Category: English

Everyone in New York’s legal circles knows that top-tier lawyer Julian Sterling loves his wife more than life itself. To declare his devotion. He even tattooed my name on his collarbone. Even when jet-setting across countries for work, he would always carve out a few hours just to fly back and see me. But outside his office, I overheard his employees gossiping: “The boss just got back, and he’s already flying out with Chloe again to ‘relax’.” “You don’t get it. The little mistress is hungry, and our boss needs to feed her.” “Gotta hand it to her, Chloe is a knockout. That body…” “Of course. Last time, they went through a whole box in his office.” I stood in silence. I glanced at the message Julian sent me this morning. [I’m flying out to handle a divorce case. Be good and wait for me at home, wifey.] What he doesn’t know is that the client for this divorce case… Is me. 1 I left without making a sound and took a cab home. On the wall hung our wedding photo. In it, Julian looked at me with eyes full of deep, unwavering love. Next to my hand lay the video Chloe had sent me. In the video… Chloe’s hands were tied to the headboard with a tie. Her tight skirt was pushed up to her waist. Julian, usually so cold and composed, was red-eyed with lust. He was panting heavily as he sent the woman beneath him to the clouds. I watched for a second. Then I turned off the screen. The floor-to-ceiling window reflected my current state. Mascara running down my face, makeup ruined. I looked pathetic. My hands trembling, I logged into my alt account and messaged Julian. [My husband is cheating on me with his mistress right now. What should I do?] An hour later, he replied. [Save all evidence of your husband’s infidelity and send it to me.] [Okay. I’ll organize it and send it to you in a few days.] Using my alt account, I formally hired Julian. To help me win this divorce lawsuit. Hubby. I hope you’re satisfied with the evidence when you receive it. I didn’t sleep a wink. The next morning, as dawn broke, I heard the roar of an engine and the hiss of tires downstairs. Julian crept upstairs carefully. He opened the bedroom door and froze when he saw my back. “Babe, why are you up so early?” I told the truth. “Insomnia.” “What’s wrong?” Julian’s eyes filled with worry and panic. He strode over and pulled me into his arms. “Babe, are you upset because I haven’t been spending enough time with you lately?” I nodded, playing along. Julian looked heartbroken. He cupped my face and coaxed me gently: “It’s all my fault. I’ll cancel all my work today. I’ll stay right here with you.” I looked up at him. He leaned in, his eyes dark with affection. Just as his lips were about to touch mine, I turned my head. I wiped a hickey on the back of his neck. “Julian, you’re dirty.” Julian’s breath hitched for a second. Years of being in power had trained him to remain calm in any crisis. He smiled and patted my head. “I was in such a rush to come back to you, I didn’t notice I got dirty. I’ll go shower right now.” I didn’t respond. I got up to wash my face. Julian thought he had fooled me perfectly. He didn’t know he was sweating with nervousness. In the bathroom, the water ran. Julian gripped his phone, whispering fiercely: “Didn’t I say not to contact me? If my wife finds out, we’re done.” Chloe sobbed on the other end: “But I bought that lace dress you like. Don’t you want to see it?” Julian didn’t answer. He hung up. But his breathing grew heavy. He turned the cold water to the max. 2 After lunch, Julian enthusiastically dragged me to a street fair. The fair was bustling, filled with people, washing away some of my gloom. Julian held various snacks, coaxing me to eat more. We walked to a wishing wall covered in wooden plaques. Julian squeezed my hand. “Babe, want to hang one?” I shook my head to refuse. Suddenly, Julian’s phone rang. It was Chloe’s exclusive ringtone. He hung up in a panic, but she called again and again. I looked at him calmly. “Answer it.” Julian answered, his face full of impatience. “Didn’t I say I’m with my wife today? Don’t call me unless it’s urgent.” I don’t know what the other side said. Julian’s breathing suddenly became heavy, his eyes darkening with desire. He turned to me, his face full of guilt. “Sorry, babe. There’s a really tricky case I need to handle.” I nodded, suppressing the nausea churning in my stomach. “Work is important.” I took a few deep breaths and clenched my fists. At the highest point of the wishing wall hung our plaque. I took it down, tracing the faded writing. [To grow old together, side by side — Sarah & Julian] Back then, Julian looked at me with such deep love and sincerity: “I wish to walk with you until our hair turns white. To never leave you, in life and death.” I used to drown in those vows of eternal love. Now, I don’t want these rusted promises or this rotten affection. Expressionless, I threw the plaque into the trash can and walked away. Chloe sent me a message. [He said he was thirsty and insisted on drinking from me. It tickles so much.] [Sister, I spilled red wine on myself, and he got drunk eating it off me. You won’t be mad, right?] In the video she sent, Julian was greedily sucking the wine off Chloe’s body. From top to bottom, exploring every secret. I didn’t reply. I just saved the evidence. When he came back, I was curled up on the sofa reading a book. Julian came up behind me and kissed behind my ear. A gesture I used to love now reminded me of him licking Chloe’s body today. I trembled with disgust and retched. Julian looked anxious for a moment, then suddenly delighted. “Babe, what’s wrong? Are you…” I cut him off. “I’m fine.” Julian lowered his head guiltily. “It’s my fault for being busy today. I didn’t keep you company properly. I’ll make it up to you tomorrow.” He brought out bags of gifts from behind his back—handbags and jewelry I liked. Every time he did something wrong, he used this method to compensate. I smiled silently and tossed the gifts into a corner. Julian made me honey water and went to the kitchen to cut fruit. I picked up my book to read, but the doorbell rang. I opened the door. The visitor was wrapped up tight, holding a gift box. It was Chloe. 3 “Sister Sarah, the boss asked me to prepare this gift for you. He forgot it at my place.” Chloe handed me the box. Inside was a silk scarf—the same one Julian used to tie her hands today. Hearing the noise, Julian came out of the kitchen. Seeing Chloe, his face went pale. He strode over, blocking the space between Chloe and me. “What are you doing here?” Chloe opened her coat, revealing the lace hem of her dress on her thigh. “Boss, I’m here to deliver the gift.” Julian’s eyes fell on the box. He looked at me in panic. Seeing no anger on my face, he secretly sighed in relief. Julian pushed Chloe’s arm. “You delivered it. You can go now.” Chloe didn’t linger. She gave me a provocative look and left cheerfully. But I knew it wasn’t over. Because Julian started unbuttoning his shirt, his Adam’s apple bobbing—a sign he couldn’t hold back. I suppressed my nausea and went to my room. A moment later, Julian followed with a glass of hot milk. “Babe, drink this and sleep early.” I didn’t refuse. I drank it all in front of him. After he left, I ran to the bathroom and stuck my finger down my throat. I vomited everything up. Julian… drugged me. About an hour later, the bed dipped beside me. Julian carried Chloe in. Chloe’s moans filled the room, accompanied by the sound of tearing clothes. “You’re so bad, taking advantage of me right in front of your wife…” “You little demon, you’re asking for it.” “Aren’t you afraid she’ll wake up?” “I put sleeping pills in her milk. She won’t wake up…” I gripped the sheets, tears soaking my pillow. They were doing this right next to me, so brazenly. When they moved, Chloe’s hair brushed against my cheek. “Brother, you’re a machine.” Julian carried Chloe from the bed to the balcony. For two full hours. Even when Chloe begged for mercy, he didn’t stop. She asked softly, “Brother, who’s better? Your wife or me?” Julian thrust hard, shattering her voice. “You think you can compare to my wife? You’re not worth a single strand of her hair…” “If she wasn’t afraid of pain, do you think I’d touch you?” Julian was always gentle with me. I rarely saw this wild, beastly side of him. Like a monster breaking its seal, eager to tear its prey apart and swallow it whole. In the darkness, I quietly took out my phone and recorded a video. Finally, Julian grabbed his clothes with one hand and carried the naked Chloe out with the other. I opened my eyes, letting the tears flow freely. This would be the last time I ever cried for Julian Sterling. 4 When I woke up, Julian was pruning roses in the garden. A whole field of roses, planted just for me. He never let anyone else touch things I liked. He tended to this garden meticulously. He said, “Loving someone is like raising a flower. Sarah, you are my rose.” Back then, I truly thought I was the happiest woman in the world. But flowers wither, and love fades. Nothing is eternal. I leaned against the door, watching him quietly. Sensing my gaze, Julian stood up smiling, wiped his hands, and walked over to hold my waist. Close enough to hear him breathe. His eyes were full of me. He kissed my forehead. Reverent and gentle. “Babe’s awake. I’ll go make breakfast.” Watching Julian busy in the kitchen, I felt dazed. When we first got together, he couldn’t cook. But I was a picky eater. To help me gain weight, he studied cookbooks and even got a nutritionist license. I remembered him with soot on his face, trying to bake for me. I chuckled softly. Julian looked back at me, his eyes full of love. I looked away. My phone vibrated. I picked up. A clear, pleasant male voice spoke. “Sarah, we’re ready here. When are you coming? We’re all waiting for you.” I thought for a moment. “Tomorrow.” “Tomorrow what?” Julian came out of the kitchen, puzzled. I hung up, smiling faintly. “Tomorrow, I have a surprise for you.” Julian’s eyes lit up. He grinned like a child. “Really? You’re too good to me, wifey.” He tried to kiss me. I dodged smoothly. “Go cook. Don’t be silly.” After eating, Julian washed the dishes and negotiated with me. “Babe, there’s a case at the firm today. I have to go.” I didn’t speak. I just straightened his tie. “Go.” Julian was worried, looking back at me repeatedly. I forced a smile. The door closed. The smile vanished instantly. I knew Julian wouldn’t be back today. It was his dating anniversary with Chloe. Yesterday, he brought back fewer gifts than usual. I went to the bedroom and started packing. Dragging my suitcase, I placed a divorce agreement on the living room sofa. I used to think I would scream and smash everything, making everyone miserable. Now I knew, I didn’t care. I just wanted to leave silently. I didn’t even want to say a word to start a conflict. At the airport, my phone rang. Chloe sent me a picture of the necklace Julian gave her. [He said as long as I like it, he’ll bring the best things in the world to me.] I switched to my alt account and opened the chat with Julian. [Lawyer Sterling, the mistress is showing off the gifts my husband gave her. What should I do?] [I will help you recover all joint marital property.] I packed all the evidence of his cheating and Chloe’s taunts into a file and sent it to him. [Lawyer Sterling, I’m counting on you for the divorce.] Confirming the file was received, I blocked him immediately. Then I pulled out the SIM card and threw it away. As the plane took off, my heart finally settled.

