Category: English

In my last life, my parents divorced. My sister went with my wealthy mother; I was left with my bankrupt father. Who could have guessed that Mom’s remarriage would land her with an abusive monster, her life spiraling from bad to worse? Meanwhile, my father, having hit rock bottom, clawed his way back and built a new empire. My sister, eaten alive by jealousy, plunged a knife into my stomach. When I opened my eyes again, we were back on the day our parents walked out of the courthouse, divorce papers in hand. This time, my sister didn’t miss a beat. “I love Daddy,” she declared. “I want to stay with Daddy.” A giddy relief washed over me. I had no desire to relive a life on the run. 1 My sister, Sophie, wrapped her arms around Dad’s arm, her voice a saccharine sweet coo. “Daddy, please let me stay with you! I love you the most, and I don’t mind being poor, I swear!” To see Sophie, who’d been selfish and demanding her entire life, say something so selfless was enough to make our father’s heart melt. He was so moved, he completely missed the thundercloud forming on our mother’s face. “Absolutely not,” Mom snapped, stepping forward. “Sophie will have a hard life with you. I have to take her.” So, Sophie going with Dad meant a life of hardship, but me? I was apparently disposable. My parents fought over Sophie’s custody like two dogs over a bone. It was as if I were invisible, a ghost in the room. In the end, they couldn’t argue with Sophie’s own iron-willed decision to go with Dad. Only then did Mom turn to me, her choice made by default. I followed her into the gleaming black Mercedes that belonged to my future stepfather. Sophie, clutching Dad’s hand, practically skipped away. Just before she left, she shot a triumphant, challenging look over her shoulder at me. I didn’t care. After all, at this moment, Mom had all the money, and Dad’s life was a complete disaster. 2 In my last life, Dad dragged me from one dingy apartment to another, always trying to outrun his creditors. There was no way for me to focus on school. The collapse of his business and Mom’s departure had shattered him. He surrendered completely, hiding out in cheap rentals, drowning himself in bourbon, and letting the world fall apart around him. I was at the top of my class, but I couldn’t afford tuition. I had to take care of him, which meant dropping out to find work. We came from the same womb, but Sophie had always been the lucky one. She was beautiful and knew exactly how to charm our parents. They both adored her. Plus, she was younger. You’re the older sister, Tessa, they’d always say. You should be mature. Let your sister have her way. Even in divorce, she was the only one they wanted. But in this life, her choice to stay with Dad gave him a rare moment of victory in front of Mom. The second the car door closed, Mom started in on me. “You were never the pretty one, Tessa, and you have a difficult personality. We’re going to live with Arthur now. For God’s sake, don’t embarrass me.” It was almost funny. What kind of mother says that to her own daughter? But it didn’t matter. The car glided through a set of ornate iron gates and into The Ridges, a neighborhood of sprawling mansions. I knew my stepfather from the previous life was rich, but I hadn’t realized he was this rich. Arthur enrolled me in Northwood Prep, the best private academy in the city. A driver took me to and from school every day. To make up for the education I’d lost in my past life, I poured everything I had into my studies. I was driven, and it paid off. Every year, I was in the top three of my class. My mother, who had previously ignored me, was suddenly eager to attend parent-teacher conferences. For her, it was a chance to be envied by the other parents and praised by the teachers for having such a brilliant daughter. Since Arthur didn’t have any children of his own, my life in this house was, for the most part, peaceful and comfortable. “Arthur,” I said one evening, “I’d like to study abroad.” “Study abroad? Don’t be ridiculous,” my mother scoffed before Arthur could even respond. “Just because you get good grades doesn’t mean you can just do whatever you want.” It was then I realized that sometimes, a person’s hatred for you doesn’t need a reason. Even if that person is your own mother. 3 Arthur wasn’t the monster my mother and Sophie had described in my past life—volatile, tyrannical, violent. On the contrary, I found him to be incredibly intelligent, though proud and guarded. The cracks in his marriage to my mother began to show not long after we arrived. My mother was a classic trophy wife—all beauty, no substance. In a way, she and my father were a perfect match. Dad was a textbook case of new money, a trust-fund kid who was all muscle and no brains. He’d used a combination of brute force and cash to win her over. While my grandparents were alive, they kept the family business afloat. After they passed, Dad let his pack of sycophantic “friends” talk him into one bad investment after another, losing everything his parents had left him. My mother immediately found his replacement and filed for divorce. My plans to study abroad were stalled by my mother’s objections. But with my grades, I knew I could easily get into a top university here in the States. “Sophie’s here!” “Maria, is my mother home?” I heard her ask our housekeeper. “Your mother is out shopping, dear. But your sister is upstairs reading.” I heard Sophie’s footsteps coming down the hall. Without knocking, she pushed my door open. “Honestly, Tessa, who are you trying to impress? There’s no one home. Put the book down.” With a flick of her wrist, she snatched the novel out of my hands. Sophie was officially in Dad’s custody, but she came to this house nearly every month to get money from Mom, along with new clothes and jewelry. She always left with her car stuffed to the brim. By the next month, however, she’d be back in ragged clothes. Our father, who had added gambling to his list of vices in this life, took everything of value and sold it for cash. My mother couldn’t bear to see Sophie living in poverty. She’d even tried to convince Arthur to let Sophie move in with us. Arthur had agreed, but surprisingly, our father refused to let her go. Sophie had become his lifeline, his tool for prying money and goods from our mother. “You’re going to read your brain into mush,” Sophie sneered, rummaging through my things. “What’s the point? You’re not as pretty as me, and Mom and Dad don’t even like you.” She paused, a cruel smile playing on her lips. “This life you have? This was supposed to be mine. I’m letting you have it. You just enjoy it while you can. It won’t last long.” She was right. In our previous life, this had been her princess bedroom. She surveyed the room with disgust. “Tsk, tsk. You don’t even know how to enjoy the good life. Look at all this junk you buy.” She gestured at my bookshelf. “All you do is stare at these stupid, smelly books.” I ignored her, letting her have her tantrum. “Sophie! Is that my darling girl I hear?” I watched, cold and detached, as they performed their little play of mother-daughter affection downstairs. When Mom came up and saw my room in disarray, she didn’t bat an eye. “What could you possibly find in her room? Come on, let’s go to mine. I just bought a ton of new clothes and jewelry. Take whatever you like.” She pulled Sophie out of the room, not once glancing my way, not a single word of concern for me. A few moments later, Maria, our housekeeper, came in with a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. She began tidying my room with practiced ease. “I have never seen a mother play favorites so openly,” she murmured. It doesn’t matter, I thought. Her good days are numbered. 4 A furious argument erupted downstairs. “You have no shame!” Arthur’s voice boomed through the house. “You live in my house, wear the clothes I buy you, and you’re cheating on me with some boy toy!” The sharp crack of a slap echoed, and I knew it had landed on my mother’s face. Sophie immediately rushed to intervene. Arthur, blind with rage, shoved her, and she stumbled to the floor. “And don’t even get me started on you,” he snarled at Sophie. “The agreement was one daughter each. Why are you always over here? Every time you show up, half the things in this house disappear!” “She takes my things, what’s it to you?” Mom retorted. “Your things? Look at yourself. Is there a single thing on your body that I didn’t pay for? And now you expect me to support your entire broke family?” “Don’t you dare, Arthur Quinn!” Mom screamed. “If you weren’t sterile, I wouldn’t have had to look elsewhere!” That was it. That was the line. My mother’s words had utterly destroyed him. He lost all control, grabbing her designer bags and clothes and hurling them toward the door. When she tried to stop him, he threw her to the ground. None of the staff dared to step in. Sophie cowered in a corner, motionless. Arthur had married my mother for two reasons: she was beautiful, and she came with two children. After the wedding, he had begun to mentor me, treating me almost like a successor. In the previous life, however, my mother had used this to her advantage, squandering Arthur’s fortune without a second thought. Sophie was beautiful but utterly vapid. That would have been tolerable, but the two of them were both greedy and foolish. Mom’s affairs were one thing, but Sophie had bragged all over town that everything Arthur owned would one day be hers. Word got back to Arthur, of course. No man wants to hear that his inheritance is already being claimed while he’s still alive. And in the end, they weren’t his flesh and blood. There was a distance that could never be closed. In that life, he eventually brought his nephew to live with him, training him as his heir and throwing my mother and sister out. This time, my mother was still thrown out. But he didn’t kick me out. “Tessa,” he said to me later, “you’re better off with me than with that shortsighted woman.” All my efforts had paid off. Arthur knew I was smart, ambitious, and had a vision for the future. I had made a point of consulting him on every important decision, always showing him my respect. I had even privately told him I wanted to take his last name. My mother, obsessed with shopping and gossip, knew nothing of this, nor would she have cared. Mom refused to leave, screaming that she would die in this house. She underestimated Arthur. A self-made man who had built an empire from nothing was not the same as my weak, foolish father. He wouldn’t be manipulated by her theatrics. “Maria, pack a few of her things,” he said calmly, then called security. Just like that, my mother and Sophie were thrown out. As Arthur passed my room, he placed a hand on my shoulder. “You just focus on your studies, Tessa. This is grown-up business. It has nothing to do with you.” I nodded. A fool is a fool, no matter how many lives they live. 5 My life continued, undisturbed. My mother called me secretly, begging me to put in a good word for her with Arthur. Of course, I refused. So she began calling daily, hurling the most vile insults at me. Without Mom’s financial support, Sophie’s life became even harder. Her grades were terrible, and she hated school. Seeing this, our father pulled her out completely. He was already drowning in gambling debt. I focused all my energy on preparing for my college entrance exams. Arthur was incredibly busy and rarely home. Not long after, on my way to school, I was ambushed. The car was in for maintenance that day, so I was walking home. I had just left the school grounds when a man called my name. “You Tessa?” Before I could answer, he clamped a hand over my mouth and dragged me into a waiting van. They took me to an abandoned warehouse. Someone kicked me hard in the stomach, and I crumpled to the ground, the pain stealing my breath. They didn’t say a word. They just beat me. “Well, well, sister. Is the mansion comfortable?” Sophie stepped out of the shadows and looked down at me, her face a mask of contempt. “You little bitch,” she spat. “I really underestimated you. That old man treats you like a treasure. He kicked Mom out, but you’re still living the high life.” “I’m going to find out just what kind of cheap tricks you used on him. It certainly wasn’t with that plain, boring face of yours.”

