failing downstairs. I nudged Jamie with my foot. “Did you hear a noise downstairs?” He took off his headphones, listened closely, and looked at me. “Yeah, I heard it.” We stared at each other. I heard a dry, strained voice squeeze out of my throat. “Mom and Dad went to Miami, right? Then who is opening the door?” He swallowed, grabbed the small vase from my side table, and eyed the door warily. “Don’t worry, Sis! I’ll protect you!” I heard heavy footsteps pounding up the stairs, and Caleb’s easily recognizable, almost-piercing voice shouting, “Skylar Li! I’m coming in! Put some clothes on!” Me: “?” I didn’t know why he was emphasizing the clothes, but I yelled back, “I am wearing clothes!” As if my response triggered him, my bedroom door was kicked open with a bang. The force was so strong the lock mechanism flew off the frame. I ignored the door, staring at the person standing in the doorway—sweaty, breathing heavily, completely out of breath. I asked in disbelief, “Caleb Evans? What are you doing here?” I hadn’t seen him in a long time. The image of the awkward, young boy from high school was now replaced by the outline of a man. He looked… maybe a little hotter than before. Caleb caught his breath, checked out Jamie for a few seconds, then looked back at me, his voice filled with anger. “Skylar Li, how dare you bring a man home when your aunt and uncle aren’t here?” Me: “?” Perfect. My earlier thought about him being hotter was clearly wrong. He’s the same old jerk. Jamie turned his head, blinking blankly at me. “Sis, Caleb?” I nodded, got out of bed barefoot, gave Caleb a hard flick on the forehead, and gritted my teeth. “What the hell are you rambling about? That’s my brother!” Chapter 3 Speaking of which, Caleb and I grew up together; we were childhood friends. But unlike other childhood friends—who usually end up dating or are like siblings—we were sworn enemies who fought constantly. For instance, we’d argue for three days straight over whether to dip dumplings in vinegar or soy sauce, or whether sweet zongzi (rice dumplings) were better than savory ones. Any contentious topic would trigger an argument between us. But since my mom and his mom have been best friends for decades, and they’re godmothers to both of us, Caleb and I were in the same school and class all the way up. For the first eighteen years of my life (minus the years we couldn’t talk), we had a huge fight every three days until we went to different universities. I watched the outrage on Caleb’s face crack, replaced by confusion. I sighed, stating the facts. “This is Jamie.” He repeated in disbelief, “This is… Jamie?” Jamie nodded. “That would be me.” Caleb gave a dry laugh. “Ah, well, I haven’t seen you in so long. You’ve grown so much. I almost didn’t recognize you.” Jamie said earnestly, “You mean you didn’t recognize me, right?” Silence is the new aesthetic. With a mouth like Jamie’s, I knew he hadn’t dated anyone. Who would want to date a guy who kills a conversation instantly? I sighed, breaking the awkward silence. “Caleb, how did you get our front door code?” He answered righteously, “My godmother gave it to me, of course! She said she was worried about you being home alone and asked me to come take care of you.” Jamie raised his arm, pointing a finger at himself, and interrupted. “Wait, my mom said my sister was home alone? What about me?” Caleb smiled apologetically. “Sorry, she didn’t mention you were here. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have jumped to conclusions.” Jamie’s heart shattered. He turned and trudged upstairs dramatically. I felt like I’d heard the punchline to the world’s greatest joke. “My mom, asking you to take care of me? Did I hear that right?” He shrugged. “If you don’t believe me, call her.” I immediately grabbed my phone and called my mom. “You made it home?” My mom’s lazy voice came through the phone. I was slightly annoyed. “I sent you the train ticket info. I’ve been home for a long time.” “Oh, I didn’t look. Why are you calling?” I was even more annoyed, asking concisely, “Mom, did you give Caleb our front door code?” She admitted it instantly. “Yes, I gave it to Caleb.” I glanced at Caleb, who gave me a smug look, as if saying: See? I told you so. I covered the phone, whispering, “Mom, how could you give our code to an outsider?” My mom scoffed. “Caleb is my godson. He’s not an outsider. Besides, you’re home alone, and your dad and I were worried. Your godmother and the Evans are with us, so the two of you can look out for each other.” “Jamie is home! I don’t need his help!” “Oh? Jamie’s home? I forgot. Oh well, that’s the deal. Your dad and I are about to go skydiving. Gotta go.” Before I could say anything else, she hung up. Me: Confused-Black-Man.jpg Chapter 4 I stared at the disconnected phone, completely bewildered. I’d never had such a ridiculous day. Caleb stood there, hands in his pockets, saying arrogantly, “Now you know I was telling the truth, right? If my godmother hadn’t begged me, I wouldn’t have come to babysit you.” I rejected him instantly. “No thanks. Ugly alert.” If I had called him ugly before, he would have argued with me for hours. But this time, I watched him open his mouth, swallow his response, and then smirk, hitting me with a soul-crushing question: “Do you two know how to cook?” First blood. “You want to order takeout? I heard your godmother cut off both your cards.” Double kill. “I remember neither of you can cook. Are you planning to blow up the kitchen?” Ace. His barrage of insults completely dazed me. I managed to ask, “You’re being so eager. Are you planning to poison the food and assassinate me?” He looked at me like I was an idiot, subtly asking back, “Did someone pay a hundred million bucks for your brain?” I snapped, “Your brain is the one that’s never been used!” After weighing the options between delicious, home-cooked food, instant ramen, or risking food poisoning by cooking myself, I decided to temporarily bury the hatchet with Caleb. Caleb had suddenly started learning to cook in high school, and I remembered his food was actually pretty good. With that in mind, I sincerely welcomed him. “This household welcomes you. It’s an honor for you to join us.” Caleb: “?” I rubbed my hungry stomach and issued a cooking invitation. “Since you’re here, why don’t you cook before you go?” He twitched, then resignedly turned and headed downstairs to the kitchen. I happily followed, intending to grab a snack from the fridge to tide me over. He cocked his head and raised an eyebrow. “What, you think I’ll poison you?” I rolled my eyes. “I’m hungry. I’m going to grab a snack from the fridge.” “Eating snacks when dinner is almost ready?” My phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out to check the message, complaining as I did so. “Caleb, why do you sound like my mom?” “That just proves that your godmother and I are on the same page. Look at your unhealthy diet.” I mumbled, “Uh-huh, Nsdd.” (Not So Damn Disagreed) “What was that?” I ignored him, quickly scanned the message, typed a reply, and sent it off. I locked my phone and smiled at Caleb. “You can just cook for Jamie. I’m going out to eat.” His face instantly changed. “Going out? Why? With who? Boy or girl? Do I know them? What time are you coming back?” I tossed my hair. “Stay out of a beautiful woman’s business.” I turned and walked upstairs. Only when I got back to my room did I remember that Caleb had kicked my door down. Looking at the door, which was hanging precariously on its hinges, my temple started throbbing. How much force did that jerk use to kick my door? I frowned, debating for a moment. I decided to change clothes behind the curtain drawn between the closet and the bed, hidden from the doorway. “No way, Skylar Li, you have to tell me who you’re meeting. Otherwise, what am I supposed to tell my godmother?” I heard Caleb’s voice getting closer. I frantically tried to pull my shirt off, but the clasp snagged in my hair. The more I struggled, the tighter it got. “Wait…” Before I could warn him, he was already in the room. “Why aren’t you talking? You…” Caleb walked in, and we made eye contact. He suddenly choked on his words, his eyes locked on me. My shirt was still snagged at my neck, the bottom hanging down, but offering no real coverage. Even though I instantly spun around, it was too late. My face burned. Seeing him standing there, frozen like a crashed computer, I gritted my teeth and roared, “Caleb Evans! Get the hell out and turn your back!”

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1 It was our anniversary. I’d been waiting at the restaurant for three hours when Rosalind finally appeared. But she was with her ex, Evan. And her roommate, Karen, was with them. I raised my hand to call her name, but she walked straight past my section, heading for a table on the other side. They hadn’t seen me. They were separated from my table by a decorative partition screen, completely oblivious that the person in the next booth was me. With Evan there, I couldn’t just go over. I sent Rosalind a text. “Where are you?” “The food’s all here. If you don’t come soon, it’ll get cold.” Her reply was clipped. “In the lab.” My hand tightened around my phone. I fought the urge to call her out and instead typed back, “You’re in the lab?” The questioning tone seemed to set her off. Her next message was a furious tirade: “Lucas, what is your problem? Don’t you have anything better to do? Do you just spend all day watching me? You might have all the time in the world, but I’m busy. I don’t have time for your childish drama!” I stared at the screen full of accusations, silence falling over me. I thought back to all our other fights. If I hadn’t seen her with my own two eyes, sitting with her ex, wouldn’t I have already apologized, convinced I was in the wrong? Just then, I heard Evan’s voice from the next table. “What’s wrong, Rosie? Your new boyfriend checking in?” Karen chimed in with a teasing laugh. “Yeah, after she broke up with you, she found a new one. Lucas Hayes, from our department. He’s a rich kid, you know? Sweet and naive, with a fat wallet…” “He’s completely wrapped around her little finger.” Then came Rosalind’s voice, cold and dismissive. “Don’t talk about him.” “I don’t want him ruining my mood.” The words hit me like a physical blow. Her voice, so full of disdain, was a knife in my heart. All this time, I’d been walking on air, thinking I had finally won her over, that the goddess I’d worshipped from afar was finally mine. But to her, I was just an annoyance. Like a zombie, I slowly got up and walked to the edge of the partition. Through the gauzy fabric, I could almost see the cold indifference in her eyes. Karen giggled again. “He’s probably calling to remind you about your anniversary, right? He was asking us about your favorite foods a while back, said he was planning a surprise.” Rosalind’s voice was sharp. “I said I don’t want to talk about him.” “Some surprise. He’s just delusional.” The irony was crushing. I’d just gotten out of the hospital after a small car accident. I’d had my stitches removed early just so I could be with her on our anniversary. She’d once mentioned missing the food from her hometown, so I had spent days scouring the city for the perfect restaurant. And to her, it was all just me being “delusional.” Karen shrugged. “Well, you were never really into it from the start, were you?” That sentence was a blunt instrument, slamming into my chest. She was right. Rosalind had never willingly agreed to be with me. From the very beginning, she and Evan were the ones who were meant to be. Rosalind came from nothing. Her father was severely disabled, confined to a wheelchair, and her mother suffered from mental illness. She’d been a local celebrity when she got into our university with the highest scores, hailed by the media as a model of triumph over adversity. I met her on the first day of orientation. She was wearing simple, worn-out clothes, her expression cool and distant. Standing next to the wealthy students and their beaming parents, she showed no trace of insecurity or envy. She captivated me instantly. She was like a wildflower, fierce and resilient, and she took root in my heart. But I soon learned she wasn’t available. She had a boyfriend. His name was Evan. They were from the same small town. He was a few years older and had just started his own small company in the city. In our sophomore year, tragedy struck Rosalind’s family. Her mother, terrified by a thunderstorm in the middle of the night, ran out of the house. By the time the neighbors found her, she had drowned in the local reservoir. Her father, searching for his wife in the storm, slipped down a hillside and was critically injured. He was rushed to the local ICU. When Rosalind got the news, she nearly collapsed. And Evan, her boyfriend, vanished. He wouldn’t answer her calls. I was the one who went back to her hometown with her. I helped her arrange her mother’s funeral. I paid her father’s medical bills. But his injuries were too severe. On his deathbed, he mistook me for her boyfriend. He took both our hands, and with tears in