Category: English

1 I was born with no immunity, a “bubble girl” confined to a sterile room. My parents visited only in hazmat suits, and our home was ruled by a pathological fear of contamination. When my healthy twin, Rose, wished for a kitten on her fifth birthday, my parents erupted. “A cat could kill your sister!” my father roared. They sanitized everything until Rose, sobbing, swore she’d never want a cat again. My needs were absolute—my every wish was their command. Yet on my eighth birthday, when Rose showed me a family photo taken without me, I simply whispered that I wanted one too. My father snatched the photo and tore it apart. “All this money, every day, just to keep you alive—and you cry over a photo?” Behind her mask, my mother screamed, “Lydia, how can you be so cruel? How could you even be in a picture?” Then, her final blow: “You want a picture? Maybe when you’re dead. Then you can have all you want.” They stormed out. I was left breathless, a crushing weight on my chest—air never felt so thin. … With trembling legs, I knelt and began to gather the scattered pieces of the photo. That’s when I smelled it. A faint, alien scent slithering into my sterile world. My breath hitched. I looked toward the intake vent of the air filtration unit. A thin grate covered the opening. And there, wedged between the grate and its housing, was a tiny corner of a photograph, trembling with the flow of air. My heart began to hammer against my ribs. I crept closer, stood on my tiptoes, and stretched my arm, my fingers straining for the paper. The grate was too high. I couldn’t reach it. Broken. Something was broken. I knew what it meant. My body knew, too. The room began to spin. A dull ache bloomed in my chest, and a coppery, sweet taste rose in the back of my throat. I stumbled to my bed and sat, trying to calm the violent shaking in my hands. I was afraid to press the call button. The last time I’d used it was three months ago, for a blocked IV line. My mother had rushed in, her face etched with exhaustion. “Lydia,” she’d sighed, “you need to be more considerate. Your sister has a fever.” But this was different. I wasn’t trying to make trouble. The machine was broken. The air was poisoned. Still, I hesitated. I was terrified of the impatience in her voice, of hearing her say, “What is it now?” I dragged a chair over, climbed onto it, and wobbled as I reached up again. A wave of sharp dizziness washed over me. I pressed a hand against the wall to steady myself, gasping for air. Black spots danced at the edge of my vision, and a loud ringing filled my ears. I couldn’t do it. I scrambled down from the chair, my finger hovering over the green call button. Then I pressed it. The bell chimed three times before she answered. “Lydia?” It was Mom. In the background, I could hear upbeat music and Rose’s happy laughter. I tried to speak, to tell her the filtration unit was broken, that outside air was getting in. But my throat was closing up. All that came out were ragged, desperate gasps. “Are you crying?” Mom’s voice hardened. “Lydia, I’m with Rose, we’re retaking her photos. You’ve been difficult enough today. Stop throwing a tantrum!” Gasp… gasp… No… not a tantrum… I shook my head violently, a useless gesture she couldn’t see. Her voice was tight with suppressed frustration. “Fine. I know you’re upset. Just be quiet for a little while. I’ll call you back later.” The line went dead. The itching on my skin was turning into a burning sensation. I coughed, a wet, rattling sound, and stared at the bright crimson dot blooming in my palm. I pressed the call button again. She picked up on the first ring, her voice exploding through the speaker. “Lydia! What the hell do you want! I told you, we’re taking pictures!” I opened my mouth, but only a dry, rasping hiss escaped. “Can’t you just let your sister be happy for once?” Her voice was sharp, brittle with exhaustion. “You can’t be in the pictures! How many times do I have to tell you? Can you please just be considerate for once? Can you give your mother one moment of peace?” Beep. The dial tone droned on and on. I slowly reached out and pressed the button to end the call. I didn’t want to make Mom unhappy anymore. Maybe if I wasn’t here, she would always be happy. The room fell silent. My vision blurred. A deep, penetrating cold was spreading through my fingers. I looked down at the photo fragments scattered on the floor. My parents’ faces, torn into pieces. Rose, smiling between them, also shattered. I knelt again, gathering the pieces, my fingers numb and clumsy. I tried to fit my father’s brow with my mother’s eyes. If I had been healthy, would our family photo have looked like this? They were incomplete without me, I thought. But they were happy without me. The cold of the floor seeped into my bones. Clutching the torn pieces of my family, I crawled onto my bed. 2 I was floating. I passed through the wall and into the living room. The front door clicked open, and they were home. For the first time, I saw my mother without her protective suit. She was holding up a gold-rimmed certificate, her face lit with a smile so bright it had no shadows. “Our little Rose is so smart! First in her class!” My father took the certificate, a proud grin spreading across his face. They looked so different from the photos, so much happier without the bulky suits. Rose suddenly stopped. “I want to show Lydia my new doll.” She held it up. “I’ll disinfect it really well.” Mom’s smile flickered, but she quickly forced it back. “That’s very thoughtful of you, sweetie.” She stroked Rose’s hair. “But your sister’s not in a good mood today. She probably cried herself to sleep.” Rose’s lip trembled. “Is it because I showed her the family picture? I’m sorry.” Dad ruffled her hair. “It’s not your fault. Your sister is just… very fragile. It has nothing to do with you, Rose.” I stood right in front of him, trying to explain. No, Dad, it wasn’t that. The machine broke, I couldn’t fix it. And I didn’t cry. He couldn’t hear me. He walked right through me, leading Rose away. “I have to apologize to her,” Rose insisted, pulling away and running to the intercom that connected to my room. “Lydia! I’m sorry!” Her voice echoed into the silent space. “Do you want to play with my doll later?” The me on the bed, of course, didn’t answer. Rose waited a moment, then pressed the button again. “Lydia? Are you still mad?” My soul curled into a tight ball. I wanted to scream, to tell her, I’m not mad, Rose. I could never be mad at you. I’m just… gone. My mother’s voice came through the intercom next, edged with clear annoyance. “Lydia, this is the first toy we’ve ever bought for your sister. Can’t you play along for just a minute?” Okay, Mom. I will. Though I knew they couldn’t see me, I reached out and ghosted my fingers over the doll, then wrapped my arms around my little sister in a spectral hug. Thank you, Rose. The doll is beautiful. All these years, Rose had never had a proper toy. All the money, all the energy, all the attention had been poured into me. I was so sorry. But now, seeing the pure joy on her face as she held her first gift… it made me happy. From now on, you’ll have so many dolls, Rose. I did as Mom asked, then looked up at her, hoping for her approval. She just sighed, her voice heavy with weariness and disappointment. “Forget it. She’s just trying to get attention this way. If we ignore her, she’ll stop.” Dad’s face hardened. “I think we’ve spoiled her rotten!” He stomped over and started pressing the call button repeatedly. “Lydia, are you mute? Answer me! Who taught you to give people the silent treatment when you’re angry?” Rose held her doll up to block him. “Daddy, don’t be mean to Lydia.” Mom pulled his hand away from the button. “That’s enough. She was crying very hard earlier. She’s probably exhausted. Let her rest.” She took the doll from Rose’s hands. “You’re such a good girl, Rose. In a little while, we’ll sterilize the doll and put it in the transfer hatch. If your sister wants to play with it, she can get it herself.” Dad fell silent, turning away to sullenly start cleaning the house. I looked at the little doll sitting in the transfer hatch. What a shame. I’d never get to play with my sister. Rose held up her certificate, asking where to put it. Mom took it and consulted with Dad. Seeing the words “First Place” filled me with a quiet pride. The moment the certificate was taped to the living room wall, I spoke in unison with my parents. “Our Rose is amazing!” 3 That evening, Mom took a photo album from a drawer. Rose snuggled up next to her on the sofa. “What are we doing, Mommy?” Mom opened the album, revealing a few solo pictures of me. “We took an incomplete family photo today,” she said softly, her finger tracing the empty space on the new photograph. “Now, we’re going to put your sister in.” My heart, or what was left of it, gave a little flutter. Mom picked up a pair of scissors, but her hand trembled, hesitating over my picture. “Mommy?” Rose whispered. “I’m just thinking…” Her voice was thick with unshed tears. “How… how do I cut her out so it looks like she was really with us?” I looked at that empty space in the photo and felt a pang of sorrow. It’s too late, Mom. I’m already gone. No matter how many pictures you cut up, you can’t piece together a living daughter. “You and Lydia are twins, Rose. She was supposed to be just like you…” Her voice broke completely. “But she got so sick, and she could never leave that room. We knew she wouldn’t even be with us for many years.” Her words dissolved into sobs. “She could never, ever be in a family photo with us. So please, Rose, don’t be angry that Daddy and I are always thinking about her.” Rose’s eyes were wide and red-rimmed. She reached out a tiny hand to wipe away her mother’s tears. “Why would I be angry about that?” she said, her voice small but clear. “I’m always thinking about Lydia too, Mommy! I worry about her every day at school because she’s always sick. I want Lydia to be with us forever.” Mom pulled Rose into a tight hug, burying her face in her daughter’s small shoulder. After a long moment, she pulled back and managed a watery smile. She picked up the scissors again, her hand steady this time. Rose took a pair of safety scissors and joined her. Together, they worked. Rose carefully positioned the cutout of me in the empty space on the family photo. She was so gentle, as if she were afraid of hurting the paper version of me. “Like this, Mommy?” she asked, looking up. Mom took it, making tiny adjustments, angling my cutout so I fit perfectly in the gap. It looked like I was really there, standing between them, perhaps turning my head to listen to something Dad was saying. Rose held her breath, then let out a tiny “wow.” “Look, Mommy! Now it’s a real family photo!” Mom stared at the picture for a long time, her expression unreadable. Then she carried the patched-together photograph to the door of my sterile room, Rose trailing behind her. They stopped at the transfer hatch. Mom knelt, placed the photo carefully on the sterilized tray, and pushed it through the small opening. “Lydia, your sister and I made a family photo for you. See? You’re right in the middle.” She paused, her voice softer now. “I’m sorry I was so harsh today, honey. I didn’t mean to yell at you. It’s just… sometimes I get so tired.” Rose leaned toward the intercom. “Do you like it, Lydia? I cut it out really carefully, I didn’t mess up at all!” They waited for a response that would never come. After a moment, Mom sighed. “She’s probably asleep. We’ll check on her tomorrow.” They turned to leave. Mom walked slowly, glancing back over and over. Rose held her hand. “Will she be happy, Mommy?” Her mother’s voice floated back, thin and hopeful. “Yes. She’ll be very happy.” And she was right. I was happy. I was happy to finally have a family photo that looked complete. I wasn’t the monster who could never fit into their lives. I floated to the transfer hatch and looked at the photograph on the tray. In the dim light, the seams were almost invisible. We looked like a real, happy family. Dad’s hand seemed to rest on my shoulder, Mom was leaning her head toward me, and Rose was grinning from ear to ear. The photograph lay there silently, in the shadows of the hatch, waiting for someone who would never come to claim it.

