Category: English

1 Wyatt’s little canary was throwing a tantrum again. He slid the divorce papers across the table to me. “Sign them. It’s just for show, to keep the girl happy.” My fingers tightened on the fabric of my skirt, but I nodded, quietly signing my name. As I was leaving, I heard one of his friends laugh. “Man, your wife is way too agreeable. You could probably ask her to get the marriage license for you and your new girl, and she wouldn’t make a peep.” Wyatt lit a cigarette, a smirk in his voice. “Wanna bet?” They made a wager. That in one month, at City Hall, I would be sobbing my eyes out, but I would still do as I was told. I would trade our marriage certificate for a decree of divorce. I clutched my phone, saying nothing. I just replied to the message that had just come in: Just marry me. Can’t you? “I can.” 2 ? The reply was almost instantaneous. I switched off my phone screen. The sound of laughter still spilled from the office. “Alright, it’s a deal! If she’s really that obedient, drinks for the next month are on me!” “Make it three months,” Wyatt said. “Done, done!” A chorus of laughter and jeers. I fled, stumbling out of the office building and into the sharp, blinding sunlight. Only then did the tears begin to stream down my face. Wyatt had his eyes on a college girl. He bought her a sprawling condo in Seabrook City, filling it with a king’s ransom in luxury goods. But the girl wouldn’t let him kiss her, wouldn’t let him hold her. She lived in a 4,000-square-foot penthouse, draped in haute couture that cost more than a car, and yet she’d jut out her chin and declare, “I will not be a homewrecker!” Wyatt found it endlessly amusing. This was the third time he’d put on a show for her. The first time, he’d staged a grand display of affection with me. I didn’t know about Sadie then. I’d wrapped my arms around him, giddy with joy as we took dozens of photos. When he posted a whole carousel on Instagram, my heart swelled with a mixture of surprise and anticipation. But no matter how many times I refreshed my feed, I couldn’t see it. I found out later he’d set the post’s privacy to ‘Visible only to Sadie.’ The second time, he picked a fight with me. He left me stranded on a street corner and sent Sadie a picture of me crying alone in the rain. See? I’m stuck. She can’t live without me. And the third time, he was divorcing me. My phone buzzed. I pulled it out. Are you serious? You really mean it? Josephine. I wiped away my tears and managed a small, bitter smile. “I’m serious.” 3 That afternoon, Wyatt took me to City Hall, just as he’d planned. He was in a fantastic mood the entire way, chattering about where I wanted to go for our third anniversary. Wyatt and I had grown up together. This was our third year of marriage. “How about Prague?” he suggested. “You’ve been begging to feed the pigeons in the Old Town Square since you were seven.” He got out, walked around to my side, and unbuckled my seatbelt. His brow furrowed as he noticed my face. “Hey, have you been crying?” He gently brushed a thumb under my eye. “I told you, it’s just an act. She’s just a little bird in a cage. I’m just curious to see how long it takes for her to finally give in.” As he spoke, something fell from his pocket. A box of condoms. Wyatt cleared his throat and rubbed his nose, offering no explanation. He led me into City Hall. It all went smoothly. I have selective mutism. When I’m around strangers or under stress, the words just won’t come out. But I can nod and shake my head. “Is this divorce voluntary?” “Yes.” I nodded. “Do you confirm the irretrievable breakdown of the marriage?” “Yes.” I nodded again. “There’s a mandatory thirty-day cooling-off period. You’ll need to return in one month to finalize.” Wyatt took the receipt. He snapped a picture of it before we’d even left the building and tapped out a message. My phone buzzed in sync. It was from Sadie, as usual. A forwarded image of the receipt from Wyatt, with his message attached: Satisfied? Now go get ready for me tonight. I tapped her profile picture and blocked her. A moment later, a flight confirmation email arrived, followed by a text. Flight booked. See you in a month. Paris is waiting. 4 That night, my dreams were full of Wyatt. The Wyatt from our childhood, his words as sweet as honey. “Josie, your eyes are so pretty. Can I look at them whenever I talk to you?” “Josie, you play the piano so beautifully. Can I come listen to your concert every day?” “Josie, I like you the most! When we grow up, I’m going to marry you!” And I loved him, too. We had to be desk partners at school, had to play together after class. I was even in his family’s car when my parents got into their accident, playing rock-paper-scissors with him. The two cars had been so close. I saw it all. The semi-truck barreling through the intersection. BOOM— My father, my mother, my older brother, even the little dog I’d had since I was a puppy… all of them, swallowed by an inferno. For a long time after that, I couldn’t make a sound. I needed Wyatt beside me just to fall asleep. He was so patient back then. He helped me practice speaking, read me stories all night long. If anyone dared to call me a “mute,” he’d meet them with a clenched fist. Marrying him felt like the most natural thing in the world. The day after I got my college diploma, he was leaning over my bed at dawn. “Josie,” he whispered, “let’s go get another certificate.” That day, we became husband and wife. In my dream, our new home was buried in a sea of crimson roses. He knelt on the bed, kissing me with such tenderness. He promised we’d be this happy for the rest of our lives. But when I woke up, the world was pitch black. I fumbled for my phone. Another text from Sadie. It was a photo. Messy, tangled sheets, and on them, a single, damning smear of crimson. A wave of nausea crashed over me. I bolted to the bathroom, retching until only bitter tears came out. I ended up curled on the cold tile, hugging my knees. I don”t know what I pressed on my phone, but in the dead silence of the night, a low, deep voice suddenly spoke. “Josephine?” My heart leaped. I snatched the phone. “Sebastian…?” 5 Sebastian was a fellow patient. After three years of therapy, my selective mutism had improved significantly. It only flared up when I was deeply upset or anxious. During the first two years of my marriage to Wyatt, I was almost completely cured. With time on my hands and a lighter heart, I had joined an online support group. My assigned partner was Sebastian. For two years, I genuinely thought he was a girl. His avatar was a pink bunny, and his screen name was “Angel.” At first, “she” barely responded to me. But I understood. People like us, burdened by years of silence, are often dealing with deep-seated trauma. We might not be able to speak, but we need someone there. So I kept sharing. My daily life, my thoughts, my small joys. I sent texts, then voice notes. Photos, then short videos. Over time, it felt like we were old friends. So much so that the first time we spoke on the phone and I discovered “she” was a man, the shock nearly triggered a relapse. “I… I’m sorry,” I stammered, clutching the phone. “Did I… wake you?” “No,” Sebastian said. “It’s nine p.m. here.” He spoke so fluently now. This was only our second phone call. After learning he was a man, I had deliberately kept my distance. The last time we’d spoken was nearly a month ago. It was pure coincidence. The moment Wyatt handed me the divorce papers, a message from Sebastian had popped up, asking what I was doing. My mind was a blank canvas, wiped clean by the words “divorce papers.” I replied with a single word: Divorce. After signing, I hid in the hallway outside Wyatt’s office, my body wracked with tremors. Sebastian, I think… I think I’m about to lose my home. No father, no mother, no brother, not even my sweet little dog. And now, no Wyatt. What was I going to do? I never expected his reply. Then just marry me. Can’t you? The mocking laughter from inside the office grew louder. “Get real. Josephine wouldn’t know how to function without Wyatt. She’d never actually go through with it.” “Yeah, if she actually had to get a divorce, she’d probably flood City Hall with her tears!” “Is that so?” Wyatt’s voice was a low sneer. He tossed his lighter onto the coffee table. “She could be sobbing her eyes out, and she’d still be my dog. If I tell her to go east, she’ll crawl there on her hands and knees.” I stared through the crack in the door at the man who had become a stranger. Yes. 6 Sebastian sent me a checklist. Things to do within the month. Applying for a visa and finding a lawyer were on it, of course. But it also included a surprisingly long list of must-try restaurants. The Chinese food abroad is terrible. Seriously. I gratefully accepted his advice, eating my way through his list, one restaurant at a time. Being alone wasn’t as hard as I’d imagined. My days were filled with food, shopping, and packing. The day I moved out of our marital home, Wyatt sent me a text. Not even a phone call? Don’t you miss me? He’d taken Sadie on a trip. To “show the girl the world,” he’d said. Naughty, he sent next. Then, a photo. This place is nice. Maybe I’ll bring you here for our anniversary? I wanted to block him, just like I’d blocked Sadie. But I still had to go back to City Hall with him to finalize the divorce, so I held back. Over the next two weeks, I sold off my smaller pieces of jewelry and handbags. I went to the doctor for a check-up and confirmed I wasn’t pregnant. Finally, I gathered all the financial assets Wyatt had entrusted to my care over the years. The night before our appointment at City Hall, Wyatt came back. He called me. “Josie, you moved out?” 7 He was used to my silence on the phone and just chuckled to himself. “Josie, you’re so adorable. I told you it was just an act.” His voice was bright, clearly in a good mood. “Tell you what. Let’s take this act all the way. How about you come with me to City Hall tomorrow and we get the final papers?” I held the phone tightly. “Josie, don’t worry, it’s just…” “Okay,” I said. “Woooooah!” A wave of whoops and hollers erupted from his side of the call. I hung up and texted him the time. The next day, I was up early. Wyatt, however, was late. A faint, but deliberate, bite mark was visible on his lip, no doubt a parting gift from Sadie. He pretended not to notice. I did the same. The process was even quicker than the first time. In and out in five minutes. “Josie, I have a surprise for you tomorrow,” Wyatt said, gently nudging my leg with his foot. I tucked the divorce decree into my purse. “Wyatt, are you free tonight?” I looked at him directly. “There are some things I need to talk to you about.” Wyatt froze. Ever since we were married, I had only ever called him “honey.” A moment later, his charming eyes curved into a smile as he tapped the red document in his hand. “Sure.”

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My boyfriend was diagnosed with Dissociative Identity Disorder. When he “switched,” a new personality would take over and date other women. But every time he “woke up,” he’d be consumed with guilt, threatening self-harm or suicide because he felt so sorry for hurting me. My heart broke for his trauma, so I forgave him every time. I worked three jobs, saving every penny to afford the best psychiatrists for him. Until one day, I ran into him at a hotpot restaurant. From the private room next door, I heard his voice loud and clear, laughing. “I should go to Hollywood, honestly. Get myself an Oscar.” “My acting was too real. Hazel is such an idiot, she actually believes I have DID. Do you know how hard it is not to laugh in her face?” It turns out he wasn’t the sick one. I was. I was blind. It took me five years to realize I was loving a monster. 1 The hotpot place was packed on the weekend. I rubbed my aching back, just catching my breath when my manager, Sarah, told me we were short-staffed and needed help in the front. I agreed and pushed through the curtain. Immediately, I heard familiar male voices. “Caleb, does your girlfriend actually buy that crap?” “Bro, we saw it with our own eyes! Caleb just puts on that sad puppy face, maybe cuts his finger a little, and that woman loses her mind. She’d practically die for him!” “Dating his first love while keeping the girlfriend on the hook… we all need to take notes from Caleb.” I hid around the corner, unconsciously rubbing my wrinkled, water-logged hands. My heart plummeted. Amidst the laughter, I heard his voice. “I should go to Hollywood, honestly. Get myself an Oscar.” “My acting was too real. Hazel is such an idiot, she actually believes I have DID. Do you know how hard it is not to laugh in her face?” His tone was pure, unadulterated smugness. In front of me, he was always insecure, sensitive, and fragile. I never imagined he had this side. “You’re ruthless, man. Hazel really loves you.” “Oh, what do you know! If it wasn’t for her, Caleb and Luna wouldn’t have wasted so many years apart due to a misunderstanding. Now that the true queen is back, we gotta support our boy!” Caleb’s face was obscured by the steam from the pot. After a pause, I heard his low chuckle. “Whatever you say.” A customer nearby needed the bill. I led them to the counter. When I returned, there was a woman at their table. Big waves, off-the-shoulder sweater, fashionable and dazzling. I recognized her instantly. Caleb’s first love. Luna. She was standing in front of him, greeting everyone with a smile. When the guys called her “Sister-in-law,” Luna blushed and looked at the man beside her. Her tone was half-annoyed, half-shy: “Caleb, aren’t you going to correct them? They’re just calling me whatever they want.” Caleb smirked. “Their mouths are on their faces. I can’t control them.” Seeing Luna’s shyness, someone teased, “Caleb gave us the green light, so just accept it, sis!” “Yeah, Caleb even got a fake psych eval for you. If that’s not love, what is?” Under the cheers, the two locked eyes. Luna lifted her delicate face. “What about her? What are you going to do?” Caleb gently tied her hair back with a hair tie, raising an eyebrow. “You know where my heart is.” “Yes, she stayed by my side when my family fell apart, but that doesn’t mean anything. You can’t confuse gratitude with love.” “And I was selfish. We missed out on so many years because of her.” “So, I planned to break up with her on her birthday. Let her hit rock bottom and really feel what it’s like to lose everything.” “You’re so bad.” Luna laughed, playfully hitting his chest before leaning into his embrace. The atmosphere was thick with flirtation. And I stood in the middle of the bustling hall, staring at their backs, feeling cold to my bones. 2 “But I can’t wait. I came to find you the moment I got back to the States. You want me to wait until her birthday?” “I don’t care. Call her and dump her right now.” Caleb laughed, pinching the cheek of the whining woman, utterly doting. “I know you’re anxious, but what if she keeps clinging to me? I need to make her give up completely. Only then can I properly visit your parents.” Luna pushed his hand away, suspicious. “What if she keeps clinging? You won’t go soft, will you?” “After all, she suffered with you. Don’t they say men never forget the woman who was there at rock bottom?” Caleb tapped her forehead lightly. “Silly. Has anyone ever told you that most men don’t want their beloved to see them at their most pathetic?” “Really?” “Of course. I worked hard to build my career just so I could get your family’s approval when you came back.” “I heard you say the food abroad sucked, so I picked this hotpot place specially. You love spicy food, right? I can’t bear to see you hungry. Here, eat first. I’ll agree to anything you want later.” Caleb thoughtfully served food onto Luna’s plate. A guy at the table dropped his chopsticks and yelled, “Waiter! Need new chopsticks!” Everyone else was busy, so Sarah shouted my name. “Hazel! Go handle Table 10!” The guy’s face changed when he saw me. He winked frantically at the person across from him. When I walked over with the chopsticks, everyone froze. Caleb reacted first. He looked at me with confusion. “Why are you staring at me? Do we know each other?” Old trick. Every time he “switched,” he pretended not to know me. I tried to stay calm, but my eyes grew hot. “I heard everything.” “Is it fun, pretending to be sick to trick me?” The man in front of me darkened, pursing his lips into silence. Luna, on the other hand, looked me up and down and sneered. “Five years, and you haven’t improved at all. He even made up such a ridiculous lie to fool you, and you were stupid enough to believe it.” I glanced at my uniform, stained with water from washing dishes. My throat burned. “What right do you have to judge me? I made money to treat his illness. You were the one who abandoned him back then.” Hearing this, Caleb pulled a pale Luna behind him. He narrowed his eyes at me. “Get this straight, Hazel. I never asked you to be nice to me. You did all that because you wanted to.” “Do you really think my breakup with Luna had nothing to do with you?” “You thought you were protecting me, but you made me lose what mattered most. You forced Luna away.” “You stole five years from us.” I stood frozen, the chopsticks slipping from my hand and clattering to the floor. Caleb avoided my gaze, his tone flat. “I’ll pay you back for everything you spent. As for your birthday, I’ll still…” I cut him off. “Do it early.” Caleb paused, looking confused. “Do what early?” “I know what you planned for my birthday. Break up early. Today.” Caleb stared at me for a long time, then chuckled. “You said it. Don’t regret it tomorrow.” There was a hint of anger in his voice. I blinked away the tears to see his face clearly. “Yeah. That’s it.” I turned around, briefly explained the situation to Sarah, and fled the scene. I didn’t notice the gaze glued to my back as I left. 3 Actually, I should have noticed sooner. His premeditated departure was evident everywhere. While packing, I found a pile of empty picture frames in the closet. Some were dusty, some moldy. After five years together, Caleb and I didn’t have a single photo together. I was a photographer. Cameras were everywhere. But he never gave me the chance. “I hate photos. I’m just not photogenic.” “Babe, I want our first photo to be our wedding photo.” He had so many excuses. Back then, overwhelmed by love, I never questioned the truth behind them. Not worth it. Not necessary. I remembered our graduation photo from years ago. Caleb blushing, squeezing next to Luna. Love and indifference are so obvious. Suffocation clawed at my chest. I stumbled to the living room, grabbed a bottle of pills from the coffee table, and swallowed a fluoxetine with trembling hands. I slid down to the carpet. Soon, the side effects hit. I rushed to the bathroom and vomited until I was weak. Standing up, I looked in the mirror. Pale, haggard, tear-stained. No different from years ago. I was born into an unhappy family. Parents divorced early, dad left for work, and I lived with my aunt and uncle. Living under someone else’s roof, I survived by reading people’s moods. But I remembered my grandma’s words: education changes fate. So I endured until high school. I consistently ranked in the top ten, but secretly, I envied one person. Luna, from Class 8. She taught me how different destinies could be. Beautiful, rich, with tutors for every subject. It seemed she could have anything she wanted with a wave of her hand. Two people from different worlds. But in our senior year, we intersected. Because of Caleb. I first met him in a secluded corner of our complex’s garden. A thin boy sitting under a flower bed, covered in bruises, face swollen. Yet he smiled and said: “This is my turf. You gotta pay the toll to stay.” I searched my pockets and found a pack of band-aids. He looked up at me, eyes black as ink. After a long pause, he took them. After that, whenever I ran away to hide there, I’d find Caleb. I learned he was like me. Maybe even worse. Alcoholic dad, gambling mom. Full debuff build. “We’re really brothers in misery.” I froze, then held his bony hand. The warmth stayed with me. I thought we were just similar souls. I never thought he’d save me. One weekend, my uncle picked me up. As soon as we got out of the car, he dragged me into the woods. When he yanked my pants down, I screamed. Caleb appeared out of nowhere, tackling my uncle and beating him bloody. After returning from the police station, he got beaten by his dad and ended up in the hospital. After that, we bonded. He told me to protect myself, at least until graduation. But four months before the entrance exams, something happened to him. The teacher thought he and Luna were dating and called the parents. It blew up. Luna was taken home by her family and never came back. That night, police and ambulances swarmed our complex. Caleb’s mom was carried out covered in blood. His dad was arrested. When I found him the next day, he was lying in bed next to an empty pill bottle. After he survived, I hugged him and cried. “If you want, I’ll be your family from now on.” He agreed. As my boyfriend. I thought two broken hearts could heal each other. But now I realize: during all those years I looked forward to our future, he was counting down the days until he could leave me. 4 But Luna was wrong about one thing. I didn’t believe Caleb’s lies because I was stupid. I believed him because I was sick too. So I could empathize with the mental torture. It wasn’t strange for someone like Caleb, with his traumatic childhood, to develop mental illness after witnessing his parents destroy each other. The first time he “switched,” his acting wasn’t even good. Thinking back, the woman I saw him meeting looked a lot like Luna. Probably her sister. When he came back, he rushed into the shower like he’d just woken up from a nightmare. He stayed in there forever. When I went in, his wrists were covered in scratches. He knelt on the floor, face full of panic and pain. “Hazel, am I sick? I don’t know why I met that woman.” “I don’t like anyone else. Don’t be mad, don’t leave me, okay?” The tears in his eyes and the red water at his feet blurred my vision. My crumbling spirit rebuilt itself into pity. So later, when he used other women as a cover, I forgave him every time. He was actually meeting Luna’s sister most of the time. Keeping in touch. Only I was the fool. I believed the fake diagnosis. I read books on DID, researched pathology, worked three jobs to save for his treatment. I wanted him to get better. But now I realize the boy who once stood in front of me has rotted to the core. I washed my face with cold water. The daze faded. Strength returned to my limbs. When the movers arrived, I had packed everything and left it in the hallway. Only his laptop remained in the study. When I moved it, I knocked over the desk calendar. A photo fell out. A yellowed graduation photo, cropped to show only Caleb and Luna smiling. My scalp tingled. The dull ache in my chest slowed. Steadying my trembling hands, I put the photo back. I turned and left the place I once called “home.” In my daze, my mind was sharp. I remembered the doctor’s words: Humans are social animals. Especially me. You have to save yourself. So I decided to move into my friend’s apartment. Reconnecting with people, I forced myself to forget the mess. When my friend Lily heard about the breakup, she encouraged me: “Unlucky in love, lucky in money. Hazel, I believe in you.” While helping me move, she saw my portfolio. That night, she invited me to join her company. “I wanted to ask before, but I thought you were too busy. Are you sure you don’t need a break?” I smiled. “I’m sure. Say the word, I’ll be there tomorrow.” Only by staying busy, by exhausting my body, could I stop the depression from drowning me at night. Looking back, I am incredibly grateful for that decision.

