Category: English

The day before my boyfriend, Ethan, and I were supposed to get engaged, we were having lunch. He suddenly said, “I had a dream about Sarah last night.” “She was gorgeous. Pale skin, long legs, and her voice was so soft.” He laughed it off immediately. “Just kidding, babe. Don’t take it seriously.” I didn’t think much of it until I saw the chat history between Ethan and Sarah. They worked together on the Student Council. They shared the mundane details of their days. They talked about their dreams over drinks at the local dive bar. Later, I got into Columbia Law School. Ethan got rejected everywhere. He cried, begging me to take him back. I just laughed coldly. “Go back to dreaming about her.” Chapter 1 “I had a weird dream about Sarah from my department last night.” “I have to admit, she’s got a great figure. And her legs… they’re flawless. No scars.” I was eating lunch with Ethan in the campus dining hall when he dropped that comment out of nowhere. My hand, holding the fork, froze mid-air. I looked down at the jeans I wore from summer through fall. There is a long, jagged scar running down my calf. It happened when we were kids. Ethan fell off his bike in the alley behind our houses. I rushed to help him and scraped my leg against a rusty fence. Ten years have passed. The wound healed, but the scar remains—a shocking, ugly mark. Ethan quickly tried to backtrack. “I mean, Sarah is pretty, but you’re cuter. You have more… character.” I kept my head down, saying nothing. My fingernails dug deep into my palms. Ethan never made jokes like that. What was wrong with him today? A woman’s intuition is rarely wrong. I felt a knot tighten in my stomach. Ethan didn’t notice my mood shift at all. He kept smiling, talking about our plans after graduation. He said after we finish our grad school applications and get engaged, we’d buy a condo. He said we’d decorate it in that Modern Farmhouse style I liked. It would have a big backyard. We could barbecue in the summer and watch the snow fall from the bay window in the winter. He even said if I didn’t want kids, he would respect my decision 100%. Finally, realizing my hands were ice cold, Ethan stood up. “Babe, I’ll go grab you a hot latte.” “Wear an extra layer tomorrow, okay? It’s getting chilly.” I watched his back as he walked away, my heart a mess of conflicting emotions. The truth is, Ethan treated me well. We were childhood sweethearts. Middle school, high school, college—our paths were identical. We’ve known each other for fifteen years. We’ve dated for four. We occupied the biggest chapters of each other’s lives. He remembered my cycle. He remembered my food allergies. He loved surprising me. But that random comment he made just now… it made me panic. I couldn’t tell if he was being honest or just making a stupid joke. In my confusion, I glanced at Ethan’s phone, which he’d left on the table. The screen was still lit. It was open to a chat window. My heart dropped. The profile picture was a girl. A very pretty girl. The contact name was saved as “Sarah.” Driven by a ghost, I reached out and started scrolling. The latest message was sent five minutes ago. Sarah: Ethan, what are you up to? Ethan: With the girlfriend. She wanted steak, so I’m playing the good boyfriend for our anniversary. Sarah: … Ethan continued typing. Ethan: By the way, do you like steak? I can pack some for you. Sarah: It’s fine. I’m not busy tonight. I can swing by and drop that thing off. My finger trembled as I scrolled. While Ethan was sitting across from me, playing the perfect partner, he was texting her. Just seconds before, he had tenderly asked what flavor latte I wanted. I bit my lip and scrolled back further. Three days ago. Ethan: Morning, Sarah. Sarah. I suddenly remembered a package I received a few days ago. The recipient’s name was just “S.” inside was a set of black lace lingerie. I was confused, but Ethan called me right away. He said his sister bought it. He used his sister’s Amazon account to buy me gifts sometimes. She must have forgotten to switch the address. It was a funny mix-up. His tone was so sincere. I believed him. I even joked, “You should buy me a set next time.” Time ticked by. My hands were shaking uncontrollably now. Three days ago. One week ago. One month ago. The chat history went back forever. I scrolled until my thumb hurt, but there was no end. Greetings, memes, life updates—they filled every hour of every day. He edited her essays. He brought her an umbrella when it rained. He fixed the leak in her dorm. She brought him lunch. She picked up his packages. She sewed a button on his shirt. A few months ago, my dad passed away. I knelt before my father’s casket, eyes swollen from crying. I told my dad that Ethan was good to me. That he was responsible and knew his boundaries. That he was a man worth trusting for a lifetime. My mom was happy with Ethan too. She said even though we weren’t married, he ran around helping with the funeral like a true son-in-law. Everything was moving forward, steady and happy. So where did this rot come from? Just then, a steaming Hazelnut Latte was placed in front of me. Ethan was as gentle as ever. Half-sugar, extra hot, just how I like it for my cramps. “Chloe, I got it extra hot for you.” Chapter 2 Before he returned, I had already locked the phone and put it back exactly where it was. The steam from the latte spiraled up into the air and vanished, just like my trust. Ethan has been in my life for as long as I can remember. The night of our high school graduation, he texted me to come out and watch the fireworks. I ran downstairs in my pajamas and bumped into him. His face was flushed red. Ethan asked me, “Will you be my girlfriend?” I asked him, “Why me?” He stuttered, “Because… because you’re beautiful.” I wasn’t beautiful. High school was nothing but studying, dark circles, and rough skin. But in that moment, something possessed me, and I nodded. Ethan smiled like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Fireworks exploded the second I nodded, lighting up the dark sky. Because we grew up together, our college relationship was incredibly smooth. In four years, we never had a screaming match. We never even blushed with anger. I thought life would continue this way. Study, Grad School, Engagement, Family. But as senior year came to a close, the ground shifted. Ethan’s “joke” and those chat logs became a thorn lodged in my heart. It made me question everything. He could celebrate our anniversary while texting another girl with complete composure. Did he change? Or was he just an Oscar-worthy actor this whole time? Ethan didn’t notice my silence. He kept chatting about the engagement. “After the LSATs in December, let’s have the engagement party.” “My parents are already prepping. They love you so much.” I quietly pulled my hand out of his. It felt like a thousand tiny needles were pricking my heart. Ethan finally sensed something was off. “Chloe? What’s wrong?” Yeah, what was wrong? We’ve loved each other for years. We grew up together. We were about to get engaged. Everyone was happy. Everything was perfect. So why did it feel like the world was ending? I looked up, tears blurring my vision. Ethan panicked instantly. “Chloe, why are you crying?” “Was the steak bad? We can go somewhere else tomorrow…” Looking at his concerned face—the same face I’ve loved for years—I felt a wave of nausea. The more he cared, the more I suffered. It felt like everything I owned was a hologram. After a long silence, I nodded slightly. “Let’s… let’s talk about the engagement later.” Chapter 3 Ethan didn’t understand why I was suddenly moody, but he patiently walked me home. As I walked up the stairs to my apartment, his texts came in. Ethan: The stairwell is dark, use your flashlight. Ethan: Also, throw out that yogurt in the fridge if it’s expired. I’ll buy you fresh ones tomorrow. Ethan: Maybe engaging right after the exams is too rushed. We can take it slow. No pressure. I cleared the notifications. I bit my lip and didn’t reply. The moment I unlocked my door, the calmness I forced myself to maintain shattered. I collapsed, sobbing until I couldn’t breathe. When I was too tired to cry, I opened my phone. I looked at the screenshots I had secretly airdropped to myself during lunch. Maybe I was still delusional. I wanted to prove that a fifteen-year bond couldn’t just dissolve like smoke. But the more I looked, the colder I felt. One week ago, Ethan sent Sarah a song. Sarah replied with a cute sticker. I checked the timestamp: 5:23 PM. At that exact moment, Ethan was with me at Barnes & Noble, buying my LSAT prep books. Two weeks ago, Sarah complained about cramps. Ethan replied: Leave it to me. At that time, we were on a FaceTime call. Two months ago, Sarah said she was feeling down. Ethan replied: I’ll wrap this up and come have a drink with you. I looked at the date. September 11th. I took a sharp breath. The pain was physical. September 11th was the day my dad died of liver cancer. It was the day of his funeral. Ethan looked so sad that day. So heartbroken. He held me tight and whispered, “Chloe, don’t be scared. I’ll always be with you.” I looked into his sincere eyes and truly believed he was my salvation in a dark world. But three minutes after comforting me, he effortlessly switched off his grief to text another girl. The betrayal wrapped around me like vines, suffocating me. It wasn’t just these three moments. It was everything. Ethan’s life wasn’t just about me. His timeline was cluttered with Sarah’s shadow. I called my mom, my hands shaking. “Mom, I’m going to break up with Ethan.” I told her everything. But my mom was silent for a long time. Then she said: “Honey… just tolerate it.” I felt like I was drowning. I screamed into the phone. “Mom! I dated him for four years! He’s been talking to her for four years!” My mom sighed. “But Chloe, they’re just chatting. They didn’t go to a hotel.” “Maybe they are just friends. Don’t overthink it.” “Besides, you don’t have proof of actual cheating, do you?” I froze. Then I laughed. Right. Ethan and Sarah are just “soulmates.” Strictly speaking, he didn’t cheat physically. To an outsider, I was the one making a scene over nothing. “Ethan is practically a son to me,” my mom continued. “He’s a good kid.” “Listen to me. Forgive him this once.” “Relationships have bumps. You two are about to get engaged. His parents love you. Is it worth throwing it all away over this?” Click. I hung up. I slumped against the sofa, my head pounding, gasping for air. Even my own mother was telling me not to leave him. For a second, I doubted myself. Was I being petty? But every time I thought of our intimate moments, I saw her shadow. I saw his disloyalty. It felt like a ball of cotton was stuck in my throat. I couldn’t spit it out, and I couldn’t swallow it. Suddenly, my screen lit up. Ethan: Babe, I can’t go to the library with you tomorrow. Something came up. Study hard for me! I laughed out loud, tears still streaming down my face. Tomorrow is Sarah’s birthday. I saw it mentioned in a chat from a month ago. Ethan really is attentive. He remembers our anniversary, and he remembers her birthday. If he hadn’t made that stupid joke, I never would have checked his phone. I never would have known that behind our perfect romance lay such a filthy truth. I stared at his text until the screen blurred. Finally, my finger hovered over the send button. Chloe: Let’s break up. Chapter 4 After sending the text, I took a deep breath and blocked Ethan on everything. We never fought. Even our breakup was terrifyingly quiet. I remember the kiss he gave me under the fireworks. Pure. Shy. A feather-light touch on my cheek. He said he’d waited a long time for that. He said he’d never let go of my hand. His eyes were so bright. I believed him for so many years. On the sofa sat a blue plush bunny Ethan brought back from his study abroad trip. I suddenly remembered a text from Sarah. She asked him to bring her a bunny. She wanted pink. Ethan said yes. Shortly after that, he called me. Chloe, they were out of pink bunnies. Is blue okay? Actually, I prefer pink. But I smiled and said, “I love anything you get me.” I didn’t realize that even in gift-giving, Sarah came first. He didn’t “fail” to get the pink one. The pink one just had a better owner. And that owner wasn’t me. Sorrow hit me like a tidal wave. I can handle fights. I can handle disagreements. But I cannot handle being the second option disguised as the first. I started purging the apartment. I tore up photos. I threw away gifts. Until I saw the ring box on the corner of the table. I broke down wailing. I remembered what he said when he got down on one knee. “Chloe, I will only be good to you for the rest of my life.” Promises are as fragile as glass. … I cried until I passed out on the rug. The grief wrecked my stomach. I woke up the next morning and vomited bile. Bitter. Salty. Like my tears. I locked myself in the dark apartment. No water. No food. I just sat in the corner, replaying everything. The signs were there a year ago. The way he giggled at his phone. The new emojis he started using. That “wrong address” lingerie. But I was too confident in our history. I filtered out the red flags. When I looked at my phone again, I had dozens of missed calls from Ethan. I deleted them. I put on a coat and walked out. I needed air. I walked past the Student Union building. There was an “Honor Roll” board. I saw Ethan immediately. A group of girls was standing there, gossiping. “That’s President Ethan. And that’s Sarah, the VP.” “They are so nice. They got sponsors for us in the rain, and they always buy us snacks.” “Yeah, last week Ethan bought us those expensive Godiva chocolates.” I froze. Godiva chocolates. That was the birthday gift I gave Ethan last week. He told me he loved them, so I saved up money from my tutoring gig to buy them. And he gave them away? To the club? My nails dug into my palms until they bled. One of the girls noticed me. “Hey, you look familiar… oh! You’re the girl in President Ethan’s cover photo!” Another girl leaned in, eyes sparkling. “You must be so happy being his girlfriend. He’s so gentle and attentive. We’re all so jealous.” I gave a bitter laugh. Ethan was great. Everyone who met him praised him. That impeccable reputation is why no one believes he failed me. Even my mom sided with him. It wasn’t winter yet, but I felt frozen to the bone. I nodded stiffly. “Thanks.” I turned around, tears falling freely. Behind me, they kept talking about how great he was. I walked aimlessly down the path. Ding. Since I blocked him on WhatsApp, he sent an SMS. Ethan: Stop joking about breaking up. Ethan: It’s getting cold today. Wear a jacket. If yesterday hadn’t happened, I would have smiled and replied, You too. But time doesn’t reverse. The balance and happiness Ethan carefully maintained collapsed the moment I saw those texts. Realizing the love around you was a mirage is a million times more painful than never being loved at all. I unblocked Ethan on WeChat. I posted a “Moments” update visible only to him. It was a stock photo of two hands holding tight. Caption: We finally made it official today. Minutes later, a message popped up. Ethan: Who did you make it official with? I’m your boyfriend! Ethan: Please. Don’t leave me.

