Category: English

I came home from work and had just stepped one foot inside when strange text popped up in front of my eyes: [DON’T GO IN! Your obsessive ex-boyfriend is here to kill you. The second you’re inside, he’ll turn you into a human pincushion! RUN!] [Well, the side character brought this on herself. She knew the guy has major abandonment issues, but she still drained his wallet dry and then dumped him. Serves her right for being a gold digger!] I was terrified, but also completely bewildered. I’ve been single my entire twenty-five years of life. When the hell did I become a money-grubbing scammer?! While I was still frozen in shock, a pale, slender hand shot out from the darkness, clamped around my arm, and yanked me into the apartment. 1 The moment the door clicked shut, the cold edge of a blade pressed against my neck. A man’s voice, dark and unhinged, whispered in my ear. “Baby, wasn’t I good to you? Why did you break up with me?” I fought back the urge to scream, my voice trembling as I spoke. “Sir, I think you have the wrong person. I’ve been single my whole life. I’ve never even been in a relationship.” Not even online! He got angry. The pressure on the knife increased, its sharp tip piercing my skin. “What did you just say, baby?” [This girl is so dumb. The guy has been abandoned his whole life; it’s his biggest trigger. And she’s denying their online relationship? She’s practically begging him to kill her!] [Yeah, if she just begged him to take her back now, he might actually spare her.] Panic seized me. I decided to trust the pop-ups and started to cry. “I’m-I’m sorry. I didn’t really want to break up.” A cold laugh echoed in the dark. “What was that, baby? I don’t think I heard you.” I choked back a sob and repeated, “I don’t want to break up.” “Do you really mean it?” I nodded furiously. “Yes!” His tone brightened instantly. “Alright then. I’ll give you one last chance.” I nodded like my life depended on it. But he didn’t let me go. He tied my hands and feet with a rope he’d brought with him and tossed me onto the sofa. Then he sat down on a low stool in front of me, staring at me in the pitch-black room without saying a word. His gaze sent shivers down my spine, and my body wouldn’t stop trembling. I knew what he was thinking: Should I kill her? When should I kill her? Even though I was certain he had the wrong person, I didn’t dare bring it up again. 2 I’d needed to use the restroom when I got home, and after holding it for half an hour, I couldn’t stand it anymore. I stammered, “Can I… can I please use the bathroom?” He didn’t answer at first. After about five seconds, he stood up abruptly without a word. I jumped, instinctively shrinking into the corner of the sofa. He loomed over me. My fear peaked. Just as a scream was about to tear from my throat, he scooped me up into his arms and carried me toward the bathroom. He set me down in front of the toilet, cut the ropes on my hands with his knife, and walked out, closing the door behind him before I could say a thing. I knew he was waiting right outside, but I had no choice. It was better than wetting myself. I briefly considered trying to fight back, but quickly gave up the idea. I didn’t have the skills to overpower him. Any sudden moves would just get me killed faster. After slowly washing my hands, I took a deep breath and called out, “I’m done.” He still didn’t bother to reply, simply pushing the door open and walking in. He carried me back to the sofa and tied my hands again. Just when I thought he would go back to his stool, he leaned over me once more. My heart stopped, my breath catching in my throat. He traced my lips with his thumb, the pressure gradually increasing. His heavy breathing was loud in the silent darkness. My scalp tingled with fear. I was terrified he was about to assault me, but then a twisted thought crossed my mind: if sleeping with him would make him spare my life, maybe I could accept it. Turns out, I was overthinking it. It wasn’t lust in his eyes. It was murder. “What have I ever denied you? Why did you have to break up with me?” My throat felt tight. “I’m… I’m sorry,” I managed to say. “It won’t happen again.” He let out a hollow chuckle, though whether it was at my expense or his own, I couldn’t tell. Thankfully, he didn’t torture me further and returned to his stool. I let out a long, shaky breath. [He came here ready to kill her, but now he can’t bring himself to do it. This guy is down bad.] [He’s always been pathetic. He knew she was a gold digger but still willingly threw money at her. He wouldn’t have snapped if she hadn’t suddenly broken up with him.] The pop-ups were right. He was pathetically devoted. But I wasn’t the one who scammed him! This was all a horrible mistake. With that thought, I decided to try one last time. I took a deep breath, mustering my courage. “Do you even know my name?” He looked up at me, his voice a slow, mocking drawl. “Thea. Twenty-five years old. Graduated from City University. Five-foot-four, about a hundred and ten pounds. Allergic to shellfish, hates snails…” The flicker of hope in my heart died with every word he spoke. All the information was correct. Unless I had amnesia, someone had stolen my identity and started a relationship with him. Someone who knew me very, very well. Who? Who would do this to me? 3 The room fell into a deathly silence again, so quiet I could hear my own frantic heartbeat. I couldn’t stand the silent torment. Despair began to creep in. “I’ve been single my whole life,” I sobbed. “I’ve never been in a relationship, not even online. If you don’t believe me, you can check my phone.” He turned his head, his gaze piercing through the darkness. Even though I couldn’t see his expression, I knew he was seconds away from killing me. [She’s really not afraid to die, is she? Still denying she ever dated him.] [I’m a little worried blood is gonna splash on my screen.] [Don’t say that, I’m scared he’s about to snap.] I didn’t dare say another word, my fear dissolving into quiet whimpers. He watched me for a moment, then looked away. He pulled my phone from his pocket, slipped on a pair of gloves, and demanded, “Password.” I blinked, a spark of hope igniting. “552233,” I said quickly. His goal was clear. He opened my forum app first, scrolling through my profile page. He was too far away for me to see what he was looking for. After two minutes, his frantic scrolling slowed to a stop. He stared intently at the screen. My heart leaped into my throat. Did he find… what he was looking for? A cold, sharp laugh cut through the silence. My stomach dropped. He exited the forum app and opened my chat history. After a single glance, he slammed the phone face down on the coffee table and pressed the knife to my neck again. “Do you really think I’m that stupid?” I wanted to defend myself, but the words wouldn’t come. “I really… didn’t…” [Well, she asked for it. I can’t believe how dumb this girl is!] [For real. She’s so clueless I’m starting to wonder if she was set up lol.] [He was actually hesitating before. Great, now he’s dead set on sending her on her way.] I had been holding it together, but seeing the pop-ups, I finally broke down completely. “I don’t know who you think I am, but I swear I’ve never been in a relationship with you!” I wailed. “I’ve never dated anyone!” Whatever monster pretended to be me and did this, I swear I’ll haunt them for eternity! [You know, I’m starting to think she really doesn’t know what’s going on.] [I get that feeling too. The girl who was dating him online seemed way smarter than this.] [Wait, could someone have impersonated her to date him?] [Probably not. When he was checking her phone just now, he must have found proof that she was the one. Otherwise, why would he have flipped out like that?] [I’m confused. Is this some kind of parallel universe crossover?] [I’ve read the source material, there’s nothing like that in the plot. So probably not.] 4 In the end, he didn’t use the knife. My sobs gradually subsided into quiet sniffles. “I really didn’t date you online. If you don’t believe me, I…” Grrrrroooowwwl. My stomach let out an incredibly ill-timed rumble. I had worked until 7:30 and hadn’t eaten dinner yet. I was starving. This was so embarrassing. I instinctively tried to deny it. “I’m not…” Ruuuumble-rumble-rumble. I lost all will to argue. [Girl: I’m not hungry. Stomach: I BEG TO DIFFER.] [I bet he’s gonna go make her dinner now.] [No way.] [I’ll bet you a bag of chips he does. It fits his pathetically devoted persona.] After about ten seconds of silence, the man stood up and walked toward the kitchen. The pop-ups went wild: [Dude, come on. She dumped you, and now you’re making her noodles with a straight face? How is that any different from doing her laundry?] [I hereby declare you the Simp King of the Year!] For a second, I wondered if I really did have amnesia and had wronged him. But I was certain my memory was perfectly intact. Could it really be a parallel universe thing, like the pop-ups said? I had no idea. Half an hour later, he came out with a large bowl of tomato and egg noodles. He didn’t untie me. Instead, he picked up the chopsticks and held a bite to my lips. “Can I eat by myself?” I asked cautiously. “I promise I won’t try anything.” “No,” he said without hesitation. I didn’t dare ask again and let him feed me. It was awkward at first, but I slowly got used to it. The noodles were surprisingly delicious. But no matter how good they were, I couldn’t finish the whole bowl. After about a third of it, I shook my head. “I’m full.” He didn’t force me. He wiped my mouth with a napkin, then turned his back to me and started eating the rest himself. I stared, dumbfounded. The pop-ups started up again: [Seriously? Is there no limit to his devotion?] [The way he’s going, he’d probably kill her and then immediately kill himself to join her.] [He’s completely obsessed. He didn’t care when she scammed him out of all his savings, but the second she said she never liked him and wanted to break up, he decided on murder. He probably thinks eating her leftovers is a reward.] Despite everything, a shiver still ran down my spine. And even if I did have amnesia, I knew my own character. I would never scam someone or play with their feelings like that. So, who the hell pretended to be me and dated him online?!

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Sebastian Sterling watched my transmigration happen in real time. He knew my mission from the System was to capture his heart at any cost. This breathtakingly cold man held a cigarette between his fingers, looking at me with arrogance, amusement, and disdain. “Since you’re here, you belong to me now. You’re my dog.” “As your master, I order you to donate your kidney to my sister.” Is she really his sister? Why did the System call her his “unattainable white moonlight”? His adopted sister with no blood relation? Whatever. It doesn’t matter. We strong women have our own lives to live. When faced with the unreasonable demands of scum, the answer is simple: fight back. A slap for the girl, a roundhouse kick for the guy. And the System? Drag it out and beat it senseless too. Just another Tuesday. Chapter 1 “I’m not donating a kidney.” I interrupted Sebastian Sterling, turning to leave. Immediately, the System’s warning flared in my mind. [Host! I brought you to this world to conquer Sebastian Sterling! You must gain his affection points bit by bit and win his love!] A glowing dot flickered insistently before my eyes. I frowned. Is a man’s love some kind of holy grail? I should fight tooth and nail, ignoring money and power, just for a man’s fickle affection? Am I crazy? [But look at him! Sebastian is incredibly handsome, isn’t he?] I turned to look at Sebastian. His gaze held a contemptuous confidence. “I’m not the first transmigrator, am I?” His reaction was too calm. It was hard not to be suspicious. Sebastian raised an eyebrow slightly. “You’re smart.” “What happened to the ones before me?” Are they dead? Sebastian didn’t answer. He took a deep drag of his cigarette, a playful smile playing on his lips. I stepped forward, snatched the cigarette from his hand, and crushed it between my thumb and forefinger. Sebastian froze for a second, then exhaled the smoke slowly into my face. “Interesting.” “They’re all dead, right?” Only by completing the mission could one return to their original world. Since no one had won Sebastian’s love, the mission remained unfinished, yet the previous transmigrators were gone. So… [Host—as long as you—] Shut up! I scolded the System in my mind, staring down Sebastian. The man seemed lost in a pleasant memory, the corners of his mouth lifting as he spoke slowly. “Some fell madly in love with me instantly, only to jump off a building when I rejected them. Some half-heartedly became my mistresses and died of depression. Some used their skills to serve me, only to die miserably after I squeezed every drop of value from them. Some did my dirty work and were silenced. Some fought back desperately, but eventually submitted, dying just last week after enduring torture.” He finished, looking at me with amusement. “Let’s make a bet. How long until you’re on your knees, begging for a scrap of my affection?” He leaned forward, a manic excitement in his eyes. “With your spirit? A day?” “Why, you dying tomorrow? In a rush?” I retorted. The System in my head let out a piercing screech. After thirty minutes of fruitless persuasion, its tone finally changed. [If you don’t turn back and seriously try to gain Sebastian’s affection, I will have to use force.] Force? I looked up at the glowing dot. Suddenly, a bone-deep pain washed over me. Electric shock. [Host, this is just level one. If you persist in your stubbornness…] It didn’t finish. I had already rushed into the bathroom, locked the door, and grabbed the glowing dot, pulling it in front of me. Without a word, I punched it. A scream echoed in my mind. I smiled triumphantly. “So you…” Before I could finish “feel pain too,” another wave of agony hit me, stronger than before. I didn’t hesitate. I punched the light five times in a row. During this, it shocked me four more times. Each shock twisted my face in pain, but I kept my fist clenched tight. I didn’t say a word. I just kept punching. “You better kill me right now. As long as I have breath, I will beat you to death.” I threw three more punches. “Let’s see who dies first.” Chapter 2 I wasn’t called the “Iron Lady of MIT” for nothing. You System might have cheats, but I, Chloe Strong, didn’t earn my name for nothing. Strong. Agile, brave, quick, intelligent. Especially the brave part. I live up to the name. After being knocked unconscious three times and locked in a stalemate for four hours, the damn System finally surrendered. [I was wrong. I shouldn’t have brought you here. I’ll send you back now.] “You dare?” I held the visibly dimming System, my voice cold. “Send me back? So you can grab more innocent girls to be blood bags for Sebastian? So he can torture them and enjoy their begging and death?” I paused, voice dropping lower. “Do you know how many cuts are in ‘Death by a Thousand Cuts’?” [3,357 cuts,] the System answered reflexively. “Correct. Not one less.” I pulled a fruit knife from my pocket and waved it, pretending to stab the System. It shivered violently, weak but struggling to beg for mercy. [I won’t send you back. I won’t. Really, Boss.] “Fine.” I moved the knife away slightly. “Call me Big Sis.” [Yes, Hos… Big Sis.] “Don’t breathe a word of this to Sebastian.” [Don’t worry, Big Sis. Systems only interface with the host. Aside from the initial handover, no one else in this world can see or hear us.] Good. “Now, give me all the data on Sebastian and his ‘sister.’ Remember, I want everything.” Chapter 3 “I agree to donate my kidney to your sister.” I stood before Sebastian with my hands in my pockets, gripping the System tightly, feigning defeat. The man smiled arrogantly, provocatively, as if everything was under his control. He put down his wine glass and glanced casually at his watch. “Five hours. So far, you’ve lasted the longest.” He clapped lazily three times, a slow applause. But the sneer never left his lips. “Kneel, woman. You are now qualified to be my dog.” “But you aren’t qualified.” I looked at him coldly. “I agreed to donate a kidney, not my dignity or my soul. Put away that high-and-mighty act, Sebastian. You’re disgusting.” I made no effort to hide my revulsion, which surprised him yet again. He swirled his wine, silent for a moment, then smiled knowingly. “New tactic, huh?” He stood up. His six-foot frame imposed a slight pressure as he walked toward me, step by step, until he broke my personal space. “Playing hard to get? Trying to get my attention?” He reached out and tapped my nose lightly, nodding with a smile. “I admit, your little tricks are working.” [Big Sis! His affection points went up! From negative to 10%! It’s a good sign!] The System blurted out, marveling that it might accidentally complete the mission. “Noisy.” I snapped impatiently, pushing Sebastian away. I wiped my nose repeatedly with a wet wipe before turning to leave. “Don’t contact me until the surgery is scheduled.” I needed time to plan. But Sebastian didn’t understand English. He knew I had just transmigrated into his wife’s body and had nowhere to go but his villa, yet he insisted on coming back to this house. Even though he hadn’t been back in two years. Disgusting. Seeing him in the house felt like swallowing a fly. But the fly kept buzzing around me. “Madam, Sir is actually cooking for you personally today!” The housekeeper ran upstairs, surprised. I sat up in bed. Is he poisoning the food? “Sir really loves you! Look, he won’t say it, but he’s secretly watching you with binoculars!” The housekeeper looked like a fan shipping a couple. Me: … Eating anything he makes will only kill me. [Big Sis, affection points plus five. He’s enjoying this.] The System chimed in inappropriately. Did I ask you? I shot a mental glare, and the System went silent. Chapter 4 I deliberately went downstairs thirty minutes late. At first, Sebastian chuckled at my “pride,” but after five minutes, he was extremely impatient. [Big Sis, affection -10.] [Big Sis, affection zero.] [Big Sis, affection negative.] [Big Sis, he’s going to flip the table!] With every update, I checked my watch, noting Sebastian’s tolerance. Only thirty minutes. Wow, impressively short. I sighed and went downstairs just before the table flip, sitting in the chair furthest from him. His face was dark, silent. He just ate. So I ate too. Bang! He kicked the table leg. The solid wood shook. I didn’t look up, just ate faster. Crash! He smashed a bowl. I felt annoyed. I didn’t know who this toddler tantrum was for, but I wasn’t watching. Splosh! He dumped an abalone into my soup. Liquid splashed onto my face. I put down my chopsticks and stood up to leave. “Hey, you—” Sebastian stood up angrily to call my name, but he didn’t know it. He ran over to block the stairs. “What… what is your name?” He crossed his arms, impatient, like a god deigning to ask a mortal. “Got a crush on me?” I countered. “No, you…” “Contact info. Mine.” I handed him a handwritten card. It read in huge letters: “PROFESSIONAL PIG CASTRATOR.” “Are you sick?!” He tore up the card, about to explode, but then seemed to remember something. He forced down his anger, pulled me back to the table, and served me a bowl of soup. “Drink. I made it for you.” Suspicious. Highly suspicious. I glanced at the soup. “Too greasy. I don’t like it.” “Be good. It’s good for you. Helps the kidneys. Drink every drop.” So that’s it. I wondered why he was suddenly playing chef. It was for my kidney. In his eyes, I’m just an organ container, right? I picked up the bowl, stood on the chair, and poured the soup over his head. “Since you love it, drink up. Drink up so you can give your kidney to your sister, then open your eyes wide and watch her moaning under you, watch her moaning under someone else.” I finished and tried to flip the table. Too heavy. Crash! I yanked the tablecloth. Dishes shattered everywhere. “Go wear your green hat!” I vented, grabbed my bag with the money, and headed for the door. I heard Sebastian laugh coldly behind me. “You. Very good.” He looked at me with cold eyes. As his affection hit rock bottom, his confident, mocking expression returned. “Within three days, you will come crying, begging for my forgiveness. No, tonight.” I slammed the door. As I looked back, I saw him mouth: “I’ll be waiting.”

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After collaborating with the hottest pop star in the country, I was cyberbullied by his rabid “girlfriends” to the brink of quitting the industry. One night, drunk out of my mind, I started a livestream and went to war with the haters: “Liam Stone ain’t sh*t! I trained him like a dog!” “Even if he begged to be my dog, I’d have to think about it!” The haters said I was desperate for clout. Until one day, a video from my elementary school days leaked. It showed me on the playground, walking two boys on leashes. One of them was Liam Stone. The internet exploded. [Is that our cold, aloof King Liam?] [Omg, she literally trained my brother like a puppy.] Chapter 1 Back in the day, I was kind of a big deal in elementary school. It started with “Pet Day.” The teacher told us to bring a small animal to school to learn about responsibility. Other kids brought goldfish, turtles, hamsters—cute, low-maintenance pets. My parents were neat freaks. No pets allowed. Not even a rock. Seeing the other kids with their turtles and fish, I cried my eyes out. That was when the new transfer student, a pale, skinny, shy boy, was seated next to me. He had brought a hamster. Seeing me devastated, he whispered, “Do you want to pet it?” I cried harder. “Waaah!” He panicked. “Don’t cry! I… I didn’t mean to make you sad.” I wailed like a siren. The whole class stared. Terrified he’d gotten in trouble, he frantically wiped my tears with his hamster (gently). “Please stop crying. If it makes you feel better… I… I can be your pet?” I sniffled. “Really?” He nodded vigorously. “Really.” “What animal do you like?” I thought about it. My neighbor had a Golden Retriever that always licked my hand. It was cute. “Dog. I like dogs.” He looked serious. “Okay. I’ll be your dog!” Chapter 2 After acquiring a dog, I became insufferable. I bragged to everyone: “Look, this is my dog.” Liam stood behind me, head down, shyly letting my classmates inspect him. A kid laughed at me. “You can’t tell the difference between a person and a dog? You’re weird.” He held out his hand, showing off a small turtle. “My pet is way cuter than your… whatever that is.” Stung, I snapped back. “Cute? So what! Can your turtle bark? Can it understand English?” I threw a Jolly Rancher across the room and patted Liam on the butt. “Fetch, boy!” Liam’s ears turned red. He shuffled over, picked up the candy, and placed it in my palm. “Good boy!” I patted his head and waved the candy triumphantly. The turtle kid looked like he was about to cry. “Big deal.” Oh, you want more? I looked at Liam. “Sit!” Liam squatted down next to my leg, rubbing his head against my palm. “Woof,” he whispered. I unwrapped the candy and fed it to him. “Such a good puppy.” Liam’s face was bright red as he ate the candy, sticking close to my leg for safety. The other kids were stunned. A talking dog? A dog that followed complex commands? Suddenly, the turtle looked like a rock. Liam was an excellent dog. If I said sit, he sat. If I said paw, he gave me his hand. Within days, other kids approached Liam, asking if he wanted to be their dog. Liam, dressed in his pristine uniform, holding a pencil, looked up coldly. “F*** off.” I was thrilled. He was loyal only to me. Good boy! To reward him, I gave him my secret stash of snacks. “Take these, and you can only be my dog forever.” Blushing, he accepted the tribute. “Then… you can only have me as your dog.” I agreed instantly. “Deal!” My cousin, Sam, walked by and saw the exchange. His eyes went wide with horror. Chapter 3 After school, Sam blocked me at the gate. “Why did you give him all your snacks? I’m your cousin!” I picked my ear. “Cousin. Not dog.” He threw a tantrum right on the sidewalk. “I don’t care! I want snacks too!” “What do you want me to do about it?” He put his hands on his hips. “I want to be your dog too!” I couldn’t shake him, so I agreed. To earn his snacks, Sam went all out. He found a rope, tied it around his neck, and handed me the other end. “Walk me to school!” he demanded. Little me didn’t see an issue. I grabbed the rope. He really acted like a dog. Hands and knees, butt in the air, sniffing the ground. Then “WOOF!” He took off running toward the school. I chased after him, holding the leash. Passersby looked horrified. At the time, I thought they were impressed. I puffed out my chest, proud as a peacock. At school, kids gathered around my new pet. “You got another dog?” “What about Liam? Are you dumping him?” I felt a pang of guilt. “He’s still my dog. I want him too.” Sam jumped up. “No! I’m the only dog!” The classmates gave a thumbs up. Feisty dog. I hesitated. “But I really like Liam…” Sam whispered in my ear, “You don’t want your parents to know you have pets at school, do you?” I froze. My parents would skin me alive. “Don’t tell them! Please!” “Then say it. Who is the best dog in the world?” “You.” “Who is your favorite dog?” “You. You. It’s you.” Why did it feel like I was the one being trained? I thought of Liam. Quiet, shy Liam. He bought me water, massaged my legs after gym class, and was happy with just a piece of candy. Unlike Sam, the human Husky. Sam smirked. “Who gets the snacks?” I cried. “You. All of them.” The crowd went silent. Everyone looked at me like I was a heartbreaker. The turtle kid pointed an accusing finger. “You abandoned your pet! You’re a bad owner!” The crowd turned on me. “No! I didn’t abandon him!” Sam shouted, “Say that again and I’m telling your mom!” Behind the crowd, Liam stood in his white shirt, staring at me. His eyes turned red, and a single tear rolled down his cheek. “You don’t want me anymore?” Chapter 4 The crowd gasped. I was a scumbag. I was trapped. If I explained, Sam would snitch. If I didn’t, I was a monster. I wiped the sweat from my forehead and pointed at both of them. “You both want to be my dog, right?” They nodded. “Fine!” I put my hands on my hips. “I don’t keep weak dogs. Race across the playground. Whoever wins stays!” Sam and Liam locked eyes. The fire of competition burned between them. And so, the legendary scene unfolded. Liam and Sam, ropes around their necks, on all fours. Me, holding the leashes. Behind us, hundreds of students from every grade followed. “What’s happening?” “The Dog King is training her pack!” shouted Turtle Kid. Someone was filming on a smuggled flip phone. We got to the track. Students lined up, cheering. “Dog King! Dog King!” I waved for silence and dropped the leashes. “Run!” Liam looked at me with desperate hope. “If I win, I’m your only dog?” I patted his head. “Yes.” He took off like a shot. Sam scrambled after him. They looked like cryptids scuttling across the track. It was hot, so I went to buy an ice cream and waited under a tree. I saw my homeroom teacher walking with a fancy-looking lady. Liam’s mom. “My Liam is so shy,” she was saying. “I worry he won’t make friends.” Teacher waved her hand. “Nonsense! I heard he organized a ‘Pet Competition’ today. Half the school is watching!” Liam’s mom beamed. Teacher continued, “Liam is so quiet and well-behaved. Unlike the wild monkeys in my class.” Just then, two figures blurred past on the track, galloping on all fours. Liam’s mom squinted. Why did that dog-boy look so familiar? The teacher froze. That wild beast was her star student Liam? Who? Who corrupted him?! Her laser gaze landed on me, licking my ice cream. “Sierra! Do you know what’s going on?!” My hand shook. The ice cream almost fell. On the track, Liam crossed the finish line, leaving Sam in the dust. Thunderous applause. He didn’t care about the cheers. He stayed on the ground, panting, looking around frantically. Like a puppy who lost his owner. His eyes locked onto me. His face lit up with pure joy. He galloped toward me on all fours. Oh no. I tried to run, but he was too fast. “Master! I’m your only dog!” Beside us, his mom made a choking sound and fainted.

