Category: English

fter I finally found my long-lost younger brother, something was off. He had a completely different personality. When I slapped him, he didn’t fawn over me anymore. He even tried to hit me back. Furious, I slapped him twice more across the face. “You ungrateful little brat! Who do you think you are?” As I was hitting him, a text stream appeared in the air before my eyes: [LMAO. The rebellious young master just ran away from his billionaire brother’s mansion. He was living his best stray life, about to join a gang, and then he gets kidnapped by the heroine and dragged home.] [One slap shattered his gangster dreams.] [Seriously though, the heroine needs to get her face blindness checked.] [Her actual poor brother is probably still starving somewhere.] Me: “?” 1 What? I got the wrong brother? I squinted, looking closely at the boy in front of me. He was clutching his face, glaring at me with eyes full of grievance and hatred. It seemed… maybe… possibly… I did get the wrong kid. After all, if I hit my real brother, he’d never look at me with hate. He’d just hug my hand with starry eyes and say, “Sis, your hand smells like vanilla. Hit me again, I didn’t get a good whiff.” Damn it. It’s all because of my severe prosopagnosia (face blindness). My adorable little brother must be huddled somewhere, waiting for me to find him. Thinking of this, I got angry again. “If you aren’t my brother, why did you come home with me?!” “I could have found him by now!” The boy stiffened his neck, about to yell back, but then he seemed to remember something and shut his mouth tight. The floating text updated: [Haha, sis, seriously? You literally dragged him home by force. He was screaming ‘You aren’t my sister! I don’t know you!’ the whole way. You just weren’t listening.] [And now the poor kid is too scared to speak because he thinks you’ll slap him again.] I felt a pang of guilt. Oh. So he was telling the truth. I thought he was just being a brat. But there was no time to argue. My real brother was waiting! I had to go find him. And dump this kid back on the street. Suddenly, my phone rang. “Hello.” I answered impatiently. A deep, magnetic male voice came from the other end. “Hello.” Damn. It was a hot guy voice! I immediately switched to my sweet, customer-service voice. “Hi there, may I ask who is calling?” The man paused. “Do you know a boy named Yu-Yu? He claims to be your brother. My own brother ran away recently, and I have a bit of face blindness… I think I grabbed the wrong kid. I’m very sorry. Send me your address, I’ll bring him over.” The text stream floated by: [LMAO. Two face-blind people crashed into each other and swapped brothers.] [What are the odds? The face-blind sis kidnaps the billionaire’s brother, and the billionaire kidnaps the face-blind sis’s brother.] [The billionaire’s brother really got the short end of the stick. The sis’s brother is eating a five-star meal at a mansion right now, while the young master just ate a couple of slaps.] 2 I started to panic. Crap. That kid is a billionaire heir’s brother. If he goes home and tattles that I beat him up… They’ll bulldoze my crappy rental apartment. They might even hire someone to beat me up. I imagined a scene: Me surrounded by men in black suits holding iron bars. The kid, standing next to a tall, cold man, hands on his hips, looking smug. “Brother, let them hit her! Hit her hard!” Terrifying. No. I can’t let that happen! “Ahem.” I forced a gentle smile and reached out to pat the boy’s head. “Little brother, big sis didn’t mean to—” Before I could touch him, he screeched like a goose about to be slaughtered. “Don’t! Don’t touch me! Just wait until I get home! I’ll have my brother destroy you!” I’m dead. So dead. Okay, the “gentle and reasonable” approach failed. I instantly dropped the smile. I grabbed a handful of his hair, my voice turning icy. “Well, no point playing nice then.” “Listen to me. If you dare say a single word about this when you get home, I will camp outside your mansion. Every time I see you, I will beat you.” My voice got lower and more menacing with every word. The boy turned pale and started shaking like a leaf. The text stream: [Is she threatening a child? She’s evil.] [Don’t feel too bad. This kid is a bully. He uses his brother’s status to terrorize scholarship students at school. He’s a nightmare.] [Does his brother not care?] [His brother runs a conglomerate. He’s busy. Plus, their parents died young. The brother feels guilty leaving the kid alone, so he spoils him. He gets called to school constantly, but he can’t bring himself to hit the kid, and scolding doesn’t work.] [Recently, the kid watched some action movies and decided to run away to join a gang. His brother was frantic looking for him.] [But even if he takes him back, he can’t really discipline him. The kid just throws a tantrum, cries about being an orphan, and the brother caves.] [So, honestly? He deserved those slaps.] I was enjoying the gossip when the doorbell rang. 3 I opened the door. A figure launched into my arms, sobbing. “Sis!” Even though his face looked blurry to me, I knew him instantly. This was my adorable brother! My heart melted. I hugged him back. “It’s okay, it’s okay. You’re back.” “Hello. Sorry to interrupt.” I looked up. Standing outside the door was a man. Tall, composed, aloof. Even backlit by the hallway light, his handsome, sharp features were undeniable. Was this the famous billionaire, Lucas Fu? He was unfairly good-looking. It made my dingy apartment look even worse. I tried to calm my racing heart. “H-hi.” “BROTHER!” A scream came from behind me. The boy with the slap marks on his face was cowering in the corner. He wanted to run to his brother but seemed glued to the spot, glancing fearfully at me. I’m done for. The marks haven’t even faded yet. His brother is going to tear me apart. I looked up nervously. Lucas Fu was staring at the red handprint on his brother’s face. His brows furrowed. “What happened?” His voice dropped, cold as ice, as he looked at me. “Did you do that?” My heart sank. It’s over! I pressed down on my trembling leg. Don’t panic. There’s a way out. I forced myself to look calm. I walked over to the boy, put on a comforting smile, and reached out to pat his head. See? I’m gentle. I don’t hit people. Just as I reached out… The boy flinched violently, covering his head with his arms. “Don’t hit me! I’ll listen! I’ll be good!” Me: “…” Well. That backfired. That just proved how badly I beat him. My hand froze in mid-air. Should I do a 360-degree spinning kneel to apologize? Would that look sincere? I heard footsteps approaching. Lucas Fu! He’s coming to beat me up. I was terrified. The next second, my hand was grabbed. His hand was large and warm. I looked up, confused. I caught a flash of… joy? in his eyes. Wait. What? Did I see that right? Joy? Before I could process it, Lucas spoke. “Would you be willing to work as a full-time nanny for my brother? The salary is negotiable. Room and board included.” Behind me, his brother’s face went deathly pale. The text stream: [LMAO. The brother is thrilled. He finally found someone who can handle the brat. He can’t bring himself to hit him, so he’s hiring the Face-Blind Sis to do it! She has no mercy. The kid’s reign of terror is over.] Well then. I gripped his hand firmly. “I do!” 4 Perfect timing. I just lost my job and my landlord raised the rent. I was basically homeless. I don’t mind sleeping on a park bench, but my brother, Yu-Yu, is a student at a top high school. He has homework until 2 AM. I can’t let him suffer. So, after going home with the billionaire, I went to his study to negotiate. I asked if he could transfer my brother to a better school. Lucas agreed immediately. He said he’d put Yu-Yu in the same elite private school, same class, as his brother, Leo. The irony! My brother is going to a school for aristocrats! Lucas was efficient. He called his secretary right then to handle the transfer. I bowed deeply. “Boss, you are generous! Thank you!” “I will go educate… I mean, nurture your brother right now! I’ll make him a model citizen!” I happily backed out of the room and closed the door. I turned around and saw my brother, Yu-Yu, standing there with red eyes. His fists were clenched. He was trembling. “Sis…” “Why… why did you come out of his room dressed like that? Did he… force you?” “Sis, sob, let’s go. I don’t want to live in a mansion. Let’s go back to the rental. You can’t do this for me…” “I’ll make lots of money in the future. I’ll give it all to you. I don’t want you to be bullied by him sob…” Me: “?” Touching, but… what? I looked down. Oh. In my rush to negotiate, I hadn’t dried off completely after my shower. I threw on a thin, worn-out T-shirt. It was see-through. Damn. So embarrassing. No wonder Lucas wouldn’t look me in the eye earlier. I thought he was being an arrogant rich guy. Turns out… I dragged my crying brother away from the scene of the crime. After a long explanation, he finally believed me. “Really?” “Really. Your sister is smart. I wouldn’t let myself get taken advantage of.” Besides, with Lucas’s face and bank account… who’s taking advantage of whom? Of course, I didn’t say that out loud. To Yu-Yu, I am a goddess. I deserve Chris Evans.

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I am a Pathological Recorder, assigned to observe and document the budding obsessive tendencies of my stepbrothers. I’m just waiting for the day they finally snap and “go dark” for the heroine. Watching their behavior get crazier, I confidently report to my System: [It won’t be long now. The heroine is about to be imprisoned. The plot is proceeding as scheduled.] Then, one day, the heroine breaks down in tears. “You’re all obsessed with me, but have you ever once considered your sister’s feelings?” Several pairs of eyes, sharp as knives, land on me. “She watches you every day, so desperate for a scrap of affection from her brothers! “Instead of imprisoning me, why don’t you imprison the one person who’s already in love with you? I’m sure,” the heroine said, “that she’d be thrilled.” Everyone was silent for a long, heavy moment. Then my eldest brother, Alex, narrowed his eyes. “That… makes a lot of sense.” Me: ? 1 I dutifully wrote in my notebook: Julian (Third Brother) commissioned a custom-built golden cage. Caleb (Second Brother) acquired a set of antique handcuffs and matching shackles. Alex (First Brother) is having a manor built on a remote, private island. Finished, I leaned back on the sofa, smiling. Just then, Caleb came downstairs. He gave me a weird look. “What are you smiling at? It’s creepy.” My three stepbrothers have never been nice to me. I’m used to it. My gaze drifted to the ornate, velvet-lined silver box in his hands. “That’s a beautiful box, Caleb,” I said, feigning innocence. “What’s in it?” Predictably, his face darkened. He clutched the box tighter. “None of your business.” He stormed out the front door, looking like I’d just uncovered his deepest secret. Tsk. As if I didn’t know. Those were the handcuffs. I mentally pinged my System. [Don’t worry, 101. Based on current projections, the heroine’s imprisonment is imminent. The plot is stable.] The System’s mechanical voice whirred with excitement. [Excellent, Nina. This high-difficulty, high-fluctuation world is finally stabilizing!] I was excited, too. Just then, Julian came out of his room. He had his usual, placid smile, his dimples showing. When he saw me practically vibrating with excitement, he paused. His smile froze. “You…” I stopped, clearing my throat. “Julian,” I said, changing the subject, “I heard you spent a ton of money building something?” His smile faded. He slid a hand into his pocket. “Nina, curiosity is a bad look, ‘little sister’.” So innocent. So fake. I knew he was rotting with dark intentions for the heroine. I shrugged, putting on my own innocent smile. “Okay, brother. Whatever you say.” He looked disgusted, his lip curling. He gave me a cold once-over and turned to leave. “Oh, by the way, Julian,” I called out. “You know what they say. You can’t force love. If it’s not given freely, it’s not really yours.” He stopped. His face went cold. After a beat, he turned, his lips curving. “Sister, it doesn’t have to be freely given. As long as it’s… wet.” Ugh. He’s such a creep. My jab had landed. I just shrugged. “Well, as long as you’re happy.” 2 I was adopted by the Ashford family when I was three. Mrs. Ashford had been told by some mystic that having three sons back-to-back had unbalanced the “spiritual energy” of the house, and they needed a girl to “neutralize” it. That’s me. The neutralizer. I was irrelevant. No one in the Ashford family cared about me. When I was old enough to realize I wasn’t wanted, I started trying to please them. I did Alex’s homework (he was in high school, I was in elementary school). I tried to copy his perfect handwriting. I failed, and he sneered at me for six months. Caleb was a hothead, but he was all bark and no bite. He hated eating at home, so I brought him his lunch at school every day. Eventually, he stopped tripping me in the hallways. Julian, the third brother, looked like an angel but was a total sociopath. Nothing I did worked. He just loved tormenting me. One day, I locked myself in my room and just cried. I heard a click. Julian was standing over me, dangling a set of lockpicks. His voice was melodic, and pure poison. “The only thing you do that makes me happy, Nina… is when you let me play with you.” Play? I was the only one getting bullied! By the time I was in high school, I’d given up. I was dead inside. And that’s when the System activated. It said: [Do you know why no one likes you, no matter how hard you try?] …No. [Because you are an insignificant side character. Your only purpose is to make the heroine jealous, pushing the plot forward with your three stepbrothers.] It was bizarre, but it was also a massive relief. It wasn’t my fault. It was just the script. [But this world is fluctuating wildly. Nina, join the Plot Restoration Team. Your job is to observe your stepbrothers’ pathological behaviors, ensure the plot progresses, and report any deviations.] I hesitated. [We need you, Nina.] No one had ever called me Nina. It was always “Jiang Yuning” (my legal name), spat out like a command. I was a ghost. I said, “Okay. But can you… keep calling me Nina?” It agreed. So I became a Pathological Recorder. I spied on my “yandere” brothers and took detailed notes. The System even said that if I completed the mission, I’d get a huge payout. Enough to finally be free. Looking at my notes, it felt like that payday was getting close. 3 “Nina!” A girl ran up, linking her arm with mine. Sydney. The heroine. “Your brothers are so annoying,” she complained. “Yesterday it was a yacht, today it’s a condo. It’s too much. You’re so lucky, you’re so normal.” “You’re not losing out,” I said soothingly. “They’re hot, and they’re loaded. I’ve seen their hands. They’re… very capable. Just think of them as well-trained, obedient pets.” I was, of course, lying. They were the least obedient animals on the planet. Sydney blushed. “You… you look at that?” “I’m a recorder, remember? I observe everything. Their schedules, their habits, their preferences. Anything you want to know, just ask me.” She looked stunned. “Oh. Wow. Okay.” “Trust me,” I said. “You’re not getting a bad deal.” (She was. She was going to be eaten alive.) “You’re so nice, Nina. Most sisters would be jealous.” That’s because they aren’t my brothers. And they’ve never, ever treated me like a sister. I gave her a bitter smile. We shopped. She tried on jewelry, complaining, “God, prices just keep going up…” “It’s fine,” I said. “My brothers are rich.” Finally, I took her hand. “Hey, you should sleep over tonight. We can play that new co-op game.” Tonight. Tonight, the plot would lock in. The poor heroine, led to the wolves’ den by the one person she trusted. She agreed immediately. “Okay!” 4 All three brothers were home. The lynchpin moment. I walked in with Sydney. Caleb was on the sofa, scrolling through his phone. He never even looks up when I come home. “Wow, your house is huge,” Sydney said. “Is it just you and your brothers?” “Yeah. Our parents live in Europe.” Caleb’s head snapped up. “Sydney?” His voice was loud. Upstairs, a door opened. Julian leaned over the railing, his dimples showing. “Sydney? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming over?” And just like that, I was invisible. A little while later, Alex came out of his study. He just gave Sydney a calm nod. Caleb got her drinks. Julian showed her the game. Suddenly, a sob. Sydney was crying. “You… you all hover around me all day,” she wept. “Have you ever once considered your sister’s feelings?” Every head turned. Three pairs of eyes locked onto me. I felt like I’d been impaled. “She watches you every single day! So desperate and pathetic, just wanting her brothers to see her! “Instead of imprisoning me, why don’t you imprison the one person who’s already in love with you? I’m sure,” she said, her voice full of conviction, “that she’d be happy to be your prisoner.” The room was so quiet I could hear the air conditioner. I stared at her. That was… a hell of a plot twist. I was so stunned I couldn’t even process how she knew about the “imprisonment” part. “What… what are you talking about? Are you… huh?” Sydney grabbed my hand, holding it up. “She watches you! She knows all your schedules, all your favorite things! I’ve known since middle school how much she adores you! How can you be so cruel to her?” I was melting down. I tried to cover her mouth. “Stop. Please, just stop.” But my panic just made me look guilty. Caleb was horrified. “No way. Nina, you… you have that kind of crush on us?” “I DO NOT!” Sydney was resolute. “It’s okay, Nina. I’ll say the things you’re too afraid to say.” We just stared at each other. After a long silence, Alex, my eldest brother, narrowed his eyes. “That… makes a lot of sense.” WHAT?! I whipped my head to look at him. He was staring at me, his gaze unreadable, but incredibly dangerous. I took a step back. My heart was hammering. This world can’t collapse. I need this mission to work! Sydney was still crying. The vibe was just… toxic. “This… this is your issue,” I stammered, “you guys deal with it.” I turned to run upstairs. A hand clamped around my wrist. I looked back. Alex. A lazy smile on his face. “Running away is a bad habit, Nina.” I was getting really confused. I was always scared of Julian, but Alex… Alex was in charge of the entire Ashford empire. He was polished, distant, and utterly unreadable. “What imprisonment?” I tried to bluff, rolling my eyes. “Have you been reading too many weird romance novels?” “Not practical? You think we’re not?” Caleb, the idiot, suddenly flared up. He grabbed my other arm. “You wanna try me? See if I can’t chain you up right now?” Me: ? I’m so done. These psychos. Julian was just watching from the corner, enjoying the show. Finally, he spoke. “You guys have fun. I’m taking Sydney with me.” Caleb flinched, letting me go. “No!” Yes! That’s the right line! I patted Alex’s hand. “See, big brother? Go. All four of you. Have fun.” “But I just want to play with you.” Alex’s voice was low, his eyes fixed on me. I was so fed up I just glared. “You—” Wait. Wait. He’s trying to make Sydney jealous! Of course! He’s the smart one. I got it. I could play along. I grabbed his arm. “Fine. How do we play? We going to your island?” Alex’s eyes lit up. “I was just thinking that.” He pulled out his phone. “Prep the chopper. I’m bringing someone over tomorrow.” Before I could panic, Julian spoke, his smile gone. “Alex. Grandfather’s birthday party is tomorrow.” Oh, right. That’s why they were all home. I nodded, “Right. We… we can’t miss that.” Alex slowly released my wrist. I looked down. There were perfect, red finger-marks on my pale skin. “Your skin is so delicate,” he murmured. This was getting weirder and weirder. I hid my hand behind my back.

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1 The housekeeper’s son sold my hundred-million-dollar yacht. He told everyone I was a reckless womanizer, riddled with STDs, that I’d had a string of eighteen girlfriends and left a trail of terminated pregnancies in my wake. He claimed he was donating the money to a charity to cleanse my soul. My own sister backed his story, throwing me under the bus in front of everyone. My classmates turned it into a running joke. When my fiancée heard the rumors, she broke off our engagement, calling me a degenerate. I tried to call the police, but they all conspired against me, producing fabricated evidence that I was mentally unstable. They had me committed to a psychiatric hospital. There, on my family’s orders, I was tortured until my body gave out. I died young. When I opened my eyes again, I was back. The day my yacht disappeared. … My eyes shot open with a jolt. The housekeeper’s son, Noah, was standing in front of me, arms outstretched to block my path. He flinched when he saw the raw hatred in my eyes, but he still managed to raise his voice. “Why did you have to show off the yacht, Adrian? Couldn’t you just take your friends to a nice restaurant?” He turned to my sister. “You see, Claire? He just graduated and he’s already this extravagant. He’s going to bankrupt the family!” My sister, Claire, saw the look on my face and immediately stepped in front of Noah, shielding him. “That’s enough. Your yacht is gone, Adrian. Noah sold it. Just take your friends and go home.” She then turned back to Noah, tenderly straightening his collar. They shared a knowing smile, as if selling my hundred-million-dollar yacht was nothing more than a trivial errand. I watched their entitled act, bile rising in my throat. “That yacht was a gift from my grandmother. Who the hell are you to touch my things?” My sister stared at me, her shock genuine, as if she couldn’t believe I was defying her. “Adrian, have you forgotten who the future head of this family is?” I didn’t know before, but I learned it all after I died. I was meant to be the true heir. The memory of my last life sent a chill down my spine. My voice turned to ice. “So, the housekeeper’s son steals his employer’s yacht, and my sister protects the thief. It seems you two won’t confess unless I get the police involved.” At the mention of the police, Noah’s face flushed crimson. He shot me a venomous glare before turning to my classmates, who were watching the drama unfold with eager eyes. “I did it for your own good, Adrian!” he proclaimed. “You’re reckless with money and your private life is a mess! You play with women’s hearts, leaving a trail of broken promises and terminated pregnancies! You need to atone for your sins!” “That’s why I sold the yacht! To raise money for a massive donation, to pray for the souls of the children you denied a life, so they might find peace in the next!” His words were met with a chorus of gasps and whispers from my classmates. In my past life, his lies had sent me into a blind rage. I’d slapped him twice, hard. But that had only enraged Claire, who took his side and berated me for my supposed promiscuity. The story had spread like wildfire, eventually reaching my fiancée, Isabelle. The Sterling family had broken our engagement shortly after, and that was the beginning of my tragic end. Noah had quickly wormed his way into Isabelle’s life. To get rid of me for good, he and my sister fabricated evidence of my insanity, and my family had me forcibly committed. Under their explicit instructions, I was abused until I died. And that adulterous pair? One took my place as the heir to our family’s fortune. The other took my place at the altar with my fiancée. The memory made me tremble with fury. I pulled out my phone. “A housekeeper’s son dares to slander his employer. You’d better keep that same energy when you’re talking to the cops, Noah.” “Let’s let the police figure out who’s really sleeping around,” I said, my voice dangerously low. “And while they’re at it… let’s find out where my yacht went.” Noah went pale and shot a desperate look at Claire. She immediately sprang to his defense, slapping the phone out of my hand. “Don’t you dare threaten him, Adrian! It won’t change the disgusting things you’ve done! In fact, today, in front of all your friends, I’m going to expose you for who you really are!” Last time, I tried to keep it private, to save what was left of our sibling relationship. This time, I was done being their victim. I turned to my classmates. “My housekeeper’s son stole my yacht, and my sister is protecting him! Can someone please call the police for me?” They all avoided my gaze. “Come on, Adrian, Noah is a great guy. Why would he steal your yacht?” “He’s handsome and generous. He’s not a thief.” “He said he was doing it to help you atone. You should be thanking him, not slandering him.” “Maybe all that sleeping around has damaged more than just his reputation…” They whispered among themselves, punctuated by smug, knowing laughter. My face burned with humiliation. “Generous? He’s generous with my family’s money! You people—” Claire grabbed my arm, her voice a low threat. “That’s enough. Don’t make this worse for yourself. Noah grew up in our house. He’s like a second son to our family. Humiliating him is the same as humiliating me!” I looked at her face, red with fury, and slapped her. Hard. “No,” I said, my voice shaking with rage. “That is what humiliating you looks like.” I snatched my phone off the ground and frantically dialed my mother’s number. All I got was the cold, automated message: the user’s phone is switched off. Ignoring Claire’s sputtering rage, I tried again and again, but the result was the same. A cold dread settled in my stomach. Everything had happened so fast in my past life, I never had time to think. But now, it hit me. Through all of this, my mother was nowhere to be seen. Something was wrong. Very wrong. I ignored the jeers of my classmates and the loss of my hundred-million-dollar yacht. Backing away slowly, I dialed my grandmother. Her voice was warm and full of affection. “My dear boy, when are you coming to stay with your grandma for a few days…” I cut to the chase, my voice a low, urgent whisper. “Grandma, Mom is missing. I think Dad, my sister, and the housekeeper are involved. Claire and the housekeeper’s son sold the yacht you gave me, but that’s not what’s important. You have to find Mom. Please!” As I was speaking, I backed into someone. I spun around. It was my fiancée, Isabelle. By now, Claire and Noah had caught up to me. Seeing Isabelle, Noah’s eyes immediately welled up. “Isabelle,” he said, his voice thick with false righteousness. “Adrian… he sleeps around, he’s hurt so many girls, he’s even caught… diseases. I only wanted you two to have a happy, healthy marriage, so I made a donation of several million to charity in his name. But he’s furious with me for spending the money.” “He even hit Claire,” he added, his voice breaking. “Isabelle, please, talk some sense into him.” Noah was handsome, and his performance was convincing. It was enough to ignite Isabelle’s temper. She glared at me, then grabbed my arm and dragged me in front of Noah. “Adrian, you’ve gone too far! How could you bully someone who is only trying to help you? Apologize to him. Now!” “If you don’t,” she added, her voice sharp, “I will call off our engagement on behalf of the Sterling family!” I looked at the three of them, standing shoulder to shoulder—the very people who had sent me to hell in my last life. I clenched my jaw. “You want me to apologize? You’re not worthy.” Noah looked up, a single, perfect tear tracing a path down his cheek. “Of course. I’m just the housekeeper’s son. Nothing I do will ever be good enough for you…” Claire and Isabelle immediately started fussing over him. I used the distraction to slip away and head straight for the police station. The officers’ eyes widened in disbelief when they heard a private luxury yacht worth a hundred million dollars had been stolen and sold. After confirming that I wasn’t suffering from any delusions, they agreed to open an investigation. I had just walked out of the precinct, the detective still seeing me off, when my phone rang. It was Noah. “Where did you run off to cry, my dear brother?” he taunted. “You’ve been lording your position over me for years. How does it feel to finally be crushed under my heel?” I let out a cold laugh. “What do you want, Noah?” His voice was dripping with triumph. “I want you to know that your fiancée is mine now. Your sister is on my side. Everything you have… will be mine. Everyone is protecting me now. You’d be wise to accept your new reality and say goodbye to your precious yacht.” I blinked, then ended the call. I turned to the detective who was still standing behind me. “Did you get all of that?” For my own safety while the investigation was ongoing, I went to stay at my grandmother’s estate in the countryside. The moment she saw me, she pulled me into a fierce hug, tears streaming down her face. “My dear boy, what have they done to you?” I buried my face in her shoulder, the sting of tears in my own eyes. “I’m okay, Grandma. Did you find Mom?” She gently stroked my hair and was about to answer when the front door of the villa was kicked open. It was my father, Victor, and my sister, Claire. Seeing me there, my father’s face contorted with rage. “Adrian! After all the shameful things you’ve done, you have the nerve to hide here?” “You’re coming back with me! You will apologize to Noah, and you will hand over your engagement to him!” I stood up straight, meeting his gaze without flinching. “The housekeeper’s son tells a few lies, and suddenly I’m shameful and depraved?” “If it’s that easy to slander someone, then maybe I should start telling people the housekeeper’s entire family is corrupt.” “And another thing. That yacht was a gift from my grandmother. I want it back.” My father was sputtering with rage. He lunged for me. “I know what kind of boy Noah is! He did it for your own good! You insolent brat, get back home this instant! You’re grounded!” Just then, my grandmother, who had been silent until now, stepped in front of me, leaning on her cane. “Victor. It seems you’ve forgotten your manners. You see your mother-in-law and you don’t even greet her.” Seeing her, my father snapped out of his rage. The color drained from his face, then a tight, dismissive smile appeared. “Mother. I’m just trying to discipline this disobedient fool for you. You don’t need to get involved.” My grandmother laughed, a cold, humorless sound. “Victor. Adrian is my grandson. You’d do well to remember that before you speak.” My father’s face hardened. He pulled out his phone and sent a message. Within moments, a crowd had gathered at the gates of the estate. They were carrying cameras and microphones, surrounding a white medical van. In the center of it all stood Noah. I moved closer, just in time to hear him shouting to the reporters. “—I did it all for him! But he insults me again and again! So today, I’m asking all of you to be my witness! Let’s find out, once and for all, if my brother has been playing the field and destroying innocent lives!” To my horror, my sister Claire walked up to him and gently wiped a tear from his cheek. “You’ve been through so much, Noah.” Their eyes met for a moment, and then Noah turned back to the crowd and pointed at me. “Adrian! You claim to be innocent, so prove it! The reporters and doctors are all here. Do you dare to let them examine you?” My head was spinning. Beside me, my grandmother was trembling with fury. “You animals! How dare you humiliate my grandson like this!” My father then stepped into the crowd, a smug smile on his face. “My apologies, Mother, but our family’s alliance with the Sterlings is too important. We can’t very well marry off a son who is filthy and diseased. It would jeopardize future business.” His words riled up the onlookers. “Now that’s a real man! Mr. Vance won’t let his children stray from the right path!” “Look at that Adrian’s face, he’s white as a sheet. He must be guilty.” “No doubt about it. And look how calm the other young master is.” I stood on the veranda, looking down at the growing mob. I squeezed my grandmother’s hand and then, my voice ringing out over the crowd, I spoke. “Fine. Since my father is so concerned about the marriage alliance, let’s not just test me.” “Let’s have your precious ‘second young master’ get tested right alongside me.”

