Category: English

I transmigrated into a cliché, high-society romance novel. The heroine’s family had just gone bankrupt, and she was being publicly humiliated by the villain. With a wicked smirk, the villain drawled, “Kiss me. One million dollars.” I rushed forward, threw my arms around his neck, and smeared his face with my lipstick. Then, playing the part of a sweet, innocent girl, I cooed, “Oh, darling, I hope I don’t kiss you into bankruptcy.” 1 On the 7,001st day of being so broke I considered reporting my own poverty to the police, I was suddenly transported into a book. It was a high-society Mary Sue novel, and I had become the young heiress whose family had just lost everything. But whether the family was rich or broke didn’t really matter. This was a Mary Sue novel, after all. The default setting was that every man alive was hopelessly in love with me. Having read the entire book, I could best describe it as: The Heroine and Her Army of Simps. The man in front of me, however, was the one exception. The only man in the entire book who wasn’t a total simp. He was also the main villain—Tim Thorne. Tim leaned back in his chair, the picture of lazy arrogance, a cigarette dangling from his fingers. His eyes swept over me for a moment before he spoke, his voice dripping with scorn. “Well, well. Look what the cat dragged in. Our dear Miss Monroe.” The others in the private room took their cue, chiming in with glee. “The Monroe Corporation collapsed, didn’t it? I bet the debt collectors have worn a path to your door.” “Life without money must be tough.” “Hey, we were classmates once, Mia. If you beg me, maybe I’ll spare you a few bucks.” Tim let out a short, sharp laugh, flicking ash from his cigarette with careless grace. “What do you say? Feel like begging?” The laughter in the room grew louder. “Alright, how about this,” Tim said, as if making a grand concession. “Begging is probably too hard for you. How about kissing?” His gaze swept across the room. “Kiss anyone in here. Including me.” “One kiss,” he said, a cruel smile playing on his lips, “is worth a million dollars.” The room erupted in cheers. I could see it in their eyes—the glee, the tension, the eager anticipation. And in Tim’s eyes, pure, cold indifference. In the original novel, the heroine, unable to bear the humiliation, stormed out in a tearful rage. But I wasn’t the original heroine. I was broke. Looking back on the 7,001 days of my previous life, had there ever been an easier way to make money? Absolutely not. With all eyes on me, I walked straight toward Tim. I didn’t just stop in front of him; I sat down right on his lap and wrapped my arms around his neck. Jaws around the room practically hit the floor. I looked into Tim’s eyes and whispered, “Are you serious about this?” He raised an eyebrow. “Of course.” Well, then. He couldn’t blame me for what came next. I cupped his face, held his head, and, like I was using a rubber stamp, eagerly began plastering his face with kisses. With each kiss, I chanted silently in my head: A million. Another million. And another million. The room grew quieter and quieter, until the only sound was the wet smack of my lips against his skin. …It was actually pretty embarrassing. A wave of belated awkwardness washed over me, but I wasn’t about to let this opportunity slip away. I summoned my courage, planted a few more for good measure, and then finally let him go. Tim was completely dumbfounded. In fact, everyone in the room was dumbfounded. You could have heard a pin drop. I slid off his lap, calmly smoothed down my dress, and wiped my lips with the back of my hand. Tim stared at me, sputtering. “You—you—you—” Afraid he was about to back out of the deal, I put on my most innocent, doe-eyed expression. “Oh, darling,” I cooed, “I’m not going to kiss you into bankruptcy, am I?” “Don’t be ridiculous.” Tim snapped back to his usual arrogant self in a second. “You could glue your lips to my face for the rest of your life, and I could still afford it!” “…” I gave him a token round of applause. “Great. Pay up, then.” Tim looked away, his perfectly sculpted fingers yanking at the collar of his shirt. He pulled out his phone and made a call to his assistant, his voice a mask of nonchalance. “Bring me the checkbook.” He looked utterly ridiculous, trying to act cool with bright red lipstick smeared all over his face. I had to bite my cheek to keep from laughing out loud. While we waited for the check, Tim suddenly asked, “How many times did you kiss me? Do you remember?” I glanced at him. He quickly looked away. “No reason. Just, you know, for the final amount.” I shook my head. He turned to the others. They all shook their heads too. A look of exasperated resignation crossed his face. “Fine. We’ll have to check the security footage.” In the end, Tim watched the security footage five times. Only after this meticulous verification did he finally sign and hand me the check. “…” Unbelievable. He was a cheapskate, too. 2 I walked out of that room clutching a check for thirty-five million dollars, my mind reeling. Money had never come this easily. I was half-convinced I was dreaming. Just as I was about to pinch myself, a voice echoed in my head: [Tim Thorne Affection: 5%.] I froze. “What was that?” The voice, which I now recognized as a System, chirped excitedly: [Once Tim Thorne’s affection for you reaches 100%, you can return to your original world!] “No! I don’t want to go back!” I protested. I was dirt poor in my old world. Here, I just made thirty-five million dollars in five minutes. It was a no-brainer. Besides, I was kind of looking forward to the romance part of this novel. A whole cast of handsome men falling all over me? That sounded way better than any power fantasy. The System hesitated. [Well, um…] An idea struck me. “I just won’t try to win him over. If his affection stays at 5% forever, then I can’t ever go back, right?” The System stammered again. [Well, I, uh…] I mentally high-fived myself for my genius. [Ding! Rules have been updated!] The System’s voice was suddenly cheerful. [When Tim Thorne’s affection reaches 100%, you will be able to stay in this world forever!] I was silent for a full five seconds before I found my voice. “Are you kidding me?” The System replied mischievously, [The rules are the rules! The mission timer is one month. Good luck!~] “…” Sensing my despair, the System added: [Thirty-five million dollars, though.] That snapped me out of it. There was nothing more terrifying than being poor. I had to conquer Tim Thorne within a month. But as I thought about the original plot, my head started to ache. Tim was an arrogant, self-obsessed narcissist. How the hell was I supposed to make him fall in love with me in thirty days? “Wait, how did his affection go up by 5% just now?” [He was watching the security footage.] “…” I pleaded carefully, “Is there any way we can make him watch it for, say, three days straight?” [That would depend on his personal willingness.] Apparently, Tim’s personal willingness was quite strong. By the time I went to the bank the next day to cash the check, his affection level had already climbed to 13%. According to the System, he’d spent the entire night watching the footage. I remembered the look of disdain on his face in the club and couldn’t help but scoff. Heh. Men. The check cleared, and my bank account swelled by thirty-five million. I was just wondering where to go on a massive shopping spree when my phone rang. It was Tim. His tone was as arrogant and condescending as ever. “I hear our dear Miss Monroe is a little short on cash?” “Get to the point,” I said, my patience already thin. He was silent for a beat. “Pretend to be my girlfriend for a month. Name your price.” I was shocked. I checked with the System. “I don’t remember this happening in the book.” [Correct. The original plot is now completely off the rails. You are free to improvise.] “…” Was this not a golden opportunity falling right into my lap? I was just worrying about how to get close to him. Tim, impatient with my silence, snapped, “What? Not interested?” “I am,” I purred, switching to a soft, gentle tone. “I’m just curious why, that’s all.” “You don’t need to know why,” he said, his voice cold. “All you need to know is that for the next month, you’re my girlfriend.” I played along. “Okay, darling~” He hung up instantly. A moment later, the System’s cool, metallic voice chimed in: [Tim Thorne Affection increased by 2%. Current Affection: 15%.] I scoffed again. Heh. Men. 3 After hanging up, Tim sent me an address. [Come here.] I glanced at it, put my phone away, and hailed a cab to the city’s largest shopping mall. The System was surprised. [You’re not going?] “No rush.” [A reminder: if you fail to complete the mission within one month, you may be expelled from this world.] “I think a guy whose affection goes up by 13% just from watching a security video all night isn’t going to be that hard to win over.” The System went silent. “Besides,” I added, “with a guy like Tim, you can’t be too eager.” The book’s primary description of Tim was “narcissist.” His narcissism bordered on full-blown arrogance. He believed no woman on earth was worthy of him, which was why he kept his distance from them. Even when faced with the novel’s stunningly beautiful original heroine, he remained unmoved. That was how he ended up as the main villain. But after I showed up and aggressively kissed him, he seemed to be having second thoughts. What kind of narcissist gets a 13% affection boost from watching a video of himself all night? Surely he wasn’t falling for his own on-screen persona. My guess was that Tim Thorne liked a woman who took charge. In other words, he might have a bit of a masochistic streak. For the sake of my mission, I decided to test this theory. After a three-hour shopping blitz, I finally remembered the man I’d left hanging. I arranged for the mall to deliver my purchases to the Monroe mansion and then caught another cab to the address Tim had sent. By the time I arrived, the party was already in full swing. I jogged up to Tim, slightly out of breath. “Sorry I’m late.” He shot me a look of disdain. “What took you so long?” “I was picking out a present for you.” I pushed a tie clip and a watch I’d bought into his hands. “It took a while to choose. I hope you like it.” Tim glanced at me, then looked around at his friends. “See? Now do you believe me?” “The ‘goddess’ you all talk about is head over heels for me. Last night she even…” He clicked his tongue, as if annoyed. “But since she clearly adores me, I’ll let it slide.” “She confessed her love to me last night, and I accepted.” Tim took my hand, which was hanging by my side. “Mia is my girlfriend now.” A collective gasp went through the crowd. Clearly, Tim was savoring this moment. Now I understood why he needed me to pretend to be his girlfriend. He wanted to show off. To use me as a trophy. He was the same old narcissist, alright. To test my theory, I decided to play along with his childish game. I lowered my head, feigning shyness, and then peeked up at him from under my lashes. As if overcome with affection, I placed my hands on his shoulders, stood on my tiptoes, and leaned in to kiss him. A light, quick peck on the lips. Tim froze. Then, his cheeks and ears turned a shade of crimson so deep it was visible to the naked eye. He muttered dismissively, “What are you doing? We’re in public,” but I clearly heard the System’s notification: [Tim Thorne Affection increased by 5%. Current Affection: 20%.] I couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. This guy definitely liked it rough. 4 For the sake of my mission, I played the part of the perfect, doting girlfriend in front of Tim’s friends, stroking his ego at every turn. He seemed to enjoy it on the surface, but his affection level didn’t budge. Just as I was starting to wonder if brute force was the only way to make progress, Tim pulled me into a secluded corner of the villa. He leaned against the wall, legs casually crossed, arms folded as he studied me. “You’re actually into me, aren’t you?” “…” I figured he didn’t need my real answer, so I went with my gut. “No.” “Stop pretending,” he scoffed, his expression full of contempt. “It’s obvious you’re crazy about me.” I silently cursed him in my head. Narcissist. Tim continued, his voice dripping with arrogance, “I’d advise you not to get too attached. Because… well, you know. I hate you.” “Why?” “You don’t need to know,” he said, ever the tsundere king. “You just need to know that I hate you.” “…” What a psycho. I grumbled to the System, “Why does he hate me?” The System provided the answer: [At the freshman welcome dance, he asked you for the first dance, and you turned him down.] “That’s it?” I was floored by how petty he was. After a few seconds of frustration, another thought struck me. “Wait, I don’t remember that part being in the book!” The book only mentioned that Tim disliked the heroine but never explained why. [Correct. Now that he’s been promoted to the male lead, his character has been more fleshed out.] I muttered “psycho” again, this time aimed at the System. [I can hear you, you know~] I gave a tight, humorless smile. “I was saying it for you. What’s the point of cursing you if you can’t hear it?” […] The other psycho, Tim, was still on his high horse. “I hope you understand that our relationship is just an act. Outside of necessary public appearances, please maintain your distance.” I let out a dry laugh. “Is this a ‘necessary public appearance’?” “No,” he said. I turned to leave. “In that case,” I called over my shoulder, “I’ll start keeping my distance right now.” For the rest of the evening, I didn’t say another word to him. To any onlooker, it would have seemed like we were having a fight. But I was just deliberately provoking him. With a guy like Tim, who had a touch of a submissive streak, you had to give him the cold shoulder sometimes. Let him stew in it, get all worked up, and watch those affection points climb. By the time I’d turned down the seventh guy who tried to chat me up, Tim’s affection level had finally crept up to 27%. As if he couldn’t take it anymore, he marched over to me. “Let’s go. I’m taking you home.” I followed him without a word. I thought that would be the end of the affection gains for the night, but the real drama was just beginning. As we stepped out of the villa, a sleek, black Rolls-Royce pulled up on the sloped driveway. I assumed it was his and started to walk toward it. But then, the back door opened, and a man stepped out. He was impeccably dressed in a suit, his features sharp and cool, exuding an aura of refined elegance. He walked toward us with a steady, mature confidence. I recognized him instantly. He was the original male lead. Liam. He stopped under the lights, his gaze locking onto me. “Mia, come here.” I hesitated, about to take a step, when Tim’s hand suddenly shot out and gripped mine, squeezing tight. His voice was tense, coming from above my head, laced with command. “Mia, don’t you dare go!”