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I’d been a high-end seafood purveyor for years, cornering the market on wholesale distribution for most of the major restaurants and catering halls in the city. My sister-in-law, Bree’s, event venue was one of my biggest accounts. But every time it came time to settle a bill, she’d send me one of those infuriating, low-value digital “good luck” payments—a random Venmo for sixty-six dollars, maybe less. For my parents’ sake, I’d always swallowed the insult. Until one family dinner, when my brother, Travis, had a little too much to drink and lashed out. “Samantha, how do you sleep at night, knowing you’re fleecing your own family?” he’d slurred, jabbing a finger in my direction. “Bree is decent and trusts you when you quote a price, but I checked the books! Other wholesale suppliers charge way less!” Bree had just sat there, pretending she hadn’t heard a word. My parents piled on, accusing me of exploiting my own brother. I just smiled, saying nothing. But a few months later, when Bree’s venue landed the biggest wedding of the year—catering for the local magnate, the Van Der Zee family—my luck changed. I saw the $66.00 Venmo pop up. That night, I called my driver. The Van Der Zee wedding would receive the foulest, rotten-to-the-core fish and shrimp I had in stock. 1 I was still busy taking inventory of a new shipment when my sister-in-law, Bree Allen, called. “Samantha, I need the absolute top-tier seafood for this Saturday,” she practically shrieked into the phone. “The Van Der Zees are throwing their son’s wedding reception at my venue, and they booked out every single seat. I cannot mess this up!” She rattled off a list of impossible demands. “It has to be the freshest, the most exclusive. Australian Blue Lobster, Hokkaido Uni, Alaskan King Crab, and I need the French Oysters with the numbered tags, original packaging only!” I managed a chilly laugh. “Absolutely. I’ll make sure it’s delivered right on time.” “Oh, that’s great! I’m sending the payment now. Consider this settled, okay?” My heart sank. I already knew what was coming. Sure enough, it was a random digital payment. I clicked on the notification: $66.00. I stared at the screen, letting out a long, slow sigh before accepting it. It wasn’t worth the fight. Bree’s text immediately followed: “Girl, that was $66.00! You’re going to get rich! Six-six is for good fortune, so you better make this delivery perfect for me!” I’d spent three years biting my tongue for Travis’s sake. But this time, the line was crossed. I wasn’t going to let this slide. Saturday arrived quickly. I had my driver load up the small truck early and send the delivery over. The Van Der Zee family’s event was colossal. Luxury cars snaked down the block to the Sapphire Ballroom. Bree was out front, playing the perfect hostess, her face strained into a smile that looked painful. She barely glanced at the truck pulling up. With a dismissive wave, she directed a server to take the boxes directly to the back kitchen. When the boxes were opened, the entire kitchen staff froze. The Australian lobster was already rotten. The sea urchins were reeking, weeping sludge. When Bree saw it, she nearly passed out. But the clock was ticking. Dinner was less than two hours away, and the guests were already arriving. There was no time to pull an emergency shipment from another supplier. The sheer power of the Van Der Zee name sent a shiver of terror down her spine. “Cook it!” she hissed, snapping out of her daze. “Cover it up! Use heavy oil, use strong spices—just get it on the plates. We’ll figure the rest out later.” The chefs tried their best, desperately using heavy seasonings to mask the overwhelming stench. The results, as expected, were catastrophic. The faces of the Van Der Zee guests were thunderous. When I got the news, I had to lean against a counter, laughing until my stomach ached. Just then, the door to my wholesale warehouse was kicked open with a sickening thud. I looked up. Travis and Bree stood there, seething, ready to tear me apart. “Samantha Richard! You absolute bitch! You’ve ruined me!” Travis bellowed. I faked innocence, walking toward them with a smile. “What’s wrong? You both look terrible.” Bree lunged at me, her finger jabbing the air inches from my eye. “What did I ever do to you, Samantha? Why did you sabotage me like this? I’m going to lose everything! I’m going to be bankrupt!” She dissolved into loud, theatrical sobs. My parents shuffled in behind them, their eyes full of condemnation. “Samantha, they are your own brother and sister-in-law. You’re family! How could you use spite and jealousy to give them rotting food you couldn’t sell? Does your conscience not bother you?” 2 My father chimed in, his jaw clenched. “Travis and Bree work day and night to keep that venue running. For three years, they haven’t had a single bad review! You just destroyed their reputation—it’s over!” I couldn’t help but laugh aloud. A good reputation? Repeat business? That was my doing. For three years, I’d held the line on quality, never charging them for the hidden costs I absorbed—the five-star chefs I’d flown in, the tight control I kept over the supply chain. I was the one silently covering all their expenses, allowing them to make a killing in just three years. But these leeches saw it as an entitlement, constantly pushing my boundaries. I looked at them calmly, letting the smile drop. “You get what you pay for. They deserved the rotten fish.” “You!” Bree’s face turned a mottled shade of purple, her entire body shaking with rage. “Samantha Richard, you’ve hated me since the day I married your brother! And after all I’ve done—giving the Richard family a grandson! I must have been blind to ever trust you!” Hearing this, my parents panicked and rushed to comfort Bree. I rolled my eyes, ready to unleash a fresh wave of sarcasm, when I heard a crash. Travis had grabbed a heavy-duty hammer and swung it at a massive, seven-foot-tall fish tank. Water instantly erupted, showering the floor with glass shards. Several priceless, crimson-finned Platinum Arowana were on the ground, sliced and bleeding. Travis was breathing heavily. “You’re sick, Samantha! I treat you like my favorite sister, and you stab me in the back! If you don’t cut them a check right now, I swear I’ll smash this entire place into rubble!” “Three years, we paid whatever you asked, no questions asked, and this is how you repay us!” I ignored his outburst and focused on Bree. “But, Bree only gave me sixty-six dollars. That’s all sixty-six dollars buys—and honestly, for the sheer volume she asked for, I think I even threw in a few extra rotting scallops.” The injured indignation on Bree’s face wavered, but she quickly ratcheted up her volume. “Samantha, that is a disgusting lie! The $66.00 wasn’t the payment! We always pay our vendors monthly. That Venmo was just a customary bonus—a little something extra for good luck before the delivery.” She pivoted to my parents, her voice cracking with apparent sincerity. “Mom, Dad, if Samantha thought the bonus was too small, she could have just said so! I would have sent a bigger one, or even given her a cut of my profit! But she can’t just destroy my business. The Van Der Zees will never let me recover…” My parents were immediately flooded with sympathy for Bree. In their eyes, I was the greedy, evil woman preying on my hard-working sister-in-law. Bree slumped into Travis’s arms, adopting a martyr’s tone. “It’s okay, honey. Don’t talk like that. We’re family. I want Samantha to be happy and successful, too. I just… I underestimated how dark someone’s heart could be.” The sheer audacity of her performance made me want to vomit. “If those $66.00 payments weren’t for the goods, then fine. Let’s see the monthly wire transfers for the last three years. Pull them up.” Bree’s body stiffened. Her eyes darted around, suddenly unable to meet mine. 3 “Who are you ordering around?” Travis stepped forward, gripping the hammer like a weapon. “I clear every month’s payment. She transferred the money, I know exactly what she paid!” Bree grabbed his arm. “Stop it, honey! Just drop it. I’ll take the loss. I’ll work another job to pay off the Van Der Zee catering hall.” “Not a chance!” I slammed my hand on the counter. “If you can produce evidence—concrete, bank-verified proof that you paid me every cent—I will personally take care of the entire Van Der Zee lawsuit. And, I will publicly kneel before you and apologize for ruining your reputation.” My firm stance made the panic in Bree’s eyes impossible to hide. “We’re family, Samantha. Making a scene like this is embarrassing. I’ve vented my anger. Let’s just call it even.” “No way!” Travis violently shook off her hand. “I won’t let her slander my wife! Even if it means ending our relationship, she will grovel to you today!” Seeing his resolve, Bree reluctantly opened her phone. She had clearly prepared for this, pulling up a dedicated folder of screenshots. Travis snatched the phone, zoomed in on the figures, and read the amounts loudly. “Listen up! January 2025: $330,000 paid in full!” “February: $290,000, paid in full!” “March: $410,000, paid in full!” “Well? Should I keep going? What do you have to say now?” A cold dread settled in my gut. “That’s impossible. I never received those payments!” I tried to grab the phone to examine the screenshots, but Travis gripped it tightly, hiding it behind his back. “Stop acting! You just want to destroy the proof that we paid! You made a promise, Samantha. Get on your knees.” I glanced at the smug, victorious look on Bree’s face. “I have every right to question the authenticity of those screenshots! I need to verify them.” Bree spoke with a cutting, wounded voice. “See? I knew it. My sister-in-law is such a fast talker, even with proof, she’ll find another excuse.” Her gaze flickered with a sudden, greedy light. “You know what? You’re the older one. Skip the kneeling. Just pay me eight million dollars in damages. Then, we can still be a family.” “A family?” I laughed, the sound brittle. “Fine. You won’t let me see your proof? I have something I want everyone to see, too.” I pulled out my phone. Just as my thumb hit the screen, I heard another massive CRASH. Travis had raised the hammer again, slamming it down on the next fish tank, which held several rare Silver Arowana. Once. Twice. A third time. He looked insane, aiming specifically for the most expensive displays. The hundred-thousand-dollar blood-red coral displays shattered into fragments. “Travis, stop it!” A wave of cold sweat washed over me. I rushed forward to stop him. The tanks he was smashing held pre-ordered ingredients for my top clients, due out tomorrow. If I lost that stock, I’d owe double the cost and my reputation would be ruined. But Travis was seeing red. He lifted the hammer high and swung it at me. It whistled past my ear, grazing my arm before it came down, demolishing another piece of equipment. I clutched my bleeding arm and watched the Silver Arowana flopping uselessly on the wet, glass-covered floor. The last, frayed thread of kinship snapped. “Fine. If you want to talk business, not family, let’s talk business.” I took a deep, steadying breath, pulled up a photo album on my phone, and tossed it to Travis. Bree, who had been looking arrogant just moments before, caught a glimpse of the screen, and her body suddenly swayed.

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I’m a total sister-con. My sister didn’t want to get married in an arranged business merger. So, for the sake of her happiness, I gritted my teeth. I slept with her fiancé. I planned to get pregnant and then show up at his door to force the issue. But then I heard that the fiancé, Julian Blackwood, had already proposed canceling the engagement ages ago. My world collapsed. Terrified he’d find out I was secretly carrying his child, I fled the country overnight. Before I left, I couldn’t swallow my anger. So I sent him a vicious text: [You were terrible in bed. I’ve never been with a man worse than you!] Three days later. I was video chatting with my sister, dutifully reporting my life abroad. Suddenly, a hand gripped my wrist. A man’s warm breath brushed against my neck. He chuckled darkly. “Running away, Summer?” “Why don’t you stay and teach me how to be better?” 1 Little sisters are born to serve their big sisters. My mission in life is to make my sister happy. She is my sky. My earth. The most important person in my universe! Since our parents died when I was ten, she fought off the wolves circling our inheritance. She raised me single-handedly. I knew then that I would dedicate my life to her. If she’s happy, I’m happy. If she’s sad, I’m devastated. Her worries are my worries. And recently, she’s been worried about one thing. An arranged marriage. 2 We have a grandfather who never cared about us. Strict, stubborn, and old-fashioned. He had three sons. My dad was the middle child. The middle child is always ignored. To make it worse, Dad only had two daughters. Grandpa didn’t just ignore us; he actively disliked us. His famous line was: “Can’t even produce a son to carry the name. Useless even in death.” Too bad his “grandsons” turned out to be total failures. In my generation, only my sister, Chloe, shone. She clawed her way to the top. She secured our share of the family business. When the family empire was on the brink of collapse, she was the one who saved it. But the old man was still stuck in his ways. Recently, he dug up some ancient marriage pact from god knows where. The parties involved: Chloe and Julian Blackwood. Julian Blackwood. Ruthless. Cruel. A tyrant in a suit. Rumor has it he once bullied someone into jumping off a building. And he’s cold. No interest in women, or men for that matter. Another rumor says he once threw a pair of twins who tried to seduce him into a freezing river. When I heard this, I panicked. I rushed to find Chloe. She was home today. White shirt, midi skirt, grey cardigan, gold-rimmed glasses. Gentle and intellectual. She sat in the garden, frowning at her laptop. I tiptoed over. She saw me and signaled for quiet—she was in a meeting. I nodded obediently. My sister is so beautiful. I can’t let her fall into the clutches of a monster! What do I do? How do I save her? My mind wandered, cooking up crazy schemes. Chloe brought me back to reality. She ruffled my hair. “Summer, why are you home? Did you skip class again?” Me: !! “No! Classes ended early!” I showed her my schedule. “See? Done for the day!” She nodded. “Good girl.” Hehe. Praise from Chloe. I floated on cloud nine until I remembered why I was here. I put on my serious face. “Sis, I heard the old man wants you to marry Julian Blackwood!” She raised an eyebrow. “Who told you?” I showed her the text from my annoying cousin. [Summer, don’t get cocky. Once your sister is married off, the family business is mine again.] Chloe took my phone. She read my vicious replies to him with amusement. She blocked and deleted him, then tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “Summer is getting better at cursing.” My ears burned. Crap, my “good girl” image is ruined. “No, I didn’t mean it…” My voice faded. I quickly changed the subject. “Sis, is it true? Do you really have to marry him?” She patted my head. “Adult business. Don’t worry about it.” “I’m twenty! Not a kid!” I shook her arm. “Tell me!” Clearly, this was bothering her too. She rubbed her temples. “Maybe. I asked to cancel it, waiting for the Blackwoods to respond.” “Our family was messy years ago. Right now… we can’t afford to offend them.” I was shocked. If he refuses, she has to marry him? She comforted me. “If it happens, it happens. Marriage won’t change that I’m your sister.” Damn it. She doesn’t want to! No one forces my sister to do anything she doesn’t want to! 3 I pulled down the hem of my little black dress. I hadn’t worn something this short in ages. November nights are cold. I shivered in the hotel hallway, staring at the key card in my hand. It cost me a fortune. This was Julian Blackwood’s room. There was a gala downstairs. When it ended, he’d come back here. Remembering the rumors, I was terrified. Would he throw me into the river too? Probably not, right? I’m his fiancée’s sister. He has to give me some face. Maybe just kick me out. I swiped the card. Success or failure, I had to try. Chloe is more important than my fear. For the last two days, I kept asking her if she liked him. She finally sighed, “Summer, I don’t like him. I have no choice.” Seeing me sad, she took me to the beach to watch the sunset. The sun dipped into the sea like a salted egg yolk. She looked at me, not the sun. “Summer, you can marry who you love. No one will force you.” Sob. My sister is the best. 4 Thinking of her gave me strength. I gritted my teeth and pressed the card to the lock. Beep— I pushed. Didn’t open. Huh? I swiped again. Beep beep— Push. Still locked. I got angry. Swiped, pushed, swiped, pushed. On the nineteenth try, the card was snatched from my hand. A faint scent of vetiver drifted into my nose. A hand with distinct knuckles held my bootleg key card. He waved it in front of my face. “What are you doing at my door?” Caught in the act! AAAH! I buried my head like an ostrich. “No… nothing.” “Really?” The man leaned down. The vetiver scent was stronger now. “I recall this being my room.” “Summer, I’ve been waiting for you.” Huh? Huh? Wait. That voice. Why is it so familiar? I looked up. Saw the face. Froze. “Why are YOU here?” Julian smiled. “Who were you expecting?” “My sister’s fian…” My rusty brain gears finally turned. Why is HE my sister’s fiancé?! He tucked my hair behind my ear. “You haven’t told me why you’re at my door.” I blushed furiously. “Are you crazy? You gave me this idea! I’m actually mad now!” He took out his real key card and opened the door. Standing in the doorway, he ruffled my hair. “It’s cold out here. Does the little angry bun want to come inside and be angry?”