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The world ended. It’s every man for himself. To find sanctuary, I put on my best “innocent and helpless” act and knocked on Elias’s door. I know he has a basement. And I know he’s been waiting for a chance to lock me in it… 1 I stood at the rain-streaked window, watching the broken, twilit street below. A few dozen infected shambled aimlessly. It’s been almost six months since the outbreak. Six months since “preventable and controllable” collapsed into total system failure. I’ve been locked in this shoebox apartment, cut off from power, internet, and water. Even my hoarded food is almost gone. Through the glass, I traced the path of a raindrop. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt the sun, or touched anything outside these four walls. The infected on the street were in rags, their flesh rotting. I felt like I was rotting right along with them. Just then, a flash of red fell past my window. Thump. It hit the pavement, the body and the red dress blooming like a grotesque flower. Every infected on the street froze, their slow, shuffling movements stopping as one. They all turned. Then, like sharks smelling blood, they descended, a frantic mob tearing into the offering. I watched, numb. She was the girl from 14B. We’d nodded in the elevator once or twice. I knew she loved long dresses and sometimes brought home flowers. She was the eighteenth person from this building to jump this month. I couldn’t wait any longer. I was terrified I’d be next. I opened my closet, pulled out my sexiest slip dress, and sat at the dusty vanity. I put on just enough makeup to look human, then walked across the hall and knocked on his door. The door opened. Elias. He was immaculate. Crisp white shirt, slacks, elegant wire-rimmed glasses. His sleeves were rolled up, like he’d just been cooking. The smell of real food and the sound of classical music wafted from inside. It was like the apocalypse hadn’t bothered to give him a courtesy call. “I’m out of food,” I said, no preamble. “Is your offer still good?” A small, slow smile curved Elias’s lips. “Of course.” 2 Elias moved in across the hall over two years ago. He probably started “knowing” me long before that. A face in a coffee shop, a stranger on the subway, some influencer’s tagged photo at a bar. I was just another transplant trying to make it in the city, living a normal 9-to-5 grind. He was a tenured university professor from old money. We should have never crossed paths. But then the “coincidences” started piling up. The bar. The lobby of my office building. The same subway car, day after day. It happened so often, and he had a face that disarmed you, so we naturally fell into a “nodding acquaintance” routine. Then came the comments on my Instagram. The Venmo friend request, which he used to find my private handle. He was everywhere I was. It started to feel less like coincidence and more like terror. I suspected he was up to something, so I started moving in packs, never walking home from the train alone. Until one evening, I came home, and he was standing right in front of my door. His tall frame was slouched casually against the wall, the hallway light glinting off his glasses, his fingertips drumming a silent rhythm on his thigh. “What do you want?!” I completely lost it, fumbling in my bag for my pepper spray. “This is my apartment! You’re not welcome here!” He chuckled. A low, amused sound. He slowly pulled a set of keys from his pocket and dangled them. “Just a coincidence, I’m afraid. I bought a place here, too.” He theatrically inserted a key into the lock of the door opposite mine. “This is my home,” he’d said. My protest died in my throat. I was a renter. He’d bought the other three units on my floor and had them combined into one sprawling apartment. 3 Before the fall, that was Elias. I knew he wasn’t normal. No sane person fixates on another human being like that. But every single one of his actions was, technically, legal. He never touched me. He was never violent. He was always polite. Even his social media comments were blandly supportive. If I called the cops, what would I even say? Even my best friend, after months of my spiraling paranoia, thought I was losing it. “Maybe he just has a crush on you, Elara?” But I knew. He was a lunatic. A genuine, patient, terrifying lunatic. He was playing a game. A cat-and-mouse game where he was the cat, and he was enjoying the silent, suffocating tension. He loved knowing I was terrified and had no one to turn to. I tried to move. Elias, in a gesture of “neighborly kindness,” even offered to come with me to look at new apartments. As the realtor droned on, Elias pointed to a listing. “I think this one is nice.” I wasn’t interested. I just wanted to go somewhere, anywhere, he didn’t know about. “You know,” he’d added idly, “I’ve been thinking of buying in this neighborhood, too.” The realtor beamed. I felt my blood run cold. I understood his message perfectly: No matter where you go, I will be there. He was a patient spider, weaving this massive, invisible web. And he was just waiting, one step away, for me to walk right into it. The zombie apocalypse didn’t create this situation. It just smashed the pause button on our stalemate and hit fast-forward. 4 My apartment was a studio. Elias’s was a custom-built fortress. “Your supplies lasted this long,” he said, his voice smooth as silk. “I’m impressed.” After the world went to hell, he’d “neighborly” invited me over for dinner three times. I refused all three. We both knew what that invitation really meant. Now, he was just making casual conversation, as if he wasn’t a predator and I wasn’t his prey. “How much food do you have?” “Just a bit.” He opened a pantry door. It wasn’t a pantry; it was a storage room. Floor-to-ceiling shelves packed with rice, pasta, and cans. Spam, Chef Boyardee, corned beef hash, smoked salmon… I swallowed hard. I’d been eating canned tuna—and for the last three days, my cat’s food. The cat food I’d traded my last box of tampons for in the building’s barter group. “What are you in the mood for?” He leaned against the doorframe, his voice low. The storage room was small, and he was too close. His voice felt like static electricity on the back of my neck. I took a step back. “Whatever.” “Whatever?” He paused, then smiled again. “Alright. I’ll make us ‘whatever.’” As he passed me, he casually tossed a small box into my hands. I looked down. Tampax Pearl. I… I walked out of his storage room and sat in his living room. It was the first time I’d ever been inside. Spotless. Heavy curtains, thick rugs. And through it all, the classical music, powered by some small generator. The growls of the infected outside were just a faint, ignorable buzz. I watched the strong lines of his back as he expertly prepped frozen steak and vegetables from a mini-fridge. I needed to figure out how to avoid becoming just another item in his pantry. 5 Elias was a good cook. I wasn’t surprised. A man like him seemed to be perfect at everything he did. We sat at opposite ends of a long, formal dining table. Low lights, classical music, fresh vegetables and meat, a single lit candle. It was a date I couldn’t have afforded even in the old world. I was wolfing down the food, all pretense of manners gone. It had been so long since I’d eaten anything that wasn’t preserved in salt or tin. He swirled a glass of red wine. “Slow down. No one’s going to steal it.” I couldn’t help myself. In this, we were no better than the infected—driven by a base, desperate hunger. When I was finally full, I put down my fork and wiped my mouth. I looked at him, my voice cold. “It was delicious.” “My pleasure.” That perfect smile. “What do you want?” I asked. The rain outside lashed against the windows. “What do I have to pay for this meal?” I repeated, staring him down. I’m not an idiot. I know what the world is now. Supplies are the only currency. Dark bargains are the new normal. My DMs in the building’s defunct chat app were full of offers: A meal for a few hours. No strings. They didn’t even bother to be polite. A starving girl has no negotiating power. Elias’s invitation was classier, but the subtext was the same. He was offering a feast. The payment would have to match. The stereo switched to a slow, romantic ballad. We stared at each other, a perfect picture of a couple at dinner. But I knew this was a transaction. Elias laughed. He actually threw his head back and laughed, a full, rich sound. He took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just dinner, Elara. Why so tense?” He put his glasses back on, his eyes sharp. “The way you were looking at me, I thought you were going to bite me. I’m the one who invited you, but you look like I’m the one who offended you.” I narrowed my eyes. “I have nothing to pay you with. Except cat food.” “I don’t need you to pay me.” Elias idly pushed a piece of steak around his plate. He looked up, his eyes catching the light. “…Except for one thing.” “What?” “Guess.” That infuriating, playful smile was back. I clenched my fists under the table. Then, slowly, I relaxed them. I stood up and started gathering the plates. He might be a psycho, but I’m not. I have basic manners. I silently cleared the table, went into his kitchen, and started washing the dishes. When I finished, Elias was sitting on the sofa, reading a book under a brass floor lamp. His long legs were crossed. He glanced up as I came out. “Very domestic.” I… “If there’s nothing else,” I said, untying the apron I’d found, “I’ll be going.” Elias just grunted, his eyes already back on his book. That’s it? I walked to the door, still in disbelief. A stalker who’s been obsessed with me for years, in a world with no rules, finally gets me—desperate and starving—into his apartment… just to feed me? Elias, are you broken? I frowned, glancing back at him, and bent down to put on my shoes. The second my fingers touched the heel, I heard it. A low, guttural groan from the other side of the door. A sound I heard every day, all day. I froze. I put my shoes down silently and looked through the peephole. The hallway was dark. Nothing. I must have imagined it. But just as I started to pull away, a single, blood-red eyeball pressed against the glass from the other side, staring right at me. I screamed and stumbled backward—right into a solid chest. Elias was already behind me. His arm snaked around my waist, steadying me easily. The infected outside slammed against the heavy door. He looked down at me, his eyes tracking to my lips, and that slow smile returned. “Oh dear. Looks like you can’t go home after all.” I glanced at his Bluetooth speaker. It finally clicked. Why he was playing music loud enough to be heard in the hall. Asshole. He did it on purpose. My apartment was ten feet away, but I couldn’t go back. Elias. You magnificent bastard. 6 The sky was dark. The rain kept falling. Elias was reading. I was trapped. This was his plan all along. Invite me over. Use the music as a lure. He knew zombies had good hearing. We’re on a high floor, but they can climb stairs. It just takes them a while. After six months, the lower floors were all empty. The building group chat had been full of warnings: Stay out of the stairwells. Keeping quiet was rule number one. You had to live like the dead to avoid the dead. Elias, who had survived this long in such comfort, knew this. I looked at his thick, plush Persian rugs, the sound-dampening panels on the walls. He knew. He’d used a single meal to lure the infected and cut off my only escape route. Brilliant. I had to talk to him. “Hey,” I whispered. Elias just shifted his book, one eye peering over the top. The zombie at the door heard me. It started scratching furiously. “Shh.” He put a finger to his lips. “You lured it here. Can you kill it,” I mouthed. Elias put his book down and, with perfect politeness, mouthed back: Can’t hear you. I… I got up, barefoot on the soft rug, and walked over to him. “Kill it,” I mouthed, pointing at the door. He tilted his head, showing off his perfect jawline, and pointed to his ear. His expression was angelic. I… I bit my lip, tucked my hair behind my ear, and leaned in close, whispering in a voice only we could hear, “Kill. It.” Elias leaned back slightly, his eyes narrowing behind his glasses. He crooked a finger, beckoning me closer. This time, he leaned in, his lips brushing my ear. “Heh.” A puff of hot breath hit my neck, followed by his low, amused rumble. “Why don’t you just kill me?” My eyes flew open. His voice was low and magnetic, and it made my quiet whispering feel ridiculous. The zombie at the door went even crazier; I could hear the metal of the doorframe groaning. In that instant, we just stared at each other. I wasn’t sure who was more unhinged—him, or the thing at the door. Just as I was about to really let him have it, he yanked me by the wrist, pulling me into his lap and clamping a hand over my mouth, all in one fluid motion. “Shh—” His voice was a vibration that seemed to pass from his chest to mine. “Someone’s coming. Let them handle it.” His embrace was like steel. For the first time, I felt the terrifying strength hidden under that polite, professorial exterior. As he spoke, he reached over and turned a small, black cube on the side table. Instantly, the entire apartment went dark and silent. The lights died, the fridge hummed into silence. In the quiet, with only the sound of the rain, I could hear two heartbeats. Mine was a frantic rabbit. His was… also fast. Faster than his cool, woody cologne would suggest. His hot breath puffed against my neck. I struggled, and his arms just tightened. “Listen.” It might have been the word, or it might have been a kiss brushing my skin. I couldn’t tell. But I closed my eyes, and I heard it. Footsteps. Heavy, frantic, and clashing with the sound of the rain. Someone was coming down the stairs. The zombie, drawn by the new sound, groaned and moved away from our door. A second later, the thud of the stairwell door being kicked open echoed down the hall. A fight broke out. Curses, a sickening thwack. The infected shrieked as an axe—it had to be an axe—bit into it, over and over. I knew it was just a monster, but I couldn’t stop shaking. Elias’s hand moved from my mouth, sliding down to wrap around me in a full embrace. It was too warm, too safe. I was enveloped in his clean, woody scent, and my terrified, clenched spine just… relaxed. But a moment later, a voice from the hall made my blood run cold. “That music definitely came from this apartment. Let’s hit it!” I sat bolt upright. Raiders. The building was full of them now. For the first two months, the tenants’ group chat was for sharing info. Then the supplies ran out, and people turned into animals. Anyone who even hinted at having extra food got hit. I’d heard them at night, ambushing neighbors. Sometimes for just a single pack of ramen. The only thing scarier than the dead was the living. The voices outside continued. “Who the hell is playing music in the middle of this shit? They gotta be loaded! Anyone know who lives here?” “No idea, man. They’re not in the group chat.” “Heh. Hiding, huh?” “Boss, maybe we just heard it wrong… Who’d be stupid enough to make noise? If they’re not in the chat, the apartment’s probably empty.” “Shut up, you idiot! That means they don’t need the chat. It means they’re self-sufficient. They’ve probably even got a generator!” A metallic screech came from the door. A crowbar. This was bad. I looked at Elias, frantic. He still looked completely unbothered, a faint smile on his lips, as if it wasn’t his door they were trying to bust down. I grabbed his shirt. Do something! Elias put on a show of thinking hard, then held out his hand. His lips moved: Phone. I had no idea what he wanted it for, but the door was visibly bowing. I dug it out of my dress pocket and gave it to him. The power had been out for ages, but we all charged our battery packs during the rare hours the grid came back up. Elias took my phone and, to my horror, unlocked it with a casual swipe. He knew my passcode. As I reeled from that, he opened my Bluetooth settings. Connected, at the top of the list: Elara’s Speaker. My stomach dropped. That was my S.O.S. I didn’t know what I was walking into. Before I came over, I’d set up a plan. If he tried anything, I’d hit a macro on my phone, and my speaker would blast a pre-recorded “Help me,” along with his name and apartment number. How did he know? How did he know about my escape plan? I watched, frozen, as he opened my Spotify, selected a Mozart playlist, and his long finger pressed ‘Play.’ Across the hall, my own apartment burst into music. “Shit! It’s the other one!” “Dumbass is practically begging to be robbed!” “I know that unit. It’s just some chick. Probably already turned. Even if she hasn’t, one axe is all it takes. C’mon!” The prying at Elias’s door stopped. The footsteps rushed across the hall. Click. Elias locked my phone and, never letting go of my waist, settled back into the darkness. I sat in his lap, listening to the sound of raiders destroying my home. And he held me, his hands easily wrapped around my last-ditch effort at survival, as if it were nothing at all.

