Category: English

Framed for a scholarship student’s rape and murder in my past life, I was sentenced to life. My own girlfriend provided the “evidence,” and my parents testified against me. For twenty years in prison, I clung to the hope they had a reason. Upon release, they welcomed me with a lavish dinner—only for me to wake up as a ghost, reading headlines that I’d committed suicide out of guilt. Then I reopened my eyes. I was back on the night it all began. If they were determined to paint me as a monster, fine. I’d become a spectacle—a man hospitalized in front of a live audience, impossible to frame. I hit “Go Live” and started devouring mangoes from a street stall like a madman. “Is this guy crazy?” “The owner’s frozen!” “What a channel launch!” As viewers flooded in, I counted down. Right on time, I collapsed, foaming at the mouth. Darkness. 1 The moment I passed out, the live chat went into a frenzy. “Is he for real? Is this guy nuts?” “Swollen lips, trouble breathing, hives breaking out all over… that’s anaphylactic shock! Someone call 911!” The fruit stand owner’s expression shifted from anger to horrified shock. He stumbled back, hands raised in surrender. Sticky, sweet mango juice coated my hands, the taste in my mouth a cloying mix of sugar and bitterness. Only one thought burned in my mind. Even if I die, I’m dragging every last one of them to hell with me. The wail of the ambulance siren was the sweetest sound I’d ever heard. As the paramedics rushed toward me, the fruit stand owner grabbed my hand, his voice trembling. “Son, whatever it is, it’s not worth this. If you die on me, I’ll never sell another piece of fruit in my life!” His words struck me like a physical blow. A complete stranger showed me more compassion in a single moment than my family had in a lifetime. The irony was suffocating. I gripped his hand, my voice a desperate rasp. “Sir, can you do me a favor? Please, keep the livestream running. All the way to the hospital.” In the chaos, unnoticed, I palmed a small fruit knife from his stand and slipped it into my pocket. The chat was a mix of advice and mockery. “Dude, don’t get stuck with his medical bills! It’s not worth it!” “That poor owner. Worst luck in the world, running into this psycho.” “Wait… isn’t that my coworker? He’s usually such a quiet guy. What the hell happened?” Seeing that last comment sent another pang through my chest. The cruel joke was, in my last life, the only people who ever believed in my innocence were my colleagues. I’d been arrested right after work that day, accused of murder. I thought it was a misunderstanding, that I’d be released in no time. Then my father came to visit me. His first words were a command. “Julian, stop being stubborn. Confess. As your father, I can’t cover for you any longer.” I had just stared at him, completely bewildered. The detective on the case, a man named Miles, was a bulldog for justice. He’d grabbed me by the collar, his eyes shot with rage. “You bastard. Do you have any idea she was just eighteen? She’d just gotten into college.” The evidence against me was impossibly perfect. My own girlfriend, Chloe, had submitted the video of me threatening and kidnapping the victim. The fruit stand owner hesitated. I clutched the phone tighter, screaming at the paramedics who were trying to move me. “If you don’t let me keep this stream live, I’m not going to the hospital!” Two of them moved to restrain me. Without a second thought, I pulled the fruit knife from my pocket, my eyes wild with desperation. “You come near me, and I’ll kill myself right here!” The chat exploded. “WHOA! What the hell happened to this guy? He looks genuinely broken. That look in his eyes… that’s not an act.” “He’s completely lost it. I know this guy, he was about to get married. House, car, the whole deal. This makes no sense.” “Fruit stand owner’s internal monologue: Great, the knife is mine too!” A police car pulled up, and the man who stepped out made my entire body go rigid. Detective Miles strode forward, his brow furrowed, but he kept his voice calm and steady. “Son, whatever’s wrong, the police are here to help. Don’t do anything you’ll regret.” His words sent a tremor through me. My throat closed up. The live chat fell silent. In my last life, this was the man who had sent me to prison. The fruit stand owner rushed forward. “Kid, I promise, I’ll keep the stream going all the way to the hospital! Just please, don’t hurt yourself!” Every eye was on me. I kept the phone in one hand, the knife in the other. “I don’t trust anyone. Stream it. All of it.” The viewer count surged past twenty million. The owner agreed, taking the phone. I was finally helped onto the stretcher and into the ambulance. The chat was already buzzing with theories of a deeper conspiracy. On the way to the hospital, the police identified me and contacted my parents. My phone rang. It was my dad. The owner held the phone out to me, and I nodded. “Julian, you are such a disappointment. You might as well just die in that hospital.” “Why do you always have to cause a scene? Do you have any respect for me as your father?” “I’m telling you right now, you get online and you apologize to everyone, or you’re not welcome in this house tonight!” He hung up before I could even respond. The chat was split. Some thought my father was in the right; others found him unbearably cold. Detective Miles, riding with us, muttered under his breath, “What a heartless bastard.” The comment reached my ears. I looked over at him, the truth burning on my tongue. But who would believe me? The man in that video looked exactly like me. The police had confirmed it wasn’t a fake. My own parents had given statements against me. What kind of parents would frame their own son? Detective Miles caught my gaze, a flicker of contemplation in his eyes. I thought about the girl, the student who had just started college. I dredged up the memories of that night and crooked a finger at him. I whispered a few words in his ear. Detective Miles shot up so fast he hit his head on the ambulance ceiling. His expression was stone. “Are you serious?” I nodded. This time, let’s see how they frame me now. I lay in a hospital bed, the steady drip of the IV a metronome counting down my fate. The chat was filled with comments of “boring,” “clout-chasing loser,” and “viral attempt failed.” But I had already won. I had twenty million witnesses. Then I saw the time on my phone and a cold dread washed over me. 8:31 PM. It was the time from my nightmare. The timestamp on the video. The moment “I” dragged that girl through the door, tearing at her clothes, spewing vile words. If I’d had more time after reincarnating, I wouldn’t have resorted to something so desperate. My parents never came. Chloe never came. The fruit stand owner, who had stayed with me, looked increasingly grim. “Kid, maybe they have their reasons,” he said, trying to comfort me. “Maybe they’re just caught up. Don’t overthink it. What do you want to eat?” Yeah. Reasons. Right up until the moment they fed me poison, I stupidly believed they’d been threatened, that it was all part of some larger conspiracy. But after they killed me, they had my body cremated immediately and told the media I had died of shame. “You can turn off the stream now,” I told him. As the owner stared at me, confused, his phone rang. He answered, and a voice barked from the other end. “This is Detective Miles. Is Julian Shaw awake?” “Put him on.” He must have been watching the stream. I didn’t take the phone. I just looked into the camera and smiled faintly. “Detective, you want to know how I knew? You’ll have your answer in a few days.” Amidst a flood of question marks from the chat, I ended the broadcast. But the call was still connected. Detective Miles’s voice was tight with anger. “If you knew what was going to happen, why didn’t you stop it? She was only eighteen—” “—her life was just beginning,” I finished his sentence, my voice utterly calm. It was the same line he’d used on me, over and over, during my interrogation in my past life. My life had just been beginning too. I’d just paid off my mortgage, my car loan. I was about to propose to Chloe. Instead, I was betrayed by everyone I loved and thrown in a cage for twenty years. And even then, I never blamed them. When I got out, all I wanted was to live a quiet life with them. They never wanted me to live at all. “Detective,” I said softly, my eyes starting to burn. “Today is my birthday.” I hung up and looked at the fruit stand owner. “Sir, I’d like a bowl of noodles.” He shot to his feet, ready to run out and buy them, but then he sat back down. He pulled out his phone, ordered something, and handed it to me. “Here. You pick what you want. It’s on me. I hope, from now on, you don’t face any more obstacles you can’t overcome.” Last life, I was so busy I didn’t even remember my birthday until the next day. Five days later, I was arrested. The hospital room was dim, but for the first time, it felt like a light had been switched on in my life. As I ate, the owner watched me, his eyes glistening. “My daughter,” he said quietly. “She just started college this year. She’s delivering food to save me some money.” My blood ran cold. The girl who died… she was delivering food to earn extra money too. It couldn’t be a coincidence. “She’s stronger than me,” I said, the only comfort I could offer. “She’s a brave, good kid.” Around midnight, my IV was finished, and I went home. The owner had rushed off after a phone call, but not before I managed to stuff all the cash I had into his pocket. I opened the door. The apartment was clean and tidy, just like last time. Chloe was in bed, murmuring sleepily. “What took you so long? You must be exhausted.” She wrapped her arms around me. My body went rigid. I didn’t dare close my eyes. It was her video that had sent me away for twenty years. I kissed her forehead, just like I always did, and went to wash up. What now? Her familiar, steady breathing filled the room. I took her phone, slipped out into the night, and raced to my best friend Flynn’s house. The moment he opened the door, I shoved the phone at him. “Back up everything on this to my cloud drive. And install a tracker on it.” Flynn yawned, rubbing his eyes. “Jules, man, what’s the rush? Did Chloe cheat on you or something?” “Fifty grand,” I said flatly. “You in or should I find someone else?” “I’m in, I’m in!” He got to work while I crashed on his couch. At five in the morning, I took the phone back, stopping to buy Chloe breakfast on the way home. Flynn’s words echoed in my head. “Bro, I checked everything. There’s nothing on there. You’re being paranoid.” The days passed in a haze of anxiety. I wrote a will and had it notarized. “Upon my death, all my assets are to be donated to charity.” On the fifth day, I was at work when Detective Miles walked up to my desk, his expression grim. “Julian Shaw, you’re a suspect in a rape and murder investigation. You need to come with us.”

