Category: English

At my birthday gala, I wanted to invite my fiancé Julian to open the first dance. Instead, I overheard him talking to his best friend. “You obviously want to ride Sarah’s family name to the top. So why have you humiliated her at her own birthday party five years running? Watching those socialites mock her as a lovesick fool—doesn’t that bother you at all?” “It does.” Julian swirled his whiskey on the rocks. “But what can I do? I lost a bet to Cynthia.” “I promised to let Sarah be embarrassed at her birthday gala six years in a row. Besides, Sarah’s a Claire—even if she loses face, no one would dare laugh to hers. Tonight marks the end of year six. Next year, I’m proposing to her at her party. I swear it.” With that, he loosened the tie I’d hand-embroidered for him, ran his fingers over the hidden monogram, and smiled. “This tie—I’ll give it to Peter as a little welcome gift later.” His friend froze. “Peter? Isn’t that Cynthia’s dog?” “If I don’t knock Sarah down a peg now and then, Cynthia starts feeling inferior.” Julian’s voice dripped with indulgence. Standing outside the door, I had no interest in hearing another word. I turned and walked away. When Grandpa entrusted me with executive control of the consortium, he’d given me one warning: “As the head of the Claire family, you are permitted no more than five acts of foolishness for love in your entire lifetime.” Since in this sixth year, the tie I’d stayed up all night embroidering was only good enough to serve as a leash for his childhood sweetheart’s dog— This wedding was off. … Ten minutes later, my twenty-fourth birthday gala commenced at the Hampton beachfront estate. A jazz band played as I stood at the top of the double helix staircase, a Chanel gown sculpting my waist. Julian sat at the head table. Beside him was Cynthia in a red dress. A golden retriever circled excitedly at their feet. “Peter, come here.” Julian snapped his fingers. The golden bounded over, tail wagging furiously. Under the gaze of every notable in the room, Julian removed the tie from his neck. He looped it around the golden retriever’s collar and knotted it. Nearly everyone at the gala recognized that tie. It was the token I’d presented to him at our engagement party—the family crest woven into its hidden pattern, stitched by my own hand. “How handsome,” Cynthia cooed, pressing her body against Julian’s side. “Sarah wouldn’t have agreed to give the tie to Peter, would she?” “She won’t mind.” Julian withdrew his hand from petting Peter. When he looked up, his gaze cut through the champagne tower and the crowd, landing precisely on me. Before—when I didn’t know the truth—I would have stormed over and confronted Cynthia on the spot. And Julian would have publicly berated me for behaving beneath a lady of my station, and it would have ended with my apology. Now that I knew the truth, I couldn’t even summon a flicker of anger. I looked at that tie, drew a deep breath, gathered my skirt, and descended. My heels struck the floor with sharp, clear clicks. The crowd parted to either side, opening a path for me. I walked straight to Julian. Cynthia flinched, shrinking behind him. Julian frowned, stepped forward, and shielded Cynthia with his body. “Sarah, as the hostess of this party, you should show some grace.” He spoke first—a warning. I didn’t look at him. My gaze settled calmly on the golden retriever. “Nice color on the tie. Matches the dog’s coat beautifully.” My voice was perfectly level. Julian’s smile froze. Cynthia’s practiced grin solidified in an instant. “What did you just say?” Julian’s voice dropped low. “I said they’re a good match.” I casually plucked a champagne flute from a servant’s silver tray, raised it slightly toward him. “Since you’re into that sort of thing, consider the tie my gift to him. A proper introduction present.” I turned and walked toward the dance floor. Behind me, Julian shot to his feet. His high-backed chair scraped against the floor with a piercing shriek. “Sarah, stop!” I didn’t break stride. For Julian’s sake, I had already exhausted every ounce of Grandpa’s patience. The token of our engagement—he’d given it away to a dog with his own hands. Six years of betrothal. It ended here.

After the gala, I returned to the townhouse in Midtown. This property was the wedding residence Grandpa had prepared for me. For the past few years, Julian had been the one living in it. I gathered the business documents from the marble coffee table, preparing to move out for good. The private elevator chimed open. Julian stumbled in, reeking of alcohol and Cynthia’s signature Jo Malone perfume. He yanked his collar open roughly and threw his suit jacket onto the leather sofa with a heavy thud. “What exactly was that about tonight?” He walked up to me, his frame completely blocking the overhead light. I placed the last document into my briefcase. “Nothing in particular. I just told the truth.” “Told the truth?” He let out a cold laugh, voice thick with derision. “Cynthia just thought the dog was cute! Did you have to embarrass her in front of all those socialites?” Julian lit a cigar. “Do you have any idea how long she cried tonight? She keeps blaming herself! She says it’s her fault you were unhappy at your own birthday party!” I looked him dead in the eye. “Julian, it was *my* birthday gala.” “So what?” He exhaled a plume of blue-gray smoke. “You’re the Claire heiress—you have everything! Cynthia only has me! I was just trying to make her happy. Do you really have to be this petty about it?” At that moment, the door swung open. Cynthia walked in wearing Julian’s shirt from earlier that day. Her eyes were rimmed red. “Julian, please don’t fight with Sarah because of me.” She tugged at his sleeve, voice choked with tears. “It’s my fault… I shouldn’t have said the tie was pretty. I’ve just never seen haute couture embroidery before…” Julian immediately took her hand, interlacing their fingers, and fixed me with an icy stare. “Did you hear that, Sarah? Even now, she’s still thinking of *you*!” Looking at their tightly clasped hands, I was suddenly struck by how absurd my six years of devotion had been. “There’s a whole stack of ties in the walk-in closet—all gifts I gave you over the years. Feel free to take every last one and put them on her dog. And this townhouse—consider it yours. Both of you can have it.” Julian stiffened for a moment, then scoffed. “Sarah, you’re pulling the running-away-from-home stunt again to threaten me? Let me remind you—last time, you came back *crying* and *begging* me to let you stay.” Cynthia lowered her head, the corner of her mouth curling into a smug little smile where she thought I couldn’t see. “Sarah, please don’t be angry. I’ll leave right now…” She made a show of rushing toward the door, but as she passed the coffee table, she “accidentally” caught its edge. “Ah!” She let herself tumble forward, falling neatly into Julian’s arms. Julian caught her, then wheeled on me with a snarl. “Why is this coffee table sticking out so far? You did that on purpose!” That Italian marble table weighed several hundred pounds. It hadn’t moved an inch since the day it was delivered. I couldn’t even be bothered to explain. Julian lowered Cynthia tenderly onto the sofa, half-kneeling to examine her knee. There was barely a faint red mark. “I’ll get an ice pack.” Julian stood. As he passed me, he slammed his shoulder hard into mine. I was wearing heels. The impact knocked me off balance, and I fell uncontrollably toward the wooden cabinet beside me. The corner of my forehead smashed against the cabinet’s hard, sharp edge. Warm liquid ran swiftly down my brow bone, blurring my vision. Julian paused, glanced back. “Quit the act.” He frowned, nothing in his eyes but irritation. “I barely touched you. Is that really enough to draw blood? Go get Cynthia an ice pack—her knee matters a hell of a lot more than you.” I pressed my hand to my forehead as blood kept flowing, seeping through the gaps between my fingers. On the sofa, Cynthia watched me. Her eyes glittered with triumph and spite. I braced myself against the cabinet and slowly straightened. Without sparing them another glance, I picked up my briefcase and walked into the private elevator. The late-night wind cut across my forehead, a cold so sharp it burned. He would never know that moment had severed the last thread between us.

The next morning. The top-floor boardroom of Claire Consortium. I sat in the CEO’s chair, gauze taped across my forehead. Julian pushed through the door, trailed by Cynthia clutching a folder—his personal assistant. He was the general manager of the consortium’s New York subsidiary. Cynthia was his secretary. When Julian noticed the gauze on my forehead, his stride faltered briefly. “What happened?” he said with a frown, his tone more annoyed than concerned. I opened the terminal data report in front of me. “Let’s begin your presentation, Julian. The board members’ time is valuable.” Julian’s expression darkened. He took the seat across from me. Halfway through the report, Cynthia’s hand trembled as she handed Julian his coffee. The entire cup of black coffee spilled across the original financial statement on the table. “I’m so sorry, Julian! I didn’t mean to…” She scrambled for napkins, tears falling on cue. Julian pressed her hand still. “It’s fine. It’s just a document. As long as it didn’t burn you.” He turned to me and ordered: “Sarah, have your secretary print a new copy and bring it in.” I capped my pen with a crisp *click*. “That document was reviewed and stamped by Swiss Trust and the SEC. It is the sole legally binding original.” Julian waved impatiently. “Then have your legal team redo the entire process! Cynthia was up until dawn helping me compile the data last night—she just slipped up. As a senior executive, you need to show some understanding toward your employees.” The entire boardroom sat in dead silence. Not a single director dared speak. I raised my head, fixing him with an ice-cold stare. “Julian, this is a workplace. Discuss business. Not personal affairs.” “You’re just targeting Cynthia!” Julian slammed the coffee-soaked document on the table. “It’s just a spreadsheet! As my fiancée, can’t you show an ounce of generosity?” Cynthia stepped forward, eyes red. “It’s all my fault. Please don’t blame Julian… I’ll go prepare a new set right now…” She spoke while bending to pick up fragments from the floor. Julian immediately stood to steady her, then roared at me: “Enough! Sarah! Look at yourself—this pettiness! Where is the dignity of a consortium heiress? Cynthia is sensitive by nature. If you give her some kind of psychological breakdown, can you bear that responsibility?!” I pressed the intercom button on the desk, my expression unchanged. “Send the corporate security team up.” Julian stared at me in disbelief. “What are you doing?” “Cynthia has committed gross negligence and destroyed a core legal document of this consortium, exposing us to incalculable compliance risk. She is terminated effective immediately.” Then I turned my gaze to Julian. “As for you—mixing personal matters with professional duties, severely disrupting board proceedings. Effective today, all your management responsibilities are suspended pending an internal review.” Julian laughed in fury, jabbing his finger at my face. “Sarah, to force me to grovel, you’d actually stoop to weaponizing your authority for personal vengeance?” “Fine—I’ll leave! Let’s see who can push this acquisition forward without me!” He grabbed Cynthia’s hand. “Cynthia, we’re leaving!” At the conference room door, Julian stopped and turned. “When you figure out how to be a proper fiancée, you can come beg me to come back.” The door slammed so hard the glass walls of the conference room shuddered. The wound on my forehead throbbed dully. I fed the ruined document into the shredder and opened the next file. “Let’s continue the meeting.” — Two days later. The corridor outside the VIP ward on the top floor of the medical center. Grandpa’s attending physician looked grave. “Mr. Claire’s heart is nearing complete failure. He needs bypass surgery performed immediately by Professor Ian from Switzerland. But the professor is currently at a classified research facility attending a symposium—all public communications have been severed. We’ve determined that the Gulfstream G650 registered under Julian’s name has special flight-path clearance. It is currently the only means of transport that can bring Professor Ian back in time.” I took out my phone. My fingertips trembled. I dialed Julian’s private number. The first attempt—rejected. The second—no answer. The third finally connected. Party music and cheering crowds blared through the speaker. “What?” Julian’s voice was laced with displeasure. “Julian, Grandpa’s had a cardiac emergency—he’s in critical care! We need your private jet to bring Professor Ian here!” I forced my voice to stay steady. “I’m begging you. Authorize the flight immediately!” Silence on the other end for a few seconds. Then Cynthia’s coy, syrupy voice floated through: “Julian, who is it? We’re supposed to watch the meteor shower tonight. If the plane gets sent away, we won’t be able to go… I’ve never seen a meteor shower from forty thousand feet…” Julian murmured tenderly: “Don’t worry, baby. A promise is a promise.” His voice turned cold again as he addressed me: “Sarah—to get me to come back, you’d actually lie about your own family’s health?” “I’m not lying! Grandpa is in the emergency room right now!” My voice shot up involuntarily. “Emergency room? Last month you said Grandpa had high blood pressure. Last week you said you cut your hand slicing an apple.” “Sarah, the same trick stops working after the third time.” Julian let out a cold laugh. “I already promised to take Cynthia on the jet tonight for the meteor shower.” “So—even if your Grandpa really is dying, there is absolutely no way I’m going back on my word!”

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My fiancé, Cassian, had prosopagnosia. He was always confusing me with my older sister, Seraphina. When I won the New York Youth Poetry Competition, he handed the bouquet to Seraphina instead. “I knew you had it in you. You’re brilliant.” When Seraphina shattered a six-figure antique wineglass at a Blackwood Foundation gala, he stepped in front of her. “It was Elowen. She’s always been clumsy and ignorant. She has no idea how to behave in decent company.” Countless times, I grabbed his sleeve and forced him to look me in the eyes. “Cassian, look carefully. I’m Elowen.” Eventually, I stopped wearing the red dresses Seraphina loved and gave up the pearls she favored. I replaced everything in my closet with shades of slate blue and forest green. I even styled my hair in ways she hated. But he still mistook me for her. Even on the day we were both getting married, he left with the wrong bride. In my last life, I slit my wrist outside the Vale residence because I was desperate to marry him. I forced my mother to cancel Seraphina’s family-arranged engagement to Adrian Blackwood. In the end, I moved into a house Cassian bought in the suburbs and became the mistress he kept hidden from the world. Then I hemorrhaged during childbirth at a private hospital. Seraphina had been admitted to the same hospital with abdominal pain, and Cassian mistook her for me, directing the emergency team to her room first. By the time a nurse realized the medical chart did not match the patient’s wristband, it was too late to save me. My baby died too. As I lay dying, he stood beside my bed and looked at me without a trace of warmth. “If there is a next life, stay out of my relationship with Seraphina. Then I won’t have to spend years pretending I can’t recognize faces.” When I opened my eyes again, it was my wedding day. Once again, Cassian had driven away with Seraphina. Adrian’s car was already waiting outside, and the Vale household was in chaos. No one dared admit that the bride named in the marriage agreement had disappeared. I opened the door. “I’ll marry him.” … The room fell silent. My mother recovered first. Her shoulders visibly relaxed. “You’ve finally come to your senses. Adrian has a terrible reputation, but the Blackwoods control banks, energy companies, and media outlets, and he alone runs the entire group. Marry him, and you’ll never want for money again.” In my last life, she had said the same thing after we discovered Cassian had taken the wrong bride. Everyone in New York’s business world knew Adrian was ruthless. Partners who betrayed him either went bankrupt or never secured another deal. They could not bear to make the delicate Seraphina marry a man like him, so they let Cassian “mistake” her for me. My mother straightened my veil and regained her composure. “Don’t blame Seraphina. Cassian’s condition acted up, and he took the wrong woman at the wedding. No one wanted this to happen.” “Besides, she has given you an excellent match. You should be grateful to her.” I almost laughed. Only an hour earlier, I had overheard Cassian and Seraphina talking. “Adrian drove a rival to suicide during that Eastern European acquisition. You’re too fragile to handle a man like him.” “The engagement is already public. If the Vales back out now, they’ll go bankrupt. I’ll pretend I mistook you for Elowen and take you to the St. Margaret Hotel. Once we register our marriage, Adrian won’t be able to force you to honor the original agreement.” Seraphina sniffled. “What about Elowen? She won’t actually marry Adrian in my place, will she?” Cassian was quiet for a moment before giving a confident laugh. “She won’t. She said she would never marry anyone but me. Once she realizes I left with you, she’ll probably tear the whole house apart.” “Your mother will stop her too.” “Once her arrangement with Adrian is void, I’ll buy her an apartment. She loves me so much she won’t care that she can never be my legal wife.” In my last life, I had been so excited to marry Cassian that I did not realize his car was missing until the ceremony was about to begin. I already knew the truth, but hearing it again still hurt. What shocked me more was that my mother had known from the beginning. I looked at her. “If you knew Cassian took the wrong woman, why didn’t you stop the car? Why did you wait for me to clean up the mess?” Her head snapped up, panic flashing in her eyes. “What are you talking about?” Then her expression hardened. “This marriage is tied to two billion dollars in financing. If no one marries into the Blackwood family today, Vale Group’s stock will be suspended tomorrow morning. If you make trouble, you’ll only hurt Seraphina, Cassian, and your father.” She had thought of everyone. Everyone except me. In my last life, I had used my life to stop the wedding, and Blackwood Group immediately withdrew its financing. Adrian later called off his retaliation, saving Vale Group from bankruptcy, but my mother locked me away for three months. She confiscated my phone and bank cards and told the public that I was mentally ill. Three months later, Cassian sent an assistant to take me to the house in the suburbs. He did not even show his face. I did not learn until I was dying that his supposed prosopagnosia had been a lie from the beginning. I looked at my mother and nodded calmly. “You don’t need to worry.” “I’m willing to marry Adrian.”

The wedding march began as Adrian and I walked out of the Vale residence together, my veil covering my face. He bent down and lifted me into the bridal car. I could not make out his expression through my veil, but I could hear how fast his heart was beating. The door closed, and the guests raised their glasses in celebration. Everyone was smiling. I alone sat amid the white roses filling the car, my hands and feet ice-cold. In my last life, I had refused the marriage in public, and Blackwood Group withdrew its financing from Vale Group that same day. Adrian later called off the acquisition, saving the Vale family’s company and suppressing the scandal that had swept across the internet. This time, as I sat in his car, I could not tell whether I felt afraid or relieved. But I knew one thing. Whatever lay ahead, I would never return to a home where I was constantly mistaken for someone else and forced to beg for the slightest consideration. I looked down at my wedding dress. Seraphina had rejected it because she disliked the cut at the waist. Even the embroidery on the veil was a pattern she hated. For the past three years, I had tried to make myself her complete opposite. She never wore forest green, so I filled my closet with it. She loved flashy jewelry, so I wore only the simplest silver pieces. Even then, Cassian still claimed he could not tell us apart. I once made him a matching bracelet, only to see Seraphina wearing it later. Even the engagement gifts meant for me had been handed to her by Cassian himself. Before the wedding, I pinned a brooch engraved with my name to my dress and begged him to look at it before I got into the car. Yet on our wedding day, he still left with Seraphina. In my last life, after I moved into his house, I once asked him through my tears, “I wore the wedding dress Seraphina hated most. How did you still mistake her for me?” He pulled me into his arms and kissed away my tears. “I’m sorry, Elowen. There were too many people that day. I was nervous.” “Thank God you still came back to me. If you had really married Adrian, I would have hated myself forever.” Those few words were enough to make me forgive him and forget every indignity I had suffered. Only now did I understand that every kindness he had shown me was an act. Before the car departed, my mother rested a hand on the door and warned me in a low voice, “Once you’re with Adrian, control your temper. Don’t make him angry.” What she truly feared was that I would expose the bride swap and implicate Seraphina and the Vale family. “Don’t worry.” I paused and looked at her through my veil. “You and Father should decide how you plan to explain deliberately switching the brides. I may keep quiet, but that doesn’t mean Adrian won’t find out.” My mother went pale. I shut the door and stopped looking at her. The rain began just as the motorcade pulled away from the Vale residence. Adrian’s black SUV drew alongside the bridal car. He lowered the window and signaled for the driver to slow down. “The rain is too heavy. There’s a private club up ahead. We’ll wait there for a while.” His tone was cool. “All right.” As long as I could leave the Vale family behind, I did not care where we went. When the motorcade arrived at the private club, however, Cassian’s car was already parked outside. I lowered my window and saw him.