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After five years of marriage, Tristan and I went from being the perfect couple to bitter enemies. The year we wanted each other dead, he choked me, cursing me for being barren as karma for my “evil deeds.” I smashed a teapot over his head, screaming that he deserved to bury the woman he loved. He locked me in the house; I strangled him with his own vows. We were locked in a death spiral. Until a stray arrow flew straight for my heart. Without hesitation, he blocked it for me, smiling as he died. “Now, I don’t owe you anything.” But idiots like him don’t know how to block arrows properly. The arrow went through him and killed me too. Two for the price of one. When I opened my eyes, I was sixteen again, vibrant and full of life. This time, he went North to find his true love, and I went South to protect my family. We were supposed to be strangers. But Tristan… he regretted it. 1 “Miss Sarah, bad news. Tristan is kneeling in the front hall. He’s begging… begging to break off the engagement. Your father wants to see you.” Looking in the bronze mirror, my sixteen-year-old face was smooth, radiant, and untouched by the years of bitterness and gray hairs from my past life in that gilded cage. It’s true. I’ve been reborn. “Fine! I agree to break the engagement!” Tristan whipped his head around, disbelief written all over his face. “Really?” “Really!” Seventeen-year-old Tristan was dashing and proud. Even kneeling, his back was straight, his confidence unshaken. “So from now on, we go our separate ways? Sarah Bennett and Tristan Cole have nothing to do with each other?” The gentle breeze blew pear blossoms like rain, highlighting the determination on his face. “Agreed!” I answered so quickly that Tristan was left speechless. In our past life, resentment and unwillingness kept us rotting together for a decade. In this life, he let go, and I was set free. Everything ended on this flower-strewn afternoon. My father was furious, smashing a blue porcelain cup. “You’re foolish! The wedding is imminent. How can you let him break it off? Think of your reputation! Your future!” My brother kicked the door open, blood on his lip, eyes blazing. “Bullying my sister? Does he think the Bennetts are pushovers?” “I chased him for three miles and beat him bloody.” “Sarah, just say the word. Even if he runs to Chicago, I’ll drag him back to the altar!” So, Tristan was in a rush to break the engagement to go find his true love in Chicago. She was the love of his life, and the arsonist of my marriage. 2 In my previous life, Tristan and I were married for thirteen years, but we spent eight of them as enemies. We went from lovers to enemies because of one woman: Emma. Tristan saved her from bandits in Chicago and brought her home. There were many ways to repay a debt, but Tristan insisted on making her his concubine. She went through the standard procedures—morning greetings, serving tea to the main wife. None of it was malicious, but she felt I was humiliating her. “You’ll regret this!” she screamed before running away. When we found her, she was a bloated corpse in the moat. Tristan went hysterical, accusing me of driving his savior to suicide. I was full of grievances, accusing him of being blinded by love and manipulated by petty tricks. That night, we had our worst fight. He accidentally pushed me down the stairs. My three-month-old baby turned into a pool of blood, dissolving our childhood friendship and three years of marriage. It also took away my ability to ever be a mother again. My father forced him to swear an oath: even if I remained childless, he could never take another woman without my permission. Tristan kept his word. He brought no one into the house. Instead, he kept a mistress in the city, rarely coming home. I wouldn’t be outdone. I kept a gigolo in the North District, drinking and singing my days away. Until his mistress got pregnant and started provoking me. Her carriage charged at me on the street, trampling the only thing I loved—my dog—to death. Before I could slap her, Tristan caught my hand. He shielded her, eyes red. “Hit me if you have to. I bought her the carriage.” “It’s just a dog. I’ll buy you ten more.” The woman, who looked exactly like Emma, hugged his arm and wept. “I didn’t mean to. If Sister hates me so much, I’ll pay with my life.” So I granted her wish. 3 I slapped Tristan twice, bloodying his face. While the woman ran upstairs to the tea room, I drew a sword and pointed it at her. She was so scared she fell down the stairs. One corpse, two lives. That night, Tristan stormed into my courtyard like a madman and choked me. “She’s dead, the baby is dead. Are you happy now?” Suffocating, I felt like a dying fish. But seeing his pain gave me a twisted pleasure. “It was just a mistress I bought for five hundred silver. I’ll pay you two thousand.” Tristan’s hands trembled. He spat venomous words. “You did it on purpose? You’re evil. No wonder you’re barren. It’s your karma.” My resolve shattered. Hatred burned inside me. I grabbed a pot of hot tea and smashed it over his head. “You deserved it too! Always burying the women you love.” The people closest to you know where to stab to hurt the most. He stumbled, clutching his bleeding head, roaring in disbelief. “You want me dead over a gigolo?” “Didn’t you want me dead over a dancer?” “You loved him? You slept with him?” he asked, incredulous. I laughed, gasping for air. “Your mistress was pregnant. Why should I stay chaste for you?” Shock cracked his expression. He staggered away, locking the courtyard gates, intending to imprison me until I died. We fought until the capital fell into chaos. A stray arrow flew toward me. Tristan blocked it, smiling as he died. “Now, I don’t owe you anything.” But the idiot didn’t know how to block an arrow properly. It went through him and killed me too. I died behind him and woke up today. The rain beat against the banana leaves. I arranged flowers and told my story calmly, as if it were someone else’s. But every word was thunder to my father and brother. My father turned pale, speechless. My brother crushed a teacup, eyes red. “I treated him like a brother! How dare he… how dare he do this to you!” “Since he treated you like this, why didn’t I kill him?” My nose stung. Tears fell as I looked at them. “Because Father and Brother… were already gone!” 4 Thunder tore through the peaceful April sky. My mother died in childbirth with me and my twin brother. My father raised us alone, struggling every step of the way. He finally rose to power, becoming the tutor to the Princes. But party politics dragged him down. He was framed by his favorite student, the Third Prince. A forged letter condemned my father and the Fifth Prince for treason. The Emperor washed the capital with blood. The rain at the execution ground was heavy, washing away my father and brother in the blink of an eye. For the rest of my life, I lived in that cold rain, never standing straight again. The capital’s wealth is blinding, but in this life, I just want my family to live. “The hydrangeas in Charleston are blooming. Father, shall we go home?” My father aged instantly, wrinkles carving into his face. He couldn’t look away from me. “If I were gone, my Sarah would suffer so much.” Ambition and legacy meant nothing compared to flesh and blood. My father loved me more than his career. He burned the stack of forged letters from the Third Prince. The dream ended. “I’m old. It’s time to retire. Why not accompany Sarah to enjoy the mountains and rivers?” My brother smiled, pretending to be relaxed. “Charleston is nice. And Cousin Luke is even better.”

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I’m Lily. The unloved, “real” daughter, shipped off to an elite prep school, Crestwood Academy, where someone was always trying to make my life hell. Until the day I got cornered in an alley by a girl with a rainbow-dyed undercut. She was shaking me down for protection money. “I don’t take your money for free,” she’d growled. “You’re in trouble, you call me.” So, the next time the school’s queen bee, Madison, had me cornered, I shakily dialed that number. “Hey, Janky? It’s Lily. Help…” Who knew? For the price of a lemonade, she actually meant it. 1. The first time I met Janky, I was riding a beat-up Lime scooter to the subway station. I hadn’t even gone a block before a group of kids dragged me, scooter and all, into an alley. Seriously. They had to help me off the damn scooter. The leader was the rainbow-haired girl. She had seven friends with her, all with bad bleach-blond jobs. It was the first time I’d seen so many colors on one person’s head. I just stared. She snarled, trying to look tough. “Protection money. You gonna pay up, or we gotta search you?” “…” Her crew tried to do an evil laugh. “Heh… heh… heh…” I blinked. “Guys, hold up. First, nobody carries cash. Second, if I Venmo you, the cops will trace it in five minutes.” A bleach-blond guy raised a fist so big it looked like a cartoon ham. I yelped and clutched my backpack. “Wait! I’ve got an idea! You can take me to a store, and I’ll buy you stuff!” The rainbow girl shoved him aside and grabbed my collar. “Don’t try any tricks, nerd.” “Okay.” 2. My brain was running calculations at light speed. Sure, I went to Crestwood, but I was the “poor” rich girl. I got $800 a month. Which was a lot, until the school bullies smashed my glasses the first week ($200 gone). Add in my subscriptions for online AP courses and the scooter rental I was about to be charged for… I had $398.66 to my name. For eight people… that’s $49.83 each. If I begged, maybe they’d leave me enough for the subway and an Uber home? I had to get home. The Astors—my so-called family—had made it clear: show up for their stupid dinner party tonight, or my allowance was cut. I just hoped I wouldn’t have to walk. 3. They took me to a street cart. They bought eight lemonades and eight corn dogs. And they used a coupon. Total: $28.72. The shakedown of the century. 4. The rainbow-haired girl, Janky, stuffed the last of her corn dog into her mouth and slapped me on the back. “Name’s Janky. I run this block.” “Since you paid up, you’re my girl now. Got trouble? Call me.” With that, she and her seven bleach-blonds hopped on three beat-up mopeds and sputtered away. The setting sun caught her rainbow ponytail. It looked like a beautiful oil slick. 5. A half-hour scooter ride, two subway transfers, and a 45-minute Uber later, I got “home.” It was past 9 PM. The guests were gone. Just the four Astors. Rosalie, the fake daughter, was sitting there in a designer dress and a freaking tiara, looking like she was about to cry. The second I walked in, my “dad,” “mom,” and “brother” all turned to glare at me. Only Rosalie stood up, managing a perfect smile-through-tears. “Lily! You’re back!” My blood-related brother, Grayson, exploded first. “You finally decided to show up? You’ve embarrassed us all!” I pushed my new glasses up. “The driver left without me.” I’d seen him. As I was walking out of school, the family Bentley sped off. Rosalie had rolled down the window just long enough to flip me the bird. “Don’t you dare blame Rosalie!” Grayson snapped. “She called, said you flat-out refused to ride in the same car with her!” Rosalie grabbed his arm. “Grayson, stop, please… It’s my fault. I’m the one who made her hate me…” My “mother,” Mrs. Astor, sighed. “We understand you’re upset, Lily. But you can’t take it out on your sister. She wouldn’t even cut her birthday cake, she was waiting for you.” “Mom, don’t…” Grayson was still on me. “Even if you took public transport, you shouldn’t be this late!” I answered honestly. “I got mugged. It took a while.” Grayson just stared. “…That’s the best lie you can come up with?” I shrugged and opened my banking app. “It’s true. I was mugged for eight lemonades and eight corn dogs.” Rosalie’s eyes welled up instantly. “Oh, Lily… you mean you made friends and went out to eat?” “…” It was the perfect example of that old saying: even if you hang yourself, people who don’t love you will just think you’re swinging. 6. Sometimes I think the Astors are just badly programmed NPCs. Rosalie cries. Grayson yells. Mrs. Astor sighs. Mr. Astor stays silent, then hits me with one devastating line. I’d tried explaining myself before. When I first arrived, Grayson cornered me. “Just because you’re blood doesn’t mean anything. Don’t think you can steal the love I have for Rosalie.” I was just confused. “Hi. Don’t worry, I don’t even know you. I have zero possessive urges.” That just made him angrier. Later, they decided to send me to board at the school, giving me only $800 a month. “Don’t be jealous of your sister,” Mrs. Astor had said. “You grew up… that way. We’re afraid if you get too much money, you’ll go wild.” I’d thanked her. “$800 is great. I used to have to collect cans for cash.” She totally lost it. Grayson stormed in, yelling about how I shouldn’t “play the victim.” 7. How do you even respond to a script that bad? I couldn’t. 8. So I just stood there, clutching my backpack, waiting for them to finish. I was starving. I really regretted not taking Janky up on her offer of a corn dog. My new friends were right, they were crispy… But today, Rosalie was really hamming it up. I hadn’t said a word, but she suddenly ran to Mrs. Astor, sobbing. “It’s my fault! I stole her place! Lily has every right to hate me!” “Mom, she’s your real daughter! How can you give me the Amex Black Card and only give her $800 a month? Make me live in the dorms, not her!” Mrs. Astor hugged her, looking pained. “Rosie, stop. This was our decision. It has nothing to do with you.” She shot me a warning glare. “And Lily doesn’t hate you. She knows this is what she deserves. Right, Lily?” Rosalie turned, her eyes hopeful. “Sister… can you please not be mad at me anymore?” I was just so tired. “I’m not mad. I was never mad at you.” “I don’t believe you!” she cried. “Or you would have ridden home with me instead of going out to eat with your… your friends!” I couldn’t help it. “Rosalie, you and I are strangers. We’re not even related. Why would I have any expectations of you?” 9. I knew I shouldn’t have broken script. The whole NPC squad crashed. Grayson slapped me. Hard. “Who the hell do you think you’re insulting?” Mrs. Astor: “Go back to the school.” Mr. Astor, finally speaking: “Since you don’t like the family car, you’re not welcome in it. Go back the way you came.” Before I left, I had to check. “The tuition… and the allowance. That’s… that’s still happening, right?” “GET OUT!” Fine. 10. I scrambled to get back to the dorm. By the time I made it, it was past 11 PM. I opened my laptop and started studying. 11. I never wanted to go to Crestwood. The academics were a joke. Not like the public magnet school I’d tested into. But the Astors had yelled at me. “Rosalie is at Crestwood,” Grayson had said. “You’re going to go to some… some public school? Are you trying to make us look bad on purpose?” Fine. But the teachers here just phoned it in, saving all their real energy for their high-dollar private tutoring sessions. I’d asked the Astors for a tutor. “Just a normal one…” Mrs. Astor had scoffed. “Don’t bother with that. You’re 17. We can’t ‘buy’ you into being a scientist now.” I told her I was first in my class. I heard her laugh over the phone. “Oh, that’s sweet. A real small-town brainiac.” 12. What was her degree in, again? Oh, right. I didn’t get it. You can’t reason with NPCs. No tutor? Fine. The internet is full of free AP guides and resources. I made my own study plan. I was just glad I could make up for the time I’d lost. 13. And, luckily, I’d bought a corn dog on my way back to the dorm. This school had single-room dorms. It was late. I was studying, eating a greasy corn dog, and I was, for a moment, totally happy. 