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The shove woke me at two a.m. Wesley’s voice was a frantic hiss: “Get up! Pack a bag. We have to go, now.” I was still swimming in the haze of sleep, barely grasping what was happening, but he was already stuffing random items into a duffel bag, his hands shaking. “What is it?” I mumbled, my voice thick. “The neighbors across the hall,” he gasped, pulling me toward the door. “Something happened. I heard a huge commotion. Sirens—they’re everywhere.” We fled into the night, stumbling into the nearest chain hotel, The Hampton Court Inn. Once inside, he behaved like a man escaping a battlefield, repeatedly checking the window latches and deadbolt. We didn’t sleep. Hiding in the sterile glow of the room, an unsettling feeling crept into the space between us. Something wasn’t right. His friend called the next morning. A long, chilling pause hung in the air, followed by a single sentence that stole our breath: “Only you two are left alive in the whole building.” 01 The air in the hotel room was clotted thick, like old blood. The harsh white light from the ceiling fixture beat down on Wesley Shaw’s face, which was etched with terror and the aftershock of what he thought we’d escaped. He paced the room like a caged animal, muttering the same phrases over and over. “That was close, Sophia. We were this close to being caught in it.” “Thank God I heard the noise. Thank God I reacted so fast.” I huddled in the corner of the bed, my arms wrapped around my knees. My body was still trembling. Part of it was the sheer horror of the “murder” he’d described, but the other part was a bizarre, chilling sense that something was fundamentally wrong. “Were there really sirens, Wesley?” I finally asked, my voice a dry croak. My mind was blank. From the moment he’d dragged me out of bed to the second we crashed into this room, the entire sequence felt like an absurd dream. I hadn’t heard a single sound. The whole apartment building had been silent as a tomb. “Of course, I heard them! Blaring down the whole street!” he insisted, his voice sharp, laced with the subtle sting of a man who feels his version of reality has been questioned. “Maybe you just sleep heavier than I do.” He came over, his voice softening, and reached out to touch my hair. I instinctively pulled away, dodging his hand. His arm froze mid-air, then he casually dropped it to his side. “Don’t be scared, I’m here.” He sat on the edge of the bed and tried to pull me into a hug. “It’s over now. We’re safe.” I didn’t resist the embrace, but my body remained rigid, unyielding. The combined smell of stale tobacco and a sharp, unfamiliar cologne hit me. My stomach lurched. Three years of marriage, and Wesley never wore cologne. “I’m thirsty,” I lied, gently pushing him away. “Oh, right. I’ll get you some water.” He was on his feet instantly, his solicitousness almost unnerving. He brought me a cup of lukewarm water and watched as I took small sips. The way he looked at me wasn’t one of care; it was a gaze of surveillance. “Sophia, hand me your phone,” he suddenly said. My hand tightened around the cup. “Why?” “We don’t know what’s going on. What if the killer hasn’t been caught? They could track us through the signal.” He explained it with a solemnity that seemed unimpeachable. “Every device is a risk. We can’t contact anyone, for absolute security.” The reason sounded watertight. Yet, the deep knot of my unease only tightened. He took my phone, powered it down, and removed the SIM card. Then he did the same with his own regular phone, locking all the evidence into the hotel’s safe. Finished, he let out a long breath, as if he had just defused a massive bomb. I was officially an information island. That entire night, the lights stayed on. Wesley barely closed his eyes, checking the locks and windows every thirty minutes, playing the role of the shell-shocked husband to perfection. I lay on the bed, my eyes closed, pretending to sleep. Around four a.m., I heard him get up. His footsteps were almost silent as he crept toward the small balcony. The curtain had a slight gap. I slowly opened my eyes and watched him reach into his pocket, pulling out a burner phone I’d never seen before. His voice was a low whisper, but in the dead stillness of the room, every syllable was a pinprick, a sliver of ice in the dark. “Relax. She bought it.” “Yeah, got both phones. Dumb as a box of rocks.” “Next step is exactly as planned.” “The money will be in my account soon.” His tone was relaxed, even smug, a stark contrast to the terrified man who had held me moments before. All the blood in my body seemed to freeze instantly. The source of the crushing dread I’d felt finally revealed itself. This entire terrifying midnight escape, from beginning to end, was nothing more than an elaborate, tailor-made ruse. And I, his wife, was the prey he was setting up for the kill. I slowly closed my eyes, forcing the rising tide of emotion back into my chest. My fingernails dug deep into my palms, leaving bloody crescent marks. 02 Late the next morning, a shrill phone call sliced through the fragile calm of the room. It was Wesley’s regular phone, the one he’d placed on the nightstand. He jumped up from the sofa, answered, and put it on speaker. “Hello? Wes, are you two okay?” It was Mitch, his friend from college. “Mitch? How did you get this number? I told you not to contact me!” Wesley’s voice was filled with a convincing mix of alertness and panic. “I…” Mitch hesitated on the other end. “Wes, you need to brace yourself. I just heard from a cop friend. Your building… The whole floor, man. Only you two made it out alive.” The line was a clap of thunder in the quiet room. I watched Wesley’s body sway, his face instantly draining of color. “What did you say?” His voice was a pathetic tremble. “Did you say… everyone… everyone is gone?” “Yeah, they’re… all gone.” Mitch’s voice sounded genuinely broken. The call ended. Wesley stood frozen, a statue with no soul. A few seconds later, he let out a guttural, earth-shaking howl. “Ahhhhhh—!” He violently hammered his fists into his chest, tears and snot smearing his face. He looked utterly destroyed by grief and terror. “It’s my fault! I should have knocked on their doors! I should have saved them!” He sobbed, collapsing in front of me and pulling me into a crushing hug, his body racked with convulsions. “Sophia, thank God! Thank God I saved you!” “Thank God we’re alive!” His performance was so raw, so utterly convincing, that for a moment, I almost doubted my own sanity—maybe the balcony conversation was just a stress-induced hallucination. I reached up, gently stroking his shuddering back, my movements soft, but my gaze was arctic cold. “It’s okay, Wesley. It’s not your fault.” My voice was steady, surprisingly so. He cried for a long time before finally calming down. He looked up at me, red-eyed, the picture of a lost, homeless dog. “Babe, we can’t go back,” he choked out. “That house—it’s a grave now. We can’t live there. It’s too terrible.” I lowered my eyes, waiting. I knew where this was going. “We have to sell the house,” he finally said. “Sell the house, leave this city, and wipe away all the painful memories. We’ll start over.” What a thoughtful suggestion. What a declaration of undying love. If I hadn’t heard that phone call last night, I would have been overwhelmingly moved and would have agreed without hesitation. After all, the apartment was my sole asset, purchased with cash before we married, and only my name was on the deed. “Okay,” I whispered, compliant as a lamb. The hunger in Wesley’s eyes was instantaneous. A flicker of raw, undisguised greed—quick enough that it was gone before most people could register it. “And listen,” he pressed his advantage. “The world is chaos right now. For safety, I need you to give me your ID, your bank cards, everything. I’ll handle the sale of the house. You just rest, okay? Don’t worry about a thing.” The shark finally breached the water. This entire elaborate charade was for one thing: the apartment in my name and the savings in my bank accounts. This man, who I had shared a bed with for three years, was a meticulous, cold-blooded executioner. And he wanted to murder my financial independence. My heart sank to the bottom of a frozen well, devoid of all warmth. “All right,” I said, looking up at him with a pale, dependent smile. “I’ll do whatever you say.” 03 “But…” I frowned slightly, displaying the perfect amount of confusion and distress. “My driver’s license… I think I left it in my desk drawer at the firm.” I saw the barely perceptible twitch in Wesley’s cheek. “Why would you leave it at the office?” His tone was laced with irritation. “I needed a copy for a client file the other day. I used it and just locked it in the drawer, meaning to bring it home the next day, and then… I forgot.” I spun the lie convincingly, my eyes wide with innocence and self-reproach. He stared at me for a few agonizing seconds, judging the truth of my words. I let him watch, keeping my gaze open, even adding a touch of the fragile, shell-shocked look I’d carefully put back on. Finally, my performance won him over. “It’s fine. I’ll drive you to the office right now to get it,” he immediately stated, his tone brooking no argument. He clearly wasn’t going to let me out of his sight. “But what about outside?” I looked at him anxiously. “It’s fine. I’ll wait downstairs. You run up, grab it, and come right back. Nothing will happen.” He patted my hand like I was a frightened child. On the drive to my office tower, he played the radio too loud, perhaps trying to chase the heavy silence from the car. I leaned against the window, watching the city blur by, my brain racing. I had one shot. The car pulled up to the curb. “I’ll be right back down,” I told him. “I’ll be here. Don’t worry.” He offered a gentle, reassuring smile. I turned and walked into the lobby. The moment he couldn’t see me, the fear and dependence vanished from my face. I practically sprinted toward the elevator. Only when the doors closed did I dare to take a deep breath. I rushed into my deserted office, locked the door, and ignored the drawer. I went straight for the desk phone. My hands were shaking, but I quickly punched in the number I knew by heart. It rang only once before a dry, professional voice answered. “Hello?” It was Harper, my best friend. “Harp, it’s me. Sophia.” My voice was thin with adrenaline. “Sophia? You’re calling from a landline? Where’s your phone?” Harper immediately sensed the distress. “No time to explain. Just listen.” I spoke at the speed of thought, condensing everything that had happened since midnight—Wesley’s performance, the sirens, the phone call on the balcony—into a few frantic sentences. A long, stunned silence fell over the line. I could hear her breathing quicken. “That bastard!” Harper’s roar nearly burst my eardrum. “It’s a set-up! The murder? A hundred percent fake. He invented it!” As a financial journalist, Harper was a bloodhound for dirt, far more acute than I was. “Sophia, hold it together. Don’t panic, and whatever you do, don’t let him know you know.” Her voice instantly became calm, a solid anchor I could cling to. “You’re still playing his wife. If he wants the ID? Give him a fake one, an expired one. Buy time.” “I’m on it now. News, police blotters, property records—I’m turning over every single stone. Wait for my call!” “Okay.” After hanging up, I leaned against the desk, utterly drained. The sun shone brightly outside, but I was ice-cold. The call with Harper was a shot of pure adrenaline, pulling me back from the brink of absolute despair. I wasn’t fighting alone. I dug into the bottom of the drawer and pulled out an old, expired state ID. I clutched it, adjusted my breathing, and put on the vulnerable, helpless mask once more.

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The room was crowded on the day I died, my bitter rival among them. Only my husband William was absent—in Iceland with his mistress and their son, watching the Northern Lights. As I took my last breath, his text lit my phone: 【I married you for the family, but you were a good wife. You took the birth control, never asked for children. If there’s a next life, I’d still choose you. Rest in peace.】 Victoria saw it and laughed coldly. 【You were never fit to be Mrs. Grant. Next life, don’t even compete.】 I never imagined her words would come true. When I woke, we were back at the Grant family lottery, deciding our fates. William said coldly, 【Alice, you drew the short straw. You’ll be the young mistress.】 Without hesitation, I pushed the paper into Victoria’s hand. 【The title of Mrs. Grant suits you better.】 1 Mrs. Grant’s face clouded with confusion. 【Alice, dear, your rivalry over William was the talk of the town for years.】 【Now that fate is on your side, why would you refuse it?】 The Lindens, the Winslows, and the Grants were the three unshakable pillars of the city’s elite. We were equals, each keeping to our own affairs. But Victoria and I had both fallen for the same man: William Grant. To avoid offending either of our powerful families, the Grants had devised what they called the fairest solution, a simple draw of lots. In my past life, when I drew the winning straw, I’d cried tears of joy. I had no idea that victory would condemn me to a lifetime of loneliness and quiet suffering. Given a second chance, I didn’t dare accept this twist of fate. I didn’t want it. I answered Mrs. Grant with a calm I didn’t know I possessed. 【Mrs. Grant, I’m not ruthless enough. I fear I wouldn’t be able to manage a family as powerful and complex as yours.】 【Victoria is known for her decisive nature. She is, truly, a much better fit.】 Seeing my resolve, Mrs. Grant turned to her son. 【William? What do you think?】 William was sitting at the table, meticulously pouring tea, and didn’t even bother to look up. 【It doesn’t matter who I marry.】 Of course. When you can’t marry the one you love, anyone else is just a placeholder. William’s true love was a woman named Jessica, the same one he kept as his mistress in our past life. Jessica sold motorcycles. During his sophomore year of college, a friend dragged William to a biker rally. He saw Jessica, wild and free on her bike, and never forgot her. He thought she was thrilling, different from the polished women of our world. He believed that only with her could he live a life of passion. But the vast Grant empire would never permit him to marry a woman with no connections. He had to accept his fate and choose a bride from either the Linden or Winslow family. Since William didn’t object, Mrs. Grant had little else to say. She simply advised us, 【Settle this between yourselves.】 【Our three families have been allies for generations. We can’t let this cause a rift.】 I understood her concern. Victoria and I had both orbited William since we were children. My nature was softer; I never fought for his attention. But Victoria was no pushover. William, seeing me as the gentler of the two, always showed me a little more favor, a little more care. Victoria felt slighted and targeted me at every turn. Accusing me of cheating on exams, spreading rumors that I was a manipulative little snake, it was all just part of our routine. I had grown used to it, rarely getting angry. Only when pushed too far would I offer a weak, half-hearted defense. Now, living this life again and knowing the truth of William’s heart, I realized we were both just clowns in his tragedy. What was the point in fighting anymore? I nodded calmly. 【Don’t worry, Mrs. Grant. Victoria and I have already discussed it. There will be no trouble.】 Only then did she seem satisfied. 【Good. William’s grandfather is very ill and doesn’t have much time. The wedding will be in three days.】 After leaving the Grant estate, Victoria and I had just found a cafe to catch up when William appeared, with Jessica in tow. He wasn’t here for me. He took Jessica’s hand and stood before Victoria, his expression one of entitled certainty. 【Victoria, since our marriage is settled, there’s something you need to know.】 【You know I love Jessica. Marrying you isn’t going to change that. I’m not leaving her.】 【Unless there’s a major family event, I’ll be living with her.】 In my past life, William had said the exact same words to me. It was the first thing he had ever asked of me. I didn’t want to disappoint him, so I agreed. Back then, I believed his infatuation with Jessica was just a phase. Once the novelty wore off, he would come back to our home, to our life. I never realized how deeply he loved her. And Jessica was not the docile woman she pretended to be. Her jealousy was a poison. Every few days, she would find a new way to torment me, from backhanded insults to staging accidents and framing me to drive a wedge between William and me. The reason William never wanted a child with me was because Jessica had orchestrated the “loss” of their first baby, a fall she blamed entirely on me. William believed her. He made me pay for it with a lifetime of childlessness. A familiar bitterness rose in my throat, but Victoria’s voice cut through my thoughts. She laughed, the sound sharp and scornful. 【William, what century do you think this is? You want to play the part of some ancient emperor with a wife and a harem?】 【Listen to me carefully. If you dare move in with Jessica, I will make sure she can never set foot in this city again!】 2 A shiver ran through William. Victoria was famously fierce, but she had always reserved her gentler side for him. He didn’t know we had both been reborn, so he couldn’t comprehend her sudden transformation. He assumed Jessica’s presence had provoked her and softened his tone. 【Victoria, don’t be ridiculous. Jessica’s pregnant.】 【She needs me to take care of her.】 Victoria wasn’t buying it. She shot a cold look at Jessica. 【She’s a grown woman. If she can’t even take care of herself while pregnant, what business does she have having a baby?】 【She should just get rid of it.】 Jessica’s face went deathly pale. William was beside himself with worry for her. He dropped the pretense, his face darkening with anger. 【Victoria, shut your mouth.】 【Jessica and I have wanted this baby for a long time. We are not getting rid of it.】 Victoria shrugged, completely unfazed. 【Do what you want. But remember this: if you move in with her after we’re married, I have a thousand ways to make you regret it.】 As if disgusted by their very presence, Victoria grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the cafe. But Jessica followed us out alone. She caught Victoria’s sleeve, her face a mask of pitiful distress. 【Miss Winslow, I know you don’t like me, but the baby is innocent. He can’t be born without a father.】 【Please, I’m begging you, don’t push us into a corner.】 I instinctively glanced back at the cafe. Just as I expected, William was watching us, his gaze fixed and intense. A chill went down my spine. This was exactly what happened in my past life. Seven days after William and I were married, he announced he was moving out. I tried to stop him, and then Jessica came to me alone, pleading and apologizing. She had grabbed my arm just like this, then faked a fall down the stairs, creating the illusion that I had pushed her and caused a miscarriage. My heart leaped into my throat. I had to warn Victoria. But before I could speak, Jessica was already repeating her act, tilting her head back and letting her body fall backward. This time, she wasn’t framing me, but after everything, Victoria had become my friend in those final days of my previous life. I couldn’t let it happen. But at the last second, Victoria’s hand shot out, grabbing a fistful of Jessica’s collar. She turned to me, her eyes burning. 