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The moment I heard my daughter call another woman “Mommy,” my hand shook. I accidentally arranged a red apricot branch in the vase. But my husband’s female assistant saw it and ran out crying. That night, my husband asked for a divorce. Receiving the message at 3 AM, I thought I was dreaming. But early the next morning, he rubbed his brows, dark circles under his eyes, and handed me the divorce papers: “Mia said you were mocking her on purpose. If I hadn’t stopped her, she would have jumped last night.” “She’s young and sensitive, hates people saying she climbed up by seduction. I can only become single to coax her.” “When she forgives you, I’ll withdraw the divorce application immediately.” My five-year-old daughter chimed in from the side: “Bad woman, bullying Mommy Mia! Daddy, punish her!” Normally, I would have cried and screamed, accusing my husband of cheating and my daughter of siding with the mistress. But this time, I didn’t shed a single tear, my hand holding the food didn’t even tremble. I nodded calmly: “Okay.” “Today is our seventh anniversary, and also our seventh divorce.” My husband nodded: “The last time. Once she cools down, I’ll come back and live a good life with you.” I smiled and submitted the divorce papers. He didn’t know, this time, I was serious. Chapter 1 When my husband called back to reconcile, his tone was exhausted: “Mia said she forgives you, you can come back now.” But the only response he got was the sound of splashing water. I raised an eyebrow and turned on the speakerphone. The man’s low groan beside me became instantly clear. “Who are you? Where is my wife?” Julian’s casual tone instantly became tense, accompanied by the faint sound of grinding teeth. The man holding me chuckled, tucked my hair behind my ear, hung up the phone, and left the room. Half an hour later, the front door was kicked open. Julian rushed in, grabbing my hand nervously, circling me. Finding me unharmed, he sighed in relief and hugged me tightly: “Wifey, I missed you.” His eyes were slightly red, chin rubbing against my shoulder: “Are you mad at me? Sorry, I won’t do it again. Don’t use a wild man to provoke me.” “You know I love you the most. Even if it’s fake, I’ll get jealous.” Missed me? So he accompanied Mia to see orcas in the Maldives, then immediately went to Aspen to see the snow. She posted over a hundred show-off moments on Instagram this month. Listening to his heartfelt words, I sneered, “It’s not fake.” Watching his smile freeze, I looked amused: “We are already divorced. I don’t need to provoke you.” Julian laughed twice, his expression instantly relaxing: “Still jealous, wifey? Don’t be mad. She and I are just colleagues, I didn’t do anything to betray you.” “How about this, to compensate for making you divorce, I’ll propose to you again. Couples fight at the head of the bed and make up at the end. Please forgive me one more time.” Saying this, he took out a box from his pocket: “This is a Tiffany necklace, I bought it specially for you on my business trip.” My gaze fell straight on the ring finger of Julian’s left hand. There was a faint mark, one only ring wearers have. When we got married, he said he didn’t prepare a wedding ring for the sake of his professional image. Coupled with this abrupt necklace, it was self-evident who he wore the ring with. At the same time, my daughter rushed in from the door and hugged me. She opened her palm, revealing a lifelike butterfly hairpin: “Can you stop being angry? The little butterfly is apologizing to you.” I took the hairpin and pinned it on my head. The cold rejection was instantly stifled. How can one be angry with their own child? Bang! Fireworks sounded. Julian took my hand and walked out the door. A heart shape formed by 999 drones was slowly flying over. When it flew to my door, the drones changed formation, forming my name. [Scarlett, Happy 10th Anniversary.] My daughter looked at me with hope, while Julian smiled gently, just like the boy who set up 999 candles to confess to me back then. Very cliché. But very dazzling. Passersby exclaimed, stopping to applaud us: “Young man is good, very romantic!” “Kiss her! Kiss her! Kiss her!” I looked into Julian’s eyes without speaking. He pursed his lower lip slightly, leaning down to kiss my cheek. Just then, a car headlight flashed violently on my face, and Mia’s aggrieved crying came over. Chapter 2 Mia, teetering on sky-high heels, looked at Julian with teary eyes: “We just finished taking wedding photos, and you want to cheat? Julian. You said you would only love me in this life, you were lying to me! I’ll die for you to see!” Saying this, Mia ran towards a tree by the road, then crashed headfirst into Julian’s arms. She hammered Julian’s chest: “Julian, you bastard! Since you want to betray me, let me die.” My daughter ran over to wipe her tears, voice soft: “Mommy don’t cry, Daddy and I only love you.” Instantly, the gossiping eyes of passersby turned sharply towards me: “So that woman is the mistress?” “Must be. The child is so big, how can she have the nerve to seduce a married man.” I wanted to explain, but Julian frowned and interrupted me: “You go, I can’t let Mia down.” My daughter also pulled the hairpin directly from my head, ripping out a bunch of my hair. And snatched the necklace box from my hand: “Thought it was for you? These are gifts Daddy and I prepared for Mommy.” My daughter changed her tune to call Mia “Mommy” after only a month. Julian raised an eyebrow and smiled, kneeling on one knee in front of Mia: “I always wondered what I still owed you. Maybe, it’s this ring.” My daughter pinned the hairpin on her: “Mommy likes butterflies the best, I bought this specially for you.” At the same time, in the livestream of a passerby, a “Rich Family True Love” tag hit #1 on the trending list. [Husband and child love her so much, she is the real winner in life!] [OMG, that diamond on the ring is like two carats, looks like the Heart of the Ocean designed by a master for three years, worth over 100 million, the only one in the world.] Amidst the crowd’s praise, Mia looked at me contemptuously and leaned into Julian’s arms. Julian held Mia with one hand and led my daughter with the other, leaving. And I didn’t panic like before. Just silently screenshotted all of Mia’s social media posts, then blocked and deleted her and Julian. I have no time for the drama of a mistress rising to power. Chapter 3 Sebastian’s video call came through: “Scarlett, I’ve handled the company affairs and am on my way back. Want a midnight snack?” I thought seriously, “No, no appetite.” Sebastian’s expression instantly became nervous: “What’s wrong? Did the guy who called this afternoon bother you? He… he didn’t do anything to you, right?” Although he turned his head pretending to speak casually, the slight pursing of his lower lip revealed Sebastian’s concern. I smiled and shook my head: “What are you thinking? It’s just hot weather. Don’t answer strange calls like that in the future, they are all harassment.” When Sebastian returned home and saw the empty living room, he rushed into the bedroom. Seeing me packing, he breathed a sigh of relief. “Aren’t we going abroad next month? Why packing now?” I smiled and hugged him, continuing to pack: “I changed the ticket to three days later. Let’s leave early and travel there.” When buying the ticket, I hesitated for a long time. But now, deciding to leave was just a matter of a split second. There is nothing worth lingering here anymore. Except… Early the next morning, I arrived at the auction. My parents went missing during their world tour years ago. On a small island up for bid today, there is the only clue I’ve found so far. But before I reached my seat, I was tripped by a high heel. Mia chuckled, “No way, Scarlett. Although your child calls me Mom now, you don’t need to bow so deeply to me.” “You are so much older than me, I’m afraid it will shorten my life.” Although she said that, she didn’t walk away. Instead, she asked her friends to help me up. “So good at acting pitiful. If I were a man, I would be soft-hearted. Too bad, Julian is devoted and faithful, only has eyes for me.” I slapped away the hands helping me: “Being a mistress feels good, huh? Otherwise, you wouldn’t be smiling so happily, right?” Mia’s smile disappeared, “You really have a sharp tongue. Hope you can still smile later.” Thinking she was talking about Julian, I didn’t care. Who cares about a man who already cheated? But unexpectedly, when the bidding for the island project started, Julian’s subordinate began presenting using my proposal. My proposal was stolen! I looked at Julian in disbelief. He turned his head away unnaturally. I worked sleeplessly for a month on this proposal to get the usage rights of this island and investigate the clues before my parents disappeared. I didn’t expect him to treat me like this for Mia. Mia tilted her head, pointing at the PPT on stage: “Is the presentation good, Scarlett? I’m determined to win.” To find the truth, I could only grit my teeth and call my subordinate: “Add ten points to the budget. No matter what, I want this island.” Julian opened his mouth looking at me, seeming to want to explain, but was pulled by Mia: “Julian, you said you would give this island to me. How can you let Scarlett snatch this island with your money?” I smiled bitterly. So, we started from scratch together, but in outsiders’ eyes, I was just a leech. Just as I wanted to tell Julian I would compete to the end, he suddenly stopped Mia: “What’s the point of fighting for a deserted island? I have a better gift for you, Mia.” Chapter 4 After my employee presented on stage, the tenderers showed approving smiles. Seeing no hope, Mia left the conference room crying. Julian glanced at me and followed her out. I frowned slightly, not knowing what drama they were up to again. Malicious bidding on this island had already forced me to sell all my shares. Until the end, Mia came back in Julian’s arms, smiling at me ambiguously. On the way out of the venue, people kept pointing at me. Fragments of nasty words destroyed my good mood just now. Just as I walked to the door, a woman stopped me aggressively, “Are you the one sending nude photos to my husband?” Before I could react, she slapped me to the ground: “Itchy without a man for a day? Wearing lingerie and calling others husband on video?” More and more people gathered, including my partners. “Sent to me too. Didn’t expect President Scarlett to have such a body under the suit, and bought so many toys. She really knows how to play.” “No wonder she could hook President Julian to death. She probably climbed up using this back then. Can’t blame President Julian, no normal man can resist.” I was a bit dazed by the slap. Looking at the explicit images on her phone, my heart sank. The person in the picture wore lace fabric more seductive than being naked, leading the eye constantly to private parts. I wanted to explain, but someone suddenly threw a cup of coffee. The dirty liquid fell from my head, soaking my shirt. At the end of the video, my coquettish voice came out. Silence filled the venue. Without exception, eyes fell on my red lips stained with coffee.

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On the last day of December, a woman led five-year-old me out of the foster home. She named me Hope. “Hope, your sister’s name is Grace. Your birthday is on New Year’s Day, symbolizing rebirth.” “So, every birthday, you must make a wish. A wish means a new beginning, a thing full of hope.” I nodded vigorously, teeth chattering from the cold. Back then, I didn’t understand. Every time I made a wish, Mom would take something from me. At six, I wished to see fireworks; they took my bone marrow. At seven, I wished for a doll; they took a kidney. At eight, I wished for cake; they took a lobe of my liver. This year, I am ten. Mom looked at me tenderly in the candlelight: “Hope, make a wish.” In the flickering light, I closed my eyes. My only wish this year is… To survive this year. Chapter 1 The fireworks outside danced in Mom’s gentle eyes. She asked softly: “Hope, what did you wish for this year?” I looked into her eyes, where the warmth I craved all year resided. I moved closer carefully and whispered: “I wish… Mom would love me forever.” Mom’s expression froze for a second. Then, she opened her arms and pulled me into a hug. The hug was tight, so tight I could barely breathe. She smelled of faint perfume. My cheek pressed against her soft sweater, and my eyes heated up. “Silly child.” Mom’s voice came from above, smiling. “Of course Mom loves you. As long as you are good, as long as your sister Grace survives, Mom will love you forever.” I nodded hard, rubbing tears onto her sweater. Mom only hugged me when I made a wish. This was the hug I waited a whole year for, from last New Year’s to today. Just as I extended my thin arms to hug her back, Mom let go. She cupped my face, wiping away my tears with her thumbs: “Hope is so sensible. Mom granted your wish, now will you grant Mom’s wish? Help your sister one more time, okay?” I nodded. It was always like this. I was used to it. “Grace’s heart is getting worse.” Mom’s voice remained gentle. “The doctor says she needs a healthy heart. Hope, are you willing to give your heart to your sister?” “Tomorrow, Mom will take you to the hospital for matching tests. If it matches, Grace can live. You want your sister to live, right?” I looked at her expectant eyes, at the gentle smile on her lips. “Okay,” I said. Mom’s smile brightened instantly. She hugged me again, light and fast: “I knew Hope is the best.” As she got up to cut the cake, the living room door was pushed open. My sister, Grace, walked in wrapped in a thick down jacket, cheeks flushed from the wind, eyes shining. “Mom! The countdown at the square started! Martha said we can watch from the front row! There are fireworks!” Mom put down the knife immediately, walked to Grace, and brushed the snow off her shoulder: “Sweetie, speak slowly, don’t swallow the wind. It’s cold outside, how about we go after your surgery?” “I want to go!” Grace swung Mom’s hand, whining, “It’s once a year! And the doctor said I’m stable…” Mom glanced back at me, then at the expectant Grace. That glance was short, too short for me to read the emotion. “Okay, okay. But only for a little while. Don’t get tired.” Mom’s tone held a doting I never heard before. Then she turned to me: “Hope, you have tests tomorrow. Rest early tonight, don’t go.” I opened my mouth, wanting to say I wanted to see fireworks too. I wanted to see real fireworks. When I wished at six, Mom promised me. I still remembered her smiling and saying: “Okay, after you help Grace, Mom will take you.” But after I gave my bone marrow, Mom just patted my head: “Next time. Grace can’t wait.” The words were swallowed back. Mom had already led Grace to the door, not looking back: “Hope, don’t eat anything after the cake. You need to fast for tomorrow.” The door closed. Chapter 2 I stood there, holding the piece of cake Mom gave me. The living room fell silent, except for the noise from the TV countdown: “Ten minutes left! The New Year is coming!” I carried the cake back to my small room. The storage room had no windows. I sat on the small bed, eating the cake in small bites. It was sweet. Sweet enough to be bitter. I suddenly remembered the night after my kidney donation at seven. The anesthesia wore off, the wound burned like fire. I cried for Mom. The nurse checked and said Mom was in Grace’s room because Grace had a nightmare. That night, I counted the cracks on the ceiling. At three hundred and twenty-seven, the sun rose. After the liver surgery at eight, I vomited until I blacked out. Mom visited, frowned, and asked the nurse: “Why such a big reaction? Will it affect the liver quality?” She didn’t ask if I hurt. Didn’t ask if I was scared. She only cared about the organ that was no longer in my body. The cake was finished quickly, but a sharper emptiness and pain came from my stomach. I only ate this small piece since the afternoon. Mom said to fast. But no one told me fasting hurt this much. The old scar on my abdomen started to ache dully. Since losing my kidney, I hurt every night. The living room lights were off. Martha probably went to sleep. The house was quiet, only my stomach growling and distant firecrackers. I endured, but finally pushed the door open gently. There must be food in the kitchen, even a slice of bread. In the fridge, there was a bowl of soup that looked delicious. I swallowed. “Hope?” Martha’s voice came from behind. I jumped, almost dropping the bowl. “Are you hungry?” Martha walked over, looking troubled. “But Madam said you have blood tests tomorrow, you must fast…” “Just one sip,” I begged softly, stomach growling again. “Martha, I’m so hungry, my tummy hurts…” Martha hesitated. She looked at the clock, then at my pale face and the hand clutching my stomach. Finally, she sighed: “Just a small sip. Really small. Or I’ll get scolded.” She poured a spoonful into a cup and heated it. In those few seconds, the aroma filled the air. My stomach cramped as if squeezed by an invisible hand. “Here, drink slowly.” The moment the warm liquid hit my throat, I almost cried. So hungry. Every sip was salvation. I sipped carefully, afraid to finish too fast. Just then, the front door clicked. Dad, Mom, and Grace returned. Grace was in Dad’s arms, sleeping. Mom followed with her bag. Their smiles froze when they saw me in the kitchen with a cup. “Hope? Didn’t I say fast?” Mom rushed over, snatching the cup. Grace woke up, seeing Mom’s angry face, she shrank into Dad’s arms. “Mom…” I looked at her, tears surging, “I’m really hungry, it hurts…” I pointed to my side where the kidney was missing. It throbbed from hunger and cold. “Hurts? You’re doing it on purpose! You don’t want to save Grace, so you ate?” “No, Mom, I’m just hungry…” I cried, reaching for her sleeve. Dad frowned, carrying Grace to the master bedroom: “Claire, put Grace to sleep first. Don’t scare the child.” Mom’s finger almost poked my nose: “Hope, didn’t I tell you, be good and Mom loves you? Did you promise to