his eyes, he entrusted his daughter to me. Throughout it all, Rosalind called Evan countless times. He never picked up. Only after we had settled everything and returned to the city did he finally show up. He fell to his knees in front of her, his face a mask of guilt and regret. He claimed his parents had forbidden their relationship, threatening to disown him if he didn’t break up with her. He said they had already arranged a marriage for him with a girl from a wealthy family. So, they broke up. I was by her side through all of it. Eventually, she seemed to be moved by my devotion and agreed to be my girlfriend. I thought she had forgotten that scumbag Evan. I thought she had finally fallen for me. I never realized that, in her heart, this was just her way of repaying a debt. And now, Evan was back. So, of course, her heart was starting to stray. At the next table, Evan was still putting on a show. “A man needs to have some backbone. You can’t just be clinging to a woman all the time,” he said with false authority. “Typical rich kid, born with a silver spoon. No real ambition.” Rosalind said nothing. She just kept eating, not refuting a single word. My heart felt like it was bleeding, but I sent one last, hopeful text. “I know the lab is important, but you have to take care of yourself. Please, come get something to eat.” Perhaps she saw it as an interruption of her reunion with Evan. She snapped. “Are you sick? When would I have time to eat?” I couldn’t hold it in any longer. “You don’t have time for our anniversary dinner, but you have time to go out with Evan?” That’s when it dawned on her. She shot up from her seat and rushed over, finally seeing me standing behind the screen. Even caught red-handed, she showed no guilt. Instead, she frowned, her voice filled with annoyance. “Lucas, are you following me?” The pain in my chest intensified. I held up my phone, showing her the location I’d sent her hours ago. “I booked this restaurant first. If you had paid any attention to my messages, you wouldn’t have brought them here.” By now, Karen was so embarrassed she couldn’t speak. But Evan, ever the actor, stepped forward, positioning himself in front of Rosalind. “Lucas, don’t be like this. I was the one who asked to see her.” “If you’re angry, be angry with me. Don’t take it out on a girl.” I looked at him with pure contempt. “Cut the act, Evan. If you had an ounce of this so-called courage when Rosalind’s family needed you, none of this would be happening.” His face twisted in an ugly grimace. But Rosalind pulled him back, shielding her ex behind her. She turned on me. “That’s all in the past. Why do you have to bring it up?” “Yes, Evan and I broke up. But that doesn’t mean we have to be enemies forever! What’s wrong with having a meal together?” Something inside me snapped. I pointed a shaking finger at Evan. “Have you forgotten how he treated you? The moment things got hard, he disappeared. Are you really going to let him back into your life? Are you ready to get hurt all over again?” “Fine! Just say the word, and I’ll step aside. Is that what you want?” The next thing I knew, a sharp, stinging slap landed across my face. Rosalind glared at me, her face flushed with shame and anger. “You’re the one with the filthy mind, Lucas! Don’t you dare accuse us!” “If anyone’s leaving, it’s you!” My cheek burned. But the pain in my heart was a thousand times worse. Humiliated in front of her and her ex, I choked back the grief and nodded slowly. “Okay. I get it. I’ll go. I won’t bother you anymore.” I left the restaurant and went home. I locked myself in my room and stared at the red thread tied around my wrist. Rosalind and I had gotten them from a soothsayer at a street festival a while back. They were a matching pair, meant to bless our relationship. When I had tied it on her wrist, she had been dismissive. She was a scientist, a pragmatist who scoffed at superstition. But I had smiled, tying the knot securely. “The woman said these threads will keep us together, forever.” She had pouted, muttering, “It’s so ugly.” I had to coax her for ages before she agreed not to take it off. Our relationship had always been like that. Her slightest frown could cause a tidal wave in my heart. I picked up my phone, opening and closing her chat window over and over, fighting the desperate urge to contact her. Have some pride, I told myself. I rubbed my throbbing temples and collapsed onto the bed, falling into a heavy sleep. In the middle of the night, a text woke me up. It was from her. “Still mad?” I stared at the words for a long time, unable to believe my eyes. Rosalind never initiated contact. She was too proud, too cold. Our daily conversations were always me, desperately racking my brain for something to say. She had strict rules for me. No texting during her classes. No calling when she was in the lab. And she went to bed early, so no bothering her at night. But the rules never applied to her. When I didn’t reply, another message came through. “You asleep?” I waited a few moments, then typed back: “What do you want?” She sent a voice message. Her tone was soft, coaxing. “I was wrong today. I booked a table. Can we have dinner tomorrow?” Whenever we fought, even when it was clearly her fault, she would give me the silent treatment until I caved and begged for her forgiveness. But now, she was admitting she was wrong. It was the first time she had ever offered an olive branch. I admit it, my resolve crumbled. I was weak. But I never, ever expected her to bring Evan with her. They sat side-by-side at the table, her hand resting nervously on his. “Lucas,” she began, her voice tentative. “Evan and I have something we need to ask you…” “You know Evan started his company from scratch. His latest project just lost its funding. I was wondering… could you help him?” Rage, pure and hot, erupted inside me. All the self-pep talks, the decision to forgive her and give us another chance—it all became a colossal joke. So that’s why she was suddenly being so nice. I shot Evan a cold look. “Sorry, I can’t. My parents run the company. I don’t have that kind of authority.” Rosalind’s face hardened. “Lucas, how can you be like that? I’m asking you nicely. He only needs five hundred thousand. That’s nothing to you. Why won’t you help him?” “Evan might be my ex, but he’s also my friend. You’re not going to let him fail just because you’re jealous, are you?” I shot to my feet. “Do you have any memory of what he did to you? He’s a user who abandoned you at your lowest point, and now you’re bending over backward to help him? Have you no self-respect?” Her eyes turned to ice. “It wasn’t his fault,” she hissed, defending him. “His parents forced him. Besides, he never went on that blind date they set up. That proves he was serious about me.” “It wasn’t his fault we broke up. It was mine. It’s my fault I wasn’t born into a better family.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. How badly had Evan brainwashed her? This was the same girl who could stand tall in her worn-out clothes among a crowd of luxury cars, the same girl who told reporters she had never once felt ashamed of where she came from. And now she was saying this? She paused, then delivered the final blow. “Besides, this is between me and Evan. I’ve moved on. Why are you, an outsider, making such a big deal out of it?” An outsider. The word sent me plunging into an abyss. I let out a harsh laugh, my eyes burning. “I’m an outsider?” She looked away, unable to meet my gaze. “You’re being petty and unprofessional,” she said coldly. “I’m just telling the truth.” Finally, she lifted her chin, issuing an ultimatum. “Do you want to be in this relationship or not? If you won’t help Evan, then we’re done.” “I don’t want a selfish boyfriend like you!” Just then, Evan stood up again, playing the noble martyr. “Lucas, I only came to you and Rosalind because I had nowhere else to turn. I never realized my presence would bother you so much…” “This is all my fault. Please don’t make things difficult for her. She agreed to be your girlfriend, and as a man, you should protect and understand her.” His sanctimonious speech made me sick. “Save it, Evan,” I sneered. “Anyone can pretend to be a saint. Let’s see if you stick around the next time there’s a real problem, or if you’ll just go crying to mommy and daddy again.” That did it. Rosalind pulled Evan behind her protectively. Her face was dark with fury. “Don’t you go too far!” “This is between us. Don’t drag innocent people into it.” I raised an eyebrow. “You think he’s innocent?” I had chased after Rosalind for three years. In that single moment, I was just… tired. I didn’t want to fight anymore. I didn’t want to humiliate myself anymore. All the anger drained out of me, replaced by a profound, chilling calm. I looked at her. “The red thread we got from the soothsayer broke. She said it was a sign we weren’t meant to be.” “Rosalind, let’s break up.”

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I wanted to buy my husband’s favorite Tang Sancai porcelain horse as an anniversary gift. But a mysterious buyer appeared mid-auction, immediately “lighting the sky lantern” (a term for an all-or-nothing, no-limits bid) and snatching the horse. As I was leaving, I received a notification that my husband’s supplementary credit card had been used at the auction house to purchase the exact Tang Sancai horse. In a panic, I immediately called the bank and froze the card. At the collection counter, a stunningly beautiful woman with a graceful figure fled amidst the mocking laughter of the crowd. Two weeks later, my husband, Liam Stone, and I went on a vacation abroad. Right after getting off the plane, I was drugged and abducted. I woke up to find myself locked inside an iron cage. The emcee on site spoke in broken English: “Today, we auction this woman! Highest bid wins!” And Liam Stone was sitting in the audience, his gaze dark, sinister, and vicious. “Chloe Vance, you love stealing other people’s thunder when they ‘light the sky lantern,’ right? Well, today, you can have your fill of stealing!” 1 I stared, horrified, at the dense crowd below the stage, my scalp tingling. Everyone held a copy of my body scan report, examining it and whispering judgmentally: “Look at this woman, she must be very well-maintained. Every part of her body is healthy. She’d be a prize, whether you bid on the whole package to take home and enjoy, or bid on individual parts for a sick relative.” “I’m shocked that Mr. Stone from the States would be so generous, putting such a fine woman up for auction. We can’t miss this rare opportunity.” “I heard the lady on stage is actually Mr. Stone’s wife. Once a man finds a new favorite, he doesn’t need the old one anymore.” Following their meaningful glances, I looked at Liam Stone, who was seated in the middle of the crowd. A chilling dread washed over me. My body, tied to the iron cage with ropes, continuously rattled against the bars, making a violent noise. I dug my fingernails so hard into my palms that blood trickled between my fingers. Just yesterday, we were sweetly planning our trip, full of affection. But now, Liam’s “casual friend” who supposedly helped him bid on the porcelain horse, Summer Lin, was nestled sweetly and gently in his arms, smiling victoriously. “Liam, why are you doing this to me!” My voice was hoarse with breakdown, and I was already sobbing uncontrollably. Liam leaned back lazily in his chair, a mischievous, shallow smile playing on his lips. He spoke nonchalantly: “My wife is so graceful and generous, of course, I can’t keep her all to myself. Good things are meant to be shared, right?” The crowd erupted in cheers of impatience, urging the emcee to start the auction immediately. Big shots from different countries gathered together, holding up their black number paddles, frantically waving them and shouting whether they wanted my heart or my kidneys. Liam turned and kissed Summer, then stood up and walked onto the auction stage. He delivered a hard kick to the iron cage holding me. The impact split my lip instantly, and a metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. “Chloe Vance, as the organizer of this auction, I’ll give you special treatment. I’m granting you the right to bid on yourself—to ‘light the sky lantern’ for yourself—so you can get your fill of stealing other people’s thunder, and finally experience the embarrassment our Summer felt at the last auction!” His exquisite, refined eyes were full of mocking malice. The barely hidden murderous intent meant he had no intention of letting me leave the auction hall alive. “If you’ve got the guts, why don’t you ‘light the sky lantern’ then?” I shouted. Everyone burst into laughter, standing up to look at us. “What’s she going to light the sky lantern with? Didn’t Mr. Stone register all the joint funds under his name when he entered the venue? Unless Mr. Stone is willing to chip in, Mrs. Stone is completely broke.” Liam feigned a look of sudden realization: “Oh, my bad! I forgot that the auction rules only allow one person per joint account. That’s truly a shame, darling. I have to