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My adopted brother, whom I’ve had a crush on forever, has always been cold to me. I thought he just wasn’t the smiling type. Until one night, I heard his raspy voice calling someone’s name: “Sisi.” Heartbroken, I packed up my pet snake and moved out. Suddenly, floating text comments appeared before my eyes: [Girl, you are killing me! He wasn’t calling a girl’s name! Snakes make a ‘hissing’ sound!] [The Male Lead is never going to hiss again. He’s probably trying to poison himself mute right now.] [Did you seriously not notice that your pet snake and your brother never appear at the same time?] 1 The day I moved out, a crack finally appeared in Liam’s icy facade. He frowned slightly, lifting his eyelids. “Why?” I avoided his gaze, flustered. “I graduated. I can support myself now. It’s not good to keep living at home.” I was adopted by the Landry family. This reason should be reasonable enough. I really couldn’t say the truth. Hearing him call someone else’s name made me feel sad and awkward. I just wanted to run away. Liam has always been a cold, self-restrained person. But that night, when he called “Sisi,” his voice was low and raspy. Like it was soaked in some deep emotion. Just thinking about it still shocks me. My suitcase was packed and sitting by the door. As expected, Liam didn’t ask me to stay. He just opened the door to his study, dropping one sentence: “Don’t forget to take your pet.” He was cold to me, and cold to my pet. He never visited my little snake, let alone touched it. Now, he couldn’t wait to kick it out too. I was heartbroken. I grabbed the snake, terrarium and all, and left alone. 2 The floating comments—like a livestream chat—appeared after I moved into my new apartment. I unpacked my stuff and collapsed on the sofa. My little white snake slowly crawled out of the open terrarium, climbing up my calf. Its cool scales pressed against my bare skin. Like always, I bent down and scooped it up. It climbed up my arm and settled on my shoulder. I started to suspect the mushrooms I fried for lunch weren’t fully cooked. Lines of text started popping up in front of my eyes. [Why did she move out?! My favorite trope of angsty tension under one roof is gone!] [Forget tension, the plot is about to hit the highway and you’re still driving a tricycle.] What are they babbling about? Highway? I just got my driver’s license; I’m not allowed on the highway yet. I looked down and started googling “What to do for mushroom poisoning.” I’ve heard of seeing little green men, but never floating text. While my mind wandered, I switched to WeChat and saw Liam pinned at the top. His profile picture was pure white. The messages stopped a day ago. Me: “Brother, I’m moving out.” Him (replying much later): “Okay.” So perfunctory. I got dumped before we even started dating. I buried my head in my knees, ready to cry my eyes out. I forgot the snake was still on my shoulder. It suddenly slipped into my collar, then stopped. Leaving a cold, slippery sensation. And… a snake tongue that didn’t retract in time. The snake seemed stunned too, freezing in place. My scalp tingled. I frantically fished it out. It still left a faint red mark. Emo mode paused. The text scrolled by rapidly. [Male Lead be like: Sorry, I type slow.] [Female Lead: Stop pretending.] [He wasn’t being perfunctory! You were playing with him at the time; he couldn’t free his hands. He typed that ‘Okay’ with his tail!] [Holy crap! Just joined the stream and it’s already this spicy.] [Liam must be in heaven.] I understood the words, and my face instantly turned red. Is this snake… Liam? He always wears gold-rimmed glasses. Is he a cobra? (Note: ‘Spectacled Cobra’ in Chinese/culture reference) Suspicion: Hallucinations from mushroom poisoning. 3 I put the snake back in the terrarium and wanted to text my best friend. To tell her I might be tripping on mushrooms. My finger swiped, and I saw the messages I sent her last time. Me: “It’s over. I have no chance.” “Liam seems to like someone!” “He even called her ‘Sisi’!” “Sob.” The comments seemed to be peeking at my screen. [Girl, you are killing me! He wasn’t calling a girl’s name! Snakes make a ‘hissing’ sound!] [The Male Lead is never going to hiss again. He’s probably trying to poison himself mute right now.] [Did you seriously not notice that your pet snake and your brother never appear at the same time?] Hey, didn’t I put on a privacy screen protector? I deleted the unsent text. I looked hesitantly at the terrarium by my feet. The white snake was wrapped around a grape vine, head raised, staring quietly at me. It and Liam… really never appeared together. [Question Xu Xian, Understand Xu Xian, Become Xu Xian.] (Reference to the Legend of the White Snake, a man who fell in love with a snake demon) [Try this, feed Liam some realgar wine. If he faints, he’s a snake. If not, he’s a snake demon.] I pursed my lips. I found Liam’s number in my contacts and dialed it. The white snake’s eyes seemed to widen. Then, its tail started rattling. I don’t know the principle behind it, but… I understood. I hung up. 4 That night, I was drawing on my tablet in my room. I actually received a message from Liam first. “Forgot to tell you.” “The snake cousin gave you back then… it’s a rattlesnake.” [Male Lead trying to cover his tracks.] [What rattlesnake rattles with a ringtone sound?] My cousin gave me the snake. In high school, I was stressed and randomly wanted a pet snake. My cousin heard and brought one over. “Home-bred. Different from the ones you buy.” “Long life span, smart, obedient, clingy. Great emotional support.” “Knows to find food when hungry, knows to come home when it rains.” It was true. It understood all my commands. It was clingy, often wrapping around my calf. It slept with me at night. I thought I found the perfect snake. Turns out it was my brother. …It feels really weird. My secret crush and my favorite pet merged into one. Whatever. I can pretend I don’t know. I put down my pen and tablet, opening the door. The white snake had crawled out of the terrarium at some point and was waiting at the door. I hesitated, then squatted and held out my hand. It climbed onto my shoulder and shook its tail. The tail made a shhh-shhh sound, clear as day. [Male Lead trying SO hard to prove he isn’t himself.] [He doesn’t dare let her find out he’s a pervert.] [That is a Western Diamondback Rattlesnake. In the US, they bite more people than any other snake…] Maybe beauty is in the eye of the beholder. I felt like this snake looked a lot more handsome now. It leaned in, nuzzling my cheek with its nose affectionately. Tentatively, its tongue flicked the corner of my mouth. Leaving a cold, wet sensation. My breath hitched. I took it off, put it outside the door, and locked it quickly. [Male Lead got rejected just like that. But a snake is kinda hard to accept.] [Only in novels. If I saw a snake that big in my house, I’d move out overnight and leave the deed to the snake.] I threw myself onto the bed, burying my head in the quilt. My face was burning. It took a while to calm down. I texted my best friend. “Can you understand Xu Xian?” The comments were shocked. [???] [So you’re shy, not rejecting him?]

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For my boyfriend’s mom’s birthday, I bought her a $600 Estée Lauder gift set. That same night, I found the exact set listed on eBay by my boyfriend for a fraction of the price. I bought it immediately. The moment it arrived, I confirmed receipt. Then I called my boyfriend. “Honey, did your mom try on the heavy gold bracelet inside the box? Does it fit?” 1 I was doom-scrolling eBay when a listing caught my eye. [Estée Lauder Gift Set. Brand new in box. Authentic. Urgent sale! Only $299!] That price was suspiciously low. Was it fake? I just bought this exact set yesterday at Sephora for nearly $600! Wait. The more I looked, the more familiar it seemed. That was the exact set I gave to Lucas’s mom. Even the gift bag was the one I picked out. And that ribbon? I tied that bow myself. I clicked on the seller’s profile. ID: Luke_Skywalker99 Location: Seattle, WA (Same as me) I opened the chat. Me: Hi, is this still available? Is it authentic? Why is it so cheap? Luke: Hey gorgeous! 100% real. It was a gift, hasn’t even been opened yet! He sent a voice message. That voice. It was undeniably my boyfriend of three months, Lucas. I scrolled through his other listings and felt my stomach drop. Everything valuable I’d given him over the last few months was listed there. Birthdays, holidays, his sister’s graduation… last week he wouldn’t shut up about his mom’s birthday coming up. Turns out, I wasn’t his girlfriend; I was his supplier. I wanted to confront him right there and dump him. But that would be too easy. I changed my shipping address to my neighbor’s house. I used my housekeeper, Mrs. Wong’s, name and number. Ensuring he wouldn’t suspect a thing, I clicked “Buy Now.” Luke: Wow, quick payment! Since we’re both in Seattle, I’ll send it via Uber Connect right now! Luke: Please confirm receipt as soon as you get it! I played along enthusiastically, eyes glued to the tracking. When the Uber arrived next door, Mrs. Wong was waiting. The gift set was back in my hands. Even though I knew, seeing it hurt like a punch to the gut. The ribbon was untouched. He hadn’t even bothered to look inside before selling it for quick cash. Luke: Hey, app says delivered! Can you release the funds? I kinda need the money ASAP. I recorded a video of the box and sent it. Me: Hi, I shook the box and heard a clinking sound. Do you think a bottle broke? In the video, I gently shook the box while playing a sound effect of breaking glass on my iPad. Lucas panicked. Three voice messages came through instantly, his voice high with anxiety. “It was perfect when I sent it! If it’s broken, that’s on you!” “You didn’t check it in front of the driver, so it’s your problem! Release the money now!” “Listen, lady, don’t try to scam me! Once it left my hands, it’s not my problem. Whether it’s broken glass or a gold bar inside, it has nothing to do with me!” Perfect. That’s exactly what I needed to hear. I confirmed receipt. The moment the money hit his account, I got a notification: “You have been blocked by this user.” Trash. He couldn’t wait to cut ties. Don’t worry, Lucas. In five minutes, you’ll be begging me on your knees. 2 I FaceTimed him. Lucas answered immediately, beaming. “Hey baby, miss me?” “You look happy,” I smiled. “Good news?” He paused for a second. “Just… reminiscing about childhood stuff at dinner. Good memories!” “How did your mom like the gift?” Lucas’s face stiffened. Behind him, his mom and sister smirked, rolling their eyes. “Uh… Emily, about that. Mom wasn’t really a fan.” “She’s never been into fancy creams and stuff. She’s not… high maintenance like you.” I cut him off. “Oh, if she doesn’t like it, bring it back! I’ll return it.” Lucas panicked. “No, no! You can’t take back a gift! She opened it already. Even though she hates this stuff, she respects you too much not to try it!” He glanced back at his mom for backup. She gave a fake, tight-lipped nod. I tried not to laugh at his terrible acting. Lucas continued, trying to steer the conversation. “Emily, maybe stop buying these impractical things. They cost a fortune and hold no value.” “If you ever need cash, you can’t resell this stuff for much… unlike…” “Unlike what?” I asked. His mom chimed in loudly from the back. “Unlike gold! Gold holds value! Much better than jars of cream!” Ah, I see. No wonder his mom’s face fell when she saw the skincare set today. She wanted something she could pawn. They were already hinting for next time. Well, why wait? “You’re so right, Auntie. Gold is the best.” “So… how does the gold bracelet fit? Do you like it?” 3 Lucas looked like he’d been electrocuted. “What?! What gold bracelet? You bought a bracelet?” I gave a playful smile. “Yeah. Didn’t Auntie open the box? She must have seen it.” Lucas turned pale. Sweat beaded on his forehead. Behind him, chaos erupted. His mom and sister started frantically pacing. I heard his mom hiss at his sister, Mia. “Why didn’t you check inside?! There was gold in there, you idiot!” “I wanted to open it to post on Instagram!” Mia whined. “You and Lucas screamed at me not to touch it so you could sell it faster! You said I wasn’t worth using expensive lotion!” Lucas shushed them aggressively. I pretended not to hear. “Honey? What’s wrong?” I dragged out the syllables, feigning concern. “Does she not like the style?” “I know it’s a bit chunky. I bought a heavy one—70 grams—because I wanted to show my respect.” “If it’s too tacky, I can take her to the jeweler tomorrow to exchange it. 70 grams of gold… we could melt it down into a necklace and earrings set instead…” Lucas interrupted me, his voice trembling. “Emily… you put a 70-gram gold bracelet inside the skincare box? Why didn’t you tell me? Where did you get that kind of money?” “I saved up my bonus! I just wanted to make a good impression.” Then, I gasped dramatically. “Wait… is it gone? Did you guys lose it?!” Dead silence on the other end. Finally, his mom stammered, “No… no, of course not! I just… missed it when I was putting on the cream!” I let out a huge sigh of relief. “Oh, thank god. That bracelet cost nearly $6,000 with the crafting fee! I would have died if it was lost.” I pulled out a receipt and flashed it at the camera. “See? $5,800 total.” I also sent him a photo I took at the jewelry store of the heavy, ornate bangle. “Isn’t it gorgeous? It’ll look so classy on Auntie.” Truth was, I did buy that bracelet. But it was for my own mother’s birthday next week. “Six… thousand…” Lucas muttered, looking like he was about to faint. His mom saw the receipt and pinched his arm hard. “Emily, I gotta go! We probably just overlooked it in the box!” He hung up before I could say bye. A second later, Mrs. Wong’s phone started blowing up. And my eBay notifications went wild. 4 Luke: Hi! Do you still have the Estée Lauder set? Please don’t open it! Luke: I’ll pay you double! No, triple! $800! I’ll transfer it now! Luke: Where are you? I’ll come pick it up! Please, I’m begging you! I tried not to laugh as I typed back. Me: I was just about to open it, but your messages keep popping up. He replied instantly. Luke: I was an idiot before! There’s something in the box! Something very important to my mom! Me: What is it? He paused for a long ten seconds. Luke: Just a cheap trinket my girlfriend put in there! Luke: It’s worthless, but sentimental! Luke: I’ll give you $1,000 for the box back! Luke: If she finds out I sold her gift, she’ll dump me! He kept emphasizing “worthless,” terrified the buyer would keep it if they knew it was gold. When I didn’t reply, he spiraled. Luke: Answer me! Luke: I have your address! I’m coming over! Luke: I’m calling the police! I sent him a screenshot of his own voice message: “Whether it’s broken glass or a gold bar inside, it has nothing to do with me!” Me: Police? For what? You sold a gift and now you want to take it back? The typing bubble appeared and disappeared for a full minute. Luke: I’m sorry. How much do you want? I looked at the skincare set on my table. Me: $2,500. I expected him to haggle. Luke: Deal. Send the link. Of course. $2,500 to get a $6,000 bracelet back? He still thinks he’s profiting $3,500. I recorded a video showing the sealed box and the intact ribbon, proving I hadn’t opened it. Then I called the same Uber Connect service. While waiting, I texted Lucas on iMessage. Me: Did Auntie try the bracelet yet? Me: Baby? Why aren’t you replying? He ignored me. I tipped the Uber driver $50 to record the handoff. I told him not to give the package until the guy confirmed the order was complete on his phone. Lucas agreed instantly. He was desperate. Thirty minutes later, the app said “Delivered.” Lucas texted me immediately on iMessage. Lucas: Baby! Mom loves it! She says it’s the most beautiful bracelet she’s ever seen!