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My brother, sick of watching me suffer through a ten-year crush, drugged his best friend and delivered him to my bed. I was forced to be the antidote. When we woke up, Jeff Stone coldly agreed to marry me. But soon after the wedding, he left the country. Our daughter and I waited for three years, and when he finally came back, I took her to the airport to meet him. The moment our daughter called out “Daddy,” the woman on his arm, Claire Lowe, couldn’t handle the betrayal. She ran off, right into the path of a drunk driver, and was killed instantly. After that, Jeff never smiled again. He stayed, watching over me and our daughter day and night. I thought my suffering was finally over. But on our daughter’s third birthday, our house caught fire. My first instinct was to save them both, but as I ran to their room, Jeff calmly locked the door, his eyes filled with a chilling, bottomless hatred. “If it weren’t for you two, Claire would never have died,” he whispered through the door. “Every day since she’s been gone has been a living hell. I’ve wanted to drag you both down to join her for a long time.” As the flames consumed us, I finally understood the depths of his hatred. Then, I opened my eyes. I was back on that fateful night, the night Jeff was drugged. As he stumbled towards me, his face flushed and his eyes hazed with desire, I shoved him away with all my might and grabbed my phone to call his one true love… 1 A ragged gasp tore through the air, sending a shiver down my spine. My eyes snapped to the source. Jeff was on the bed, his face flushed with a feverish heat. The top buttons of his black shirt were undone, and it was clear he was losing control. “Nina, come here…” he rasped, his eyes dazed as they found me. In my past life, I would have rushed to his side, my heart aching for him. But now, I scrambled back in terror. It was this night, this one night, that sealed our fate. We were both drugged, and we fell into bed together. Afterwards, he had coldly agreed to marry me, only to spend years abroad, completely indifferent to whether our daughter and I lived or died. I only learned the truth later. He went abroad to be with his true love, Claire. He only came back that day to finally end things with me. But when our daughter called him “Daddy,” the shock sent Claire running to her death, and Jeff’s grief turned into a murderous hatred for us. But that mistake hadn’t been made yet. If I wasn’t the one to be his antidote tonight, then my daughter and I could escape that horrific fate. Without a second’s hesitation, I dialed Claire’s number. “Is this Claire? You need to get to the Grand Althea Hotel, Room 32. Now.” I braced myself against the door, keeping Jeff’s burning-hot body on the other side. At the same time, a familiar heat began to spread through my own veins. I remembered what my brother had said in my past life as he’d pushed me into the room, his heart aching for my unrequited love. “Nina, you and Jeff have been dancing around each other for years. It’s driving me crazy. I’m just giving you two a little push. It’s time he became my brother-in-law!” “Leo, are you trying to kill me?” I had begged. “Let me out!” He’d just chuckled, shoving me into Jeff’s arms. “I put something in your drink, too. Just enjoy it. You’ll thank me in the morning.” A bitter smile touched my lips. Oh, Leo. Jeff doesn’t love me. He never has. Fifteen minutes later, a frantic, pale-faced Claire arrived. She eyed me suspiciously. “Nina, everyone in our circle knows you’re obsessed with Jeff. Why would you be so… helpful? Wasn’t he having dinner with your brother tonight? How did he get drugged? Is this some kind of trick?” She was wary, but when she peeked inside and saw that it was indeed Jeff, her expression shifted. I pushed her towards the room. “There’s no time to explain. Miss Lowe, I know you and Jeff have feelings for each other. You don’t want some other woman to have him tonight, do you? He needs you. He’s about to lose it.” I had no idea where my brother had gotten that drug, but it was brutally effective. In my past life, while Jeff still had a shred of control, he had bitten through his own tongue and snapped the bones in his fingers trying to resist. In the end, it wasn’t enough. But now, with Claire here, he wouldn’t have to fight it anymore. A low groan came from inside the room. The veins on Jeff’s forehead and neck bulged. Claire stared, her cheeks flushing. She straightened her dress, tossing me a smug look. “Well, at least you know your place. You didn’t try to take advantage of him. Now that I’m here, you can give up… wait, why is your face so red?” I just shook my head, urging her to go inside. The moment Jeff’s hands tore at the strap of Claire’s dress, I squeezed my eyes shut and pulled the door closed. The sounds that followed were muffled but unmistakable. Every moan, every gasp, was a knife twisting in my heart. I couldn’t bear it. I turned and fled the hotel. The drug was starting to kick in. In my past life, half the reason I couldn’t push Jeff away was because the drug had shattered my own willpower. While I still had my wits about me, I stumbled to a stop in front of an exclusive-looking private club and staggered inside. A young host smiled at me. “Good evening, miss. How may I help you?” I clutched my head, trying to clear the fog. “I need to hire an escort.” He blinked, then professionally guided me to a private suite. I don’t know how long I waited, but eventually the door opened and a man walked in. He was tall and impeccably dressed in a tailored suit. His gaze fell on my disheveled clothes, and he froze. Before he could speak, I threw my arms around his neck and pressed my lips to his. “I’ve been drugged,” I whispered. “Please… help me.” The man stiffened. I felt him frown, his hands coming up to push me away. “Is it money?” I gasped, fumbling in my pocket. “I’ll pay you anything! Anything you want!” I shoved my credit card into his hand and reached for his belt. 2 Through the haze, I thought I heard the man say my name. “Nina, don’t do this…” So noisy. I shut him up with another kiss. It worked. No wonder this club was so popular. The escorts weren’t just handsome; they knew how to play hard to get. Finally, I heard a sigh from above me. “You started this. Don’t you dare regret it.” Then he flipped me onto my back, his mouth crashing down on mine in a storm of raw, pent-up passion. After a night of tangled limbs and fevered whispers, I woke with a jolt before dawn. It took me a moment to remember where I was and what I’d done. I’d slept with a stranger. An escort from a club. He was still asleep. I quietly dressed and slipped out. As I passed the large plate-glass window of a department store, I saw my reflection. My clothes were torn, and my neck was a canvas of angry red marks. I hurried home, hoping to sneak in before my brother woke up. I slipped through the door and was about to tiptoe up the stairs when a cold voice stopped me. “Where were you last night?” Jeff was leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed. I froze. Wasn’t he supposed to be with Claire? I could see the faint marks of her kisses on his neck. His eyes were lazy, but sharp. I looked down, my heart sinking. I had thought that after last night, Jeff and I would be finished. I could finally start seeing him as just my brother’s friend. “I… just went for a walk,” I mumbled. “Why are you back so soon?” Jeff’s new villa was being renovated, so he’d been staying with us for a few months. I glanced around. “Where’s Claire? Didn’t she come back with you?” In an instant, his expression darkened. “Nina, where were you? And who did this to you?” I realized he was talking about the marks on my neck. I instinctively pulled my collar up. “It’s nothing. Mosquito bites.” A cold, humorless laugh escaped him. “Don’t play dumb. I know your brother drugged your drink, too.” “What, did your little plan backfire? Couldn’t sleep with me, so you ran out and found some other man?” he sneered. “Nina, did you really think calling Claire over and then disappearing for a night would make me worry about you? That’s a pathetic way to play hard to get.” I was stunned. Why was he so angry? I had given him exactly what he wanted. A bitter taste filled my mouth. He thought my sacrifice was just some childish game. His voice was like ice. “As you can see, Claire and I were together last night. I’m going to marry her. So whatever little games you’re playing, I suggest you stop.” I looked down, a small, sad smile on my lips. “Fine.” “I’m sorry about what my brother did, but…” I looked up, meeting his gaze. “I’m really not in love with you anymore.” He stared at me, his brow furrowed in disbelief. Everyone in our circle knew I was in love with him. I’d refused countless dates and set-ups, all for him. But now I knew better. I wouldn’t bring a daughter into this world just to watch her die in despair. Jeff opened his mouth to say something, but my brother’s terrified shriek cut him off. “A GHOST! There’s a ghost in the house!” Leo came sprinting down the stairs, pointing a trembling finger back towards a guest room. “Claire! When did she get here?” Jeff calmly closed the bedroom door. “I brought her back last night. She was exhausted and doesn’t like hotels.” “What?!” My brother shot a complicated look from Jeff to me. “So… you two didn’t… last night?” His eyes darted between the marks on my neck and the ones on Jeff’s. “Leo, I’m going back to bed,” I said, making a quick escape. From my room, I could faintly hear them arguing, my brother demanding to know what had happened. At lunchtime, Leo knocked on my door. I didn’t get up. “I’m not hungry, Leo. You guys go ahead.” A moment later, I heard Claire’s light, tinkling laugh. “Let me try. After all, it’s thanks to Nina that Jeff and I are finally together.” 3 The knock came again, softer this time. “Nina, it’s Claire. Please, for my sake, come out and have some lunch with us.” My parents had always taught me to be polite to guests. I sighed and opened the door. At the table, Jeff was silent, but he was piling food onto Claire’s plate. Soon, it was a small mountain. “Jeff, darling, Nina is right here,” Claire cooed. “She’s already upset about last night. You’re going to make her even more jealous.” Jeff shot me a cold look. “What’s there to be jealous about? You’re the one I’m going to marry. I see her as a sister, just like Leo does.” I said nothing, forcing down mouthfuls of rice that tasted like ash. My brother opened his mouth to speak, then closed it, sighing. A bit of food was left on the corner of Claire’s lips. Jeff reached over to wipe it away, but she stopped him with a playful smile. “No, silly. I want you to kiss it off.” She leaned in, offering her lips. Jeff hesitated for a second, then smiled and leaned in to kiss her. Claire turned to me, her eyes glinting with triumph. “Don’t mind us, Nina. Jeff’s had a taste of it now, you know. You’re still single, but you’ll understand when you get a boyfriend.” The meal was torture. I put down my chopsticks. “I’m full. You two enjoy.” After lunch, my brother finally exploded. “You idiot! You had the perfect opportunity last night! Why did you just hand him over to that two-faced witch?” “Jeff might be blind to her games, but I’m not! That whole display at the table was just to spite you! I told you two had feelings for each other…” “Leo, stop,” I interrupted. “Don’t say things like that anymore.” He stared at me, bewildered. I smiled. “I don’t love Jeff anymore. Leo, can you set me up on a date?” My brother was, first and foremost, my protector. After making sure I wasn’t joking, he let out a long sigh of relief. “Finally, little sis! You finally see the light! I told you not to waste your life on one guy. Jeff’s a great catch, but there are plenty of other fish in the sea.” “I’ll call Marcus Thorne right away. You know, the one you turned down last year? His family’s company is way bigger than the Stones’, he’s handsome, and just like you, he’s never been in a serious relationship. Just meet him. You might actually like him.” I dutifully added him as a contact. I had thought letting go of Jeff would be agony, but now that I had, it was just… quiet. This time, I could change everything. “Jeff, darling, can you help me take my suitcase up to your room?” Claire’s voice chirped from the hallway. She turned to me. “Nina, Jeff’s villa isn’t ready yet, and he wants me around all the time, so I’ll be staying here for a few days. You don’t mind, do you?” “Of course not,” I said, shaking my head. I watched Jeff haul her luggage, a bitter smile on my face. In my past life, after our one-night stand, Jeff had sent Claire abroad under the guise of “furthering her studies” to keep her from being hurt. After our rushed wedding, he had joined her, leaving me to give birth to our daughter, Anya, alone. I had waited and waited, only for him to return holding Claire’s hand. His eyes, when they looked at me then, were always cold. Not like now, when they looked at Claire with such warmth. I turned to leave and bumped into something hard. Claire, who had been carrying a basin of water, let out a startled cry as it splashed all over her. “Claire!” Jeff’s head snapped up. He rushed over, pulling her into his arms and glaring at me. Claire sobbed against his chest. “Nina, if you didn’t want me to stay, you could have just said so. This dress was a gift from Jeff. It was very expensive, and I cherished it. Why did you have to ruin it on purpose?” “I didn’t! It was an accident…” I stammered. “Enough!” Jeff’s voice was sharp. “Nina, I told you to stop with these games. If you don’t want Claire here, we’ll move out the day after tomorrow.” He didn’t give me a chance to explain, just swept Claire up in his arms to go change. As he carried her away, she hooked her arm around his neck and shot me a victorious smirk. 4 When Claire came back downstairs wearing the dress I treasured most, my blood ran cold. “You’ve never worn it since I gave it to you,” Jeff said, as if that explained everything. “Claire can wear it for now.” I gave a weak, bitter smile. I hadn’t worn it because it was too precious. It was the only birthday gift Jeff had ever given me. After he found out about my crush, the gifts stopped. That dress was my secret treasure. But now, I just nodded numbly. “Fine. It doesn’t fit me anymore. I was going to get rid of it anyway.” For the next few days, Claire was constantly draped over Jeff, their public displays of affection clearly meant for me. The day he officially proposed to her, I was so distracted that I got into a minor car accident. I was fine, but a passerby insisted on taking me to the hospital. They came to visit me as a group. Claire’s face immediately crumpled. “Jeff, do you think… do you think Nina did this on purpose? Because we got engaged?” “It’s all my fault,” she whimpered. “If I hadn’t pushed you to propose, this never would have happened…” “It has nothing to do with you,” Jeff soothed her. “Hush. I ordered you that milkshake you like. It should be here. Why don’t you go get it?” The moment Claire was gone, Jeff’s face hardened. “Nina, did you really have to pull a stunt like this on our engagement day? Are you that desperate to break us up? I told you to give it up! There will never be anything between us!” I just smiled faintly. “You’re mistaken, Jeff. I only see you as a brother. And my accident had nothing to do with you.” He didn’t believe me. “Claire and I are getting married soon,” he said, his voice softer but still firm. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll find a boyfriend and get over me.” “I already have one,” I said. “You don’t have to lie!” he snapped, an irrational anger flaring in his eyes. Just then, Claire returned with the milkshakes. She smiled as she handed one to me, deliberately flashing the diamond ring on her finger. “Nina, just give it up. The more you act out, the more Jeff will hate you. See this? I’m the only one he loves. He put this ring on my finger himself. It’s over.” As they were leaving, Jeff gave me one last, long look. “And even if you don’t have a boyfriend, it doesn’t matter. You’re Leo’s sister, which makes you my sister. As long as you drop these ridiculous fantasies, I can take care of you for the rest of your life.” At his words, Claire shot me a look of pure venom, though she quickly masked it. “That’s right. You can think of me as your big sister, too. Jeff and I will both look after you.” But I wasn’t lying. I really did have a boyfriend. My gaze softened as I looked at the gardenia on my bedside table. A gift from Marcus Thorne. At first, I had only agreed to the date to appease my brother. But when I got to the coffee shop, I realized Marcus was the man from the club. I blushed, mortified, but he just chuckled, backing me into a corner. “Shy now? You weren’t so shy the other night.” I was ready to die of embarrassment and never speak to him again, but a few days later, I was followed by a creep on my way home from work. Marcus appeared out of nowhere, landed a few solid punches, and drove me home. “I thought you were an escort,” I said in the car. He glanced at me, one eyebrow raised. “Who told you that? You were the one who was so desperate you grabbed the first man you saw. You’re lucky I was there inspecting my club that night. Who knows what kind of creep you might have ended up with.” I punched his arm, and he caught my hand, pulling it into his lap. “Nina, I’ve liked you for a long time. Be my girlfriend.” Even the car accident had been because of him. He’d told me he was planning to propose, and I’d been so lost in thought that I hadn’t looked before crossing the street. Every time I thought of his face, a quiet joy bloomed in my chest. After I was discharged, I was out of the house from dawn till dusk. One night, I came home late to find Jeff waiting for me by the door. His expression was complicated. “Nina, have you been avoiding me?” I blinked, then laughed. “You’re overthinking things.” But he blocked my path, his hand shooting out to grip my wrist. “You’d better be. Claire and I are getting married soon. I’m warning you, don’t try anything.” I pulled my hand away. “I wish you a long and happy marriage,” I said sincerely. His expression finally softened, but then his eyes fell to my neck, and his face contorted. “Who did that? Don’t tell me it was a mosquito again.” It was a mark Marcus had insisted on leaving that afternoon, a way of “claiming his territory.” Before, I would have hidden it, but now, I had nothing to hide. “I don’t think that’s any of your business.” His face grew even darker. I walked past him, not noticing Claire hiding in the shadows, her face pale with jealousy. The next day, I got a text from Marcus. “My treasure, I’m taking you somewhere special.” I was about to head out when I saw Claire in the backyard, playing on my old swing set. “Nina!” Jeff’s voice called out. I ignored it and left. But when I got home that night, he kicked my bedroom door open, his face a mask of fury. He slapped me, hard. “Nina, how could you be so vicious? Just because Claire used your swing set, you had to sabotage it to make her fall? She’s in the hospital now. Are you happy?”