Cassian was shielding Seraphina from the rain with his jacket, gazing at her with unmistakable tenderness. He had once looked at me that way. I loved the cherry pie from a bakery in Brooklyn, and he would stand in line for an hour to buy it for me. When I was hospitalized with a fever, he once canceled his meetings and stayed beside my bed all night. In the end, he used his supposed prosopagnosia as an excuse to give Seraphina everything that should have been mine. The night I hemorrhaged during labor, Seraphina was admitted with abdominal pain. Cassian deliberately told the emergency team that she was the pregnant patient. By the time the nurses corrected the chart and the doctors rushed back to my operating room, it was too late. “Elowen, don’t blame me,” he said, his eyes red. “Pretending I couldn’t tell you apart was exhausting. In our next life, stay out of my relationship with Seraphina.” The memory made my fingers turn cold. This time, I would not repeat the same mistake. Cassian visibly froze when he saw Adrian’s motorcade, then hurried over to greet him. Adrian gave him a single indifferent glance before walking to my car and helping me out himself. Cassian kept staring at me, as though trying to identify me. He did not come back to himself until Seraphina tugged on his arm. The club’s lounge was small. I sat by the floor-to-ceiling windows, only a few steps away from them, and heard every word they said. “Cassian, could that really be Elowen in that car?” “Impossible.” He did not hesitate. “She won’t marry him. She told me she would never marry anyone but me. There must be something else going on.” Seraphina readily agreed. “Exactly. If Elowen knew you had taken me, she would have caused a scene by now.” “She probably paid a woman with a similar figure to put on a veil and take her place at the wedding.” Cassian pressed his lips together, as if he had finally found an explanation he could accept. Seraphina studied his expression before asking cautiously, “If Adrian finds out that we switched the brides, will he force me to honor the arrangement? My name is the one on the agreement.” “I’m so scared.” She covered her face and began to cry. Cassian immediately pulled her into his arms. “Don’t be. I won’t let anyone take you away.” “If Elowen really hired a substitute and then tried to blame you, I’ll never forgive her. She can forget about ever coming back to me.” Seraphina leaned against his chest, her voice soft and aggrieved. “But if the truth comes out, the worst Elowen will lose is you. I’ll be forced to marry Adrian. Who knows what he’ll do to me?” Cassian’s expression turned cold. “If it comes to that, we’ll put all the blame on Elowen. It won’t matter whether she admits it.” “Everyone knows I’m face-blind. If anyone investigates, we’ll say it was an accident. No one can prove we switched you deliberately.” I sat only a few steps away and heard every word. It seemed Cassian had been behind those rumors in my last life too—the ones accusing me of marriage fraud and calling me mentally unstable. I clenched my skirt so tightly my fingertips almost went numb. Then Cassian suddenly looked in my direction. His gaze dropped to my wrist, and his expression changed. “Mr. Blackwood.” He spoke abruptly, barely concealing his panic. “The two brides come from the same family. According to a Vale family tradition, they should exchange an accessory before the ceremony as a blessing.” Cassian stared at my wrist. “The silver bracelet on your bride’s wrist is lovely. My wife happens to have an emerald brooch. Why not let them exchange the pieces for good luck?”

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Chapter 1 1 I was born with an incredibly thick skin. Some might call it a profound lack of awareness. In elementary school, the kids in my class would laugh in my face and call me an orphan. I’d just puff out my chest with pride. “That’s right! I’m the only orphan in the whole school! That makes me the coolest one here!” The principal walked by once and thought I was being bullied so badly my brain had broken. Furious, he called all their parents in. Those kids went home and got the grounding of a lifetime. In my sophomore year of high school, a guy decided to play a cruel prank on me by “confessing his love” and giving me a bouquet of yellow chrysanthemums—the kind you bring to a funeral. I smiled brightly and took them. “Thank you so much! How did you know yellow chrysanthemums were my favorite?!” From that day on, every single time I saw him in the hallway, I’d smile and wave, shouting, “I still really love those funeral flowers you got me!” For the next three years, he was known exclusively as “Funeral Flower Guy.” Later on, my extremely wealthy biological parents finally tracked me down and brought me home. On my very first day walking through the door, my adoptive sister, the “fake daughter,” purposefully threw herself to the floor right in front of me and screamed: “I’m sorry! Please don’t hurt me!” My parents and my older brother rushed over in a panic. Before they could even start blaming me, I clapped my hands in sudden realization. “Oh! You’re practicing for an acting audition! Wait, I didn’t get to do my part yet, let’s do another take!” I grabbed her arm, yanked her to her feet, and then violently shoved her right back onto the floor. Seeing how utterly calm and unbothered I was, my family nodded in relieved understanding. Sometime later, the whole family went to a high-society gala in New York. My adoptive sister lured me into a secluded hallway and shoved me into a dark room. Sitting in front of me was the legendary, ruthless underworld boss of the East Coast. On the floor was a bleeding, half-dead man. I gasped and covered my mouth. The boss narrowed his dangerous eyes and slowly walked toward me. I bounced on my toes in excitement. “Oh my god, this is my first time seeing a live movie set! Can I be an extra?!” … The man stopped dead in his tracks. His face was hidden in the shadows, making it impossible to read his expression. Only his eyes, sharp and intense, were visible, staring straight at me. It felt like he was studying my reaction. Julian Vance knew exactly what his reputation was. Ruthless, unpredictable, a man who killed without blinking an eye… And it was all completely true. As for the last person who walked in on him handling “business”? They had been shipped off to an offshore black site. He didn’t know if they were still alive. But they were definitely missing a few organs. He figured I was probably just acting out of sheer terror to save my own skin. Fine. He’d play along. He pointed a finger at the door behind me. “The door is unlocked. You can leave.” He was lying, of course. If I turned around and walked out, it would prove my “clueless excitement” was just an act. The second I took a step toward that door, his bodyguards would materialize from the shadows and pin me to the floor. What would follow would be a very cold, very painful interrogation. But he waited for several seconds, and I didn’t turn around. Instead, I walked further into the room and crouched down next to the injured man on the floor. I poked his arm with my finger, and my pale skin quickly came away stained with red. “Wow, is this that professional Hollywood fake blood? It looks so realistic!” The man on the floor coughed up a mouthful of blood and croaked, “Save… save me…” I stared at him in silence, then turned my head to look at the man standing behind me. “What’s my line supposed to be here?” “Should I say ‘You can do it,’ or ‘It’s no use’?” Julian’s eyebrow twitched upward. He snapped his fingers. Two men in black suits melted out of the shadows. They stuffed the guy on the floor into a duffel bag and dragged him out. While they were doing that, I was busy wandering around the room, looking for the camera crew. Sadly, I couldn’t find them. But I quickly figured it out. Oh, they must be using hidden cameras for that gritty, found-footage style! After the man was dragged away, the door clicked shut again. Julian sat down in a chair a few feet away. He asked, “What’s your name?” I paused for a second, then immediately snapped my legs together and pressed my hands flat against my sides. Head up, chest out, I projected my voice clearly: “My name is Serena Sterling! My greatest strengths are that I’m hardworking and can endure long hours. No matter what the role is, I am confident I can nail it! Please give me a chance, Director!” Julian’s mouth twitched. But what had just happened involved highly sensitive syndicate secrets. He couldn’t risk anyone finding out. So, he played along. “That scene you just witnessed… is highly confidential. You are not to speak of it to anyone.” I nodded solemnly. “I swear I won’t leak any spoilers!” With that, he waved his hand, dismissing me. My excitement instantly deflated. Looks like I didn’t get the part. After leaving the room, I made my way back to the main ballroom. I immediately spotted Chloe, my adoptive sister, excitedly chatting with some guests. I walked up and tapped her on the shoulder. She turned around, saw me, and nearly jumped out of her skin. She gasped, “You’re actually okay?!” 2 I let out a heavy sigh. “I know you went through a lot of trouble to get me this audition, but sadly, I didn’t get the part.” Chloe’s face contorted in confusion. She had no idea what I was talking about. She had paid a massive bribe just to get the intel that Julian Vance was handling a traitor in that exact room. The undisputed king of the East Coast underground didn’t tolerate mistakes. Anyone who walked in on a scene like that was either silenced permanently or shipped far, far away, never to set foot in the US again. She thought she had finally gotten rid of the thorn in her side. She never expected me to walk back out completely unharmed. She ground her teeth in frustration. Just then, a wave of hushed whispers rippled through the crowd. A man dressed entirely in black strode into the ballroom, surrounded by an aura of absolute dominance and the terrified respect of the guests. When I saw him, my eyes lit up. “It’s him! Chloe, you have to help me one more time!” “If you managed to get me a first audition, you can definitely pull some strings and get me a callback, right?!” “What?!” She frowned, completely lost. Before she could process what was happening, I grabbed her hand and dragged her straight toward Julian. Seeing me, he stopped his conversation with the people around him. I nervously fidgeted with my fingers and said sheepishly: “Um, Director… could you please, for Chloe’s sake, give me one more chance?” “She pushed me into the room so suddenly earlier, I was too nervous and didn’t prep properly. I promise I’ll do way better next time!” After saying that, I flashed him the most innocent, harmless smile I could muster. Julian’s lips curved into a smirk, but his eyes were completely devoid of warmth. “You’re saying… she was the one who pushed you into that room?” “Yeah, exactly! Chloe was the one who pulled strings to get me this opportunity!” The moment those words left my mouth, all the color drained from Chloe’s face. She froze in place, her legs practically giving out. But she desperately tried to clear her name: “Y-you’re lying! Stop making things up! I don’t know anything! I’ve been in the ballroom this whole time, I had no idea where you went!” I laughed. “Oh, stop it! You literally said you were taking me to see something really cool, but I had no idea you had set up a surprise audition for me!” After all, I had been obsessed with acting since I was a little kid. Chloe always talked trash to me, but deep down, she was actually super supportive! I know she’s just a tough-love kind of girl, hehe. Chloe panicked. “I can find people to prove I was here!” She grabbed one of her rich friends, demanding the girl confirm they had been standing together since they walked into the ballroom. The friend, who had already been bribed by Chloe beforehand, was just about to nod. Then she looked up and realized the person asking the questions was Julian Vance. Her knees buckled. She stammered something about feeling dizzy and sprinted away as fast as she could. Chloe stomped her foot in pure, unfiltered rage. Compared to my total lack of anxiety, Chloe’s blatant, terrified guilt looked infinitely more suspicious. Julian wasn’t an idiot. He saw exactly what was going on. It seemed this woman had used some very shady methods to find out his schedule. But there were too many people in the ballroom, so it wasn’t the time to handle it. Instead, he smiled at me and said, “I can give you one more chance. I’ll send you the details.” I nodded enthusiastically. After Julian walked away, Chloe let out a massive breath she had been holding. She glared daggers at me. “Serena Sterling, you almost got me killed!” I looked at her, totally confused. “Huh?” A few seconds later, it hit me. “Ohhh! Did you secretly sneak me onto his audition list even though you don’t actually know him? No wonder he looked at you so weirdly! My bad, my bad.” Chloe stormed off, cursing under her breath. I was still standing there, doing some earnest self-reflection. Yeah, I should probably explain things to him next time so he doesn’t hold it against her. Three days later, a formal invitation bearing the Vance family crest was delivered to the Sterling estate. 3 Julian had invited me to dinner at an exclusive restaurant this Saturday at 7:00 PM. My entire family was completely shocked. And then, deeply terrified. Julian Vance’s power in New York was absolute, and his temper was notoriously unpredictable. Someone once said the wrong thing in front of him at a party. By the next morning, their entire company was bankrupt. Meanwhile, my brain was so hopelessly oblivious that if someone held a knife to my throat, I would probably just smile and say, “Wow, that knife looks so realistic!” My dad paced the floor in distress. My mom was practically in tears. My older brother just kept sighing. Only Chloe covered her mouth to hide a smug smile. She assumed Julian had finally realized what happened and was planning to dispose of me. I was completely baffled by their reactions. “I’m going to a callback audition. You guys should be happy for me.” Terrified that my parents might actually try to stop me, Chloe quickly chimed in: “Exactly! Mom, Dad, Serena is really just going for an audition. Who knows, maybe Mr. Vance will be in a good mood and cast her as the lead! Besides, Mr. Vance personally sent the invitation. We can’t exactly say no, can we?” Rejecting the undisputed king of the underworld was obviously not an option. Even though the Sterling family’s main business operations were in the Midwest, we still had significant investments on the East Coast. If we wanted to survive, we absolutely could not offend Julian Vance. After agonizing over it, my family had no choice but to accept it. They held my hands tightly, pleading with me: “Serena… please, please watch what you say and do.” I nodded firmly. If I want to nail this callback, I really need to bring my A-game! On Saturday, right before I left the house, Chloe pulled me into a secluded corner. Sneakily, she pressed a small, spring-loaded switchblade into my hand. She whispered conspiratorially, “I got this prop specifically for you! I heard the movie they’re casting for is an action thriller. If you whip this out during your audition, it will definitely impress him!” I squeezed her hand, deeply moved. “Thank you so much for going out of your way for me! I won’t let you down!” Watching me walk to the car, Chloe finally let out a dark laugh. “What an absolute idiot. Pulling a knife on Julian Vance? You’re a dead woman walking.” The reservation was for 7:00 PM. I arrived at the private dining room ten minutes early. To my surprise, Julian was even earlier. He was already sitting at the table. As soon as I walked in, he offered me a seat and asked what I wanted to eat. I said earnestly, “I’m fine with whatever, but when does our audition start?” He moved his eyes from the menu to my face. He realized I was being completely serious. I wasn’t joking. A look of genuine amusement crossed his face. After all, he had never met anyone quite as remarkably oblivious as me in his entire life. He set the menu down. “We can start right now.” I looked around the room. The men in black suits who were playing the bodyguards in the dark room weren’t here. Right now, it was just me and Julian in this private dining room. Looks like this is going to be a one-on-one scene reading. And there’s no script… this must be an improv test. Remembering what Chloe said about this being an action movie, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the switchblade, pointing the blade directly at Julian. I darkened my eyes, dropping my voice an octave, letting an aura of icy hostility wash over me as I sneered: “Julian Vance… today is the day you die!” The amused look on Julian’s face vanished instantly, replaced by something dangerously dark. His hand instinctively moved toward the holster strapped to his thigh. But before he could draw his weapon, the door to the private room was violently kicked open. A figure lunged into the room, a gun pointed squarely at Julian’s head. “Julian Vance… today is the day you die!” I froze. Huh? The exact same line? Damn it! Is this guy trying to steal my scene?! Doesn’t he see my audition isn’t over yet?! Julian’s heart dropped, a surge of lethal violence rising in his chest. One crisis right after another. He immediately assumed I was working with the gunman. His hand gripped the handle of his gun, fully prepared to send both of us to hell. But before he could draw, I moved with lightning speed, charging straight at the man with the gun. Before the assassin could even register what was happening, I tackled him to the floor. I kicked the gun out of his hand, pinned him down with my body weight, and pressed the switchblade against his throat. “Talk! Who sent you?!” 4 The assassin’s attention had been entirely focused on Julian. He hadn’t even noticed there was someone else in the room. And he definitely hadn’t expected me to have combat training. The sheer intensity radiating off me was terrifying. The tip of the blade was millimeters from piercing his skin. Terrified, he spilled everything. After coughing up the name of his employer, he was dragged away by Julian’s real bodyguards. Julian sat in silence for a long time before finally speaking: “Weren’t you afraid he was going to shoot you?” I cheered internally. He’s finally giving me my cue! Leaning into the dramatic tension of the scene, I said in my coolest voice: “No one touches you… except me.” Julian stared at me deeply for a moment, then laughed. “Very good. You got the part.” After that, I went home, blissfully waiting for the production team to send me the shooting schedule. Instead, what arrived was a formal marriage proposal from Julian Vance. My parents read the official document over and over again. They verified the Vance family seal. It wasn’t a fake. My entire family stared at me in absolute, utter shock. Chloe’s jaw practically hit the floor. When I had come home from the restaurant completely unharmed, she had been furious. She asked if I had chickened out and refused to pull the knife like she told me to. I told her I did pull the knife, and that my performance was spectacular. She had looked completely defeated. Even though Julian’s reputation was terrifying, his power was undeniable. He practically owned New York. There were countless elite families across the country who would kill for a marriage alliance with the Vance family. And now, this golden ticket had just been hand-delivered to our doorstep. But my parents still asked for my opinion. Without even looking up from my phone, I said, “Sure, why not.” Even though we had only met twice, I had a pretty good impression of him. Especially since he recognized my acting talent! It’s hard to find a director who truly understands your vision! So, my parents immediately sent a formal acceptance back to the Vance family, and the engagement date was set shortly after. When news broke that I was marrying Julian Vance, a flood of elite families rushed over to congratulate me, desperately trying to get on my good side. The gifts they brought filled an entire spare bedroom. Chloe was so jealous she was grinding her teeth in her sleep. Every day, she would whisper ominous warnings in my ear: “Serena, you have no idea what you’re doing. Julian Vance kills people for fun! If he gets annoyed, he takes it out on the people closest to him. You’re walking straight into the lion’s den!” “I’m telling you, back out now! But we can’t exactly reject the Vance family… how about this? I’ll make the ultimate sacrifice. I’ll go in your place…” My eyes widened in horror. “I could never let you do that! If it’s really that dangerous, there is no way I’m letting you take my place! You’re my best friend!” Chloe looked like she was going to cough up blood. And just like that, the day of the engagement party arrived. It was held at the Vance family’s private estate. There were thousands of guests, basically every powerful figure on the East Coast. I was placed in a luxurious suite on the second floor, waiting for the moment I would walk down the grand staircase with Julian. Soon, it was just me and Chloe left in the room. She glared at me for a moment, then suddenly walked over, plastering on a sweet smile, and handed me a small vial. “Serena, I did some digging. Julian has a massive sweet tooth, but he hates showing it in front of people. He always sneaks something sweet into his drinks. With so many people here today, it’ll be hard for him to do it himself. Why don’t you pour this syrup into his glass for him?” I took the vial without a second thought. After watching me personally empty the contents of the vial into Julian’s champagne glass, Chloe smirked in satisfaction and slipped out of the room. A few moments later, Julian appeared, and we walked down the grand staircase together. Julian took the glass of champagne from my hand and raised it to his lips. Suddenly, Chloe leaped out from the crowd, her face a mask of sheer terror, screaming: “Don’t drink that! It’s poisoned!” The ballroom erupted in chaos. Julian frowned deeply. “How do you know it’s poisoned?” Chloe pointed a dramatic finger directly at me. “I saw her put something in your glass with my own eyes!” With that, she cast a video feed from her phone onto the massive screens in the ballroom. The footage clearly showed me emptying a small vial of clear liquid into Julian’s champagne glass. Julian’s face instantly went dark. He grabbed my wrist, his grip like a vice. I let out a soft yelp of pain. The bodyguards stationed around the room instantly moved in, forming a tight circle around me. The guests looked at me with pity, clearly believing I was a dead woman walking. Chloe continued, her voice dripping with triumphant malice: “I just found the empty vial she threw in the trash! I had the residual liquid tested—it contains a lethal neurotoxin! One sip, and you would be dead in under an hour! Your internal organs would liquefy!” “Serena Sterling, how could you be so evil?!” But just as Chloe finished her dramatic speech, a collective gasp rippled through the crowd. On the massive screens, the video continued playing. After pouring the “poison” into the glass, I muttered to myself: “Will it really make it sweet? If I just take a tiny sip, nobody will notice, right?” And in the next second, I lifted the glass and took a sip. Simultaneously, in the real world, my vision went completely black. I collapsed heavily onto the marble floor. My family rushed forward in a panic. “Serena!” Julian, his face turning pale, caught me as I fell and roared, “Get a doctor! Now!