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1 The third time Damien and I stood before the courthouse, it was because he’d given my top spot as Metro News Network’s lead weather anchor to the new girl. He leaned against his car, lighting a cigarette, his handsome features twisted with impatience. “Is all this drama really necessary? She takes your spot, you get a nice long break at home. What’s the problem?” He took a drag, smoke curling from his lips. “Besides, I just gave her the position to keep her happy for a bit. Can’t you just suck it up for my sake?” I stared straight ahead, my voice a flat, emotionless thing. “Let’s go inside.” That night, I saw Damien with his arm around the new girl, laughing with his friends. “Hey, what if Clara actually goes through with the divorce this time?” someone asked. Damien scoffed and took a swig of his drink. “She loves me too much. She’d never do it for real.” It wasn’t until he saw me in the backseat of someone else’s wedding limousine that the slow, dawning horror hit him: I wasn’t playing games anymore. … Walking out of the courthouse, Damien shoved the divorce decree and other legal papers into my arms. “There. Happy now?” he asked, a smirk playing on his lips as he lit another cigarette, his eyes raking over me. I carefully folded my copy of the papers, tucked them into my purse, and then slapped his copy against his chest. I didn’t say a word, just turned to get in my car. Before I could open the door, his hand shot out, grabbing my wrist. He slammed me against the car, trapping me. That sickly sweet rose perfume—the one he wore for her—filled my lungs, making me want to gag. Damien’s grip was like iron, his eyes blazing with a barely controlled fire. He spoke through gritted teeth. “It’s just a job! You’re giving me this attitude over a stupid job?” “I already told you, I’m just letting her play anchor for a few days to keep her happy! Once she gets bored of it, you’ll get it back!” “Do you have to drag me to the courthouse threatening divorce over every little thing?” “Clara, have you lost count of how many times you’ve pulled this? I have my limits, you know!” Our breaths mingled in the cold air, and a bitter laugh escaped my lips. “Damien, you have the audacity to talk to me about limits?” We were childhood sweethearts, married for six years. A week ago, Damien had brought Rachel into our home. Without a word, he got on the phone with the station director, right in front of me. He announced a two-million-dollar investment in the network, with one condition. He glanced at Rachel, who was beaming with anticipation, before his heavy gaze landed on me. His words, spoken with deliberate, cruel precision, sent a shard of ice through my heart. “The condition is, Clara’s out. Rachel takes her place.” He met my look of utter disbelief and sealed my fate. His bodyguards held me down, clamping a hand over my mouth to stifle my protests. “Yeah, she knows,” he said into the phone. “She’s fine with it.” “Great. I’ll have Rachel come in tomorrow to get started. You can show her the ropes.” That day, I screamed at him. I broke everything I could get my hands on in our house. I slapped both him and Rachel across the face. “Damien! What gives you the right to make my decisions for me? I never said I wanted to quit my job!” “The right? I’m your husband! That’s my right! And this is final!” he’d roared back. “You’re out, Rachel’s in! You get to relax, she gets to try something new. It’s a win-win, isn’t it?” I screamed at them to get out. Damien wrapped a protective arm around Rachel, glaring at me with contempt. “You’re insane,” he spat. No one knows what I went through that week. Fearing I’d go to the station and cause a scene, Damien locked me in our villa. I spent my days and nights in our room, trapped in a cycle of weeping and hollow laughter. I had spent six years clawing my way up to become the lead weather anchor, the most beloved and trusted face at the network. Damien knew exactly how much I’d sacrificed for that position, how much that job meant to me. But he didn’t care. Or rather, for Rachel, sacrificing my reputation and my career was a small price to pay. After all, for Rachel’s sake, he’d once been willing to sacrifice his own child. The memory brought a fresh sting to my eyes. My tears seemed to startle him for a second, and in that moment of hesitation, I slapped him with all the strength I had left. “You don’t get to talk to me about limits!” I screamed, my voice raw. “Damien, listen to yourself! What do you mean, ‘when Rachel gets bored of it’? You sound like you’re offering me scraps! Do I need your charity? I earned that position myself!” “One slap and then a piece of candy to make it better. That’s always been your style, hasn’t it, Damien!” I shoved him away and pulled a gift bag from my car, throwing it at his feet. It was the expensive handbag he’d bought to “compensate” for my job. I hadn’t even opened it. We parted in anger. Our two cars, which once drove side-by-side, now sped off in opposite directions. Just like our marriage, an arrangement by our families, had finally shattered after years of loving and fighting. That evening, a text from Rachel summoned me to a private lounge. Through a crack in the door, I saw Damien, his arm draped around her on the central sofa, holding court with his friends. “Hey, what if Clara actually goes through with the divorce this time?” Damien just scoffed. “She loves me too much. She’d never do it for real.” From across the room, Rachel shot me a smug, triumphant glare, a silent warning to just sign the papers and disappear. I turned and walked away. Damien didn’t come home for two weeks. I didn’t care. A persistent drizzle seemed to have settled over the city. On TV, Rachel, in a smart blazer and skirt, her hair perfectly styled, was delivering the forecast in a stiff, robotic tone. “Over the next few days, a cold front will cause a significant drop in temperatures across the country. For example, in the Northeast…” Her smile was plastered on, looking unnatural. She stumbled over the more complex meteorological terms, her delivery faltering. That’s when Damien walked in. He brought the damp chill of the rain with him. He tossed a towel at me and then leaned in close, expecting me to dry his hair for him. I looked down, unmoving. Rainwater dripped from his hair onto my silk nightgown, staining the fabric dark. Seeing my expression, Damien’s mouth opened, then closed. He snatched the towel and started drying his own hair. His eyes caught the TV, and a proud grin spread across his face. “That’s Rachel’s first official broadcast. What do you think? Not bad, right?” The pride in his voice was thick and undisguised. I had no energy to play along. I simply got up and went to the bedroom. Damien followed, his gaze falling on the damp spot on my thigh. A flicker of desire ignited in his eyes. Before I could react, he pushed me onto the bed, his mouth covering mine, his kisses frantic and sloppy. “Clara… it’s been so long. Don’t you miss me?” A humorless laugh bubbled up inside me. The image of him and Rachel tangled together on the living room sofa flashed in my mind, and a wave of nausea rose in my throat. I tried to push him off, but he pinned my wrists behind my back. Our eyes locked, and I decided to wound him. “What’s wrong? Rachel’s at the office now, so there’s no one to get you off?” He was busy unbuttoning his shirt, and he just raised an eyebrow. “Why would that be a problem? I still have you, don’t I?” I never imagined he would sink this low just to spite me. As his hot breath washed over my face, I couldn’t hold it back any longer. I gagged, a dry, retching sound. Damien recoiled as if he’d been burned, his face a mask of disgust and fury. When my heaving subsided, he grabbed my face, his fingers digging into my cheeks. “You find me that repulsive? I thought you loved me. What, you can’t even pretend anymore?” A tear escaped and trailed down my cheek. He flinched and let go as if my tear was acid. I managed a small, tired smile, my heart feeling strangely calm. “I don’t love you anymore, Damien. A cheating man is like rotten food. Disgusting and foul.” His face paled. He opened his mouth to argue, but seeing the genuine sickness in my expression, he snapped it shut. “Don’t talk nonsense! God, I must owe you something in a past life! What a buzzkill!” With that, he grabbed a change of clothes and stormed into the bathroom. Fighting the bile in my throat, I went to the kitchen and downed a glass of water. The tears I’d been holding back finally broke free, blurring my vision. Damien was right. He did owe me. The weather forecast had ended. Outside, the rain was coming down harder, drumming a relentless rhythm against the windows. My phone buzzed. It was a string of texts from Rachel. She sent me screenshots of large money transfers from Damien, peppered with his complaints about me. “I can’t stand her anymore. That long face all day, like I owe her the world.” “She has zero passion! Every time things get good, she pours cold water on it. It’s boring!” “Are you off work yet? Get changed. I’m coming over.” Then, a voice message. Rachel’s voice, sickly sweet and mocking. “Did you watch my show, Clara? It was my big debut! Damien said I was so much better than you! He sent me five hundred thousand dollars to go shopping for luxury bags!” “Oh, and Damien told me you’re all upset about losing your job? I just wanted to tell you not to be so angry, sister. Stress causes wrinkles! And you’re already twenty-six… you can’t compete with a twenty-year-old girl like me.” I closed my eyes. I was used to Rachel’s provocations. But this time, I was done enduring. I opened my eyes and pulled up the chat with my brother, Liam. A year ago, he had sent me an application for an internal transfer to a lead position at NBN, the national network. But back then, I still wanted to give my marriage one last chance, so I’d turned him down. Now, that hope was gone. Utterly extinguished. I had given Damien and me three chances. My job, my child, my dignity. He had taken them all. My love for him had been bled dry. I typed: “Brother, that application you sent me last year… is it too late to submit it?” He replied almost instantly. “It’s not too late.” A pause, then: “Have you… figured things out?” I wiped the tears from my face. “Yes. I’ve figured it out.” “…And that other thing I asked you about… have you thought about it?” I held my breath. After a long moment, I heard my own voice, barely a whisper as I typed the words. “Yes. I’ve thought about it… and I accept… Liam.” Though Liam was adopted, our father, before he passed, had always hoped he would become his son-in-law. I knew if my parents were still alive, they would approve of my decision. As for Damien and me, it was time to cut the cord. Our love, our marriage—it all ends here. When Damien came out of the shower, he didn’t say a word. He just grabbed his coat and left. He moved in with Rachel after that, and for the next ten days, she bombarded me with photos of their happy life together. On the day the divorce was to be finalized, I didn’t show up. I was on a plane, and I fell asleep and dreamt. I dreamt of a time before everything soured between us. Our marriage may have been arranged by our families, but for the first three years, we were good to each other. We respected one another. And the most important thing was, I loved him. We grew up together. From the moment I understood what a crush was, it was him. That was why I never fought the arranged marriage. Damien, on the other hand, had resisted fiercely. He’d pleaded with me to join him in refusing the union. But out of my own selfish love, I hadn’t. Then, one day, he just… accepted it. In the beginning, our marriage was polite, like two roommates sharing a life. But over time, I started to believe he was falling for me, too. He’d bring me little surprises every day—a bouquet of flowers, my favorite dessert. He’d hold me tight every night as we fell asleep. I remember once, someone left a comment on the station’s website asking for my contact information. Damien was so consumed with jealousy he kept me in bed for an entire week. He clung to me like a lost puppy, begging me not to look at any other man. He even carried me to the bathroom. That was the fourth year of our marriage. Then, I heard from our families that his first love, his high school sweetheart, had gotten married and had a child. And that’s when Rachel appeared. She had the same innocent, pure look as his first love. It was around that time that Damien found the notes app on my phone. It was filled with years of my secret feelings for him, from my teenage diary entries to my thoughts after we were married. And Damien… he snapped. He became convinced that I had conspired with our families to drive his first love away. The truth was, I never even knew he had a girlfriend. I had no idea he was in love with someone else. But he wouldn’t listen. From that day on, he made it his mission to hurt me. The first year Rachel was in the picture, she was exposed as a homewrecker. The scandal was everywhere. Despite photos, videos, irrefutable proof, Damien forced me to go on record and clear her name. Because of that, the public labeled me a “doormat,” a “pathetic wife.” The ratings for my segments plummeted. The second year, by some accident, I got pregnant. Rachel threw tantrums, staged dramatic goodbyes. Damien’s heart softened. It reminded him of being forced to leave his first love. In a moment of cruel vengeance, he forced me to take pills that would induce a miscarriage. My health was already fragile; the doctor had told me the pregnancy was high-risk. The potent dose sent my body into shock. I was bleeding uncontrollably. Damien just stood there, watching the life drain out of me, a crimson flower blooming on the floor beneath me. His voice was laced with poison. “Does it hurt? When she and I were forced apart, it hurt a thousand times more than this! A million times!” “You’re such a good actress, Clara. No wonder you never fought the marriage.” “You’re pathetic. You owe me this. Now suffer.” I passed out from the pain. Only then did he show a sliver of mercy and take me to the hospital. The doctor said if he’d waited any longer, I would have died. And the third year, this year, he took my job. … I didn’t see the two missed calls until I landed that night. They were from Damien. I opened his voice message, and a sneering, sarcastic voice filled the air.