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The Thorne family heir is a psycho. Anyone who crosses the person he protects is met with savage, absolute reprisal. Unfortunately, the person he protects is my stepsister, Chloe—the person I hate most in this world. The day after Chloe deliberately smashed my mother’s urn, and I broke her wrist in response, I was dragged into a dark warehouse by the Thorne heir’s men. They shattered my hands and feet and severed the tendons in my wrists. Using my last ounce of strength, I begged my most trusted bodyguard for help. The kidnappers just watched, then one of them spoke to him. “Mr. Thorne,” he said, “she’s broken.” In that moment, I knew. I gave up. And as I welcomed death, Julian Thorne finally broke. 1 I found Julian Thorne on the street. It was pouring rain, and a group of men had him cornered in an alley. I leaned against my car window, idly watching the man struggle to survive the storm. He was beautiful. The way he fought was an art form, his rain-soaked shirt clinging to the lean muscle of his back. Every punch, every kick, was mesmerizing. I could see the raindrops atomize on his skin. Even when they broke his nose, the blood only served to paint his beauty with a sharp, tragic edge. He was a perfect, violent masterpiece. But he was outnumbered. They finally beat him to the ground. After he’d taken a kick that I was sure broke his ribs, I finally pushed my door open and dialed 911. The thugs scattered. I walked over and held out my hand. “I save your life,” I said, “and you protect me for three years. Deal?” The rain hammered his face, carving lines through the blood. He looked up, his dark eyes as deep and cold as a quarry, and said nothing. I took his silence as a yes. I’m not a good person. It was a whim, a moment of aesthetic appreciation. No one in this world loved me; I just wanted to choose a single person for my “family.” He was beautiful, he was broken, and he was alone. A perfect stray. I chased him for three years. For three years, he remained just as cold. He was a feral cat that refused to be tamed, treating every attempt at affection with aloof disinterest. It was, honestly, compelling. He didn’t love me. But when I was in danger, he was always the first one there. That was enough. Until the gala. Until he saw my stepsister, Chloe. Until he fell in love with her at first sight. And until my life ended. The day after Chloe “tripped” during an argument with me, I was pushed down a flight of stairs, ending up with a severe concussion. The day after my best friend, fed up with Chloe’s venomous, two-faced act, “accidentally” spilled a drink on her, I was held down and had three bottles of vodka poured down my throat, perforating my stomach. In just a few months, I was a wreck, the target of a relentless, invisible campaign of terror. The perpetrator was the psycho heir to the Thorne fortune. No one knew how Chloe had met him, but all of New York knew he worshipped her. Touch a hair on her head, and you’d lose a limb. Slowly, my friends vanished. My best friend stopped calling, her last words a warning: “Stop fighting Chloe, Elara. That psycho Thorne will literally kill you.” So what? When Chloe “accidentally” knocked my mother’s urn off the mantle, watching it shatter, I didn’t hesitate. I beat her, right there in the living room, until I heard the snap of her wrist. The next day, I was abducted. Warehouse. Tendons severed. Hands and feet shattered. “Mr. Thorne, it’s done, just as you ordered.” The kidnapper’s phone was on speaker. I heard the voice. “Warn her. Next time she dares to touch Chloe, I’ll kill her.” Cold. Detached. The same ruthless cruelty I’d always found so compelling. I couldn’t believe it. How could it be him? How could it be him? The kidnapper repeated the warning, then threw a phone onto the floor beside me. “You can call your savior now,” he sneered. “Remember the lesson.” To make the act more degrading, they had smeared the phone’s screen with a viscous, milky fluid. The stench was vile. I didn’t move. I just lay on the concrete, staring at their triumphant faces. After ten minutes, they got bored and left. As the heavy door slid shut, I heard one last snippet of their call. “Mr. Thorne, the phone is with her. She trusts you more than anyone. I’m sure she’ll call you first… just like always…” The last spark of hope in me died. Julian Thorne. My bodyguard. He really was the psycho heir. 2 I stared at the phone. I remembered when Chloe got “stuck” in our home elevator. She’d called me for help. I ignored her and went for a walk. That night, men grabbed me. I was locked in a dark room. Three days. No food, no water. The hunger, the cold, the suffocating blackness. Julian had a tracker on my phone. He was the only one who could find me. I called him, sobbing, begging for help. His voice was flat. “Just apologize to Chloe, Elara, and I’ll come get you.” I refused. I called the police. But somehow—somehow—they couldn’t find me. When the cops showed up at my father’s house, my father, my brother, and Julian all told them the same story: I was unstable, prone to drama. It was a false alarm. I was blacklisted for filing a false report. That time, I lasted three days. I broke. I cried. I apologized to Chloe. It was the first time I had ever bent to her or her mother. She’d smiled, standing over me. “I’m so glad you finally see the error of your ways, sister.” My father and brother were “relieved.” I was “finally behaving,” “learning my place.” When I got out, I was diagnosed with severe claustrophobia. I’m terrified of the dark. I’m terrified of small spaces. But lying here, in this dark, silent warehouse, I felt nothing. You can only feel fear when you still have the will to live. I didn’t touch the phone. I lay there for three days. I thought about my mom. I thought about how, when she was sick and dying from chemo, my dad stopped coming home. I thought about the photos that woman—Chloe’s mother—sent to my mom’s hospital bed. Photos of her and my father, in our home. I thought about how she and Chloe came to our house for my mother’s “last birthday.” My mother, weak from treatment, had a heart attack. She never recovered. My brother, Marcus, held me as I cried. He promised me. “It’s okay, Elara. I’m here. I’ll never let those monsters hurt you.” Mom was gone for less than a month before Dad moved them in. At first, Marcus was my ally. When did he change? Was it when Chloe offered him her only piece of candy, her hand trembling? Was it when she’d get “bullied” at school, only to cry in the hallway where she knew he’d find her? Like her mother, she was an expert at playing the victim. And I… I was always the villain. The day he first defended her against me, I demanded to know how he could forget what they did to our mother. He snapped. “Mom had cancer, Elara. She was going to die anyway.” The same words my father had used a hundred times. In that moment, I had no family left. And now, the person I had chosen as family, the one I’d rescued… was using that same blade to kill me, all for the same two women. I looked at my broken hands. I looked at the filthy phone. I laughed. This life… it was nothing but betrayal. It was pointless. I didn’t touch the phone. I just lay there. And I waited. 3 I thought I would die. But on the third day, the warehouse door was kicked open. “Why? Why didn’t you call me? ” Julian stumbled in, a man possessed. In the dim light, he saw me. The blood-caked mat, the mangled wrists, the leg bent at an unnatural angle. All sound died. “Elara. Don’t you die. I forbid you to die! ” His hands were shaking as he lifted me. He was acting like he actually cared. I smiled, my lips cracking. “Elara! Elara, please, stay with me!” Something wet hit my face. Are those… crocodile tears? Pathetic. I was rushed to the hospital. I survived. When I opened my eyes, he was there, red-rimmed and hollowed out from lack of sleep. “Why didn’t you call? Why didn’t you ask me for help? Why?” He stared at me, desperate for an answer he couldn’t comprehend. He didn’t understand why the person who had once trusted him implicitly would rather die than dial his number. “Why didn’t you call me?!” He was unraveling, his voice a raw, broken whisper. I found it hilarious. You wanted me dead. Who is this performance for? I glanced at the phone he was clutching. He immediately held it out to me. And as the phone, still crusted with filth, touched his own skin, he finally realized. The dry, foul-smelling stain melted against the sweat of his palm. As a man, he knew exactly what it was. He froze, his entire body going rigid. “They broke… my hands,” I whispered, my throat like sandpaper. “They wanted me… to use… my tongue.” Julian staggered back, as if I’d hit him. He was shaking his head, his face a mask of disbelief and pure, animal horror. I smiled. Julian Thorne. You’re the one who ordered it. How long are you going to keep up the act? I closed my eyes. 4 The doctor came in. “The bones will heal. The tendons… that’s the real problem. The damage is severe. If she’d been brought in immediately, we could have guaranteed eighty percent recovery. But now…” He shook his head. The attending physician, a woman, looked at me with pity. “The VIP patient on the floor above… Ms. Chloe… she’s here for a minor wrist fracture. The Thorne family flew in a specialist team from Johns Hopkins. Our chief of surgery went to ask them… but they said… they said they would only operate if you knelt at Ms. Chloe’s bedside and begged.” She looked down, ashamed. “I was told to relay that message. It came from her brother.” My brother. I smiled. “It’s fine. I can just die.” The doctor blanched. She knew. When a patient says that calmly, they mean it. Julian exploded. “Elara, stop being so dramatic! You hurt her first! It’s just an apology! Is your stubborn pride worth more than your life?” I turned my head and stared at him. “Apologize… to the woman who helped kill my mother? “I’d. Rather. Die.” The veins in Julian’s neck bulged. I’d never seen him this out of control. He wanted me to kneel to Chloe that badly? I would never give them the satisfaction.

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The day Victoria brought her new secretary into the passenger seat of her car, a stream of comments materialized before my eyes: 「The ML is finally here! When is the toxic side-character husband gonna get lost? He’s so annoying!」 「I just want to see the sweet romance between the stoic FL and the sunshine ML. Get lost, old man.」 I pretended not to see them. Instead, I played the part of the magnanimous husband, allowing Victoria to set the young man up in one of our villas, arrange for his grandfather’s medical care, and smooth over all his problems. No one knew that Victoria was pregnant. A woman wasn’t a necessity. Compared to the fate of losing my mind, making trouble for the male lead, and being burned alive, the alternative seemed far more appealing: secure an heir who carries my name, while discarding the mother. Wasn’t that a much sweeter deal? 1 Victoria never mentioned she’d replaced her executive secretary. She pulled up to collect me as usual. The passenger-side window slid down. “Mr. Stack, I’m Ms. Vance’s new secretary!” The boy’s thin, rosy lips curved into a sweet, effortless smile. He showed none of the deference or timidity one would expect when addressing a superior. He made no move to get out. Victoria spoke up. “Adrian, Leo gets a bit carsick. You take the back.” This was unprecedented. Victoria was a woman who lived by boundaries. We’d been married for three years. It was an arranged union, yes, forged to serve the greater interests of our families, but we were hardly a couple in name only. Every night, Victoria would hold me as she fell asleep, whispering about how much she’d added to my personal investment fund. She had once thumped her chest and promised she would never, ever put me in an awkward position. For Leo, she broke that promise for the first time. 2 I am not some mild-mannered, spoiled rich kid. The rules should have been established at the first sign of disrespect. But before I could let my expression harden, the comments flared to life again: 「Here comes the drama! The toxic husband is about to tear into the ML, and the poor boy will have to scurry into the back seat.」 「It’s just a passenger seat! Can’t he let the guy who gets carsick have it?」 They chattered on, dissecting the plot. It turned out I was living in a CEO romance novel. The female lead, Victoria, was cold and untouchable. The male lead was Leo. He’d grown up in a remote mountain village and had been a recipient of Victoria’s charity. He’d endured countless hardships just to get close to her. He was resilient, optimistic, and had earned her special attention and support in his career. Bound by the fact that she was married, he could only bury his years of secret admiration deep in his heart. To the outside world, our high-society marriage was a merger of assets, devoid of true love. I was merely the husband in name. In the original story, I would have tormented Leo from our very first meeting, kicking him when he was down and pushing him to the brink. But my cruelty, instead of breaking him, would only strengthen the bond between him and Victoria. I would continue down my path of self-destruction until Victoria, disgusted, would demand a divorce. I’d blame Leo, arranging for thugs to corner him in a warehouse. But a fire would break out. Victoria would rescue him, leaving me to be burned alive. With the “toxic husband” out of the way, the male and female leads would begin their passionate office romance, leaving a trail of love in their wake, much to the delight of the readers. To avenge Leo, Victoria would then plunder my family’s resources, securing an empire for their three future sons. My poor parents, in their old age, would be reduced to selling hot dogs from a cart. How infuriating. This was not my style. A woman, more important than my family’s legacy? Impossible. Utterly impossible. 3 I opened the rear door and slid inside. Leo sat beside Victoria, his voice low and intimate. “Ms. Vance, you like that special porridge I make, right? I’ll bring some for you tomorrow.” The words were laced with provocation. Victoria, oblivious, answered instinctively. “Okay.” A cold snort escaped my lips. No wonder she’d told the housekeeper to stop making breakfast a week ago. I was a night owl. Victoria, convinced it was unhealthy, used to drag me to bed with her, force me on morning runs, and watch me eat breakfast. At first, I found her nagging annoying. But she would wrap her arms around me, fiercely declaring that we were going to be husband and wife for life, and she wouldn’t allow me to be unhealthy or fall behind. If I did, she’d carry me to the finish line herself. Habit is a poison. And dependency, its venom. Once you’re infected, it’s damn hard to quit. 4 Victoria was perceptive. She caught my dark expression in the rearview mirror and offered an explanation. “Work has been hectic lately. I didn’t want to wake you, so I left early.” Leo chimed in, “Ms. Vance comes in at the crack of dawn just to personally train me. But I’m so slow… she has to explain things over and over again.” She glanced at him, a warmth in her eyes she didn’t even seem to notice herself. But I remembered Victoria’s former secretary—an Ivy League graduate, fluent in four languages, a brilliant and resourceful professional. The slightest mistake from him would earn a merciless scolding. The comparison was stark. Perhaps my silence was too cold. Victoria realized I was truly angry. She pulled the car over and turned to Leo. “Get out and take a taxi.” Then, ignoring my protests, she pulled me into the passenger seat and buckled my seatbelt for me. Leo stood on the rain-slicked curb, looking utterly dejected. A lost puppy abandoned in the storm. The comments exploded. 「No, FL! Don’t do it! What if something happens to the ML taking a taxi by himself?」 「This is all the toxic husband’s fault with his constant glaring! He’s ruining the romantic tension!」 But there were dissenting voices. 「I don’t get it. They’re still married! Are you guys all on Team Home-wrecker, trying to force out the original wife… I mean, husband?」 