give your heart to Grace?” “I did, I did. Mom, don’t scold me, don’t throw me away…” I gasped. “You liar! You don’t want to save her! I raised you for nothing!” She grabbed my arm, crushing my bone, dragging me to the storage room. Familiar fear drowned me. She’s going to abandon me, just like the orphanage auntie said. Bad kids get thrown away. Mom shoved me in. I fell, pain shooting through me: “You selfish ingrate! Stay here and reflect!” The door slammed. Darkness swallowed me. Chapter 3 I curled in the cold corner, stomach empty and aching. Hunger gnawed from the inside, making me shiver. Worse was the itch. I scratched my skin, leaving red marks. But the more I scratched, the more it itched. Drilling into my heart. “Stop being hungry, Mom doesn’t want me anymore…” I muttered, digging nails into skin: “Transplant will fix it… scratch it clean and Mom will come back…” Warm liquid seeped out. Pain finally covered the itch. Darkness took my sight but sharpened my senses. I heard my heavy breathing, smelled the sweetness of the New Year Cake. Everyone eats cake on New Year’s. I wanted some too. Consciousness blurred. I saw that woman again. Snowy night. Thin coat. Holding a bundled baby. Couldn’t see her face, just her shaking shoulders. She put the baby on the cold steps and walked away. “Mom… Mom…” The baby cried, reaching out. That was me. One or two years old. The woman paused but didn’t look back. Snow turned her into a white shadow. “Mom take me! I’ll be good!” “Don’t leave me… please…” I chased crying. But her back grew smaller, disappearing into the snow. I knelt in the snow, crying until hoarse, until frozen. Until the orphanage worker dragged me back like trash, throwing me into the windowless room. “Stop crying! Your mom doesn’t want you! Crying is useless!” The lock sounded just like tonight. “No… Mom… don’t leave me…” I woke up sobbing. Face wet with cold sweat and tears. Morning. I struggled up. Scabs tore, stinging. I leaned on the wall, moved to the door, opening a crack. Living room bright. A big plate of white dumplings on the table. Grace sat in her high chair. Mom blew on a dumpling, feeding her. “Come, Grace. Lucky Dumpling. Eat for peace and health.” Grace bit it, smiling satisfied: “Yummy!” “Eat more.” Dad poured milk for her. “Our Grace needs lots of luck today.” My eyes glued to the dumplings. Hungry. So hungry. Vision blackening. I forgot pain, forgot punishment. Only food remained. “Hope?” Dad saw me first. Mom and Grace turned. But I couldn’t care. My focus was on the dumpling that fell from Grace’s bowl. Before I touched it, Grace tried to protect her bowl, bumping my hand. Weak as I was, I fell, smashing the table. Grace wailed: “My dumplings… my Lucky Dumplings… gone… woo woo…” Mom’s face turned iron. She stood up and slapped me hard. My head snapped to the side. Ears ringing. Face numb. “Hope! You did it on purpose! You can’t stand Grace being happy? Even stealing her dumplings?” I shook my head crying, terror gripping my organs: “I’m hungry… I want to save Grace… I’ll give my heart… let me eat a little…” Mom sneered, dragging me to the door: “Then let’s go to the hospital now! Get the surgery done early! Save you being an eyesore here, trying to harm Grace!” Cold wind cut my face. Wearing thin pajamas, I was stuffed into the car. Arrived at the hospital. I was taken to a bright room. The doctor frowned at my bruised body: “Mr. and Mrs. Vance, this child looks ten at most, body very weak. Are you sure about matching now?” “Is she willing? Did you ask her?” Mom looked fierce: “She is.” I summoned strength, kneeling before Mom, tears flowing: “Mom, Dad, I want to eat dumplings. I want Mom to call me baby. I want Mom to love me.” “I want to live through this year too.” Chapter 4 I shook, almost suffocating. Silence in the ward. Grace shrank into Mom’s arms, coughing: “Mom! Does she not want to give me her heart?” “It’s all her fault! Since she came, I’ve been sick! Did she pass her bad luck to me?” “She stole my dumplings, now she wants to steal my parents!” Steal? I looked up, screaming irrationally, tears mixing with blood on my face: “Then who stole what was in my spine? Who took my kidney? Who took my liver?” “My body, my organs, my life, aren’t they a life too? Since I came here, I’ve been losing, hurting. I stole nothing! I gave you everything!” Another slap. Harder, fiercer. Dad this time. He grabbed my hair, lifting me up roughly. “Hope, your cheap life was worthless since the day you were dumped at the orphanage!” “A waste unwanted by parents! Destined to die of hunger or cold! We pitied you! Took you out of that hell! Fed you, clothed you!” “From the day we took you, your existence was for Grace to live! Now Grace needs your heart. That’s your fate! You owe us!” I lay on the floor, blood frozen. So that’s it. I just owe you. Then I’ll pay. I laughed lightly, propping myself up shakily. “Doctor, I volunteer. Can we start?” Dad huffed: “Should have been like this. Wasting time, delaying Grace!” I entered the OR. Anesthesia spread from my hand, flowing through veins. Doctor prepping. I turned my head with difficulty, looking at the small observation window. Two shadows stood behind the glass. Dad and Mom. Shoulder to shoulder, eyes focused on Grace on the other table. Mom prayed. Dad held her. From start to finish, they didn’t look at me once. Not even once. Consciousness fading. The last thing I saw was Mom leaning close to the window, nodding to the doctor inside, mouthing: “Please.” Then she turned, walking with Dad to Grace’s room. Their backs overlapped perfectly with the shadow leaving in the snowy night. I closed my eyes, letting darkness take me. Mom, Dad. Everything you want, I return to you. Marrow, kidney, liver, and this heart. Finally, we are even. I don’t owe you anymore. Unknown time passed. Door opened. Parents surrounded the surgeon. He nodded: “Surgery successful. Almost no rejection.” “This is extremely rare in non-related transplants. Usually only happens with direct blood relatives.” Air solidified. Dad rasped: “Direct blood relatives?”

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My brother, Gavin Lancaster—the family heir—tossed all evidence and witnesses to prove himself a legal prodigy. The opposing counsel buried him with their own proof, leaving him speechless. I had made copies. Submitting them at the last minute, I testified for the victim and salvaged the win. At home, he exploded. “Who asked you to play hero? I was about to break through! Now everyone sees me as a fool! What are you proving, you imposter?” My parents turned on me; only my sister Serena defended me. She even married me against their will. But I was a fool. She only wed me to torture me more intimately. She had countless affairs, rarely came home, and stood as opposing counsel in every case of mine. It peaked when one of her lovers ran me over, costing me my legs. In court, she defended him. I broke. “Don’t you have a conscience? I’ve called you sister since I was four!” “And you?” she sneered. “You stole Gavin’s life at four.” In despair, I jumped from the roof. When I opened my eyes, I was back—on the day of my brother’s “evidence-free” defense. … When I opened my eyes again, I was sitting in the gallery of the courtroom. The defense attorney was just as aggressive as he had been in my previous life. “Mr. Lancaster has spent this entire trial lecturing us on legal statutes,” the opposing counsel sneered, pacing the floor. “But where is the evidence to refute my client’s claims? A courtroom is a place for facts, not fairy tales. Mr. Lancaster, you keep claiming my clients are lying. So, where is your proof?” A single drop of cold sweat rolled down Gavin’s temple. In my past life, this was the exact moment he began to crumble. He had already thrown all the physical evidence into a dumpster before the trial began, arrogant enough to believe he could win on rhetoric alone. Back then, after failing to talk sense into him, I had secretly gone to the sanitation site, dug through the filth, and retrieved every single piece of evidence. And at this precise moment in the last timeline, I had stood up from the gallery, holding the files high. “I have the evidence!” I had shouted. That one action saved Gavin’s law license. But it also ruined his grand plan for an “evidence-free defense.” “Oh, the evidence… of course I have it…” Gavin’s voice trembled now. His eyes scanned the room and locked onto me in the gallery. He furrowed his brows, shooting me a vicious glare. Gavin was arrogant. Ever since the Lancaster family found him and brought him home as their true biological son, he had been desperate to prove himself. But his arrogance was entirely built on the fact that I was always there, standing in his shadow, cleaning up his messes. Right now, his gaze held that familiar, entitled threat. But this time, I didn’t move. I turned my head and deliberately looked away. I heard him suck in a sharp breath. “Mr. Lancaster? We are waiting. Where is the evidence?” the opposing counsel pressed. “The… the evidence…” Gavin stammered, another bead of sweat dripping from his chin. He was frantically winking and signaling at me now. I stared blankly at the wall, completely blind to his panic. The judge cleared his throat, his patience worn thin. “If the plaintiff cannot produce reliable evidence, the charges cannot be substantiated. Case dismissed.” “What…” Gavin’s legs gave out, and he collapsed into his chair. The family of the bullied girl erupted into a frenzy of grief. “No! That’s impossible! We gave you the evidence!” the mother screamed, lunging toward the defense table. “We gave you our daughter’s clothes, her diary! Mr. Lancaster, bring them out! Please!” Gavin’s face was ashen. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Looking at the victims’ heartbroken parents, I frowned. My fingers twitched, but in the end, I kept my hands in my lap. I’m sorry, I thought. Just wait a little longer. Please, just wait. Now was not the time to act. Just this once, I needed to be selfish. I stood up to leave. Suddenly, a heavy gaze fell upon me. My breath hitched in my throat. Serena. My adoptive sister. And in my past life, my wife. Her eyes were dark with dissatisfaction and a hint of accusation. I let out a cold scoff. Instead of walking toward her like an obedient puppy as I used to, I bypassed her entirely and strode out of the courtroom. But when I reached the corridor, she was already waiting for me. I kept my face impassive and tried to brush past her, but her hand shot out and clamped around my wrist. She shoved me against the marble wall. Her hazel eyes were a storm of cold fury. “You had the evidence. Why didn’t you help him?” My heart seized. I hadn’t told a single soul that I had secretly retrieved the evidence. The fact that she knew could only mean one thing. She had been reborn, too. Looking at that gaze, a gaze identical to the one from my past life, my eyes burned. In my previous life, right before I died, I had screamed at her, begging for answers. She had looked at me with this exact same, indifferent gaze. Back then, my legs had been amputated from the knees down. We had lost the lawsuit. I looked like a raving lunatic in my wheelchair. “Did you marry me just so you could torture me better?” I had shrieked. She had only smiled, a playful, cruel tilt of her lips. “You ruined Gavin’s career. I ruined your life. Seems fair, doesn’t it?” She didn’t know that by then, I was already consumed by severe depression. Sitting on the windowsill, I had offered her a bitter smile and tipped backward. In my final moments, I saw her lunge toward me like a madwoman, reaching out to grab my hand. She missed by an inch. As I fell, I saw her hanging over the ledge, screaming my name. Before I hit the ground, my first memory of her flashed before my eyes. In the orphanage, pointing a small finger at me. “I want him to be my brother.” At school, standing between me and the bullies. “He is my brother. Touch him and see what happens.” Growing up, introducing me to the titans of the legal world. “This is my brother. If he makes a mistake, it’s my fault for not teaching him well. Please be patient with him.” For a fleeting moment, I used to believe she truly cared for me. But given a second chance, her eyes still held no place for me. I was just the outsider. Slap. The sound echoed in the hallway. Her face turned to the side, her eyes wide with shock. My voice was dead, devoid of all emotion. “That slap is for my lost legs.” “Rowan?” she whispered, instinctively calling me by my childhood name. I stepped around her and walked away without looking back. When I returned to the Lancaster estate, Gavin was in the middle of one of his usual tantrums. “Rowan is a lawyer too!” Gavin was shouting. “He was sitting right there in the gallery, watching me make a fool of myself! Now the entire legal community is laughing at me. Is that what he wants? That cuckoo in the nest, does he just get off on seeing the real son fail?” It was almost impressive. Even when I did absolutely nothing, Gavin found a way to blame me. But of course. In this house, Gavin could do no wrong. He was the biological son who had been lost to the world, the one who suffered while I enjoyed everything that was rightfully his. Therefore, I was the villain. Right on cue, Mr. and Mrs. Lancaster turned their furious gazes on me. “Why didn’t you help him?” my mother demanded. “He threw away all the evidence himself,” I replied calmly. “I tried to talk him out of it, but he wouldn’t listen. What could I do? I can’t speak in court without proof.” “Excuses!” Mother slammed her hand on the table. “You have a perfect win record. You could have said something, anything! The whole city was watching Gavin’s big debut. You just wanted him to look bad. You refused to help on purpose!” My father gritted his teeth. “If you had just stepped up, your brother would have won this case. We raised you for twenty years, and this is how you repay us? You ungrateful wretch!” I looked at them coldly. Unbidden, a sting of moisture gathered in my eyes. There was a time when they proudly called themselves my parents. When I got into law school, they hung banners and bragged to anyone who would listen about their brilliant son. Mother’s warm hands used to cup my face. Father always remembered to bring me my favorite cake on his way home from work. I hadn’t changed. Why was it that suddenly, my very existence was a crime? Gavin stepped forward, a smug look in his eyes. “Brother, I’m going to file an appeal. This time, help me out. Just consider it repaying Mom and Dad for raising you. Fair?” I looked at my parents. Then, I reached into my pocket, pulled out a bank card, and placed it on the mahogany table. “Every cent you’ve spent on me over the past twenty years is in this account,” I said quietly. They froze. “What is the meaning of this?” my father asked. I met their gaze without flinching. “From today onward, I, the cuckoo in the nest, will no longer intrude on your lives. I wish the four of you a very happy future.” My parents stood up in shock. I turned on my heel and bumped into someone. Serena was standing behind me. She was frowning, her eyes searching my face. I ignored her and walked straight to my bedroom. I left behind every luxury item my parents and Serena had ever bought for me. I packed only the clothes and essentials I had purchased with my own salary. When I emerged, holding a single cardboard box, Serena was blocking the doorway. “Ms. Lancaster, excuse me,” I said. “Can you not leave?” I thought I misheard her. There was a tremor of fear in her voice, something I had never heard from the iron-willed Serena. When I didn’t answer, her tone softened further. “I misspoke earlier. Don’t be angry, okay? Rowan, you’ve been with us since you were four. In the past, we were even married for three years…” She stopped, swallowing the rest of her words. Her eyes were red-rimmed as she looked at me. “You might be willing to walk away, but I can’t bear to let you go.” I stared at her, my jaw clenched. “Have you forgotten everything you did to me during those three years of marriage?” A tear spilled down her cheek. “Rowan…” “Get out of my way.” I shoved past her, squeezing through the gap in the doorway. She instinctively reached out to grab my sleeve. Just like the moment I fell from the building in my past life. She missed by an inch. With her desperate calls echoing behind me, I quickened my pace. Once I walked out of that door, I never looked back. I contacted the victims. I presented them with the evidence Gavin had tossed away. They nearly fell to their knees in gratitude and immediately hired me to represent them. The retrial was scheduled, and once again, the public’s eyes were fixed on the case. Could the adopted brother win the case the biological son had butchered? Before the trial, I ran into a familiar face in the parking lot. Serena was standing near my car, watching me. Her eyes were filled with worry and longing. “Are you still angry with me?” she asked, her voice as gentle as it used to be years ago. I turned to leave. She grabbed my wrist. “In our last life, it was my fault. I was wrong. Please, come home with me.” “Let go of me!” I shoved her. She stumbled backward, barely keeping her balance. For a long moment, she stood there. Then, she smiled, a sad, red-eyed smile. “Rowan, do you hate me that much now?” “Yes!” I spat, staring into her eyes without an ounce of hesitation. Her eyes grew redder. Her voice was hoarse. “I’m sorry.” “What are—mmmph!” Before I could finish, a chemical-soaked cloth was clamped over my nose and mouth from behind. My limbs instantly turned to lead, and I collapsed into Serena’s waiting arms. “Rowan, I have to do this,” she whispered. In a haze, I felt her bodyguards dragging me into a car. When I opened my eyes again, I was lying on a plush, king-sized bed. I looked at the decor, and a violent shudder ran through my body. This was the marital home Serena and I shared in our past life. What was she doing? How had she renovated this place so quickly? On the nightstand sat photos of me as a child, alongside pictures of the two of us together. What was Serena