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My mother picked two potential marriage candidates for my brother and me. One was a wealthy socialite from a prominent family, her eyes always following my brother. The other, left for me, was the daughter of a scholarly family. She was in a wheelchair, blind. I didn’t look down on her because of it. Instead, I took her to the best doctors I could find. I spent all my savings and worked tirelessly to support her. Every doctor said there was nothing physically wrong with her legs; it might be psychological. So I took her to the seaside to feel the breeze. I took her to see rivers, mountains, and flowers blooming in spring. Until my brother and I were kidnapped. When the kidnapper’s knife was about to pierce my brother’s chest, she sprinted over and yanked me directly in front of him. I watched helplessly as the blade pierced my heart. As countless bodyguards rushed in calling her “Miss,” I finally realized the truth. She wasn’t crippled. She wasn’t blind. She wasn’t from some modest scholarly family. She just didn’t want to stand by my side. She didn’t want to see me. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “My family is the richest in the city. My father wanted me to feign illness to test for true love.” “You passed the test, but I couldn’t fall in love with you. Even if Ryan didn’t choose me, I couldn’t let him die.” “I owe you. I’ll repay you in the next life.” When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my mother chose our brides. 1 In the living room, Mom was smiling, entertaining two women. One was Fiona, sitting in a wheelchair. The other was Hannah, dressed in luxury brands. Just like in my previous life, my brother Ryan’s eyes were glued to Hannah. My younger brother, Lucas, who always enjoyed watching the drama, noticed my pale face and started teasing. “Is this even a choice? Big brother dresses so tacky, he’s a perfect match for the blind girl.” “Ryan has always been the school heartthrob. We can’t let him go to waste on a cripple.” I clenched my fists. “So you think your big brother, who paid for your food and drinks, deserves to be wasted on someone?” “Don’t forget how you survived until now!” Ryan and Lucas were twins, three years younger than me. Since childhood, our parents instilled one thought in me: as the eldest brother, I had to be like a father, caring for my brothers and supporting the family. So, any good food went to them first. New clothes went to them. Even when Lucas needed a kidney transplant, I was the donor. Now Lucas wanted to marry a rich girl but couldn’t afford the dowry. Mom shamelessly contacted the Fu and Han families, whom we hadn’t spoken to in over a decade, demanding they honor an old engagement promise made by the elders. They planned to use the dowry money Ryan and I received to pay for Lucas’s wedding. Since I was reborn, I had nothing to lose. “I choose Hannah. Or I won’t marry!” Everyone froze. Ryan turned red with anxiety. I had never spoken so forcefully in this house, nor had I ever fought for anything he wanted. He immediately looked at Hannah for help. Hannah got the message, sitting next to Ryan and leaning into his arms. “Ryan and I fell in love at first sight. I trust that as his big brother, you wouldn’t break us apart, right?” Ryan held her hand tightly, eyes teary. “You know I can’t take care of people. I can’t live with Fiona. If her condition worsens, I’ll feel guilty. Brother, you studied Chinese medicine with Grandpa. If you marry her and cure her, it would be a good deed.” I glanced at the silent Fiona, a smirk forming on my lips. “So you’ve decided on Hannah, right?” He nodded. Dad quickly hammered the final nail. “Alright, it’s settled then.” But the next second, Fiona moved. She lifted her pale hand, removed her sunglasses, revealing bright, clear eyes. Then, she stood up from her wheelchair. She walked past me straight to Ryan, smiling. “You don’t need to worry about taking care of me. I was just joking with everyone earlier. Although I’m not from Seaview City, my father is the richest man in Rivertown. If you marry me, you’ll live very well.” “Ryan, can you give me a chance to pursue you?” I sneered internally. So she was reborn too. That made things easier. 2 While everyone was shocked by the turn of events, I spoke up. “Dad, since that’s the case, I’m not marrying anyone. As for how much dowry you can get from them, that’s up to your skills.” Dad looked awkward. One was the son of the richest man in Rivertown, the other from a prominent family in Seaview City. He couldn’t afford to offend either. And just then, Hannah’s competitive streak kicked in. She stood up, meeting Fiona’s gaze. “A gentleman doesn’t steal what others love. Do you understand that?” Fiona didn’t back down. “Who he loves is up to Ryan to decide, isn’t it?” Then she smiled beautifully, looking at Ryan with utmost tenderness. “Do you remember when we were kids in Seaview City? My grandfather set up a chess game under a tree. You solved it in less than an hour. You were the only one.” “I was amazed by your wisdom back then and swore I wouldn’t marry anyone but you.” “Don’t feel pressured. I’ll compete fairly with Hannah. Whoever you choose in the end, I’ll respect it.” In my past life, I died not knowing why she loved Ryan so deeply. Hearing it now, I just found it laughable. I was the one who solved that chess game. I couldn’t blame her for the mistake. Back then, I was malnourished, giving all my food to my brothers. I wasn’t even as tall as Ryan. But I was too lazy to reveal the truth. It was boring. Seeing Ryan nod, Hannah looked displeased but agreed. From now on, it wasn’t a battle for a boyfriend, but a battle between the prominent families of Rivertown and Seaview City. Seeing enough of the drama, I got up to go to my room, but Dad stopped me. “Where are you going?” “Oh, I’m leaving this house to find Grandpa.” “You’re not going anywhere! If you leave, who will they marry?” I scoffed. “Dad, do you want both rich daughters-in-law? If it really doesn’t work out, why don’t you marry one? I don’t pick up other people’s leftovers.” I went to my room to pack. Grandpa had cut ties with our family long ago. Twenty years ago, my mom, greedy for money, boasted that Grandpa could bring the dead back to life and insisted on bringing a corpse for treatment. She almost ruined his reputation. Grandpa kicked her out and severed all ties. Only after I grew up did I sneak out to visit him. I had a talent for Chinese medicine. In my past life, I could have inherited Grandpa’s legacy. But because I married Fiona, I had to give it up. I was exhausted working multiple jobs to pay for her medical bills and save up to take her traveling. So this time, I was going to live for myself. 3 After packing, I ran to the community gate to hail a taxi. But Fiona blocked my way, standing right in front of me. This was the first time I stood next to her standing up. She was tall, her appearance perfect. Too bad her heart was rotten. “Liam, you were reborn too, right?” I met her gaze, neither humble nor arrogant. “Yes. I remember every cold look you gave me, every lie you told me, and the pain of that knife piercing my heart!” She sighed slightly. “I’m sorry.” “Save your cheap apologies! I will never forgive you! Move, get out of my way.” Suddenly, her hand clamped onto my arm like a vise. “You can’t leave.” The next second, two bodyguards dragged me into a car. I was taken to a villa, heavily guarded. “Fiona, what the hell are you doing! I’m not interfering with you and Ryan, why are you keeping me here!” “Liam, in my last life I said I would compensate you. If he doesn’t choose me this time, I’ll marry you and ensure you live in luxury for the rest of your life.” I scoffed. “And if he chooses you?” “Then I’ll give you a sum of money and let you go. For now, I need you to help me pursue him. Tell me everything he likes.” “Tell me what he likes to eat first. I invited him here for dinner. I’m going to cook.” Even though I was filled with hate, seeing how much she cared about Ryan still hurt. I bit my lip, refusing to speak, but her nails dug deep into my flesh. I winced and spoke. “Expensive. The more expensive, the better!” While she was in the kitchen, I looked around the house, thinking of a way to escape. Soon, the doorbell rang. Ryan stood there in a decent casual suit, looking boyish. Fiona welcomed him with a smile. He thanked her in a pinched voice, then saw me standing there. “Why are you here!” Fiona quickly explained for me. “He’s here to help me pursue you. I figured your brother would know your preferences.” Although his eyes were full of disgust, he had to pretend to be moved. “Fiona, you’re so thoughtful.” After sitting down, I unceremoniously devoured the airlifted lobster and king crab. Ryan, however, kept checking his phone. Soon, it rang urgently. “Hello Mom, don’t panic, what happened?” “What? I’ll be right there.” After hanging up, he suddenly knelt before me. “Brother, Lucas needs a kidney transplant. Help him, please. You can’t watch him die.” My mind went blank. I remembered clearly that after the last surgery, the doctor said Lucas recovered very well and wouldn’t relapse. “You’re a match too. Why don’t you donate?” But Ryan acted like he didn’t hear me, kowtowing repeatedly. “Brother, please, save him.” Fiona pulled him up heartache, hugging him. Then she glared at me. “You are so selfish!” She dragged Ryan away, not forgetting to order the bodyguards to watch me closely. 4 I was locked in a room on the third floor. Pounding on the door was useless. I found a trophy and smashed the window without hesitation. Looking down from the third floor, my legs went weak. I closed my eyes and jumped. But luck wasn’t on my side. I hit the ground hard, breaking my ribs. The pain was suffocating. Fiona walked over. I instinctively begged for help. “Send… send me to the hospital.” But her voice was freezing. “You’re not going anywhere. Wait here to donate your kidney to your brother.” I looked at her in disbelief, tears falling uncontrollably. “I only have one kidney left. If I give it to him, I’ll die.” “Yes, I know.” My heart turned completely cold. “This is your compensation to me?” “I’m sorry. I don’t want to see Ryan sad. Consider it another debt I owe you.” I lay in bed for days. My injuries healed slowly, but my life was counting down. Waiting for death filled me with despair. Five days later, Ryan walked into my room alone. Seeing me strapped to the bed, he laughed loudly. “Brother, since you’re dying, I’ll tell you. The person who needs the kidney is the guy Lucas hit with his car. Coincidentally, he’s a match with you.” Tears streamed down my face. “I’ve been good to you since we were kids. Why are you doing this to me?” He glared at me viciously. “Blame Fiona. If she were really crippled, I would have let you have her. But she’s not, so I want both!” I closed my eyes in sorrow. He untied me. I stood up and followed him slowly. When we reached the door, I suddenly shoved him out with all my strength and locked the door. I picked up the gasoline I had prepared by the bed, splashed it on the floor, and lit a match. Ryan pounded on the door frantically. “What are you doing? You can’t die! I’m calling Fiona right now!” My indifferent voice came from inside. “I’ve already called the police. If you don’t want Fiona to know you two conspired to trick her, you better pray I burn to death!” Sure enough, the noise outside stopped immediately. I stood in the dancing flames, laughing at the sky. Finally, I’m free. Goodbye, world that was never kind to me.

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I was on a business trip in New York City, unable to sleep. Scrolling through Reddit in my hotel bed, I stumbled upon a bizarre post: [True Crime Deep Dive: On the night of July 30, 2025, at 10:30 PM, the heiress to the W Group fortune was brutally beheaded while on a business trip in NYC. Her head was found in the hotel mini-fridge. The killer was her late father’s illegitimate son, who posed as a delivery driver to gain entry.] I paused. I am the heiress of the W Group. I am currently on a business trip in NYC. But my dad didn’t have an illegitimate son. And today is July 30th. But it’s only 10:00 PM right now. How could I be reading a news report about a murder that happens thirty minutes in the future? I figured it was just a sick prank by some bored internet troll. But when I got up to grab a water, I froze. The interior of the hotel mini-fridge was identical to the crime scene photo in the post. And the spot where the severed head was placed in the photo… was currently empty in my fridge. Just then, the doorbell rang. “Delivery!” 1 My heart skipped a beat. I immediately dialed my security team. First off, I haven’t eaten takeout in years. When I travel, I book the Presidential Suite. All my meals are prepared by the hotel. Even if I ordered delivery, hotel staff would bring it up. No delivery driver is allowed on this floor. I suddenly remembered the Reddit post. It was absurd, impossible to believe. But the people, the time, the location… everything matched. Was this really a death notice? When I didn’t answer, the pounding on the door got louder. Bang! Bang! Bang! “Hello? Delivery! Come get your food!” The voice was raspy, sounding like a middle-aged man. Remembering the post said the killer was my father’s illegitimate son, I relaxed slightly. This guy sounded old enough to be my dad’s contemporary, not his son. Luckily, my security team was staying on a lower floor. They’d be here in minutes. I calmed myself down. The knocking continued, sparking my curiosity. I walked softly to the heavy door. But the moment I got close, the knocking stopped. Dead silence outside. I held my breath and peered through the peephole. The hallway was empty. But the next second— Bang! Bang! Two massive thuds against the door. Then! A face shot up from below, filling the entire peephole! The skin was wrinkled and greasy, a thick double chin spilling over the collar of a delivery uniform. Cloudy eyes stared dead at me through the glass. His mouth slowly, stiffly stretched into a grotesque grin. Bang! Bang! He hit the door again, harder this time. It was like he knew I was right there. I stumbled back, nearly falling. Just as I thought he would break the door down, his voice changed. It became soft, almost a whisper. “Delivery for you… I’ll just leave it here.” Footsteps retreated. Tap tap tap tap… Fading down the hallway. Did he leave? My security team arrived shortly after. Seeing the line of burly men in black suits guarding my door, I finally exhaled. But I was furious. How could a 5-star hotel have such lax security? I called the front desk immediately. After checking the surveillance, the receptionist sounded confused. “Ms. Chen… we apologize for the disturbance. But we’ve checked all camera feeds for the elevators, hallways, and stairwells leading to the Presidential floor for the last thirty minutes… There is no record of anyone in a delivery uniform entering the area. The only people on the footage are your security team.” She paused, her voice trembling slightly. “And… there is no footage of the ‘delivery driver’ leaving, either…” Buzz— A chill shot from my feet to my skull. Not on camera? Didn’t go up, didn’t come down? That meant the “delivery driver” had been hiding on this floor the entire time! Unease settled in my gut. I called the police immediately. With my elite security team—all national martial arts champions—outside, I felt safe enough to wait for the cops. Sweating from the stress, I went to the bathroom to wash my face. Back on the sofa, I opened my phone. The Reddit post was at the top of my feed again. This time, I looked closer. Posted: July 30, 2035, 22:45 Ten years in the future?! How is that possible? I refreshed the page. The date remained 2035. Every other post on my feed had normal dates. I read the entire post. The murder case went cold for ten years. The illegitimate son inherited the family empire, liquidated everything within a few years, and fled the country with billions. The police never found him. My mother, the legitimate wife, was committed to a mental asylum by the son, claiming she lost her mind from grief. She committed suicide six months later. A sense of dread washed over me. I scrolled to the comments. The top comments made my heart stop: “OP got it wrong. The son didn’t disguise himself as the driver. The driver was just a distraction he hired.” “Exactly. She’s a billionaire heiress in a Presidential Suite with bodyguards. A delivery guy couldn’t get close.” “The real killer was hiding inside the hotel room.” Inside the hotel room… Inside the hotel room! Those words sucked the warmth from my body. I froze. My eyes darted to the time on my phone screen. 