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By the time my mother was pregnant, my parents had already reached a firm consensus on education. If it was a girl, she would be raised in luxury. If it was a boy, he would be raised in hardship. They never expected twins. So, they made a radical choice: they split us up. I stayed in the city as a pampered heiress, while my brother was sent to a remote farm with our mother to work the land. Eighteen years later, I followed my father to the countryside. In the distance, I saw a young man with sun-bronzed skin hauling two heavy crates of vegetables. I asked, “Dad, are we here on a charity mission?” My father looked the boy over and nodded with satisfaction. “Charity? No. Get to know him—this is your brother.” 1 I stared at the boy. His features were strikingly similar to my father’s. Then, a woman dressed in simple, rugged clothes stepped out of the farmhouse. My world tilted. Wasn’t this my mother, who was supposed to be on a permanent business trip in Europe? The boy looked confused. “Mom, is this your new boyfriend or something?” My mother laughed, ruffling his hair. “Don’t be smart. This is your father. And this is your twin sister, Aria.” The boy looked even more lost. “My dad? You told me he died in a construction accident to pay for my baby formula…” My mother beamed. “Well, you just got into a top-tier university, so he’s risen from the grave. Aren’t you happy?” Neither my brother nor I found the joke funny. My mother handed Silas’s acceptance letter to my father and finally laid out the truth. Eighteen years ago, they saw too many of their friends fail as parents. The wealthy kids around them were becoming soft and entitled. They were terrified. So, they drafted a plan. A daughter would be raised in high society, making her untouchable to the common man. A son would be raised in poverty, hardened by manual labor to eventually lead the family empire. To prevent us from influencing each other, they kept us apart. I received an elite education in the city. Silas received a “tough-love” education on a farm. My father was only here because Silas had finally “proven himself” with his college acceptance. I watched my parents look at Silas with such adoration, and a bitter taste filled my mouth. I knew that tonight’s celebration wasn’t for me. It was for the return of the king. 2 I looked at Silas. He smelled of soil and sweat, standing there with a timid posture. My parents told him to pack his things immediately to head back to the estate. Silas whispered, “The local diner is still waiting for their produce.” “I’ll handle it,” my father said, ordering me to help Silas pack. When Silas walked into his room later, the tension was thick. I wanted to offer help, but he shot me a look of pure disgust. “Don’t touch my stuff!” I walked out, frustrated. In the yard, I saw that the vegetable garden Silas had spent years tending had been completely stripped. The neighbors were thanking my father for his “generosity.” I looked back at Silas. His eyes were hollow. He had spent his life watering those plants, only for my parents to give them away for free to buy social favors. My father didn’t care about the price of a few vegetables. Silas packed his life into tattered duffel bags. My father frowned. “Just take your IDs. That trash can be thrown away.” Silas gripped the bags and didn’t move. “Silas!” my father’s voice turned sharp. “Mom said you should use things until they’re gone,” Silas said quietly. Mother smiled. “The hard times are over, Silas. You’re coming home to the good life.” Silas tightened his jaw and condensed his life into a single bag. On the drive back, my parents took turns bragging. Mother took credit for Silas’s “blue-collar grit.” Father bragged about me being the most sought-after debutante, already engaged to the Blackwood heir. They thought they were geniuses. I thought they were insane—manufacturing suffering just for an ego trip. 3 On the drive, Silas didn’t speak a word, staring out the window. As the farms faded and the skyscrapers rose, his curiosity was replaced by a heavy dread. When we pulled into the Sterling estate, he looked completely lost. I tried to talk to him, but his face suddenly went white. Our Husky, Duke, lunged forward, barking ferociously at the stranger. Silas fell backward onto the gravel, trembling. I was horrified. “Silas! Are you okay?” My father sneered. “Scared of a dog? What a coward.” Mother sighed. “Honestly, Silas. It’s just a dog. Don’t be so pathetic.” I grabbed Duke’s leash. “He’s just loud, Silas. He’s gentle. Look, you can pet him.” I pulled the dog closer. Silas crawled backward, his eyes wild with rage. “GET HIM AWAY FROM ME!” I signaled a maid to take the dog away. Silas stood up, his tall frame looming over me. His voice was shaking. “Try being locked in a shed with a starving stray for three days because you missed a chore. Then tell me he’s gentle.” I stared at him, stunned. My father didn’t care. “That was to fix your attitude. A man shouldn’t be afraid of a pet.” Silas’s fists were clenched so hard his knuckles were white. I saw the way he looked at my parents. For a second, I thought he was going to kill them. Instead, he looked at Duke, who was happily chewing on a bone Mother had given him. Silas looked at the dog, then at himself. He realized he hadn’t moved to a palace. He had just moved to a more expensive prison. 4 My parents forced us to get ready for the gala. “This is the night you officially become the Sterling heir,” my father told him. He had spent months planning this, inviting every major CEO in the city. Silas looked handsome in a tuxedo, but he moved like a man walking to his execution. In the ballroom, he stared at the crystal chandeliers with disbelief. I led him through the crowd. “Silas, this is my fiancé, Julian.” Julian looked at Silas’s calloused hands and smirked. He spoke in rapid French to me. “Your brother looks like a farmhand in a costume. Stay away from him, Aria.” I felt a sting of discomfort. “He’s brilliant. He got into a top school.” “So what?” Julian sneered. “My company is full of top-tier grads. Pedigree is what matters here.” 5 After a dance, I heard my parents lecturing Silas about social etiquette. They forced him to ask a billionaire’s daughter to dance. It was a disaster. She screamed when he stepped on her toes and called him a “hillbilly.” The room erupted in whispers. My father was livid. “You’ve humiliated the Sterling name! How hard is it to follow a beat?” “I didn’t ask for this,” Silas whispered. “You do what you’re told!” Father roared. “If I told you to jump off a bridge, you’d do it for this family!” “Do you want me to?” Silas asked. Father’s face turned purple. “Is this the ‘tough’ kid you raised? He’s useless!” Silas looked at my mother, pleading for help. She didn’t move. “This is your life now, honey. You’ll learn.” They had built a “Truman Show” for Silas, and every move was calculated. I watched Silas’s shoulders slump. “He’s broken,” Julian whispered in my ear. “Why?” “Because he’s poor in his soul,” Julian laughed. “He’s hollow.” 6 Silas didn’t get a summer vacation. He was sent to elite grooming classes. Every day, I heard my parents berating him. “Why can’t you play golf like the others?” “Why are you so quiet? Act like you belong!” Silas’s head dropped lower every day. I began to hold my breath whenever I passed him in the halls. I never saw him smile. Not once. The house felt like a bomb waiting to explode. My parents told me to help him. “He’s going to be your backer when you marry into the Blackwoods.” “Maybe he’s not meant for this,” I whispered. My father’s gaze was like a knife. “He has no choice!” I realized then that my father never considered me. No matter how hard I worked, I was just a pawn to be traded away. I took Duke for a walk to clear my head. Near the lake, I heard someone screaming. I saw Silas on the grass, wearing his old farm clothes, chest heaving. I walked over and handed him a bottle of water. He jumped like a startled animal, accidentally bumping into me. We both fell onto the grass. I started giggling. He looked at Duke, who was tied up far away, and he finally relaxed. I sat down. “Still having a hard time?” “Yeah,” he whispered. Our first real conversation.

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1 My best friend Stella grew up devouring romance novels, convinced she was destined to marry into a life of unimaginable wealth. I always thought she was just talking big. I never expected her to actually hook the city’s wealthiest bachelor, Sebastian Shiloah. They had a whirlwind romance and a flash wedding. For two weeks, the news was saturated with coverage of their lavish ceremony. When she video-called me, she was on her honeymoon in Hawaii. Lounging in Sebastian’s arms, she grinned. “Lily, darling, my husband and I have it all figured out. When we get back next month, you’re moving in with us!” Sebastian chimed in from the side, his voice smooth as silk. “Any friend of my wife’s is a friend of mine. We’re all family now.” A month later, I stood before the Shiloah family’s sprawling estate, suitcase in hand. I smiled at the butler who answered the gate. “Hi, I’m Stella’s best friend. I’m moving in with her!” The butler just stared at me. “Stella? Who is Stella? Mr. Shiloah has always been single.” … The smile froze on my face. “Sir, you have a strange sense of humor.” I forced a laugh. “Stella! You know, Stella Shiloah! Sebastian Shiloah’s wife!” “I saw you during the wedding procession! I even gave you a cigar! Please, stop joking with me.” The butler’s expression remained flat. “I have no time for jokes. There is no Stella here. Only myself and Mr. Shiloah reside on this property. If you continue to cause a disturbance, I will call the police.” With that, he began to close the heavy iron gate. “Wait! Don’t close it!” Panic seized me. I grabbed the bars with one hand, fumbling for my phone with the other. “I have proof! How could you forget a wedding that big? Are you going senile?” I frantically opened Instagram, scrolling through my saved posts for the livestream of the wedding. I had even sent screenshots to Stella, my eyes blurry with tears of envy. But when I tapped the link, a pop-up appeared. [This content has been deleted or is unavailable.] My head spun. How could that be possible? Refusing to believe it, I clicked on several news articles I had bookmarked. Billionaire Spends a Fortune to Marry His Cinderella. Stella Quinn: The Girl Kissed by an Angel. The moment I clicked them, every single link went dead. “No… they were working just last night…” The butler watched my frantic movements with cold, detached eyes. “Ma’am, forging images and spreading rumors is a crime. Are you that desperate to marry into money?” “I’m not spreading rumors!” I screamed, my fingers trembling as I switched back to WhatsApp. “I have our chat history! Look! She messaged me just a minute ago!” On the screen, the chat window with Stella’s smiling selfie as the profile picture was clearly visible. [Babe, just putting on a face mask… the butler will let you in…] “You just wait! I’ll call her right now!” My voice cracked with desperation. “When she comes down to get me, you can start looking for a new job tomorrow!” The next second, a cold, robotic voice echoed from the phone’s speaker. “We’re sorry, the number you have dialed is not in service. Please check the number and try again…” I stood frozen. Not in service? I glanced at the WhatsApp chat again. She was texting me a minute ago. How could this be? A cold dread crept up my spine. Instant messages but a dead phone line? What was going on? The butler’s expression didn’t flicker. Not even a hint of surprise. He gave me one last look, as if I were a piece of trash. “Be gone. If you don’t leave now, I’ll have security throw you down the mountain.” Clang. The gate slammed shut. I was standing under the blazing sun, yet I felt like I’d been plunged into an icy cavern. What was happening? Stella was in there, I knew she was. Why would the butler deny it? Why had every trace of her and the wedding been scrubbed from the internet? Unless… something happened to Stella. The lives of the ultra-rich are notoriously dangerous. What if Sebastian was holding her captive? Announcing he was single and erasing her existence would be the perfect cover. The thought made my scalp tingle. Fear and fury surged through me. No, I couldn’t leave. If I left, she would be completely alone. Gritting my teeth, I dragged my suitcase to the center of the driveway and sat down on it. I’d see if Sebastian Shiloah could avoid coming out. Sure enough, less than ten minutes later, a black Maybach purred up the drive. I recognized it. It was the same car Sebastian had used to pick Stella up on their wedding day. A rush of adrenaline hit me. I leaped up and threw myself in front of the car, arms spread wide. “Sebastian Shiloah! Get out here! What have you done with Stella?!” The driver’s face went pale. He was about to get out and yell at me when the rear window smoothly descended. It was him. My best friend’s new husband. I stormed over to his window and roared, “Mr. Shiloah! Your butler says you’re single! He says there’s no such person as Stella! We video-chatted with you and Stella from Hawaii just two weeks ago! What the hell is going on?” Sebastian’s brow furrowed slightly, a flicker of confusion in his eyes. “Stella? Hawaii?” It was clear he was going to play dumb. I was about to lose it when he gestured for the gates to be opened. “Since you’re here, you might as well come in and explain yourself.” A chilling smile touched his lips. “As it happens, I’m also very curious…” “About where this Mrs. Shiloah you speak of… truly is.” 2 The moment the gates opened, I didn’t even wait for Sebastian to get out of the car. I grabbed my suitcase and bolted toward the villa. The butler tried to stop me, but I shoved him aside. “Don’t touch me!” I knew the layout by heart. I stormed through the living room and straight for the second floor. I had been in the master bedroom with Stella on the morning of the wedding, helping her get ready. “Stella! Come out!” I kicked the bedroom door open. I scanned the room, my eyes darting everywhere. Nothing. No Stella. Worse… there wasn’t a single trace that a woman had ever lived there. “How can this be…” I tore open the door to the walk-in closet, muttering to myself. “The closet! Yes! The closet!” I remembered it vividly. On the wedding day, behind this very door were two entire walls of Hermès bags. I had screamed when I held a Himalayan Birkin, and Stella had laughed and promised to get me one. Screech. I yanked the closet door open so hard it nearly came off its hinges. My hand froze in mid-air. It was empty. Save for a few dark, custom-tailored suits hanging forlornly on a rack. No Hermès. No Chanel. “Impossible… this is impossible…” I sank to my knees, my hands frantically patting the wooden floor of the closet, searching for