planning? Panic set in. I looked at the clock. Court day. I had been unconscious for over twenty-four hours. Where was my evidence? Where was the folder? Had I left it at my apartment? There was no time to go back. I threw on my clothes and bolted out the door, calling a friend to search my place while I hailed a cab to the courthouse. But when I arrived, panting and out of breath, I was too late. Gavin was already standing at the defense table, right where I was supposed to be. And in his hand was my missing evidence folder. When the judge declared a victory for the defense, the courtroom erupted in applause. Gavin wore a triumphant, smug smile. He turned, his eyes landing on me standing by the gallery doors, and his smile widened. But my eyes bypassed him. They landed on the woman sitting in the gallery, clapping politely. Serena turned her head. Our eyes met, and she froze. “It was you,” I whispered, the sound of my own voice dead and hollow. Rowan, this trial is crucial for his career reputation. I have to do this. Someone in the crowd pointed at me. “Hey? Isn’t that the lawyer who was supposed to represent them today? What is he doing standing there?” “Hah, I bet he got scared.” “Thank god Mr. Gavin Lancaster stepped up. This guy bailed at the last minute. He doesn’t even deserve to call himself a lawyer. Pathetic!” I turned to leave, but the courthouse entrance was already swarming with reporters. I didn’t want to deal with them, so I hurried down the steps. A reporter grabbed my arm, yanking me so hard I fell to my knees on the concrete. Pain shot up my legs. Cameras flashed in my face. “You were the original attorney for the victims, weren’t you? Why did Gavin Lancaster replace you at the last second?” “Were you just using this case for clout, feeding off the victims’ misery?” I gritted my teeth. “No!” “Then why are you late? If your brother hadn’t stepped in, the victims would have suffered a huge injustice!” “Are you fit to practice law? You’re a coward!” “Don’t run! You’re not going anywhere until you give us an answer!” I was pinned to the ground, my knees scraping against the hard stone, my suit rumpled and dirty. It was humiliating. A figure flashed on the steps above. I looked up and met Serena’s eyes. A flicker of genuine heartache crossed her face. But then, she looked at Gavin, who was beaming under the adoration of the crowd. She looked back at me and mouthed a silent message. Hold on just a little longer. A camera lens bumped into my forehead. I stared at the aggressive reporters crowding around me. “You want an answer?” I spat. “Fine.” I tapped my phone screen twice. A video began to play, projected on a tablet I held up to the cameras. Gasps rippled through the crowd. “Is… is that Gavin Lancaster?!” “Why is he throwing the evidence into a trash compactor?” Reporters scrambled to record the screen. I watched them with cold satisfaction. After my rebirth, I wasn’t taking any chances. To prevent being accused of withholding evidence, I had gone to the sanitation company after the first trial and bought their security footage. The video clearly showed Gavin destroying the files. It also showed me arriving minutes later, digging through the trash to save them before they hit the shredder. I had originally kept it just to prove the chain of custody for the trial. I never expected to use it here. The media swarm instantly pivoted. Gavin was surrounded. “Mr. Lancaster, why did you destroy the evidence? Was it just for your ego?” “How did you get the evidence back? Did your sister give it to you, or… did you steal it?” Gavin panicked. “What? Steal? I didn’t…” “Then how did you get it?” “I… I…” “You piece of trash!” The victim’s father roared, pushing through the crowd. He was watching the video of Gavin throwing his daughter’s clothes into the garbage. “We trusted you with everything we had! You threw it away for your own vanity!” “If it wasn’t for Rowan Lancaster, our daughter’s case would be dead!” the mother screamed. “You monster! Rot in hell!” A fist connected with Gavin’s face. The girl’s mother turned and dropped to her knees before me. “Thank you for finding the evidence! My daughter was going to kill herself. Thank you!” Kill herself… The image of my own fall from the building flashed before my eyes. I quickly reached out to help her up. “Please, don’t. It’s my job.” “Hold on.” A familiar, authoritative voice cut through the chaos.

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Five years into my tenure as Mrs. Brooks—Nolan’s perfectly sculpted, perfectly compliant wife—he found a college girl. He presented the divorce papers with the same impeccable, detached grace he used for closing a major deal. “After the settlement is final, there will be a substantial compensation package, Scarlett. Fifty million.” I choked on the tears that tasted like brine and fear. “Is there truly no going back, Nolan? If it’s the ingénue look you crave, I can… I can make myself look like her.” He frowned, a flicker of impatience—the barest tightening around his mouth—and I knew I’d annoyed the CEO, not moved the husband. Fear, cold and sudden, replaced the panic. I signed quickly. I couldn’t risk losing the payout, and besides, the clock was ticking. The secret I was carrying beneath my perfectly-fitted designer dress couldn’t be hidden for much longer. The day I moved out, his fresh-faced new girl, Cassidy, wired me a hundred thousand dollars. The other nine million will be installment-paid. Nolan had no idea. He thought he was disposing of me. In reality, I had sold him to Cassidy for ten million dollars. Priorities. A baby, a secret baby, was going to need a hefty college fund. 1 Nolan Brooks had untouchable wealth, but he was also a man of strict principle. Back in his romantic prime, he had divorced his perfectly suitable first wife for me. But he’d compensated Tatum with a string of massive projects, settlements that paid out in ten-figure profits, so much so that their business relationship never actually ended. Now, five years into my reign as the trophy wife, he had found a college student. Even for a woman with my nonexistent background, he was willing to pay out a generous eight-figure severance. I held back, my eyes brimming, refusing to touch the divorce agreement. Nolan sighed. “Take it, Scarlett. We’re still young. It’s good for you to get out there and see the world.” The tears fell then, not a hysterical flood, but a quiet, hopeless stream. Young? If he wanted young, he’d found it. Cassidy was barely twenty, a full two decades his junior. I was twenty-eight. Past my prime for a man like him. “Is there no room for maneuver, Nolan?” I pleaded, desperately. “If you like her type, I can make myself look like that.” I clung to a ghost of hope, knowing full well that nothing could shake a decision he’d already made. His brow furrowed again, a clear sign of his impatience. “I’ll add two more properties. A pied-à-terre in Manhattan, another estate in Miami. Don’t make this ugly, Scarlett.” I instantly shut my mouth, swallowing the sob. I was terrified that if I pushed any harder, he’d rescind the entire offer. I signed. Nolan and I had a prenuptial agreement that ensured I couldn’t touch his primary assets. The amount he offered—the staggering sum I’d just signed for—was more than I could earn in ten lifetimes. Not to mention the allowance he’d given me over the years, the endless jewels, the designer bags. Once the papers were signed, Nolan left for a business trip, instructing me to move out quickly. I nodded meekly, watching him go, a perfect picture of the devastated, compliant wife. It wasn’t until his sedan disappeared from the estate’s long, winding driveway that I wiped my face and instinctively rested my hand on my abdomen. It was time to go. If I didn’t leave now, the baby would betray me. And that baby? It definitely wasn’t Nolan’s. 2 Nolan Brooks was sterile. The universe had gifted him with staggering business acumen and classical, almost Roman good looks, but it had terminated his lineage. Not even a low sperm count; he was azoospermic. As a man who understood human nature intimately, he had no intention of raising another man’s child. That was why he was so incredibly generous to his women—to his ex-wife Tatum, to me, and likely to the next trophy wife, too. “Ma’am, Mr. Brooks has been gone for some time now.” The housekeeper’s voice startled me back to the present. I nodded, returning to the colossal emptiness of the house to pack. It took me three full days. I did it myself. I’d always been meticulously organized, so I had a detailed inventory printed out. I tracked down every single item: 308 designer bags, 588 pieces of fine jewelry, and a literal twenty pounds of gold bullion. The dozens of custom haute couture gowns I’d worn to events were also safely accounted for. I packed everything on the list, and then gathered up the remaining items—the shoes, the smaller accessories, even a few of Nolan’s five-figure watches that I “accidentally” swept into my pile. On the day I finally left the estate, three full moving trucks were loaded to capacity. But Nolan had returned early. Standing beside him, naturally, was the clean, innocent-looking college student, Cassidy Jones. A classic, all-American girl-next-door look, the kind of fresh beauty that promises peace and prosperity. Honestly, I could hardly blame Nolan. Even I felt a twinge of something akin to admiration. “I’m so sorry, Nolan. I didn’t know you’d be back early. I’ll leave immediately.” I lowered my gaze, letting my eyes redden. He gave a slight, almost imperceptible glance to the side, and Cassidy, ever the quick study, retreated discreetly. Nolan walked over to me and gently brushed a tear from my cheek. “If you need anything, reach out to my assistant, Chen.” I nodded frantically, knowing I would never dare. Unlike Tatum Vance, his powerful ex-wife, my secret was too big. If Nolan ever found out about the pregnancy, he would tear me apart. 3 After a month of carefully managing my pregnancy, I met Nolan at the Registry Office. As the final divorce certificate was handed over, his gaze casually flickered down to my abdomen. I tensed, my heart hammering. I’d intentionally worn the loosest-fitting dress I owned. Surely, he hadn’t noticed. “Where are you staying? Let me take you. Have you gained weight recently, Scarlett? You look… healthy. It suits you.” His voice was neutral, but even that small, three-tenths measure of concern was unbearable. I shook my head, smiling through a fresh mist of tears. “No, thank you. I wouldn’t want to trouble you.” Before he could say anything else, I rushed into the car parked nearby. It was a new car I’d bought myself—a modest sedan, maybe twenty thousand dollars. Low-key and dependable. A flash of concern—was it concern or pity?—crossed Nolan’s eyes, but he said nothing. When I was with him, I was a creature of absolute leisure, too lazy to even drive myself, preferring to recline in the passenger seat and breathe. Now, I was playing the role of the determined, self-reliant woman, ready to make my own way. The moment I arrived at my new place, Nolan wired me a check for ten million dollars. Hire a driver. My expense. We just got divorced, isn’t this inappropriate? I typed back. I kept the money. Watching the screen, I waited for him to reply. When he didn’t, I put the phone down. That man. Always swapping out the old model for the new. I changed my clothes and had my new driver—yes, I had already hired one, I just gave him a two-hour break—take me to an upscale restaurant. I needed to recoup as much as I could from Nolan. A baby’s expenses, after all, are astronomical. 4 As soon as I settled into the car, a transfer for a hundred thousand dollars arrived. It was followed by a text from Cassidy: The other nine hundred thousand will be installment-paid. I replied with a simple ‘OK’ emoji. I hesitated, then couldn’t resist offering a piece of advice. You should bring up your requests when he’s most relaxed during a massage. He usually agrees. Don’t ask for too much at once, though. Start with a few thousand, then slowly escalate. She didn’t reply. It was probably presumptuous of me. The car stopped. A valet led me to a private room where Nolan’s ex-wife, Tatum Reid, was waiting. Five years had passed, and she hadn’t changed at all. If anything, she looked younger, more radiant. Money and spite, I decided, were truly a woman’s best beauty products. I sat down across from her. “Tatum, this is for you.” I pulled out the most expensive jewelry set I owned and slid the case across the table. Tatum glanced at it, then pushed it back. “Nolan bought that for you with a flourish. I don’t want your sentimental cast-offs.” I made a show of looking troubled. It was true, everything I owned had been given to me by him. And I certainly wasn’t going to shell out several million for a new set of jewelry. Tatum gave a short, dismissive laugh. “You have such small aspirations, Scarlett. Five years with him, and you didn’t pick up a single skill for making money?” She sounded exasperated, almost angry. I pouted. “You think I didn’t try?” I threw myself into learning, honestly, but my brain was useless for it. Nolan told me which stocks to buy, and I’d still find a way to misread the ticker and lose the money. He’d funded three businesses for me in five years. The longest lasted three months. The shortest never opened its doors. Each venture cost him millions. I finally stopped letting him invest. I was afraid he’d see how incompetent I was and throw me out. Of course, in the end, I was abandoned anyway. But if you wanted to be technical about it, I was the one who abandoned him first. The moment I realized Nolan was genuinely interested in Cassidy, I knew this day was coming. I’d already made my preparations. 5 It had been a year ago. Nolan was giving a guest lecture at Cassidy’s university. He was charming, mysterious, and effortlessly cool, not to mention handsome with a flawless build. You could count the number of entrepreneurs his age with his looks and physique on one hand. The resulting chaos in the auditorium was exactly what you’d expect. Cassidy, a student council member, was the one bringing him tea and water that day. That was how she caught his eye. Nolan was a man of principle. He wouldn’t coerce her, and he certainly wouldn’t chase her while still married to me. But a person or a prize that Nolan wanted never escaped him. Despite his demanding work schedule, he managed to charm Cassidy and solidify their connection in just three hour-long meetings. “But I did learn something, Tatum,” I interjected, a sudden flicker of defiant pride rising when I thought of Cassidy. Tatum raised a surprised eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. To prove myself, I prepared to lay out my entire plan. But I only got as far as mentioning Nolan’s sterility when Tatum’s expression changed completely. “Who told you Nolan was sterile?” I felt like I’d been struck by lightning. “H-he’s not?” Tatum shook her head with certainty. “But then… you were married for ten years. Why didn’t you have a child?” Her face became complicated. 6 “Because I’m infertile.” “No, but… he was sterile.” Tatum gave me a look of profound disbelief. Could a man be that noble? “Then why did you leave him, Tatum?” I asked, confused. “If he was willing to take the blame for you, why did you still divorce him?” Tatum took a sip of wine, her expression calm. “There was no love between us.” But did love truly matter? When I first got with Nolan, I didn’t love him either. My sole focus was on his assets, his looks, his power… Tatum laughed again. “Then why did you leave him?” My heart sank. I looked down, my voice quiet with feigned sorrow. “He was the one who fell for someone else.” Tatum studied me with a knowing, heavy gaze that made me want to shrink away. But she said nothing more, answered a phone call, and left. I assumed she was off to a business meeting. That night, however, I saw her on the celebrity gossip sites. A-LIST POP SENSATION SPOTTED WITH MYSTERIOUS, ELEGANT WOMAN. It was only a photo of her back, but I recognized Tatum instantly. She was wearing the same dress from dinner. Soon after, the heartthrob posted a clarification: We were together, she dumped me, and I’m chasing her again! Looking at his young, handsome face, full of vitality and the energy of youth, I had to admit he was a catch. I pulled up a photo of Nolan. He was refined and distinguished, yes, but youth was priceless. Tatum was living a great life. It explained why she had offered me a hundred thousand dollar annual salary to be her ‘yoga instructor,’ even though I couldn’t do a single pose. I did it for the money. And a year later, Nolan had noticed me. 7 A thought sparked in my mind, and I texted Tatum. Is the gossip true? You’re really throwing away that ‘It Boy’ darling? She took a while to reply. In the meantime, I was scrolling through the A-Lister’s videos. He’d burst onto the scene five years ago, right around the time Tatum and Nolan got divorced. It suggested that Tatum was the source of his funding and network. No wonder he was so reluctant to let her go. If I were him, I’d be reluctant, too. What? Do you have your eye on him? she wrote back. I clutched my chest, unable to contain the flutter of excitement. He’s actually not bad. Could you… sell him to me? I don’t have much cash, but I can offer you a hundred thousand dollars. You just need to set up the introduction. I’ll handle the rest. I looked down at myself. Nolan had kept me well-fed for five years. But since we separated, I found myself restless, thinking about him at night. I needed a distraction. I needed a replacement. Maybe a man who was sweeter, more attentive, would help me forget Nolan. Tatum was typing for a long time, then the phone rang. I snatched it up instantly. “Sister, please. You don’t want him, just sell him to me. A hundred grand is nothing to you, but I have a baby to raise, I can’t go higher. Just do me this favor. I desperately need someone with better looks and a better body than Nolan, you see…” “What child are you raising, Scarlett?” Nolan’s voice. Sudden, terrifying. I yelped and threw the phone across the room.