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“The first name on the layoff list was mine.” Helen from HR slid the paper across the desk toward me. Her nail tapped the surface. “Lydia, just sign it. We’re giving you N+1 months’ pay. It’s more than fair.” I glanced down. Employee ID 0217, Lydia. Position: Highly replaceable. The project was worth over a million dollars. I had written all 470,000 lines of code myself. “Okay.” I picked up the pen and signed my name. Helen blinked, probably surprised by how easily I agreed. “Well… about the handover. Please get it done as soon as possible.” “Okay.” I stood up and smiled. What she didn’t know was this: all the code was on my machine. The variable names were in abbreviated Spanish. The comments were lines from obscure poetry. 1. When I joined the company three years ago, there were only two people on this project team. Me and Mark. Back then, Mark wasn’t the team lead. Our desks were next to each other. He handled the front-end, and I handled the back-end. The project was called the “CloudStow Warehouse System,” a major contract for the company. The client was the largest logistics firm in the region, and the deal was worth just over a million dollars. “Lydia, how’s your Java?” That was the first thing Mark ever asked me. “It’s alright.” “How alright is ‘alright’?” I thought for a moment. “I’ve probably written around two hundred thousand lines.” Mark’s eyes lit up. “Great. You take the core modules.” “And you?” “I’ll handle the product meetings, nail down the requirements.” At the time, it seemed perfect. He wasn’t great at coding, and I wasn’t great at dealing with people. We complemented each other. It was only later I understood that “complementing each other” was just another way of saying: you do the work, he takes the credit. In the first month, I wrote thirty thousand lines of code. Mark wrote a PowerPoint deck. The first slide read: CloudStow System Technical Architecture Report — Mark. I asked him, “Shouldn’t my name be on there too?” Mark said, “You’re so good at coding, the execs will definitely remember you. The PowerPoint is just a formality.” I believed him. The second month, the CTO came to check on our progress. Mark stood in front of the projector, speaking with animated enthusiasm. He threw around terms like “architecture decoupling,” “high-availability design,” and “microservices decomposition.” He said the words more smoothly than I ever could. When he finished, the CTO nodded. “Good work, Mark.” Then he turned to him. “Do you need more people on the technical side?” Mark said, “No need. I can handle it.” I was sitting right there. The CTO didn’t even glance in my direction. At the time, I thought, It’s fine. I’m a tech person. I don’t need the spotlight. As long as the code is good, that’s what matters. Looking back, I was so naive. The third month, the team expanded. Two new graduates joined us. HR told me, “Lydia, you’re our best developer. Could you mentor the new hires?” I said sure. Their names were Sam and Rick. Fresh out of college, they still had that spark in their eyes. Sam asked me, “Lydia, are you the lead on this project? The code is beautiful.” I smiled. “Not the lead. It’s a team effort.” “But I checked the Git history. You made 80% of the commits.” Mark happened to be walking by and overheard. He clapped Sam on the shoulder. “A lot of commits doesn’t mean a lot of contribution, understand? Writing code is the basic work. The hard part is the architectural design and project management.” Sam looked at him, then back at me, and didn’t say another word. The fourth month, the project went live. During the client acceptance meeting, Mark wore a suit and stood at the head of the conference room, confidently addressing a room full of people. I was in my plaid shirt, sitting in the back row, debugging the system. The client asked, “What happens if we see a huge spike in concurrent users?” Mark replied, “Don’t worry, we’ve implemented a comprehensive load-balancing design.” The client asked again, “What’s the data backup strategy?” Mark said, “Incremental backups with off-site disaster recovery.” Every single term he used was something I had written in the technical documentation. The night we got sign-off, the department went out for dinner. Our director raised his glass. “For this project, Mark’s contribution was indispensable.” Mark lifted his glass, all humility. “It was mainly good teamwork. I just did a bit of coordination.” No one mentioned my name. I drank a lot that night. On the way home, my roommate asked, “Why so much to drink? Did you get a promotion?” “No.” “A raise?” “No.” “Then what are you celebrating?” I stood under a streetlight, looking at my own shadow. “I don’t know.” The fifth month, the company went through a reorganization. Mark was promoted to team lead. The reason given was his “outstanding performance and management potential demonstrated on the CloudStow project.” He got his own office, a better desk, and an extra five hundred dollars a month in a management stipend. I was still in the same corner, at a desk not much bigger than an intern’s. HR sat me down for my annual review. “Lydia, your salary increase this year is 3%.” I asked, “What about Mark?” HR paused. “I’m… not at liberty to disclose that.” I later heard from Sam that Mark got a 12% raise. I wrote 80% of the code and got a 3% raise. He wrote 100% of the PowerPoints and got a 12% raise. Seemed fair. The sixth month, another new grad, Chris, joined. HR told me, “Lydia, you’re on.” So I mentored him. The first day, I showed him how to set up his development environment. The second day, I taught him how to read the codebase. The third day, he asked me, “Lydia, how much do you make?” I said, “Why do you ask?” “My offer was for $95k. I’m just curious what I can expect to make after three years.” I went quiet for a moment. I made $92k. A fresh graduate was making more than me. That night, for the first time, I couldn’t sleep. At three in the morning, staring at the ceiling, I asked myself: What am I even doing this for? I was the best programmer. I wrote the most code. I mentored the most people. But when it came to promotions, I was overlooked. For raises, I was forgotten. They didn’t even invite me to the team-building events. I remembered the team outing last week. Sam posted pictures on Instagram. A dozen people from the department at a barbecue joint in the countryside. Mark had his arm around a new intern, smiling broadly. I asked Mark about it. “Why wasn’t I invited to the team thing?” Mark said, “Weren’t you fixing that bug? I figured you were busy, so I didn’t want to bother you.” “Just let me know next time.” “Sure, sure. Next time, definitely.” Next time was always next time. 2. The seventh month was the annual performance review. Everyone had to write a year-end summary and present it to the entire department for ten minutes. I wrote an 8-slide deck. CloudStow Warehouse System core module development. 470,000 lines of code. 127 version iterations. 120,000 average daily orders processed. Mark wrote a 35-slide deck. The title was: From 0 to 1: How I Led a Team to Deliver a Million-Dollar Project. He stood on the stage, his delivery full of passion and emotion. “When this project first started, there were only two of us. Me and Lydia.” He said my name. I was a little surprised. “Lydia was responsible for the foundational code implementation, while I was responsible for the overall technical architecture and project management.” Foundational code implementation. He called 470,000 lines of code “foundational code implementation.” He continued, “We faced many challenges, but under my coordination, the team overcame every hurdle, one by one.” He said “my coordination” five times. He said “team collaboration” three times. He never mentioned my name again. The CTO listened, then nodded. “Mark, your management skills have improved significantly.” Then it was my turn. I stood on stage and got through my 8 slides in four minutes. The CTO asked, “Lydia, how are the coding standards?” I said, “Every function is commented, and all naming conventions follow camel case.” The CTO asked again, “What about unit test coverage?” I said, “82%.” The CTO nodded and said nothing more. When the final performance ratings came out, Mark got an ‘A’. I got a ‘B+’. “Lydia, your annual bonus multiplier is 1.2,” HR said. “And Mark’s?” HR didn’t answer. I found out later that Mark’s multiplier was 2.5. My bonus was $18,000. His was $50,000. Same project, same department, same year. He got $32,000 more than I did. That night, I sat alone at my desk until 11 PM. Sam messaged me. “Lydia, why are you still here?” I replied, “Fixing a bug.” “What bug?” “A bug in my head.” Sam sent back a question mark. I didn’t reply. The eighth month, the system had a major crash. At two in the morning, the client called. Thirty thousand orders had vanished from the database. My phone blew up. Mark called me: “Lydia, figure out what’s wrong!” The client called me: “Lydia, can the data be recovered?” The CTO called me: “This is a production incident! It has to be solved tonight!” I crawled out of bed and opened my laptop. I went through the logs line by line, checked the code block by block. At 3:30 AM, I found the cause. It was a configuration file Mark had changed last week. He’d entered the wrong parameter for the database connection pool. I took a screenshot, ready to post it in the group chat. Then I hesitated and deleted it. I spent the next two hours writing a data recovery script, pulling all thirty thousand orders from the backup database. At 5:30 AM, the data was fully restored. I messaged Mark: “It’s fixed.” He replied instantly: “Great! Thanks for your hard work.” Then he sent a message to the group chat: “Good morning, leadership. The incident from last night has been resolved. After investigation, it was a configuration conflict caused by a temporary server expansion. Lydia and I have completed the data recovery work together. We will optimize our deployment process to prevent similar issues in the future.” “Lydia and I together.” I had worked alone for three and a half hours. He had slept through the night. He called that “together.” The next day, the CTO praised him in the main company chat: “Regarding last night’s incident, Mark’s handling was decisive and minimized the losses.” Mark replied: “It was all thanks to great teamwork.” No one asked who was the person writing code at three in the morning. I sat at my desk, reading the messages, and suddenly felt so tired. Not physically tired. It was the kind of exhaustion that leaves a hollow space in your chest. Sam quietly asked me, “Lydia, why didn’t you tell them you did it all by yourself?” I said, “What good would that do?” “At least… management would know.” “And then what?” Sam fell silent. 3. The ninth month, a new project manager joined the company. Her name was Sarah. She was in her mid-thirties and had previously worked at a major tech firm. On her first day, she came over to talk to me. “You’re Lydia, right? I heard you wrote the CloudStow system.” I said, “Not just me. It was a team effort.” “I looked at the Git history. 80% of it is you.” I was taken aback. She smiled. “I judge people by their work, not their PowerPoints.” In that moment, I felt like I was going to cry. Three years. For the first time, someone actually saw me. But Sarah was just a project manager. She had no say in the engineering department. The tenth month, Phase Two of the CloudStow project was kicking off. The client added another $200,000 to the budget for a new intelligent scheduling system. In the planning meeting, Mark beat his chest. “My team can do this. Give me three months.” The CTO asked, “Who’s handling the technical design?” Mark said, “I’ll oversee it, and Lydia will be responsible for the specific implementation.” There it was again. He oversees, I implement. He presents, I work overtime. I said nothing. Back at my desk, I started writing the technical design document. Two weeks later, it was done. 42 pages. Mark glanced at it. “Looks good. I’ll just add some management perspective and then run it by the CTO.” His “management perspective” was changing “Lydia will be responsible for development” to “The technical team will be responsible for development.” And adding his name to the cover. I didn’t say a word. The eleventh month, Phase Two development was in full swing. That month, I worked 120 hours of overtime. An average of four extra hours every single day. My longest stretch was 38 consecutive hours. I slept on a cot at the office. And how many hours did Mark work? Eight. All of them were spent taking clients out to dinner. At the end of the month, the CTO came to check on our progress. Mark opened the Jira board. “Sir, as you can see, all tasks are proceeding according to plan.” The CTO asked, “Who wrote the algorithm for the intelligent scheduling?” Mark said, “I designed the framework, and the team implemented it together.” I sat nearby, typing on my keyboard, not saying a single word. The CTO glanced at me. “Lydia, how’s the coding coming along?” I said, “The core module is 80% complete.” “And the quality?” “Unit test coverage is at 85%. No production bugs so far.” The CTO nodded, saying nothing more. Then he looked back at Mark. “Mark, I’m recommending you for this year’s Employee of the Year award.” Mark smiled humbly. “Thank you, sir. It’s really all thanks to the team’s hard work.” That night, I sat alone at a convenience store downstairs until one in the morning. I bought a can of beer but never opened it. 4. The twelfth month, the year-end layoff list was released. Two spots from the engineering department. HR called me in for a talk. “Lydia, the company isn’t doing well right now, as you know.” “Are you saying you’re laying me off?” “It’s not a layoff, it’s a workforce optimization. We’re giving you N+1 months’ pay. It’s more than fair.” I looked at her face and suddenly wanted to laugh. “Why me?” “Lydia, it’s a tough economic climate. The company has no choice.” “I’m asking, why me.” HR hesitated. “Your position has been deemed… highly replaceable.” Highly replaceable. 470,000 lines of code. A million-dollar project. I was the only person in the entire company who could maintain it. “Highly replaceable.” “Who said that?” HR didn’t answer. She didn’t have to. I knew who it was. I went to find Mark. He was in his office, staring at his computer. I knocked. “Mark.” He looked up. His face held an expression I couldn’t quite place. “Lydia. You heard?” “I want to know why it was me.” Mark sighed, putting on a show of reluctance. “Lydia, I didn’t make the list. It came from upper management.” “Who submitted the recommendation list?” He was silent for a second. “It was a departmental discussion.” “And the result of this discussion was to lay off the person who wrote 80% of the code?” Mark’s tone shifted. “Lydia, don’t try to take all the credit. The code is a team product, not your personal achievement.” I stared into his eyes. “Then what about the team lead position? The 12% raise? The ‘A’ performance rating? Was that the team’s, or was it just yours?” He didn’t speak. “Three years, Mark. I was the one working overtime. I was the one fixing the bugs. I was the one writing the code. But the credit was yours, the bonus was yours, and the promotion was yours.” “And now, the layoff is mine.” Mark leaned back in his chair, his voice turning cold. “Lydia, I know you feel it’s unfair. But have you ever considered why you ended up in this position?” “Go on.” “Because you don’t know how to sell yourself.” He looked at me, enunciating every word. “What good is writing great code if management never sees it? Did you really think you could get promoted just by keeping your head down and working? You’re too naive.” “In this industry, there are tons of people who can do the work. The hard part? It’s making people see your value.” He stood up and patted my shoulder. “Lydia, I’m telling you this for your own good. You have the skills, but your communication, your presentation abilities… they need work.” I pushed his hand away. “Are you finished, Mark?” “Yes.” “Then let me tell you something.” I looked him straight in the eye, my voice perfectly calm. “The core code of the CloudStow system has no useful documentation.”