「What do you know? There’s no real love in these arranged marriages. The one who isn’t loved is the real third wheel.」 5 I was starting to understand. The commenters were split into two camps. One side was all about the plot, desperate for the lead couple’s sweet interactions. The other side stood on moral ground, but still hoped I would act rationally and not create a mess that couldn’t be cleaned up. In the kitchen, Victoria was personally making me chicken soup. My feelings were complicated. To be fair, before Leo’s arrival, she had been a perfect wife. Beautiful, smart, capable. She would voluntarily give my family’s company preferential treatment on projects, we discussed everything, and we were perfectly compatible in bed. We were leagues better than the other society couples who lived separate lives. My mother always said I’d hit the jackpot with a wife who knew how to care for a man. A spoonful of fragrant soup was held to my lips. “Darling, you were jealous today. It made me a little happy.” She sat beside me, leaning into my arms as she always did. I shifted away, avoiding her intimate touch. Victoria froze. “Adrian? What’s wrong?” It was the first time I had ever refused her touch. “Nothing. I’m just tired.” “I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I forgot for a moment how much you hate anyone else sitting in my passenger seat. It won’t happen again.” Victoria had always been scrupulous, brushing off any man who tried to get close. She used to complain that I was too trusting, even offering me her phone to check. Now, her explanation felt like a cover-up. “He and I are just colleagues. Nothing more.” “Mm,” I grunted. A sharp pang hit my chest. As much as I hated to admit it, I had fallen in love with Victoria. But the comments said her true love wasn’t me. They were all just waiting for me to lose control. Why should I give them the satisfaction? 6 Late that night, I feigned sleep. I heard Victoria answer a call, her voice hushed. Leo’s tearful voice drifted from the phone. “Ms. Vance… I’m still walking home… some bad men are following me.” Pathetic. His apartment was in Northwood, a twelve-mile walk. I don’t know what he said next, but Victoria’s voice grew tense. “Don’t be afraid. I’m coming to get you right now.” She grabbed her coat and rushed to the garage. I didn’t move. According to the comments, in the original plot, I would have woken up, furious at being disturbed, and tried to stop her from leaving. Leo would have been mugged by a group of drunkards, and nearly seriously hurt. Victoria, consumed by guilt, would have blamed me. As compensation, she would have bought a sapphire brooch I wanted and given it to Leo. In a fit of rage, I would have shoved her, causing her to miscarry the child she didn’t even know she was carrying. 7 After a full night’s sleep, I decided to pick up my test results from last week. At the hospital, Dr. Evans smiled. “Congratulations, Mr. Stack. Your wife is pregnant. Shall I notify Ms. Vance?” I had forgotten. I was so used to coming to the hospital owned by Victoria’s family. “No, please. Keep this strictly confidential.” Dr. Evans, assuming I was planning a surprise, readily agreed. I felt a little lost. Victoria had wanted a child for so long. But my unhealthy lifestyle had left me with some minor health issues. She had personally supervised my diet and exercise for over two years before we stopped using protection. As I wandered in a daze, I saw them. Victoria and Leo. They were in a hospital room, standing beside a bed where Leo’s grandfather lay. The comments were back. 「Grandpa was so good to the ML. FL, you have to pay the medical bills and get the best international specialist for him!」 「Don’t worry, the FL was raised by her own grandpa. She’ll definitely have a soft spot for him.」 8 The old man, Mr. Henderson, opened his eyes. He took his grandson’s hand and placed it in Victoria’s. “You must be Leo’s girlfriend, right? My grandson likes you so much. He has your picture by his bed.” “Grandpa!” Leo flushed, embarrassed. Victoria started to explain, but when she saw his pleading eyes, her lips tightened, and she said nothing. The comments cheered as if it were New Year’s Eve. 「So sweet! The FL sees how much the ML cares for her!」 「Look at them avoiding each other’s eyes! Even Grandpa with his bad eyesight can see the sparks!」 「Are you guys crazy? She’s a married woman!」 「If you don’t like it, get lost. We’re here for the ship.」 Strangely, as long as I wasn’t in the same frame as the main characters, the comments seemed unaware of my existence. When Victoria left the room, I stepped back around a corner. Leo tugged at the sleeve of her designer blazer, his eyes welling with tears. “Ms. Vance, thank you for saving me last night. And for bringing my grandpa to the hospital.” “Stop crying,” she said softly. “I’ll buy you a car, then you won’t have to worry about taxi fares.” Overcome with emotion, he pulled her into a hug. She held him, murmuring comforting words. If I wasn’t the man being cheated on, I might have found it touching. I took a deep breath. I walked a short distance away and dialed her number. She whispered something to Leo before answering. “Darling, I had to go back to the office for an emergency last night. Are you up? I’ll have the housekeeper make you breakfast.” “Victoria,” I said quietly, “turn around. I’m right behind you.” 9 Victoria’s tall, composed figure seemed to turn to ice. I could feel her stiffness even from a distance. The comments, hearing my voice, erupted. 「Crap, how did the toxic husband get here? Don’t let him show his face in front of Grandpa! He’ll give the old man a heart attack!」 「Quick, camera on the toxic husband! I want to see his rage-face and how the FL is going to protect her man!」 They kept calling me the “toxic husband,” as if I’d committed some heinous crime. Victoria turned around slowly, her voice trembling, terrified I had overheard her tacitly accepting the role of Leo’s girlfriend. “Adrian, I…” But she didn’t see me. The comments breathed a collective sigh of relief. 「See? No way the toxic husband would be here. This is a crucial scene where the future granddaughter-in-law makes a good impression. Thanks to Grandpa, we get all the sweet plot points later.」 「That husband is a liar! He tricked the FL and almost tricked us!」 A few disagreed. 「Why are you guys as disgusting as the main characters? The FL has a husband! Why didn’t she clarify? Emotional cheating is still cheating.」 「Brainless plot-bunnies. You attack the husband just so you can ship your CP. So far, I haven’t seen the ‘original spouse’ do anything to hurt the ML. But the ML is being manipulative and shady. If you were the husband, could you tolerate this?」 I felt a small sense of vindication. Some viewers had clear eyes. Using the angle of the building to my advantage, I stayed hidden and watched her. “You sound guilty,” I said into the phone. “Been up to no good?” Her clenched fist relaxed slightly. “Of course not. I was just afraid you’d worry when you saw I wasn’t home.” I teased her deliberately. “Disappeared at the crack of dawn. Don’t tell me you rushed to the office to eat that porridge your male secretary makes.” “Adrian, don’t be silly. I’m out shopping with Cassy.” “Don’t lie to me. Or I’ll call Cassy to confirm.” “I’m not lying! Call her if you don’t believe me.” “Alright, alright. When have I ever doubted you? Get back to what you’re doing.” “Okay! Remember to eat breakfast. I’ll worry if you’re hungry.” A woman’s words can be pure deception. It had never been clearer. After hanging up, I saw her immediately dial another number. Cassy was her best friend; providing an alibi would be no problem. But once you tell the first lie, you have to keep telling more to cover it up.

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I was born deaf. It’s a silence so complete, it feels like time itself has stopped. My family thought I was just a quiet, well-behaved baby. It took them years to realize I wasn’t responding because I couldn’t hear. Everyone told my mother to give up. “Send her to a state home. It’ll be easier. You can have another.” My own father gave her an ultimatum: “It’s me or the ‘broken’ kid.” Mom didn’t even cry. She just packed our bags and we left. She worked two jobs, taking me with her, and spent her nights teaching herself sign language so she could teach me. I remember her, exhausted, her hand on my throat, mouthing words over and over, trying to teach me how to feel the shape of sound. When I was six, she had finally saved enough for my first hearing aids. That was the first time I heard the rain. It was also when I discovered my “gift.” When I wear my aids, I hear the world. When I take them out, the world goes silent… but I can hear thoughts. From that day on, I almost never took the aids out. Knowing what people really think—it’s not a gift. It’s a curse. 2 There were times, when she was so tired she could barely stand, that my mom thought about leaving. She thought about walking out the door and never coming back. I knew. I’d just tug on her shirt and sign, You won’t leave? She’d burst into tears and hug me, and I’d listen to her thoughts. I love you. I will never leave you. School was hard. Teachers were kind, but kids were cruel. “Deaf-mute.” “Freak.” I never, ever took my hearing aids out at school. I was terrified of what I’d hear. I hated the world’s noise, but I hated its silence even more. So I just… disappeared. I was the quiet girl in the back row. Excellent grades, zero friends. I got my mom’s looks. Not “bombshell,” but “pretty.” Boys would sometimes leave notes in my locker. When I’d politely decline, they’d get mean. “What, you think you’re too good for me? You’re a deafie. I was just being nice.” You learn to ignore it. Their words were never as ugly as their thoughts. Mom opened a small diner, The Dumpling Nook. I’d help out on weekends, clearing tables and running the register. Mom wanted me to stay home and study, but I wanted to help. One day, a group of kids from my class came in. Mom was so happy she comped their meal. The next day, the rumors started. How I was “trailer trash.” The jocks would “borrow” my homework. It always came back stained or torn. My teachers would ask if everything was okay. I’d just nod. I didn’t want to make things harder for my mom. It got worse. Then, I was “asked out” by Ethan Crowe. The school “god.” I was stunned. I had nothing he could possibly want. I said no. I expected him to be cruel. Instead, he just smiled, a flash of perfect white teeth, and ruffled my hair. “That’s okay, Ava. I’ll wait. You’ll come around.” He walked away, his white shirt bright in the sun. That image stuck with me. Of course, the entire school lost its mind. I got a new nickname: “The Girl Who Shot Down Ethan.” I started noticing him. He wasn’t just popular; he was brilliant. On the academic rankings, he was always right behind me. Number two. He was the debate team captain, the class president, the star quarterback. He was everything. Our school put up a “Wall of Scholars” for national competition winners. My photo went up for winning the National Essay Contest. Right next to it was a photo of Ethan, holding a debate trophy, his smile so bright it hurt. The next day, there was a letter in my locker. His name was on the envelope. I waited until I was home to read it. Ava, I read your essay. It was incredible. I feel like you’re the only other person here who’s actually thinking. My asking you out was… clumsy. I apologize. Can we just be friends? If yes, just leave this note in your desk. I’ll find it. —Ethan I shouldn’t have. I should have thrown it away. But… I was lonely. I wrote back: Friends. Let’s both ace the midterms. I tucked my reply into my copy of The Bell Jar and left it in my desk. The next morning, the book was gone. In its place was a tiny stuffed bear. Our “friendship” became a secret. We’d pass in the halls, and he’d give me a small, private smile. That was it. I was grateful. A month later, he texted. I’m drowning in calculus. Meet me at the library on Saturday? Please? It was off-campus. It felt… safe. I said yes. I was nervous. I spent an hour picking out an outfit. He was already there. He was so easy to talk to. I recommended a few prep books I was using. He bought them, and then he bought me a coffee, and we just… talked. Until the sun started to set. I got home that night, and my skin started to itch. By morning, I was covered in hives. I’m deathly allergic to mango. I retraced every step. The only thing I hadn’t prepared myself was the coffee… the one he’d bought me. I missed the state math competition. Ethan showed up at the hospital a few days later with flowers. “Ava! I heard you were sick! Are you okay?” His smile was so warm, so concerned. I pulled out my right hearing aid. The world went silent. 【God, this is boring. I wish she’d stay in here longer.】 I fumbled with the aid, pretending to adjust it. 【She had to have told me she was allergic to mango. I remember it. Thank God it worked.】 …It worked? 【She’s so annoying. This ‘little deaf girl’ act is so old. If she’d just fall for me, I wouldn’t have to pull this crap.】 I put the aid back in. My hands were shaking. “The doctor said…” His voice was smooth as silk. “I… I think I must have eaten something with mango in it. At the diner. I’m so stupid. I ruined everything. I’m so sorry I missed the competition.” He looked genuinely devastated. 【She’s buying it. Perfect. Now I just need to keep her out of the running for the AP Scholar prize.】 I handed him the bottle of water from my nightstand. I made sure he saw the red, swollen rash on my hand. He flinched, just for a second. “It’s okay,” I said, my voice soft. “It was an accident. I should have been more careful. I feel like I let you down. You were cheering for me.” He relaxed, taking the water. “Next time, Ava. We’ll be 1 and 2.” I smiled. Oh, Ethan. You’re not even in my league. “Actually,” I said, “I was organizing my study notes before… this. I can give you a copy when I get out. To thank you for the flowers.” His eyes lit up. 【Her notes? It’s over. I’ve won.】 When an enemy reveals his weakness, the game is yours to control. I gave him my notes. All of them. And they were all correct. It’s just… I gave him the long, convoluted, time-wasting formulas. The ones that take ten minutes when a simpler one takes two. The test is about speed, after all. I’m not a “good” girl. I’m a survivor. He touched my future. He was lucky I was only going for his GPA. Ethan, ecstatic, told me he’d placed second in the math competition. (A new kid, Liam, had taken first.) He was convinced my notes would help him “clinch the top spot” next time. I just smiled. “I know you can do it.” 3 Someone posted a photo of us at the library. The rumors went nuclear. My teachers pulled me aside. I promised them Ethan and I were “just study partners.” They let it go. My grades were my shield. But the whispers… I took out my aids for just a second. 【Look at her. Total user. Playing the deaf card to get the top jock to pity her.】 【I heard she’s faking the deaf thing. She’s just a manipulative bitch.】 I put the aid back in, my head pounding. That afternoon, I was cornered in the bathroom. It was Maya, the “queen bee” of the school. She took a long drag from her vape and blew the smoke in my face. I coughed, my eyes watering. “Heads up, scholarship,” she said, flicking an ash. “Ethan Crowe? He’s not ‘nice.’ He’s a snake. Don’t be an idiot.” She just… left. Ethan, meanwhile, doubled down. He started sitting with me at lunch. In front of everyone. “She’s such a slut. Leading him on.” “She’s probably just after his money.” I tried to ignore it, my hands shaking so hard I couldn’t hold my fork. I took a deep breath. I picked up my unopened orange juice and slid it across the table to him. “Ethan,” I said, loud enough for the tables nearby to hear, “I can’t get this open. Can you help me?” It was the first time I’d ever publicly acknowledged him. He was stunned. Then he smiled, popping the seal and handing it back. You’re the one who started this, I thought. Why should I be the only one to pay for it?