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The finale of the horror simulation concluded, and I was one Shade short. As the Warden of this place, I sealed the exits instantly, trapping all five hundred players inside the final chamber. “A Shade has escaped its programming,” my voice boomed through the hall, metallic and devoid of warmth. “If it breaks containment, the entire system initiates a Purge Protocol. Myself, and the other two thousand Shades bound to this simulation, will be deleted.” I let the silence hang for a beat, heavy and suffocating. “I’m giving you five minutes to find it. Or I’m cutting the oxygen.” A wave of pleas and denials crashed against my feet. Five hundred players, dropping to their knees. “They don’t have a label on their forehead! How are we supposed to know?” one of them yelled, his voice cracking with panic. “Maybe you just miscounted!” “Let us go! We’re innocent!” another cried. Innocent? A bitter, silent laugh echoed in the cavern of my chest. I twisted the master valve, and the hiss of the life support system died. “It seems your loyalty is worth more than your lives.” I knew. The rogue Shade was hiding among them, wearing a player’s face. And every single one of them was in on it. 1 The moment the air stopped circulating, the chamber descended into madness. “We told you, we don’t know anything! Are you trying to kill us all?” “Don’t forget the rules, Warden! Every game has a minimum survival quota. If we all die, you go down with us!” They were right, of course. If the survival rate dropped below the mandated threshold, the final deletion would be me, the master program. The big boss. But compared to the agony of a System Purge—a slow, digital unraveling—a quick death was a mercy. Seconds bled into minutes. Players were already clutching their chests, their faces turning pale. Lank, the long-tongued Shade who served as my lieutenant, materialized beside me. His whisper was a dry rasp. “Warden… they look like they’re telling the truth. Are you certain you didn’t make a mistake?” Impossible. I had presided over this Purgatory from its inception, for centuries of simulated time. I knew the count of my charges better than I knew my own code. “Please… my baby,” a woman sobbed, crawling forward. “He’s just a child.” This one had been duped into the game by her husband, desperate for the ten-million-dollar prize. I signaled to Lank. He snatched the infant from her arms, and the baby’s terrified wail pierced the rising panic. “You monster! Give me back my son!” She scrambled on the floor, her eyes darting wildly, scanning the faces around her. “You! Are you the one? Are you the Shade?” “What the hell? I’m a player, you psycho!” She accused one after another, receiving the same denials until her spirit finally shattered. She collapsed, her sobs raw and animalistic. Her crying was grating on my last nerve. I strode forward and my palm cracked across her cheek, silencing her. “One more sound, and I snap his neck right now.” Her eyes, wide with terror, locked onto the child in my grasp. She choked back her tears, her body trembling with the effort. “Picking on a baby doesn’t make you tough!” someone shouted from the crowd. “This is your failure of management, Warden! Why are you blaming us?” The accusations flew from every corner, a chorus of condemnation. But not one of them offered a single clue. I lifted the screaming infant into the air. “You have five minutes. If you don’t give me the Shade, this child dies. After that, I will kill one player every sixty seconds.” I knew. Every last player in this room was protecting the missing Shade. Including his mother. “Warden,” Gallows, my headless enforcer, muttered from behind me. “The hall’s reserve oxygen will only last another thirty minutes. If they still refuse to talk…” “Then we all die together,” I said, my gaze fixed on the child in my hands. His tiny body had gone limp, sleeping in my grip. For a fleeting moment, my fingers twitched with the urge to simply squeeze. Centuries. I had played this part for centuries, and I was so incredibly tired. An ending like this didn’t seem like a threat. It felt like a release. “Still no one wants to be honest?” Lank and Gallows kept their heads bowed, fearing my temper. I walked back to the mother, my voice dropping to a somber, final tone. “I regret to inform you that you failed to provide the required information in the allotted time. Therefore, this child’s life is forfeit.” Before the words had fully settled, I acted. I didn’t kill the child. Not yet. But the message was sent, painted in crimson on the faces of the nearest players. He was left with the barest thread of life. “You… you’ll burn in hell for this!” the mother shrieked. Funny. For me, that was the equivalent of wishing me a long life. “Well? Ready to give up the Shade now?” She lifted her head, her eyes burning with a hatred so pure it was almost beautiful. “Spit. You demon. You will never find him.” Ah. So that’s how it would be. “He’s yours,” I said, dropping the bleeding child into Lank’s waiting arms. His jaw went slack, a line of saliva tracing a path down his chin. He stared at the infant like it was a feast. The game has rules. One of the most important is this: A player consumed by a Shade is erased from existence. No afterlife, no respawn. Just… nothing. The mother knew the rule. The defiance in her eyes dissolved into sheer, primal terror. “I’ll talk,” she sobbed, breaking completely. “I’ll talk.” 2 Lank licked his lips, reluctantly placing the child back into my arms. “Speak,” I commanded. The mother raised her head, her gaze sweeping across the crowd before quickly falling again. “The Shade is…” She never finished. A sickening thud echoed through the hall, and she crumpled to the floor, a pool of blood spreading from beneath her. “Whoops. Hand slipped,” a man with a jagged scar across his face said with a grin, holding a small, wicked-looking blade. He stood there, casual, as if he’d just dropped a pen. The truth, snatched from my grasp. A cold fury I hadn’t felt in decades ignited within me. “You’re looking for death!” My hand shot out, closing around his throat. I lifted him off the ground, his face darkening to a bruised purple. “If… I… die…” he choked out, “…you’ll never… find him.” A threat? I loosened my grip, letting him crash to the floor, gasping and coughing. “Talk,” I said, my patience wearing thin. “While I still have some.” He looked up, a manic glint in his eyes. “What if I told you he’s already dead?” Trying to deceive me? Fool. My boot connected with his ribs, sending him flying across the floor. He staggered to his feet, wiping a smear of blood from his lips. “Believe it or not,” he rasped, “it’s the truth. He’s dead.” The rogue Shade was among the players. And every single one of them was a collaborator. “Take him,” I ordered my lieutenants. “Give him a private tour of the Abyss.” A collective gasp went through the remaining players. The Abyss was our deepest, most tormenting level. In the entire history of the Purgatory, its survival rate was a perfect zero. It was a death sentence, just a very, very slow one. “The Shade is dead! Why are you still doing this to us?” a man who had been cowering in a corner finally found his voice. I had Gallows drag him before me. “You feel so strongly for him. Perhaps you’d like to take his place?” The man went silent immediately, shrinking back into the crowd. Seeing the scar-faced man was still defiant, Lank’s tongue shot out, ready to wrap around him and drag him away. At the last second, the man frantically pulled something from his pocket and held it up. “I bet you recognize this!” Lank retrieved the object and presented it to me. “Warden… it’s a Shade’s sigil.” He was right. It was one of the tokens I issued to my Shades. They served two purposes: to differentiate them from the player simulations and to act as a distress beacon if they were in mortal danger. A Shade would only abandon their sigil at the moment of their true death. But a simple trick like this wasn’t going to fool me. “Now you have proof the Shade is dead! You can let us go now, right?” “Please, I can’t breathe…” I nodded to Gallows. He reconnected the main oxygen line. The wilted players instantly revived, gulping down the clean air. “Warden, maybe we should let them go,” Gallows suggested quietly. “Every second they remain, they drain more of the system’s resources.” His words made sense. I glanced at the sigil in my hand and offered a cold smile. “Let them go.” 3 The players scrambled toward the massive gate, the one that represented freedom and their prize money. “Ten million dollars, here I come! I’m gonna find ten girls and…” “The Purgatory ain’t so tough! I’m coming back tomorrow…” Their faces were masks of greed and relief. But the moment the gate began to slide open, their smiles vanished. With a flick of my wrist, I disintegrated the first ten players who reached the threshold. The gate slammed shut again. The scar-faced man, seeing his hope of escape evaporate, finally snapped. “You said you’d let us go! What is this?” The others erupted. “What the hell? Why did they get to leave and we’re still stuck here?” “The ten players I just ‘released’ have satisfied the game’s minimum survival quota,” I explained calmly. “Now, I can kill every last one of you, and it wouldn’t even be a violation of my programming.” Panic, pure and undiluted, washed over their faces. I let it sink in before continuing. “However. The first player to hand over the Shade gets to live.” The fear on their faces was instantly wiped away, replaced by suspicion. I sweetened the deal. “Find me the traitor who helped him, and I’ll give you a ten-million-dollar bonus.” That did it. The scar-faced man immediately balked. “What traitor? There’s no traitor! You’re just making things up to mess with us!” Oh, there was a traitor. A traitor who had planned this from the very beginning. Without his instigation, no Shade would ever dare dream of escaping. Not even in death. “So, the goal is to find the escaped Shade and the traitor,” I clarified. The scar-faced man shot back, “He’s dead! What’s the point of looking for him?” A thin smile stretched my lips. “I want to see a body.” 4 At my command, the players scattered, a frantic search beginning. Only the scar-faced man remained, squatting in a corner, unmoving. “Why aren’t you looking?” I asked, approaching him. “Not tempted by that extra ten million?” He shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping him. “It doesn’t matter. You’re not going to let any of us leave anyway.” Was he implying I was untrustworthy? Just then, a few players ran up to me, out of breath. “Forget it. We don’t want the bonus. Just let us go.” “Useless,” I snarled. I grabbed their necks, and in an instant, the two of them dissolved into a fine red mist. The scar-faced man watched, his eyes wide, not daring to blink. “That traitor is a real piece of work,” I mused aloud, looking at him. “Getting so many innocent people killed.” He swallowed hard and gave a stiff, jerky nod. A short while later, a tall player came running over, his face alight with excitement. “Warden! I found the Shade! You can let us go now, right?” The scar-faced man’s head snapped up, a look of genuine surprise on his face. “Where?” I asked. The tall player pointed triumphantly at a set of ancient, crumbling remains in a dark alcove. “Right there. That’s him.” I almost laughed. Did this idiot truly think I was a fool? I arched an eyebrow. “Are you sure? Lying to me has consequences.” A flicker of doubt crossed his face, but he firmed his jaw and nodded. “I’m sure. That’s him.” “Excellent.” I placed my hand on his head. The six-foot man collapsed into a neat pile of splintered bone. The other players who had come to report their findings saw this and their legs gave out from under them. “You… you go first. I’m not…” I signaled to Lank and Gallows, who herded the rest of the search parties before me. “Report. What have you found?” Their voices were so faint with terror they were barely audible. “N-nothing… w-we searched… everywhere… not a trace.” Good. At least these were more honest than the last one. I let my fangs descend, two feet of polished ivory, and gave them a smile that wasn’t a smile. “The traitor,” I said slowly, “is standing among you right now.” That single sentence shattered their fragile unity. “It’s you! You’re the traitor, aren’t you? You know where the Shade is!” “Bullshit! Warden, he’s the one!” The chamber devolved into a brawl, players turning on each other. But I noticed something interesting. No one dared to confront the scar-faced man. “Why are they afraid to question you?” I asked him quietly. He looked completely unfazed. “I’m a dead man walking. They’re not wasting their time on me.” I just smiled. After the fighting died down, the players were bruised and bloodied, their paranoia now cemented. They were more convinced than ever that the traitor was one of their own. “Warden, you know who it is, don’t you?” one of them pleaded. “Please, stop torturing us.” “Fine,” I said. My eyes landed on the scar-faced man. “Let me see that sigil again.” He hesitated for a moment before handing it over. I tossed the small, cold token in my hand, a true laugh finally bubbling up. The traitor had just exposed himself. You’re mine now, I thought. My rogue Shade.

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The call came from a cop. My husband, he told me, had been caught in a vice raid. I was numb. But it wasn’t until I got to the precinct, until I saw the face of the woman sobbing in Ethan’s arms—a face contorted into a mask of perfect, pear-blossom sorrow—that the numbness curdled into something else. A profound, weary sense of pointlessness. I walked right up to him. Ethan instinctively shielded the woman, his mouth already forming an explanation. I slapped him. Hard. “Ethan,” I said, my voice dangerously quiet. “You’re disgusting.” 1 The crack of the slap echoed in the sterile air of the police station. It was so sharp, so final, that even the officer who had been briefing me fell silent. I watched Ethan, his hand cupped to his reddening cheek, still processing. I raised my hand to strike him again, but the woman in his arms suddenly lurched forward, taking the blow for him. The slap landed on her cheek, and her sobs intensified. “What the hell is wrong with you?” she wailed, her voice cracking. “How could you hit him?” She glared at me through her tears, a picture of defiant fragility. “You don’t ask what happened, you don’t care about the truth, you just storm in here hitting people. Who do you think you are?” I looked at her, at this masterfully crafted performance, and felt a laugh bubble up, cold and hollow. It was so ridiculous I didn’t want to waste a single word on her. I lifted my hand again. This time, Ethan caught my wrist. “That’s enough.” His voice was ice. “This isn’t one of your little dramas, Ava,” he said, his grip tightening. “Can you, for once, not make a scene wherever you go?” He shoved me away. I stumbled backward, the corner of a desk jamming into my lower back. A dull, throbbing pain shot through me, making me wince. A flicker of guilt crossed Ethan’s face. He started to reach for me, but the woman beat him to it, stepping forward with a fresh cascade of tears. “Ava, it’s not what you think,” she explained, her voice choked with emotion. “There’s nothing going on between me and Ethan. He just… he saw I was in trouble and wanted to help me. Someone set us up, they called the cops and lied, said we were… you know. You’ve been with Ethan for years. You know what kind of man he is.” Her crying grew louder, more desperate, as if she were the one truly wronged. “If I were you,” she sobbed, “I would never humiliate my husband in public like this. Can’t you take it home? Don’t you know the most important thing to a man is his pride?” Her tears worked their magic on Ethan. The guilt in his eyes hardened back into cold indifference. He put a protective arm around her, his face a mask of disappointment aimed at me. “There was nothing going on between me and Chloe.” “I’ve explained this to you a hundred times,” he said, his voice sharp as he shielded her. “Just because your own mind is dirty, doesn’t mean you have to see filth everywhere you look.” On the way here, I’d considered every possibility. I’d thought maybe he’d been set up, and I’d mentally run through the lawyers I would call. I’d thought maybe a business rival had framed him to destabilize our company. But I never, not for a second, thought it would be because of her. Chloe again. Always Chloe. The nightclub hostess Ethan had “discovered” six months ago. His tragic little thing, the “sad little stray” he couldn’t stop talking about. He’d cast himself as God in his own redemption story, determined to save her from her circumstances. It led to furious, explosive fights between us, again and again. And every single time, he would defend her. It was always my fault. I was the one being aggressive, being unreasonable. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. I brought up divorce. That shocked him into silence. “I promise,” he’d said, his voice breaking. “Chloe will never come between us again.” “It’s you or her. How could I not know who to choose?” He had cried then, begging me for another chance, telling me he loved me. And my heart, like a fool, had softened. I thought we’d weathered the storm. I thought Chloe had been permanently kicked out of our lives. But it hadn’t even been a month, and here she was again—his tragic little stray, making a spectacular return. I looked at Ethan, standing there as her self-appointed protector, and a fatigue so deep it felt like it was in my bones washed over me. It dragged me down, sucking the very air from my lungs. “Fine. Let’s just stop.” 2 My voice was a whisper, so quiet that Ethan froze. He asked me to repeat myself. “What did you say?” “Ava,” he pressed, “what did you just say?” “I said, let’s stop,” I repeated, fighting to keep my voice steady. I was done letting this drama dictate my emotions. “I’ll sign the papers to bail you out. You can keep playing God in your little redemption story. Be her hero.” I ignored the flicker of triumph on Chloe’s face and met Ethan’s stunned gaze. I even managed a small, brittle smile. “But we’re done.” “Ethan.” “Let’s get a divorce.” The silence in the car on the way from the station was heavy enough to suffocate. Ethan refused to accept the divorce, so he forced his way into my passenger seat. Which meant, by extension, his little stray squeezed into the back. Chloe stayed quiet, letting Ethan do the talking. “There’s really nothing between me and Chloe,” he began, trying to keep his temper in check. “I was out with Mark and the guys tonight,” he explained. “We went for karaoke after dinner, and we just happened to run into her.” “You know her life is hard, Ava. She’s got her kid, her parents… she’s all they have. I saw this guy dragging her into his car, so I followed them to the hotel. If it wasn’t for me—” He was cut off by a sound from the back seat. Chloe was weeping softly. “Ava.” “I never wanted to take anything from you,” she said between gasps. “My life… it hasn’t been easy. My ex-husband was abusive. That’s why I left him, to protect my son.” “If I didn’t have him, my little boy…” “If my life were different,” she stopped crying for a moment, her gaze finding Ethan’s in the rearview mirror, full of adoration. “I would fight for him. I would fight and I would claw for a man like him!” “Because he’s Ethan!” “Because he’s a good man!” “Because he—” I slammed on the brakes. The Porsche screeched to a halt in the middle of the street. I turned and looked at Chloe’s stunned face, then at Ethan’s look of profound, moved pity. I laughed. “Well, in that case,” I said, hitting the button to unlock the doors and rolling down the windows. “We’re right in front of a hotel.” “Consider this my blessing.” “You’ve got money for a room, right?” The sneer in my voice was unmistakable as I met Ethan’s darkening gaze. “This time it’s all above board. You have the wife’s official permission.” “Go on.” “No one’s going to call the cops and drag you back to the station.” “And as for whether or not you create another little ‘burden’,” my eyes drifted down to Chloe’s stomach, “that’s your business.” The cheap perfume in the car was overwhelming, a cloying scent that felt like an invasive vine wrapping around my heart, making it hard to breathe. I was trying to control myself, but my words had clearly struck a nerve. Chloe scrambled out of the car, then turned to yell at me. “Ava!” “You’re a cruel, heartless bitch!” The second she was out, Ethan turned on me. “I can’t believe you’ve become this twisted,” he snarled, grabbing my wrist. “Chloe has no one in this city, no friends, no family. Where is she supposed to go this late at night?” 