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1 My husband’s childhood friend, Poppy, has always been the innocent, whimsical type. Despite being nearly thirty, she insists she’s just an eight-year-old at heart. She eats from a special baby bowl and drinks from a sippy cup. She even sleeps in a cradle. My husband, Arthur, and his mother enable her completely. They even had a nursery built for her in our home. Then one day, while I was busy cooking in the kitchen, Poppy picked up my one-month-old daughter and threw her onto the hard tile floor. Her tiny skull was fractured, and she died right in front of me, her blood pooling on the white floor. I grabbed a knife and went for Poppy, determined to make her pay for my daughter’s life. But Arthur and his mother stood in my way. “She was just a girl. If she died, she died. Now you can have a second child, a boy this time.” “Poppy is still just a child. Why are you making such a scene?” Why was I making a scene? Because my daughter was dead. My life was over. That night, I broke into Poppy’s room with the knife, but Arthur stopped me. He beat me until I stopped breathing. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in that same morning. Without a second’s hesitation, I called my parents and had them take my daughter to their house. But this time, a child still died. My parents’ car had just pulled away when Poppy’s shrill voice echoed from upstairs. “This is my baby cradle! What gives you the right to sleep in it!” The words were identical to the ones she’d screamed in my previous life. A chill shot down my spine, and I whipped my head around to look up at the second-floor landing. Poppy was standing there, holding an infant in her arms. When she saw me looking, a provocative smirk curled her lips. The next second, she hurled the baby to the floor below. A sickening thud, followed by a short, piercing shriek. Then, silence. A pool of crimson spread instantly from beneath the tiny body, staining the pristine tiles. The image of my own daughter lying in her own blood overlapped with the horror before me. I looked up, my eyes meeting Poppy’s. She stood just a few feet away, showing no fear. Instead, she shot me a triumphant smirk before darting back into her nursery and slamming the door. Arthur and his mother rushed out of the study, their faces draining of all color at the sight. Arthur stumbled forward to look, then collapsed to the floor. “No… not breathing…” His mother took two staggering steps back, her hand clamped over her mouth. I fought down the murderous rage boiling in my chest and walked to Poppy’s door. I hammered on it with my fists. “Poppy, open this door! Get out here right now!” Her petulant voice came from inside. “Baby is sleepy now! Go away! Don’t bother Baby!” “You murdered someone, and you think you can just hide?” My body trembled with fury. I kicked the door, the wood groaning under the force, the whole frame shaking. “What are you doing?!” Arthur scrambled over and grabbed me. “Julia, Poppy is just a child! Don’t take it out on her… She didn’t mean to do it!” Didn’t mean to? I violently threw his hands off me and glared at him, my eyes blazing. It was just like before. Poppy killed our child, and they turned on me, telling me not to blame her. But that was our daughter, a living, breathing human being! As expected, his mother repeated the same chilling words from my past life. “That’s right. What’s done is done. It was only a girl, anyway. If you’re that upset, you and Arthur can just have another one. Maybe you’ll have a son next time.” A son. A cold laugh escaped my lips, my heart turning to ice. Before we were married, Arthur and I had agreed—one child, boy or girl, that was all we wanted. But now… Thank God. Thank God I woke up this morning and sent my daughter away from this house of horrors without a second thought. But as I stared at the coagulating blood on the floor, a terrifying thought slammed into me. If my daughter is safe, then whose child did Poppy just kill? Bang! Bang! Bang! The thought sent me into a frenzy. I kicked the door with brutal, frantic force. The wood splintered and creaked, threatening to shatter. “Poppy! Get your ass out here!” My voice was a raw, terrifying rasp. “You murderer! Stop hiding in there!” “Julia, stop it!” Arthur wrapped his arms around my waist, his grip like iron. I couldn’t break free. “She’s just a child! What if you scare her?” His mother rushed over. “He’s right, Julia! Why are you fighting with a child? Poppy has never been treated harshly in her life. You’re going to terrify her!” “A child?” I stopped struggling and turned to stare at them, my eyes filled with venom. “What kind of child is almost thirty years old?” I pointed a shaking finger at the closed door. “She’s not a child, she’s a murderer! She just killed a baby, snuffed out a life! And you’re standing here defending her?” “Now, that’s not fair,” his mother said, her tone hardening. “Poppy is just innocent. How would she know anything about killing? It must have been an accident. You can’t blame her.” “An accident?” I sneered, the fire in my chest burning hotter. “Intentionally throwing a baby onto the floor is an accident? Are you both insane?” Just then, the door creaked open. Poppy peeked out, her eyes red and her lip trembling as she looked at Arthur and his mother. “Artie… Auntie…” she whimpered, her voice soft and pitiful—a complete one-eighty from the monster who had just committed murder. “She’s a mean lady… She was so loud, she scared Baby… Baby is so scared…” The sight of her broke Arthur’s heart. He instantly let me go and rushed to her side, shielding her with his body. He turned back to me, his eyes filled with fury. “Look what you did! You scared her! She’s always been timid, and you come at her like that!” His mother hurried over, stroking Poppy’s back. “It’s okay, Poppy, don’t be scared. Auntie’s here. No one can hurt you. And you, Julia,” she said, turning to me, “a grown woman acting like this with a child. You should be ashamed of yourself.” Watching them coddle this killer, the rage I’d been suppressing finally exploded. Crack! I slapped Poppy hard across the face. Her crying stopped abruptly. She stared at me, her hand flying to her cheek, completely shocked that I would dare to touch her. “How dare you hit Poppy?” Arthur roared, shoving me to the ground as he rushed to inspect her face. I stumbled back, my eyes locked on Poppy. “I’ll ask you one more time,” I said, my voice dangerously low. “Whose baby is that on the floor? Where did you get it?” Poppy, still stunned from the slap, burst into a wail. “It’s… it’s your daughter…” “My daughter?” My body went rigid, but then a cold calm washed over me. I had watched my parents drive away with my daughter this morning. The child on the floor could not possibly be my Rosie. “It is your daughter!” Poppy stomped her foot, her face a mask of petulant fury. “It’s all her fault for taking my cradle! I’m the only baby in this house! That cradle is mine, and only I get to sleep in it!” So that was it. My rage hit its peak. What baby? This was a twisted, sick adult who, over a piece of furniture, had committed an atrocity against an innocent child. If I hadn’t had a second chance, that would have been my own daughter lying dead on the floor. “Poppy just really loves that cradle,” his mother was saying, still making excuses. “Children are possessive of their things. Besides, she didn’t know it would cause such a big problem.” Arthur nodded in agreement, his tone pleading. “Julia, what’s done is done. Just let it go. Poppy didn’t mean it; she just got confused. We need to handle this quietly. If anyone finds out, Poppy’s reputation will be ruined.” “Her reputation?” I was shaking with fury, the irony of it all burning like acid. “She’s a murderer. What reputation does she have left to protect? Is her reputation more important than a human life?” I couldn’t hold back any longer. I lunged forward, grabbed a handful of Poppy’s hair, and slammed her head against the wall. Thud! The dull impact echoed through the hall. Poppy shrieked in pain. “What baby? You’re a grown woman, do you understand?” I screamed, my eyes red, my grip tightening. “You’re thirty years old! You kill someone, you pay the price! Don’t you get it?!” “Let go of her!” Arthur charged at me, grabbing the back of my collar and flinging me across the room. I landed hard on the cold tile, a searing pain shooting up from my tailbone as my vision swam with black spots. “Poppy is a baby! Are you insane?!” he yelled, pointing at me with disgust and rage, as if I were the monster. I pushed myself up, looking at his contorted face, and felt like I was staring at a complete stranger. “What baby?” I coughed, a trickle of blood escaping the corner of my mouth. My voice was thick with mockery and despair. “She’s a psychopath! And you two are the ones who made her this way!” Struggling, I pulled out my phone and dialed 911. I was calling the police. I was going to have this lunatic locked up. But Arthur lunged, snatched the phone from my hand, and smashed it on the floor. The screen shattered, sending pieces flying. “What are you doing, calling the police?” he hissed, his eyes filled with menace. “You’ll ruin her! Julia, can’t you just be reasonable for once? For the sake of this family, for Poppy, can’t we just let this go?” I clutched my chest, staring at the man who bore no resemblance to the one I married, and a hopeless laugh bubbled up from my throat. In that moment, I finally saw my husband for who he truly was. Without another word, I got to my feet and started walking downstairs. I remembered. I knew whose child it was. I had just reached the first floor when Arthur grabbed my arm. “Julia, it’s settled then. We’re moving past this.” I froze, turning to look at him. He avoided my gaze, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “If you’re really that upset about the girl,” he added, “I promise, we’ll get you pregnant again as soon as possible. We’ll just have another one.” Another one. He spoke of a child’s life so casually, as if it were a misplaced object. My face was a blank mask as I shoved him away. I needed to see the baby, to confirm my suspicion. But my pupils contracted in horror. The spot on the floor where the baby had been was empty. The child was gone. I scrambled over, my hands searching the cold tile. A faint, lingering scent of blood was the only proof that it hadn’t been a hallucination. I shot to my feet and grabbed Arthur by the collar. “Where is the baby? What did you do with the baby?!” His eyes darted away, unable to meet mine. “What baby? Don’t talk nonsense…” “Nonsense?” I almost laughed, but tears were already streaming down my face. “What did you do with the child?!” Just then, the piercing wail of a police siren sliced through the silence. Two uniformed officers appeared at the door, silhouetted against the bright light. “Who called the police?” Arthur’s face went white. He reacted instantly, clamping his hand over my mouth and forcing a stiff smile. “Officers, it’s a misunderstanding! All a misunderstanding! My wife made a mistake, no one called.” His mother came rushing down the stairs. “She’s crazy!” she yelled, pointing at me. “They had a little fight, and she blows it all out of proportion and calls the police. We’re so sorry to have wasted your time.” The officers’ eyes moved between us, their expressions skeptical. But with no body and no other signs of a crime, they treated it as a domestic dispute. After taking a statement, they left. Only when the siren had faded into the distance did Arthur release me. He was breathing heavily, his eyes full of resentment. “Julia, don’t you think I’m upset the child is dead? But you had to make a scene and drag everyone into it. How is Poppy supposed to live her life now?” I looked at the hideous man before me, my voice terrifyingly calm and laced with ice. “Is any of that more important than a human life?” I pushed him away and began to tear the villa apart. Under the sofa, behind the curtains, in the corners of the storage room… I searched everywhere, but there was no trace of the baby. It was as if the child had vanished into thin air. I stumbled out into the yard, my eyes scanning the flowerbeds, the walls. Finally, my gaze fell upon the rusty dog kennel in the corner of the yard. Inside lived two large mastiffs, which were occasionally fed raw meat. My heart began to pound. A terrible premonition seized me. I started walking toward the kennel. “What are you doing?!” his mother shrieked, rushing to block my path and grabbing my arm. “Julia, there’s nothing to see over there! You’ll get bitten!” The more frantic she was, the more certain I became. I coldly shook her off and continued toward the kennel. Before I even got close, a thick, coppery smell hit me, mingling with the stench of rust from the cage. It was nauseating. With a trembling hand, I unlatched the kennel door. In the dim light, a small, tattered piece of clothing lay in the corner. Its edges were soaked through with dark, dried blood. They had fed the child to the dogs. My body was wracked with violent tremors. A raw, guttural scream tore from my throat. “Are you insane?!” But his mother just looked proud, as if her decision had been a stroke of genius. “The baby was already dead. It was just a piece of meat at that point. This way, we didn’t have to dig a grave.” Poppy peeked out from behind her. “You evil woman! It’s your fault for having a brat that tried to steal my cradle! It deserved to be dog food!” Arthur just frowned at her words, then turned to me with a placating tone. “Come on, let’s just put this behind us. I’ll transfer the title of the penthouse to you. Don’t be angry. It was just a baby. We’ll have another one. I’m sure we’ll have a son next time.” The sheer monstrosity of this family made me weak. Black spots danced in my vision, and a crushing pain in my chest made it hard to breathe. I had only one thought left. I needed to know if this child was who I thought it was. “Bring the baby out,” I said, using every last bit of my strength. “We… we have to bury him.” Arthur frowned, looking with disgust at the tattered clothes in the kennel, clearly not wanting to touch them. I almost laughed. “Arthur, that is your nephew!” He took a deep breath, as if making a great sacrifice, and stepped forward. But his mother blocked him, her eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Arthur, she’s tricking you! The second you bring that body out, she’ll call the police and they’ll take Poppy away! Poppy’s life will be ruined!” As she spoke, Poppy started tugging on Arthur’s sleeve, whining and crying. “Artie, don’t listen to her! She’s trying to hurt me! It’s good that baby is dead! He tried to take my things! If you bring him out, I’ll never speak to you again!” Arthur wavered, then took a step back. “Julia, the child is already gone. Let’s not disturb him. Let him rest in peace.” I closed my eyes, suppressing the tidal wave of hatred inside me. “You’re going to regret this.” With that, I turned and walked toward the gate. His mother panicked and lunged, grabbing my wrist. “Where do you think you’re going? I’m telling you, as long as I’m here, you are not calling the police!” She tied my hands together with a piece of rope. I struggled, but it only tightened, drawing blood. I looked at my husband, begging. “Arthur, that was a life. How can you be so heartless?” He looked away, his voice cold. “Just behave yourself, Julia. Stop making trouble.” Seeing me helpless, Poppy rushed forward and slapped me hard across the face. “You think you’re so tough?” she sneered. “You hit me before! Try hitting me now! Hah!” I gritted my teeth, shaking with rage and humiliation, but my hands were bound. “You psychopath!” I screamed. This only encouraged her. She kicked me hard in the back. A sharp pain exploded, and I doubled over, drenched in a cold sweat. Even then, a small part of me hoped Arthur would show a shred of decency and stop this. But he was too busy comforting Poppy. “A baby like Poppy can’t kick that hard,” he said dismissively. “It doesn’t hurt. You scared her earlier. Just let her blow off some steam.” With Arthur’s blessing, Poppy became bolder. She kicked me in the side. “Your daughter deserved to die for trying to steal from me! And you should die too!” I curled into a ball on the ground, the pain overwhelming as my consciousness began to fade. Suddenly, the front gate was kicked open with a tremendous bang. My parents stood there, holding my daughter. Behind them were several police officers. Their faces were grim as my father’s voice boomed across the yard. “What in God’s name are you doing?!”