22:29 The post said the murder happened at 22:30. Before I could even process the thought— Thud! A dull, heavy blow struck the back of my head! Warm, sticky liquid, smelling of rust, poured down my face and neck. Then I felt the cold slice of a blade against my throat. With the last of my strength, I tried to turn my head, to see the face behind me. But a hand like an iron clamp held my head down, covering my mouth and nose. The post was real. The victim was me. I collapsed in a pool of blood, eyes closing in helpless rage. 2 I opened my eyes. I was back in the hotel bed. The phantom pain in my head and neck lingered, but there was no blood. I looked at my phone. The Reddit post was on the screen. Time: 10:00 PM. I was reborn! Back to thirty minutes before the murder! I scanned the room nervously. The killer was hiding in here, right now. I forced myself to stay calm. Knowing the killer was inside, I texted my security team and 911 instead of calling. Almost immediately after I sent the texts, the doorbell rang. “Delivery!” The raspy voice called out. Knowing he was just a distraction, I wanted to ignore him. But to put on a show for the killer inside, I yelled, “Wrong room! I didn’t order anything!” Then I put on headphones, pretending to ignore the knocking, while my eyes frantically scanned the room—curtains, closet, bathroom… Where was he hiding? The knocking stopped. The footsteps faded. My bodyguards arrived on time. The timeline matched my previous life. I lunged for the door, throwing myself into the center of the protective circle of bodyguards. As we rushed out, I thought I heard a faint rustling sound from inside the room. I glanced back. In a dark corner of the living room, I felt an intense gaze burning into me. “Go! Move!” I ordered, terrified to look closer. We crowded into the elevator, then into my stretch limo. The door slammed shut. We drove away from the hotel. Safe? I checked my phone. I opened Reddit. The post was at the top again. I scrolled to the comments. My heart stopped. New comments had appeared: “The heiress was smart, but she still died.” “She thought she escaped once she got in the car…” “Too bad she still died…” A bone-deep chill seized me. I forced myself to turn around and look at the people in the car. One, two, three… six, seven. Seven people. My security team only has six members. Everyone was wearing black suits and sunglasses. I tried to find an unfamiliar face. But strangely, all seven faces looked familiar. How is this possible? I forced myself to think. “Stop the car,” I said, voice steady. “Everyone except Leo gets out. Go back to the hotel and help the police catch the fake delivery guy.” Leo was my personal bodyguard, assigned by my parents ten years ago. He was the only one I trusted completely. The car door opened. Six bodyguards got out and ran back toward the hotel. They looked normal, except one. As he ran, he glanced back at the car with a weird expression. Not looking at me. Looking at the car. I didn’t have time to analyze it. I told Leo to drive. “Head to the nearest police station. Fast.” I slumped in the seat, soaked in cold sweat. Just me and Leo now. The car moved smoothly. Safe… for now? I checked the time: 22:28 Two minutes left! I leaned back, trying to slow my heart rate. Leo was focused on driving. My reflection in the window was pale. Just as I started to relax— A puff of cold air blew against my right ear! My pupils dilated. There’s someone else in the car! Before I could move, a hand shot out from behind the seat, gripping my throat! Another hand, wielding a knife, stabbed into the left side of my neck! Squelch! Pain exploded! Blood sprayed! He was too fast. Even Leo couldn’t react in time. My vision turned red. I saw Leo turn around, his face twisted in horror. My phone slipped from my hand. Screen on: 22:30 10:30 PM. again. There was only one other person in the car besides me. Leo didn’t do it. Who was the second person? How did they get in? Darkness swallowed me. 3 I woke up in the hotel room again. Time: 10:00 PM. I checked the Reddit post. The title had changed: [True Crime Update: On July 30, 2025, at 10:30 PM, the W Group heiress was beheaded in NYC. Her head was found under the East River Bridge. The killer was her father’s illegitimate son.] It changed. The East River Bridge was on the route I took in my second life. So the future can be changed! I texted the police and called only Leo up to the room. In the last life, I saw Leo didn’t attack me. He was safe. I ignored the delivery guy again. When Leo arrived, I bolted out the door, dragging him to the private elevator. In the garage, I chose the smallest sedan instead of the limo. I made Leo check the entire car with a flashlight—undercarriage, tires, trunk, back seat. “Ms. Chen, exterior is clear. Interior is clear. Safe!” I relaxed a little. This car was tiny. Nowhere to hide. “Drive! Police station!” I jumped into the passenger seat. Leo drove. The car merged into traffic. Silence inside. I stared at the back seat, paranoia eating at me. Leo drove carefully, checking the mirrors. I checked my phone. The Reddit post was gone. I smiled. Did I finally escape? Time: 22:28 22:29 The police station was just ahead! Red light! The car stopped. As the countdown hit 3, and Leo prepared to accelerate— A hot breath blew against the back of my neck. A low, male chuckle sounded right behind my ear. My hair stood on end! My heart stopped! Impossible! Only me and Leo! And Leo is driving! The next second, a pair of cold hands shot out from the gap between the headrest and the seat back! They locked around my throat! “Urgh!” Suffocation hit me instantly. I saw Leo react, unbuckling his seatbelt and lunging toward the back seat. Too late. The knife went in. As my consciousness faded, my phone screen lit up. The Reddit post was back. Comments refreshing rapidly: “She was smart this time, but still died.” “So sad. The killer only wanted to behead her, but she ran, so he got mad and chopped her into a thousand pieces.” … 4 Hotel room. 10:00 PM. I looked at the phone. Title changed again: [Heiress dismembered and scattered.] The comments were right. Running angered him. My body ached. My eyelids were heavy. Each rebirth drained me more. Despair washed over me. I tried everything. I still died. Was the killer a ghost? But the post said “illegitimate son.” A human. How does he do it? Screw it! If I can loop, I’m going big! I texted the police. When the team arrived, I marched everyone to the hotel lobby. I asked the front desk to call every guest. “Anyone who comes to the lobby and livestreams me right now gets $10,000 cash. If you stream all night, another $10,000.” People flooded the lobby. A cleaning lady scoffed. “Yeah right, little girl.” I Venmo’d her $5,000 on the spot. “Whoa!” The crowd went wild. Phones went up. Flashlights on. I started giving an impromptu business lecture, my eyes scanning the crowd like radar. 22:15… 22:28… 22:30! Heart pounding! I survived 10:30! The killer couldn’t act with so many cameras. The police arrived. This was the first time I lived long enough to see them. I told them about the fake delivery guy upstairs. Soon, they brought down the greasy middle-aged man in handcuffs. The crowd parted. As he passed me, he looked up. His cloudy eyes locked onto mine, lips curling into a mocking smile. Like he was looking at a dead woman. I felt sick. So I didn’t relax. I stayed in the lobby, under the cameras, until dawn. I paid everyone. Exhausted, I couldn’t stay. “Police station,” I told Leo. But I was traumatized by cars. So we took the bus. First bus of the morning. Empty. We sat in the back. Watching the city wake up, I finally relaxed. The bus stopped at the station near the precinct. I got up, walking to the rear door with Leo. It was quiet. The moment my foot touched the sidewalk— Slash! Familiar pain! A blade sliced my throat open! The world tilted red. Screams erupted. With my last ounce of strength, I turned my head. I saw a hand with a crescent-shaped scar. Leo stood next to me, looking behind me in horror. As he lunged, I blacked out.

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Three years after walking out of the iron gates, I ran into Lucas at a high-end patisserie. He was there, dripping wet from the rain, picking up a custom cake for his pregnant wife. I was there to pick up a DoorDash order. The shock of seeing each other froze us both for a second. But love and hate had long since burned to ash. I broke the silence first. He asked how I was doing. I told him everything was fine. We stood there, strangers with a lifetime of history. Just as I turned to leave, his voice stopped me. “Scarlett, if things get hard… you can always call me.” My delivery app pinged, a harsh reminder of reality. I stepped forward to hassle the barista for the order, ignoring him completely. Life’s hardships were just the price I paid to keep my belly full. But getting close to him? That would bring a hell I could no longer survive. I was scared. I was tired. And I had stopped loving him a long time ago. 1 The barista was frantically packing the order. All I cared about was grabbing the bag and beating the delivery timer. Lucas seemed to sense that I had no desire to speak, so he stayed silent. That is, until the clerk handed him a pristine, ribbon-wrapped box. Her voice dripped with envy. “Mr. McKenzie, I truly envy your wife. Driving across the city in this storm just to get her favorite cake?” Lucas took the box, a soft, indulgent smile playing on his lips. “My wife… her cravings have been impossible since she got pregnant. She only eats from here.” I pretended not to hear. My order slid across the counter. I grabbed it and bolted out the door. I was just about to kick-start my beat-up electric scooter when Lucas rushed out and grabbed my arm. “Do you have a minute? We need to talk.” I ripped my arm from his grip, shoving my phone screen in his face. The timer was ticking down red. “No time. Customer’s waiting.” “Why didn’t you contact me when you got out?” He stared at me, his voice low, commanding. I strapped my helmet tight and revved the engine. “Didn’t see the point. I don’t want anything to do with you people ever again.” I twisted the throttle and merged into the heavy traffic, drowning out whatever he said next. I didn’t hear him. I didn’t care. In the rush to deliver the final order, I took a corner too fast. The scooter skidded. My jeans tore against the asphalt, exposing the skin beneath. It wasn’t smooth skin. It was a roadmap of grotesque, burn-like scars. They snaked from my calf all the way up my body. Staring at the jagged marks, it hit me. It had been nine years since I last truly saw Lucas. Six years in prison. Three years out. My life was a pile of rubble. His was a golden tower. The only mercy was that I felt nothing. No flutter in my heart. No pain. I limped back to the crumbling apartment complex in the darker side of the city. Downstairs, I saw Mia—my cellmate turned roommate—holding my daughter, Annie’s, hand. Before I could even park, Annie launched herself into my arms, babbling about how much she missed me. Holding her soft little body, the exhaustion melted away. Then, I noticed what she was holding. A dirty, old teddy bear. Mia saw me staring at it. “Hey,” she said softly. “Annie dug this out of your old suitcase today.” She pulled out a faded piece of paper, folded into a heart shape. “There was a letter stuffed inside the bear. I figured it was something you saved on purpose, so I kept it safe.” I took the paper. The past rushed back like a tidal wave. I unfolded it. Lucas’s sharp, confident handwriting stared back at me. Mia leaned in, trying to lighten the mood. “Ooh, let me see. Which ex wrote this? The heartbreaker?” Annie, curious, stood on her tiptoes to look. The signature at the bottom read: Forever loving my Scarlett, Lucas McKenzie. Mia’s jaw dropped. “Lucas McKenzie?” “The tech mogul? The richest guy in the state?” She looked at me, eyes wide with disbelief. “Girl, you never told me your ex was a billionaire.” I picked up my daughter, tore the letter into confetti, and let the pieces fall into the gutter. “I’m Lucas McKenzie’s ex-wife.” The ex-wife who tried to kill his mistress. The ex-wife he personally sent to prison. 2 Annie looked like Lucas. Especially when she slept. Watching her chest rise and fall, the memories I tried to bury began to claw their way out. I met Lucas in high school. He was the school’s golden boy—a genius on a scholarship, an orphan with nothing to his name. Education was his only ladder out of the gutter. I was young, naïve, and dazzled by his brilliance. I envied how easily he solved math problems that made my brain hurt. I pitted him when I saw him shivering in a thin sweater in the dead of winter. So, I convinced my father—a nouveau riche developer—to sponsor him. He started coming over. We grew close. He tutored me. He walked me home every night after study hall. I stopped letting my driver pick me up just to walk with him. Teenage affection is a dangerous thing. It grows quietly, like weeds. With my dad’s money, Lucas never went hungry again. When the SAT results came out, he was top of the state. My parents, however, had plans for me to study abroad in London. The night before I was supposed to leave, Lucas grabbed my hand. His eyes were red, desperate. “Scarlett, don’t go. After my parents died, I thought my life was over. But then you showed up.” “You are the only light I have. I love you. Please, don’t leave me.” I listened to his clumsy, desperate confession, and my heart sank right into his hands. I lied to my parents. A massive, unforgivable lie. I took my passport and suitcase and followed him to his university town. My parents thought I was struggling to adjust in London. In reality, I was in a 200-square-foot studio apartment, learning to cook cheap pasta for a boy who promised me forever. I threw away my future to drown in Lucas’s love. When the lie finally collapsed, Lucas knelt before my parents. “I will spend my life making sure Scarlett never suffers. I will die before I betray her!” My parents were moved. We got married the year he graduated. Lucas was a genius, a shark in a suit. He didn’t break his promise about the money. He took my father’s investment and turned it into an empire. Within three years, he was the new King of New York. But when a man sees the world from the top of a skyscraper, the view changes. And so do the temptations. First, it was the smell of perfume on his shirts. Then, lipstick on the collar. He would hug me and say, “Honey, it’s just business. Showmanship. You don’t understand the corporate world. My heart is yours.” I believed him. I was a high school graduate who had spent years playing house. My world was him. So when the truth hit me, it didn’t just hurt. It destroyed me. Her name was Jasmine. The daughter of a real estate tycoon. It was a winter night. He had missed his own birthday. I had spent all day baking a cake. I wanted to surprise him at the office. The main floor was dark. But a sliver of light bled from under his office door. My heart hammered against my ribs. I pushed the door open. He was naked. Jasmine was straddling him on the leather couch. They were entangled, moving with a primal rhythm. The Lucas who was always so gentle with me was rough with her. He was whispering filthy things, words I didn’t know he knew. His eyes weren’t full of love. They were full of hunger. Of satisfaction. That, I realized, was the real Lucas. 3 I did what any woman would do. I screamed. I charged in. I grabbed her hair. The cake I spent hours making smashed onto the floor, a perfect metaphor for my marriage. That was the first time he hit me. A slap, hard and fast, across my face. He shoved me back and pulled Jasmine into his arms, covering her with his jacket. “Scarlett! Have you lost your mind?” “Do you know who she is? If you touch her again, I can’t protect you!” I looked at him, and I saw a stranger. “Lucas… how could you?” He stared at me, cold and detached. “I told you, you don’t understand business. Jasmine doesn’t affect us. She’s just… necessary.” Jasmine smirked from the safety of his chest. “Scarlett, let’s be real. What do you bring to the table?” “Your family is just new money trash. Lucas is building an empire. Do you think your dad’s little investment is enough to make him King of the city?” “You have a high school diploma. You’re useless. You rely on him for the air you breathe. What right do you have to question him?” “We are a power couple. I can take his company to the next level. You? You’re just a pet.” I fled. After that, Lucas stopped coming home. I was in my twenties, watching my fairy tale burn down. I went mad. I hired a PI. I got photos. Him holding her hand on his old campus. Kissing her in the crowd. Him and her in hotel beds, tangled in sheets. Jasmine beat me in every category—money, education, looks. For the first time, I felt small. Inferior. Jealousy is a poison. I drank it all. I crashed his company’s product launch. I knew how much work he put into it. I wanted to burn it all down. I thought if he failed, he would come back to me. In front of the city’s elite, I put the sex tape on the big screen. I expected outrage. Instead, the room looked at me with pity. With disgust. Lucas looked at me, shaking his head. “Scarlett… you really disappoint me.” “You could have come to me. But ruining this? Hundreds of people worked for six months on this project. You’re so selfish. When will you grow up?” Security dragged me out. The media didn’t side with me. They painted me as the ungrateful, uneducated housewife trying to sabotage the brilliant genius and his “business partner.” I became the city’s laughingstock. I locked myself in the house. One night, in a fit of despair, I lit a match. The fire took everything. I was pulled out, burned and broken. When I woke up in the hospital, Lucas was there. He had come from Jasmine’s prenatal checkup. He stood over my bandages, looking annoyed. “Scarlett, can you just stop?” “Trying to kill yourself just to get my attention? Are you crazy?” “Your dad’s company is bleeding money. I’m the one keeping it afloat. Without me, you starve. Do you want to lose me that badly?” “I told you, you are my only wife. Jasmine agreed. As long as you behave, we won’t divorce.” Jasmine stood by the door, protecting her small bump, looking at me like I was a cockroach. I looked at Lucas. For the first time, I didn’t cry. 4 He took me home. He brushed my hair, avoiding the scars on my neck. “Scarlett, I made mistakes. But I did it for us. For a better life.” “Your parents are old. Do you want to worry them?” “Just be good. Jasmine won’t threaten your position. I promise.” I was a wasteland. My parents had signed everything over to him years ago. He held the leash. I submitted. I became a ghost in my own home. He came home three times a month. The rest of the time, he was with Jasmine. He gave her everything. He learned to cook for her cravings. He took maternity photos and posted them, captioning them with hearts. “My love, Jasmine.” I gave up everything for him. He gave up everything for her. I thought if I stayed quiet, my parents would be safe. But Jasmine wasn’t done. She invited my parents back from Europe for her baby shower. She humiliated them in front of everyone. Her father laughed. “Mr. and Mrs. Reed, you have to be selfish to be happy. Your daughter has the grace to let her husband breed with a better class of woman. You should be proud.” My parents didn’t know. I had sent them away to shield them. The room laughed. My father clutched his chest and collapsed. When I got to the hospital, he was gasping for air. “Sorry… baby girl… I was too soft… I shouldn’t have let you jump into the fire…” He flatlined before he finished. I snapped. I grabbed a fruit knife and went to the venue. Jasmine was toasting with champagne—sparkling water, actually, because Lucas was so careful with her. I didn’t see people. I saw red. I lunged. I aimed for the belly. Jasmine lost the baby. Lucas looked at me like he wanted to rip my throat out. I got six years for aggravated assault. He testified against me. One month into my sentence, I found out I was pregnant. Two years in, my mother died of grief. Because of Lucas, I lost my home, my family, my humanity. I woke up from the nightmare with a start. The sky was turning gray. Mia had already dressed Annie. “Go back to sleep, Scarlett. I’ll drop her at school.” I hugged Annie. She smelled like milk and cheap soap. My lifeline. Then, a knock at the door. Mia opened it. It was Lucas. He was panting, his shirt soaked with sweat, chest heaving. He had run here. His eyes locked onto Annie in my arms. I remembered what he had yelled yesterday as I drove away.