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Working overtime until 2 AM, I accidentally clicked on a pop-up ad and saw a viral Reddit post. The OP’s tone seemed casual, but every word screamed despair: “Today, while my wife was working, I snooped on her phone.” “Reddit, putting everything else aside, she only blocked me. Does this mean I’m special to her?” “I’m not a simp, but being the only one blocked… isn’t that special?” I understood immediately. This was a man driven insane after seeing something on his wife’s phone. But that woman was so careless. How could she let her husband see her phone? Unlike me. I’m always cautious. I shook my head and instinctively patted the spot next to me. Then I froze— Wait, where is my phone? Chapter 1 After replying to the client’s last email, it was already 2 AM. The living room was quiet. My cat, adopted six months ago, was snoring on the balcony. My husband of one year, Julian Vance—whom I married for a business merger—was in the study dealing with his own work. I stretched, intending to wash up and sleep. My hand slipped, clicking on a pop-up. A hot Reddit thread appeared. I blinked, curiously scrolling down. The post was laid out before me. The OP was a man. His tone was light, but despair seeped through the screen: [AITA for thinking I’m special because my wife blocked only me?] “Today, while my wife was working, I despicably snooped on the phone she left in the study.” “Reddit, putting everything else aside… she pinned her best friend, her ex, and her family. But she only blocked me. Does this mean I’m special to her too?” Me: ??? Good lord. Where did this 24K gold simp come from? Why didn’t I meet someone like this? Truly, some drown while others die of thirst. I sighed with emotion and scrolled down to the comments. User A: “Bro, excuse me for asking, but when you say ‘putting everything else aside,’ what exactly is ‘everything else’?” The OP replied thoughtfully, word by word: “Umm…” “Just putting aside that she tells her best friend I’m old, putting aside that she tells her best friend she wants a divorce, putting aside that she wants to find her ex, putting aside that she hates talking to me, putting aside that she doesn’t let me touch her stuff…” “Yeah, that’s it. Just putting these aside for now…” User B: “??? Bro, you ARE a simp. How can you still think you’re special?” “Does she have to slap the divorce papers on your face and tell you to fuck off before you believe you’re unloved?” The OP went silent. More and more rubberneckers flooded in. Every comment was some variation of: “Look at this simp. Hopeless…” … Half an hour later. The OP came back online. He fiercely refuted all comments calling him a simp: “Yes, I love her. I loved her before we got married. Even if she scolds me, hates me, and wants to divorce me every day after marriage, I can’t convince myself not to love her.” “But I’m really not a simp. I’m sober. I’m rational. I know what I’m doing.” “But I don’t understand. How is being the only one blocked not special?” “You single dogs don’t get it. What do single dogs know…?” The commenters weren’t angry. Instead, they laughed harder: “Haha, OP is triggered. He’s a delusional simp…” I rubbed my temples, understanding the situation— A man checked his wife’s phone and was driven crazy by what he saw. But that woman was careless. How could she leave her phone around? Unlike me. I’m always cautious. I shook my head and patted the sofa next to me. I froze. Wait, where is my phone? Chapter 2 I searched around the sofa. Nothing. Crap. My phone was gone. It had all my work messages. Calming my anxiety, I retraced my steps. Finally. My gaze landed on the study door. I worked in the living room all day, only entering the study once to find a file. The study door was ajar. The light was still on. My merger husband was obviously still working. Coincidentally, every time I worked until dawn, he did too. I hesitated. Then I walked toward the study. Just as I reached the door. The light went out. Then. Steady footsteps sounded. Moving away in the dark. Disappearing behind the door connecting the study and the master bedroom. Julian went to sleep. I pushed the door open and walked in. Sure enough, I found my phone on the bookshelf. I didn’t use a screen lock. I swiped open, replied to a few messages, and went back to the contacts list. Pinned at the top: My best friend, my parents. And… my idiot ex-boyfriend whom I broke up with eons ago, inexplicably pinned there. Disgusting. Bad luck. Want to vomit. I rolled my eyes. Quickly unpinned the ex. Suddenly, an absurd thought flashed through my mind. Wife working late at night. Phone forgotten in the study. Pinned best friend, family, and ex. Was that post written by… Julian? Chapter 3 Julian and I had an arranged marriage. That year, I just graduated college. Ready to conquer the world in my chosen field. But I was told I had to marry the eldest son of the Vance family, four years my senior, stern and boring. To me, this marriage was a cage destroying my freedom. So, I resented my parents, the Vances, and especially Julian. After marriage, I never gave him a good face. Of course, he always faced me with an expressionless mask. We lived our rotten lives together. Later, I accidentally saw Julian staring at a photo in a daze. The figure in the photo was blurry, but I could tell it was a young girl. I suddenly understood. Julian was probably forced into this marriage just like me. From that day on. I stopped being hostile. But we still had nothing to say to each other. The atmosphere shifted from tense to extremely awkward. I started hating going home. But Julian seemed unaffected. He came home on time every day. Like a programmed robot butler: cooking, laundry, cleaning. Last week was my birthday. I partied until dawn. When I opened the door. I saw him sitting alone on the sofa, staring into space. Our eyes met… I clearly saw the dark circles under his eyes. He looked at me quietly, lips moving slightly as if to speak. But I was too afraid of the awkwardness and rushed upstairs. At the top of the stairs, I looked back. Julian was still sitting there. A rare look of unease on his face. Like a child who made a mistake, tugging at the hem of his shirt. I thought I was hallucinating from fatigue. … Back to the present. I found that post again. I clicked on the OP’s profile picture. A familiar, huge diamond ring flashed before my eyes. I pursed my lips, quickly pulled up my wedding photo with Julian, and zoomed in on the ring on his right hand— It was identical. I was in shambles. Julian loves me? How is that possible? He looks like he hates me more than I hate him! Coincidence. Must be a coincidence. Chapter 4 The next day was Saturday. I had a shopping date with my best friend, Lila. But because of the overtime and the discovery of Julian’s potential secret… I had insomnia. Hearing Lila roar on the phone: “Macy! If you aren’t out in an hour, you’re dead!” I scrambled out of bed, sporting dark circles, frantically searching for clothes. At this moment. Julian, having finished breakfast, walked past my door with a cup of coffee. Without his suit, he looked much gentler. Features still deep and handsome, hair styled in the slight curl I liked, lounge wear collar loose, revealing delicate collarbones. He walked past. Leaving a scent of pleasant cologne. I was dazed by his handsomeness for a second. Suddenly remembering last night’s guess. My mouth moved faster than my brain: “Julian, can you… come help me find a dress?” The moment the words fell. Julian froze. The coffee cup slipped from his hand, shattering on the floor with a loud crash. …Wow, what a reaction. I was a bit scared, lowering my eyes guiltily: “Ah, um, if not, then…” Before I finished. A shadow loomed over me. I looked up instinctively, meeting Julian’s eyes, surging with subtle undercurrents. “I can.” He said calmly. I was stunned. Before I could react. Julian was already standing stiffly in front of the closet, hands hanging uneasily by his sides. Clenching, releasing. Clenching, releasing. …He seemed very nervous.

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My mom is a low-level “pick-me girl.” She stole her cousin Sienna’s “life-saver” credit to get close to my dad, Sebastian Sterling, and then drugged him to have me. When she found out Dad was entering an arranged marriage, she panicked and prepared to cause trouble. To ensure we didn’t get discarded, I decided to take matters into my own hands. She staged a fall down the stairs to frame the fiancée, Zoe. I rushed into Mom’s arms and rolled down with her, crying: “I accidentally slipped! Mom fell trying to protect me!” Dad was heartbroken, and the Sterling family softened towards Mom. But Mom wouldn’t give up. She drugged Zoe and hired thugs. I pushed Mom into the room, knocked everyone out with gas, and beat them up. When Dad arrived, he saw Mom bruised and battered, “protecting” Zoe. Zoe was so moved she canceled the engagement and had her family adopt Mom as a goddaughter. Dad, feeling guilty and moved, fought his family, citing the “life-saving grace”—claiming he would have died without Mom. The Sterlings finally agreed to let Mom in. Mom wept with joy. But just as the engagement party was being prepared, Dad grabbed her wrist, eyes red. “Vivian! Sienna told me she was the one who saved me! Why did you lie?!” I frowned. Impossible! Didn’t my mom’s cousin die in a trafficking ring long ago? Chapter 1 Mom panicked completely, helpless. I rushed forward and pushed Dad. “Bad Daddy! Don’t bully Mommy!” I hugged Mom, “accidentally” pulling her collar, revealing a prominent butterfly tattoo on her shoulder. Dad saw the tattoo and frowned. He remembered when his savior dragged him out of the car, her shoulder was cut by broken glass. Right in that spot. His tone softened. “I will have this investigated. I won’t wrong you.” He left with tight lips. Mom turned pale, muttering. “Isn’t she dead? How did she come back?” I was confused too. A year ago, Grandpa took Mom and me to the police station to identify the body. The deceased was indeed Cousin Sienna. The blow was huge. Grandpa even did multiple DNA tests for his niece, all confirming it. How could she come back from the dead? Mom forced herself to comfort me to sleep. I closed my eyes, waiting until Mom fell asleep before sneaking into the basement. There, I kept samples of Cousin Sienna’s remains and biological materials! I took out a tooth I secretly kept and sent it to the lab for another test. I recalled Mom’s journey. The moment I transmigrated here, I knew Mom was a manipulative “pick-me,” but a clumsy one. Six years ago, she approached Dad claiming to be his savior. Then she drugged him and got pregnant with me. Dad didn’t say much. He let her have the child and paid child support, but nothing more. A year ago, Cousin Sienna blackmailed Mom with the truth about the accident. I learned then that Mom stole the credit! I was about to intervene. But Sienna acted possessed. She only extorted $20,000 from Mom and ran off with a college boy. The next news was the police notification to claim her body. Police said the boy was a trafficker. Sienna realized it, tried to save herself, and was killed. Mom felt guilty. For the past year, she compensated Great-Aunt’s family heavily. The DNA result came back quickly. I read it three times. The body claimed was Sienna, Mom’s biological cousin! I sighed in relief but was puzzled. Sienna didn’t know Dad before she died. So who was the “Sienna” Dad mentioned? And she knew about the life-saving grace! I went back to bed. Just then, Mom’s phone buzzed. I opened it and saw a blatant provocation. A photo of a woman’s back in Dad’s arms. Caption: [Vivian, you stole my credit and tried to marry into the Sterling family! I won’t let you succeed!] [The position of Mrs. Sterling belongs to me!] Chapter 2 I deleted the message and put the phone back. Mom is a low-level player. If she saw this, she’d lose her mind and do something stupid. Early the next morning, Zoe banged on our door. “Vivian! Do you know there’s a woman around Sebastian?” “Quick! I’ll take you to tear her apart!” Mom turned pale. “What’s her name?” Zoe gulped down some tea and slammed a file on the table. I peeked. Name: Sienna. Background, career, even elementary school grades—all detailed. It was exactly Cousin Sienna’s life resume! Just missing the “death” part. Included were photos of her intimate with Dad. One showed a clear face. It was Sienna’s face. Identical. How is this possible?! Mom and I rubbed our eyes simultaneously. Mom pinched my cheek. “Ouch!” I hissed. Mom snapped back to reality. “Not a dream! It’s really her!” A dead person, walking among the living! Zoe saw our strange expressions. “What’s wrong?” Mom smiled bitterly. “She’s my cousin.” She didn’t mention Sienna died. Maybe she wasn’t sure herself if the death was faked. “What?” Zoe was shocked. Then she gritted her teeth. “Rabbits don’t eat grass near their burrow! Your cousin is too much!” “Let’s go! They are on Fifth Avenue right now. I’ll take you to destroy that couple!” Zoe grabbed me and Mom, rushing to Fifth Avenue. Since Mom “saved” her, Zoe adored Mom. She broke off her engagement, made her family adopt Mom, and tried to set Mom up with Dad. The Zoe family was generous too, offering 5% shares as dowry if they married. Mom felt guilty, but being a “pick-me,” she let Zoe stay oblivious. Now, they were besties. Dragged to the mall, Zoe wanted to storm the plastic surgery clinic where they were. But Mom froze. She saw the woman inside! Identical to the dead Sienna! Mom gripped Zoe’s arm, trembling with fear. Zoe stopped, confused. Just then, Dad left with the woman. The woman seemed to sense something, looked back at us, and smirked coldly. Mom’s phone buzzed again. [Vivian, wait for me to expose your true face!] Mom turned white and almost collapsed. Zoe put me down to support her. I used the chance to run into the clinic. “Sister, that lady just now was so pretty! Is she getting work done?” The receptionist laughed. “No! She came to treat an old scar on her shoulder!” My heart sank. “She’s so beautiful! In your expert opinion, has she had plastic surgery?” Chapter 3 The receptionist paused, then smiled. “No! She’s all natural. I think she’s gorgeous too!” My heart hit rock bottom. Natural face! I thought maybe someone got surgery to look like Sienna. But the truth hit hard! I saw it clearly. Except for the short hair, it was definitely Sienna’s face! While I was dazed, Zoe and Mom found me. Mom hugged me, trembling. Zoe patted her chest. “Oh my god, you scared me. Your mom thought you were kidnapped.” I apologized. I knew Mom wasn’t scared of kidnappers. She was scared “Cousin Sienna” would hurt me. I was Mom’s biggest bargaining chip. For the next few days, Mom was a nervous wreck. Zoe didn’t come either. One gloomy day. I was contacting a PI. He sent photos of “Sienna” and Dad. They went to the accident site and checked surveillance footage. I frowned. I wondered what they found. After all, the person who pulled Dad out of the smoking car wasn’t Mom. Before I could reply, Knock knock knock. I opened the door to see Zoe’s grim face. She dropped a file without her usual