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My sister is… intense. She’s got a bit of a thing for her little brother. When I was ten, we were almost kidnapped. I shoved her out of the way and they took me instead. By the time I was ransomed, my face was ruined and my legs were broken. That’s when Victoria truly took over the family business. I became the one thing in her life she truly loved, and her one trigger for absolute, psychopathic rage. Some kid in her orbit laughed at my scars and called me a freak. Victoria had his head shoved into a duffel bag full of rats. He didn’t have much of a face left. Someone else whispered I was a cripple. She had him put through a car compactor. Victoria is the queenpin of this city, a woman who makes grown men tremble. But she spoils me rotten. She poured a fortune into sending me to Switzerland—the best surgeons in the world to rebuild my face and fix my legs, followed by a quiet university education. Before I flew home, I got an invitation. She was engaged. You’re finally going to have a brother-in-law to spoil you, too, she texted, sending a picture of the guy. But the moment I stepped into the villa she’d bought for me, the door crashed open, and her fiancé burst in with a crew of thugs. He thought I was her secret sugar baby. He pointed at me, his voice cracking with tears. “Victoria’s coming,” he sobbed to his men, “and when she gets here, she’s going to see what I do to the ‘competition’.” Then he looked at me, his eyes full of hate. “Tell me,” he sneered, “what makes you so special?” “Bang!” The glass of the patio door exploded inward. A dozen men in black suits stormed into the living room. I recognized the man in the lead: Chaz. The guy from my sister’s photo. Before I could even say “congratulations,” he swung a metal golf club straight at my face. A sickening crunch. Pain exploded in my nose as warm blood gushed down my chin. I stumbled back, disoriented. “You little boy-toy! Finally caught you!” Chaz screamed, his face purple with rage. “Thought you could just hide out in Europe forever, huh? Sucking my fiancée dry?” He swung again, a vicious blow to my side that cracked a rib and sent me sprawling to the floor. I tried to shield my head. “You’ve got it wrong,” I gasped. “I’m…” Chaz jammed the head of the golf club into my mouth, chipping a tooth. The metallic tang of blood filled my throat. “I’ve got it wrong? You think I’m stupid? You think I don’t know Victoria bought you this mansion?” “You heard we were engaged, so you came crawling back, didn’t you? Try to worm your way in, or at least keep the money flowing!” “Today, you learn what happens to parasites!” He kicked me, hard, rolling me over. My head slammed against the marble coffee table. I was getting angry now. “You’re wrong! I’m Victoria’s brother! I’m Leo!” “She sent me an invitation to the wedding… she…” Chaz paused. One of his men leaned in. “Boss, I have heard she has a twin brother. Leo. Been in Switzerland for years.” Chaz glanced at my face. “Twin? He looks nothing like her.” Just then, another man walked in. Scar on his face. My sister’s right-hand man. Blade. He’d know me! He’d been with our family forever. “Blade! It’s me! Leo!” I yelled, my voice thick with blood. Blade stared. “Who the hell is this? And how does he know my name?” Chaz swung the club again, this time shattering my jaw. I screamed, but no sound came out. “He’s the sugar baby I told you about,” Chaz said. “He must have overheard your name.” Blade shook his head. “No… he said he was Leo. That’s the young master’s name. No one outside the family knows that.” He stalked over and grabbed my face, turning it to the light. “Doesn’t look like him.” My heart sank. He hadn’t seen me since the surgeries. “Wait,” Blade said. “He was sent away for surgery. Is your face… new?” I nodded frantically. Yes! It’s me! Chaz scoffed. “A kept-man who lives off his looks? Of course he’s had plastic surgery.” Blade held up a hand. “Face can be faked. ID can’t. Search him.” Two men pinned me down. I struggled, and Chaz backhanded me across my broken face. “Tie him up.” I was bound and humiliated as they rifled through my pockets. Blade looked nervous. “Chaz, what if he’s telling the truth? If this is really him…” Chaz just lit a cigarette. “So what? I’m engaged to Victoria. I’m family. She’ll forgive me for being a little rough. It just shows how much I love her, right?” Blade nodded. “Right.” They found my wallet. Chaz yanked it out, flipped it open, and burst out laughing. “See? I told you. Fucking liar.” Blade read the ID. “Name… Chris Chen.” He read my university ID. “Jack Chen. This is a fake. The young master’s name is Leo. And he’s in Switzerland, not England.” My blood ran cold. After the kidnapping, Victoria had moved my identity to our mother’s maiden name. She’d told everyone I was in Switzerland as a decoy, but secretly sent me to London for school. All to protect me. Victoria, your paranoia is going to get me killed. Blade’s eyes turned to ice. “You dare impersonate the young master? Beat him.” They descended on me. My phone, which had been in my jacket pocket, clattered to the floor. The screen lit up. Blade saw my lock screen and froze. “Wait.” It was a photo of me and Victoria, last Christmas in the Alps. He picked it up. “This… this is your phone?” I nodded, hope surging. Chaz sneered. “Blade, come on. It’s called Photoshop.” I grunted, trying to get him to unlock it. He understood, and held the phone up to my swollen face. It clicked open. He saw my texts. “He… he has her listed as ‘Sister’,” Blade whispered. Chaz snatched the phone. “That’s what all these gold-digging freaks do! ‘Sister,’ ‘Mommy,’ ‘Daddy’…” He scrolled up, his face turning purple. “She… she calls you ‘my baby’? She says she ‘can’t wait to live with you’?” I wanted to explain. I was her only family. Of course she missed me. Chaz was shaking. Blade looked at me, then at the phone, then at me. “He… he does have the young master’s eyes. Always looked like he was about to cry, even when he was happy. Boss, I’m telling you, this might be him. If we’re wrong…” Chaz nodded, suddenly calm. “You’re right. I’ll just… I’ll just call her.” “If he’s her brother, I’ll apologize. But if he’s not…” He looked at me, his eyes dead. “I’ll make him pray for what Blade’s men are about to do to him.” He had his men gag me and dialed. “Hey, babe! I was just thinking… you said your brother was coming home for the engagement. What day does he get in? I want to get him a gift.” Her voice, happy and clear, came through the speaker. “Oh, that’s so sweet! He lands tomorrow night.” My heart stopped. I’d changed my flight to today. To surprise her. Chaz’s eyes met mine. They were full of triumphant hatred. He was going to hang up. I bit down. Hard. The man holding my mouth roared and let go. “SISTER, HELP ME!” I screamed, pouring every ounce of strength I had into it.

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1 My long-distance boyfriend of several years went bankrupt. “Faye, they took my mother’s house.” Mark’s voice was a fragile, lost thing over the phone. I hung up without another word. That same night, I landed in Port Sterling with everything I owned. I found him, and together, we leased a small stall in the local fish market. “Don’t worry,” I told him, my voice steady. “I’ll buy it back for you.” Three years of my hands, perpetually raw and steeped in the stench of fish, earned us two million dollars in scattered bills. The day I went to deposit the money, a guy next to me at the bank was scrolling through a livestream on his phone, the volume cranked way up. “Mark, my man, you coming back or what?” “What’s the rush? I’m not done playing with my little Fish Girl yet.” He must have left in a hurry. The phone, still streaming live, was propped up on the cutting board. … I recognized the voice in a heartbeat. It was Mark. That voice was a part of me. It had once traveled as a whisper across oceans, soothing me when my mentor’s critiques had brought me to tears. It had been a rough, breathless gasp in my ear, murmuring my name in the dark. But now, the words he was speaking felt like a foreign language. The sound from the phone was just too loud, a relentless, jarring noise that drilled into my ears. A buzzing started in my eardrums and spread, a tremor that seized my entire body until I was shaking uncontrollably. I turned my head, my movements stiff, robotic. Through a blur of unshed tears, I saw the monotonous image on the screen. A yellow rubber hose lay draped over the wooden cutting board, water streaming from it in a ceaseless flow. A sharp filleting knife was stuck into the wood, its blade glinting with blood-streaked scales. I had stood in that exact spot for three years. The voices from the livestream continued, oblivious. “Hahaha, you’ve really got it made, Mark. By the way, where’s the Fish Girl? She’s usually glued to this place. Did the sun rise in the west today?” “I told her the rent was going up. She’s probably at the bank right now, scraping together the deposit.” The crisp, expensive flick of a Zippo lighter crackled through the speaker. Someone was lighting a cigarette. “Seriously? You own this whole damn street. The fact that you’re personally shaking her down for rent… you’re giving her way too much credit.” “What can I say? The girl’s a machine when it comes to making money. I told her we’d get married as soon as we bought the house, and she started selling fish like her life depended on it. If I didn’t raise the rent, I’d be losing out on my own investment, wouldn’t I?” The two of them laughed for a moment. I heard a sound like a hand slapping a shoulder. “Alright, man, stop chatting with me. Your darling Chloe is waiting for you at the coffee shop. Here, take this necklace. You can’t show up empty-handed every time, that’s just rude. Oh, and don’t forget to transfer me the money for it later. It’s over a hundred grand.” “Yeah, I’ll wire it.” The unique, staccato rhythm of Mark’s typing on his phone danced a cruel rhythm on my shattering heart. “Whoa, Mark, you serious? You sent me two hundred thousand?” “Yeah, it’s nothing. Pocket change. Go have fun. I’m heading out, watch the stall for me.” The sound of rustling cash, crisp and fast, was amplified by the teller’s microphone behind the glass. It was everything I had earned. Three years of my life, without a single day off. Just enough to cover a necklace Mark casually bought for another girl. The heavy plastic curtain at the stall’s entrance flapped open and shut. Just as Mark was leaving, the other man spoke again, his tone suddenly probing. “Hey, Mark. It’s been three years. Are you really just messing with her?” The flapping of the curtain paused. In two different places, Mark and I held our breath in shared silence. Finally, I heard his voice, light and dismissive. “Of course. You think I’d actually marry a fishmonger?” As the last word fell, my world, which had been held together by the quietest of hopes, didn’t just crack. It imploded. In an instant, all the strength drained from my body. I couldn’t cry. I couldn’t make a sound. All that was left was a broken heart, uselessly pumping pain through my veins. The screen suddenly went dark. The guy next to me cursed. “What the hell?” What the hell. No four words could have described me better. For a single, pathetic plea from Mark, I had thrown away the Golden Cleaver, the symbol of my craft and honor. I had flown across the world, a fool on a mission to save my fallen hero. And now, in a place where he couldn’t see me, he had sentenced me to death with a single sentence. A fishmonger. If my mentor heard someone call me that, he’d probably use his eighteen signature knife techniques to turn them into a gourmet feast. But I had abandoned his protection, and for what? To happily take on that title. Stupid. So incredibly stupid. “Ma’am? The money has been counted. Are you sure you want to transfer twenty thousand to this account?” the teller asked. I blinked, reality crashing back in. “No. No transfer. Thank you.” I wasn’t renting this stall anymore. And I didn’t want Mark anymore. The bank card in my hand felt impossibly heavy, a dead weight of a thousand days and nights of my own foolishness. Two million dollars. The price of my blind, idiotic devotion. I didn’t go back to the stall. I went to the shabby apartment we rented. I started to pack. Looking around, I realized there was almost nothing worth taking. The matching bracelets Mark had bought me for $1.99, shipping included. The buy-one-get-one-free boxes of breakfast pastries that cost $13.99. A ring he’d twisted for me out of a paper napkin. My collection of foul-smelling rubber boots in various colors. I pulled open the nightstand drawer. It was filled with boxes of condoms. Opened ones, empty ones. When we first opened the stall, business was slow. We had sunk every last penny into it. We were so, so poor. I never thought I’d live like that. We’d make a single bagel last for three meals. Cream cheese in the morning, half the bagel for lunch, the other half for dinner. I used to cry all the time. I cried when I was hungry. I cried when we didn’t make enough money. And every time I cried, Mark would pull me into bed. “Hey, my little crybaby,” he’d murmur. “Let’s do something to take your mind off it.” Surrendering to that raw, primal instinct was a drug, a way to numb the nerves. The 99-cent condoms were cheap and unreliable; they’d tear if we were too rough, or if the angle was wrong. In the midst of crushing material poverty, we clung to each other as if for life itself. The constant creaking of the old wooden bed frame became a lullaby for my soul. Every morning, the floor was littered with used, torn wrappers. I thought, back then, that all I had left was love. Looking back now, I see I didn’t even have that. I don’t know what I was even trying to pack. After an hour, my suitcase was still empty. The trash can, however, was overflowing. I scanned the room, a wave of emptiness washing over me. There was nothing here. Just worn-out furniture that screamed “making do.” A flickering lightbulb, a refrigerator that rattled like a machine on its last legs. I had wanted to make this place a home. But Mark always shut me down. “Don’t bother.” “It’s not necessary.” I thought he was just being frugal, trying to save us money. The truth was, he never saw this as a home. A woman he’d eventually get tired of. A slum that was beneath his true status. Of course, none of it was worth a single moment of his effort. I’d left my ID at the stall. I had to go back. There was only one man there. Mark was probably still at the coffee shop, whispering sweet nothings to his perfectly matched, high-society darling. The man was sitting in Mark’s chair, smoking. When he saw me, he didn’t bother to get up. “Well, well, Fish Girl. Broad daylight and the stall’s empty. Are you even in business anymore?” His voice was familiar. The other man from the livestream. If I hadn’t heard the whole thing, I might have actually believed he was just an impatient customer. “I am. What are you buying?” My flat, indifferent tone seemed to catch him off guard. After a moment, a nasty smirk spread across his face. “I want twenty eels. Deboned. Skinned. And mince them, nice and fine.” I grabbed an eel. A nail hammered through its head, pinning it to the cutting board where it writhed in agony. “You know, Fish Girl,” the man drawled, his voice thick with innuendo, “eels can be… useful for a woman.” I ignored him. My knife, an extension of my hand, made a deft, diagonal slice, sliding along the creature’s length and pulling out a clean, white spine in a single motion. “Want me to teach you how, Fish Girl?” When I continued to ignore him, he got up and reached for my face. I instinctively blocked his hand. The next thing I knew, he was on his knees, clutching