Category: English

1 The wedding I’d dreamed of since high school—the one that was supposed to take us from prom to the altar—became a cruel public joke in front of two hundred guests. And the ringmaster was my own sister. She stood beside Nathan—the man who should have been mine—wearing a white gown just like mine. Step by step, they walked toward me. “Daisy, I’m pregnant with Nathan’s baby,” Anna announced. “We’re already married. He’s your brother-in-law now.” Her words exploded in my ears. As their marriage certificate flashed on the giant screen, she handed me the physical copy, as if to make sure I saw it clearly. Against the document’s bright red background, their smiles beamed like a long-devoted couple. The registration date: yesterday. “Why?” I choked out, tears burning behind my eyes. Nathan frowned, a flicker of guilt crossing his face. “Daisy, Anna only has a year left,” he said, voice thick with pity. “This is her final wish—to marry the man she loves, to leave a child behind. She’s your sister. You understand, don’t you?” But who would understand me? Staring at his righteous face, a broken laugh rose inside me. It was all so absurd. So agonizing. … Tears streamed down my cheeks as I screamed, my voice raw, “So to ‘understand,’ I have to let my fiancé sleep with her? I have to give up my own wedding?” Since we were children, my sister had been the sole recipient of our parents’ affection. And her favorite pastime was taking whatever belonged to me. My clothes, my toys, my friends… When I met Nathan, I thought I’d finally found something that was mine alone—a love that was sacred. But she had to steal this too. “Anna, I’m begging you, get out of my wedding! Get out of my life!” “That’s enough! Don’t you dare speak to her like that!” Nathan snapped, his eyes sharp with anger. “If it weren’t for Anna, do you think I would have ever gotten together with you?” “What… what does that mean?” I stared at him, the world tilting under my feet. “Daisy, I’m so sorry. Please, don’t fight because of me anymore.” Anna suddenly burst into tears. “I was just scared that after I die, Mom and Dad would have nothing to live for. I wanted to leave them with a reason to go on. Marrying Nathan… it was the only way. I don’t want my child to be born without a mother and a father.” “But if you can’t accept it, then… then I’ll just go die right now!” With that, Anna lunged toward the nearest wall, aiming to smash her head against it. A collective gasp swept through the hall. Just as she was about to make impact, the wedding planner dashed forward and yanked her back. Everyone let out a sigh of relief. Nathan shot me a venomous, blaming glare before rushing to comfort her. My parents scrambled over, hugging her with faces etched in heartbreak. “Don’t save me! Let me die!” Anna sobbed. “I’m not going to live long anyway! This way, Daisy can get her wish! If she can be happy, then my death will be worth it.” Her words twisted the knife, making me the villain once again. As expected, my mother, hearing this, stormed over to me. The sharp crack of her hand against my cheek echoed in the stunned silence. “I don’t have a daughter with a heart as black as yours!” I clutched my stinging cheek, my eyes burning. I looked at my mother, truly looked at her. My entire life, she had been a ghost, a shadow in the corner, indifferent to my joys and my sorrows. But the second Anna was involved, she would materialize, ready to defend her. It had always been this way. Nathan’s face was a mask of disappointment. “She’s your sister, Daisy, and you’re trying to drive her to her death. You’re too cruel.” “Apologize to Anna right now, or we can forget about ever having a wedding!” SLAP! I swung my own hand, striking him across the face with all the force I could muster. “You’re disgusting!” The wedding I had dreamed of since I was a teenager ended in a humiliating retreat. I went straight back to our new home. By the time Nathan returned, I had finished packing. I was dragging my suitcase to the door. He grabbed my hand, rubbing his temples in exasperation. “Are you really going to make a scene over this?” “It’s only for a year, Daisy. Then I’ll come back to you. Can you please stop being so dramatic?” I wrenched my hand away. “Dramatic?” “Nathan, we’ve been together for so long. Did you ever truly love me? If you had just told me you fell in love with someone else, I would have stepped aside.” “But what did you do? You went behind my back, slept with my sister, and then you both humiliated me in front of everyone we know!” The memory sent a chill through my entire body. “What do you take me for?” Nathan faltered for a second. “Daisy, I know this is hard for you.” Just like that. A simple acknowledgment to gloss over the gaping wound he’d torn in my life. How pathetic. I looked down, the last embers of love for him finally extinguished. “Nathan,” I said, my voice flat. “We’re done.” We were done the moment he chose to hurt me. “Get out!” I shoved him and his suitcase out the door and slammed it shut. I had bought this house. He was the one who had to leave. Ignoring his frantic knocking, I walked back into the living room and sank onto the sofa. Nathan and I had been together for seven years. He was my desk mate in my final year of high school, a transfer student who was a year older than everyone else. An orphan, he was quiet and aloof with everyone but me. After graduation, we fell together naturally. We had our sweet moments, and our arguments. He always said his greatest dream was to marry me, to give me a home. When he made that promise, his eyes had been filled with nothing but love and sincerity. I truly believed we were the couple who would make it from the classroom to the altar. And I never even saw when he and Anna had gotten together. I covered my face, trying not to cry. But the sobs came, ragged and unstoppable. I spent three days in a fog, until my best friend, Chloe, rushed back from her business trip. The moment she walked in, she wrapped me in a hug, her own eyes turning red. We’d been friends since we were kids. Her work trip was the only reason she’d missed the wedding. “I never should have gone. I should have been here with you. This is all my fault…” She cried until she couldn’t anymore. Finally, she sniffled and looked at me, her eyes hard. “Daisy, we can’t let them get away with this. They humiliated you.” “And you know your sister. She’s a drama queen. I guarantee she has more planned.” I nodded. Anna and I were sisters by blood, but she’d despised me since we were born. Compounded by her illness—a doctor’s grim prediction that she wouldn’t live past twenty-eight—our parents had always coddled her out of guilt. I had suffered at her hands my entire life. And now, she was using her final days to plot against me, to ensure I lived the rest of my life in her shadow? In her dreams. I refused to be a pawn in her and Nathan’s sick game. I wiped my tears and told Chloe my thoughts. She immediately started helping me find witnesses who could attest to my long relationship with Nathan. Meanwhile, I gathered all the evidence of our love story. I didn’t know what their next move would be, but I wasn’t going to just sit here and take it. I never imagined Anna could be so shameless. After a few days of rest, I went back to work. I had been out for so long that my desk was piled high with tasks. I was so busy I barely had time to eat. That evening, I walked into my apartment to find my parents sitting on my sofa with Anna and Nathan. I’d forgotten. Nathan still had a spare key. The sight of him, the memory of everything we’d shared in this very house, made my stomach turn. I took a deep breath. I needed to sell this place, and fast. “What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice hard as stone. My mother pretended not to notice my tone. “Daisy, honey, you and Anna are sisters. There’s nothing you can’t get past.” “Anna has already promised that after she’s gone, we’ll throw a magnificent wedding for you and Nathan to make it up to you.” “This time, it was Mom and Dad who didn’t think things through.” It was rare for my mother to sound apologetic, but it only made me colder. “So, you and Dad knew about it that day?” Their eyes darted away, a clear sign of their guilt. I let out a cold laugh. Of course. My mother pressed her lips together. “Your sister and her child needed a legitimate status. The wedding was the best place to announce it.” Because Anna needed it, they sacrificed me without a second thought. I closed my eyes, a bitter smile on my face. I’d always known I wasn’t as important as Anna to them. But I never knew just how worthless I was. Anna chose that moment to chime in. “Daisy, don’t blame Mom and Dad. They did it all for me.” “I know you’re upset, but I couldn’t bear to miss out on my chance with Nathan again. We… we already missed each other once before.” As she spoke, she gazed at Nathan with deep affection. His eyes softened with a look of shared pain. My heart stopped. I suddenly remembered that before Nathan had transferred to our school, he had a first love. I’d asked him about her before, but he always changed the subject. I never imagined his first love was my own sister. No wonder he was so special to me, and only me. All these years, I was just a stand-in. A substitute. My fists clenched. Anna, Nathan! You’ve gone too far! Perhaps my expression was too terrifying, because Nathan didn’t dare look at me. Anna, however, pressed on. “Daisy, I know you love Nathan very much.” “But I love him too, and I don’t want to share him with another woman. But what can I do? You’re my sister.” She started to cry, a picture of fragile beauty. “If you agree to have a hysterectomy, I’m willing to let Nathan marry you after I’m gone.” Anna’s sobs were heartbreaking. Nathan pulled her into his arms, the two of them looking like a pair of star-crossed lovers. My parents were openly weeping. “That’s right, Daisy,” my mother said. “Your sister doesn’t have much time left. Just give in to her this once. I know your father and I neglected you, and that’s why you’re so stubborn.” “Here’s what we’ll do. You move back home with us, and we’ll make it up to you. For now, let Anna and Nathan have this new house.” “You can move back in after a year…” I looked at Anna. When no one was watching, she shot me a triumphant smirk. The victor. SLAP! I couldn’t take it anymore. I lunged forward and struck Anna across the face. She let out a piercing shriek. My parents and Nathan froze. “Daisy, don’t you—” SLAP! Nathan started to speak, and I hit him too. Without another word, I stormed into the kitchen, grabbed a butcher knife, and came back out, pointing it directly at them. My eyes were glacial. “Get. Out.” They were all stunned into silence. My mother trembled. “I’m your mother! You ungrateful child!” “Get out!” I repeated, my voice even colder. I started waving the knife wildly, driving them out like a madwoman. Terrified of getting cut, they huddled together, protecting Anna as they scrambled for the door. Watching their pathetic retreat, I spat. “You want my house, Anna? Not in this lifetime!” “And as for Nathan, that piece of trash? If you want him, you can have him. I don’t!” Hearing me call him trash, Nathan’s face contorted. He tried to argue, but I slammed the door in his face. Outside, my parents screamed insults at me, calling me a heartless viper. I couldn’t be bothered to listen. With the door shut, I could finally breathe again. But my head was spinning. The next thing I knew, I was waking up in a hospital. Chloe was by my side, relief washing over her face. “Thank God I asked your neighbor to keep an eye on things! I knew they were bad news!” “I came in and found you on the floor! It was just low blood sugar, but you scared me to death!” “I’m sorry I made you worry,” I said, ashamed. “Don’t say that!” she scolded playfully, then her expression turned mischievous. “But hey, there’s a silver lining!” She handed me a few sheets of paper. “I picked these up for you while I was at it.” It was the pre-marital health screening report Nathan and I had done. Confused, I started reading. A single line made me freeze. I gasped. “Nathan is sterile?!” “Then the baby in Anna’s belly… it’s not his?!” I was so shocked my voice rose to a shriek. Chloe grinned and nodded. “I was floored too! I even double-checked with the doctor. He said there’s no way Nathan could ever have children!” “The idiot is eagerly playing daddy to another man’s kid! He deserves it!” She laughed, a sound full of malicious glee. Hearing that, I started laughing too. It was the best news I’d had in what felt like an eternity. “So what’s your plan? Are you going to tell him now? Though, Daisy, you should probably just…” “The only thing I feel for him is hatred,” I cut her off. I thought for a moment. “We keep this a secret for now.” “We wait until Anna is seven or eight months along. Then we tell them.” By then, an abortion would be out of the question. Anna was willing to use her own unborn child and sacrifice my entire life just to trap me. So I would dismantle her plan, piece by piece, until she couldn’t rest in peace. Chloe gave me a thumbs-up. We looked at each other and smiled. I was so grateful to have her by my side through all of this. We spent the next hour plotting our next steps. I stayed in the hospital overnight. When they confirmed I was fine, I discharged myself, telling Chloe not to worry about picking me up. When I got to my apartment, Nathan was squatting by the door. The moment I saw him, my face went cold. “Are you okay? I heard you were in the hospital,” he said, trying to sound like the devoted man I once knew. I used to love his gentleness. He was cold to the world, but always warm and soft with me. Now, knowing I was just a substitute, the thought of his touch made me sick. “None of your damn business,” I snarled. “Daisy!” He reached for me, but I dodged him. “Can’t you just behave?” he said, his voice laced with exhaustion. “Just wait for me to get through this year with Anna, and then we can be together. Please, just wait for me.” I laughed, a harsh, ugly sound. “You are truly disgusting. What, you want to have us both? Live out some sick fantasy?” “Daisy! We love each other. Why are you making this so complicated?” “Love each other? In your dreams,” I said coldly. “After everything you’ve done, do you really think I’d still be stupid enough to love you?” “I’m not Anna. I’m not that pathetic.” The disgust on my face must have been plain, because he flinched. “Daisy, don’t say things you don’t mean,” he pleaded, his eyes full of feigned hurt. “Hah.” I smirked, my eyes full of scorn. Suddenly, I kicked his shin. As he doubled over in pain, I shoved him aside, unlocked my door, and slipped inside. “If you harass me again, I’m calling the police!” I yelled, slamming the door shut. The second I sat down, a message from Chloe came through. I opened the file she sent—a video of the wedding disaster—and forwarded it to the general HR email address at Nathan’s company. If we were going to be humiliated, we might as well all go down together.