14. The next morning, Madison, a girl in my class, cornered me. She said my “early morning studying” was too loud. This was a lie. Madison didn’t even live in the dorms. She was the school’s top bully, Rosalie’s best friend, and the one who’d smashed my first pair of glasses. I knew she was just looking for a fight. I shrank back. “Sorry. I’ll be… quieter.” She patted my cheek, her rings cold. “You think ‘sorry’ is enough? Just having a charity case like you at this school makes me sick. Don’t go home after class. I’m going to teach you a lesson.” “I’ll tell the principal.” SLAP. She hit me, hard, right across the face. “You try it.” 15. I found out what “you try it” meant. I’m the top student. I sit in the front row. I sat through an entire day of classes with a bright red handprint on my face. Not a single teacher asked me about it. They wouldn’t even make eye contact. I sat there, sick to my stomach. Before the last bell, I tried calling Mrs. Astor. It rang once. She hung up. I was out of options. My hand was shaking. I dialed the number from the alley. “Hey… Janky? It’s Lily. I’m in trouble…” 16. “Who?” I babbled, explaining everything. “Oh! Lemonade-Corn-Dog-Girl! Right! Don’t worry, I’m comin’ to bust you out.” Then she asked, “So, where’s this chick gonna jump you?” “I don’t know.” “…” “She just said… ‘don’t go home after class.’” “Right.” 17. I didn’t get a chance to go anywhere. The bell rang, and Madison and her friends grabbed me and dragged me into the girls’ bathroom. The bathroom. Crap. How was I supposed to tell Janky? 18. Madison didn’t waste time. She punched me straight in the face. My nose exploded. I was crying, tasting blood. “Madison, I never did anything to you!” She and her friends laughed. “You, this piece of trash… how dare you even compare to Rosalie?” “I’m not trying to compare!” Why would I? I had better grades, better morals, and honestly, better looks. Her only skill was acting. “Still talking back!” I saw her fist coming and I did the only thing I could: I head-butted her in the stomach. She shrieked. I made a break for the door. …And got caught. Her two friends grabbed me, dragged me back, and started kicking. “Kill this little bitch!” Help! These NPCs were set to “Hard” mode! My new glasses… they smashed them. Again.

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After another cold war with my childhood sweetheart, I didn’t go running to him. My friends all tried to talk me down. “He’s just complicated, Willow. He says the opposite of what he means.” “Difficult people need a patient lover.” But I was just so tired. I didn’t want to be the one to back down anymore. All those years of cold wars, of arguments and avoidance… they had worn me down so much that I couldn’t even tell the difference anymore. Was he really just complicated, or did he just not love me? So, when he threatened me with a breakup again, I just said, “Fine. Let’s break up.” 1 Hearing me say that, Jerry visibly froze. But I just kept my head down, my voice steady. “I’ll get my things packed and out of here as soon as I can. You can keep everything we bought together. As for the clothes you left at my place, please come get them when you can. Or I can have them couriered to you…” The only sound in the silent apartment was my own voice. Jerry’s expression shifted from stormy to a cold, blank mask. He cut me off abruptly. “What about Pudding? How do we split him?” Pudding was the stray cat I’d found by the gate of our complex. I’d adopted him, paid for all his expenses. But he never warmed up to me. Eight times out of ten, he wouldn’t let me hold him. He’d even scratched my wrist a few times. Jerry, on the other hand, was always indifferent to him, never paid him any mind. And yet, Pudding would actively rub against his legs, meowing and begging for attention. “You can have him, too,” I said, letting out a long breath. No matter how much you love something, that kind of blatant favoritism will eventually break your heart. “Willow Morgan,” Jerry said, his voice tight with suppressed anger, “you’re the one who missed Valentine’s Day. Why are you the one throwing a tantrum?” But wasn’t he the one who said “break up” first? Maybe he’d forgotten. He threw those words around so often, after all. It was an effective threat, and he used it like a well-worn tool. “I told you, my flight was delayed. That’s why I was late getting back.” Jerry just sneered. “Excuses. Why couldn’t you have just caught an earlier flight?” On this business trip, I had worked for over ten hours straight, compressing my schedule just to make it onto a flight that would get me home the same day. But Jerry wouldn’t listen to that. He would find a hundred other reasons to blame me. So I fell silent, a profound sense of powerlessness washing over me. Jerry walked a few steps toward the door, then turned back, his tone icy. “I’m not coming back until you admit you were wrong.” “We’ve already broken up,” I said. But it was as if he hadn’t heard me. He tilted his head, continuing his monologue. “I’ll give you one more chance. It’s not just about you being late.” That was a first. Usually, he’d just slam the door and leave, even if his tone was still as hard as steel. “Think it over, and then come apologize to me.” 2 I sat on the sofa for a long time before dragging my exhausted body up to clean the living room. I retrieved the gift from the trash can. I had run to a dozen different shops in another country to find this, picking it out with so much care. But the person it was for hadn’t even glanced at it. He didn’t cherish it. So, like the rest of the wreckage scattered across the floor, it was worthless. After cleaning the living room, I went to the bedroom to pack. This was Jerry’s home. Every corner of it was filled with traces of me. The mugs we picked out together, the throw blanket, the matching sets of dishes… I only packed a few items of clothing and walked out with my suitcase. As I reached the door, a flash of yellow fur shot out in front of me. As if to block my path, Pudding flopped down in the middle of the living room and refused to move, his round eyes fixed on me. When I first found him, he was dirty and rail-thin, clearly malnourished. Now, his fur was fluffy and glossy. He was an undeniably handsome cat. I knelt down. In a rare exception, Pudding didn’t shrink from my touch. I stroked his head. “I’m leaving now. He’ll take care of you from now on.” Pudding would probably like that. He always preferred Jerry anyway. Not like me, the person he never let get close. I carefully pried his claws from where they were hooked into my pant leg. Ignoring his frantic meows, I picked up my suitcase and left. 3 As I reached the main gate of the complex, I got a call. It was one of Jerry’s friends, and his tone was accusatory. “Willow, what did you do to Jerry this time? He’s at my bar, drinking himself stupid, and no one can stop him. You need to get over here and drag him home before he wrecks the place.” I felt that familiar weariness creep back in. “I don’t even know why he’s angry. The moment I walked in the door, he flipped the table.” There was a pause on the other end, then a note of surprise. “You don’t know? He found out you had dinner with another guy. That guy even dropped you back at your hotel. Jerry’s jealous, Willow.” “He was a client,” I explained. “It was a business dinner. He gave me a ride because it was pouring rain and I couldn’t get a cab.” So that was the real reason. Jerry was always like this. He’d get jealous and angry if I so much as spoke to another man for too long. I used to tell myself it was because he loved me, because he was possessive. But now, all I felt was exhaustion. “I can explain everything,” I said into the phone, my voice soft. “I just don’t understand one thing.” “Why is he willing to tell all of you everything, but he’s never willing to just ask me?” I once asked my best friend what she did when she and her boyfriend fought. She thought for a moment. “Depends on who’s right and who’s wrong. We wait until we’ve both cooled down, then we just talk it out.” But Jerry would never do that. He kept everything bottled up inside. I never knew why he was angry. I always had to guess, or ask his friends. I couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t communicate with me. Why he’d rather vent to his friends than just ask me for the truth. Later, I learned a word for it: emotionally constipated. Jerry was the most emotionally constipated person I had ever met. He was sensitive and volatile. His only responses were to retreat and withdraw, using cold, cutting words to test me. Everyone said that people like him weren’t cut out for relationships. Only I didn’t believe them, and I charged ahead, full of passion. But now, I was lost. If a relationship always depends on one person making all the effort… can it really last? 4 I moved back into my own apartment. But even if we didn’t see each other at home, we still had to see each other at work. We worked at the same research institute, just in different departments. During a project handoff, I saw a young woman trailing beside him. She had a fresh, innocent look about her—a graduate student who had just started this year. Her name was Chloe. Jerry’s eyes lit up the moment he saw me. But I didn’t look at him, just calmly went through the work procedures. And just like that, the warmth in his expression vanished, replaced by an icy chill. He walked right past me without a word, his gaze fixed straight ahead. I overheard Chloe’s curious whisper. “Dr. Croft, how did you get that huge scar on your arm? It really startled me the first time I saw it.” Someone else answered. “You’re new, so you wouldn’t know. Our Dr. Croft and Dr. Morgan from the next department… they’re the couple. Total power couple. That scar is from an old earthquake drill. He was carrying her because she’d sprained her ankle. I heard that scar is why he couldn’t become a pilot, so he switched majors and ended up here.” Chloe’s eyes filled with admiration. “That’s so moving. They really are the perfect couple.” The gossip mill instantly churned to life. From Jerry giving up his dream for me to him applying to the institute to be with me, everyone was praising his devotion and, by extension, expressing their envy of me. Our cold war of the past few days was dismissed as simple lovers’ banter. “I bet you it’s Dr. Morgan who apologizes first again.” “Last time she bought us all bubble tea. What is it this time? I’m hoping for cupcakes.” “No way, that’s cheating. It’s always Dr. Morgan who gives in first. If you bet on him apologizing, then I’ll take that bet.” I stood in the corner, listening silently to their laughter. But this time, they were all wrong. “Jerry and I have broken up,” I said, my voice cutting through the noise. “Please don’t bring it up again.” My appearance brought the conversation to a screeching halt. People exchanged awkward glances and quickly dispersed. The truth was, our relationship was nowhere near as perfect as it looked from the outside. The endless cold wars and arguments had left it covered in invisible wounds, fragile and on the verge of collapse. I really wanted to know, Jerry… now that I’m not fixing things, now that I’m not trying to save us… will you even notice? Will you try to get me back? This time, will you be the one to apologize to me first? 5 For an entire month, Jerry and I were like strangers. It was a standoff. Neither of us was willing to be the first to back down. In the meantime, Chloe and Jerry were getting closer. They had lunch together, left work together. During a weekend team-building hike, Jerry even chose to be in her group. It was Chloe, ironically, who seemed hesitant. “Isn’t this… a little inappropriate? What about Dr. Morgan?” Jerry’s tone was dismissive. “We broke up, didn’t we? Why should I care what she does?” He didn’t lower his voice; everyone around us could hear. “Besides, she loves having dinner with other men so much. I’m sure hiking is no different.” Instantly, the way people looked at me changed. I heard whispers. “She has a great boyfriend like Dr. Croft and she doesn’t appreciate him. Flirting with other guys… no wonder he broke up with her.” The gossiping group only scattered when they saw me approaching. On the way up the mountain, Chloe twisted her ankle. Without a second thought, Jerry crouched down and lifted her onto his back. “I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice filled with guilt. “Now we’re going to be last because of me.” Jerry’s voice was gentle. “It’s fine. We were just here to relax anyway. The ranking doesn’t matter.” I was trailing behind them. There was an odd number of people on the trip, and everyone else had already paired up. Not wanting to break anyone up, I just went as a group of one. My stamina had never been great, and I was already breathing heavily. The atmosphere between the two of them up ahead was peaceful and harmonious. I even heard someone praise Jerry for being so dependable. 6 Jerry was, indeed, a very dependable person. He was polite and gentlemanly to everyone. Except me. In college, he was our class president. During an earthquake drill, everyone scrambled for the exits. He was the only one who ran against the crowd, back towards me, to carry me out because I had sprained my ankle a few days prior. The entire university buzzed about it. Everyone envied my luck. But what they didn’t know was that Jerry was scolding me the entire time. “Do you have any idea how much trouble you are? If you’ve sprained your ankle, why don’t you just stay home? Now you’ve dragged our whole class down to last place again. Willow, you’re completely useless.” I wanted to tell him that I had already gotten permission from the professor to skip the drill. But hearing his harsh words, I didn’t want to argue and make him angrier. Later, his friends told me he was just being contrary. That he was actually worried about my ankle and wanted me to rest at home. He had even gone to find a traditional medicine doctor to get a special ointment for me. “He makes a hundred bucks a day at his part-time job, but one of those patches costs eighty. He bought you two weeks’ worth without even hesitating.” My best friend was envious. “He’s just awkward, but he really loves you. That whole broody, secretly-caring thing is so romantic.” But now, watching Jerry comfort Chloe, I finally realized something. It wasn’t that he was incapable of gentleness. He just wasn’t gentle with me. I could feel his love through the words of others, but never from his own actions. He always spoke to me with venom, always gave me the cold shoulder. He called me stupid, called me frivolous. He cut up a scarf someone else had given me, smashed a gaming console a colleague had lent me. I told myself he was just jealous, that he just cared too much. So, after being pushed away time and time again, after every refusal to communicate, I would soothe my own hurt feelings, and then I would be the one to be warm and proactive, to apologize tirelessly, to be the first to give in. But passion needs to be reciprocated. I wasn’t invincible in this relationship. I could feel hurt and sad, too. The way he acted when he was being “difficult” and the way he acted when he didn’t love me were so similar. I was too heartbroken to tell the difference anymore. Was Jerry really just complicated, or had he just stopped loving me?