loudness. “Vivian, was my kidnapping your doing?” Mom didn’t expect this exposure now. She blinked nervously. “What?” Her hands shook holding the file. I looked too. Evidence: Mom’s calls and transfers to the middleman. I spoke up. “Auntie Zoe, why investigate this now?” Zoe frowned, ignoring me, shouting at Mom. “Vivian, speak!” Mom trembled. I patted her hand. Just then, the door opened. Dad walked in, voice cold. “Coincidence. I also want to hear if she did it.” Mom’s legs gave out. She collapsed on the sofa. I ran to hug Dad’s leg. “Daddy, what are you asking?” “Are you interrogating Mommy? But on TV, they need witnesses and evidence. Where are yours?” Dad picked me up, eyes cold. “Oh? Mia thinks I wronged Mommy?” I pouted. “Just different from TV!” Zoe took a deep breath. “Vivian, I didn’t believe you were this kind of person either!” “Since Mia said so, I don’t want misunderstandings. I’ll find the witness. Hope you don’t disappoint me!” Dad smiled coldly. “Tomorrow. Bring them to the Estate. I have something related to Vivian too. Let’s settle it together!” Zoe nodded and left. Dad put me down heartlessly and left too. Mom collapsed, closing her eyes in despair. I pocketed a few chestnut hairs I grabbed from Dad’s shoulder. Mom, don’t worry. I’m here! That night, the DNA test between the hair and Great-Aunt arrived. I opened it confidently but froze. [Biological Parent-Child Relationship Confirmed]. Chapter 4 I blinked hard. Is she really Great-Aunt’s child? Impossible! I asked Mom seriously: “Did Great-Aunt only have one daughter?” Mom looked half-dead but answered. “Yes. She was injured during birth, could only have one.” I was confused. If that person is Sienna, who died? I pondered this all night until Dad took us to the Estate. The atmosphere was tense. Grandpa and Grandma sat in the main seats. Beside them, the Zoe parents. On the other side, Zoe, Dad, and Sienna. Two strangers stood below. A three-way trial. Seeing us, Sienna looked provoked and smirked. Victory flag. Zoe spoke first. “Vivian, I treated you like a sister. What did I do wrong to you?” Mom squeezed my hand, silent. I wasn’t panicked. I studied Sienna. Her eyelashes curved just like Cousin Sienna. Is she really Sienna? Did someone else die a year ago? What about the DNA tests on the body? While I spaced out, Dad spoke. “These two. One is the thug leader who tried to assault Zoe. The other is a witness to my accident.” Mom’s face paled with every word. Until Sienna spoke. “Cousin, do you remember who saved Sebastian back then?” Mom lost all strength, gasping like a dying fish. I let go of Mom’s hand and ran to Sienna. Left, right. “Auntie? Is it you? Didn’t you die a year ago?” Sienna’s mouth twitched. “I did die. Now I’m alive.” “Surprised?” I opened my mouth in shock. So brazen! Who is she! Dad pushed me away coldly. “Mia, behave if you don’t want to be kicked out!” Grandma sighed and picked me up. Sitting on Grandma’s lap, I stared at Sienna’s ear. Flash! I finally knew who she was! Zoe lost patience. “Vivian, confess or I’ll show all evidence! Speak!” Mom was bloodless. Bit her lip, silent. Zoe pointed at the thug. “You say it!” The thug stuttered. “She… she did transfer me money…”

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The diagnosis was cancer. Testicular cancer. The surgery—a radical orchiectomy—was performed by my own mother, Diana Westcott, the Chief of Surgery at Veridian City’s most prestigious hospital. I was barely out of the anesthesia when I heard the low voices of the assistant surgeon and a nurse. “Professor Westcott actually went through with it, tricking her own son just to appease the little foster darling.” “I know, right? And his wife, Blair, authorized it. They say he’s completely gutted now, missing two key parts. He’s ruined.” My body seized in a cold tremor. The first thing I did when I could move was try to crawl up and demand an explanation. My wife, Blair Kincaid, didn’t even flinch. She was tucked against Jude Ashton, her foster son, and the smile she gave me was utterly ruthless. “What’s wrong, Cal? You spent years mocking Jude for being frail and sickly. It’s about time you learned a lesson, don’t you think?” I stumbled forward, only to be shoved back onto the surgical table by my own mother. “Stop this nonsense, Calvin!” Diana’s voice was sharp with annoyance. “Jude’s story is heartbreaking. You have everything. Losing two small organs is a negligible price to pay for what you have.” My son, Brooks, the genius I’d raised, chimed in with a chillingly casual tone. “Seriously, Dad. Looking at you now, it’s about time you just let Mom go.” It was then, in that moment of absolute, soul-crushing betrayal, that the system—my long-dormant link to my real life—flickered back online. [Host, your Redemption Quest has been confirmed as complete. Do you wish to immediately initiate soul-return to your original world?] A slow, profoundly relieved smile stretched across my face. If this deep, all-consuming act of devotion and rescue was a lie from the very beginning, why should I care what happens to them? I hit the confirmation button instantly. The system’s cold, metallic voice was the sweetest sound I’d ever heard. [Soul-return confirmed. Upon your physical demise, everyone in this fictional world will be erased in three days. Initiating exit portal. Award: $700 Million USD plus permanent health confirmation in the original world.] … Hearing the reward, my heart was flooded with pure, ecstatic anticipation. Home. I staggered to my feet, the simple act of walking sending agonizing, post-surgical pain shooting through my body. I made for the window. I looked out at the glittering skyline of Veridian City. Millions of lights, yet not a single one had ever shone for me. That thought alone made me quicken my pace. A mocking voice sliced through the silence. I turned my head. It was my son, Brooks. “Dad, you should be resting. Why are you climbing up there?” He folded his arms, unimpressed. “You’re not an actor. Who are you putting on this dramatic ‘I’m going to end it all’ performance for?” “A performance?” I stared deeply into his face, searching for any flicker of genuine emotion. “Tell me, Brooks, who was really performing for whom?” His reply was effortless. “This is hardly a trick. It was a simple misdiagnosis by Grandma. You don’t have cancer, so you’re not going to die. You can stay right here with us. Isn’t that great news?” Oh, right. I was supposed to be celebrating the dismantling of the life I’d built. I turned back to the window. The night wind was a sharp, biting chill. I had stepped onto that surgical table to live. I was stepping onto this ledge to die and truly live again. Without hesitation, I leaned out, ready to fall. But the relief of the drop never came. Brooks had pressed the emergency call button and was now dragging me back, his teenage grip surprisingly strong. “Dad! What are you doing? Hold on to me!” “Let go,” I rasped, the word tearing out of my throat. Brooks clenched his jaw, veins popping in his neck. “I won’t!” “Dad, they’re just body parts. It’s not a big deal. Mom said she’d never abandon you, no matter what.” I was sick of their calculated lies. I thrashed my arms, trying to shake him off. His eyes went red with panic, and he pleaded through a sob, “Can you really bear to leave me, Dad? To die alone?” I looked up at the boy I had raised with my own hands. The terror in his eyes looked convincingly genuine. I yanked hard. My gaze was ice. “If you can’t bear to let me go, then come down and join me.” I pulled with all my strength, twisting his body outward. The blood drained from his face. He finally released his grip, his strength completely failing him. He was truly scared. I felt my body slowly slipping down, and just as I thought freedom was mine, a powerful force yanked me back. Security guards and nurses had rushed in, surrounding me. Damn it. I was one step too slow. Torn from the window, I collapsed on the bed, exhausted. Brooks was hysterical, shaking and weeping. Before I could fully process the failure, Blair burst into the room. She pushed through the crowd, stopping right beside me. Smack. The sound echoed. My head snapped to the side. “Are you insane, Cal?” Her eyes were bloodshot. She grabbed my collar, her face inches from mine. “Brooks is our flesh and blood! You tried to drag him to his death just to prove a point?! Calvin Westcott, how long are you going to keep this up? Do you have no heart at all?” I choked on the bitter irony of her question and let out a single, cold laugh. I have no heart? Who told me I had cancer? Who put me through pointless chemotherapy when I was perfectly healthy? Who ordered my body to be mutilated, all under the guise of treatment, just to appease the fragile feelings of her foster son? I managed a pained, hollow smile, looking at my own body, weakened and ravaged by unnecessary procedures. But I was too tired to explain. I simply didn’t care anymore. My silence seemed to fuel Blair’s impatience. She ordered the guards to lift me. “If you don’t want to be in this hospital, then you’re coming home with me!” Numbly, I allowed myself to be dragged and shoved into the car. Only one thought remained: I had to find a chance to completely escape this world. The lights of Veridian City flew by. The urban warmth was palpable, yet there was no place for me in that life. As the car sped up a desolate hillside road, I suddenly reached for the door handle. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?!” Blair roared, grabbing my arm. The driver swerved violently, the sedan carving a sickening arc on the road. I put all my remaining strength into pushing the door open. A blast of icy air flooded the car. Without a second thought, I pushed my weak body out. Just as I was about to tumble onto the asphalt, Blair, fueled by a terrifying, primal strength, yanked me back and pinned me down. The car, completely out of control, slammed violently into the mountainside guardrail. The impact threw us forward. Blair’s forehead hit the dashboard, and blood immediately streamed down her face. She fixed me with an icy, contained rage. “You want to die that badly?” I looked at her, my answer firm. “Yes.” She opened her mouth to say something else, but the acrid smell of gasoline hit our nostrils. Blair’s face paled. She looked for the driver, who had already abandoned the vehicle and fled. Panicked, she ignored the cut on her head and fought to pull me out. I had no survival instinct left, even hoping the flames would arrive sooner. “Just go. Leave me.” She didn’t hear me. She was frantically wrestling with the seat mechanism that had trapped my legs. When she finally pulled me free, her fingers were bloody, but she didn’t seem to feel the pain. She dragged my dead weight out of the wreck. The instant we cleared the car, there was a deafening explosion. A monstrous column of fire swallowed the expensive German sedan. The heat washed over us. Blair gasped for air, her eyes blazing red. “Let me tell you something, Calvin Westcott, and listen carefully.” “You do not get to die without my permission!” The scene was a chilling echo of years ago, when we were trapped in a blazing warehouse after a clash with a rival syndicate. I had taken a bullet for her, collapsing at her feet. Back then, she had cried and said: “Cal, hold on. I’m here. I won’t let you die.” I lived by that promise. I bled and fought for her, carving a path out of the shadows and using the full power of the Westcott name to help her become the unrivaled queen of Veridian City’s underworld and high society. Now, the same scenario only filled me with sickening irony. I don’t remember how I got back to the penthouse suite. As soon as we walked in, the warm, jovial atmosphere hit me—a stark contrast to my own frozen state. Jude Ashton was there, blowing on a bowl of artisanal bone broth. My mother, Diana, hovered behind him, her eyes full of doting concern. “Slow down, Jude. Don’t burn yourself.” “You’re too thin, sweetheart. You need to gain some weight.” Seeing us, particularly Blair, covered in blood and soot, Jude rushed over. “Blair, what happened? You’re hurt!” He glanced at me—a quick look of contempt, which he instantly softened into pity. “It must be Cal. Don’t be too hard on him. He probably can’t accept… the reality of his condition. We need to be compassionate.” I couldn’t stop myself. I lunged and landed a solid punch on his jaw. “Shut up! What right do you have to stand there and play the saint?” Jude stumbled back, shock and pain evident in his eyes. Almost simultaneously, my mother threw herself forward, slapping me hard, and pulling Jude protectively behind her. “Enough!” she shrieked. “Look at you! You’re supposed to be the heir to the Westcott name. We indulged you too much, and now you think you can terrorize Jude! A simple orchiectomy was meant to teach you discipline. Instead, you throw a suicidal tantrum!” I stared at her, the woman who had once loved me fiercely, and asked the question that killed my last ounce of hope. “Is this why you lied about my having a fatal illness? To put me through that just for him?” She didn’t answer. Guilt? No, maybe just a twisted sense of righteousness. When I entered this world, Diana was a grieving widow, constantly fighting off rivals who wanted to seize my father’s empire. The System sent me to ‘redeem’ her. For a long time, we were each other’s salvation. I had even considered giving up my mission to stay. But the moment I brought in Jude—the poor, smart medical student I’d sponsored—everyone around me turned. My slightest criticism of Jude was instantly interpreted as abuse or jealousy. They would willingly see me crippled and hurt just to appease him. I let out a bitter laugh and reached for the silver letter opener on the coffee table. I failed again. Blair reacted like lightning, snatching the opener away. “Calvin Westcott, are you addicted to using death as a bargaining chip?” Her tone was frigid. She jammed the point of the opener back into my hand, pressing it against her own chest. “If you want to die, you have to kill me first! Go on. Do it! I dare you!” I released the opener, my arm falling uselessly to my side. “Why, Blair? Why do this?” She stared at me, stubbornly defiant. “Cal, I know you still care about me. Just stop antagonizing Jude. Even if you can’t… be a man in the traditional sense, you will always be my husband.” The air thickened with silent contempt. In the next second, my mother stepped forward and yanked the heavy, engraved signet ring—the heirloom symbolizing the Westcott inheritance—from my finger. Her eyes were filled with cold disappointment. “In this state, you are utterly unfit to be the Westcott heir.” The words that followed were the final nail in the coffin. “When you and your father were in that accident, I had to choose who lived. If I had known you would become this soft, suicidal man, I never should have saved you.” My heart didn’t just break; it dissolved. Lying on the cold marble floor, I laughed until tears streamed down my face. Right in front of me, Diana placed the signet ring into Jude’s hand. That night, I was locked away in the panic room—the reinforced cellar—to prevent any further