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I thought my parents gave me all their love. They decorated a princess room for me, overflowing with countless Barbies. They even splurged on renovating the bathroom just to put in a big bathtub for me, all because I loved my baths. They always told my little brother, Leo, that his job was to protect me for his entire life. But that all changed after I gave him a bubble bath, and he accidentally choked on a bit of water. My mom went ballistic. Her fingers dug into my neck, her voice a furious hiss. “We thought if we were good to you, you’d learn to love your brother! We never imagined you were such an ungrateful little monster, trying to drown him!” I shook my head frantically, but she just dragged me over to the front-loading washing machine and shoved me inside. “You love baths so much, right? Fine! You can wash to your heart’s content!” My parents rushed out the door with Leo, but in their panic, one of them must have bumped the start button. Water began to pour in, but I couldn’t climb out. Tangled with the laundry, I forced my eyes open and saw them rushing back in. I don’t want a bath anymore. Mom, Dad, can you please not be angry anymore? 1 The washing machine began to hum, a low, menacing rumble. I pounded on the thick glass door, my small fists making dull thuds. “Daddy, Mommy, it’s on! Let me out!” Water streamed in from the pipes, cold and fast. I curled into a ball, but it rose quickly, already reaching my chest. I sputtered, swallowing a mouthful. On the other side of the glass, my parents were pacing, cradling my coughing little brother. “Mommy, Daddy, I choked too!” I tried to shout, my voice a muffled plea. If only one of them would just turn around. One glance was all it would take to save me. I threw all my weight against the door, but it wouldn’t budge. I remembered them talking about it once—how they’d bought this specific model with a child lock, just in case I got big enough to be mischievous and climb inside. Once it was locked, it was locked for good. The drum began to twitch, then slowly turn. The icy touch of the metal walls pressed against my skin. Suddenly, the whole world jolted and then began to spin. An irresistible force threw me up, slammed me down, and threw me up again. My body crashed against the hard drum with a sickening thud. I tried to scream for help, but the moment I opened my mouth, soapy, sweet-smelling water flooded my mouth and nose. Dad, Mom… Dizziness washed over me, a crushing weight on my chest. I fought to keep my eyes open, desperate for one last look at them. I saw them, a blur of motion, hastily pulling on their jackets. “I am so disappointed in Penny,” my mom’s voice cut through the roar. “If she’d do this to her brother while we’re right here, who knows what she does in private. She needs to learn a real lesson this time.” “What do we do, honey?” Dad sounded panicked. “Leo’s been coughing forever, his face is turning red.” “The hospital. We’re going to the hospital, now!” The machine’s first spin cycle paused. The suffocating water slowly drained away, but my relief was short-lived as a new gush began to pour in. Terrified, I used every last bit of my strength to bang on the glass. “Daddy, Mommy, please save me! Penny can’t hold on!” My mom, who was putting on her shoes, froze. She walked towards me! “Mommy, help me,” I whimpered, a flicker of hope igniting in my chest. I knew it. She was just trying to scare me. I’d never, ever hurt Leo again, not even by accident. She reached out a hand, but not for the door handle. She stood a few feet away, her face a mask of disappointment as she pointed a finger at me. “You still don’t think you’re wrong, do you? Trying to break the machine to show me you’re angry? Penny, your brother is two years old! The first word he learned was ‘sis,’ and this is how you treat him?” “You can stay in there and think about what you’ve done. We’ve spoiled you rotten, and that’s how you became so entitled.” I cried and shook my head, feeling the water rising up my back again. My head was still spinning from the first cycle. I weakly slapped the glass to get her attention, but it only fueled her rage. She kicked the machine, the metal frame vibrating from the impact. “You dare talk back to me?!” No, no, Mommy! The water will fill the whole thing! I can’t survive that! I started praying for the water to rise faster, so she’d see the danger and let me out. A soft beep echoed, and I braced myself, pushing against the walls with my arms and legs. Just hold on. As soon as she opens the door, I’ll be safe. But then, the drum began to turn again, and my dad walked over, holding Leo. “Honey, stop wasting time being angry with Penny. We need to get to the hospital.” No… I watched in horror as my mom turned her back on me and walked away. The front door slammed shut. The next second, the machine roared to life. The world spun, tossing me back and forth, a discarded rag in a violent storm. 2 When I opened my eyes again, I was floating in mid-air. I thought I’d been saved. My first instinct was to go find Mom and Dad. But I didn’t want to make them angry again, so I quietly went to my room and curled up amongst my Barbies, drifting off to sleep. I don’t know how long I was asleep, but I woke to the sound of the front door opening. Mom and Dad were back, carrying Leo. In Dad’s other hand was a huge, ride-on electric toy car. “Thank God Leo’s okay,” Dad said with a sigh of relief. “Otherwise, Penny would have been in serious trouble.” “Our little boy went through a lot,” Mom said, deliberately raising her voice and glancing towards the laundry room. “This toy car is to make up for it! From now on, whoever gets hurt gets a present. The one who does the hurting gets put in time-out!” They exchanged a look, then tilted their heads, listening for a sound from the washing machine. After a long moment of silence, they both frowned and sneered. “See? Still sulking,” Mom scoffed. “If she wants to stay in there, let her. It’s not like the machine is running. She’s not going to die.” I floated back and forth in front of them. Mommy, Daddy, I’m already out! Can’t you see me? Penny’s not sulking. Please don’t say that about me. I kept trying to talk to them, but it was like I was invisible. Their eyes passed right through me. I tried to touch them, but my hand phased straight through their bodies. It was only then that I realized the horrible truth. I think I died in the washing machine. I drifted over and peered through the glass door. A small figure was curled up inside, twisted into a strange, unnatural position. Was that me? I turned back to see my parents cooing over Leo. Oh well. This was my punishment. At least this way, I wouldn’t have to wash Leo’s dirty diapers anymore. They hadn’t spent any real time with me since he was born. Now, maybe I could be with them all the time. I swallowed the heavy lump in my throat and forced a smile. For dinner, Dad made my favorite: BBQ ribs. After feeding Leo, they sat at the table, their faces grim, and glanced towards the laundry room again. Dad spoke first. “Penny, come out and eat.” 3 The only reply was the soft gurgle from Leo. Mom slammed her bowl down on the table, her patience gone. “Fine, don’t eat! Who spoiled you into this brat? You screw up and then you throw a tantrum? Don’t eat now, don’t eat ever!” “I might as well have given birth to a bad seed,” she muttered. “Everyone says it’s impossible to treat two kids equally. We thought if we were extra nice to you, you’d be nice to your brother. Instead, it just made you an arrogant, ungrateful brat.” “Just leave her,” Dad said. “It’s not comfortable in there. She’s so delicate, she won’t last long. She’s probably already snuck back to her room.” I floated nearby, listening, a stinging sensation building behind my eyes. Mommy, I really didn’t mean it. I was just trying to help you give Leo a bath. They ignored me. They ate most of the ribs, and my mom took the leftovers outside to feed a stray dog. “I’d get more gratitude from a dog than from her,” she said bitterly. I didn’t dare follow them anymore. I curled up in my room, a lonely ghost. My parents were laughing as they played with Leo. They read him a picture book, and Mom’s voice was so gentle—a gentleness I hadn’t heard directed at me in a very long time. I listened until I fell asleep, only to be woken by my mother’s shout. “Penny, your brother’s looking for you again! Get out here and play with him!” I stared at my closed bedroom door. But Mommy, I’m dead. I can’t help you, even if I want to. If you’d just open the washing machine door, just for a second, you’d see that I’m gone. “Penny! Have you had enough of this? My patience with you has reached its limit!” After a moment of silence in the living room, my bedroom door was thrown open. My mom stormed in, Dad right behind her. They froze when they saw the empty room. Dad looked around, even checking under the bed. “Where’s Penny?” I thought they’d be worried. I thought they’d finally run to the washing machine. But Mom’s face just grew colder. “She’s small, but she’s full of tricks. Where else could she be? She must have snuck out and run to Grandma’s to tattle on us while we were gone!” “Who spoiled her into this monster? She wants to play games with me? Fine! Let’s play!” Mom spun around and marched toward my collection of Barbie dolls. She grabbed a pair of scissors and started snipping off their hair, then their heads. She snapped off their arms and legs, throwing the mangled pieces on the floor and stomping on them with her heel. I cried, trying to push her away, but it was useless. Mommy, I’m not throwing a tantrum. I want to be with you, but I can’t. I’m trapped in that machine forever. Dad sighed. “Forget it. We don’t have time for this now. If she’s at your mom’s place, it gives us a break anyway. I’ll go do Leo’s laundry.” Laundry? I followed him. He grabbed a small pile of clothes and walked toward the washing machine. My non-existent heart started to pound. I was terrified of them seeing the gruesome scene inside, but also desperate for them to find me. Once Dad saw me, Mom would have to believe I wasn’t just throwing a fit. I know it was pointless, but I stretched out my little ghostly hands and tried to cover his eyes. But before he could bend down and open the door, Mom called out. “You can’t put baby clothes in the washing machine! Wash them by hand!” Dejected, I lowered my hands and glanced back at the machine. In the sealed, warm environment, my body… I think it was starting to swell. A faint, unpleasant smell was beginning to seep out. I had been gone for two full days. It wasn’t until the evening of the second day that Dad finally nudged Mom to call my grandma. “Why don’t you call your mom and ask if Penny is behaving over there? Make sure she’s okay.” Mom reluctantly picked up her phone, grumbling as she dialed. “She’s a big girl, what could happen to her? Honestly, sometimes I look at her and I just get so angry. I’d rather have no daughter than one so thoughtless. It would have been better if she just died.” I looked down, picking at my fingers, too sad to speak. But Mommy, your wish came true. When the call connected, Mom asked bluntly, “Mom, is Penny at your house? Is she giving you any trouble?” On the other end, Grandma’s voice boomed. “What’d you say?” 4 I thought she was asking in shock, but her next words dashed my hopes. “I couldn’t hear you! Speak up!” The light in my eyes dimmed again. Just as Mom was about to speak, Leo started crying. The answer that was on the tip of her tongue was lost forever. “Oh, never mind, never mind. I have to go check on the baby.” For the next few days, my parents didn’t mention me again. Dad went to work every day like clockwork. But Leo suddenly started refusing his bottle and spitting up his food. Worried sick, Mom took him to several hospitals, but nothing worked. Then, she heard from a friend, Aunt Jenna, about a renowned traditional doctor. She called Aunt Jenna, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “Oh, Jenna, hi! Your son Kyle hasn’t come over to play with my Penny in ages. I’ll send Penny over in a few days to keep him company.” A chill ran down my spine. I had played with Aunt Jenna’s son before. He was a bully. He once hit me over the head with a chair. Another time, he made me watch as he strangled a newborn kitten. The nightmares haunted me for a month. My parents had strictly forbidden me from ever seeing Kyle again. Mom said he was trouble, that he’d even gouged another kid’s eye once. Aunt Jenna laughed coldly on the phone. “I thought Penny didn’t like playing with my son.” Mom lowered her voice, sounding almost desperate. “Jenna, I heard you know a really good doctor. My son hasn’t been eating lately. Do you think you could take me to see him sometime? I could drop Penny off at your place while we go. The kids can keep each other company.” My heart sank. To find a doctor for Leo, my mom was willing to just throw me to the wolves. I wanted to leave this house, but I couldn’t. It was as if I was tethered to my parents. I started to hope, to pray, that someone, anyone, would find me. Then one day, just as Mom and Dad were about to leave with Leo, both sets of my grandparents showed up. They were all carrying presents. The wrapping paper was pink and sparkly. Were they for me? A little spark of excitement lit up inside me, but my mom’s brow furrowed when she saw them. “Mom, Dad, how many times have I told you? You have to be fair! These gifts are all for Penny. What about my son?” she complained. “He might be young, but he’s not stupid. This will hurt his feelings. When you have two kids, you can’t play favorites.” My paternal grandma frowned and brought in a strawberry cake from the hallway, her expression annoyed. “How can you, his own mother, forget your daughter’s birthday? Of course we’re bringing her presents.” A wave of warmth finally washed over me. My grandparents all remembered my birthday. I was still a loved child. The strawberry cake smelled so sweet, my absolute favorite. I circled it, nuzzling my cheek against my grandma’s arm. Grandma looked around the apartment. “Where’s Penny?” My parents froze, their faces flashing with embarrassment before they turned to my maternal grandma. “Yeah, Mom, we were just about to come to your place to pick her up,” Dad said quickly. “Since you were coming for her birthday, why didn’t you bring her with you?” Mom added. My maternal grandparents frowned deeply. “When did you ever bring her to our house? You two must be losing your minds from stress.” With that, all four of them went to check my room. “Penny? Grandma’s sweet girl, come on out! Look what Grandma got for your birthday!” My parents stood stiffly in the doorway, their bodies rigid. My paternal grandma searched the whole apartment and came out again, her voice sharp with worry. “Where is the child? When was the last time you saw her?” My parents started to tremble, an uncontrollable shaking that ran through their bodies. They didn’t speak. They couldn’t. Their eyes, wide with a dawning horror, drifted towards the washing machine.