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I used a photo of my ex-boyfriend as my desktop wallpaper. My advisor saw it and paused. “You know him?” Without thinking, I blurted out, “That’s my boyfriend.” The next day, my advisor enthusiastically invited me over for dinner. When the door opened, I stood face-to-face with Max Jiang. “Son, I brought your girlfriend home.” I looked for a crack in the wall to crawl into. I was the one who dumped him back then… Chapter 1 After submitting my thesis revisions based on my advisor’s feedback, I happily slept the day away. I just woke up when I got a call from my advisor, Professor Zhong. “Can you come over now?” My phone showed seven missed calls. I didn’t dare refuse, so I grabbed my laptop and rushed to his office. The sea of red track changes on my paper made my heart bleed. Professor Zhong kept sighing, and my heart grew colder and colder. While I was zoning out, he accidentally minimized the document. A photo of a guy appeared on the screen. The tenderness in his eyes was palpable. Classic girlfriend POV. I took the photo. The guy was Max Jiang. My ex-boyfriend. I couldn’t bring myself to delete it and had secretly set it as my wallpaper. Professor Zhong paused for two seconds, then casually asked, “You know him?” “I don’t mean anything by it, just heard young people use photos of people they know as wallpaper, got curious.” “Is he your boyfriend?” I was stunned. Because I often used “my boyfriend” as an excuse for not being on campus sometimes. But the professor had never seen him. After a while, he got suspicious. My brain short-circuited, and I rubbed my nose. “Professor… you guessed right.” He gave a meaningful “Oh.” He didn’t react much, but he seemed to become friendlier. The next day on my way to the cafeteria, I got another call from Professor Zhong. His tone was completely different, cheerful and laughing. “Zoe, haven’t eaten yet, right?” I was confused. “No, Professor.” “Your teacher’s wife made a big feast today, come over for dinner?” I slammed on the brakes, almost nose-diving into the roadside bushes. I was terrified. “No thanks, Professor, you guys eat…” “She got up early to buy groceries, she’s been excited all morning. She made chili shrimp, crab cakes, braised ribs…” Great, successfully triggered my appetite. I ignored the weirdness of it all. When a professor invites you warmly, how can a student refuse? Eat first, deal with everything else later. “Professor, send me the address, I’m on my way.” Chapter 2 I stood at the door, and before I even rang the bell, it opened. “Is that Zoe? Come in, come in.” The woman in front of me was beaming. I realized who she was and smiled back. “I’m Zoe Lin, nice to meet you, Mrs. Zhong.” “Just call me Auntie. Who knows, you might need to change that title soon.” She couldn’t stop smiling, but I hesitated, afraid to take a step forward. She took my hand and shouted toward the kitchen. “Zhong Shuwen, go get your son out here.” Huh? Son? The professor’s son is here too? Wait, why are they inviting me to a family dinner? The professor wiped his hands and trotted out. “Okay, honey.” I almost laughed. Didn’t expect Professor Zhong to be henpecked. The next second, the smile froze on my face. The professor bellowed, “Son, I brought your girlfriend home.” “Come out!” Girlfriend? Me? Student turns into daughter-in-law? This can’t be happening! Professor, you can’t just randomly assign a daughter-in-law! Is this my punishment for academic patchwork? But didn’t he know I had a boyfriend… A sudden realization hit me, before I could process it. “What girlfriend?” “I don’t have…” A familiar voice spoke and then stopped abruptly. I saw a profile, and out of reflex, I pulled the hat in my hand back onto my head. I wanted to cry. Who would have thought Professor Zhong’s son’s last name was Jiang? If I’d known, I wouldn’t have been too lazy to wash my hair last night. I didn’t even change clothes earlier. I took off my jacket. I was only wearing a white cotton tee and plaid pants. Now I realized I looked like I was in pajamas. Can I find an excuse to escape? Is there a crack in the wall I can crawl into? My head sank lower and lower. I envied turtles, they could shrink into their shells. The dreaded thing happened. “I was wondering why you kid never wanted to come back. You didn’t even tell me and your mom you were dating. If I hadn’t seen Zoe’s wallpaper yesterday, we’d still be in the dark.” My ears burned. “Wallpaper?” “Yeah, I saw it with my own eyes, you have to treat Zoe well.” Professor, please stop talking. I’m about to lose my dignity. Max tilted his head, raised an eyebrow, and said each word deliberately. “Oh? Zoe Lin, my girlfriend?” Dragging out the strange ending sound. I was the one who unceremoniously dumped him back then. Someone tell me, how do I resolve such an awkward situation? I steeled myself, looked up, and met Max’s narrowed eyes. I greeted him with a dead heart. “Hello, boyfriend, what a coincidence.” My smile must have been ugly, even Mrs. Zhong noticed something was wrong. “You two know each other so well, why are you greeting each other like that?” “Is it too sudden? Don’t be nervous, we’re just too happy, a bit impatient.” I was stunned, seeing Mrs. Zhong’s expectant look. Suddenly I felt this lie couldn’t continue. I took a deep breath, ready to explain. I was pulled into a strong embrace. “Mom, Dad, you scared her.” “I didn’t mean to hide it from you, you guys are just too gossipy.” The professor’s mouth twitched, couldn’t help but instruct. “Zoe is still a student, don’t always take up her time in the future.” I thought about the excuses I made to the professor yesterday and before. I slowly looked up to meet Max’s confused eyes, smiling awkwardly. “Um…” Before I could explain, the professor asked curiously again. “Where did you two go play yesterday, she forgot her phone, and you didn’t help her get it.” I couldn’t hold it in anymore. Professor, why do you believe everything I say? I answered quickly, “Professor, we went hiking yesterday, and had a picnic.” “Picnic? Where? Your mom said she wanted to have a picnic a few days ago.” The smile froze on my face, why is there a follow-up… “At…” My brain searched rapidly. I hate that I usually don’t browse local forums, don’t know anything. Max spoke up and saved me, “Old man, you ask too many questions.” “I’ll take her to wash her hands.” Mrs. Zhong pushed the professor, “Why so many questions, go serve the food.” Chapter 3 In the bathroom, I breathed a sigh of relief and thanked him sincerely. He turned on the faucet to wash his hands, saying nonchalantly. “I didn’t help you, I was helping my dear girlfriend.” I was speechless for a moment, I was indeed in the wrong here. But I absolutely cannot lose momentum in front of my ex-boyfriend. “If I knew you were the professor’s son, I wouldn’t have said it was you.” He paused, his gaze intense. “Then who did you want to say it was?” “I…” Seems there’s no one else to say. He sighed lightly. “If you have a boyfriend, we better explain clearly right now.” I grabbed his clothes, almost kneeling down to him. “Since it already happened, and we can’t break up right now.” “Then please pretend to be my boyfriend a little longer, please please.” I looked up with pitiful eyes. He stared at me for a long time, his Adam’s apple rolling. “I’m not interested in being a stand-in.” I was a bit confused, “What stand-in?” He was nonchalant, “Didn’t you say yesterday you were with your boyfriend?” “I was with my bed yesterday, all day.” He raised his eyebrows, radiating joy all over: “Then I’ll reluctantly agree to you.” “Okay, boyfriend.” He froze for a moment, leaned against the wall and stopped talking. Why did this person suddenly become The Thinker? Why are his ears red too? I didn’t understand, shook my head. Finished washing hands. My eyes fell on the towel rack next to me. Huh, which one did Max use just now? While hesitating, a towel covered my hand. “This one, girlfriend.” “……” Chapter 4 The professor came out of the kitchen. “Eat quickly, don’t let it get cold.” I praised generously, “Auntie, your cooking is really good.” “If it tastes good, eat more, look at you, you’re too skinny.” Mrs. Zhong kept putting food in my bowl, soon piling up into a small mountain. I hurriedly stopped her. “No need, Auntie, it’s really enough.” “I’ll get it myself if I want to eat.” “First time here, inevitably a bit uncomfortable.” “Auntie knows, no need to be polite with Auntie.” The bowl in front of me was even a large bowl. Bigger than my hand. Sighing inwardly. I’m not being polite, Auntie. It’s embarrassing not to finish the food when visiting! I was worried. A chuckle came from beside me. I turned my head slightly, Max was propping his head watching me, corners of his mouth raised. Mrs. Zhong was dissatisfied, “What are you laughing at?” “You’re not putting food in Zoe’s bowl either.” He finally raised his chopsticks. I panicked a bit, what is he doing? Won’t he put food in my bowl too! While staring at the chopsticks, I gave Max a look. The chopsticks turned a corner in mid-air, landed in my bowl. Chopstick by chopstick took away the food in my bowl. Mrs. Zhong asked: “Max, what are you doing?” His expression didn’t change, “First, she doesn’t eat green peppers.” “Second, she has a small stomach, greedy but can’t eat much.” “Your amount will stuff people to death.” My heart missed a beat. What are you doing, acting like you know me so well. We only dated for half a year. Mrs. Zhong suddenly realized, looking at us like shipping a couple. “Zoe, I’m too happy, help yourself.” I smiled, “It’s okay, thanks Auntie.”

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New Year’s Eve. I chased after my sister, Delaney, who’d stormed out of our penthouse after a vicious fight, and ended up dragged into a forgotten alley by a crew of low-lifes. The violation was profound. They didn’t just break me; they inflicted a gut-wrenching, visceral trauma that consumed the next five years of my life. I was left with chronic Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Whenever I tried to end the pain—to cut myself free—Delaney would wrench the blade from my hand and plunge it into herself. I’d make one shallow slice, and she’d make two deep ones. Our blood would mix on the cold tile, and she’d hold me, sobbing against my neck: “Cas! I’m begging you, please, don’t do this to yourself again!” “I’m the reason you’re broken. I swear to you, I will fix this. I will make you whole.” After that night, the Delaney I knew—the reckless, fun-loving race car enthusiast—vanished. She set fire to her prized collection of high-performance bikes and started studying the books she used to scoff at. Five years later, she was Dr. Delaney Ford, a leading psychiatrist in the city. But just as the crushing fog of my illness finally seemed to be lifting, I overheard a conversation drifting from the hallway outside my room: “Miss Ford, you deserve an Oscar for this performance. If I hadn’t been in on it, I’d never guess you hired those guys back then.” “Though I have to ask—to punish your adopted brother for one fight, you’ve spent years using medication to precisely interfere with Young Master Caspian’s recovery, while simultaneously using that sisterly devotion to keep him clinging to life… Isn’t that a little… cruel?” Delaney let out a dismissive, chilling laugh. “Cruel? He deserved it. Who told him to try and hurt Toby like that? This is simply his repayment.” “I’ve got it handled, though. Cas is my brother. I’m just giving him a taste of his own medicine. I wouldn’t actually let him die. I’m not that heartless.” The world dissolved into a sheet of ice. I forgot how to breathe. It was all a performance. Every moment of sacrifice, every tear, every shared scar—it was all her elaborate, cold-blooded punishment. That night, I dragged my shattered body up to the rooftop. Delaney, this time, you won’t have to punish me yourself. … “CASPIAN!” The moment my weight shifted past the edge, a brutal force slammed into me, yanking me back. Delaney tackled me to the concrete, rolling until we were flat on the ground. Before I could even process the disorientation of the fall, a sharp, stinging crack echoed in the night air. Snap. My ear drum vibrated. I clapped a hand to my burning cheek and looked up, staring into my sister’s face. Her eyes were swollen and bloodshot. “Are you out of your mind?! Do you have any idea how close you were to falling?!” “This is all my fault, my failure! If you actually went over that ledge, I would end my life right here to pay you back!” Her chest was heaving; her hands trembled with what looked like genuine terror. My gaze fell on the fresh, bloody tear in the skin of her wrist. She’d gotten that wound just last week, wrestling a box-cutter out of my hand during a psychotic episode. But the words from the hallway echoed louder than her terror. It’s all an act. A sharp ache pierced my nose. I stared at her, the words leaving my lips in a stunned, empty whisper. “Delaney…” “I didn’t want to jump.” “I just wanted you to stay with me a little longer…” The words were out before I could stop them. The panic in her eyes evaporated instantly, replaced by something cold and calculating. A flicker of palpable annoyance crossed her face. After a long pause, she violently flung my wrist away. Her voice was flat and hard. “How many times, Caspian? How many times are we going to do this?” “You know it’s Toby’s birthday party tonight. You deliberately choose these moments to throw a tantrum, finding ways to draw me away. Are you trying to ruin everything for him?” Her grip had been too strong. Five years of trauma had hollowed me out, leaving me barely bone and skin. That violent shove sent me sprawling backward. As my body hit the concrete, the familiar, searing pain shot through my legs. God, it hurts. Tears streamed uncontrollably. I curled into a tight ball, clutching my already deformed, unusable legs. Five years ago, when those thugs were demanding my sister’s whereabouts, my refusal had enraged them. They had systematically crushed my legs, leaving them beyond repair. Memories rushed back, and the monumental injustice choked me. I lay on the ground, sobbing, my body shaking with uncontrollable tremors. Delaney flinched, then quickly reached out to help me up. She pressed her lips together, her tone softening with an uncomfortable forced tenderness. “Don’t cry, Cas. I didn’t mean that. It was just the panic talking.” “I was worried sick. Why else would I bolt the second the butler told me you weren’t in your room?” The lie died in her throat, cut off by the shrill ring of her phone. She glanced at the screen, her hand freezing on my arm, then quickly turned to answer. Toby’s cheerful, mocking voice chirped from the speaker. “Dee! They said you rushed back home just to get me a present? What’s taking so long! The main course is out, everyone’s waiting for you, and it’s my birthday, remember?” She hung up, a flush of embarrassment high on her cheeks. She looked at me, a flash of indecision in her eyes, but before she could speak, the phone rang again. Clutching the phone, she said softly, “Have the housekeeper bring you down later. Stay put. I’ll bring you something amazing from the party.” Then she whirled around, answering the ringing phone as she hurried away. I pushed up onto my elbows, slowly, agonizingly, inching toward the ledge of the roof. The thick, sticky echoes of that night—the jeering laughter, the tearing agony of my body—washed over me again. Five years. I have been trapped in the moment before I turned eighteen, five years ago. I looked at the back of the woman who was leaving without a second thought. I smiled faintly, the tears in my eyes scalding. “No need, Delaney.” The moment she heard my voice and turned, I pushed off the ledge and plummeted into the void. “CAS!!!” The last thing I remembered was her face, contorted in a scream of pure, tearing anguish, and the roar of the wind in my ears. My consciousness faded. I fell into a long, dark dream. In the dream, Delaney Ford was flighty, reckless, and always in trouble. Yet, when our parents died in that accident, this same sister shouldered a monumental burden without a word of complaint. She went from barely being able to boil water to managing a three-course dinner. She was once indifferent to everything, yet because I was frail and sickly, she once climbed a thousand steep steps, leaving her knees bloodied, to beg a reclusive spiritual teacher to bless my life. She learned to be a good sister, clumsy but determined, giving me every scrap of security and preference she had to offer. Even when my father’s illegitimate son, Toby, showed up, demanding a place in the house, she kept him out of fear that I would be lonely—despite the clear, simmering annoyance in her eyes. Toby was a viper. He would raise his hand and slap himself right before she walked into the room, then point at me, tears welling: “Cas hit me…” He would hide his expensive watch in my backpack, then “find it” later, crying about how I’d stolen from him. But even his most convincing act, even his tears accusing me of school bullying, only earned him a cold sneer from Delaney: “Stop acting, Toby.” Then came that New Year’s Eve. We were gathered for a family dinner when Toby suddenly collapsed. The private doctor found a thin, specialized silver needle embedded in the back of his neck. That was the first time Delaney had ever truly screamed at me: “Caspian Ford! I gave you this needle two days ago! What do you have to say for yourself?!” In the ensuing chaos, she overturned the table and bolted. I chased after her, desperate to explain, but that’s when I was dragged into the alley… I fought my way out of the suffocating darkness. My vision swam, but the first thing I heard was Delaney’s low, venomous snarl right by my ear. “Cas-pi-an Ford!” I turned my head, disoriented. Delaney stood by the bed, looking utterly ravaged. Her eyes were red and swollen, and her voice shook with an unnatural intensity. “You’ll go to any length to compete with Toby, won’t you? You knew that ledge had a platform underneath, that you couldn’t actually