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The cold medicine Kellan gave me was burning a hole in my gut. Victoria, the eldest, a Chief of Surgery known as “The Top Scalpel of Manhattan,” declared I needed an immediate stomach pump. Aaliyah, my childhood sweetheart and fiancée, was screaming, her voice raw. “I just want my husband back!” My three sisters’ eyes were raw with unshed tears. “It’s okay, Dev. Sleep it off. We have the best doctors and the best meds right here.” In that moment of searing, agonizing pain, I was overwhelmingly grateful that the people who loved me were all around me. Then, as I waited for the anesthesia to kick in, I heard their voices just outside the door. Victoria’s tone carried a chilling, almost excited edge. “Devon is perfectly healthy, and his blood type and age are an exact match. This is a rare opportunity. We’ll just perform the heart transplant for Kellan while we’re at it.” Sasha, the CEO, agreed immediately. “I’ll make sure all the evidence is destroyed. Devon won’t ever know.” Elise, the pharmaceutical professor, chimed in, her voice clinical. “I’ll go back to the lab and formulate a highly potent suppressant. It will ensure Devon doesn’t suffer when we replace the faulty heart.” A long moment of silence passed before Aaliyah’s voice, thick with relief, cut through the quiet. “Kellan genuinely needs a strong heart to achieve his music dreams, and as for Devon… we can just shower him with compensation later… I’ll sign the surgical consent form now.” I felt as if my entire body had been plunged into an icy bath. My chest constricted, a phantom pain that felt as if someone had already gutted me and brutally ripped the organ out. At that moment, a familiar yet strangely detached electronic voice cut in: [ALERT! Monitoring a threat to the Host’s life force!] [Final confirmation: Are you truly willing to forfeit all rewards and remain in this world?] I laughed, a silent, internal sob. This time, their counterfeit love couldn’t hold me here anymore. … I tried to thrash and roll off the bed, but the nurse expertly shoved the intubation tube down my throat and nose as a massive dose of anesthetic flooded my system. Before my consciousness completely fractured into darkness, I saw him being wheeled in: Kellan, the cherished adopted younger brother who had poisoned me—my heart failure was meant to be his salvation. Victoria, scalpel in hand, gave the nurses a chilling instruction. “Forget about Devon for now. Prep his heart for Kellan’s transplant.” I felt the knife’s edge bite through layers of tissue, and in my last fragment of wakefulness, I heard Tori’s murmur. “Just hold on, Kellan. When you wake up, you’ll finally be able to shine on stage.” When I regained lucidity, my first thought was to confirm with the System. [If my physical body dies, I return to my original world, my heart condition cured, and I get a hundred million dollars, right?] [Confirmed.] The bitter irony of it was hilarious. I had agreed to cross over and “save” these four women fifteen years ago because I couldn’t afford to treat my own congenital heart disease. And now, the four women I spent fifteen years saving were trading my heart out for a sick one. I didn’t hesitate. I ripped the oxygen tube from my face. Breathing instantly became a desperate, agonizing struggle. My throat tightened as if it were being choked, and no amount of air would reach my lungs. My face went purple; I was seconds from suffocation. Yet, a faint, peaceful smile touched my lips. Death was a blessing. I wouldn’t have to live another day facing their exquisite lie of love. The heart monitor screamed a frantic, piercing alarm. My three sisters and Aaliyah burst through the door with a team of nurses. “Devon!” they screamed. Tori immediately performed CPR, saving my life. Once the oxygen mask was back in place, her eyes were bloodshot as she roared. “Are you insane? Why would you pull out your oxygen tube?” Aaliyah knelt by the bed, tears streaming down her face as she slapped herself repeatedly. “Blame me, Devon. It was my fault. I asked Kellan to bring you the medicine that day.” “I thought it was just for your cold. I didn’t realize you were severely allergic and that the toxins attacked your heart directly.” “But don’t worry, darling. Tori is the best doctor in the country. She’ll fix you.” She crawled toward me on her knees, desperately gripping my hand. “I’ve already had the consulting doctor punished—she’s been blacklisted from the industry. Don’t blame Kellan, and don’t do this to yourself. You have so many people who love you!” Seeing my silence, Sasha spoke, her voice strained. “She’s right, Dev. I’ve already contacted every hospital overseas. We’ll find a suitable donor heart for you, fast.” Elise gently patted my arm. “I’m heading back to the lab now. I’ll develop a customized treatment plan that will have you breathing easy and back to normal soon.” I felt a profound, chilling cold. How utterly pathetic. They thought a few flimsy lies would erase the fact that Kellan poisoned me, that they planned to steal my heart, and that they had already begun the surgical process. A mocking smile stretched across my lips as I looked at the four women surrounding my bed. “Where is Kellan? I want to ask him myself.” Tori’s brows furrowed. “You’re still going to blame Kellan? He had a massive heart episode from the guilt, and we barely saved him by rushing to find an emergency donor.” Elise, who had doted on me the most since I was a child, rushed to intervene. “Sweetheart, stop this now. Focus on getting well. Tori saved Kellan; she’ll fix you too.” I let out a soft, dry laugh. “How convenient. Surgery at the same time, my heart fails, and Kellan just happened to find a donor?” The room fell into a heavy, dead silence. “Devon…” Tori began, her face unreadable. I was too exhausted for their lies. I forced another small smile. “Just kidding. Go check on Kellan. I’m happy he’s better, too.” My sisters froze, wanting to argue, but I simply pulled the blanket over my head. When I uncovered my face, the sisters were gone, but Aaliyah remained, her eyes filled with guilt. I smiled blandly. “Go check on him for me, please. Tell me how my little brother is doing when you get back.” She finally turned and left, her steps quick and decisive. Finally alone, I slowly exhaled. My hand trembled as I unlocked my phone. Before the surgery, I had used the single wish the System owed me to retrieve two video clips. I watched the clips, my gaze fixed on the screen, compulsively replaying the moment they conspired to replace my heart. I watched Tori’s cold, professional removal of my heart and its careful placement into Kellan. The blood in my veins ran ice cold. I felt a sudden, fierce gratitude that I hadn’t died just yet. Because leaving them this easily would be too kind. During my hospitalization, they ensured one of them was with me every day, but they’d always rush off. I assumed they were truly busy. One day, needing the restroom, I found myself unattended. I unhooked my IV stand and slowly shuffled toward the bathroom. Passing a room, I glanced through the window and saw Aaliyah, who had rushed off to a crucial board meeting, carefully feeding a gourmet potsticker to Kellan. My three “swamped” sisters were also there, watching him with indulgent smiles. Tori’s voice, though firm, was loving. “Kellan, you can’t pig out just because you’re recovering. Those potstickers are too rich.” Kellan playfully tugged on her pristine lab coat and whined sweetly. “I can’t help it! Sasha’s cooking is the best.” He then complained. “It’s annoying having all of you hovering around me every day. I can’t even sneak any extra treats.” I dug my nails into my palm, forcing a self-deprecating smile. I had been eating bland, takeout congee for days. Kellan was getting gourmet meals, personally cooked by Sasha, surrounded by all of them. I turned stiffly to return to my room, only to overhear a hushed conversation between two nurses outside the station. “I heard the Maxwells’ actual son is the one I’m taking care of. Doctor Maxwell is ruthless—she specifically told me to keep him on a strict regimen of nutrient injections. She’s keeping him healthy to use as a walking blood bank, in case Master Kellan has a severe rejection reaction and needs a full-body blood exchange.” I froze mid-step. The incisions on my chest and abdomen felt like they were tearing open again. The pain was paralyzing. How did it come to this? I remember a time when a simple scrape would send Tori into a panic. She had gone to medical school specifically to ensure she could take better care of me. Sasha and Elise were no different. When I first arrived, my health was frail, and I was constantly sick. When I was near death once, they had walked up the steps of the city’s grandest cathedral on their knees, praying for my health and offering massive charitable donations for good karma. After I recovered, Sasha, who had been an aimless socialite, plunged into the business world, desperately building a fortune to pay for my treatments. Elise abandoned her art studies and switched to pharmacology, aiming to formulate a better, less bitter medication for me. To accrue more good fortune, they even rescued Aaliyah Stone, a brilliant but penniless orphan caught in a blizzard, and brought her into our lives. The entire city knew that Devon Maxwell was born under a lucky star, having three sisters who worshipped the ground he walked on and Aaliyah, the tech prodigy, who was his devoted fiancée. As an orphan, I had desperately clung to this overwhelming, intoxicating affection. After completing the System’s mission to “save” them, I refused the reward, choosing to stay with my sisters and Aaliyah. But then Kellan arrived. The day they brought him home, my three sisters hugged me and swore. “Devon, he just looks so much like Dad, and he has the same heart defect. We can’t just ignore him.” “Don’t worry, sweetheart. We’re adopting him to bring you good karma. You’re still our one and only center of the universe.” I believed them. I genuinely wanted to embrace him. To show my goodwill, I gave him my room. I always reminded the sisters to bring him a gift when they traveled. Feeling bad that his heart condition kept him from doing much, I even brought him along on most of Aaliyah’s and my dates. Gradually, Kellan cemented his place in the family. He’d proactively charm the sisters for favors and gifts. He’d playfully bicker with Aaliyah. But slowly, subtly, their attitude toward me began to shift. If Kellan stumbled near me, Tori would immediately snap, “Did you hurt Kellan?” Sasha, on the rare occasion she cooked, made only Kellan’s favorite spicy Sichuan dishes. Elise’s research priority shifted to creating a miracle cure for Kellan’s heart. Even Aaliyah, during an argument, snapped. “Why can’t you be more like your brother and just ask me for what you want?” And finally… they conspired to steal my heart for him. The emotional swell of pain returned, and it felt like my heart was being scooped out all over again. I wanted to escape the house of horrors, but moving too fast, I slipped. The surgical wounds on my chest and stomach tore open. In the blinding agony, I curled into a ball. My mind fractured, and I let out a desperate, instinctive whimper. “Sister…” Just before I blacked out, I saw my sisters and Aaliyah rushing toward me. Tori reached me first, hoisting me up, her voice sharp with anger. “Devon Maxwell! Did you see us with Kellan and decide to hurt yourself again just to get attention?!” I was discharged and placed under strict watch by a home nurse, forbidden from leaving or doing anything to harm myself. I was confined to a wheelchair, too weak to move, and dependent on help even for the bathroom. Meanwhile, Kellan was running and jumping with abandon. Aaliyah held her phone, taking a video of him. My sisters watched him, their faces glowing with proud, affectionate smiles. Bored and heavy-hearted, I tried to wheel myself away. “Ouch!” Thump. Kellan fell. “Kellan!” The four women rushed to him, helping him up immediately. He pointed a finger at a small metal lock that had fallen from my wheelchair onto the floor, his voice thick with tears. “Brother, I know you blame me for the medicine, and I know you’re jealous that my heart is fixed while yours is still failing, but…” He burst into sobs. “But I’m finally able to move around! How could you throw something down to trip me on purpose?” Tori quickly examined Kellan’s leg, gently rubbing his slightly scraped skin. Sasha’s face turned an ugly shade of gray, a vein throbbing in her forehead. “Devon Maxwell! What have we taught you? How could you become so malicious?” The others glared at me, their faces a mix of confusion and pure rage. My fractured heart felt like it had been stabbed twice more. I whispered. “I… I didn’t! That piece fell off the wheel yesterday…” “Don’t you dare try to lie your way out of this! We’ve indulged you too much!” Sasha’s fury was overwhelming. She raised her hand to strike me. Just as her hand flew toward my face, Aaliyah stepped in to block it. “Sasha, Devon has been through so much trauma lately. We need to give him time.” Elise pulled Sasha back gently. “Let it go. Kellan, didn’t you want to try that new French bistro? Let’s take you out to celebrate your recovery.” Her eyes turned cold as she looked at me. “As for you, go reflect on your behavior!” Aaliyah tried to stay, but Kellan rushed up and grabbed her hand right in front of me, shaking it pleadingly. “Aaliyah, please come with me! You promised to take me out to dinner if I was brave enough for the surgery!” Aaliyah’s face tightened. “I need to stay with your brother… he…” I stared at their hands, subtly intertwined, and spoke, my voice hoarse. “Since your brother wants you to go, then go.” Aaliyah patted my head gently. “I’ll be back soon, darling. Be good at home. I’ll bring you your favorite lobster bisque.” But I woke up at 3 AM. The side of the bed was empty. Aaliyah had not returned all night. The mansion was dark, except for the dim light spilling from Kellan’s room. His door was slightly ajar. As I wheeled closer, I heard a man’s and a woman’s voice. Aaliyah’s voice was low and breathless. “Easy, baby. Not so fast. You’re still recovering…” Kellan’s voice, thick with emotion, cut in. “My heart is fixed now. When are you finally going to divorce him? I met you first! You were always mine!” Aaliyah’s soft, velvety murmur followed. “You’re my true love, baby. But… Devon saved my life. I can’t abandon him, and besides, Tori needs his blood in case you have a rejection reaction.” I felt a bucket of ice water poured over my head, the chill sinking to my bones. My hand shook as I clutched my phone, leaning my head back against the cold wall, my eyes closed. The entire night, I listened to them—the laughter, the breathless entanglement, the declarations of twisted love. The next morning, my three sisters were about to leave for work and saw me leaning against Kellan’s door. “Devon, why are you out here?” I beckoned them closer, then burst into Kellan’s room. As the three sisters gasped in astonishment, I tore the duvet from the bed and took several rapid-fire photos of the two people naked and entangled beneath it. Aaliyah screamed, scrambling to cover Kellan, her face a mask of terror. “Devon Maxwell! What in God’s name are you doing!” I clutched my chest, gasping for air, and hissed. “What am I doing? What do you call lying naked in bed with my brother, my wife?” Aaliyah’s face changed. “Last night… there was a storm. Kellan was scared and asked me to stay.” Kellan’s face was deathly white. He wrapped the duvet around himself and knelt on the floor, grabbing my sleeve. “Brother, I’m so sorry. I was just… too terrified last night, so I reached out to Aaliyah.” Tori immediately pulled him up. “Aaliyah must have been drinking last night and walked into the wrong room by mistake.” Sasha instantly backed her up. “It’s normal. When Kellan was little and afraid, I used to sleep in his room, too.” I slowly turned to Elise. She laughed nervously. “They’re right, Dev. Kellan would never do this.” Why were they so blindly biased toward Kellan? I was shaking with helpless rage. I raised my phone. “I have the audio of your glorious night right here. Shall I play it for my sisters?” Kellan stared at the phone in horror, then suddenly turned pale, gasping for breath. “Sister… I can’t breathe.” “You are not going to fake it!” SMACK! Tori’s palm connected hard with my face, sending me sprawling to the floor. I covered my stinging cheek, looking up at Tori in disbelief. “Why are you looking at me like that? If you hadn’t agitated him, Kellan wouldn’t have collapsed!” She rushed Kellan to the family emergency room. “Hurry! Bring Devon in, too! We need his blood to save Kellan now!” Sasha and Elise dragged me into the sterile room. Panic washed over me. I thrashed and shivered uncontrollably, kicking my legs and trying to crawl backward. “Please, no… don’t…” Aaliyah held the large-gauge syringe, her expression unsettled. “Kellan is like this because you provoked him. Isn’t it the least you can do to give him some blood?” Sasha and Elise held me down tightly. Looking into their resolute, cold eyes, I realized the struggle was pointless. I closed my eyes in resignation and slowly extended my arm. My voice was quiet. “Take it. Draw every last drop from my body. Save your precious Kellan.” Elise quickly averted her gaze, covering my eyes. Her voice was weak. “Be a good boy, Devon. Just a little blood. It won’t hurt.” An hour later, Tori stabilized Kellan. The four women sighed in collective relief. Tori removed her mask, her voice cutting and cold. “Alright, Devon Maxwell. Now we can properly address the matter of you intentionally causing Kellan to collapse.” She turned to face me—and all four of them stopped dead. I was curled up on the adjacent gurney, unmoving. A surgical scalpel was plunged deep into my chest. The gushing blood had soaked the sheets and stained the clean tile floor crimson.