buy a necklace for Summer today, so I’m afraid I can’t help you out.” I widened my eyes in disbelief, unable to grasp that these words were coming from the mouth of the man I had loved for eight years. “You tricked me into going abroad, drugged me, kidnapped me, and specifically organized this black-market auction to sell me off here?” “Why, Liam? Just because I froze the supplementary card when Summer tried to ‘light the sky lantern’?” Liam looked down at me coldly, savoring my pain. “Of course! Do you know how helpless Summer was that day? She endured all that mockery. You can do the same, can’t you?” With that, he gave me no more chance to question him and turned to step off the stage. He coldly tossed back one last sentence: “Put the restraints on Miss Vance! Let her sit among the bidders and watch herself sink step-by-step into the abyss, helpless—that’s the best revenge!” Summer Lin, standing below the stage, winked at me with a malicious smile: “Miss Vance, I won’t compete with you today, okay!” ________________________________________ 2 The entire auction hall was filled with cruel cheers. Someone whistled and shouted: “Mr. Stone, are you really heartless enough to let someone abuse your beautiful wife to death? Ha ha ha…” Liam raised an eyebrow, his expression indifferent. “If my wife doesn’t want that, she can ‘light the sky lantern’ herself. If she can’t, that’s her choice. I’m a very democratic man.” The crowd nodded in agreement, their voices playful: “That’s true. I heard the little sister-in-law ‘lit the sky lantern’ herself when bidding on that Tang Sancai horse, but Mrs. Stone shut her down. She clearly has resources. We should witness it tonight.” Amidst the noise, the auction bell rang. I was pulled out of the cage, the iron chain around my neck dragging me like a dog. I was tied to a chair in the front row, directly facing the large screen. My body report and photos scrolled across the screen. The feeling of utter humiliation instantly consumed me. My hands trembled as I clenched them together, my mind racing. Liam had registered all of our joint assets under his name. According to the black market auction rules, one account could not be used by two people simultaneously. Right now, I couldn’t even produce a hundred dollars, let alone ‘light the sky lantern.’ Liam had precisely calculated this. He knew all my financial details. If even one part of my body was successfully bid on, it would be enough to utterly destroy my life. I was a lamb to the slaughter, tied to the gallows with no retreat. We had been married for eight years. I stood by him as he went from a nobody to the CEO of Stone Industries. I never once complained about the hardships along the way. After he achieved success, I willingly stepped back to be his supportive wife. Now, Liam was personally sending me to hell just to appease a mistress. The discussions around me never stopped, with all sorts of vulgar remarks flying back and forth: “Mr. Stone is such a player; the women he trains in bed must be spicy. I’m going to bid on Mrs. Stone whole in a bit and get a good taste.” “No way, I’ve been eyeing Mrs. Stone’s perfect feet for a long time. I’ll chop them off and turn them into art.” I bit down hard on my lower lip, using every ounce of effort to keep myself steady in the chair. Finally, the auctioneer walked onto the stage, took the microphone from the emcee, and announced that the auction was about to begin. I abruptly stood up, making the iron chains rattle loudly: “Wait a minute! I need to go wash my face!” Liam slowly turned to look at me, his eyes full of obscure mockery: “Chloe, don’t bother trying to escape. Security here is tight; not even a fly can get out. Save your energy.” I endured the physical pain and stared intensely into his dark eyes. “If not even a fly can get out, is it too much for me to wash my face and calm down? Or are you too stingy to even give me that much time?” Everyone in the room held their breath, watching us. Our eyes met, and an undercurrent of tension flowed between us—a silent battle. Several of his acquaintances frowned: “Don’t delay, Mr. Stone. We can’t wait any longer. Don’t listen to her; let’s start now.” “Exactly! She’s just wasting our time. My bathwater is ready at home; I’m just waiting to take Mrs. Stone back with me.” Finally, under everyone’s expectant gaze, Liam’s face turned cold, his eyes dark and sinister. “Shut up, all of you!” ________________________________________ 3 The host’s fury silenced everyone. The staff switched my shackles to handcuffs, and I walked with a straight back, stumbling toward the water basin outside the door. It wasn’t until the cold water hit my injured hands that the tension in my whole body instantly eased. I collapsed, exhausted, next to the water basin. The tears I had held back for so long finally streamed down my face. My phone was still in my pocket, but all the money in the account had been transferred out—the balance was $\$0.00$. If I were to be sold off tonight, I couldn’t even begin to imagine the torture that awaited me. I could be played with and then brutally dismembered and sold off, never finding peace even in death. And my mother, who was in a coma from a car accident and lying in a hospital back home, would have her medical funding cut off immediately upon my death, leaving her to die in absolute despair. At the end of my rope, I finally made a decision. Gritting my teeth, I opened the encrypted email and clicked on a long-dormant contact account. The rushing water forcefully beat against the stone basin, and the surrounding silence was terrifying. In this dilapidated, crisis-ridden venue, a giant devil seemed to be hiding, ready to rush out at any moment and tear me to shreds. I hit send on the encrypted text, and my hand dropped heavily. Five minutes later, I dragged my chained feet back to the venue. When I pushed open the door, everyone looked up with excitement. There was astonishment, mockery, and impatient mischief. Liam Stone was holding a cigarette between his fingers, the swirling smoke briefly obscuring his vague expression. He then pulled Summer Lin closer and, looking down at me, spoke word by word: “My darling, I love you, so anyone who dares to bully you will pay the price!” I walked back to my seat, not looking at him, a trail of bright red footprints staining the floor. My voice was raw and broken as I said: “Start the auction now.” The crowd buzzed. The auctioneer looked at Liam questioningly. He chuckled and nodded: “Since Chloe is so impatient herself, let’s officially begin.” The moment he finished speaking, the lights in the auction hall shifted. The first set of auction information flashed onto the large screen: my hands. From my wrists to my fingertips, every inch was captured in high-definition detail; even the pores were clearly visible. I was still ridiculously wearing my ten-carat wedding ring on my right hand. Like a Shakespearean tragedy, everyone was witnessing my utter patheticness. Sitting below the stage, I already wished I were dead. Liam took Summer and sat down in the seat next to mine. Leaning close to my ear, he whispered: “As husband and wife, my Summer is generous. If you apologize to her and agree to divorce with nothing, I’ll help you this one time.” My lips curled into a cold smile. So, he didn’t just want my life; he wanted to steal our joint assets. And then, he would proudly marry his mistress, all while acting like the victim of a failed marriage. I remained silent, answering his provocation with indifference. The bidding shouts soon started: “Mrs. Chloe Vance’s hands start at five million, with a minimum bid increase of one million.” As soon as he spoke, people raised their paddles, the price quickly escalating to twenty million. Liam’s voice continued beside me. “Think carefully, darling. It might be too late soon.” The bidders were already leaning closer, their eyes full of greed, staring at my tightly clenched fists, waiting for the final gavel. Just then, I, who had been silent all this time, slowly raised my hand. My eyes were filled with desperate resolve. I spoke firmly: “I ‘light the sky lantern!’” ________________________________________ 4 Everyone in the auction hall was stunned. “What’s going on? Where did she get the money to ‘light the sky lantern’?” “She’s still trying to put on a show at a time like this. This woman is something else.” I held my neck stiffly, my gaze never leaving the screen. Liam sneered coldly, clearly convinced I was faking it. Summer Lin whined, pressing her full chest against him and speaking in a high-pitched, affected voice: “Mrs. Stone is hilarious. Liam said he could help her, but she’s still stubbornly holding onto her pride. She really must want to jump into another man’s bed. What a tramp.” Liam pulled a contemptuous face, his voice as casual as a stranger who couldn’t care less. “She wants to put on a show, so let’s watch the show. She’ll only lose more miserably later.” “Don’t forget I set the rule: if someone ‘lights the sky lantern’ but can’t afford to pay, they have to serve guests for free for a week in the auction house’s underground club.” The auctioneer heard Liam’s words and immediately straightened up: “Miss Vance, are you sure you want to ‘light the sky lantern’? Please do not disrupt our normal procedure, or you will face the penalty.” My fingers wouldn’t stop trembling. My jaw was tightly clenched. Layers of dry, stinging pain welled up in my eyes. I forced myself to reply: “I’m sure. Light the sky lantern.” The whole room roared with laughter. They clamored for immediate on-site verification of my funds. “She has to verify her funds right now! We can’t all be fooled by her playing games!” “Mr. Stone just showed us your account balance—not a single penny! And you still have the nerve to pretend.” Liam shrugged indifferently amidst the laughter. “Chloe, why are you doing this? Since you’ve made your choice, you can’t back out now. I can’t help you anymore.” With that, he crossed his arms, settled back firmly into his chair, and mockingly waited for the auctioneer to organize the verification. The crowd began rhythmically clapping their hands. Louder and louder, the sound grew into a huge, invading wave that battered my eardrums. “Verify! Verify! Verify!” I sighed, pulled out my phone, entered the password, and handed it to the verification officer who had approached me. “Take it and check. Just remember to return it to me later.” The verification officer took the phone with bad grace, a mocking curve on her lips, and grumbled resentfully. “What a joke. We already checked your account. Why go through all this trouble? No wonder people dislike her; it serves her right that even Mr. Stone hates her.” The others pointed and discussed. “Exactly, exactly! This is so funny. If this were in bed, I’d cure all her defiance.” “Look, everyone! Her legs are shaking so much the chains are rattling. When her balance comes up zero, she better not wet her pants. I’m still waiting to bid on her legs.”

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My fifty-year-old Dad, George, finally found love and married Lana, a trophy wife ten years younger. Month one: She batted her lashes and sweet-talked Dad into giving her $\$100,000$ for her son’s new house. Month two: She cuddled up to Dad, convincing him to hand over another $\$100,000$ for her daughter’s new car. My wife, Mia, was annoyed, worried about the growing list of claimants to the family fortune. I reassured her: “Dad’s struggled for years. He finally found someone he likes. Let him be happy.” Then, month three: The stepmother, wearing a lace nightgown, conveniently “slipped” and fell right onto me. Hold up. I thought she was after our money. Turns out, she wanted to challenge my wife for me? 1 I was doing my weekend workout. After stretching, I was ready for a shower when my stepmother, Lana, walked out of the bathroom. I frowned. She was wearing a skimpy lace slip. Her head was still dripping wet, the water running down her front, making the lace translucent. I looked away immediately to avoid any awkwardness, pretending to be busy arranging my clothes. As I passed her, she “slipped,” tumbling right into me. I was fatigued from the workout, my muscles not yet relaxed. I was completely knocked off balance, landing with her pressed against me near the sofa. Before I could push her away, she ran her hands slowly up my abs. “Oh, Jay. You have a beautiful body.” “You know, your father, he…” She leaned closer, her hot breath on my neck. I shivered. Seriously? Was she trying to seduce me? Did a 45-year-old woman think she was irresistible, trying to catch both father and son? I finally understood, and just as I prepared to hit her, the front door opened. It was my wife, Mia. Lana sprang up with lightning speed, smoothing her skirt, looking utterly “bashful.” “I just slipped, Mia. Jay caught me.” My heart hammered. What the hell, lady? Why are you blushing? I couldn’t hold back the scream. “You crazy old lady! Get your slobber off your mouth!” 