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One week before our wedding, my fiancée, Chloe, told me she had to marry her first love before she could marry me. Her reasoning? His mother had passed away, and her dying wish was to see them wed. “Ray’s mother always wanted him to settle down. I’m just fulfilling an old woman’s last request. Don’t overthink it,” she said, her voice calm, as if discussing the weather. “But Chloe,” I countered, “the company is launching the ‘True Love’ jewelry collection on the day of our wedding. It’s the event of the decade.” She looked at me with impatience. “It’s just a few billion dollars. Can money compare to Ray’s filial piety? If you care so much about that money, go find someone else to marry.” Her cold words were the final straw. I understood everything clearly now. I turned around and dialed my sister-in-law. “Hey, sis. Help me find a new bride.” When I got back to the family estate, my sister-in-law, Sarah, looked at me like I had grown a second head. “You’re calling off the wedding?” “No,” I said, a bitter smile forming on my lips. “She’s marrying someone else.” I had fought tooth and nail within my family to be with Chloe. I battled my parents’ disapproval and strategically planned the launch of the ‘True Love’ collection to coincide with our wedding day to prove my devotion. Now, it was all for nothing. Sarah was silent for a long time. “Well… the only option left is Stella. Her family is pushing her to marry, and she’s been looking for a partner recently.” I frowned. Stella Vance. My sworn enemy since kindergarten. On the day of my engagement to Chloe, she had cursed my marriage, predicting it would end in flames. I didn’t expect her to be a prophet. Time was tight. I sighed. “Fine. It’s her. Ask her if she’s interested. If not, I’ll figure something else out.” Sarah didn’t hesitate. “No need to ask. She’ll agree.” “What?” Before I could question her further, a crowd surrounded my car. “You must be Chloe’s fiancé! So handsome!” “You’re here to pick her up, right? She’ll be down in a minute. You two are so sweet.” I gripped the steering wheel, looking down to hide the mockery in my eyes. Chloe had introduced me to her colleagues early on. To everyone else, we were the model couple. No one could have guessed she was about to marry another man. After saying goodbye to her colleagues, Chloe got into the car and handed me a model airplane. “Ray asked me to give this to you. You embarrassed him at the funeral yesterday, so you should apologize to him when you get a chance.” The model was a cheap plastic miniature, obviously a free gift with purchase. I had seen it in her online shopping cart a few days ago. “I don’t want it,” I said flatly. Chloe frowned. “What are you throwing a tantrum for now? You stormed into the funeral claiming I wasn’t his fiancée and humiliated him. He didn’t even hold a grudge and got you a gift, and this is how you react?” The woman who used to protect me was gone. Now, she cherished someone else. Chloe rolled down the window, annoyed. After a long silence, seeing I wasn’t going to comfort her, she sighed. “Fine. Today is the dress fitting. I won’t hold it against you.” It was the first time all year she had softened her tone. At the bridal shop, the manager greeted us enthusiastically. “Miss Lawson, the one hundred and twenty custom gowns Mr. Sterling ordered are ready for you.” But Chloe wasn’t looking at the dresses. She was staring at her phone, anxiety etched on her face. Noticing my gaze, she quickly put the phone away, a hint of apology in her eyes. “Liam, something came up with Ray. I have to go. Pick a dress for me, okay? I trust your taste.” Without waiting for an answer, she flagged down a taxi and left me standing there alone. The manager approached cautiously. “Mr. Sterling… will you be selecting the dress yourself?” I looked away from the door and nodded. Of course, I would select a dress. Just not for Chloe. The bride had changed. I went home, expecting Chloe to stay out all night. Surprisingly, she returned before dinner. She strode over to me, holding a takeout container. “I drove across town to get this for you. Harry’s Dumplings, your favorite.” I opened the box. Shrimp dumplings. There were three missing. One had a bite taken out of it. Half an hour ago, I had seen Ray’s Instagram story. The photo was of the exact same dumplings. Caption: “Wifey bought me late-night snacks. Love you, baby!” I put down my chopsticks, my appetite gone. “I don’t want it. Throw it away.” Chloe glared at me, displeasure radiating off her, but she held back. She sat down next to me, sighing. “You don’t know how pitiful Ray was today. My parents went to his place demanding a dowry. He cried.” “Ray just got back to the country; he doesn’t have any money. I’m thinking of using my dowry to cover for him.” She shook my arm, her voice taking on a wheedling tone. I looked at her, a scoff escaping my lips. “So, I have to pay the dowry for your husband?” In the past, I cared about Chloe. Whatever she asked for, I gave. Whatever she needed, I did. But she had personally woken me up from that dream. Since Ray returned, everything she did revolved around him. She had forgotten that I was the one supposed to spend the rest of my life with her. My response infuriated her. “What do you mean? You won’t do it? You better realize, Ray is my best friend. You need to make him happy, or I won’t marry you!” With that, she slammed the door and left. Feeling suffocated, I went downstairs for a run in the park. One lap in, my phone rang. It was Stella. Thinking of Stella’s perpetual poker face, I hesitated for two seconds before answering. “Once you’re on my ship, you’re mine. Try to jump, and I’ll break your legs!” Stella started with a threat. Classic. I stayed silent. She continued. “Send me your ID. We’re getting the license.” “I’m afraid you’ll back out.” Stella, you’re weird. I imagined ten thousand scenarios where she used this marriage to torture me. Finally, I squeezed out a sentence: “See you at the wedding, Miss Vance.” As soon as I hung up, Chloe appeared behind me like a ghost. “You’re inviting Stella to our wedding? I forbid it!” She stared at me as if facing a mortal enemy. “Liam, haven’t I told you not to associate with Stella? Her intentions aren’t pure. If you invite her, don’t blame me for causing a scene!” I hadn’t even said a word, and she was already threatening me. Chloe had always disliked Stella. It was an inexplicable hostility. When we first started dating, she threw a fit because Stella and I bantered on WeChat. I eventually cut ties with Stella to appease her. And now she says… Stella’s intentions aren’t pure? I was about to ask what she meant when Ray suddenly leaned his head onto Chloe’s shoulder. “Chloe, you’re hurting me…” Only then did I notice their fingers were intertwined. Chloe coughed awkwardly but didn’t let go of his hand. Ray looked at Chloe with tender eyes, then turned to me with a feigned helpless apology. “Liam, I’m sorry. Chloe and I are just rehearsing the wedding flow. Please don’t mind.” “I won’t tell anyone you hired thugs to beat me up or that you vandalized my mother’s grave. But please, don’t hurt Chloe. True love is fragile.” I didn’t want to watch his green tea performance. I turned to leave. “Since you’re so eager, I’ll have someone beat you up tonight and dig up your mom’s grave for real.” Slap! Chloe hit me hard across the face. “Liam, how can you be so vicious?!” Her face was dark with rage, her chest heaving. Me? Vicious? She believed a stranger’s slander instantly, yet five years of our relationship couldn’t buy me an ounce of trust. A sudden fire ignited in my chest. I wanted to scream at her, but Ray stepped in front of her. “Liam, please. Once the wedding is over, I’ll return Chloe to you.” “Just show some mercy. Don’t hurt the people around me, and don’t hurt Chloe.” He looked like he was about to kneel. Chloe hurriedly grabbed his waist to stop him, glaring at me with hatred. “Liam Sterling, stop playing your rich boy bully games!” “You know I hate that. If you still want to marry me, stop this nonsense!” She warned me not to appear in front of them again before the wedding. Surprisingly, the next day, Chloe contacted me first. She opened with a barrage of curses. “Liam, you actually dug up Mrs. Ray’s grave? I didn’t know you were this kind of person!” Confused, I called my assistant to investigate. What he found was shocking. Ray’s mother… wasn’t dead. No wonder Ray was insane enough to dig up his own mother’s grave to frame me. Her death was a scam. I sent Chloe a text: “Ray’s mother isn’t dead. The truth is in the email I just sent you.” Whether she read it or not was none of my business. The flight was booked for three days later. Stella booked it herself. When Chloe came back, she saw me packing. Half my clothes were in the trash; the rest were packed for shipping to the South City. “Why are you packing?” she asked, suspicious. “Moving,” I replied curtly. She paused, not catching the subtext. “Right. Sterling HQ is in South City. We’re moving there after the wedding. It makes sense to pack early.” Then, she fixed me with a fierce glare. “Apologize for the grave incident ASAP. Don’t make this hard for me. Do it on the wedding day. Agreed?” She tossed her phone aside and started rummaging for her ID. Today was the day she was registering her marriage to Ray. She didn’t come back that night. I checked my phone. A message from Ray popped up. It was a photo in dim lighting. Chloe, wearing a maid outfit, looking at the camera. I closed my eyes, my heart stinging. I suppressed the emotion and turned off the screen. Late at night, my phone buzzed every hour. Each vibration was another provocative video from Ray of him and Chloe. Until the next morning, when Stella sent me a message. “Mr. Sterling, the flowers are blooming. You may return slowly.” Attached was a photo of two red marriage certificates. And a pot of vibrant red peonies. I didn’t expect her to still be keeping the flower I casually gave her years ago. A strange feeling rose in my chest. I replied with one word: “Okay.” I put down the phone and organized my work files. I didn’t know when Chloe had returned. She was packing a suitcase. “I’m going to stay with Ray for a few days. He can’t handle the wedding prep alone. Remember to show up on time for the wedding. Don’t be late.” She rambled on with explanations, basically saying she was just “helping out” and warning me not to cause trouble. “Yeah, I won’t go,” I said, looking down. After last night, the last shred of my affection for her had vanished. Chloe looked at my calm demeanor, and a nameless panic washed over her. She hesitated. But remembering Ray’s clingy pleading, she relaxed her grip on her phone. Liam loved her so much. What could go wrong? Relieved, she stopped pestering me and left my sight. I watched her leave and made a call. That evening, a helicopter landed on the plaza. A man approached. “Mr. Sterling, your helicopter has arrived. We will have you in South City in thirty minutes.” I nodded and handed him a document envelope. “Deliver this to the wedding venue tomorrow. It’s my wedding gift to the bride and groom.” The next day, I sent Chloe a text right on time: “Happy Wedding!” At the venue, Chloe was looking around anxiously, asking her secretary, “Why hasn’t Liam arrived? He promised to apologize to Ray’s mother publicly today.” The secretary was scrolling through the news, frowning. “I don’t think he’s coming. He’s… busy getting married.”

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Everyone knew Gabe was a “wife guy” during the ten years we were together. Back in high school and college, while I buried my head in textbooks, he wrote me a love letter every single week. Rain or shine, he delivered 365 letters before I finally agreed to be his girlfriend. That day, he hugged me and kissed me over and over again. “Sarah, I swear, in this life and the next… actually, in every life, I will only love you. I will give you the best things this world has to offer.” After graduation, he started his own tech company. For three years, he slept four hours a night and drank himself into stomach ulcers at business dinners. In the fourth year, he made it. He became a tech mogul, a multimillionaire, the new king of Silicon Valley. Everyone said our hard work had paid off. Gabe held me tight, trembling with excitement. “Finally! I can keep my promise. I can give you everything.” I cried, shaking my head. “Your love is already the best thing in the world.” That night, we made love everywhere—from the kitchen to the bathroom to the bedroom. I thought we would be happy forever. But two months ago, I saw him pin my half-sister, Zoe, against his desk and kiss her passionately. Zoe’s eyes were glazed over. “Do I taste like your fiancée?” “No,” Gabe growled, his voice husky. “You’re younger. More exciting. You taste better.” He kissed her again, harder this time. I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry. I just quietly started preparing for my grad school exams abroad. When Gabe searched the entire city and couldn’t find me, that’s when he finally panicked. 