【Was this the baby she used to frame you? The reason you could never have children?】 I gave a heavy nod. Victoria’s gaze snapped back to Jessica, a cruel smile playing on her lips. 【To pull a stunt this dirty, you must not want this baby very much.】 【In that case, let me help you out. It’ll save you the trouble of framing me.】 And with that, Victoria let go. Jessica tumbled backward onto the street. A car, turning the corner too quickly, had no time to swerve. The front of the car slammed hard into Jessica’s stomach. From a distance, William sprinted toward us, his eyes a terrifying shade of red. He cradled Jessica’s blood-soaked body, his furious glare fixed on Victoria. 【Victoria, you’re a monster!】 【Someone like you doesn’t deserve to be a Grant!】 【I wouldn’t marry you now if you got on your knees and begged me.】 Then, his eyes found mine, and his voice was filled with an arrogant, unshakeable command. 【Alice, go home and get ready. You’re marrying me in three days!】 Before I could even refuse, the ambulance had arrived. William climbed in with Jessica, not sparing me another glance. As the ambulance disappeared down the street, I turned to Victoria. 【This is what my life was like.】 【Now that you’ve seen it, do you still want to marry him?】 Victoria looked dazed, lost in thought. After a long moment, she finally answered. 【I have one last thing to do. If he disappoints me again, I’ll give you my answer.】 With that, she pulled out her phone and made a call. 【Dad, can you meet me at the hospital…?】 3 I understood Victoria’s hesitation completely. Because I, too, was once that unwilling to let go. William believed Jessica’s lies, misunderstanding me time and time again. My friends urged me to divorce him. But he was the man I had loved since childhood. I just couldn’t bear to leave. So I kept telling myself he was just bewitched, that it wasn’t the real him. Again and again, I convinced myself to forgive him. I knew that when it comes to matters of the heart, you have to find your own way out. No one can do it for you. So I didn’t press her. I just said calmly, 【Alright. Whatever you need to do, I’ll go with you.】 By the time we reached the hospital, Jessica was awake and stable. The moment we stepped into the room, William shielded her protectively. 【Victoria, Jessica lost the baby. I haven’t even settled the score with you, and you have the nerve to show your face here?】 A flash of pain crossed Victoria’s eyes. 【William, I wasn’t trying to hurt her,】 she explained. 【She was trying to set me up. I was just defending myself.】 Jessica immediately began to sob. 【William, no, I wasn’t.】 【I just wanted to apologize to Miss Winslow in private, to beg her to forgive me and stop putting so much pressure on you.】 【But she wouldn’t listen. She called our baby a bastard who didn’t deserve to be born.】 【William, it’s all my fault. I’m not good enough for you. Maybe… maybe we should just end this…】 Panic seized William. He pulled her into his arms, kissing her forehead tenderly. 【Don’t say such foolish things. You’re the only person in the world who is good enough for me!】 He turned back to Victoria, his face a dark mask. 【Victoria, I told you, the wedding is off.】 【In three days, I’m marrying into the Linden family.】 Victoria scoffed. 【William, you really think if you don’t marry me, Alice will just…】 【I will.】 My voice was quiet, but it was enough to make Victoria stare at me, utterly stunned. I didn’t explain myself to her yet. I just continued, speaking to William. 【The Linden family will proceed with the union.】 【But Miss Jessica is unwell, and you probably don’t have the mind for wedding preparations. I’ll handle everything.】 【In three days, you can come directly to the Linden estate to pick up the bride. We can file the marriage license later.】 William was stunned, then a relieved smile spread across his face. 【Alice, you’ve always been the gentle and understanding one.】 I held up a hand to stop him. 【But I have one condition.】 【I saw what happened today. Victoria was telling the truth.】 【So, your Jessica needs to apologize to her.】 Jessica whined, clinging to him. 【William, she’s lying about me…】 William’s brow furrowed, his voice laced with annoyance. 【Alice, I thought you were better than this. I can’t believe you’re just as bad as Victoria!】 I gave a bitter, self-deprecating laugh. 【William, the three of us grew up together. We know each other better than anyone.】 【Why won’t you believe us?】 He snorted with disdain. 【Because I know Jessica even better!】 【Every time we go on a ride, she insists on visiting the local nursing homes and orphanages, buying food and clothes for them.】 【How could someone so kind possibly frame Victoria?!】 【I think the two of you are just consumed by jealousy, ganging up on her!】 【If my family wasn’t forcing my hand, I would never in a million years have considered either of you!】 A wave of disappointment, identical to Victoria’s, washed over me. I shook my head wearily. 【So, you don’t want to marry either of us, is that right?】 【That’s right,】 he said without hesitation. 【You’re lucky to be marrying me.】 【Don’t expect anything more.】 【Behave yourself, and you’ll always be Mrs. Grant.】 【But if you don’t, don’t blame me for what happens next.】 Victoria was simmering with rage, but I held her back. I simply said, 【Alright, I understand.】 【I’ll have the wedding ready. Just don’t be late.】 The moment we were out of the room, Victoria grabbed my arm, her voice a furious whisper. 【Are you insane?】 【I came here to kill my own foolish hopes, not to watch you jump back in!】 【Wasn’t one lifetime of misery enough for you?!】 I closed the door gently behind us before I answered. 【Relax. I said our families could form an alliance.】 【I never said I would be the one getting married…】

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After Gavin cheated on me, all my “friends” tacitly protected him. Colleagues said Gavin needed “soul resonance” and told me to turn a blind eye. Elders said if not for Gavin, I’d be doing some disgraceful job, telling me not to bite the hand that feeds me. Over the years, all my friends were made through Gavin. My job was introduced by Gavin. I understood why no one stood by me, so I didn’t argue. I disappeared amidst their disdain for 5 years. Until we met again at the Class Reunion. Gavin attended with my former best friend, Wendy. Talented man, beautiful woman, a perfect match. I chuckled softly. Gavin, who thought I died of a broken heart jumping into the sea after our daughter’s accidental death, froze in place: “Sunny, you’re still alive?” Chapter 1 Hearing this, Wendy looked up at me sharply, shock written all over her face. After all, to them, I had been buried at the bottom of the sea five years ago. I smiled faintly and said: “I have a tough life. Just drank a bellyful of water.” Wendy’s reaction was as fast as ever. Her expression returned to normal quickly. She rocked the boy in her arms and said to him: “Leo, this is Auntie Sunny. You should call her Godmother.” We promised back then. If we get married, we catch each other’s bouquet. If we have kids, we be each other’s godmother. The boy timidly called out “Godmother.” I didn’t respond. I turned to the teacher, said I had something to do, and prepared to leave. The teacher had long sensed the turbulence between the three of us and wished to send me away early. But Gavin followed me tactlessly. “Sunny, where are you going? I’ll drive you.” Wendy frowned imperceptibly but said: “Yeah, you can’t drive. It’s inconvenient alone.” I laughed inwardly. After so many years, she still treated me like a useless idiot. But if someone insisted on being my driver, why not? On the way, Gavin kept asking about my recent life. I only answered a few main questions simply. I was saved back then and survived. I lived by selling paintings abroad these years. I came back because a buyer who frequently bought my paintings wanted to meet me. Hearing this, Gavin’s voice suddenly rose: “Male or female? Are you sure he’s reliable? Keep your eyes open.” I mocked mercilessly: “Friends known for years are unreliable. Husbands sleeping in the same bed are unreliable. How can I judge a stranger?” Gavin shut up immediately. Wendy’s face turned iron green. Arriving at my place, I took my things and got out. But suddenly turned back to the boy beside Wendy. The boy named Leo. Upper face like Gavin, lower face like Wendy. Just as I reached out a hand, Wendy hugged the child in terror. “What are you doing? Want my child to pay with his life? He is innocent!” Gavin also called my name warningly. I just picked a fruit pit out of his mouth. “I was afraid he would be like my child. Choking to death while adults were right there.” Their faces turned white. Silence. Back home, I received a message from Mr. Jarvis. He appreciated my work very much. Whenever I had a new piece these years, he would view it even if he didn’t buy it. I came back this time to meet him, and also to settle a matter of the heart. In a quiet cafe, I met Mr. Jarvis. He looked fifty or sixty, with a lean face. “Miss Sunny, I can see many stories in your paintings. I am very curious.” “Do I have the honor to know a thing or two?” After looking around, I nodded. Chapter 2 In high school, I was a carefree rich girl. When classmates were studying hard, I only knew painting and having fun. Gavin was my opposite. Unshakable number one in the grade. Excellent grades, slick social skills. At first, I despised him, thinking he was a poser. Then Wendy came. Her family was poor, but she studied hard. After school, she had to work to subsidize her family. I admired her very much. I asked my dad to set up a scholarship specifically for students like her. I didn’t want to make a noise. But the teacher pointed out the origin of the scholarship in class and asked her to bow and thank me. Thinking back now, Wendy must have held a grudge against me since then. But I foolishly poured my heart out to Wendy, treating her as my best friend. Wendy’s biggest wish was to be first in the grade. However, Gavin was like an insurmountable mountain. Wendy was always second. After failing to take the throne again, Wendy cried loudly. To comfort her, I tried everything: “How about I chase Gavin? Date him and affect his studies!” Gavin, passing by, sneered: “Sunny, you are so dumb. Do you know how to chase me? Want me to teach you?” Later, we really got together. In my senior year, I met the biggest change in my life: My dad went bankrupt and committed suicide. When I was most desperate, Gavin and Wendy stayed by my side. Gavin promised he would take my dad’s baton and be the person who loved me most in the world. Wendy let me live in her house and racked her brains to tutor me. I cheered up and started studying hard. Before the SATs, I was stable enough to get into a good college. But an accident happened. Although I checked repeatedly, I couldn’t find my No. 2 pencils. Leaving the exam hall, I cried and slapped myself, feeling no one was more useless than me. It was still Gavin and Wendy who encouraged me constantly, helping me walk out of the shadow. They both got into NYU, the best university. Convinced I wasn’t cut out for studying, I worked as a waitress near NYU. Gavin came to help as soon as class ended. Over time, customers thought he was the employee. Gavin often told me his plans for our future. He said as soon as he graduated, we would marry. He would work hard to support me, buy me the best brushes, and let me continue to be a carefree rich wife. But I still felt a crisis. I begged Wendy to help me watch Gavin. Wendy looked at me with deep eyes and revealed a stiff smile. I only thought she was jealous of my display of affection, so I urged her to date too. Wendy said: “No need. I have someone I like.” Long later, I understood that smile, and who she liked. It was too late. Chapter 3 After Gavin graduated, we married as promised. Life was not as easy as he imagined. He worked desperately to make money, coming home exhausted every day, falling asleep immediately. To lighten his burden, I learned to cook and clean. I never knew before that there were so many chores. Endless cooking, endless sweeping… Each seemed trivial, but piling up, they drowned me. When the financial pressure eased, our daughter was born. I named her Joy, hoping she would be quiet like Wendy. But she was energetic from childhood, crying and making noise. Every night, I had to walk her around the living room to get her to sleep. When I got into bed, Gavin’s hand touched me. “Wife, we haven’t…” Despite physical and mental exhaustion, I obediently let him do what he wanted. But at the critical moment, the daughter’s cry came. I pushed Gavin away abruptly, jumped out of bed naked to hold my daughter. I didn’t see Gavin’s disgusted face behind me. Life finally ground me from an innocent princess into a disappointing housewife. That birthday, Gavin bought me the most expensive brushes. But I looked at the house and said: “We’re out of diapers. You should have bought diapers.” At that time, Wendy was killing it in the business world. She and Gavin joined the same company. Original intention unchanged, she still liked to compete with Gavin. And still couldn’t beat Gavin. Once she prepared fully, polishing the plan repeatedly, but the leader still chose Gavin’s. Wendy called, crying loudly: “Why can’t I beat Gavin!” “After so many years, can’t I win just once?!” I glared at Gavin, preparing to go out to comfort Wendy. But Joy hugged my leg and wouldn’t let me go. I had to send Gavin: “It’s unsafe for a girl to drink alone in a bar.” “You caused the trouble, you go solve it.” Gavin paused, looking at me intently: “You really want me to go?” “Of course.” Gavin seemed to make a big decision and said “Okay.” Before leaving that day, he looked back at me several times. I felt no premonition, just holding my daughter, telling jokes to coax her. Disaster brewed from there. That day, Gavin didn’t return all night. When he came back the next day, I just got up to cook. He explained a few sentences, saying Wendy was terribly difficult when drunk. He finally got Wendy home and fell asleep on the floor from exhaustion. His tone was natural. Wendy was my best friend. So I believed him easily. In the following days, Gavin worked overtime and traveled more and more. At first, I just thought the company was particularly busy recently. But slowly, I found something wrong. Hair on clothes. Strange perfume smell. Finally, when I found an opened condom wrapper in his pocket, I was sure he cheated. Heartbroken, I ran to Gavin’s company and made a big scene. I cried, screamed, rolled on the floor, demanding he hand over that woman. Gavin looked disgusted. “Sunny, I feed you and clothe you, letting you be a housewife who worries about nothing. Your repayment is framing me with baseless things!” He took out his phone, opened the camera, and aimed at my face: “Look at yourself now! An unreasonable shrew!” Chapter 4 In the phone screen, I saw my messy hair and sallow face. On the outdated clothes, there were many oil stains that couldn’t be washed off. Behind me, a group of female employees with exquisite makeup and decent clothes exuded the aura of career women. They looked at me with pity and contempt. Wendy walked out from among them. “Sunny, stop making a scene. It’s too ugly.” Gavin said sternly: “Let her make a scene! She wants to make me lose my job and let the whole family starve! Fine, go ahead, start a livestream, let everyone know!” Only then did I realize I had no capital to fight Gavin. After marriage, I had been detached from society, staying at home. And I only had a high school diploma. Once divorced, I had no competitiveness in the job market. My daughter would also be snatched by Gavin. I suddenly woke up, climbed up from the ground, and said: “I won’t make a scene. I’m going home.” After that day, I humbled myself, afraid of making Gavin angry. He became more and more brazen, lipstick marks on his shirt. But I was only afraid he would abandon me. What I could do was try to use our daughter to awaken Gavin’s feelings for this family. Fortunately, Gavin did love our daughter. When not busy, he even took her to the company to play. One day, he took our daughter away again. I finished housework and started scrolling on my phone. Accidentally, I stumbled upon a post. Title: “The Hate-Love Saga of the Eternal Second and the First Place.” I clicked in and saw the first sentence: “No one knows, what the eternal second wants most isn’t first place, but the attention of the first place.” My heart skipped a beat, something flashed in my mind, quickly scrolling to the back. “After losing to him at work again, I went to a bar to get drunk. He came to comfort me.” “He asked what I needed him to do. I asked him to kiss me. So he kissed me.” “From high school to now, he rejected my confessions ten thousand times. But the ten thousand and first time, he accepted. I took him home, and we did it until darkness fell.” “The first place I couldn’t reach finally became a subject under my skirt.” I felt like I fell into an ice cellar. So the person Wendy liked was Gavin. So the person Gavin cheated with was Wendy! I lost my reason instantly, ran to Gavin’s company, and barged into his office. Uninhibited moans came immediately from the lounge. I kicked the door open and saw Wendy sitting on Gavin disheveled. Rage attacked my heart. I threw everything I could touch at them. A heavy crystal award hit Wendy’s head. She bled. I burst into tears too. If Gavin’s betrayal chilled my heart, Wendy’s betrayal made me despair. “We are best friends. Why did you do this to me?” Wendy wiped the blood from her forehead and said coldly: “I never considered you a friend.” “A pampered waste. What you are best at is giving charity from high above.” “I hate you. Hated you since the first meeting.” I tried hard to find evidence to deny. “If you hate me, why did you take me in and tutor me back then?” Wendy sneered. “Because I like to fatten the rabbit before killing it. Why do you think you still forgot your pencils after checking so many times? Because I stole them outside the exam hall!” “What?” I was thunderstruck. Wendy shook Gavin smilingly. “There’s a witness here. Gavin, you saw me take the pencils back then, right?” Gavin’s face stiffened, turning his head away. “Don’t be shy. You didn’t tell Sunny then, so I knew you must love me.” In an instant, I felt my blood flowing backward, limbs weak, almost falling directly. “I’m going to re… report you…” Gavin’s face was gloomy, scolding: “Sunny! Enough!” “Think about our daughter!” After speaking, his face changed, looking around. Right, where is Joy? She should be here. Finally, we found our daughter’s body under the table by checking surveillance. Turns out Gavin and Wendy were messing around in the room, leaving Joy alone outside eating dried fruit. Joy choked on a pit, banged on the door for help, but was covered by their voices. She wanted to get the water on the table, but she was too small and couldn’t reach. She died silently, separated from her father by a door.