his wrist and howling. “You dare touch me? Do you have any idea who I am?” he snarled. “Who are you?” I asked, my voice calm. I truly didn’t care. “I’m…” He was about to reveal himself, but caught his tongue. He still had to play his part in Mark’s little drama. The plastic curtain swished open, and a clean, well-manicured hand pushed it aside. Mark was back. He saw the man kneeling on the floor. “Caleb? What happened?” “Mark, this psycho just attacked me for no reason!” Caleb yelled. I crossed my arms and looked at Mark. “Oh? You two know each other?” Mark’s expression flickered. “Not really. He’s been here before. Faye, did you hit him?” I raised an eyebrow. “You could say that.” His face hardened with disapproval. “Faye. Apologize to him.” No questions asked. Just an order to apologize. Such deep brotherly love. My heart was already too numb to feel any more pain. All I wanted to do was laugh. “Not a chance.” My refusal was a slap in the face. Mark’s expression turned ugly. Before today, I would have smiled and charmed even the most difficult customer for the sake of the business. “Faye, don’t make me force you. Apologize to Caleb.” Caleb smirked, a vicious, triumphant look on his face. “Mark, you can’t even control your own woman? What, she won’t apologize? Fine. Then you can pay up!” His arrogance was astounding. “How much?” I asked. Caleb scrambled to his feet, pointing at a smudge on his sleeve. “Two hundred thousand! This shirt was custom-made last week. It’s ruined now, reeks of fish. And you touched me with your filthy hands. It’s disgusting.” “What’s the account number?” “Talking big, aren’t we? Can you even afford it?” Caleb rattled off a string of numbers. “Sent,” I said, not even blinking. He checked his phone, a flash of surprise in his eyes, quickly replaced by a look of malicious amusement. “That’s just for the shirt! You injured me! You owe me for lost wages!” “Is eight hundred thousand enough?” “Faye!” Mark roared, grabbing my arm to stop me from making another transfer. “Faye! He just wants an apology! Why are you giving him so much money? Get on your knees! Apologize to him, and he’ll let it go!” Mark shoved me, and I stumbled, catching myself on one knee. He tried to force my head down, but I refused to bow, my hand clutching my phone. “Oh, right. And for pain and suffering, emotional distress… is a million enough for that? There. I’ve sent it all.” In less than a minute, I had emptied the bank account. Not a single cent was left. “Are you insane?” Mark’s face was ashen, his eyes looking at me like I was a complete madwoman. “What are you yelling about? You think it’s not enough? Fine! You can have it all!” I grabbed the metal cash box from the counter and smashed it on the ground. Coins and bills scattered everywhere, sticking to the wet, grimy floor. A sharp, jarring pain shot up my arm. In that moment, I realized I hated him. I hated Mark with a rage so pure I wanted to tear him limb from limb. “Faye, what the hell is wrong with you? Do you know how much money you just gave him? That was everything we had!” Mark’s voice was shaking. His eyes were daggers, ready to kill me. My own eyes burned. I met his furious gaze, a silent war waging between us. I pointed to the phone still streaming on the cutting board. I didn’t have to look at the blood draining from Mark’s face. “Don’t worry about it,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “A mere two million. Pocket change. Let your good buddy have fun with it.” I snatched my ID from the counter and walked out to the street to hail a cab. Mark chased after me. “Faye, wait. Listen to me. I can explain.” His expression was desperate, all traces of his earlier anger gone. “Was it fun, Mark? Was it fun making a fool of me?” A deep, cold wound he’d carved inside me was finally beginning to bleed. “Don’t worry, Mark. I can take a joke. You don’t have to wait until you’re tired of me. I’ll leave on my own. Just give me back my ring.” The ring. My mentor’s wife had given it to me before she passed away. Give this to the man who loves you most, she’d said. I gave it to Mark. But he didn’t love me. I’m so sorry, Amelia. I was wrong about him. I’ve tarnished your gift. “Faye, it’s not what you think…” “Don’t say another word. Just give me the ring. After this, I never want to see you again. You make me sick.” A flicker of anger finally crossed his face. “Faye, that’s enough. Just listen to my explanation, and I’ll forgive you for what you said. You’re a fishmonger. There are obstacles for us, real ones. But I can give you money, enough to set you up for life. Just tell me what you want.” The clouds overhead gathered, greedily swallowing the daylight. “I want my ring.” “You’re being ridiculous! You think anyone actually wants this cheap piece of junk?” He ripped the red cord from his neck and threw it at me with all his might. The ring hit a tree and bounced onto the grimy pavement. It rolled, a tiny, glittering circle in the filth, and disappeared down the narrow slit of a sewer grate. My eyes flew wide, feeling as if they might tear at the corners. I scrambled toward the grate like a madwoman. I plunged my hand in without a second’s hesitation. The foul water swirled below, a putrid mix of fish guts, scales, and God knows what else. My fingers scrabbled through the sludge. I was becoming one with the filth on the ground, the stench filling my lungs with every ragged breath. “Faye, it’s just a ring! Are you serious?! Look at yourself! Have you no shame?!” Mark ran over, trying to pull me back. And then the sky opened up. A torrential downpour crashed down on us. “Mark, darling, is this the woman who’s had you so bewitched? Your standards seem to have slipped.” A perfectly dressed woman holding an umbrella emerged from the coffee shop next door. The diamond necklace at her throat glittered, each facet reflecting my own pathetic, drenched form. “Chloe, she’s just some girl I was messing with. I didn’t know she was crazy. Don’t worry, there’s no way in hell I would ever marry her.” Mark looked at me as if I were a piece of trash he couldn’t get rid of. “That’s enough, Faye! What is wrong with you today? How much more are you going to embarrass me?” I tasted blood in my mouth. I couldn’t hear anything they were saying. I just kept reaching, my fingers clawing through the muck, searching for that tiny, precious circle of metal. It was the only thing my mentor’s wife, the woman who was more of a mother to me than anyone, had left me. Mark’s patience finally snapped. He raised his hand and slapped me, hard, across the face. “Faye, stop it! I’ll buy you a new one! A better one! That piece of crap isn’t worth anything! Get up!” Chloe giggled, her hand covering her mouth. “Leave her be, Mark. She’s just a fishmonger. She’s never seen anything nice. A little ring is probably the most valuable thing she’s ever owned. She’s really not in your league.” Mark raised his hand to hit me again. But I finally gave up. I slowly pulled my hand from the sewer, letting the rain wash the filth away. The raindrops pelted my skin, a cold, familiar stinging. I looked up at Mark, a deep sadness welling inside me. “Mark, that night… when you held me… were you thinking about the future we were building together, or were you laughing at how stupid I was?” His expression wavered. I knew he understood which night I meant. My birthday. He’d bought me a cheap strawberry shortcake. The plastic fork it came with bent when you tried to use it. But we sat on the floor, eating it with a six-dollar bottle of cheap whiskey, and we were happy. Then a pipe burst in the living room, spraying us with rusty water, a sudden downpour we couldn’t escape. We were helpless. So we just sat there on the floor, soaked to the bone, laughing like idiots. “Mark! One day, we’re going to buy a huge, beautiful house! It’ll have a massive, soft bed, at least a king-size! And a giant kitchen, so I can cook you all kinds of amazing food. You know, I’m an amazing cook. I was almost a world-class chef.” Why did he nod his head back then? Why did he let me believe in a dream he had already been living his whole life? The rain seemed to stop, or maybe it never did. Mark’s face was slick with water. “Faye, I’ll say it again. I can’t marry a fishmonger. But I can give you money. A lot of money.” “I hope you don’t regret this.” I flagged down a taxi. Mark didn’t know. I wasn’t a fishmonger. I was going to the airport. I was going home.

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I was born a doormat. A chronic, incurable people pleaser. When I was a kid, my little brother wouldn’t eat his dinner, and my dad flew into a rage. He screamed, “If you won’t eat the food, eat dirt!” To diffuse the tension, five-year-old me literally went outside, dug up a spoon of dirt, and ate it just to make my dad smile. Growing up, I clawed my way into a top-tier Ivy League university just to please my relatives and fish for their compliments. The day I stepped onto campus for my junior year, I walked straight into a scene from a bad rom-com. Roses covered the quad. A crowd had gathered around a gorgeous girl. Some guy was confessing his love. And judging by his thunderous expression, he had just been brutally rejected. He stormed toward me, blinded by rage. The path was narrow, the crowd was tight, and I had nowhere to go. To avoid a collision, I panicked and dove headfirst into the campus fountain. Splash. The crowd erupted in laughter. I wasn’t sure if they were laughing at the rejected guy or the soaking wet girl in the fountain. Hearing the laughter, the guy stopped. He turned back and stared at me as I climbed out, dripping wet. “You saw me get rejected, so you jumped in the fountain,” he said, squinting. “Who are you? I’ve never seen you before.” I opened my mouth to explain. “Oh. You like me.” He nodded, connecting dots that didn’t exist. “That’s why you jumped.” A ten-ton accusation dropped on my head. I shivered. “Huh?” He shoved the rejected bouquet of roses into my hands and draped his suit jacket over my wet shoulders. His face was still dark. “Since you’re this obsessed with me, I guess I’ll force myself to date you.” Me: ??? But the word “No” got stuck in my throat. I physically couldn’t say it. Plus, he just got humiliated publicly… maybe he needed this to save face. As a people pleaser, I couldn’t bear to see someone embarrassed. I stared at the wet pavement and whispered, “Okay, sure.” If you know anything about people pleasers, you know we are allergic to confrontation. 1 Asher Sterling dragged me straight to his car. The heat was blasting. Asher ignored me the second we got in. It was just the stoic driver, Asher scrolling on his phone, and me. I figured the situation was too awkward, so he kidnapped me to escape the scene. I was dripping water all over his expensive leather seats. Drip. Drip. To cover the sound and break the suffocating silence, I started rambling. “Knock knock.” No one answered. The driver glanced at me in the rearview mirror. Asher kept scrolling. “Who’s there? Water. Water who? Water you doing ignoring me?” Silence. The air in the car somehow got heavier. “Haha,” I laughed dryly. I lowered my head and pointed at the window. “You can just drop me off here.” Asher finally looked up. “Why? I just ordered a dress for you. We’re going to the hotel so you can change.” “The… hotel?” I gripped the door handle. Dating meant going straight to a hotel? Asher realized how that sounded. “Don’t get any ideas. It’s my brother’s birthday gala tonight. I just need a plus-one to save face.” Okay. Rich boy. If you tell me not to get ideas, I won’t get ideas. I pulled my phone out of my pocket. It was dripping wet. Asher raised an eyebrow, looking horrified. “Is that… an iPhone 6? With a cracked screen?” I nodded. “Yeah. My mom was throwing it away. I thought the phone would be sad, so I saved it.” Asher blinked. “You saved it because you didn’t want your mom to be sad?” He nodded, impressed by my filial piety. “No,” I corrected. “I was afraid the phone would be sad.” Asher: … 2 I changed into the dress and waited for Asher at the hotel entrance. I hate making people wait. When Asher walked out, I saw a flash of genuine surprise in his eyes. He quickly looked away, acting unnatural. “You waited out here this long? You really must like me.” I didn’t confirm or deny. We walked into the ballroom. The party was in full swing. A man walked toward us. When he saw Asher, he smirked with disdain. Then his eyes landed on me, and he paused. “Asher. Couldn’t catch the last one, huh? But honestly… I think this one is prettier.” Asher didn’t speak. He just glared, his face dark. They stood there in a standoff. The silence around us was terrifying. I decided to break the ice. “Thanks! You’re not too bad yourself.” The man looked at me again, his expression complicated, before walking away. The room exhaled. Asher leaned in. “That’s Julian Cross. My sworn enemy. Business, personal, everything. Our families are rivals in DC and Wall Street, so naturally, we hate each other.” I took a sip of champagne. “He loves trying to steal my women,” Asher whispered. I didn’t know how to respond, so I went with empathy. “That’s a little mean.” This was the harshest insult I was capable of. I was trying to please the Prince of New York, after all. Asher looked at me. “…Just a little?” I grit my teeth and went for the jugular. “Okay, that’s very mean.” Asher’s driver walked over and handed me a box. A brand new iPhone. The latest model. “My old one,” the driver lied, looking awkward. It was still in the plastic wrap. I broke my moral code for the sake of the gift. “Julian Cross is a terrible person.” Asher nodded, satisfied. He gave me a few instructions and went to find his brother. Across the room, Julian Cross raised his glass to me. I immediately smiled back. He couldn’t have heard me, right? 3 I drank too much champagne. The room was spinning. I went to the hallway to find a bathroom, but suddenly, a hand grabbed my wrist and yanked me into a supply closet. Click. The door locked. It was Julian. I looked at him calmly. Was he going to yell at me for calling him terrible? I stared at him. He stared at me, the corners of his lips twitching upward. He placed one hand on the door and the other on my waist. “Where did Asher find such a perfect little puppet? Pretty and obedient.” His warm breath hit my face. “If you’re drunk,” I said politely, “I can call room service for some coffee.” He shook his head. “Why don’t you leave him and be with me? I can buy you as many phones as you want.” I blinked. “But I only have one SIM card.” Who needs that many phones? He lowered his eyes, his voice dropping to a whisper. “If you don’t say yes, I might get hurt. I’ll be depressed. I’ll be lonely and sleepless for the rest of my life.” He sounded so sincere. I could almost see tears in his eyes. “Okay then,” I said. “Just don’t tell Asher.” Julian blinked, genuinely shocked. He didn’t expect me to fold just because he played the victim card. Sigh. It’s hard being a people pleaser. Outside, I heard Asher calling my name. He was looking for me. I moved to open the door. Julian pressed me harder against the wall. “Babe, my heart is racing,” he rasped. “Check me. Do you think I’m having an allergic reaction to the alcohol?” He pulled open his mesh shirt. What was I supposed to see in the dark? I could only see abs and chest muscles. I looked down seriously. “It looks… asymptomatic.” Asher’s voice faded into the distance. Julian chuckled darkly. He was playing Asher. And he was playing me. I looked up at him calmly. “By the way, are you trying to seduce me?” 4 The question was too direct. Julian froze. I smiled, reached out, and buttoned his shirt for him, smoothing out the wrinkles with care. “Babe, you should hit the gym. I measured with my eyes… you’re not as big as Asher.” Julian’s playful smile cracked. “Turns out you aren’t a puppet,” he murmured. I switched to my ‘admiration’ face. “What are you saying? If you want a puppet, I can act like one. I can be whatever you want.” His pupils contracted. He looked… conflicted. “I think I like this version better,” he said. I smiled. I’m a people pleaser. I’ll be whatever makes you happy. I learned to be this way to survive. In a family with too many mouths and not enough food, I had to please my parents to get the scraps left over after my brother ate. When my brother started stealing from neighbors, I stole my mom’s phone so they’d blame the theft on him, balancing the scales of justice in my own twisted way. When my parents discussed selling me to the neighbor’s mentally disabled son for dowry money, I smiled and said, “Okay.” Then I put sleeping pills in their porridge, took my ID and all the cash in the house, and ran. Compliance is my armor. Asher likes them innocent? I can be innocent. Julian likes them wild? I can be wild. I am a full-service people pleaser. Julian fixed his collar. “I originally just wanted to use you to mess with Asher. But I’ve changed my mind.” I raised an eyebrow. “So? Should I say thank you?” He looked incredulous. I pushed him aside and unlocked the door. He blocked my path. “Clarify something. Where am I smaller than Asher?” I looked him up and down. “Everywhere.” The crack in his perfect mask shattered. He dropped his arm. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll tell Asher we were in here?” See? One second he’s whining about being lonely, the next he’s threatening me. I made a terrified face, cupping my cheeks. “Oh no! What should I do? I’m so scared!” Then I pushed past him and walked away. I left him standing there, grinning like an idiot. My instincts told me: some dogs only chase you if you ignore them.