a single long hair, a lost earring, anything. There was nothing. The room was as sterile as a showroom. Sebastian leaned against the doorframe, his voice calm. “Have you seen enough, Miss Miller?” I collapsed onto the floor, my mind a chaotic mess. Was it all a scam? Had Stella been conned by a fake Sebastian Shiloah? But… this villa was real! How could a con artist afford to rent the actual home of the city’s wealthiest man just for a charade? And if it was a scam, why was the real Sebastian Shiloah living here now? “I don’t believe you!” I scrambled to my feet and pointed at him. “You’re the imposter! You’ve hidden everything, haven’t you?” “I’m calling the police! I have video evidence! You were on your honeymoon in Hawaii two weeks ago!” Sebastian looked at me as if I were a hopeless lunatic. He pulled out his phone and dialed 911. “Hello, police? This is Sebastian Shiloah.” “I have a trespasser on my property. Please send an officer.” Ten minutes later, the police arrived. “Officer! I want to report a missing person! Her name is Stella Quinn, and he’s responsible!” I pointed a shaking finger at Sebastian. “I have proof! They were in Hawaii on their honeymoon just two weeks ago!” The officer glanced at me, then at Sebastian. Sebastian sighed, the picture of weary patience. “Officer, I’ve been in the country for the past month handling a corporate merger. I haven’t been to Hawaii.” “You can check my travel records if you don’t believe me.” The officer immediately looked it up on his device. Two minutes later, he turned the screen toward me. “Ma’am, the system shows that Mr. Shiloah has no international travel records for the past three months.” Boom. A lightning bolt struck my brain. No travel records? “Impossible! I saw it… the ocean, the beach…” The officer put his device away, his expression turning serious. “Ma’am, filing a false police report is illegal. Since it appears you were the victim of a scam and are acting out of concern, we’ll let you off with a verbal warning this time.” “Please leave the premises, or we’ll have to charge you with disorderly conduct.” I stood frozen, ice flooding my veins. A massive wave of panic washed over me. Sebastian stood off to the side, his gaze as cold and indifferent as if he were looking at a bag of trash. “Alfred, see our guest out.” “And from now on, if she ever sets foot on this property again, call the police and have her arrested immediately.” The butler, Alfred, stepped forward and roughly shoved my suitcase toward the door. “This way, Miss Miller.” I bit my lip so hard I could taste blood, my body trembling with rage. I couldn’t accept this. Everything had felt so real. Why was I suddenly the crazy one? I dragged my heavy suitcase, looking back every few steps as I walked toward the exit. As I passed the grand foyer, next to a huge porcelain vase, the wheel of my suitcase clipped the edge of a wastebasket. Clatter. The basket tipped over, spilling a few wads of crumpled paper onto the floor. The butler immediately scowled. “Stop making a mess and get out!” Just then, a wrinkled little receipt caught my eye. One glance was all it took. The blood in my veins turned to ice. It was a receipt from a convenience store. Item: Orange Crush cigarettes. Time: Yesterday, 2:30 PM. That was Stella’s favorite brand. 3 I secretly pocketed the receipt and walked out of the villa without another word. At dawn, I called Stella’s former colleague, Jessica. “Jess, it’s Lily! Do you know where Stella is? Has she contacted you guys at all since the wedding?” There was a pause on the other end, then her voice shot up. “Lily, are you insane? Stella doesn’t even have a boyfriend. What wedding are you talking about?” My heart sank. “The wedding that was livestreamed everywhere last month! With Sebastian Shiloah!” “Are you having delusions?” Jessica cut me off, her voice laced with annoyance. “She quit last month and went back to her hometown!” Before I could respond, she hung up. With a trembling hand, I dialed Stella’s mother. “Auntie! Something’s happened to Stella! Sebastian Shiloah is denying everything, saying they never got married! You have to come to the city!” Stella’s mom was silent for five seconds. “Lily, dear… what on earth are you talking about?” “When did Stella get married?” I was stunned. “Didn’t you receive the dowry? The eight hundred thousand dollars?” “What dowry? Honey, do you have a fever?” Her tone grew urgent. “Stella told me last month she was coming home for a break. She even sent me pictures! What boyfriend? Don’t you go spreading rumors that could ruin her reputation!” Click. She hung up on me too. I was completely dumbfounded. Had Sebastian bought off her mother as well? I refused to believe it. I took a cab straight to my own mom’s house. The moment I walked in, I grabbed her arm. “Mom! Something’s happened to Stella! The whole world is lying to me!” I poured out the story of the last two days. My mom just stared at me, then touched my forehead. “Lily, honey, when did Stella get married? How come I didn’t know?” My mind exploded. “Mom! Don’t you joke about this!” “We watched the livestream together last month! You even said how handsome Sebastian was!” My mom frowned. “You were working overtime last month. I was watching my shows. When did we watch a livestream?” “No!” I shoved my phone in her face. “Look! Here’s the proof!” “Stella has been bragging to me every single day about her life as a billionaire’s wife! Just yesterday, she was telling me to hurry over!” My mom glanced at the screen and sighed. “Lily, this is just that ‘marrying-a-billionaire’ game you two used to play as kids.” “Stop it now, before you get into real trouble.” A game? I stared at the screen, a tidal wave of confusion threatening to drown me. If it was a game, what about the wedding? If I was dreaming, how did I know the layout of the Shiloah estate? How did I know where the master bedroom was? And besides, if Stella hadn’t gotten involved with Sebastian Shiloah, I wouldn’t even know who he was! Most importantly, where was Stella now? Suddenly, I had an idea. There was one more place that could prove I wasn’t crazy. I ran out the door and hailed a cab. “The Grand Commerce Tower! Eternity Weddings!” 4 Stella’s wedding had been organized by Eternity Weddings, the biggest event planning company in the city. There was no way a company that massive could just vanish into thin air. Ten minutes later, I stood staring at a door sealed with official tape. I was too late. [Eternity Weddings has ceased operations due to financial mismanagement.] The date on the seal was from two weeks ago. The day after Stella’s wedding. I peered through the glass door. The inside was a wreck. Chairs and tables were overturned, and papers were scattered everywhere. They just packed up and left? The biggest wedding planner in the city lands a ten-million-dollar contract with a billionaire and goes bankrupt the next day? I pulled out my phone and dialed the number of the owner, which I had saved. “We’re sorry, the number you have dialed is not in service…” Not in service. Again. A chill shot up from my feet to the crown of my head. Every person, every place connected to that wedding was disappearing, one by one. Which only proved that something was very, very wrong. I wouldn’t give up. There had to be a loose end they hadn’t tied up yet. “The spa! Yes! The spa!” I remembered. A week before the wedding, Stella took me to a high-end spa. To show off, she bought me a $500,000 VIP membership card on the spot. “Here, darling,” she’d said, “take this. Come whenever you want. It’s on Sebastian’s card, anyway!” I immediately hailed another cab and raced to the spa. “Can you check the balance on my membership card?” The receptionist typed for a few moments. “Miss Miller, your VIP card has a remaining balance of $498,000.” A jolt of triumph shot through me. $498,000! I was a girl who made three thousand a month. Where would I get half a million dollars for a spa membership? “Quick! Pull up the transaction record! Who paid for it?” The receptionist turned the screen toward me. “It says you paid for it yourself, ma’am.” I froze. “What do you mean, I paid for it myself? Stella swiped her card! Sebastian Shiloah’s secondary card!” The receptionist looked confused. “Stella? We don’t have a member by that name.” “Impossible!” I yelled. “Check the security footage! Stella and I came in together that day!” The receptionist, startled by my outburst, quickly called her manager. The manager approached with a frown. “I’m sorry, Miss Miller, but we cannot show you the security footage due to the privacy of our other clients.” “You won’t show me?” I sneered, pulling out my phone. “Then I’ll call the police. An unexplained half-million-dollar transaction sounds like something they’d be interested in investigating. They’ll have the authority to see the footage, won’t they?” Twenty minutes later, the police arrived. And right behind them was Sebastian Shiloah. He wore the same weary expression. “Miss Miller, how long are you going to keep this up?” “Cut the crap! Play the footage!” At the officers’ request, the manager reluctantly pulled up the recording from that day. We all stared at the screen. On the monitor, I walked through the door. Beside me… was empty space. I pulled a black credit card from my purse and handed it to the receptionist, chattering away. But from beginning to end, there was no one with me. The security room was dead silent. The way the officers looked at me changed. It was no longer suspicion, but pity mixed with caution. Sebastian sighed and stepped toward me, reaching out to pat my shoulder. “Miss Miller, you should go to a hospital. I’ll cover the costs.” I stood rigid, trembling all over. Was I really alone? Was I really insane? Was this all a figment of my imagination? Just as one of the officers was about to lead me away, a thought struck me like lightning. Of course. That’s how it was. I snapped my head up, my eyes locking onto Sebastian’s. “You can drop the act, Sebastian.” “I know where Stella is.” 5 Sebastian’s hand froze in mid-air, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Miss Miller, do you have any idea what you’re saying?” An officer frowned and reached for my arm. “Ma’am, please, no more trouble. Come with us to the station to cool down.” I shook him off, pointing a finger at Sebastian. “You’re all being deceived!” “Yes, the footage only shows me, but that’s the proof! That proves Stella was there!” “Because that day, Stella never got out of the car!” The words tumbled out of me as I stared into Sebastian’s eyes, refusing to look away. “Stella drove me here. She took a call in the car and told me to go in first and get the card!” “She’s the one who gave me that black card! She’s the one who told me the PIN!” “If I’m a lunatic, if this is all a delusion, then how could I possibly know the PIN to Sebastian Shiloah’s secondary credit card?” Sebastian’s expression finally changed. I caught the flicker of shock, the momentary stiffness in his posture. The officer whipped his head around to face Sebastian. “Mr. Shiloah, care to explain? Why would Miss Miller have your credit card and know the PIN?” Sebastian was silent. He looked at me, his eyes dark and menacing. “Miss Miller, you stole my card, and now you have the audacity to play the victim?” “Stole it?” I laughed, a cold, sharp sound. I pulled the crumpled convenience store receipt from my pocket. “Then I suppose I stole this receipt, too?” “Orange Crush cigarettes. Bought yesterday at 2:30 PM from the convenience store just outside the estate gates.” Sebastian’s pupils contracted. The words slipped out before he could stop them. “My driver bought those!” I smirked, my theory solidifying. “Really? Because yesterday at 2:30 PM, your driver was delivering documents to you at your corporate headquarters. The building’s security cameras will prove it.” “So tell me, who bought the cigarettes?” Sebastian took a step forward, trying to snatch the receipt from my hand. “Lily! You trespass on my property and now you’re digging through my trash?” “Why are you so nervous?” I backed away, moving behind one of the officers. “Sebastian, why do you think I dragged everyone, including the police, all the way out to this spa?” “It was a diversion!” I held up my phone, the screen showing that I was still on a call with my mother. “While we were all busy here, I had my mom go to that convenience store!” “You’re a billionaire. You can control the narrative. You can delete news articles and bribe spa managers. But that convenience store is part of a national chain. Their security footage is uploaded directly to a corporate cloud server. You can’t delete that!” Panic finally broke through Sebastian’s stoic facade. The cool elegance was gone, replaced by a fine sheen of sweat on his forehead. “Lily! You wouldn’t dare!” “Wouldn’t I?” I shouted into the phone, “Mom! Send the video! Let the police see who really bought those cigarettes yesterday!” “Once we have that footage, we’ll know exactly where Stella is!” Ding. A notification sound. My mom had sent the video file. My heart hammered against my ribs, my hands shaking with excitement. I’d won. The truth was finally coming out. I opened the video and held the screen up for everyone to see. “Sebastian Shiloah, open your eyes and take a good, long look! Tell me that’s not Stella!” The next second, the triumphant smile on my face shattered. A chilling cold shot up from the soles of my feet, so intense it felt like my blood was flowing backward. In the security footage, the person buying the cigarettes… Was me.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “389818”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The first thing the biological son of my millionaire father demanded, after finally being found, was that I be thrown out: “He’s been squatting in my spot for so long. You need to dump him in the backwoods to suffer all the misery I did.” I didn’t react, only offering him a polite, small smile. Seeing the complete lack of response from anyone in the lavish room, the ‘prodigal son’ grew frantic. “If you don’t agree, I’m walking right back out that door and I’m never coming home!” My parents, Rick and Elizabeth Harrington, exchanged a pained glance, then awkwardly addressed their newfound child. “Well, darling… how about you just stay out for a little while longer then?” At that, the prodigal son was utterly stunned. 