2 The scene ended with Lana retreating, face red with rage, and my wife, Mia, leading me back to the bedroom, pinching my ear, looking like she wanted to kill me. I knelt miserably on the keyboard. “Honey, I swear I’m innocent!” “I was about to shower! I turned around, and she just flew at me!” “God knows why she was dressed like that!” I didn’t react quickly enough, and she definitely groped me. The thought of her slightly wrinkled skin touching my abs made me shiver, and my stomach churned. If Mia hadn’t walked in, I don’t know how much more she would have taken. Mia shot me a look. “Do I look like an idiot?” “Of course not!” I yelled. “Exactly,” Mia said. “That means you couldn’t possibly be interested in that old hag. I’m mad because I told you to deal with her, and you didn’t. Now she’s making a move on us!” I sighed deeply. Who could have seen this coming? Since my mom died fifteen years ago, Dad never remarried. As a man, I understood the appeal of a loving partner, so after I became an adult, I constantly encouraged him to find someone. But he never wanted to—until Lana. In just a few days, she completely charmed him. Every day was “Your Lana this” and “Your Lana that,” sometimes with a blush on his face. The man looked years younger. When I saw them acting sweet, I even played matchmaker. When they got married, I gave Lana a generous wedding gift, thanking her for rescuing my perpetually single father. She initially played humble, saying, “Thank you for your generosity, Jay, but I only care about your father. Taking money would cheapen it.” But a month later, she batted her lashes and asked Dad for $\$100,000$ for her son’s house. Month two, she leaned on him and asked for another $\$100,000$ for her daughter’s car. Dad always happily transferred the money without a word. Mia often warned me, “I don’t trust Lana. You need to watch her.” “What respectable middle-aged woman demands money right after getting married?” “She’s too obviously greedy.” Though I agreed she was greedy, I defended her. “It’s fine. She just got married and wants to take care of her kids first. She’ll focus on Dad later.” “Besides, Dad saved up a lot over the years. It’s fine for him to spend some on his wife, as long as they’re happy.” But the reality was a slap in the face. Lana didn’t seem to want a quiet life at all! Now I remembered. She was always “accidentally” touching me before. Bumping my hand while handing me water, or grazing my shoulder in the hall. I thought it was just coincidence in our small house. Turns out, she was lonely and after my body! “Honey, what do we do? Tell Dad everything?” Mia was cautious. “They’re still in the honeymoon phase. It might be hard for him to believe us.” I threw myself onto the bed, covering my head with a pillow. This involved a man’s dignity. Even as his son, telling him his wife was a fraud would be incredibly difficult. 3 The next morning, only Mia, Dad, and I were at the breakfast table. I asked, “Where’s Lana?” If she was absent, I could test the waters with Dad. Dad took a sip of soup and said slowly, “Her daughter woke up sick this morning. She went to look after her.” I blurted out, “Dad, you didn’t transfer her more money, did you?” “That’s not the point,” he said, pausing. “Jay, you need to be more careful at home. We have a woman living here now, and you need to be mindful.” I was completely confused. “What do you mean?” He coughed awkwardly, sounding displeased. “Yesterday, you were changing and ran into Lana after your shower, didn’t you?” “You’re a man, she’s a woman. She didn’t want to look, but you need to be more conscious. She felt awkward telling you, but you need to pay attention.” The food in my throat felt stuck. I hadn’t even exposed her yet, and she had already twisted the story and complained about me! The smear campaign was effective. Even if I told Dad the truth now, he’d be skeptical. That old hag was not only shamelessly aggressive but also incredibly calculating. I considered arguing, but Mia secretly kicked my leg and jumped into the conversation. “No problem, Dad. I’ll remind Jay to be more mindful.” Fine. Listen to the wife. First battle lost. After Dad left for his walk, I looked at Mia and raised my hands in surrender. “Wife, I respect your judgment. You are a genius. Please tell me what to do. I’m launching Operation: Protect the Family!” 4 Lana didn’t show any unusual behavior when she returned. She acted like a normal stepmother. Mia and I hadn’t figured out a full plan yet when she started causing trouble again. Dad said, “Your Aunt Lana’s granddaughter needs a spot in kindergarten. I need to pull some strings.” Lana married early, having a son and daughter. We met them once for a family dinner. Her son, older than me, had a daughter who was now kindergarten age. When Dad was playing with the kid, he asked about school. Lana’s son, calling him “Dad” constantly, said he was waiting for George to help them arrange it. Dad, flattered, promised he would handle it. Finding a good school wasn’t the issue. Public kindergartens are popular but not impossible. I didn’t mind. “Go ahead and find one.” Dad looked awkward. “It’s going to cost a bit. Most of my money is in term deposits. Can you loan me some?” “What kind of school costs that much?” Lana quickly grabbed Dad’s hand, looking upset. “It’s my fault. I told my son not to ask for too much, but he said he knew an old manager who owed him a favor. The manager could arrange it, but he just needed a bit of cash.” “George, I only mentioned it in passing. Don’t worry about the money. If it’s too much, the child can go to a regular school. I don’t want to cause trouble for you or Jay.” She poured on the sweet talk. But Dad ate it up. “Nonsense. Lily is my granddaughter now. Jay, just give me $\$50,000$. I’ll add another $\$50,000$. I’ll pay you back when the deposit matures next year.” “Dad, I think Aunt Lana’s being scammed!” Mia covered her mouth in shock. “Getting into kindergarten is easy! What kind of connection costs this much?” “I have a friend who teaches at Dual Star Academy!” “A friend of mine used her to get her kid into school. It cost a bit, but nowhere near $\$100,000$!” “I think your old manager might not have strong connections and is trying to charge an insane amount. I have a cheaper option. We could save money, and you could take Aunt Lana on a trip with the savings.” “Besides, you promised my stepbrother you’d help. It would be embarrassing to ask him to find another way! Why don’t you let me handle it? We can save the ‘old manager’ favor for later.” Dad thought about it and agreed. “That makes sense, Mia. I’ll leave it to you.” “I’ll handle it!” Mia smiled sheepishly. “But Dad, about the money…” I finally used my brain. “Dad, just transfer the money to Mia. Her friend will need some payoff. We can’t expect Mia to pay for it, right?” Dad nodded. “Of course. Is $\$50,000$ enough? I’ll transfer it now.” 5 Lana’s face fell as Dad pulled out his phone. She tried to salvage the situation. “Maybe we should still pay the old manager, just in case? Two options are better than one.” Mia smiled, stopping her. “Aunt Lana, this isn’t the kind of thing you want more people involved in. What if both connections go through? It would be awkward! They might think we don’t trust them.” Mia was right. Dad, a veteran in the business world, understood the social rules around favors. “Mia is right. We’ll follow your plan.” He patted Lana’s hand. “Don’t worry. My daughter-in-law is reliable. We’re family; she wouldn’t scam you.” I smiled inwardly. Dad, open your eyes. We are all scamming each other! Lana was internally fuming but could only manage a fake smile. “Thank you, Mia.” That night, Mia and I looked at the $\$50,000$ transfer on my phone, delighted. “Good thing you were quick, honey! Otherwise, Lana would have pocketed that money.” But now, we were officially at war with Lana. Mia and I started planning how to drive her out without hurting Dad. “But honey, do you really have a friend at Dual Star?” She rolled her eyes. “Of course not! It was just something to say.” “The kid won’t start school for at least three months. If we can’t expose Lana in that time, we deserve to fail.” “Even if they don’t split, I can just say the connection fell through. Always have a backup plan, Jay. You have a long, difficult road ahead of you!” Mia tilted her head, looking adorable. If it weren’t for her, Lana would be $\$50,000$ richer today. “You really are a genius! I’m so lucky to have married such a smart, beautiful woman!” I hugged her and kissed her fiercely. “The old saying is true: listen to your wife, and you’ll get rich!”

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1 The Hilton Corporation’s long-lost heiress had been found. As the family’s adopted daughter, I was just about to step forward to welcome her when a tiny, indignant voice echoed in my mind. This brain-dead heiress has been reading too many trashy novels. She’s going to frame my mom as the wicked adopted daughter, turning this into some cheap drama! My poor mom has no idea she’s about to be shoved down the stairs! She doesn’t even know I exist… and our time together is about to be cut short! It’s true, I’m the Hiltons’ adopted daughter. But my own parents are every bit as powerful as the Hiltons, if not more… And… wait a minute. Am I… pregnant? I’m carrying the sole heir to the Vance family—a decorated military legacy four generations in the making. I watched as Isabelle Hilton took two deliberately clumsy steps toward me. Just as she lunged, I took a sharp step back, my eyes cold as I watched her let out a shriek. And tumble down the grand staircase. … Isabelle, the girl who had meant to push me, was now a crumpled heap at the bottom of the stairs. Her face was a mask of pain, but her eyes, when they met mine, were blazing with theatrical fury. “I can’t believe it,” she declared, her voice ringing with manufactured disbelief. “The whole ‘real vs. fake heiress’ drama from the novels is actually happening to me.” “Nora,” she said, her voice dripping with accusation, “I know you’re upset that my parents found me. I know you’re terrified I’m here to steal the life of luxury you schemed your way into!” She pushed herself up, wincing. “But have you ever stopped to think that this was always my home? You’re the one who stole my parents, who stole eighteen years of my life! And I haven’t even blamed you yet! How dare you treat me with such hostility!” Her eyes glistened with a ‘defiant’ light, as if her every word was a righteous truth. But when did I ever steal her life? The little voice in my head scoffed. Isabelle dropped out of middle school, fantasizing about being a secret heiress. Now that her dream’s come true, she’s determined to play the part. My poor, innocent mom is being forced to swallow this crap. I gently touched my stomach, a faint flutter confirming it. There really was a baby in there, and somehow, I could hear its thoughts. While I stood there, stunned, Mr. and Mrs. Hilton rushed to Isabelle’s side, their faces etched with concern. “Isabelle, darling, get up. No one is trying to take your place.” “Nora would never push you on purpose. She has her own…” They were trying to explain my background. My grandmother and Mrs. Hilton’s mother had been the dearest of friends. When the Hiltons’ daughter vanished, my grandmother, heartbroken for her friend, had me spend time with them, even calling them ‘Mom’ and ‘Dad’ to comfort the grieving family. The tradition continued even after our grandmothers passed, a testament to the bond between the Hayworth and Hilton families. But Isabelle cut them off before they could finish. “Mr. Hilton, Mrs. Hilton! Stop!” she cried out. “I know that compared to a stranger like me, Nora is the one you truly have a bond with! I’m not trying to compete with her, so you don’t have to make excuses for her!” The formal address was like a knife to their hearts. They had spent years searching for their daughter, and this reunion was everything they had dreamed of. Their hearts ached for her, but I wasn’t about to be her stepping stone. “You’ve misunderstood, Isabelle,” I said, my smile vanishing. My voice was calm but firm. “I have my own parents. I have no need to steal yours.” I tilted my chin toward a security camera in the corner. “And as for whether I pushed you or you fell… the camera recorded everything.” I mimicked her earlier sarcastic tone. “I know you just got here, and you’re feeling insecure, worried you won’t be loved. But you can’t build a connection by framing others for sympathy, can you?” She wanted to play the strong, misunderstood victim. I was going to expose her pathetic little game. Isabelle’s face froze. She clearly hadn’t expected me to call her out so directly, disregarding the Hiltons’ feelings. I crossed my arms, my gaze unwavering. “So, are you going to apologize, or should I have the butler pull the security footage right now?” Whoa! A tiny cheer erupted in my head. I thought Mom was going to be a pushover to keep the peace with the Hiltons, but she’s a total badass! Looks like this is gonna be an easy win! A small smile touched my lips. My mother always taught me to avoid trouble but never to run from it. Now