3 “How can you be so cruel to someone who’s done nothing to you?” “Ava! Get out of the car and apologize to her!” His grip was bruising. I looked at this man, the man whose world once revolved entirely around me, and I felt my heart turn to ice, inch by painful inch. I slapped him again, right across the face. “Apologize?” I stared at his shocked expression. “In your dreams.” I reached over, unbuckled his seatbelt, and pointed to the door. “Get out.” He stared at me as if I were a complete stranger, a monster he’d never seen before. “You’re going to regret this,” he bit out. Then, he slammed the door and was gone. Through the window, I watched him run to catch up with his tragic stray. He grabbed her arm. I saw her struggle for a moment, then collapse into his arms, her body shaking with sobs. A chasm cracked open inside my chest, and a bitter wind howled through it. The pain was so sharp that my hands were trembling on the steering wheel. As I finally drove past them, two figures huddled together in the cold night, I saw her. Over Ethan’s shoulder, Chloe’s eyes met mine. She gave me a look of pure, triumphant victory. The message was clear. In this war, she had won. We were in a deep freeze. A cold war. Ethan’s friends started calling, all of them acting as peacemakers, all of them pleading his case. “Ava, he just feels sorry for her. It’s pity, not love. You can’t overthink this,” one of our mutual friends, Mark, told me. “You two have been through so much to get here. The last time Ethan got drunk, he was crying your name. He said… he said Chloe reminds him of how you used to be, all alone and fighting for everything. He thinks by helping her, he’s making up for the times he couldn’t protect you back then.” Hearing Mark talk about our past… it was like a punch to the gut. I remembered us, white-knuckling our way up from nothing. I remembered us as kids, practically fighting stray dogs for scraps. I remembered the day our parents went on a trip together and never came back, killed in the same accident. We were orphans. Then, greedy relatives picked our inheritance clean, and we went from orphans to homeless kids on the street. I remembered Ethan holding me tight, his small body trembling as he promised me. “Ava.” “I’m going to give you a home. I swear it.” Back then, a “home” was an impossible dream. Among the city’s millions of lights, not a single one was for us. Every brick, every window, was impossibly expensive. But Ethan did it. He put me in a penthouse apartment in the highest glass tower downtown. He filled it with our memories. He was so afraid I’d hurt myself that he put soft, cushioned bumpers on every sharp corner of the furniture. He used to always say. “Ava, in my heart, you’ll always be a kid.” “I want my Ava.” “To be the happiest princess in the world.” “My little princess.” Now. Now, my friends were telling me: “Come on, every guy messes around a little. Ethan’s one of the good ones. He doesn’t gamble, he doesn’t have a mistress. His whole world is you, Ava. Stop making this a big deal.” I knew what this was. They were his messengers, sent to build a bridge for me to crawl back across. All I had to do was take the first step, and just like every other fight we’d ever had, we could pretend nothing happened. We could turn the page. But for the first time, I didn’t want to. I was stubborn. So stubborn that when I saw Chloe’s latest post on Instagram, something inside me finally snapped. It was a picture of her and her son on a Ferris wheel, both of them beaming. The caption read: My son says it doesn’t matter if a dad isn’t biological. As long as there’s love, you’re family. And there, in the corner of the photo, was a man’s hand. A hand with long, elegant fingers. I would know that hand anywhere. I’d held it for almost thirty years. On one of those fingers was a ring I designed myself, the one Ethan had custom-made for our wedding. 4 My heart ached until it was numb, until I thought I couldn’t feel anything anymore. Then my phone buzzed. It was a video from Chloe. In the video, her son, Leo, was holding onto Ethan’s arm, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes. “Uncle Ethan, can you be my daddy?” “Can I call you Dad?” The boy swung his arm playfully. “You’re the best uncle in the whole world. You’re my superhero.” “I really, really like you, and I wish I had a dad just like you.” “Please, can you be my dad? Pleeease?” Chloe’s voice floated in from off-camera. “Leo, don’t be silly.” And then Ethan’s voice, gently chiding her. “How is that silly?” He knelt, bringing himself down to the boy’s level, his eyes impossibly soft. “You like me?” The boy nodded enthusiastically. “You want me to be your dad?” An even more vigorous nod. And then Ethan said, “Okay.” “Then you can call me Dad. How does that sound?” The boy’s shriek of joy echoed through the video. A moment later, a voice message from Chloe arrived. “Ava.” “Tell me. What do you have left to fight me with?” “You should just give up.” I listened to her voice, a triumphant echo in the silent room, as my best friend, Maya, watched me with worried eyes. “Ava, the baby… are you really not going to tell him?” Maya said, “If you just tell him you’re pregnant, that you’re having his child, I know he’ll come back to you.” “But I don’t want him to.” I placed a hand on my abdomen. A new life was growing there. Our baby. Ethan’s and mine. The child we had hoped for, for so many years. But now… now, I didn’t want to be a mother. Not if it meant bringing a child into a life shadowed by a broken home, just like mine had been. I looked at Maya. “The moment he chose Chloe, the moment he agreed to be another child’s father…” “He lost the right to be the father of mine.” The day of my scheduled abortion, I saw him. Ethan was at the hospital with Chloe and her son. The second he saw me, he instinctively dropped the boy’s hand. “Ava.” “What are you doing here?” He saw the clinic paperwork in my hand and started towards me. “Are you sick?” “What’s wrong? Why didn’t you tell me?” Before I could answer, Chloe shoved her son forward. The boy immediately burst into tears and grabbed Ethan’s arm. “Daddy!” “My tummy hurts,” he wailed, pulling Ethan away from me. “Ow, ow, it hurts so bad!” I watched the conflict in Ethan’s eyes. The hesitation. And then, the decision. He scooped the boy into his arms and looked back at me, his face a mixture of apology and impatience. “Honey, we have to prioritize. You understand, right?” He started to walk away. I felt a hysterical laugh build in my chest. Just then, Maya came back with the payment receipts, saw the whole scene, and exploded. “You son of a bitch!” “How dare you show your face here!” “Oh, this is rich,” she stalked towards Ethan. “No time for your wife, but plenty of time to play daddy to this little bastard, huh?” She grabbed Ethan’s arm. “You’re not going anywhere! Do you have any idea what Ava is—” “I’m not a bastard!” The boy launched himself out of Ethan’s arms and charged at Maya. She wasn’t ready for it. I reacted without thinking, shoving her out of the way. The boy’s hard little head slammed directly into my abdomen. A universe of pain exploded inside me. My back hit the wall, and I slid to the floor, my whole body trembling. But the boy wasn’t done. He kicked me, his small sneaker connecting with my stomach. “You bitch!” he screamed, his face red and tear-streaked. “You’re a nasty bitch!” “You’re trying to steal my daddy!” “You nasty, evil bitch!” A crowd was gathering. Murmurs turned into accusations, all aimed at me. I was the homewrecker. Shameless. Disgusting. And Ethan… Ethan just stood on the edge of the crowd, looking down at me. As if he was waiting for me to admit I was wrong. As if he was waiting for an apology. But I was too weak, the pain was too much. I could barely breathe, let alone speak. “E…than…” “Ethan… help…” My voice was a shredded whisper. I wanted him to call a doctor. But the boy chose that moment to throw himself on the floor, rolling and screaming that his stomach was killing him. I saw one last flicker of indecision in Ethan’s eyes before it vanished. He picked up the boy, and as he turned to leave, he looked down at me one last time. “Ava.” “You really need to take a long, hard look at yourself.”

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I died. And I came back as a snake. A King Cobra… Every time I go to the creek to drink, I scare the scales off myself. I look intimidating. It’s terrifying. I was still getting used to my new body when, naturally, mating season arrived. You have got to be kidding me. I’m a sentient snake. I’m not just going to pop out a clutch of eggs for just anyone. Unfortunately, other sentient snakes had… other ideas. I looked at the short, dumpy Copperhead coiling up next to me. I warned him to back off. Or he was lunch. 1 “C’mon, baby. We’re the only two sentient ones around here. Who else are you gonna do it with?” the Copperhead lisped, flicking his tongue. Is breeding ALL you think about? God, so annoying. I’m just going to eat him. Gulp. Burp. Okay, that hit the spot. My new cobra DNA makes me want to eat every other snake I see. It’s either eat or die. An easy choice. I didn’t expect the Copperhead to be so… nutritious. No, that’s not right. He was full of power. So much power that I… I shifted. I had hands. And feet. I could stand up. This felt amazing. You have no idea how many times I accidentally tied myself in a knot when I was just a snake. I sprinted to the creek. I braced myself, took a deep breath, and leaned over the water. The reflection showed a beautiful woman. Thin, arched eyebrows, a straight, delicate nose, and lips that looked like they were stained with cherry juice. A perfect mix of fierce and beautiful. Finally. Something that wasn’t terrifying to look at. 2 “There. Seize her.” A rough voice shattered the moment. Seize… who? Before I could even finish admiring my new face, two… “people”… grabbed me and dragged me away. They hauled me into a cave. The tunnel sloped down, down, down, until it opened into a massive, breathtaking cavern. The walls were dotted with glowing moss, illuminating an entire underground city. In the center stood a huge, intricate palace. They dragged me inside. “Your Majesty,” one of them bowed. “We have scouted the territories. She is the only female who has shifted.” Oh, crap. Are they going to eat me? The man on the throne eyed me. His gaze was so intense it felt like he was skinning me. “A King Cobra,” he purred. “Hmph. Worthy of me.” He sounded… pleased. Worthy? Oh, no. He wants to breed, too. The Snake King rose and descended the steps, and as he walked, he shifted. His snake form coiled around me, displaying his colors. He was… a cobra. An albino. He was pale, almost pink. It was ridiculous. He looked like a piece of bubblegum trying to act tough. I scoffed internally. If I had his power level, I’d eat this little spicy noodle for breakfast. I couldn’t win a fight, but I’ll be damned if I lose the intimidation game. My turn. I shifted. I went full King Cobra. Sleek black scales, rising high, my hood flared. I made myself as big as possible. Let’s see who really looks like royalty. (Bet they didn’t expect the scary black one to be the female and the little pink one to be the male.) It must be instinct, because even though the King was powerful, he definitely flinched when I flared my hood. That’s right. Scared? I scare myself. The moment I transformed, all the guards just… left. Hey! Come back! Who am I supposed to be impressing? The pink cobra slithered over. His smug face clearly said, ‘Smart girl.’ He settled his weight on my back, his tail moving toward mine, searching. I froze. I understood. These disgusting, single-minded animals! I whipped my head around and bit him. He was fast. He dodged. I shifted back. He shifted back. “You—you—” I was sputtering, pointing at him, beyond furious. He flicked his royal sleeves. “You dare refuse me? Why do you think I brought you here?” He was actually offended. “Did you even ask?!” “I am your King. I do not need your permission.” He narrowed his eyes. Ugh. So oily. So gross. “Why are you all so obsessed with breeding?” I demanded. “For lesser snakes, it is instinct. For us, it is survival. For a thousand years, our kind has been dwindling. A shifted female is a miracle. If our enemies attack, who will defend us?” He looked genuinely tragic. “That doesn’t mean you get to ignore consent! I’m not a broodmare!” “You will obey my command.” I was speechless. Arguing with a dictator. Pointless. I was trying to think of a new plan when several more men walked in. 3 “Brother, you can’t hog her.” “Indeed. A new female after a century… she belongs to the clan.” “She is my female.” In a flash, the King was a giant pink cobra, ready to fight. The others shifted, too. I was about to sneak out, but… wow. His brothers were a motley crew. A green one, a black-and-white banded one, a yellow-and-black one… their dad must have really gotten around. “Stop.” The voice was deep, magnetic. It stopped them, and it stopped me. “Father.” They all shifted back, bowing. Oh. So that’s Dad. I looked him over, trying to guess his species. He was gorgeous. He looked timeless. Rugged, wild, but his eyes were incredibly kind. He had long, pure white hair. He was massive, probably seven feet tall, with shoulders a yard wide and a narrow waist. He walked toward me, and the pressure in the room was intense. “Young lady, my sons are… eager. I apologize if they frightened you.” His aura was… wow. Warm, powerful, magnetic. It made you want to submit. It was… very alluring. I shook my head. Nope. Not laying eggs. Not for anyone. “Why are your sons all different species?” The words just fell out of my mouth. He just chuckled, not offended. “They are adopted. Foundlings.” “Oh. So… what species are you?” “You’re very direct, aren’t you?” he teased, avoiding the question. “What’s your name, then?” “All snakes are my children. You may call me Father, like the others.” Hard pass. I am not calling this guy “daddy.” I rolled my eyes. “Settle her in. Be respectful,” he ordered them, and then… vanished into thin air. “Yes, Father.” They all bowed. With him gone, they all stared at me again. “So, uh… big brothers… can I go now?” I tried. The green one, Qingfeng, laughed. “Not a chance, little sister. It’s mating season. You’re safest in the palace.” He pointed. A servant girl appeared. She was… a rabbit. A rabbit working in a snake pit. Gutsy. “Are there any other female snakes here?” I asked her as she led me away. “No, my lady.” “Why not?” “For a thousand years, the lands have been too hot. Almost all hatchlings are male. You are the first female to shift in a century.” This was bad. “What’s the deal with the ‘Father’?” “I cannot speak of the Master.” “C’mon. I won’t tell. What’s his name?” The rabbit girl looked terrified. “He’ll never know.” “No one… no one knows what he is,” she whispered. “We only know his name… Kaelen.” Kaelen. Nice. “Why isn’t Kaelen king?” “He was. He gave the title to Lord Kai to manage the clan’s affairs so he could retreat and meditate.” Kai. The pink noodle. 4 I trained. Hard. I was not going to be someone’s incubator. The palace had ancient texts. I progressed quickly. One day, I overheard the rabbit-girls. “Did you hear? The ten-thousand-year Sunroot… it’s finally mature. The Masters are all going to get it.” “Whoever eats that becomes a demigod.” A demigod. That’s how I get out of this. I found the rabbit, sweet-talked the location out of her, and snuck out. I didn’t see the flash of green scales watching me from the shadows, a slow smile spreading. As a King Cobra, they also call us “Mountain Wind.” I’m fast. I found the Sunroot. No guards. Weird. Whatever. I ate it. Wow. Power surged through me. But… I also felt hot. Really hot. “Was it good, sister?” Qingfeng. He was leaning against a tree, smirking. It was a trap. “It was… fine.” My voice was shaky. The air was getting hotter. I suddenly had the urge to… breed. What was happening? SMACK. I slapped myself. Hard. Qingfeng just watched, amused. “Don’t fight it, sister. For our kind, the Sunroot… it’s a powerful aphrodisiac.” The bastard. He set me up. I went for him. Ten moves later, I was pinned. A King Cobra, beaten by a… whatever he was. Humiliating. Fine. I’ll play his game. My eyes glazed over. I’d pretend to give in… and when he was distracted, I’d kill him. It was harder than I thought. The heat was overwhelming. I had to bite my own tail, hard, just to stay focused. The moment he let his guard down… I struck. I sank my fangs into his neck and emptied my venom sacs. He shrieked, lashing out, and his tail slammed me into a cliff. I felt ribs crack. I spat blood. But I watched. He twitched. He died. Jerk. The heat was still burning, overriding the pain. I shifted, unhinged my jaw, and swallowed him. I hadn’t eaten this well in a long time. The power from the Sunroot and Qingfeng hit me all at once. I was overheating. Crack! Thunder. A storm just for me. My tribulation. Crap. I was too injured to move. BOOM! Lightning hit me. Searing, agonizing pain. It hit me again. And again. I was just… fried. Toast. I failed. My soul was drifting, being pulled toward the light… Then a stronger force grabbed me, yanking me back. I forced my eyes open. Kaelen. His power… it felt like a liquid core… was inside me, knitting me back together. “Sleep,” his voice echoed. “It was self-defense. You are not at fault.”