1 The wealthy adoptive father I had known all my life, Richard Harrington, finally located the son who had been abducted twenty years prior. He personally led a convoy of dozens of security personnel, a grand spectacle, to bring the real son from some rural backwater back to the heart of the city. Rick had reserved the most exclusive ballrooms in Newport, throwing a massive banquet for the entire city, a singular celebration for the return of his flesh and blood. And yet, the biological son, Jaxson Harrington, was anything but joyful. He wore a sullen scowl, the latest-model smartphone Rick had just bought him clutched in his hand. The aggressive sound effects of a battle royale game, punctuated by his casual stream of profanity, echoed relentlessly through the private room. My parents and I, and the numerous guests, were a study in discomfort. My mother, Elizabeth, a woman known for her gentle Southern charm, leaned in to remind him softly: “Honey, today is a beautiful day to celebrate your homecoming. Why don’t you pause your game and say hello to the uncles and business partners here?” Jaxson acted as if he hadn’t heard a thing. Mom gently patted his shoulder to get his attention. That was a mistake. Jaxson exploded, roughly shoving her hand away. “What the hell, are you blind? Can’t you see I’m mid-fight? If I lose this match, are you gonna pay for it?” The atmosphere in the room froze solid. The celebratory mood instantly evaporated. The forced smile that had been plastered on Rick’s face finally cracked. He slammed his fork down on the table. “Jaxson Harrington, that is no way to speak to your mother! Apologize to her immediately, and then acknowledge your elders.” Jaxson’s face was a mask of sneering contempt. “Acknowledge them? What’s there to say to a bunch of geriatric old guys with one foot in the grave? Wish them an early retirement?” Every person at the table stiffened, their expressions souring. Just then, the phone blared DEFEAT. Jaxson let out a frustrated grunt and hurled the expensive phone onto the table. “This is all your damn fault. I had that match won.” My parents were too shocked to speak. The other guests were too polite, or too stunned, to intervene. Jaxson, however, seemed entirely immune to embarrassment. He glanced around, snatched a fork, and plunged them straight into the most expensive dish on the table—a whole-roasted high quality beef ribs. He aggressively dismantled the ribs, shredding it to pieces as he searched for the tenderest belly meat. Only after the plate was a wreck did he finally manage to scoop a piece onto his own plate. Mouth full, he chewed loudly, eyes narrowed at the stunned guests. He spoke through the food: “What? Got a problem? Tough luck. I got kidnapped and raised in a shithole. This is how we ate out there.” The moment he brought up his traumatic kidnapping, the anger in my parents’ eyes softened slightly. They were instantly defenseless. Mom pursed her lips and reached out, delicately placing a few more dishes on Jaxson’s plate. “We finally found you, darling. Our family is whole now. We’ll just put this behind us and be a family.” Rick’s expression also eased. “That’s right, your mother is right. We’re all together now. If you want to go to school, we’ll pay to send you overseas. If you don’t, you can start shadowing Logan and learn how to run the business.” “Learn from him? Is he even qualified?” Jaxson spat a small piece of rib bone, mixed with chewed food, onto the table. His gaze landed on me, full of rage and scorn. 2 “Logan Harrington? You’re just the replacement they picked up after I got snatched, right?” My parents exchanged worried looks, their brows furrowing simultaneously. “Replacement? Logan is your brother!” Rick insisted. “My brother?” Jaxson’s voice rose to a yell. “Does he share blood with me? No. So how is he my brother? What, did one of you cheat and bring a stray home?” I’d heard enough. I decided to step in, my tone even and measured. “It’s true that I’m adopted, but I’m not some ‘stray,’ and I hold no malice toward you, Jaxson. There’s no need for this animosity.” “No malice?” His gaze turned deeply cynical. “What the hell. You’ve got your hands all over my family’s fortune, and you’re telling me you have no malice?” I let out a tired sigh. “I’m not interested in your fortune. You can spend some time learning the ropes at the company, and as soon as you’re ready, I’ll hand the whole thing over to you.” Jaxson’s aggressive demeanor softened a fraction. He looked me over suspiciously, trying to gauge if I was telling the truth. But my parents panicked first. “Logan, you can’t be impulsive like that!” Rick protested. “You’re our son too, and this company wouldn’t be what it is today without you. You absolutely deserve a share!” Jaxson’s face, which had just begun to relax, tightened with renewed fury. “See? See! The whole family is ganging up with the stray to sideline me! Maybe there’s no point in me coming back to this house after all.” He pointed a finger at Rick and Liz. “You lost me back then, and I suffered for twenty years. Instead of figuring out how to make it up to me, you’re taking the side of an outsider! Are you trying to make yourselves a laughingstock?” Rick’s jaw was tight. “Listen to yourself! Logan is your brother. Without his hard work over the years, this business would have failed years ago! And was it your mother’s fault or mine that you were lost? You climbed over the school fence to go play games, and a trafficker snatched you up. How could we have prevented that?” Jaxson sneered. “Look at that, all the excuses are lined up and ready. Do you have any idea what I suffered? You feel zero guilt, and now you’re plotting with an outsider to bully me?” He slammed his fist on the table. “I was chopping hog feed in a filthy pen while you were throwing lavish parties. I was sweating in the fields while you were probably using hundred-dollar bills as tissues, right? I don’t care how you try to deny it, you owe me!” Rick let out a deep, defeated sigh. “Fine. Starting tomorrow, you’ll come into the company. You’ll begin as the Director of Market Relations. If you can actually deliver results, we’ll talk. You’re my son, I won’t shortchange you.” Jaxson was not satisfied. He jutted out his chin and yelled: “No! Don’t take me for an idiot! I know the Chairman is the biggest deal. I want the title of Chairman, or I’ll cut off all ties with you right now!” 3 Rick’s face turned black with fury. “Stop this nonsense! The company is not a toy. It provides paychecks for thousands of people, and you will not casually dismantle it for sport.” I saw the volatile atmosphere between father and son, and the circle of important company partners and family friends watching the spectacle, utterly mortified. I had to intervene. “How about this,” I suggested smoothly. “We allocate a substantial sum for Jaxson to start his own venture. If, within one year, Jaxson can build his company into a successful enterprise, that will prove his capability. We can then discuss transferring the family business to him. It wouldn’t be too late.” Jaxson looked thoughtful for a change, clearly mulling over the proposition. Rick, however, looked guilt-ridden. “Logan, wouldn’t that be completely unfair to you?” I offered a slight smile. “The decades of kindness and guidance you and Mom have given me are something I will always be grateful for. This is the least I can do.” “But…” Before Rick could protest further, Jaxson eagerly jumped in, worried they might back out. “Deal! You can’t back out of this!” I nodded, maintaining my smile. “Absolutely not.” With the agreement in place, Jaxson didn’t cause any more scenes that night. But word of everything that happened at the banquet—the cursing, the beef, the demands—leaked out, and our family instantly became the primary source of gossip in all of Newport. Rick was so incensed he broke several antique vases. Mom, equally distraught, suffered a panic attack and had to be admitted to the hospital. Jaxson, however, was completely indifferent to their suffering. He was too busy demanding the initial startup capital from Rick. He dove headfirst into scouting locations, buying equipment, and hiring a ragtag crew. The health and well-being of the parents he had supposedly longed for seemed entirely absent from his daily considerations. I, meanwhile, was running a constant circuit: home, hospital, headquarters. I was so exhausted I barely had a moment to breathe. Jaxson hadn’t shown his face at the house or the hospital since he secured the money. It got to the point where Rick, suffering in his guilt, asked me in a quiet moment of pain: “Do you think I made a mistake bringing him back?” What could I say? I kept the forced smile in place and offered soft reassurance. “He’s just returned home, Dad. He’s still adjusting. Give him a couple of years. Once he matures and settles down, everything will be fine.” Each time, Rick’s gaze drifted to a distant point on the ceiling. “I hope so. God, I hope so.” 4 Despite the chaos at home, I dared not neglect the company’s operations. I was frequently at the office until the early hours, collapsing into bed only to wake up and do it all again. I had been managing the company single-handedly for years. Mom’s health had declined, leading to frequent hospital stays. Rick was constantly strained, trying to care for her while dealing with his own emotional turmoil. Add to that his lack of a strategic mind and his quick temper, and business trips without Mom to anchor him often ended in shouted arguments and lost contracts. As the family’s fortunes began to dwindle, I was forced to step up and take the reins. Now that Jaxson was here, I genuinely hoped he would rise to the occasion and ease my burden, finally allowing me some private time. Unfortunately, Jaxson completely misinterpreted my goodwill. The second time I saw him after the banquet was at the hospital. He had dragged his old cronies from the village into our house, where they had loudly smashed things up. Rick, enraged by the noise and destruction, suffered a hypertensive crisis and was hospitalized. Jaxson and his so-called ‘crew’ followed us, relentless, all the way to the hospital. He confronted me right outside the intensive care unit, eyes blazing with anger. “If Mitch hadn’t warned me, I never would have seen through your scheme!” I let out a small, tired sigh. Immediately, his voice escalated. “See! See that! You’re guilty! You’re speechless! The startup idea was a trick, wasn’t it? It was just a delay tactic so you could consolidate power and force me out of the company!” A nurse chose that moment to exit Rick’s room, informing us he was awake. Jaxson immediately shoved the nurse aside and stormed in. “You old bastard, you’re truly a piece of work, trying to screw over your own son!” “What startup? That was just a way to buy time for this stray to get a permanent grip on the company!” “You knew what a miserable life I had! Pigpens were stinking, and I had to feed them every day! The fields were soaking with dew every morning, and I had to be out there weeding! All my suffering is your fault! How dare you stand here with zero remorse and zero guilt?” Rick had just been revived from his collapse; he was frail, his face stark white. He weakly waved a hand. “Just tell me what you want, Jaxson. How much money do you need?” Jaxson didn’t hesitate. He pointed a finger straight at me. “I don’t want money! I want you to send him right now to that village, to live the miserable life I lived! I want him to spend the rest of his days farming and feeding hogs, dying alone in some shack!” Rick slammed his hand, hard, on the bed rail. “Jaxson, you have gone too far!” “Too far?” Jaxson let out a sharp, hysterical laugh. “You call me too far? I’m the biggest victim here! What’s wrong with asking for compensation?” He leaned in close to the bed. “Old man, listen up. This is non-negotiable. You send him away today, or we are done. I cut you off!” Rick was seized by a fit of coughing, the anger shaking his fragile body. “Fine. You said it. As of today, I have no son named Jaxson.” 5 Rick’s single sentence cut through the noise, leaving the chaotic hospital room abruptly silent. Jaxson turned his head toward the bed, utterly disbelieving. “What did you say?” Rick coughed again, then repeated the words, slowly and deliberately. “I said, starting today, we are finished. I no longer have a son named Jaxson.” Jaxson looked genuinely panicked. “You… you can’t do that! You’re the one who failed me! You owe me! What right do you have to say that?” Rick refused to engage further, simply closing his eyes in exhausted pretense. The group of toughs with their garishly colored hair, who had followed Jaxson, finally showed a flicker of sense. They rushed forward, trying to mediate. “Come on, family is family. Don’t talk like that, it hurts feelings.” “Jax is just putting on a tough front, sir. Deep down, he cares a lot! He was just saying how great his parents are the other day.” “Yeah, he’s always dreamed of coming home. He’s just insecure right now, testing you. Mr. Harrington, don’t take it personally.” Rick remained motionless, eyes shut. The hangers-on eventually gave up. “Mr. Harrington, you’re not feeling well today, so we won’t disturb you. We’ll come back with Jax tomorrow.” Rick still didn’t utter a word. Jaxson scoffed, waved a dismissive hand, and led his loud entourage out of the room. Only after the door clicked shut did Rick open his eyes. I realized they were swimming with tears. He let out a heavy, guttural sigh. “A curse on this house.” Tears streamed down his aged face. When I finally stepped out of the room, once Rick had drifted off to sleep, I was surprised to find Jaxson waiting outside. I raised an eyebrow. Was the prodigal son finally having a pang of conscience? The answer was immediate. He lunged forward and grabbed a handful of my shirt collar. “You listen to me, you hear? He and I are blood. The bond can’t be broken. He only said he’d cut me off because he was mad. Don’t you dare think you can steal the throne, understand?” It took me a moment to process the crude metaphor. “It’s called usurpation,” I corrected mildly. “I don’t care what it’s called! The inheritance is mine and mine alone. I’m telling you now, as the sole heir: tomorrow, I’m coming in for a corporate inspection!” I shrugged noncommittally. Then, thinking I should offer a genuine word of advice, I spoke: “I have more important things to do eventually, Jaxson. The family’s assets will be yours. Instead of wasting time battling me, you should focus on developing some skill and showing our parents some respect.” Jaxson scoffed, completely ungrateful. “I don’t need lessons from you. You’re just a dog on a leash for this family!” 