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My mother jumped from the balcony right in front of my father. The blood spread farther than I could have imagined. After that, my father’s paranoia spiraled. He hated me for not being able to keep my mother here, and his cruelty became my daily reality. He was convinced that if he was hard enough on me, my mother’s heart would soften. That she would come back from the other world. She never did. But I found the last words she left for me. “My darling, I’m sorry I couldn’t take you with me then.” “But when you’re an adult, you can make your own choice.” “All you have to do is die. You can leave this world and come find me—” I stood on the same rooftop where she had jumped, taking one last look at my father as he sprinted toward me, his face a mask of madness. I didn’t want him anymore. 1 The night before my eighteenth birthday, my phone buzzed with something I hadn’t seen in years: a video call request from my father. I answered. It wasn’t his face on the screen. It was Lora’s. The daughter of Seraphina, my father’s childhood sweetheart from her first marriage. Lora’s eyes were full of triumphant malice. She tilted the phone, pointing toward the kitchen behind her. Through the half-open door, I could just make out the figure of Mike. My father. He was wearing an apron, cooking for another woman and her child. And the boy who always said he liked me… He was sitting on their couch, casually playing with the family cat as if he’d been there a thousand times. It made sense. Mike barely acknowledged my existence. Why would Leo feel any obligation to stay with me? Lora covered her mouth, her eyes dancing with glee. “Poor little thing. Your daddy and your boyfriend don’t want you anymore! They’re not even celebrating your birthday with you tomorrow. Too bad, you little jinx who killed her own mom—” Before she could finish, Mike walked out of the kitchen. He was holding a plate of cola chicken wings—my favorite. He ambled over and took the phone from Lora’s hand. His eyes glanced at the screen, and a flicker of recognition passed over his face. The faint smile he’d been wearing instantly vanished. His voice was like ice. “She called? Don’t answer Anya’s calls anymore. She’s bad luck.” 2 My mother came to this world when Mike was at his lowest. The System told her that the main storyline here was nearly over. But Mike, the story’s second male lead, was trapped in the darkest chapter of his life. The main heroine had left him, his family’s business was bankrupt, and a rival had left him with two shattered legs. Many readers felt his ending was too tragic. They wished for someone to appear by his side, to pull him from the abyss. That’s when my mother, Elara, was sent here. The System promised her that when her mission was over, she could choose to stay or to leave. She stayed by Mike’s side. She helped him heal, nursed him back to health, and together, they rebuilt his empire from the ashes. The day his company went public, my father knelt on one knee and proposed. “Elara,” he said, his voice thick with emotion, “will you marry me?” She didn’t say yes right away. “Mike,” she said instead, her voice steady. “You know I’m not from here, right? You know I was sent by a System.” “If you ever betray me, I will go back to my world, and I will never return.” Mike gripped her hand, shaking his head fiercely. “I will never, ever do anything to hurt you.” At the time, neither of them could have imagined what was coming. After the story was supposed to have ended, the plot took a sharp, unexpected turn. The main hero and heroine did not live happily ever after. The heroine, Seraphina, got a divorce. She moved back to the city, bringing her daughter with her. 3 By the time I was born, the distance between my mother and father was already a vast, cold ocean. Seraphina and my father were childhood sweethearts, and she always seemed to have a reason to call him away. She was sick. Her child had a fever. Her pipes burst. There was a strange man lurking in her neighborhood. In the beginning, my mother would call him, her voice tight with frustration. Eventually, she just grew tired of it. When it was just the two of us, she would pull me onto her lap, hold me so tight I could barely breathe, and whisper, “Anya, if Mommy wasn’t here anymore, what would you do?” I knew my mother didn’t belong to this world. I knew she had a System that could take her away. But I had never seen it, never heard it. Until one night. For the first time, I heard the System speak to her. It was a cold, mechanical voice, yet it seemed to carry a strange, human-like sorrow. “Host, I apologize. We lost contact with you for a period of time.” “The plotline has now destabilized. The interaction between the second male lead, Mike, and the heroine has become too frequent. We must repair the world’s narrative.” “Because you do not originally belong here, we require you to leave.” My mother’s face crumpled in agony. She sank to her knees, her face in her hands, and a choked sob escaped her lips. “I don’t care about Mike anymore. I don’t want him. But what about Anya? She’s my daughter. She’s so little. What will happen to her?” The air was thick with a heavy silence. But there was no other way. The System replied, “I am sorry. But this is the only way.” 4 I still remember the day my mother left. She made me a plate of cola chicken wings and brought them to my room. She unclasped the jade pendant from her neck and fastened it around mine. “Daddy is coming home soon,” she said, her voice impossibly gentle. “I have something important to talk to him about. You stay and play in your room, okay, Anya?” My parents hadn’t seen each other in a long time, not since their cold war began. I knew she wouldn’t have called him unless it was something critical. Maybe… maybe she was really leaving. But I didn’t say a word. I just clutched the pendant at my throat and nodded. I finished the chicken wings and waited. And waited. But my father never came home. Bored, I cracked my door open. My mother was standing on the balcony, on the phone. The apartment was silent. I could hear every word. “I told you, this is the last time,” she said, her voice shaking with rage. “My System is taking me away. Are you coming or not?” My father’s voice on the other end was a cold sneer. “I told you, Seraphina’s daughter has a fever today. I can’t leave. And stop threatening me with your System. It doesn’t work on me. It can take you home? Fine. Go. I don’t believe you’d actually abandon Anya and go back to your own world.” My hand tightened on the doorknob. I watched my mother lower the phone, defeated. A soft, static crackle filled the air. The System had appeared on its own. It sounded almost embarrassed, its voice low. “I apologize for the intrusion, Host. I am here to remind you. You have ten minutes before you must detach from this world. For the sake of a clean narrative resolution, your departure must be facilitated through the method of death.” My mother didn’t speak. She turned and looked at me. Then she slowly walked over, a sad smile on her face. She pulled me into a fierce hug and kissed my cheek. A single tear fell onto my skin. “Anya,” she whispered. “Go back to your room and sleep now.” Ten minutes later, I was sitting on my bed, wrapped in a blanket. A shadow fell past my window. 5 Was I sad? Of course. But more than that, I was relieved for her. My mom was finally going home. Even though I was only eight, I could tell how unhappy she was. Sometimes I would wake up in the middle of the night and find her sitting on her bed, crying silently in the dark. I think if it weren’t for me, she would have left a long time ago. I don’t know what her world was like, but it couldn’t be worse than this one. There, she could be free. She could be whatever she wanted to be. Before she was my mother, she was herself. Maybe that’s why, when the police officer told me my mother had jumped to her death, I didn’t cry. I didn’t show any sadness. I didn’t say a word. I just stood there like a cold, unfeeling machine. I heard whispers around me. “Is that really the mother who killed herself?” “She seems so calm.” “She doesn’t look like a normal seven or eight-year-old. Is there something wrong with her?” … I looked up. Mike was there. His eyes were red, and he was shaking as he walked toward me. He raised his hand. And slapped me across the face. “She told you the System was taking her away. Anya. Didn’t you even try to stop her? You haven’t shed a single tear. Is your blood cold?” 6 The police had called him. At first, he refused to believe my mother would actually leave. He argued with them on the phone for a long time. It wasn’t until he arrived and saw the body under the white sheet that the reality crashed down on him. My father completely fell apart. I had never seen him like that. So broken, so pathetic, so full of disbelief. He was a man with endless money, the master of a billion-dollar empire. But in that moment, he was just a man crying with regret and cowardice. He didn’t dare pull back the sheet. He was afraid. Afraid to see her face. Afraid to be reminded that he had missed his last chance to see her. He couldn’t accept it. So when someone tried to comfort him, reminding him that he still had a child, my father finally remembered. Oh, right. I have a daughter. He stood up. And turned his rage on me. “Why didn’t you keep her here? Why? Couldn’t you have cried? Begged? Pleaded with her? Were you mute?” 7 Mike didn’t take me home with him. I may have only been eight, but I wasn’t stupid. I could see the coldness, the distance, the pure hatred in his eyes. From that day on, he wanted nothing to do with me. I only saw him a few days a month, when I was sent to the old family mansion. Most of the time, I lived in my mother’s old apartment, cared for by a nanny. He didn’t even come for my ninth birthday. It was my first birthday without my mother. The nanny was already asleep in her room. I was all alone. I wanted to call Mike, but I was afraid of bothering him. So I just sat on the floor, going through the presents my mother had given me over the years. And that’s when it happened. I discovered that I could connect to the System, too. A strange voice emanated from the jade pendant around my neck. “Hello, Host. I am System 0231, taking over for System 0230. My files indicate that today is your birthday.” 8 ??? Host? I froze. “Me?” I whispered. “I’m a Host? I get my own System?” It took a moment to sink in. I fumbled with the clasp and took the pendant off. The voice was definitely coming from it. It sounded like a boy, maybe a teenager, with a clear, deep voice. He was different from my mother’s System. Less serious, and much gentler. He paused for a moment before answering me. “Yes. This is because of your mother, Elara. She was an exceptional agent. She gave more, and lost more, than most. According to regulations, she earned tens of millions of mission points, which could have been converted into cash and taken back to her original world…” “But she gave it all up.” “Your mother said she was afraid you would be lonely, that you would be sad, that no one would take care of you… so instead of taking anything for herself, she chose to leave a System for you, too.” “She hoped you would feel like she was still with you.” 9 I clutched the pendant. And finally, the tears came. I hadn’t cried when my mother left. But now, I couldn’t stop them. The reality hit me with the force of a physical blow. My mother was really gone. And she had left me everything she possibly could. The System asked, “Host, would you like to make a birthday wish?” I wiped my tears. I clasped my hands together and said, each word deliberate, “I hope my mom is happy and joyful in her world.” After a long pause, I added another wish, in a voice so quiet it was barely a whisper. “And I hope my father knows… it wasn’t my fault my mom died. I’m not a bad kid. I hope he stops hating me.” 10 My father seemed to forget he had a daughter. For the first few years, he’d still have me over to the mansion occasionally. But eventually, even that stopped. The rumors said he had gotten back together with her—the woman who had driven my mother away. He bought a beautiful penthouse near his office and moved Seraphina and her daughter in. Time passes. Nothing stays the same. When my mother died, Mike had knelt on the ground, consumed by a regret so powerful it seemed it would swallow him whole. Now, even my nanny had heard the news. After serving my dinner, she gently stroked my hair. She hesitated, then tried to comfort me. “It’s okay, miss. The master has just lost his way. Once he figures things out, everything will be alright.” Figures things out? I wasn’t holding my breath. I just wished… I just wished I would never have to see Seraphina and Lora again. But it seemed even that simple wish was too much to ask for. 11 At fifteen, I tested into the city’s top high school. Two weeks into the semester, Mike pulled some strings and got Lora—who hadn’t even passed the standard entrance exams—a spot in my class. A Rolls-Royce dropped her off at the school gates. She was decked out in designer clothes from head to toe, looking every bit the part of a true heiress. She instantly became the center of attention. “Oh my god, are those the limited-edition sneakers?” “Is that an Hermès bag?” “…She’s so rich. Does anyone know whose daughter she is?” … As if hearing their whispers, Lora stood at the front of the class, a small smile playing on her lips, and began her introduction. “Well, my family is okay, I guess. You’ve probably heard of them. My dad is Mike Reed, the CEO of Reed Corp. My mom is his childhood sweetheart. My dad loves my mom so much, he even let me take her last name.” After she finished, dozens of heads swiveled in my direction. On the school’s mandatory family information form, under the “Father” section, I had also written “Mike Reed.” The class president had glanced at my form when he collected it. “Mike Reed? The billionaire? Then why are your clothes so plain? And I’ve never seen anyone drop you off or pick you up. Are you really his only daughter?” Under the weight of their questioning stares, I had lowered my head, clutching my pencil. “Yes,” I’d whispered. “But he’s very busy… really, really busy.” Now, looks of dawning comprehension spread across their faces. The whispers started again. “Liar.” “How pathetic. Why would someone pretend to be someone else’s daughter? Is she ashamed of her own dad?” “Awkward. Getting called out by the real thing.” “Hilarious.” … The cruel laughter washed over me. I was just about to go numb when the boy sitting behind me suddenly stood up. He slammed his hand on his desk. “Is this really necessary? Who cares who her parents are? It’s none of your business!” 