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Chapter 1 When I was six, a volunteer teacher came to our village. During the first class, my older sister, Lily, told me to draw a picture in my notebook—a drawing of our mother, chained in the corner of her room. The next day, a fleet of cars with flashing red and blue lights surrounded our house. Police officers subdued my screaming father, then smashed the rusty lock on my mother’s bedroom door. I watched as Mom grabbed Lily’s hand and ran toward a man in an expensive suit. Her face was glowing with a smile I had never seen before. Dad lay on the ground in a pool of blood, his eyes closed. Terrified, I begged Mom to save him. She shoved me away. “Don’t call me Mom! If it wasn’t for Lily, I never would have given birth to a monster like you!” I froze. Lily, didn’t you say that if I gave the drawing to the teacher, Mom would finally hug me? … Everything happening in front of me was nothing like what I had imagined. The man in the suit, who held my mother tightly, stared at me with cold, deadly eyes. He looked like someone important, someone powerful. After kicking my unconscious father a few more times, he walked toward me. His large hand blocked out the sunlight. I squeezed my eyes shut, trembling. “Wait…” It was Mom’s voice. She tugged at the man’s sleeve and looked at me with a complicated expression. My heart leaped. Lily was right! I gave the drawing to the teacher, and now Mom liked me. But then Lily pulled away from Mom’s embrace, pointed a shaking finger at me, and screamed through her tears. “Mommy, it’s her! That kidnapper loved her the most!” “He gave her all the good food first! He called her his little treasure!” “Her kidnapper dad made us suffer so much! Why aren’t we punishing her?” Mom’s body stiffened. The look in her eyes changed instantly. The man, hearing this, looked at me like he wanted to kill me. Bang! He kicked me to the ground. The hard sole of his shoe slammed into my chest. It felt like my insides were being rearranged. “Mommy… Mommy…” I cried out for her, but she just held Lily tighter, never looking back at me again. Hearing me call her “Mommy” only seemed to make the man angrier. He started kicking and punching my curled-up body. The pain was suffocating. My vision blurred. Mommy, didn’t you like me just a second ago? Why don’t you like me anymore? A police officer finally pulled the man off me, saving my life. My father, covered in blood, was handcuffed and taken away in a car with flashing lights. As he passed me, he smiled faintly, mumbling something I couldn’t hear. I knew the man in the silver bracelets wasn’t coming back. Mom and Lily were getting ready to leave too. Panicked, I wailed and grabbed Mom’s leg, kneeling on the dirt. “Mommy, don’t leave me! I’ll be good, I promise!” Mom stopped. But Lily started crying again. “Mommy, I’m scared! I don’t want to see her!” Although none of them wanted to take me, the police insisted. Reluctantly, they put me in the car. The seat was soft, but I was too scared to move. I was terrified my dirty clothes would stain it, and they would throw me out. I started feeling dizzy. When the car took a sharp turn, I couldn’t hold it in anymore and fell against Lily. Lily burst into tears. “You bullied me before, and now you’re bullying me again! I hate you! I never want to see you again!” In the end, they found a thick rope. One end was tied to my wrist, the other to the back of the car. They dragged me behind the car like a piece of trash. By the time the car stopped, I was a bloody mess. Chapter 2 I spent a month in the hospital. Every time the doctor came in, he looked at me with pity. Mom never came. Not once. Only Lily visited a few times. Each time, she wore a beautiful princess dress I had never seen before, holding fancy snacks. She sat by my bed, crunching on chips, bragging about her new life. “Daisy, Daddy bought me a huge toy castle. It’s bigger than our old house in the village.” “Mommy took me to eat French food. Escargot is so delicious. You’ve probably never even heard of it, have you?” Her words stung, like little needles in my heart. But I never said a word. I just watched her quietly. After I recovered, I was taken to their home. It was a mansion, but my room was in the attic. Small, stuffy, with only a tiny skylight. I wasn’t allowed to leave my room, let alone go to school. Every day after school, Lily would come to my door in her pristine uniform, carrying a cute backpack, just to show off. “Daisy, today in art class, the teacher taught us how to paint. It was so fun.” “Daisy, my classmates invited me to the amusement park this weekend. Mommy already said yes.” I wanted to go to school too. But from the whispers of the maids, I vaguely understood my background. Until one day, Lily dragged me out of the attic and brought me to Mom. “Mommy, let Daisy go to school too.” “It was the kidnapper’s fault, not hers. We shouldn’t take it out on Daisy.” After Lily begged repeatedly, Mom finally relented. “Fine. Go if you want. Just don’t cause trouble.” Mom didn’t even look at me. She dropped those cold words and walked away. Even though Mom still didn’t like me, I could finally go to school. I was enrolled in the same elite private school as Lily. I thought this was the start of a new life. But on my first day, my desk was covered in black ink. My new textbooks were torn to shreds, confetti scattered across the floor. I didn’t dare make a sound. I cleaned it up silently, alone. During recess, a group of rich kids cornered me in the bathroom. “Hillbilly trash! Do you even know how to use a toilet this fancy?” “Look at her clothes. So tacky!” “I heard her dad was a kidnapper. Scum like that shouldn’t have kids!” A heavy-set girl grabbed my hair and shoved my head into the toilet bowl. I struggled, but I was too weak. I choked on the yellow water. Just then, Lily appeared. She frowned and shouted, “Stop bullying my sister!” She pulled me out of the toilet. “My sister just came from the countryside. She doesn’t know how to use a flush toilet. Don’t laugh at her.” “Mom and Dad brought her back. Even though… even though she doesn’t really look like us, please, for my sake, stop bullying her, okay?” But after saying this, she covered her nose and looked at me with disgust. “Why do you smell so bad? Did you not shower again?” After her “defense,” the group laughed even harder. “Oh, so she’s the charity case the family took in!” “Don’t worry, Lily. For your sake, we’ll take good care of her!” After school, I went home filthy. When Mom saw me, she frowned in disgust. “Just like that animal. Only knows how to cause trouble.” I said nothing. I dragged my exhausted body back to the attic. Locking the door, I pulled out some paper and a pencil from under my bed. I had found them in the trash. Lying on the floor, I drew a little girl. She was standing on the edge of a cliff. Behind her, countless invisible hands were pushing her into the abyss. Chapter 3 I quickly learned the rules of survival at school. No matter how they insulted me or pranked me, I kept a poker face. They wouldn’t let me study, so I pretended not to listen in class. But back in the attic at night, I studied bit by bit. Until one day, Lily tore all my notes into pieces. “Daisy, Mommy isn’t going to pay for your college anyway. This trash takes up too much space. I cleaned it up for you. You’re welcome.” In that moment, something inside me snapped. I pushed her. Hard. She didn’t expect me to fight back. She fell backward, hitting her forehead against the corner of the table. Blood trickled down. “Ah!” Mom and the servants rushed in immediately. Lily cried and threw herself into Mom’s arms. “Mommy, Daisy hit me! She said I’m a bad person and she wants to kick me out of the house!” Mom looked at the cut on Lily’s forehead, then at me. Her eyes turned vicious. “You ungrateful little wolf! Lily treats you so well, and you dare to hit her!” Mom raised her hand and slapped me across the face. My “father,” Mr. Sterling, rushed in too. “You touched Lily? I’ll kill you!” He grabbed my hair and slammed my head against the wall. Pain exploded in my skull. Lily hid behind Mom, her eyes red. “Daddy, don’t blame Daisy. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have touched her things…” “What things does she have? A bastard child, eating my food, living in my house, and daring to bully my daughter!” He looked around, grabbed a leather belt from the wall. The belt gleamed in the light. Mom watched without a flicker of emotion, only hugging Lily tighter. Crack! The belt lashed across my back. My clothes tore instantly. Burning pain made me curl into a ball. “It wasn’t me…” I could barely speak through the pain, but I tried. “She… she tore up my notes…” “Still lying! Still framing Lily!” Crack! Crack! Crack! The belt hit my back, my legs. Everywhere was tearing pain. I looked up at Mom in the doorway, begging silently. She finally spoke, but not to save me. “Just like her kidnapper father. Full of lies. Born bad.” Mr. Sterling threw the belt down and started kicking me. Chest, stomach, back… every kick felt like my organs were rupturing. The taste of blood filled my mouth. My vision blurred. Before I closed my eyes, I saw Lily peek out from Mom’s embrace. A faint, triumphant smile curled the corner of her lips. Chapter 4 In middle school, Lily’s grandmother returned from abroad. That night, the family held a grand dinner. At the table, Grandma met Lily and me for the first time. Lily was poised and charming, calling “Grandma” sweetly with every breath. Grandma responded politely but kept glancing at me in the corner. Halfway through dinner, Grandma wanted to walk in the garden. As we passed through the foyer, Lily, walking behind me, suddenly stuck out her foot. I tripped and fell forward. Crash! Grandma’s favorite antique vase shattered on the floor. Lily screamed immediately. “Ah! Daisy! How could you be so clumsy! That was Grandma’s favorite vase!” Mom’s face darkened instantly. She stormed over, raising her hand to slap me. But the slap never landed. A hand pulled me behind them. Grandma stared coldly at Lily. “Don’t play these cheap tricks in front of me.” Lily’s face went pale. Mom froze. After that, my life improved slightly. At least Lily stopped openly tormenting me. Although Mom still didn’t like me, I understood. I focused on my studies. I couldn’t change my birth, but I wanted to change my fate. My grades soared. I even skipped a grade and became Lily’s classmate. She was jealous. She started sabotaging me in every way possible. In the final mock exam before college entrance tests, I ranked first in the grade again. As long as I maintained this, I could start a new life. But the day after the exam, Lily reported me to the homeroom teacher. “Teacher, Daisy cheated. Here is the evidence!” Looking at the slip of paper in her hand, I trembled with rage. “You tore that from my scratch paper!” “Lily, why are you doing this to me!” Just then, Mom rushed in. Without asking a single question, she slapped me across the face. “Have you no shame!” “You’re useless yourself, so you have to frame your sister! You’re just like your kidnapper father—rotten to the core!” Mr. Sterling followed Mom in, pointing at my nose and cursing. “You have disgraced the Sterling family!” “From today on, don’t step foot in our house!” The principal walked in. “Mr. Sterling, I think we need to investigate further. Daisy has always been a top student. She has no reason to cheat.” Before Mr. Sterling could speak, Mom cut in. “She’s bad to the bone. A pathological liar. Maybe she cheated on every exam to get first place.” “I didn’t cheat! The note is fake! Check the surveillance cameras!” I screamed. “Shut up! A kidnapper’s child getting an education is already a miracle. If we say you cheated, you cheated.” Under Mr. Sterling’s pressure, the principal adjusted his glasses and avoided my gaze. “Um… Daisy Sterling, senior class one. Due to misconduct and cheating, you are hereby expelled and disqualified from the college entrance exam.” My world collapsed in that instant. I knelt and begged the principal to check the cameras, to prove my innocence. But he just glanced at Mr. Sterling and shook his head slightly at me. Walking out of the office, Mom and Dad flanked Lily protectively, leaving me far behind. At the stairwell corner, Lily deliberately slowed down. She leaned close to my ear and whispered, so only I could hear: “Daisy, you can’t beat me. In your next life, make sure you’re born into a better family.” I looked at her smug face. Years of grievance exploded in a split second. I used all my strength and shoved her toward the railing. “Ah—!” Lily screamed as she fell from the fourth floor. I climbed onto the railing and looked down at the two shocked parents. “Mom, I’m giving this life back to you. In the next life, I never want to know you.” Wind roared in my ears. I saw the mother I drew in my notebook, the one chained up. She reached out to me, wearing the gentle smile I had imagined a thousand times. This time, she would definitely hug me. Lily and I were rushed to the hospital. Mom screamed and cried for Lily, completely ignoring me, equally covered in blood, on the other gurney. Mr. Sterling hovered anxiously around Lily. Chaos in the ER. “Patient has lost too much blood! We need a transfusion! She’s Type B, blood bank is low!” “Take mine! I’m her father!” Mr. Sterling rolled up his sleeve frantically. The doctor shook his head. “No, you’re Type A. Not a match.” Both parents froze. “Impossible? I’m O, he’s A. How can Lily be B?” Just then, a nurse ran over with my lab results. “Doctor, this girl is Type A. We can use her blood!” Silence fell over the ER. At that moment, several police officers walked in. “Mr. Sterling, Mrs. Sterling. We are from the City PD.” “The kidnapper, Zhou Yong, just revealed a major secret to bargain for medical parole.” “He confessed that years ago in the hospital, he swapped his biological daughter with yours.”