that I had my own baby to protect, I had to be an even better role model. Isabelle’s neck stiffened, but before she could retort, the Hiltons had regained their composure. “Isabelle, dear, Nora has her own family. She just comes to stay with us from time to time,” Mrs. Hilton explained gently, trying to smooth things over. “You must have lost your balance and thought she bumped you. It’s all a misunderstanding…” They reached down to help her up, offering her an easy way out. But as soon as they touched her, she let out a pained cry, “Ouch!” Isabelle had deliberately rolled up her sleeves, revealing a canvas of horror on her arms: ugly purple bruises, the circular scars of cigarette burns, and the faded white lines of old cuts. The Hiltons gasped. Before a word of pity could escape their lips, Isabelle began to tremble violently. The next second, she threw herself at my feet, groveling. “Mom and Dad are right, it was all my fault! I was just so nervous, I thought my sister pushed me. It’s all my fault! Please, Nora, forgive me…” She seemed to have snapped, frantically slapping her own face. “It’s my fault!” “I’m so sorry! I’ll do anything to make it up to you!” “Think whatever you want of me, sister! Just please, don’t let this little incident upset Mom and Dad. Don’t make things difficult for them…” I stared at her, utterly bewildered by her sudden transformation. Did she hit her head and develop a split personality? A moment later, a diagnostic report fell out of her purse, seemingly confirming my theory. Stress-induced psychosis. Dissociative identity disorder. She really did have multiple personalities. Through her sobs, Isabelle recounted a story of abuse after being abducted. “Every time I was hurt, I wished someone would protect me… and then… ‘she’ appeared.” The weaker Isabelle collapsed into Mrs. Hilton’s arms, whispering, “She told me to hide… that she would protect me, like a parent… I know she can be harsh and sometimes lashes out… but when I had no one, she was the one who kept me safe… Mom, if she does something wrong, can you promise not to blame her?” Clutching the report, the Hiltons held her tight, their hearts breaking. “It’s okay, baby, you’re home now!” “You’re safe in your own home!” “With Mom and Dad here to protect you, no one will ever hurt you again!” Isabelle peeked at me timidly. “Nora… sister… I need to apologize to you, too. Please, be the bigger person and forgive me!” She started bowing her head to the floor again, and Mrs. Hilton’s eyes filled with tears as she tried to stop her. Mr. Hilton, however, fixed his gaze on me, his brow furrowed. “Nora, Isabelle hasn’t had the same life you have. She must have endured unimaginable horrors to become this ill. If you’re going to hold a grudge over something so small and force her to apologize… then I will apologize to you on her behalf!” He actually bowed to me, his voice holding a cold distance I’d never heard before. Mrs. Hilton was openly weeping now. “Nora, please, for the sake of all the years your father and I have cared for you, show some compassion for Isabelle. I’m begging you!” It was as if I was the one who had driven her to this state. As the Hiltons escorted Isabelle to her room, I felt like I’d been force-fed poison. But how could I argue with someone who was clearly mentally ill? I was about to say something to comfort them when I looked up and a chill ran down my spine. As Isabelle turned her head, our eyes met. A cold, mocking smirk twisted her lips. For a second, I couldn’t tell if I’d imagined it or if her other personality was back online. Just as fear began to grip me, the angry little voice in my head snapped me back to reality. Those bruises are self-inflicted! She pinched herself to look pathetic! The burns and scars are from her edgy teen phase! Mom is the one who was wrongly accused and humiliated, so why is she being treated like the bully?! I placed a hand on my roiling stomach, trying to soothe my unborn child. I didn’t know if Isabelle’s illness was real or fake, but one thing was certain: anything that upset my baby was something I needed to get away from. After all, my husband, Ethan Vance, came from a family that had given three generations to this country. When he chose to follow in their footsteps, our lives became complicated. We’d married in secret due to the classified nature of his work, and I’d longed for a child, but it never happened. To my astonishment, this little miracle was conceived just before he left for his latest mission. I would let nothing and no one disturb its peace. Besides, no matter why Isabelle was targeting me, her goal was simple: she wanted me gone. I called my assistant. “Have the villa cleaned and prepared. I can’t stay at the Hilton manor any longer.” I’d only been staying here because my parents were overseas on business and Ethan was away. It was meant to give everyone peace of mind. But the moment I announced my departure, Isabelle was the first to object. She fell to her knees before me, weeping. “Sister, are you leaving because you’re still angry with me? I know you’ve been pampered your whole life and can’t stand the slightest grievance! If you’re still upset about the other day, please, just slap me again!” She gritted her teeth, a picture of grim determination. “I’m used to being hit! I’m not afraid of pain!” Her melodramatic performance sent a ripple of murmurs through the household staff. “Miss Hayworth is so petty! Miss Isabelle is sick! How could she blame a patient?” “An adopted daughter, bullying the real one into a corner like this!” “This isn’t even her house! Who is she trying to threaten by storming out?” Isabelle’s act of noble suffering made it seem as if she were the one who had been tormented these past few days. But in reality, her constant personality-switching had been exhausting. The “strong” Isabelle claimed she wasn’t used to being “served.” “I’m not a useless parasite like Nora Hayworth! I don’t need someone to clean my room!” she’d shouted, snatching a rag from the cleaning lady and throwing it in my face. “Do it yourself! A fake heiress with a princess complex!” Then, when the Hiltons returned, she would dissolve into tears, snatching the rag from my hands and kneeling at my feet. “I’m so sorry, sister! When I get scared or stressed, I just lose control… Let me scrub the floors for you…” The “weak” Isabelle was no better. Complaining that the house lacked warmth, she invited a mob of the staff’s children into my room. They tore apart my limited-edition collectibles and rare designer toys, leaving a trail of destruction. Then she’d ask me with wide, innocent eyes, “Don’t you like children, sister? They say their innocence is healing. I just adore them.” In front of the staff, she was all gentleness. But when I coldly kicked them out, her face would contort with malice. “Toys are meant for kids to play with! Are you really going to be a bitch and fight a child for a toy, Nora?” My specially ordered prenatal supplements were “gifted” away. The gentle Isabelle would say, “Mrs. Gable’s mother is in the hospital and needs nutrition. It was an emergency… I’m so sorry, sister! Blame me!” The strong Isabelle would spit at my feet. “I know you look down on the ‘help.’ You think they don’t deserve nice things! But you’re just a leech sucking the Hiltons’ blood! What gives you the right to be such a snob?” The vintage convertible my boyfriend gave me for my birthday? The weak Isabelle “kindly” lent it to the driver’s son to impress his girlfriend. It came back with deep scratches down the side. The strong Isabelle then blocked my path, arms crossed. “The car has full insurance coverage! Just let them handle it! Why make things difficult for him? Does seeing someone suffer over a little money satisfy your rich-girl ego?” No matter which “Isabelle” was on display, her calculated acts of generosity quickly won over the staff. “The real heiress is so much better than the fake one!” they’d whisper. Now, their whispers had turned into a chorus of condemnation, solidifying my reputation as an “arrogant, entitled bully.” The weak Isabelle was sobbing, her voice thick with despair. “It’s all my fault that sister is leaving! If you have to leave to make a point, to worry Mom and Dad, then I won’t stop you! I will simply die to atone for my sins!” In front of the Hiltons, Isabelle put on a life-or-death performance. Mr. Hilton’s voice was heavy with disappointment. “Nora, you’ve always been such a sensible girl. You and Julian always got along so well.” Isabelle wasn’t their only child. They had a son, Julian. He and I were raised together by our grandmothers and were as close as real siblings. He was the main reason I ever stayed at the manor. I never expected them to welcome a newcomer while he was away on a business trip. For the first time ever, Mr. Hilton’s voice held a note of reprimand. “Why is it that when it’s your sister, you become so difficult? Isabelle just came home, full of hope, and you’ve already scared her into a relapse. Now you’re using this ‘leaving home’ stunt to terrify her even more? You know she’s ill, yet you keep pushing her! Are you really so jealous of the affection we show her? You need to remember, Nora—Isabelle is our biological daughter!” Mrs. Hilton’s eyes were full of pain. “Nora, if you insist on throwing a tantrum and leaving now, Isabelle will be consumed by guilt. Please, I’m begging you. Can’t you stop competing with your sister for attention, just for now?” I felt a furious churning in my stomach and fought back a wave of nausea. “Mr. and Mrs. Hilton,” I began, my voice steady, “it’s perfectly understandable that you dote on your long-lost daughter. But you cannot demand that I sacrifice my well-being for her. I am my parents’ treasure, too, and they would be heartbroken to know I was being mistreated.” I paused, letting my words sink in. “And if, as Isabelle claims, my presence truly puts her under so much pressure, then my leaving is the best thing for her. It will save her the daily paranoia of competing with me and prevent her condition from getting worse.” They still didn’t know me. I don’t respond to emotional blackmail. As I walked toward the door, I paused. “And Mr. and Mrs. Hilton, if you truly care about Isabelle’s well-being… you should really consider getting her a second opinion.” After leaving the Hilton manor, the little voice inside me let out a sigh. You’re not supposed to wrestle with a pig… but seeing Mom put up with so much crap still makes me furious! A smile tugged at my lips, but the baby’s sigh grew heavier. And when I think about the huge blow Mom is going to suffer at the Hilton’s recognition banquet in a few days… I wish I could just jump out right now and tell her the truth! A blow? The truth? My eyebrows shot up. I didn’t know what my little one was referring to, but after all the humiliation Isabelle had forced on me, I never said I would just let it go. A recognition banquet, you say? Sounds like the perfect stage for a comeback. According to my little informant, I had a few days. That should be more than enough time to uncover the truth my baby couldn’t tell me. Once I moved out, life without Isabelle’s constant drama was blissfully peaceful. My brother-figure, Julian, even called me. “I heard everything,” he said, his voice warm with concern. “Don’t you worry, Nora. I don’t care if she’s a Hilton—even if she were the queen of England, she can’t bully my Nora.” He suggested I unwind at a new private spa he’d opened. “Wait for me to get back, and I’ll make things right for you.” But I never imagined I’d run into my nemesis there. It was the sharp-eyed, aggressive Isabelle, her face a mask of contempt. “I almost thought you had some backbone and actually left. So my brother is keeping you on the side, is he? No wonder he called my parents, reading them the riot act. You’ve been whispering poison in his ear behind my back!” Behind her stood a gang of her ‘friends,’ who immediately cornered me. My baby informed me these were her old crew from her rougher days. A bunch of girls who used to pool their money to buy one cup of lemonade. Now that Isabelle’s hit the jackpot, they’re all riding her coattails. One of them, with nails like talons, blew a puff of smoke in my face. “So you’re the shameless fake who stole Isabelle’s place?” “You took advantage of grieving parents and leeched off them for years! You really think that makes you a lady?” another one jeered, poking my cheek. The others chimed in, their words like venomous darts. “Isabelle is the real daughter! She comes home and has to walk on eggshells around a fraud like you!” “I hear you were all buddy-buddy with the young master, Julian, calling him ‘brother.’ How come you’re so threatened by a real sister?” “You’re a woman, yet you’re pulling this pathetic mean-girl crap! You have no shame!” “Did you think you could push Isabelle around because she just got back and doesn’t have anyone to back her up? Well, think again! We’re here now, and we won’t let you bully her!” Isabelle glanced at a nearby security camera and gave her friends a subtle nod. “Take her to a private room.” Mom! Run!