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The day I discovered my husband had a secret three-year-old son, I rigged the gas main in our villa. I intended to light a match the moment he walked through the door and take us both to hell. But that night, Neo didn’t come home. Instead, for the first time, I felt the baby kick. In that split second, the desire to die vanished. I took the most expensive car in the garage, drove to the edge of the property, and triggered the explosion remotely. Bathed in the orange glow of the flames, I drove straight to the airport. From that night on, the Mrs. Gu—Anna—who had become the laughingstock of New York’s elite, ceased to exist. Five years later, we met again in the lobby of a historic inn in a quiet riverside town. He stared at me as I politely handed him a room key, his eyes losing focus. “Anna? You look… different.” I didn’t answer. I simply smiled—a practiced, hollow curve of the lips—and wished his family of three a pleasant stay. 1. The key card hovered in the air between us. Neo didn’t move to take it. My wrist began to ache from holding the pose. I cleared my throat. “Mr. Gu, your key.” “I’ll take it, babe.” A gentle, melodic voice drifted from behind him, shattering the frozen tension. It was his lawfully wedded wife, Mindy. My gaze snagged on the massive diamond—the size of a pigeon’s egg—glittering on her ring finger before colliding with her beautiful eyes. The same eyes that had haunted my nightmares for years. “Didn’t I tell you to wait on the sofa? You never listen. You make me worry.” Neo’s reaction was instinctual. He took her purse, his arm circling her waist protectively. He placed the back of his hand against her forehead, his voice dripping with a tenderness I had never known. “Good, the fever’s down.” “You must be exhausted. Take our son upstairs to rest. I’ll go out and buy you some hot soup.” Mindy leaned into his chest, her smile widening as she glanced at me. It was a look of pure assessment. “Okay. I’ll wait for you.” I averted my eyes as they embraced. At that moment, a delivery driver walked in, struggling with a heavy shipment of cat litter. While I was checking the order on the tablet, Neo had already bent down and hoisted the box. “I’ve got it. Where does it go?” “Don’t bother.” I reached out to take it, deliberately stepping back to create a chasm of distance between us. I glanced at his bespoke Italian suit, now dusted with grime from the box. I turned to the register, pulled out two bills, and held them out. “Dry cleaning fee. Take it.” “No, I offered to help.” Neo reached out to stop me. His fingertips grazed my wrist, and I recoiled as if burned. His hand froze in mid-air. His voice dropped, thick with an emotion I couldn’t place. “Really, Anna. Keep it. I have to go.” He turned sharply, nearly colliding with Bella, my young employee, who was returning with a bag of roasted chestnuts. Bella watched his retreating figure, eyes wide. She grabbed my arm, practically vibrating with excitement. “Anna! Wasn’t that Neo Gu? The tech mogul from New York? God, he’s gorgeous in person!” “I saw his interview in Forbes. Self-made billionaire, and every third sentence was about his late wife. Powerful and devoted? That’s a unicorn right there.” A few guests in the lobby chimed in, nodding eagerly. “Right? I heard his ex-wife was insane. She supposedly attacked people with a knife. Belonged in jail, honestly.” “He was too soft-hearted. Gave her a massive settlement and only divorced her when he couldn’t take the abuse anymore.” Hearing the slander again, after five years, I felt nothing. My heart was a stagnant pool of dead water. Only the jagged scar on the web of my hand began to throb. 2. I rubbed my thumb over the centipede-like scar between my thumb and forefinger. The memories flooded back, unbidden. Neo wasn’t always a titan of industry. Once, he was just the charity case at our prep school, bullied for his poverty. I remembered a winter day, freezing cold. A group of rich heirs had cornered him in an alley. Blood streamed down his forehead, staining his threadbare uniform crimson. I was the one who grabbed a piece of lumber and charged in to save him. In the chaos, a broken bottle sliced my hand open. It tore down to the bone. Twelve stitches. Neo had tried to sneak out of the emergency room. I chased him down, only to realize his pockets were empty. He didn’t even have the money for the copay. He had an alcoholic father and a mother struggling with severe mental illness. From that day on, I became his shield. He remained silent, brooding, but he would stay late after school to help me with advanced calculus. The year we graduated, he got into an Ivy League university on a full academic ride, but he almost didn’t go because he couldn’t afford the room and board. I begged my father to sponsor him. When he started his first company during senior year, the same rich bullies tried to crush him with lawsuits. My father intervened, brought Neo into our family business, and mentored him. Neo had a terrifying gift for business. Complex data streams that gave others headaches made perfect sense to him at a glance. I used to sit beside him, chin in my hand, watching his profile as he worked. My eyes were full of hero worship. My father saw right through me. Even knowing Neo only felt gratitude towards me, he funded Neo’s startup after graduation. Within a year, Neo Gu was a name to be reckoned with in New York. Later, when my mother fell ill and my father made risky investments to pay for experimental treatments, our family company teetered on the brink of bankruptcy. It was Neo who stepped in and saved us. My father used to say, “Neo is our benefactor now. The debts are paid. Let him live his life.” But Neo knelt before my father, his expression solemn, swearing an oath. “Sir, I can never repay what you’ve done. Please, give Anna to me. I will take care of her for the rest of my life. She will never suffer, not for a second.” The old scar on my hand pulsed again. I looked down at the ugly, raised skin and felt a bitter laugh bubble up in my throat. Humans are so tragically naive. We mistake gratitude for love every single time. After that, I didn’t even need a formal title. I acted like Mrs. Gu. I spent time at his office, silently marking my territory. Neo never objected. He even let me interview his personal assistants. “Just pick a sharp guy,” he’d said. But the day of the interviews, my eyes landed on Mindy’s resume. It was average. Single, divorced, no kids. But her eyes. They were identical to Neo’s late mother’s eyes. Neo’s mother, in her lucid moments, had been the only light in his dark childhood. So, I didn’t ask questions. I hired Mindy. When Neo saw her, he lost his composure. His eyes turned red. That night, he held me, trembling, whispering thank you over and over. I felt sorry for him. I invited Mindy to our home for dinner. I created opportunities for them to bond, thinking I was helping heal his childhood trauma. I didn’t know I was digging my own grave. 3. The gossiping crowd dispersed. I shook off the memories and picked up a framed photo of my daughter, wiping a speck of dust from the glass. Bella, munching on a chestnut, leaned over the counter. “Anna, these remainders are still warm. Why don’t you ever eat them? They’re delicious.” My hand froze on the frame. The pain hit me like a physical blow. My mother and I used to love roasted chestnuts. Every winter, my father would bring home a paper bag of them, steaming hot. Mom would peel them, blow on them to cool them down, and feed them to me. The year Mom was dying, in a moment of terminal lucidity, she whispered that she wanted chestnuts. Dad drove out into a blizzard to buy them. Halfway back, the hospital called to say she was crashing. In his panic, he sped up. He hydroplaned into an oncoming semi-truck. He died instantly. The bag of chestnuts, still hot, was found scattered across the icy asphalt, stained with my father’s blood. That snowy day, I lost both of my parents. Bella listened to the silence, her eyes tearing up. She realized she’d stepped on a landmine. She pushed the bag away, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Anna… I’m so sorry. Lily and I aren’t going anywhere. We’ll always be with you.” “Lily gets out of school soon. Maybe we can take a walk by the river tonight…” She stopped mid-sentence. Her eyes locked onto the photo of my daughter, then widened in shock. “Anna… Lily’s father… the one who disappeared… is it…?” I nodded once. Bella wrestled with herself for a moment before asking, her voice trembling with righteous indignation. “Then… the rumors… Anna, how much did you have to endure?” I paused. A sudden sting in my nose threatened tears, but I blinked them away. I smiled. Actually, we had a few sweet years. The day my parents died, Neo proposed to me. He brought a lawyer to the funeral home and signed over all his shares in his company to me. He knelt on one knee, swearing he would give me a new home, a new family. He begged me to stop crying because it was breaking his heart. When I fainted from grief, he handled the double funeral arrangements himself. We eloped. No wedding, just plain bands we’d bought during college. I was content. I thought I was the luckiest woman alive. I poured my soul into Neo. I knew he was busy building an empire, so I asked for nothing. If he worked late, I left a light on. If he traveled, I packed his bags. And for a while, he didn’t disappoint. New York was envious of how he doted on me. The billboards in Times Square, the front pages of society papers—he used them all to declare his love. “I love Anna” was his public mantra. Just as I was finally healing from the loss of my parents, drowning in his affection, the news broke. Billionaire Gu Caught in Affair. The photos were clear. Neo and Mindy, embracing in the rooftop garden of a revolving restaurant. Kissing. It was my birthday. I had cooked a feast of his favorite dishes. I was wearing the dress he bought me. I waited all night. Every time I called, he answered, voice tender: “I’m in a meeting, baby. Be good. I’ll be home soon.” Mindy had even sent me a gift that day—a jewelry set bought with her year-end bonus. The card read: Happy Birthday to my best friend. That night, surrounded by cold food and “happiness,” I thought I had everything. I didn’t know the two people I loved most were holding the knife behind my back. 4. When I saw the news, I snapped. I got in my car and drove like a maniac, tears blurring the road. I almost crashed twice. I didn’t care. I just wanted answers. I screeched to a halt in front of the restaurant just as Neo was opening the car door for Mindy like a gentleman. I ripped my door open and sprinted toward them. Neo instinctively stepped in front of Mindy, shielding her. His eyes were cold, devoid of guilt. “Anna, what the hell are you doing causing a scene here?” Mindy peeked out from behind him, smiling sweetly. “Hi, Anna.” Around her pale neck hung a ruby necklace—one I had admired for months but felt was too extravagant to buy. Right next to the ruby, a dark hickey bloomed on her skin. It stung my eyes more than the gem. I lunged at her, screaming. “I treated you like a sister! I gave you everything! Why?!” Mindy started sobbing, shrinking into Neo’s arms, but her eyes danced with triumph. Neo shoved me. Hard. Then he turned to check on Mindy, his voice soft, cooing at her tears. I fell to the pavement, clutching my stomach as a sharp cramp seized me. I watched them hold each other, and my heart shattered. Neo turned back to scold me, but then he froze. Blood was pooling beneath my dress. I miscarried. Our first child, killed by his hand. He took me to the hospital. He sat by my bed, looking just as devastated and loving as he used to. He apologized a thousand times. “Anna, I’m sorry. I was wrong. I promise, I will never hurt you again.” I slapped him. I clawed at him. I screamed that he was a monster. He took it all silently, eyes red. “Don’t agitate yourself,” he whispered. “Your health comes first.” But I wasn’t done. I screamed that I would destroy Mindy. That was when Neo’s face changed. He slapped me across the face. His voice was ice. “Anna, if you touch a hair on her head, I will make you wish you were dead.” Seeing him protect the mistress ignited a hatred in me that burned hotter than love ever did. After that day, he stopped visiting. He paraded Mindy around town openly. My phone was flooded with photos of them in bed, sent by anonymous numbers, accompanied by vile insults. I smashed everything in our penthouse. I burned our wedding album. When my body healed, I called in every favor my father had left behind. I blacklisted Mindy from every industry in the city. I leaked the details of the affair to the press. For a week, Mindy was a pariah. Then Neo retaliated. He locked me in a hotel room for months. He tied me to the bed. He forced himself on me, recording my screams and my breakdowns, careful to blur his own face. He leaked the videos. Overnight, the narrative flipped. Mindy was the victim of a crazy woman. I became the “deranged wife,” the “slut,” the joke of New York. My friends abandoned me. My father’s old company, which had been hanging by a thread, lost its last investors because of my reputation. It went bankrupt. The day my dignity was completely destroyed, Neo let me go. I was hollowed out by hate. I took a knife and marched into his headquarters. I managed to slash Mindy’s arm and graze Neo’s shoulder before security tackled me. While I was pinned to the floor, screaming like a banshee, Neo sat at his desk and signed the papers to sell my father’s company for pennies on the dollar. My father’s legacy, gone. I begged him to stop. I invoked my father’s name, the man who saved him from the streets. Neo looked down at me with pure contempt. “Anna, that debt was paid the moment I kept the company afloat this long. You hurt Mindy. Now I’m going to take my time destroying you.” That was the day I saw their son, Mason. He was already walking. I realized then that their affair hadn’t started recently. It started the moment I hired her. My lack of a wedding, my cheap ring—it wasn’t thriftiness. It was Neo saving money for her. Even the “I Love Anna” billboards? Mindy booked the ad space. It was all a smokescreen to protect their little family while I played the fool. That night, I rigged the gas line. I wanted to end it all. But then, the nausea hit. I took a test. Pregnant again. Hope is a dangerous thing. It cut through the darkness. I triggered the explosion to fake my death and vanished into the night. Bella was sobbing into her sleeve. I wiped her tears and walked to the door to wait for the kindergarten bus. Bella followed me, voice hoarse, cursing Neo to the high heavens. I took my daughter’s small hand as she hopped off the bus. I turned around—and slammed straight into a familiar gaze. Neo was standing there. The container of soup he had gone to buy slipped from his fingers and splattered on the floor. His pupils constricted to pinpricks. He stared at Lily. “That child… whose is it?” 5. I pulled Lily behind me, shielding her with my body. My voice was steel. “This is my daughter. She has nothing to do with you, Mr. Gu. Your wife and son are waiting upstairs. Don’t keep them waiting.” Neo took a step forward. Bella, bless her heart, lunged like a feral cat. She shoved him back with surprising strength. “Are you deaf? She said get lost! We don’t welcome trash in this B&B! Get your people and get out!” She dragged him by his expensive sleeve toward the door. Neo stumbled, offering no resistance, but his head remained turned, his eyes locked on Lily with a burning intensity. “Mommy, let’s go,” Lily tugged at my hand, oblivious to the undercurrents. “Uncle Ethan is waiting for us to eat pizza!” Ethan. My landlord. The man who had silently stood guard over me for five years. I looked over and saw him waiting by the entrance of the pizza place down the street. His eyes were warm, steady—like a harbor in a storm. I relaxed. “Okay, sweetie. Let’s go.”