die! You jumped just to ruin Toby’s birthday, didn’t you?” “Toby is in the room next door, by the way. He heard you jumped and collapsed from shock! Are you satisfied now?” “Haven’t you caused enough trouble over the years?” “If you truly want to die, find a quiet corner. Don’t you dare inconvenience anyone in the process!” I stared at her mouth opening and closing, unable to form a single word. Into the sudden silence, Toby’s phone call came again. “Dee! Is my brother awake? Is he okay? When can we come home?” The moment his voice sounded, all the fury drained from Delaney’s face. “He’s fine. Just acting out, trying to scare us. I’ve had a word with him.” “I’ll throw you an even bigger party in a few days. I’m packing up now. We’re coming home.” She hung up. The warmth vanished from her face. She glared at me, her voice cutting. “You stay here and think about what you did.” “Pull another stunt, and you will never be allowed back in this house.” With a harsh movement, she adjusted my IV line. It was too fast. When she was satisfied, she dropped my arm and stormed out, slamming the door behind her. I strained my neck to look at the syringe of morphine on the counter. Just get the needle. I gently tugged the intravenous line from my hand. Blood spotted the pristine white sheet. I tried to stand but immediately plummeted back down. I could not stand. Footsteps echoed outside. A nurse, perhaps, had heard the thud. I held my breath. Instead, I heard Delaney’s impatient voice down the hall: “His ‘condition’ is fine. He’s just faking. He’s an attention-seeker. Leave him be. The more attention you give him, the worse he gets.” “Toby, the driver is at the door. Let’s go.” The footsteps receded. The door never opened. I stared at the knife on the counter. I stared for a long time, until my eyes were dry and aching. Delaney had grown careless. I knew, from the five years of self-harm, that she would never leave anything dangerous within my reach. I tried to use my arms to pull myself up again, but the fresh agony in my legs, combined with the pain deep inside my body, exploded. My arms buckled, and I crashed back to the floor. It hurt everywhere. If I die, the pain stops. That thought focused me. I scraped my fingers against the ground, inching toward the counter. Glass shards from the IV bottle dug into my palms and knees, leaving a trail of blood, but I felt nothing. Finally, I grasped the handle of the knife. Without a moment’s hesitation, I brought it down across my wrist. A fresh red line erupted across the old, interwoven scars. I suddenly remembered Delaney. She had just as many scars as I did. It must have been the Ford blood. I had never been docile. When I was thrown into that alley, when I was eighteen and on the verge of starting college, I broke. I screamed, I shattered everything, and I pointed the blade at myself again and again. She always took the knife and used it on her own body. Blood would pour out, yet she’d seem numb to the pain, using her clean hand to wipe the tears from my face. I wasn’t crying, but my face was wet with hers. That memory—the fear of her pain—was the only thing that had kept me from hurting myself again. I was afraid of her worry, her guilt, and her tears. I was terrified of her bleeding. It was all a lie. The thugs. The suffering. Even her path to becoming a psychiatrist—it was all a weapon, used to keep my illness a precisely controlled, agonizing loop. The strength left me with the blood. I leaned against the wall, laughing and weeping at the same time. People are usually sad when they’re dying, I suppose. “I didn’t stick the needle… it wasn’t me who stole his things… I wasn’t trying to ruin his party…” My voice faded. The whimpering stopped. I slumped into the pool of blood, my vision tunneling into darkness. Suddenly, the door was violently thrown open. Screams. Rushing footsteps. The pungent smell of antiseptics. I was surrounded by a sea of white. My wound was roughly stitched, and countless needles were jammed into my body, keeping me tethered to life. I heard fragmented pieces of conversation: “Miss Ford is unlucky. I heard she got into a car accident on the way home, and her brother’s condition immediately worsened.” “Don’t remind me. The doctor said he needs a bone marrow donation. Only she and the other brother were a match. But she fainted three times and refused to let the younger one go through it. She said he’s too weak and afraid of pain.” “But Young Master Toby’s condition looks much worse now…” The door burst open again. Someone stumbled toward my bed, and a hand covered my eyes. Delaney’s voice was hoarse with exhaustion. “Cas, don’t worry. This will be over soon.” “Toby is my brother, too. I can’t just watch him…” Before she could finish, a razor-sharp, searing pain erupted from my lower back. I thrashed violently, my lips turning blue. My already tenuous hold on consciousness shattered. I knew. Delaney had made her choice. Again. The doctor extracting the marrow looked at my ashen face and hesitated. “Miss Ford, you’re a doctor… we can’t take any more! The patient is past his limit, he could die!” Delaney was silent, a clear struggle on her face. Just then, a nurse rushed in, sobbing hysterically. “Emergency! Young Master Toby’s heart rate just plummeted! He’s crashing!” “The blood shipment is still twenty minutes out!” All hesitation vanished from Delaney’s face. She gritted her teeth, her voice absolute. “Keep drawing!” She turned to me, her gaze complicated. “Cas, when we get home, I’ll get you the best supplements to recover!” The doctor tried to protest, but she cut him off with a shout. “I said, keep drawing!” “I know Caspian’s body. This is clearly a performance. It’s just cheap theatrics. You focus on your work. Toby is the priority!” She turned abruptly and sprinted toward Toby’s room. … When it was all over, the doctors were immediately pulled away. All the equipment, all the people, all the care—it was poured into Toby’s bedside. No one noticed that I was already dead. Only when Toby’s condition stabilized did Delaney finally relax. She looked at the blood on her clothes. She knew Toby was terrified of blood. She carefully washed her hands, changed into a clean jacket, and then quietly walked into Toby’s room. She fed him, soothed him to sleep, and tucked him into bed. Outside, the night had turned completely dark. She seemed to suddenly remember something. She shot up, hurried down to the hospital cafeteria, grabbed a few random dishes, and rushed to the door of my room. “Cas, look what I brought you.” “All your favorites. Get up and eat, it’s going to get cold.” Silence. The smile froze on her face. She walked closer and placed the meal tray on the nightstand. “Cas?” Still no answer. Her patience snapped. She frowned. “Caspian Ford, it was just a little bone marrow. Are you still sulking and throwing a fit?” “Stop acting and get up!” She reached out and roughly grabbed my wrist—the one with the massive wound—to pull me up. The next second, her movement froze. Her eyes widened. Her face went instantly, devastatingly white.

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When I went to the Marsden house to return the engagement gifts, I found Nathan Marsden lying in the arms of the young housekeeper, a post-coital cigarette dangling from his lips. He blew a playful smoke ring in my face. “Perfect timing. Wendy’s exhausted. Go wash the sheets for us, will you?” “The girl’s a little inexperienced. After the engagement party tonight, you can teach her a few of my favorite positions. I don’t want my nights ruined.” I didn’t answer. I just placed the bag containing the gifts on the coffee table. “Check everything. If it’s all there, let’s call off the engagement.” “I’ll send out a notice to cancel the party.” Nathan finally sat up, but the careless smirk never left his face. “How many times have you tried to scare me with this little act?” “Honey, a man gets tired of sleeping with the same woman. Sleeping with others is just my way of keeping things fresh with you.” “Can’t you try to understand?” He pulled a single rose from the bouquet of ninety-nine he’d bought for the housekeeper and offered it to me. He still thought a single flower and a cheap promise could win me over, just like all the times before. But this time, I shook my head. I was really, truly done with him. 1 When I didn’t move, he simply retracted his hand. He snapped the stem and tucked the rose into Wendy’s hair. “Honey, I promise you’ll be the one and only Mrs. Marsden. This constant jealousy over every little thing is really beneath you.” “Are you putting on such a show because I let Wendy try on your engagement ring?” He pushed Wendy away and stood up, wrapping his arm around my waist and whispering in a placating tone. “The girl has no status. She’ll never get to wear a real wedding ring in her life.” “You need to have the grace of the lady of the house. Just think of it as taking pity on her, letting her have a little fun.” I clutched the hem of my shirt, my heart turning to ice. Nathan’s first “wedding photo,” his first “honeymoon,” even his “first time” in our bed—it was all with Wendy. Every time I broke down and confronted him, he would just pinch my cheek with a look of helpless indulgence. “We’ll have a lifetime to do all those things. Why are you so obsessed with the ‘first’ time?” “So possessive, my little crybaby.” Wendy looped her arm through his, helping him persuade me. “Sophia, Nathan is so good to you. He never lets me wear lipstick or perfume, just so I don’t leave any trace on him that might upset you.” She picked up the bouquet of roses from the table, a blatant challenge in her eyes. “If one rose isn’t enough for you, you can have the rest. Nathan just bought me a rose garden a few days ago. I’m already sick of them.” Nathan cupped Wendy’s face and kissed her. “You’re being so thoughtful today, baby.” “Go get our gear. I’m taking you to the old cornfield. A reward for unlocking a new scene.” After Wendy went into the bedroom, he picked up a scarf and personally tied it around my neck. “It’s cold out. I’ll have the driver take you home.” “Just focus on getting ready for the engagement party tonight. I promise I’ll be there before it starts.” I grabbed his arm. “Don’t go just yet.” Nathan froze for a second, then relaxed. “See? You can’t bear to let me go.” “Let go, sweetheart. I’ll pick up some of your favorite farm-fresh snacks on the way.” “I don’t need them.” I shook my head and pushed a briefcase into his hands. “Before you go, check the prenup.” “So I can release the statement calling off the engagement as soon as possible.” The smile vanished from Nathan’s face. He stared at me, hard, and when he was sure I wasn’t joking, he spoke, his brow furrowed. “You don’t have a job, and your mother’s in the ICU. Her medical bills are five figures a day. Who’s going to support you two without me?” His voice turned cold. “Sophia, I’ve really spoiled you rotten all these years.” His words should have made me laugh, but my eyes stung with tears. I didn’t have a job because, in the first year of his startup, he had begged me on his knees to be a homemaker, to be the foundation that supported his career. The reason my mother was in a coma was because she had taken a knife for him from a business rival. I swallowed the sharp, stabbing pain in my heart and looked down, my voice flat. “I have my own ways of handling the money. I just… I don’t want to live like this anymore.” Nathan was about to say something else, but Wendy came bouncing out of the room. “Nate, let’s go! I was just practicing a new, difficult position in there. If we wait too long, I’ll lose the mood.” “You little vixen. Whatever you say.” Nathan swept her into his arms, playfully tapping her nose. But when he looked at me, his eyes were filled with displeasure. “Do whatever you want. Let off some steam.” “I’m not going to take your angry words seriously.” “But I will be stopping your mother’s medical payments for a few days. If you don’t get a taste of how hard it is to earn a living, you’ll never understand what I do for you.” With that, he turned and left, Wendy wrapped in his arms. As I watched them go, my breath caught, a bitter taste spreading through my mouth. I took out my phone and sent a cancellation notice to all our friends and family. Then, I made a call. “Mr. Peterson, you once said that if I took the overseas position, you would cover my mother’s medical expenses.” “I’ve made my decision. When do I leave?” “The sooner, the better. We can have you on a plane tomorrow.” I agreed and immediately went to the hospital to arrange for my mother’s transfer. When I walked into her room, I found her awake. “Mom!” Overjoyed and shocked, I rushed to her and hugged her tightly, my voice choking with sobs. My mother cried too, squeezing my hand. “I’m okay, sweetheart. Is Nate treating you well?” “As long as you two are happy, taking a little stab for him was worth it.” Seeing the hopeful look in her eyes, I slowly lowered my head. I didn’t know how to tell her that Nathan was cheating on me with our housekeeper and that I had called off the engagement. As I struggled for words, a familiar voice came from the doorway. “Mom, I’m here to see you!” Nathan walked in, followed by his assistant carrying boxes of expensive supplements, practically filling the room. “You woke up just in time. Sophia and I have our engagement party tonight. You have to be there, Mother-in-law.” He draped his arm around my shoulders intimately, as if nothing had happened between us. A wave of nausea washed over me, but I didn’t say anything. My mom was beaming. She pointed to Nathan’s neck and winked at me. “It’s good that you two are so close, but you need to take it easy. Nate has a lot of work to do.” I looked up and saw a clear bite mark on his neck. We had been living apart for six months. It was obvious who had left it there. Nathan’s face stiffened for a moment before he quickly recovered, his eyes full of adoration for me. “What can I say? I’m completely whipped. I love it when Sophia gets clingy. Don’t you worry about a thing, Mom.” My mother looked relieved and content. “As long as you two are happy, I can rest easy. Now go, get ready for your party.” I forced a smile and nodded. The moment we were out of the room, I slapped him, hard. My eyes were full of scorn. “Putting on such a good show for my mother. Aren’t you tired?” A red mark quickly appeared on his face. His eyelashes trembled, but he said nothing. Still furious, I raised my hand again, but he held up his phone. “This is Dr. Evans’s contact information. He’s a top internal medicine specialist. I was going to schedule a comprehensive check-up for Mom.” My hand froze in mid-air. As if drained of all strength, I slowly lowered it. I closed my eyes, an overwhelming exhaustion washing over me. I turned to leave. But Nathan wrapped his arms around my waist from behind, resting his chin on my shoulder. “Let me lean on you for a minute, honey. My stomach suddenly hurts.” I felt a strange sense of deja vu. When we first started dating, a client was giving me a hard time at a business dinner. Nathan chugged a whole bottle of hard liquor to defend me. The client never bothered me again, but Nathan ended up in the hospital with a bleeding ulcer, a problem that still plagued him. “It was wrong of Wendy to leave a mark on my neck. I’ll have a word with her.” “I was wrong, too. Usually, after a date, I’d shower for three hours before seeing you. I was just so happy to hear that Mom was awake that I didn’t even look in the mirror.” I turned to look at him. His eyes were red, pleading, like a guilty puppy. “If you’re still not happy, I’ll make myself clean right now.” With that, he picked up a fruit knife and aimed it at the red mark on his neck. He was actually going to cut that piece of flesh out! It wasn’t until I saw the blood that I snapped out of it. I lunged forward and knocked the knife to the floor. “Are you crazy? That’s your neck! What if you seriously hurt yourself?” The blood was flowing freely now. Terrified, I tried to pull him toward the emergency room. But he just smiled, a happy, triumphant smile. “Sophia, you do still care about me.” “Now, go get ready for the engagement party. Do it for Mom.” I clenched my fists, then abruptly let them go. Finally, I heard my own strained voice. “Okay.” Nathan spared no expense, booking the most luxurious hotel in the city for a million-dollar engagement party. My mother, wanting to witness my happiness, insisted on attending in her wheelchair, despite my protests. I stood on the stage, lightly holding Nathan’s arm. He sensed my distance and forcefully intertwined his fingers with mine. The guests below looked on with envy. “So many men ditch their wives after they make it big. Mr. Marsden is still so devoted to his original partner. Mrs. Marsden really bet on the right horse.” “Just a few hours ago, the future Mrs. Marsden sent us a cancellation notice. I wonder what that was all about.” “Just a little lover’s spat. Only a guy like Mr. Marsden would put up with it. If my wife tried to pull a stunt like that, I’d have to teach her a lesson!” Their words were like needles, piercing my heart. Nathan had slept with Wendy countless times over the years, yet he could still act concerned and loving toward me without batting an eye. His calmness only made me look like the crazy one. Just then, a server rushed onto the stage and snatched the microphone. The moment she took off her mask, I realized it was Wendy. Tears streamed down her face. “I’m the one Nathan truly loves! If it weren’t for Sophia using the fact that her mother saved his life, we would have been married long ago!” My mind went blank. I instinctively looked at my mother. She was staring at Wendy in shock, her body trembling uncontrollably. “Mom!” I gathered my dress and ran to her side, screaming at the staff. “Call 911! Now!” When Nathan finally reacted, his eyes burned with fury. “Wendy, are you tired of living? You’re just a housekeeper in my home! Get the hell off this stage!” But Wendy pulled out a pregnancy test, kneeling before my mother and me. “But I’m carrying Nathan’s child.”