attempts at escape or death. Jude used “psychological therapy” as an excuse to gain unrestricted access to me. “Jude, Cal’s very unstable right now. You’re a doctor. I’m relying on you to keep him calm,” Blair said, massaging her temples, relieved to pass off the responsibility. But she didn’t see the veneer drop the moment the heavy steel door closed. Jude kicked me, aiming for the area of my recent surgery, forcing me to look at him. “You know what, Calvin? I always hated that arrogant, high-and-mighty look on your face.” He leaned closer, his voice a mocking whisper. “Now, you’re not even a man. What gives you the right to compete with me anymore?” I struggled weakly. He simply chuckled and plunged a cold needle into my arm. “Don’t worry, big brother. You want to die, but I won’t let you. I will keep you alive. And I will make you so weak, you’ll live under my shadow like a perfectly obedient dog.” I lost track of how many days passed. Then, Brooks crept in, holding a takeout container of artisanal soup, his eyes widening at the sight of my skeletal, wasted body. Perhaps the sight of my living death finally triggered some guilt. His eyes were red. He clumsily spooned the soup to my lips. “Dad… please, just eat something.” I turned my head away from the spoon, only able to manage a faint, broken whisper. “… just let me die…” Brooks’s hand, holding the spoon, trembled violently. My refusal felt like a personal insult to him. His face instantly contorted with anger. “Always this! You use this hunger strike to make us suffer! To make Mom and me feel guilty, right?” I closed my eyes, trying to block out the flood of memories: his face when he slept, the contented expression; tossing him up and down while he squealed, “Daddy is Superman!” I relinquished it all. I didn’t want any of it. After a long silence, I squeezed a single word from my throat. “Get out.” Brooks’s tears finally spilled over. He spun around and ran out. He didn’t close the door properly. Perhaps it was a final burst of adrenaline, but I found the strength to drag myself, inch by painful inch, out of the cellar. The main hall was brightly lit, buzzing with people. It was their victory party. Center stage, the three people I had loved were gathered around Jude Ashton, forming a perfect, happy family portrait. Jude, the triumphant victor, was wearing a bespoke suit, holding my father’s Westcott signet ring. “Jude, from this day forward, all the Westcott assets and influence in Veridian City belong to you,” Diana announced to the gathered guests, patting his shoulder. Blair stood beside him, leaning delicately against his chest, and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You deserve this, Jude.” Even my son, Brooks, looked up at him with clear admiration. “Thank you, Uncle Jude, for taking such good care of our family.” Rage obliterated the last of my sanity. I scrambled down the last flight of stairs. “Give it back to me!” I lunged at Jude, desperate to grab the ring. In the struggle, the heavy, engraved crest shattered into two pieces. The hall went silent. A second later, Jude began to laugh—a triumphant, cruel sound. “Hahaha! Even the heirloom rejects you, you useless cripple!” Blair threw me off her foster son, and I crashed into a tall pyramid of champagne glasses. She put Jude behind her and faced the stunned crowd, her expression terrifyingly cold. “Please excuse us, ladies and gentlemen.” “My husband… he’s had a difficult time accepting the physical changes after his cancer surgery. He’s been receiving psychiatric treatment.” In a few quick sentences, she publicly branded me as a volatile madman. Whispers rippled through the crowd. “He’s actually insane? No wonder…” “Ms. Kincaid is so strong, managing the empire and having to carry that dead weight.” “Young Master Jude is a godsend. It’s right that Diana gave him the ring.” The cutting words finally stopped my struggle. I stopped crying. I stopped lashing out. I simply looked at them. “Blair Kincaid,” I said, my voice flat. “One should never forget one’s origins. Have you forgotten how I built you into the woman you are today?” Then, I turned to Diana. “Mother… no, Ms. Westcott. Do you truly think simply wearing my father’s name gives you the right to steal his legacy? You know how much he loved you. Yet you betray his memory and trick your own flesh-and-blood, leaving me a castrated shell, all for an imposter. Does your conscience let you sleep at night?” The hall erupted in commotion. The family advisors looked uneasy. I reached out, my fingers closing around a handgun a security guard had foolishly left holstered on his hip. Without a moment of doubt, I pressed the muzzle to my temple and smiled—a final, genuine, liberated smile. The sound of the shot was deafening. I heard the System’s cold prompt one last time. [Physical demise detected. Initiating exit portal immediately.]

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In the seventh year of my relationship with Julian Vance, the new drama he starred in exploded overnight. The Shippers of him and the heroine invaded the comment section of my, an amateur girlfriend’s Instagram: “Hurry up and give Julian to someone more suitable.” “The one not loved is the third party, sister you are really superfluous.” “If you don’t break up, we will scold you until you do.” I was so angry I wanted to delete my account. Julian laughed at me for making a fuss, “They just haven’t moved on from the drama.” Later, at every promotional event for the new drama, Julian and the heroine would look at each other and shed tears. When the host asked about feelings, the heroine cried and said: “The order of appearance in life is really important.” Julian sighed, raised his hand and touched her head. That night I proposed a breakup. Julian frowned and explained to me, “She just hasn’t moved on.” “Mm.” “I didn’t cheat.” “Okay.” He didn’t understand, “Then why break up?” I smiled, “Julian Vance, I just suddenly feel it’s meaningless, thoroughly meaningless.” Chapter 1 Julian seemed not to hear me clearly. After a moment of silence, he said lightly: “I want to hear the real reason.” I shrugged, “This is it.” He stared into my eyes, thinking he saw through my mind. “Layla, it’s nothing more than because of what happened during the day, you started being suspicious again, right?” Julian emphasized the word “again”. Indeed, I used to suffer from gains and losses due to lack of security. Especially in the last two years, Julian’s career was on the rise. Once he entered the set, he wouldn’t reply to messages or answer calls. Where he was filming, who he partnered with, he never told me. Many times, I relied on scrolling Twitter, learning Julian’s recent situation from paparazzi roadshows. In those videos, hugging, holding, kissing, were all common meals. I often watched and watched, uncontrollably imagining him being intimate with others, and then suffered insomnia. Maybe I was too petty. A few times I couldn’t hold back, called over, and was coldly hung up by Julian. Next time we met, he always criticized me first time: “I said many times, I need to get into character, completely immerse in the script, can’t be disturbed by outside people and things. “As a professional actor’s girlfriend, you must understand me, support me, not cause trouble, understand?” Chapter 2 I have tried my best not to cause trouble. Only once, haven’t seen for more than three months, I missed Julian too much. I inquired about the schedule in advance, confirmed he wasn’t filming that day before going to visit. To bring his favorite pastries, I queued for three hours. Result caught up with heavy rain. The crew temporarily moved a heavy rain scene to that day. Because of my intrusion, Julian’s kissing scene couldn’t get into state, NG several times. He always treated people properly and thoughtfully, temper extremely good. Worried about causing trouble to everyone, kept apologizing. Only vented anger on me. Even threw the pastries I bought. “Layla, who let you come? Take your broken stuff, go!” My tears swirled in eye sockets. “Julian Vance, you bastard, you only know how to fierce me! “Seeing you busy, I immediately went to the lounge to wait, where exactly did I hinder you? “I don’t want to date you anymore! Break up!” Hearing “break up” two words, Julian paused for two seconds. He clenched fists, restraining full anger. Pressed me on the chair to kiss, kissing and biting, fierce terribly. “Quarrel is quarrel, dare you casually mention break up later?” Today, Julian wanted to repeat the old trick. I stepped back. Let him pounce on empty air. Julian pinched his brow center, patiently continued to explain: “Tara is a newcomer, young, just can’t get out of character for a while, is it wrong? “All colleagues, colleague cried I comfort a bit, is it wrong? “Can you not always suspect me, making me look like a scumbag, I have great mental pressure…” He chattered endlessly. I didn’t listen to a word. Mind recalling the live broadcast during the day. After Julian and Tara looked at each other for a long time, both cried into tears. I don’t understand. In the drama, the ending of male and female leads is happy and perfect. Outside drama, ratings soared all the way, receiving countless praises. What exactly are they crying for? Julian subconsciously wanted to help Tara wipe tears, hand raised halfway felt inappropriate, changed to touching head. A detail made Shippers edit countless videos. Caption: [Your tears are still on face, but I no longer have the identity to wipe them.] If before, I would be extremely jealous, let Julian coax me. But current me won’t. Turns out when relationship reaches end, really like a pool of dead water, can’t stir up waves. “You are not wrong okay, Julian Vance. “But today I just want to break up.” Chapter 3 My stubbornness exhausted Julian’s patience. He was in a hurry to catch a flight, no time to pull with me, only left a sentence: “You calm down yourself first.” This is his most common way to solve problems between us. Just hands off and ignore. Next time meet again, two people kiss hug tired for a while, treat previous quarrel as never happened. With him, not mentioning means passed. But with me, every stroke is remembered. Few days later, I signed a shop transfer contract. “Miss Layla, I see your business usually very good, why not doing it?” I looked at the flower shop in front of me, still very reluctant. After all, poured my effort of several years here. “Because I am about to leave Los Angeles.” Me and Julian are both from San Francisco. Back then he went north to build career, I quit job followed him to LA. At beginning we were very poor, lived in a ten square meter single room, monthly rent six hundred fifty, window only half above ground. Always passersby curiously peeking into window. LA so prosperous. And we were like rats living in gutter. Winter here cold to bone. I bought a second-hand heater, contact bad caught fire at midnight. Julian heard news, borrowed friend’s car, drove seven hours night road back. He this person, put almost all emotions into acting. Usually treat people things lightly. But that time, he hugged me cried almost alkalosis. “Layla, is me useless, let you suffer with me. “I will be red, I will earn lots lots money later, love you cherish you whole life!” Seven years passed. Julian’s career rose step by step, conflicts between us also more and more. No way. I am a person extremely anxious about intimate relationships. And Julian happens to be an actor. His job requires filming many intimate scenes, requires stuffing his soul into another identity, imagining loving others as the character in the play. Once he filmed an intense kissing scene with an actress. That part was exactly the famous scene where male and female leads emotional entanglement deepest. Two people both kissed to tears, uncontrollably hugged together kissed for long time, didn’t even hear director shout cut. Finally both fell on bed, bodies sticking, tearing clothes. Those behind were not in script. Were subconscious reactions after true feelings revealed. Director couldn’t stop applauding, “Good, this part added good, looks like really moved.” Just so coincidence, that day was Julian’s birthday, I specially brought gift to find him. Honestly speaking, seeing that scene, I was very uncomfortable. But no way. This is his job. Even I get angry, jealous, all appear unreasonable. Lack of security, made me anxious, sensitive, controlling desire bursting. While Julian showered, I secretly checked his phone. Discovered. He was very angry. “Layla, are you sick? Are you idle panic? Don’t you have your own things to do?” Fatal three questions. Back then was him coaxed me quit job come LA, said just like me sticking to him, want raise me whole life. After that day, I took out all savings opened this flower shop. Come every day, wind rain not stop. Let myself busy. Then no time to tangle, Julian want kiss who today, intimate scene can shoot to what scale, will have physiological reaction, what if he really can’t get out of character fall in love with others… Chapter 4 Already passed rush hour. Way home, subway empty. Two girls sat next to me, staring at phone, face hanging aunt smile. “Bet or not, Julian and Tara definitely moved heart outside drama too, this kind subconscious approach body movement can’t fool people.” “Doesn’t Julian have girlfriend?” “Think about it, one side is girlfriend dated seven years, old pearl yellow no freshness, other side is fresh beautiful glamorous female star, if you are Julian, who you like?” I silently took out small mirror, looked at myself. I was at least prom queen back then. Not to point of old pearl yellow right. Actually Julian publicizing relationship was forced by me. At beginning, he said didn’t hope bring too much personal life to screen to discuss. So that insiders didn’t know he had girlfriend. There were chasing him, introducing objects to him. Even wanting unspoken rules him. I therefore threw a big temper, “Do you exactly think unnecessary, or think I can’t be shown, don’t want give up your single persona?” Julian scolded me unreasonable. But still announced my existence on Twitter: [Happy 7th Anniversary, Girlfriend @Layla] Late night, #JulianAnnounceRelationship and #JulianTara simultaneously on trending. Because their CP fans wrote a explosive post overnight—— [You are my madness wandering outside secular order.] Summarized all ambiguous interactions of two cooperating till now. In post, they two like hard fate mandarin ducks love but can’t get, and I am the bully blocking their two-way rush. They said Julian only because responsibility, didn’t choose break up with me such mediocre girlfriend. Tara online late night. Like, cancel, post saying hand slipped. All in one go. Even specially @me: [Sister-in-law don’t mind, another day beautiful date meal together @Layla] As if very familiar with me. But I simply don’t know her. Julian advised me don’t overthink, “Tara very simple little girl, she just afraid you awkward.” I subconsciously asked: “She simple, then me?” “You?” Julian hooked lip corner, “Alright Layla, compare what with young little girl.” His tone carried doting. Clearly Tara only two years younger than me.