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I, a Trust Fund Baby, developed only one hobby after marriage: playing Mahjong. Who knew I would lose three Manhattan Condos in half a year. This day, I was indecisive between the One Wan (10,000) and Eight Wan (80,000) tiles, when suddenly a tender voice came from my belly. “Mommy! Quick! Only playing One Wan can break the game! Otherwise, we are really done for!” I was stunned for a moment, immediately followed by a string of weird floating comments flashing across my eyes. [Don’t listen! Play Eight Wan! One Wan is a death cannon tile, the opponent has a full flush and is waiting for One Wan single wait!] [Play it and you lose a top-spec Porsche Panamera! Your monthly allowance isn’t enough to cover it!] [If you lose again this time, your dad definitely won’t give you allowance anymore!] I was completely confused, who should I believe? Chapter 1 I stroked my slightly protruding belly, gaze wandering between One Wan and Eight Wan. “Mommy! Play One Wan quickly! This is the only chance!” The tender voice came from my belly again, with unquestionable firmness. I looked down, saw the left side of my belly bulge slightly, as if the baby inside was waving anxiously. But immediately after, the floating comments appeared before my eyes again. [Don’t believe! Play Eight Wan! If you lose again, your dad won’t give you allowance!] I bit my lip lightly, falling into a dilemma. Yes. My dad said, lose again, and he will confiscate my monthly 8-figure allowance. “Mommy don’t be afraid,” baby’s voice sounded again, “As long as we win this round, Grandpa will definitely look at you with new eyes!” “Baby, are you sure?” I lowered my voice asking. Left belly bulged again. I remembered my mom’s words. When my mom was pregnant with me, my dad’s luck reached its peak, sweeping Las Vegas casinos, earning the name “God of Gamblers”. Maybe, my Chan family bloodline is really destined from the fetus stage. Thinking of this, I made up my mind. Daughter of the dignified Poker King Mr. Chan, how can I not win against these few ordinary women?! I took a deep breath, gently pushed out the tile. “One Wan!” Seeing me drop the tile, opponent Sister-in-law Brenda’s eyes lit up. She stared at that One Wan, fingers constantly rubbing the tiles in hand, but delayed action. At this time, strange floating comments emerged again. [Done, completely done! Chloe actually really played One Wan!] Hearing this, my brows frowned deeper. Did I really play wrong? But next second, Brenda picked up a new tile. Didn’t even look, directly played it out. “Eight Wan.” “Mahjong (Hu)!” I was overjoyed, pushed down the tiles. “Full flush plus All Pungs! Big win, 9 fan!” Brenda’s face turned iron green, Sister-in-law Tiffany (husband’s sister) bit her lip tight, and that accompanying friend Vicky looked at me deeply. Just then, baby in belly came giggling laughter. “Mommy, I didn’t say wrong right? Keep Eight Wan, play One Wan, we won.” I stroked my belly with satisfaction, secretly delighted. Sure enough, our old Chan family children, carry luck from the womb. Floating comments surged like tide again. [Impossible! Opponent clearly waiting for One Wan! Why not win but play Eight Wan?] [Fraud! Absolutely fraud!] [Chloe! Wake up, this game is wrong!] I automatically ignored these annoying texts, gathered the chips into my arms. At night I brought home the hard-won trophies, but saw my usually late-returning husband in the living room. “Congratulations, luck so good today.” I froze. Married for half a year, Jason never came home before 10 PM. More importantly, he never actively asked about my mahjong games. Just then, floating comments appeared again. [Because he is monitoring you!] [Chloe, your husband doesn’t love you at all, he married you just for the Chan family money!] My heart tightened. He doesn’t love me? Baby in belly immediately retorted, “Mommy, Daddy loves you! To marry you, he knelt in snow for three days and nights, almost froze off his legs! Did you forget all these?” I didn’t forget. That winter was especially cold, snow very thick, one step down, up to knees. Jason knelt at my door, snow covering his shoulders. Father stood in front of the second-floor window, watching this scene, said coldly, “Let him kneel, see how much sincerity this poor boy has!” Three days later, Jason was sent to the hospital, legs almost amputated. I cried begging father, finally exchanged for a marriage. “I heard you won a lot today, if Dad knows, he must be very happy.” I instantly alert, “You have contact with my dad?” After I married Jason, my dad except giving me living expenses monthly, didn’t say an extra word. Floating comments crazily scrolling now. [He is lying! Chloe, don’t believe him!] But baby in belly comforted me. “Mommy, Daddy is worried about you. You can’t be suspicious, it’s not good for baby me either.” I nodded, “I’m tired, going upstairs to rest first.” Chapter 2 Next week, I turned on winning streak mode. “Thirteen Orphans!” “Kong on Kong!” “Wait! I directly Heaven Mahjong!” Every time, baby would give precise reminders when I hesitated, while floating comments constantly warned me game was rigged. But I chose to believe the bloodline in belly. Until this day, after I slaughtered all sides again, Brenda pushed tiles directly, face full of unhappiness. “Not playing not playing, always losing, so boring!” Card table instantly quiet. I slowly leaned back on chair, stroking won chips. In short 7 days, not only won back three condos, but also added two downtown shops. Speaking of which, playing mahjong was initially insisted by them dragging me along. When I just married husband, besides shopping, had no other hobbies. It was Brenda and Tiffany lobbying me, saying mahjong is much more interesting than shopping. After that, they two plus one of Tiffany’s besties Vicky formed a group, playing mahjong daily. Didn’t expect, first month down, I actually lost all 8-figure allowance my dad gave. Among them Brenda won the most. Big brother who was originally driving Uber, directly changed to a Porsche 911. Thinking of this, my tone instantly cold down. “If sister-in-law feels boring then stop playing, but today’s lost 2 million needs to be transferred to me.” Words out, Brenda’s face changed instantly, tone softened. “Chloe, look, aren’t we all relatives, besides, I didn’t bring so much money out.” I sneered in heart. Usually when I lost tens, they all stared at me to go home get money. Finally turn for them to lose once, changed like a person. “Sister-in-law, this month, you won no less than ten million from me, plus a detached villa! Just 2 million can’t take out?” Perhaps realized my face not good, hurried explain. “Ai, Chloe, I don’t mean that. I mean, you wait for me, I gather a bit.” I completely cold face. “No need, didn’t Big Brother just buy a Porsche? I see it parked at door, you give me car keys is fine.” Words out, Brenda instantly unhappy. “That’s your Big Brother’s car, why give you?” I laughed angrily on spot. “Because you lost money no pay ah, can’t default right?” She instantly annoyed, eyes looked at Tiffany opposite. “Little sister, shouldn’t you say something? You also lost eight hundred thousand.” Little sister just about to speak, interrupted by me. “That new Patek Philippe watch on her hand leave behind is fine, barely offset eight hundred thousand.” Hearing this, Little Sister instantly screamed out. “What? I won’t give! This is what my brother queued long time abroad to buy for me!” I sneered hooking lips. “Your brother’s money was also given by me!” Back then my dad bitter mouth kind heart, advised me find a matching family. Although Jason motivated, but family background thin. Besides elderly weak parents, there are lazy brother sister-in-law and a sister already graduated college several years still biting old. Just then, baby in belly suddenly whispered persuasion. “Mommy, they are Daddy’s family after all, don’t make it too stiff.” My brows twisted. This is first time baby spoke for outsiders. Floating comments seized opportunity crazy output. [See! Even child in your belly helping them speak! Have you still not found problem?] I sank eyes, didn’t speak. “Alright,” Brenda suddenly sat down again, “One last game, one game decides winner, you win, we return principal plus interest, you lose, today’s money write off at one stroke!” Hearing this, baby in belly cheered again, “Mommy, agree her, we definitely can win!” Floating comments wailed: [Done! They definitely going to cheat!] [Chloe! Don’t agree ah, this is simply a trap!] I stroked abdomen, trying hard to feel bloodline power from inside. “Fine! Deal cards.” Chapter 3 Game starts. This time, baby unusually quiet. “Baby?” I called in heart, but belly no reaction. Cards passed three rounds, my hand shape gradually clear, Mixed Suit, single wait Seven Wan. And on table, already two Seven Wan out. “Mommy, play Three Bamboo.” Baby’s voice sounded again. At this moment floating comments scrolling crazy. [Play Seven Wan! Waiting on Three Six Bamboo!] “No, play Three Bamboo, wait for Seven Wan!” [Chloe! Don’t trust baby, it’s harming you!] “Mommy, play Three Bamboo, trust me.” Baby’s voice carried a trace of pleading. I closed eyes, father’s words sounded in ear. “At gambling table, least trustworthy is own intuition. Because your intuition, often is what others want you to have.” “Three Bamboo.” I pushed card slowly. Air instantly solidified. Brenda eyes lit up, slapped table hard. “Hu le! Fourteen Fan!” She excitedly pushed cards down. “Full flush Bamboo, Seven Pairs, just waiting for a Three Bamboo.” My brain blank. Fourteen Fan. According to our agreed double rule, I not only have to return today’s winning chips, but also pay extra 4 million. “According to our agreement just now, it’s ‘all debts written off’, right?” I nodded stiffly. “Then not just today,” she smiled looking at me, “It’s all debts this week.” I stood up fiercely, “What did you say?!” “I said, three condos in Manhattan, shops in downtown, and all cash, jewelry, antiques you lost to us before…” Brenda counting fingers. “All written off. Of course, this 4 million you owe us finally, we also show mercy, don’t want it.” “You crazy!” My voice trembling, “That’s dowry my parents gave me!” “Willing to gamble willing to lose, you wouldn’t not know even this rule right?” Brenda’s smile expanding constantly. My face iron green, just at this time, phone rang. I tremblingly picked up, father’s cold voice came from that end: “Chloe, I say one last time, if you touch cards again, never enter Chan family door again.” Phone hanging up busy tone echoed in ear. At night, Jason rarely brought a bouquet home. I frowned, subconsciously avoided flower scent. “Wifey, don’t be angry, Father-in-law Mother-in-law definitely in fit of anger, father daughter no overnight feud.” Floating comments: [Wow, Chloe’s husband indeed scheming!] I looked up at him, “How do you know what my parents said on phone?” He froze an instant, expression changed suddenly. “Because Father-in-law called me just now, told me.” Floating comments: [Then check his phone right now!] I reached out, “Then show me your phone.” Husband instantly cold face. “What? You think I lying to you? Then call your dad ask.” Hearing this, I immediately shook head, felt I thought too much, actually suspecting husband. Seeing I not speak, husband expression also softened a lot. “Wifey, all own family, if you really unhappy, tomorrow I let them return winning gambling capital to you.” I shook head, “That no need.” Hearing this, he sighed relief, but next second heard me speak. “Hubby, can you give me another 20 million.” Floating comments all felt I crazy. [Is Chloe crazy ah? Clear they setting up trap, still sending money?] [Yeah, didn’t her parents say just now, if she gamble again, cut ties completely!] [That means, she not only loses monthly 8-figure allowance, billion inheritance also no chance?] Husband eyes flashed a trace obscure look, “You… still want gamble?” I nodded, eyes firm, “And, you have to accompany me!” Chapter 4 Game officially starts, Brenda first pushed a paper agreement to me. “Rules very simple.” “This is list of all our gambling capital, plus all assets under your name. One game decides winner, winner takes all.” I scanned list. Jason’s old house, 10% shares of Chan Group, my parents’ overseas real estate… list shockingly long. Floating comments crazy warning: [Run! Run now! They definitely calculated cheating] Baby in belly unusually excited: “Mommy, sign! We can win! Win and all this is ours!” I lifted pen, signed my name at end of agreement. Game starts. This time, baby voice clear and firm, every step giving precise guidance. Floating comments constantly revealing opponent’s card path, pointing out potential traps. “Mommy, play One Wan, can win max fan.” Floating comments warning: [Opponent doing Thirteen Orphans, single wait One Wan, play Four Bamboo, switch wait Bamboo!] Two voices fighting in my brain, and I must make choice in seconds. Seeing me delay playing, Brenda half joke half serious said. “In case you lose, this equity transfer agreement and asset mortgage documents signed just now all effective.” “But just in case only, Second Sister-in-law don’t be nervous.” Little Sister easing atmosphere aside. Even Vicky who always only play not speak rarely spoke. “You guys don’t scare Second Sister-in-law like this, just saying ugly words front, in case we lose, same pay money.” In case… In case (Wan Yi – Ten Thousand One)… This is their code! Just to make me play One Wan (Yi Wan), so they can triple win on one cannon! “Chloe, your turn play.” Brenda urged again, cards in her hand left one. I looked at Jason, he nodded slightly to me, eyes full of encouragement. Finally, I pulled out One Wan. “I play… One Wan.” Hearing this, three people coincidentally showed delighted expressions. Brenda immediately pushed cards down, “One Wan ah, I exactly win 1 Wan.” Remaining card in her hand indeed One Wan. Atmosphere instantly subtle. Floating comments emerged again. [Said cannot play One Wan ah.] [Now good, lit cannon.] But at this time baby voice disappeared again. Jason face sinking, brows tight. “Forget it Chloe, money for this hand, I pay for you.” Hearing this, Little Sister also pushed cards down. [I also won, Brother, this money you pay too?] Mixed suit, 456 Dot, two 9 Wan, one 2 Wan one 3 Wan, indeed win 1 Wan. My breath stagnated, face solemn. Floating comments also felt incredible. [This is lit two houses ah? Done, this time lose more than previous month.] But next second, Little Sister’s bestie Vicky suddenly spoke. “Sorry, Second Sister-in-law, I also win 1 Wan.” She pushed cards down. Three Red Dragon, three White Dragon, one 1 Wan, single wait 1 Wan. Floating comments stuttering. [This, this is one cannon three sounds?] But unexpectedly me who already in必输 (must lose) laughed shaking head. “Did I lose?” Hearing this, Jason face instantly changed. “I said all, don’t gamble, you don’t listen! Now good, one cannon three sounds, you still ask did you lose?!” I noncommittal, continued asking. “Jason, are you sure I really lost?”