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The day I got into a car accident, my best friend Sienna insisted I use it to test my boyfriend. “Just say you have amnesia. See how he reacts.” Unable to argue with her, I nodded. When Julian Vance rushed into the hospital room, looking anxious, I pretended not to know him. “Who are you?” The next second, Sienna linked her arm with his. “Silly, this is my boyfriend. Don’t you recognize him?” Her hand trembled slightly, staring at Julian with eyes full of expectation. Julian froze for a moment, then held her hand. He whispered: “Yes, I am Sienna’s boyfriend.” I looked at them for a while. Suddenly laughed out loud: “Should I congratulate you then?” Hearing this, Julian’s face sank instead. Chapter 1 I didn’t understand. What was he unhappy about? And I didn’t care to think. Staring at their intertwined arms, my mind went blank. One was my best friend of fifteen years. Hearing I was hit by a car, she ran so hard she broke her heel. The other was my boyfriend of seven years, whom I was about to marry. A 2000-mile distance, a 3-hour flight, he arrived in 3 hours. Were they pranking me together? But today isn’t April Fools’. Just as this thought popped up, Sienna stood on her toes and kissed the corner of Julian’s lips lightly. “Julian, I told you Hazel would bless us.” “You were worried for nothing, refusing to tell her.” She turned to me, smiling brightly. “Hazel, you will, right?” I felt like an invisible hand was choking my throat. I couldn’t speak. No cameras in the corner. No one recording my clown-like frozen face. This wasn’t a prank show. I couldn’t help looking at Julian. He turned his head slightly, avoiding my gaze. Eyelashes fluttering rapidly, locking away the truth I wanted to know. Just last night, he looked at me with those same eyes on video call, as if I was the only one in his world. “Hazel, I’ll fly back tomorrow night and take you home.” “This time, no matter how my parents object, I will marry you.” He came back early. But the promise seemed void. I pinched my palm hard, forcing a smile. “When did you… get together?” Throat dry, I whispered: “How… how did I not know?” Sienna smiled sweetly. Just as she was about to speak, I interrupted softly: “Don’t let her do all the talking. I want to hear what your boyfriend says.” I stared at Julian, nails digging a bloody mark into my palm. Dull pain. He pursed his lips unconsciously: “Start of the year.” The tone was the gentleness engraved in my bones. That hand I could recognize with my eyes closed was holding someone else. “We met on a blind date, felt a connection, so we got together.” I froze. The Vance family is a famous academic dynasty. Both parents are professors at Ivy League schools. Me? My father is in prison, mother remarried years ago. At the beginning of the year, Julian’s mother threatened suicide to force him to go on blind dates. I had insomnia all night and proposed breaking up. Wishing him happiness. Julian stood downstairs in the rain all day. He hugged me, trembling all over. “Hazel, I only want you. Let’s not break up, please?” I touched his face, unable to distinguish between tears and rain. So, it was all fake? “Hazel.” Sienna interrupted my thoughts. “Actually, Julian and I are a better match, aren’t we?” Right. Sienna’s parents are also professors. A perfect match for the Vances. She smiled. “It doesn’t matter if you forgot the past due to amnesia. Now, it’s your turn to bless me.” My heart suffocated. I remembered the summer after high school graduation. I excitedly ran to tell Sienna that Julian and I were dating. She widened her eyes, dropping her water glass. Crash. Glass shattered everywhere. “How? Julian rejected even the Prom Queen. How could he…” I was too anxious pulling her away from the shards. Forgot to think deeply about the complex emotions in her eyes. Time changes things. We swapped roles. I drank some water, swallowing the bitterness in my throat. As if swallowing those sharp shards from years ago. Just as I was about to speak, the doctor pushed the door open. Chapter 2 “The patient’s leg bone is severely displaced and needs surgery. Who is the next of kin?” “Me.” Julian’s instinctive answer froze the room. Sienna gritted her teeth: “Julian, did you hear wrong?” She squeezed out a smile: “The doctor asked for family. You aren’t.” “Need a signature? Give it to me.” She glanced at me: “Her father is in jail, mother ran away long ago.” “I should be her oldest friend. I’ll sign.” Actually, not just the oldest, but the best. Since I chased away the bullies blocking her with a broom, we were inseparable. Fifteen years. We shared homework answers, cried and laughed over the same movies. Shared door codes, clothes in the closet, and family matters I never told anyone else. I had no defenses against her. Didn’t expect to share the same man today. I found it ridiculously funny and reached out to the doctor: “No need. I can sign myself.” The consent form passed Sienna’s hand. Her face didn’t look good. “Doctor.” Julian suddenly spoke. “Is her amnesia curable?” My hand holding the pen stiffened. “The patient has a concussion…” Before the doctor could finish a sentence. Sienna cried out in pain: “Ouch—” Julian’s attention was instantly hooked. “What’s wrong?” He bent down to look at Sienna’s broken heel, frowning. “Slippery in the rain. Don’t wear heels next time.” The concern was so familiar. He picked Sienna up and placed her on a nearby chair. Squatting down, he gently took off her shoe, wiping the mud spots off her foot with a wet wipe. I scribbled my signature, pretending my soaked clothes from falling didn’t exist. Only the leg pain was impossible to ignore. Sienna shook the man’s arm coquettishly. “Go buy me a pair of shoes, okay?” “Mn.” Julian stood up, glanced at me lightly, and turned to leave. The doctor closed the door. The air was so quiet only the rain outside could be heard. “Hazel.” Sienna spoke, tearing the last shred of peace. “Don’t blame me.” “Julian deserves better. I have the right to fight for what I want.” I didn’t speak. The rain was too quiet. Couldn’t cover the pain of the wound. Sienna wasn’t done. She counted one by one. “The bag you wanted him to bring from Paris isn’t out of stock. It’s in my closet.” “His phone password and wallpaper changed from your photo not to look professional, but because I asked.” “Last month on your grandma’s death anniversary, Julian wasn’t on a business trip. He was with me at a concert.” “And the house the Vances are looking at. It’s not for you.” Every sentence was a nail hammered into my heart. She didn’t let me go. She touched her belly gently. “I’m pregnant.” “Julian wanted to find a good time to tell you. I think today is perfect.” I was nailed to the spot. During the breakup scare at the beginning of the year, I lost a child. Just because Julian said one sentence. “Hazel, it’s not the right time.” Rain tick-tocked. My tears surged. I blurted out: “Shut up! Get out!” I raised my hand, pressing my leg hard. Too painful. Chapter 3 The moment the anesthesia kicked in, I felt cold all over. Blacking out, I remembered the day I found out I was pregnant. I spent 3 hours cooking a feast, hiding the test result in a gift box. The celebration cake candles flickered. Julian was silent for a long time. He rubbed the back of my hand, saying deeply: “Hazel, I hope our child can be born in a blessed environment.” And in my phone, there was still the message from his mother yesterday, calling me shameless. In his family’s eyes, I was mud by the roadside. Should stay far away from him. Tears fell instantly. I asked tremblingly: “Julian Vance, when you confessed at 18, promising to give me a very, very good home, does it not count anymore?” He lowered his head, refusing to look at me, only saying: “Hazel, I have difficulties too.” Later, I went onto the operating table alone. It seemed to be raining then too. I just felt heavy all over. A wetness that wouldn’t go away. When I woke up, the ward was quiet. Replying to work messages, I saw Sienna’s Instagram post. A small box in flowers, containing a ring with a Pigeon Blood Ruby. The style I mentioned wanting to Julian when we were young and naive. I liked the post. 5 minutes later, Julian sent a message. [Hazel, is the surgery done? What did the doctor say?] [About your amnesia, is recovery possible?] I replied: [You are Sienna’s boyfriend. My business is none of your concern.] Before he replied, I blocked both of them. Raised by Grandma, when I met them, I thought fate pitied me and gave me gifts. It was a dream. Now I should wake up. The nurse asked me: “Miss, where is your family?” “Don’t hide the surgery from them. If you were my daughter, I’d be heartbroken knowing this.” I smiled: “I have no family.” “Not a single one left.” I closed my eyes, hiding the heat in them. A week later, I was discharged. Back to the so-called “home,” I started packing. Struggling to stuff clothes into the suitcase, the door opened from outside. Laughter came in. Sienna and the Vance parents. Seeing me, Mrs. Vance raised her thin eyebrows. “Why are you here?” “Our Julian is getting married. How do you have the face to come?” I paused. Before, I didn’t want Julian to be caught in the middle, so I endured. Now, there was no need. I turned cold: “I paid for this house. Why can’t I come?” “Calculating carefully, you are the ones with no right.” In the last year of college, Julian wanted to start his game company. His parents disagreed, cut off his living expenses, forcing him to study abroad for academia. I used the money I earned from modeling to support him and his startup team. Even this house, I paid a part. Now that Julian’s startup succeeded and is about to IPO, I became the unpresentable little model in the Vance family’s mouth. “So uneducated.” Mr. Vance pointed at me. “How dare you speak to us like that? Apologize immediately!” I was about to retort. But I glimpsed a familiar figure in the elevator hall. The moment I recognized who it was, a chill rushed up my spine. Chapter 4 It was Jack. My biological father. He got addicted to gambling shortly after marrying my mother. After losing everything, he started stealing and robbing. When I was 5, he was sentenced for home invasion. Since then, the whole family fell apart. Thinking of him, I only remember the gossip and ridicule behind my back. And the “guilty” label stuck on me forever. Unlike the refined Vances, he wore an ill-fitting jacket with a loose collar. Not to mention his chicken-nest hair and stubble. When did he get out? And why did he find this place? Before I could think more. Sienna walked behind me in a few steps, turning my wheelchair. She whispered in my ear: “Hazel, look closely.” “With a father like this, you should let Julian go.” She couldn’t hide the trace of jealousy in her eyes. I saw it. It happened before. Chatting in bed at night, she touched my hair, sighing. “Hazel, you’re actually lucky.” “Lower degree than me, but earning several times more.” “You have such a good and excellent boyfriend…” I laughed at her silliness: “But your parents wait for you to come home every day. I don’t have that.” Now, she pushed me towards the door. Loudly: “Uncle Jack, Hazel is here.” I gripped the wheelchair handles tightly, teeth chattering from cold. Muttering: “You called him. It was you.” The person who knew my deepest pain used the privilege I gave her to stab me hard. Sienna chuckled: “So you know shame too.” Jack turned around, black eyes lighting up. He rushed over: “Girl! Finally found you.” “Heard you earn a lot now. Give me some, just 20,000. Dad can turn the tables immediately!” Speaking, he revealed two rows of uneven yellow teeth. Mr. Vance stepped back, frowning. Mrs. Vance fanned the air, pinching her nose: “So smelly.” An invisible slap on my face. Seeing I didn’t speak, Jack reached for my pocket directly. “Where’s the money? Give me money, quick…” The madness in his eyes almost swallowed me. Just then, the elevator opened. Julian saw this and rushed out. I looked up at him. Relying on him was a habit I hadn’t quit yet. “Who are you? Stay away!” He pushed Jack. Roaring: “I’m calling security! Get out!” Jack was pushed down. He stood up angrily: “Little bastard!” His chest heaved violently, kicking out directly. “Julian!” Sienna screamed, he immediately blocked in front of her. Off guard, Jack kicked my wheelchair. I couldn’t hold on, tipping over heavily. The world tilted violently. I saw security running over, saw Jack fleeing in panic. Julian seemed to just see me, walking over to help me up. Mrs. Vance grabbed him: “Julian, look clearly!” “This woman isn’t one of us. Her family is this shameful!” Julian froze. He looked at me, didn’t move a step. Disgust he didn’t even bother to hide. I suddenly laughed out loud. “You think you are decent?” Propping up with my arms, I sat up slowly. The wound hurt too much. Tears fell uncontrollably. I wiped them gently. “A cheater, a homewrecker, and a pair of mean parents.” My voice was icy: “You have no right to judge me.” As soon as the words fell, Julian swayed in disbelief. His voice spiked: “You didn’t lose your memory?!”