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1 The day my fiancé and the true heiress announced their engagement, I wanted to drive my car straight into the hall and take them all down with me. But just as that insane thought took hold, my phone wouldn’t stop ringing. I answered. It was the hospital. “Miss Qin, you’re pregnant…” The engine died, and I sat there, frozen. Half an hour later, as cheerful music drifted from the grand hall, I started the car again. I turned it around and drove straight to the airport. And so, just as everyone wanted, the fake heiress of the Qin family vanished from Veyra City. I fled a thousand miles away to Port Blossom. I fought tooth and nail to survive, to bring my daughter—my own flesh and blood—into this world. I never contacted any of them again. Until four years later, when they started showing up, one by one. 2 The first time I saw Leo Vance in four years was outside the kindergarten. I had just picked up Daisy when another mom nudged me. “Hey, Daisy’s mom, look across the street. Isn’t that the famous singer… what’s his name again…” I followed her gaze and saw him. “Leo Vance!” The mom snapped her fingers. “That’s him!” I pulled my eyes away. “Never heard of him.” She looked surprised. “You don’t listen to music? Leo Vance! He’s been the biggest indie singer-songwriter for the past few years! Won a ton of awards!” She leaned in closer. “You know, looking at him… he actually looks a bit like you. You both have that kind of striking beauty…” I just smiled and shook my head, leading Daisy away. “Barbara Qin.” His voice cut through the air behind me. I ignored it and kept walking. “Barbara!” Daisy looked up at me. “Mommy, is that man calling you? Why did he call you Barbara Qin?” I smiled down at her. “He’s got the wrong person, sweetie.” But when we reached the parking lot, just as I was about to open the car door, a hand grabbed my arm. I turned. It was Leo, panting, his face flushed. “Barbara,” he breathed, “you… you’re actually alive?!” His words, as always, were laced with acid. But maybe from the run, his eyes were rimmed with a faint, unmistakable red. 3 I dropped Daisy off at the neighbor’s. When I came back downstairs, Leo was leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets. “What are you doing living in a dump like this? Where’s your apartment? I’m coming up.” I shook my head. “There’s no need.” Four years ago, he was the one who said his only sister was Isabelle Vance. He was the one who said the thought of calling someone like me his sister made him sick. When Ethan Qin cast me out, when Julian abandoned me, I was lost. I had thought, for a desperate moment, of turning to him—my own blood brother. I stood outside his record label’s building all night in a blizzard, nearly freezing to death. But all I got from him was a single, brutal sentence: His greatest wish was that I had never been born. “If you didn’t exist, Isabelle would never have been switched at birth. She wouldn’t have had to suffer so much.” “Sister? What a joke. Now that the Qins have thrown you out, you’re trying to play the ‘family’ card with me? I would never acknowledge someone like you.” That’s when I finally understood. No matter how much I had done for him, he would always hate me because of Isabelle. Now, he was looking at me with that same judgmental gaze, his brow furrowed. “That kid… is she Julian’s? Did you run off just to have his baby?” I paused. “She is my daughter. Mine alone.” A smirk twisted his lips. “Barbara, she’s the spitting image of him. Do you think I’m blind?” “Don’t tell me you actually thought you could win him back by secretly having his kid. Are you that delusional… God, it’s not just pathetic, it’s sad.” “I told you, she is my daughter,” I cut in, my voice sharp. “I have no intention of ever returning to Veyra City, and I certainly have no plans to use my child to fight with your precious Isabelle over Julian. You can relax. You don’t have to be so hostile.” “Just like you said back then, we’re strangers who happen to share some DNA. I’m not interested in your life, so please, do me the courtesy of staying out of mine.” He stared at me, stunned. “If there’s nothing else, you should go,” I said, turning away. “Wait.” He grabbed my arm again, his grip tight. He opened his mouth, then closed it. “You… you…” I frowned. “What?” “Why… why did you leave back then?” he finally stammered out. “You were a pampered princess who couldn’t do anything for herself. So what if a few people said some mean things? You just had to run away with a baby in your belly like some drama queen.” “If I hadn’t found you, how long were you planning on living this miserable life? And these past four years…” He hesitated. “How… how the hell did you survive?” 4 I glanced at his eyes, red-rimmed again. Probably from anger. He was likely shocked that I was still alive. My existence was a threat to Isabelle’s perfect life. How did I survive? Someone else gave their life so I could. But I had no reason to tell him that. The old Barbara Qin was a delicate hothouse flower, sheltered from the world. But the woman I was now, Barbara Shaw, had long ago learned not to cry for help. He saw my silence and grew agitated. “What’s wrong with you? Why are you so withdrawn? Don’t tell me that big earthquake in Port Blossom a few years ago rattled your brain. Serves you right for running off to a godforsaken place like this.” Just then, a neighbor walked by. “Hey Barbara, getting dinner started?” I forced a smile. “Just about to.” Leo froze. “You should go now,” I said. But his grip on my arm tightened. “Why did your name change? Shaw?! Are you married? Wait, whose name is that?” “Whose name it is has nothing to do with you.” I pried his fingers off my arm, one by one. “My name, my life… Leo, none of it is any of your business.” 5 Leo was a celebrity. He couldn’t afford to make a scene in public. I went upstairs, brought Daisy home, and from the hallway window, I saw him still standing below, looking lost. He never cared about me before. This sudden display of concern was probably just his discomfort with my new indifference. After all, four years ago, when I learned of his musical dreams, I had used every connection I had in Veyra City’s high society just to get him an audition. The very record label he was signed to now was the one I had fought to get for him. He was my brother. He had suffered. I wanted him to succeed. But he twisted my kindness into a calculated plot to isolate and hurt Isabelle. “Mommy, was that uncle today… your family?” Daisy asked from her bed. I paused, then smiled, stroking her hair. “No, sweetie. Why would you think that?” “Just guessing. You two look alike.” Family. An image of Ethan flashed in my mind. I used to believe that no matter what, blood or not, Ethan would always be my brother. But four years ago, he had held Isabelle in his arms after she’d fallen down the stairs, and the look he gave me was pure rage. “Barbara, you have disappointed me more than I can say.” “From this day on, you are no longer a part of the Qin family. And I no longer have you as a sister.” “My only sister is Isabelle.” I had cried, clinging to his legs, pleading that I hadn’t pushed her, begging him not to abandon me. But he kicked my hand away and walked out with Isabelle in his arms, never looking back. I shook my head, clearing the memory. “That man is not mommy’s family.” Daisy’s face fell. “Oh. I thought maybe you had other family besides Uncle Sean.” I smiled and booped her nose. “Mommy has you and Uncle Sean. That’s all I need.” “But Uncle Sean is gone…” she mumbled, her lip trembling. “I miss him.” I understood. But a gentle sadness was better than the soul-crushing agony of having something, depending on it, only to have it ripped away. I had lived through that. I would never let my daughter experience the same pain. I just never expected to see Ethan the very next day. 6 Daisy spiked a fever in the middle of the night. I rushed her to the hospital. The viral infection was aggressive, and she needed to be admitted for an IV drip. I didn’t sleep a wink. By morning, the fever finally broke. She was listless and weak. I carried her on my back, stopping at a street vendor to buy some meat and vegetables on the way home. Just as I paid, a hand with long, elegant fingers took the bags from me. I froze. I looked up and saw Ethan’s face through the hazy morning mist. My sleep-deprived brain went blank. For a split second, I almost called him ‘brother’ before I remembered. He had forbidden me from ever calling him that again. The Qin family was a power I couldn’t afford to cross. After all, to punish me for ‘bullying’ Isabelle, Ethan’s single word had been enough to get me blacklisted by all of Veyra City. “Mr. Qin,” I corrected myself immediately. I was too busy trying to figure out why he was in Port Blossom to notice the flicker of pain that crossed his face. “Let me carry that,” he said softly. “It’s fine.” I reached for the bags, but my movement was clumsy, and Daisy whimpered on my back. “Don’t push yourself, Cece.” He stopped me, his hand on my arm, keeping the bags from me. “Let me take you and the child home.” 7 Cece. It had been so long since Ethan had called me that. Our parents were always abroad, so for most of my life, Ethan was the one who raised me. And when he saw me as his sister, he truly spoiled me. Someone once asked him if he wasn’t afraid I’d cause trouble with how much he pampered me. He had just smirked. “So what if she causes trouble? Let her. No matter how big the mess, I’ll be there to clean it up.” But then Isabelle came home. At first, he promised me I would always be his sister too. But every time Isabelle provoked me, he would tell me to be the bigger person. “She’s been through a lot, Cece. Just let it go.” He said we had to make it up to her. I didn’t want to make things difficult for him. He had been my brother for over twenty years; I just wanted him to be happy. So I let it go. I endured it. Again and again. It wasn’t until he blindly believed Isabelle’s lies about me that I finally realized: I saw him as my brother, but he had long since stopped seeing me as his sister. And when he took back all his affection, leaving me to be torn apart by the world, I understood just how foolish I’d been to ever depend on him. We drove in silence. It had been ages since I’d ridden in a Maybach. The luxury felt alien. I just held Daisy tighter, my mind racing. Did Leo tell him? Was he here to make sure I wouldn’t hurt Isabelle? What would he do to me? Punish me for secretly having Julian’s child? I didn’t know. My head throbbed. I hugged Daisy closer, completely missing the look of profound longing in his eyes as he watched me. “Cece…” I looked up. There were new lines around his eyes. “Four years ago… we all thought you…” “You thought I was dead, I know,” I finished for him. “Honestly, it’s better if you just assume I am. I gave up fighting with Isabelle a long time ago. Everything was hers to begin with; it’s only right that it went back to her. You don’t have to be so tense, so defensive. You don’t need to come check on me. All I want is to live a quiet life with my daughter.” “And about my daughter,” I added, “she will only ever be with me. I will never go looking for Julian. I swear on my life, I will not use her to sabotage Isabelle and Julian’s relationship. You can rest assured.” I met his gaze and repeated, “You really can rest assured.” He looked stunned. “That’s not…” “Then are you afraid I’ll use the Qin family name to cause trouble? Don’t worry, I won’t. I changed my last name years ago…” “Cece!” he cut in, his voice cracking. His eyes were red. “Brother… is here to bring you home.”

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