6 The next morning, just as he had promised, Jaxson arrived at the Harrington Enterprises headquarters. He swaggered through the main entrance. “I’m the heir to this place! Everyone, stop what you’re doing and come pay your respects!” Silence. A long, thick silence. No one responded. Only the security guard stationed nearby shifted awkwardly, clearly debating whether to escort him out. Jaxson’s face darkened. “You don’t believe I can fire you all?” Still, silence. One of his scruffy friends hurried over and whispered something in his ear. Jaxson nodded, satisfied, and stomped further into the building. I waved off the security guard who was approaching, then walked over to face Jaxson. Jaxson maintained his arrogant, look-down-his-nose posture. “I’m here to inspect and give you all some much-needed direction. Why hasn’t this company grown into the largest in the world yet? Why isn’t my dad the richest man on earth? Because your abilities are holding us back!” Hearing this, several of the colleagues who had gathered to watch the spectacle gaped in shock. I fought back a smile, keeping my expression neutral. “And what changes would Young Master Jaxson suggest?” Jaxson walked into the open-plan office, looking utterly self-important. He suddenly pointed at a pristine white desk. “The walls are white, the desks are white—it’s depressing! Replace everything with red! Red brings good fortune, it attracts wealth!” A colleague nearby muttered under her breath. “He wants to turn the office into a crime scene? If he doesn’t know anything, maybe he shouldn’t give orders.” The complaint wasn’t quiet. Jaxson and his crew clearly heard it. His face momentarily froze, then he huffed dismissively. “Fine. I suppose replacing the desks now would be wasteful. You can settle for white, for now.” His first piece of advice had been mocked, and he clearly felt humiliated. He quickly grabbed a passing colleague’s stack of files and offered a second suggestion. “White paper with black letters? Who wants to read this garbage? Make them all color-coded! Put some cartoons on the side!” The colleagues holding the documents stared at Jaxson, dumbfounded. “But… these are professional contracts. Nobody uses colored ink and cartoons for corporate documents.” Being contradicted a second time enraged Jaxson. He slammed his hand on a nearby desk. “I am the heir to this company! You will listen to me! I say what goes! If I tell you to use color, you use color! If I tell you to print cartoons, you print cartoons! Make them red background with yellow text, and put a Dilbert comic on the margin!” (I mentally substituted an American equivalent for the cartoon he mentioned.) Seeing the colleagues hesitate, Jaxson grew frantic. “Why are you all standing still? Do you want me to fire you right now?” The colleague holding the files looked desperately at me. I nodded slowly. “Please do as Young Master Jaxson instructs.” 7 The colleague sighed, but complied. Thirty minutes later, she returned with a stack of garishly printed, absurdly colorful documents. I smiled benignly at Jaxson. “Are these to your satisfaction?” Jaxson accepted the thick stack, his eyes gleaming with a look of smug entitlement. He flipped through, pausing to admire the printed comic strip. “This is how people will want to read documents!” “Now, quickly, send these materials to our partners.” “But…” Jaxson, seeing the colleague’s hesitation, flew into another rage. “What? Are you saying you look down on me? Did you just print these to humor me? I am the sole heir, and I just gave you a brilliant idea for the company’s expansion! You’re not going to use them?” I intervened, raising my voice to instruct the colleague. “I believe these are the files Mr. Caldwell was waiting for. Please scan them immediately and send them over. Let’s see what Mr. Caldwell thinks.” Jaxson’s triumphant smirk was impossible to hide. “Scan them, scan them! Let them see real talent! The company can only grow under my leadership! Who reads documents that look like high school textbooks, anyway?” The colleague scanned and sent the files. Moments later, her phone rang.

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At our wedding reception, my husband’s childhood sweetheart, Bella, attempted suicide and was rushed to the ER. Hearing the news, my husband went berserk. He dragged me out of the venue, screaming that I had to go to the hospital and donate blood to her. I knelt on the ground, begging him to stop. I told him I was two months pregnant and that a forced blood donation could cause a miscarriage. But the next second, my in-laws, who had just arrived, kicked me in the stomach. “Let it miscarry! You can always get pregnant again later! If anything happens to Bella because you delayed, you’ll pay for it!” I curled up on the ground in agony, clinging to my husband’s pant leg. Instead of helping me, he kicked me again, right in the stomach. “I’m sorry, Sarah. If you miscarry because of the donation, you’ll hate Bella forever. So, I’ll take care of the baby myself.” I hemorrhaged instantly and passed out. When I opened my eyes, I drafted the divorce papers myself. I looked down at my husband and his family kneeling before me and laughed. “I called the police. I’m not giving any more blood.” “And you… a smoker and drinker with a low sperm count… don’t expect to ever have children again.” 1 We were exchanging rings. My fiancé, Jason, was distracted as the officiant guided him to put the diamond ring on my finger. The next second, his phone rang. One look at the screen, and his eyes turned red. He grabbed my arm and started dragging me toward the exit. His grip was so tight it hurt, and I tried to pull back. “What’s wrong?” Seeing me resist, he shouted frantically. “We have to go! Bella needs you to save her life!” “She accidentally slit her wrist. She lost a lot of blood. She needs a transfusion.” “Sarah, please! Just help her one last time!” Oh. It was Bella again. In the five years I’ve been with Jason, I’ve felt like Bella’s personal mobile blood bank. I don’t even know how much blood I’ve given her. My wrist was already bruising from his grip, and the bruise from drawing blood for Bella two weeks ago was still visible on my forearm. Suddenly, I felt exhausted. My feet felt glued to the floor. I couldn’t move. Since I started dating Jason, I knew about his “little sister.” If he bought me a coffee, he had to buy one for Bella. But he never remembered my order. He always bought what Bella liked. If we went on a date, Bella tagged along. He said it was convenient, that he was worried about her being alone. “We’ll do our thing, ignore her.” But every time, Bella was like a third wheel stuck between us. She always “coincidentally” interrupted any romantic moment we had. I fought with Jason about this several times. He always said, “I just see her as a sister. Don’t overthink it.” I made excuses for him. Maybe he was just dense. Maybe guys just couldn’t spot a “pick-me” girl. But now, seeing his panic… It was like a bucket of ice water dumped over my head. I woke up. Jason had never shown this kind of concern for me. Even when I had a fever of 103, body aching, unable to get out of bed. He just casually told me to drink more water. He didn’t even pour me a glass. I had to ask him, voice raspy, to find me some medicine. He took his sweet time getting up, asking a million questions before finally bringing me the pills. Back then, I comforted myself. I was his first girlfriend. He didn’t have experience. It was normal to have to teach him. Now I see. It wasn’t that he didn’t know how. It was just that the person he wanted to care for wasn’t me. My head cleared. I clutched my stomach and ripped my hand away from his. “I’m not going. That’s your precious sister, nothing to do with me.” He frowned, impatience written all over his face. “What the hell do you mean? You’re just going to let her die? I never knew you were this heartless!” “Today, you are going whether you like it or not!” He grabbed my arm harder, nails digging into my flesh. I couldn’t shake him off. My head was spinning, and a dull pain started in my lower abdomen. Mustering all my strength to stand my ground, I said calmly: “Jason, I’m pregnant. I can’t donate blood. Can you let go of me now?” 2 The pressure on my wrist vanished instantly. Jason stared at my stomach, frowning as if trying to determine if I was lying. Suddenly, his tone softened. “Bella’s situation is critical. Besides, donating blood doesn’t guarantee a miscarriage.” “I promise, if you help her this time, I won’t contact her again.” A chill ran through my body. I realized then that he knew I hated his relationship with Bella. He had just been pretending not to notice my hurt and insecurity all this time. “That’s enough. My body belongs to me. I have the right to choose whether or not to give blood to Bella. And I won’t gamble with my child’s life.” The veil on my head fluttered in the wind. I looked at the man I had loved for five years. I reached up, tore the veil off, and threw it lightly in his face. “Since you care about Bella so much, let’s just cancel the wedding.” I turned to leave. Jason, caught off guard, chased after me, lowering his voice to coax me. “Babe, I was just impulsive. Just help Bella this once. This is different. She tried to kill herself. The cut is deep. She must be in so much pain…” His mouth wouldn’t stop moving, full of heartache for her. I suddenly remembered a winter three years ago. I had just donated blood to Bella and was dizzy. I accidentally cut my palm on a rusty wire fence on the street. The flesh flipped open, blood dripping onto the snow. I cried and went to Jason, asking him to take me to the hospital for stitches and a tetanus shot. But he just stared at my hand, grinning, and pulled out his phone to take pictures of the wound from different angles. “Holy crap, that’s a huge gash! I think I can see the connective tissue. Scary. Let me post this on Instagram first!” Ignoring my frozen expression, he posted the picture and then happily replied to comments from his friends. He let me stand there, bleeding and stunned, for half an hour before he finally looked up from his phone and realized he should hug me. “Oops, babe, I forgot about you! My bad. You know I’m just a dumb guy. I’ll take you to the hospital right now!” Maybe. Maybe he really was just that dumb and immature. I comforted myself with that excuse over and over. But now, I finally understood. He wasn’t incapable of empathy. He wasn’t incapable of caring. He just didn’t care about me. My stomach hurt more and more. This pregnancy had been difficult from the start. I was exhausted from wedding prep yesterday and even went to the ER in the middle of the night. The doctor said I was anemic and weak, and the fetus was fragile. I had to be extremely careful, or I could lose the baby. But now, after coaxing me for a few seconds, Jason was getting impatient again, pulling at me. “Sarah, don’t push your luck!” “It’s just a little blood! It won’t kill you or the baby! If you keep acting like this, the wedding is off!” He always knew what I wanted most. That’s why he was so good at threatening me with it. I looked at him coldly and couldn’t help but smirk. “Fine. Then let’s not…” Before I could finish the sentence, a sharp pain exploded across my face. Then, someone kicked me hard in the stomach. My body, already in distress, felt like blades were twisting in my brain and abdomen. My mother-in-law’s shrill voice exploded in my ear. “Shut up with the nonsense! You think being pregnant makes you the Queen? Pfft!” “A clump of cells that isn’t even fully formed wants to compare with Bella? Look in the mirror!” “Stop faking it and get to the hospital!” “If anything happens to Bella because you delayed, you’ll never step foot in my house again!” 3 I curled up on the ground, shaking uncontrollably. I could hear the guests in the distance, laughing and wondering where the bride and groom went. Accompanied by a deafening ringing in my ears, it felt like a world away. I struggled to stand up, but my father-in-law coldly ordered Jason: “The car is ready outside. Get her to the hospital. Your mom and I will handle the wedding.” “Who gave you the right to treat me like this?! You have no right!” My voice trembled. A warm liquid gushed between my legs. Terror engulfed me. Even though I was completely disappointed in Jason, the baby was inside me. It was mine. The fate of my child should be decided by me, its mother, not killed so hastily and recklessly by others! Panic swept over me. I grabbed Jason’s pant leg tightly. “Take me to the hospital! The baby… I’m losing the baby! Go! Now!” Jason stood there, frowning down at me as I crawled at his feet, crying my heart out. A flash of hesitation crossed his eyes. Seeing me beg, his mother started her moral blackmail, shouting at Jason. “See? See? What did I tell you! She’s a cold-blooded woman!” “I told you not to marry her, but you wouldn’t listen! Today she won’t save your sister, tomorrow she won’t save your mother!” She started beating her chest and wailing, drowning out my voice completely. 4 I didn’t have time for her performance. More and more blood flowed down my legs, soaking through the heavy layers of my wedding dress and pooling on the ground. Jason shuddered, finally reacting. He bent down and picked me up, taking two quick steps forward. I clutched my stomach, repeating mindlessly, “This is my baby… my flesh and blood… and yours…” I didn’t even know what I was saying. Overwhelming grief swallowed me. I wanted to scream, but my throat and chest felt stuffed with cotton. I couldn’t form a complete sentence. Suddenly, pain shot through my body again. My hips and back hit the ground first. My head slammed onto the cold floor a second later. A massive buzzing sound filled my mind. Dazed, I stared up at the harsh white lights on the ceiling and Jason, who was bending over me, backlit by the glare. The next second, his face twisted into a grotesque monster. Then, he lifted his foot and kicked my stomach hard, again and again, crying while he did it. “I’m sorry, Sarah. I’m so sorry.” “You lost so much blood. The baby probably won’t make it anyway.” “If I let you go to the hospital now, not only will Bella not get the blood, but if you lose the baby, you’ll hate Bella forever…” “I’ll take care of this baby myself. Blame me if you want!” “Babe, we can have more kids later…” By the end, I couldn’t hear his voice anymore. Every movement seemed magnified, slowed down, then faded and blurred. Jason grabbed my wrist tightly, trying to pull me up. “Okay, that should be enough. Babe, stop faking it. Come to the hospital with me. Bella is waiting!” My in-laws chimed in. “It’s just a miscarriage! Acting like she’s dying!” “Back in my day, I was working in the fields while bleeding after giving birth! She’s just spoiled!” “This is what happens when you pamper her!” It felt like a giant meat grinder was churning inside me. Even breathing hurt. Finally, my vision went black, and I passed out. When I woke up groggily, I was in a hospital. I couldn’t open my eyes, but I vaguely heard Jason asking the doctor. “Doc, are you saying she can’t donate blood right now?” The doctor’s attitude was hostile. He sounded like he wanted to curse. But professional ethics held him back, making him stutter with rage. “You… you know her condition! Miscarriage, internal rupture!” “It’s not just heavy bleeding. Thank God she doesn’t need a transfusion herself!” “Are you really her family? You don’t care about the patient at all!” I didn’t expect that even in this state, His heart was still with Bella. He cared less about me than a stranger doctor. A wave of sorrow washed over me. When did we become like this?