12 I was always quiet, always kept to myself. That was the first day I learned his name. Leo. He had one of the top scores in the city. He was smart, popular, and came from a wealthy family. He was a ray of sunshine. His father ran a media conglomerate. His outburst silenced the class. The teacher finally arrived, blissfully unaware of the drama. “Find an empty seat so we can get started,” he told Lora. The “real” heiress smiled sweetly. She walked down the aisle and stopped next to Leo. “Can I be your deskmate?” she asked, her voice soft and cloying. “Please?” 13 After school, Leo caught up with me. I didn’t understand why a rich kid like him would insist on riding the crowded city bus with me, getting jostled by commuters, just to explain something so trivial. “The teacher made her sit next to me,” he said, breathless. “There weren’t many other empty seats. It’s not like I wanted her to…” I just nodded. He glanced at me, trying to read my expression. “I saw your exam scores. Your math is a little weak. I could help you, if you want. I’m pretty good at it.” … After a moment of silence, he scratched his nose and asked casually, “So, Anya… why did you write that on the form?” Oh. So he thought I was a liar, just like everyone else. But for some reason, in that moment, I refused to let it go. I turned and looked him straight in the eye. “Why? Because Mike Reed is my biological father. My mother was his legal wife. According to the law, whose name am I supposed to write? I think I’m being a lot more honest than some people.” The bus screeched to a halt at my stop. I didn’t look at Leo again. I just pushed my way through the crowd and got off. But to my surprise, he followed me. His house was still another thirty minutes away. He ran after me, grabbing my sleeve. He looked so guilty, like he knew he’d messed up. He kept apologizing. “Please forgive me, Anya. I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad, okay?” 14 I didn’t have many friends in high school. For three years, I was basically an outcast. Lora had her own little clique, and her mother, Seraphina, had somehow gotten a seat on the school’s board of directors. So even though Lora’s grades were terrible, no one dared to cross her. Only Leo, who came from an equally powerful family, paid her no mind. And only he ignored the stares and the whispers and always chose to be with me. We walked to and from the bus stop together. We studied together. I was so used to being alone that I was cold to him at first. He’d often look at me with puppy-dog eyes. “Anya, are you still mad at me for what I said that first day? You can hit me if it’ll make you feel better.” Eventually, I softened. And as I did, he talked more and more. “Let’s go see a movie this weekend.” “My dad’s client gave us some concert tickets. Are you interested?” “There’s a new barbecue place downtown everyone’s talking about. Wanna try it? My treat.” … In our final semester, with the college entrance exams looming, he brought it up casually one day. “Anya, where are you applying to college? Let’s go to the same city.” He grinned, his eyes bright and confident. “Because… I think… I’m starting to, uh, like you. A lot. So, what do you say? College together?” My head snapped up. I stared at him, stunned. The sunlight was streaming through the window, dappling our desks. A breeze rustled the pages of my workbook. I had no idea how to respond. After a long moment, I twisted the pen in my fingers and mumbled, “You know we can get in trouble for talking about this stuff at school.” Leo just threw his head back and laughed. He reached out and ruffled my hair. “Okay. I’ll save those words for after graduation then. The day our exams are over, you wait for me. I’ll come find you, Anya.” In that moment, I reached out my hand. I thought I had caught the sunlight. It was only later, looking back, that I realized the light had never been shining on me at all. 15 That night, I took out my pendant and told the System everything about Leo. He had told me he’d be busy for a while, dealing with something important, but that I could leave him messages. He’d investigate any questions I had when he got back. Over the years, even with the nanny, the System had become my constant companion. He taught me everything—how to ride a bike, how to cook instant noodles, how to use the washing machine. I held the pendant and whispered, “What do you think of Leo?” There was no answer. The System wasn’t back yet. “I think he’s pretty great,” I said to myself. “After the exams, I’ll go find him.” Leo and I were at different testing centers. After my last exam, I got on the bus and followed my usual route home, piecing together the location of his house from the little details he’d let slip in our conversations. There was only one gated community of mansions in that area. I stood outside the main gate and pulled out my phone. I was going to call him. He had said he would find me after the exams. But if I went to find him… it was the same thing, right? I found his number and was just about to press call when I heard his voice. It came from just a short distance away. “What are you doing here? I told you I was busy today.” My head snapped up. A girl was standing in front of him, laughing. “Busy with what? Going to find that bastard’s daughter?” It was Lora. 16 They were standing inside the gates of the community, separated from me by a world of wrought iron. Leo’s brow was furrowed in annoyance. “Are you serious? You can’t actually be falling for her, can you? We had a deal. Just play around with her, make her fall for you, and then dump her hard.” Lora took a step forward and poked him in the shoulder. “Don’t forget, Leo. You and I are the ones who grew up together. And your dad’s company still does business with mine, so don’t get any ideas, big shot…” Leo’s face darkened. He stepped back, putting distance between them. After a long moment, he bit out a single, clipped word. “Leave.” I clutched my phone, suddenly grateful I hadn’t made that call. How humiliating would that have been? Lora pouted, then huffed. She started to walk away, then turned back. “Fine, fine, have it your way. But don’t forget, our families are having dinner tonight to celebrate. You can’t bail on that.” 17 I rode the bus home alone. All along the route, there were banners celebrating the end of the exams. The bus passed a bakery with a sale sign in the window. I got off and went inside, choosing a simple cream cake with no decorations. The girl at the counter saw my school uniform and smiled. “Just finished your exams? Buying a cake to celebrate? Or is it for a birthday? Do you want me to write anything on it?” If she hadn’t mentioned it, I would have forgotten myself. Tomorrow was my eighteenth birthday. For years, my birthdays had been quiet affairs. My mother was gone, my father was absent, and I had no friends. It was always just me, the nanny, and the System. But this year, the nanny was sick and had gone back to her hometown, and the System was away. My coming-of-age ceremony was shaping up to be just like the rest of my life. Lonely and quiet. I managed a small smile and shook my head. “No, thank you. It’s just for a post-dinner snack.” That was the night I received the video call from Lora. My screen filled with her face, then my father’s, then Leo’s. They were all there, like a real family, sitting together, celebrating the end of the exams, celebrating the bright futures of their children. Lora’s voice was a triumphant sneer. “Look, it’s the jinx who killed her own mom.” Mike’s was a cold dismissal. “Don’t bother with her. She’s bad luck.” The call ended abruptly. And in the sudden silence, I heard a voice I hadn’t heard in months. It was the System. “Host, I’m back.”

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The day before our seven-year anniversary, I landed in Austin, ready to surprise my fiancé, Graham Prescott. After seven years of dating, this six-month leadership assignment was the last hurdle before our wedding. The last piece of his corporate “gilding” before he came home to New York for good. In the back of the rideshare, the driver, a talkative man with a thick Texas drawl, was giving me the rundown on the city. “You in town to see your fella, darlin’?” “Something like that,” I smiled. “Well, you picked a good time! Apex Holdings is throwin’ this massive ‘Austin in Love’ festival all week. Real romantic stuff, you know?” A sweet warmth spread through my chest. Apex was Graham’s company; he was the heir apparent. I nodded. “I’ve heard a little about it.” Suddenly, the driver pointed out the window. “Hey, look! That’s their big ad campaign. Features the golden boy himself, Graham Prescott, and his fiancée. Now that’s a power couple, huh?” I followed his finger. There, on a colossal digital billboard overlooking the highway, was Graham. He had a woman I’d never seen before wrapped in his arms, his mouth locked on hers in a passionate kiss that was anything but staged. Beneath the image, a single line of text burned into my retinas: AUSTIN IN LOVE: A MATCH MADE IN AUSTIN. I froze. It seemed my fiancé, in another city, also had a fiancée. I pulled out my phone and sent a single, terse message to my father. “Dad, pull the Apex investment.” 1 My phone buzzed. A message from Graham popped onto the screen. 【Hey, babe. Just finalized the design for the rings. This ‘Austin in Love’ launch is absolutely swamping me, so I can’t get away for our anniversary, I’m so sorry. I’ll be back in New York next week to make it up to you.】 He’d even attached a photo of the campaign’s event schedule, as if to prove his sincerity. A chill crept up my spine as my finger traced the edge of the screen. He was a phenomenal actor. The message was a masterclass in half-truths. The work was real. But so was the grand, city-wide romantic declaration he was orchestrating for another woman under the guise of that work. The car pulled up to the gleaming glass tower of the Apex Holdings Austin campus. As I stepped into the cavernous lobby, a wave of laughter echoed from the elevator bank. A group of impeccably dressed young women were fawning over a girl in the center of their circle, treating her like royalty. It was the girl from the billboard. Brielle. “Brielle, you’re just living a fairytale!” one of them gushed. “Seriously! To get Graham to announce your engagement with a campaign this huge… the entire city knows you’re his girl!” “And he’s the heir! We’re talking a nine-figure fortune, easy!” “This is the most romantic thing I’ve ever seen! Graham Prescott has to be the most devoted man in Austin!” “You’re so lucky. You start as an intern and a few months later you’re engaged to the boss. What a dream come true.” “Total Cinderella story! When you’re Mrs. Prescott, you can’t forget about us, okay?” A smug, self-satisfied smile played on Brielle’s lips, though she made a show of waving her hand dismissively. “Oh, you guys. Graham just loves a grand gesture. Don’t worry, once we’re married, I’ll be sure to put in a good word for all of you.” She winked. “The Director of Sales position is still open, right? Lexi, I think you’d be perfect for it.” The woman named Lexi beamed. “Oh my god, Brielle, thank you! I knew you were a real one!” The chorus of sycophantic praise swelled again. I stood off to the side, watching them, a silent observer to my own life’s demolition. Graham was… adequate. My father had never been impressed with him. He saw him as mediocre, coasting on his family name. That’s why my dad and I had made a deal: a seven-year trial period. Seven years to see if Graham’s character was true. Of course, Graham’s cunning old fox of a father had run a background check on me the moment I’d joined Apex. He’d approved of our engagement, then conveniently named his underperforming son as the heir, securing my family’s backing. It was a neat, tidy transaction for everyone. A shame Graham couldn’t keep up the act until the final curtain. Ding. An elevator arrived. I stepped forward, but a hand shot out and shoved me hard. I stumbled, catching myself just before I fell. “Watch it, newbie. Got eyes in your head?” The woman who pushed me was Lexi, her face a mask of contempt as she looked me up and down. “Don’t you know Brielle gets the first elevator? Learn the rules.” I straightened up, my gaze cold. No one, in my entire life, had ever told me to get out of their way. “It’s a public elevator. I was here first. Why should I wait?” Lexi puffed up, ready to argue, but Brielle cut her off, striding over with an impatient sigh. “Which department are you with? What’s your name?” she demanded, her tone dripping with authority. “Do you have any idea who I am? I’m Graham Prescott’s fiancée. The future Mrs. Prescott. And for your little back-talk just now, I could have you fired.” “Could you?” I reached into my purse, pulled out my corporate ID, and let it swing from my fingers in front of her face. “Josephine Cole. Director of Strategic Partnerships, Apex NYC.” I leaned in slightly. “So, I’m curious. On what authority, exactly, were you planning to fire me?” Brielle’s face went blank. She snatched the ID from my hand, her eyes scanning the text. “Jo-se-phine… Cole…” Suddenly, her head snapped up. Her face twisted into a snarl, and without warning, she swung. CRACK. The sound of her palm connecting with my cheek echoed through the silent lobby. Brielle’s features were contorted with rage. She pointed a trembling finger at my face. “So you’re the bitch from New York,” she screamed. “You’re the psycho who’s been stalking my fiancé! You goddamn, shameless homewrecker! You actually followed him to Austin?” 2 The commotion drew a crowd. The lobby, once a quiet corporate thoroughfare, was now buzzing with whispers and stares. “Stalking Graham Prescott? Is she serious? She’s a director from the New York office, isn’t she?” “You never know. Looks can be deceiving.” Brielle’s voice rose, thick with indignation. “Of course it’s true! Graham’s told me everything!” She held her phone up like a trophy. “He said there was this girl from college, an old colleague, who thought that just because she was senior and closed a few big deals, she could force herself on him! He said he didn’t want to make a scene, so he put in for the transfer to Austin just to get away from her!” Her voice dripped with manufactured pity. “And this pathetic woman actually followed him all the way here! She’s obsessed!” Brielle angled her phone so a few people nearby could see the screen. “Look! These are messages from Graham himself!” 