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I got drunk at the company dinner and called my boss “husband.” My coworker snickered. “She’s really lost it, trying to get the boss’s attention.” My boss, Landon, glared at me. “If you can’t even control your mouth, why are you drinking?” In the sudden silence, the notoriously difficult client across the table let out a cold laugh. “She was calling me,” he said. He looked at Landon. “Why are you so worked up?” 1 I had followed Landon from college right into his company, working as his executive assistant. Everyone knew I was in love with him. Dropping off a file, I heard them talking inside his office. “That’s cold, man. Maya’s a trust fund kid, and she’s here being your assistant. Are you really that ruthless?” Landon scoffed. “She wanted to be here. What was I supposed to do?” Someone else laughed. “True. She’s always loved being attached to your hip.” “Hasn’t changed a bit in all these years.” “But seriously, Landon, you’re not going to give her a shot? That girl dreams about you.” “Yeah, remember when her family set her up on that blind date? You dragged us out for drinks that night. I thought you actually cared.” After that, Landon’s tone turned frigid. “She’s a nuisance. What’s there to care about?” Outside, my hand, which had been raised to knock, slowly lowered. I grabbed the handle and pushed the door open. The room went quiet. But only for a second. “Morning, Maya! Bringing Landon his coffee?” My daily, devoted coffee run. Landon didn’t even look up, just gestured with his chin. “Put it on the desk.” I shook my head. I placed the file and a folded letter on his desk. “It’s not coffee.” “It’s my resignation.” “Check your email, Mr. Hayes.” 2 They all stared. One of them got close, read the letter, and looked up, stunned. “Maya, are you serious?” Landon finally frowned, looking up at me. “What is this?” I pushed the letter toward him. “I quit.” He glanced at it, annoyed. “Is this because I made you work late last night?” “No. I just don’t want to work here anymore.” His face slowly hardened. As I turned to leave, he called my name. “Maya.” “If you walk out that door, you’re not coming back. There’s no place for you here again.” It was half-threat, half-warning. I didn’t turn around. “I’m counting on it.” The atmosphere in the room froze. As the door closed, I heard them scrambling. “Landon, she’s just throwing a tantrum…” “Yeah, you know how crazy she is about you.” “She’ll probably regret it by this afternoon and be begging to come back…” Landon, staring at the closed door, just sneered. “Whatever.” 3 I threw out everything from my desk. In the end, there was nothing left. I almost laughed. I thought about the anonymous video I’d received last night while I was stuck at the office. In a dark, loud bar, Landon was draped over some beautiful woman, listening to his friends. “Is Maya really still at the office, doing grunt work?” “You gotta hand it to Landon. He’s the only one who could tame that princess.” It was true. I’d been his workhorse. I, a wealthy heiress, had done his bidding for years. Overtime, schmoozing clients… all of it. And it all just led to this. “Seriously, Maya is like Landon’s most obedient dog.” He, in the video, just swirled his drink. He didn’t even deny it. He just… smirked. “What do you mean, most?” The group howled with laughter. It was like a bucket of ice water. I was cold, but I was finally, suddenly, awake. I pulled out my phone and found the contact for the blind date my family had been pushing for months. I’d been ignoring it, trying to get them to cancel. But now… The best way to get over someone, right? I typed. [Are you free to meet tomorrow?] He replied almost instantly. [Yes.] 4 My blind date was a gentleman. He insisted I pick the time, and he’d handle the place. My parents had been so vague. I’d tuned them out. I had no idea who I was meeting. I arrived early, pacing outside the restaurant. What if I didn’t recognize him? I was so busy worrying, I backed straight into someone. “Sorry, sorry…” I looked up. Perfectly tailored suit. And above that, a face so distractingly handsome it was almost unfair. He was looking at me with a warm, gentle expression. “Why don’t you go in?” he asked. I stared at his mouth. I swallowed. I knew this man. Julian He. The CEO. The one Landon’s company had been trying—and failing—to partner with for a year. He was known for being ruthless, cold, and impossible to get a meeting with. I scrambled to get out of his way. “Mr. He, I’m so sorry. I’m waiting for someone, I was totally spaced out. Please, go ahead…” He chuckled. A low, warm sound. “Ms. Shi?” I froze. He knew my name. His eyes crinkled at the corners. “Is it at all possible… that you’re waiting for me?” 5 I was, to put it mildly, stunned. My family had set me up with Julian He? The Julian He? I sat across from him in the private room, smiling politely on the outside, while frantically texting my mom under the table. [THE BLIND DATE IS JULIAN HE??] [ARE WE THAT RICH NOW??] [DID YOU SECRETLY BECOME A BILLIONAIRE??] My mom replied instantly. [?] [What are you talking about, honey? You’re daydreaming.] [We set you up with Julian He’s distant nephew.] [Didn’t your aunt explain?] I glanced at the man across from me. Was this the nephew? He caught my eye. I had to say something. “Um… excuse me. You… you are Mr. Julian He, right?” He nodded, a small, apologetic smile. “Yes. My apologies, I haven”t introduced myself. Maya Shi, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Julian, and I’m your blind date.” This was not adding up. “But… I was told… my date was…” Julian raised an eyebrow. He sipped his tea. “That kid? He’s not good enough for you. So I came instead.” He looked at me. “Is that a problem? Would you prefer him?” I stared. He said it so… casually. Like he knew me. “Of course not… I don’t even know him.” He smiled. “Then I hope you don’t mind the substitution.” “No…” I mean, how could I? He seemed genuinely pleased. He reached down and produced a thick, bound document, placing it in front of me. “Good. This is my resume. My personal stats, hobbies, salary, and a full list of my personal assets. You can look it over. “To be clear, Ms. Shi… I am here today with the intention of finding a wife. “My social circle is very small. I can guarantee absolute fidelity. If we marry, I will, of course, add you to my trust and ensure all assets are shared. I will never pressure you. As long as you remain my wife, you will have total freedom. “If these terms are acceptable… I hope you will consider me.” He finished this speech and just… looked at me. His eyes were so sincere it was disarming. Was this a fever dream? I pinched my leg under the table. Ow. Not a dream. I took a sip of water. “Mr. He… are you… proposing to me?” He nodded. Very seriously. “Yes. Maya. I would be very honored to be your husband.” 6 I was totally lost. Who gets proposed to on a blind date? By Julian He? “But… why me?” He seemed to expect this. “A woman with your talent, your looks, your character… why wouldn’t I want to marry you?” He leaned in. “Do I need a better reason than that?” “But… your qualifications are…” He stopped me. “Do you think I’m qualified, Maya?” I looked at the table. It was set with all of my favorite, obscure dishes. He’d done his homework. He wasn’t cold or ruthless at all. He was… perfect. “You’re… you’re great.” He beamed. “Then… will you ‘try me out’?” He meant marriage. I panicked. “I mean… we could start… by dating?” I squeaked. “Marriage seems… fast.” The light in his eyes dimmed, just for a second, before he masked it. “Of course,” he said, nodding. “Whatever you want.”