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When the gentle, jilted CEO in a romance novel was about to jump from a skyscraper, I stopped him, my hand on my pregnant belly. “Mr. Eckert, before you die, could you do me a favor and sign the consent form for my abortion? I’m carrying your child!” He stared at me, his mind finally recalling a night months ago, when he’d been drugged and spent a wild night with a stranger. That stranger was me. 1. The moment I realized I was just a background character in a CEO romance novel was the exact moment the story’s tragic hero, Owen Eckert, was standing on the rooftop of his sixty-six-story building, ready to jump. He was heartbroken, publicly humiliated at his own engagement party when the female lead left him for another man. None of this should have been my problem. As an insignificant character, my only role in this entire saga was a single, fleeting night with him months ago. But just a few minutes ago, I’d discovered I was pregnant. The test showed two solid lines. Carrying a billionaire’s baby… if I did nothing, I’d be wasting the opportunity of a lifetime. A chance to completely change my fate. He wanted to die, but I wanted to secure my future through this child. So, for now, death would have to wait. Just as he lifted one foot over the ledge, I burst onto the rooftop and shouted, “Wait a minute!” Owen turned, his brow furrowed in confusion. “If this is about your salary, don’t worry. The company will continue to pay all its employees after I’m gone.” He closed his eyes, ready to take the final leap and end his unloved existence. I glanced down at my hotel staff uniform and realized he’d misunderstood. This hotel was one of his assets; he probably thought I was worried about my next paycheck. With seconds to spare, I yelled again, “Mr. Eckert, don’t jump! What I meant was, before you die, could you sign my abortion papers? I’m pregnant with your child! But I’m an orphan, and the hospital won’t let me sign the consent form myself.” To sell the performance, I put on my most pitiful, helpless expression. I’d heard he was a man with an overwhelming sense of responsibility. I couldn’t believe he’d still jump after hearing he had a child on the way. I was betting everything on his conscience, betting that for the sake of this child, he would put his suicide on hold. A few seconds later, he turned back, his eyes wide with disbelief, trying to determine if I was telling the truth. He had a child? When did this happen? How did he not know? He studied my face, and a slow blush crept up his neck, turning him the color of a cooked lobster. He remembered. He remembered the madness of that night. That bastard Marcus Thorne, trying to steal his fiancée, Olivia, had drugged his drink. And I, a hotel maid cleaning his suite, had become the antidote. He’d spent the entire night making the irreversible happen. When he woke up, I was gone, leaving only a single crimson stain on the sheets. It was his first time. And mine. If I was truly pregnant, there was a very real chance the child was his. He had a duty to sign that form. With a sigh, he realized this baby had come at the worst possible time. Just when he was ready to end it all. But suicide would have to wait. The fate of the tiny infant inside me was more important than his own death. After all, his death was his business alone, but my child was tied to my future. He had already hurt me once; he couldn’t bear to watch me face this alone. He stepped back from the ledge. “When is the procedure, and at which hospital? I’ll sign the papers for you.” The rumors were true. He really was a responsible man. My gamble had paid off. 2. For the next two days, Owen meticulously arranged everything for my procedure. From choosing the best hospital and the most skilled doctor to planning my post-procedure recovery care, he handled every detail. He was so worried I wouldn’t have enough money to recover properly after he was gone that he gave me a debit card with a hundred thousand dollars on it, calling it compensation. On the day of the surgery, he personally supervised me for the twelve hours prior, making sure I didn’t eat anything. He held my hand, told me not to be afraid, and assured me it was a minor procedure. He promised to wait outside until it was over. Then, he would go and die. After signing the consent form, he gave me a small wave, as if sending me off to a battlefield. “Go on. If there are no surprises, we won’t see each other again.” But my appearance was the biggest surprise of all. Five minutes later, the operating room door opened again. I walked timidly to his side and said apologetically, “The doctor said I’m in my second trimester. The procedure would be very damaging, and I might not be able to have children again. “I’ve changed my mind. Can I… can I keep the baby? “I’m an orphan, I have no one. This child could be the only family I’ll ever have. I’ll raise him well, I promise!” I gently cradled my slightly showing belly, my eyes red-rimmed, looking up at him like a lost puppy about to be abandoned. My timing was perfect. Owen hesitated. Keep it? A child of his own blood. If the mother truly wanted it, then why not? He saw it as my decision, and he respected my choice. Once again, the ever-agreeable Owen Eckert gave in. His gaze softened as it fell on my stomach. He nodded. “Okay.” Success! Now, all I had to do was dance on the edge of his patience. I had discovered he was a complete pushover, nothing like the ruthless tycoon described in the media. When it came to this child, I could see the softness in his heart. He respected my choices and was willing to bend for them. Now, watch me use this baby as my ultimate trump card. 3. After I canceled the procedure, Owen, eager to get back to his plan of dying, started making arrangements for me again. This time, it took him ten days. In those ten days, he bought a condo for me and the baby near the city’s best schools, a place for us to live. He also gave me another card, this one with five million dollars, enough to raise the child to adulthood. He dismissed the nurse he had hired for my post-abortion recovery and instead booked and paid for a full-service stay at a luxury postpartum wellness center. When I mentioned I had terrible taste and was worried his child would be dressed in ugly clothes, he waved his hand and had an entire room filled with baby clothes, from newborn to three years old, for both boys and girls. A crib, a stroller, and a complete set of baby supplies all appeared. If they didn’t expire, he probably would have stockpiled formula and diapers too. After all this was done, he stood on that same rooftop one evening, his will to live completely gone. Last time he had watched the sunset. Tonight, he watched the city lights flicker to life below. When I arrived, he was sitting calmly on the outer edge of the parapet, his legs dangling over the abyss, swinging gently. He could fall at any moment. My heart pounded in my chest, but I didn’t tell him not to die. You can’t reason with someone who truly wants to die. You can only delay. How long I could delay was up to him. I gently tapped his shoulder. “Sorry to bother you again.” He wasn’t annoyed, just furrowed his brow out of habit, ready to solve whatever new problem I’d brought him. “What is it now?” I fidgeted. “I heard the maids talking. They said you have a lot of money, and if you die, your relatives will inherit everything. The same relatives who treated you horribly and schemed against you. “I was thinking, instead of leaving it to them, why not leave it to our child? “He’s your only bloodline in this world, and he’s never done anything to hurt you. And I have no grudge against you either. “You should keep it in the family. Instead of letting them benefit, why not let your own child have it?” I pointed to my belly, and at that exact moment, a small lump protruded. The baby was moving. He’s kicking! I figured if the baby could understand, he would agree with me. If Owen agreed, both of us could skip a century of hard work. The baby would be born into the highest echelon of society. Owen’s wealth was an accumulation of three generations; to say his family was rich was an understatement. This time, Owen was silent for much longer. But eventually, he turned his head and gave a slight nod. “Alright.” He was determined to die. After Olivia had abandoned him, he had lost all hope in the world. But I hadn’t. Neither had the baby in my womb. We wanted to live, and live well. He felt I had a point. It was better to leave his fortune to his own flesh and blood than to his spiteful relatives. He didn’t need the money, but his child could. He decided to give in to me one more time. As he climbed back over the railing, I reached out to steady him. “Careful!” I was terrified he might slip, and my baby’s inheritance would vanish into thin air. Of course, there was also the fact that he was a good, responsible man. I didn’t want him to die. I wanted him to live. Once he was safely on the rooftop, he took off his overcoat and draped it over my shoulders. “It’s windy up here. You’re pregnant, you can’t afford to catch a cold.” I nodded, pulling the coat tighter around me without hesitation. It carried a faint, pleasant scent, like a fresh, sweet body wash, reminiscent of morning dew on jasmine flowers. 4. After having his assistant liquidate all his assets, Owen brought in a lawyer and signed the papers in front of me. From now on, no matter what happened to him, everything he owned would go to the child in my womb. If the child didn’t survive, it would all go to me. Until the child came of age, I was the sole custodian of his entire fortune. In an instant, I went from being an ordinary woman to a top-tier billionaire. I moved into his mansion, drove his luxury cars, had a chauffeur at my beck and call, and a team of maids to cook and care for me. I wore designer clothes and ate gourmet food. Though I wasn’t his wife, the Eckert family staff treated me like royalty. Their future income now depended entirely on me. The saying “a mother’s status rises with her son” was playing out perfectly in my life. When his relatives found out, they were furious. They stormed my home and his office, causing all sorts of trouble. To shut them up, Owen spent the next ten days dealing with them. In those ten days, I witnessed the thunderous power of a man at the top. First, he leaked scandalous information he had collected, driving a wedge between his aunt and uncle. They were so busy fighting and heading for divorce that they had no time to bother us. Next, he handed over evidence of his cousin embezzling company funds directly to the police. His cousin was arrested and would likely spend several years in prison. Then there were his two troublesome maternal uncles. Worried they would harass me, Owen cut off their cash flow and, citing incompetence, transferred them to a remote overseas branch of the company. It was practically exile. After all that, he took a shower, changed into his favorite black suit, put on the watch Olivia had given him, and once again, headed for the rooftop. As he passed me, he even smiled and said, “Good evening. The baby needs nourishment, so remember to eat more every day. You’re too thin.” He thought that this time, I would finally be satisfied and wouldn’t bother him anymore. I had everything I could possibly want. He could finally die in peace. But he had underestimated my ambition.

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The day Julian Vance was arrested for killing a man for me, I ignored his pleas, aborted our child, and broke up with him. His eyes were bloodshot as he screamed at my back: “Scarlett, you killed my child! I will kill you!” After making bail, he dove headfirst into the underworld. In nine years, he clawed his way up to become the ruthless Mr. Vance. When he returned to power, the first thing he did was find me. He choked me, broke my father’s legs, and forced himself on me right in front of him. Everyone knew he hated me. Hated me enough to use my parents’ lives as leverage to chain me to his side. But when no one was looking, he kissed away my tears. “Scarlett, I hate you. I hate you to death!” Yet the next moment, he possessed me fiercely: “Scarlett, remember the pain I give you. Never forget it!” After the passion, he threw a skimpy dress at me. “Wear this to the Gala tonight. You’re going in Vivian’s place.” “She’s different from you. She has a future. You’ve been used before, once more won’t hurt. Don’t forget, your parents’ lives are in my hands.” I smiled miserably. “Julian, my parents are dead.” “Dead?” Julian froze for a second, lust still lingering on his face. “Those two old things willing to die? Scarlett, lying just to skip a party? How cheap.” I looked up, tears blurring my vision, voice trembling: “I’m not lying. They really are dead.” Chapter 1 They died before Julian arrived. Died in the wind. “Scarlett, we dragged you down. We’re sorry.” “Leave Julian. Start over.” “Live happily.” Leaving these words, they jumped right in the video call. I screamed and cried, but couldn’t break the golden chain on my ankle, couldn’t escape the cage named Julian Vance. Julian pinched my chin, leaning down to kiss away my tears, his tone grim: “Scarlett, what right do you have to cry?” “You killed my child. You’ve been used by so many men. What right do you have to feel wronged?” “Just replacing Vivian for one party. Stop pretending to be noble!” One party? He spoke of that absurd, debauched feast so lightly. Looking at Julian’s face, I felt numb. A tear fell on the back of his hand. Julian withdrew his hand instantly, wiping it violently on his clothes. “Dirty.” It reminded me of the day he killed for me. He reached out his blood-stained right hand, catching my tear before it hit the ground. The next second, he was pinned down by the police. Lying in the mud, he smiled brilliantly and said, “Scarlett, don’t cry.” “It hurts.” “Julian, my parents are dead,” I repeated. Slap! The slap landed on my face. Julian’s face loomed close. Patience gone. “Scarlett, don’t push your luck! Replacing Vivian is your blessing!” Blessing? At this moment, I couldn’t tell if Julian was humiliating me or if he really loved that escort. He brought Vivian home more than once. Slept with her in front of me more than once. And every time after, he made me clean her up. As if only this way could he get pleasure. In a trance, Julian’s face approached again, overlapping with memory. Smiling brilliantly, “Don’t want to go? Fine.” “Unless you tell me why you left me back then!” My body lost all strength. I threw off his hand and smiled mockingly: “I’ll go.” Julian exploded instantly, grabbing my hair and roaring. “You’re this cheap just to keep a secret? Willing to be used by those men?” I was thrown to the floor. The chain on my ankle clanged harshly. Julian’s face magnified again, overlapping with the boy in my memory. Unconsciously, tears fell again. I nodded heavily, screaming: “Julian, my parents are dead! They are dead!” “There is no truth! What truth do you want!” Slap! Julian slapped me again, eyes splitting with rage: “Since you’re so eager to be used, I’ll grant your wish!” “Someone! Clean this slut up and send her over!” After speaking, pain flooded his eyes, voice hoarse: “Scarlett, you owe me this.” Yes, I owed him. Maybe everything was a mistake from the beginning. Chapter 2 At eighteen, I ran away with Julian, breaking the marriage contract my family arranged. Since then, I was disowned, and my family’s business plummeted. The first night in the basement apartment, Julian cried under the shower. When I found him, he grabbed my hand, wanting to crush it into his bones. He swore with red eyes, “Scarlett, I will give you a good life. I will make you a proper lady again.” Julian took oaths seriously back then. And he did it. Without a degree, he took odd jobs, the dirtiest and hardest work. Tired, but hearts warm. Every night, Julian pointed at the skyscrapers in magazines, painting the future. “Scarlett, I’ll give you the biggest house. You won’t have to do anything, just be Mrs. Vance.” Now, it all came true. Julian used the biggest house in the city to build a cage for me. Even the chain holding me was gold. I wiped my tears and smiled miserably. “Yes, I owe you.” “Two years. Have I paid it off?” Julian froze. Disgust appeared. Just as he was about to speak, a voice interrupted. “Making Scarlett cry again?” Vivian walked over, skillfully linking arms with Julian. The diamond on her ring finger was blinding. My breath hitched. “Doesn’t Scarlett know?” “Julian, you really are something. Not telling Scarlett such big news.” “Slipped my mind.” Julian smiled gently. Vivian stepped forward, pulling out an invitation. “Julian and I are getting married.” Julian… getting married? To this escort? I looked at Julian, seeing a smile on his lips. Deep affection, just like before. But looking at me, it was cold disgust. “Vivian may have been an escort, but she is cleaner than anyone.” Heart ripped apart. Tears fell with a smile. Seeing my tears, hesitation flashed in Julian’s eyes. Next moment, he avoided my gaze. “Scarlett, your tears make me sick!” Julian dropped a sentence and sat on the sofa with Vivian. I was chained to the floor, like a stray dog. “Julian, since we’re getting married, Scarlett…” Julian raised an eyebrow. Vivian stopped instantly. “Tonight, let her go to