1 “Just wait ten more minutes, okay?” I tugged at the hem of his shirt, tears already streaming down my face. My birthday was tomorrow. It was ten minutes to midnight. He had promised to always be the first person to wish me a happy birthday. “Be good, babe. There’s an emergency at the office. I’ll be back as soon as I handle it. Wait for me!” Usually, if I shed a single tear, he would drop everything to comfort me. But tonight, he didn’t even seem to see it. He pulled his shirt from my grip, put on his shoes, and asked for the car keys. He acted like the sky was falling. At 5:00 AM, the candles had burned out, the cake had melted, and Gabe still wasn’t home. I opened my phone and clicked on my chat with Zoe. Her tone was smug. “Sis, if I remember correctly, today is your birthday, right?” She added a giggling emoji. “What a coincidence. Today is my and Gabe’s two-month-minus-two-days anniversary. Guess who he chose?” Two-month-minus-two-days anniversary. I let out a bitter laugh. When I saw the message, I knew. Gabe wasn’t stupid. He knew Zoe was making up a ridiculous occasion just to hurt me. But he agreed to it anyway. Tears fell like broken beads. Ding! A photo arrived. Under a sky full of fireworks, Gabe had her pinned against a railing, kissing her. It was a beautiful, romantic scene. “Sigh, my brother-in-law is so romantic. He prepared all this for me.” I felt like a clown. While I was excitedly waiting for him to celebrate my birthday, he was planning his escape to romance another woman. I zoomed in on the photo. Around Zoe’s neck hung the “Heart of Africa” ruby necklace, worth $30 million. Rumor had it Gabe hired a top designer to customize it. He said it was for the most important woman in his life. I was such a fool. I thought he bought it to surprise me. My heart felt like it was being eaten by insects. The pain was excruciating. I clutched my chest, unable to stand straight. Good. Let it hurt. Remember this pain and humiliation. Don’t be soft-hearted anymore. Cut out the rot so the rest of you can survive. Gabe, I’m leaving you. I stood up, went back to my room, and lay in bed, calculating my exit. 2 Not long after I lay down, Gabe came home. Seeing my red, swollen eyes, he apologized sincerely. “I’m sorry, wifey. I missed your birthday. I promise I’ll spend it with you next year.” I opened my eyes and met his guilty gaze. “Gabe, there is no next year for us.” Panic flashed in his eyes, but he quickly covered it with a smile, tapping my nose. “Don’t talk nonsense. We promised to be together for every lifetime. How could there not be a next year?” He leaned down to kiss me. I pushed him away and ran to the bathroom to vomit. He smelled like gardenias. That wasn’t my perfume. His lips had just kissed another woman. It was disgusting. “Babe, are you pregnant? We aren’t ready for kids yet,” he said seriously, patting my back gently. I had been pregnant three times before. Each time, he said the timing wasn’t right, that I should wait until he was successful so he could give our child the best life. Why it wasn’t suitable now, I didn’t know, and I didn’t care. We would never have children. I cleaned myself up and walked out. I saw a slice of raspberry cake on the table. Gabe looked proud. “I know you love sweets, so I picked this up on the way home.” I forced a smile. Bought at 5 AM? He couldn’t even be bothered to lie properly. Or maybe he just thought I was stupid. This cake was clearly leftover from his “anniversary” with Zoe. He brought it home like a doggie bag for me. He chased me for seven years. We’ve been together for three. He knew better than anyone that I was allergic to raspberries. This just proved he didn’t love me anymore. His heart wasn’t here. I sat down, picked up the fork, and took a bite of the sweet cake. I smiled and asked, “Did you forget to give me the Heart of Africa? I’ve been looking forward to it.” He froze. His Adam’s apple bobbed nervously. He must be wondering how I knew. Finally, he laughed dryly. “Red is too old-fashioned for you. I bought that for my mom.” “If you like gems, I’ll buy you something more expensive and beautiful, okay?” My skin started to itch. I looked at him. “No need.” I didn’t need anyone’s charity. He suddenly panicked. He grabbed the cake from my hand and threw it on the floor. “Sarah, you’re allergic! We need to go to the hospital.” I didn’t move. He dropped to his knees and started slapping himself in the face. “I’m sorry, baby. I made you suffer. I’ve been so busy with work, my brain isn’t working right. I forgot about your allergy.” “Hit me, scold me, but don’t joke with your health. It hurts me.” “I really know I was wrong!” Before I could speak, his phone rang. He glanced at the screen, stood up, and said, “Sarah, go to the hospital yourself. I have something to do at the company.” Watching his back as he left, I felt dazed. When did the boy who loved me so purely become such a good actor? One second loving me like his life depended on it, the next discarding me like trash. 3 To make it up to me, Gabe took me to a high-end restaurant. “There’s a new movie out. Let’s go see it if you have time,” I said. He didn’t look up from his phone. “Mmhmm.” I smiled and tried another topic. “Someone from my graduating class just got their PhD and became a professor. Pretty amazing.” “Mmhmm.” His indifference extinguished all my enthusiasm. “Let’s break up,” I said. “Mmhmm.” He paused, putting down his phone. “What did you say?” I sighed and smiled. “I said, go help me get some sauce.” He relaxed and picked up his phone again. “You scared me. Go get it yourself, I’m busy.” His impatience finally angered me. I raised my voice. “Did you not hear what I said?” I worked all day too. I was tired of coddling him. Gabe’s face went cold. He was angry now. “Sarah, stop being unreasonable. Every time we eat, you talk about celebrity gossip or obscure math theories.” “It’s boring as hell. I don’t understand it, and I don’t care. It’s exhausting pretending to listen. Can you be a little more understanding?” His complaints left me speechless. Love and indifference are always clear. I pursed my lips and went to the sauce station. When I came back, I saw Zoe. She was squeezed in next to Gabe, hugging his arm, practically sitting in his lap. Seeing my gaze land on their touching bodies, Zoe smiled brightly. “Hello, Mrs. Gabe. I’m Zoe, Gabe’s personal secretary.” She emphasized the word “personal.” She had zero boundaries. I looked down at Gabe. He looked away guiltily. “Zoe just came back from studying abroad. She’s a bit more… open and free. Don’t overthink it.” I looked down, sipped my coffee, and said nothing. Zoe leaned in and kissed Gabe on the cheek. “That’s right. Abroad, even if we sleep together, it doesn’t mean anything. Just sex, no feelings.” Gabe sensed the hidden meaning in her words and quickly stood up. “I’ll go get sauce.” “Bring me some too! You know what I like!” Zoe laughed innocently. But the moment Gabe left, her smile turned cold. She touched the ruby necklace at her throat. “Stolen things really do taste better. Dad was like that, and so is your husband. Sarah, I’m going to steal Gabe from you.” Even though my nails were digging into my palms, I kept my face calm. “If it can be stolen, it wasn’t worth much anyway.” She sneered. “Self-comfort of the weak. Let’s see if you’re really as calm and unbothered as you pretend.” With that, she ripped the necklace off and threw it on the floor. Then she picked up my coffee and splashed it on her own face. Finally, she slapped herself twice, hard. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Gabe running back. She covered her red face and started sobbing. Gabe’s slap landed on my face without hesitation. “Sarah, where is your grace? Where is your kindness?” “It’s my fault. I spoiled you until you became arrogant and lawless. Today is a lesson. Learn what to control and when to turn a blind eye. You live in my house, eat my food, spend my money. Things are different now. You need to learn to compromise.” He was warning me. Even if he cheated, I had to endure it. He was convinced I couldn’t leave him. “Gabe, it hurts. I think I’m burned. Will it scar?” Zoe whimpered. Gabe withdrew his cold glare and tenderly checked Zoe’s face, then scooped her up in his arms. Watching his back, my heart filled with endless bitterness. My boy was just like my father. He had a new love. I was alone again. I stood up and walked aimlessly through the streets, my heart full of misery. 4 The next morning, I woke up to something cool on my face. I opened my eyes to see Gabe’s apologetic face. “I’m sorry, Sarah. Yesterday, anger went to my head. I didn’t consider your feelings. I didn’t give you enough security.” I glanced at the ointment in his hand, turned over, and ignored him. He pressed against my back, hugging my waist. “Wifey, let’s get married.” My tears fell instantly. I waited four years for those words. Now that they were here, I only felt bitterness. I hummed a response, slipped out of his arms, and walked away. I couldn’t stand the overpowering perfume on him or the red hickey on his neck for another second. Gabe, you’re dirty. I don’t want your marriage anymore. That afternoon at the market, I ran into a group of energetic college students. “Girls aren’t necessarily worse at science than boys. Wasn’t that math genius a few years back a girl?” “Yeah, too bad she was love-struck. Imagine what she could have achieved if she stayed in mathematics.” “Nothing to pity. Just different choices. Her husband is really successful now.” I clenched my fists and walked faster, afraid they would realize I was that love-struck fool. The year I graduated, I accepted Gabe’s proposal. For him, I scrapped my grad school plans. I worked as his data analyst and programmer for free. I did the work of three people. My mentor was furious. She said I would regret it. But I was young and reckless. I only wanted to help Gabe build his empire. Life was hard then, but we didn’t have these petty dramas. Gabe truly loved me back then. Later, when his business took off, he wanted me to quit and be a housewife. He said it was for my health, that women shouldn’t work so hard. In reality, he wanted to turn me into a dodder flower that could only live by clinging to him. Looking at the vegetables in front of me, I felt a wave of nausea. I didn’t want this life anymore. I left the market and went to the library. Seeing the familiar formulas, the complex theories… I couldn’t help myself. It felt so good to dive back into my passion. I devoured books like a starving person. The idea of going back to school took root in my heart. When the librarian told me they were closing, I walked out feeling satisfied for the first time in months. But before my smile could fade, I was hit by a familiar car. Just before I passed out, I saw the woman in the driver’s seat smirking. When I woke up, my mind was foggy. Gabe was hugging me. He stroked my face like I was a precious treasure. “You’re finally awake. Do you know how scared I was seeing you covered in blood in the ICU? We promised to be together forever. Without you, I would die.” My heart was still. Only my cheek felt wet. I looked up. Gabe was crying. How much of it was real? How much was fake? I asked flatly, “Gabe, did they catch the person who ran the red light?” He paused. “That doesn’t matter. You’re safe now.” I smiled bitterly and pushed him away. “Give me my phone. I’m calling the police. I remember the car and the plate. The driver can’t escape.” His loving expression vanished, replaced by coldness. “It was me. I didn’t see you clearly. It was dark, and you were looking at your phone. Are you going to sue me?” I pursed my lips and shook my head. “Forget it.” He pushed his luck. “Next time, don’t stay out so late. You worried me.” I suppressed my grief and looked at him coldly. “Liar. Gabe, I saw her. It was Zoe. She hit me on purpose. I know you gave her that car. She stole my dad when we were kids, and now she’s stealing you.” Gabe didn’t look shocked. He knew she was my half-sister. My father’s betrayal was a scar on my heart. Gabe knew that better than anyone because he spent seven years healing it. Now, he was ripping it open again. Gabe frantically wiped my tears. “For my sake, let her go this time. She didn’t mean it. It was too dark.” “If you mind us being close, I can transfer her to another department. Sarah, believe me, I only love you. I promoted her because she’s capable.” “Okay. I believe you.” I looked away, picked up my phone, and started researching grad school applications.

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The Outpost had fallen. Our only path to survival hinged on one thing: a decoy team to draw the horde away. My girlfriend, Sarah, and I each led a squad. The Governor settled the matter of which of our teams would live and which would die with a kill competition. The winner evacuates. The loser dies. In my past life, I didn’t hesitate. I chose to lose, ready to sacrifice myself, my sister, and my entire squad to give Sarah a future. But when the horde pinned us down, when I screamed for her covering fire, support isn’t what we got. What we got was the heavy machine gun she personally swiveled in our direction, firing from behind. Through the muzzle flashes, I watched my sister and every soldier who trusted me get torn to shreds by our own side. All the while, Sarah fell into the arms of the Governor’s son, Liam, a triumphant smile on her face. She walked over our corpses to be crowned a hero. I was ripped apart and turned. A shred of my consciousness remained as I wandered the wasteland, until they finally put a bullet in my head. I opened my eyes. I was back. Reborn on the morning the competition was set to begin. Just as I expected, Sarah was already there, putting on a show, trying to convince me to die for her. But this time, I still agreed without a moment’s hesitation. “Alright.” 1 “He’s finally dead. Now no one can challenge me for the captaincy.” “Sarah, you poor thing, having to put up with him for so long.” “But it’s over now. We can finally be together.” The voices of Sarah and Liam echoed in my mind. My eyes snapped open. The cold touch of the metal wall brought me back. I was reborn. Images from my past life exploded in my head. I saw my sister, Mia, leading my squad, charging toward the horde to save me. They were fighting their way back, screaming my name. “Cole!” “Captain! We’re coming for you!” Then, Liam gave the order to fire. The heavy machine gun roared. Their bodies disintegrated in a storm of lead and fire. Later, after the horde had torn me apart and I’d become one of them, my last flicker of consciousness saw the woman who once promised to have my children, passionately kissing Liam amidst a celebrating crowd. “…Captains, please come to the platform.” The Governor’s icy voice dragged me from my memories. From his perch on the high wall, he motioned for Sarah and me to stand beside him, then addressed everyone in the Outpost. “As you all know, Captain Cole and Captain Sarah are the leaders of our two finest scavenger teams.” “They have made immense contributions to our survival, and we all owe them a debt of gratitude.” “But now, the Outpost faces a crisis like never before. A mega-horde is coming. We must evacuate.” “For the majority to survive, one team must make the ultimate sacrifice. They must become the bait.” He paused, his gaze sweeping over us, finally landing on me. “The rules are simple. Starting now, you have twenty-four hours. The two captains will lead their teams out to kill the infected. After one day, we will tally the numbers. The highest count wins.” “The winner will receive priority evacuation and ample supplies. The loser… will serve the Outpost one last time.” A dead silence fell over the crowd. Serve the Outpost. A pretty way of saying ‘go get eaten.’ In my last life, I loved Sarah more than myself. I handed her the chance to live. I deliberately led my team away from dense zombie zones, even passed up easy kills just so she could win. And what did I get for it? As the meeting dismissed, Sarah immediately cut me off. Her face was pale, but her eyes held the steady calm she always projected as a captain. “Cole, we need to talk.” I turned, watching her performance with a quiet, cold detachment. “This rule isn’t fair, and you know it,” she said, looking me straight in the eye. “Your skill, your team… you’re light-years ahead of me. This isn’t a competition; it’s a death sentence for me and my squad.” She took a deep breath, her tone softening, becoming a plea. “I’m not afraid to die. I just don’t think it should be like this. We’ve both sacrificed so much for this place. Just because I’m not as strong as you, I have to lead my people to their deaths?” When I didn’t respond, she bit her lip, her voice dropping to a desperate whisper, as if it took all her strength. “And… I’m pregnant.” Pregnant? I almost laughed. I could still vividly remember the early days of the outbreak. We were hiding in an abandoned supermarket, and she was curled in my arms, whispering that one day she’d give me enough kids to field a basketball team. Thinking back on that moment of happiness now felt like the cruelest joke in the world. Liam stepped forward, his face a mask of solemn agreement. “Captain, we all know you’re the best. For the Outpost, for the future of a new life… only you can carry out this noble task.” I watched their little duet, my heart frozen solid. Behind me, the eyes of my squad were just as cold. Mia stepped forward. “Sarah, you can’t be so selfish! My brother has given everything for this place! Why should he be the one to die?” Sarah flinched, her eyes instantly welling up with tears, as if she’d been deeply wounded. I raised a hand to stop Mia. My gaze fell on Sarah’s deceitful face, and a slow smile spread across my own. As they stared at me in stunned silence, I gave a small nod. “Alright.” I looked at her, then at Mia and my team behind me. I added, enunciating every word, “This time, we go.” “And we don’t need a single bullet of support.” 