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The day I found a used, ultra-thin wrapper—a condom—stuffed between the passenger seat and the console of Damon’s custom Range Rover was the tenth anniversary of our wedding. In the ensuing fight, I slammed the door and ran, only to be hit by a runaway semi-truck. Our seven-month-old child was torn from my body, seven months too soon. Crushed. Just… gone. Damon Cole wept outside the operating room, swearing that he would never betray me again. He blocked the mistress, Chelsea Quinn, on every platform and started sending me his itinerary daily. My friends called me a warrior, praising me for winning the battle for my marriage. But I grew quieter with each passing day. Until our tenth wedding anniversary. Damon knelt on one knee, holding a newly customized engagement ring—a replica of the cheap silver band he’d first given me when we were kids. “Anna Rhodes,” he said, his eyes earnest and teary. “If you could turn back time, would you still marry me?” Our eyes met. I just stood there, frozen, unable to give him any reaction. That’s when he snapped. “Anna, what is it going to take? How much longer are you going to punish me? It was a baby, not a limb! We can have another one! I’ve been crawling on my knees for six months, damn it! Is that not enough?” “Do I have to kill myself before you’ll finally forgive me?” I blinked slowly. I looked at him, then smiled faintly. “You went through all the trouble to set this up. You must be starving. Would you like me to make you some grilled cheese? Or maybe just burgers?” … 1 Damon roared and slammed the front door as he left. I sighed. For the last six months, Damon truly seemed to have become the man I married. He’d even pushed a crucial business dinner to be here with me tonight. But the words—the tearful, desperate “I do” I’d said ten years ago—couldn’t be squeezed past my lips now. Before I could process the lingering emptiness, my phone chimed. Chelsea Quinn had posted a new Instagram Reel. In the shaky video, Damon was slumped in a dim corner of a bar, slugging back liquor. He was leaning down and kissing Chelsea fiercely. The caption was a self-satisfied thought of hers: ‘To the one who sent him back to me. Love always finds a way.’ The old me, even when heavily pregnant, would have charged into that bar and torn both of them apart. Now, I just calmly clicked on her private messages. And sent her a screenshot of the recipe for my famous anti-hangover detox shot. It was a recipe I’d tracked down from an old herbalist for Damon when I was worried about his stomach. Sending it to Chelsea felt like passing on the mantle. I was done with the caretaking. I expected Damon to stay out for days, like he used to. But he came home. He stood in the foyer, smelling of stale liquor, his eyes red-rimmed. He looked broken and pathetic. “Why didn’t you come after me?” “Chelsea’s post—you saw it, didn’t you?” I froze. A sudden pang pierced my chest. He knew. He always knew about Chelsea’s deliberate provocation, about every one of her calculated moves to torment me. I opened my mouth, but the words felt stuck in my throat. My silence quickly transformed Damon’s hurt into white-hot fury. He grabbed my shoulders, his alcohol-laced breath hot on my face. “Anna! Say something, damn it! You had a miscarriage, you didn’t lose your voice!” “Look at you! You’re a shell of yourself, moping around all day. In bed, you’re like a dead fish. You have none of Chelsea’s fire, her vivacity—what man is supposed to tolerate that?” He got louder, unleashing every ounce of suppressed resentment. “The fight that day—sure, I was wrong. But are you telling me you had no part in it? The baby was in your stomach, Anna! You were the one stupid enough to get hit by a truck!” “And I came back! I want to make things work! We can have another baby! How much longer do you need to dwell on this?!” I stared at his enraged face, my eyes wide with a strange blankness. It had truly never occurred to me. His affair, my loss—all my fault. Just then, the doorbell rang. The display screen showed Chelsea holding a thermal carafe. She was specifically in a low-cut cashmere sweater, her neck craned just so, displaying a fresh, vivid bruise of a kiss. “Damon, are you home? You left before you could drink your hangover remedy. I was so worried.” Damon saw the screen, too. His grip on my shoulder eased. He looked at me, pleading. “Anna. Just say the word. Tell me to stay, and I will.” He was waiting. Waiting for me to scream, to drive Chelsea away, to lock him in with me—like I always had. But I just gave him a gentle, composed smile. “It’s too late. She shouldn’t be alone tonight. You should go with her.” In an instant, the expression on Damon’s face turned viciously ugly. “Fine! Fine, Anna Rhodes! You’ve finally done it.” He laughed, a bitter, hollow sound. He pointed at me, his jaw clenched. “You remember this! Don’t you dare say I was the one who walked away this time!” He spun around, flung the door open, and, taking Chelsea with him, stormed out without a backward glance. 2 Taking advantage of the post-anniversary chaos, I went through the house and began to sort things out. When I reached the cardboard box tucked away in a corner of the home office, I paused. There was nothing of monetary value inside. Just a faded, threadbare high school varsity jacket and a few polaroids. The jacket was Damon’s. The winter I was sixteen, my mother finally fled my father’s abuse. My father turned all his drunken rage onto me. I was being beaten bloody in an alley. Damon had rushed in, thrown that jacket over me, and taken several blows himself. He shattered a beer bottle and screamed at my father: “Old man, touch her again and I’ll bury you! You hear me?” He was young, reckless, all raw muscle and fury. He scared my father sober that night. Damon dragged me out of that suffocating darkness. When we were at our lowest, we split a single pack of instant ramen. Even the ring he proposed with was just a plain silver band. His hand shook as he slid it onto my finger, his voice thick with emotion. He said, “One day, when I make it big, I’ll replace this with a diamond bigger than a pigeon’s egg. I’ll buy you the best house, the best life.” “I’ll make you happy, Anna. We’ll have a complete, perfect family.” I sat on the floor, flipping through the photos, my fingertips icy cold. Damon had kept his promise. He gave me the mansion, the security, and now, even the bespoke diamond ring. But how did we end up like this? I think the change began when I got pregnant. The morning sickness was debilitating. Damon, concerned, told me to step back from the company to rest. That’s when Chelsea was hired. She was a top-tier graduate, beautiful, and undeniably capable. Damon mentioned her several times at home, saying he really admired her drive. I didn’t worry at first; I was glad someone was there to lighten his load. But slowly, his shirts smelled of a perfume I didn’t recognize, and his phone calls with me grew shorter and more impatient. Then came that torrential night when I took a taxi to the office to surprise him. I opened his office door. And saw two bodies intertwined. He was driving into her with a savage intensity. My world collapsed in that instant. I lost it. I screamed, I cried, and, seven months pregnant, I lunged at Chelsea, ripping at her hair. I exposed his shame to every mutual friend. I publicly humiliated Chelsea at the company. I thought I could drag him back. But he wasn’t the headstrong boy from the alley anymore. A single medical report—a statement about my mental health—sealed my fate. “She’s dealing with severe prenatal anxiety and a touch of delusion. We’re working through it, everyone. Please be patient with her.” But I wouldn’t surrender… And so, later… I instinctively clutched my lower abdomen, which was now flat and empty. I couldn’t go down that road again. I scrambled up, heart pounding, and, without another thought, dumped the entire box into the recycling bin. The next morning, I was woken up by the corporate Slack channel. The new personnel announcement showed Chelsea Quinn not only back but promoted to Chief Executive Assistant. The messages rolled in: “I heard the CEO spent the night of his anniversary with Chelsea.” “Ugh, is that pregnant whale going to come in and cause a scene again? I can’t deal with the drama.” “Who could? I think Damon’s finally smartened up. High time, too. Choose a capable woman.” “Cheers to Damon and Chelsea! Wedding bells soon, haha.” Seeing the gossip again, I felt calmer than I expected. I didn’t respond. I almost agreed with them; maybe Damon and Chelsea were a better fit. In the days that followed, Damon and Chelsea became openly high-profile. He took her to galas, business dinners, and even on the trip I’d always dreamed of—to see the Northern Lights. I stared at the photo of Damon’s side profile, his smile soft and tender, for a long time. He always said Iceland was too far, that we’d have to wait. But apparently, when it was for the person he loved, the distance didn’t matter. I didn’t call him. Instead, I opened Chelsea’s Instagram. For the first time, I Liked the photo. Then, I commented: “Wishing you two a happy ever after.” The phone rang immediately. It was Damon. The background was loud, and his voice was slurred. “Anna Rhodes, if you can find me in the next hour, I’ll give you one wish.” “A chance to ask for anything you want.” I glanced out the window. The rain was torrential. I ran out the door without hesitation. 3 The rain soaked me through. I couldn’t get a cab, so I ran. Searching one place after another. With ten minutes left, I finally burst through the door of a private party room. The laughter and noise stopped instantly. Every single face turned to look at me. I was dripping wet, my skirt stained with mud, my hair plastered to my face. I stood in the doorway, breathless and unable to speak. “Anna! You showed up just in time! I was just telling Damon that I’m pregnant!” Chelsea looked genuinely surprised and delighted, clutching a hospital ultrasound printout. I’d prepared myself for everything, yet I still stumbled back. Chelsea bit her lip, then stepped forward, grabbing my hand with faux-chastity. “Damon and I decided. He wants this baby. You and I can both be this baby’s mothers, in a way.” “It’s our apology gift to you. Can we just move past this now, please?” I was rigid. I took a deep, shuddering breath, just barely managing to suppress the urge to strike her. I wasn’t here to start a fight. “Wow, Damon. A wife and a mistress, both under your roof. Having it all, huh?” The crowd burst into mocking laughter. Damon slowly rose from the corner, walking over to me. He looked down at my miserable, drowned appearance, a faint smirk playing on his lips. “You ran here? That’s how badly you want that wish?” I didn’t answer. I wiped the rain from my face with my sleeve. I just stared at him. I looked at his eyes, his mouth, his jawline. But no matter how hard I looked, I couldn’t find the face of the Damon I’d loved. It seemed that I was finally able to say goodbye to the ghost of my past. “You said you’d grant any request.” “Absolutely.” Damon crossed his arms, leaning back, patiently waiting for me to ask for what he thought I wanted. I stood there, the wet clothes clinging to my body. I didn’t run to him, as they all expected. Instead, I slowly pulled a folded document from my soaked dress. “Damon, I’ve made up my mind.” “I want a divorce.” I calmly held the signed divorce papers out to him. The silence that followed was deathly. “What did you say?” He stared at the papers, a vein throbbing in his temple. “Ten years! I never asked for a divorce, and you want to end it?” I gave a cold, detached nod. “Fine! Fine! Anna Rhodes, you’ll regret this. You will crawl back to me, begging, before I ever take you back!” In a fit of pique, Damon snatched the pen, signed his name with a flourish, and tossed the papers on the floor. I silently bent down, picked them up, and tucked them away. I turned to leave, just as a bottle shattered behind me. 4 I wanted to clear out fast, to make room for Damon and Chelsea. But I still ran into them. Damon had apparently spent the interim entangled with Chelsea on the living room sofa. The air in the house reeked of sex and expensive cologne. I held my nose, walking past them. Damon got up, without shame, and grabbed my wrist, his voice a malicious sneer. “Anna, you better think carefully. Divorce me, and what do you have left?” “Your mother, who cut you off years ago and wishes you were never born? Or your father, who just drinks and screams?” I turned back, my eyes cold. He smirked. “Look, for ten years of marriage, if you’re really that desperate, beg me. I might hire you back as a nursemaid for pregnant Chelsea—at least you’d have a roof over your head.” Only a childhood sweetheart could know exactly where to land the cruelest blow. Despite my total detachment, a dull ache still flared inside my chest. I pulled my arm free. My voice was quiet, yet steady. “Don’t worry about me. My life is no longer your concern.” Chelsea, watching me tape up my packed boxes, let out a sneering laugh. “Anna, I never thought you’d give up now.” “I have to admit, you almost won. For those six months, I actually thought you might keep him.” I ignored her and kept sealing the box. My dismissal clearly infuriated her. She stepped forward and deliberately crushed the utility knife under her heel. “The thing I hate most is the attitude of you wives. Someone who couldn’t even keep her own husband has no right to look down on me.” I looked up, my brow furrowing. She suddenly leaned in close, a flash of pure venom in her eyes. She lowered her voice to a chilling whisper. “You still don’t know why Damon didn’t answer your calls the day you were hit by the truck, do you?” My expression froze. Chelsea was pleased by my reaction. She got closer, her lips almost brushing my ear. “It wasn’t bad signal. Not the phone left at home…” “He was with me, in the tiny studio apartment where you two lost your virginity.” “Your phone kept ringing—over and over, the screen lighting up.” “He glanced at the screen, hit Silent, and then… he pushed harder!” My face drained of blood. She was still reveling in the memory. “The rush was incredible. You have no idea how stimulating that was, knowing your desperate calls were chiming in the background. God, that was the best sex I’ve ever had.” Boom. My mind went blank. My vision blurred red. I lunged at Chelsea, throwing her to the ground and straddling her, hitting her in a frantic, uncoordinated frenzy. In the confusion, the cigarette lighter she held slipped, igniting the curtains. Flames shot up, and smoke began to billow. “Anna! Are you insane?!” Damon shouted, rushing in to pull us apart. But I clung to Chelsea like a demon, wrapping myself around her again and again. The fire grew. Damon gritted his teeth, kicked me away, and dragged Chelsea out first. When he looked back, the thick smoke had already obscured everything. I was gone.