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I was in the bathroom of the bar when I heard my boyfriend Liam’s voice from the next stall over. Through a mix of panting and breathless little gasps, a flirtatious female voice purred, “Liam, how much longer are you going to play this broke boy-toy for that old woman?” Liam chuckled, his tone slick with arrogance. “A little longer. It’s not every day you find a mark this easy.” “She pays my bills, she’s great in bed… honestly, it’s a steal.” I leaned against the cool tile, nodding to myself in silent agreement. He wasn’t wrong. A guy like Liam, who handled the chores and was always available for sex, was exactly my kind of bargain. A perfect house husband for a career-driven woman like me. But my promotion and transfer to the new branch were just around the corner. It was about time to trade him in for a younger, more obedient model anyway. 1 I was only here because Liam had called, his voice a practiced whine, begging me to come pick him up. I figured I’d use the restroom before wading into his drunken friend group, and instead, I stumbled into this little drama. To be honest, when I heard the girl call him a “boy-toy,” I almost laughed out loud. He wasn’t some pampered plaything. He was just… convenient. He kept my apartment clean and warmed my bed. I paid for his time. It was a simple transaction. Did he really think I was hopelessly in love with him? Before I left, I heard the girl giggle again. “Oops. Liam, honey, I think I left a mark on your neck.” Her voice was sickly sweet. “What do you think that bargain-bin girlfriend of yours will do when she sees it? You think she’ll get jealous?” The sound of a kiss, wet and obnoxious. Liam’s voice was a low, smug murmur. “Don’t worry about her. She’s so obsessed with me, she wouldn’t dare say a word.” I knew the girl. Chloe Pierce. Liam’s childhood friend, the one he’d always treated like a precious little doll. Their kissing grew louder, more frantic, impossible to ignore. I made a soft tsk sound with my tongue, stepped out of the restroom, and pulled out my phone. I sent Liam a quick voice note. “I’m here. Where are you?” Less than a minute later, I saw the two of them emerge from the bathroom, clothes disheveled, and slide back into their booth. Liam sent me the table number. When I arrived, they were in the middle of one of those stupid bar games—passing a tiny slip of napkin back and forth, mouth-to-mouth. The paper was so small their lips were practically touching. “Liam.” My voice was swallowed by the bass-heavy music. He saw me in his peripheral vision. A smirk played on his lips. Then, he deliberately cupped the back of Chloe’s head and pressed his mouth to hers. “Whoa! Get it, Liam!” “Alright, man, break it up! You’re gonna make Chloe pass out!” His friends roared with laughter. A few of them who recognized me shot me gleeful looks, waiting for the explosion. I just watched them, and when he finally pulled away, I stepped forward. I hooked a finger under the silver chain around his neck and raised an eyebrow. “You done?” I asked. “Let’s go home.” Liam stared at me, momentarily stunned by my lack of reaction. Then, a lazy smile spread across his face as he wrapped an arm around my waist, melting into me. “Yeah, baby. Let’s go home.” As we left, I could feel their shocked stares burning into my back. I caught snippets of their whispers. “Jesus, does his girlfriend have a thing for being cheated on? She’s not even mad.” “Dude, you don’t get it. A guy like Liam? She’s probably so crazy about him she’s terrified to get angry.” “Still, to be that okay with it… she must be seriously whipped.” Liam must have heard them too, because he pulled me even closer, his arm tightening around me possessively. He dipped his head to kiss my forehead, a placating gesture as if he were soothing a child. I just smiled and quickened my pace. He was just a placeholder, a warm body. A few more nights, and then I’d be gone. As long as he could still perform, I didn’t really care what else he did. 2 I knew what Liam was from the day he approached me. I knew he was rich, and I knew he was playing poor. His reasons for choosing me were pathetically simple. I was an orphan with no family and few friends, which made for a clean break. I was attractive enough, but my demeanor was cool, almost distant—a combination that must have appealed to his desire for a challenge. So, Liam Ashford, trust-fund prince, had entered my life pretending to be a hopeless romantic, a warrior for love. I’ll give him this: he was beautiful. And to sell the act, this spoiled heir had reined in his temper and become impeccably attentive. A gorgeous, obedient man, delivered right to my doorstep. It would have been a waste not to sleep with him. But lately, he’d been getting sloppy, pushing my boundaries, testing my limits. That, combined with my impending move to a new city, meant his expiration date was rapidly approaching. The plan was simple: three more nights. Then I was out. The world is full of pretty boys. The moment we walked through the door of my apartment, his arms were around me from behind, his body pressing into mine. He smelled of cold night air, expensive whiskey, and that unique scent that was just him. He buried his face in the crook of my neck. “Ava,” he murmured. “You’re not mad?” I shook my head. “Why would I be mad?” He pulled a small velvet box from his pocket and dangled a pair of sapphire earrings in front of my face. He laughed softly. “You’re just saying that. I know you. You always say the opposite of what you mean.” He moved to fasten one to my earlobe. “Don’t be mad, Ava. Let me make it up to you, okay? Do you like them? I picked them out just for you. Cost me months of my salary.” If I hadn’t seen the sapphire necklace around Chloe’s neck earlier that night—the centerpiece of the collection this set belonged to—I might have actually believed his pathetic little lie. I’d seen the set on the jeweler’s website. The earrings were a complimentary gift with the purchase of the necklace, crafted from the leftover stones. I took the earrings from him, my smile a thin, sharp line. “I love them. Thank you.” Then I walked into the other room and immediately listed them on Poshmark. They wouldn’t fetch much, but keeping them around after he was gone would just be bad energy. Better to get a few bucks for them now. We spent the better part of the night in bed, a tangled, frantic mess, until he was the one begging for mercy, kissing me breathless. Long after he’d fallen into a deep sleep, I remembered an excel sheet I needed to finish for a meeting tomorrow. I quietly slipped out of bed, fired up my laptop, and got to work. Suddenly, a notification pinged. A new email. It was a selfie from Chloe. The sapphire necklace was prominent against her skin, sparkling under a bathroom light. Below the photo, a few lines of text dripped with venom. “Trashy little earrings for a trashy little woman. A perfect match, don’t you think? ;)” “Did you really think he’d buy you a gift if it wasn’t to get me my necklace?” “Do you know what we call you behind your back? Everyone laughs at how desperate you are.” “God, you’re just so pathetic. Paying for a man. How cheap can you get?” I read the message, my expression unchanged, and clicked delete. Honestly, I thought, kids these days. Their insults are so weak. My last boss had said far worse to me before I got him fired. When I slid back into bed, Liam stirred, pulling me into his arms in his sleep. He mumbled my name, his voice thick with dreams. “Ava… don’t go…” “Don’t be so cold to me, okay… Ava…” I patted his head, a soothing gesture one might give a dog, and whispered back into the darkness. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gone soon.” “And I’ll always remember you for your technique and your excellent customer service.” 3 The next day after work, Liam called again, asking me to pick him up. This time, the location was a private-room karaoke bar. I was about to refuse, but he laid it on thick, whining that if I didn’t come, it meant I didn’t care about him, and he’d have to break up with me. Well, there was still one day left. One more night. I couldn’t deny it; I was in the mood. And when a woman gets a craving, her judgment tends to get a little cloudy. With a sigh, I got in my car and drove to the address he’d sent. I pushed open the door to the private room and the scene hit me like a physical blow. Liam was lounging in the center of the plush sofa, with Chloe draped across his lap. She grinned and waved at me, a queen on her throne. “Ava! Thanks for coming.” Her voice was bright and cruel. “Liam’s just getting a little tired of this whole playing-in-love game with you. And since everyone’s here tonight, we figured it was the perfect time to just be honest with you.” Liam tilted his head back, looking at me down his nose, a triumphant smirk on his face. “She’s right, Ava. This has been fun, but I’m getting bored.” “You know a guy with my background could never actually marry someone like you. Besides, you’re getting older. My family would never approve of me bringing home an old woman.” He gestured around the room. “So let’s just end this now, keep things civil. It’s better for everyone.” I processed his words like I would an email from HR, nodding slightly. “Okay. I get it. Are you coming back to my place tonight?” If he was, I could still get one last time in. The room seemed to misinterpret my question, erupting in a wave of derisive laughter. They thought I was begging. “I told you she wouldn’t care! She’s pathetic!” “Now that she knows he’s rich, there’s no way she’s letting go.” “Exactly. And at her age, where’s she gonna find another guy with his kind of money?” Tears of mirth streamed down Liam’s face. He gestured dismissively at the collection of expensive liquor bottles on the table in front of him. “Tell you what,” he said, his voice dripping with condescension. “You finish all of this for Chloe, and I’ll think about it.” My eyes scanned the bottles. Not bad. High-end stuff. I remembered buying a client a bottle of that same whiskey once; it was a few thousand dollars. Liam must have mistaken my assessment for hesitation, because he decided to up the ante. He pulled out a thick stack of cash and started slapping hundred-dollar bills onto the table. “One drink, one thousand dollars,” he announced to the room. “Finish it all, and I’ll come home with you.” 4 The atmosphere froze for a second, then the other rich kids, smelling blood in the water, eagerly joined in, pulling out their own wallets. “I’ll add five hundred to that!” “Me too! Here’s another four hundred!” They loved nothing more than spending a little pocket change to watch someone humiliate themselves. The pile of cash grew and grew, nearly equaling what I made in a month of working myself to the bone. That settled it. I had to drink. I picked up a half-empty bottle of tequila, tilted my head back, and poured the contents down my throat. The alcohol burned, a searing pain that made my eyes water. The room fell silent, stunned. This woman is drinking like she has a death wish. Even Liam’s expression soured. He frowned, suddenly reaching out and snatching the bottle from my hand. “Ava! What the hell are you doing?!” I said nothing, simply grabbed another bottle and kept going. They really underestimated me. To get to my position, you don’t just have to be smart; you have to hold your liquor. When the last bottle was empty, I swayed on my feet, but my mind was still clear enough. I calmly scooped the cash off the table, stuffed it into my purse, and stumbled out of the room. The world was tilting. I felt a wave of dizziness, a sense of falling. The next thing I knew, I was being lifted into a familiar pair of arms. Liam’s face was a dark storm cloud above me, his jaw clenched. “Are you trying to kill yourself?!” he bit out, his voice a furious whisper. “You could have just asked me! You could have just admitted you were wrong! Why do you always have to be like this?!” I was drunk, but his words were so absurd I couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s rich. The great Liam Ashford, tricking me and breaking my heart, all so he could hear me beg for forgiveness?” His face flushed, a mixture of anger and shame. “You’re impossible,” he grumbled. “No wonder no one wants you at your age.” He carried me out and settled me into his car. I rested my head on his lap and drifted off. When I woke up, I was in my own bed, and he was gently pulling the covers over me. My eyes fluttered open and met his. He was just watching me. He looked away instantly, the tips of his ears turning a tell-tale red. “I thought you were dead,” he said, his tone unnecessarily harsh. “Too bad you survived. I’m leaving. You can die alone here for all I care.” He turned to go, but he felt a tug on the hem of his shirt. A flicker of something—relief? hope?—crossed his face. He turned back, ready to hear me apologize, but instead, I just asked a single question. “You wanna?” I admit, I was probably still drunk. Liam’s face went crimson, whether from anger or embarrassment, I couldn’t tell. He lunged forward, grabbing the back of my head and crashing his lips against mine. It was a punishing, furious kiss, so rough he split my lip. He pulled back, looking utterly wounded, and hissed, “Ava, what do you think I am? Some kind of gigolo?!” 5 My head was already pounding from the alcohol, and his shouting just made it worse. I winced, pressing a hand to my temple and sinking back against the pillows. “Whatever you want,” I mumbled. Liam’s anger seemed to falter. He had felt the heat radiating from my skin when he touched me. He pressed the back of his hand to my forehead. It was burning up. “You… you have a fever?” He was about to get up to find some medicine when his phone rang. It was Chloe. Her tearful, whining voice was perfectly audible through the speaker. “Liam, honey, why aren’t you back yet? Are you still with that old hag? Come back to me!” A flicker of his old arrogance returned to Liam’s face. He leaned over me, holding the phone so I could hear. “See? I told you. I’m never short on options.” He looked down at me, a smug glint in his eyes. “Tell you what. Apologize to me, a real apology, and I’ll stay and take care of you.” My head was spinning. I was in no condition to sleep with him tonight, and I was leaving tomorrow anyway. It wasn’t worth the effort. I simply rolled over, turning my back to him. Aside from his face and his body, he had nothing left that I wanted. Being so blatantly dismissed was a new experience for Liam. His face darkened. Without another word, he stood up and stormed towards the door. He paused with his hand on the knob, firing one last shot over his shoulder. “Ava Harrison, we’re done! We’re broken up! And don’t you dare come crawling back to me, begging me to take you back!” The door slammed shut, rattling the frame. My head felt heavier and heavier. I drifted into a feverish, disorienting sleep. When I finally woke up, it was nearly three in the morning. I knew, with a chilling certainty, that if I didn’t get some medicine, the fever would get dangerously high. But my body was limp, my limbs heavy as lead. I didn’t have the strength to get out of bed, let alone find a pharmacy. And I didn’t have any medicine in the apartment. After a moment of deliberation, I made a choice. I called Liam. I knew how it would look. Pathetic. Weak. But what was pride worth? Was it more important than my life? The call connected, and Liam’s voice, dripping with sarcasm, came through the line. “What, calling to say your last goodbyes? A little dramatic, don’t you think? We already broke up.” Chloe’s shrill voice chirped in the background. “Liam! You promised you wouldn’t talk to that bitch anymore! If she’s dying, let her die! She deserves it for how she treated you!” Her words were meant for me to hear. I ignored her and spoke to Liam, my voice raspy and weak. “Liam, I need you to bring me some medicine. I think… I think I’m really sick.” “The delivery apps aren’t taking orders this late. I wouldn’t be calling you if I had any other choice.” My breath hitched. “Please. I’m asking you. Just this once.” It took a surprising amount of effort just to get the words out. I was sweating, exhausted from the strain. There was a pause on his end. He was surprised to hear me say please. Then, he laughed, a cold, careless sound. “Ava, seriously? Is this your pathetic excuse to get me to come back? You could have just asked.” “It’s just a fever. How bad can it be?” “But fine. You want me to come back? I’m still pretty pissed off. So here’s the deal. You record a video of yourself, on your knees, begging me to take you back. Send it to me. Then I’ll come over.”