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After bombing my SATs, I changed my number, deleted my socials, and ghosted everyone I knew. Eight years later, at our high school reunion, the class president leaned in and whispered a secret: “Finn Sterling had a crush on you.” I spent days digging through boxes until I found my old phone and logged into the messaging account I had abandoned years ago. And there it was. A message sitting quietly in my inbox, unread for eight years: “Which college are you going to? Can I come with you?” But now? Finn Sterling is a world-famous superstar. 1 The sun was brutal today. I felt dizzy from the heat, and if you looked closely, you could probably see steam rising from the pavement. Traffic was a nightmare. To avoid being late, I bailed out of the cab and sprinted the rest of the way to the airport. Thirty minutes until Finn Sterling’s flight landed. He was the big shot our company spent a fortune to sign—a red-hot A-list celebrity. He was also my high school classmate. Two days ago, at the reunion, I laughed off the class president’s secret. “Finn Sterling? Having a crush on me? Yeah, right! That wouldn’t even happen in a fanfic. He’s Finn Sterling. If every one of his fangirls just spit once, I’d drown.” Anyone could like me, but not Finn. We were never on the same wavelength. High school Finn probably couldn’t stand me. 2 Finn Sterling was number one in everything. He dominated the trending topics, had zero scandals, and was the golden boy for every major brand. But he was an anomaly in the entertainment industry—focused solely on acting, never doing commercials. So when he suddenly agreed to collaborate with our company, it sent shockwaves through the industry. Countless massive corporations were lined up ahead of us, but he chose us. My boss was so excited he called emergency meetings all night. Somehow, the task of picking him up from the airport fell on me. The boss patted my shoulder earnestly. “Sarah, you have to take good care of Finn. Whatever he says, goes. Make him feel the warmth of home while he works with us.” I thumped my chest and promised, “Don’t worry, boss. I’ll do my best.” I said it with confidence, but inside, I was freaking out. In my memory, we weren’t close in high school. We barely interacted. But I was terrified of him because he looked scary as hell. Finn didn’t talk much. He always slouched in the back row, chin resting on his hand, dark eyes, high nose bridge, looking at people with indifference. That was high school Finn. 3 Stepping into the airport, I checked the time. Just made it. But what I didn’t expect was the crowd. It was packed. Fans everywhere. Before I could even process it, someone started screaming. “Finn’s here! My god! My god!” “Ah! It’s really him! He’s so handsome!” “He looked at me! He looked at me!” I sighed. The charisma of a top star was no joke. Finn was popular even in high school. Even though he always had a face like someone owed him money, that face was blessed by the gods. People couldn’t help but look at him. I was drawn to him too. But every time I looked, he’d avoid my gaze and frown slightly. After a few times, I stopped looking. I figured I should know my place. In high school, I was the class academic rep, but I was the type who only knew how to study hard. Since childhood, the phrase I heard most was: “Sarah, you have to work hard. You have to work harder than everyone else. We don’t have connections. Only by studying hard can you compete for a future with those who were born at the finish line.” So my childhood was dull. I didn’t know if I was happy, I was just used to it. Like this was how I was supposed to be. My classmates called me a nerd behind my back. So at the time, I thought someone like Finn must hate a student like me the most. Lost in my memories, the screaming around me suddenly stopped. A shadow fell over me. I looked up. The handsome man in front of me merged with the face in my memory. Unlike the brashness of his youth, he was now composed and elegant. Security and staff surrounded him. Finn looked relaxed. He extended a hand to me, his cool voice hitting my ears: “Hello, I’m Finn Sterling.” I reached out dumbly. He didn’t remember me. Makes sense. I was basically invisible in high school. But the moment our hands touched, Finn chuckled softly. His large hand enveloped mine. Finn rarely smiled on screen, so the fans around us went crazy again—screaming, shutters clicking like machine guns. Despite the noise, I heard him clearly. He said, “Sarah, long time no see.” His lazy tone made my heart tingle. Maybe it was the heat, but my face was burning. I wiped the sweat from my face and whispered, “Long time no see, Finn. I’m the pickup personnel from Zenith Group.” 4 We left the airport, but the luxury car the company sent was stuck in traffic. The sun was blinding. Suddenly, Finn took a step forward, his shadow shielding me from the glare. I looked up at him. His expression hadn’t changed much. I had to admit, he’d changed a lot. The guy who used to be so arrogant was now so steady. When we finally arrived at the company, Lily and her team were already waiting in the conference room. Lily, the hottest actress of the moment. Seeing Finn, Lily immediately stood up and greeted him familiarly. She’d worked with Finn on three dramas, all as leads. Even though they weren’t romance dramas, plenty of people online shipped them. This time, they were collaborating on our company’s perfume commercial. Seeing them talking together, I had to admit, they looked good. With everyone present, the boss called a meeting. After some pleasantries, Finn suddenly spoke up. “Mr. Sullivan, my assistant is on leave for a while. I was hoping your company could arrange a staff member to fill in temporarily.” Finn was a VIP. A small request like this had to be granted. The boss scanned the room and met my eyes. I suddenly had a bad feeling. No, boss, please no! I’m scared, don’t pick me! I frantically winked and shook my head at him. But he acted like he didn’t see it and pointed right at me. “How about Sarah? I heard you were in the same high school. You should be familiar with each other.” Familiar my ass. We barely spoke. Bad memories of high school flashed through my mind. I slammed the table in panic, my voice loud and firm: “I’m not worthy!” Finn looked up at me, danger in his eyes. “Reason.” Realizing everyone was staring, I stammered an excuse. “I feel like someone of Mr. Sterling’s status deserves a more excellent assistant. My abilities aren’t up to par.” I sat down nervously. The room was silent. Everyone looked at Finn. Finn leaned back in his chair, tapping his long fingers on the table, his tone indifferent. “Mr. Sullivan, I’m a nostalgic person. I like working with old classmates. If your company can’t even show this much sincerity, there’s no need to continue our cooperation.” He was talking to my boss, but his eyes were fixed on me. I squirmed in my seat. At this point, the boss didn’t care if I lived or died. He beamed at Finn. “Of course, of course. It’s Sarah’s blessing to be Mr. Sterling’s assistant. Don’t worry, Sarah is just modest. She’s very capable. She’ll do her best to make Mr. Sterling feel the warmth of home here.” Meeting adjourned. Finn stayed in his seat. I tried to sneak out with the crowd, but as I passed him, he grabbed my wrist. Finn said quietly, “We were in the same class. Do you have to avoid me like the plague? Sarah, you hid from me in high school, but we’re not in high school anymore. Tell me why.” I took a step back. People were watching. One photo and I’d be trending. But Finn wasn’t letting me go. He leaned in closer, his voice seductive. “Hm? Old classmate?” I looked down, avoiding his eyes. My face was probably redder than a monkey’s butt. Seeing me cower, Finn tutted in displeasure. His hand slid from my shoulder to the back of my neck. The cold touch of his watch sent shivers down my spine. I struggled uncomfortably and looked up at him. Finn’s face was terrifyingly dark. I heard him grit his teeth. “Your boss said you have to do your best to make me feel the warmth of home. Sarah, nothing less will do.” 5 I’ve always bowed to life’s pressures. After flunking the SATs, I went to a mediocre college. Getting into Zenith Group was dumb luck. To keep my job, I gave Finn a sweet smile. “Of course, Finn. I’ll do my absolute best to make you feel at home. It’s an honor to be your assistant.” I looked him sincerely in the eyes. We were very close. Finn suddenly looked away uncomfortably. “Yeah, well, it’s not like it has to be you, but since we’re old classmates, it’s better to be familiar.” I nodded outwardly, but inside I was screaming. Familiar? We barely spoke! He frowned every time we made eye contact! I didn’t know him at all! But since I was his personal assistant now, I had to learn his preferences and habits. I stayed late to organize the info. By the time I finished, it was dark. I shut down my computer and got up to leave. In the hallway, a familiar figure caught my eye. Finn. In the dim light, he was leaning against the wall, a cigarette in his mouth. The metal lighter in his hand glinted cold. He occasionally checked his phone, the screen’s faint light casting shadows on his face. I called out, “Finn?” He turned, instinctively snuffing out the cigarette. “Off work?” I nodded. “Why are you still here?” Finn explained awkwardly, “Oh, your company is huge. Lost track of time touring.” Lame excuse. Only an idiot would believe that. But I didn’t dare call him out. “Yeah, it is pretty big.” Silence. I looked calm, but I was practically shredding my bag strap. Awkward. What to say? Finally, Finn spoke. “Heading home? I’ll drive you.” I waved my hands, refusing a bit too loudly. “No need! No, really. I’ll just grab a cab. Don’t want to trouble you.” Finn looked at me and chuckled softly. He pinched the back of my neck and guided me forward. “Old classmates. No trouble. Don’t overthink it. I drove, it’s on the way.” 6 Just like that, I was in Finn’s car. My first time in a luxury ride. But before I could even tell him my address, Finn started the car and drove straight towards my place like he already knew where it was. He actually found it! He parked right downstairs. I was about to ask how he knew where I lived, but Finn spoke first. “Sarah.” “Yeah?” Finn didn’t look at me. His gaze was fixed ahead, hands on the steering wheel like he was bracing himself. “Do you still use that QQ account?” I was confused. “Which QQ account?” (Note: In this localized version, QQ refers to an old messaging app popular back then, like how Americans used AIM or Kik). “The one in the yearbook.” Finn turned to look at me. If you looked closely, there was nervousness hidden in his dark eyes. I shook my head. “Nope. After the scores came out, I changed everything.” Finn seemed to let out a long breath. He muttered, “So you just stopped using it. You didn’t intentionally…” “Huh?” I was confused. “What?” Finn looked at me, unable to hide the smile in his eyes. “Sarah, I wanted to take it slow with you, but I changed my mind. We’re adults. Being coy is ridiculous.” I was even more confused. “Finn, what are you talking about?” Finn leaned back in his seat, relaxed. “Go home and log into your old account. You’ll understand.” 7 Finn was being cryptic. As soon as I got home, I tore the place apart looking for my old high school phone. I couldn’t remember the username or password, or even the phone number tied to it. An hour. It took a full hour to find the old phone. It was in a small box, covered in dust. Inside the box, besides the phone, were my high school certificates. Seeing these things again made me sigh. I was actually a great student in high school. I worked harder than anyone. While others played, I studied. I was always first in exams. My parents were proud. But the SATs… I choked. Everyone expected me to ace it, but I bombed. I wasn’t surprised though. I knew it the moment I walked out of the exam room. I knew how bad my mental state was. I was too nervous. Everyone’s expectations were crushing me. Everyone told me to do well, or I’d be letting them down. My hands shook uncontrollably during the test. I hyperventilated. I kept checking the clock, terrified I’d run out of time. I left huge chunks of the test blank. I didn’t dare tell anyone. My parents had high hopes. When the results came out, they signed me up for a prep school to retake the year without even asking me. They looked at me with disappointment. “Do you know how much we sacrificed for your education? Sarah, you’ve disappointed us so much. Do you know how much face we lost?” That’s when I realized my grades were the only thing about me they cared to show off. Everyone assumed I’d retake the year. But that summer, I quietly packed my bags, changed my number, cut off everyone from high school, and had my first real fight with my family. I went to an average college, but I was happy. It was the first time I chose my own life. Do I regret it? Not at all! I’d do it again. I was a teenager. I deserved to be happy. Grades weren’t everything. I missed out on a lot, and I didn’t want to do it over.