the Gala for you.” “Is that appropriate? Scarlett is still…” Julian squeezed her hand, tone grim: “I said she goes, so she goes!” “You are my woman. Insulting you is insulting me, Julian Vance.” He kissed her. Vivian submitted skillfully, letting Julian’s hand explore. Sounds of wetness and Vivian’s gasps spread. I knelt aside, numbly watching the debauchery. Heart aching beyond words. Scarlett, it’s been two years. You should be used to it. Should have been used to it. Just like back then. … Chapter 3 The first Lunar New Year after running away with Julian, I got pregnant. Julian held me, laughing like a fool on the street. Back home, he lay on my belly, voice trembling. “Scarlett, we have a baby.” That night, he smoked downstairs all night. Next morning he rushed up. “Scarlett, let’s buy a house.” I laughed at his daydreaming, and the pitiful number in our bank account. But Julian pulled out crumpled bills. For the next month, he brought back more money than usual every day. Wouldn’t say how. He told me the money was clean, spend it freely, don’t mistreat myself. Until half a month later, I saw him in a local video. I ignored my three-month pregnancy and ran to the location. The biggest nightclub in the city. In the biggest VIP room, I saw Julian kneeling on the ground, barking like a dog. I pushed away the guest riding him like a madwoman, but was grabbed by the wrist. Later, Julian drank until his stomach bled before they let me go. In the ambulance, he still clutched the money, wiping my tears. “Don’t cry. It hurts.” The day after Julian’s stomach bleeding, a girl in a white dress brought a stack of cash with red eyes. “Brother Vance, I heard everything. Take this money. Take care of yourself and… sister-in-law.” She was Vivian. Neither Julian nor I took the money. Since then, every time Julian went to the club, I made him bring extra food. For Vivian. Julian was right. Though she was an escort, she was cleaner than anyone. Daytime, I drew designs for money. Nighttime, Julian went to the club. Finally, at five months pregnant, we saved enough for a down payment. Julian dragged me excitedly to pay the deposit. Vivian often came to help us pack. However, before moving, everything changed. That fifty-year-old landlord raped me while Julian was away. When Julian came back, he saw the landlord on top of me, panting. Instant rage. Later, my vision turned red. “Julian, run!” I cried hysterically. But Julian put down the knife, wiping my tears in the bloodbath. “Scarlett, don’t cry. It hurts.” Then, he was pinned into the mud by police. … When Julian changed position again, I interrupted him, handing him a condom. Julian scoffed, knocking me over. He leaned down and kissed Vivian’s brow, pious. “Vivian, give me a child.” Vivian didn’t answer, but her high-pitched gasps were the best proof. With a groan from Julian, everything stopped. I touched my empty belly, heart shrinking into a ball. Forcing back tears, I crawled over, handing tissues to clean up Julian’s mess. “Enough!” Julian suddenly raged, grabbing the chain, pinning me to the floor. “Don’t you have emotions?” “Don’t you have dignity?” “Scarlett, why are you so cheap!” I smiled miserably. My dignity, along with Julian’s child, was buried in that snowy night amidst gang rape. After Julian was taken away, I kowtowed until my head bled at the sales office to get the deposit back. In those few days, I begged everyone. Finally, the landlord’s son reluctantly agreed to settle. The condition: I accompany them for three days for free. “My dad was stabbed to death by your man. You think you can settle without giving something?” “Miss Scarlett, you don’t want your man in prison, right?” Amidst smoke and alcohol, the men laughed lewdly. Piercing and fatal. Three days of nightmare and hell. They used every method until the last day, when I hemorrhaged massively. They stopped. Afraid to go to the hospital, they dumped me on the roadside. Blood between my legs dyed the road, dyed the snow. I lay on the road, in the heavy snow, contractions coming one after another. That day, watching the sky full of snow, I bit the umbilical cord, holding the dead baby and wailing. “Julian, our baby is gone!” “Gone!!!” … Chapter 4 “Julian, it hurts so much.” Julian’s face changed instantly, eyes red, voice trembling: “Scarlett, I’m here.” The past is gone, only memories remain. “Sister Scarlett, what did you say?” Vivian spoke. The pain in Julian’s eyes vanished instantly. He kicked me away, as if touching something filthy. “You deserve to hurt?” “Why didn’t you say it hurt when you aborted the child and left me?” “Scarlett, you asked for this!” “Wash yourself clean tonight. Or I’ll make those two old things wish they were dead!” With that, he strode towards the exit. “Julian.” Julian stopped. “They are dead.” “My parents jumped off a building and died.” “Dead? Good. Scarlett, you go die too.” Julian strode away. He walked coldly. But I was chained to the spot. Yes. What chained me wasn’t just metal. “Scarlett, if I were you, living like this, I’d rather die.” Vivian stood up, walking to me barefoot. The diamond ring on her finger sparkled. “Familiar? You picked it.” Vivian looked down, disdainful and arrogant. I noticed the ring. Back then, Julian found out I was pregnant. The next day he brought back a diamond ring, crying and proposing. I looked at our balance, nagged Julian for a long time to return it. Later, when I was imprisoned by Julian, he bought that ring back. Every time in bed, he made me hold it in my mouth. Now, it was his and Vivian’s wedding ring. “Julian was right. You really are a good dog.” Slap! A slap blacked out my vision. “Scarlett, I’m talking to you!” I forced a smile. “Isn’t this what you always wanted to see?” “Not enough!” “Why does Julian only see you? He’s marrying me! Scarlett, why do you get all of Julian’s love! Why!” “Scarlett, die! Just die! If you die, Julian won’t hurt anymore!” Vivian’s words were like thunder. Numbing my ears. Julian loves me? He… did love me before. Maybe. When I came back to my senses, Vivian was gone. Under the moonlight, a phone, a key. Picking up the key, the phone unlocked automatically. “After all, a city girl. Pregnant but so soft!” “Hahaha, lucky day for the brothers! Everyone in!” Familiar voices echoed through the villa. The woman on screen was posed in shameful positions. Forced to endure humiliation. Surrounded by men’s lewd laughter. This was the video from back then! Back then, they forced me to take photos and videos. Using them as leverage to agree to the settlement. And I used them as reason to leave Julian after bailing him out. Even now, I remember his scream. Heartbreaking. Eleven years. Even the world forgot. Where did this video come from! My fingers trembled, almost dropping the phone. When the video ended and returned to the menu… my blood ran cold! This was my father’s chat screen! Sender: Julian Vance. I wailed in the villa, watching the video again and again masochistically. Finally, I fled the villa, heading for the nearby rooftop. The wind on the roof was strong, like that snowy night. I stood in the wind, unable to shed another tear. Familiar voices rang in my ears. “You unfilial daughter. If you go with him, don’t ever come back.” “Scarlett be good. Daddy doesn’t hurt.” “My Scarlett suffered. We dragged you down.” Wind filled my ears. I slowly opened my arms, smiling. A brave leap. “Scarlett!!” Julian’s roar pierced the wind. Before falling, I seemed to see that familiar figure running towards me. That was nineteen-year-old Julian. But, it didn’t matter anymore. It’s all over.

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When I was four, my sister and I fell into the river. Only I survived. From that day on, Mom hated me. At night, she would try to force colorful “candies” into my mouth, but Dad always stopped her in time. Later, I grew my hair long and wore floral dresses, trying to live as my sister’s shadow. Only then would Mom look at me. Three years later, Mom got pregnant again. She said my dead sister, Chloe, was coming back. I was happy for her. Chloe is coming back. That’s good… That means this family doesn’t need me, the replacement, anymore. I found the “candy” Mom tried to feed me years ago and swallowed it quietly. Chapter 1 The bitterness of the “candy” spread in my mouth. I bent over, dry heaving, acid mixing with saliva. This was the rat poison Mom hid in the back of the closet three years ago. Back then, she would sit by my bed late at night, eyes empty, whispering: “Why aren’t you dead yet?” Now, I was fulfilling her wish. I was wearing a girl’s floral dress. The hem was frayed. It was Chloe’s old dress, too small for me now. But Mom said… I had to wear it to look like Chloe. Laughter came from the living room. It was a gentle sound I hadn’t heard in years. She was touching her belly, talking to Dad: “The doctor said it’s definitely a girl. Look how stable the pregnancy is.” Her voice was sickeningly sweet. “Finally… I don’t have to look at that debt collector’s face anymore.” I wanted to see Mom’s smile one last time. As soon as I reached the door, Dad saw me. He frowned. “Noah, why aren’t you doing your homework?” His gaze swept over my floral dress and quickly looked away, as if seeing something painful. Mom turned and saw me. Her smile froze instantly. “Who let you out? Your hair is short again. Didn’t I tell you to keep it long like Chloe’s?” She walked over quickly and poked my forehead hard. “Always causing trouble. When Chloe is born, if you dare bully her, I’ll break your legs.” I shrank back. The red mark on my forehead stung. The “candy” in my stomach began to dissolve. Waves of pain hit my abdomen, making me bend over. Dad wanted to help me, but Mom stopped him. “Don’t touch him. He’s probably faking it for sympathy.” I bit my lip and said nothing, slowly shuffling back to my room. Every step felt like knives twisting in my gut. My limbs went numb, and my hand shaking as I held the doorframe. I lay on the bed, my body twitching uncontrollably. The door opened. Dad came in with a glass of warm water. He put the glass on my nightstand and hesitated before saying, “Noah, your mom is pregnant and emotional. Don’t take it to heart.” I shook my head, but could only let out a weak groan. Dad’s figure started to blur. Dad sighed. He tucked me in. “Sleep well. You’ll feel better tomorrow.” He closed the door when he left. The room went silent. I pulled out the doll from under my pillow. It was Chloe’s favorite. The fabric was worn shiny. I cleaned it every day. Mom said it was Chloe’s, so I had to protect it. Last time a classmate took it, I fought and got beaten up to get it back. Gradually, my vision blurred. I hugged the doll tight and closed my eyes. Mom, Chloe is coming back. You don’t have to suffer looking at me, the replacement, anymore. This is good. Chapter 2 Slowly, the pain faded. Like a dandelion seed caught in the wind, I floated up to the ceiling. I could see the small body on the bed clearly. The floral dress was wrinkled around him. His face was paper-white, lips blue, dried bile at the corner of his mouth. He was still clutching the doll. When Mom pushed the door open, I was looking at my hands. Transparent. Sunlight passed through them. She didn’t look at me on the bed. She walked straight to the desk, picked up Chloe’s photo, and wiped it again and again. “Chloe, Mom is going to buy you a new bassinet today. Do you like pink or blue?” She turned to leave and accidentally kicked the bed leg. She glanced impatiently at me on the bed. Frowning, she said, “Still sleeping? The sun is up. Get up and make breakfast. Do you want to starve me and Chloe?” I floated in front of her and spoke, but she couldn’t hear me. She stomped out in her slippers, humming a lullaby. From the kitchen came the sound of Dad beating eggs and Mom’s instruction: “Add two more spoons of sugar. Chloe loved sweets.” I floated to the kitchen door. Dad put a pancake on a plate. It was heart-shaped. I didn’t like heart-shaped pancakes. But since Chloe died, Dad only made them heart-shaped. He said Chloe liked them. Mom took the plate and placed it in the center of the table carefully, like an offering. “Go wake him up,” Mom told Dad impatiently. “Don’t let him delay us buying the bassinet.” Dad put down the milk and walked toward my room. I followed him. He stood by the bed, reaching out, but his hand stopped on the blanket. “Noah, wake up.” His voice was soft. “We’re buying a bassinet today. Want to come?” My body on the bed didn’t move. Dad’s fingers trembled. He shook my shoulder. “Noah?” Mom shouted from the living room: “What’s taking so long? Is he faking sleep again?” She rushed in. Seeing Dad frozen by the bed, she exploded. “He’s definitely faking! He just doesn’t want us to buy Chloe a bassinet! Ignore him. Let’s go. Chloe is waiting.” Dad didn’t move. He looked at my body, agitated. “He is our child too.” “He is not!” Mom screamed. “My only child is Chloe! He is the murderer who killed Chloe!” She grabbed the photo from the desk and smashed it on the floor. Glass shards cut Dad’s hand. Dad said nothing. He picked up the shards silently and wrapped his hand in a tissue. The phone rang. It was the school teacher. Mom answered, voice instantly gentle: “Hello, Mrs. Thompson. Is it about Chloe… I mean, Noah?” Hearing the teacher ask why I wasn’t at school, Mom’s voice turned cold. “He skipped school on purpose. Don’t worry about him. Let him rot.” She hung up and pulled Dad away. “Let’s go. Don’t let him waste our time.” Dad looked back at my room, paused, but let Mom drag him away. As the door closed, I saw Dad wipe his eyes. The house was quiet. Only the clock ticked. I floated to the bed, looking at myself. My face was round but gaunt, chin sharp. My hair was shorter than Mom wanted. Not flowing like Chloe’s. I remembered the last haircut. The barber cut it a bit short, and Mom screamed at him, saying he ruined Chloe’s look. She made me kneel for two hours at home, saying I didn’t deserve to have hair like Chloe’s. Kneeling there, looking at Chloe’s photo, I suddenly felt like a stranger. Chapter 3 In the afternoon, Mom and Dad returned with a pink bassinet embroidered with a princess. Mom was beaming. She placed it in the living room. “Chloe will love this. She loved sleeping with her princess doll.” Dad glanced at my room. “Should we check on Noah?” Mom’s face darkened. “Why? He’ll come out when he’s hungry.” She sat by the bassinet, rocking it gently, humming a lullaby. Her eyes were dripping with love. I floated over to look at the pink bassinet. Small, exquisite. Chloe’s style. Mom said she’d buy it for Chloe’s birthday, but Chloe left before that. Now it’s here. Its little owner is coming back in another way. Mom suddenly looked up, sensing something. She looked in my direction. I quickly floated to the ceiling. Her gaze swept the empty living room, frowned, then went back to the bassinet. “Chloe, Mom is waiting for you,” she whispered. “I won’t let you leave again.” I watched her profile. I wasn’t sad. Mom is finally getting her Chloe back. I, the replacement, should disappear completely. This way, everyone can be happy. On the third morning, someone pounded on the door. I floated to the living room. Mom opened the door impatiently. It was my homeroom teacher, Mrs. Thompson. “Mrs. Sarah,” Mrs. Thompson looked serious. “Noah hasn’t been to school for three days. You didn’t answer my calls, so I came to check.” She tried to look inside. “Is Noah home?” Mom blocked the door. “He’s home. Throwing a tantrum. Don’t worry, I’ll talk to him.” “It’s not a tantrum,” Mrs. Thompson frowned. “Last week, students reported Noah was bullied. Kids stripped his clothes and poured cold water on him. I wanted to discuss this, but couldn’t reach you.” Mom jumped like a cat whose tail was stepped on. “Don’t listen to those kids! Noah must be misbehaving and provoking others! He’s been vicious since he was little. He killed his sister, and now he plays the victim at school!” Mrs. Thompson’s face darkened. “Mrs. Sarah, I saw the bruises on Noah. They are new. And I know Noah was bullied protecting a classmate. He is a good student. You can’t say that.” “Good?!” Mom screamed, loud enough for the neighbors to hear. “If he was good, Chloe wouldn’t be dead! He’s a curse! I shouldn’t have let him live!” Mrs. Thompson was shocked. She sighed. “If you act like this, I have to contact Child Protective Services. Noah is a good boy. You can’t treat him like this.” She turned to leave. Mom cursed behind her back until she disappeared. Closing the door, Mom trembled with rage. She kicked my door. “Noah! Look at the trouble you caused! Even the teacher came! Why don’t you just die!” I floated beside her, looking at her twisted face. I remembered the drowning when I was four. We fell into the river. I tried to hold her hand, but the current separated us. When I was saved, Mom was holding Chloe’s body, crying. The first thing she said to me was, “Why didn’t you die?” Dad came out of the study. “Stop yelling. The neighbors will hear.” His voice was low. “Noah hasn’t eaten in three days. Let’s check on him.” Mom shook off his hand. “Check what? He won’t die!” But this time, Dad didn’t listen. He opened the door. Mom hesitated, then followed. Dad walked over and lifted the quilt. Sunlight hit my body. My pale face, blue lips, and dried blood at the corner of my mouth were clearly visible.

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A new girl, Sienna, transferred in—a bombshell with a sharp attitude. She vowed to have my childhood best friend, Noah, in her bed within months. Without looking up, Noah said, “Stay away. I’m a germaphobe.” But then he gripped my hand, eyes red, and whispered, “Aria, I’ve only ever been yours. Why wait until after graduation? Waiting is killing me.” He paused, then added, “But fine. I’m traditional. A few more months won’t kill me. Your happiness comes first.” Sienna chased him for half a year; he never glanced her way. I thought it was true love—until the pre-semester party. Drunk and barely standing, he leaned on me, murmuring my name desperately: “Aria, have pity on your future husband…” My heart raced. Alone, I tried to steal my first kiss. But as my lips touched his, his hazy eyes snapped open. He pinned me against the door, his voice a rough whisper: “Why so shy tonight? No tongue? Last night in the music room, you were all over me.” A chilling cold washed through me. The boy who swore I was his one and only… was wearing a mask I’d never seen. 1 Noah’s kiss was deep and possessive, his movements far from clumsy. He kissed like an expert. He said last night. So, who was he with last night? Before I could even form the question, he pulled away. He was completely wasted, his eyelids heavy. He let out a low groan, his brow furrowing slightly. “You dummy, still haven’t learned how to breathe?” “Did I teach you nothing?” I took a sharp breath, pushing against his chest. My fingertips trembled, but I forced my voice to stay level. “Noah, look at me. Look who I am.” Noah went silent for a beat, squinting at me. I never imagined that the few seconds before his answer would feel like an eternity. A dreadful possibility was clawing its way into my mind. But I needed to hear it from him. He patted his own cheeks, then gently pinched mine, his words slurred with alcohol. “Sweetheart, are you still in my dream?” “Aria… you’re so much better in my dreams. You let me kiss you whenever I want.” My eyelashes fluttered. Hearing my name, that gnawing anxiety in my gut subsided, just for a moment. So, he thought he was dreaming. Noah cupped my face, his warm lips descending on mine again. “Breathe, sweetheart. Don’t hold your breath and turn all red like last time.” He cooed and kissed me, peppering his words with all the old pet names he had for me. When he was done, he flopped onto the bed and buried his face in the pillows, as if embarrassed. “Damn, this dream feels real.” I sat beside him on the edge of the bed, my thoughts racing. After a few moments, I stood up. Whatever. Noah was an idiot. He’d been chasing me his whole life. Even if he was hiding something, he was terrible at keeping secrets. It would come out eventually. No one else was home tonight. I pulled out my phone to order some hangover soup, but it died right in my hand. Too lazy to find a charger, I grabbed Noah’s phone instead. The lock screen was still the latest picture I’d sent him. He always claimed he got bored easily, so he demanded at least three new, different photos of me every week. If I didn’t deliver, he’d pout and ignore me, a real pain to win back over. I always teased him about it. “If you get bored so easily, how have you been stuck on me for so many years?” He’d just grin, all carefree charm. “Tough luck. You’re the one I like.” But when I tried my fingerprint to unlock the phone, it failed. Of the five fingerprints registered on his phone, one was his. The other four were mine. I tried each of my fingers. All of them failed. Did he delete them by mistake? Noah wasn’t that careless. I tried the passcode next: my birthday. He’d used that code for years. He wouldn’t change it. But it failed, too. Just then, a notification popped up on the screen. It was a picture, from Sienna. The girl who had been chasing Noah for months. 2 My hand tightened around the phone, my knuckles white. When did they become friends on social media? Didn’t Noah say he couldn’t stand her? To be fair, Noah had always had a legion of admirers. But he was aloof and had a sharp tongue. That, combined with his blatant, unwavering devotion to me, made most girls give up pretty quickly. Sienna was the only one who had lasted this long. And she was the only one who truly got under his skin. I remember one evening after our late study session, she cornered me in the hallway. Her voice was laced with ice. “Aria, you and Noah aren’t actually dating, are you?” “So it’s fair game. May the best woman win.” Her hostility was palpable. Before I could respond, Noah appeared, snagging my backpack and slinging it over his shoulder with practiced ease. He handed me a warm carton of milk and carefully adjusted my scarf and hat. Noah was usually so mild-mannered, but that night, I could feel the storm brewing inside him. He took my hand, his tall frame shielding me from her glare, and his voice was cold steel. “She doesn’t have to compete with you. Because I’m the one chasing her.” “And you’re right, we’re not dating. I’m just her future husband.” Noah was silent the entire walk home that night. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore and poked his arm. “What’s wrong?” His eyes were red, and he pinched my cheek, his tone accusatory. “Aren’t you even a little bit jealous?” “Someone says that to you, and you have no reaction? Do you not even like me?” Oh, so that was it. I shook my head. “No, because I know your heart only has room for me.” Noah’s lips pressed into a thin line, but I could see he was pleased. He took my hand again, his grip tight. “I can’t wait for graduation, Aria. I want to date you so badly.” I looked down, remembering what Noah’s mother had told me. “Aria, sweetie, I know Noah has loved you since you were little, and I don’t object to you two. But can you promise me you’ll wait until after graduation to say yes to him?” I squeezed Noah’s hand, thinking to myself. Just wait a little longer, Noah. There’s only one semester left. 3 I put Noah’s phone down and went to my own room downstairs. The room I had lived in for over a decade. When I was three, my parents divorced. My mother, raising me alone, found a job with the Scotts, Noah’s family. She worked as their housekeeper, and we lived there with them. Noah and I are the same age. We grew up side by side. Even as a kid, Noah had this “keep your distance” aura. I was a little scared of him, but I was always polite, calling him my big brother. He never answered back, but he always included me when he played with his friends. I guess I was a cute kid, because one of the boys once told Noah to share me with him. Noah, who was always so cool and collected, exploded. He tackled the boy, pinned him to the ground, and just snarled, “Get lost.” It was the first time I’d ever seen him angry, the first time I’d heard him swear. On the way home, I trailed timidly behind him, calling his name. Still fuming, he turned and yelled at me, another first. “Don’t call me your brother!” I was so scared I avoided him for days, until he finally cornered me. His tone was softer then, and he used a nickname for me for the very first time. “Aria, are you dense?” “Brothers and sisters can’t get married.” I froze, my heart pounding in my chest. I’d imagined he hated me, that he was annoyed by me… But I had never, ever imagined he might actually like me. After his confession, Noah became even more shamelessly devoted to me. His love wasn’t quiet like he was; it was loud, passionate, and on full display. Everyone knew it. Noah Scott would only ever marry one person in his life. Aria Lane. But tonight, my mind couldn’t stop racing. His practiced, expert kiss. The way he called me “sweetheart.” And that picture from Sienna, the one I couldn’t see. 4 The next day was the first day of the new semester. My mom had taken a month off to visit family, and Noah’s parents were away on a business trip. It was just me and Noah in the house. I hadn’t slept a wink, so naturally, I overslept. The moment I opened my door, I walked straight into Noah’s chest. A faint scent of citrus hit me. I sniffed the air, asking without thinking, “Did you change your body wash? It smells… unfamiliar.” For years, he had insisted on using the same brand as me. He’d never switched, not once. Even yesterday, when we went out, he smelled like my body wash. Noah’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He gave a quiet “mmhmm.” He clearly didn’t want to elaborate. “I made you breakfast. Let’s get to school.” I took the breakfast sandwich he handed me and pursed my lips. “My mom told me to take care of you…” Noah grabbed my hand, a faint smile playing on his lips. “You, take care of someone? You practically threw me on the bed last night and disappeared.” I seized the opportunity. “I was going to order you some hangover soup, but my phone died. And you changed your phone’s passcode.” Noah paused for a second before explaining, “The guys figured out my password was your birthday last time. It’s not secure.” “You know my phone is filled with pictures of you. I’d lose my mind if even one got out.” “Oh,” I said. He continued, “I changed it to the day I first told you I liked you.” I nodded, pretending to understand. But a thought still nagged at me. That doesn’t explain why you deleted my fingerprints. Just as I was about to press him further, Noah handed me his phone and leaned back against the car window, closing his eyes. “Go ahead, look. It’s not every day I get an inspection from you.” “Finally starting to care about what I’m up to, huh?” I’d never done anything like this before, but today, I had to know. So I opened his chat history. Sienna’s contact was gone. I tossed the phone onto his lap. “I saw Sienna send you a message yesterday. It was a picture. It’s gone now.” Noah didn’t even open his eyes. “Yeah. She sent me an explicit photo. I blocked and deleted her.” 5 …An explicit photo? A lump formed in my throat. I wanted to ask him why he’d added her in the first place. I thought he couldn’t stand her. But what right did I have to ask? We weren’t anything, officially. Everyone thought I was just stringing him along, refusing to say yes after he’d poured his heart out for so long. But Mrs. Scott had taken my mother and me in when we had nowhere else to go. We owed them everything. I had to honor the one condition she’d given me. Besides, it was just a little longer. Being with Noah at all was more than I could have ever hoped for. “Aria, I didn’t know it was her when I accepted the request.” He held up his phone, showing me his lock screen—my face—his eyes softening with a genuine tenderness. “It just disgusted me. She’s got nothing on my Aria.” In class, Noah sat beside me as usual. He expertly unpacked my various snacks from his backpack, along with new pens and notebooks, and a few other little things he knew I sometimes needed. He was always like that, taking care of every little detail. Sienna was the last one to arrive. On this frigid winter day, she wore a tight, cropped top under a thin jacket, paired with a skirt that barely reached her mid-thigh. She sauntered in, chewing gum, and tossed her bag onto the desk across the aisle from Noah. Noah’s pen froze for a second. He glanced at me. “Aria, switch seats with me.” Sienna just smirked and plopped down into her chair. I moved to Noah’s seat. As soon as I sat down, I was hit by a wave of citrus. The same scent that was on Noah. Only here, it was much, much stronger. 6 First period was a study hall. I told myself to stop overthinking and buried my head in my workbook. A folded note slid onto my desk. It was from Sienna. I hesitated for a moment, then unfolded it. “He smells like me, doesn’t he?” I crumpled the note into a tight ball and threw it at Noah in frustration. He was in the middle of organizing my notes on problems I’d gotten wrong. He raised an eyebrow at me, then slowly unfolded the paper. As he read the words, his fingers clenched, crumpling it again. Noah muttered a curse under his breath and pulled me out of my seat and into the hallway. The class monitor called after us, but we were already gone. He sighed and wrote both our names on the board for detention. At the end of the empty hall, I yanked my hand free. “What is wrong with you?” “What kind of lies is she feeding you now?” I pressed my lips together. “She’s not lying. You both have the same scent.” Noah sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Don’t listen to her nonsense. I ran into her the other day when I was buying you snacks.” “She must have seen me grab some new body wash. She’s doing this on purpose to mess with you.” It felt like too many coincidences, but I chose to believe Noah wouldn’t lie to me. “Okay, I get it. I didn’t say anything. Let’s go back to class.” Noah reached for my hand, but I flinched away instinctively. I was distracted for the rest of the day, making stupid mistakes on the simplest problems. On the walk home, for the first time in forever, Noah didn’t hold my hand or talk to me. Usually, the walk from the classroom to the school gate was his dedicated pestering time. He’d chatter endlessly, a stark contrast to the cool, quiet persona he showed everyone else. It was an endearing, adorable side of him that I loved. But today, he was just staring at his phone. He had long legs and a fast pace. He forgot about me, leaving me trailing behind. I clutched my backpack straps and jogged to catch up. 7 That evening, Noah brought a glass of warm milk to my room. He leaned against the doorframe, watching me drink it all. Then he pushed his hair back from his forehead and smiled. “Can I have a hug?” I nodded. We’d already kissed last night, so a hug didn’t seem like a big deal. I walked over and stepped into his embrace. The scent that hit me wasn’t the citrus from earlier. It was my scent, the one he was supposed to smell like. Didn’t he say he switched his body wash? Noah’s phone buzzed. He glanced at it. Then he released me and left without looking back. “Get some sleep.” I stood frozen in place, the lingering scent of him clinging to me, a confusing, unsettling presence that I couldn’t shake. Later that night, as I was getting ready for bed, I got a new friend request. The profile picture was familiar. It was Sienna. I accepted. A message came through immediately. [Remember what I said three months ago? Well, I did it.] [I tested him out for you. He’s amazing, by the way. And very… gifted.]

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The women in the office had a sick obsession with turning everything into a sexual rumor. If I wore a dress, it was to “seduce men.” If my employee number was eight, they whispered I was a high-end escort, “Technician Number Eight.” One colleague, a decent guy, once tried to defend me. Tara Jenkins just scoffed. “It’s just a joke, hon. Does she still want that full-time offer or not?” That was her secret weapon—holding our internships hostage. It wasn’t until the day I went to headquarters to drop off files and hitched a ride back with the Chairman that Tara finally found a rumor she could hang onto. “Hey, Andrea,” she called out, pausing just long enough for the entire floor to look up. “The man who drove you back today in that Maybach, he looked pretty old. Was that your dad?” Everyone knew I was an orphan. It was the one piece of personal information I couldn’t hide. Tara slapped her forehead, feigning a sudden, tragic recollection. “Oh, darn it! He was being so affectionate—arm around you, leaning in—I just assumed he was your father. I completely forgot you don’t have a dad. You’re not mad, are you?” A few nervous, ugly snickers rippled through the cubicles. I looked her dead in the eye, maintaining a professional smile. “Tara, do you genuinely believe he was my dad?” She covered her mouth with her hand, a practiced gesture of false apology. “Well, yeah! With all those wrinkles, anyone would think he was your dad. I’m just kidding, though! Don’t take it personally.” I wouldn’t take it personally. Not anymore. What she didn’t know was that I had a system. A gift, or maybe a curse, designed to counteract the poison of public slander. I called it the Rumor Reality System. If I was slandered exactly ninety-nine times, I could pick one, any one of those rumors, and make it irrevocably true. Since she was so generous as to try and bless me with a billionaire father, I decided I would accept her gift. … 1 I leaned forward, making my question as earnest as possible. “Tara, you truly think the man in that car was my dad?” Tara covered her mouth again, her eyes shining with malicious amusement. “Totally! An old guy like that standing next to you? Who else would he be? Though,” she paused, leaning in conspiratorially, “Maybe not a biological dad. A sugar dad, then!” She gave a high-pitched, fake laugh. “Honestly, I’m just a joker. You have to get used to it. How else are you going to survive here once you’re full-time?” There it was again. The threat of the full-time offer, the secret key she used to control all the interns. The system chimed. Rumor Count: Ninety-Six. I stayed silent, hoping my lack of reaction would make her lose interest. Please, just stop. But as I bent over my keyboard, a phone was suddenly thrust inches from my face. Tara held the phone toward me, a wide, predatory grin on her face. “Hey, guys, look at this! Our little intern here is moving up in the world. She won’t even deliver files unless it’s in a Maybach! Baller, right?” She turned the camera back toward herself and winked. “You want to know how she lives like that? Does she rely on her mom or her dad?” She gave an overly suggestive, slow blink. “Oh, right, she’s an orphan. She doesn’t rely on her parents. She relies on working hard all day, and working harder all night!” Her voice was thick with implication. I started to speak, ready to finally snap back. Tara cut me off with a sickeningly sweet, fabricated smile. “Andrea Hale, I mean you work so hard you take two jobs! How is that not sitting in a luxury car based on your own efforts?” A nearby colleague shifted uncomfortably. “Wasn’t that Maybach the Chairman’s car? I think he just gave Andrea a ride because it was on the way.” Tara immediately scoffed, rolling her eyes as she returned to scrolling through her feed. “My point exactly. Like you could ever afford to sit in a Maybach on your own.” I forced down the searing spike of rage and focused on my screen. Just then, Tara burst into loud laughter. She looked up, her expression a mask of undisguised malice. “Andrea Hale, the chat thread says someone actually recognizes you!” I frowned, confused by the new angle. “Wait a minute, I think I do too…” Tara tapped her chin. “I remember! Didn’t you used to work at that spa? What was it called… The Sapphire Room!” She snapped her fingers, certainty settling on her face. “That’s it! The Sapphire Room! I knew you looked familiar the first time I saw you.” The local colleagues immediately murmured in confusion. “The Sapphire Room? Isn’t that that high-end escort place?” Tara turned to me, gripping my hand with a false show of motherly concern. “Andrea, you need to listen to me. You can’t keep working at The Sapphire Room. This company fires people for having second jobs, especially that kind.” The looks aimed at me hardened. Pity curdled into disgust. I took a deep breath, gently pulling my hand away. “Tara, you’re absolutely right. We did meet at The Sapphire Room. I recognized you the first time I saw you, too.” Tara froze, the smile sliding off her face. “I—” I tilted my head, letting a cold smile play on my lips. “Your memory must be going, Tara. You thought I was a colleague of yours.” I leaned closer, pitching my voice just loud enough for the immediate area. “I was there with an executive meeting, and I actually booked you a couple of times when you were a ‘technician.’ Did you forget?” 2 A collective snicker, then a wave of choked-off, muffled laughter, broke out across the office. Tara shrieked in protest. “You’re lying! What kind of bulls**t is that? I’ve never been a technician!” I covered my mouth, mirroring her earlier gesture. “Oh, Tara, I’m just pulling your leg! You know, making a little joke to lighten the mood!” “You wouldn’t mind, would you?” Tara was speechless, her face crimson with fury. Ryan Cross, my boyfriend, rushed over and pulled me away. “Tara, she’s being an idiot. I’ll talk to her, I promise!” He dragged me to the side of the room. “What did I tell you? She’s a gossip, she doesn’t have a filter, but you can’t let her get to you! Does it actually hurt you to let her talk?” I laughed, a sharp, bitter sound. “She just publicly implied I’m a prostitute! And I can’t respond?!” Ryan ran a hand through his hair, frustration etched on his face. “Do you know how many people are desperate to get into Summit Group? We need this full-time offer, and we have to kiss her butt to get it. Why are you picking this fight?” I kept my face cold, refusing to answer. A flicker of impatience crossed his features, quickly replaced by something meaner. “Why is it that everyone else can handle this, but you have to make a scene? You need to look at your position here. You’re not exactly irreplaceable…” I heard the last part, even though he mumbled it. You’re not exactly irreplaceable. The phrase struck me with the force of a blow. I was about to respond when the manager walked in, announcing the dates for the mandatory annual corporate physical exams. As soon as the manager finished, Ryan tried to approach me again. I ignored him, gathering my things and heading straight home. The next morning, I arrived at the clinic at the scheduled time. After completing a series of routine checks, I carried my chart to the last required stop: the pelvic examination. The doctor didn’t look up. “Andrea Hale, right? Pants off, lie down.” I hesitated. I was unmarried, and this was an invasive exam. But the doctor was impatient, so I complied. She adjusted the speculum and began the examination. “Ah!” A sharp gasp escaped me. Cold sweat immediately broke out as a jolt of pain stole my breath. The doctor froze, the instrument still inside me. “Every married woman gets this exam. Stop being so dramatic!” I stared at her, stunned, before managing to explain I was not married. “Unmarried? Why are you even here for this? Are you wasting my time?” The doctor was genuinely angry now. She pointed at the file note on her computer screen. “It says right here your company noted you have three prior marriages and are sexually active and high-risk. You’re flagged for a full workup!” I saw the highlighted, yellow-marked text on the monitor. My mind went instantly blank. The noise of my outburst drew the attention of the people waiting in line behind me. Their judgmental stares felt like physical blows. I stumbled out, my brain reeling, and didn’t stop until I burst back into the office. I slapped the notes sheet down on Tara’s desk. “How dare you tamper with my medical exam form?” Tara stifled a giggle. “Consider it a free premium wellness package upgrade! Are you happy with it?” I was shaking, my teeth grinding. “This is a criminal offense!” Everyone turned to look. Tara’s eyes immediately welled up with fake tears. “Everyone, please judge! I was worried about her health, so I upgraded her exam, and I might have accidentally checked the wrong box! She doesn’t appreciate it and is trying to blame me!” One colleague spoke up to mediate. “Andrea, everyone makes mistakes. You didn’t suffer any real damage, did you? Don’t be so unforgiving.” “Yeah, she was trying to help you. That’s a terrible way to talk to someone!” another added. Someone else shook their head. “Ungrateful much? She gets extra benefits, and she gets mad? No good deed goes unpunished.” I was vibrating with fury. “She changed my status from single to having three marriages and added a vaginal ultrasound to my required tests!” “If this had gone through today, it would have been a double assault—on my reputation and my body!” I yelled. “Who is going to be held accountable for that?!” The room grew quiet. “Well, that’s… that is a bit much.” “Tara, honestly, a young woman like that, how is she supposed to get married now?” Hearing the general disapproval, Tara’s fake tears instantly dried up. She shouted, voice dripping with self-righteousness, “I was just trying to protect all of us!” “She has syphilis! It’s contagious!” 3 The office fell into a stunned silence. When the colleagues registered what she’d said, their shock turned to immediate terror. Tara pointed at me, her voice ringing with false authority. “I’m in HR. I saw her file. The company can’t reject a candidate just because they have a communicable disease. But a dirty disease like this could spread to all of us!” “I only asked the doctor to check her thoroughly to ensure everyone’s safety! Is that wrong?” Blood rushed to my head. I stared at her, my voice a dangerous whisper. “What did you just say?” Tara pulled up a screen shot on her phone, a supposed disease confirmation. “Some people pretend to be pure college students on the surface, but who knows what kind of depraved life they lead to catch something like this!” The colleagues erupted in an angry chorus. “What the hell! No wonder she was so angry about a simple check-up! She has something to hide!” “Oh, God, I sit right next to her! I’m taking the rest of the day off to go get checked!” … The room was chaos. Tara looked at me, her eyes full of triumphant malice. I felt a profound, chilling calmness settle over me. “Tara Jenkins, I am calling the police right now. Are you ready to take responsibility for every word you just said?” A flicker of panic crossed her face. I pressed the call button, but the phone was suddenly snatched from my hand by Ryan, who had just walked in. He threw my phone hard onto the floor and started yelling. “How much longer are you going to keep this up? It was a few office jokes, and you’re going to call the police? What a drama queen!” “You clearly don’t know how to navigate basic office politics. If I wasn’t here to protect you, you’d have been fired eight hundred times by now!” The suppressed emotion of weeks finally broke. Tears poured from my eyes. “She just told the entire office I have syphilis! Am I supposed to just agree with her?!” Ryan was momentarily stunned. He dragged me out of the office. His eyes looked genuinely hurt. “Andrea, I know how hurt you are. Do you think I don’t suffer when she says those things?” “But we need that full-time offer! And my mom already hates your background. If we don’t stay at Summit Group, she’ll never let us be together.” “They announce the full-time transfer list tomorrow at the staff meeting. I’m begging you. You’ve put up with it for weeks. Can’t you just hang on for one more day?” His desperate plea didn’t soften me. It hardened me. In his eyes, my reputation, my dignity, and the profound trauma I’d just endured were utterly insignificant compared to his job promotion. My last vestige of hope for him evaporated. The system chimed. Rumor Count: Ninety-Seven. Two more. I clenched my fists, forcing myself to breathe and calm down. Given Tara’s speed, Ryan’s dream of a full-time offer was likely about to crash and burn. Seeing my silence, Ryan mistook it for surrender. He was ecstatic, pulling me into a hug. “I knew you were the reasonable one! I promise, the second I get that offer, I’ll go with you to sue her! I won’t let her hurt you again!” The next day, during the employee assembly, the interns delivered their final reports. Summit Group only granted a tiny fraction of full-time offers, and this year, only one person per team would be selected. I was awarded “Outstanding Intern” for having the highest performance scores on the team. The company had prepared gifts for every intern. The first intern received a new laptop. “Perfect! My old one just died!” he shouted excitedly. The next few received expensive designer scarves or limited-edition collectibles. Each gift was something the intern needed or specifically liked. Ryan received a pricey bespoke suit. He enthusiastically thanked Tara, who presented the gifts. When it was my turn to go on stage, everyone leaned forward, eager to see what I’d receive. “A phone? A computer?” “Andrea was the top performer, it has to be something expensive! Someone over there got a three-year car lease!” Under the gaze of hundreds of colleagues, I slowly lifted the lid of the box. Inside, resting on a bed of satin, was a vibrating dildo. 4 The entire hall erupted in a shocked murmur. I involuntarily recoiled, letting go of the box. The item clattered to the floor. “Andrea, don’t drop your gift! Handle it carefully.” Tara picked it up using two fingers, her face a mask of undisguised malice. “We appreciate your contributions to the company during your internship, Andrea. But we can’t exactly endorse the methods of contribution…” “Four settings, portable and waterproof, with current stimulation. I figured this is the kind of repair you’d need most! Don’t mention it!” Tara’s words caused an instant uproar. “Wait—what is she implying? That Andrea slept her way to her performance numbers?” “Didn’t Tara say she had a dirty disease the other day? God, it all makes sense now…” The whispers, the jeers, and Tara’s triumphant face. The system’s prompt—the ninety-eighth rumor—was irrelevant now. My blood boiled over. “What the hell are you talking about now?!” Tara just smirked at me. A sudden, terrible premonition hit me. A collective gasp swept through the audience. I turned to follow their line of sight. On the massive screen behind me, my presentation slides had been replaced. In their place was a slideshow of explicit, high-definition private photos. One after another, images flashed of my face paired with the bodies of various different men. None of the bodies were mine. My hands and feet went ice-cold. I was rooted to the spot. As soon as I realized what was happening, I lunged to shut off the projector. Tara snatched the microphone. “Intern Andrea Hale has engaged in promiscuous private conduct and has used inappropriate methods to gain contracts. Due to the severe damage Andrea’s behavior has caused to the company’s reputation…” I roared, cutting her off. “Those are not me!” Tara gave me a look of pure contempt. “I’m sorry, but we received an anonymous, sworn statement.” “Your full-time offer is rescinded immediately and will be offered to the next candidate.” I finally understood. I spun around and looked at the second-place candidate, Ryan Cross. “It was you!” Ryan’s eyes darted away. He reached out to steady me. “Just calm down—” “Calm down?! How can I calm down!” The pain, the anger, and the weeks of suppressed rage exploded. “You knew how much she was hurting me with those rumors! Why did you do this?!” Tara stepped in, playing the role of Ryan’s defender. “Andrea, why are you attacking Ryan? What man would tolerate his girlfriend cheating on him? If anything, Ryan is the victim here!” The colleagues joined the pile-on. “Tsk tsk. She sells her body, and she expected Ryan to keep it a secret?” “If I were her boyfriend, I’d charge her for emotional damages. Ryan is a saint!” The high-level executives in the room looked furious, claiming I had disgraced the company and threatening to blacklist me from the entire industry. The wave of insults made me dizzy. A mechanical voice cut through the haze. “Ding! Congratulations, Host! Tara Jenkins has spread ninety-nine rumors. You may now select one rumor to make irrevocably true. Activate?” I didn’t hesitate. Confirm. A company representative stepped forward, demanding my ID badge and telling me to leave immediately. Ryan’s expression flickered with a hint of shame, but he remained silent. Tara’s eyes narrowed, a sharp glint of triumph in them. She leaned closer and whispered, “I didn’t force him, he came to me. For you interns, if I want you to stay, you stay. If I want you gone, you have to pack your bags and crawl out!” Then, she waved an arm and summoned the two security guards. “Strip her and search her thoroughly! She isn’t allowed to leave with even a single company pen!” I fought back, pain lancing through me. “Tara Jenkins, you will regret this! I swear you will!” Tara laughed dismissively. “You? An intern? You don’t know whose turf you’re on, shouting at me like that!” “Who the hell do you think you are?” She signaled the guards to move. They surrounded me. “Stop!” The main doors burst open. An older man with a shock of white hair strode quickly toward the stage. It was Wallace King, the Chairman of Summit Group. He scanned the scene—the tear-streaked intern, the security guards, the crude image on the screen—and his face turned to thunder. “I’ll tell you who she is!” “She is my biological daughter, lost for twenty-three years, and the sole heiress to the Summit Group!”

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