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My eight-year-old stepbrother was a brat. One day, he thought it would be funny to pour weed killer into a bottle of Coke. My stepdad came home from work thirsty and chugged half the bottle in one go. My mom wanted to taste the last bit at the bottom. I couldn’t help it—I slapped the bottle out of her hand and told her there was weed killer in it. Hearing this, my stepdad kicked me hard, twice. Then he grabbed me by the neck and poured the remaining Coke down my throat, every last drop. His eyes were bloodshot as he squeezed my throat. “You little bitch, you just wanted to see me die, didn’t you?” The family panicked and rushed to the hospital. I died alone, writhing in agony and starving. When I opened my eyes again, my stepbrother was pouring weed killer into a Coke bottle. I turned around and walked away, pretending I saw nothing. 1 There were two bottles of Coke on the cabinet. My aunt had bought them for me and my stepbrother, Tyler. But my stepdad and grandma had made it clear: if I dared to drink even a sip, they would break my legs when they got home. Tyler opened both bottles, took a big swig from each, and then carefully started pouring weed killer into them. “La la la~ adding some pesticide for the money-loser to drink.” Before he could look toward the door, I quickly slipped away. A moment later, Tyler came up to me, grinning, holding a bottle of Coke. “Hey sis, chopping pig feed is tiring work, right? Here, have a drink and take a break.” I wiped the sweat from my forehead with my sleeve. “I’m not thirsty. You drink it.” He suddenly spat on my face. “Pfft! Grandma was right, you really are ungrateful! I waited until they weren’t home to let you taste something good, and you don’t even appreciate it!” I ignored him and kept chopping the feed. If I didn’t feed the pigs before my parents got home, I was in for another beating. Bored with cursing at me alone, he left. I heard him slam the Coke back onto the cabinet in the other room. Later, he went into the yard to chase the chickens and the dog, completely forgetting about the pesticide. 2 When my stepdad came home from work, I was cooking. He stormed into the kitchen and slapped me across the face. “Can’t you even pour me a glass of water when you see me come home? I feed you and clothe you, and you’re less useful than a dog!” Waiting for the ringing in my ears to subside, I looked up and forced a smile. “Dad, go sit down. I’ll make you some sugar water right away.” “That’s more like it. Hurry up, I’m dying of thirst.” He walked out of the kitchen. I knew that as soon as he saw the Coke in the other room, he wouldn’t be able to wait to drink it. By the time I finished making the sugar water and rushed to the door of the other room, it was just like in my past life—half the bottle of Coke was already in my stepdad’s stomach. Grandma was chuckling beside him. “Good, isn’t it? Tell your sister to buy two more bottles next time.” “Mom, you have some too.” Stepdad handed the Coke to Grandma. Grandma gulped down two mouthfuls, her eyes darting to my mom, who was watching her eagerly. “Alright, alright. Since you gave birth to a son for our Wang family, I’ll save a sip for you.” Mom took the bottle from Grandma and satisfiedly drank the last bit at the bottom. That’s when she saw me at the door. She shook the bottle in her hand and poured the last two drops into her mouth. Then, she threw the bottle at my head with all her might. “What are you looking at? Go serve the rice! We’ve been working all day, don’t you have any sense?” Grandma glared at me too. “There’s another bottle for your brother. Don’t you dare get any ideas.” Then she yelled out the door, “Tyler! Come back quick, your good-for-nothing sister is trying to steal your drink!” Tyler came running back like a whirlwind. As he passed me, he slammed his shoulder into mine. I lost my grip on the sugar water, and it spilled all over the floor. Mom slapped the back of my head. “Can’t even hold a bowl? What good are you?” I kept my head down, afraid to speak. She scolded again, “Are you mute? You never say anything. Just looking at you makes me angry.” Grandma picked up Tyler and unscrewed the other Coke bottle. “Tyler, ignore them. Here, drink some Coke, Grandma will feed you.” Tyler knocked the entire bottle to the ground. “I’m not drinking that! I put pesticide in it! It’s for the money-loser to drink!” Stepdad froze. His body started trembling as he grabbed Tyler’s arm. His lips were already turning purple. “Son, what did you just say?” “I said, I poured pesticide into the Coke!” Stepdad suddenly clutched his stomach and squatted down, his face flushed red. “My stomach… my stomach… it hurts so bad.” Grandma saw the uncapped bottle of Paraquat in the corner and slapped her thigh in despair. “Oh no! He poured Paraquat!” The family had no time for me anymore. They scrambled to find someone to drag my stepdad to the hospital. Before leaving, Mom twisted my ear and warned, “Take good care of your brother. If not, you’ll get it when I come back.” 3 Grandma and Mom drank very little, so they were saved. Stepdad lay in the hospital for three days before he died. When they brought Stepdad’s body back, I was adding wood to the fire. Grandma rushed in, pressed me onto the woodpile, and started pinching me hard. “It’s all you, you jinx! Did our family owe you something in a past life? Tyler added the pesticide for you to drink, why didn’t you drink it? You killed my son! I want you to pay with your life!” She grabbed handfuls of ash from the ground and shoved them into my nose and mouth. I choked and coughed tears. Struggling, I saw Mom and Tyler standing at the door. They had no intention of stopping her. I even saw the word “revenge” in their eyes. So even with a second chance at life, it was the same ending, just a different way to die. Whatever. I was tired. I closed my eyes and stopped struggling. Just when I felt like I couldn’t breathe anymore, someone picked me up. She held me up with one hand and patted my back repeatedly with the other. “Spring, listen to me, spit out the ash! You can’t give up, you hear me? Boohoo… what do I do? Help! Someone help!” It was my Aunt Sarah. The only person in this world who treated me like a human being, even though we weren’t related by blood. A sudden, powerful will to live surged through me. I bent over, coughing violently, blowing air out of my nose. When I finally caught my breath, I held onto Aunt Sarah’s hand tightly. I could feel her whole body trembling. Grandma stood by, cursing, spittle flying everywhere. “Sarah, do you even know what’s going on? This little bitch killed your own brother! I raised you just so you could help an outsider piss me off?” She sat on the ground, throwing a tantrum, tears streaming down her face instantly. “My poor son! You just left, and they’re already bullying me! What am I going to do?” Seeing I was okay, Aunt Sarah went to comfort Grandma. “Mom, I know you’re sad about brother’s death. But you can’t blame it on a child.” Grandma glared at me viciously. “If I don’t blame her, who do I blame? She’s a jinx! Saving her today is useless. Don’t give her food or water. Let’s see how long she lasts.” “Mom!” Aunt Sarah suppressed her anger and coaxed Grandma. “Brother is gone, but you still have me, and you have Tyler. We’ll take care of you.” At the mention of Tyler, Grandma smiled a little. “Tyler, you must be tired. Come here, Grandma will put you down for a nap.” Before leaving, Grandma gritted her teeth and said, “Once the funeral is over, you and your mother get out of here!” She was talking about me and Mom. Mom glared at her back but didn’t say a word. 4 That night, Grandma wouldn’t let me sleep. I had to keep watch by Stepdad’s coffin. Dozing off, I heard rustling outside. I crept to the door and looked out. It was my mom. She was leaning against the yard fence, talking to a man. In the quiet night, their conversation drifted clearly to my ears. “This is some private money I saved up recently. You’ll be busy these next couple of days, buy yourself something good to eat.” It was my Uncle Dave’s voice. Aunt Sarah was so good, yet he was… with my mom behind her back. Mom pocketed the money. “I called you here for something else. Mom says she’s kicking me out after the funeral.” “How can she do that? Then I won’t be able to see you?” Mom leaned her head into Uncle Dave’s chest. “I can only rely on you now. Help me think of a way. Ideally, get rid of…” I didn’t hear the rest because I had quietly slipped into Grandma’s room. I shook her. “Grandma, I think someone’s stealing stuff outside!” She woke up instantly, jumped out of bed, and went outside. I lay by the door watching. This was going to be a good show. Dog eat dog. “Who’s there?” Hearing Grandma’s voice, Uncle Dave ran away immediately, leaving my mom standing there dumbfounded. Grandma picked up a broom from the yard and started hitting my mom. “You little tramp! My son’s bones aren’t even cold yet, and you’re meeting other men? Do you think I’m dead?” Mom was beaten so hard she ran around in circles. “Don’t you dare slander me! There was no man!” “I saw him with my own eyes! Were you cuckolding my son long ago? I’m going to break your legs today!” Grandma swung her arm with all her might, and Mom howled in pain. “Help! Murder!” Tyler, woken by the noise, ran out rubbing his eyes. Then he picked up a hoe leaning against the wall. He walked up behind Grandma menacingly. Grandma turned back and said, “Tyler, your mom found a wild man. Help me catch her. We’ll lock her in the cow shed to reflect.” Then she turned back to continue beating Mom. The next second, the hoe in Tyler’s hand smashed into the back of her head. “Old hag! How dare you hit my mom! Who gave you the guts?” Grandma made a gurgling sound, then fell straight to the ground. Tyler hit her back with the hoe again. “I’m asking you a question! Stop playing dead!” Mom ran over and hugged Tyler, her voice trembling. “Our Tyler… really is Mom’s little man!” Tyler smiled, triumphantly saying, “Let’s see who dares to bully Mom now!” I quickly climbed into Grandma’s bed and pretended to be asleep.

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Right before dinner, my husband suddenly asked, “What if we stop loving each other? Whether it’s because of someone else, or… we just grow apart. What happens to us?” I hesitated for a long time. “Maybe divorce is the best answer. You could find someone else.” The truth was, I already knew. I knew about his unusual feelings for that girl. And I’d already heard him promise her: “Don’t cry. We’ll have a future.” 1 He put his fork down, his face suddenly hardening. After a long moment, he forced a laugh. “Victoria, I was just kidding.” It wasn’t a joke. I knew. I had known his love, so I knew what it looked like when it was gone. And I knew that what he felt for that other girl… was real. Earlier today, at the hospital. The doctor, who had been impatient, softened the moment he read my chart. He lowered his voice. “Don’t be scared. This isn’t late-stage. With aggressive treatment, this is manageable.” I was walking out with the diagnosis when I saw them. Julian’s arm was bandaged. The girl was looking at him, her eyes red with pain. “Why did I have to meet you so late? I can’t even take care of you properly.” Julian looked flustered. Blood was seeping through his new bandage. He said, “Don’t cry. I’ll give you a future.” The words hung in the air. He froze, as if he regretted saying them. But she believed him. Her nose was red as she looked up at him. “Really?” Julian just frowned. He didn’t speak. I didn’t stay to watch the rest. I know Julian. I know his boundaries. As long as he was married to me, his body wouldn’t cross the line. But his heart… I couldn’t control his heart. 2 I wanted to know, too. What kind of girl was she? What made her better than me? I found her profile through his phone. I had to see for myself. I had to see the woman who had so easily destroyed eight years of my life. We survived long-distance. We survived the pandemic. We survived being broke. But we were being defeated by a “better girl.” I found her on the university campus. Of course. Young. Vibrant. An old, homeless woman was struggling to collect cans, her back bent. Her plastic bag ripped, and empty bottles scattered across the pavement. The girl, in a cream-colored coat, ran over and helped her pick up every single one. She helped the woman carry the heavy bag all the way to the campus recycling center. I followed, like a stalker. Suddenly, footsteps rushed up behind me. A figure blocked my view. I looked up. Liam. His arms were spread, shielding the girl from me, his lips trembling. “Victoria, it’s not her fault…” Not her fault. Then whose fault was it? Mine? The girl finally noticed me. She looked over, startled. Our eyes met. She quickly looked away. 3 In a coffee shop. Julian sat across from me, his eyes full of pain. He said, “Victoria, I…” He couldn’t continue. I wanted to know, too. Now that I’d found out, what would he choose? Would he end it with the “better girl”? Or would he end it with me? He opened his mouth, and finally, the words came out, strained. “Victoria, I… I don’t think I love you anymore.” I didn’t say anything. But my body betrayed me. My eyes burned. He panicked. “Don’t cry…” He just stared at me for a long time before pushing the napkin holder across the table. He let out a breath, like a man relieved of a heavy weight. “Tess, we got together when we were eighteen. It’s been eight years… “I know I’m an asshole. I’m scum. “But Victoria… after this long, my love for you… it’s turned into something else. It’s family. “Neither of us can fight that.” I asked him, “And her?” Julian was silent. “Maybe that will change, too. “But… I don’t want to lie to you right now…” He looked up, his voice bitter. “I haven’t done anything… physical. If you want, we can stay married. “But… all I have left to give you is responsibility. And the rest of my time.” How could I describe that feeling? Sadness? Despair? I was a prisoner, drowning. I knew I was going to die, but I had to keep my eyes open and just… wait. We sat in silence. Finally, I spoke. “Let’s schedule a time. We’ll file for divorce.” 4 It was evening when I left the cafe. The sunset was a violent, blinding red. Across the street, someone was hovering. Julian saw her instantly and sprinted over. The girl flinched, her face pale. Julian’s voice was sharp. “Nina, what are you doing here? “I told you to go back to your dorm. Have you been waiting this whole time?” Nina glanced at me, her eyes full of apology. She looked down at her shoes. “I… I was worried about you…” His expression melted. “Don’t overthink it.” Suddenly… An indescribable bitterness flooded my chest. I really thought there was nothing left that could possibly hurt me. 5 “Don’t overthink it.” That’s what he said to me at the bus station, right after graduation. I was sobbing, terrified of the separation. Everyone said graduation equals a breakup. Who could guarantee a long-distance relationship? He turned and hugged me tight. “Victoria, don’t overthink it. As soon as I’m settled, I’ll come see you.” The same station. He took a bus north. I took one south. I was in a second-tier city. My first birthday alone, he promised he’d be there. He wasn’t. At 12:37 AM. A knock on my apartment door. He burst in, breathless, and grabbed me. “I tried so hard to make it,” he panted, “but I’m still late.” I found out later he’d spent his last dollar on the bus ticket. He couldn’t afford a cab from the station. He walked. My apartment was eight miles from the bus station. I thought, this is my life. It has disappointments, but the happy endings will come, even if they’re late. I was wrong.