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After my boyfriend, Mark, and I broke up, he pretended to have amnesia. He asked, “Who are you?” I froze for a moment, then smiled. “I’m your sister-in-law.” Mark was stunned. That night, his brother, who had been trying to break us up, frantically messaged me: [What the hell! When did I get together with you?!] [Mark is blocking my door with a knife!] 1 When I arrived at the hospital, Mark was lying in bed. His head was wrapped in gauze, looking the part. He looked at me with confusion and bewilderment, asking: “Who are you?” I froze for a moment, then smiled. I tugged at my collar, revealing a red mark on my neck. “I’m your sister-in-law.” The hospital room door was closed. His brother was standing outside, waiting for me and Mark to break up. When I received the news of Mark’s car accident and hospitalization, I was with his brother. Liam looked at me with a half-smile, waving a five-million-dollar check in his hand. “Miss Sullivan, no one can predict the future between you and Mark.” “But your own future will be smooth sailing from this moment on.” Mark and I had been dating for two years, and he had always kept his family background a secret. Until recently, when I was working part-time and ran into Mark. He was out having fun with friends, staying in a presidential suite that cost five thousand a night. When settling the bill, I just stood at the front desk watching him quietly. Not bitter, not tired. Mark bumped into me head-on. His expression was a bit awkward. “I didn’t dare tell you before, because I was afraid you’d feel pressured being with me.” Me: “…” I pointed at myself in disbelief. Me? Do I look like someone with that much self-respect? If you had told me you were rich earlier, you wouldn’t have had to chase me for over a year. No one knew about my relationship with Mark. That day, his friends saw us, and somehow it reached the ears of the Sterling family. I also met the head of the Sterling family, Mark’s older brother, Liam Sterling. The two brothers looked about 70% alike. When Liam looked down at me, the oppressive and heavy aura made me tremble all over. Liam wanted me to break up with Mark. Last night, he sent me a video. In the video, he and Mark were sitting opposite each other. Compared to the youthful Mark, his brother was obviously more mature and steady. Liam spoke slowly, every word hitting the mark. “I heard you met Chloe Sullivan when you were broke. You chased her for a long time. She had a bad temper, but once she knew your identity, she suddenly became submissive to you.” His implication was obvious. Gold digger, hypocritical, compromising for money. Mark hurriedly replied: “She’s not that kind of person!” His tone was impetuous, lacking confidence. He was just eager to defend. Actually, Mark didn’t quite believe what he said himself. Compared to an old fox like Liam, Mark was still a bit green. Seeing Mark take the bait, Liam couldn’t help but smile. “Really? Then why not put on a show together? You pretend to have amnesia from a car accident and ignore her, see how she reacts.” The video ended there. Now this scene left no doubt. Mark chose to cooperate. 2 The expression on Mark’s face changed again and again, as if buffering from overload. “Want an apple? Sister-in-law will peel one for you.” Five million dollars is indeed tempting. But you brothers playing me for a fool really pisses me off. Hearing the term “sister-in-law,” Mark’s face turned green with anger. He opened his mouth as if to question something, but held back at the last moment. He still had to maintain his amnesia persona. Breaking character now would undoubtedly be shooting himself in the foot. He pretended to be calm, but tears uncontrollably welled up in his eyes, and his voice choked a bit. “My… my brother seems to be single.” I smiled and waved my hand. “You have amnesia, it’s normal not to remember your brother has a girlfriend.” Mark pressed his temples hard, saying anxiously: “I seem to vaguely remember something.” I took out his medical report printed in black and white, forcing him to look. “The doctor said there’s no risk of regaining memory.” Mark clutched the medical report tightly, veins popping on the back of his hand. I placed the peeled apple on his bedside table. Before leaving, I didn’t forget to pat his head. “Since you can forget, it must mean those memories were insignificant to you. Look forward from now on.” “I’m going to get a room with your brother… I mean… I’m going to dinner with your brother. Rest well, we’ll visit you when we’re done.” I waved at him and walked out of the ward smiling. As soon as I closed the door, a kettle-whistle-like wail erupted from the room. Liam was unaware of the conversation inside. He turned to look at me, his gaze softening, as if pleased with my sensibility. On the way here, Liam had been guiding me. “Since Mark is willing to act in this play, it shows he doesn’t trust you in his heart. The cracks in the relationship can’t be repaired, they’ll only get bigger. Your attempts to salvage it are meaningless.” “Instead of a hysterical breakup at the end, it’s better to take the five million now and disappear with dignity.” Liam knew how to hit a person’s pain points. I shoved my bank card at him. “I don’t want to go to the bank with a check. Have someone transfer the money to this card.” Liam nodded and handed the check and card to his assistant to handle. When I came out of the ward, the assistant had already processed it. My phone also popped up a deposit notification a few minutes ago. When Liam handed the bank card to me, he was completely unaware— Someone was pressed against the door of the ward behind him. Through the glass on the door, Mark stared fixedly at the card in Liam’s hand. Due to the angle, he couldn’t see what the card looked like. Because of my words in the ward, he naturally assumed it was a room key card. Mark’s face was gloomy, veins pulsing on his forehead. When I took the card, I even ambiguously touched Liam’s hand. “Thanks.” I put the card in my bag and turned to leave. Liam looked down at where I had touched, his fingertips curling slightly unconsciously. As soon as I turned the corner and disappeared, Mark jumped out of the ward immediately. A person who was critically injured and dying just a moment ago was now pinning Liam to the ground and beating him like a mad dog. “Liam, you old beast! Give me back my girlfriend!” Liam: “?” 3 The hospital was in chaos. Liam was knocked unconscious by a punch. Mark sat aside, crying breathlessly. I squatted in the corner watching the drama for a long time before leaving reluctantly. I went on a shopping spree with the five million until dark before going home. As soon as I got out of the elevator, I saw Liam standing at my door like a ghost. He was full of resentment. Liam’s face was black and blue, showing no trace of his previous calm and leisurely appearance. Liam was furious. “Chloe! Go explain clearly to Mark!” I opened the door and entered, asking innocently: “Explain what?” Liam frowned, disgusted with me. “You know very well, stop playing dumb with me!” “Mark said I stole his girlfriend! Said I made him fake amnesia just to make it easier for you to cut ties with him! Now he’s blocking my door with a knife like a mad dog!” I hummed a tune, turning a deaf ear to Liam’s words. I spread the things I bought in the afternoon on the bed. In an instant, the bed was full of lingerie that couldn’t be shown in public. I held the skimpiest white lace nightgown against myself and showed it to Liam. “Will I look good in this?” Liam’s face looked even worse. He turned his head away, refusing to look at me directly, speaking through gritted teeth. “Only a blind man like Mark would like you.” “I’d rather be single for life than be with a vicious woman like you.” Just as he finished speaking, a knock came from the door. “Chloe, are you home?” The moment he heard Mark’s voice, Liam felt terrible. He looked at the door as if facing a formidable enemy. Seeing me about to open the door, he hurriedly stopped me. “Don’t open it!” Mark already misunderstood that we had an affair. Seeing him at my house in the middle of the night would be impossible to explain. I rolled my eyes speechlessly. “Since he called my name directly, it means he knows I’m home. If I don’t open the door now, won’t it seem weirder?” I took his hand and led him to the wardrobe. “Why don’t you hide in here for a while.” Liam: “…” His expression was a bit desperate. But thinking carefully, there seemed to be no other way. He took a deep breath and reluctantly crawled into the wardrobe. I turned to open the door for Mark. Mark stood outside the door with his tall figure. His head was drooping, and the corners of his eyes were still red. I raised my hand to touch his face and asked: “Why are you crying?” The tears accumulated in Mark’s eyes could no longer be held back. Warm tears fell on the back of my hand. The grievance was like a floodgate opening, unstoppable. The amnesia thing was agreed upon by himself, and pretending not to know me was also said by himself. Now, no matter what grievance he had, he had to swallow it. “My brother won’t let me go home, kicked me out, I have nowhere to go.” Hiding in the wardrobe, Liam, who had been chased all afternoon: “…” Mark held my hand and nuzzled his face in my palm. “Sister-in-law, can you take me in for a night? I can sleep on the sofa, I won’t cause trouble.” I nodded understandingly. “Of course.” Liam: “?!” Mark changed shoes and entered the house. He looked up and saw the skimpy lingerie on the bed. His expression became ferocious for a moment. I followed his gaze and explained shyly: “Your brother bought them, said to celebrate tonight…” My voice stopped abruptly, as if realizing I had said too much. With a somewhat shy expression, I complained in a low voice: “Your brother always buys these useless things, won’t listen no matter what I say.” Liam hid in the wardrobe without saying a word, just looking at the ceiling speechlessly. Looking like he wanted to have a hearty battle with the clothes rail above. I gathered those few pieces of lingerie, opened the wardrobe door, and threw them in. That white lace nightgown floated lightly onto Liam’s face. The moment I opened the wardrobe door, Liam died a little inside. He clasped his hands together at me, looking helpless and begging. Mark stood by the wardrobe, talking to me through the narrow wardrobe door. “Will my brother come back tonight?” I shook my head: “I don’t know either. Why don’t you call and ask him?” Liam’s expression was full of horror. Mark nodded thoughtfully. He took out his phone and dialed Liam’s number. The next second, Liam’s phone rang inside the wardrobe… Mark’s eyes narrowed slightly, staring dangerously at the wardrobe. “Sister-in-law, my brother’s phone seems to be ringing.” “Can I look in the wardrobe?” 4 I raised my hand before Mark and closed the wardrobe. “Your brother left his phone at home. If it’s urgent, why not call his assistant first.” Liam breathed a sigh of relief, as if he had walked through the gates of hell, covered in cold sweat. The more he thought about it, the more he regretted it. If he hadn’t hidden in the first place, there would still be a chance to explain. Now suddenly coming out of the wardrobe, Mark wouldn’t believe anything he said. Liam hated me so much his teeth itched. He messaged me frantically. [Make Mark leave quickly!] [Make him leave! Make him leave now!] [Chloe, you vicious woman, I won’t let you off when I get out!] [You want to drive a wedge between us brothers, right? Hehe, it’s useless.] [Chloe, you will pay for what you did today!] I glanced at the phone with a fake smile, then turned to the wardrobe again. “Mark, do you want to change into pajamas?” Liam’s face was livid, his heart in his throat. [Sorry, I spoke without thinking just now, don’t take it to heart.] [Don’t open the wardrobe door again, I beg you.] [Chloe, do you want to ruin our family?] The phone kept ringing. I frowned impatiently and replied. [Brother, you’re a bit noisy, I’m setting do not disturb.] [Chloe!!] When Liam sent this message, my phone didn’t make any notification sound. Liam’s face was ashen. He had no choice but to transfer money to my card. The SMS notification of the bank transfer sounded like heavenly music in my ears. I walked away from the wardrobe with kindness. I took a new set of men’s pajamas from a shopping bag on the side and handed it to Mark. “I suddenly remembered I bought a new set this afternoon, you should wear this one.” Mark glanced thoughtfully at the wardrobe and whispered thank you to me. “Sister-in-law, I don’t want to sow discord, I just think my brother seems irresponsible. Leaving his girlfriend alone at home so late, going out without his phone, as if afraid you’ll check up on him. Who knows what he’s doing outside in the middle of the night.” “If I had a girlfriend, I definitely wouldn’t treat her like that. I would definitely report to her all the time so she wouldn’t be uneasy.” “Sister-in-law, your ex-boyfriend must have done that too, right?” Mark secretly peeked at me, the little thoughts in his eyes unable to be held back. Sitting on the edge of the bed, hearing him mention “ex-boyfriend,” my expression became trance-like for a moment. I looked up at him, then quickly looked away. My eyes were slightly red, but I forced a relaxed smile. “My ex-boyfriend was indeed very attentive, I felt very safe with him.” Mark instinctively wanted to wipe my tears. Hand raised halfway, he realized his identity was different from before. Doing so was inappropriate. He lowered his hand stiffly and asked hoarsely: “Since your ex-boyfriend was so good, why did you break up with him?” Mark stared at me with teary eyes, insisting on hearing my answer. I wiped the tears from my face and said: “He was good, but I wasn’t good enough. I couldn’t make him trust me wholeheartedly, couldn’t give him a sense of security.” “When he was with me, he always held back, even tried his best to hide many things from me. Being with me, he would be in pain. Separating might be the best choice for us.” Mark turned his head away, his voice choked and trembling. “If… if he came back to find you, would you still be with him?” I hesitated for a moment, then smiled with relief. “Forget it. I hope he meets a good girl who makes him let down his guard. I hope he’s happy.” Mark could no longer hold back his tears. He turned his back to me, sobbing until his shoulders trembled. I asked knowingly. “What’s wrong?” Mark shook his head. “My rhinitis is acting up, it’s nothing.” He wiped his tears indiscriminately and said: “It’s late, sister-in-law, go to sleep early.” Mark picked up the blanket beside him and walked to the living room. I turned off the light and went back to bed. Liam made sure Mark had gone far before coming out of the wardrobe. Mark was in the living room. Liam couldn’t stay or leave. Liam’s face was extremely ugly. He locked the bedroom door, then came over and shook me awake. Liam grabbed my wrist and pulled me up from the bed. Too many things happened today. Before today, Liam never thought anyone would dare punch him in the face, and for stealing love at that. And the person who hit him was his own brother. Liam laughed in extreme anger. “Chloe, had enough fun?” Liam used a lot of strength, my wrist hurt from his grip. “You’re hurting me.” Liam glared at me with a fake smile. “You should be glad I didn’t kill you.” Liam’s tone was too fierce. I looked at him pitifully, tears falling uncooperatively. “Liam Sterling, is it because in your eyes, a motherless child like me is particularly easy to bully? People around me say orphans like me won’t have anyone stand up for them even if bullied to death.” “You forbid me to like Mark, forbid me to date him, forbid me to get angry or lose my temper, and now you hurt me, and you forbid me to even complain.” Liam frowned tightly, uncomfortable with my crying. He let go and saw my wrist was red from his pinch. I murmured: “I clearly didn’t want anything. I just wanted a small home, wanted someone to like me, wanted someone to protect me.” Liam stood silently with a gloomy face. He sighed helplessly and sat on the edge of the bed as if resigning to fate. He couldn’t stand seeing me cry anymore and quickly changed the subject. “Does your wrist hurt badly? Need to go to the hospital?” I shook my head. “Just rub it and it’ll be fine.” Liam sighed deeply and reached out to rub my swollen wrist. “It hurts… be gentle.” Liam frowned, as if annoyed by my fussiness. “How about this? Better?” I nodded: “You can go deeper.” Liam: “…That’s called pressing harder.” When I wanted to say something dirty again, Liam interrupted me impatiently. “Shut up, bear it even if it hurts! You deserve it!” After speaking, seeing me looking at him dully, he realized his words were too harsh. He awkwardly compensated: “It’s my first time doing this kind of thing. It’s inevitable not to do it well. Bear with me.” I nodded. “As long as you’re enjoying yourself, I’ll bear with it.” Liam’s frown never relaxed. He felt my words were very wrong, but thinking about it carefully, they seemed to make sense. Correcting every word would make him seem too petty. Liam simply stopped thinking about it and concentrated on treating the injury on my wrist. He turned his back to the bedroom door. The light seeping in from under the door was half blocked by someone else’s shadow. Mark stared at the closed and locked door in front of him, silent for a long time. My and Liam’s voices faintly reached his ears through the door panel. The cigarette between Mark’s fingers had burned out, the scarlet fire scorching his skin red, but he was unaware. After a long time, Mark came back to his senses. He revealed a bitter smile and murmured in a low voice: “What right do I have to be jealous?” “It’s the path I chose myself, who can I blame…”