2 My words hung in the air. Mia and my squad stared at me, dumbfounded. Sarah and Liam exchanged a look, their relief and joy almost impossible to hide. “Cole, you…” Sarah started, pretending she wanted to protest, but I cut her off with a raised hand. “There’s nothing more to say.” I turned to my squad and gave the order. “Gear up. We’re moving out.” “Sir!” Though their minds were reeling with questions, not one of my soldiers voiced an objection. They immediately turned to prep their equipment. These were the soldiers I had trained. Mia came to my side, tugging on my sleeve. “Cole,” she whispered, “I trust you.” I ruffled her hair but said nothing. At the Outpost gate, the contrast between our two teams was stark. Sarah’s squad was in high spirits, their members laughing and joking as if they were headed for a picnic, not a suicide mission. Liam had even diverted a shipment of brand-new weapons and ammunition to them. My team, on the other hand, silently checked their worn gear, their faces grim. On the electronic screen above the gate, two large zeros were displayed side-by-side, our starting kill counts. “Move out!” At the Governor’s command, our teams charged out of the Outpost in opposite directions. Less than a mile out, we ran into a small pack of roamers, maybe a dozen of them. “Captain?” my second-in-command, Marcus, looked to me for orders. Normally, we’d have wiped them out in under thirty seconds. Instead, I held up a hand and gave my first command. “Hold your position and fire. Do not advance.” Marcus stared at me. Firing from a distance meant lower accuracy and a massive waste of ammo. It was the least efficient way to fight. “Captain, that’s a waste of bullets!” he couldn’t help but point out. “Follow the order,” my voice was flat, emotionless. Marcus gritted his teeth, but finally bellowed, “Open fire!” Gunfire erupted. Bullets sprayed wildly, and it took a full two minutes to put down just over a dozen infected. At the same time, Sarah’s triumphant voice crackled over the public comms channel. “Command, this is Sarah! My team has engaged a horde in the east sector, over fifty hostiles! Estimated time to neutralization, three minutes!” Her voice dripped with self-satisfaction. Soon, on the screen back at the Outpost, the number next to her team’s name began to climb rapidly, jumping from 0 to 53. Ours was a pathetic 12. Inside the Outpost, the watching crowd erupted in mockery. “All that hype about the First Squad being the best. When it comes down to it, this is all they’ve got?” “Yeah, took them forever to kill a handful of walkers. Hell, our gate guards are more efficient!” “I think he’s lost his nerve. All those past victories were probably just bullshit!” Bits and pieces of their ridicule filtered through my earpiece. My face remained impassive. “Sweep the area,” I ordered. “Collect all shell casings and do a count of ammo expended.” Another bizarre command that wasted five precious minutes. Marcus’s face grew darker, but he followed my order without question. Mia said nothing, just silently reloaded my magazines for me. For the next few hours, we proceeded at this “turtle’s pace.” When we encountered small groups, we dispatched them in the most ammo-inefficient way possible. When we spotted a large horde, I ordered a full retreat, circling around them. Our kill count crawled upwards at a humiliatingly slow pace. Sarah’s team, meanwhile, was on a rampage. Reports of her victories came in one after another. Liam would periodically get on the public channel, his voice dripping with false concern. “Captain Cole, how are things on your end? Need any support? Captain Sarah is already closing in on three hundred.” Every one of his calls was a public shaming. Everyone on the channel could hear it. My soldiers were simmering with rage, their faces flushed, but they remained silent, bound by my orders. The sentiment back at the Outpost turned venomous. “Thank God for Captain Sarah. If we had to rely on him, we’d all be dead!” “I can’t believe we ever thought he was a hero. He’s a coward!” “Just send him out to die already. Stop wasting our food!” As evening fell, we took shelter in an abandoned building to rest. The score on the screen was a glaring 78 to 412. We were utterly defeated. Marcus couldn’t hold it in any longer. He walked up to me. “Captain, I just have one question. Why?” I didn’t look at him, just continued to polish my combat knife. “All you need to know is that if you follow me, you will live.” Marcus stared at me, his expression a mix of confusion and frustration. Finally, he gave a sharp nod and walked away. I looked up, my eyes fixed on the distant silhouette of the Outpost. The main event was about to begin. 3 The twenty-four hours were up. We returned to the Outpost. On the giant electronic screen, the final score was frozen. 89 to 521. A chasm of a difference that declared our utter failure. As we stepped into the central plaza, Sarah’s team came to meet us, every one of them wearing the proud smirk of a victor. The residents of the Outpost swarmed around them, cheering and hoisting them up as heroes. “Captain Sarah is our savior!” “We’re saved!” When they looked at us, their eyes were filled with contempt and relief. The Governor stepped onto the high platform. He cleared his throat, and the plaza fell silent. “The results of the competition are in,” he announced. “The winner is the Second Scavenger Team, led by Captain Sarah!” A thunderous applause erupted. The Governor raised a hand for silence, his gaze shifting to us, his expression one of fake sympathy. “As per the rules, Captain Cole and the First Scavenger Team will carry out the final decoy mission for us.” “They are brave. They are honorable. Let us give our heroes a proper send-off!” A smattering of applause followed, sounding more like mockery than respect. My soldiers’ fists were clenched so tight their knuckles were white. Mia’s eyes were glistening with tears, but she refused to let them fall. They weren’t afraid to die. They were enraged that the honor of the First Squad was being trampled into the dirt. Just then, Liam, with his arm around Sarah, stepped onto the platform and took the microphone. He smiled. “To show our gratitude for Captain Cole’s sacrifice, I propose we play a little game to send our heroes off in style. What do you say?” The crowd murmured in confusion. Liam’s smile widened. “Let’s place some bets. Let’s bet on how long our heroes can last against the horde!” The suggestion was met with a moment of stunned silence, followed by an explosion of morbid excitement. “Now that’s interesting! I bet they don’t last ten minutes!” a man shouted, pulling out a pack of ration biscuits as his wager. “Ten minutes? You’re giving them too much credit!” another man jeered. “I bet five minutes! Not a single one of them makes it out alive! I’ll put up a can of beef!” “I bet thirty seconds!” yelled another man, patting his canteen. “My half-canteen of water says they’re all dead in thirty!” “Hahaha!” The crowd went insane. They pulled out their most prized possessions—food, water, even ammunition—and eagerly placed their bets at a makeshift table Liam had set up. The scene wasn’t a somber farewell for a team marching to their death. It was a carnival, a festival celebrating our demise. Sarah leaned against Liam, a victor’s smile playing on her lips as she watched it all unfold. She even took the microphone, her voice sweet. “To thank everyone for participating, Liam and I have decided to offer ten vials of antibiotics as the grand prize for whoever guesses the closest!” The crowd’s frenzy hit its peak. In this world, antibiotics were a second life. I watched it all with cold eyes. These people, whom we had risked our lives to protect, were now gambling on the exact minute of our deaths. This was the home I had fought for. These were the people I had died for. “Cole…” Mia’s voice trembled. I turned to my squad. Their eyes held no fear, only the burning rage of betrayal. I took a deep breath. My voice wasn’t loud, but it carried to every one of them. “First Squad, fall in.” Instantly, every soldier snapped to attention, their posture ramrod straight, as if they were marching to a glorious battle, not their execution. I didn’t spare another glance at the couple on the stage, nor at the ugly, leering faces in the crowd. I turned to face the giant blast doors of the Outpost. “Move out.” 4 After we left, the party in the Outpost plaza truly began. Liam had all the wagered goods piled on the platform, creating a small mountain of supplies. “Everyone!” he shouted, raising a glass. “A toast! To getting rid of the dead weight, and to the new life ahead of us!” “To Captain Sarah! To Liam!” The crowd roared, eagerly dividing the spoils of their death pool, spoils paid for with our blood and sweat. Sarah melted into Liam’s arms, basking in the adoration. She was the queen here. She watched the Outpost’s blast doors grind shut, a small, triumphant smile on her face. “Don’t blame me, Cole,” she whispered to the empty air. “You were just in the way.” An hour later, they led the main convoy, a long procession moving toward the designated “safe evacuation point.” It was a valley surrounded by mountains on three sides with a single, easily defensible entrance—a sanctuary the Governor had chosen long ago. When the convoy arrived, a collective sigh of relief went through the crowd. They built bonfires, roasted meat, and acted as if the apocalypse was already over. Liam and Sarah stood on a high ridge overlooking the valley, like a king and queen surveying their domain. Suddenly, a massive explosion ripped through the night from the direction we had gone. The blast was so powerful it painted half the sky red. Everyone fell silent for a moment, then erupted into even louder cheers. “They’ve met the horde!” “It worked! Captain Cole finally made himself useful!” Liam’s grin widened. He pulled Sarah closer. “It’s over, Sarah. From now on, I’ll protect you.” Sarah closed her eyes, content. Just then, the satellite phone in Liam’s pocket buzzed with an urgent incoming video call. Annoyed, he answered, assuming it was his father with new instructions. The screen lit up, and a face he never expected to see again appeared. “Liam, my friend. Good evening.” Liam’s pupils shrank to pinpricks. The color drained from his face. The man on the screen was me. I was perfectly fine. Not a single rip or smudge on my clothes. And behind me, an endless, surging ocean of the dead. “You… you’re alive?!” Liam stammered. I looked at his terrified face and my smile grew wider. “Surprised? Oh, this is just the opening act.”

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On my very first day at Crestwood Academy, I committed the ultimate social sin: I wore the exact same vintage dress as Chloe, the school’s reigning “It Girl.” Jax, the school’s resident bad boy and captain of everything, cornered me immediately. “You manipulative little try-hard,” he sneered, his voice dripping with venom. “You’re ugly as hell and you think you can just clone her style?” He deliberately tipped his carton of chocolate milk over my head. While muttering a sarcastic “oops,” he reached out and aggressively brushed my thick bangs off my forehead, exposing my face to the crowded cafeteria. He paused, noticing my mismatched pupils. A cold, mocking laugh escaped his lips. “Wow. Wearing colored contacts on day one? Who are you trying to seduce, freak?” I kept my head down, staring at my converse sneakers, and whispered, “It’s not a contact lens. It’s a prosthetic.” Jax froze. 1 “What?” Jax looked like his brain had just short-circuited. He frowned, his expression shifting from malice to something weirdly unsettled. “What did you just say? If it’s not a contact, what is it?” I sighed. This was always the worst part of transferring. Calmly, I pushed Jax’s hand away. I slicked my milk-soaked hair back, used a napkin to wipe the sticky mess off my face, and revealed my pale, emotionless expression. I looked Jax dead in the eye. “Watch.” Jax narrowed his eyes, confused. In the next second, with practiced ease, I reached up, pried my eyelids apart, and right there in front of the entire junior class, I popped the prosthetic out. I held the golden-hazel glass eye in my palm, thrusting it toward Jax’s pale face. I repeated myself, my voice flat. “This isn’t a contact lens. It’s my glass eye.” “Is that clear enough for you?” The chaotic cafeteria instantly went dead silent. You could hear a pin drop. Jax stared at my empty left socket for a long time, stumbling back two steps in disbelief. “How… how is that possible?” He looked dazed, his hand instinctively reaching out to touch my face, but I swatted it away. I lowered my head, quickly slipped the eye back into the socket, and adjusted it until it sat right. I knew I looked like a wreck—milk-stained and disheveled. But I’d been through worse. This was nothing. When I looked up again, Jax’s expression was complicated. “I thought you were…” His lips trembled like he wanted to say something else. Just then, the bell rang. I didn’t wait. I walked right past a stiff-as-a-board Jax and went straight to my assigned desk. My hair was dripping wet. I wiped it silently with paper towels, but it didn’t help much. The sticky, gross feeling remained. I ran out of tissues, gave up on my stained shirt, and pulled out my textbook. Jax stood by my desk, motionless. He watched me clean myself up without saying a word, his knuckles white as he gripped the empty milk carton. When I stopped moving, his eyes lingered on my damp hair. After a long moment, Jax kicked the chair of the girl sitting in front of me—Chloe. “Give me your tissues.” Chloe glared at him. “Jax, what is your problem? The teacher is coming, sit down!” “I said, give me the damn tissues!” Jax’s voice boomed. “Are you deaf?” 2 The classroom was already quiet, waiting for the teacher. Jax’s outburst drew every pair of eyes in the room. Startled, Chloe bit her lip, eyes welling up, and dug a travel pack of tissues out of her bag, throwing it at him. “You’re crazy! Why are you yelling at me?” Jax ignored her. He took the tissues and shoved them toward me. I didn’t take them. His hand hovered in mid-air. “Take them. Use them,” Jax said, his face pale, his voice edged with frustration. Slowly, I looked up and locked eyes with him. The moment he saw my golden pupil, he flinched like he’d been stung and jerked his head away, avoiding eye contact. “What are you looking at? Just take it,” he snapped, trying to sound tough. I realized then that after I took my eye out, Jax’s entire vibe had flipped. Seeing him act so awkward gave me a weird idea. “Is this your way of apologizing?” I asked calmly. Jax stiffened. His fingers twitched, betraying his panic. “If taking your tissues means I have to forgive you, then no thanks,” I said, watching his brow furrow. “I have no intention of accepting your apology. So please, take your trash and get away from me.” Jax looked like I’d just slapped him. His face darkened. Seeing that I wouldn’t budge, he shoved the tissues into my desk cubby. I immediately took them out and dropped them on the floor. Jax silently picked them up and tried to hand them back. Just then, the teacher walked in. Chloe, watching this tug-of-war, looked furious. Before the teacher reached the podium, she stood up and yanked Jax toward the back of the room. “She doesn’t want to talk to you! Why are you simping for her?” She dragged him back, purposely hip-checking my desk as she passed. I stared straight ahead, ignoring them both. Halfway through the lecture, a loud crack echoed from the back row. The sound of a hand hitting skin. Jax had slapped himself. Hard. The whole class turned around. Even Chloe kept glancing back at him, bewildered. Every time she looked at him, she’d shoot a glare at me, as if his breakdown was my fault. I ignored them. I pretended they didn’t exist. 