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Returning from a trip, I found a young, overly familiar nanny in my home. She adored my husband Leo but shot venomous looks at me. I wanted to fire her, but Leo refused, calling me unreasonable. After learning this, the nanny, Jade, grew to hate me. I specifically warned her that my mother—coming for dinner—had a fatal peanut allergy. She still loaded the food with peanut sauce, sending the guest to the ICU. Jade then played victim for Leo, claiming I set her up. Leo turned on me, disgusted. “How could you be so malicious?” I simply smiled, packed his bags, and threw them both out. Jade broke down; Leo sneered, wishing my mother ill. I laughed. “My mother is abroad. The woman in the ICU… is yours.” 1 “Mom, I knew you were coming today, so I had Jade make all your favorites,” I said with a warm smile, placing a piece of chicken on my mother-in-law’s plate. But after only a few bites, her face flushed a frightening shade of red. Her hands flew to her throat, and before she could choke out a single word, she tumbled from her chair onto the floor. Panic seized me for a second, but then adrenaline kicked in. It was an allergic reaction. A severe one. There was no time to rage at Jade, who had cooked the dinner. I immediately laid my mother-in-law flat on the ground and tried to clear her airway. I glanced up and saw Jade just standing there, arms crossed, watching the chaos with a detached amusement. A surge of fury shot through me. “What are you doing just standing there?” I screamed at her. “Can’t you see she’s having a reaction? Go to my room, get the EpiPen from the top drawer of my nightstand, and call 911! Now!” Jade didn’t move an inch. Her pretty face was a canvas of contempt. “I may be your nanny, but I have my dignity. We’re equals. The magic word is ‘please.’ Don’t you know basic manners?” I stared at her, dumbfounded. My brow furrowed. “I told you this afternoon—no peanuts in any of the dishes tonight. Did you forget?” Jade shook her head. “Oh, I didn’t forget. But you were being so dramatic this afternoon. I just couldn’t believe someone could die from a few peanuts.” “I have allergies myself—I can’t eat shellfish. The worst that happens is I get an itchy rash. You’re the kind of person I can’t stand, always making a big deal out of nothing.” She added with a sickeningly sweet smile, “Besides, think of it as desensitization therapy. A few more meals like this and she’ll be cured. You’re welcome.” I was so choked with rage I couldn’t even speak. Jade seemed to relish my stunned silence. She smirked. “You know why your mom’s having a reaction? It’s like they say, you can’t buy class. Did you really think marrying into a wealthy family meant you and your whole family would suddenly ascend to heaven? Honey, it’s called not knowing your place, and this is the universe punishing you for it.” I froze. Because the woman gasping for air on my floor wasn’t my mother. She was my mother-in-law. 2 It’s just that my husband, Leo, had always been so effortlessly charming with my parents, calling them ‘Mom’ and ‘Dad’ from day one. I felt awkward still calling his mother ‘Mrs. Reid,’ so I’d started calling her ‘Mom’ too. Could it be? Was it because I’d said my mom was coming this afternoon that Jade had done this on purpose? I didn’t have time to explain. My mother-in-law was on the verge of death. By the time I clarified the family tree, we wouldn’t need an ambulance; we’d need a hearse. I scrambled to my feet and grabbed my phone to call 911. But before I could even dial, Jade lunged, snatching the phone from my hand and slamming it onto the marble floor. The screen spiderwebbed into a thousand pieces. “Are you insane? If we don’t call an ambulance, she could die! That’s murder, do you understand?” I yelled, my voice cracking. I turned to run upstairs for the EpiPen and my spare phone. Jade just laughed, a cold, sharp sound. “Quit the act. Calling an ambulance? Please. I know you were just going to call Leo and tattle on me.” She scoffed. “Life-threatening? Could you be any more dramatic?” As she spoke, she sauntered over to my mother-in-law and gave her a light kick with the toe of her shoe. “Alright, old lady, show’s over. With acting skills like that, you should be at the Oscars, not causing a scene in the Reid household.” When my mother-in-law didn’t respond, Jade didn’t seem bothered. She turned her attention back to me. “Let me be perfectly clear. I’ve already turned off the security cameras. I’m going to teach you a lesson today. Just because you married Leo doesn’t make you the lady of this house.” Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “This is your punishment for trying to get me fired. I suggest you learn from this. From now on, you’d better learn to stay in your lane, or I can’t guarantee I won’t ‘accidentally’ add a little something extra to your food one day.” I stared at her, a chill running down my spine. “How did you know I wanted to fire you?” 3 Jade was hired while I was out of the country. In her early twenties, young and beautiful. She was efficient, had a folder full of certifications, spoke fluent French, could drive, and was an amazing cook. On paper, she was the perfect nanny. But the hostility she directed at me was palpable from the moment I met her. I’d considered replacing her, but Leo insisted that a nanny of her caliber was hard to find. He told me to just give it time, that we’d warm up to each other. I’m not a difficult person, so I let it go. But what she just said sent my mind racing. Jade seemed to read my thoughts. She let out a soft, mocking laugh. “Leo, of course. He told me not to mind you, that you were just a spoiled princess throwing a tantrum. He said he’d stand by me, that he would never fire me.” Her eyes raked over me dismissively. “It’s actually hilarious. A spoiled princess? You don’t have the grace of a princess, just the attitude. Dragging your mother here all the time to leech off the family fortune. You probably don’t even know, but Leo can’t stand your parents. He’s told me more than once that he wishes they’d just die already.” Hearing that, a piece of my heart turned to ice. “So,” I said, my voice dangerously low, “you and Leo are close, then?” Jade caught the sarcasm in my tone and nodded defiantly. “That’s right. While you were away for the last six months, Leo and I got very close. Did you really expect a man as incredible as Leo to stay faithful to you?” She took a step closer, her voice rising. “And who are you to talk to me like that? You’re just a pretty face who married into money. If you can do it, why can’t I?” I almost laughed. It was clear now that Leo had been enjoying himself while I was away. But it was also clear he hadn’t told Jade one crucial detail: who, exactly, was the one who had “married up” in this relationship. 4 I wasn’t heartbroken. A girl from my kind of family learns early on that people change, that feelings are fleeting, but money is constant. Besides, when Leo and I got married, he signed a rock-solid prenup. If we divorced, he would walk away with nothing. With that thought calming me, I looked at Jade evenly. “Fine. If you and Leo have something going on, I don’t want him anymore. He’s all yours. Now call the ambulance. This is a matter of life and death. I promise you, I will divorce him and leave him to you.” Jade’s eyes lit up, a flash of pure triumph. She looked like she was about to jump for joy, but then her expression soured. “Nice try. You’re just saying that so you can take half of Leo’s money and live happily ever after.” “Then what do you want?” I snapped, my patience wearing thin. I glanced at my mother-in-law; her face was turning a horrifying shade of purple. Jade thought for a moment, then pulled her phone out of her pocket. “I want you on your knees. I want you to look into this camera, crying your eyes out, and confess that you cheated on Leo while you were abroad. That you’re leaving in shame and won’t take a single penny. You say that, and I’ll call the ambulance for your precious mother.” I rolled my eyes and gave up. I walked over to the sofa and sat down. “You figure it out, then. If you don’t want to call for help, we can just wait. But when she dies, your life is over, too. Leo isn’t going to marry a murderer.” Jade was stunned by my sudden composure. She sputtered, “That’s your mother! Are you just going to sit there and watch her die?” I shook my head slowly. “What if I told you… that’s not my mother? That’s my mother-in-law. Leo’s mom.” 5 The color drained from Jade’s face. She stared at the woman on the floor, speechless. “You’re lying! I did my research. Leo’s parents are on vacation in Europe right now.” Her voice trembled. “And Leo told me his parents can’t stand you because you refuse to have children.” “Besides, look at her! She looks like she’s from some backwater town. She has to be your mother. You think I’m going to fall for a stupid trick like that?” Jade shook her head, clinging to her version of reality. I shrugged. “Believe what you want. But take a good look. She’s unconscious. A few more minutes and she’ll be gone for good.” “You bitch! Your own mother is dying and you’re acting so cold! Is money really all that matters to you?” Then a new thought seemed to strike her. “No… I can’t let her die. If she dies, you’ll pin it on me. Leo will feel sorry for you and he won’t divorce you. I can’t let that happen!” Seeing I wasn’t going to budge, Jade hesitated for a few seconds before fumbling for the EpiPen I’d told her about earlier. But my mother-in-law was already in shock and couldn’t swallow the medication from an oral syringe she mistakenly grabbed instead of the injector. “Come on, take it! Old woman, you have to swallow! If you don’t, you’ll die! Don’t you dare try to frame me with your death! Wake up!” She started slapping my mother-in-law’s face, hard. It happened so fast I couldn’t even stop her. Finally, raw fear broke through Jade’s arrogance. Her hands shaking, she fumbled with her phone and dialed 911. After a chaotic whirlwind, we finally got my mother-in-law to the hospital. Just as she was wheeled into surgery, Leo rushed in. Before I could say a word, Jade burst into tears and threw herself into his arms. “Leo, I was so scared!” 6 Leo wrapped his arms around her, stroking her hair. “It’s okay, I’m here now. What happened? Why are we at the hospital? Are you hurt?” I cleared my throat loudly, rolling my eyes. Leo finally noticed me, and he pushed Jade away as if he’d been stung. “Elara… what are you doing here? What’s going on?” I didn’t say anything. Jade shot me a look of pure venom before turning back to Leo, her voice choked with sobs. “This afternoon, Ms. Reid told me her mother was coming for dinner. But a few minutes after she started eating, she just… collapsed. It was like she was poisoned.” “I was terrified! I wanted to call an ambulance, but Ms. Reid wouldn’t let me! She said… she said she was the one who poisoned her, and that she was going to frame me for murder!” The story was riddled with holes, but after a moment’s thought, Leo actually bought it. He looked from the glowing “SURGERY IN PROGRESS” sign to me, his face a mask of accusation. “Elara, if you have a problem, we can talk about it. Why do you have to be so cruel?” “You don’t like Jade, fine! But does that mean you have to destroy her life? I don’t even recognize you anymore. How did you become this person?” I gave him a look of utter disbelief. “Are you an idiot? Can’t you hear how she’s twisting everything? Fine. I’m calling the police. Let them figure out who the cruel one really is.” At the mention of the police, Jade’s face went pale. She swayed on her feet and collapsed dramatically into Leo’s arms. He scooped her up. “If you call the police, I’ll testify for Jade. It would be better for everyone if you just let this go.” “I’m sure your mother is a strong woman. She’ll be fine.” With that, he turned and carried Jade away. I glanced at the operating room one last time and followed them out. If her own son didn’t care, there was no reason for the daughter-in-law she despised to stick around. 7 I went home early the next morning to find Leo and Jade on the sofa. They must have thought I’d be at the hospital all night, because they were locked in a passionate kiss. The sight of it made my skin crawl. “Am I interrupting something?” I asked loudly. “Or are your lips just stuck together?” Leo shot up from the sofa. “Elara! You’re back? Why aren’t you at the hospital with your mother?” He didn’t even try to explain. Instead, he asked, “Is she out of danger already?” Jade added in a quavering voice, “I knew it. Ms. Reid was just trying to scare me. She’d never actually poison her own mother.” I shot Leo a withering glare. “Jade fainted, so I brought her back here. I was just about to head back to the hospital to be with you when you showed up. You misunderstood what you saw. We were just…” I held up a hand. “Stop. Save the excuses. I’m not interested. I already know everything. Jade gave me a very… detailed explanation.” Jade leaned against Leo, a picture of shy affection. “Leo, Ms. Reid said she’s willing to step aside so we can be together.” Before Leo could respond, I tossed a file onto the coffee table. “Sign it. Then you and Jade can live happily ever after.” I suppose I had been too good to Leo over the years. He’d started to believe he was indispensable, the true master of the house. He scoffed, “Alright, stop the drama. I was just angry last night. I can’t believe you’d do something so crazy just to get Jade fired.” “But I’ve had time to think. I’m sorry, okay?” he said, adding a clumsy lie. “And just now, I was just giving Jade CPR. Don’t get the wrong idea. I only see her as a little sister. You’ll always be my wife.” 8 The smile on Jade’s face cracked. She couldn’t understand why Leo was refusing to divorce me. She gritted her teeth and played along. “Yes, Ms. Reid, you misunderstood. There’s nothing going on between me and Leo. I was just foolishly in love with him, but… his heart belongs to you. I’ll leave. I wish you both… a long and happy life together.” Leo looked heartbroken. I was done with their little play. I waved a hand, and my lawyer, who had been waiting by the door, stepped inside. He adjusted his glasses, placed the divorce papers in front of Leo, and explained patiently, “Mr. Reid, Ms. Reid has made her decision. Refusing to sign is pointless. Frankly, divorcing now is your best option.” “If this gets any messier, your reputation will be ruined.” The lawyer paused for effect. “Furthermore… Jade was aware that… the old madam had a severe allergy and still knowingly served her food containing that allergen. That constitutes attempted murder. However, Ms. Reid has stated that if you sign these papers, she will not press charges.” I gave my lawyer a mental thumbs-up. He’d phrased it perfectly—vague enough to threaten them both without revealing that the victim was Leo’s own mother. If Leo knew that, he’d never agree to the divorce. Leo glared at me, his jaw tight. After a long, tense moment, he snatched the pen and signed his name. “You’ll regret this, Elara. I swear you will.” We went straight to the courthouse and had the divorce finalized on the spot. Jade was practically vibrating with joy. She was trying to maintain her delicate persona, but she was failing. “Ms. Reid, now that the papers are signed, please remove your belongings from the Reid residence. Leo and I would prefer not to see any of your things when we get home.” I looked over the divorce certificate, making sure everything was in order. Then I smiled. “Me, leave? Why would I leave my own house?” 9 Jade froze. “Leo, did you even read the divorce papers before you signed? Did she trick you?” The reality of the situation finally seemed to hit Leo. He looked dazed, as if he couldn’t believe he was actually divorced. I took a deep breath. “Jade, if you’d bothered to learn anything about your employer, you’d know that this isn’t the ‘Reid residence.’ It’s the home of the Hale family. And the man you thought was the master of the house? He was just the man who married the heiress.” Jade’s eyes went wide. She stood there, mouth agape, completely stunned. Leo quickly put an arm around her. “It’s okay, Jade. I may not be as rich as her, but I have a good income, and my feelings for you are real.” Jade’s expression softened. She probably remembered that Leo was, at least, handsome and talented. “That’s right,” she said quickly. “I love you for you, not for your money.” Leo puffed out his chest, looking smug. He sneered at me. “People like you, with nothing but money in your head, could never understand what true love is.” I was about to respond when my lawyer leaned in and whispered, “Mrs. Hale called. She said she couldn’t reach you, so she called my office. She asked if you could call her back when you’re free.” Leo’s smug expression vanished. “What? That’s impossible. I just called the hospital. They told me your mother is in the ICU. They said even if she survives, she’ll be in a vegetative state. How could she be calling you?” A sly look crossed Jade’s face. “Leo, it’s a trick! She’s the one who was cheating! She and her mother cooked up this whole scheme so she could divorce you. I told you I was framed!” Understanding dawned on Leo’s face, followed by pure fury as he thought of the billions he’d just lost. “You bitch!” he roared. “You and your mother are both bitches! Jade was too kind to you! She should’ve just poisoned you both and been done with it!” I just shook my head. “Don’t worry. My mother is perfectly fine, enjoying her trip abroad. The person currently lying in the ICU… is my former mother-in-law. Your mother.”

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