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My husband was celebrating another woman’s birthday. The despair had hollowed me out, leaving me standing on the edge of the penthouse balcony. Just as I prepared to step over the railing, a torrent of text—a frantic, unsolicited Live Feed—flashed across my vision. [DON’T YOU DARE, SIS! That dog of a man will be on his knees for you soon!] [If you die now, you’ll miss the whole damn show where he regrets everything!] [Don’t believe us? Two minutes. He’s going to text you to run a bath and wait up for him!] I stood there, paralyzed by the sheer audacity of the words. A split-second later, my phone vibrated in my hand. Gavin: On my way home. Run a bath for me, will you? The text was there. Exactly two minutes later. I believed. This wasn’t a hallucination; it was a divine, chaotic intervention sent to teach me how to win my life back. So, following the bizarre instructions of The Feed, I adjusted the subtle, suggestive bruise on my neck—a deliberately ambiguous red mark—and braced myself to greet my late-returning husband. 1 The sound of the lock turning in the door was my cue. I took a deep, steadying breath and opened the door. Gavin Caldwell was standing there, his arms wrapped around a heavily intoxicated Gwen Foster. The air around him was thick with expensive cologne and stale alcohol. His brow was furrowed in his usual, preemptive scowl, ready with his standard excuse. “She had too much, I was just—” “I actually have to go out tonight.” I cut him off before his practiced denial could fully form, my voice as soft and inviting as a spring tide. He froze. I stepped aside, offering him a pleasant smile. “Just get her settled. Take a shower and get some rest when you’re done. Don’t worry about the house; the cleaning crew will handle it tomorrow.” This stream of cooperative, not-a-tear-in-sight, utterly accommodating dialogue stunned him into silence. Gavin’s gaze finally pulled away from his confusion and landed on me. For the first time in months, he looked at me like I was a stranger he was assessing. I was wearing a sleek black silk slip dress, which subtly defined curves I hadn’t let him see in years, and his eyes snagged immediately on the glaring red mark high on my neck. His face darkened instantly. “What is that on your neck?!” Gavin’s voice held a rare, shaky tremor. I instinctively reached up to cover it, feigning a fleeting moment of panic. “It’s nothing, probably… a mosquito bite?” Without waiting to see the full fury on his face, I grabbed my clutch from the sofa, clicked my heels, and walked straight past him. “Where in God’s name are you going?!” His voice, tight with suppressed rage, exploded behind me. I didn’t turn back, leaving him only with the image of my confident, swaying silhouette. Outside, the cool night air sent a shiver down my spine. I leaned against the exterior wall, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm. “Feed,” I whispered to the empty air, “was that… was that right?” Instantly, the dense lines of text swarmed around me again. [YES! Absolutely! You are the QUEEN!] [Did you see the look on that dog’s face? I’m living for this!] [You were too much of a good girl before, Helena! He thought you were his permanent fixture!] [Remember: Good women get a nice headstone; bad women get everything!] I thought of Gavin’s stunned, disbelieving fury—a sign of engagement and attention I hadn’t received from him in ages. I felt a rush of adrenaline. I believed The Feed more than ever. [You need to commit to the bit! Sis, go to a nightclub! Let him spin out trying to find you!] A nightclub? I was naturally reserved; I barely dared to raise my voice. But The Feed was relentless, a hundred invisible hands pushing me forward. The deafening music, the flashing, dizzying lights, the writhing mass of people on the dance floor. I perched awkwardly in a corner, nursing a single drink for ages without taking a sip. [Don’t be shy, Queen! You’re gorgeous! Own it!] [Get up! Feel the rhythm! Release the demon!] Fueled by the chaotic energy of The Feed and the atmosphere, I found myself, almost involuntarily, stepping onto the dance floor. My movements were stiff at first, but slowly, I let the music consume me. For the first time, I realized how exhilarating dancing could be. When I was finally exhausted, I returned to the booth and picked up my phone, which I’d silenced. The screen blazed with: Missed Calls (27) Gavin Caldwell. My husband, who had been emotionally distant for an entire year, had called me twenty-seven times? 2 After a year of me being the one desperately trying to reach him, the sight of those missed calls was deeply satisfying. [Ignore him! Let him stew! He needs to know what it’s like to be cut off!] I dutifully slipped the phone back into my bag, a sly smile creeping onto my face. Honey, I thought, it’s not that I don’t want to call you back. It’s that I need to make you… fall in love with me again. You’ll understand, right? I stayed out all night. I returned to the apartment the next morning, exhausted and faintly nauseous from the lingering scent of alcohol. The living room light was on. Gavin was slumped on the sofa, his eyes bloodshot, an overflowing ashtray at his feet. Seeing me, he bolted toward me, grabbing my wrist with a desperate urgency. His voice was hoarse. “Where were you?!” I caught the cloying, residual scent of Gwen’s perfume on his shirt. When I remained silent, his face contorted in disbelief. “This isn’t like you! You never stay out all night!” I lifted my eyes and blinked innocently. “What’s the big deal about staying out late?” “Gavin, we’re adults. Doesn’t everyone need their own life?” My retort silenced him instantly. The bloodshot eyes, for the first time, held a foreign mix of confusion and a flicker of genuine panic. “Isn’t that what you always used to tell me?” I tilted my head, smiling sweetly. “You said you were busy. You said you had obligations. You said… adults always need their own space.” I tossed his own dismissive, well-worn phrases right back at him. My heart was racing, my palms sweating from the sheer tension of the performance. [Steady, Queen! Don’t break character! You are now the Empress Helena Barrett!] [Yes! Fight fire with fire! So satisfying!] The Feed provided an infinite well of nerve. Just then, the master bedroom door clicked open. Gwen Foster, swathed in an oversized silk robe, rubbed her sleepy eyes and strolled out, radiating a lazy, practiced sensuality. That robe was my favorite one. In the past, this sight would have sent me into a jealous frenzy, ready to claw her eyes out. [The mistress is here! High drama alert! Remember, whoever loses their temper first, loses the game!] I took a deep breath. Calmness was my greatest weapon. Gwen feigned surprise upon seeing me, covering her mouth with a hand, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness. “Oh, Helena! You’re back! I’m so sorry, I drank too much last night, and Gavin was worried I’d ruin my dress, so he just… he just grabbed one of your robes. You don’t mind, do you?” Gavin’s face was awkward and tight. “Her clothes were stained. I just grabbed the first thing.” “Mind?” I laughed, walking directly up to Gwen. My tone was full of reproach, but directed pointedly at Gavin. “Gavin, how could you give Gwen one of my old, worn-out things? That’s so thoughtless.” I took Gwen’s hand and, with startling affection, led her toward my walk-in closet. Under the astonished gaze of both of them, I pulled a brand-new, never-worn silk slip dress from the closet and pressed it into her hands. “This one’s new; it hasn’t even been worn. The color will look stunning on you. Go put it on, darling. It’s perfect.” [HOLY CRAP! That is next-level queen behavior! Psychological warfare!] [Gwen’s face is GREEN! She tried to provoke you, and you treated her like she was picking up discards!] I ignored their petrified expressions, returned to the bedroom to change into a crisp, business-ready pantsuit, and picked up my bag. Passing through the living room, I stopped at the hallway safe and removed a small velvet box. “Where are you going?! And what is that?!” 3 Gavin finally snapped out of his shock and grabbed my wrist. I gently, but firmly, pulled my hand away and opened the box. Inside, nestled on the satin lining, was a brilliant sapphire jewelry set. “Oh, this?” I picked it up, my tone intimate, laced with playful complaint. “The ‘Azure Heart,’ remember? The one you spent eight million at auction for the year we got married? The same set… you wanted to give Gwen but never did.” Gavin’s pupils contracted sharply. I looked at Gwen with a faux-apologetic expression. “I’m sorry, Gwen, it’s not that I’m stingy. It’s just that Mrs. Sinclair, the wife of the CEO of Sinclair Holdings—the massive account Caldwell Industries is chasing—saw this set a few days ago. I’m meeting Mrs. Sinclair for afternoon tea today. I’m giving her this as a gift to finalize the partnership.” “Are you insane?!” Gavin’s voice trembled with disbelief. “You know how much you cherished this set! You wouldn’t even let me touch it back then!” “I’ve had a change of heart,” I looked at him earnestly, my gaze clear. “It’s just jewelry. It’s been sitting there gathering dust. It should be used to achieve greater value, don’t you think?” I smiled, closed the box, and patted his shoulder. “You two enjoy your time at home. I’m leaving.” I clicked my heels and walked out without looking back. As I got into my car and closed the door, I held the velvet box to my chest, and a sharp, familiar pain pinched my heart. After all, this was once my most treasured proof of his love. Giving it away, no matter the reason, hurt. [Don’t be sad, sis! You have to risk the bait to catch the whale!] [Closing the Sinclair deal means at least fifty million in profit for Caldwell Industries! You’re a shareholder! You’re getting paid!] [Think bigger! You traded his tainted jewelry for money and power! Most importantly, he will see you in a completely new light!] I looked at The Feed, took a deep breath, and nodded firmly. The Feed was right. I needed to think bigger. Sacrificing a material object for a massive business advantage was absolutely worth it. When I presented “The Azure Heart” to Mrs. Sinclair, the look of unbridled delight in her eyes was all the assurance I needed. Predictably, the partnership between Sinclair Holdings and Caldwell Industries was swiftly finalized, and I was personally named the lead project liaison by Mrs. Sinclair herself. The following days were a whirlwind. I plunged back into the corporate world I had abandoned three years ago, absorbing everything like a sponge. Meetings, reports, corporate dinners… my schedule was packed tight. [Go, Queen! Let him see how utterly captivating you are when you focus on your career!] [That’s right! Ignore him! Men only slow down your money flow!] 4 The Live Feed was my unwavering support system. I could feel Gavin’s eyes constantly lingering on me, filled with curiosity and a complex emotion I couldn’t quite decipher. But I had no time to respond. Firstly, The Feed forbade it; secondly, I was genuinely too busy. The night of the massive celebration gala, as the project lead, I was required to attend with Gavin. I changed into a champagne-colored mermaid gown, which perfectly sculpted my slender figure. When I stepped out, Gavin was leaning against the wall, waiting. The moment he saw me, his breath visibly hitched, and his eyes held a look of undisguised admiration. I felt a surge of secret satisfaction but kept my face cool. I merely asked, “Shall we go?” His Adam’s apple bobbed. He silently stepped forward and opened the door for me. Just as we were about to leave, a syrupy voice chirped from the side. “Gavin, darling, Helena! Where are you two off to?” Gwen materialized seemingly out of nowhere, holding a glass of deep violet juice. She took a theatrical stumble and lunged straight toward me! The icy liquid splattered across my champagne dress, instantly spreading a large, glaring stain. “Oh! I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry, Helena!” Gwen shrieked in manufactured distress, tears instantly welling up. “I didn’t mean to… I just slipped… What are we going to do? Tonight’s gala is so important. You can’t go without a dress. We can’t let Gavin go alone, can we?” She was apologizing, but every word carried a clear implication. Gavin’s initial surprise turned into a hesitant look as he saw my ruined dress. After a few seconds of silence, he actually spoke. “Maybe… Helena, you should go home and change. We’re running out of time. I can take Gwen to the venue for now.” [NO! ABSOLUTELY NOT!] [The audacity of this man! Can he really not see through that manipulative witch?!] [If you obey, Queen, all your efforts will be for nothing! He will immediately revert to treating you like the pitiful, disposable wife you used to be!] I looked up at Gavin’s hesitant, yet somehow entitled, expression. Without a moment of hesitation, I swung my hand and delivered a clean, sharp slap across his face. “Snap!” The loud crack echoed through the marble entryway. Gavin’s head jerked to the side. He stared at me in stunned disbelief. “She’s immature, but you, Gavin? You should know better.” My voice was icy. Then I turned to Gwen, who was still mid-act, covering her mouth, a triumphant glint in her eyes. “Snap! Snap!” I backhanded her twice, the force sending her sprawling onto the floor, momentarily stunned.