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I was childhood friend Jax’s simp for five years, but only ended up as a “friend with benefits.” For five years, as long as he called, I appeared. Every time he needed comfort, I stayed. Even without a title, I was happy. Until I heard he had a new girlfriend, I quietly packed up my feelings, ready to exit again. But that night, he knocked on my door again. And rarely bought a box of strawberry flavored condoms. “This isn’t appropriate, right? Aren’t you dating?” I blocked the door, not letting him in. He squeezed in sideways, pulled open his collar, movements showing rare impatience. But his tone carried a trace of rare gentleness: “I am dating, but she is too clean, so innocent that people just want to protect her.” He paused, voice lowering: “I can’t bear to touch her. Can only come to you to solve it. Let’s just treat it as a breakup sex. What are you pretending in front of me, open it quickly!” I swallowed the astringency in my throat, asking cooperatively: “Who is it, can make you treasure her so much?” The corner of his mouth hooked up a heartless smile, looking up at me: “Your sister.” Chapter 1 Hearing this sentence, my hand trembled fiercely. The condom fell on the bed. Brain blank for a rare moment. I never thought he would be with my stepsister. Even less did I expect he would turn over a new leaf for my stepsister. Maybe the expression on my face was very helpless. Jax tutted, smiling playfully: “Didn’t expect it?” He took a drag of his cigarette, as if reminiscing: “That little idiot, doesn’t even know how to smoke.” “I passed it to her with my mouth, she coughed for a long time.” “Innocent as hell.” He shook his head laughing. I swallowed the sourness in my chest, speaking with difficulty: “Why her?” Jax put out the cigarette in his hand, tone rarely serious: “Annie is a good girl, I don’t want to let her down.” My heart trembled, as if all strength was drained from my body. “Forget it, you continue to take pills tonight.” Jax pushed me onto the bed, skillfully unbuttoning my bra. “Annie is too good, I held back for so long these days, dare not touch her.” Still the usual flirting technique, but my body was cold and couldn’t raise any interest. I pushed him away, stood up silently. Put on clothes, shoes. Then holding back the pain, pretending to be free and easy: “Jax, let’s break it off.” Jax paused slightly, tutted disapprovingly: “Nicole, can you leave me?” I didn’t speak, picked up my bag and started packing cosmetics. “Fine, get out then.” Jax’s voice turned cold. With a bit of impatience of being disturbed. My fingertips almost sank into the flesh, but I still left the room. Jax can like anyone, but not Annie. Annie and I have completely different personalities. I love playing, love excitement. Like Jax, nature is flamboyant and loose. And Annie has been a well-behaved, obedient and quiet good girl since childhood. So when she was tricked by punks to the bar, I chose to save her. That day, I was drunk as mud by the punks, barely escaped with her. But she left drunk me at the bus stop because the teacher notified to hand in homework. Causing me to be taken back to the hotel by the punks chasing out. Years later, I still dare not recall that night. I scoff at chastity, but voluntary and forced are two different things. Afterwards, I dragged my body tortured for a night, weak and broken, and slapped Annie hard. But she cried aggrievedly, collapsing and accusing me: “You only care about yourself! If I can’t hand in homework, I will be punished by the teacher!” Since then, I hated her extremely. And Jax knew all these. Chapter 2 I couldn’t accept the fact that he was with Annie. Could only avoid paying attention to his updates. But on his birthday, he sent me an invitation as if nothing happened. Maybe I just wanted to see with my own eyes, or maybe I was just unwilling. I chose to go to the appointment. But when I pushed open the private room door, my heart still missed a beat. On the sofa, Jax pressed Annie against the backrest, kissing dominantly and fiercely. I even saw the veins bulging on the back of his hand due to exertion. People around were jeering, only my face was pale. For so many years, every time Jax was intimate with me, he watched me being confused and infatuated with ease. This is the first time seeing him losing control emotionally. Kiss ended, Annie’s face flushed, leaning softly in his arms. Jax’s Adam’s apple rolled, tutted dotingly: “Why so innocent?” Just finished speaking, saw me. The smile on Jax’s mouth stiffened imperceptibly. I didn’t speak, face probably ugly white. Could only be pulled to join the game. However, the next round, the loser was Annie. Punishment content was pole dancing. Annie was always conservative, hearing this punishment turned pale instantly, looking at Jax for help. People around were full of excitement, jeering: “Brother Jax, can you bear this?” Jax couldn’t bear it, so he lifted his chin at me lazily: “Annie is thin-skinned, can’t dance this.” “You go dance for her.” Annie is thin-skinned, what about me? My heart seemed blocked by a stone, crushing me breathless. Could only endure the bitterness, mocking coldly: “Why play if you can’t afford it?” Annie’s face turned white again, she bit her lip, suddenly said: “Sister, do you still hold a grudge against me for causing you to be raped back then?” The word Rape was specifically emphasized by her. Hard not to hear clearly, people around instantly cast strange looks at me. My body stiffened slightly, didn’t expect Annie to uncover my scar in public. Annie continued to accuse: “How long are you going to hold a grudge against me? Clearly I was forced too, you can’t just care about yourself right?” “And you are so casual, what’s the difference sleeping with one more or one less?” She sounded more and more aggrieved, as if I was the one being aggressive. The pain of being tortured that night surged again. I trembled with anger, losing control on the spot. When everyone was caught off guard, I raised the wine glass and poured it directly on her. “Ah!” Annie exclaimed, crying like pear blossoms in rain pouncing on Jax. I sneered sarcastically: “Annie, for so many years you are still as selfish as ever, back then I clearly went to save you…” “Enough.” Jax interrupted me, voice indistinguishable joy or anger. He took off his clothes and draped them on Annie. Then looked at me, smile still romantic and rogue. Impatience in eyes was particularly dazzling: “Nicole, it’s been so long.” “Is it necessary to calculate like this?” My heart sank heavily, only feeling something broken. Chapter 3 When that happened back then, I wouldn’t think I lost my innocence like in TV dramas, then seek death. But the colored eyes and rumors of people around still made me feel lost and helpless. The most painful time was being blocked by school punks at the gate asking if being raped felt good? At that time, everyone around was watching the show, only Jax. He rushed over like crazy fighting with that group of punks, smashing until unconscious but still holding on to block in front of me. That time, Jax broke an arm. Several punks were sent to the hospital for emergency rescue. And I, love grew wildly, filling the girl’s heart. Later, during the most critical time of senior year, it was also Jax who resolutely transferred schools to accompany me through that difficult time. When lost, I once asked him in a low voice. Is it really my fault? Am I really dirty now? At that time, the boy laughed wantonly: “Dirty my ass, wait for that beast to come out I’ll kill him!” Since then, I was like a moth flying into the fire named Jax. Even if hurt completely by his promiscuity and looseness. Still persistently refused to let go. But now, he asked me is it necessary to calculate like this? At this moment, I looked at the careless coldness in his eyes. Suddenly felt very boring. I don’t know how I walked out of the private room. Maybe very awkward. I entangled with Jax for so many years, for him even stayed alone in this strange city. Now it’s time to let go. I went to the company to resign, bought a ticket home desperately. After packing everything, I went to Jax’s villa. Here stored many things belonging to me, now should all dissipate with those love and lust. However, after opening the door, I froze on the spot again. Living room was ambiguous, scattered clothes and condoms everywhere. One, two, three. Each one seemed to tell me the intensity of this affair. Bedroom even heard the girl’s soft tune ambiguous sound, and man’s muffled groan when passion intense. I blinked dry eyes, took a long time to suppress the surging pain in my heart. Maybe this time entangling with Jax is Annie whom I hate to the bone. So clearly something I should have been used to, I still felt heart-wrenching pain. A moment later, the door opened. Annie exclaimed, covering her naked body: “Why are you here!?” I restrained myself from noticing the marks of intense ambiguity on her body. But just then, phone vibrated. I just wanted to check but was snatched away by Annie. She bit her lip and questioned loudly: “Are you secretly taking my nude photos!?” I felt she was unreasonable, sneered sarcastically: “Is it necessary?” Annie seemed stimulated by something, directly slapped me hard. “You just want to ruin my reputation, make me a dirty woman like you!” I was beaten to turn my head, cheek burning with pain. But couldn’t understand no matter what. If not for me, Annie would have become the dirty woman in her mouth long ago. Why does she treat me like this? Chapter 4 I snatched the phone, then raised my hand planning to slap back hard. After all, I was never one to be bullied. But the next second, wrist was pinched tightly. Jax’s voice mixed with coldness sounded. “Nicole, what crazy fit are you throwing?” Annie cried and threw herself into his arms, as if extremely scared: “Brother Jax, sister took my nude photos. I’m so scared, can you make her delete them?” Jax frowned tight, coldly said: “Delete.” I only felt the pain on my face getting worse, unbearable pain. Jax actually also thought I would do such a thing. I gritted my teeth, holding back tears: “Let go.” “Nicole, Annie is different from you.” “She is not a casual girl, using such dirty means on her, do you want to ruin her?” Jax’s tone even carried cold threat: “Delete now, or don’t force me to be rude to you!” Every word of his stepped precisely on my pain. Emotions in my heart exploded completely, threw the phone hard on Jax’s face. Red-eyed shouting: “Jax, look clearly!” “For so many years, if I wanted to revenge her, I would have done it long ago!” Jax looked at my collapsed appearance, face changed slightly. He opened the phone to look, nothing. And Annie had no trace of guilt. She leaned in Jax’s arms, crying aggrievedly: “Brother Jax, I didn’t mean to misunderstand her.” “I just don’t want to become dirty like her.” “If people know I have premarital sex, I would want to die!” “Brother Jax, I’m really scared.” Jax rubbed her head, seeming unable to handle her crying. My mouth hooked a sneer, took the phone and turned to leave. After a while, like comforting. Jax said: “Good girl, you are different from her.” “You are not dirty.” My body stiffened, finally completely gave up hope. Only felt past events, all turned into dreamlike broken shadows at this moment. Those years of obsession, all turned to ashes. Sitting on the high-speed train home. I looked outside the car, eyes unexpectedly calm. Leaving this city, Jax and I are completely over. I am not nowhere to go. At least, in my hometown. My long-dead mother left me a house belonging to me. I closed my eyes, planning to rest briefly. However, the next second, someone patted my shoulder. Man wearing white shirt, gold-rimmed glasses. Looking gentle, smile shy: “Hello, can I sit next to you?” I nodded lightly, continued to close eyes. A moment later, man said again: “Maybe a bit presumptuous, but I just took a photo of you.” “Can I get your authorization?” Man called Jasper, profession photographer. Usual work is shooting scenery around the world. In the photo he handed me, I leaned against the window, side face bathed in sunlight, brows relaxed. I was a bit surprised, decided to leave Jax. My mood turned out to be relaxed? “Composition of this photo is perfect, removing your profile would destroy the overall structure.” Man seemed a bit shy, pursed lips after saying this. “If you are unwilling, I will delete immediately.” I smiled: “Use it.” Maybe sitting in adjacent seats, or maybe too bored. Jasper and I chatted all the way. Then learned he and I lived in the same community. More surprisingly, he and I went to the same kindergarten. “Like this, counts as old classmates.” Jasper also smiled: “I have a younger brother, always lived with my dad in this community. Don’t know if you know him, his name is Jax.” I froze, unbelievable there is such a coincidence in the world. Jax has a biological brother. Smarter than him since childhood, more sensible than him. So when parents divorced, Jax’s mother only took the brother away. This matter has always been Jax’s knot. But such a coincidence, I couldn’t raise half interest. Still smiled: “Know, but not familiar.” Speaking here, phone rang. It was Jax.

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Tonight is New Year’s Eve, and also my anniversary with my boyfriend. At 6:05 PM, I picked up my bag, ready to clock out, but was blocked by my boss. “Leaving so early? Who allowed you to leave?” He leaned against the door frame, tone sarcastic. “Didn’t you see I haven’t left yet? You are the most unruly person in the entire company.” I pointed to the time on my phone: “Company policy says work ends at 6:00. It’s 6:05 now.” “Leaving on time is perfectly justified.” The boss’s face sank: “In this company, I am the law.” “Who are you to talk rules with me?” “I say you haven’t finished, you sit back down obediently.” I froze for a few seconds, then took out my phone and sent a text to my boyfriend. “My boss won’t let me leave. Cancel that project we talked about.” Chapter 1 “What kind of attitude is this! I’m talking to you, and you’re playing with your phone?” “Do you have any respect for me as your boss!” Boss Sterling saw me taking out my phone to text, his face darkening instantly. I put away my phone, tone flat: “Since I can’t leave on time, I have to tell my boyfriend. Is there a problem?” “Is there a problem? Huge problem!” Sterling looked me up and down, eyes full of contempt. “I wondered why your efficiency has been so low lately. Turns out your mind is all on romance!” “A girl thinking about dating all day, what future can you have?” Heh, my future doesn’t depend on you, and you can’t afford it either. Sure enough, jobs found by submitting resumes myself are unreliable. I should have listened to Preston and taken a leisurely job at his company. Drinking tea and reading newspapers every day would be better than watching people’s faces here. Besides, I have always been diligent. Projects delivered on time, overtime not rare. How is my efficiency low? Simply nonsense. Counting it up, this is the twelfth time this month the boss picked on me. At first, I really thought it was my problem and reflected daily. Turns out, he just purely wants to find someone to scold, to show off his authority as a boss. Now, I won’t spoil him. I retorted directly. “Mr. Sterling, dating is my private matter and hasn’t affected my work.” “I completed all my duties on time.” Colleague Linda next to me whispered in support, “Yes, Mr. Sterling, Sarah has always been serious and responsible, never made mistakes.” Sterling exploded on the spot. “Who do you think you are? Are you the boss or am I? Do you have a say when I criticize employees?” “Don’t think I don’t know, you two drink bubble tea and order takeout together every day, practically wearing the same pair of pants. Forming a clique, huh?” “If she makes a mistake and gets her salary deducted, should I deduct yours too?” Linda’s eyes reddened with grievance, but she dared not talk back to Sterling. Sterling scolded enough, then turned back to me. “What do you mean completed? Who are you fooling?” “Where is the Annual Gala plan I asked you to do last week?” “We agreed the first draft must be submitted before New Year’s Eve.” “Work not done, and you have the nerve to leave? Where is your shame?” Colleagues around were peeking to watch the drama. The boss wouldn’t let me go, so they dared not leave either, afraid the boss would scold them too. I was too lazy to argue, too lazy to turn on the computer that was already shut down. I took out my phone and opened Slack. Clicked on the chat with the boss. “Boss, the Annual Gala plan was sent to you via Slack file two days ago, Monday at 4:15 PM.” “At 4:23 PM, you replied with an ‘OK’ emoji.” “I haven’t received any further feedback from you.” “I assumed you had confirmed receipt.” The screen displayed it clearly. The boss’s face became even gloomier. “What confirmed receipt!” “Replying OK means I know, not that I finished reading and confirming!” Sterling spat as he spoke, getting more excited. “Also, if I didn’t give you feedback, why didn’t you remind me?” “Ah? Can’t you be more proactive in doing things?” “Where is your sense of responsibility for project follow-up? Sending a plan to me and considering it done?” “Is this your work attitude?” I’ve heard this pot-dumping rhetoric until my ears calloused. Forgetful himself, blames employees for not reminding. Missed seeing it himself, blames employees for not writing clearly. Working here for a few months, after being picked on a few times, I already had a response plan. I zoomed in on the chat history. “Mr. Sterling, look carefully at the chat history.” “When I sent the file to you, the note was very clear.” I read out the chat record. “Mr. Sterling, the first draft of the Annual Gala plan has been sent. Please confirm the plan ASAP.” “I booked a 30-minute meeting with you on Jan 4th at 10 AM to go over the final plan. Does that work?” Sterling panicked, slapping the table loudly. “You sent so many words, who has time to read them one by one!” “As HR, don’t you know my work habits? Important things must be said in person!” “Sending a Slack message counts as notification? You are slacking off!” Heh, here we go again. He is the boss, he is always right. I sneered in my heart, but my face remained calm. “Mr. Sterling, you forgot. The rule you personally set at the company meeting last month.” “You said, to clarify responsibilities, all communication and work reports must leave a trail on Slack to avoid disputes later.” “I was just strictly following your rules.” Sterling’s face turned completely black. “Good! Good sharp-tongued Sarah!” “Dare to talk back to me.” “Said so much, just want to leave work, right?” “I tell you, no way!” “This company is named Sterling, I am the boss.” He gritted his teeth and stared at me. “I officially notify you now, you are not allowed to leave!” “Meeting right now! Discuss the Annual Gala plan!” He scanned the office viciously. “And Linda, Zack… your entire department, no one leaves. Everyone comes to the meeting.” As soon as this was said, people in the office were stunned. Zack, who was named, tentatively spoke: “Mr. Sterling, I… my girlfriend is waiting for me downstairs for dinner, we agreed…” “Girlfriend?” Sterling sneered, “Can a girlfriend pay your salary? Can she pay your insurance? Can’t distinguish priorities!” He flung his hand fiercely, pointing at me again. “Blame your good colleague Sarah.” “It’s her smart-ass backtalk that dragged you all into overtime.” “Today, I’ll teach you a good lesson, so you don’t forget who holds the cards!” Several resentful looks immediately cast on me. Everyone still counted this debt on my head. I was about to say something, but Linda immediately held my arm. “Sarah, stop talking, forget it.” “The boss is angry. The more you resist, the more energized he gets. He really can make us stay all night!” “My child is alone at home, I…” “Just treat it as me begging you, endure it, okay?” “Let’s go, let’s go to the meeting.” But glancing at Linda’s pleading face, The fire in my heart faded a bit. This shitty job, this stupid boss, staying one more second is dirty. But in the few months I’ve been here, Linda really treated me like a sister and taught me a lot. I can’t let her be embarrassed because of me. Fine, give her face. I nodded at Linda and swallowed all the words back. Linda turned to squeeze out a smile at Sterling, bowing and scraping: “Boss, we’ll go to the conference room right away, right away.” “Sarah is young and ignorant, don’t hold it against her.” Sterling snorted, looking triumphant. “Go! To the conference room! Today I’ll teach you a lesson personally!” I rolled a huge eye in my heart. Laugh, laugh hard. Don’t know how long you can laugh. My text message has been sent. When Preston sees it, he’ll cry. This project was only possible because Preston’s grandfather agreed to cooperate with him seeing I work here. Otherwise, with Sterling’s small volume, he wouldn’t touch The Preston Group even in a hundred years. Chapter 2 In the conference room, Sterling sat at the head, starting his lecture. “Today, keeping everyone here is not to punish you, but to educate you!” “What is Wolf Culture? What is team spirit? Some of you just lack this spirit!” As he spoke, he glanced at me with the corner of his eye, the meaning self-evident. I lowered my eyelids, staring at the conference table, feeling annoyed. New Year’s Eve, anniversary… all ruined. What is Preston doing now? Is he waiting for my call? Just thinking, the phone on the table buzzed suddenly. The screen lit up, displaying: Preston. I quickly pressed the hang-up button, then put the phone in my pocket. But those two short vibrations were still exceptionally abrupt. Sterling’s long speech stopped abruptly. He scanned every face in the conference room and roared loudly. “Who?” “Whose phone was ringing just now?” Everyone’s eyes focused on me immediately. Zack sitting next to me even pointed his finger at me. “Boss, it’s Sarah’s phone.” I looked up, looking straight at Sterling. “It’s me.” “You again! Sarah!” Sterling slapped the table and stood up directly. “Good! You are really good!” “I’m here talking my heart out about the team, about the future, and you are flirting with your little boyfriend down there!” “Playing with your phone in a meeting, do you have any discipline in your eyes! Do you have me as a boss!” I frowned, explaining calmly, “I didn’t play with my phone, just a call, I already hung up.” “Hung up?” Sterling was furious, “You think you’re right?” “I see you are unrepentant!” “If I don’t show you some severity, you won’t know how many eyes Lord Ma has!” He pointed at me viciously. “I officially notify you now, according to company regulations, handling personal affairs during a meeting,” “Seriously affecting meeting order, fined $3,000! Deducted from your next month’s salary!” I twitched the corner of my mouth. “Mr. Sterling, I memorized the employee handbook when I joined. There is no rule saying answering a call in a meeting gets fined.” “Handbook?” Sterling sneered, tone disdainful, “What I say is the rule!” “I have the final say in this company!” He looked unhappy, frowning at everyone, “Everyone say, am I right to fine her?” “Is it people like her with no sense of collective honor who drag down our entire department’s progress?” Linda spoke carefully, “Mr. Sterling, please calm down.” “Sarah is still young, just graduated, doesn’t know better. This is the first time, how about… give her a chance?” “Her probation salary isn’t high, $3,000 isn’t a small amount…” Sterling glared, “She’s young? She doesn’t know better? She knew too well when she talked back to me?” “Linda I tell you, don’t mix mud here!” “It’s because of softies like you that she is so lawless!” Linda sat back awkwardly, daring not say another word. Zack was best at reading expressions. He spoke righteously, “No rules, no standards. I support Mr. Sterling’s decision.” “Sarah, it is indeed your fault this time.” Other colleagues immediately echoed, “Yeah, Sarah, just admit the fine quickly so we can finish the meeting and leave!” “We could have left at six, what time is it now? It’s all your fault!” “Who do you think you are? Talking back to the boss?” “Apologize to the boss quickly, stop being stubborn!” Looking at their expressions accusing me all at once, I suddenly found it very funny. These are my good colleagues. I usually treat them with snacks often. Once trouble hits, they push me out immediately. I straightened my back, “I won’t admit fines that shouldn’t be fined.” Sterling’s face collapsed, preparing to curse. My phone vibrated again. Sterling exploded immediately, “Sarah, is there no end? I order you, hand over the phone immediately.” I snorted coldly: “Impossible.” “The phone is my personal property. You have no right to confiscate it.” “Seems you still don’t understand the boss is the biggest in the company.” Sterling glanced at Zack coldly. Zack understood immediately, calling a few other male colleagues to surround me. Linda’s face turned pale, “Mr. Sterling, what are you doing! Talk nicely!” “Shut up!” Sterling pushed her away, “None of your business!” “One more word, and you resign and get out too!” Linda stumbled, pushed into the file cabinet by the wall. Other colleagues all lowered their heads, pretending to see nothing. My heart went cold. Indeed, just colleagues. Next second, several hands clamped my shoulders. “Let go!” I struggled, but the strength difference between men and women kept me pinned to the chair, unable to move. “Sarah, don’t refuse a toast only to drink a forfeit!” “Hand over the phone, it’s good for everyone!” I clutched the phone tightly, fingertips white. “Mr. Sterling, this is robbery, it’s illegal!” “Illegal?” Sterling raised his hand and slapped me. Left cheek burned with pain, heavy metallic taste in my mouth. “Go ask around, in Manhattan, who dares to touch me, Sebastian Sterling.” “Our Sterling family is protected by the Preston family.” “The richest Preston family, understand? Bitch.” Heh, he hit the future matriarch of the Preston family, and wants the Preston family to protect him? Simply dreaming! I smiled mockingly, “You will regret this!” “I never regret what I do!” Sterling lost patience, stepping forward personally to pry my fingers. His nails were long, digging hard into the back of my hand. My eyes reddened with pain. In the last second before the phone was snatched, I used all my strength, finger swiping the answer button. Sterling let out a sneer. “Heh, so what if you answered.” “Let your boyfriend hear how pathetic you are now!” Sterling pressed the speaker button, tone rampant, “Hello? Looking for Sarah?” The voice on the other end turned cold, “Who are you?” “Who am I?” Sterling laughed loudly, “I am her boss!” “I tell you, stop waiting. Your girlfriend Sarah talked back to her superior. I’m punishing her to stay in the company for overtime and deep reflection!” “Tonight, she goes nowhere!” Silence on the other end. Sterling became more smug, “Heard that? A grown man knowing only to circle around women, useless!” “I tell you, stop calling and disturbing our company meeting, or I’ll make you suffer consequences you can’t bear.” “Oh? Really?” An icy voice interrupted Sterling’s clamor. But this voice did not come from the phone. Instead, it came from the corridor nearby. Everyone’s eyes widened, looking at the conference room door. Only to see a tall and slender figure striding over. “I’d really like to see how you make me suffer consequences I can’t bear.” “Who the hell are you?” Sterling spat low, “Who let you in?” “Our company is holding an important meeting. Idlers get out!” The man glanced at Sterling lightly. “I’m here to pick up Sarah.” After he finished, his gaze fell on me. The colleagues grabbing me immediately let go. I threw myself into Preston’s arms immediately. “Preston, you finally came.” He looked at the red mark on my face and the bloody scratches on my hand, frowning with heartache. “Who did this.” Red-eyed, I pointed at Sterling, and Zack and the others. “Don’t worry, I will make them pay.” Preston patted my back gently, “Let’s go, I’ll take you to the hospital to treat the wounds first.” Saying that, he held my hand, turning to leave. Sterling laughed arrogantly. “Kid, you are Sarah’s boyfriend, right?” “I tell you, you can’t take her today!” “Sarah is my employee. When she can leave work depends on me!” “Now, immediately, get out! Don’t hinder our company’s internal discipline rectification!” Preston’s tone was three degrees colder than before. “I say it again, I’m taking her.” “Are you f*cking deaf!” Sterling rolled his eyes impatiently, “Who do you think you are? Dare to talk to me like this?” “Do you know who I am? The boss of Sterling Capital!” “Ask around this territory, who doesn’t give me some face.” Colleagues aside started whispering. “Done for, this young man is in trouble.” “Yeah, heard the Sterling family has good relations with major powers in the city.” “Especially the richest Preston family. I heard the boss’s driver say Sterling’s father even ate with Old Mr. Preston!” “Mr. Sterling has a bad temper, but his connections are really something.” “This young man is still too young, thinking he can walk sideways with a big mouth. Impulse is the devil.” Sterling became more smug, looking at Preston with disdain. “Heard that, brat? Didn’t ask who you are messing with before entering?” “Tell you, today you kicked an iron plate.” Iron plate? Just their Sterling family? A second-rate family at best. Being able to attend the Preston family dinner was only because I work at their company, And the Old Master wanted to give them a chance. Really think he’s somebody. I looked at Preston mischievously. “Preston, what to do? Their background is so hard, I’m a bit scared.” Preston spoke lightly, “Scared of what, if the sky falls, I’ll hold it.” Sterling revealed a mouthful of yellow teeth. “Kid, what do you hold it with? Relying on this face?” “You look handsome, but I must warn you,” “Society is not your home, not a place you can pretend just because you dress like a human!!” “No strength, no background, you are a fart!” He turned around sharply, pointing viciously at me. “Blame your brainless girlfriend for offending people she shouldn’t offend.” “Today your New Year’s Eve will be spent in my f*cking office!” He turned, raising his eyebrows triumphantly at everyone in the office. “See that? This is the result of not working hard!” “Not only do you have to work overtime, but your boyfriend also has to wait outside like a dog!” Zack immediately echoed fawningly, “Mr. Sterling is right! Work is heaven. Heaven is big, earth is big, but work is the biggest!” I gently pushed Preston away and looked at Sterling. “Mr. Sterling, I quit.” As soon as these words came out, Linda’s face turned pale, winking at me desperately. Sterling laughed holding his belly. “Quit? Sarah, is your brain really kicked by a donkey?” He stopped laughing, tapping at me with his finger, “Sure, hand in the resignation letter. According to labor law, 30 days notice.” “In these 30 days, you, Sarah, are still an employee of my Sterling Capital!” “If I tell you to work overtime, you work! If I tell you to work, you work!” “Want to leave? Fine, 30 days later, get out!” “But tonight, don’t even think about stepping out of this door!” Sterling really won’t cry until he sees the coffin, still so arrogant. I frowned, “Mr. Sterling, I’m just notifying you, I quit. I won’t listen to your orders anymore.” “As for deducting salary, deduct whatever you want, doesn’t matter.” “Tonight, I am leaving.” Sterling sneered, “You think the company is a place you come and go as you please?” “Zack, call security.” Preston spoke lightly. “I remember, The Preston Group recently has a $30 billion new energy project, planning deep cooperation with you.” Hearing “The Preston Group” and “$30 billion,” Sterling straightened his back even more. “Count yourself knowledgeable, kid!” “That’s right! That project is led by our Sterling family!” “The Preston family, understand? Our Sterling family is protected by the Prestons!” He thought Preston was scared, tone even more insufferable. Preston pulled a cold smile. “Oh, really?” “That’s just right.” He took out his phone, dialing his assistant directly. “Assistant Lee, notify down. All cooperation intentions between The Preston Group and Sterling Capital are terminated.” “Also, I want Sterling Capital to disappear from the city before dawn.”

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The anesthesia faded, replaced by a sharp, knifing pain in my abdomen. I was bleeding heavily, nurses rushing around me, but my husband Arthur was gone. My newborn daughter gave a faint cry. Arthur’s assistant rushed in, panicked. “Mrs. Ashford, Mr. Ashford sent me to get the young miss. Miss Reed is feeling down, and he thought the baby could cheer her up for a few days.” My voice broke as I grabbed his arm. “Does he know I’m hemorrhaging? That she was premature, in an incubator?” “He knows. He said you’re strong—an heiress. You’ll pull through. Miss Reed’s stream is struggling, and she’s fragile.” I asked if they’d bring my daughter back. His silent pity was answer enough. A final tear fell as I closed my eyes. My child was gone. The door opened. Jessica, my once-best friend, stood there, makeup perfect but eyes red. “Anna, you were always a fool. Next time, don’t fight me for him.” I opened my eyes. It was my engagement day again. This time, I wouldn’t fight. 1 The phantom agony of the C-section was so vivid that a cold sweat broke out on my forehead. My last conversation with Jessica from my past life echoed in my mind. As I lay dying, she had come to my bedside, her voice trembling. “Was it worth it, for Arthur? You’ll die, and he’ll be glad for it. But your child will grow up without a mother…” I coughed up blood, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. “Jess, I’m so sorry. If I hadn’t fought you for him back then…” “Don’t,” she cut me off. “I never truly blamed you. I just hate that we let a man destroy our friendship.” As my consciousness faded, I heard Arthur’s voice from the hallway, dripping with a tenderness he never showed me. “Sophie, my love, don’t be sad. I brought the baby. Look how precious she is.” Sophie’s voice was cloyingly sweet. “Arthur, you’re so good to me. Won’t Anna be upset?” “What does she have to be upset about?” Arthur chuckled, a sound devoid of warmth. “She was just a fixture, a piece of the family merger. You’re the one I want to spend my life with.” “Now that she’s dead, it’s perfect. The child is yours to raise, and no one can ever keep us apart again.” Only in that final moment did I understand. The man I had loved with my entire being never had a place for me in his heart. I blinked, and the harsh sunlight of my own bedroom assaulted my eyes. I was lying in my own bed. My phone screen was lit up with a message from Jessica: “Anna, the Ashfords just called. They want you at the estate to discuss the engagement. With Arthur.” I shot upright. There was no scar, no wound on my abdomen. The date on my phone was exactly one year before my daughter’s birth. I had been reborn. I snatched the phone and immediately called Jessica. “Jess, I’ll see you at the estate this afternoon. We need to talk.” Her voice had a hopeful lilt. “You’ve finally seen the light? I told you Arthur was no good for you…” “We’ll talk in person.” I ended the call, a cold, burning hatred swirling in my chest. This time, I would not be Arthur Ashford’s stepping stone. And I would never let my child suffer the same fate. That afternoon, the grand living room of the Ashford estate was filled with the powerful heads of our families. The Ashford patriarch sat at the head of the room. Arthur, dressed in an impeccable suit, kept glancing at his phone, obviously texting Sophie. “Anna. Jessica,” the old man began, his voice raspy with age. “You are both fine young women. Whomever the Ashfords join with, it will be an excellent match. Arthur, the choice is yours. Who will it be?” In my past life, I had stepped forward, eagerly offering myself up. Jessica’s eyes had filled with tears, and our friendship shattered that very day. I hesitated, wondering if I should tell her the truth. But then I saw it in her eyes—a flicker of hope, a desperate desire. I knew she hadn’t given up on Arthur. She wanted to gamble on him one last time. Before I could speak, Jessica stood up. “Grandfather, I’d like to try!” Arthur looked up, startled. He clearly hadn’t expected her to be so bold. My heart tightened, but I remained silent. If this was her choice, the only thing I could do was be there to catch her when she finally crashed and burned. The patriarch nodded slowly. “Very well. Since Jessica is willing, then it is settled. The wedding has been in the works for six months. It will take place in three days.” “Wait,” I said suddenly. All eyes turned to me. “Grandfather, I agree to Jessica’s engagement, but on one condition.” 2 The old man stared at me. “Speak.” “Until the wedding, Arthur is not to have any contact with Sophie Reed.” I fixed my gaze on Arthur. “After all, Jessica is his fiancée now. He owes her that basic respect.” Arthur’s face darkened instantly. “Anna, Sophie and I are just friends. Don’t overstep.” “Besides,” he added coolly, “this is between me and Jessica. You have no place interfering.” Jessica, always proud, let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “Friends? Arthur, can you honestly say she’s just a friend?” She took a breath, her chin held high. “But it doesn’t matter. I trust you’ll know where your priorities lie. Here’s to the rest of our lives.” She still wouldn’t give up. Looking at her was like looking at a reflection of my past self. A wave of sorrow washed over me. Just then, Arthur’s phone began vibrating frantically. His assistant burst into the room. “Mr. Ashford! It’s terrible! Miss Reed has been in an accident!” Arthur shot to his feet. “What happened?” The assistant’s face was ashen. “She was on her way to the estate when a truck rear-ended her car. She’s being rushed to the hospital now!” “What?” Arthur’s pupils contracted. He spun around and sprinted for the door. “Send me the address!” He didn’t even make it to the threshold before the patriarch’s roar stopped him in his tracks. “Stop right there! We are not finished discussing your wedding. What could possibly be more important than an Ashford marriage? Arthur, it seems you have forgotten your place!” Arthur turned back without hesitation, his knees hitting the marble floor with a sickening thud. “Grandfather, Sophie isn’t some outsider. She’s… she’s carrying my child!” “She’s pregnant. I have to go to her.” The word “friends” now hung in the air, a bitter, mocking lie. The color drained from Jessica’s face. She swayed, and I rushed to steady her. “Jess,” I whispered. “You heard him.” The old man slammed his fist on the table, his face purple with rage. “You insolent boy! This is madness!” But he was talking to an empty room. Arthur was already gone. When we arrived at the hospital, Sophie was lying in bed, a bandage wrapped around her forehead, tears streaming down her face like a tragic heroine. The moment she saw Arthur, she threw herself into his arms. “Arthur, my love, I was so scared! I thought the baby and I were going to die! I can’t believe I’m seeing you again…” “Shh, it’s okay. I’m here now. I won’t let anything happen to you.” Arthur held her tight, his eyes overflowing with a raw, protective love he had never once shown me. Then he turned, his gaze falling upon Jessica and me, and his expression turned to ice. “Which one of you did this!” Jessica stared at him, stunned. “What are you talking about?” Sobbing, Sophie pointed a trembling finger at Jessica. “Who else could it be? Before I left, I sent you a message. I told you I was pregnant with Arthur’s child and I wanted to talk. You refused, and you threatened me! You said you wouldn’t let me get away with it!” She held up her phone. On the screen was a message sent to Jessica: “I’m carrying Arthur’s child. We’re truly in love. Please, Miss Lynn, I’m begging you to let us be together…” Jessica’s reply was three simple words: “In your dreams.” I had known Jessica for years. That was the response of a proud woman who had been provoked, nothing more. If she had truly wanted to harm Sophie, she would never have wasted time with a text message. But Arthur wasn’t interested in logic. Jessica’s voice rose, desperate and cracking. “I didn’t send anyone to hit you! I was angry that you taunted me, but why would I ever hurt you or your child? I didn’t even know where you were!” “If it wasn’t you, then who was it?” Arthur’s voice was a low, vicious snarl. “Jessica, I never knew you were so vile. To marry into my family, you’d even resort to murder?” “I didn’t!” Tears streamed down Jessica’s face. “Arthur, please, just believe me this once. We’ve known each other for so long. Don’t you know the kind of person I am?” “I thought I did! That was my mistake!” Arthur roared. “You think I don’t know how jealous you’ve always been of Sophie? Now that she’s carrying my child, you’re desperate to clear the way before the wedding, so you decided to eliminate the ‘problem’!” “Jessica, you disgust me.” A bitter, self-mocking laugh escaped her lips. “I disgust you? Arthur, I have loved you for ten years. For you, I fought with my parents, I gave up my scholarship to study abroad, I even turned my back on my best friend. And all I get in return is that I disgust you?” “Yes!” The word was a weapon, sharp and immediate. “Compared to Sophie, you don’t even deserve to carry her shoes. Sophie is gentle and kind and never asks for anything. And you? Your mind is a labyrinth of schemes! If it weren’t for the Lynn family name, I would never have given you a second glance!” “Let me be perfectly clear. Even if we get married, I will never see you as my wife! You are just the public face of this merger. The woman I recognize, the only one in my heart, will always be Sophie.” His words were daggers, each one plunging deeper into Jessica’s heart. Her face turned a deathly gray, and her body trembled uncontrollably. The light in her eyes extinguished, flicker by painful flicker. 3 I held Jessica, my own body trembling with a rage that was both fresh and ancient. “Arthur, you have no proof. How can you accuse her like this? You believe every word Sophie says, but you won’t listen to a single thing from Jessica?” Arthur sneered. “Proof? Sophie’s word is all the proof I need. She would never lie to me. But you, Anna… you and Jessica are two of a kind. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re plotting.” “One of you drugs me, the other fakes a kidnapping. All this drama just to climb into my bed. You two really are best friends, aren’t you? Even your pathetic methods are the same.” The weight of my past life’s misery crashed down on me. I lifted my chin, my voice raw with fury. “I must have been blind to ever love a man like you, someone who can’t tell right from wrong! Arthur Ashford, mark my words. From this day forward, you and I are done.” Sophie, nestled in Arthur’s arms, glanced at us, a flicker of triumph in her eyes. Jessica grabbed my hand, her voice chillingly calm. “It doesn’t matter. Let him think what he wants.” “Anna, let’s go.” Once we were out of the room, Jessica could no longer hold it in. She collapsed against the hallway wall, sobbing uncontrollably. I rubbed her back, my own heart aching with the echoes of my past life’s pain. Her words were choked and broken. “I’m such an idiot. I knew he didn’t love me, but I just had to throw myself at him. And now… now I’m just some cheap, pathetic woman he thinks he can sleep with and discard.” “It’s not your fault,” I whispered. “He’s the one who’s blind.” I took a deep breath. “After all this, do you still want to marry him?” She shook her head, her body limp with defeat. “Anna, now I understand why you… in your last life… I regret it. I don’t want to marry him.” “But I have no way out. If I call off the wedding, my family offends the entire Ashford dynasty. It’s a gamble I can’t afford to take…” I looked down, an idea taking root in my mind. “I have a plan,” I said softly. “Let’s get you home first.” When we got back to her house, Jessica’s parents met us with grim faces. “Jessica, the Ashfords just called,” her father said, his voice heavy. “They said if we don’t issue a public apology, they’re pulling all their investments from Lynn Industries.” “The Ashfords hold all the power. One word from them and we’ll be ruined in this city. I told you not to chase after that boy, but you wouldn’t listen! Now our entire family has to pay for your mistake!” her mother cried, her eyes red and swollen. “What did you do?” Jessica froze, her face a mask of disbelief. “Make me apologize? I didn’t do anything wrong. Why should I apologize? If he’s not happy, he can just call off the wedding!” As the words left her mouth, her face went pale. Our eyes met. She understood. Sophie was, on the surface, just an influencer who had clawed her way up from nothing. To high society, she was a nobody, unsuitable for the role of an Ashford wife. No matter how much Arthur despised Jessica, he needed the Lynn family name. He would never let her go. “But we can’t afford to offend them!” her mother pleaded. “Lynn Industries is completely dependent on their investments. If they pull out, we’re finished! You need to call them and apologize right now. It doesn’t matter if it was your fault or not. We have to save the company!” My own parents arrived then, their expressions just as dark. “Anna, the Ashfords pressured us, too. They said if you keep helping Jessica, our family’s projects are finished.” Looking at our desperate parents, Jessica and I exchanged a look of shared defeat. We could sacrifice our own pride, but we couldn’t destroy our families. In the end, we were the ones who had fallen for Arthur. It was our mistake, and we had to be the ones to pay for it. Jessica wiped away her tears, her voice suddenly firm. “I’m not calling off the engagement.” She paused, then added, “But I’m not marrying him, either.” Our parents stared at us, utterly confused. I knew exactly what she meant. “That’s right,” I said. “We can just swap the bride.”

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My brother is the tragic second male lead in a novel. Right now, heartbroken over the heroine, he’s about to kill himself. I don’t try to talk him out of it. Instead, I lie down on a hotel bed and create a few fake hickeys on my neck. Then, I set up my phone to take a photo from a “boyfriend’s” point of view. Using the persona of some bleach-blond punk, I anonymously send the picture to my brother. “Ur sister is so hot. Decided im gonna marry her. I know im just some punk but ill make her happy. Can u just like, back off?” Then, a follow-up: “Also, shes so fine, my bae 4 life. Ill protect her forever. We gonna be makin out every day.” My brother, with the barrel of a gun pressed to his temple, sees the two messages. His vision goes black. He grits his teeth. With his left hand, he crushes his phone. With his right, he crumples the gun’s steel barrel. Suicide attempt: postponed. There’s a punk out there trying to mess with his sister. And he’s going to kill him. 1 I was an orphan, living on the streets. When I was six years old, a group of men grabbed me, took me to a sprawling mansion, and threw me at the feet of a young man named Sebastian Knight, an heir to one of the city’s most powerful families. That’s when I heard the voices—one was Sebastian’s, the other was something else entirely. The voice was cold and mechanical. “Sebastian Knight, she is the malicious supporting character. She will bring pain to the female lead. You must kill her now to protect the heroine.” I froze. I’m a what? A malicious… character? What does that even mean? Are they… going to kill me? Sebastian let out a lazy sigh and swiveled in his leather chair. A gun was in his hand. Our eyes met. He blinked, then let out a short, incredulous laugh. He pointed at me. “You can’t be serious,” he said to the empty air. “You’re telling me this six-year-old is the villain? What’s she gonna do, attack the heroine with a Barbie water pistol?” The System explained, “She is young now, but when she grows up, she will cause the heroine immense suffering.” They were talking so much. I was so hungry my head was spinning. I couldn’t focus on anything else. I tugged on the hem of Sebastian’s expensive trousers and looked up at him. “Brother,” I whispered, “I want to eat.” The System gasped. “As expected of the beautiful and cunning villainess! Such a powerful move! Truly terrifying! Sebastian, cover your eyes! Don’t let her cuteness sway you! Kill her!” Sebastian paused. “Tch, but she called me brother.” The System’s voice was grave. “Think of the heroine you love. Would you want to see her hurt?” At the mention of the heroine, Sebastian’s expression hardened. He raised the gun. But then, his gaze fell on my skinny, frail arms. He hesitated. “No rush,” he told the System. “Even prisoners on death row get a last meal. We can kill her after she’s eaten.” After I ate, I got sleepy. “Brother, I want to sleep.” The System sighed. “While it’s true she is rather cute, and pitifully small and thin… still! Sebastian, we cannot afford to be soft. Even if she calls us brother, we must not falter!” That set Sebastian off. “Hey, what’s this ‘we’? She only called me brother! Don’t you go getting a big head, you useless System!” They argued for a while. By the time they were done, I had curled up on the rug and fallen fast asleep. The System sighed again. “Let’s get back to business. Kill her quickly.” Sebastian looked down at my sleeping form. “No rush,” he said. “We’ll kill her after she wakes up. It’s bad manners to ambush someone in their sleep.” The System considered this. “True. And when she wakes up, she might even call us brother again… Er, I mean, it will be easier to kill her when she’s awake.” 2 Three months passed. Every single day, Sebastian and the System would plan my demise. And every single day, they’d decide, “No rush, no rush.” Finally, Sebastian declared that my education couldn’t be neglected. The System agreed that this was a valid point. And so, together, they gave me a new name, Aria, and enrolled me in the finest elementary school. From that day on, Sebastian stopped revolving his world around the heroine. Because now, he had to revolve it around my teachers. “Excuse me, teacher, why are two hairs missing from my Aria’s left eyebrow today? If anything happens to her, I will have this entire school razed to the ground!” “Teacher, in this class photo, why isn’t my Aria standing front and center?! For God’s sake, she’s clearly the most beautiful child here! Do you think I donate millions to this school every year for nothing?” The overbearing CEO in him was beginning to bloom. And the little devil in me was, too. The principal started calling Sebastian directly. “Mr. Knight, hello, yes. The thing is, today in class, Aria was caught hiding all the boys’ gym shorts. They’re quite upset.” Sebastian’s reply was deadpan. “Boys don’t need gym shorts. Tell them to stand still and let Aria have her fun.” The principal was speechless. Of course, when I got into too much trouble, Sebastian would try to discipline me. Like the time my teacher called him. “Mr. Knight, I saw Aria reading a book in class that wasn’t part of the curriculum. At first, I thought it was The Call of the Wild and was so pleased she was an admirer of classic literature. But then I looked closer… and it was The Call of the Wild Thing.” Sebastian was about to punish me, but that’s when the System would inevitably sigh in his head. “You know, she’s never had parents. She’s only ever had you.” “Go on, Sebastian. Yell at her. Look at her, just standing there, watching you. She’s not pitiful at all. Not one bit.” That was my cue. I’d look up at Sebastian, take his large hand in both of my small ones, and blink my big, innocent eyes. And just like that, his resolve would crumble. The 500-word apology essay he’d assigned me would become 300 words, then 100. Finally, he told me to just write five words. He was probably expecting “Brother, I am so sorry.” But when he opened the note, it read: “☆I love you, brother☆”. He and the System both gasped in unison. Tears welled up in their eyes, and they couldn’t bring themselves to say another harsh word to me. Heh. This young villainess has a few tricks up her sleeve. 3 I had, however, seen Sebastian truly angry once. He was on a date with the heroine, Seraphina Vale. It was supposed to be an important one. According to the plot, this was the date where he would fall completely in love with her. But just as he arrived, he got a call from my principal. “Mr. Knight, it’s a disaster! We had a school cooking activity today, and Aria’s green beans weren’t cooked all the way through! The entire class of thirty students is being rushed to the hospital! Your Aria… she’s turned into the school’s own Typhoid Mary!” Sebastian had to abandon his date with Seraphina to clean up my mess. I remember it so clearly. It was the first time he ever lost his temper in front of me. He stormed into the principal’s office and roared, “Idiots! They knew Aria was cooking! Why didn’t they think to take an antidote beforehand? Have they considered the psychological trauma this will inflict on my Aria? What if she’s too scared to eat now? She’s already so thin! And you people have the audacity to frighten her further!” The principal, drenched in a cold sweat, nodded furiously. “You’re absolutely right, Mr. Knight! These children today have no foresight! How could they not take an antidote? I’ll have a word with them! I do hope Miss Aria wasn’t too frightened. Please, don’t be angry…” Still, Sebastian was worried that the Great Green Bean Incident would make the other kids avoid me. So, he sent each of the thirty hospitalized students a little get-well gift: a deed to a condo in downtown Manhattan and the keys to a brand-new Rolls-Royce. Every single one of them woke up to find a property title and a car key on their bedside table. They were ecstatic. They asked each other if they had died and gone to heaven. In the end, not a single student held a grudge against me. In fact, many of them started begging me to be their personal chef and cook them some more undercooked green beans. Ever since I got my brother, life had been pretty great. I thought this as I dodged three classmates who were chasing me with empty bowls. 4 Time flew by. The year I turned sixteen, Sebastian was twenty-seven. One day, I was sitting in class when shimmering text started floating above the ceiling, visible only to me. [Such a shame. Is the devoted second male lead, Sebastian Knight, really about to be written out of the story?] [Yeah, the heroine just got engaged to the male lead. She invited Sebastian to the wedding and even rubbed it in his face, comparing him to her poor-but-proud fiancé. She told him, “Sebastian, your Rolex will never shine as brightly as the ambition in his eyes! I’m marrying him, and I hope I have your blessing.” Sebastian was literally shaking.] [The funny thing is, the poor guy’s ambition is to get rich enough to buy a Rolex. I don’t know what she’s on about.] [Never mind that, in twenty minutes, Sebastian is going to shoot himself. Ugh, he’s my favorite character. It’s so sad. After he dies, his business rivals will ruin his family, and his sister Aria will go from a princess to a pauper. So tragic.] My brother is going to kill himself?! I shot up from my desk and bolted out of the school. I couldn’t let him die. I had to find him! But where would he be? I tried calling, but he wasn’t picking up. The call didn’t go to voicemail; it was being rejected. In a flash of inspiration, I knew what I had to do. I would never make it to him in time, wherever he was. Time for some… unorthodox methods. I ran into a costume shop, bought a cheap, bleach-blond wig, and checked into a shady motel next door. I stuffed a towel inside the wig to give it the shape of a head and laid it on the bed. Then I lay down, pinched my neck to create a few angry-looking hickeys, and tore open the collar of my school uniform. I positioned the fake blond head on my chest, closed my eyes, and set my phone’s camera on a timer. Just like that, I had a scandalous-looking, post-coital selfie, taken from a lover’s perspective. In the photo, a girl with a tired expression sleeps, a glaring hickey on her neck. Her white uniform shirt is undone, and a man with shocking blond hair rests his head on her chest. I sent the photo to my brother from an anonymous number. “Ur sister is so hot. Decided im gonna marry her. I know im just some punk but ill make her happy. Can u just like, back off?” And the follow-up: “Also, shes so fine, my bae 4 life. Ill protect her forever. We gonna be makin out every day.” Less than a second later, a reply came through. “You bastard. Who are you?” “Touch her again, and I will kill you.” The text on the ceiling scrolled frantically. [Wait? Why isn’t the second male lead dying?] [I don’t know, he just started screaming something about a ‘bleach-blond punk’ and ‘I’ll kill you’ and then ran out.] I let out a long, shuddering breath and collapsed onto the bed. The knot of terror in my chest finally loosened, just a little. 5 I knew the show wasn’t over yet. I skipped my afternoon classes. That evening, I deliberately came home wearing high heels and a miniskirt. The massive foyer was dark, which was strange. I reached out and flicked on the lights. And there he was. Sebastian, sitting on the central sofa, with the entire household staff standing in two silent rows behind him. He sat on his throne-like chair, broad shoulders pressed against the red velvet, dark hair falling over his forehead. His narrow eyes were cold, his face an emotionless mask. I jumped. “Sebastian? What are you doing home so early?” He didn’t answer. His cold, dark eyes were locked on me, studying me for a long moment. It was late autumn, and I had a coat over my skirt, along with a thick, gray men’s scarf wrapped around my neck, conveniently hiding the hickeys. His voice was calm, almost unnervingly so. “You skipped class this afternoon. Where did you go?” “Um, I… I was out with friends.” “Friends?” His tone was glacial. “Can’t you find any friends who don’t have bleached-blond hair?” I looked down, hiding the guilt on my face, feeling like a student caught cheating by a teacher. Sebastian stood up. The staff immediately understood and filed out of the room, leaving the two of us alone in the cavernous mansion. He walked toward me, step by step, until he stood right in front of me, casting me completely in his shadow. I only came up to his collarbone, and the pressure was so intense I instinctively took a step back. His voice came from above me. “Take off the scarf.” It was strange. I hadn’t actually done anything wrong, so why did I feel so guilty? I forced a sweet smile and looked up at him. “Brother… wait, have you been busy lately? I missed you. Are you tired? Did you miss me?” He looked down at me, his voice cutting like glass. “Either you take it off, or I will.” Fine. There was no getting out of this. I lowered my head. “I’ll do it.” I moved as slowly as I possibly could, but eventually, the scarf came off. It had barely hit the floor before Sebastian kicked it away. In the next second, his cold fingers pressed down hard on the most prominent hickey. The touch made me shiver, but he didn’t pull away. He stared down at me. “What is this?” I said nothing. Sebastian’s jaw was clenched so tight I thought it might crack. “Aria, you’re sixteen, for fuck’s sake! How far did you go with him?” My face burned. I turned away. “It’s none of your business.” He straightened up, looking down at me from his full height, his voice dropping to absolute zero. “I’m going to ask you one last time. Are you going to tell me, or not?” I stared up at him, stunned. From the day he took me in, Sebastian had done nothing but spoil and protect me. I had caused every kind of trouble imaginable, but he had never, ever looked at me like this. His expression was terrifying. It made my blood run cold. If only the System were here. It might have been able to reason with him. But it was off on a mission in another world. I knew I had to keep the act going. Sebastian needed something to live for, something to be angry about. My body started to tremble. Then, I threw myself onto the floor and burst into tears. “I won’t tell you! Why do you keep grilling me like this? You can do anything for Seraphina because you love her! Well, I love my boyfriend, and I can do anything for him too! All I did was love him, what’s so wrong with that? Why are you interrogating me like a criminal? Get away from me!” After that passionate, unhinged, love-crazed monologue, the room fell silent. Sebastian’s expression didn’t change much, but his eyes lost their focus for a moment, as if something had just clicked into place in his mind. He froze, looking down at me, and muttered in disbelief, “Did you… learn this from me?” He stared at the weeping girl on the floor, and it seemed to become hard for him to breathe. Of course a child would grow up to be like the person who raised them. Her current love-crazed state was entirely his fault. He had given everything for Seraphina, so she had learned to do the same. She, too, would give everything for the one she loved, without a thought for the consequences. Even her own body.

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