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It was the first day of college. The scholarship student my dad was “sponsoring” drove my brand-new Maserati to registration. I tried to suppress my rage and told her to give the car back. She rolled her eyes at me. “Just because I’m the billionaire’s main mistress, you think you can demand things? Even if you climbed into his bed right now, you’d only be number four in line!” I suspected I was going deaf. I couldn’t help but ask a few more questions. She whipped out her phone to show me a selfie of them together. “The Big Boss sponsors you, but he sponsors me more! Look at you, you look like a total prude. In terms of status, I’m the honored concubine, and you’re just a maid who hasn’t managed to sleep her way to the top yet!” “Since when do the servants use better stuff than the masters? I heard the Boss bought you a villa last week? Transfer it to my name, and maybe I’ll take you along tonight to serve him.” I laughed out of sheer anger and called my mom immediately. “Mom, winter is coming. It’s time to let your trophy husband go bankrupt.” 1 On registration day, I drove my Porsche Cayenne to campus. This was already my biggest compromise. To celebrate me starting college, my mom, without a second thought, had bought me a hot pink Maserati. As she put it: “Young girls should drive bright colors!” But the attention that car grabbed was just too intense. As a freshman, I couldn’t handle that kind of heat. As soon as I parked near the freshman check-in, I heard a commotion to my right. “Holy crap! A Maserati! Is that the new GT?!” “Who is that? Making such a scene on the first day? That’s aggressive!” “Check the plate! Ending in 0728? Birthday plates? Damn, her family must be loaded!” My eyelid twitched. I followed the noise, and my heart skipped a beat. That flashy pink Maserati being surrounded, photographed, and screamed over… It wasn’t the new car my mom gave me last week. It couldn’t be anyone else’s. The plate ended in 0728—my birthday. No mistake. My stomach dropped. I remembered my dad acting all mysterious this morning, borrowing my car key. “Daddy’s got a surprise for you for school,” he’d said. Surprise? This was a heart attack! But a tiny part of me was hopeful. I grabbed my suitcase and squeezed through the crowd. The chatter was getting louder, the sound of camera shutters non-stop. “Man, she must be a top-tier heiress.” “I’m crying. I’m just trying to get my license, and she starts college in a Maserati…” Just then, the Maserati door opened. A foot clad in a four-inch stiletto stepped out. Followed by a girl squeezing out of the car. She was wearing a Chanel suit that looked suspiciously cheap, makeup thick enough for a nightclub, and carrying a canvas tote bag printed with “Sterling Charity Foundation.” She acted like she owned the place, circling the car, blowing a kiss to the staring crowd, and speaking in a voice dripping with affectation: “Alright, alright, stop taking pictures. It’s just a daily driver. Keep it low profile.” The tiny hope in my heart shattered into dust. It was officially a nightmare. My suitcase hit the ground with a loud thud. Seriously, who the hell is she? 2 The noise I made obviously caught her attention. She turned her head, her gaze sweeping over me like a searchlight dipped in chili oil—hot and stinging. When she saw the plain Converse on my feet, her look turned into undisguised contempt. She suddenly curled her finger at me, her voice sharp enough to scratch glass. “Hey! You with the suitcase! Yeah, you! Come here!” I frowned, standing my ground. My eyes locked on her dark purple fingernails as I asked, “That car is mine. How did you get it?” The crowd went silent for half a second. Then, like a powder keg lighting up, they exploded into laughter. “Did she say the car is hers? Is she crazy?” “Dressed like a high schooler, backpack, canvas shoes… trying to claim a Maserati? Brave, sister!” The girl paused, then laughed so hard she trembled, as if she’d heard the world’s best joke. She puffed out her chest, pulling the tote bag with the logo prominently in front of her, practically shoving it in everyone’s face. “Yours? You?!” She pointed at the canvas bag, emphasizing every word: “Do you know what this is? It’s a special pass from the Sterling Charity Foundation! I am personally looked after by the Billionaire himself! Someone like you…” She glanced at my sneakers again and let out a scoff. “You can’t even afford decent shoes. Do you really think we’re on the same level?” Obviously, in the presence of a Maserati, everyone had stopped using their brains. The crowd’s murmurs turned malicious, attacking me like oil thrown on a fire. “Oh, she’s trying to act like a gold digger to get noticed? Thick skin.” “Takes all kinds, huh? Losing your dignity for money? I’m embarrassed for her.” “Tsk tsk, she looks so innocent, who knew…” I was speechless. These were my most low-key shoes, and they still cost $800. But they were definitely better than the knockoff outfit she was wearing. And that tote bag… What “Sterling Charity Foundation”? I’d never seen my mom organize a charity foundation. Oh, wait… Mom didn’t, but Dad did. I remembered three years ago, my dad mumbling something about the corporation having “charity quotas,” so he set up a small foundation. He was in charge and said he was helping a “financially struggling student with excellent grades.” I think her name was… “Jessica Jordan?” 3 The girl raised an eyebrow. She crossed her arms, lifting her chin even higher. “Oh? You have some sharp eyes after all. You recognize me? Then you should know not to mess with me.” I couldn’t stop the cold sneer forming inside me. I didn’t expect my trophy-husband dad to prepare such a big “surprise” for me! Taking the key to my new car to let this charity case flex? Interesting. Since when did the “Billionaire” shift from my mom to Richard Sterling? I lost my patience, pulled out my phone, and took two steps forward. I looked Jessica dead in the eye. “I’ll say it one more time. This car is mine. The 0728 is my birthday. Give me the key. Now.” Jessica laughed dramatically, clutching her stomach. “You’re saying the Boss gave you this car? You got proof?” She whipped out her phone, found a photo, and held it up high. “Look closely! This is me and Mr. Sterling! He said it himself, I’m his little baby, and he gives me all the good stuff!” “As for you… your last name isn’t Sterling. You’re clearly not his daughter. Trying to get him to be your sugar daddy, aren’t you?” In the photo, my dad, wearing the Armani suit my mom bought him, was carefully tying a Hermès scarf around Jessica’s neck. The background was unmistakably the seven-figure crystal chandelier in our living room. The timestamp was exactly from last month when Mom and I were traveling abroad. Heh. Good job, Dad. Cheating is one thing, but erasing your daughter’s existence? The crowd exploded again. “I know him! That’s Richard Sterling! He’s a top exec at Sterling Corp, the Marketing Director!” “Director? A director isn’t exactly a billionaire, right? Did this Jessica girl get scammed by an old guy?” “You don’t get it. Richard Sterling has deep connections. Rumor has it he gave up his own inheritance to work at Sterling Corp. His real net worth is at least in the billions! Calling him the Richest Man isn’t a stretch!” “Yeah, and I heard Sterling Corp only survives because of his connections. Otherwise, it would have gone under ages ago…” I laughed out of pure anger. I had no idea my dad was packaging himself like this to the outside world. My mom was always too busy with the conglomerate’s actual business to care about this petty gossip. And the people in our circle wouldn’t bother mentioning such trivial things to me. After all, everyone who actually matters knows: Without my mom, Richard Sterling is absolutely nothing. But clearly, this fox-borrowing-the-tiger’s-power trick really worked on this idiot girl my age. Disgusting. I completely lost my patience, my voice turning ice cold. “Jessica, I don’t have time for your performance. Last warning: give me the key.” “Or face the consequences.” Jessica wasn’t scared. Instead, she craned her neck and shrieked: “Why should I?! Mr. Sterling said this car is for me to drive! Who the hell are you to order me around?!” I sneered. “He said that? Fine. Why don’t you call your ‘dear’ right now, in front of everyone, and ask him whose car this is?” “And while you’re at it, tell him Serena Sterling is standing right here. See if he still dares to admit he has any relationship with you!” The crowd, always eager for drama, started chanting. “Yeah, call him! Ask and we’ll know the truth!” “Speakerphone! Put it on speaker, we all want to hear!” 4 Jessica clearly loved being the center of attention. She slowly pulled out her phone, deliberately swiping the screen with a flourish before dialing. After a few rings, it connected. Jessica immediately switched to a sickly sweet, baby voice that could induce diabetes: “Hiii honey~ What are you doing? I’m at the school registration, and something so funny happened.” “Some crazy girl blocked me and claims your car is hers! But you gave this to me, isn’t that hilarious?” “Oh, she says her name is Serena…” Suddenly, on the other end of the line, my dad started stammering: “Who… forget it, don’t listen to her… she’s being unreasonable… just go register first… I’ll handle it later…” Jessica turned off the speakerphone, whispered a few more things to my dad, and hung up. She rolled a massive eye at me, looking triumphant. “Hear that? Still want my stuff? Give it up!” “My Richard told me all about you. You’re the one stalking him!” “I’m the Boss’s number three. Even if you climbed into his bed now, you’d only be number four!” I froze, terrified I had heard wrong. “Excuse me? Me? His number four?” I became my own dad’s mistress number four? Who is she trying to kill with laughter? Jessica had zero shame about self-identifying as a mistress. She put her hands on her hips and scoffed: “Yeah, don’t you know the rules?” “The Boss sponsors you, but he sponsors me more! Look at you, all buttoned up. You’re basically the concubine who hasn’t been touched yet. I’m the favorite! You’re just a maid trying to get promoted!” “Since when do servants use better things than their masters? I heard last week you badgered the Boss into buying you a villa? Heh, you better transfer that villa to me right now. Maybe I’ll take you along tonight to serve him!” Her speech shocked the people around us. “Oh my god, did she just say that out loud? Shameless…” “But hey, catching a billionaire’s eye is a skill, right?” “Is she insane? She looks decent, but her mind is so dirty.” “I think she’s just being real. People respect money, not morals these days.” “Exactly. Better than this other girl, acting like a prude when she’s probably a gold digger too. The Boss said Serena is the one stalking him. Plus, I saw a Porsche key in her bag. Probably her allowance from the Boss!” “Right! I support Jessica! Brave love isn’t wrong. Getting a Maserati out of being a mistress is talent.” Talent. Right. I was rendered speechless by the bizarre logic of this crowd. I rolled my eyes and opened my bag. I dug around and finally pulled out the spare key for the pink Maserati. Just as I took it out… A hand with purple nails snatched it from my grip. “Aha! I wondered why you were so confident! You stole my spare key! You are absolutely shameless! You’ll use any dirty trick for money!”

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