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My father-in-law passed away, and my mother-in-law, a woman hopelessly obsessed with a fairytale romance, took his entire inheritance and began showering it on her high school sweetheart. He told her he wouldn’t leave his wife until she gave him a child. But my mother-in-law, Brenda, couldn’t conceive. So, she did the unthinkable: she secretly swapped my and my husband’s IVF embryo with one of her own. I carried the child for ten months. The day I gave birth, her old flame dropped dead of a heart attack. Brenda was devastated. Later, when our baby needed a blood transfusion, tests revealed the baby’s blood type didn’t match my husband’s. Brenda turned on me, accusing me of cheating and plastering the story all over social media. My husband, David, consumed by disappointment, divorced me. I was cyberbullied, isolated, and lost my job. To hide her secret forever, Brenda smothered the infant and framed me for the murder. With no one to believe me, I chose to prove my innocence the only way I had left. I jumped from a building. It was only after I died that I learned the other, more terrifying truth. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Brenda swapped the embryos. This time, I swapped them right back. And this time, I would calmly give birth to my child and wait for Brenda to light her own funeral pyre. 1 “This is amazing, honey! The clinic just called—the transfer was a success! I’m finally going to be a father! A father to a son!” Watching David’s eyes well up with tears of joy, I stood frozen. I was back. I had been reborn, sent back to a time before the tragedy unfolded. My body still ached with the phantom pain of hitting the concrete, a brutal reminder that my previous life had been no nightmare. It was real. David noticed my silence and misinterpreted it. He thought I was having second thoughts about the pregnancy, since it would mean pausing my career as a live-streamer. He tried to soothe me. “Jenna, I know your influencer career brings in more money than my job, but you’re always so public, you know? People talk. Why don’t you just quit?” “Don’t worry,” he continued, “I’ll have my mom take care of you. And every penny I earn will go toward your health and the baby’s.” In my last life, those words had moved me to tears. I’d agreed instantly, quitting my job to become a full-time mom. I had no idea that the baby growing inside me wasn’t mine at all. It was the IVF baby of my mother-in-law and her married high school flame. After my father-in-law died, Brenda claimed she was holding onto the inheritance for our future child. In reality, she was spending every last cent on Arthur, the man she’d pined for her whole life. She bought him cars and watches, desperately trying to replace his wife. But Arthur wanted a child, something Brenda could no longer give him. So, she turned her sights on me. On this exact day in my previous life, David and I had gone to the clinic, completely oblivious. After the successful transfer, Brenda doted on me, and I was filled with gratitude. I even covered for her when she was constantly out of the house. I never imagined that the ten months of pain and discomfort I endured were for another woman’s scheme. After I gave birth, Arthur died unexpectedly of a heart attack. Brenda, still determined to have David and me raise her child, kept the secret, even pushing us to get the baby a birth certificate. The truth only came out at the one-month celebration when the baby had a small accident. The blood type didn’t match David’s. Terrified of the scandal, Brenda immediately pointed the finger at me, accusing me of having an affair. But the baby wasn’t biologically mine, either. Back then, the idea that Brenda could do something so monstrous was inconceivable. I had no way to prove my innocence. A paternity test confirmed David was not the father. His disappointment curdled into rage. He slapped me across the face and demanded a divorce. My pleas were useless; he refused to believe me. Brenda posted a video of our fight online, cementing my reputation as an adulteress. My former agency cut all ties with me. I had no income, only the constant barrage of hate from strangers online and the scorn of neighbors and relatives in person. As the scandal grew and David wanted nothing to do with the child, Brenda panicked. Fearing the truth would come out, she quietly smothered the baby in its crib and framed me for the murder. I was sentenced to ten years in prison. In my despair, I took my own life. My spirit floated free, and I watched Brenda clinging to Arthur’s tombstone, her sobs echoing through the cemetery. It was then that I heard her confess everything, wailing about how unfair her life was. “You left me all alone, Arthur! I don’t want to live anymore either!” My soul trembled with rage. Her pathetic, love-sick fantasy had cost me everything. Did I deserve to suffer the consequences of her obsession? Thinking of how she had systematically destroyed me, I knew one thing for certain. This time, she would pay. If she loved drama so much, I would give her a performance she’d never forget. 2 This time, I didn’t foolishly quit my job. I applied for maternity leave, with plans to work for the first few months of the pregnancy. David was annoyed. “Either you get your mom to give us the inheritance money now,” I said coolly, “or we’re not discussing my job.” “What’s that supposed to mean? Mom already said she’s saving it for us.” I didn’t expose her lie. I wanted David to find that out for himself. “That’s my condition. Go ask your mother.” When we arrived at the clinic, Brenda was just walking out. A flash of guilt crossed her face before she replaced it with a warm, motherly smile. “Oh, there you are! I’ve been waiting forever!” I just smiled back. Before they wheeled me into the procedure room, I asked the doctor to run a final check on my embryo. When he saw the discrepancy, the color drained from his face. “It’s okay,” I whispered to him. “Just swap them back. This stays between us.” The doctor, immensely grateful, promised to keep it a secret from my family. As for the other vial, I tucked it into my purse. I spent a week recovering, letting Brenda and David wait on me hand and foot. I made sure to be as demanding as possible. “I’m craving the pot roast from that place on the east side.” David grabbed his car keys. “I’ll go get it!” Then, to Brenda: “I can’t just eat meat. I need some fruit. Mom, could you run downstairs and buy some?” Brenda, already sweating from running up and down the hospital floors, dutifully went. The pregnant woman in the bed next to me watched with envy. “Your husband and mother-in-law are so good to you!” I smirked. “It’s the least they can do.” Once I was discharged, I made a special pot of soup for Brenda. She sniffed it, wrinkling her nose. “This smells a bit off. Is the meat bad?” I leaned against David and started to cry. “Does… does Mom not like my cooking?” I stroked my belly dramatically. “Oh, little one, I hope Mommy’s bad mood isn’t affecting you.” Hearing that, Brenda grabbed the bowl and chugged the entire thing down. Not long after, she was clutching her stomach and running for the bathroom. She made the trip half a dozen times, finally emerging with her legs trembling. “What on earth was in that soup?” she asked, her voice shaky. I glanced at the empty hospital vial in the trash can and simply smiled. With the baby as my leverage, David and Brenda were wrapped around my finger. Five months into my pregnancy, I started my official maternity leave. A few days later, I got a call from my boss. She told me my husband, David, had submitted a resignation letter on my behalf. My boss knew I hadn’t planned to quit, so she called to confirm before processing the paperwork. The glass I was holding slipped from my hand and shattered on the floor. I quickly assured her it was a mistake and that I fully intended to return to work. Relieved, she wished me well with the rest of my pregnancy. After hanging up, I was seething. That night, I confronted David. He looked guilty. “I was just worried you were overworking yourself.” “Did you get the money from your mom yet?” I pressed. He stammered, “Mom said… she said it’s in a long-term deposit. She can’t take it out right now.” That was it. I snapped. In a fit of rage, I flipped the dining table over. “I don’t care! If you don’t get that money back, you can forget about having a peaceful life!” David threw his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay! I’ll go! Just be careful! The baby!” Later that night, I woke up and overheard him talking with Brenda in the living room. “The money just isn’t accessible right now!” Brenda insisted. “But Mom, Jenna’s going crazy! That baby is our family’s last hope!” Brenda sounded completely confident. “Don’t worry. Once that baby is born, she won’t be able to cause any trouble at all.” Of course. She still thought the baby in my belly was hers. She was just waiting for the birth to unleash her storm of lies.

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I transmigrated into the role of the vicious villainess, while my entire family gained the ability to hear the protagonist’s inner thoughts. According to the script, I was supposed to deliberately trip while walking upstairs with my sister, then accuse her of pushing me. Sure enough, as I followed Sarah up the stairs, my body moved against my will. I stumbled and tumbled down the steps. My parents and brother watched with bated breath, waiting to see if I would say exactly what my sister’s inner voice had predicted. Instead, I simply stood up, dusted myself off, and said calmly: “Sorry about that. I skipped breakfast, must be low blood sugar.” Chapter 1 I transmigrated into a novel as Chloe, the adopted daughter of the wealthy Blackwell family. Because I have rare Rh-null blood—”Golden Blood”—I was kept in the family primarily to serve as a mobile blood bank for my older brother, Ethan. Not long ago, the protagonist of this world, the true daughter of the Blackwells, Sarah, was found and brought home. Except for me, the designated villainess, everyone in the family can hear Sarah’s inner thoughts. According to the plot, I am supposed to repeatedly frame her and bully her in front of our parents, trying to make them hate her. However, relying on her “God’s eye view” provided by the plot, Sarah predicts my actions and words every time, causing the Blackwells to completely lose trust in me. On Sarah’s first day home, Mom asked me to show her the room prepared upstairs. I recalled the plot. Right now, the family should be hearing Sarah’s internal monologue and waiting to see if reality aligns with her thoughts. I wanted to break the script, but my body betrayed me. I was forced to hurl myself down the stairs. The moment I rolled onto the floor landing, I saw the disappointment in the eyes of my parents and Ethan. They were waiting for my accusation. No one moved to help me. I could only clutch my waist, stand up on my own, and say awkwardly: “Sorry, skipped breakfast. Just a bit of low blood sugar.” Sarah looked at me in shock. “Weren’t you going to say I pushed you? That you didn’t know why I did it, but begged Mom and Dad not to be angry at me?” My parents and Ethan looked at me with scrutiny. I leaned against the wall, feigning weakness, and retorted, “Do you have a persecution complex? I told you, I have low blood sugar.” Then, I looked at Ethan with puppy-dog eyes. “Sorry, Ethan. I’ll take better care of my health so I’m ready if you need me.” Hearing this, Ethan and my parents immediately softened and rushed over to support me. Chapter 2 Eighteen years ago, their daughter Sarah was kidnapped. The couple was devastated. To alleviate their grief, they adopted me from the orphanage because I shared the same rare blood type. For eighteen years, they raised me with care, like their own. But it was transactional. I was groomed to serve Blackwell Enterprises and to bleed for Ethan. Ethan is a professional race car driver. Every time he crashes—which is often—I am the one on the operating table next to him. Because of this, he treats me like a real sister. Mom took my hand gently. “Chloe, your health really isn’t great. From now on, take the large master suite on the first floor. No stairs.” In the original plot, Sarah had just returned, and the house wasn’t ready. The original Chloe, trying to act magnanimous, offered her room to Sarah and insisted on sleeping in the utility room to play the victim. Before I could speak, Sarah’s inner voice started ranting: She’s definitely going to refuse. She’ll say she’s an outsider and insist on living in the utility closet to make us feel guilty. Hearing this, the family looked at me awkwardly. I immediately hugged Mom, beaming. “Mom, you’re the best! I love you! I’ll take the downstairs room. It’s easier to get around, and I’ll be closer to Ethan in case he needs anything.” My parents and Ethan all lived on the first floor. Now, I was joining them, leaving Sarah alone upstairs. She looked at me like I was an alien. I wasn’t following the script. She grabbed my arm. “Weren’t you going to refuse? Weren’t you going to demand the utility room? Why did you change your mind?” She couldn’t understand why I wasn’t reciting my lines. I had realized a loophole. When a key plot point triggers, my actions are controlled, but my speech is entirely my own. “Which ear heard me say I wanted a utility room? Why would I sleep in a closet when there’s a perfectly good suite available?” Everyone looked at Sarah strangely. Unable to handle the pressure, she shoved me. Chapter 3 “No! You aren’t even a Blackwell! Why do you get to live my life for eighteen years and then take the biggest room when I return? You’re humiliating me! Why did you even bring me back?” She screamed at everyone, venting years of grievance. But her kidnapping had nothing to do with me. I was adopted later. Ethan helped me up, glaring at Sarah. “Don’t push your luck. You shove people whenever you lose your temper. Where are your manners? I bet you pushed Chloe down the stairs earlier, too!” Sarah, having grown up rough, cursed back at Ethan. My father, headache throbbing, slammed his hand on the table. “Enough!” “Chloe needs to recover, she stays downstairs. Sarah, the entire second floor is yours. Renovate it however you want. Is that fair?” Ethan scoffed. Mom wiped her tears. Sarah, realizing she got an entire floor—triple the size of my room—fell silent. Soon, renovations began. My room just needed furniture moved, but Sarah’s second floor was a massive project. Walk-in closet, gaming room, private study, ensuite bath. The noise was unbearable for half a month. With the room settled, Mom gave Sarah a black card for her allowance. “Sarah, Chloe and Ethan get an allowance of $250,000 a year. To make up for the eighteen years we missed, there is $5 million on this card. Spend it however you like.” Sarah rejected the card coldly. “Lost family time can’t be bought with money. I don’t want it.” Ethan, scrolling on his phone, sneered. “Stop acting high and mighty. If she doesn’t want it, give it to Chloe.” Triggered, Sarah’s inner voice flared up: Give it to her. Go ahead. You think Chloe is a good person? Soon, she’s going to sabotage Ethan’s car before the championship. When he crashes and is dying, she’ll use the ‘blood donation’ act to secure your trust forever. Once she gets the inheritance, she’ll kick you all to the curb to beg on the streets. Hearing this, Ethan