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “534526”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Chapter 1 On the eve of my wedding, I decided to play a little prank. I called Julian, pretending to be my eighteen-year-old self from the past, trying to make a “time-travel call.” My voice was full of bright, bubbly anticipation: “Julian! How are we doing at twenty-seven? Are we getting married? Are we… happy?” The other end of the line was silent for a long time. Then, Julian’s exhausted voice came through: “Not great.” “Sarah… my whole life is ruined because of you.” “I’m begging you. If there’s another parallel universe out there… let me go.” I froze. I genuinely thought I had misheard him. When I finally snapped out of it, I called my mom, crying uncontrollably. “Mom, I…” “I know,” my mom interrupted, letting out a weary, sympathetic sigh. “You’re playing the eighteen-year-old Sarah.” “Julian has had it so hard. He and your sister have been desperately in love for five years. Because of you, they’ve had to suppress their feelings this whole time.” “Sarah, listen to me. In your next life, just step aside and let him and your sister be together.” The tears turned ice-cold on my face. My hands shook violently as I finally dialed my sister’s number. She was panting heavily on the other end, clearly intertwined with Julian. She let out a suppressed, agonizing sob: “Sarah… please forgive me. It’s just for tonight. He’s only mine for tonight.” “I promise I will never fight you for him in this life. I just beg you… in the next life, please let me have him.” Tears streamed silently down my face as I hung up the phone. My heart completely flatlined. Whatever. There was no need to wait for a next life or a parallel universe. I’d let them be together in this one. … Julian didn’t come back until the next morning. He brought with him the faint scent of rose body wash, and the tips of his hair were still damp. As he took off his jacket and hung it up, he threw a casual glance at me. “Why are you up so early?” “Couldn’t sleep,” I replied calmly. I paused for a second before continuing. “Julian, let’s call off the wedding.” He froze, turning to look at my slightly red, swollen eyes. “Are you… joking?” “I played a game last night,” I said, staring straight at him. “A game called ‘Time-Travel Phone Call’.” Julian’s hand stopped mid-air. He looked at me, and the color slowly drained from his face. “Sarah… you tested me?” I let out a bitter, self-deprecating laugh. I hadn’t expected his accusation to arrive before an explanation. “If I hadn’t tested you, was I supposed to just play the idiot for the rest of my life?” “Julian.” My eyes burned red. “Are the two of you actually disgusting?” Smack. A sharp slap threw my face to the side. I covered my cheek, completely stunned. Julian looked down at his own hand, clearly shocked himself. It seemed he hadn’t even expected to hit me. He pressed his lips into a hard line, pulled his hand back, and looked at me with dark, heavy eyes: “Sarah, if you have ugly things to say, aim them at me. I won’t let anyone insult her.” Every drop of blood in my body rushed to my head. With blazing red eyes, I raised my hand and slapped him back with everything I had. “Who the hell gave you the right to hit me?!” “Julian, not even my own parents have ever laid a hand on me!” But the slap never landed. Julian caught my wrist in a vice-like grip. He let out a cold, mocking laugh. “Your parents?” “Your parents know everything about me and your sister. Did you know that?” “Last Thanksgiving, when you came home, you hadn’t even sat down before your mom dragged you out to go shopping, and your dad said he was going to buy you a pie.” He leaned in close, his tone dripping with cruel amusement: “Your entire family was covering for us.” It felt like I had been struck by lightning. I snapped my head up, staring at him in absolute disbelief. He let go of my wrist with a look of pure contempt. “Wake up, Sarah.” “If I were you, I would take advantage of whatever shred of guilt I still have left as your future husband.” “Because, frankly, not even your own parents love you.” I collapsed onto the floor, tears streaming down my face. “Why…” I forced my head up, my voice barely a whisper. “Why would you do this to me?” “Julian,” my voice trembled. “I’m not someone who clings to things that aren’t mine.” “If you were dead set on being with my sister, I could accept it! We could break up, cancel the wedding, and you could go marry her!” “Why did you all have to hide it from me? Why did everyone gang up to deceive me?!” “Go be with her! Why are you still marrying me?!” I screamed through my tears, feeling a despair so profound it felt like my heart was dying. He looked down at me from above. After a long silence, he let out a cold scoff. “Why do you think? Do you really think it’s because I love you?” He leaned down, wiping a tear from my chin, and let out a sound of disgusted pity. “Sarah. Chloe is your older sister. She’s a divorced single mother. Her life is hard enough as it is.” “I don’t want to subject her to any more gossip or judgment from outsiders.” “If we called off our wedding, and then I turned around and got with your sister, how do you think your relatives would look at her?” “So.” He gripped my shoulders, his voice sickeningly gentle and infinitely cruel. “Sarah, I can’t bear to let her suffer, so you’ll have to take the fall.” I stared at him in horror, an icy chill seeping into my bones. “You mean… you’re using our marriage as a smokescreen so you can be with my sister?” “Smart girl,” he said, affectionately tapping my nose. “So you’re going to play along, right?” I violently slapped his hands away, my anger boiling over. “Julian, what makes you think I would ever play along and just let you manipulate me like a puppet?” “Because you will,” he smiled, pulling a folded piece of paper from his pocket and dropping it in front of me. “You had a checkup last week. You’re pregnant.” “Sarah, this is our baby. Our first baby. You conceived it while you were full of hope for our marriage, right at the peak of your love for me.” “You wouldn’t have the heart to bring a fatherless child into the world, would you?” “Besides, you love me so much. We’ve been together for ten years. You gave me your entire youth. Do you really have the guts to cancel the wedding?” “Even if you did, who’s going to want a pregnant woman?” I picked up the ultrasound report, my hands shaking so violently I could barely hold it. Tears cascaded down, blurring my vision. I suddenly burst out laughing, the tears splashing onto the paper: “Julian… you are truly vicious.” He smiled, reaching out to stroke my hair. It was a gesture of maximum, tender cruelty: “Be a good girl, Sarah. You don’t have a choice.” “And remember, do not let your sister know that you found out. I don’t want Chloe feeling any psychological burden. Understood?” I looked at his threatening, fiercely protective expression. It was like I was looking at a complete stranger. He stood up smoothly and stepped right over me without a second glance. I rushed into the bathroom and threw up into the toilet until my stomach was empty. An overwhelming, suffocating nausea crawled up my throat. I couldn’t tell anymore if it was my stomach burning, or my heart. I kneeled on the cold tile floor, trembling uncontrollably, crying and laughing at the same time. Finally, I mechanically picked up my phone, stopped the voice recording app, and saved the entire conversation. Then, I booked an appointment for the earliest available abortion. Julian was wrong. I did have a choice. I just had to be more vicious, and more ruthless, than he was. The next day was supposed to be the day we went to the courthouse to sign our marriage license. Julian called me multiple times. I didn’t answer a single one. Finally, my sister called me. “Sarah.” Her tone was gentle, tinged with a slight, playful scolding. “Today is the day you get your license. How could you throw a tantrum and just not show up?” “Did you get into a fight with Julian? Don’t worry, big sister will scold him for you. Just come over and get the license first, okay?” I listened to her voice in a daze. It was impossible to reconcile this woman with the one moaning into the phone with Julian just two nights ago. I desperately wished that night had just been a terrible nightmare. I wished I could wake up and she would still be my loving, gentle older sister. And Julian would still be the man I relied on with all my heart. Unfortunately… I leaned back against the hospital bed and spoke in a hoarse voice: “I’m sick. I can’t make it.” “Tell Julian we’ll do it another day.” I hung up before she could respond. Then, I opened the synchronized feed from Julian’s dashcam. The footage stabilized, showing Julian and my sister sitting in his car. Chloe looked worried. “Julian, what’s wrong with Sarah? Why is she suddenly throwing a fit?” “Do you think she found out about us…” “No way.” Julian leaned over and pecked her on the lips. “She’s too stupid. How could she know?” “And even if she did, she wouldn’t dare do anything,” he stated confidently. “Chloe, I promise I will never let you get hurt.” Chloe still looked anxious. “But if she won’t sign the license, what are we going to do…” “If she won’t sign it, she won’t sign it. The wedding ceremony will still happen. We just need to put on a show for everyone.” Julian said lazily. Suddenly, he looked at Chloe with intense seriousness: “Chloe, let’s get married.” Chloe stared back blankly: “What did you just say?” Julian pulled her into his arms. “I’ll give the ceremony to her, and the marriage license to you.” “From now on, you are my true wife.” Off-camera, I stopped breathing. I already knew they were dirty. But actually watching the man I once loved unconditionally use that same face to say those exact words to another woman—my own sister—my heart still physically ached. On screen, Chloe’s eyes gradually reddened. She nodded instinctively, then frantically shook her head: “No… no, we’ve already wronged Sarah so much. This… this is too cruel to her.” “If you reject me, isn’t that cruel to me?” he leaned closer. “Chloe, are you really going to give me up just for your sister?” Chloe looked at him, her expression torn with agony. Finally, as if making a monumental decision, she nodded. “Okay. Let’s go get the license.” “Even if we have to annul it or get divorced later, I’ll accept it.” She looked at him, tears in her eyes, looking like a martyr going to her death. “Julian, for this lifetime… at least we got to be husband and wife once.” They gazed deeply into each other’s eyes, kissed passionately, inseparable. Off-camera, I cried until I couldn’t see. This was the sister I thought loved me the most. The man I thought loved me the most. Blood ties, eternal vows… it was all a joke. And I was the punchline. I closed my eyes and let the nurses wheel me into the operating room. Three days later, the day of the wedding arrived. I sat in front of the vanity mirror, watching my mother brush my hair. Her expression was gentle and loving. There was absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. I suddenly asked her, “Mom, do you think I’ll be happy?” Her hand paused for a fraction of a second. She met my eyes in the mirror, her gaze a mix of what could have been blame, or perhaps resignation. “Sarah, you’re marrying the man you love most in the world. How could you not be happy?” “Just think about your sister…” She stopped herself, unable to finish the sentence. I forced a tight smile. If I didn’t know the truth, I probably would have assumed she meant my sister’s unhappy first marriage. But now, I knew exactly what she meant. She was saying that I had stolen my sister’s happiness. I had stolen my sister’s true love. I always knew my parents favored Chloe. They always used to say that having one boy and one girl was the perfect family. Chloe was the “girl” in that perfect family, but I wasn’t the “boy”. I just never realized how deep their favoritism went. Deep enough to help their oldest daughter have an affair with their youngest daughter’s fiancé. Without a shred of guilt. In fact, they flipped the script, making it seem like I was the one ruining her life. “You’re right,” I sighed softly. “I’m marrying the man I love most.” “But do you think he loves me just as much?” “Mom.” I tilted my head to look up at her. “Do you love me as much as I love you?” My mother froze. For a split second, I clearly saw panic flash in her eyes. But she quickly composed herself. “Of course,” she smiled warmly, her mask flawless. “No one in the world loves you more than your mother.” “It’s just… your sister hasn’t had your luck in life. I can’t help but want to coddle her a little more.” My heart turned to ice. They were watching me walk into a sham marriage with a cheater. They all conspired to hide the truth from me. And yet, she had the nerve to say I had “luck in life.” Meanwhile, my sister and Julian had already secretly signed their marriage license. She was his legal wife. But because they had to hide to avoid public scrutiny and couldn’t parade their relationship around openly—she was the unlucky one. How could a human heart be this warped? “Sarah,” she added, her tone suddenly vague. “I need to tell you something. Nothing in this world is perfect, and there is no such thing as a flawless marriage.” “Sometimes, just being content and not asking for too much… that’s a blessing too. Do you understand?” A mocking smirk ghosted across my lips. Was this really a mother’s heartfelt advice to her daughter? Or was it a preemptive strike? A warning that if I ever discovered anything in the future, I shouldn’t make a scene. That I should just turn a blind eye, and we could all go on living our lives. I lowered my head, hiding my icy expression. “I understand.” My mother nodded in satisfaction and went downstairs to greet the guests. I slowly opened the drawer and gripped the flash drive tightly in my palm. The sound of firecrackers erupted outside. The wedding convoy had arrived. The bridesmaids laughed and rushed to barricade the door, part of the traditional wedding games. Only my sister didn’t move. She stayed quietly by my side. I looked into her eyes. Her makeup was slightly smudged. She had been crying. She was wearing a long, flowing white dress. It looked nothing like the other bridesmaids’ dresses. It looked more like a wedding gown. The groomsmen laughed and shoved against the door from the outside, finally forcing it open. Julian burst in, laughing, looking triumphant and handsome. He took a massive stride forward. He walked right past me and scooped Chloe up into his arms. The bridesmaids gasped in shock. A few of the groomsmen, completely oblivious, laughed loudly and slapped his shoulder: “Wrong girl, Julian! You grabbed the wrong girl! The bride is on the bed!” “Just because the sister looks like the bride doesn’t mean you can run off with her!” Everyone chuckled good-naturedly. Julian slowly lowered Chloe to the floor, gazing at her with deep affection. “You’re right. I grabbed the wrong one.” He turned to me, his eyes crinkling into a smile, but carrying a distinct threat: “Sarah, you don’t mind, do you?” I looked at him, my fingernails digging painfully into my palms. Only I knew what he really meant. He was saying that marrying me was grabbing the wrong girl. He hadn’t made a mistake just now. From the very beginning, the one he wanted to hold was my sister. “I don’t mind.” My voice was so calm it surprised even me. He smirked, clearly satisfied that I was playing along. As we were leaving the house, I held the train of my dress and moved to get into the backseat of the bridal car. Julian, already sitting in the back, shot me a look and ordered: “Get out. You sit in the front. Let Chloe sit in the back.” I paused, looking up at him. The bride sitting in the passenger seat while the groom and the bridesmaid sat in the back? That was completely unheard of. He was intentionally humiliating me. “Why?” I gripped the door frame. “Do I really need to give you a reason?” He sneered. “Your sister gets carsick easily. Is that enough?” Carsick? Everyone knows that people who get carsick sit in the front seat. Several of the groomsmen and relatives exchanged amused, gossipy glances. My parents stood nearby, completely ignoring the scene, acting as if they hadn’t heard a thing. Julian smiled, leaning in close and lowering his voice: “Baby, for the sake of the child in your belly, just endure it for a bit. I promise you’re still the star of the show today.” “But you didn’t think getting me was going to be completely smooth sailing, did you?” The child. He was still using the child as a bargaining chip? I stared into his eyes and gave a chilling smile. “Alright.” I silently picked up my dress, closed the back door, and got into the passenger seat alone. My sister, without a word or even a glance in my direction, brazenly slid into the backseat right next to Julian. She even deliberately bumped my shoulder as she walked past, as if to make a point. Between a man and her sister, she always chose the man. When they slept together, when they signed the marriage license, and now. The convoy started moving toward the wedding hall. In the rearview mirror, I watched them secretly holding hands, their fingers intertwined, gripping each other tightly. Chloe’s expression was grave. She turned her head away, fighting back tears. Julian looked at her with pure, unadulterated heartbreak. What a pair of star-crossed lovers. I coldly looked away. Cry all you want. In a little while, I’ll give you exactly what you want. … Finally, it was time for the ring exchange at the altar. Chloe carried the ring box, walking elegantly down the aisle. The guests seated on both sides were whispering amongst themselves. “Why is the bridesmaid wearing white? Isn’t she clashing with the bride’s dress?” “Yeah, if you didn’t know better, you’d think she was the bride.” “She just wants attention. Who knows…” It was just idle gossip. No one truly cared. Julian took the women’s ring and slid it onto my ring finger. It was loose. It wasn’t my size. I looked down at the ring and suddenly spoke up: “This isn’t my ring.” Julian frowned in deep annoyance: “Sarah, stop making a scene. We’re in the middle of the ceremony.” I looked up at him, raising my voice, articulating every single syllable: “I said, this is not my ring.” In the next second, I grabbed my sister’s hand and shoved the ring onto her finger. The cameraman happened to be getting a close-up shot of the hands. On the massive screens behind us, everyone in the hall saw it clearly. The wedding band fit my sister’s ring finger perfectly. Flawlessly. A collective gasp echoed through the room. Chloe’s face went ghost white. She struggled to pull her hand away, but I held it in a vice grip. Julian glared at me, his face ugly, dropping his voice to a threatening whisper: “Sarah, are you out of your damn mind?!” “Think about the child in your belly! Do you want it to be born without a father?!” “Do you want to end up a pregnant, abandoned single mother?!” He sneered, absolutely certain he had won: “You better use your brain before you do something stupid.” “Ruining this wedding does neither of us any good.” “It does you no good,” I corrected him helpfully. “What?” He paused. “You’re the one who needs this marriage as a smokescreen, not me.” “And that child won’t be born without a father.” “Because,” my smile turned to ice, “it’s not going to be born at all.”