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I busted my butt for 24 hours straight, securing two massive contracts worth millions. I took a 15-minute power nap in the bathroom stall. That afternoon, I got hit with a random $150 fine. I ignored it because, honestly, I was exhausted. The next day, I clocked in only to find out I was fired for “failure to pay the fine.” I stormed into the CEO’s office—who also happened to be my fiancé—to demand answers. His little assistant, smirking like she owned the place, cut me off. “Taking a bathroom break on company time is time theft. Fining you a day’s wages is perfectly reasonable!” she chirped. “Everyone else can finish their business in ten minutes. Why are you so special?” My fiancé chimed in, backing her up. “You’re a senior executive, Sarah. You should know better. We need to make an example out of you.” I walked out, catching a glimpse through the blinds of their silhouettes merging into one. I immediately dialed the CEO of our biggest competitor. “I’ve got twenty million in contracts. Give me a job.” “Conditions? Does your company time bathroom breaks?” 1 A hearty laugh erupted from the other end of the line. “Sarah, are you pranking me?” “Who the hell times bathroom breaks? Is your boss a psychopath?” I shot over my resume. “Just give me a title.” Harry, the competitor CEO, sent back an offer letter for Vice President. “VP work for you? Or do you want my chair?” “You’re a founding member of Jack’s company. You’ve been with him since day one. I’ve tried to poach you dozens of times, and you always said no. What happened? Lovers’ quarrel?” I snapped, “None of your business. You should be worrying about whether these twenty million dollar contracts can finally drag your company out of second place and crush Jack.” Harry’s voice was crisp, brimming with ambition. “Forget the contracts for a second. Without you, Jack’s company ain’t shit!” I filled out the onboarding forms and forwarded the contract details for the two deals I secured. “Pleasure doing business with you.” Harry, realizing I wasn’t joking, turned serious. “Sarah, if you’re genuinely joining, I’ll roll out the red carpet. But if this is just a power play to mess with Jack, rethink it. I’m not handing over the reins of my company just to get stabbed in the back.” A power play? I felt a chill run down my spine. Any executive fired for spending ten extra minutes in the bathroom would be mortified. Especially when the person firing you is the man you’ve been with for three years, the man you were about to marry. Especially when you built that company with him from the ground up, turning it into the industry leader it is today. It was cold, but expected. Jack’s special treatment of his assistant, Amber, had been a red flag for a while. “I don’t joke about work. Clear a desk. I start tomorrow.” I hung up. Harry kept blowing up my phone with disbelief. I packed up my desk, ignoring his messages. Suddenly, the overhead speaker blared, “Sarah, silence your phone during work hours. Violation: $30 fine!” Amber’s voice echoed through the office. Everyone looked at me. I ignored her and kept packing. She marched out of the office, furious. “Sarah, did you hear me? Jack was nice enough to pay your previous fine, and you’re still breaking rules?” I chuckled dryly. She was a joke. “Why would a fired employee follow company rules?” Jack heard the commotion and walked over. He leaned in close, whispering, “The girl made the rules. I can’t break them in front of her. But I paid your fine. You don’t have to leave.” I looked at him coldly and tossed my badge on the desk. “Don’t bother. You didn’t fire me? Fine. I quit.” I grabbed my box and headed for the door, but Jack blocked my path again. His face was flushed with anger as he scolded me in front of the whole office. “Sarah, stop throwing a tantrum.” “Amber set these rules to keep everyone in line. The company culture is better than ever, isn’t it?” I rolled my eyes. Better? Just moments ago, people were complaining in the group chat. Sales reps had to take the cheapest trains for business trips. Accommodation was capped at shady $20 hostels. Client dinners were restricted to street food because the budget was a measly $40. Jack enabled her, thinking she was cutting costs. But the employees were suffering. Trying to close million-dollar deals over a $40 dinner was embarrassing. Amber was the cheapskate, but Jack was the idiot for approving it. I’d been on the road so much lately, I barely spent time in the office. Now they were timing bathroom breaks? Two a day, ten minutes max? His company was doomed. I ignored the new fine Amber slapped on me for not silencing my phone and walked out. 2 I slept until the afternoon and decided to cook myself a nice meal. Just as I set the dishes on the table, the door unlocked. Jack walked in with Amber, and they casually sat down and started eating. I stared at them coldly. “I cooked this. What are you doing?” Jack frowned. “Didn’t you see my messages?” My phone was flooded with texts from him. Since hiring Amber, he hadn’t texted me in a month. Today, he sent a dozen messages, all about her. First, he scolded me for embarrassing him. Then he claimed I made Amber cry. Finally, he demanded an apology or he’d call off the wedding. It’s your fault for disrespecting Amber in public. She did nothing wrong. She’s just looking out for the company. I’m bringing her over for dinner. Cook something nice to apologize. Jack looked at the cilantro in the soup with disgust, fueling my rage. “I told you Amber hates cilantro. Are you blind? Pick it out, stem by stem!” He picked a piece of meat, blew on it, and fed it to Amber. “This is Sarah’s specialty. Try it.” Amber ate it off his chopsticks, still pouting. “The food is okay, but unless she apologizes in front of the whole company, I won’t forgive her!” “If she’s this insubordinate, how am I supposed to manage anyone else?” Jack turned on me. “Hear that? Apologize to Amber. Or forget about your job. I’m cancelling the engagement!” We promised never to use breaking up as a threat. Lately, he’d threatened it multiple times because of Amber. They were flirting right in front of me. I gripped my phone so hard I thought it would crack. “Something needs to be picked out, alright. You two!” I roared, “Jack, take Amber and get the hell out!” “You get yourself a mistress, bring her to work to flirt, and I’m supposed to apologize?” “If anyone’s cancelling the engagement, it’s me!” Jack’s face turned icy. He sneered, “This is our house. You’re kicking me out?” I kept a straight face. “This is my house. Get out.” Amber huffed as she left, smugness plastered on her face. “You dare kick me out? Do you know who I know?” “I know a bigshot investor! Apologize on your knees right now, and I might put in a good word for you!” Jack frowned, his tone menacing. “Hear that, Sarah? Kneel and apologize. The company needs her connections.” I slammed the door in their faces. “I don’t care who you know! The company isn’t my problem anymore.” Amber was fuming. Alone at last. Peace and quiet. But the food was ruined. I’d lost my appetite. I decided to eat out. While waiting for my food, I saw Jack’s Facebook post. “Sarah, I’m telling you, if you don’t publicly apologize to Amber, the wedding is off!” I rolled my eyes and blocked him. I hadn’t left the company group chat yet. The next morning, someone leaked that Jack and Amber arrived in the same car, wearing the same clothes as the day before. Rumor had it they spent the night at a hotel. Someone saw them. Photos included. I left the group chat and headed to Harry’s company. I didn’t want to hear another word about them. 3 Harry gave me my own office. He still looked shocked to see me. “You actually came! I was worried I set this up for nothing.” I handed him the contracts. “The annual industry awards are in three days. Whether we get first place depends on you.” His eyes burned with determination. “Don’t worry. With you on board, we’re taking Jack down.” I had three years of client relationships under my belt. That afternoon, I closed another deal. Walking out, I saw Jack with his arm around Amber, looking cozy. I tried to ignore them, but Jack pulled away and approached me. “I know about the group chat rumors. Don’t overthink it. Amber’s apartment flooded. I just gave her a place to crash as her boss.” Who was he kidding? Everyone knew they slept together. I stayed silent and tried to leave. Jack, feeling generous, offered, “Sarah, I know you want to come back. Amber drafted a proposal. If you help her close the deal, I’ll reinstate you.” I scoffed. “Dream on. I’m not helping her.” Jack sighed, his self-righteousness nauseating. “Amber’s fresh out of college. She lacks experience. Help her, and consider it your apology for yesterday.” “Stop being stubborn. Close this deal, and not only do you get your job back, but the wedding is back on.” We were on different planets. I didn’t want to talk to him anymore. I walked past him. Amber spotted the signed contract in my hand and gasped. “That’s the new project proposal I drafted! You stole my work!” She showed Jack her papers, whining, “I stayed up two nights working on this, and she stole it.” The papers in her hand were the proposal I submitted for approval before I left. I was the lead. When I left, the project was orphaned. She simply slapped her name on it. I opened my mouth to defend myself. Jack didn’t ask questions. He slapped me across the face. “Amber fined you according to policy, and you steal her project? No wonder you wouldn’t help her. Sarah, you disgust me! Did you steal all your previous wins too?!” My face burned. I stared at Jack in disbelief. I worked there for three years. Amber was a rookie. How could I steal her project? He snatched the papers from me and ordered his bodyguards to pin me to the ground. They grabbed my hair. Jack’s face was cold. “Sarah, you owe Amber an apology.” I struggled but was forced to kowtow to Amber. My scalp screamed in pain. Amber smirked, stepping on my hand with her stiletto heel. “Sarah, I despise thieves. Did you think an apology was enough?” Pain shot through my hand. She pressed down harder. “Thieves like you deserve to lose their hands!” It felt like her heel was piercing through my skin. My vision blurred from the pain. I whispered my defense, begging Jack to help. We were together for three years. He used to treat me like a princess. A papercut would send him into a panic. But now, Jack pretended not to hear. disgust filled his face. “No wonder your dad divorced your mom. You inherited her trashy habits. Even our engagement was something she sneaked behind my back to arrange. Like mother, like daughter.” “I will never marry a thief. Sarah, the wedding is off!” He turned and walked away. My heart, already shattered, was pulverized. He used my family trauma, something he once comforted me about, as a weapon. I realized how pathetic it was to hope he’d save me. Amber waved the stolen proposal in my face, showing me a photo of her stepping on me. She sneered, “The project is mine. Jack is mine! Sarah, I’m warning you. Try to fight me, and I’ll show everyone exactly what you look like crawling on the ground like a dog!” 4 I passed out from the pain. A stranger took me to the hospital. When I woke up, Harry was sitting by my bed. A flicker of pain hid deep in his eyes. He sat in silence. I whispered that I needed a few days off to recover. Harry agreed instantly. “Take your time. The awards are in three days. We’ll take Jack down.” On the day of the awards, Harry and I sat in the front row. Jack saw us and walked over with Amber, mocking, “Sarah, you stole Amber’s project and ran to the runner-up? Even if you were fired, have some self-respect.” “Oh wait, my company is number one. You couldn’t find anywhere better.” Amber chimed in, “Wait until we win again this year and partner with that investor. You’ll be eating dirt while we monopolize the market!” I felt sick looking at them. My scalp tingled with phantom pain. Jack didn’t hide it anymore. He held Amber close. “Amber is way more capable than you! She designed a cross-state medical collaboration effortlessly. You won’t get a chance to steal from her again.” I laughed internally. Was he talking about the scrap paper I threw in the trash? Amber liked dumpster diving, apparently. If Jack actually went through with that plan… showtime. Other CEOs swarmed Jack. “Why even have this award? As long as Jack is here, first place is a lock.” “Exactly. The Best Enterprise trophy is nothing to Jack. But the funding from that investor? That’s the real prize.” “It’s gotta be Jack.” They glanced at Harry and me. “Sitting in the front row doesn’t make you a winner. You gotta earn it!” Jack soaked up the praise and walked away with his entourage. Harry and I watched them calmly. Who would win was still up in the air. The ceremony began. Jack stood up before his name was even called, heading for the stage. In the dim light, he shot a rude gesture at Harry. But when the host announced the winner, the room gasped. “Congratulations to Harry for winning Industry Leader of the Year! And securing the meeting with Mr. Stone!” Jack froze on the steps. His mind went blank. Harry walked past him, a polite smile on his face, but his eyes danced with triumph. He whispered, “Jack, sorry we took your spot this year. But don’t worry, you won’t be getting it back. You threw away your ace.”