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On the way to inspect our new house, a heavily made-up woman suddenly rushed out and blocked our car. She kicked the hood fiercely, angrily demanding me to get out. I was about to call 911, but my husband hurriedly opened the car door, took off his jacket and draped it over her: “Sweetheart, it’s windy here, why did you run out wearing so little?” I wanted to get out and ask what was going on, but my husband blocked the door tightly: “Don’t come down! You’ll scare her, she’s timid!” The woman nestled in his arms, pointing at my nose and screaming: “You old hag! Julian promised this house to me, what right do you have to dictate!” “If you know what’s good for you, get out quickly, Julian’s money and love have long been mine!” Hearing this, I laughed. His money? What an interesting mistress, then let’s play a high-stakes game! Chapter 1 Julian patted her back to smooth her breath, while turning his head to say to me: “Valerie, you drive the car away first, I’ll go back and explain to you later.” I sat in the passenger seat, looking at the man who once vowed to love me forever, now carefully protecting the mistress in his arms. My heart felt like it was tightly gripped by a big hand, painful enough to make me breathless. Back then, to give birth to his child, I had a difficult labor and massive hemorrhage, damaged nerves, and was paralyzed abroad for treatment for full three years. The moment I could finally stand up, I chose to return immediately. But I didn’t expect, not long after returning, Julian actually gave me such a big gift. I didn’t drive away, instead pushed open the car door. Julian didn’t expect me to come down, stunned for a moment. Seeing me come down, that woman not only didn’t hide, but broke free from Julian’s arms, raised her chin and walked up to me. Looking closely, I found she was actually very young, face full of collagen, just eyes full of greed. “What are you looking at? Paralyzed for three years and still not dead, really tough life.” She looked me up and down, a mocking smile on her lips, “Don’t look at yourself now, although you can walk, I can smell that medicine scent from two meters away. Julian has to act with you every day, I feel tired for him.” I raised my hand and gave a slap. “Smack”, crisp and melodious. The world instantly quieted down. Julian was stunned, the woman was also stunned. “You… you dare hit me?” The woman covered her face, staring wide-eyed in disbelief. “Hitting you is what I do.” I shook my hand, tone calm, “Mouth not clean, I had to educate you for your parents.” “Ah! Julian! She hit me! Look at her!” The woman instantly collapsed, screaming and pouncing into Julian’s arms, that posture as if she suffered a huge grievance. Julian was heartbroken, hugged her, turned his head and glared at me angrily. “Valerie! Are you crazy? Serena is just a child! How can you hit people?” “Child?” I laughed in anger, “A child who can climb onto someone else’s husband’s bed? Julian Hale, your taste is quite unique.” The woman screamed wanting to come over and hit me, Julian looked at me with a mocking face. Sighed, bent down and picked the woman up horizontally. “She is not calm now, I’ll take her away first, explain specific details to you later!” Finished, he held the woman named Serena, strode to stop a taxi, and left without looking back. Leaving me alone on the road, next to the car with a smashed hood. People around were already watching, taking photos, pointing fingers. I took a deep breath, suppressing the sourness in my eyes. Just then, the phone rang. I glanced at the strange number, answered. “Hello, old hag.” The woman’s triumphant laughter came from the other end, “See? Julian cares about me.” “If you know what’s good for you, obediently become invisible, don’t disturb us. Otherwise, I have plenty of ways to make your life worse than death!” I was lazy to listen to her screaming, hung up directly. Then called a tow truck, sent the car to the dealership, then took a taxi back to the Hale family mansion. In-laws were sitting in the living room watching TV, seeing me back, no expression on their faces. “Dad, Mom.” I called out. Mother-in-law didn’t even lift her eyelids: “Back? Julian? Not with you?” “He went to accompany Serena.” I said straightforwardly. Air in the living room instantly solidified. Father-in-law put down the newspaper in hand, mother-in-law also finally turned to look at me. No surprise on their faces, only indifference. “Oh, that girl.” Mother-in-law lightly flicked her fingernails, “Julian mentioned to us, quite a lively child.” My heart instantly cooled halfway. Turns out, whole family knew, only me kept in the dark like a fool. “Mom, Julian cheated, you guys knew long ago?” I asked. Mother-in-law frowned, seemed dissatisfied with my wording: “What cheating not cheating, said so ugly. Men, acting on occasion outside is normal. Besides, you treated illness abroad for three years, Julian holding this family alone how hard, having someone knowing cold knowing hot beside him what’s wrong?” “As long as he doesn’t bring her home, doesn’t shake your position as the main wife, you just turn a blind eye. Our two families are allied by marriage, interest is the first priority.” Father-in-law also chimed in: “Yes, Valerie. You have to be generous, don’t make the family restless because of this small matter.” Generous? Small matter? I looked at these two cold faces, suddenly felt incredibly disgusting. I didn’t even want to say one more word. “Understood.” I turned and left. Since you talk interest with me, then we talk interest. I sent a message to Carter: “Carter, help me check all asset transfer situations under Julian Hale’s name, and the background of that woman named Serena beside him. As fast as possible.” Carter was the lawyer my mother trusted most before she passed away, and the only person in this world I can fully trust. Chapter 2 Ten o’clock at night, Julian finally came back. He pushed open the bedroom door, saw me sitting by the bed, stunned for a moment, then walked over, sat on the sofa opposite me. Depressive atmosphere spread in the room. He lowered his head, rubbing his face with both hands, a look of guilty conscience. “Valerie, sorry.” This was his first sentence after entering the door. I looked at him, mind flashed back to when I was 18, he confessed to me on the playground. He was so clean, so sincere then. Current him, makes me feel strange. “Sorry for what?” I asked. “I’m sorry to you.” His voice hoarse, “These three years, I was really tired. Serena she… she gave me a different feeling. She is not as strong as you, she relies on me, makes me feel like a man.” I strong? I almost laughed out loud. For his career, I gave up opportunities for further study, willing to be the woman behind him. Even to give him children, I almost lost my life. Finally, in his eyes became strong. “So, this is your reason for cheating?” Julian raised his head, eyes red: “I had no choice. I don’t want to hurt you, nor hurt Serena. I love both of you, I can’t give up either.” “I thought about it, later I will double good to you, make up for your three years of bitterness. Serena said she doesn’t want status, just wants to stay by my side. I will try hard to balance your relationship, absolutely won’t let you suffer grievance.” Listen, what touching words. Want to enjoy the blessing of having both? Dream on! “Julian Hale, let’s divorce.” I spoke calmly, “Since you can’t give up, then I fulfill you guys.” Julian stood up abruptly, face full of shock: “Divorce? Impossible! I absolutely won’t divorce!” “I married you, will be responsible for you for a lifetime! Besides you were paralyzed for three years because giving birth to my child, if I divorce you, people will poke my spine and scold me to death!” “Also, cooperation between our two families is in critical period, divorcing at this time, stocks will hit limit down! Can you be sensible?” I looked at his exasperated look, only felt ironic. Turns out not divorcing not because of love, is because afraid of being scolded, afraid of stock falling. “Then what do you want? Really plan red flag not fall at home, colorful flags fluttering outside?” “As long as you don’t make trouble, we can live very well!” Julian urgently wanted to convince me, “Serena is very simple, she won’t threaten your status. You just treat her as non-existent…” Just then, his phone rang. Julian glanced at the screen, face changed instantly. He didn’t even greet me, answered phone while walking out: “Hello, baby? What’s wrong? Nightmare? Don’t fear don’t fear, I come immediately…” Door closed with a “Bang”. Room only left me alone. I walked to the window, watching Julian’s car speeding away downstairs. For that woman, he can abandon me anytime anywhere. Very good. Julian Hale, since you are unkind, don’t blame me for being unjust. This divorce, I am determined. But before that, I want you and that “simple” Serena, pay the price. Chapter 3 Next morning early, I went to Hale Group. Although I haven’t been to the company for three years, I still own 20% shares of Hale Group, member of the board. Seeing me appear, front desk girl jumped scared, quickly called CEO office. I ignored those inquiring gazes, went directly to finance department. First thing I want to do, is check accounts. However, finance director hemmed and hawed, told me without Mr. Hale’s signature, no one can check accounts. Expected. Julian guards against me like guarding against a thief. I didn’t force it, turned and went to nearby luxury mall. Since can’t check company accounts, then spend his money first. I picked a newly listed emerald necklace in jewelry store, priced $290,000. If before, I would think too expensive, reluctant to buy. But now, I think too cheap. “Wrap it up.” I handed out a Black Card. This was five years ago on our wedding anniversary, Julian gave me, said unlimited supplementary card. Sales girl smiled ear to ear, took card with both hands to swipe. Few seconds later, smile on sales girl’s face froze. “This… this lady, sorry, your card declined.” “What?” I stunned. “Shows insufficient balance.” Sales girl carefully handed card back. Insufficient balance? Unlimited card how can insufficient balance? Only explanation is, main card limit set, or directly stopped supplementary card usage right. Julian! You actually stopped my card! Just when I holding card in daze, behind came sound of high heels clicking on marble. “Yo, isn’t this Mrs. Hale? What, can’t afford?” Serena carrying a Hermès walked over. She wore Haute Couture today, full body jewelry, even hair strands revealed exquisiteness. In comparison, me wearing old style trench coat, indeed appeared shabby. “Little Chen ah, wrap up this necklace, and those few rings, bracelets over there, all for me.” Serena didn’t even look at price, casually pointed few things. Sales girl saw big client coming, immediately left me aside, ran over eagerly: “Miss Serena, you really have taste! These are all new arrivals! Total $588,000.” Serena didn’t blink, took out a black card from bag handed over. Exactly same as mine. “Swipe it.” She proudly raised chin, provocatively looked at me, “Where man’s money is, heart is there. Some people holding waste card still want pretend rich wife, really laughing to death.” I sneered, backhand took out phone, dialed 911. “Hello, police? I want to report a crime. Someone stole my husband’s card stealing money, huge amount, about few millions.” “Address is Star Moon Mall first floor jewelry store. That thief still on scene, please come immediately.” Finished, I hung up, looked at Serena coldly. Serena stunned, then burst into sharp laughter. “Call police? You actually call police catch me?” “Mrs. Hale, are you sick in brain? This card Julian gave me! Spending my man’s money is justified! Police come can do what to me?” “Instead you, false report police is going to jail!” She not afraid at all, even more arrogant. She took out phone call Julian: “Hubby! Your that old hag crazy! She call police catch me! Say I steal your card!” “You come quickly! I want you personally slap her face rotten! If don’t see you in twenty minutes, ignore you forever!” Police came very fast. Two officers walked in, face serious: “Who called police?” “Me.” I stepped forward, “Officer, is this woman, stole my husband’s card.” Serena still picking earrings there, seeing police came, not only not afraid, instead rolled eyes: “Officer, don’t listen to this crazy woman nonsense. This card my boyfriend gave me.” Officer looked at me: “What relationship you two?” I took out phone, pulled out electronic marriage certificate: “I am Julian Hale’s legal wife. Owner of this card is Julian Hale. I never agreed let this woman use our couple joint property.” Officers looked at each other, expression became complex. “This lady, please show ID, follow us to station investigate.” Officer said to Serena. “I not go! Based on what catch me!” Serena slapped card on counter, “Wait my boyfriend come you will know! He will call your chief!” Voice just fell, Julian panted rushing in. Entering door, he didn’t even look at me, directly rushed to Serena, protected her behind. “Serena, you okay right? They didn’t do anything to you right?” Serena saw backer came, confidence fuller. “Julian! You finally came! This bitch brought police catch me! Say I steal your card! Also want send me to jail! You hurry slap her for me!” Julian heard, instantly furious. He turned around, fiercely glared at me: “Valerie! Have you messed enough! I said I will handle this, you insist make thing big right? Don’t you feel shameful?” “Shameful?” I sneered, “Julian Hale, who exactly is shameful? You use couple joint property raise mistress, also stopped my supplementary card let her swipe millions, you still want face?” Eating melon crowd around more and more, pointing fingers. Julian probably felt losing face, lowered voice roared: “What couple joint property! That is money I earned! I want give who spend give who! You shut up for me!” He turned to police smile apologetic: “Officer, misunderstanding, all misunderstanding. This card indeed I gave my girlfriend use, not theft. This is family dispute, we solve ourselves fine.” “Girlfriend?” Officer frowned looking at him, “This lady says you are legal couple.” Julian face stiff, awkwardly coughed: “Processing divorce, processing.” “Not divorced is couple.” Officer straight face, “Since card owner himself said gave voluntarily, then not constitute theft. But, this sir, since not divorced yet, large amount property gift indeed involves couple joint property issue, suggest you go legal procedure.” Serena hearing this instantly drilled out from behind Julian, rushed over want slap my face. “Dead bitch! Dare call police catch me! I let you call! I let you call!” I long prepared, sideways dodged, backhand a slap returned. But I forgot, Julian still beside. My hand just waved out, caught dead tight by Julian. His strength big, pinched my wrist painful. “Valerie! You still want hit people? Who gave you courage!” He fiercely pushed, I wearing high heels stood unstable, directly hit glass counter behind. Lower back severe pain, I muffled hum. Serena seeing this, took chance rush up, long nails directly scratch my face. “I scratch your face flower! Let you seduce men!” Hiss—— Face burning pain. Julian not only didn’t stop, instead pressed me on counter, let Serena vent anger. “Serena, vented anger? Don’t hurt hand.” That moment, last trace expectation in my heart, completely disappeared. Police hurried up pull fight. “Doing what! Fight in front of police! All take back!”

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