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Chapter 1 At our daughter’s seventh birthday party, she was just about to call for her dad to cut the cake. Instead, my husband shoved her away, hard, right in front of everyone. “Don’t call me that! I’m not your dad!” He slammed a DNA paternity test down onto the table. I was completely blindsided, unable to defend myself, and my own parents slapped me across the face right then and there. The newly found “true daughter” of the family shrank into my husband’s arms, her eyes red, playing the innocent victim. “I’m so sorry, Sarah… I just made an offhand comment about how Lily didn’t really look like Julian… I had no idea he would actually go and get a test…” From that moment on, I was branded a whore, and my daughter became the bastard child everyone spat on. Later, when Julian demanded a divorce, I begged him—for Lily’s sake—to take just one more paternity test. But then, I accidentally overheard a conversation between him and his friend. “You framed your own wife as a cheater and reduced Lily to a bastard just to help Chloe vent her anger… Aren’t you worried your wife and kid are actually going to leave you over this?” Julian’s tone was entirely careless. “What’s there to be afraid of? My in-laws know the paternity test is fake too.” “It’s her own fault for being the fake daughter and stealing Chloe’s life for all those years. Once Chloe feels like the score is settled, I’ll just remarry her.” “Sarah can’t live without me. Even if we divorce, she’ll just sit around waiting for me.” Thinking of Lily crying and asking me if her daddy really didn’t want her anymore… I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug into my palms. The next day, without shedding a single tear or causing a scene, I calmly went to the courthouse and finalized our divorce. But what he didn’t know was that the moment I walked out of that building, I turned right around and signed a different marriage certificate. Standing outside the door, listening to Julian’s careless, arrogant words, I could barely stay on my feet. His friend tried to say something else, but Julian interrupted with a light laugh. “That’s enough. When the time comes, I’ll just pretend I didn’t know.” “I’ll just say the hospital mixed up the samples. I guarantee she’ll come running right back to me.” I leaned heavily against the wall, my heart violently seizing in my chest. Just a few hours ago, Lily had come home from school crying. Her usually pristine uniform was covered in mud, and her knees were scraped raw and bleeding. I called her teacher, only for her to coldly demand that we transfer schools. “Lily’s mom, are you really going to make me spell this out for you?” “Your own private life is a scandalous mess, and everyone in town knows about it. What kid in this school doesn’t know she’s an illegitimate child with no father?” “The other parents are extremely upset about this. It’s putting the school in a very difficult position.” When she hung up, I held my trembling daughter, my heart feeling like it was being sliced into ribbons. She looked up at me, her little face covered in tear tracks, and asked: “Mommy… if I really am Daddy’s baby, will he… will he like me again?” It was because of those words that I swallowed every last drop of my pride and came to find Julian again. To beg him to take another paternity test. But I never, ever expected to stand outside this door and hear something so utterly malicious. To him, publicly forging a paternity test to destroy my reputation was just a trivial matter. And the humiliation and abuse that Lily and I had suffered were nothing more than a staged play he directed to appease another woman. Even my adoptive parents—the people who always claimed to love me the most—were accomplices in this twisted game. I closed my eyes in profound agony. Inside the room, their laughter continued. His friend sounded slightly hesitant: “But Lily… I saw her running out of school earlier today crying while a bunch of kids called her a bastard. Can you really stand to see her suffer like that?” “If she finds out the truth, what if she refuses to acknowledge you as her father?” Julian’s voice dripped with the arrogance of a man who believed he controlled everything. “Kids have short memories. So what if she suffers a little right now?” “Besides, she’s my biological daughter. Blood is thicker than water. Do you really think she’s ever going to actually disown her own father?” I clenched my hands, my nails digging so deep into my flesh I should have bled, but I couldn’t feel the pain. In the past, I would have kicked the door open and screamed at him. But this time, I just turned around in eerie silence. This divorce was happening. I packed a few changes of clothes, took Lily by the hand, and went back to the Sterling family home. In the past, whenever I came to visit, my parents would come out to greet me with huge smiles before I even reached the front door. But this time, the disgust in my mother’s voice was completely undisguised. “What are you doing here?” “Mom… I have nowhere else to go. I just wanted to bring Lily here for one night.” My mother sneered. “The Sterling estate isn’t a homeless shelter. Don’t bring your bad luck into this house.” My chest tightened painfully. Lily peeked out from behind my legs, her voice timid and soft. “Grandpa! Grandma!” She waited expectantly, just like she always did, for them to pick her up and hug her. But their faces remained freezing cold. “Don’t call us that. We don’t have trashy relatives like you.” It felt like someone had taken a baseball bat to my head. I stood frozen in place. Just a few days ago, we were a family. How had we devolved to the point where we weren’t even considered relatives? In my memories, my dad used to lift me over his head and declare that Sarah was the crown jewel of the Sterling family. My mom used to burst with pride, bragging to anyone who would listen about how accomplished her daughter was. But ever since Chloe came back, all their love and affection seemed to vanish overnight. The projects I was managing were stripped from me, one by one. The business connections and resources I had painstakingly built over years were slowly transferred to Chloe’s name. At the time, I comforted myself by saying Chloe was their biological daughter, their true blood. It was only natural they wanted to compensate her. But now, I finally understood. They hated me. They hated me for taking up space, for effortlessly living the life that was supposed to belong to Chloe. Julian’s cruel words echoed in my ears. To help Chloe vent her anger… they had actually greenlit this entire slanderous charade, mercilessly grinding me and Lily into the dirt. Thinking of this, I forced down the churning emotions in my chest and cautiously tested the waters: “What if… what if there was something wrong with that paternity test? What if the results were fake?” My mother paused for a fraction of a second. “The evidence is irrefutable, and you’re still trying to lie your way out of it?” My father glared at me coldly. “Everyone saw it. You’ve dragged the Sterling family’s reputation through the mud.” “If a paternity test isn’t enough proof for you, what is? Do we have to catch you in bed with another man before you admit it?” A bone-chilling cold swept through my heart. They knew perfectly well it was all fake. Yet, in this very moment, they were still using the most venomous language to curse me, aggressively nailing me to the cross as a cheating whore. My father furrowed his brow, speaking like he was offering me a grand act of charity. “Fine. If you really want to stay here, you have to issue a public statement tomorrow.” “You will publicly confess to your infidelity, and admit that Lily is not Julian’s child.” “Then, you will step down from all core positions in the Sterling Corporation and unconditionally transfer all your shares to Chloe.” I could hardly believe my ears. My voice shook. “You want me to admit to what?!” “Lily is not a bastard!” My mother didn’t even blink. “A bastard born from a fake daughter. If that’s not trash, what is it?” A loud ringing exploded in my ears. Something deep inside me completely shattered. Just then, the sound of footsteps came from the stairs. Chloe walked down, her eyes slightly red, looking like a startled deer. “Dad, Mom, please don’t be like this…” She looked at me, her voice dripping with sickly sweetness. “Sister, I know you’re hurting. But Mom and Dad are getting older, and the Sterling family has a reputation to uphold.” “You can’t just drag everyone down with you because of your messy private life.” “Just admit you were wrong. Once this whole thing blows over, we’ll still be a family.” She lowered her gaze to look at Lily, her eyes filled with fake, manufactured pity. “As for whether or not the kid is actually Julian’s flesh and blood…” “Julian is such a good man, I’m sure he won’t hold it against you.” I opened my mouth to respond, but my parents had already lost their patience. They ordered the maids to throw my bags out the door. “We raised you for twenty years, and we wanted to let you leave with some dignity.” “But since you refuse to admit your mistakes, don’t you ever step foot in the Sterling house again.” By the time we left the Sterling estate, it was late into the night. Lily huddled in my arms, her eyes red and swollen, completely silent. I stroked her hair, assuming she had cried herself to exhaustion, and quickly started looking for a place to stay. Standing in the hotel lobby, I looked like an absolute wreck. “Hi, I need to book a suite, please.” I handed over my corporate credit card. The receptionist swiped it, then looked up at me. “I apologize, ma’am. This card has been frozen.” My heart dropped. I dug out my personal debit card. Only to find out that the life savings in my own account had been completely drained. My fingertips turned to ice. A wave of pure nausea washed over me. Julian had actually gone this far. He didn’t just want to force me to submit; he wanted to cut off every single path of escape I had. The receptionist’s tone flattened. “Miss, are you going to book a room or not?” My throat tightened. I quickly called my best friend for help. “Can you lend me some money? Or… can you just book a room for me? I need a place for Lily and me to stay tonight.” The line went dead silent for two agonizing seconds. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Sarah… it’s not that I don’t want to help you.” “It’s just… my family’s company is right in the middle of negotiating a massive contract with the Sterling Corporation. Your situation is a complete PR disaster right now. If I get involved, my family’s company might be implicated.” She didn’t need to finish the sentence. I understood. I hung up the phone. Staring at my pathetic reflection in the polished marble floor, I suddenly found it all incredibly funny. I had lived over twenty years of my life, and it turned out I had absolutely nothing. The only person in the world who would unconditionally stand by my side was the little girl currently in my arms. But in the very next second, she swayed unsteadily and went completely limp against my chest. I touched her forehead, and my heart nearly stopped. She was burning up. I desperately scrolled through my contacts until I finally landed on the one name I least wanted to bother. After finally managing to borrow some money, I picked Lily up and went back to the front desk. “Please, just get me a room. My daughter has a fever.” The receptionist suddenly rolled her eyes. “No wonder your cards are frozen. You’re that cheating, fake daughter from the Sterling family.” I froze. She looked me up and down, her tone dripping with venomous disdain. “It’s bad enough that you’re cheap trash yourself, but to drag some illegitimate bastard child out here to embarrass yourself?” “This is a respectable establishment. Please take your business elsewhere. Don’t dirty our lobby.” Guests nearby all turned to stare at me. I wanted to explain, but I knew it was useless. I was completely defenseless. I could only carry Lily and retreat from the hotel in utter humiliation. Out on the street in the dead of night, the wind cut like a knife. Lily was delirious from the fever. She buried her face in the crook of my neck and mumbled weakly: “Daddy… please don’t throw me away…” That single sentence ripped my heart into a million pieces. Gritting my teeth, I finally pulled out my phone and dialed Julian’s number. I called ten times. No answer. With trembling fingers, I typed out a message and sent it. [Lily has a high fever. Can you please come?] A long time later, he replied. [That kid isn’t even mine. I don’t have time for your pathetic little dramas.] I stared at that line of icy text. The street around me was bustling with people, but I couldn’t even manage to make a sound as I cried. Ultimately, I had to take Lily to the hospital alone. The emergency room hallway was chaotic. I had just finished registering at the triage desk when I heard a familiar voice. Julian was carefully supporting Chloe as they walked into the ER. A nurse handed a test result slip to Julian, her tone reprimanding. “Early pregnancy bleeding. Signs of a threatened miscarriage.” “The first few months are critical. As her husband, you need to be more careful. Stop stressing out the pregnant mother!” Julian took the slip and instinctively pulled Chloe closer to him. “Does it still hurt?” Chloe shook her head gently, her eyes rimmed with red. Julian frowned deeply. “Don’t go back to your place tonight. Stay at my house.” “I’ll take care of you.” Chloe bit her lip, gave a soft “okay,” and leaned her entire body against his chest. I stood frozen in place, feeling the blood in my veins turn to ice, inch by inch. Many years ago, when I was pregnant with Lily, he had held me exactly like that. My morning sickness had been so severe I couldn’t even keep water down. He had instantly canceled all his work commitments and spent ten full months exclusively by my side while I waited to give birth. He had told me: “Sarah, you and our daughter… you are my entire life!” But now, the man who was branding his “entire life” as a bastard was him. The man who personally pushed me and Lily into the abyss was him. I suddenly felt the urge to laugh. It turns out, when a person loves you, it can be incredibly real. But when they stop loving you, they can be terrifyingly cruel. Lily was still burning up in my arms. My phone vibrated. I looked down. It was a message from Julian. [Sarah, I’m tired of waiting. I’ll see you at the courthouse in three days.] [Okay.] Forcing down the agonizing pain in my chest, I typed the response with trembling fingers. As soon as Lily’s fever broke and she stabilized, I took her straight back to Julian’s house to get my ID and documents. Before opening the door, I turned on the voice recorder app on my phone and slipped it into my pocket. I thought I was mentally prepared. But when I opened the door and saw Chloe sitting on my sofa, wearing my pajamas… A wave of bitter acidity washed over my heart. She didn’t even try to pretend anymore. She tilted her head and smiled at me with innocent malice. “Sister! You guys are getting divorced soon anyway, so you aren’t the lady of the house anymore. You don’t mind if I borrow your clothes, do you?” I didn’t answer. I just looked around the room. In just two short days, the home I had lived in for eight years was completely saturated with Chloe’s presence. I swallowed my anger and led Lily toward our bedroom. But Chloe suddenly bent down and pulled a cake out of the fridge. “Here you go, Lily. You didn’t get to eat any on your birthday, so Auntie Chloe bought you a make-up cake. I was waiting for you to come back!” She smiled, looking completely harmless, but her words were laced with venom. Her birthday party was Lily’s deepest trauma, yet Chloe was intentionally pouring salt into our wounds over and over again. “Even though you aren’t Julian’s child, kids are innocent, right?” “Come on, have a bite.” Lily’s face went deathly pale. She looked up at me, her eyes brimming with tears, as if she had done something terribly wrong. I suppressed my rage. “We don’t want it.” Chloe paused. “Are you waiting for Julian to come cut it for you?” “I’ll go get him right now, okay?” “Lily, don’t worry. Auntie Chloe already talked to him. Even though your parents are getting divorced, out of respect for me, he’ll still keep paying for your expenses.” Lily’s face turned even whiter. Her tiny fingers gripped the hem of my shirt in a death grip. I stared at that disgusting cake, my stomach violently churning. In the next second, I raised my arm and swatted the cake right off the table. The icing exploded across the floor, splattering in a sticky mess across the rug. Chloe shrieked in shock, tears instantly flooding her eyes. “Sister, I was just trying to be nice to you! How could you do this?!” At that exact moment, Julian walked out of the hallway. A surge of violent fury crossed his face. In the next second, he slapped me so hard my face whipped to the side. “Sarah, is that enough?! You’ve caused this much chaos, and you’re still acting like an embarrassment?!” I started laughing, a low, humorless chuckle. “You forged a paternity test on Lily’s birthday, and you don’t think you’re an embarrassment?” “You took Chloe to the OB-GYN emergency room, and you don’t think you’re an embarrassment?” The muscle between Julian’s eyebrows twitched violently. “What kind of garbage are you spouting?! If you keep trying to throw dirty water on us, don’t blame me for what happens next.” He violently shoved me and my daughter into the bedroom. “Get in there and think about what you’ve done! First thing tomorrow morning, we’re going to the courthouse to get divorced. As the party at fault, don’t even dream about taking a single cent of my money. You are leaving with absolutely nothing!” The door clicked as it was locked from the outside. The strong facade I had been maintaining instantly shattered, and tears poured out like a broken dam. All I could do was hold my daughter tightly, apologizing to her over and over again. “Lily, Mommy is so useless. I couldn’t protect you. I let you take the blame and suffer so much.” But Lily reached up, like a tiny adult, and gently wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes. “Mommy, don’t cry.” “Mommy, if Daddy doesn’t want us, then we don’t want him either.” That night, looking into my daughter’s resolute eyes, I finally made a decision. The next day, inside the courthouse. The moment we finished the paperwork and I held the divorce certificate in my hand, Julian still had that look of arrogant certainty. “Sarah, if you drop to your knees and beg for my forgiveness right now, it’s not too late.” “No thanks. I’m in a rush to get married.” Hearing this, he looked slightly stunned, then laughed in disbelief. “Married? Who exactly are you getting married to?” Right at that moment, a sleek black Maybach pulled up smoothly to the curb outside. Right in front of Julian’s face, without a moment’s hesitation, I took the man’s hand and walked right back into the courthouse. Under Julian’s bewildered, chasing gaze, we handed our IDs to the clerk. “Hello. We’re here to get our marriage license.”

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Chapter 1 I’m incredibly socially anxious. So much so that the only relationship I could ever manage was online. On the very day I was finally tracked down and brought into my incredibly wealthy biological family, my adoptive sister—the “fake daughter”—stood in front of me, crying hysterically, begging to give her engagement back to me. I frantically waved my hands. “No, no, it’s fine! I already have a boyfriend.” The moment those words left my mouth, several lines of text suddenly materialized and floated in the air right in front of my eyes: [LMAO, the evil stepsister is rejecting him so quickly right now. Just wait until she actually sees the male lead, she’s gonna regret it immediately.] [The male lead only has eyes for the fake daughter anyway. She’s just going to use their chat history to stalk and harass him.] [She ends up bullying the female lead so badly she attempts suicide. The male lead hates her so much he breaks her arms and legs and locks her in a psychiatric ward.] What a joke. I’m practically terrified of my own shadow. Why would I ever stalk a total stranger? Just then, the sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway. My adoptive sister, Chloe, ran over with red, teary eyes. “Liam! This is my older sister… your original fiancée.” I turned around and locked eyes with a face I knew intimately. It was Liam Vance. The boyfriend I had been dating online for the past six years. The second Liam’s eyes met mine, a distinct flash of panic crossed his face. He quickly suppressed the emotion, pasting on a polite, distant smile, and extended a hand toward me. “Hello, Miss Sterling. I am Liam Vance, Chloe’s fiancé.” With that, he turned slightly, reaching out to affectionately ruffle Chloe’s hair. His voice was gentle but firm: “Chloe, don’t talk nonsense. The engagement was settled between you and me a long time ago. My wife can only ever be you.” The floating text instantly exploded into a frenzy: [Here we go! The evil stepsister is about to whip out the chat logs and throw a massive tantrum!] [I bet five bucks she bursts into tears in the next three seconds!] I gripped the hem of my shirt tightly, my fingertips turning ice-cold. I forced the corners of my mouth up into a small, polite smile. My voice was very soft, but perfectly steady: “Hello, Mr. Vance.” The floating text paused for a few seconds. [? That’s it? She’s not going to make a scene?] [She’s totally faking it. She’s saving her ultimate move for later. Classic playing hard to get.] Liam was clearly caught off guard as well. He looked at me, his eyes hiding a mix of warning and intense scrutiny. Chloe tilted her head, her eyes still rimmed with red. Her voice was soft and sickeningly innocent: “Sister, do you really not want the engagement anymore?” My eyes flicked briefly to the cufflink on Liam’s sleeve. It was the three-year anniversary gift I had sent him. When he put it on, he had laughed and told me he would wear it to every important occasion from then on. I looked away, my tone completely flat: “I don’t.” The text surged again. [Fake! Keep faking it! She’s definitely going to corner the male lead in private later and cry her eyes out!] My biological mother quickly stood up to smooth things over. She walked over with a bright smile and grabbed my arm: “Alright, alright, let’s not just stand around. Let’s eat first.” At the dining table. My mother placed a piece of braised rib on Chloe’s plate, then turned to me with a beaming smile: “Serena, honey, you mentioned earlier that you have a boyfriend. What does he do for a living? You should bring him over sometime so your father and I can meet him.” Every pair of eyes at the table instantly pinned onto me. The knuckles on Liam’s hand, gripping his chopsticks, turned stark white. His face looked incredibly tense. I raised my eyes, gave him a brief, fleeting look, then lowered my head and picked up a piece of food: “We met online. But we’re about to break up.” The text went absolutely feral. [See?! See?! She’s starting with the passive-aggressive comments!] [Just wait, next step is definitely whipping out the chat logs to play the victim!] My mother’s chopsticks paused in mid-air. “Why on earth would you break up if things are going well?” I chewed a piece of lettuce twice, swallowed, and spoke quietly: “He just got engaged to someone else.” The air in the room became so dead silent you could hear a pin drop. The only sound was the clinking of chopsticks against porcelain. Chloe was quick on her feet. She immediately grabbed a shrimp ball, placed it in my bowl, and smiled sweetly: “Sister, please don’t be sad. Try this, it’s my absolute favorite.” Liam’s hand jerked slightly, as if he wanted to stop her, but he violently pulled it back. I looked at the perfectly round shrimp ball in my bowl and frowned. “I’m allergic to shrimp.” All the color drained from Chloe’s face. Her eyes instantly filled with tears: “Is Sister disgusted by me?” My mother’s expression darkened instantly. “This is the first time your sister has ever served you food. Don’t be a spoilsport.” My father slammed his chopsticks down, his tone dripping with impatience: “It’s just an allergy, what’s the big deal? Eat it a few more times and you’ll build an immunity. Eat it. Don’t embarrass Chloe.” The entire table of people stared at me with freezing, judgmental eyes. It was as if I was the one being incredibly unreasonable. Liam glanced at me, his voice carrying a heavy, oppressive weight: “Just take a small bite, you’ll be fine. We have a family doctor on standby.” I stared at the shrimp ball for two seconds. Then, I picked it up with my chopsticks and ate it. A few minutes later. My neck started to itch violently, breaking out into a massive patch of angry red hives. Chloe let out a dramatic gasp, fat tears rolling down her cheeks: “I… I didn’t know Sister was actually allergic! I thought she just hated me…” My mother immediately pulled her into a hug, patting her back to comfort her, before shooting me a vicious glare: “What is wrong with you? If you’re really allergic, why didn’t you say something sooner? Did you do this on purpose just to make Chloe cry?!” I touched the raised hives on my neck. My voice was very light: “I did tell you. You didn’t believe me.” With that, I stood up. Without looking at a single person at the table, I turned around and walked straight to my room. The door had barely been closed for thirty seconds. Liam pushed the door open and followed me inside. His face was as cold as ice. He kept his voice low, hissing: “Watch your mouth. Do not say a single word about what happened between us before.” “You and I just chatted online to kill time, and you know it. Chloe is the only one worthy of being my wife.” I looked up at him. I wasn’t crying. I wasn’t throwing a tantrum. My face was completely devoid of any emotion. “Liam. This is where we end.” He froze. I didn’t waste another word. I turned around and shut the door in his face. I dug out my antihistamines and swallowed them dry with cold water. The dense, maddening itch on my neck slowly began to subside. I sat down at my desk and opened my laptop. The messaging app icon was flashing frantically. It was Harper. Her profile picture was an orange tabby cat eating a french fry. Her contact name was just “Handler.” She was my only best friend, and also my literary agent. She handled all my copyrights, publishing deals, and schedules. Her messages popped up one after another: [Queen!! Your majesty!! The submissions for the Booker Prize preliminary rounds are opening! Are you done with ‘The Dark River’ yet?! Let’s go win another gold medal!] I typed a few words back: [Winning the same award once is enough.] [The Dark River is aiming for the Pulitzer.] Just as I hit send, someone knocked twice on my bedroom door. Chloe pushed the door open, carrying a plate of mango crepes. Her eyes were still red. “Sister, I know I was wrong earlier. I made you some dessert to apologize.” Her eyes swept across my laptop screen, and she completely stiffened. I only had two people on my entire messaging app friends list. One of them was Liam. His profile picture was a photo of a snow-capped mountain he had used for six years. Crash— The plate slipped from her hands, shattering on the floor and splattering mango everywhere. Her voice suddenly spiked into a shrill, piercing shriek that could be heard throughout the entire floor: “How do you have Liam’s contact info?!” “Sister, if you really love Liam, I… I’ll step aside! But how could you go behind my back and—” The sound of heavy, thunderous footsteps rushed toward my room. My parents and Liam all arrived at the door. My father charged in first. His face was black as thunder. Without a single word, he raised his hand and slapped me across the face. Half my face instantly went numb. A trickle of blood seeped from the corner of my mouth. “You shameless disgrace! Seducing your own sister’s fiancé?! You’ve humiliated the entire Sterling family!” Liam stood near the back of the group, his eyes burning with fury. He probably thought I had intentionally left the chat open on my screen to force him into a corner and demand an explanation. He took two steps forward and held out his hand. “Give me your phone.” I didn’t move. He simply reached over and took it himself. His thumb expertly pressed against the fingerprint scanner where he knew I registered my print. With a soft click, the phone unlocked. He scrolled to my friends list, tapped on his snow-mountain profile picture, and immediately deleted and blocked the contact. The floating text was going absolutely insane. [HOLY SHIT! Look at the evil stepsister’s face! She’s totally pale! She’s definitely going to expose the chat logs now!] I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth. I looked at the people standing in front of me, one by one. My voice was very soft, but it didn’t shake. “Are we done here? If there’s nothing else, I’m going to sleep.” The floating text abruptly stopped. Chloe’s sobbing choked off for a second. The insults dying on my father’s lips were swallowed back down. Liam stared at me for several long seconds. I couldn’t read the emotion swirling in his eyes. His lips moved slightly, but in the end, he didn’t say a word. Eventually, one by one, they all left. The door closed. The room was completely empty again. I opened my messaging app. My friends list was back to just Harper. I stared at the empty list for a few seconds. When Liam and I first met, my first pen name—the one I had used for ten years—had just been forcibly bought out by my publishing platform in a predatory contract. I had to use Harper’s ID to register a new indie blog and start completely from scratch. Every day, my inbox was flooded with thousands of messages from readers. I rarely bothered to read them. But Liam’s message was different. He said, “Your writing style… it’s exactly like Midnight Lantern.” He had no idea that I was Midnight Lantern. Later, he told me he was the CEO of Starlight Media. He complained about how absurdly expensive Midnight Lantern’s copyright fees were, and asked if I was willing to sell the film rights to the stories I posted on my blog. That was how we added each other. The “me” online and the “me” in real life were two completely different people. Online, I was witty, sarcastic, and could banter with the best of them. Liam said he was exhausted all day, but chatting with me for a few minutes always helped him relax. I was more than happy to let my guard down and just be myself with him. Eventually, he bought the rights to one of my short stories and invited me to consult on the screenplay adaptation. That was the first time we met in person. He stared at my bright red ears and laughed for a long time: “How are you so entirely different from who you are online? You’re so shy you can barely speak above a whisper. It’s actually really cute, though.” I had severe social anxiety since I was a child, but for some reason, being around him never felt exhausting. On my twenty-seventh birthday, he confessed his feelings to me. When I accepted, Harper threw a bucket of cold water on me: “The wife of the Vance family needs to be a social butterfly who can command a room. You’re someone who is too terrified to even open the door for the pizza delivery guy. Do you really think you can survive that world?” I didn’t believe her. I enrolled in public speaking and confidence-building classes. I forced myself to attend small book signings. I stood in front of my mirror and practiced how to hold a champagne glass and make toasts hundreds of times. I ruthlessly broke myself down and rebuilt myself, piece by piece, just so I could force my way into his world. Only for him to turn around and hold someone else’s hand. Outside the window, I heard Chloe’s laughter. I glanced out. Liam had clearly finished comforting her. He was affectionately ruffling her hair as they walked toward the garage. They were probably going shopping. I pulled my gaze away and opened my email. In my drafts folder sat an application to a prestigious literature program at a university in Europe. It had been sitting there for six months. I clicked Send. The text popped up again. [What is she typing now? It’s all in English?] [Plotting something evil, no doubt. She definitely hasn’t given up on the male lead.] I couldn’t be bothered to care about the text’s idiotic assumptions. I closed my email and opened the manuscript document for The Dark River. Only the last three chapters were left. My fingertips rested on the keyboard, and I started typing. Two days before the grand “Welcome Home” banquet the Sterling family was throwing for me, Chloe knocked on my door. She handed me a dress. It was completely encrusted with rhinestones and sequins, aggressively bright pink. The fabric was clearly high-quality, and it was definitely expensive. But it was the exact opposite of the minimalist, understated clothes I usually wore. It would look completely ridiculous on me. I didn’t take it. “I already prepared my own dress.” I had told them multiple times I didn’t want a welcome home banquet, but they insisted. Chloe’s eyes immediately turned red. “Does Sister not like it? I just wanted to make sure everyone knows how much the Sterling family values you.” From the sofa in the hallway, my father slammed down his newspaper. “Chloe canceled an important prep meeting for the Booker Prize preliminary rounds just to go pick out that dress for you! You will wear it whether you like it or not! It’s the thought that counts!” I glanced at Chloe. She was also an online author, and she was actually quite famous. But I had skimmed through a few of her books before. The writing was mediocre at best, definitely not matching her massive popularity. Recently, the quality of her work had suddenly skyrocketed, but her writing style had shifted drastically multiple times. It didn’t read like it was written by the same person. I didn’t say anything. I took the dress and nodded. Then, I turned around and texted Harper: [Get me a dress for the banquet.] The day of the banquet arrived. I crouched near the entrance of the hotel, clutching my stomach, my face pale. “My stomach hurts. You guys go in first. I’ll catch my breath and come in a bit.” My father muttered something about me being “too much trouble” and led my mother, Chloe, and Liam into the venue. The moment they were out of sight, I stood straight up. The dress Harper had sent over early this morning was waiting for me in the car. It was a smoky gray silk gown, a limited-edition haute couture piece worn by an Oscar-winning actress on the red carpet last year. The waist was embroidered with silver thread in the shape of a night-blooming cereus. It was from the actress’s own private collection. I changed into the dress and walked into the banquet hall. It was as if someone had hit the mute button on the entire room. Liam was standing near the main table, his champagne flute frozen halfway to his mouth. Chloe’s knuckles turned stark white as she gripped her glass. Someone nearby recognized the dress and whispered in awe: “Isn’t that the haute couture piece Mia Stone wore? It’s limited edition. You can’t buy that even if you have the money.” “The long-lost daughter the Sterling family brought back is actually stunning. An ice queen.” The tips of my ears felt like they were burning. My old social anxiety was threatening to flare up. I gripped the fabric of my dress tightly just to keep my composure, walking steadily deeper into the room, maintaining a detached, elegant expression. Chloe immediately hurried over and linked her arm through mine, smiling with manufactured warmth: “Sister, you’re here! Let me introduce you to some senior members of the Literary Association. They’ll be able to look out for you when you apply for membership.” She led me over to a group of men in sharp suits, pitching her voice to be soft and sugary: “My sister writes little stories on an indie blog. She’s not famous or anything yet, so I hope you gentlemen can give her some pointers.” The board members looked me up and down, smirking dismissively. “Getting into the Association requires real talent. Having a pretty face doesn’t cut it here.” “Exactly. You think you can just scribble a few sentences and get in? Our standards aren’t that low.” I lightly tapped my fingernail against my crystal glass, completely ignoring them. Their conversation quickly shifted to the upcoming election for the Association’s president. Director Davis sighed. “Chloe, your rival’s book, ‘The Crossing,’ has been dominating the bestseller lists for almost a month. If you don’t release a new masterpiece soon, your shot at the presidency is going to be in jeopardy.” Chloe didn’t say anything, but a girl standing next to her answered for her: “Chloe is planning to submit to the Booker Prize preliminaries. Once she wins the gold medal, she won’t have anything to worry about!” The board members all shook their heads. “That competition is impossibly difficult! In this entire country, only Midnight Lantern has ever won the gold medal. Everyone else struggles to even get shortlisted.” “The Association has invited Midnight Lantern to join countless times, and they just ignore us completely. Totally mysterious. We don’t even know if they’re a man or a woman.” I was getting bored listening to them. I told Chloe I was going to the restroom, turned around, and found a secluded, empty corner to sit down. I pulled out my phone, opened my writing app, and continued working on the final chapters of The Dark River. Without me noticing, Liam had walked over and sat down directly across from me. He cut straight to the chase: “Give The Dark River to Chloe. She’s going to use it for the competition.” My fingertips hovered motionless over the screen. It felt like a giant hand was squeezing my heart. A dull, suffocating pain spread through my chest. He knew better than anyone else. I had spent three years agonizing over The Dark River. I was aiming for the Pulitzer. When I was first drafting the outline, he stayed up with me for three consecutive all-nighters, helping me iron out the logic, chapter by chapter. The floating text went wild. [Here we go! Here we go! She’s definitely going to use ‘The Dark River’ as leverage to force the male lead to stay with her!] [I bet she demands an insane amount of money!] I raised my eyes and looked at him. My throat felt like sandpaper, but my voice was completely flat: “No.” With that, I stood up and walked away. My phone vibrated in my hand. I glanced down at the screen. [European College of Literature: Your admission application has been approved. Please submit your registration materials by the 30th of this month.] I stared at that line of text for three full seconds. The corners of my mouth twitched into a small smile. Completely ignoring Liam, whose face had turned dark with fury behind me, I walked straight out of the banquet hall. A few days later, I was at the visa application center filling out forms. A breaking news notification popped up on my phone: #Chloe Sterling’s “The Dark River” Shortlisted for Booker Prize Preliminaries. Joins Midnight Lantern as Leading Voice in Literature# I shot up from my chair. The documents in my hands scattered across the floor. I sprinted out of the visa center, flagged down a taxi, and sped straight to the Sterling estate. The moment I pushed open the door to my room, I was frozen to the spot. My laptop was completely destroyed. The motherboard, the hard drive, the keyboard—everything had been ripped apart and smashed into pieces. The screen was a spiderweb of cracked glass. The hard drive itself was physically bent in half. I stood there, my entire body trembling uncontrollably. For the very first time, the floating text changed its tune. [The male lead really went too far this time… he completely destroyed her computer just for Chloe…] [I was hating on the evil stepsister before, but now I actually feel kind of bad for her.] I pulled out my phone and called Harper. My throat was so tight I could barely speak. “My laptop was destroyed. The source files for The Dark River are all on it. Find me the absolute best data recovery expert on the planet. I don’t care how much it costs.” I hung up the phone, got back in a taxi, and went straight to Starlight Media. The receptionist tried to stop me, but I bypassed her and kicked open the door to the CEO’s office. Liam was sitting in his leather chair. When he saw me, he actually had the nerve to raise an eyebrow. I didn’t waste a single breath. I marched right up to him and slapped him as hard as I could. SMACK— His head whipped to the side. Blood immediately seeped from the corner of his mouth. “Do you have any idea what The Dark River means to me?!” Liam wiped the blood from his mouth. He actually let out a dark, chilling laugh. His eyes were terrifyingly cold. “What’s done is done. I suggest you don’t make a scene. I’ll give you thirty million as compensation. Also—” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk. “Before I smashed the laptop, I completely wiped the hard drive. If you dare to make a fuss about this, I have countless ways to ensure you are blacklisted from the writing community forever.” I stared at him for a long, long time. It was like looking at a complete stranger. I didn’t scream. I didn’t throw a tantrum. I just turned around and walked out. When I got back to the Sterling estate, the living room was incredibly lively. Liam’s parents were sitting on the sofa, holding Chloe’s hands, their faces beaming with joy. “Our Vance family is so honored to be gaining such a talented, accomplished daughter-in-law.” Chloe looked up and saw me. A flash of panic crossed her eyes, but she quickly plastered her sweet, innocent smile back onto her face. I gave a curt nod, treating it as a polite greeting, and walked straight upstairs. The shattered pieces of my laptop were still scattered across my desk. Liam had bought me that laptop. He had told me that since I spent all day staring at a screen typing, using something he gave me would ensure I was always thinking of him. I stared at the spiderweb cracks on the shattered screen for a very long time. Whatever tiny, lingering shred of feeling I had left for him completely turned to ash. The door was pushed open. Chloe leaned against the doorframe, a triumphant, arrogant smirk on her face. “Liam already told me everything. So what if you guys knew each other before? In the end, he still chose me. He said only someone like me is worthy of being the young Mrs. Vance. You’re just cheap trash who belongs in the gutter.” I couldn’t even be bothered to look at her. I started shoving the broken pieces of the laptop into my backpack. As I walked past her toward the door, I paused for a second. “Your little pedestal? You can keep it. I don’t want it.” When I arrived at Harper’s studio, Mia Stone was there too. The Oscar-winning actress who had lent me her dress. She was the lead actress in the very first television adaptation of my work. At the time, she was a total nobody. That show made her an overnight sensation. After that, I specifically requested her for every single adaptation of my books, single-handedly pushing her to A-list status. When she saw me walk in, she immediately handed me a hot milk tea. “Don’t panic. The hacker I hired is the absolute best in the industry. He will definitely get your files back.” In less than half an hour, the hacker handed me a flash drive. “The hard drive was only physically damaged. The source files have been fully recovered. All the revision histories, timestamps, everything is perfectly intact. I even managed to pull the cloud backups of your chat logs.” Mia gripped her phone, grinding her teeth in fury. “I’m going to post this on Twitter right now and expose her! My three hundred million followers will bury her alive!” I shook my head. “No rush. We wait until she wins the gold medal, and then we expose her right as she’s standing on the podium.” Mia blinked in surprise, then smiled. “Looks like you’re pretty confident in your own work.” Harper, standing next to her, raised an eyebrow. “Of course she is. She’s Midnight Lantern.” A week later. The Booker Prize preliminary committee announced the gold medal winner: Chloe Sterling. The internet exploded. But the day of the awards ceremony was also the day I was scheduled to report to the European College of Literature. I packed my bags and gave Harper her instructions. “You go to the ceremony. I’ll use the Midnight Lantern account to drop the evidence online. We hit them from both sides simultaneously.” On the day of the ceremony, I was sitting in the airport departure lounge, watching the live stream on my phone. On screen, Chloe, wearing a diamond-encrusted couture gown, stood on the podium, clutching the gold trophy, crying beautiful, delicate tears. “‘The Dark River’ is something I poured my heart and soul into. I wrote it word by word, agonizing over it for three years… thank you all so much…” In the very next second, Harper stood up in the audience, holding up a flash drive. “I am formally reporting a violation. Chloe Sterling’s submission, ‘The Dark River’, is completely plagiarized from an original creator.” I watched the chaos unfold on the screen. My fingertip tapped ‘Publish’ on the Twitter draft I had prepared in advance. The attachments included the source files, timestamps, the entire revision history, and screenshots of every single conversation I had with Liam discussing the outline of The Dark River. The caption was just four words: I am Midnight Lantern. Send. Right as I tapped the button, the airport intercom chimed: “Passengers for Air France Flight AF3287 to Paris, we are now beginning boarding at Gate 3.” I stood up and grabbed my bag. My phone was vibrating like crazy in my pocket. The Caller ID flashed: Liam Vance.

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Chapter 1 Right before my wedding, my nanny lied to me, claiming my father had been kidnapped abroad. In my past life, I dropped everything and chartered a flight to save him, only to be abducted and defiled on the way. I dragged my broken body back with my dying breath. Only to find the nanny’s daughter wearing my wedding dress, becoming the wife of the city’s wealthiest heir, Julian Sterling. My father and brother were sitting in the front row, shedding tears of joy. The nanny, draped in diamonds and gold, leaned affectionately against my father’s chest. They looked like the perfect, happy family of four. When my brother turned and saw me, his face twisted in disgust: “Why the hell did you come back? You’re ruining everything!” I demanded to know why my father had lied to me. In response, he kicked me hard in the stomach, growling: “Throw her out! I won’t let her ruin my precious daughter’s wedding!” The bodyguards dragged me to a car. They were so rough that they accidentally strangled me to death. When I opened my eyes again, the nanny was rushing into my room, looking frantic. “Mia! Your dad was kidnapped overseas! You have to go save him!” This time, I kept smoothing out my wedding dress. Without even looking up, I said: “Tell them to shoot him. If he’s actually dead, I’ll just find myself a sugar daddy.” 1 Seeing my absolute indifference, the nanny’s face flushed with anger. “Have you completely lost your mind?” “Are you seriously abandoning your own father just so you can marry into the Sterling family?” I let out a scoff and unlocked my phone. On Instagram, the nanny’s daughter, Chloe, was flaunting her newfound wealth.“Thank you, Daddy, for the wedding gifts!” The photo showed a stunning set of pigeon-blood ruby jewelry. In my past life, I was too panicked to notice, consumed only by the desperate need to fly across the ocean and save my dad. But looking closely now, I recognized it immediately. That jewelry set was an heirloom left to me by my late mother. There were so many glaring red flags. I was such an idiot in my past life to fall for their lies. Just then, cheers erupted from the backyard pool area. The nanny immediately blocked my path: “Your brother is hosting a private party out there! He explicitly said no one is allowed to interrupt! Have you no shame? Your father is in danger, and you’re worried about a party?!” My heart turned to ice. Our father was supposedly kidnapped, and my brother was in the mood to throw a pool party? Their acting was so pathetically amateur. I definitely wouldn’t be stupid enough to fall for it this time. Perhaps realizing I wasn’t going to budge, the nanny stomped away in frustration. I immediately turned and headed straight for the backyard. In the center of the crowd, Chloe was wearing my custom white silk haute couture gown, soaking up everyone’s congratulations. “Congratulations, Chloe! You’re going to be Mrs. Sterling so soon!” “You two are a match made in heaven!” “Such extravagant wedding gifts! I’m so jealous. An amazing brother, a rich dad, and a billionaire husband. You have it all!” Chloe smiled brightly, casually flashing the 19-carat emerald engagement ring on her finger. My biological brother, Liam Montgomery, stood beside her, looking at her with pure adoration. Chloe smiled coyly. “My brother even bought me a whole villa as a wedding present.” Another wave of envious gasps washed over the crowd. Chloe looked incredibly smug, surveying her adoring audience, until her eyes landed on me standing at the edge of the patio. She let out a startled shriek, losing her balance and falling right into Liam’s arms. I casually strolled over. When Liam saw me, his face darkened instantly. “Why are you still here?” I answered softly: “I was wondering the same thing. Dad’s been kidnapped, hasn’t he?” “How does my dear brother have the mood to play ‘Rich Girl Fantasy’ with her right now?” Liam grabbed my wrist, silently threatening me to shut up. I violently shoved his hand away, grabbed Chloe’s hand, and yanked the emerald ring right off her finger. “And you! Stealing something this expensive? That’s enough to get you twenty years in prison!” Chloe cried out in shock, shrinking timidly behind Liam. Before Liam could even step up to defend her, several of Chloe’s friends jumped out. They pinned my arms behind my back and snatched the ring right out of my hand. “This is Chloe and Julian’s engagement ring! Who the hell do you think you are trying to steal it?!” “Are the Montgomery security guards deaf?! Drag this crazy bitch out of here!” I stared at the crowd. Every single one of them looked ready to tear me apart. After my mother passed away, my father sent me to live abroad alone. I only returned because the Sterling family demanded we honor the arranged marriage pact our families made when Julian and I were babies. My family instantly ordered me back to the US. But the second I stepped off the plane, they forced me to hand over the engagement token—that exact emerald ring. Chloe squeezed out a few crocodile tears. Seeing this, Liam violently shoved me to the ground. “Did you not hear them?! Get the hell out of here!” I pointed right at Chloe and snapped: “If anyone is getting out, it’s her!” “I am the real daughter of the Montgomery family! Who the hell is she?!” Hiding behind Liam, Chloe spoke up, her voice dripping with fake victimhood: “Why are you always so mean to me? I’ve been nothing but nice to you.” “You’ve hit me and yelled at me so many times. You’ve stolen my things. I never held it against you.” “But this ring is Julian’s engagement token to me! How could you say it’s yours?” As soon as she finished, her friends glared at me with pure malice. One of them stomped her heel down hard onto my hand. “So you’re the new maid? Taking advantage of Chloe’s kindness? You actually dare to hit her?” “Claiming you’re the Montgomery heiress? A street rat trying to be a phoenix? Know your damn place!” “Is this the hand you used to steal her things? Tell me!” The stiletto heel ground agonizingly into my palm. I screamed in pain, my body curling into a tight ball on the concrete. “Screaming like that… trying to seduce the guys here, huh?” I didn’t have the strength to fight back. It felt like my fingers were being crushed. I looked up and met Chloe’s taunting gaze. I finally managed to force a scream from my throat: “You’re the maid! Your whole family are maids!” That hit Chloe where it hurt. She absolutely despised anyone bringing up the fact that she was the nanny’s daughter. “I know you have a crush on Julian too, but we’ve been engaged for a long time.” “No matter how much you hate me or try to hurt me, there’s nothing I can do about it.” After she said that, her friends were even more infuriated. They sat on my chest and slapped me across the face several times. “I think you’ve completely lost your mind!” “We’ve been friends with Chloe since we were little kids! She is the true heiress of the Montgomery family!” “Where the hell did a filthy beggar like you even come from?!” I froze. After my mother died, my father claimed that looking at me just reminded him of her and made him too sad. So that was it. He sent me abroad because he had already planned to clear the way for the nanny and her daughter. As I struggled to push myself up from the ground, I heard someone say: “Chloe, show us that ruby set your dad got you!” “Yeah! Let this filthy maid see what real wealth looks like.” Chloe shot me a triumphant smirk and pulled the ruby set from her designer bag. Seeing my mother’s heirloom again, my nose stung and my eyes welled with tears. “Wow! It’s breathtaking! This has to be worth millions, right?” “Chloe, your dad spoils you so much! He didn’t even save this as a family heirloom for your brother, he just gave it to you for your wedding!” Chloe giggled coyly. “My dad said this little trinket is just for me to play around with. He promised to get me a set of world-class, top-tier jewelry for the actual wedding day.” The crowd gasped in awe. “Chloe, look, your maid is literally crying from jealousy.” “She’s probably seething with envy right now.” Chloe lifted her chin and looked down at me. “My dad told me he custom-ordered these rubies specifically for my mom, but they were stolen and hoarded by a homewrecker for years.” “It wasn’t until that bitch died that my dad could finally get them back.” “You actually look a little bit like that bitch.” One of Chloe’s friends immediately chimed in: “They all love trying to sleep their way to the top. Vain gold-diggers always have that same look!” My fingers dug into the edge of the jewelry box tray. I couldn’t hold back my fury any longer. “You’re lying!” Those rubies were my grandfather’s wedding gift to my mother. The back of the stones was even engraved with my mother’s childhood nickname. Not only did she steal my identity, but she was actively slandering my dead mother! Slap! Chloe raised her hand and slapped me hard across the face. I braced myself to stay upright so I wouldn’t drop the rubies. “I’m telling the truth!” Chloe shrieked. “The one who isn’t loved is the real homewrecker! She should have died a long time ago! She stole my mom’s place for years!” “And honestly, I’m planning on auctioning these rubies off anyway. It’s something that bitch wore. I feel dirty just touching it!” I slammed the jewelry box shut and pulled it tightly against my chest. “Don’t you dare!” Chloe smirked, looking at me like I was a joke. “My dad gave it to me. It’s mine.” “I can do whatever I want with it.” “Who do you think you are? You think you can threaten me?” I looked at Liam. He was completely unfazed. He didn’t say a single word to defend our mother when Chloe insulted her. Instead, he held out his hand, demanding I give the rubies back to Chloe. “Hand it over!” I shook my head. “Liam, do you have no conscience at all?!” “She just insulted Mom like that, and she wants to auction off her belongings! And you didn’t even say a word to stop her!” Liam’s face turned dark, but he continued to protect Chloe. “Chloe didn’t mean it like that.” “Give the jewelry back to her, and don’t make me use force.” I glared at Liam. Our mother loved him so much, and yet he was allowing Chloe to drag her name through the mud. “Liam, I am your biological sister.” “If Mom is watching from heaven, she will never forgive you!” A flicker of hesitation crossed Liam’s face. Chloe instantly latched onto his arm and whispered: “Brother… we grew up together. You’ve always protected me.” “I am your real sister. Have you forgotten? When you fell into the pool, I was the one who ran and got Dad to save you!” Hearing that, the coldness returned to Liam’s face. “I only have one sister, and that’s Chloe.” “If you spout any more of your crazy nonsense, I’ll have the guards throw you out.” The mocking laughter of the crowd drowned me out. One of Chloe’s friends kicked me hard in the back of the knee, forcing me to kneel on the ground. Chloe crouched down and grabbed my chin. The diamond ring on her finger scraped against my skin, leaving a bloody scratch. “I’ve let you off the hook time and time again, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have limits.” “You actually dare to lust after my fiancé? You’re pushing your luck, and I’m not letting it go this time.” I saw the corners of Chloe’s mouth curve upwards. She looked up at the group of idle, wealthy playboys standing around. “Since our maid here is so desperate to marry rich… do any of you guys need a mistress? You can take her with you today.” “Just throw some loose change at her, and she’ll happily wag her tail for you.” The men all turned to look at me, their eyes sweeping over my body with disgusting, predatory intent. “She’s pretty cute, but we’re not taking her unless she strips down so we can inspect the goods.” I scrambled up and tried to run, but Chloe’s friends grabbed my hair and slammed me back onto the concrete. “That’s easy!” They grabbed the collar of my dress and ripped it open, exposing my underwear and strapless bra. “Oh damn, she’s a freak. Wearing lace underneath.” “She was probably ready to jump into someone’s bed at any second.” The men’s eyes lit up, staring at my thighs and chest with absolutely zero restraint. “Chloe, I’ll take your maid! Is ten grand enough?” “I’ll give you fifteen! Looking at that ass and chest… I’m getting hard right now.” “She looks wild, I love it! Twenty grand, and I’m taking her right now.” I wrapped my arms tightly around my exposed body, shivering uncontrollably. Chloe let out a laugh. “That money isn’t even enough to buy one of my dresses. I’ll just give her to you guys for free. You can play with her however you want.” “Just don’t do it here at my house. I don’t want her ruining the Montgomery family’s reputation.” As soon as she finished speaking, several of the men exchanged glances and lunged toward me. I shielded my body and screamed at Liam: “Without my signature on the equity transfer documents, you will NEVER inherit the Montgomery estate!” “If any of these men touch me, I will bite my tongue off and kill myself right here! You will never see a single cent of that money for the rest of your life!” In my past life, right before I got on the plane to “save” my father, Liam manipulated me into signing away all my shares. Once I lost my only leverage, they didn’t hesitate to have me killed. In this life, I was absolutely not giving it away for free. Hearing this, Liam’s cold face finally showed signs of panic. He yelled at the men to stop. “Enough! Today is Chloe’s bachelorette party. We’re not letting a maid ruin it.” “Everyone, go back to drinking!” Chloe hadn’t expected Liam to actually speak up for me. Her expression darkened. But she quickly played along: “Let’s just listen to my brother. Honestly, I couldn’t bear to make you suffer too much humiliation either.” “But don’t you dare ever show your face around here again, or else…” Before she could finish her threat, a middle-aged man’s voice echoed from behind her. “Who’s making my little princess unhappy?”

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Chapter 1 The year Caleb’s car crash left him paralyzed and shattered his career, I sold my grandfather’s house and worked as a janitor for eight grueling years. I scraped together the astronomical medical bills to pay for his surgeries, standing by him until he reclaimed his title as the World Boxing Champion. At his victory gala, he held the championship belt, tears in his eyes as he made a public confession. “I want to thank the love of my life, who never gave up on me. May we spend the rest of our lives together.” My eyes welled with tears. I thought my years of suffering had finally paid off. But as I stood up, the spotlight bypassed me entirely. It landed on his team doctor, Chloe. I froze, the deafening thud of my own heartbeat drowning out everything else in the room. The giant screens began playing the “Champion’s Loving Wife: Rehabilitation Diary.” It was a slideshow of my work. My late-night muscle response logs, my gait training protocols, my handwritten breakdowns of boxing combinations. But the most blinding thing of all was the final slide. It prominently displayed a marriage certificate for Caleb and Chloe, dated five years ago. Caleb gripped my trembling shoulders tight. His eyes held a mix of pleading and a sharp warning. “Sarah, the public needs a PR-friendly love story. The medical miracle and the boxing legend. I can’t present a janitor to the world as my partner.” “No one will believe you if you make a scene right now. Why fight over a moment of pride? I’ll buy your grandfather’s house back for you.” I felt like I’d been struck by lightning, staring in sheer disbelief at the man in front of me. Eight years of pouring my heart, soul, and blood into him had become nothing more than leverage to keep me quiet. Walking out of the ballroom, my hands shook as I looked at the overseas job offer on my phone. Without hesitation, I tapped Confirm. [Ms. Davis, your flight and visa will be ready in three days. Please stay in touch. Welcome to the team!] … I tracked down my supervisor at the cleaning company and told her I had a family emergency. I asked to settle my pay for the month early. She handed me a few bills, her eyes full of pity. At 2:00 AM, Caleb walked into the apartment reeking of alcohol. Seeing me sitting on the edge of the bed, his brow furrowed. “It’s late. Why aren’t you asleep?” He quickly walked over. When he saw my raw, blistered heels, a flash of guilt and heartache crossed his eyes. Just like when he was paralyzed, he expertly grabbed a cotton swab and lifted my foot to treat the wounds. “How did you let it get this bad without treating it?” His voice was soft, laced with the tenderness I used to know so well. When the swab touched the raw skin, I flinched. He immediately lightened his touch, leaning down to gently blow on the wound. “Chloe standing up there… it was just for the sponsors and the cameras,” he said softly as he applied a bandage. “The public isn’t going to accept a champion whose partner is a janitor. It would ruin my upcoming endorsement deals.” He said it so matter-of-factly, like it was a universal truth everyone should just accept. I looked down at him, feeling an icy chill seep into my bones. Eight years of day and night care. Selling my grandfather’s house to pay for his surgeries. Countless sleepless nights designing his rehab routines. All of that absolute devotion was only fit to exist in the shadows of his private life. He detached the commemorative medallion from his championship belt and pressed it into my palm. “You deserve at least half the credit for this medal, Sarah. I know that.” I looked down at the gleaming gold surface. “Caleb, since you’re already married… let’s just end this.” His hand paused. He avoided my gaze, standing up to close the first-aid kit. “Sarah, where else would you go? You don’t have any family left. You sold your house for my surgery.” “Don’t overthink this. Chloe and I aren’t what you think.” “Sarah, in my heart, you are my only true wife.” He turned around and pulled his suit for tomorrow out of the closet. “I’m flying overseas the day after tomorrow for an exhibition match. Pack my gloves and backup meds.” “Chloe is coming with me as the team doctor. Put the medical files she needs in my suitcase too.” He listed his demands, his tone completely casual. Seeing me sitting there motionless, his hand froze halfway through untying his tie. He fell silent for a moment, then walked over and pulled me into his arms. “Sarah, I haven’t forgotten my promise to you.” He rested his chin on the top of my head. “You want a home. You want to buy back your grandfather’s house. I remember.” Smelling the unfamiliar, expensive perfume on him, I stood rigidly in his embrace. “I already bought the house back.” He let go of me and pulled an old, brass key from his suit pocket. “The paperwork is still being processed. I was going to give it to you tomorrow as a birthday surprise.” “Take tomorrow off. I’m taking you home.” Home. Such a beautiful word. My hand clamped tightly around the key. “Okay,” I rasped. Caleb smiled in satisfaction and turned to walk into the bathroom. Early the next morning, I stood in front of the familiar red wooden door, my eyes stinging with tears. But just as I pulled out the key, the door was pulled open from the inside. Chloe was standing in the entryway, wearing silk loungewear and slippers. Seeing me, she didn’t look surprised at all. Instead, she flashed a flawless smile. “Oh, Sarah! You’re here.” She waved a catalog at me. “Help me decide. Should we do the living room in champagne, or a dusty blue?” I froze, my eyes locked onto her loungewear—an outfit that screamed she was the lady of the house. I turned to look at Caleb. He avoided my eyes. “Champagne. It’ll make the room brighter.” In the corner of the courtyard wall, there was a height chart my grandfather had carved for me, notch by notch. “This old wall is falling apart. It smells like mildew,” Chloe complained, covering her nose. “I hired a crew. They’re repainting the whole thing tomorrow.” She pointed to the old wicker chair my grandfather left behind in the corner. “And that junk chair. Throw it out with the trash tomorrow.” I stared at the wicker chair, my fingernails digging into my palms. When Caleb was paralyzed, he used to smash everything in the house in a fit of rage. I was the one who forced him into that chair, telling him over and over again that his legs would heal. Now that he could stand, the chair was just garbage. “Caleb.” I turned around, my voice hoarse. “Why is she here?” Caleb walked over, reaching out to take my hand. I stepped sideways, avoiding his touch. He sighed heavily, lowering his voice. “Sarah, I really did buy the house back.” “But the deed is temporarily under Chloe’s name.” My head snapped up. I stared at him in utter disbelief. “She and I are legally married, after all,” he said, his tone meant to be soothing. “Putting the house under her name as a marital asset saves us a massive amount of unnecessary taxes.” “Once my overseas tour is over next month, I’ll have Chloe transfer the deed to you.” My voice shook uncontrollably. “This is the only thing in the world I wanted back. You’re a multi-millionaire now. Are you really hurting for that tax money?” Caleb frowned, reaching out to wipe my tears, trying to coax me. “Sarah, I’m under a lot of pressure too. Besides, it doesn’t really matter whose name is on the paper.” “You can move in whenever you want. Chloe stays downtown most of the time. She won’t bother you.” Leaning against the doorframe, Chloe let out a soft laugh. “Yeah, Sarah. But that south-facing bedroom on the second floor? I’m turning that into Caleb’s trophy room.” “I’m putting in custom display cases for his belts and gloves.” I stood in the courtyard that used to be mine, watching them plan their future. I felt like a stranger who had merely been granted permission to tour the property. On the drive back, Caleb buckled my seatbelt and intentionally took a detour to buy my favorite roasted chestnuts. He peeled one and held it to my lips. “Don’t be mad. Once I get back from the fight, everything will go back to normal.” “I’m cooking tonight. Your favorite, spicy fish.” While Caleb was in the kitchen, his phone buzzed on the nightstand. It was a message from a real estate agent. [Mr. Sterling, all the closing documents for your wife’s property are finalized.] Compelled by some dark intuition, I unlocked the screen. His passcode was my birthday. I opened the closing confirmation document. The date printed clearly on it was from three months ago. March 16th. Chloe’s birthday. He brought the food to the table. His phone rang again. It was Chloe. He listened for a moment, looking torn. He grabbed his jacket and stood up. “Chloe sprained her wrist. I need to go check on her. We can’t delay tonight’s rehab demonstration and interview.” “Sarah, you go ahead and eat. Drop off the custom gloves and mouthguard at the studio backstage later.” I sat alone at the table. I have never liked fish. The smell of the fish hit my nose, and I couldn’t hold it back anymore. I ran to the bathroom and threw up until my stomach was empty. At the television studio, Caleb was being interviewed. The reporter held the microphone, her voice dripping with admiration. “Champ, you and Chloe really are boxing’s ultimate power couple.” Chloe, impeccably dressed, clung to Caleb’s arm. “We heard that Chloe sacrificed a lot behind the scenes to help you reclaim your title?” Chloe covered her mouth with a delicate laugh. “The years Caleb was paralyzed were incredibly hard. But as long as a husband and wife face things together, there’s no obstacle you can’t overcome.” She placed heavy emphasis on the words “husband and wife.” My grip on the equipment case tightened until the plastic handles dug painfully into my palms. Just then, sharp-eyed media personnel in the front row suddenly pointed toward the backstage area. “Wait a minute. Isn’t that woman the same one who stood up at the victory gala?” Every single camera in the room instantly swiveled and locked onto me. Sensing the scent of a massive scandal, the reporter quickly shoved the microphone toward Caleb. “Champ, what exactly is your relationship with this woman?” “There are rumors that she was the one who stayed by your side during your darkest days, and even designed your rehab routine. Is that true?” The entire studio went dead silent. Everyone’s eyes darted back and forth between me and Caleb. I looked at Caleb on the stage. The few seconds of silence felt like an agonizing eternity. Deep down, I still harbored one pathetic, laughable shred of hope. I hoped that even if he wouldn’t acknowledge me as his partner, he would at least admit I was the one who suffered through the hardest years with him. Caleb looked at me. His eyes flickered. Then, he slowly raised the microphone to his mouth. “Sarah Davis is the housekeeper who took care of my daily needs over the past few years.” His voice echoed clearly through the speakers, reaching every corner of the room. “She works very hard and is very responsible.” He turned to look at Chloe, his eyes softening with deep affection. “But Chloe is my legal wife. She is the most important, irreplaceable person who helped me return to the ring.” The audience erupted into thunderous applause and cheers. I stood there, clutching the gear, my fingers turning to ice. Even breathing sent a dull, throbbing pain through my chest. Housekeeper. The eight years I spent selling my home, draining my bank account, and staying up all night managing his rehab… in his eyes, it was nothing more than dutiful domestic service. As soon as the interview ended, the studio descended into chaos. Someone had leaked photos of me cleaning hotel rooms online. Frenzied boxing fans immediately cornered me at the exit. “So she really is just a janitor trying to sleep her way to the top!” “Shameless bitch! He has a legal wife, who the hell do you think you are?!” “Keeping trash like her around is a stain on the champ’s reputation!” Vicious curses rained down on me from all sides. Someone violently shoved my shoulder. The equipment case slipped from my grasp, crashing to the floor. The gloves and mouthguard scattered everywhere. I crouched down to pick them up, but someone shoved me hard from behind. I lost my balance and tumbled down the concrete steps. Blood seeped from my elbow, and a blinding pain shot through my ankle. I gasped, the pain paralyzing me for several moments. The crowd erupted into mocking laughter. Caleb noticed the commotion. He started to rush toward me, but Chloe grabbed his arm. “Caleb, the press is waiting for photos. The sponsors are watching.” The panic in Caleb’s eyes slowly faded. He turned away, throwing a single sentence over his shoulder: “Security. Don’t let random nobodies ruin the event.” When he was paralyzed, if I was ten minutes late coming back from the grocery store, he would drag his useless legs to the door, sweating profusely in a panic, terrified I had abandoned him. Now, his legs worked perfectly. Yet, watching me lying bleeding at the bottom of the stairs, he still chose to turn his back and walk away. “Ma’am, please leave!” Dragging my swollen, throbbing ankle, I limped into the tournament’s partner hospital and handed over my ID at the front desk. The nurse typed a few keys on her computer, and her face instantly hardened. She slid my ID back to me, her tone completely flat. “I apologize, Ms. Davis, but this hospital cannot treat you.” I froze. Blood from my elbow had already soaked through half my sleeve. The nurse stared at me blankly and pressed the security buzzer on her desk. Two security guards marched over, grabbed me by both arms, and forcefully dragged me out of the emergency room lobby. I sat on the edge of a planter box outside, my hands shaking as I pulled out my phone and dialed Caleb’s number. It rang for a long time before someone picked up. “Hello?” It wasn’t Caleb. It was Chloe’s voice. She had clearly put it on speakerphone; I could hear reporters talking in the background. “Sarah, you know perfectly well I am Caleb’s wife. Why do you keep harassing him?” She spoke loudly, deliberately making sure everyone around her could hear. I gripped my phone, my knuckles turning white. “I am the one who suffered through the last eight years with him.” I gritted my teeth, forcing out the very last question buried in my heart. “I sold my family home. I cleaned toilets for eight years. Am I not even allowed to call him when I’m hurt?” The line went quiet for a moment. Then, I heard Caleb’s exhausted voice. “Just hang up. Don’t argue with her anymore.” He didn’t even ask how badly I was hurt. “You don’t need to lower yourself to her level. Let this be a lesson to her. Maybe she’ll learn her place.” The call was abruptly disconnected. The screen went dark. I stared at the black reflection, suddenly feeling completely ridiculous. I dragged my injured leg, limping all the way back to my rented apartment. As soon as the elevator doors opened, I saw my clothes and old books strewn all over the hallway floor. My landlord was standing in the doorway, a new lock cylinder in his hand. He avoided eye contact, gesturing vaguely to the pile of my belongings. “My hands are tied, Ms. Davis. I’m refunding your deposit. Please pack up and leave.” In the trash can nearby, my handwritten muscle logs and the original drafts of Caleb’s rehab plans had been shredded to pieces. The elevator chimed, and Caleb rushed out, panting heavily. He looked at the mess in the hallway, then at my bleeding arm, his brow furrowing deeply. He held out a bank card to me. “Sarah, can you stop making a scene?” His voice was laced with exhaustion and intense irritation. “After the fight, I’ll find you a new place to stay. The money on this card is your compensation.” I didn’t take the card. I just looked up, staring directly into his eyes. “You have a legal wife, yet you want to keep me around as a side piece.” “Caleb, what exactly do you think I am?” The color drained from Caleb’s face. His eyes darted away evasively. “I told you, I’ll explain everything after I get back from the fight. Can you just be reasonable for once?” He checked his watch. “I’m going to miss my flight. I have to go. Book a hotel room for yourself.” He turned around, stepped into the elevator, and never looked back. That night, alone in a cheap motel room, I received a summons from the police. Someone had reported me, submitting a forged audio recording to the authorities, accusing me of extortion. The bank card was submitted as evidence. I was detained. … Seven days later, Caleb returned triumphant from his overseas matches. He tried calling Sarah, but it went straight to voicemail. She didn’t reply to his texts. He rushed to her grandfather’s house, only to find the brass key she had held so tightly sitting in the mailbox. It wasn’t until someone told him Sarah had been arrested that he sprinted to the police station. The officer handed the bank card back to him. “Ms. Davis posted bail and left.”

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1 When I woke up, I was staring at a ceiling that wasn’t mine. I was in Whitney’s bedroom, surrounded by her clutter. Panic seized me. I lunged for her phone, desperate to call my own number, but the moment the screen lit up, my fingers froze. Her pinned chats used to consist of only her parents and me. Now, there was a third name sitting right at the top of her inbox. My boyfriend of three years, Christian. There were two unread notifications. One was from my own brother, Nathan, sent an hour ago: Go ahead and have fun with Christian today. I’ll make sure Aurora stays out of your way. The other was from Christian, sent fifteen minutes ago: Up yet, beautiful? Should I come over and pick you up? Before my brain could even process the weight of what I was reading, a soft, familiar knock rattled the front door. I walked over like a ghost, swinging the door open to find Christian standing there, his eyes crinkling with a warm, easy smile. “Still half-asleep, sleepyhead?” He reached out, affectionately ruffling my hair. In our three years together, I had never seen him look at me like this. He had always been distant, quiet, and mildly irritated by my presence. I had spent years convincing myself that he wasn’t cold, just naturally reserved. “Whitney? You look pale. Did you have a rough night?” Whitney. So, Christian was capable of using sweet, tender nicknames. Just not for me. Perhaps my silence unnerved him. He pressed a hand to my forehead, pulled me gently into the living room, and walked straight to the kitchen. He grabbed a carton of milk from the fridge, pouring it into a mug and popping it into the microwave. He knew his way around her apartment perfectly. “I brought you those croissants you love from Mabel’s,” he called out. Mabel’s Bakery. I loved their pastries too. But the place was famous for its ridiculous lines that started wrapping around the block at six in the morning. Every time I had asked him to take me, he would dismiss me with a lazy yawn, telling me it was too far and the wait was stupid. Mabel’s was a forty-minute drive from Whitney’s apartment. For him to have these ready by eight in the morning, he must have been up at dawn. “I thought those were Aurora’s favorite too,” I said, my voice sounding raspy and strange in Whitney’s throat. Christian froze, a flicker of annoyance crossing his handsome face. “Why are you bringing her up right now?” A sharp, physical ache bloomed in my chest. Before he could say anything else, his phone began to buzz. The caller ID read Aurora. Whitney must have woken up in my body and was trying to reach him. Christian stared at the screen for a second, a look of pure exasperation crossing his face. Then, without a second thought, he powered the phone off and tossed it onto the kitchen counter. “Christian, aren’t you going to answer that?” My voice trembled. He continued unpacking the pastries, his tone softening as he looked back at me. “Don’t worry about her. We’re getting married soon anyway. Before the wedding, I wanted to follow my heart, just this once. I wanted to take you on a real date.” Right then, the phone in my hand, Whitney’s phone, began to vibrate violently. The caller ID displayed My Favorite Person in the World, complete with a heart emoji. My contact name in her phone was My Bestie for Life. We had set those contact names a decade ago. They had represented half of our lives. Yet today, I realized my relationship, my longest friendship, and even my own family were nothing but a lie. Christian noticed the buzzing phone, snatched it from my hand, and declined the call. The cold, dismissive look on his face was one I recognized instantly. It was the face he always made when I tried to hug him. But when he looked back up at me, the warmth returned. “Come on, eat up. We have a big day ahead of us.” Logic told me to scream the truth in his face, to tell him that the soul inside this body belonged to Aurora. But a pathetic, grieving part of me wanted to feel this warmth just a little longer. Even if I had to steal my best friend’s face to get it. He took me to the pier amusement park. I had begged him to go there for three years. On my first birthday with him, he told me it was too hot and we would go another time. On the second, he claimed he had a last-minute business meeting. By the third, he simply snapped, asking me when I was going to grow up and stop whining about childish things. Now, he was standing in front of me, tickets in one hand and a pair of cute, plush mouse ears in the other. “Christian,” I murmured, “I thought you hated amusement parks.” He laughed softly, gently placing the headband on my head. “But didn’t you post on Instagram last week about how badly you wanted to come here?” My hands clenched into tight fists. Whitney had shared a reel about the park a week ago, captioning it with Someone take me here! I had offered to go with her, but she told me she already had plans with someone else. That someone else was my fiancé. “Whitney, I planned out our whole route today. Just follow me,” he said, looking at me with absolute devotion. I nodded slowly. Whitney’s phone buzzed in my pocket. It was a text from my own number. Aurora… it’s you, isn’t it? I didn’t reply. A second later, another message popped up. Please let me explain! I never wanted to hurt you, it’s not what it looks like! I finally typed back: Then explain. The typing bubble appeared. It flickered for a long, painful minute, but no message ever came. I let out a silent, bitter laugh. How could she possibly explain this? A hand reached into my line of sight and gently took the phone away. “Hey, no distractions today. Today belongs to us.” “Okay,” I whispered, letting him slide the phone into his jacket. My birthday had passed two weeks ago. My birthday wish had finally come true, just in the most mocking, twisted way possible. When we reached the roller coaster, Christian turned to me with a protective gaze. “Do you want to ride this, Whitney? If you’re scared, we can find something tamer.” “I want to,” I said. “I love thrill rides.” Christian’s eyes lit up with surprise and delight. “See? I knew we were a perfect match. I love them too.” Right before the coaster launched, Christian reached over and squeezed my hand. I turned to look at him, my heart hammering against my ribs, my fingers trembling in his grasp. “Don’t be scared, Whitney,” he whispered, his voice incredibly tender. He didn’t know I wasn’t Whitney. He didn’t know my tears weren’t from fear. As the coaster plummeted from the highest peak, the wind roaring in my ears, I heard him scream beside me, “Whitney, I want you to be happy!” I closed my eyes and let the tears stream down my face, instantly whipped away by the rushing air. My three-year relationship died on that drop. For the rest of the day, I stopped pretending to be Whitney. I spoke in my own voice, laughed at my own jokes, and behaved exactly as I always did. By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, we were walking back to his car. I sat in the passenger seat, staring at his profile, waiting for him to notice that the girl beside him shared the exact same soul as the fiancée he claimed to be bored of. He never did. It was eight in the evening by the time I got the phone back. It was flooded with missed calls and messages from Whitney. The last text had been sent three hours ago: Aurora, please talk to them. Your brother won’t believe me. He thinks I’m crazy… I swiped out of her chat and clicked on my brother’s name. He had sent one text to Whitney’s phone: Aurora seems to have lost her mind today, she’s been screaming that she’s you. I took her phone and locked her in her room so she won’t ruin your date. Enjoy your evening. A cold, humorless laugh escaped my lips. “What’s so funny?” Christian asked, steering the car through the evening traffic. I looked at him, my voice flat. “Nothing. Just that Aurora sent a lot of messages. Is it really okay for us to be doing this behind her back?” For a split second, a shadow of guilt crossed his face. For a fleeting, pathetic moment, I hoped he would say he regretted it. Then he spoke, crushing my last shred of hope. “Don’t worry about her.” He pulled up to the curb outside Whitney’s apartment building. He turned to face me, his eyes soft. “I had an amazing time today, Whitney.” “Me too,” I replied quietly. He leaned in closer. “You felt different today. Still beautiful, but there was this fire in you. I didn’t think I could love you more than I already did, but today changed everything. If only I had met you before I met her.” Fresh tears welled in my eyes. “What’s wrong?” Christian panicked, reaching out to wipe my cheek. “Did I say something wrong?” “No,” I choked out, a bitter smile gracing my lips. “You didn’t say anything wrong. I just finally understand why you love me.” And I finally understood why he didn’t love me when I was in my own skin. It was hilarious, really. He loved Whitney’s face, but he loved my soul. Yet, after spending an entire day with me, he couldn’t even tell that the woman he was falling for was the very same one he was planning to abandon. Back in Whitney’s apartment, I called my own phone. My brother answered on the first ring. “Whitney? Is the date over?” “Yeah,” I whispered. “Good,” Nathan said, his voice warm with brotherly affection. “As long as you’re happy, that’s all that matters to me.” I gripped the phone so hard my knuckles turned white. As long as she’s happy? Even if it means destroying your own sister? “You want to talk to Aurora?” Nathan asked. “I’ll give her the phone back.” A moment later, Whitney’s frantic voice came through the receiver. “Aurora! Oh my god, finally! Your brother is insane, he locked me in your room! Have you told Christian yet? What is going on with us?” I let the silence stretch between us before speaking. “Whitney, weren’t you going to explain things to me?” There was a long pause on the other end. When she spoke again, her frantic tone had vanished, replaced by a defensive sigh. “Look, I was going to make up some excuse, but now that you know, what’s the point? He’s just a guy, Aurora. We’ve been best friends for a decade. Are you really going to let a man come between us?” I stared at the wall, completely numb. I had been blind. Blind to my boyfriend, blind to my brother, and blind to my best friend. “Why aren’t you saying anything?” Whitney snapped. “Are you actually mad? Christian and I haven’t even done anything that bad.” I hung up. She called back repeatedly, but I ignored every single ring. Instead, I opened her chat history with Christian and began reading. Their first conversation dated back to March eleventh, two years ago. Whitney had added him the day after Christian and I officially started dating. For three years, they had messaged each other every single day. I watched Christian’s replies transition from cold and dismissive to eager and warm over the span of a single year. By the third year, he was sharing every mundane detail of his life with her. Things he never bothered telling me. Then, I found the message from a week ago. Christian: You want to go to the pier? I’ll take you this Saturday. Whitney: I’d love to, but what about Aurora? Christian: Don’t worry about her. I remembered that night. I had sent Christian dozens of messages, worrying about him because he was supposedly working late. He hadn’t replied until one in the morning, claiming he was exhausted. I had spent the next morning making him homemade soup to take to his office. All while he was planning a secret date with my best friend. Next, I opened Whitney’s chat with my brother. It was the same story. She had initiated contact, slowly reeling him in. Nathan had only started falling for her charms a month ago. My head spun. I tossed the phone onto the desk, accidentally knocking a small, leather-bound notebook to the floor. I picked it up. It was Whitney’s diary, the handwriting inside neat and youthful, dating back to our high school days. The very first line read: I hate Aurora. Why does she get to have everything? The grades, the money, a brother who treats her like a princess. Why her? Why not me? I flipped through the pages, my heart dropping with every word. March 10th: Aurora has a new boyfriend. She never learns. I took her last two guys, and now she’s introducing me to this one like a naive idiot. He’s gorgeous and aloof. I’m definitely taking him from her. My breath hitched. Those painful breakups in college, the ones Whitney had held me through while I sobbed into her shoulder… they hadn’t been accidents. My heartbreak had been her trophies. August 21st: It’s Aurora’s birthday. She wanted to go to the amusement park with Christian. So pathetic. She has no idea he’s spending the night in my bed instead. My hands shook violently as I turned to the very last page, dated yesterday. September 2nd: Christian was incredible today. Finally got him all to myself. Best feeling ever. They had both gone completely off the grid yesterday afternoon. I had called Christian’s phone dozens of times, terrified something had happened to him. The phone in my hand buzzed. A text from Christian. Whitney, I loved the way you were today. Goodnight, beautiful. I didn’t reply. I don’t remember how I fell asleep, but when I opened my eyes the next morning, I was back in my own bedroom. The scent of lavender filled the air, and my hands were my own again. I checked my phone. All the screenshots of the diary pages and chat logs I had taken using Whitney’s phone yesterday were sitting safely in my inbox. I dialed my mother’s number first. “Mom,” I said the moment she picked up. “You know that study abroad program in London you wanted me to do? I’ll go.” My mother’s excited voice came through the line. “Oh, sweetheart! I knew you’d make the right choice! Once you finish your master’s, you can take over the family firm.” She paused. “What about Christian? Have you told him?” I looked out the window, my voice cold. “Don’t worry about him.” After hanging up, I opened my messages. There was only one unread text, sent by Christian ten minutes ago. Aurora, let me know when you’re awake. We need to go pick out your wedding dress today. I smiled bitterly, compiled all the screenshots into an email, and hit send. Go pick out the dress with Whitney, Christian. You two deserve each other.

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1 Working late into the night, I found myself standing at the entrance of that pitch-black alleyway yet again. “Fred… could you come pick me up?” I asked, my voice trembling over the line. “The streetlights still aren’t fixed, and I’m scared.” A rustling sound came through the speaker. “I’m cracking crab legs for Sienna. My hands are covered in butter. I can’t leave right now.” I swallowed the bitter lump in my throat and hung up the phone. Those streetlights had been broken for thirty days. I had begged him to pick me up thirty times, and he had never shown up once. I had no choice but to brace myself and walk into the darkness alone. I barely took two steps before my phone buzzed. It was a new social media post from Sienna. [Big thanks to Fred for the amazing handmade dinner! I absolutely love it!] The attached photo showed a plate of rice and seafood meticulously arranged into the shape of a little crab. Once upon a time, I had seen a viral couple do that and asked him to make one for me. Fred had rolled his eyes. “Are we five years old? If you want to play with your food, do it yourself.” Yet now, he was perfectly willing to play the childish boyfriend for his content-creator co-star, Sienna. At that moment, a profound exhaustion washed over me. I didn’t want to walk down this dark road anymore. Fifteen minutes later, I was sitting under the harsh fluorescent lights of a 24-hour convenience store. I took slow, mechanical bites of a microwaved chicken wrap. The tortilla was scalding hot, but the filling was completely freezing in the center. Back in college, if I didn’t reply to his texts within ten minutes, Fred would blow up my phone in a panic. Tonight, our chat history was a ghost town. My last message to him was a ‘Good morning’ sent ten hours ago. He had left it on read. Five minutes later, I swallowed the last bite of the wrap along with my tears. My phone finally rang. A pathetic spark of hope flared in my chest. I thought Fred had finally remembered I existed. But the second I answered, his impatient voice filled my ear. “Harper, Sienna got chili oil on her dress. Do you have any new clothes in your closet? Bring one down for her.” I gripped the phone tightly, staying completely silent. “Actually, forget it. I’ll just take her to the mall downstairs. Your clothes are way too cheap anyway. The fabric will just scratch her skin.” In that split second, the tears I had just shed for him felt like the ultimate punchline to a sick joke. “Fred, do you even hear yourself right now?” I couldn’t stop my voice from shaking. He replied with his usual, infuriating nonchalance. “What is it now? Are you throwing another tantrum? It’s just a piece of clothing, Harper. Grow up.” A hollow laugh escaped my lips. I shook my head and hung up on him. From beginning to end, he never once asked why I wasn’t home yet. He never asked where I was. His entire universe revolved solely around his precious co-star. So what exactly was I holding onto? I bit my lip and threw the wrapper into the trash can. My relationship with Fred was exactly like that convenience store food. It had expired a long time ago. Walking out of the store, my screen lit up with a text from Sienna. [Harper, please don’t get the wrong idea! Fred and I are just a contractual couple for social media. We are strictly business.] [Stop fighting with him over me. He’s so stressed out he can’t even eat.] Immediately after, she sent a selfie. Sparkling on her ring finger was a massive, flawless diamond. I recognized that ring immediately. A week ago, Fred told me his management agency wanted him to film a fake proposal with Sienna. If the video went viral, they would get a massive cash bonus. I had agreed. Nobody argues with free money. I had suggested buying a cheap prop ring online for ten bucks. He had vehemently refused. “The internet misses nothing. Who are we going to fool with a piece of cheap glass?” “I’m taking Sienna to a luxury jeweler this afternoon to pick out a bespoke piece.” I had frowned. “But that specific brand famously requires a man to register his ID. You are strictly limited to buying one in your entire lifetime. Are you seriously giving that to her?” Fred’s eyes had darkened. He impatiently twisted the watch on his wrist. “Are you acting jealous again?” “It’s literally just a prop ring. It doesn’t mean anything.” When he came home that night, he tossed the empty velvet box on my nightstand. Sienna kept the ring. As the memory faded, Sienna suddenly unsent the photo. [Oops, sorry! Sent that to the wrong person.] I saw right through her pathetic little game. I smiled faintly and typed back. [Since he proposed, I wish you both a lifetime of happiness.] A second later, Fred’s furious text popped up. [How dare you send something so spiteful to Sienna! She’s crying in the bathroom because of you!] I didn’t reply. Instead, I scrolled to the very bottom of my contacts list, tapped on a greyed-out profile picture, and sent a message. [Coach Blake, is the offer to rejoin the racing team still on the table?] [I miss being behind the wheel.] By the time I finally walked into our apartment, it was pitch black outside. The kitchen was dead silent. In the past, whenever I worked overtime, Fred would have hot soup simmering on the stove, meticulously reheating my favorite dishes right before I walked through the door. He used to say my stomach was too fragile for cold food. Now, the dining table was littered with greasy takeout boxes and dirty plates. The bedroom door swung open. Fred stood in the frame, his face dark like a thundercloud. “Are you done throwing your little fit?” “I’m not throwing a fit.” “Sienna left here in tears. She blamed herself, saying she shouldn’t have come over for dinner. If you have any free time tomorrow, you need to apologize to her before she overthinks this.” I genuinely thought I was hallucinating. “You want me to apologize?” Fred didn’t even blink. He nodded. “Yes. You had absolutely no right to text her that passive-aggressive garbage.” “You know perfectly well she and I are just coworkers.” Coworkers? I wanted to laugh until my lungs gave out. He bought her a once-in-a-lifetime diamond, cooked her lavish meals, let her linger in our apartment until midnight, and he had the nerve to call her a coworker? I opened my mouth to snap back, but he suddenly grabbed my wrist and pulled me into his chest. He buried his face into the crook of my neck, a practiced, manipulative gesture. “It’s late. Let’s just go to sleep.” “I have a Couple’s Q&A video to shoot tomorrow, and I still haven’t memorized my script.” Every rational instinct screamed at me to shove him away, but an agonizing ache squeezed my heart. It took me two full years of quiet longing to finally stand proudly by Fred’s side. When we first got together, everyone told us we were a disaster waiting to happen. He was the golden boy of his Ivy League class with a limitless future. I was a college dropout, a rough-around-the-edges street racer trying to survive in the city. After graduation, he tried to become a lifestyle influencer, but his channel completely flatlined. Meanwhile, I defied all odds, winning two major international racing circuits and becoming an overnight legend in the motorsports world. We had promised each other that once I secured my million-dollar championship prize, we would get married. But then, he hesitated. He signed a predatory contract with an influencer agency behind my back. “Harper, I want to build an empire with my own hands so I can give you the world. But the agency repackaged my image. They assigned me to a ‘couple channel’.” “For now… we have to keep our real relationship a secret.” “If you really love me, quit the racing scene. Come work as my personal assistant.” Back then, I was so blindly in love with him that I threw away my brilliant career and followed him into the shadows without a second thought. “Fred.” “I never want to see Sienna in this apartment again.” It was my final compromise. If he agreed, I would let all of this go. He stayed silent for two agonizing seconds. Then he sighed. “When did you become so petty?” I froze. His tone was entirely flat. “You were acting like a brat, refusing to come home. Sienna and I were both worried sick about you. That’s why she texted you. I can’t believe you insulted her for caring.” Fred looked at me with deep exhaustion. He looked at me the way a parent looks at a toddler throwing a tantrum in a grocery store. Worried about me? If he was so worried, why didn’t he text me himself? Was he genuinely worried, or was he just annoyed that my absence ruined his perfect evening? A gaping hole ripped open in my chest, letting the freezing wind howl through. I lowered my head. Fat tears spilled over my lashes, soaking the collar of my shirt. “Look at you. Crying again.” “When are you going to grow up and be mature like Sienna?” Fred let out a heavy sigh, gave me a condescending pat on the head, and walked back into the bedroom to sleep. He didn’t care that my heart was breaking. Just like every single time before, he refused to fix the problem, expecting me to swallow my own pain and get over it by morning. But this time, I refused to swallow it. I wiped my eyes dry and forwarded my recent medical and physical reports to Coach Blake. [Coach, I’m still in peak condition.] [Put me in the West Coast Rally next week. I’ll prove I still have it.] I opened the bottom drawer of my closet, pulled out my dusty, heavy racing suit, and meticulously ironed out every single wrinkle. From the bed, Fred shifted in his sleep, mumbling something under his breath. My hands stopped moving. I heard his sleep-talking crystal clear. “Sienna… Sienna…” Right. I set the iron down, walked straight into the living room, gathered every single box of his obscenely expensive Cuban cigars, and dumped them into the kitchen sink. Then I turned on the faucet and let them drown. Without looking back, I zipped up my racing suit and headed straight to the training track. At nine the next morning, I walked into the influencer agency with massive dark circles under my eyes. A few passing coworkers gave me sympathetic looks. “Harper, are you okay? You look totally exhausted.” Everyone noticed. Except Fred. He was standing under the studio lights, pacing back and forth with a script in his hand. Sienna was standing right beside him, fresh out of the makeup chair. She rested her hand on his shoulder. “Don’t stress. We can edit out any mistakes. Besides, your assistant is right here.” She walked over and shoved a thick stack of cue cards into my chest. “Harper, if Fred forgets his lines, you stand off-camera and prompt him.” “And remember. In this building, you are just an assistant.” I swallowed the bile rising in my throat and nodded. In this company, every single person thought I was just a glorified intern. Nobody knew I had been Fred’s loyal partner in the shadows for five years. “Question one! Where did we first meet?” On camera, Sienna looked sickeningly sweet, resting her chin on Fred’s shoulder. Fred answered without missing a beat. “At an internet cafe. You told me I was amazing at gaming.” Sienna giggled and playfully hit his chest. “I did that on purpose! I thought you were cute and wanted an excuse to talk to you.” “You little schemer,” Fred grinned, his eyes overflowing with genuine affection. “Next question! What was our first…” Before Fred could finish reading the card, Sienna suddenly leaned in and kissed him directly on the lips. The entire production crew gasped. I panicked, frantically flipping through the script. That kiss was absolutely not on the page. Fred’s ears burned bright red. He nervously darted a glance toward where I was standing in the shadows. “Did I shock you guys?” Sienna playfully stuck out her tongue at the camera. “He’s my boyfriend. I can kiss him whenever I want.” My nails dug so hard into my palms they almost drew blood. My vision blurred with tears. Sienna had blatantly gone off script, but not a single director called cut. I even heard a lighting tech whisper, “They are so perfect for each other.” A hot tear slipped down my cheek. Unable to stomach another second, I dropped the cue cards and practically sprinted to the restroom. A few minutes later, the heavy restroom door creaked open. Two people walked in, and the deadbolt clicked shut. “Sienna, Harper was standing right there. How could you just kiss me like that?” It was Fred. I slapped a hand over my mouth, suffocating the gasp in my throat. “I’m sorry, I just got completely lost in the moment. Sometimes I… I actually forget we’re faking it.” Sienna’s voice was fragile, practically dripping with vulnerability. “Oh, by the way,” she said, her tone shifting slightly. “Here. You left your watch on my nightstand when you came over.” My heart plummeted into a bottomless abyss. When did Fred go to her house? “Oh, right. Last Thursday.” Fred’s casual confirmation felt like a physical knife twisting in my gut. Last Thursday, I was in the emergency room with a severe gastric infection. I had called him thirteen times. He ignored every single one. By the time I woke up from surgery, he texted me a pathetic: ‘Was busy with a brand deal.’ He wasn’t busy with work. He was busy rolling around in Sienna’s bed. A self-deprecating smile stretched across my face. The last microscopic shred of love I held for Fred disintegrated into ash. Just then, my phone violently vibrated in my pocket. “Wait, there’s someone in one of the stalls!” Sienna’s voice sharpened into panic. Her high heels clicked loudly on the tiles, walking closer. My heart leaped into my throat as I frantically jammed the mute button. “You’re hearing things, it’s empty.” Fred quickly unbolted the main door and pulled Sienna out into the hallway. I pressed my hand against my chest, my heart threatening to crack my ribs. I looked down at the glowing screen. It was a text from Coach Blake. [Let’s see what you’ve got.] Three seconds later, another message popped up. [Harper, I believe in you.] Instantly, the tears I had been fighting back broke free, streaming down my face. I wiped my face clean, walked straight out of the bathroom, and marched into the HR office to formally resign. Fred chased me out to the parking lot, aggressively demanding answers. “What is your problem? Did someone say something to you? Who offended you this time?” He paused, a mocking smirk appearing on his lips. “Wait. Don’t tell me you’re still throwing a tantrum because I bought Sienna dinner.” I didn’t say a word. He nodded like he had just solved a massive mystery. “No wonder you ruined my entire stash of cigars. You’re still drowning in jealousy.” “I have had absolutely enough of you, Harper!” I stopped walking. I turned around and looked him dead in the eyes. I had never felt this calm in my entire life. “I’ve had enough of you too, Fred.” It was the first time in five years I had ever spoken to him with such cold, absolute finality. He flinched, visibly taken aback. “Oh my god, I am so sorry! This is all my fault. I’m the reason you two are fighting!” Sienna suddenly sprinted across the asphalt, her eyes red and puffy. “Harper, if you’re mad, just hit me. Slap me until you feel better.” Before I could react, she grabbed my wrist with terrifying strength and yanked my hand violently toward her own face. I tried to rip my arm away, but her grip was like a vice. “Ahhhh!” A piercing scream shattered the air. She suddenly let go of my wrist. A long, bloody scratch marked the entire left side of her cheek. She collapsed flawlessly into Fred’s chest. “My face… Fred, it burns so bad…” “I didn’t touch her, Fred, listen to me, there are security cameras right over—” “Shut up!” Fred’s eyes turned lethal. “I watched you do it with my own eyes, and you’re still trying to lie to my face?!” “Do you have any idea that her face is her entire career?! How is she supposed to shoot the brand campaigns tomorrow looking like this?!” It finally clicked. To protect Sienna’s flawless image, he was fully prepared to pin the blame on me. A crowd of employees gathered in the lot, their whispers turning into toxic venom. “Harper is so violently jealous of Sienna’s looks. She definitely slashed her on purpose.” “She really thought a nobody assistant like her could lock down a guy like Fred. Delusional.” “Fred would never settle for trash like her. No wonder she’s quitting. She probably got rejected and lost her mind.” Fred heard every single insult hurled at me, yet he stood there like a statue. He didn’t defend me once. My fingers brushed against my chest. There was no physical wound, but it felt like I was bleeding to death. I stopped defending myself. I turned my back on the circus and walked out of the corporate park. I hailed a cab and headed straight to the racing circuit. Once I was seated, I sent Fred a breakup text. Then, I powered off my phone, severing every single tie I had to the outside world, and threw myself entirely into my training. Late that night, after a grueling day of damage control and filming, Fred dragged himself into the apartment. “Harper, pour me a glass of water.” He yelled out of pure habit. The only response was the echo of his own voice in the empty rooms. “Tch. Throwing another invisible tantrum.” He casually pulled out his phone. His lock screen displayed a single message. [Fred, we are done. We’re breaking up.] He scoffed, swiped the notification away without a second thought, took a shower, scrolled through some videos, and fell into a deep sleep. Days bled into a week. I never came home. Fred finally started to panic. Was I actually serious this time? He started calling my number. It went straight to voicemail. He sent texts. No reply. “Damn it! Harper, don’t make me—” His voice cut off abruptly. He stared blankly at the massive flat-screen TV in the living room. It was broadcasting the live post-race press conference of the West Coast Rally. I was standing on the podium, radiating absolute confidence, hoisting the massive gold championship trophy above my head as camera flashes blinded the room. After answering technical questions about the engine specs, a reporter leaned in with a cheeky smile. “Harper, an incredible driver like you must have guys lining up around the block. Is there a lucky man cheering for you today?” I looked directly into the camera lens and offered a bright, genuine smile. “I am completely single.” In that exact moment, Fred picked up a heavy glass ashtray and shattered the TV screen.

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