3 I barely made it to the break. The sticky milk on my skin was unbearable. I stood up to go to the restroom to wash up, but my foot caught on something—probably a bag strap someone left out. I pitched forward. I threw my hands out, but my elbows still skid across the linoleum, tearing the skin. “Ahh.” I hissed in pain. Blood started seeping through the abrasions on my arm. It looked worse than it was. I was trying to push myself up when someone shoved through the crowd, grabbed me by the waist and knees, and scooped me up into the air. Caught off guard, I instinctively grabbed the person’s shoulders. “You okay?” Jax’s voice was right in my ear. He saw my bleeding arm and frowned deep. “Don’t move. I’m taking you to the nurse.” “I hurt my arm, not my legs,” I said coldly. “Put me down. I can walk.” Jax pretended he didn’t hear me. He gripped me tighter. “I can carry you,” he muttered. “Stop acting tough.” I almost laughed. I opened my mouth to argue, but Jax suddenly stumbled. His foot slipped, and he lost his balance. Gravity took over. “Jax!” I screamed. He tried to cup the back of my head to protect me, but it didn’t work. We hit the ground hard. Because he was holding me, I landed on top of him, but the momentum slammed the back of my head into a locker. Thud. My brain went fuzzy. Before everything went black, I heard Jax yelling in panic: “Chloe! Get over here! Your cousin passed out!” My heart sank. So, Jax knew I was Chloe’s cousin. No wonder he hated me. 4 I woke up at the worst—or best—possible time. “You promised me!” Chloe’s shrill voice cut through the air. “You said you’d teach her a lesson. Why are you backing out now?” I kept my eyes closed. I could hear the rhythmic tapping of fingers on a table. “I said I’d help you mess with her,” Jax said, his voice low and annoyed. “But you didn’t tell me she was disabled, Chloe.” “You want me to bully a girl with a fake eye? What do you think I am? An animal?” Chloe’s angry shouting turned into a pathetic whine. “She’s just a crippled bitch! If she destroyed your life and stole everything your parents gave you, I bet you wouldn’t be so high and mighty about forgiving her!” Jax went silent. The tapping stopped. “Jax, you promised,” Chloe pushed, her voice dripping with malice. “You owe me for taking the heat on that suspension last semester.” “I don’t want anything else. Just destroy her.” I heard footsteps as she moved closer to him. “Break her. I don’t care how you do it.” The nurse’s office was silent for a long time. I heard the wind rustling the curtains. Then, Jax sighed. “Fine. I’ll do it.” Chloe squealed in delight. She immediately switched back to her bubbly self, offering to buy Jax lunch. He didn’t refuse, and they walked out together. As the door clicked shut, I opened my eyes. My head throbbed, but I was okay. I stopped the recording app on my phone and sat up. I knew Chloe hated me. When my aunt and uncle took me in after the accident, she was furious. She hid her hostility behind fake smiles in front of her parents. I just didn’t know she wanted me destroyed. I thought about Jax slapping himself in class earlier. And then his resigned, “Fine, I’ll do it.” It was almost funny. I was actually curious. I wanted to see exactly how Jax planned to “break” me. 5 I walked back to the classroom just before lunch ended. Before I even stepped inside, I heard Jax’s booming voice. “Listen up! From now on, Harper is under my protection!” “If I hear anyone call her a cripple, a blind girl, or a freak, you’re dealing with me!” I paused at the door, frowning. Literally no one had called me those names except him. Now, thanks to his little speech, everyone would associate “Harper” with “cripple” forever. I turned to leave, but someone grabbed my wrist. “Harper’s here!” a guy shouted, laughing. I looked up to see Chloe grinning, a smile so bright it looked painful. “Where have you been? Jax has been looking everywhere for you.” She shoved me toward the center of the room. Jax hopped off the teacher’s desk and walked toward me. “Harper,” he said, taking my hand with a solemn expression. “I owe you a huge apology for today.” “I didn’t know about your… situation. I said some messed up stuff. And then I dropped you.” He winced slightly. “I am sincerely sorry. Please forgive me. Otherwise, I won’t be able to sleep at night.” The whole class was watching. This was theater, directed by Jax and Chloe. And I was the prop. I looked him dead in the eye. “I don’t accept apologies that aren’t sincere.” Jax raised an eyebrow, surprised. “How is this not sincere?” He gestured to the crowd. “I’m apologizing in front of everyone.” “You hurt me, and your solution is to force me to forgive you publicly so you look like the good guy. It’s manipulative,” I said calmly. “You don’t think you’re wrong. You’re just arrogant. It’s hypocritical.” Jax’s smile froze. The students gasped. Even Chloe looked shocked that I had a backbone. “So,” I tilted my head, “can you get lost now?” Jax stared at me for a long beat, then suddenly laughed. He stepped aside, sweeping his arm in a ‘after you’ gesture. As I walked past, he called out, “Hey, Harper! I’m going to show you how sincere I am!” He kept his word. From that moment on, he stopped taking smoke breaks between classes. He kicked the guy sitting next to me out of his seat and claimed the desk, spending all day resting his chin on his hand, staring at me.

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I am a Z-list celebrity. A total nobody in Hollywood. On my 22nd birthday, I hopped on a livestream to celebrate with my tiny fanbase and decided to jump on a TikTok trend: “First toast to myself: When I was six, I annoyed my brother during a family trip, and he beat me up. When we got home, my parents didn’t scold him; instead, they yelled at me for hours.” The comments section instantly flooded with [Generational Trauma] and [Justice for Luna]. Just then, my brother walked by, deadpan, and stared into the camera. “Are you talking about the fishing trip? You insisted on catching fish in the deep end and drowned. You were blue when I pulled you out. I was giving you CPR and chest compressions to save your life, and when you woke up, you asked if I was using your chest as a punching bag.” The comments exploded: [LMAO, has Bro not escaped his toxic family yet?] 1 As a Hollywood newbie and a transparent Z-lister, I’ve spent two years playing background extras—corpses, maids, pedestrians. I have a few fans, and I cherish them. My 22nd birthday coincided with wrapping a small supporting role. My character died early, so I was unemployed again. I went home to celebrate. I lit the candles, played a fan-made tribute video, and felt genuinely touched. Being loved by strangers is a precious thing. Then came the “Real Talk” segment. I poured coconut water into a wine glass, swirling it pretentiously like a Napa Valley sommelier. “First toast to myself,” I began, channeling my inner storyteller. “Six years old. I annoyed my brother. He beat me up. Parents yelled at me. Trauma.” The chat rolled by: [What kind of parenting is that?] [Omg Luna, come to my house, I’ll treat you right.] [Wait, who is the hottie in the background?] Liam, my brother, had just walked in. He paused, realized he was on camera, and delivered his rebuttal about saving my life, not beating me up. “I almost became an only child that day,” he deadpanned. I paused. My memory was fuzzy. I only remembered the chest pain and the yelling. “Is that what happened?” I asked, my confidence wavering. “Mom, Dad, and I didn’t bring it up because we didn’t want you to have PTSD. And you’ve held a grudge for sixteen years?” “…” I pushed Liam out of the frame, refilled my coconut water, and pivoted. “Second toast to myself. Middle school. To improve my grades, I set an alarm for 5 AM every day, even in winter. Hard work pays off.” A ghostly voice drifted from off-camera: “You mean when you were twelve, set an alarm for 5 AM, got scared of the dark, and ran into my room to wake me up to study with you?” “You were a senior! Waking up early is good for you!” I argued, though my voice was getting smaller. “I fell asleep in AP Calc because of you,” Liam retorted. “That’s why I started locking my door.” I cleared my throat. “Third toast to myself. High school graduation. I fell for my gaming duo partner. I finally gathered the courage to confess my love, and he blocked me instantly.” A cold scoff echoed from the hallway. “Luna, did you forget you were using my account? That was my gaming buddy. You borrowed my account for the summer, confessed to him, and he thought I was hitting on him. He panicked and blocked me. You ruined my reputation in the gaming community.” “…” The chat was unreadable. It was just a wall of [HAHAHAHAHA]. Finally, one comment stuck: [Bro is fighting for his life in this family.] 2 The “toast” was a disaster. After ending the stream, I started punching Liam’s arm. “Liam! I was live! Could you not save me a little face?” “I did,” he smirked. “If I didn’t hold back, you’d be cancelled by now.” Drama queen. He gets that from our mother. “It’s my birthday. Can’t you let me win once?” He tossed a small velvet box at me. It landed perfectly in my lap. “Here. I let you win.” I opened it. It was the diamond bracelet I’d been eyeing for months. “Brother!” I shrieked, making a heart with my hands. “You are the best, most generous brother in the world! Being your sister is my greatest honor! When I win an Oscar, you’ll be first in my speech!” Liam checked my forehead for a fever. “Go to sleep, Luna. Stop dreaming.” The next morning, I was woken up by my agent, Lisa, screaming. “Luna! You’re trending!” I shot up. Did I get cancelled? Did they find my burner account? I clicked the link. A clip of my livestream had gone viral. Not just me—Liam too. [LMAO having a sister like this is like owning a husky. Pure chaos.] [Who is the brother? He’s hot.] [New industry plants? I’m listening.] [I want the brother as my husband and the sister as my wife.] “Luna, are you listening?” Lisa barked. “Huh? Yeah.” “A new variety show wants you. And your brother. It’s Family Ties, produced by director Sam Cohen. Big budget. Big stars. This is your shot.” “Does Liam have to go?” “Yes. Ask him. Heck, ask him if he wants to sign with me.” Liam owns a photography studio. He’s a boss. He wasn’t interested. That night, he came home with late-night kebabs. “Want some?” “I have to watch my figure.” “Please, like you don’t eat junk when I’m not looking.” I grabbed a skewer. “Liam, we’re famous.” “I know,” he said, looking bored. “Clients today asked for selfies.” “Can you help your little sister out?” I massaged his calf. “There’s a variety show…” “What’s the catch?” “They want you too.” He scoffed. “I knew it. You want to ride my coattails.” But after a night of flattery and begging, he agreed. 3 The show was called My Kin & I. It was a live-streamed reality show, meaning no editing to hide our true personalities. On filming day, Liam wore a white shirt with a red rose embroidered on it. He looked more like a celebrity than I did. “Bro, it’s a family show, not The Bachelor.” He ignored me. We arrived at a villa in the countryside. The cast list was intimidating. First, the power couple: A-list actor Hayden Cole and his wife, singer Chloe Xu. They were the industry’s golden couple. Next, veteran actor Zack Zimmer and his adorable 4-year-old daughter, Mia. Then, us. “Hi, I’m rookie actress Luna Lane.” “I’m Liam Lane, photographer.” Finally, the heavy hitter. Vivian Jiang. The legendary actress who retired years ago. She was practically royalty. She walked in looking elegant as ever, followed by a tall, handsome young man with glasses. “Hello everyone,” Vivian smiled. “This is my son, Julian Jiang.” 4 The internet probably broke right then. Vivian Jiang had a grown son? Julian was dressed in all black, wearing semi-rimless glasses. He had his mother’s soulful eyes but a sharper, colder jawline. He looked smart, stoic, and expensive. “I’m Julian,” he said simply. “I work in game development.” We all sat around a large table. The director announced, “Welcome to My Kin & I. Treat this like your own home. Relax.” Hayden Cole laughed. “If it’s my own home, can I take my shirt off?” The chat went wild: [DO IT.] Chloe Xu elbowed her husband. We settled in. The director announced lunch. “Since this is your home, you have to cook. We provide ingredients, but you have to win games to pick them.” First game: The “How well do you know your partner?” challenge. Hayden and Chloe went first. Question: “Who fell in love first?” They both wrote their own names. Fail. Zack and Mia were up. “Who does Daddy love most?” Zack wrote: Wife and Mia. Mia wrote: Mommy. They argued with the director until he gave them the point for cuteness. Then, us. Director: “Who do you love more, Mom or Dad?” Me: “?” Liam: “?” Are you trying to start a war? I looked at the camera. “Mom, Dad, I love you both equally.” Director: “No cop-outs.” We scribbled. We flipped our boards. Both said: Mom. Director: “Why?” Me: “Do I need a reason to love Mom? I just do.” Liam: “What she said. Son’s prerogative.” We won a bag of rice. Next question: “What was Luna’s first role?” Liam smirked. He wrote: Eunuch. “Correct,” he laughed. “High school summer job. You played a eunuch in a period drama. Mom and Dad watched that 3-second clip on loop for weeks.” Great. My career highlights.