【Babe, Josephine used another deal to try and pressure me today. It’s driving me crazy.】 【She’s a top performer, so my dad loves her. Otherwise, I would’ve had her fired months ago.】 【She cornered me today with some bullshit about a quarterly report. If we weren’t at the office, I swear I would’ve lost it on her.】 【She’s a fucking psycho. I feel like she’s suffocating me.】 【Thank God I came to Austin and met you. You’re my salvation.】 【Babe, being with you is the only time I feel like I can breathe.】 Every word was a lie, a twisted inversion of our life together. Each one a dagger in my heart. He claimed I used my work to harass him. He claimed every day with me was a living hell. He claimed I was a disgusting, obsessive stalker he couldn’t shake. I joined Apex because he told me he’d found the perfect job for me, a place where we could be close. I didn’t mind starting at the bottom, working my way up. I pushed myself, shattered sales records, and became a top performer to prove to my father that my choice in a man was sound. My seven years of youth, of companionship, of devotion… In his narrative, it was nothing more than seven years of harassment. Seven years of me pathetically throwing myself at him. I was the punchline to a joke I never knew was being told. My hands clenched into fists, the blood rushing to my head. The crowd’s murmurs exploded into open condemnation. “Oh my God, so that’s the real story! Poor Graham!” “She looks so put-together, so professional. You’d never guess she was that shameless behind the scenes.” “What makes her think a man like Graham would ever be interested in her? She could chase him for a million years and it wouldn’t happen.” “Right? Our Brielle is beautiful, kind, from a good family. She and Graham are the perfect match!” “Quick, get a picture! Send it to the company group chat! Let everyone see what kind of trash the New York office sends over!” Phones were raised, cameras flashing, immortalizing my humiliation for group chats and gossip-hungry friends. Lexi, Brielle’s sycophant, sneered at me. “You hear that, stalker? Get the hell out!” “Apex doesn’t welcome degenerates like you!” My fists tightened, my nails digging into my palms, then slowly relaxed. “Are you finished?” I asked, my voice dangerously quiet. “How do you know he’s telling the truth?” “Did he forget to mention that back in college, he was the one who begged me to be his girlfriend? That he stood outside my dorm with flowers for three months before I finally said yes?” 3 Brielle let out a sharp, derisive laugh. Her friends joined in, a chorus of mockery. “Graham chased you? Are you delusional?” She gestured dramatically towards the giant billboard outside. “Do you see that? The entire city of Austin knows that I, Brielle, am Graham’s fiancée. In what dream did he ever chase you? Should I call you an ambulance? Get you a psych evaluation?” The chatter from the onlookers grew louder, more pointed. “Yeah, delusions are a real illness. She needs help.” “And she’s a director from New York? Looks more like she escaped from a mental hospital.” Brielle’s smile faded, replaced by a cold hardness. “Graham is a good man. He’s too kind to put you in your place. But I’m not.” “Today,” she said, her voice low and menacing, “I’m going to teach you a lesson on his behalf, you shameless, pathetic woman.” Before the last word left her mouth, her hand was flying towards my face again. I was ready this time, sidestepping the blow. My evasion seemed to enrage her further. “You dare to dodge? Grab her!” Lexi and two others from Brielle’s posse lunged forward, seizing my arms in painful grips. I struggled, but another woman came from behind, twisting my arms behind my back and shoving me forward, holding me fast. “It’s broad daylight! You’re going to assault someone in the middle of a corporate lobby?” I spat. “What if I am?” Brielle stepped up to me, patting my cheek with a condescending rhythm. Her eyes gleamed with triumph. “I’m going to be Mrs. Graham Prescott. The queen of Apex. In Austin, if I want to teach someone a lesson, who’s going to stop me?” She savored my helplessness, her gaze raking over me before settling on my face. “This face… this is your biggest asset, isn’t it? The tool you use to seduce men?” Her lips curled into a cruel smile. “Today, I’m going to ruin it for you. Let’s see who you try to seduce after this.” CRACK! CRACK! Two slaps, hard and vicious, rocked my head back. My ears rang, a dizzying white noise filling my senses. My cheeks burned with a fiery pain, and the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. I lifted my head, meeting her gaze with a burning intensity. “You will regret this.” Brielle laughed, a loud, ugly sound. She clutched her chest theatrically. “Regret it? Oh, I’m so scared. What’s a pathetic stalker that Graham threw away going to do to make me regret it? Seduce another man with that face you’re about to have rearranged? You’re a disgrace to women everywhere.” “She really is. Someone should just put her out of her misery,” Lexi added. The insults washed over me, a tide of venom. Just then, my phone began to ring from inside my jacket pocket. Brielle nodded at Lexi, who expertly fished the phone out and handed it over with a fawning smile. “It’s for you, Brielle.” Brielle glanced at the screen, a look of pure contempt on her face. “Oh, what’s this? Calling for backup?” She turned the screen towards me, her expression a mask of sadistic amusement. The caller ID showed a single, simple name. Dad. Brielle’s mocking smile widened. “Aww, is it your daddy? Does he know his precious little girl is out here acting like a common slut, throwing herself at engaged men?” I decided to bait the hook. “You shouldn’t answer that. You can’t afford the consequences.” “Ha!” she scoffed. “Not only am I going to answer it, I’m putting it on speaker. Let’s let your daddy hear what a worthless daughter he raised!”

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On my wedding day, my groom walked out mid-ceremony, and the entire event had to be paused. I waited, my heart full of hope, for him to return. Instead, my phone buzzed first. It was a notification from the city parking authority. In the attached photo, my Porsche was illegally parked, and through the windshield, you could clearly see two bodies, tangled together. It turned out my husband already had a new wife. I dismissed the guests, ended the wedding, tossed the ring, and, without a single tear, walked away from our seven-year relationship. I vanished from his world. And Landon, unable to find me, proceeded to lose his mind. … 1 When I got the parking violation email, I was numb for a second. I stared at it. The photo was clear. My car, parked on a side street. Through the glass, I could see the pale tangle of two bodies, a sight so visceral it hit me in the gut. I couldn’t process it. The man who had just been standing at the altar with me was, at this very moment, in my car with someone else. The wedding had reached the ring exchange. Landon took a call, didn’t say a word, and just… left. He left me alone to face the whispers of our guests, completely indifferent to how helpless an introvert like me would feel in that spotlight. As his legal wife, I didn’t even get an explanation. Just a text, thirty minutes later: “Tied up.” Two words. That was the charity he offered me. My hand trembled as I typed back, “Okay.” I thought I’d be stronger. I thought I’d forward him the picture and demand to know why. But I was too conditioned. Conditioned to agree, to accept, to endlessly retreat. The graphic image on my phone made my stomach churn, and I ran to the bathroom, vomiting into a potted plant. This time, I was truly exhausted. Seven years of being in love, seven years of being the one who always tried. In our long-distance race, Landon was always the one in the lead, and I was always changing myself to keep up. Because he didn’t want a long-distance relationship, I left my parents in California and moved to his city, New York. Because he had bad acid reflux, I stopped eating spicy food. No more hot wings, no more Thai. I learned to cook the bland, boring meals he required. I used to be my parents’ whole world. Their precious daughter who never had to lift a finger. I looked down at my hands. They were covered in rough, yellowing calluses. The skin was so coarse that the dry autumn air would split it open. No amount of expensive lotion could hide what they’d become. On my left ring finger, a plain, unadorned band was stuck, painfully tight. It was my wedding ring. When he’d put it on me, it was clearly the wrong size. It wouldn’t go on. Landon, shoving it forcefully, muttered, “You eat too much. Even the custom ring doesn’t fit. Now I’ll have to get it resized. More money, more time.” It’s hard to believe those words came from a CEO worth hundreds of millions. He forgot. He forgot we’d measured my finger in the fall. He forgot that because he refused to fix the broken hot water in our kitchen sink, my hands were constantly in ice-cold water all winter, and my fingers would swell up, red and raw. I’d asked him so many times to call a plumber. He’d just shrugged. “I use the dishwasher. Why fix it?” He never once asked if I needed it. Landon finally managed to jam the ring on, but I thought my finger was going to break. It was bright red, the ring stuck halfway between my knuckle and fingertip, unmoving. The skin around it was already turning a purplish color from the lack of circulation. He didn’t care. His face just showed the relief of having completed a task. 2 When it was my turn to give him his ring, he was gone. I stared at the band cutting into my flesh. It was me who wore the ring, and it was me who was trapped, unable to escape this relationship. I thought my sacrifices would be enough to save this broken, decaying love. Now I saw there was no point. I picked up the microphone and faced our guests, my voice suddenly strong and clear. “Landon and I are getting divorced. This isn’t a wedding, it’s a divorce party. The reception is our break-up dinner. Please, eat, drink, and then go home.” I turned and walked away, leaving Landon’s stunned family and friends behind. We’d been legally married at city hall for a while; his family knew that. But the wedding itself kept getting postponed for one reason or another. I was the one who had practically begged him for this ceremony. I should have known. A wedding no one else wants isn’t worth having. I changed out of the wedding dress and went straight to the nearest fire station. As the firefighter used a small cutting tool, he winced. “Ma’am, this ring is way too small. How did your husband even get this on? Your finger’s purple. This must have hurt like hell.” I could only offer a bitter smile. Anyone could see it didn’t fit. Landon just didn’t care. He only cared about his childhood sweetheart, Mia. When the ring was finally cut, and the blood rushed back into my finger, I took the two halves of the band and dropped them into the nearest trash can. Just like this rotten relationship. I was done with it. I took a deep breath and called my parents in California. The moment I heard my mom’s voice, all the pain I’d been holding back surged up. My eyes filled with tears. I wanted to say so much, but all that came out was, “Mom, I miss you.” She knew instantly. “Grace. Did Landon do something to you?” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. Maybe it’s a mother’s intuition. “Mom, I want a divorce,” I choked out. “As soon as I get things settled here, I’m coming home.” “Okay, baby. I’m waiting for you. You know Mom will always support you.” I hadn’t asked them to fly out for the wedding, telling them it was too rushed. The truth was, I was afraid for them to see how little he valued me. Every time we talked, I’d repeat the same two lines: “I’m doing great. Landon is wonderful to me.” I couldn’t say more. I couldn’t invent details of a happiness I’d never experienced. Back at our apartment, I looked at the home I’d decorated. All the celebratory white roses and silk felt suffocating. My heart seized, and finally, I collapsed and let myself sob. You can’t force someone to love you. Why even try? After I’d cried it all out, I opened a suitcase. I was shocked to find that my belongings barely filled it. Most of the things in this apartment were “couple’s” items I’d bought. His-and-hers slippers. His-and-hers mugs. His-and-hers bathrobes. All of it had to go. Halfway through packing, I realized I didn’t have to cook. I ordered the spiciest Thai food I could find. Extra chili, extra peanut sauce. I’d been eating bland food for so long to accommodate Landon. Tonight, I was eating what I wanted. I had just finished packing when someone knocked on the door. I opened it. Landon stood there, holding my takeout bag with an impatient look on his face. The sight of him in his immaculate tailored suit holding a cheap bag of takeout was almost funny. 