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My husband locked me in the house because he was afraid I’d ruin his concert date with his “little secretary.” When a sudden fire broke out, I called him for help, begging him to come back. All I got was his impatient dismissal: “Can’t you be a little more mature? I just gave your concert tickets to someone else. Do you have to hold a grudge against a young girl and make up such a pathetic lie?” I passed out from the smoke. After barely escaping with my life, I saw them on social media. They were on the Kiss Cam. The girl was shyly burying her face in my husband’s chest. The caption read: So sweet! Couple goals! Furious, I left a comment: “Kissing someone else’s husband? A homewrecker and a dog—perfect match. Do you have no shame?” Moments later, my phone blew up. “Harper, apologize to Bella right now, or we’re getting a divorce!” 1 The pain of the burns on my skin was nothing compared to the agony in my heart. I could have escaped easily, but my husband, Carter, had drugged my water with sleeping pills and locked me inside to ensure I wouldn’t crash his “date.” Now, sitting in the back of the ambulance, my mind was terrifyingly clear. Carter called. There was no concern in his voice, only rage. “What the hell are you posting online? Do you know this is cyberbullying? Bella has depression! Now everyone is calling her a homewrecker!” “It was just two tickets to Taylor Swift! How much were they? I’ll Venmo you double. Do you have to target Bella like this?” My tears fell uncontrollably—from the pain, from the betrayal. It was the Eras Tour, the farewell leg. I spent weeks fighting scalpers to get those tickets. But just because Bella, the daughter of his dad’s old army buddy, said she wanted to go, Carter gave them to her. He never went to concerts with me. He said they were “too loud” and “not his scene.” But Bella only had to pout, and his principles vanished. “Delete the comment and post a clarification. Later, I’ll bring Bella over, and you will formally apologize to her.” “The house caught fire. I almost died, Carter.” I cut him off, my voice cold as ice. He laughed on the other end. “Harper, you are unbelievable. You really don’t want to apologize that badly? You have to make up a lie like a house fire?” I hung up. Even the nurses looked at me with pity. My legs were severely burned, especially where the skin had fused with the fabric of my pajamas. The flesh was blistering and weeping. I leaned back and sobbed, the pain making me wish I had just died in the smoke. “We need to notify your family, Ms. Vance.” I opened my mouth, but no words came. I had no family. Just then, Carter rushed through the ER doors. Seeing me lying on the bed, conscious and seemingly fine from the waist up, disappointment flashed across his face. “I thought you said you were dying? You look fine to me.” My heart clenched. When we first started dating, if I got a paper cut, Carter would panic and drive me to urgent care. The nurses used to joke that if he drove any slower, the wound would have healed itself. Now? He looked at my charred legs and saw nothing. In his mind, unless I was in a body bag, it wasn’t a big deal. “Stop being so stubborn. Just apologize.” “Are you the family?” A nurse walked in, glaring at Carter with undisguised disgust. She had probably never seen a husband like this. “Sign the consent form. She needs debridement surgery.” Carter refused. “She needs to apologize first. Otherwise, I’m not signing.” The nurse was furious. “Her legs have third-degree burns! Are you gambling with her life?” “Please, Harper,” Carter turned to me, his tone shifting to manipulation. “The whole internet is dragging her. If she sees the comments, she might hurt herself.” “Just say you made a mistake. Say we aren’t married, and that Bella is my girlfriend.” I looked up, eyes red, staring at the man I married. I remembered how he used to chase me, swearing he would stay single forever if he couldn’t marry Harper Vance. Was his “forever” only a few years long? “What if I say no?” “Harper, I’m out of patience. If you don’t apologize, we’re getting a divorce.” “Okay.” 2 Carter froze. He clearly didn’t expect that answer. He scoffed, putting his hands on his hips. “New tactic? Playing hard to get now? Let me tell you, Harper, it won’t work. You’re the one with the dark heart, ruining Bella’s reputation.” While he was ranting, Bella walked in. Her voice was soft, fragile. “I’m so sorry, Harper. It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have asked Carter to take me. I shouldn’t have let the camera see us.” She cried big, pearly tears, swearing she only saw Carter as a “big brother.” “Stop bullying her, Harper! Apologize!” Carter barked, his heart breaking for her tears. Bella handed me a bouquet of flowers. “Please forgive me.” “Don’t indulge her, Bella. She’s the one in the wrong.” The flowers were in front of my face. I grabbed them and threw them on the floor. I was severely allergic to pollen. In a burn ward, with my immune system shot, it could kill me. Carter exploded. “How did you become so petty? Bella is humbling herself, and you act like this?” Hives started appearing on my neck. Bella gasped, playing the victim perfectly. “If you won’t forgive me, maybe I should just die!” They made a scene until Bella “fainted” from the stress. Carter scooped her up, shooting me a hateful glare. “You better pray she’s okay, Harper. Or I will destroy you.” … My surgery went well. I didn’t see Carter again. I contacted a lawyer to draft the divorce papers. A few days later, Carter showed up with a thermos of bone broth. He said he made it himself. He admitted he was too harsh before and didn’t realize the fire was real. “Drink it while it’s warm. I didn’t know the extent of the damage.” I thought he was genuinely apologizing. But when I touched the thermos, it was stone cold. A layer of congealed fat floated on top. It was undrinkable. Carter noticed my hesitation and explained, “Bella is hospitalized too. You know she has OCD and is a germaphobe. She won’t eat anything anyone else has touched.” So, he took the fresh soup to Bella first. I got the leftovers. Germaphobe? She didn’t seem to have a problem touching my husband. Bella was an orphan, the daughter of Carter’s dad’s military friend. They took her in. Carter always claimed she was just a “little sister.” Back then, Bella was a crybaby. If she knew Carter and I were on a date, she’d call and cry until he came home. Carter would laugh and call her his “clingy little sister.” I was so naive. I didn’t drink the soup. I handed him the divorce papers. “Sign it. I already did.” “?” Carter’s face turned green. “Just because I didn’t give you the soup first? You’re jealous over soup?” He launched into a speech about how Bella had no parents, how he was her only family. Why did I have zero empathy? I leaned back against the pillows, too tired to argue. I knew that while I was in the hospital, Bella had moved into my house. She posted photos on Instagram wearing my silk robes, cooking in my kitchen. They even adopted a cat—knowing full well I was allergic—and called it their “daughter.” “Bella forgave you, Harper. She’s handling the hate herself. You don’t know how long I spent comforting her. When will you stop throwing this tantrum?” He thought I was throwing a tantrum. We used to have a rule: no matter how bad the fight, one person bows their head, and we move on. Not this time. 3 I moved my things out of the villa and hired a cleaning crew to sanitize the place. If he wouldn’t sign, I’d sue for divorce. My legs were healing. My mentor, Professor Miller, urged me to return to the research team. As I walked into the lab building, I heard sobbing. “What if Harper says no? I won’t graduate! It’ll be a black mark on my record forever!” “Don’t worry. I’m here.” Carter was stroking Bella’s hair. She was clinging to him like a koala. “I knew you were the best, Carter! Mwah!” They were so wrapped up in each other they didn’t see me. When Carter finally noticed me, Bella scrambled off him. He quickly claimed they were “just playing.” But the hickey on his neck told a different story. “Why does the house feel empty?” Carter asked, trying to change the subject. “I threw out the trash,” I said. “And I’m taking my stuff.” Bella nodded. “Out with the old, in with the new.” Carter saw my suitcase. “Where are you going?” “To the field site. The project deadline is tight.” Carter’s expression shifted. He looked guilty. “You don’t need to go. Did Professor Miller not tell you?” I frowned. I checked my email. My world collapsed. Professor Miller said I was temporarily suspended from the project. He forwarded me a news article. Bella, the “Genius Girl” of the university, had been accused of plagiarism on a major paper published in Nature. Carter had thrown me under the bus, claiming I was the one who edited her paper and inserted the plagiarized sections out of jealousy. I was a rising star in academia. This accusation was a career-killer. “Carter, do you realize this will ruin me?” I glared at the scumbag and his mistress. I wanted to tear them apart. Carter shrugged. “It’s just one time, Harper. You owe her. You caused her depression relapse. Time will heal everything. Besides, Professor Miller loves you. Bella has no one.” He said Bella couldn’t handle the stigma. “Harper, if you really mind, I’ll post a statement…” Bella started crying again. It was grating. I laughed. My expression was calm, almost serene. Carter thought I was agreeing. “Fine,” he said. “If you take the fall for Bella, I won’t divorce you.” Looking at him protect her so shamelessly, I realized the love we shared from high school to marriage was rotten. The Carter who waited in line for hours to buy my favorite cronuts, who almost drowned saving me from a flood—he was dead. “Actually, I do mind.” I pulled out my phone and dialed the university’s ethics board hotline right in front of them. “I’m reporting Bella Davis for academic fraud, contract cheating, and malicious framing. I will not settle.” 4 Carter panicked. He tried to snatch my phone. “What are you doing?” he screamed. “You’ll ruin her graduation! You’re so vicious!” He didn’t care about my reputation. He didn’t care that I would be blacklisted from every lab in the country. “I am an authority in this field, Carter. Do you think a little mud will stick if I fight back?” Carter insisted it was “just a paper.” I looked at him and felt nothing but disgust. Back when we were in the lab together, he used to bring me snacks during all-nighters. He knew how serious plagiarism was. Bella clutched her chest, face pale. “I can’t go back to school. Everyone will hate me.” When she hired a ghostwriter, she didn’t seem worried about hate. “Harper, I know you hate me…” “Save the tears,” I snapped. “I’m sick of your act.” Carter begged me. But it was useless. We were summoned to the Dean’s office. My senior colleague, Julian, was leading the investigation. His face hardened when he saw me. “A lifetime of integrity, ruined by trash,” Julian whispered to me. “I told you she was a fraud. She couldn’t write that abstract if her life depended on it.” Julian had warned me about the “Genius Girl.” But I was too busy trying to save my failing marriage to listen. “Sigh.” I waited to submit my evidence. Bella couldn’t produce a single draft. She just cried and looked at Carter. So, she made a scene. She climbed onto the roof of the library, threatening to jump. A crowd gathered. Carter shouted to the onlookers, “Harper is my wife, but right is right! She made a mistake, and now she’s trying to frame Bella! I just want the truth!” Julian stood next to me. “Heart cold yet?” “It’s been frozen for a while,” I smiled. “Bella is a genius! She published three papers last year!” “Yeah, Harper is just jealous because her husband loves Bella more.” The crowd was swaying. Public opinion was turning against me. But then, some people started speaking up. “That’s Dr. Harper Vance. There’s no way she plagiarized.” “Yeah, her citation index is insane. Why would she sabotage an undergrad?” 5 Carter saw me and Julian. “Harper! Get over here and apologize to Bella!” “I think you have that backward,” I said, voice amplifying over the crowd. I held up my phone, connected to the Bluetooth speaker system I’d “borrowed” from the AV club. “Your dad asked you to look after Bella, not sleep with her, Carter.” “Bella, you have OCD, but you seem fine sleeping in my bed when I’m not home.” I broadcasted the photos. The timestamps. The texts. Carter went pale. “Bella is just a kid…” “A kid who knows how to leave hickeys? Carter, I didn’t want to air our dirty laundry. But you forced my hand.” Bella held the “depression card” like a shield. She would cry and manipulate. I wasn’t going to let her control the narrative. “I have proof Bella hired a ghostwriter. I have the bank transfers.” The investigation concluded quickly. “Ms. Vance did not participate in the editing of the paper. The plagiarism is solely on Ms. Davis.” Bella’s world crumbled. She squatted on the roof, wailing that we were bullying her. “Don’t do it, Bella!” Carter screamed. But she didn’t jump. She was too terrified of pain. Finally, Carter climbed up and carried her down. The video of her crying “Carter, hold me” went viral. Everyone saw their affair for what it was. My divorce was expedited. That night, at a bar with Julian and the research team, a drunk Carter stumbled in. “I know I messed up, but Harper, are you blameless?” “Security,” I said calmly. Julian laughed. “Trash took itself out.” The guys tried to drag Carter out, but he clung to the table. “You only care about work! You never cared about us! My family pressured me to have kids, and I never told you because I didn’t want to stress you out!” “But from the moment you met me, I was like this,” I said. “You said you loved my ambition.” “Now you’re just bored and looking for a thrill.”

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