hesitated. My parents looked at me with sudden suspicion. Chapter 4 I calmly took out my own debit card—the one Mom gave me previously—and handed it to Sarah. “You said I took your place for eighteen years. You won’t take Mom and Dad’s money, but will you take mine? It’s technically yours anyway.” Sarah glared at me and snatched the card. “It is mine. You should have returned it long ago.” Seeing this, the suspicion in my parents’ eyes faded. Ethan, realizing he almost fell for the inner voice’s paranoia, felt guilty. He pulled out his own black card. “Chloe, don’t worry about her. If you need money, use mine. We can share.” I smiled and accepted it. Why did the original Chloe want to harm a brother who was so biased toward her? Being a wealthy salted fish (slacker) is the dream. Why stir up trouble? Later, Mom took Sarah and me to the luxury mall. According to the plot, I was supposed to act helpful, picking out clothes for Sarah, only to plant a stolen item in her bag to frame her as we left. The plot triggered. My body moved on its own. I slipped an expensive watch into Sarah’s bag. I wanted to take it to the counter to pay, but my muscles were frozen. I couldn’t move toward the register. Sarah noticed my odd behavior and thought: Chloe looks down on me for growing up poor. She’s planting stolen goods to frame me as a thief. Mom noticed my weird expression and got suspicious. Sarah suddenly grabbed her bag. “Let’s go!” She dragged Mom and me toward the exit. The anti-theft sensors screamed. Mom looked at me in disbelief. The store clerks blocked us. “Please wait. Is there unpaid merchandise in your bags?” I was sweating bullets, heart pounding. Sarah looked at me triumphantly. “I don’t know. Why don’t you check our bags?” They checked hers first. Sure enough, they found the expensive watch in a hidden pocket. Mom looked shocked. Her hand trembled as she pointed at the watch. “That watch isn’t…” The clerk interrupted her coldly. Chapter 5 “Apologies, this watch isn’t from our store. Here.” The clerk handed it back. Sarah’s eyes bulged. Wasn’t this the stolen item? Then they checked my bag. They found a diamond brooch. It turned out I was the thief. The clerk looked stern. “Miss, this is theft. We can call the police.” I lowered my head in shame. Mom stepped in to save me. “I’m sorry, she hasn’t been feeling well lately. She must have forgotten. We can afford anything here; she has no reason to steal.” We were VIPs here. The staff knew the Blackwells wouldn’t steal a measly brooch. “Of course, Miss Chloe must have been distracted. I’ll ring it up now,” the clerk said, smoothing things over. Just as it was resolving, Sarah blocked the clerk. “She stole it on purpose! She wanted to plant it on me but got confused and left it in her own bag! Don’t let her fool you!” The clerk looked awkwardly at Mom. Mom pulled Sarah back. “Stop it, Sarah.” Sarah wouldn’t let go. She pulled the watch (with the tag still on) from her bag. “Look! She must have stolen this from another store and put it in my bag!” The onlookers began to whisper. Two wealthy daughters stealing? Scandalous. Mom snapped. “Enough!” I started crying. “I’m sorry, Mom. I stole the brooch. I didn’t have money, I just wanted to give Sarah a gift.” Sarah and Mom remembered I had given Sarah my card that morning. I was broke. Sarah scoffed. “Nice try, Chloe. If the brooch was a gift, what about the watch? Were you trying to frame me with that?” Mom finally lost it and slapped the screaming Sarah. “Shut up! That watch was the birthday gift we gave Chloe last year! She never wore it because it was too precious. She put it in your bag because she wanted to give it to you! How can you think so vilely of your sister?” Sarah looked at me, stunned. She threw the watch on the floor and ran away crying. Actually, I had brought the watch from home. I knew my body would force me to “steal,” so I prepared a backup plan. If I had to be a thief, I’d rather take the blame myself than let the plot ruin me completely. Back home, Mom and Ethan didn’t blame me. They felt guilty. They secretly gave me the $5 million card Sarah had rejected earlier. “Chloe, never steal again. Use this.” I accepted it happily. $5 million! I’m rich!

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Julian Reed and I were childhood sweethearts. I had a stepfather, and he had a stepmother. We depended on each other as we grew up. He said he liked to wander, so I wandered with him. I thought we would be together forever. Until, in that dilapidated rental apartment, I saw Julian shirtless with my own eyes, bending down to pick up another woman’s underwear. I asked him why. He didn’t answer, just told the woman to get dressed and leave. After a long time, he said he wanted freedom. And I was his biggest lack of freedom. The day he left, I gave him a kite. I said, “I wish you freedom.” 1 I had imagined the scene of my reunion with Julian countless times. But I never expected it to happen under these circumstances. The hospital called me using Julian’s phone, saying he had been in a car accident and asked if I could come. Only then did I learn that Julian had returned to the city at some point. In the bustling metropolis, the streets were still busy even in the early hours of the morning. I rushed to the hospital, asked for Julian’s bed number, and hurried over. In a not-so-spacious single room, a woman with a good figure stood by the bed with her back to me, her tone coquettish: “Julian, I was the first to rush over to visit you. Aren’t I good to you?” “Yeah, you’re the best to me.” The familiar voice rang out. I stood frozen on the spot, blinking, and withdrew the hand that was about to push the door open. Julian and I hadn’t been in touch for a few years. The breakup was heart-wrenching back then, but time has always been a healing medicine. Now when I think of him, my emotions rarely fluctuate. But hearing that familiar voice suddenly, I realized that maybe it wasn’t that I didn’t love him anymore, but that the feelings were too heavy, forcibly sealed away by me. I didn’t dare enter the ward. I asked the nurse for Julian’s hospitalization number and paid his fees. After leaving the hospital, I parked my car on the roadside and smoked for a long time. I had been a good student and a good girl since childhood. Smoking was the only bad habit I inherited from Julian, learned only after breaking up with him. Work pressure has increased over the years, and so has my addiction to smoking. After finishing half a pack, my mind wasn’t any clearer. Instead, I choked on the last puff and coughed violently. How pathetic. I leaned against the steering wheel and smiled bitterly. Logically, I should have appeared in front of Julian looking glamorous, saying “Long time no see” casually. But I didn’t even dare to look at him with my own eyes. Just hearing his voice made me flee in panic. Maybe I am a bit cheap, loving nothing more than offering my sincere heart to be trampled on. 2 I secretly visited Julian a few more times later and asked his attending physician about his condition. Julian’s ward was lively. No matter when I went, there was always someone by his bed, men or women, chattering away. This was expected. Julian had been popular since childhood. Wherever he went, people would soon gather around him in a circle. He had always been the center of attention. The last time I went to the attending physician, the doctor rubbed his temples with a headache: “Actually, the patient in Bed 2 isn’t seriously injured, just a minor fracture and a mild concussion. He’s recovering very well. “I know you care about him, but can you send a representative to ask about his condition? Otherwise, I have to repeat the same thing five, six, seven, eight times a day. Isn’t it affecting other patients’ families consulting about conditions?” I didn’t dare say I wasn’t actually a family member, so I could only apologize repeatedly and back out of the doctor’s office. Then I made eye contact with Julian, who was walking in the corridor. Three people were with him: one holding the IV drip, one supporting his arm, and another following leisurely. It looked quite like stars surrounding the moon. I also heard Julian say with disdain: “I’m injured, not crippled. Can you let go of me? I can walk by myself!” As soon as he finished speaking, he saw me. I only hated that the hospital corridor was too wide, leaving my panic and awkwardness nowhere to hide. Standing there for a while, I finally spoke first: “Long time no see.” “Julian, who’s this?” Julian looked at me, his expression indifferent: “Someone from my hometown.” “Looking so affectionate, I thought it was your ex-girlfriend.” Julian and I had depended on each other for over twenty years. I wore his only down jacket; he wore my only scarf. We shared a plate of egg fried rice and slept under the same quilt. Now, we were just people from the same hometown. I clutched my phone tightly and turned to leave. Julian stopped me: “Wait.” He asked if I had paid his hospitalization fees. “I saw the call log with you on my phone. The hospital called you, right?” Julian said. “Are you still using that bank card? I’ll transfer it directly to you.” “No need.” I refused. “If anything, I should transfer money to you.” Julian paused. “I spent so much of your money back then, I feel quite embarrassed. Give me a card number, I’ll pay you back.” Hearing this, Julian’s friend laughed: “Thinking of paying back after so many years? So insincere? How much interest do you plan to give?” Julian glared at that person, his expression cold. “Ignore him.” Julian said, “No need to pay back.” I scratched my head and said, “I have to pay it back.” I never had a psychological burden using Julian’s money before. I accepted everything he bought me as a matter of course. At that time, I felt we were family. His money was mine, and when I made money later, it would naturally be his. But since we’ve separated, financial dealings should be settled clearly. 3 Julian didn’t give me his card number, but I still went to the bank to print a statement. The next day, I gathered my courage and went to the hospital with the bank card. But Julian’s ward was empty. Actually, I knew Julian wouldn’t accept it. I just wanted an excuse to see him again. But he didn’t leave me a single chance. Once he discovered my presence, he vanished without a trace. Sometimes I couldn’t help wondering what I did wrong. I never threw tantrums or made scenes with him. Just how much did he hate me to avoid me like the plague? “Compared to manipulative scumbag women, men actually hate submissive love-brains more. Like a plaster you can’t shake off, clingy and disgusting.” In the bar, my friend downed her cocktail in one gulp and poked my forehead: “Talking about you, love-brain! “Sometimes I really want to dissect your brain to see its structure. How can you be so devoted and unrepentant to a man rotten to the core!” I held my glass and refuted her seriously: “First, I’m not a love-brain. Except for Julian, I’ve never loved another man in my life. Second, Julian isn’t a rotten person. He’s especially good.” My friend rolled her eyes in disgust: “Seriously, I thought after so many years you’d at least sober up a bit. Didn’t expect you haven’t changed at all. Hopeless. Suggest burying you alive.” I smiled and stopped refuting her. Every friend of mine has scolded me for not being clear-headed. I also explained to every friend that I’m not unclear-headed; I know exactly what I’m doing. I’m not a love-brain. Julian was really, really good to me before. “Every love-brain says that. But look at what Julian did? Cheated, two-timed, hooked up with another woman in your rented apartment, blocked your number. You begged him to reconcile, waited at the bar entrance for a whole week, and he didn’t even show his face.” “You don’t understand. Without Julian, not only would I not have gone to college, I wouldn’t even be alive today.” I downed half a bottle of wine. My alcohol tolerance has grown over the years, but mixing red, white, and beer tonight made me a bit tipsy. I lay on the bar counter, pulling my friend’s arm and pointing at the male dancers dancing hotly in the center of the dance floor: “My tuition and living expenses for four years of college were earned by Julian dancing night after night like that. “He could earn six thousand a month back then. Five hundred for rent, five hundred for living expenses, and the rest was spent on me. “He actually got into college, but my parents didn’t want to pay for my education. Julian said, anyway, the college he got into wasn’t good, so he wouldn’t study. He went to work to support me. “After college graduation, my parents wanted me to marry someone for the dowry. Julian borrowed from all his friends to gather the dowry money. “So I am Julian’s wife. He paid the dowry; I’m going to marry him.” The music was still noisy, but my friend seemed drunk, lying beside me without a word. I was quiet for a long time, then said: “So, actually, it’s normal for Julian to want to leave. I, this burden, dragged him down for too long.” 4 My friend was drunk unconscious. I downed the last half bottle of wine and scanned the code to pay. When I stood up, my gaze accidentally swept across the bar entrance, and my pupils dilated instantly. It was Julian! He wore a low-key black hoodie and a mask, but I still recognized him at a glance. He didn’t see me and walked straight to a lively booth. Someone cleared the center seat for him to sit. I saw Julian take off his mask and casually accept a beer handed to him. A young woman leaned close to Julian with a smile, saying something to him. Julian nodded absently, responding casually. Before, I never got jealous. I was too certain. I felt nothing and no one could separate Julian and me. I knew Julian’s charm clearly, but was also incredibly confident in his loyalty to me. When did it start? The fact that Julian didn’t love me anymore. I still remember after Julian said he wanted to break up, he never returned to the rental apartment. I went to the bar where he worked to find him, called every friend of his, even ran to their homes asking if they knew where Julian went. I sent him many messages, wanting to ask what went wrong with our relationship, if we could talk properly, and I would change whatever needed changing. I said I didn’t mind him playing with other girls, asked him not to be angry. Later, I only worried about his safety. I said he didn’t need to reply to me, just reply once to let me know he was safe. Finally, I really had no choice. At 3 AM at the bar entrance, I sat on the steps cold all over, holding the phone with both hands, typing the message word by word with stiff fingers. [I agree to break up. Go home, let’s deal with the apartment.] Ten minutes later, Julian appeared beside me. So he had been there all along. Standing not too near nor too far, looking at me coldly. At that moment, I felt as if I had never known him. Julian rented that apartment. He said he would leave soon and had prepaid three months’ rent. I could continue to live there or discuss ending the lease with the landlord. He left very decisively. When leaving, he just carried a black backpack containing his wallet and ID. He took nothing else. I walked him downstairs, still wearing the couple pajamas we bought together at the wholesale market. I handed him a small kite charm and said with a smile, “I wish you freedom.” Julian, do you feel free enough now?

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