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Jake is five years older than me, but I never called him “Brother.” I watched him date girl after girl, dutifully calling each one “Sister-in-law.” On my 22nd birthday, I waited all day, but Jake never showed up. That night, I made a wish: to stop loving him. When I went downstairs to take out the trash, I saw a familiar figure. It was Jake’s best friend, Wes. “Wes? What are you doing here?” “Jake got caught up. He asked me to drop off your gift.” “Oh. Thanks. Where’s yours?” He smiled. “I prepared two options. You answer my question first, then I’ll decide which one to give you.” “Summer, loving him is exhausting, isn’t it? Why not try someone else? How about being my girlfriend?” 1 I stared at Wes in shock. When did he figure out I liked Jake? I thought I hid it perfectly. I never showed a hint of jealousy in front of Jake. “Wes, I don’t know what you mean.” He pressed his lips together. He was smiling, but his eyes looked nervous. “Let me rephrase. “Summer Lin, I like you. “I’m asking if you’d give me a chance. Will you go out with me?” But he’s Jake’s best friend. The first time I met Jake when I was five, Wes was right there next to him. Technically, I’ve known Wes for seventeen years too. I stared at his face, suddenly remembering the wish I made tonight. Wes chuckled under my gaze. “Why are you looking at me like that? “Am I causing you trouble?” I shook my head. Not trouble, just… surprise. Wes is different from Jake. In all the years I’ve known him, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him date anyone. For a while, I even thought he might be my rival for Jake’s affection. Meanwhile, Jake never had a shortage of women. Thinking of that, my heart stung again. After the sharp pain faded, I looked at him and said: “I literally just wished to stop being single tonight, and here you are, delivered to my doorstep. “Wes, you must be sent by fate. “So I’ll follow destiny. Let’s date!” Wes froze, seemingly surprised that I actually agreed. After staring at me for a moment, he smiled. He turned to his car and pulled out a beautifully wrapped gift box. He handed it to me. “This one is for my girlfriend.” 2 I opened it right in front of him. It was a necklace encrusted with small diamonds. It looked expensive. “This is too much, isn’t it?” I knew his family was wealthy, but usually for birthdays, his gifts were on par with whatever Jake gave me. When it was his birthday, I’d return the favor with something similar. Wes stepped closer and ruffled my hair. “For you, it’s not expensive.” As he got closer, a faint scent of cologne drifted over. It was different from Jake’s scent. His was colder, like bitter lemon filled with ice. I quietly stepped back, creating some distance. Just as I was thinking about how to return the gift, Wes’s phone rang. “Wes, did you deliver the gift?” The night was quiet, so Jake’s voice came clearly through the receiver. Along with the laughter of a girl next to him. “Yeah, delivered.” Wes kept his eyes on me while he spoke. I felt inexplicably awkward. I looked away, but my ears were still tuned to the call. “Good. I called Summer earlier and she didn’t pick up. Thought she might be mad.” Wes chuckled low. “No, she went downstairs to throw out the trash and didn’t bring her phone.” “Makes sense. She’s soft-hearted, never stays mad at me. “Wait, how do you know she didn’t bring her phone? Is she right there? Put her on.” I turned around immediately, terrified Wes would hand me the phone. I just agreed to be his girlfriend. Talking to Jake right now felt wrong on so many levels. Unexpectedly, Wes turned his back to me and lowered his voice: “She can’t talk right now. If you have something to say, tell me, I’ll pass it on.” “Just wish her a happy birthday. Tell her to try and find a boyfriend this year. Every time I take her out to eat, I have to explain she’s my little sister so people don’t misunderstand.” Jake’s teasing voice casually voiced my deepest embarrassment. I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms. Wes laughed softly into the phone. “That won’t be a problem anymore.” Jake paused for two seconds, his voice turning cold. “What do you mean? She’s dating someone?” Wes stepped forward and with his free hand, took mine. I froze, wanting to pull away, but he interlaced our fingers tightly. Wes looked down into my eyes and said quietly: “Yeah. She’s with me. She’s my girlfriend now. If that’s all, I’m hanging up.” 3 After hanging up, Wes didn’t let go of my hand. “Any plans for tomorrow?” I stared at the ground and whispered no. “Then I’ll pick you up tomorrow. We’ll go out. It’s getting cold tonight, you should go up.” I nodded. When he finally let go, I practically fled towards the building. Wes called out from behind me: “Summer, you won’t regret it, right?” I stopped, but didn’t dare look back. “I won’t.” “Good. If you do, I’ll have to start pestering you.” My face heated up. I walked into the elevator without turning back. When I got home, sure enough, there were missed calls from Jake. And a barrage of texts. [Happy Birthday, Summer.] [I was busy, so I asked Wes to drop off the gift since he was passing by.] [Are you guys together?] [When did this happen?] [Why didn’t you tell me?] [I never saw you two talking much, how did you end up dating?] [Did he pressure you? Are you afraid to say no? Don’t be scared, I’ll talk to him.] I looked at the messages. My chest felt tight. I couldn’t describe the feeling. The satisfaction of revenge? Guilt towards Wes? Or was it unwillingness, grievance… After deliberating for a long time, I replied with a simple “Yeah.” Jake immediately tried to call. But I didn’t want to answer, so I declined. Jake sent another message. [Summer, have you really thought this through?] I have. I don’t want to like you anymore. Another message popped up. [Do you like him?] I don’t know. The Wes I knew always seemed distant at gatherings. But that superior face and cold temperament always attracted attention. Tonight, he was the one who confessed. Besides the surprise, I was a little panicked. Now that I’ve calmed down, I feel like agreeing was a bit impulsive. But maybe Wes isn’t a bad choice. Jake called again when I didn’t reply. I accidentally answered. “Summer, are you really with Wes?” Jake sounded anxious over the phone. So he can panic too? I gave a low “Mmhmm.” I heard him curse in frustration. “Did Wes force you? That bastard knows you’re like a sister to me, and he still made a move!” “Summer, you don’t have to be afraid of him, I’ll talk to him—” I cut him off. “I’m not afraid of him. He said he likes me, so I said yes.” And you never said you liked me. So, why are you angry? Jake’s anger cut off abruptly. Then came the sound of something shattering. A woman’s frightened voice screamed, asking what was wrong. Suddenly, all my complicated emotions vanished. Jake belongs to any woman. But he will never belong to me. I should have seen that clearly a long time ago. I looked at the necklace Wes gave me. I whispered: “Jake, I thought you would be happy for me.” I used to just call him Jake. He said it was rude. Why did I call Wes “Brother Wes” but not him? But now that I called him Brother, he wasn’t happy either. Rustling sounds came from the other end, Jake’s voice sounded tight. “Summer, wait for me. I’m coming back now. We need to talk face to face.” The call ended, and a message from Wes popped up. [Summer, if Jake comes back for you, don’t be soft-hearted, okay?] [Give me some face. Date me for at least a week.] I imagined the expression on Wes’s face as he typed that. Probably helpless, with a hint of indulgence. I couldn’t help but smile. I replied with a “Okay.” 4 The next morning around nine, Wes called to ask if I was up. I hadn’t fully woken up yet. “What’s up, Wes?” I heard a soft chuckle on the other end. “Forgot as soon as you woke up, huh?” I suddenly remembered I agreed to go on a date with him last night. I sat up immediately. “Ah, I haven’t forgotten. I’m getting up now.” Wes’s smile deepened in his voice. “It’s okay, no rush. Let me know when you’re ready.” After hanging up, my heart pounded. I buried my face in my hands, regretting everything. Every time I met Wes before, Jake was there. Oh right, speaking of Jake. He said he was coming back to find me today. The more I thought about it, the messier it felt. I didn’t know what kind of crazy fit he was throwing, getting so agitated at the news of me and Wes. He doesn’t like me. Why does he care who I’m with? Last night on the phone, I clearly heard a woman’s voice next to him. I adjusted my mood and set Jake’s notifications to “Do Not Disturb.” I forced myself not to think about him. Since I agreed to be with Wes, I should focus on that. When I got dressed and went downstairs, I saw Wes’s car parked outside. He was leaning against the car door. Wearing a cashmere coat, standing lazily. His indifferent face broke into a smile the moment he saw me. He walked towards me. “Wes, sorry, I overslept.” He hummed an acknowledgement. “So how do you plan to make it up to me?” I didn’t expect him to say that and froze on the spot. “Uh, I’ll buy you dinner?” He smiled and came over to take my hand. “Sure. But I’d prefer if you agreed to another condition.” I didn’t know what condition Wes would propose. But being late for the first date was indeed rude. I could only bite the bullet and agree. “Okay, name it. As long as I can do it.” “Change how you address me. Don’t call me Brother Wes anymore.” “Huh? Then what do I call you?” “Just Wes.” After he said it, he looked down at me. There was a faint expectation in his eyes. I said the name in my heart. When I tried to say it out loud, it felt foreign. “W-Wes.” My voice was tiny. But he heard it. The smile on his lips deepened, and he responded seriously. “Yeah, I’m here.” Leaving aside our relationship status… Wes’s face really was lethal when he smiled. Especially knowing that smile was because of me. It made me even shyer. I blushed and changed the subject. “Let’s go eat. I’m starving.” Wes took my hand without a word. He seemed to really like interlacing fingers. He held my hand like that last night when I agreed to date him. But I wasn’t used to it. After lunch, Wes dragged me to an art exhibition. “Wes, aren’t you here on a business trip? If work is busy, we don’t have to go to the exhibit. You should go back.” His family wanted him to go back and manage the company. But he said he wanted to start his own business before he turned thirty. Before, whenever there was a gathering, he would sit for a bit and leave. During the meal, he’d be constantly answering calls and emails. In my impression, he was a CEO busier than a workhorse. But during lunch today, he didn’t look at his phone once. And now he wanted to take me to an art exhibit. Wes casually said he finished his work last night. Today’s time belonged to me. I blushed, pretending to be calm. “Wes, I’m not a child. I don’t need you to accompany me.” “Oh. Well, I’m a child. I need you to accompany me.” Help, my face is burning.

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1 My wife’s nephew was kidnapped. The ransom was half a million dollars. But when I tried to pay it, I found that my wife, Arabella, had frozen all of my bank accounts. I must have called her a thousand times to ask why, but not a single call went through. The boy, Jill, was tortured for three days and three nights. By the time he was rescued, his small body broken and bruised, he had already stopped breathing. I pulled every string I had to find my wife, only to track her to a hotel room, in bed with her own brother. “I’m sad our daughter died too, Caleb,” she said, her voice devoid of emotion. “But we can’t bring her back. As it happens, my brother needs a heart transplant, and she’s a perfect match. You should bring the body to the hospital.” So that was it. She thought it was our daughter, Maya, who had been kidnapped. A laugh, sharp and bitter, escaped my lips. I turned and had the body delivered to the surgical wing as she’d asked. “Ugh, did Maya really die looking this… messy?” Her brother, Julian, glanced at the small form on the gurney with disgust before turning his glare on me. “And you, what kind of husband are you? Just leaving a corpse here like this? What if you scared Arabella? You’re completely incompetent.” I sneered. Me? Incompetent? Jill, my wife’s nephew, wasn’t my blood. But when he was taken, I was the one frantic with worry. I was the one who called the police, the one who spent three sleepless nights negotiating with the kidnappers. When I found my accounts frozen, I was the one who begged and knelt before friends and strangers, trying to scrape together the ransom. And where were his actual aunt and his biological father? They’d turned off their phones, ignoring every message, every desperate plea, until the kidnappers finally made good on their threat. My voice was cold as steel. “If either of you had answered a single one of my calls, if you’d helped me raise that money, that child would still be alive.” My in-laws rushed in just then. My mother-in-law shoved me aside, shielding Julian with her body. “Don’t you dare blame them! This is all your fault. If you hadn’t taken Maya to the amusement park, she never would have been kidnapped in the first place.” “Our Maya is dead because of you,” she spat. My father-in-law cleared his throat, a look of casual indifference on his face. “She was just a girl, anyway. What’s done is done. At least her heart can be of use to her uncle. She’s not a complete waste.” “She would have just been a drain on the family later on anyway,” Julian added, fanning the flames. “You know, brother-in-law, if you weren’t always spoiling Maya, she wouldn’t have been so willful. Look where it got her. Cost her her life.” Arabella’s expression hardened, her tone leaving no room for argument. “I’ve already signed the organ donation consent forms. Your objection is meaningless.” Julian sighed, a flicker of triumph in his eyes. “Well, since poor Maya is already gone, I suppose I have no choice but to accept her… gift. Don’t you worry, brother-in-law. I’ll take very good care of her heart. I won’t let your good intentions go to waste.” A cruel smile twisted my lips. “As the girl’s family, how could I possibly object to a plan that allows her heart to beat again?” Leaving them all stunned into silence, I turned and walked away without a backward glance. But I didn’t leave the hospital. I went straight to the labs in the west wing. Three minutes later, I held a DNA report in my hand. It confirmed what I had long suspected: Jill was not Arabella’s nephew. He was her son. And Julian was his father. The truth had been hiding in plain sight. After our wedding, Arabella, her brother Julian, and her parents had all moved into my villa. I always found it strange, the way she and Julian behaved. They were far too intimate for siblings. I’d walked in on her in his room more than once, dressed in flimsy lingerie. When I confronted her, she’d just called me insecure. They’re brother and sister, what could possibly happen? This time, in my desperate search for them, I’d hired a private investigator. He sent me a photo. It was of them in a hotel hallway, locked in a passionate, unrestrained kiss. I couldn’t lie to myself anymore. Arabella was already eagerly prepping Julian for the transplant. Jill’s body, his heart now removed, was tossed onto the floor of the morgue like a discarded doll. I saw my in-laws from a distance, kicking the small form out of their way with looks of revulsion. A cold chuckle escaped me as I walked away. This had nothing to do with me. Ever since Maya was a baby, Jill had been cruel to her, pinching and hitting her when no one was looking. When Maya started learning to talk, every time she called Arabella “Mama,” Jill would shove her to the ground and beat her. And Arabella? She always took his side. I was busy with my career. By the time I realized the extent of the abuse, the damage was done. My daughter was five years old and still couldn’t speak, all thanks to him. To see him treated this way by his own parents… it was still a shock. A pathetic, tragic end. It was Maya’s birthday. I was taking her to the amusement park to celebrate. But as we were leaving, Jill blocked our path, throwing a tantrum and demanding I take him too. He despised Maya, and she was terrified of him. I knew a day out with him would only end in tears and trauma for her. So I made a split-second decision. I dropped Maya off at my parents’ house instead. I never imagined something like this would happen. For two full weeks after