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Five years after my brother threw me out, our paths crossed in the velvet darkness of a nightclub. He was the VIP client, dropping a fortune to celebrate his precious Stella’s birthday. I was one of the atmosphere girls, paid to pour drinks and keep the party going. We didn’t exchange a single word the entire night. Not until I’d downed two straight bottles of brandy for a five-hundred-dollar tip. As he stared at my ghost-white face, his lips thinned and his voice was a whip of ice. “You’d rather do this… degrading work than come home and apologize?” “Anna,” he snarled, “you’ve really got some fucking nerve.” I just gave him a tired, empty smile and held out my hand. “Five hundred dollars. Cash or Venmo?” Time had washed away the old grievances; I had no energy left to fight. But that five hundred dollars was exactly what I needed to pay off the final installment on my urn. … The private room fell silent. All eyes were on me, a mix of pity, curiosity, and contempt. Someone snorted with laughter. My brother Julian’s face, already dark, turned thunderous. He was humiliated. For people like them, five hundred dollars was less than the cost of breakfast. But for me, it was worth swallowing my pride and two bottles of liquor. His darling Stella, Stella Monroe, sneered at me. “Julian has been waiting for you to come home, and this is what you’re doing? Isn’t it… dirty?” I glanced at her. “There’s nothing dirty about earning an honest living. It’s not like I’m sleeping with them.” She let out a cold, dismissive laugh. “Are you that desperate for money? Fine. Drink two more, and I’ll add another five hundred.” The moment the words left her mouth, the onlookers started jeering. “Go on, drink up! If Stella’s adding five hundred, so will I!” “Count me in! I’ll throw in a grand!” Without hesitating, I reached for another bottle. Suddenly, the door swung open and the manager, hearing the commotion, scurried in, a greasy smile plastered on his face. He shoved me aside and bowed obsequiously to my brother. “Mr. Kane, did this employee do something to offend you?” “Please, don’t be angry. She doesn’t know how to behave. If—” “Are you going to drink it for her?” Julian cut him off, his eyes narrowing to dangerous slits. Sweat beaded on the manager’s forehead. He didn’t want to stand up for me, but he was terrified I’d drink myself to death on his watch. He chuckled nervously. “That’s a lot of alcohol, sir. Even a grown man couldn’t handle that, let alone a young woman like her.” “Then get the hell out!” Julian’s brow furrowed with impatience. He pulled a thick stack of cash from his wallet—ten grand—and threw it at the manager. “Anna isn’t leaving tonight. If you get in my way again, you can forget about keeping this club open.” The manager scrambled to scoop up the money, his face splitting into a delighted grin. He couldn’t care less about me now. With a quick “thank you,” he vanished. Every eye in the room was on me again. Julian’s lip curled. “What? You don’t want the money anymore?” My face was a blank mask as I walked over, grabbed a bottle, and tipped it back. After the first two, my stomach was already twisting like a knot of knives. I drank this one slowly, drawing a fresh round of mockery from the crowd. Julian’s expression grew darker with every passing second. Just as I finished the bottle and reached, swaying, for the next, his hand shot out and clamped around my wrist like a vise. “Are you trying to kill yourself, Anna?!” “I want the money.” I wrenched my hand free, grabbed the last bottle, and started pouring it down my throat. I had a plan. The lights were dim. I’d pretend my hands were shaking and let some of it spill. No one would notice. But I’d barely taken a swallow when a hand cracked across my face. CRACK! The blow stunned me. The bottle slipped from my grasp and shattered on the floor. Julian’s voice was a furious roar, his teeth clenched. “Have you no shame? Is money all you care about?!” “Stop drinking! Even if you drink yourself to death, I won’t give you a single cent!” The alcohol hit me like a tidal wave. The room swam, colors bleeding into one another. And a voice, a voice I had buried deep in my heart for five years, exploded in my memory: “You sold Mom’s heirloom for money? Did I starve you? Did I leave you without clothes? Why didn’t you just sell yourself?!” “Get out! From now on, I don’t have a sister!” Five years ago, Stella set a perfect trap for me. She stole our mother’s heirloom bracelet from Julian’s study, sold it, and blamed me. Julian was incandescent with rage. He made me kneel in the snow for three days and three nights, demanding to know where I’d sold it. But how could I know? I told him it was Stella’s scheme, that she couldn’t stand seeing him be kind to me. He refused to believe me. Theft. Disrespect for our mother. Stubborn defiance. I had hit all three of his triggers. Fueled by Stella’s lies, he confiscated all my money and threw me out of the house. For the first six months, I managed. I found a job in sales and could support myself with a little left over. But then everything changed. Julian made the one and only phone call to me in five years. His first words were: “Are you ready to come back and admit you were wrong? Just tell me where you sold it, and I’ll forgive you.” I was still running on pride and fury. “I told you it wasn’t me, don’t you understand? Go ask your precious Stella! She’s the one who sold it!” He hung up. The very next day, I was fired. He put the word out all over Bay City: anyone who helped me was his enemy. For the next four and a half years, I couldn’t find a single legitimate job. My only option was to work the nightlife circuit, being an “atmosphere girl.” It was like he was rubbing my nose in it. He not only publicly declared Stella the sole heir to his company, but he also paraded her around at interviews, galas, and auctions. He spent money on her like it was water—millions at a time. Their faces were constantly on the financial news channels. And I watched from the shadows, drinking my way into stomach cancer just to survive. I spent years seeing doctors, draining every penny I had. I took out predatory payday loans, but it was never enough. The experimental drugs were too expensive, and chemotherapy was a pipe dream. I tried calling Julian to borrow money. I’d barely gotten a few words out before he cut me off. “Money, money, money! Is that all you ever think about?!” “Don’t ever expect a dime from me until you come back and apologize. You can just go die in a ditch for all I care!” That was the call that extinguished my last flicker of hope. I was so tired. Truly. If he wanted me to die, then fine. I would die. At least the pain would stop. A month ago, I ordered myself an urn. I scraped together what I could, but I was still five hundred dollars short on the final payment. The shop owner called almost every day to chase the debt. I thought I could finally pay it off tonight. But Julian gave the manager ten thousand dollars and wouldn’t spare five hundred for me. He and his entourage swept out of the bar. I was left in the bathroom, vomiting until the world turned black and white. Only one thought remained. Three bottles of brandy. All for nothing. The shift supervisor was smoking beside me. “What in the world did you do to piss off Mr. Kane? His face was practically green when he left. What’s the deal between you two?” Waves of agony pulsed through my stomach. My head was spinning. I could barely keep my eyes open, clinging to the toilet to keep from falling in. “I don’t know him,” I mumbled. “Enemies, I guess.” The next day, a phone call ripped me from my sleep. It was the urn seller. “Miss Kane, when are you going to pay the balance? It’s five hundred bucks. Are you really going to drag this out for a month?” “If you can’t pay in three days, I’m not holding it for you anymore! And you’re not getting your deposit back!” My voice was a raw croak. “Please, just give me a little more time. I get paid in two weeks, then—” “I can’t wait two weeks!” he snapped, his tone sharp. “I’ve never seen anyone like you, dragging your feet over buying an urn. If you don’t have the money, you shouldn’t have ordered such an expensive one in the first place!” Before I could say another word, he hung up. My head was splitting. I called my manager, hoping to get an advance on my salary. His response was even more brutal. “Just so you know, you don’t need to come in today. You’re fired.” “And you won’t be getting paid. It’s Mr. Kane’s orders. Our hands are tied.” A roaring filled my ears. My voice was a frantic squeak. “You can’t do that! That’s against labor laws! I’ll file a complaint!” The manager laughed coldly. “A complaint? Go ahead. Mr. Kane said he’ll personally handle any consequences. His legal team is the best in the country. If you want to walk into a buzzsaw, be my guest.” He hung up on me, too. A knot of despair tightened in my chest. I felt sick, my face pale, a metallic taste of rust filling my throat. Suddenly, a mouthful of blood surged up, spattering onto my sheets. I stared at the bright, shocking red, and the tears I’d been holding back finally broke free. After a long while, I mechanically cleaned up the mess and swallowed a handful of painkillers. By the time I was done, I was completely drained of strength. Leaning against my bed, I thought back on the five years since I was cast out. I realized with a horrifying clarity that every escape route, every path forward, had been deliberately cut off by my own brother. Now, I couldn’t even work in the clubs anymore. Just eating was a challenge, let alone paying for painkillers or an urn. All I wanted was a beautiful little house to rest in when I died. Was that really so wrong? I buried my face in my hands and sobbed, crying until the afternoon sun began to fade. Finally, a sliver of strength returned. Looking at my trembling hands, I made a decision. I was going home. I was going to ask Julian Kane why. Why was he doing this to me? When I arrived, Julian and Stella were eating dinner. He glanced at me, his voice flat and devoid of emotion. “So, you finally decided to come back?” “Why did you have my manager fire me?” I shot back, ignoring his question. “Five years. Haven’t you humiliated me enough?” He raised an eyebrow, completely unconcerned. “How else would you learn that home is the only place for you?” “Anna, do you have any idea what people are saying about you out there? The only reason you haven’t heard the disgusting rumors is because I’ve been suppressing them. And you’re still not grateful?” Stella set down her fork, her voice dripping with venom. “Brother, she’ll never appreciate what you do for her. Look at her. She’s clearly blaming you!” “Shut up!” I lunged at her, my hand raised to strike. But in the next second, Julian’s hand closed around my wrist. His face was a mask of cold fury. “Now you’ve learned to hit people? I see you’ll never understand what you did wrong.” “Do you want to see if I can make it so you can’t survive in this city?” My heart seized, as if squeezed by a giant, cruel hand. Can’t survive? Isn’t that what he’d been doing for the past five years? Destroying my jobs, crushing my hopes, one by one. Leaving me worse off than a sewer rat, broken and bleeding, unable to even afford a final resting place. I was done. I was so done with his threats. The dam inside me broke. “I DID NOTHING WRONG!” I screamed, a raw, ragged sound. “Julian, if you won’t let me live in peace, then maybe I should just die! Would that satisfy you?!” “I’ll go to hell! You can’t control me there, can you?!” My words seemed to ignite his rage. A vein throbbed at his temple. “Even in death, you will forever be in my debt!” He shoved me. It wasn’t a hard push, but I was weak. I stumbled backward, my lower back slamming into the corner of the dining table. Pain exploded through me, and a cold sweat broke out all over my body. My face went white. A flicker of regret crossed Julian’s eyes. He turned his back on me. “Until you get Mom’s heirloom back, you don’t even have the right to die!” With that, he strode out of the room. I was in too much pain to get up. Stella stood over me, arms crossed, a triumphant smirk on her face. “Look at you, sister. So pathetic.” “How about this? You get on your knees and beg me, and maybe I’ll tell you who I sold that little trinket to. How about it?” I stared at her, my eyes burning with a hatred so intense I wanted to tear her apart. But I knew I didn’t even have the strength to slap her. I had lived in humiliation for five years. I couldn’t even have a shred of dignity before I died. Julian’s words echoed in my ears: “Even in death, you will forever be in my debt!” Fine. If I get the heirloom back, then I can die in peace, right? I desperately scraped the tears from my face and knelt at Stella’s feet. I bowed my head to the floor three times. “Please,” I begged, my voice cracking. “Tell me where Mom’s heirloom is.” In the past, every time she schemed against me, I would fight back with everything I had. But this time, I had no fight left in me. Stella seemed to lose interest. The game wasn’t fun anymore. She tossed a slip of paper at me. “There’s the address. But sister, you still have to be able to get it back.” Numbly, I picked up the paper, found a shared bike, and headed to the address. It was a pawn shop in a remote suburb. When I explained why I was there, the owner said nothing and simply produced the bracelet. Clearly, Stella had already briefed him. I felt nothing. I just wanted to get the bracelet back to Julian so our debts would be settled. But as I reached for it, the owner’s fingers suddenly went slack. CRACK! The jade bracelet hit the floor and shattered into a dozen pieces. I froze, the blood draining from my face. The owner cried out, “Young lady, why weren’t you more careful? This has nothing to do with me!” “Anna!” Julian’s furious voice came from behind me. I whipped around and met Stella’s triumphant gaze. She was clinging to Julian’s arm. “See, brother? I told you! Anna did it on purpose!” “She’d rather smash Mom’s bracelet to pieces than admit she was wrong. And to think you were still willing to forgive her!” Julian didn’t seem to hear her. His eyes were glued to the pile of shattered jade on the floor. He walked forward, his steps heavy. He knelt down stiffly, and for a long moment, he just stared. Then, piece by piece, he began to gather the fragments, clutching them in his palm. “It wasn’t me,” I whispered, a frantic panic rising in my chest as I watched his desolate figure. “He dropped it. And I wasn’t the one who sold it back then…” But at the sound of my voice, Julian shot to his feet and slapped me with all his might. The force of it sent me sprawling to the ground. My stomach churned, my cheek was on fire, and involuntary tears streamed down my face. His chest heaved, his face a terrifying mask of rage. “You still have the nerve to talk? For five years, I gave you chance after chance! I told myself, if you just came home and told me where it was, I would forgive you!” “But what did you do?!” “Anna, you don’t deserve to be a Kane, and you certainly don’t deserve to be my sister!” The utter disappointment in his voice was a physical blow. He had lost control, his eyes red as he roared at me. My heart plummeted into a black abyss. I felt a familiar metallic tang at the back of my throat and swallowed hard against the rising blood. My voice was a choked sob. “What if… what if I was really dying?” “Stop playing the victim!” Julian spat, his eyes filled with disgust. He was squeezing the jade shards so tightly that blood began to drip from his palm. “Even if you died, I wouldn’t feel a thing!” “Fine.” I clenched my fists and shakily pulled myself to my feet. In that moment, something inside me clicked into place. I was going to die. All the debts and resentments… they didn’t matter anymore. If he wanted to believe I did it all, then fine. I did it. After I was gone, I’d be nothing but a handful of dust. None of it would mean anything. I gave a bitter laugh and turned, walking out of the shop. Julian yelled after me, “Where do you think you’re going?! Won’t you be happy until you’ve driven me to my grave?!” I didn’t look back. My voice floated back to him. “You don’t have to die. I will.” For the next two days, Julian didn’t contact me. He took the bracelet to be repaired, only to be told that no matter what they did, it would never be the same. The sight of the poorly mended jade sent him into a silent fury. On the first day, he made a public announcement, officially severing all ties with me. Facing the media, his face was stone. “From this day forward, I will no longer be involved in Anna Kane’s affairs. Whatever job she finds, even if she sells her body, I will not interfere.” “I only ask that no one ever mention her name to me again. The sound of it makes me sick.” The media was in an uproar. He was swift and ruthless, having my name officially removed from the family registry. On the second day, he took Stella to the ancestral hall. He legally changed her surname to Kane and formally acknowledged her as the young mistress of the family. A relative asked him, puzzled, “Is all this really necessary? Anna is your biological sister. What if something happens to her, and you’ve abandoned her like this?” Julian’s lips tightened into a thin line. His tone was mocking. “What could happen? I’ve spent the last five years crushing her, and she’s still alive and kicking, isn’t she?” “She won’t die. She doesn’t have the guts. And she wouldn’t have the face to see our mother in the afterlife.” Unfortunately for him, he was wrong again. Because I was right there beside him, in spirit form. I had been dead for two days, my body floating in the river near our old home. The pain had become too much. The sorrow was unbearable. Death, for me, was a release. What I didn’t expect was that on the third day, Julian received a call from the urn seller.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “387042”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel