Category: English

In the city of Southwood, during a prestigious violin competition, my father’s illegitimate daughter snapped my bow in half. I snatched hers, took the stage, and played a melody so breathtaking it stunned the entire audience. Sarah, the illegitimate daughter, fled the country in tears, humiliated by the crowd’s mockery. That night, my childhood friends—twin brothers from the wealthy Sterling family—both proposed to me. After some thought, I chose the older brother, Liam. But eight months later, as I lay hemorrhaging during childbirth, he looked at me with cold hatred. “If you hadn’t stolen Sarah’s bow, she wouldn’t have stayed away for so long. You ruined our future together. Now, you have to pay.” I begged the other twin, Lucas, to take me to the hospital. Instead, I heard him say to someone else: “She’s finally bleeding out? My year of personally overseeing her diet wasn’t in vain. When she bullied Sarah, did she ever think karma would come for her?” Only then did I realize their proposals were just revenge for Sarah. I died, taking my unborn child with me. A year later, Sarah returned from her “vacation” abroad to accept the marriage alliance with the Sterling family. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the violin competition. Everyone thought I would forfeit. Instead, I waved my hand. “Bring me my best violin! I’m going to make her cry so hard she won’t have tears left!” When my final note resonated through the hall, the applause was thunderous—far louder than what Sarah had received. Sarah stood frozen, hand over her mouth in shock. I glanced at her. “Now, someone can run away crying and buy a plane ticket to flee the country.” Just like she did in my past life. But Sarah didn’t move. She just stood there, slumped in disbelief. In that instant, a chill ran down my spine— Was she reborn too? In my past life, even after she left, she kept tabs on everything back home. That’s why she returned to marry into the Sterling family the moment I died. Only someone who knew my fate in the previous life would be this shocked to see me fight back with my best violin instead of quitting. But she was wrong. Her schemes from the past life wouldn’t break me this time. I came back for one thing: to slap them all in the face. Having delivered my perfect opening act, I bowed deeply to the audience and prepared to leave. But just as I was about to exit, two pairs of hands grabbed me. “Frost, your performance was exquisite. We are both captivated. Which of us has the honor of winning your favor?” My heart skipped a beat— Liam Sterling. Lucas Sterling. In my past life, they only came to propose after I left the venue. Why were they doing this publicly now? Looking into their eyes, my breath hitched— I wasn’t wrong. These were the same cold eyes that watched me bleed out in agony in my past life. So… They were all reborn. “Neither.” I shook them off and walked away. “Frost.” Liam, the older brother, called out to me. “This competition was organized for the purpose of a marriage alliance. Since you participated, you should follow the rules.” I paused— This was a marriage alliance competition? No wonder Sarah targeted me so viciously. I turned to look at the brothers. Though they were smiling at me, their eyes kept darting toward Sarah, who was crying in the corner. They couldn’t hide the heartache in their gaze. I felt a wave of irony wash over me— In my past life, just because Sarah said she didn’t want to see me, they conspired to kill me and my unborn child. In this life, were they trying to avenge Sarah in a different way? I smiled. “Do you really want to marry me?” “Of course, Frost.” Both men stepped forward, dropping to one knee, looking up at me with devotion. “We grew up together. I promise I love you more than my brother does.” “No, Frost. I may not be as mature as my brother, but I swear I will love you with everything I have!” I pointed at Liam, just like in my past life. “I choose you.” Liam’s lips curled into a smile, as if he expected this. But then I added: “The dowry is 100 billion dollars. Do you accept?” “What?” The brothers looked up in shock. Even Sarah couldn’t help but step forward. “Sister, marriage isn’t a business transaction. How can you bully the brothers like this!” “Since when does an illegitimate daughter have the right to speak here?” I shot her a cold glance. Just that one look made both brothers stand up instantly, shielding Sarah behind them. As if I were about to hurt her. I laughed. It was a bitter, mocking laugh— Once, they protected me like this too. They swore to guard me for life. We were born when our families were on the brink of collapse. To help Liam escape assassins, I dressed as him to lure them away and broke my leg in the process. To help Lucas, who had rare blood, recover from injuries, I donated blood until I passed out, multiple times. They once held me, swearing to repay me with their lives, working tirelessly to restore their family’s glory just to protect me. But the moment my father brought Sarah home, their world narrowed to just her. If Sarah said she liked something, they would take the gifts I painstakingly prepared and give them to her. If Sarah shed a single tear, the two who never dared speak a harsh word to me would demand I take responsibility for her sadness. Looking at the two men guarding Sarah like a treasure, I sneered. “See? You don’t genuinely want to marry me. 100 billion is a lot, but it’s not something you can’t afford. “If you aren’t even willing to show this much sincerity, how can I trust you?” I turned to leave. “Wait!” They called out in panic. Liam gritted his teeth. “Okay…” “Really?” I turned back immediately, handing over a hastily drafted asset agreement. “Then sign it.” Liam frowned, but he signed. That day, the brothers left with the teary-eyed Sarah, leaving me alone at the venue. But I didn’t care. The moment the 100 billion hit my account, I made a call. “Yes, I’m coming to Europe to find you. When will I return?” I laughed. “I won’t be returning.” There was a pause on the other end, followed by a low chuckle. “Pleasure doing business with you, Miss Song.” Hanging up, I looked at the endless zeros in my account and smirked— Did they really think I’d marry either of them? But considering what they did to me in my past life, this compensation was well-deserved. I didn’t care where Sarah or the brothers went. I packed my bags and had a farewell dinner with my friends. But in the middle of the party, a group of bodyguards stormed in and dragged me away. When I opened my eyes, a slap landed hard on my face. Lucas looked down at me with contempt. “Bitch! The Sterling family already gave you 100 billion. Why won’t you let Sarah go?!” I was stunned. Only then did I see Sarah, dressed in tattered clothes, sobbing in Liam’s arms. “I know Sister is marrying into the Sterling family and plans to leave the country, but why couldn’t she let me go? She sent a dozen men to… to ruin me? “If the brothers hadn’t arrived in time, I would have…” Even the usually calm Liam had veins popping on his hands. “Song Frost.” His voice was colder than in my past life. “Apologize.” “Heh.” I spat out blood. “You believe the words of an illegitimate daughter?” Sarah cried even harder. The brothers looked at her with undisguised heartache, then shouted at me: “Song Frost! Kneel and apologize!” I lifted my chin high. “No. If anyone should apologize, it’s this bitch and her shameless mother who drove my mom to her death!” “You!” Another slap hit my face. Liam struck me for the first time. “I’m asking you one more time. Will you kneel?” My vision went black, ears ringing. I could barely stand. But I gritted my teeth and squeezed out a sentence: “Only if you kill me!” “Heh…” Liam laughed in anger and nodded. Immediately, someone dragged me to the swimming pool. A kick to the back of my knees forced me down with a splash. “Death is too easy for a vicious woman like you. You should taste what you did to Sarah.” My head was pushed down, inches from the water. Terror made my breathing erratic. “No! Liam! Lucas! You know I’m terrified of water!” “Push her down!” My face submerged. The suffocating feeling brought back the memories— Back when the brothers were thrown into the sea by enemies, I desperately pulled them to shore, only to be swept away by a riptide. Rescue teams searched for three days and nights before finding me clinging to a piece of drift wood, unconscious. Since then, I’ve been terrified of water, even pools. In the past, if anyone even pointed a shower head at me as a joke, the brothers would cut all business ties with them, ignoring their begging. Now, they were drowning me themselves over a fabricated crime. The bodyguards dunked me repeatedly. My lungs burned, heavy and unable to breathe. Finally, Sarah whimpered that she forgave me, and they threw me onto the ground. I couldn’t breathe. I reached out weakly toward them. “Help me… I… can’t breathe…” “Stop acting.” They quickly shielded Sarah behind them. “What you suffered isn’t one-thousandth of what you did to Sarah. Trying to play the victim now?” I couldn’t speak. My face was turning blue. But they only saw Sarah’s red eyes. They left with her immediately, abandoning me. Darkness took me. When I woke up, the doctor sighed. “Lucky the cleaner found you. How did you manage to drown in such a shallow pool?” I couldn’t speak. “Speaking of which, you almost died. Why isn’t your family here?” Family? Thinking of my late mother, I held back tears. “They’re busy…” “Busier than the family next door? “The girl in the next room, I heard her two brothers are CEOs. They stopped doing business just to be with her, even though she wasn’t even hurt. You’re much worse off. “Think her name is Sarah Song. Sounds like yours.” I closed my eyes and said nothing. I discharged myself that day, unwilling to hear the laughter from the next room. Liam didn’t contact me for a while. When he heard nothing from me, assuming I had learned my lesson, he messaged: [Engagement ceremony tonight.] I didn’t refuse. I even arrived half an hour early. Everyone said I was eager for this engagement. The brothers thought so too. But once everyone arrived, the big screen suddenly played the footage of me being drowned in the pool. My desperate screams echoed through the hall. Liam frowned deeply. “What are you doing!” I stood up and took the microphone. “Everyone saw what the Sterling brothers did. From today on, I, Song Frost, sever all ties with Liam and Lucas Sterling!” “Oh my god! Didn’t the Sterling brothers propose? Are they bullying their fiancée and future sister-in-law for an illegitimate daughter?” “Even if she wasn’t their fiancée, that’s too cruel!” “Miss Song is right! Cut them off!” … “I’m sorry! It’s all because of me that the brothers are being blackmailed by my sister. I’ll leave now. I hope sister can calm down!” Sarah suddenly cried and turned to run. The brothers quickly pulled her into their arms, frowning at me. “If you want to throw a tantrum, don’t drag Sarah into it! Explain yourself and apologize to her!” “Apologize to an illegitimate daughter? Seriously?” “You!” “Liam. Lucas.” I looked at them steadily. “We will never see each other again.” I brushed past their shoulders and walked away. They froze. Just as they were about to stop me, my father’s voice boomed: “Scoundrel! Who are you calling illegitimate!” I turned to see my stepmother, Linda Liu, crying in his arms as they walked out. Father took the microphone. “I’m sorry, everyone. Actually, Song Frost is my illegitimate daughter. For years, I pitied her for losing her mother, so I claimed Sarah was the illegitimate one. “But I didn’t expect Song Frost to be so ungrateful. Bullying Sarah was bad enough, but now she insults her at her own engagement! “I won’t indulge her anymore. Today I’m telling you all— “Song Frost is the child of my first love. Her mother died before we could marry. Sarah and my wife pitied her, which is why she acts so entitled.” “What?!” The crowd was shocked. “So Song Frost is the bastard!” “Her mom got pregnant out of wedlock? Tsk tsk! Like mother like daughter.” Only Liam and Lucas weren’t surprised. They narrowed their eyes at me. “We knew you bullied Sarah long ago.” “Heh…”

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When I was reborn, I dodged every opportunity to bond with the parents who had found me after fifteen years of separation. They decided to hand the family empire to my older sister, Minkie. So, I dropped my business major and applied to a geology program in the rugged wilderness of Alaska. They wanted to throw a lavish birthday gala for Minkie, so I volunteered for a remote field expedition. They bought Minkie a limited-edition sports car as a graduation gift. I “sensibly” walked into traffic, breaking both legs just so I could say I didn’t need a car. In my past life, I starved for my parents’ affection until the day I died, despised by everyone. Even my own son, in my old age, would frown at me and say, “Mom, can you stop competing with Aunt Minkie? Why can’t you just live quietly? You’re embarrassing me in front of my friends.” I died full of resentment, only to open my eyes and find myself back at the moment I was eighteen, just found by my biological family. This time, I’m done fighting. I will let them have their perfect, happy family. 1 Staring at the “Application Submitted” notification on my laptop screen, I calmly closed the browser tab. No one knew this was the second time I had filled out my college applications. In my previous life, I followed their orders. I attended a top-tier Ivy League business school, desperate to stay close to them, desperate to mold myself into someone worthy of the prestigious Vanderbilt name. After all, ever since I—the lost daughter returned after fifteen years—came back, I had been nothing but a stain on their reputation. But in this life, before they could even broach the subject of Minkie taking over the company, I spoke first. “Dad, Mom, I’ve applied to the University of Alaska for Geology.” The silence at the dinner table was deafening. My father, Richard, set down his fork, his brow furrowing deeply. “Geology? In Alaska? What are you going to learn there? How to dig for rocks in the snow?” My mother, Eleanor, let out a soft gasp, her eyes wide with undisguised shock. “Sophia, honey, is it your grades? Did you not score high enough? It’s okay, we can make a donation to…” I had been back for nearly two weeks, yet neither of them knew I was a straight-A student. They simply assumed the girl from the foster system was uneducated trash. “My scores are perfect,” I cut her off. “I chose it because I like it.” Minkie sat across from me, feigning concern. “Sophie, are you under too much pressure lately? That kind of place is brutal. I know you’re used to… hardship… but is this necessary?” I looked at her. In my past life, she always played the saint, yet her words were laced with barbs designed to trigger me. She remained elegant and poised, while I looked like an ungrateful savage screaming at her. But in this life, her hidden thorns couldn’t pierce my skin. “I’ve thought it through,” I said, lowering my head, my voice even. ” The application is in. It can’t be changed.” The air grew stagnant. Richard finally scoffed. “Fine. It’s your choice. Don’t come crying to me when you regret it.” Eleanor sighed, and for the first time, she used her serving chopsticks to place a prawn in my bowl. “Let’s just eat. We can discuss this later.” I didn’t touch the prawn. She didn’t know I was severely allergic to shellfish. Minkie, however, loved seafood, so the family ate it almost daily. Every meal here felt like navigating a minefield. For the rest of the dinner, the three of them chatted happily. I finished quickly and excused myself, abandoning the exhausting effort to fit in that defined my previous life. I knew now that this house never had room for me. 2 Back in my room, I opened my calendar. Forty-three days until the semester began. I took a red marker and drew a small ‘X’ over today’s date. Every day was a countdown to my escape. I looked around the room. Every piece of furniture was expensive, imported, and utterly soulless. It looked like a showroom in a luxury catalog, not a home. To me, it couldn’t compare to the drafty, creaky farmhouse my foster parents owned. That place was freezing in winter and sweltering in summer, but it was filled with the warmth of life. In the fifteen years of my past life, I drained all my passion and hope within these cold walls. I learned etiquette, forced myself to get perfect grades, gave up the major I loved, and even married into a strategic alliance they chose—all to beg for a scrap of warmth from my “family.” And what did I get? My parents’ exasperated sighs: “Sophia, why can’t you be effortless like Minkie?” My sister’s gaslighting: “Mom, Dad, don’t blame Sophie. She just cares too much about what you think.” My husband’s cold indifference: “Sophia, aside from your last name, is there anything about you that actually belongs in this world?” And finally, my son’s rejection. I died of illness caused by decades of depression. I fought for a lifetime, only to be detested by everyone. The phantom sensation of suffocation still lingered in my chest. This time, I won’t fight. Your love, your company, your picture-perfect trio… I want none of it. I only want myself. The next morning, when I went downstairs, the living room was filled with laughter. 3 Minkie was nestled on the sofa, linking arms with Mother, resting her head on Eleanor’s shoulder as they reviewed the guest list in Father’s hand. “Let’s invite all the prominent families from the Hamptons and the City, Mom. I want a big birthday bash this year.” Minkie’s voice was sweet, almost childlike. “Of course, darling, whatever you say.” That was Mother’s voice, dripping with indulgence. “Minkie is a young woman now; it’s appropriate to invite important figures for networking,” Father added approvingly. They were a perfect oil painting of happiness. I was just a stray smudge on the canvas. I walked past them silently, heading to the kitchen for water. “Oh, Sophia, you’re up?” Mother saw me, and her smile instantly dimmed, her tone shifting to polite formality. “It’s your sister’s birthday early next month. We’re hosting a party here. You’ll attend, of course?” Next month. That was exactly when I planned to leave early for Alaska to acclimatize. In my past life, I canceled a crucial internship for this party—my debut as a Vanderbilt daughter. I thought it was my chance to belong. The result? Despite cramming etiquette lessons for a month, I was clumsy. Minkie’s sorority sisters pointed and laughed, and I became the evening’s joke. The fifteen years I was missing created a chasm between me and this glittering world that nothing could bridge. “No,” I heard my own voice, calm and steady. “I signed up for a pre-semester field orientation. I have to leave early next month.” The living room went silent. Minkie reacted first, a flicker of joy in her eyes masked by concern. “Field orientation? That sounds exhausting, Sophie. And dangerous, isn’t it? It’s so much nicer to stay home.” Richard’s brow furrowed again, visibly annoyed. “What kind of orientation is mandatory? Cancel it. It’s your sister’s birthday. How does it look if you’re not there?” Here we go again. My life, my plans, were always the ones that could be sacrificed. I gripped my glass, knuckles turning white, but my voice remained flat. “It’s booked. I can’t cancel.” “You!” Father started to raise his voice. Mother quickly intervened. “Alright, alright, if she doesn’t want to go… It’s good Sophia has her own plans. Just be safe.” I mumbled an acknowledgment and went back upstairs. Behind me, I heard Minkie’s gentle voice. “Mom, Dad, don’t be mad. Sophie just isn’t close to us yet. She’ll come around…” She was always the sensible one. And I was always the ungrateful wolf cub. 4 I tuned out the noise downstairs. In my room, I began to pack. I didn’t have much. The traces of my existence in this house were pathetic. Most of the clothes and items were things Mother had the housekeeper buy in bulk when I returned—expensive, but chosen with zero thought. There was only one small, battered suitcase containing the old clothes I brought from my foster home and a photo album. It held the only picture I had with my foster parents. In the photo, they held a skinny, scrawny me, their faces wrinkled with smiles, their eyes full of love. That was my real warmth. I rubbed my thumb over the photo, my eyes stinging. After I was abducted, the traffickers dumped me halfway because a girl wasn’t “worth much.” My foster parents saved me and raised me. Tragically, they died in a car accident earlier this year. It was the news coverage of that accident that allowed the Vanderbilts to find me. Sometimes, I wished they never had. I carefully tucked the album into the bottom of the suitcase. I took out my bank book. It held the savings from my part-time jobs and the small inheritance my foster parents left me. It wasn’t a fortune, but it was enough to get me to Alaska and cover my first semester’s rent. I didn’t intend to spend a single penny of Vanderbilt money. 5 Dinner that evening was tense. Father ate in sullen silence. Mother tried to lighten the mood, chattering about the menu for the party. Minkie played along, occasionally steering the conversation toward me, trying to bait me into a reaction. “Sophie, I heard the wind in the northwest strips your skin right off. It’s so dry. You’ll need a ton of moisturizer.” “Mm.” “The food there is really heavy and greasy, too. With your weak stomach, you should be careful.” “I know.” My cold, monosyllabic answers made Mother’s attempts at cheerfulness awkward. Finally, she put down her chopsticks. “Sophia, do you have a problem with us?” I looked up. Father glared at me, his eyes judging. Minkie wore her practiced look of worry. It was such a familiar scene. In my past life, any expression of pain or injustice was twisted into me “having an attitude” or being ungrateful. “No,” I said, looking back down at my plate. “I’m just an adult now. I want to walk my own path.” “Your path is running off to the tundra to suffer?” Father’s voice vibrated with suppressed rage. “Did we starve you? Did we deny you clothes? Why are you so desperate to leave this house?” Yes, I am desperate. I answered in my head. Out loud, I stayed calm. “Geology is a critical field for resource development. I find it meaningful.” I gave them a generic, noble answer they couldn’t attack. Father was stumped. His face darkened, but he couldn’t argue with “meaningful.” Mother jumped in. “Okay, okay, ambition is good… let’s eat, the soup is getting cold.” I was the first to set down my bowl. “I’m full. Please, take your time.” I turned and walked to the stairs. Behind me, I heard Father’s hiss. “Look at her! Look at how she was raised! Zero manners!” And Mother’s soothing whisper. “Hush, Richard. She grew up in the country. It’s normal for her to be short-sighted…” I entered my room emotionless. To them, I would always be the unwashed, short-sighted hillbilly. 6 I locked the door. Finally, peace. I opened my laptop and researched rental apartments near the university. Since I was leaving for good, I wouldn’t stay in the dorms. I needed a space that was entirely mine. After booking a small studio, I crossed off another day on the calendar. Forty-two days. Time was moving too slowly. For the next few weeks, I became a ghost in the house. They were consumed with Minkie’s graduation and birthday. No one paid attention to my “rebellion.” My parents bought Minkie a Range Rover for graduation. I happened to be in the driveway when it was delivered. Mother looked slightly embarrassed. “This is for your sister. If you want one…” I immediately cut in, playing the role perfectly. “I don’t need one. I don’t drive well anyway. It would be a waste.” Mother visibly relaxed. “We’ll pick something else for you next time.” There would be no next time. They would forget me the moment I turned the corner. I was used to being forgotten. And that was fine. I didn’t want their gifts. I spent my days at the library, leaving early and returning late. Occasionally, I’d run into employees from Father’s company. They would politely call me “Miss Sophia,” but their eyes held pity or disdain. Everyone knew I was the awkward appendage of the Vanderbilt family. Not like Minkie—the celebrated socialite, the pride of her parents. My existence served only one purpose: to prove the Vanderbilts were benevolent enough to take back the stray dog. How ironic. 7 The day of departure finally arrived. I booked a red-eye train ticket. I told no one. The night before, I dragged my packed suitcase into the living room. The three of them were on the couch watching a reality show Minkie loved, laughing together. The laughter died instantly when they saw the luggage. “Sister? What are you…” “My train is tonight. I’m heading to school.” I kept it brief. “Tonight? In such a rush?” Mother stood up, flustered. “Why didn’t you say so? I’ll have the driver take you!” “No need. I called a cab.” Father’s face was dark. He said nothing. “You child… why are you so stubborn?” Mother stepped forward to fix my collar, but I turned slightly, dodging her touch. Her hand froze in mid-air, her expression hurt. A faint ripple of emotion crossed my heart, then vanished. Some damage is permanent. The touch I craved in my last life was something I no longer needed in this one. “I’ll handle my own tuition and living expenses,” I said, looking at them like I was discussing the weather. “You won’t need to worry about me anymore.” “What nonsense are you spouting!” Father slammed his hand on the armrest and stood up. “Sophia! Do you have to be this dramatic? Has this family mistreated you? Is that why you’re talking like this?” “Richard!” Mother grabbed his arm. Minkie chimed in, “Dad, don’t be mad! Sophie didn’t mean it…” She turned to me, eyes pleading. “Sophie, apologize to Dad. You’re just angry, right?” I looked at them, and suddenly, I felt exhausted. “I’m telling the truth,” I said, gripping the handle of my suitcase. “I’m leaving.” I turned my back on their reactions and walked toward the heavy oak door. “Sophia Vanderbilt! If you walk out that door today, don’t you dare come back!” Father’s roar echoed through the high ceilings. My footsteps paused for a fraction of a second. I didn’t turn around. “Okay.” The word was barely a whisper, yet it took every ounce of strength I had. Then, I opened the door and stepped out.

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My best friend, divorced and looking for a fresh start, moved to the city to live with me. For three years, I covered everything. Food, rent, you name it. I split my clothes, my jewelry, my handbags right down the middle with her. We were inseparable. Even my boyfriend couldn’t help but tease me. “Seven out of ten dates, and you bring your best friend along.” “What’s next? Is she going to be part of the dowry when we get married?” My friend, Lena, playfully punched him on the shoulder. “Hey, I’m like her second mom. Of course I have to keep an eye on you, make sure you’re not mistreating my darling Cici.” The three of us would laugh and roughhouse like that, a happy little tangle of limbs. With a soulmate and a loving partner by my side, I felt truly blessed. Until the day before my wedding, when I stumbled upon a viral post. [She used to be the one looking down on me, handing out her charity.] [Now, it’s finally my turn to pity her. I’m letting her have the man.] The accompanying photo was of my boyfriend, Alex, hanging wedding decorations in our new home. … Just two days ago, the three of us were setting up the apartment. Lena was folding red paper lanterns, chattering away about all the things I needed to prepare for the wedding day. Suddenly, her voice cracked. “Cici, after the wedding, I’m moving south.” “It’ll be so hard to see each other…” Her eyes were red, as if she were a mother sending her own daughter off, filled with a genuine sadness and reluctance. Alex, who was taping decorations to the wall, paused. He turned and gave us a long, searching look, a hint of melancholy in his own expression. Lena grabbed a handful of confetti and tossed it at him playfully. “If you ever dare to hurt Cici, I’ll never forgive you.” Alex, usually a neat freak, didn’t even get annoyed. He just bent down to clean up the mess, his voice muffled. “If her ‘second mom’ is that worried, why don’t you just stay in the city?” “You can have my downtown apartment, rent-free. That way you can supervise me whenever you want, and my Cici won’t be so sad.” Lena’s eyes lit up instantly. She shot me a hesitant glance. “I don’t know… that’s a huge condo. The rent is at least three thousand a month. And after you’re married, it’ll be part of Cici’s assets.” I was ecstatic. I completely missed the flicker of resentment in Lena’s tone. She was the older sister I never had, living next door since we were kids. In high school, when a bully took a pair of scissors to my hair, Lena grabbed the nearest stick and charged. When my first love cheated on me at twenty, Lena slapped him so hard his ear bled. We couldn’t afford the settlement, so she spent five days in a holding cell for assault. When she got out, the first thing she did was comfort me. “Cici, you’re such a pushover. What are you going to do if your husband bullies you after you get married?” “Then we just won’t get married. We’ll buy a big house together, get a cat, and when we’re old, we’ll sit on a park bench and sip bubble tea.” That’s why, when I started dating Alex, Lena resented him for ruining our retirement plan. And Alex constantly complained about how much of my time she took up. They were always at each other’s throats, sniping and bickering, sometimes getting so worked up their faces would turn red. I was always the one in the middle, trying to smooth things over. So when Alex suddenly seemed to understand how much I didn’t want Lena to move so far away, and even supported us staying close, I was overjoyed. I grabbed her hand, my voice bubbling with excitement. “That’s perfect! That apartment is just a short drive from our place! We can have our cat-cuddling, binge-watching nights again!” “Well… in that case, I’ll stay. Someone has to make sure Alex doesn’t have a secret mistress stashed away somewhere.” At that moment, Lena and Alex exchanged a look, the corners of their mouths twitching upwards. They both smiled at me. And I see it now. They were laughing at me. At my wholehearted, foolish trust. But… Lena? How could it be Lena? When my ex cheated on me, she was the one who was the most heartbroken for me. She stayed up all night, listening to me cry, doing everything she could to make me smile. My fingertips were numb as I scrolled through the post. A lot of the comments were tearing her apart, calling her a shameless backstabber. But she replied. [She deserves it.] [When we were kids, she was the one trailing after me, eating my snacks, wearing my hand-me-down dresses.] [Now that she’s landed a rich guy, she’s always tossing me her cast-offs, acting all high and mighty with her charity. It makes me sick.] Lena had always struggled financially, but she refused any money or expensive gifts from me. I remember one day, Alex and I picked her up from work and overheard her coworkers mocking her for wearing the same few outfits on rotation. After that, whenever we went shopping, I would secretly take note of the things she lingered on. Then I’d buy them, cut off the tags, and remove the packaging. Lena, these don’t really suit me. Can you do me a favor and take them off my hands? So that’s what she thought it was. Charity. The tone of the comments shifted. [OMG, the audacity!] [Girl, I support you. Steal her man. And when you’re done with him, toss him back.] [How’d you do it? Teach me your ways!] Lena replied with a string of thank yous and winking emojis. [At first, I felt bad. I just wanted to test him, see if he was reliable enough for her.] [He was pretty standoffish in the beginning, but that just made me want him more.] [The other night, my ‘best friend’ had a high fever. I deliberately wore her nightgown and walked around the living room. When her boyfriend came out with a glass of water and saw me, his ears turned bright red.] [Let’s just say the difference between an A-cup and a D-cup is… significant.] [I won’t go into details. But let’s just say, while my best friend was sleeping in the bedroom, he and I were busy in the living room. All. Night. Long.] I remembered waking up that morning, my fever broken. Lena was slumped by my bed, mumbling about how sore her back was. I had scolded Alex for sleeping soundly while Lena stayed up all night taking care of me. Lena had just laughed. “Don’t be too hard on him. He was… working pretty hard last night too… taking care of you. You’re going to be so happy with him.” It felt like a thousand steel needles were being driven into my heart, over and over again. Twelve years of friendship, and only now did I see her second face. All her blessings and well wishes were just a cover for her betrayal. The comment section was going wild. [Damn girl, you’re a genius! Her boyfriend got a serious upgrade.] [How did your friend land a rich guy with that body anyway?] [But wait, isn’t he scared she’ll find out?] Lena replied with more smug emojis. [Of course he is. Terrified.] [That’s why he gave me a credit card with a ten-thousand-dollar monthly limit. Hush money.] [The funniest part is, I told my ‘friend’ that all rich men have mistresses. The idiot would never in a million years guess that I’m the one spending her boyfriend’s money.] [But I think… I think he’s actually falling for me.] [It used to be just sex. Now he secretly asks me to keep him company when he works late. He’ll fly for hours just to eat at some hole-in-the-wall place with me.] [The other day, he even said he wished he had met me sooner. That if he had, I’d be the one trying on a wedding dress right now.] A tidal wave of humiliation and pain crashed over me, threatening to drown me. I stumbled into the bathroom. I stood under the shower, letting the cold water pour over me, again and again, but I couldn’t calm the storm inside. Through a daze, I heard Alex calling my name. He burst in, his face a mask of panic, and swept me into his arms. I was a ragdoll, my soul sucked out of me. I let him numbly strip off my drenched clothes, carefully towel me dry, and wrap me tightly in layers of blankets. “Cici, what’s wrong? Are you not feeling well?” His words of concern were the final straw. The tears came, a hot, endless torrent. The moonlight streamed through the window, illuminating the photo of us on the nightstand. I had been studying in Germany. The day I arrived, my luggage and passport were stolen. The police were useless. When Alex found out, he jumped on the first flight out, and didn’t leave my side until everything was sorted. No matter when, no matter where, he had said, if you need me, I’ll be there. I asked myself again and again. How could it be him? The man who would tilt the umbrella so I wouldn’t get wet, who set all his passwords to our anniversary dates, who whispered my name in his sleep. How could he turn around and offer that same tenderness to someone else? Alex’s family had never liked me. So he worked himself to the bone, networking, taking on extra projects, humbling himself to secure deals. After he landed the last big contract, he held me all night, his voice hoarse with excitement. “Cici, they finally said yes. I can finally, finally make you my wife.” Tomorrow is my wedding. The invitations are sent. The venue is booked. The wedding dress Lena helped me pick is hanging in the closet. The jewelry Alex gave me is on the vanity. Everything is ready. My best friend. And the man I love most in the world. Together, they plunged a knife deep into my heart. I pushed him away and stood up, walking into the closet to find the torn nightgown that Lena had worn. “If you’re not feeling well, just rest. Tell me what you need, I’ll get it…” Alex followed me, stepping in front of me to block my path. But when he saw what I was holding, the words died in his throat. He was close. So close I could see his pupils contract, could see the flicker of panic in his eyes. I stared at his pale face, holding the nightgown up against my body. “Is it pretty?” He forced a strained smile, trying to act casual. “It’s beautiful. My Cici looks beautiful in anything.” “But… that one seems to be a little torn. We should just throw it out. I’ll buy you a new one.” “Yes. Torn. And dirty. Dirty things should be thrown out.” He froze, his hand hovering in the air, his body trembling so hard he couldn’t even look at me. I laughed, a soft, chilling sound. “Alex, why are you so nervous?” “Are you dirty too?” “No… I’m not!” His voice cracked, rising in pitch. He immediately realized his mistake and fell silent, then dropped to one knee in front of me. His face was filled with a sincerity I had never seen before. “Cici, is it because of the wedding tomorrow? Are you just nervous and overthinking things?” “We’ve worked so hard for this, for so long. How could I ever do anything to hurt you?” “When we first got together, I made a vow. If Alex Jennings ever does anything to wrong Cici Evans, may he be punished by losing her forever.” “You know me. Losing you… that would be worse than death.” We stayed like that, me standing, him kneeling, our eyes locked. The air was thick, silent. Until a ding broke the spell. Both our phones lit up with a new notification. Lena had updated her post. [What do I do? I really don’t want to hurt my best friend.] [But I can’t help it. I’m prettier than her, I have a better body, I’m more independent. Why should she get the good guy?] [If this gets a thousand likes, I’m going to him tonight and demanding an answer.] Less than ten minutes later, the post had over ten thousand likes. Almost everyone was cheering her on. [They’re not married yet, what’s the big deal?] [Go for it, girl! You have to fight for your own happiness! Don’t live with regrets.] [I’ll bet you $100 he chooses you tonight. I’ll even venmo one lucky commenter as a wedding gift for you!] I turned off my screen. And met Alex’s hesitant, uncertain gaze. He opened his mouth, his voice barely a whisper. “Cici, I… I have to go out for a bit. Something came up. I’ll be back soon, okay? Will you wait for me?” I nodded. I even gave him a small, faint smile. So he wouldn’t suspect a thing. The initial gut-wrenching pain had faded into a dull numbness, and now, it was all just… absurd. This man, who I once couldn’t bear to be apart from for a second, now made my skin crawl. Every moment in his presence felt suffocating. He left, looking back every few steps. The moment he was gone, I started packing. As I was booking my flight, Lena shared a new photo on her post. Two hands, fingers intertwined, resting on the bright red silk of our marital bed. [We’ve decided not to call off the wedding tomorrow. We’re worried my friend will get emotional and do something stupid. She can be a bit of a drama queen (lol).] [He promised that if we’re still in love a year from now, he’ll divorce her.] [But he doesn’t want me to feel slighted. So tonight, our wedding night, belongs to just the two of us.] [I’m so happy right now, hehe.] I remembered when we first got the new bed for the apartment. Lena had accidentally spilled a single drop of juice on the sheets. Alex had flown into a rage, immediately throwing them out and buying a new set. Everything in our new home, he’d said, has to be perfect. Not a single smudge. And now, he was in that bed with her.

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1 As the founder of my own small company, I was never stingy with my employees. When we cleared a million dollars in profit, I gave them $850,000 of it. I thought generosity would win their loyalty. Instead, they reported me to the Department of Labor. “We’ve received an anonymous complaint from an employee at your company,” the voice on the phone said, dripping with official boredom. “Allegations of arbitrary wage deductions and unfair profit distribution.” “Furthermore, claims of a chaotic work environment and forced overtime, in serious violation of labor laws. You are ordered to rectify these issues immediately.” “And you’re being fined fifty thousand dollars.” Fine. If they were so unhappy with my policies, then we would do things by the book. Just like every other company out there. And that million-dollar profit? They wouldn’t see a single cent of it. … I immediately called my assistant and had her draft a new set of company regulations. Then, I scheduled an all-hands meeting. The moment I stepped out of my office, I heard their whispers. “Hey, do you really think he’s going to give us 85% of the profits? Is that even possible?” “No way. It’s a no-brainer. What kind of boss is that nice? He’s just exaggerating for the press, trying to build a reputation. We’re just pawns in his PR game, you know?” “Exactly. All bosses are the same. I don’t buy this whole ‘Mr. Nice Guy’ act. Sure, he says we can be late or leave early, but we still have to make up the hours, don’t we?” “And letting us take salary advances whenever we want? He’s just trying to make us dependent on him so we can’t leave.” … Every carefully analyzed sentence was a blow. A cold weight settled in my stomach. I never imagined my kindness would be twisted into a manipulative tactic to buy loyalty. I had treated my employees with genuine respect, and in return, I got not loyalty, but suspicion. Betrayal. If that’s how they wanted it, then I was done being genuine. I quietly slipped back into my office. A few minutes later, my assistant came in with the newly printed company handbook. “Sir, the new company regulations are ready.” “Good. Announce the meeting.” “Yes, sir.” When I walked into the conference room, it was a cacophony of chatter. Before this, I’d never restricted their freedom, encouraging them to treat the office like a second home. The atmosphere had always been relaxed. “Hey, the boss said yesterday he was giving us that $850,000 bonus. You think today’s the day?” “Get ready for a payday!” I cleared my throat as I walked to the head of the table. “I’ve called this meeting to announce a major change,” I began, my voice ringing with a new authority. “The company has instituted a new set of rules and regulations.” “From this day forward, we will operate by these standards.” I had my assistant distribute a copy to everyone. Someone started reading it aloud. “Effective immediately, employees are not permitted to be late or leave early. All staff must adhere to the prescribed work hours. Violations will result in a fifty-dollar deduction from your paycheck. Furthermore, employees will be subject to monthly performance reviews. The lowest-performing employee each month will be terminated.” “No more salary advances?!” Shock rippled through the room. A woman named Lisa looked up at me. “Boss, is this some kind of joke?” “Yeah, sir, I thought we were getting our bonuses today.” “You’ve got a great sense of humor, boss, but it’s not April Fools’ Day.” … They were so sure. So certain I would never change a thing. The lively, casual atmosphere started to return. I slammed my hand on the table. The sharp crack silenced the room. “Quiet! In what company do employees chatter freely during a meeting?” After a beat of stunned silence, someone spoke up hesitantly. “But… we’ve always been like this, sir.” “That was then. The rules have changed.” “Starting today, everyone will strictly adhere to the new regulations, just like at any other company. No lateness, no leaving early.” “And that $850,000 profit share,” I said, letting the words hang in the air. “I’m canceling it.” A collective gasp went through the room. “What?!” One man shot to his feet. “Sir, you promised you would share that with us!” “Yeah, and what was wrong with the old system? Why change it?” One after another, they stood up, a united front of protest. My eyes scanned each of their faces. My probing had revealed the truth. It wasn’t just one person who had reported me. They had banded together. A conspiracy. And now they stood here, playing dumb, asking me why. How pathetic. “Are you the boss, or am I?” I asked, my voice dangerously low. “There will be no further discussion of unrelated matters in this meeting. Anyone who brings it up again will be docked fifty dollars.” That shut them up. I let out a cold, humorless laugh and turned to leave. They thought this was a shock? They had no idea what was coming. That same day, I had time clocks installed at the building entrance. The next morning, my assistant brought me the tardiness report. More than half the company was late. “Notify them. Fifty dollars deducted from their pay.” “And add a new rule. If anyone is late more than ten times in a month, they’re fired for gross negligence.” The moment my assistant relayed the message, my office door burst open. A dozen employees crowded inside. “Boss, we were only half an hour late. This is a bit extreme, don’t you think?” “Yeah, fifty bucks is my grocery money for a few days!” … I put down my pen and looked at them. “The new rules were made perfectly clear yesterday.” “Your failure to comply is not my problem.” “But—” They were stunned into silence. For the next few days, they were forced to wake up earlier, to cram onto buses and subways to get to work on time. The perks were gone. They couldn’t leave early and make up the time later. And now, the pressure of performance reviews loomed over them. The office, once a place of relaxed camaraderie, was now filled with grumbling and complaints. “Performance quotas? I’m screwed. I haven’t even hit my target for this month.” “You think he’s doing this on purpose? He made that grand promise about the $850,000, and now he’s trying to push us all out so he can keep it for himself.” “It’s possible. I’ve already been late six times. That’s three hundred bucks gone. Any more and I’ll be eating instant noodles for a month.” Suddenly, one of them slammed his fist on his desk. “Just you wait. If he’s going to make our lives hell, we’ll make his hell, too.” … I switched off the security feed. I’d seen enough. A few days later, I got another call from the Department of Labor. They had reported me again, this time for the new policies. I calmly submitted the new company handbook and the surveillance footage of employees clocking in and out. “Following your previous warning, we immediately revised our policies to be in line with industry standards,” I explained. “We now have performance reviews and mandatory clock-ins.” “All salaries are now calculated based on a fixed formula: base pay plus performance bonuses.” After confirming everything was in order, they ended the call. My employees, who had been eagerly awaiting my downfall, were gathered outside, gossiping. “Hey, you think he’s getting chewed out right now?” “Serves him right for docking our pay. He needs to learn he can’t just push us around.” “Damn right. And he pocketed our $850,000 bonus. I was counting on that for my mortgage payment.” Amid the chorus of agreement, one voice spoke up hesitantly. “I don’t know, guys. Reporting him behind his back seems kind of wrong. And the new rules are just like any other company’s. The old policies were actually great for us. Why did you guys have to report him?” The group immediately turned on him, calling him a corporate bootlicker. He fell silent and retreated to his desk. The others continued their chatter. Until I walked out of my office and stood before them. “It seems,” I said, my voice carrying across the suddenly silent office, “that everyone is quite displeased with me.” The chatter stopped. Eyes widened. They scrambled to their feet. “Boss! What are you doing out here?” “Hey, boss!” They plastered on fake smiles and crowded around me. Did they think I was deaf? I held up my phone and played the surveillance video of them bad-mouthing me. They froze. I was shocked. The one who was always kissing up to me, Leo Vance, was the one leading the charge. And the quietest one, David Chen, the one who always just did his work, was the only one who had defended me. “Boss, we were just joking around, and besides…” “You’re fired,” I said, looking directly at Leo. “Wh-what…?” He couldn’t believe it. I ignored him and walked over to David’s desk. “David, come with me.” I promoted David to Sales Manager. Leo’s position. When the news broke, Leo stormed into my office. “On what grounds are you giving my job to David? Just because I said a few things?” “Weren’t you the one who said we had freedom of speech in this company?” I looked at him coldly. “That was before.” “If you want to stay, then stay. If not, get out.” I had no mercy left for people like him. “You can’t fire me!” he roared. “I can,” I said flatly. “I’m the boss.” He slammed his fist on my desk and stormed out. His resignation was on my desk within the hour. The next morning, my name was all over the internet. My assistant frantically sent me the link. I clicked on it. The headline read: 【MY LIFE AS A CORPORATE SLAVE UNDER A PSYCHO BOSS】 In the video, Leo didn’t just attack my policies; he slandered my character, twisting the truth into a grotesque caricature. “You guys will not believe this,” he began, his voice thick with fake emotion. “I’ve worked at this company for five years. I’ve poured my blood, sweat, and tears into it. The company made millions, and the $850,000 bonus he promised us? Vanished into thin air. Not only that, but this psycho boss is using every dirty trick in the book to force us out.” “He’s pushed me to the brink. I had no choice but to resign.” In the video, Leo was a mess of tears and snot, painting a picture of a long-suffering martyr. It worked. The sympathy of fellow 9-to-5ers poured in. “OMG, that’s horrible! What company is this? Name and shame so we can avoid it!” “As a fellow worker, I feel this in my soul. These evil capitalists, what do they think we are, their slaves?” “Don’t worry, man. A company like that will go bankrupt soon enough.” … Tens of thousands of comments flooded the post. It went viral. Because of Leo’s video, my company was hit with a tidal wave of negative press. Our stock plummeted. Our reputation was in tatters. And Leo? He was thriving. He launched a live-streaming channel. He’d become an influencer. The viral video had gained him a massive following. He started selling products on his stream. “Sir, we tried contacting Leo,” my assistant reported. “He won’t pick up.” “He says you have to call him personally.” My patience was gone. “Sue him,” I told her. A few minutes later, Leo received the legal notice from the court. He immediately went live, crying to his audience again. “Guys, please, stop talking about my old boss and company in the comments. They’re going to sue me! I’m so scared! Oh no, please don’t come and get me!” Then his expression shifted into a smug, punchable grin. The comments section exploded. 【That’s right, stick it to him! Teach him not to mess with the working class!】 【Exactly! He thinks he can bully us?】 【Don’t be afraid, man. You already quit. What can he do to you?】 As the video’s popularity grew, and with Leo’s daily attacks, the company became a public enemy. The internet was flooded with posts trashing us. Some people even started protesting outside our office building. I finally called Leo myself. He let it ring for a long time before picking up with a lazy, “Yeah?” The fawning respect was completely gone. “Take down the post. Kill the trend. Issue a public clarification.” “Or you will regret this.” He just laughed. “Regret it? Mr. Sterling, I’m a huge influencer now. I could ruin your company with a few words. I think you’re the one who’s going to have regrets. Tell you what. You come to my studio right now, get on your knees, and apologize. Then maybe I’ll come back.” “Oh, and I’ll need triple my old salary. After all,” he said, his voice dripping with arrogance, “I’m a big deal now.” “Unbelievable!” I immediately instructed my assistant to have the PR department release a statement. But the moment it was posted, it was swarmed by Leo’s mindless fans. 【No performance reviews? Flexible hours? Who are you kidding? It’s obviously a soul-sucking sweatshop.】 【Yeah, right. You think we’re stupid? A capitalist is a capitalist.】 A moment later, my assistant came back. The post had been mass-reported and taken down. Worse, a mob of “righteous” netizens and reporters had surrounded our building. I gathered my remaining employees to go down and explain. The moment we stepped out of the lobby, we were swarmed. The air filled with insults. “Soulless boss! How do you sleep at night, getting rich off your employees’ sweat and blood?” “The company makes millions, but you can’t even spare a few hundred thousand for bonuses? You’re not human!” “Compensation! Compensate your employees now!” Reporters shoved cameras and microphones in my face. “Mr. Sterling, your former employee has claimed that you arbitrarily deduct wages and intentionally force employees out to avoid paying bonuses. Is this true?” “Mr. Sterling, we’ve heard that you demoted him and publicly humiliated him to avoid paying his salary. Can you comment?” “Mr. Sterling—” “None of that is true!” I roared. The crowd fell silent for a second. “Before this year, we paid out bonuses every single year. We’ve always shared 85% of the company’s profits with our employees, ever since we were founded. And our profits aren’t in the millions! This year, it was one million dollars.” “And I was going to give them $850,000 of it.” My words were met with jeers. “But you didn’t, did you? Stop with the fake charity!” “Yeah, talk is cheap!” “You dock pay for being a minute late, but you expect us to believe you’d give out bonuses? Only a fool would believe that.” “I didn’t dock their pay without reason! You can ask my employees!” I said, turning to the staff behind me. But they weren’t there. Leo had appeared at some point, and my employees were now standing with him. A reporter went over to them. “Is what your boss just said true?” Without a moment’s hesitation, they shook their heads. “They’ve used all sorts of excuses to dock my pay,” one said, playing the victim. “I’ve lost almost half my salary this month.” “Me too,” said another. Leo stepped forward, the picture of righteous indignation. “We are standing up today to fight for a better working environment for everyone! We shouldn’t have to live in fear of having our pay deducted, bound by all these ridiculous rules!” “Yeah! That’s right!” a cheer went up from the crowd. It was as if I was some irredeemable supervillain, and they were the heroes of justice. I laughed. “I admit it. I didn’t pay out the $850,000.” “See! See! What did I tell you?” “Still trying to act like a saint.” “But—” I paused, looking at the crowd. “There was a reason for it. If you don’t believe me, maybe you’ll believe this.” I took out my phone, pulled up the surveillance video from a few days ago, and hit play. The sound of their own voices filled the air. The crowd, which had been jeering moments before, fell silent.

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As a girl from the sticks, I used to envy the daughter of the richest man in town. Why? Because once, the tangerines from our village fell on the ground and stained her designer heels. With a single phone call, she had every tangerine tree in our village uprooted. But then one day, the richest man personally came to find me. Turns out, I am the real heiress. I packed my bags overnight, grabbed my little yellow dog, and enthusiastically said goodbye to the uncles and aunties in the village. The whole village waved goodbye with teary eyes: “Little Lin, live that heiress life well! Don’t come back to this hardship!” I shook my head vigorously. No way! The billionaire’s estate isn’t even as big as one hill in our village; it’s not enough space for me and my dog, Buddy, to run two laps. I’m just going to collect my compensation. But if they refuse to pay… well, things are going to get crazy. 1 On the way to pick me up, my billionaire father, Samuel Stone, set three rules for me: First, I cannot publicly reveal my identity without permission. Second, I cannot kick out the fake heiress, Sarah. Third, I cannot compete with Sarah for affection. So, when I walked into the living room and saw Sarah crying like a delicate pear blossom in the rain, I immediately turned around with Buddy in my arms and headed for the garden. “Sarah, don’t cry, you will always be my only daughter.” Mmhmm, that’s my biological mother, Mrs. Stone. “Exactly, you are my only sister. That hillbilly doesn’t deserve to call me brother.” I raised an eyebrow. That’s my brainless brother, Shawn. I didn’t bother listening to the rest. I just ran two laps around the garden with Buddy. Buddy stuck out his tongue in disdain. I nodded. The Stone family’s garden isn’t even as big as a single hill back home. No wonder Buddy isn’t impressed. Estimating that Sarah’s performance should be over, I took Buddy and walked straight into the living room, finding a single sofa to sit on. Buddy obediently lay at my feet. As soon as I sat down, my billionaire father, Samuel, who had been benevolent in the car, looked at me coldly. “Did you forget everything I just said?” My wonderful brother, Shawn, looked at me coldly, like I was something dirty that shouldn’t be there. I pointed a finger at Sarah. “First, I didn’t reveal my identity. Second, I didn’t kick her out. Third, I didn’t fight for affection.” Samuel paused, choking on his words. “Sister, do you dislike me?” Sarah looked aggrieved, her eyes quickly reddening. Mrs. Stone immediately patted her hand in comfort, then turned her sharp tongue on me: “Lin, since you’re back in the Stone family, you need to learn our rules. Don’t bring your rough country ways here.” “And that dog, filthy. How can you bring it into the living room? Get rid of it tomorrow.” I slowly stroked Buddy’s head before looking up at her directly: “When he came to pick me up, he promised I could bring Buddy.” “As for rules, I followed the three he set. My rule is that people should keep their word.” I emphasized the word “he,” turning my gaze to the silent Samuel. Samuel looked a bit embarrassed and coughed. Shawn, who hadn’t spoken, snorted coldly: “Dad was just placating you. But the family image is important.” “You need to adapt to high society quickly, instead of bringing village stuff here.” He paused, the disdain in his eyes deepening, “After all, your last name is Stone now.” “My last name is Lin.” I corrected him calmly, “Like the forest.” The atmosphere in the living room solidified. Sarah’s tears finally fell: “Brother, don’t talk to sister like that. It’s all my fault. If not for me, sister wouldn’t have suffered so much outside.” “Sister, you should blame me. Hit me, scold me, as long as you can vent your anger. Even if you kick me out, I…” I watched this family of four. One playing the victim, one the protector, one the peacemaker, and one looking down from high above. A perfect performance. They wanted to intimidate me, make me realize my place, make me grateful, and make me feel guilty towards Sarah. Unfortunately, they got it wrong from the start. I didn’t come to claim kinship. I came to collect a debt. From my canvas bag, I took out a stack of A4 papers, neatly stapled, and placed them in the center of the coffee table. “So, next, let’s talk about the compensation.” Instantly, everyone froze. 2 Shawn sneered as if he heard the biggest joke in the world and reached for the papers. He flipped through two pages, and his expression went from mocking to livid. “Tangerine grove damage assessment… based on the average yield of the past five years, estimated total yield loss for the next ten years… including labor costs, land maintenance costs, brand value loss… totaling $18.5 million?” His voice trembled as he read the final number, and he slammed the papers onto the table, scattering them everywhere. “Are you crazy? This is extortion!” Mrs. Stone snatched a few pages, her eyes widening, then screamed: “You ungrateful wretch! The Stone family brings you back to a life of luxury, and instead of being grateful, you want money? Eighteen million? Why don’t you just rob a bank!” I ignored their hysteria and looked at Sarah. Her performance was right on cue. Tears fell like broken beads. She stood up, swaying, her voice filled with endless grievance and self-blame. “Sister… I know it’s all my fault. I was ignorant and ruined the village’s tangerine grove…” “But I didn’t mean to…” “Blame me if you want, hit me or scold me, but why use money to hurt Mom and Dad’s feelings? We are family…” She started to kneel towards me, “I apologize, I’ll kowtow to you, please don’t do this…” Shawn and Mrs. Stone rushed to support her. The family huddled together, glaring at me as if I were the villain tearing apart their happy home. “Lin! Look what you’ve done to Sarah!” Samuel finally slammed the table and stood up, pointing at my nose, full of disappointment and anger: “The Stone family owes you nothing! Bringing you back is a favor, not an obligation! If you keep making trouble, get out!” I waited for them to vent, then spoke slowly, my voice not loud but clear enough for everyone to hear. “First, this isn’t extortion, it’s compensation.” “What Sarah destroyed was the livelihood of over a hundred families in the village for the next ten years. This data was recorded by my grandfather in his ledger for decades, stroke by stroke, accurate to the harvest of every single tree.” I paused, my gaze sweeping over each of them. “Second, I already said, my last name is Lin. I came back not to recognize any relatives, nor to be anyone’s sister.” I stood up, looking down at this ridiculous family of four, finishing my sentence word by word. “I am here to collect a debt. Paying debts is the law of the universe.” “Your Stone family affection is worthless to me. I don’t want it.” 3 Samuel eventually accepted my $18.5 million compensation list. He didn’t say he would pay, nor did he say he wouldn’t. Instead, he looked at me with a new, complex gaze for a long time, then made a decision: send me to school. The same school as Sarah, Derby International High School. Mrs. Stone was all for it. She looked at me with malicious glee: “It’s time to learn some manners. Don’t always act so uncultured and embarrass the Stone family.” Shawn added with contempt: “Sarah’s circle is full of elites. Going there will open your eyes. Don’t just think about your tangerine money, your vision is too small.” I understood their intention. Throw me into an environment completely foreign to me, where background and status matter everywhere. Make me feel ashamed, make me see the vast difference between Sarah and me. So I would retreat in defeat, obediently give up that “extortion” sum, and become a docile puppet dependent on the Stone family. Nice calculation, but useless on me. On the first day of school, I became a celebrity at Derby High. Not because I was the real heiress of the Stone family, but because I wore faded canvas shoes. Carrying a canvas bag printed with “Serve the People,” followed by a little yellow dog wagging its tail. Of course, Buddy couldn’t enter the school building, so I let him wait by the security booth at the gate. The security guard was nice and gave him a bowl of water. Sarah’s lackeys were active. The leader was named Jessica. They buzzed around me like flies. They would “accidentally” spill milk on my homework; Loudly discuss my “street vendor clothes” behind my back; Even stuff trash in my desk. Sarah always put on an innocent and helpless look, occasionally coming over to fake-persuade: “Jessica, don’t treat my sister like this. She’s new and not used to it.” Then Jessica and the others would intensify their efforts, claiming to “fight for justice” for Sarah. I couldn’t be bothered. Arguing with a bunch of spoiled brats is a waste of time. My purpose here isn’t to make friends or fit into any circle. I’m just waiting for my $18.5 million to hit my account. Soon, the school organized a grade-wide placement test. This became the new fun for Jessica and her crew. They spread rumors everywhere that I, the “illiterate” from the mountains, probably didn’t even know how to fill out a Scantron sheet. They said I would definitely rank last in the school, disgracing Sarah’s class. On the day of the exam, I finished all the papers half an hour early, then slept on the desk until the bell rang. This behavior solidified my image as a “slacker” in their eyes. Sarah looked at me with a hint of pity. The day the results were posted, the bulletin board was crowded, three layers deep, noisy as hell. I had no interest in joining the fun and was about to walk around. Then I heard a collective gasp from the crowd, followed by deathly silence. Then, everyone’s eyes turned to me like searchlights. I was baffled but still dragged to the bulletin board by busybodies. The crowd parted automatically for me. I looked up at the red list at the very top. In the first place, two words were clearly written: Lin Ya. 4 Followed by a string of numbers: English 145, Math 150, Science 148, Social Studies 305, Total 748. A score so high it was terrifying, leading by a mile. Second place was the usual grade leader, with a total of 695. As for Sarah, I scanned down and found her name in seventh place, total score 681. The hallway was silent. Jessica’s mouth hung open, looking like she’d seen a ghost. Sarah stood not far away, face pale, knuckles white from clenching her fists. That night at the dinner table, the atmosphere was heavier than ever. Samuel, Mrs. Stone, and Shawn held copies of my report card, reading it over and over, as if trying to find a flower blooming in the numbers. For the first time, no one dared treat me like a silly girl from the village anymore. After the placement test, the Stone family quieted down a lot. At the table, Mrs. Stone stopped mocking me, and Shawn stopped using his elite theories to belittle me. They just ate in silence, looking at me with probing, scrutinizing, even wary eyes. This silence felt more fake than the previous noise. I knew this was just the calm before the storm. If one strike fails, they switch to a more covert, vicious method. Especially Sarah. Her look changed completely. Before, it was teasing and pity like a cat with a mouse. Now, it was a coldness mixed with jealousy and malice. In front of me, she still tried to maintain that gentle, kind, harmless appearance, but her acting skills had degraded. The hate deep in her eyes occasionally leaked out, like a poisoned needle, sharp and cold. Soon, her self-perceived opportunity arrived. 5 The school was hosting its annual Chemistry Competition. Winners not only get extra credit for college applications but also a significant boost for Ivy League admissions. As a perennial top student, Sarah was determined to win this award. The competition was in pairs. To everyone’s surprise, Sarah actively invited me to team up with her. She stood at my desk, smiling sweetly: “Sister, let’s participate together? Your theoretical knowledge is so good, and I’m better at hands-on experiments. If we team up, we’ll definitely be first.” I put down my pen and looked up at her. Then I nodded calmly, “Okay.” I knew it was a trap. But I also knew you can’t guard against a thief every day. I came to the Stone family to collect a debt. A gleam of success flashed in Sarah’s eyes, almost too fast to catch. From that day on, a small gadget I bought online came in handy— A micro voice recorder that looked exactly like a regular fountain pen. The preparation phase seemed normal. The afternoon before the competition, we were running a final data simulation in the lab. Halfway through, Sarah suddenly said she felt unwell and went to the infirmary, leaving Jessica to keep me company. I nodded and continued processing the reagents. After Sarah left, Jessica leaned in: “Lin, is there something wrong with the scale on that beaker? Let me check it for you.” Just as she pretended to help me check the instrument to distract me, I heard a faint zipper sound behind me. And the tiny sound of a memory card being pulled out of the data logger. I didn’t turn around. When I turned back, Jessica was back in her original position, just a bit pale. And the data logger slot on the lab bench was empty. “Where is my data card?”

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After I got into a car crash at three years old, I was accidentally bound to a “Savior System.” [Mission Objective: Obtain 100 Affection Points from mother, Susan Hayes.] [Mission Reward: One (1) Revival Card.] [Friendly Reminder: Host has only seven days to be revived. Mission failure will result in immediate death.] My little hand touched the gauze wrapped around my head, and my eyes lit up. I’m Mommy’s little sweetheart! Of course, she’ll give me a hundred points. “Nina!” The hospital room door suddenly burst open. Mommy rushed in, her face etched with worry and heartache. “Does your head still hurt? Mommy was so, so scared.” See? Mommy loves me the most. A sweet warmth spread through my chest. The next second, the system’s cold voice echoed in my mind. [Target acquired. Displaying current Affection Value.] A string of numbers materialized above my mother’s head. [Affection Value: -999.] 1. I froze, my little face turning pale. The system said that -999 meant “extreme loathing.” Only 999 meant “deeply loved.” “Nina, you must still be feeling awful after the crash,” Mommy said, gently stroking my head. She pulled out a little teddy bear thermos. “Mommy made you your favorite chicken soup. Here, have a taste.” She smiled at me, her eyes crinkling as she brought a spoonful to my lips. I obediently opened my mouth. My confusion and fear melted away. Mommy made me soup. How could she possibly hate me? The system must have made a mistake! Just then, Daddy strode into the room, his face filled with panic. He swept me into his arms. “Sweetheart, let Daddy see. Are you hurt anywhere?” I hugged him back tightly, my voice small and milky. “Daddy, I’m okay!” “Our little piggy is tough as nails,” my older brother, Leo, drawled, leaning against the doorframe with a grin. “The doctors said it was a bad crash, and all you got was a concussion.” He winked. “I bet the car saw how much you weigh and swerved to get away.” “Leo!” Mommy’s face hardened instantly. She grabbed my brother’s ear. “How can you talk like that? Is that how you show concern for your sister? Go stand outside!” “Mom, I was just kidding! Why are you always on her side?” Leo howled as he was banished to the hallway. See? Mommy really did love me the most. I breathed a sigh of relief and was about to give her a happy kiss when the numbers above her head flickered: [Affection Value: -1000] I froze again. My lip trembled, and a knot of panic and tears formed in my throat. How could this be? Mommy loves me. I quickly rummaged through my little bag and pulled out the present I’d bought for her before the accident. It was a cute little bunny brooch. “For Mommy,” I said, carefully holding it out to her. “Mommy, do you like Nina’s present?” “It’s beautiful! My Nina is so thoughtful!” Mommy’s face lit up with surprise. She took the brooch and immediately pinned it to her collar. “Mommy loves it so, so much.” Seeing her smile, I couldn’t help but smile too, pushing the system’s scary words to the back of my mind. After lunch, Mommy said she was going out to buy me some fruit. I slid off the bed, wanting to ask her to bring me a lollipop because the medicine tasted so bad. Before I could say a word, I saw her face turn to stone. She unpinned the bunny brooch, snapped it in half with a sharp crack, and threw it into the dark trash can. My heart squeezed tight. My nose stung, and tears rolled down my cheeks. Why? But Mommy said she liked Nina’s present… Just then, her phone rang. “Yeah, she’s not dead, just a concussion,” she said, her voice tight. “But Laura, the older she gets, the more her face looks just like that rapist’s!” Her voice broke with a sob, growing more agitated. “Sometimes I just want to tell my husband the truth! That Nina isn’t a symbol of our love!” “She’s a demon seed! Every time I hear her call me ‘Mommy,’ I feel sick to my stomach. Holding her feels… filthy!” 2. I stood frozen, my small body rigid. I didn’t really understand words like “rapist” or “demon seed,” but I knew they were bad things. Very, very bad things. Auntie Laura was trying to calm her down on the other end. “Susan, get a hold of yourself. Your husband and son adore her. Your life is so good now. If you tell them what happened three years ago, you’ll be the one destroying your family!” “I know… but it’s so hard to keep it all inside…” Mommy’s voice was filled with pain and resentment. “Why did she have to live? Why couldn’t she have just died in the crash?!” Slowly, step by step, I backed away until I hit the corner of the room, curling myself into a tiny ball. Fat tears plopped onto the back of my chubby hands, hot and stinging. So… Mommy really, really hated me. That bright red -1000 wasn’t a game. It was real. The system reminded me again: I had to raise my mother’s Affection Value to live. Otherwise, in seven days, I would die. I didn’t want to die. Daddy and Mommy and Leo all loved me. When I grew up, I was going to make lots and lots of money for them. I thought about how every time Mommy took care of me, it felt like she loved me. Maybe if I took care of her, she would start to like me, just a little bit. The day I was discharged, I saw Mommy rubbing her temples, looking tired. I immediately grabbed my big water bottle and waddled over to the water cooler. “Nina get water for Mommy!” I stumbled as I walked, spilling water all over my dress. When I finally reached her, I stood on my tiptoes, holding the cup up high, my eyes shining. “Mommy, drink water. Then you won’t be tired anymore!” Mommy blinked, then her face broke into that familiar, gentle smile. “Thank you, Nina. You’re such a good girl.” Her voice was still so nice to listen to. But as she took the cup, I saw it clearly. The red number above her head changed. [Affection Value: -1500] I stared at the number as it plummeted. My lip quivered, and I couldn’t hold it in anymore. A loud “Waaah!” burst out of me. I felt so hurt and scared. “What’s wrong? What’s wrong? Why is Daddy’s little girl crying?” Daddy was the first to rush in, his big, rough hands clumsily wiping my tears. “Does your head hurt? Daddy will blow on it for you, okay?” Leo squeezed in too, holding a pudding cup he’d just bought me. “Don’t cry, little piggy. Have some pudding. It’s your favorite strawberry flavor.” They surrounded me. Daddy patted my back gently while Leo made funny faces to make me laugh. Any other time, I would have giggled through my tears and thrown my arms around them. But now, through my blurry, tear-filled eyes, I saw Mommy standing behind Daddy. She looked concerned, and she was saying, “Why is she crying so hard all of a sudden?” But the number above her head was dropping like a broken counter: [-1600… -1700…] Every comforting word from Daddy and Leo sent the number spiraling down. I think I understood. The more Daddy and Leo loved me, the more they spoiled me… the more Mommy hated me. Looking at her worried, yet utterly cold expression, my heart ached. I decided I had to be quieter from now on. I couldn’t be a crybaby anymore. Maybe then… Mommy wouldn’t hate me so much. 3. At dinner, I didn’t chatter about my day at preschool. I just kept my head down, pushing rice around with my little spoon. Even when my favorite custard was served, I didn’t dare shout “More, more!” like I used to. “Nina, you’ve been so quiet lately,” Daddy said, a worried frown on his face. “Is the food not good?” I shook my head hard, swallowing my craving for more custard. “Nina’s not hungry,” I whispered. He frowned but didn’t press. I peeked at Mommy. Her number had only dropped by 3. That night, I tripped over a toy and bumped my knee on the corner of the table. It hurt so much. I opened my mouth to cry, but then I remembered Mommy’s hateful eyes. I clamped my hands over my mouth, stifling the sobs until my face was red and my eyes were swimming with tears. Leo ran over, his face full of concern. “Where did you hit it? Does it hurt? Let brother see!” But I flinched away from him like a scared little rabbit and scrambled onto the couch, curling into a ball. “Doesn’t hurt… Nina’s okay…” I whimpered. Mommy was standing in the kitchen doorway, watching us. She seemed… satisfied with what she saw. Her number didn’t change at all. A wave of sadness washed over me, but it was mixed with a strange kind of joy. A small, hopeful smile touched my lips. Mommy… was she finally not hating me as much? I became even quieter. When Daddy came home from work and tried to give me his usual kisses and lift me high in the air, I would run and hide in my room. When Leo wanted to take me out to play, I’d say I was sleepy. The looks on their faces were full of worry and confusion. “She’s been like a different person since the accident,” I heard them whisper. “Maybe she has some kind of trauma.” “She doesn’t smile anymore. She’s lost all her spark.” They became even more careful around me, even more attentive. And I withdrew even more. But my plan seemed to be working. For two whole days, the number above Mommy’s head stayed stable at “-2000.” The system kept nagging me. [Host, only three days remaining. Please increase the target’s Affection Value as soon as possible. Otherwise, you will die in three days.] But I didn’t dare try to please Mommy. She didn’t like it when I got close. I think… I was more afraid of her hateful eyes than I was of dying. In the middle of the night, I woke up thirsty. I tiptoed to the living room for some water and heard Mommy’s voice coming from the study. It was hushed and full of tears. “…that rapist is threatening me with the video again. He wants a hundred thousand this time. If I don’t give it to him, he’ll tell Daniel everything!” “What am I going to do? I hate him so much! I want to kill that monster!” I stopped, clutching my stuffed bunny tightly. Rapist? Was that the bad man who made Mommy hate me? How could I help her? I asked the system, but it didn’t answer. The next day, Daddy and Leo were going out to buy me my favorite strawberry cake to try and cheer me up. I tugged on Daddy’s shirt, my heart filled with a strange panic. “Daddy, you don’t have to. Nina doesn’t like cake anymore.” He stroked my head, his eyes full of pain. “What’s this? My little sweet tooth doesn’t like cake anymore? Don’t worry, Daddy and Leo will be back soon.” They left. I watched their car drive away, and the panicky feeling in my chest grew stronger and stronger. Two hours later, Mommy answered a phone call. The color drained from her face. She looked at me, and her eyes were terrifying. Smack. She slapped me, hard. “It’s all your fault! You’re a curse! If my husband and son die, I will never forgive you!” 4. It was the first time I had ever seen Mommy look so wild and broken. I was so scared I trembled all over. My cheek stung, and tears welled up in my eyes, but I didn’t dare let them fall. “Mommy… what happened?” “They were in a car crash. That rapist hit them. It’s because of your accident that he demanded more money from me! I couldn’t pay, so he tried to kill my husband and son!” Mommy was sobbing hysterically, her eyes burning with a deep, chilling hatred. “Nina, why did you have to live?! If you had died, our family would have been fine.” “Mommy…” I listened to her broken questions and curses, and the tears finally spilled over. I think I understood. The bad man didn’t just bully Mommy; he had hurt Daddy and Leo, too. And it was all because of me. If I hadn’t been born, Mommy wouldn’t be bullied by the bad man, and Daddy and Leo wouldn’t have gotten hurt. I watched, terrified and helpless, as the number above her head started jumping like crazy. The red deepened until it looked like it was about to drip blood. [Affection Value: -9999] [Target’s Affection Value has dropped below -5000. Triggering Level 3 Punishment: Three minutes of neural shock every hour!] The next second, a buzzing roar filled my head, and a violent pain shot through my body. It felt like a million needles were stabbing me all at once. I collapsed to the floor, my body spasming. It hurt so much. I wanted to cry, but Mommy was so sad already. Nina couldn’t make Mommy even angrier. The system’s warnings flashed in my mind. [CRITICAL WARNING: If target’s Affection Value drops below -10000, host will be immediately terminated! Please increase Affection Value to preserve life!] The pain was so bad I was convulsing, but I stayed quiet. I watched Mommy grab her car keys and flee the house. System-uncle, Nina doesn’t want to do the mission anymore. It’s okay if Nina dies. That way, Mommy can be happy. And Daddy and Leo can be safe. Daddy and Leo’s injuries weren’t serious. After they were moved out of the ER, they just needed to be observed for a few days. They were worried about me being home alone, so they sent Mommy home. She seemed calmer. When she saw the handprint on my face, she silently applied some medicine to it. The number above her head was now -9000. “Mommy, it doesn’t hurt,” I said, clutching my empty, rumbling tummy. I forced a smile onto my pale little face. In the last two days of my life, I wanted to try and make Mommy happy, just once. “I’m not hungry either, Mommy. But you have to eat. You can’t get sick. Daddy and Leo would be worried.” Mommy’s lips were pressed into a thin line. Her voice was harsh. “I don’t feel guilty. I don’t need to feel guilty.” But the number above her head changed to -8000. The system said this was a good thing, but I didn’t care anymore. The next day, Mommy put my coat on. Her voice was flat. “Come on. I’m taking you somewhere.” She didn’t take me to the hospital to see Daddy and Leo. She drove to a run-down, deserted part of town. There was a tall, scary-looking man waiting for us. He had a mean look on his face. He sneered at Mommy, demanding money. But Mommy suddenly let out a cold laugh. She grabbed me by the neck. “I know you’re sterile now. You can’t have any more kids. This is your one and only child!” “I’m telling you, if you ever harass me again, if you ever touch my family again, I will kill her right in front of you! You’ll have no one to carry on your name!” Her fingernails dug into my skin. It hurt so much that tears welled up in my eyes. I gritted my teeth and looked at the strange man. Was this him? The bad man who made Mommy hate me? He scoffed, his cloudy eyes looking me up and down with disgust. “A useless girl is just a useless girl. So what if she dies? It’s not like she’s a son. Susan, you think you can threaten me with this? You’re dreaming!” “Give me the money. Or else.” Mommy froze, fear flashing in her eyes. She let go of me and tried to run. “Trying to run?!” The bad man’s face twisted into a snarl. He pulled a glittering knife from behind his back and lunged at her. “Don’t hurt my mommy!” In that instant, I used every bit of strength I had. I launched myself forward like a little cannonball, right in front of my mother. Shhhk. The knife sank deep into my chest. Blood gushed out, instantly staining my little flowered dress…

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1 The night of our wedding, my A-list actor husband, Damian Hale, left me for a private rendezvous with his ex-girlfriend. When he returned, reeking of alcohol, he held me and whispered her name: Luna Latham. The next morning, Luna posted on her social media: 【Some loves can only be spoken in whispers, hidden by time. I wish you happiness.】 Her fans swarmed the comments, branding me a homewrecker. My agent, Carla, was practically having a meltdown. I scrolled through my phone, completely unbothered. “What’s the rush?” I said calmly. “Leak the photos from their hotel room last night. Tell the press it was me, the ‘devastated wife,’ who caught them in the act.” “And remember,” I added, “censor the photos, but make sure everyone can recognize that specific watch on Damian’s wrist.” … Ten minutes after the photos went live, the social media servers crashed. 【Damian Hale Cheats on Wedding Night】 【Luna Latham the Homewrecker】 【Rachel Reed Catches Husband Cheating】 Three hashtags shot to the top of the trending list. Carla’s phone was ringing off the hook. She covered the receiver, her face pale as she looked at me. “Rachel, it’s Damian’s team, and… Mrs. Hale is on the other line.” I nodded, gesturing for her to continue. “They’re demanding you post a retraction immediately. Say they were stills from a movie, or just friends who had too much to drink and the angle was misleading.” A small, cold laugh escaped my lips. “A retraction? Why would I do that?” “I am Damian Hale’s lawfully wedded wife. My husband abandoned me on our wedding night, and now I’m expected to cover for his affair with his ex?” “Carla, do I look like some brain-dead saint to you?” Carla was speechless. The door to my suite burst open. Damian stormed in, his eyes shot with blood. He was clutching his phone so tightly his knuckles were white. “Rachel! Are you insane? Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” He slammed the phone down on the coffee table in front of me. The screen showed the photos I’d leaked. “Why would you do this? Luna is innocent!” he roared. “She was just upset, so I went to have a drink with her. Nothing happened!” I met his furious gaze, my own expression perfectly calm. “Nothing happened? Then why was she wearing your shirt?” “Nothing happened? Then why did you come home, hold me, and whisper her name all night?” The color drained from Damian’s face, then flooded back in a wave of crimson. He looked like he was choking. He clearly hadn’t expected me to be listening. “I was drunk!” he yelled, his voice cracking. “I made a mistake! A mistake any man could make!” “Did you have to blow this up, ruin my career, and destroy Luna’s life over it? I never knew you were so malicious!” I rose from the sofa and walked toward him. “Damian, you destroyed our marriage. You destroyed yourself. And you destroyed that precious Luna of yours.” “Malicious? Compared to you two, I’d say I’m serving justice.” “And let me correct you on one thing,” I added, my voice dripping with ice. “Not all men make that ‘mistake.’ Only the ones who can’t keep it in their pants. Don’t you dare drag everyone else down with you.” He trembled with rage, his hand flying up to strike me. I didn’t flinch. I just stared at him, my eyes cold and unflinching. “Go on. Hit me. Tomorrow’s headline will be ‘A-List Actor Damian Hale’s Domestic Abuse Scandal.’” “I guarantee you, it will trend even higher than your affair.” His hand froze in mid-air before falling limply to his side. Then, the phone rang again. It was Damian’s mother, the formidable Eleanor Hale, chairwoman of Zenith Media. The second I answered, her imperious voice cut through the line. “Rachel, delete the post immediately. Then, call a press conference and apologize. Say it was all a misunderstanding.” “You will not drag the Hale family name through the mud like this.” I leaned back on the sofa, calmly filing my nails. “Mrs. Hale, the one dragging your family name through the mud isn’t me. It’s your darling son.” “On his wedding night, he chose to do this. The fact that I haven’t filed for divorce yet is the only respect I’m showing the Hale name.” There was a beat of silence on the other end, then a voice tight with fury. “What do you want? Film roles? Money? Name your price. Just make this go away.” I blew a speck of dust from my nail. “I don’t want anything.” “I just want what’s fair.” Mrs. Hale laughed, a cold, sharp sound. “Fair? In this business, power is fairness. And I have the power.” “Don’t you forget, Rachel, who gave you everything you have. Without the Hale family, you are nothing.” “So drop the naive act. I’m giving you thirty minutes to think it over.” “If I don’t see a public apology from you in half an hour, you will face the consequences.” 2 The line went dead. Carla looked at me, her face etched with worry. “Rachel, she’s not bluffing. You know she’ll do it.” “Those endorsement deals, the script for that blockbuster… Zenith Media pulled all those strings for us.” I patted her hand reassuringly. “Don’t worry. The sky isn’t falling.” Thirty minutes passed. I posted nothing. Instead, a photo of Luna Latham, weeping in a hospital bed, appeared on her official social media, posted by her team. The caption read: 【Thank you for the concern. I’m alright. Please don’t blame anyone. It’s all my fault.】 In the photo, she wore a hospital gown, a pristine white bandage wrapped around her wrist. She was a picture of tragic fragility. Instantly, the public narrative flipped again. The hashtag #LunaLathamSuicideAttempt shot to number one, eclipsing everything else. My comment section became a cesspool. An army of self-righteous fans flooded in, cursing me with the most vile language imaginable. 【She tried to kill herself because of you! Rachel Reed is a monster!】 【Damian, divorce her! You must have had the worst luck in the world to marry a woman like that!】 【My heart breaks for Luna. We’re here for you, always.】 Damian called again. This time, his voice was choked with tears and raw hatred. “Rachel, Luna tried to kill herself! If anything happens to her, I swear I will never forgive you!” “Are you happy now? Are you satisfied?” I listened quietly to his tirade until he exhausted himself. Then, I spoke, my voice soft but lethal. “Damian, do you really think the world revolves around your tragic little love story?” “She cries, and it’s my fault. She checks into a hospital, and I’m the one who pushed her.” “What about me? I’m your wife. The one you two conspired to humiliate. Am I just supposed to take the abuse? To swallow my pain and say nothing?” “Go to the hospital. Stay by her side.” “And when you do, tell her to commit to the role next time. That scratch on her wrist looks like a paper cut. Today’s audience isn’t that gullible.” My defiance was the final straw. The Hales declared war. The next day, the official social media account for the blockbuster film I was set to star in announced that I had been removed from the cast, citing “personal conduct issues that have caused a negative social impact.” One by one, my high-end endorsement deals released statements terminating our contracts. Carla held the termination letters, her hands shaking. “It’s over, Rachel. It’s all over. Mrs. Hale is going to blacklist us completely.” Overnight, I went from being one of Hollywood’s brightest rising stars to a reviled outcast. Damian sent me a text. 【Is this what you wanted? I gave you a chance, Rachel.】 【Get out of my house. Now. My lawyer will be in touch with the divorce papers.】 I looked at the message and laughed. Get out? This mansion, the one with the deed in my name, was a wedding gift from my parents. I texted back one word. 【You.】 He must have lost his mind, because he showed up minutes later with two bodyguards in tow. “Rachel, don’t push your luck! This is a Hale property! You have no right to be here!” he snarled, pointing a finger at me with an air of supreme arrogance. I remained seated on the sofa, watching his little performance with amusement. “Damian, darling, has playing pretend for a living addled your brain? Open your eyes and read the name on the deed.” “This is my pre-nuptial property. It has absolutely nothing to do with you or the Hale family.” Damian froze, completely stunned. He obviously had no idea. Behind him, Luna Latham leaned weakly against the doorframe, a perfectly calibrated expression of shock and hurt on her pale face. “Damian, let’s just go,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “It’s clear she doesn’t want us here. Let’s not make her angry.” She tugged at his sleeve, the perfect damsel in distress. Damian looked at her, his eyes overflowing with adoration and pity. He turned back to me, his gaze venomous. “You wait, Rachel. You will pay for what you’ve done today.” “I will make sure you never work in this town again!” I stood and walked calmly towards them. “Fine by me,” I said with a smile. “I’ll be waiting.” 3 My gaze shifted past Damian, landing on Luna. “Ms. Latham, the next time you decide to stage a suicide attempt, you should probably have a medical report to back it up.” “Otherwise, faking an illness for sympathy… people might think you’re pathetic.” Luna’s body went rigid, her face turning an even more ghastly shade of white. Damian immediately shielded her with his body. “Shut up, Rachel!” he roared. “Don’t you dare say another word to her!” I watched his white-knight routine, finding it utterly absurd. “Hurt her?” I let out a cold laugh. “The person who’s truly hurting her is you.” “You’re the one who gave her false hope. You’re the one who let her believe she could walk all over me to get what she wanted.” “You, Damian, are the root of this entire tragedy.” The Hales’ blacklisting was swift and brutal. All of my projects were canceled. My team was forced to disband. Only Carla remained by my side. The online hate campaign against me was relentless. Extremist fans doxxed me, throwing paint on my front gate and sending me anonymous death threats. Carla called the police, but it was useless. They were like flies drawn to blood; for every one they shooed away, another dozen would appear. Meanwhile, Damian and Luna were thriving. They attended a charity gala together, and in front of the cameras, Damian looked at Luna with boundless affection. “I will handle my personal affairs as quickly as possible,” he announced to the press, “and give Luna the official status she deserves.” The internet erupted, celebrating their “epic love story.” And I was cast as the villain, the evil ex-wife standing in the way of their happiness. Mrs. Hale called me again, her tone dripping with the condescending pity of a victor. “Do you regret it now, Rachel? I told you, you’re no match for me.” “But I’m feeling generous. Kneel and beg me.” “Then, post a public apology, taking full responsibility. Admit you were jealous of Luna and maliciously started these rumors.” “Do that, and I might consider leaving you with a shred of a career.” Her words were so preposterous I could only laugh. “Mrs. Hale, have you forgotten my last name?” My father is Robert Reed. Though long since retired from the front lines, his name still commands immense respect in the world of finance. My mother is one of the country’s most celebrated artists, a master whose students are scattered throughout the art world. I was never some helpless vine who needed the Hale family to survive. The only reason I hadn’t used my family’s connections was to preserve a final ounce of dignity—for myself, and for the man I once loved. But it was clear they didn’t want it. Mrs. Hale’s voice turned to ice. “It seems you’re determined to be stubborn.” “Then don’t blame me for being ruthless.” “Rachel, I will teach you the true meaning of despair.” After she hung up, my father called. His voice was as calm and steady as ever. “Rachel, you’ve been wronged.” “Do whatever you feel you must. Your father will always be your strongest shield.” Tears welled in my eyes. The pain and humiliation I had bottled up for days finally burst forth. “Dad,” I choked out, “I’m okay.” After the call, I wiped my tears and dialed another number. “Interested in a business proposition?” A low, smooth laugh answered me. “An invitation from Ms. Reed? I’m always interested.” “Tell me,” the voice purred, “how do you want to play?”

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I was dead last in my class. The System told me the only way to fix my brain and raise my grades was to bind myself to the student ranked #1 and establish “physical intimacy.” So, I became a simp for my toxic childhood friend, Julian. I followed him around like a lost puppy, ignoring his mockery and disgust, doing everything to please him. Then, I got a new desk mate. Liam was a transfer student, already scouted by Ivy Leagues. He was smart, gentle, and his smile looked like the sun. He brought me breakfast every day and patiently taught me how to solve math problems. Julian hated him. He ordered me not to speak to Liam. I obeyed. Until the next mock exam results came out. My new desk mate had dethroned Julian. Liam was the new Number One. (01) The noon heat after the mock exams was suffocating. As I walked up to the classroom to deliver porridge to Julian, I heard the boys laughing inside. Their tone was flippant, stinging my ears. “Did Stella actually go buy medicine?” “Yeah, I just casually mentioned Julian wasn’t feeling well, and she bolted.” “It’s like a hundred degrees out there.” “So what? She’s so obsessed with Julian, if he told her to bark, she’d probably get on all fours.” “Actually,” someone mused, “Stella is pretty cute. She’s got a nice face and a good temper.” Someone jeered, “You like her? Ask Julian to pass her to you.” “Julian, would you miss your little sidekick?” Silence for a few seconds. Then, Julian’s cold, clear voice cut through the air. “Get lost.” He sounded annoyed. The room went quiet, then someone asked hesitantly, “We tricked Stella into thinking you were sick so she’d run errands in this heat… you’re not mad, right?” “Why would I care?” Julian paused, his tone indifferent, dripping with his usual disdain. “If she’s stupid enough to believe whatever people tell her, how is she any different from a pig?” The room erupted in laughter. Someone was even pounding the desk. It was lively inside. I looked down at the porridge and medicine in my hands. Julian has a weak stomach. I’ve seen him pale, vomiting, and weak. That’s why when I heard he wasn’t feeling well and saw him face-down on his desk, I ran to the pharmacy. Turns out, I was being played. I stood there, dazed. (02) I couldn’t go back into the classroom, so I found a shaded spot to sit. I hadn’t eaten lunch, and my stomach was growling. The porridge steamed, smelling savory. It smelled good. I was hungry. I figured since Julian wasn’t actually sick, there was no point going in. I might as well eat it myself. [Julian is such a piece of trash! Can he even speak human?] The System’s voice exploded in my head. It sounded like it had been holding back for a long time, gritting its virtual teeth. [Stella, let’s go in there and slap him! I can’t take this anymore! So what if he’s #1? Unbind! We are not serving him anymore!] I was opening the lid of the porridge. I paused. “Huh? Can we do that? But he’s the top student.” The System: […] It reviewed the records. Julian had indeed been #1 on every single exam. So my binding target had never changed. The System deflated. [Fine. Forget it, Stella. Eat first. Eating is important.] As the warm food filled my stomach, the sadness from the scene upstairs finally hit me, slow and heavy. I was born with slow reactions. My emotional processing is weak. I learn things slowly and forget them quickly. That’s why I’ve always been dead last in the rankings. It’s not that I don’t try. I just don’t have the talent. My stupidity feels innate. Even if I do the same math problem a thousand times, I’ll forget the formula the next time I see it. Julian is different. He’s been #1 since kindergarten. The “neighbor’s kid” everyone compares you to. I used to envy him. How could someone be so smart? Then, in high school, I bound with the “Academic Genius System.” The System told me my intelligence was “locked” by some force. To “unlock” it and improve my grades, I had to be in close contact with the smartest person around. It called it “osmosis.” Before my parents died, their only wish was for me to study hard and get into a good college. I didn’t want to disappoint them, so I tried my hardest. But it was useless. With my grades, community college was a stretch. So, even though I knew Julian despised me, I followed him like I did when we were kids. I became his gofer. I agreed to every demand. I ran errands, bought water, held his umbrella. Because he was my target. Julian was cold, sharp-tongued, and arrogant. He was moody. When he was in a bad mood, he’d say things like he did today. He called me dumb, laughed at my IQ, called me a leech. But when he was in a good mood, he’d teach me how to solve a problem. Once, during a storm, I gave him my umbrella and prepared to run home in the rain. He grabbed me and pulled me under the canopy with him. The streetlights cast a warm yellow glow, softening his sharp features. He said, “Stella, are you an idiot? This umbrella is big enough for two.” His body heat traveled through his palm into my arm. We walked side by side in the rain. I didn’t know what “intimacy” the System required, so I just tried to be good to him. It hadn’t worked much before. But that moment under the umbrella, when Julian pulled me close… My heart pounded. I felt like my brain actually cleared up. When I got home, I didn’t forget what I studied. Sure enough, on the next monthly exam, I went up ten spots. Still at the bottom, but not the bottom. I might be slow, but I understand fairness. I don’t actually like Julian. He’s too mean. I approached him to use him for grades. Even though the System said my “borrowing” his intelligence didn’t hurt him, my parents taught me never to take advantage of people for free. So I tried to repay him. And since I couldn’t tell anyone about the System, I had to hide my true motive. That’s why I tolerated his cruelty. But today was different. I went to buy medicine because I was worried about him. When I ran out of the school gates, I wasn’t thinking about him as a target. I thought of him as a friend. I couldn’t watch a friend suffer. When we were kids, he used to look at me with disgust and say, “You’re as dumb as a pig. I don’t make friends with pigs.” So I stayed away. When he shared his umbrella, I thought we were friends again. But it was just me thinking that. I didn’t need the System to tell me. He said those things today because he doesn’t see me as a friend. Julian has never changed. (03) After finishing the porridge, I headed back to the classroom. Most students were napping, but Julian was sitting there, staring into space. He looked annoyed. His brows were furrowed, only relaxing slightly when he saw me. He lowered his voice. “Where did you go?” I told the truth. “I went to buy something.” His brow smoothed out more. He huffed lightly. “Where’s the porridge and medicine?” I looked at him. I really wanted to ask: You weren’t sick, so why are you asking for it? But it felt unnecessary. Compared to the System’s rage, I felt calm. Because I just didn’t care that much anymore. Julian isn’t my friend. No matter how mean he is, I won’t get angry. As long as he’s #1, I’ll keep following him to fix my grades. My reactions are slow. I don’t process hurt quickly. The sadness from earlier had already blown away with the wind. “I ate it,” I said earnestly. “I’ll buy it again next time you actually need it.” He looked stunned. His eyes darkened, and he looked like he wanted to say something, but stopped. As I walked past him, he said stiffly, “Stella, I want breakfast from Golden Lotus Dim Sum tomorrow.” Golden Lotus is a super popular spot. I’d have to wake up at 5 AM to queue. The System was grinding its teeth: [Stella, don’t debase yourself! Let him starve! Buy him breakfast? I say pour boiling water on him! We don’t need him, we’ll become geniuses on our own!] Me: “…” Me, a genius? I didn’t want to crush the System’s spirit, so I comforted it. “It’s okay. I like Golden Lotus too. I can buy some for myself.” When I got to my desk, I saw the desk next to mine was dusty. I took out a wet wipe and cleaned it. Julian turned around, saw this, and sneered. “Doing useless things every day. No wonder you fail every exam. If you spent this time on two math problems, maybe you’d get a pity point.” I didn’t understand why he was mad again. But I just gave a soft “Oh.” The System was furious: [He refuses to sit next to you, but gets mad when someone else does? He’s just jealous because the other guy got scouted by a top university!] I didn’t use to have a desk mate. Liam, the transfer student, arrived this semester. He wore a mask, but his eyes were beautiful. On his first day, he smiled and asked if he could sit next to me. He was smart and gentle. He patiently explained questions and never called me stupid. But he seemed sickly. He always wore a mask, coughed often, and had a raspy voice. I did his cleaning duty once, and he brought me breakfast for a whole week. Liam Xubai. Even his name sounded nice. Julian hated him. Every time he saw me talking to Liam, his face looked stormy. Finally, one day, he ordered me to stay away from Liam. I asked why. Julian said “no reason” and asked if I still wanted to study with him. I had to agree. I tossed and turned all night, not knowing how to tell Liam. It was the first friend I’d made in a long time. Luckily, I didn’t have to be mean. Liam stopped coming to school after that day. The teacher said Liam had secured his college spot and was busy with other things. Liam was a genius on the same level as Julian. Maybe geniuses just naturally repel each other. Julian looked at me, his tone cold but casual. “Stella, about you wanting to be my desk mate… I thought about it. As long as you don’t annoy me, it’s fine. When the rankings come out tomorrow, go tell the teacher to move you next to me.” I didn’t speak. I felt much happier sitting next to Liam than Julian. But Liam wasn’t coming back. Tomorrow, the results would come out, and Julian would still be #1. The college entrance exam (Gaokao) is coming. I have to get into college. I lowered my eyes and gave a soft “Mm.” (04) Results day. I woke up early to queue at Golden Lotus. I walked into school carrying the bags, still half-asleep. The bulletin board had just been updated. Only a few people were there. As I walked over, a voice like a clear spring stream sounded beside me. “Good morning, Stella.” I turned. A tall, bamboo-straight figure stood there. The boy looked down at me with a smile, making even the ugly school uniform look high-fashion. His face was unforgettable. But I felt like I’d never seen him before— Then I met those beautiful eyes. I hesitated. “Liam…?” “Yeah,” he said. “Long time no see.” I was happy. “Did you come back to school?” “Finished my business,” he said nonchalantly, stopping beside me. His smile was bright, like a summer breeze. “So I came back a couple of days ago to take the exam.” The crowd around the bulletin board grew loud. “Holy crap!” Someone screamed. “The #1 spot isn’t Julian anymore! Who is Liam Xubai?!” “718 points? Is he human? He beat Julian by like twenty points…” “Liam? The transfer student? I think I saw him during the test.” “Three years, and Julian finally lost the top spot!” The noise grew louder. My eyes grew wider. I looked at the handsome youth standing before me, stunned. “You’re the Class Rank One?” [OH MY GOD!!! STELLA!! We don’t have to look at Julian’s stank face anymore!!] The System screamed in my brain. [Switch binding! Switch binding! Processing now!!] I stared at Liam blankly. “If there isn’t someone else with my name, then I guess so,” Liam said casually, changing the subject. “It’s still early. Want to go to the cafeteria for breakfast?” Breakfast. I looked down instantly at the shrimp dumplings and scallop porridge in my hand. The aroma was amazing. Better than the cafeteria. “Do you eat this?” Without hesitation, I held up the plastic bag. “Here. Let’s eat together.” “Really?” He looked surprised, then his eyes curved into crescents. “Then I’ll bring you breakfast tomorrow. Deal?” Julian had never said anything like that to me. He never brought me breakfast. I didn’t know how to react, but something deep inside me cracked open, and a warm feeling sprouted from the fissure, spreading through my limbs. The System eagerly displayed a holographic screen: [Please confirm switch. Target Julian Xu changed to Target Liam Xubai.] In my heart, I whispered: “Confirm.” It was done. I looked at Liam, pursed my lips, and smiled. “Mm!” “Stella.” A familiar voice rang out. I turned. A group of boys stood behind me—the same ones who were laughing yesterday. In the center, Julian stood with a face dark as thunder. He must have been watching for a while. He stared at the breakfast I was handing to Liam. He pulled the corners of his mouth into a sneer and commanded, “Come here.” In the past, I did whatever he asked. Even when I didn’t want to. But Julian never cared about what I wanted. I shook my head. “I’m going to eat breakfast.” Julian looked incredulous. It was like he couldn’t process me rejecting him. But quickly, he reverted to form. Looking down at me, his voice cold and threatening, “Stella. I won’t say it a second time.” Last time he used this tone, he ignored me for two weeks and threw all my gifts in the trash. He knows I’ve always been afraid of him ignoring me. It always works. People were watching. I swallowed my words, turned my back to him, and looked at Liam. “Let’s go.” In that moment, the certainty in Julian’s eyes shattered. He instinctively took a step forward, like he wanted to grab me. But he stopped. He looked at me for a few seconds, then turned and walked away without a word.

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1 My best friend and I were a team of two: the beautiful, wicked women of this city’s elite. She was the canary in a gilded cage, kept by Jean Vance, the scion of an old-money dynasty, in his penthouse overlooking the park. I was the trophy girlfriend to Damian Blackwood, a tech mogul with new money and an insatiable need to show it off. We pooled the cash they gave us, a seventy-thirty split in her favor. She said I had terrible taste, that my man wasn’t as generous as hers. I said she had rocks for brains, that her man was all empty promises and charm. We bickered and fought, but together, we kept every other wannabe, every starlet and model, firmly in her place. Until the ingenue appeared. For her, Jean hung up on my best friend, Stella, for the first time ever. For her, Damian froze all of my credit cards. Stella and I just looked at each other. We didn’t need to say a word. Ah. The main character had arrived. … “I’m sorry, your card has been declined.” The cashier’s voice was quiet, but it echoed through the hushed boutique. Every head turned. Eyes, sharp with judgment and barely veiled contempt, drilled into me. The diamond bracelet, with its six-figure price tag, felt suddenly heavy in my hand. Just minutes ago, the sales associate had been fawning over me, calling me “Miss Zoe.” Now she’d taken a subtle step back, her posture radiating suspicion. I placed the bracelet gently back on its velvet tray. My hands were steady. “My apologies. Let’s try a different one.” I pulled out another card—not one of the endless black cards Damian had given me. This one was mine. The transaction went through instantly. I signed the slip, my movements crisp and deliberate. Stepping out of the mall, the sunlight was blinding. My phone buzzed. It was Stella. “My supplementary card just got canceled.” Her voice was flat, unreadable. “Mine too,” I said. A beat of silence on the other end. “Meet me at the usual place.” A smile crept into Stella’s voice. “Knew you’d be fine. I’ve got your back.” “See you there.” I hailed a cab and gave the driver the address of the small apartment we’d bought together with our own squirreled-away money. Through the window, the massive, imposing logo of Damian’s corporate headquarters flashed by. I turned my head away, my face a mask of indifference. The game was on. Stella was already there when I arrived. She’d kicked off her four-inch heels and was pacing the hardwood floor barefoot, still dressed in a stunning couture gown from some event. “Jean stood me up for that girl, Jenny Dallas.” She grabbed a bottle of sparkling water from the fridge and chugged half of it. “He had my seat removed from the head table at the charity gala. Just like that. I was the laughingstock of the entire evening.” I tossed the box with my new bracelet onto the coffee table. The diamonds inside caught the light, scattering cold, hard fire. “Damian was faster. He went straight for the accounts.” Stella stopped pacing and looked at me. Our eyes met. No complaints. No tears. We knew this was coming. In the story we’d been dropped into, this was our fate. The wicked supporting characters were destined to be crushed under the heel of the main couple, to become nothing more than stepping stones for their epic love story. “Hah,” Stella laughed first, a raw, sharp sound. “It’s finally starting.” I flipped open my laptop and pulled up our private joint account. The balance was a long, beautiful string of numbers. “We’ve held up our end of the bargain. We’ve been paid in full,” I said. “Now, it’s time to collect some interest.” Stella leaned over my shoulder, her eyes gleaming as she stared at the screen. “What’s the plan?” “Damian is about to launch a massive luxury development project called ‘Azure Vista.’ It’s his golden ticket, the thing that’s meant to wash away the stench of new money and get him a seat at the table with the old-money establishment.” My fingers flew across the keyboard. “I want to take that golden ticket and shatter it at his feet.” Damian Blackwood’s birthday gala was the event of the season. I showed up in a slinky, black slip dress that clung to every curve. I didn’t have an invitation. A security guard moved to block my path. “Miss Zoe, you can’t go in.” I didn’t even look at him. My gaze swept over the glittering crowd and locked onto Damian. He was holding court with a group of industry titans, laughing and charming them all. And there, tucked beside him, was Jenny Dallas. She was in a white, gossamer dress, looking as pure and fragile as a water lily. She saw me. Her eyes widened, and a hand flew to Damian’s sleeve, clutching it as she shrank behind him. Damian followed her gaze. The moment he saw me, his brow furrowed into a thunderous scowl. He strode towards me, disgust etched plainly on his handsome face. “What the hell are you doing here?” His voice was ice. “Happy birthday, Damian.” I gave him my most dazzling, meaningless smile. “I forgot to give you your present.” “Get lost.” “Not so fast.” I pulled a tiny USB drive from my clutch, dangling it in front of him. “Think of it as one last gift. For old times’ sake.” Damian’s eyes darkened. 2 He thought it was a sex tape. Or compromising photos. His hand shot out to grab it. I sidestepped him neatly. “Let’s keep this civil, Damian.” Heads were turning now. Whispers were starting to ripple through the crowd. Jenny drifted over, laying a delicate hand on Damian’s arm. “Damian, please don’t. Let’s just talk this out.” She turned to me, her eyes already welling up with tears, her voice trembling just so. “Zoe, darling, is there some kind of misunderstanding? Damian didn’t mean to hurt you, please don’t be angry with him.” What a perfect little actress. I ignored her completely, my eyes fixed on Damian. “Want it?” His face was a mask of fury. He bit out two words through clenched teeth: “Name your price.” “Straight to business. I like that,” I smiled. “I want five percent of the Azure Vista project. Non-dilutable shares.” His pupils constricted. Jenny gasped. “Zoe, you can’t! That’s extortion! You know how much that project means to Damian!” “Shut up,” Damian snarled, his gaze never leaving mine. “You’re dreaming.” “Am I?” I casually tossed the USB drive into the champagne tower next to us. Golden liquid splashed as the tiny device sank slowly to the bottom. “It’s a one-time offer, Damian.” I turned and walked away. The sharp click-clack of my heels on the marble floor sounded like a war drum. “Stop!” Damian’s voice roared behind me. I didn’t break my stride. As I stepped out of the hotel’s grand entrance, Stella’s car pulled up to the curb. I slipped into the passenger seat. “Done?” she asked, handing me a bottle of water. “He’ll bite,” I said, twisting the cap. A man like Damian Blackwood prized two things above all else: his reputation and his sense of control. There was nothing on that USB drive. But his paranoia? That was my most powerful weapon. Sure enough, less than thirty minutes later, my phone rang. It was Damian’s lawyer. “Miss Zoe, regarding your proposal… Mr. Blackwood has agreed in principle.” The contracts were signed without a hitch. Damian probably thought the 5% stake was just on loan to me. Once he got his hands on the non-existent drive and confirmed there was no threat, he’d find a way to take it back. But now, I had access to all of Azure Vista’s internal documents. Back at our apartment, Stella and I spread the thick binders and blueprints across the floor. “Damian’s ambition is off the charts,” Stella said, tapping the master plan. “He wants to turn this land into an ultra-exclusive private resort. Membership fees starting in the eight figures.” “Which means the entire project hinges on two things: privacy and exclusivity,” I pointed out. “And both of those things depend on one man.” We looked at each other and said the name in unison. “Alistair Finch.” Alistair Finch was the country’s foremost architectural visionary, a master of spatial aesthetics, and a notorious recluse. His designs were masterpieces, and getting him to take on a project was next to impossible. Damian had moved heaven and earth just to get a meeting. And Jenny Dallas, in her new role as a devoted “student” and “admirer,” was spending every single day at Finch’s studio. According to the original script of this story, Jenny was supposed to win Finch over with her “innocence” and “raw talent.” He would then agree to personally design Azure Vista, cementing Damian’s legacy. “Her talent?” Stella scoffed. “You mean her talent for plagiarism?” We both knew. Jenny’s graduating thesis—the award-winning watercolor painting First Light that had made her a star—was a complete and total rip-off of a piece by an obscure foreign artist. The original artist had vanished from the public eye years ago, and the work had never been widely published, giving Jenny the perfect cover. “We can’t just drop the plagiarism bomb on her,” I said. “That would be letting her off too easy,” Stella finished my thought. “She needs to be at the absolute height of her glory when she comes crashing down.” 3 My phone rang. It was Damian’s assistant. “Miss Zoe, Mr. Blackwood requests your presence at the Azure Vista site for a preliminary survey.” I raised an eyebrow. So, he wanted to put me in my place in front of Alistair Finch while propping up his new muse. “Of course,” I said sweetly. After I hung up, Stella asked, “You’re not going alone, are you?” “Of course not.” I grinned at her. “You’re coming with me. We’ve got front-row seats to the show.” The project site was out in the countryside, a stunning expanse of rolling hills and pristine forest. When we arrived, Damian and Jenny were already there, deep in conversation with an imposing, silver-haired man dressed in a minimalist linen suit. That had to be Alistair Finch. The moment Damian saw us, his face darkened. Jenny, on cue, adopted an expression of surprise mixed with gentle distress. “Zoe? Stella? What are you doing here?” “As a shareholder, I thought I should see the investment for myself. Isn’t that right?” I smiled. Damian just grunted and turned his back on me. Alistair Finch’s gaze drifted over us, cool and detached. The survey began. Damian’s project manager led the way, while Jenny stuck close to Finch’s side, whispering her “insights” on the landscape in a voice as soft and sweet as honey. “Mr. Finch, I envision a stream diverted through here, with a winding bridge. We could plant weeping willows along the bank to create a sense of… contemplative discovery.” Finch remained noncommittal. Damian, however, was beaming. “A brilliant idea, Jenny. Truly inspired.” The group made its way to the edge of a steep cliff overlooking a deep, rocky ravine. Jenny’s eyes flickered towards a small, unremarkable wildflower growing near the edge. Then, with a tiny, theatrical gasp, she stumbled, her body pitching directly towards the drop. Damian moved like lightning, catching her and pulling her into a protective embrace. “Careful! Are you alright?” His voice was thick with concern and adoration. Nestled against his chest, Jenny’s face was pale, her voice trembling as if in shock. “I… I saw the most unique flower over there. I just wanted a closer look, I didn’t realize the ground was so slippery…” Right. The classic damsel-in-distress routine from the book. Too bad for you, sweetheart. I’m playing the villain now, and I’m not buying it. Stella whispered in my ear, “The Academy owes her an Oscar.” After soothing Jenny, Damian turned to me, his expression instantly turning venomous. “Did you push her?” The air went still. Every single person turned to stare at me. The project team looked terrified. Even Alistair Finch was frowning, his sharp eyes fixed on me. In Damian’s arms, Jenny trembled, burying her face deeper into his suit. Her muffled voice was a masterpiece of reluctant accusation. “Damian, no, it wasn’t Zoe’s fault, please don’t blame her… I just lost my footing.” Her defense did more to condemn me than any accusation could have. Damian’s rage was palpable. “Zoe. I warned you. Don’t you ever touch her.” I stood my ground, silent and still. Stella stepped in front of me, a protective shield. “Watch what you say, Blackwood. There are a dozen witnesses here. Nobody saw anyone push anybody.” “Besides her,” Damian sneered, “who else here can’t stand the sight of Jenny?” “I can’t stand the sight of you,” Stella shot back without missing a beat. “You—!” “Enough.” It was Alistair Finch. His voice was quiet but carried an undeniable authority. He glanced at the edge of the cliff, then back at the spot where Jenny had pointed. There was no “unique flower.” There was nothing. A flicker of scrutiny crossed his face. “We are professionals,” he said coolly. “Let’s keep our focus on the project, shall we?” The master had spoken. Damian couldn’t press the issue further. He shot me one last poisonous glare before leading the still-trembling Jenny away. The farce was over. For now. 4 Stella was quiet on the drive back, her knuckles white on the steering wheel. “Is Damian blind? How could he fall for such a pathetic, clumsy act?” “He’s not blind. He just doesn’t want to see,” I said. “It doesn’t matter if Jenny was acting. He needed an excuse to put me down, and she handed him one on a silver platter.” That was the power of being the main character. “So what do we do?” Stella asked. “We can’t let her get away with framing you every time.” “Let her act,” I said, watching the scenery blur past the window. “The more dramatic her performance, the more it’s going to hurt when she finally takes a real fall.” Back at the apartment, I opened my laptop and logged into an international art forum. I typed in the name of the artist Jenny had plagiarized: Anya Sharma. There was painfully little information about her. All I could find was that she was an Indian painter who held a single solo exhibition a decade ago, and then disappeared. I clicked on the exhibition details. A small, black-and-white photo showed Anya Sharma standing in front of one of her paintings. The composition, the atmosphere… it was unmistakably the framework for Jenny’s First Light. At least an eighty percent match. I saved the photo. It wasn’t enough. I needed something more. Something undeniable. Something that would not only expose Jenny but would also ignite the fury of a purist like Alistair Finch. Just as I was plotting, my phone rang. An unknown number. I answered. It was the cold, impersonal voice of Damian’s assistant. “Miss Zoe. Congratulations. You are now the guarantor for a new venture.” A knot of ice formed in my stomach. Here it comes. The assistant continued, “A commercial loan in the amount of fifty million dollars. You have been signed on as the sole guarantor under an unlimited liability agreement. Should the project default, you will be responsible for the entire debt.” “When did I ever sign that?” “Mr. Blackwood signed it for you. In your name,” he said, as if discussing the weather. “Oh, and I forgot to mention. The project is scheduled to default today.” The line went dead. Stella had heard everything. Her face was pale. “He’s trying to ruin you. Bury you under a debt you can never repay!” The book’s cruelty was more vicious than I’d remembered. My phone rang again. This time, it was Damian. “Zoe. I’m curious to see just how unbreakable you really are.” His voice was laced with sadistic pleasure. “This was you,” I stated, my voice even. “Of course,” he admitted without hesitation. “Now, come to the West Side scrapyard. Get on your knees and beg me. If you’re convincing enough, maybe I’ll be merciful and make this little problem of yours disappear.” The call was on speaker. Stella’s fists were clenched so tight her knuckles were white. I gazed out the window at the oppressive night sky. “Damian,” I said, my voice dangerously calm, “you really think you’ve won, don’t you?” He chuckled, a low, arrogant sound full of absolute certainty. “Don’t I?” I smiled. “Fine. I’m on my way.” I hung up and looked at Stella. “Call the police.” 5 She stared at me, horrified. “Are you serious? You’re walking right into his trap!” “He doesn’t want me dead. He wants to see me grovel,” I said, grabbing my purse and checking the tiny recording pen inside. “The more arrogant he is, the more careless he’ll be.” I drove to the scrapyard. Damian was leaning against a black Bentley, flanked by several imposing bodyguards who looked like they were carved from granite. He saw me, and a cruel smile twisted his lips. “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t show.” “How could I refuse an invitation from the man of the hour?” I walked towards him, my steps measured. “So, you’ve come to your senses?” His eyes raked over me, dripping with contempt. “Kneel.” I didn’t move. I just held his gaze. “All of this, just to make me kneel. Forging my signature, setting me up for a fifty-million-dollar debt… it’s quite the production, Damian.” “This is just the beginning,” he said, savoring what he thought was my fear. “That agreement you faked? Once it comes to light, Blackwood Enterprises will be at the center of a massive financial fraud scandal. What do you think your board of directors will have to say about that?” I clicked the stop button on the recorder in my pocket. “Are you insane?” For the first time, his composure cracked. “Takes one to know one.” I took out my phone. Right there, in front of him, I emailed the audio file to his lead counsel, CC’ing the private email address of the chairman of his company’s board. “You’re bluffing,” he snarled, his voice low and dangerous. “You forced my hand.” I turned to leave. “Now, I believe you’re the one with the headache.” Checkmate, you arrogant bastard. I was completely drained when I got back to the apartment, collapsing onto the sofa. Stella handed me a glass of water. “We won this round.” “It’s only temporary,” I said, taking a sip. “Damian’s retaliation will be swift.” The next day, the entire city was buzzing with the story. They said I was a desperate ex, so obsessed with getting Damian back that I’d staged my own fake kidnapping to frame him, even getting the police involved. The smear campaign was swift and brutal. Overnight, I became the psycho ex-girlfriend, the manipulative villain in everyone’s story. Stella didn’t fare much better. Jean Vance sent his butler to her apartment to reclaim every piece of jewelry he’d ever given her. Like an auditor taking inventory, the man checked each item off a list. “Mr. Vance asked me to inform you,” the butler said, his voice cold, “that you are no longer worthy of owning these items.” Stella dropped the last earring into the velvet-lined box. “Tell Jean,” she said, looking the butler dead in the eye, “that his taste, it seems, is only fit for trash like Jenny.” We were completely ostracized. The people who used to flock around us now avoided us like the plague. Damian and Jean wanted to make one thing clear: without them, we were nothing. Stella and I were holed up in our little apartment, eating instant noodles. The financial news was on TV. A triumphant Damian Blackwood was officially announcing the launch of the Azure Vista project. He proudly introduced the soul of the project: special guest designer, Jenny Dallas. On screen, Jenny was the picture of grace in a simple, elegant silk dress. She stood by Damian’s side, speaking eloquently about her vision for the project, her voice full of artistic passion. “She’s such a fraud,” Stella muttered, slamming her noodle cup down. I pushed some of my noodles into her cup. “Eat. Don’t waste your anger on people like her.” She snorted, slurping up a mouthful of noodles, and nudged my leg with her foot. We met each other’s gaze, and in her eyes, I saw the same stubborn fire that was in mine. My eyes were glued to the TV, specifically to the painting hanging behind Jenny—her masterpiece, First Light. An idea began to form. “Stella. I need to get to Kyoto.” “Kyoto?” she asked, confused. “I’m going to find Anya Sharma,” I said. “I need to get my hands on the original painting. Or, even better, I need to get Anya Sharma herself to stand right in front of Alistair Finch.”

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I grew up bouncing between continents. My mother, Vivian, terrified I’d bring home a bohemian artist or, God forbid, someone who didn’t understand the rules of the Metropolitan Elite, settled the matter herself. She’d found me a fiancé—a man of status and impeccable pedigree—and demanded I return to Manhattan’s high society for the engagement. I was at a flagship boutique on Fifth Avenue, looking for an engagement dress. I spotted a stunning ivory silk bustier gown. Just as I reached for it, preparing to try it on, a woman nearby glanced at the dress in my hand. “That style is actually rather chic,” she announced to the attendant. “Bring it over. I want to try it.” The attendant, without a word, snatched the gown rudely out of my grasp. “Excuse me?” I said, bristling. “There’s a clear first-come, first-served rule here. I had it first. Do you people have any sense of decency?” She looked me up and down with utter contempt. “That dress is worth twenty-five thousand dollars. Could a pauper like you even afford the sales tax?” She tossed her perfectly coiled hair. “I’m Savannah Reed, the Devlin Group CEO Brooks Devlin’s Ward. In this city, the only ‘decency’ that matters is what the Devlin family decides it is.” Well, wasn’t that convenient? Brooks Devlin was the man I was supposed to marry. I immediately pulled out my phone and called him. “Your Ward just stole my engagement dress. How exactly do you intend to handle this?” 1 The word “Ward,” when she said it, always sounded less like a relative and more like an indiscretion wrapped in an expensive label. If Brooks couldn’t offer a solid, respectable explanation for this whole mess, our engagement was clearly off. But to my surprise, Brooks’s voice on the other end was frigid. “Who is this? And since when do you, an outsider, get to weigh in on my relationship with Savannah?” I was about to snap that I was his fiancée when he simply hung up. My jaw dropped. The nerve. Not only did he allow his “Ward” to harass me, but he hadn’t even bothered to save my number. Savannah, watching the whole exchange, dissolved into delighted laughter. “Bitch! Did you really think getting ahold of Brooks’s number meant you could hitch your wagon to the Devlin star? Dream on.” Her eyes raked over my simple, comfortable outfit. “Even the janitors at the Devlin Group wear pricier things than that.” I’d always prioritized comfort and simplicity over designer labels. It had never occurred to me that one day, my outfit would be used as a weapon against me. “It’s the 21st century, and you’re still pulling the ‘judge-a-book-by-its-cover’ routine,” I shot back. “Brooks must be blind to keep a judgmental waste of space like you around.” The argument had thoroughly killed my interest in the dress. I took it from the sales rack, intending to buy it immediately. The counter clerk looked hesitant. “Ma’am, our store gives priority to our Black Diamond Tier members.” Savannah’s smile widened smugly. She pulled a gleaming, invitation-only card from her clutch and slammed it onto the glass counter. “A million-dollar deposit to even apply for this tier. What are you waiting for, you poor trash?” I am generally not a confrontational person. But Savannah Reed had succeeded in unleashing my fury. I retrieved my sleek, unmarked Centurion Card and handed it to the clerk, keeping my voice level despite the adrenaline rush. “Enroll me. Max membership. And then package this dress for me.” Savannah leaned in, her voice a low threat to the clerk. “Manhattan belongs to the Devlins. If you sell that dress to her, my Brooks will buy this entire boutique tomorrow and have you all fired.” The clerk recoiled slightly. “I’m just an employee, ma’am. I truly cannot afford to cross the Devlin Group.” The crowd that had gathered began whispering. “I’ve seen Miss Reed a few times. Mr. Devlin is completely obsessed with her.” “Someone crossed her last year and was ruined. Bankrupted.” “Even if she has some money, it’s nothing compared to the Devlin empire. Just apologize, sweetie. Beg her to let you go.” Savannah was preening, her head tilted back, soaking up the validation. “Bitch, get down on your knees. Shout ‘I am a pathetic phony and I was wrong’ three times. Maybe then I’ll consider granting you mercy.” Twenty-six years on this earth, and this was the first time someone had dared to be this arrogantly insolent in front of me. “Say that again,” I prompted, a slow smile touching my lips. “What am I supposed to shout?” “Are you deaf? ‘I am a pathetic phony and I was wrong!’ Can’t you hear those words?” I allowed the smile to turn into a full, cold smirk. “I heard you perfectly. Since you already know you’re a pathetic phony, why don’t you just get lost and stop cluttering up my sightline?” The realization hit Savannah instantly. She had been played. She shrieked, windmilling her arms as she rushed toward me. It was laughable. She was a stage-four amateur. I’m a black belt. I delivered a clean, hard side-kick. Savannah crumpled to the marble floor, shrieking. A collective gasp went up from the onlookers. “Oh my God! How could she do that to Miss Reed?” “If Mr. Devlin hears about this, he’ll have her shredded.” “The Lord himself couldn’t save her now.” Their panic didn’t move me. The Devlin family’s entire standing in this city was, as I knew, indirectly dependent on my mother. There was no one here I needed to fear. I slapped my card back on the counter. “Checkout. Now.” The clerk was trembling, but she processed the payment, bagged the gown, and handed it to me. I picked up the dress and turned to leave. But Savannah, scrambling back up, blocked my way again. “You can’t just walk away!” I raised my hand and wiggled my fingers in front of her face. “Want to test my hands again?” She flinched back instantly. I scoffed and stepped toward the exit. Just then, a sleek, black Bentley pulled up outside. The first thing that hit the Fifth Avenue sidewalk was a custom, thin-soled leather loafer—Bottega, probably. That’s when the relief hit, a physical gasp in my chest. I followed the line of the leg up, feeling a sudden rush of anticipation. He was easily six-foot-three, broad-shouldered, and lean. And the face. Chiseled, perfect angles. A 360-degree knockout. Savannah immediately dissolved into theatrics, running over to cling to his arm. “Brooksie! She took the dress I wanted and she kicked me!” So, this was my fiancé. I am, admittedly, a sucker for a beautiful face. Brooks Devlin’s looks were exactly the kind of jawline-and-smoldering-eyes that made my pulse jump. For this face, I could almost forgive his earlier rudeness. I offered what I thought was my most charming smile. “Hello. I’m Audrey Bellwether. Your fiancée.” No wonder Mom was so confident I’d approve. She really did know me too well. The onlookers gasped again. “What?! She’s the Devlin CEO’s fiancée?” “A fiancée beats a Ward, right? No wonder she’s so confident.” “Maybe. It depends on who he favors more.” Brooks’s gaze landed on me, and his voice was cold, dismissive. “Don’t flatter yourself. That contract was forced by my father. I never agreed to it.” Savannah draped herself intimately over his shoulder, her eyes burning with pure triumph. “Look at you. You’re such an ugly duckling. Brooks would never marry you.” Someone in the crowd chimed in. “Exactly! Mr. Devlin is going to marry an actual society princess. Not this peasant.” “She’s so low-class, she probably couldn’t even get a job sweeping floors at the Devlin offices.” I knew I wasn’t a goddess, but I was definitely not ugly. Why, in their mouths, did I sound like something scraped off the bottom of a shoe? The human tendency to latch onto power and crush the weak was truly vile. “Brooks Devlin,” I said, looking him dead in the eye. “Go tell your father that I am breaking off this engagement. You’re not good enough for me.” I knew my mother had made his father jump through hoops to secure this alliance. If his son had ruined it, there would be hell to pay. The thought cheered me slightly. I was done with these idiots. I turned to walk away. But Savannah, emboldened by the presence of her man, blocked my exit again. “You’re not going anywhere, bitch! You stole my dress and hit me. We’re not done settling the score.” I looked at her with disdain. “How do you propose to settle it?” Thinking I was intimidated, she raised her hand to slap me. “By hitting you until I’m satisfied.” I intercepted her wrist with one hand and delivered a sharp, clean slap across her cheek with the other. She stared at me, disbelief twisting her features. “You—you hit a—” I reversed the movement and hit her again, harder. I asked, my voice low and dangerous, “Are you satisfied now?” The two slaps thoroughly extinguished her bravado. She whimpered and scrambled to hide behind Brooks. “Brooksie! You have to protect me!” Brooks pulled her protectively into his arms, then glared at me. “You dare lay a hand on my person? You must have a death wish.” He signaled his bodyguards behind him to grab me. I managed to take out the first one, but I was quickly overwhelmed. They were professionals. After a few solid blows, I was on the ground. Two of them hauled me up, dragging me back in front of Brooks and Savannah. Brooks gave Savannah a sympathetic look. “Go on, Sav. Settle it. Do whatever you want. I’ll take care of the fallout.” That was all the assurance she needed. She swung her arm, slapping me twice, then spat a stream of saliva right onto my face. “Bitch! You were so tough a minute ago! Where’s that attitude now?” Then, she kicked me hard in the lower abdomen. Clutching my stomach, the pain blinding me, I looked up at both of them. “You will both regret this. I swear, I will never let you get away with this!” Savannah laughed, a harsh, grating sound. “The Devlin family is one of the three pillars of power in this city! What are you, a street urchin, going to do against us?” “Today, I’m going to make sure you remember what it costs to cross me!” She pulled a silver nail file—no, a set of clippers—from her purse and dragged the sharp edge across my cheek. A searing heat erupted, and my skin swelled, blood quickly beading along the line. “I told her not to cross the Devlins,” a woman whispered mournfully. “What a shame. Such a lovely face. Now it’s ruined.” “We common people just have to know when to keep our heads down.” Savannah raised the clippers for another swipe. The sheer terror of being permanently scarred seized me. I immediately started pleading. “I’m sorry. The dress is yours. I shouldn’t have fought you for it.” Not a gentleman’s revenge; a quiet one. But Savannah carved another line across my face. “Too late for apologies, bitch! I’m not done until I’ve satisfied my rage!” I screamed, the sound tearing from my throat. I looked at Brooks. “Brooks Devlin, don’t you care who I am? Allowing her to do this to me—you will regret it!” He looked disgusted. “Your identity? You mean your tramp of a mother, who sweet-talked my old man until he lost his mind and forced this engagement? That identity?” Savannah’s eyes glinted with malice. “A gold-digger’s daughter. You must be a little gold-digger yourself. I think we need to strip you down and wash the stench off you!” “No!” Just then, my cell phone rang inside my purse. I struggled frantically, but Savannah snatched it before I could reach it. She swiped the answer button. My mother’s voice, calm and warm, filled the air. “Audrey, how did the dress shopping go?” I screamed into the phone. “Mom! Please, help me! I’m being beaten, and they’re going to strip me!” Vivian’s voice snapped with immediate panic. “What! Who is doing this?” Savannah’s voice, arrogant and loud, cut across the line. “It’s me, your worst nightmare! Your little gold-digger is out here soliciting attention, so I’m giving her a lesson in manners!” My mother’s voice was deadly quiet. “I don’t care who you are. Release my daughter immediately, or when I get there, you’ll be the one learning a lesson.” “Oh, do come over! I’ll be right here waiting for you, witch. I’ll peel the skin right off you both!” Smash. Savannah slammed the phone down, shattering it. She backhanded me again. “You two are cut from the same trashy cloth! When your mother gets here, I’ll strip her too!” Time crawled by. It felt like half a century, though barely five minutes had passed. Finally, a familiar, armored Rolls-Royce Phantom pulled into the loading zone outside the boutique. My mother, Vivian, pushed the car door open and stepped out. “I’d like to see who is planning to peel my skin.” The moment I saw her, the shame and pain of the last hour collapsed into pure relief. “Mom!” I choked out. Vivian rushed toward me, pulling me into her embrace. Finally, nestled in her familiar, expensive scent, I felt safe. The onlookers gasped again, their whispers changing direction. “Look at that car! That’s a custom-armored Phantom. Global limited edition.” “Only old-money or serious power owns a car like that. Miss Reed might have just kicked a steel plate.” “A steel plate? No one is harder than the Devlins!” Savannah was of the same mind. She marched right up to my mother, oblivious to the danger. “So, you’re the old witch. Your daughter tried to steal the dress I wanted and she attacked me. Tell me, how exactly are you going to pay for this?” Vivian simply raised an eyebrow. “Tell me. How do you want to be paid?” Savannah, mistaking my mother’s stillness for fear, crowed her demands. “The dress has been touched, so you owe me ten times the price for compensation. For the two bruises I got, she needs to kneel before me, kiss my shoes, and give herself twenty open-hand slaps. Most importantly, the engagement to Brooks is canceled.” She made a grand, condescending gesture. “If you agree to all of this, I’ll be merciful and let you leave the store. Otherwise, neither of you is walking out of here.” My mother, hearing the sheer gall of the demands, actually started to laugh. She patted my shoulder reassuringly, then walked slowly toward Savannah. “The engagement between Audrey and Brooks will certainly be called off, because Brooks Devlin is utterly unworthy of being my son-in-law. As for the rest of your demands…” Vivian raised her hand and delivered a savage, precise slap across Savannah’s face. “You can forget about them. The only people not walking out of here today will be you.” Savannah was stunned for a second, then tried to retaliate. One of my mother’s bodyguards moved with lightning speed, kicking Savannah’s legs out from under her, forcing her to her knees. Her arms were pinned behind her like steel restraints. “Brooksie, it hurts! Help me!” Savannah cried out, looking up at him. Brooks signaled his own bodyguards, but they were quickly dispatched by Vivian’s team. Within moments, Brooks Devlin was also forced to his knees, pinned directly in front of me. My mother slapped Brooks with equal force. “Since you were a child, I haven’t allowed a single finger to be laid on my daughter. You allowed her to be subjected to this humiliation. You will pay for it tenfold, a hundredfold!” Brooks shouted defiantly. “I’m the CEO of the Devlin Group! You crazy old woman—do you have any idea the consequences of hitting me?” “You dare to hurt my daughter? I wouldn’t hesitate to slap your father just as hard if he were here!” The crowd gasped again.

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