the funeral, Arabella didn’t come home. But Julian’s social media was active. [Surgery was a success! Someone is so worried about me, she won’t leave my side no matter what I say. She really cares about me!] [This soup my darling made for me is the best!] The comments were a stream of envy and congratulations. [Congrats, Julian! You found a keeper!] [Your girlfriend is such a good cook!] I saw the fresh love bite on Julian’s neck in one of the photos and laughed out loud. The kidnapping case had stalled completely, but they didn’t seem to be in any hurry. The medical examiner needed to perform an autopsy on Jill’s body and called the family to sign the consent forms. I was the only one they could reach. When I arrived at the hospital, the body was gone. I assumed the examiner had already taken it, but as I turned to leave, I overheard two nurses talking. “How did a body end up in the dumpster? If a stray dog hadn’t dragged it out, we never would have found it. It’s been… mauled. How are we supposed to explain this to the family?” I froze as they wheeled a gurney past, carrying a mangled, half-eaten corpse. As much as I disliked Jill, a wave of pity washed over me. One of the nurses noticed my horrified stare. “We are so sorry, sir,” she said, her face pale with guilt. “This is a result of the hospital’s negligence.” “Can you check the security cameras to see what happened?” I asked. Before she could answer, a sharp voice cut in. “Let’s not waste the hospital’s resources. The body has been found, that’s all that matters.” Arabella strode toward us, a group of police officers trailing behind her. She pointed an accusing finger at me. “This is your fault, too! You can’t even look after your own daughter’s body. What good are you? No wonder you got her killed!” Julian sighed dramatically. “Such a shame. The body is so damaged, they’ll probably never find any clues now.” He reached out to put a consoling arm around my shoulder. I stepped away. He stumbled, lost his balance, and crashed to the floor with a cry of pain. “Julian!” Arabella shrieked, her eyes flashing with fury at me. I just laughed and threw a stack of papers in her face. “We’re getting a divorce.” I had put up with all of it for Maya. But since the day my daughter was born, Arabella hadn’t cared for her once. I was the one working to provide for everyone, and the one coming home to take care of our child. I told myself she had postpartum depression, I made excuses for her. But she was a doting mother to Jill. When he was sick, she stayed up all night with him. When he bullied Maya, she forced our daughter to apologize. And when she thought Maya had been kidnapped and killed, she didn’t shed a single tear. My heart had finally turned to stone. Rage contorted Arabella’s face. She lunged, her hand raised to strike me. “You dare ask for a divorce?” I caught her wrist and flung her hand away. “Is this because I froze your accounts?” she screamed. “I was just worried! You know what they say about men with too much money. It’s your fault for not making me feel secure!” Seeing the cold indifference in my eyes, her tone suddenly softened. “What happened to Maya… it was a tragedy. Let’s just put it behind us. The living have to go on living. We can have other children.” She tried to sound seductive. “I’ll even give you a son this time. How about that?” “You and I will never have another child,” I said, pushing her away with a look of utter contempt. She was about to explode again when Julian whispered something in her ear. Her expression changed in an instant. She snatched the divorce papers, signed them with a flourish, and threw them back at me. “Fine! I don’t need you anyway,” she sneered. “But you’ll regret this.” I soon found out what she meant. The moment I got home, I received a call from my company’s secretary. Unbeknownst to me, Arabella had been using my name to systematically transfer the majority of my company’s assets into a shell corporation. The divorce would leave me not just penniless, but saddled with massive debt. I stared at the evidence on my phone, a cold smile forming on my lips. When I looked up, Arabella was standing in the doorway, arm in arm with Julian, a triumphant smirk on her face. “It’s not too late to take it all back,” she purred. “Or I will leave you with nothing.” I laughed and had my staff throw all of their belongings out onto the street. “Get out.” I tore our wedding photo in half and threw the pieces in her face, looking at her as if she were a complete stranger. Julian took a deep breath, a cruel smile playing on his lips. “Here are Maya’s ashes. My sister and I have decided to scatter them at sea. What do you think?” They were that desperate to destroy the evidence, that afraid the police would connect the death to them. “Maya always loved the ocean,” Arabella added, nodding in agreement. She shot me a disapproving look. “See how much he cares about her? And then there’s you. You have no idea how to be a father.” Watching their little performance, I started to laugh. “Have you forgotten, Arabella? When I called you for the ransom money, I just said ‘our child’ was kidnapped. I never said it was Maya.” I bit down hard on the next words. “And Maya was never the only child in this house. There was also your precious, darling nephew…” Arabella just sneered. “Do you think everyone is as spoiled and reckless as Maya? Jill is a good boy. He wouldn’t just run off and get himself kidnapped.” She glanced at her watch, impatient. “We’re throwing a birthday party for him tonight at a five-star hotel. We have to go.” A question began to form in my mind. Why were they so certain the body was Maya’s? The answer came a second later. As Julian turned to leave, he shot me a smug grin and tugged at the collar of his shirt. Hanging from a simple red cord around his neck was a jade pendant. A priceless, emperor-grade jade pendant. I froze. That was the protective charm my parents had given Maya. What was he doing with it? Maya had been frail since birth. My father had spent a fortune on that piece of jade, even having it blessed at a temple. She had worn it every single day of her life. I lunged forward and ripped it from his neck. “What the hell are you doing with this?” I demanded. “I gave it to him. You have a problem with that?” Arabella said, annoyed. “I told you from the start, Maya is just a girl. Her fate is too weak for such a valuable gift. It would only bring her bad luck. If you had just listened to me, she wouldn’t be dead! Now, my brother has to wear it, to use his strong life force to suppress the bad energy from the dead.” I was shaking with rage. I couldn’t hold back any longer. I swung my hand and slapped her, hard, across the face. Julian rushed to her side, full of fake concern. “She’s not wrong,” he said, looking down his nose at me. “Sons carry on the family name. Daughters are nothing.” He smirked. “Don’t worry. Even without Maya, you’ll still have Jill to take care of you in your old age. He can inherit your vast fortune. You should be grateful. Jill is the golden boy of our family. You’re lucky to have him as an heir.” His voice turned venomous. “As for Maya’s ashes, we should just dump them somewhere filthy, to make sure a money-pit like her never dares to be born into our family again.” At his words, a wicked gleam appeared in Arabella’s eyes. “You’re right, brother.” She walked over to the small urn, and before I could react, she opened it and poured the ashes into the dog’s food bowl. The dog wagged its tail and began to eat. “Are you insane?” I stared at her, horrified. She just laughed, a wild, manic look in her eyes. “This way, that little bitch won’t dare be reborn in my womb again!” Seeing the pure madness in her eyes, a horrifying thought hit me. She was jealous of my daughter. Jealous of Maya. Just then, my housekeeper led two police officers into the room. “Julian Vance,” one of them said, holding up his badge. “We have credible evidence linking you to the kidnappers of Jill Collins. You need to come with us.” The color drained from their faces. “What are you talking about?” Arabella shrieked. “How could the victim be Jill? It was Maya! Maya Reed!” The officer looked confused. “You’re the parents and you don’t know which of your children is missing?” “I know what this is,” Julian suddenly declared, shooting me a triumphant look. “You hired these actors to try and trick us, didn’t you? Nice try, but we’re not falling for it. Jill is waiting for us at the hotel right now. I’ll call my parents and prove it!” His hand trembled as he dialed. When his father answered, he blurted out, “Dad, where’s Jill? Put him on the phone!” He shot me a cocky, challenging look. But the voice on the other end was confused. “What are you talking about? Jill’s been with you two this whole time. You’re supposed to be bringing him over!” “He’s not with you?” Julian’s voice cracked. “No. He left us a note a few days ago saying he was going to find you.” The words hung in the air. Julian slowly turned to look at the police officers. One of them stepped forward and handed him a folded piece of paper. “The child who was tortured to death by the kidnappers was your son, Jill Collins. This is his death certificate.”

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Transported into a novel, I stood by devoted second lead Asher Shen from nothing to tech mogul. When his old flame Celeste returned, he asked for a divorce, just as the plot foretold. But she immediately betrayed him, leaking secrets and draining his accounts before vanishing. I didn’t sign the papers. Instead, I comforted him. Grateful, he swore to build a better life. Five years later, his new company went public with Celeste, now a star, by his side. The media cheered. I smiled from the audience. The first time he betrayed me, I got the “Comeback Kingmaker” system. My task: stay until his company listed. My reward: freedom and all the money. His comeback was 98% complete. This time, I was leaving him with nothing. 1 As Asher’s company soared, so did my status in the high-society circles. Every woman envied me, whispering that I had placed the winning bet. Five years ago, we were the city’s most notoriously miserable couple, him pressuring me relentlessly for a divorce. But when his company collapsed and he was left broken and bankrupt, I was the bigger person. I became the loyal wife who helped him rise from the ashes. They all said my patience had finally paid off. But I knew something was wrong. Asher was in love again. We knew each other too well. No matter how hard he tried to hide it, I saw the signs. He used to come home right on time, but lately, he’d linger in his car in the driveway, chain-smoking, the exhaustion etched on his face. When he finally came inside, silence hung heavy between us. I used to pick out all his clothes—a monochrome sea of black, white, and gray. Suddenly, he started having his assistant buy them. He wore a lot of cyan these days. It was Celeste’s favorite color. His old flame. And on her birthday, the lights in his office building burned all through the night. I had a feeling I knew what was coming. It wasn’t until today, at an alumni gala Asher dragged me to, that my suspicions were confirmed. There she was, standing right in front of me: Celeste. She smiled, extending a hand as if she’d never betrayed him, never left him for dead. Asher’s gaze was ice. He stared her down, sharp and unforgiving, and made no move to shake her hand. But I knew better. The moment he saw her, his grip on my wrist tightened, a tremor running up his arm. I kept my smile perfectly in place and patted the back of his hand. “Celeste, dear. It’s been five years since you stole the Shen family’s trade secrets and helped his rivals short his company into the ground.” My words were a jab at her, but they were also a reminder for Asher. Whatever dalliances he had in private, he had to maintain a respectable front in public. As if waking from a trance, he wrapped an arm around my waist and steered me away. That night, a video of Celeste’s interview went viral. The reporter asked why she had suddenly returned to the spotlight after years of silence. Celeste looked into the camera, tears streaming down her face like a tragic heroine. “I was young and foolish,” she choked out. “I hurt the man who loved me, and now… I just want to win him back.” Her eyes pleaded. “Asher, can you ever forgive me?” The story exploded. A beautiful, disgraced actress and a resurrected tech titan. Asher was furious. He immediately got his PR team on the phone, ready to issue a statement denying any connection to her. His face was flushed with a rage I hadn’t seen in all our years of marriage. When the PR head asked if they should sue Celeste for slander, Asher’s fury faltered. I watched him, knowing exactly what he would say. His eyes darted away. After a moment of hesitation, he shook his head. “I just don’t want to be associated with her,” he explained to me, his voice tight. I nodded with a placid smile, adding a silent footnote in my head: You’re afraid a lawsuit would ruin her career. What a pair we were. Two people, each with our own secrets, politely refusing to expose the other. When we first married, my love for him had bordered on madness. Now, watching him was like watching a play—a distant, passionless affair. But no one could have predicted how truly insane Celeste was. She came for us on the bay bridge, her car hurtling toward us in the wrong lane. I was in the passenger seat. If Asher swerved, we’d be fine. But Celeste would crash through the guardrail and plunge into the cold, dark water below. No chance of survival. If he didn’t swerve, we would all be hurt. His eyes locked with hers, a deep, mesmerizing gaze, as if they were the only two people in the world. A pair of star-crossed lovers, locked in a trance of love and hate. And there I was, the villain in their drama. Because I was the one slapping his face, screaming at him to swerve, clawing for the steering wheel. The world erupted in a deafening crunch of metal as the cars collided, twisting together in a grotesque embrace. Dazed, Asher stumbled out of our car, his hands trembling as he checked on Celeste. Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth as she leaned against him. She shot me a look over his shoulder, a triumphant smirk on her face, and mouthed two words. “I. Win.” It took me a long moment to pull myself from the wreckage. A deep, pulling pain started in my lower abdomen. “Asher… help me…” I called out weakly. He snapped back to reality and rushed over, scooping me into his arms. My consciousness began to fade. In the wailing ambulance, I could vaguely hear him calling me his wife, begging me not to leave him. I felt the warmth of his tears landing on my forehead. How cliché, I thought, and let the darkness take me. When I woke up, I was greeted with two pieces of news. First, I was two months pregnant. Second, the system notified me that Asher’s comeback was at 98%. I would be going home very, very soon. 2 Asher visited my hospital room every day. And every day, he’d take a call and rush out. I knew he was going to see Celeste. But he was a master of deception. No matter how late it was, he always came back to my room, curling up on the small cot beside my bed, his body pressed against mine. Once, as he was leaving, he paused and pressed a hand to my belly, whispering softly. “Daddy will be right back.” In that moment, I found his very existence repulsive. I was done being polite. “Why don’t you take that fruit basket to Miss Celeste?” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Since you can’t seem to stay away from her.” The warmth on his face shattered. He just stood there, speechless. “Let’s not fight,” he finally managed. “The baby can hear us.” I slapped him. The sound echoed in the quiet room. “Does the baby know its father almost got it killed for his old flame?” Asher’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. His face was a mask of pleading. Just then, Celeste’s call came through. “Asher, my stitches tore again… it hurts so much…” Her voice was a syrupy, seductive purr he could never resist. He was on his feet in an instant. I turned my head away, refusing to look at him as he left. A moment later, a message popped up on my phone. It was from Mr. Davies, one of our biggest clients, wanting to discuss a contract. Davies was generous, but he had one major flaw: he insisted on sealing every deal over copious amounts of alcohol. The system warned me. If I went, I would have to drink. And I couldn’t drink while pregnant. My expression turned to ice. I knew the risks. Asher had lectured me about them endlessly. But I didn’t care. I’m leaving this world soon, I told the system. This baby was never meant to be born. It was a product of lust, not a child of love. It wasn’t something to be cherished. Besides, landing this massive contract with Davies would accelerate the company’s growth. It would push Asher’s comeback progress to 99%. I went to the dinner. I drank until everyone was satisfied, and I walked away with a signed contract. I’d thrown up three times before I got home, my stomach feeling like it was on fire. When I opened the door, I heard Asher’s voice, unusually cheerful. “I bought so many little outfits for the baby today, and a stroller! We should start decorating the nursery…” Then he smelled the alcohol on me. His words died in his throat. The atmosphere in the room dropped ten degrees. He gently steadied me, his face a thundercloud. He helped me remove my makeup, cleaned my face, forced a sobriety tonic down my throat, and called our family doctor. “You know you can’t drink while you’re pregnant!” he finally exploded, his voice low and furious. He grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him. His eyes burned with anger, but a sheen of tears swam in them. I patted his cheek and laughed. “I was out there building an empire for you and Celeste,” I slurred. “What’s with the concerned husband act? Deep down, you’re probably hoping I drink myself to death so you can make room for your precious old flame, right?” He cut me off with a desperate kiss, trying to smother the cruel words. I shoved him away with all my strength. “Don’t touch me. You’re filthy! While I was entertaining clients, where were you?” The color drained from his face. I unlocked my phone and pulled up the message Celeste had sent me earlier. It was a photo of her and Asher. She was in a hospital bed with an IV in her arm, and he was asleep in a chair beside her. On his forehead was the clear imprint of a lipstick kiss. “It’s not what you think!” he stammered. “I just… I hate her for what she did! I wanted to see how pathetic her life has become!” I closed my eyes. I called him pathetic, a fool who deserved to be tricked, a dog who would always go back to his own vomit. After seven years, a husband and wife know exactly where to stick the knife. He stormed out. Not thirty minutes later, Celeste updated her social media. A picture of two hands, intertwined. The caption read: He’s back with me. 3 A few days later, it was my birthday. Knowing I would be leaving this world soon, I threw a large party, inviting all my closest friends. It was meant to be a farewell. But then an uninvited guest arrived. Asher walked in with Celeste on his arm. Around her neck was a stunning emerald necklace. The one I had fallen in love with, the one Asher had bought at auction as my birthday gift. He had given it to her. The room was filled with my friends, my true friends. Their gazes, a mixture of embarrassment and pity, burned my skin. Asher had publicly humiliated me. He stood before me, but before he could speak, his eyes were drawn to a scroll one of my friends was holding. It was a piece of calligraphy from a renowned master she adored. She had begged me for it countless times, but I’d always refused. Now that I was leaving, I was giving away my entire collection to people who would appreciate it. Asher’s brow furrowed. “I thought this was your favorite,” he said, his voice laced with confusion. “You looked at it every day. I had to pull so many strings to get the artist to come out of retirement for this!” I took a step back, my voice sharp. “What, you can throw away a fortune on a gift for Miss Celeste, but I can’t have the freedom to give my own things away?” He rubbed his temples, a wave of exhaustion washing over him. “Elara, you know that’s not what I mean.” He pulled me into a quiet corner, his eyes pleading. “Celeste has been trying to get a meeting with Director Zhao for weeks. He happened to be here tonight, so she begged me to bring her. That’s all this is. Don’t overthink it.” His lips brushed against my shoulder. “We’ve been married for years. Can we please just… be okay?” I wrenched my arm away, my smile bright and brittle. “Of course. In fact, Director Zhao and I are great friends. I’d be happy to make the introduction for her.” I saw a flicker of relief, then genuine delight, in Asher’s eyes. But my mind drifted back five years, to a time when I was sick in the hospital. Asher was at his lowest point then, unable to even pay the medical bills. One of his friends had clapped him on the shoulder and offered to help. Asher had glanced over at me, his expression unreadable, before finally saying, “No, we’re fine.” And so I endured the pain without medication, all for the sake of his pathetic pride. So this is what it was like for the girl he actually loved. He was willing to swallow his pride, to beg and scheme, all for her career. The difference between being loved and not being loved was painfully clear. But did he really think I would play the part of the gracious, forgiving wife? I glided over to Director Zhao, a glass of champagne in hand, and gestured toward Celeste. “She’s a phenomenal actress,” I said, my voice sweet as poison. “Played the part of a devoted lover so well she had Asher spinning in circles. She’s also a magician—when he lost all his money, poof! She vanished.” I continued, my smile never wavering. “Oh, and she’s a master of disguise. The moment she sees money, or another woman’s husband, she transforms. It’s like a dog seeing a bone.” Celeste’s smile was frozen on her face, stretched thin and tight. Asher’s eyes were practically shooting sparks at me, but I didn’t care. I was having too much fun. I gestured grandly. “Director, if your new film needs any supporting roles, you should consider Asher, too. He’d be perfect for the part of a kicked dog.” Asher’s fists were clenched so tight his knuckles were white. “Elara,” he seethed. “There’s no need to drag up the past! All you ever talk about is how I was tricked! Are you going to hold that one mistake over my head for the rest of my life?” He was tired of my reminders. Perhaps he was ashamed of the five years of struggle, of the humiliating climb from the bottom, and hated that I was the one who had witnessed it all. I rolled my eyes and met Celeste’s gaze, which was brimming with unshed, dramatic tears. One woman had seen him at his absolute worst, a wife who knew all his scars. The other was the unattainable first love. No wonder he could never let her go. Asher snatched the wine glass from my hand, his voice sharp with command. “Apologize to Celeste. Now.” I slapped him across the face, hard. A red handprint immediately blossomed on his cheek. “You really do deserve everything she did to you.” I turned and walked away. From across the hall, my friends were calling me over to cut the cake. We were all gathered in the main hall when, without warning, the massive crystal chandelier overhead began to shudder. Then, it fell. Screams erupted. People scattered in a panic. I heard voices shouting my name—“Elara, watch out!”—and felt hands pulling me back. But among all the cries of concern, not a single one came from my husband. In the split second the chandelier fell, he lunged in the opposite direction, shielding Celeste with his own body. A shard of glass still managed to slice her cheek. Asher stared at the thin line of blood on her perfect skin, and something inside him snapped. He whirled on me, his face contorted with a primal rage. “You planned the venue! How could you not know the chandelier was faulty? You did this on purpose! Were you trying to kill her?” A friend stepped between us, shoving him back. “Asher, what the hell is wrong with you? Elara was almost crushed to death! Have you been married to a monster for the last seven years? You don’t have a single word of concern for her?” I just watched him, a slow, knowing smile spreading across my face as his features twisted in fury. “Oh, so we’re done pretending you hate her now? Done playing the part of the devoted husband?”

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After the entire internet canceled me, I flew to Europe to clear my head. While I was there, I beat the living daylights out of a racist hulk of a man on the street. The video blew up on social media instantly. 【Omg, she just effortlessly dropped a 250-pound dude like it was nothing. That is peak womanhood! The ultimate Alpha Female!】 【That woman has guts of steel. Someone find her handle, I need to propose to her right now!】 That is, until the follow-up video revealing my face got posted. Once they realized it was me—the same woman they had been dragging for being a “roid-raging, manly bitch”—the haters went dead silent. 【Queen, please come back! Is it too late for us to beg for forgiveness?】 1 After getting canceled by the whole internet, I booked a one-way ticket to Europe to get away from the noise. You’d think bad luck would stay behind at customs, but apparently, it follows you. My assistant, Ruby, had just run off to grab us some gelato when I heard a loud crash behind me. I spun around. Ruby was on the ground, looking shaken. Standing over her was a mountain of a man—easily 250 pounds of pure aggression. He had a phone on a gimbal pointed right at Ruby’s terrified face, laughing maniacally. “This is what happens when these tourists don’t watch where they’re going! My sidewalk, baby!” It was obvious he had shoved her. And now, he was livestreaming his bullying for clout. My blood instantly hit a boiling point. I muttered a curse word that would make a sailor blush and sprinted over, helping Ruby up. “Did he push you?” “Chloe, I’m fine,” Ruby whispered, her eyes welling up with tears. She tugged at my arm, trying to drag me away. “Look at the size of him. Let’s not make a scene. Let’s just go.” Hilarious. I was already annoyed from being dragged through the mud online. Now this guy was bullying Ruby and being a racist prick? I know a thing or two about fighting. He was the one who needed to accept his bad luck. I calmly walked Ruby over to a bench in the shade, then turned on my heel and marched back. “Apologize. To her, and for your disgusting comments.” Despite my daily gym routine, the biological reality was stark. His shadow completely engulfed me. He stood there chewing gum with his mouth open, looking down at me with pure disdain. He flipped the camera to face me, gave the lens the finger, and sneered. “Look at this little Asian doll. Has to crane her neck just to look at me, but she thinks she’s tough. It’s comedy gold, folks.” Then, he spit his gum out. It landed right on the toe of my sneaker. Right. Reasoning with a guy whose biceps are bigger than his brain is a waste of time. I kicked off my heels. I let out a sharp breath and lunged. You want to mock me? I’ll make you submit. I’ll show you that I’m not just a lady—I’m a heavyweight. Adrenaline gave me a boost I didn’t know I had. Wham. A perfect shoulder throw. I used his own momentum against him, slamming him into the pavement with a sickening thud. One second, this pig was laughing with his chat; the next, he was clutching his back, rolling on the ground like a toddler. God, that felt good. I snatched his phone off the ground. I looked into the camera and unleashed a stream of perfect, colorful English. “Your mouth is writing checks your ass can’t cash, buddy!” “You think you own the street? You don’t even own a belt that fits! You look like a thumb with anger issues!” “You looked real tough standing up, but you look a lot better face-down on the pavement. Had enough?” He didn’t answer. He just groaned. A crowd had started to gather. Ruby was frantically waving at me from the sidelines, practically screaming. “Chloe! Stop! Stop roasting him! You’re a celebrity, remember?!” Whoops. Forgot about that. All I knew was that the adrenaline felt amazing. I pointed the camera back at him. “Look up. Apologize.” He finally got the message. Terror washed over his face as he scrambled backward on his butt, crab-walking away from me while stammering, “Sorry! I’m sorry!” Satisfied, I flipped the camera to selfie mode. “Take a good look,” I said, my voice steady and clear in fluent English. “Right now, he’s the one looking up at me.” I pointed a thumb at my chest, grinning a wild, reckless grin. “Me. Just an average woman.” 2 After the adrenaline wore off, we had to deal with the cleanup. Ruby and I spent the afternoon bouncing between the hospital and the police station. Reporters were already swarming, but Ruby managed to fend them off. She looked devastated. “Chloe, that guy is a somewhat famous streamer. He does ‘pranks’ for views. He was live when you hit him, and bystanders filmed it too. This is going to hit the States in an hour.” “My assistant and my people were insulted. I was defending us. That’s called justice.” Ruby looked like she wanted to cry. “Chloe… but you body-slammed him and then cursed him out like a sailor. People already hate you. This is the nail in the coffin.” I checked her bandage, unbothered. “So what?” I honestly didn’t care. I was the industry’s favorite villain. I was used to breathing and getting hate mail for it. At first, it hurt. The tidal wave of malice used to make me curl up in bed and sob. But eventually, you go numb. That’s why I came to Europe—to mourn my career before I went back home to officially quit. Let them talk. 3 The reason I was “canceled” this time was ridiculous. I was on a reality show called Farm Life. Another actress, Lila Rose, decided to go on a hunger strike to stay “camera skinny,” leaving her too weak to lift a spoon, let alone a shovel. In a clip the cameras “missed,” the “fragile” Lila accidentally knocked over a massive bucket of concentrated fertilizer onto a freshly planted patch. Too much fertilizer kills the soil—it burns the roots. It ruined the team’s progress. We had to spend hours hauling water to dilute the soil. While we worked, Lila stood in the shade, fanning herself. “Sorry guys,” she cooed. “I’m just so petite, I can’t lift anything.” I saw red. I walked up to her, trying to keep my voice level. “Lila, if you’re actually sorry, grab a bucket. Or at least eat a sandwich so you don’t pass out. The tasks are assigned by headcount. Do you realize that every job you ‘can’t’ do is just extra work for the rest of us?” The guys on the team were working themselves to death. I was exhausted. When the episode aired, the editors worked their magic. Lila’s fertilizer accident? Cut. Her lounging in the shade? Cut. Instead, they showed a montage of her “trying her best,” wiping a single bead of sweat from her pale, perfect forehead. She looked like a tragic, beautiful heroine. Then, they cut to me yelling at her until she cried. The internet exploded. 【Who does Chloe Vance think she is? She’s such a bully! Does she have ‘roid rage?】 【Poor Lila! She’s trying so hard! We won’t let you be bullied, baby!】 【Just because Chloe has shoulders like a linebacker doesn’t mean everyone else has to! Leave our delicate queen alone!】 Idiots. All of them. I was done with Hollywood. 4 Between the incident and Ruby’s injury, the vacation was a wash. We flew back to LA early. When we landed, my phone almost vibrated off the tray table. My manager, Linda, was texting me like a maniac. 【Chloe, darling! You are a genius!】 【Do not retire! Look at Twitter! We are about to level up!】 Confused, I opened X (Twitter). The trending topics were insane. #TheKnockoutQueen #AlphaFemaleEnergy #ChloeVanceFightVideo I clicked the hashtag. Someone had filmed the fight from a third-person perspective. It showed the perfect mechanics of my throw. I squeezed my bicep, admiring the muscle I’d built over years of lifting and sparring. The receipts were right there. I started reading the comments. Before they knew it was me, the internet was in love. 【OMG, she just casually flipped a 250lb dude like a pancake. That is peak womanhood!】 【I want her to punch me. Is that weird? That’s weird. I don’t care.】 【Finally, some real strength! I am on my knees!】 Then, the clearer video dropped, and people realized the “vigilante” was the hated Chloe Vance. The tone shifted hilariously. 【Wait… that ninja is Chloe?!】 【Help… I watched the livestream recording. The way she insulted him in perfect English was kind of… hot? Come back, Queen! We were wrong!】 【I never hated her! (Don’t check my history).】 【”Just an average woman.” Girl, if you’re average, I’m a potato.】 【It’s too late to simp now. I work in PR, and I heard Chloe is letting her contract expire.】 【No!!! Don’t go! Is it too late to grovel?】

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