3 Before I could speak, he launched his attack. “This is what you’re feeding me?” I glanced at my phone. Thirty minutes ago, he’d sent me a text. “Make dinner.” Two words. A simple command. I was about to remind him he couldn’t eat this, but I turned and saw he was already at the table, digging in. The custom suit, the high-end watch, and the cheap plastic container. It was ridiculous. I’d forgotten. It wasn’t that he couldn’t eat it. It was that I cared more about his health than he did, so I’d policed it for him. He finished eating just as I came out of the bathroom holding the “his-and-hers” toothbrush holder. He glanced at it, his eyes full of disdain. “What is that? It’s hideous. Don’t tell me you expect me to use that.” “You’re right. It’s disgusting. So ugly it makes me sick.” I forced a smile and, right in front of him, threw it into the trash can. Along with this putrid, rotting love. I was done. Landon was clearly not expecting that. He finally realized I might actually be angry. He crossed the room in two long strides, wrapped his arms around my waist, and buried his head in my neck, hanging on me like a koala. Any other time, I would have melted. This time, my hands hung limp at my sides. The second he touched me, I went rigid. Goosebumps rose on my skin where he held me. That image—the photo from the parking ticket—flashed in my mind. I felt sick all over again. I stiffened my back, pushing him away until I could break his hold. Sensing my rejection, the flicker of tenderness on Landon’s face vanished, replaced by a cold annoyance. “Grace, stop being angry. I really had an emergency this afternoon. Look, I brought you a present.” He dangled a butterfly necklace from his fingers. It was covered in diamonds, sparkling under the light. Except, on the bottom right wing, a few of the stones were missing. I had just seen the “perfect” version of it on Instagram. On Mia’s feed. Her caption read: Landon got me this butterfly necklace. So tacky. I literally threw it in the trash. He took me right to Tiffany’s to pick out something else. ❤️ She’d posted pictures. The necklace, perfect. And then the necklace, lying in a public trash can. Landon had fished it out of the garbage to bring home to me. He was staring at my face. “You’ve been crying.” I hadn’t followed his train of thought. He pointed to my swollen eyes. “Just got dust in my eye while I was cleaning.” It was a pathetic excuse, but I knew Landon wouldn’t question it. He didn’t care enough to. I grabbed the “his-and-hers” towels off the rack. “Are these towels kind of ugly, too? Let’s just toss them.” They were pink and blue, with little cartoon versions of us embroidered on them. It had taken me weeks to find someone to custom-make them. Maybe my quiet resistance was finally getting to him. He just sighed and agreed. “Yeah, they’re pretty ugly.” The truth was, I had chosen every single thing in this apartment with care. I loved them all. But affection that isn’t returned is just a burden. Landon frowned, sensing something was wrong. He looked me up and down, and his gaze landed on the suitcase by the door. 4 “Are you going somewhere?” My palms started to sweat. I was terrified he’d figure it out. “I just realized how much ugly stuff we have,” I said, trying to sound casual. “It’s too much to throw out bit by bit, so I figured I’d pack it all in a suitcase and donate it to Goodwill.” The excuse was flimsy. Landon was still thinking when his phone rang. That damned, inconvenient phone. I saw the flicker of panic in his eyes. I knew exactly who it was. He hung up and, just like that, he had to leave again. As he was walking out, he paused and looked back at me, a strange look on his face. Was it… reluctance? I reached out and took the necklace from him, forcing the most understanding smile I could. “If you have to go, go. Don’t worry about me. I get it. I’m not mad.” The old me would have thrown a fit, begging him not to go. But now, I just didn’t care. This was the me he always wanted, right? He stepped forward and placed a kiss on my forehead. “If I knew a wedding would make you this obedient, I would’ve done it years ago. I’ll make it up to you when I get back.” If I knew loving you would be this painful, I thought, I would have never met you. He pressed a black card into my hand. “Throw out everything you don’t want. Buy new stuff.” The things I don’t want. Yes. It’s time to throw them out. The moment the door closed, I ran to the bathroom and scrubbed my forehead until it was raw, trying to get the feel of him off me. The next week was quiet. And full. I hired a lawyer, drafted the divorce agreement, cleared out the apartment, and transferred all my work files. Seven years of love was like a brand on my skin. Tearing it off was going to hurt, but it was better than the constant, burning pain of keeping it. Landon didn’t come home for days. His “best friend” Mia was in the hospital. She’d had a severe allergic reaction. The spicy Thai food I’d ordered that night was loaded with peanut sauce. Mia was deathly allergic to peanuts. It wasn’t hard to figure out. Landon ate my takeout, then went and kissed Mia, putting her in the ICU. And just like that, he was back to being ice-cold toward me. I called him once, just to ask when he’d be home so I could give him the divorce papers. He just yelled at me. “Grace, can you just leave me alone for one second? Mia is in the hospital because of you! I didn’t know you were this petty and jealous. We’re just friends! I married you, we had the wedding, what more do you want? For me to be chained to you 24/7? Can’t you just be generous and be nice to Mia for once?” Generous? How generous? Generous enough to hand my husband over to another woman? I couldn’t before. But now, I could. I could hear a weak female voice in the background, telling him not to be angry, that it wasn’t my fault. “Grace, Mia is literally in a hospital bed because of you, and she’s still defending you! Can you just be a decent human being and leave her alone?” He sounded disgusted with me. If you hadn’t eaten my dinner and then gone to kiss her, she wouldn’t be in the hospital. Who, exactly, is refusing to let go of whom? But I just apologized. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ll come to the hospital tomorrow and apologize to Mia.” An apology wouldn’t kill me. After all, I didn’t care anymore. And soon, none of this would be my problem.

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My wife and I were a power couple. Ten years of what I thought was love. That illusion shattered the day her boy toy stormed into my office behind her back. The young man’s arrogance was suffocating. “Claire will kick an old man like you to the curb for me, sooner or later.” I couldn’t have cared less. In fact, I turned right around, told my wife I wanted a divorce, and threw her out of the company. Suddenly, she was panicking, forcing her little lover to his knees in front of me, begging for my forgiveness. 1 “You’ve got no looks and no talent. What right do you have to monopolize Claire for a decade?” “Claire said she’s giving me the villa at The Water’s Edge. She knows you wanted it, but she gave it to me anyway. It’s only a matter of time before she kicks an old man like you to the curb for me.” Leo leaned over my desk, his hands braced on the polished mahogany, looking down at me with contempt. The Claire he was talking about, Claire Thornton, was my wife of ten years. Just a few days ago, a friend had given me a subtle warning. “Claire’s been getting awfully close to a new employee. Want me to take care of him for you?” He’d slid a folder of photos across the table. In them, Claire and Leo weren’t overly intimate. The most damning picture was of Leo’s hand on the small of her back as he held an umbrella for her in the rain. I glanced at them, neither accepting nor refusing my friend’s offer. After a decade together, I wasn’t going to resort to such ugly tactics. So I gave her three days. Three days to cut ties with Leo, and I would pretend it never happened. She agreed without a moment’s hesitation, her voice thick with guilt. “I’m so sorry I made you worry. It’s my fault.” And now, here was her lover, parading his arrogance in my office. The Water’s Edge was prime real estate—exclusive, private, the perfect place to hide a secret. Was Claire planning on keeping a lover? A wave of revulsion washed over me as I looked at Leo. My decision was instant. I picked up my phone and called Claire, telling her to get to my office. Immediately. Leo stared at me in disbelief, then burst out laughing. “Who do you think Claire is? Some stray you can just whistle for? Calling her over will only make her despise you more!” I ignored him, pulling a cigarette from my desk drawer and lighting it. Leo coughed dramatically, then had the audacity to try and snatch it from my hand. “I can’t stand the smell of smoke. Put it out!” The moment his hand shot forward, I flicked the cigarette twice. The hot ash landed squarely on his arm. He yelped and recoiled, staring at me like I was insane. “You son of a bitch, you burned me!” He lunged, aiming to punch me, but my free hand shot out and slammed him to the floor. Twenty years of professional combat training made dealing with a preening pretty boy like him effortless. He was howling on the ground when the office door swung open. Leo’s eyes lit up. He scrambled to his feet and clung to Claire’s leg, sobbing. “Claire, you’re finally here! Julian burned me with his cigarette, and then he hit me!” Claire’s brow furrowed—her classic tell for annoyance. She looked at me, her eyes a mixture of guilt and anger, as if furious that I’d embarrassed her by roughing up her pet project in public. “Julian, he’s my employee, you can’t just—” “Don’t,” I cut her off, my voice ice. “Don’t you dare lecture me. He wouldn’t have made it past security without the access you gave him. Claire, have I been too good to you all these years?” In our entire relationship, I had never raised my voice to her. Even when she made mistakes, I was the one who calmly cleaned up her messes. I would never have publicly humiliated her like this. Those simple words made her eyes flash with shame and fury. “You… you’ve gone too far!” Leo, seeing her anger, immediately fanned the flames. “Exactly, Claire! He clearly has no respect for you, or he’d never say something like that.” He thought he was stoking her rage against me. He didn’t expect her to violently shake his hand off. “Who the hell gave you permission to speak?” she snapped, her voice dripping with scorn. “What are you that you think you can lecture me?” I wasn’t surprised. After ten years of marriage, no one knew Claire better than I did. She could coddle Leo, spoil him like a pet, but she would never let him jeopardize her interests. Our marriage was as much a business merger as it was a romance. If it fractured, the fallout would be catastrophic for both of us. In the end, the only person Claire truly loved was herself. Her anger at me now was purely because I had embarrassed her—I had kicked her dog without asking the owner. The cigarette burned down to the filter. I crushed it out in the ashtray. “I gave you three days to handle him,” I said, my voice flat. “You didn’t.” Claire took a few steps closer, her voice softening. “I was wrong, okay? If you don’t like him, I’ll get rid of him. Why stoop to his level?” She glanced over her shoulder, her tone turning cold. “You. Apologize to Mr. Shaw.” Leo stared at her, then at me, his pretty eyes welling up with tears. “Now!” Claire repeated, her patience gone. He scrubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand, his voice thick with resentment. “I’m sorry.” Claire finally smiled, gently shaking my arm. “See? He apologized. Let’s just drop it. If you’re still upset, you can go find another woman. We can play our separate games.” She was protecting him, trying to smooth things over. But I don’t tolerate sand in my eyes. I had given her a chance because I still had feelings for her, and because, technically, she hadn’t crossed the line. Flirting was one thing. An affair was another. But now, my decision was made. I pulled my arm from her grasp, my voice laced with disgust. “Separate games? You think you’re worthy?” Claire froze, her expression hardening. “Julian, I admit you’re more capable than I am, but I’m no pushover. I run nearly half of this company’s operations. I’m offering you an out; you should take it. We’re adults. We both know that monogamy is a myth. I have money and status now. I can have any man I want. This attitude of yours will only hurt the company.” Her voice grew sharper with every word, ending in a cold sneer. “Besides, how would you benefit from a divorce? I’d advise you not to push your luck.” I swiveled in my chair and sighed. I had fallen for Claire because of that fierce confidence, that courage. I admired her pride and her talent. But she didn’t understand. The company had grown far beyond what her abilities could manage. “You still don’t get it, do you? I don’t tolerate betrayal.” I paused, my voice dropping. “No matter how much I loved you, I will not have a wife who cheapens herself with trash like that.” Claire’s hands clenched into fists, her face crimson with rage. “You’re calling me cheap?” She grabbed my collar, her knuckles white. My eyes drifted calmly from Leo back to her, a mocking smile on my lips. “You’re willing to associate with vermin like him. What does that make you?” “Claire, I’m done talking. My lawyer will have the divorce papers on your desk tomorrow. We’re finished.” Her lips trembled, and her grip on my collar slackened. She stumbled back, repeating my words in disbelief. “You… you want to divorce me?” “I won’t accept it!” I gave her a cold look. “It’s already done. What makes you think you have a choice?” I had meetings to attend. I wasn’t about to let this melodrama derail the entire company. I stood up and walked toward the door. Claire tried to follow, but Leo grabbed her arm. “Claire, if you go after him now, he’ll know you can’t live without him!” he hissed. “You’re amazing! You can have any man you want. That old fool doesn’t appreciate you! Besides, you’re the majority shareholder. You can just fire him and become the sole boss!” His words actually made her stop. I walked into the conference room without a backward glance and started the meeting. It was ten p.m. by the time I got home. My phone was ringing incessantly. Claire. I ignored it. She called again. And again. Finally, I answered. “Julian! Come get me,” she slurred, her voice thick with alcohol. The background noise was a deafening wall of electronic music. My first instinct was to hang up. But we were still legally married. If something happened to her, it would be my problem. I grabbed my keys and drove to the bar. The moment I stepped into the private room, a bucket of water crashed down on my head. I dodged, but not fast enough. My shirt was soaked. The metal bucket clattered to the floor, rolling to a stop at Claire’s feet. She was draped over Leo, her arms around his neck, her eyes full of defiance. “Julian, I thought you wanted a divorce. Why did you come running the second I called?” she taunted. “The great Julian Shaw, pathetic as a stray dog you can’t get rid of.” Leo roared with laughter. “Not a stray dog, a drowned rat! Hahahaha!” I took a deep breath, trying to hold on to my last shred of reason. As I turned to leave, Leo leaped off the sofa and grabbed my arm. “Did I say you could leave?” he snarled. “You hit me today. Now we settle the score.” His fist came flying at me. I sidestepped and threw him to the ground. This time, I didn’t hold back. He hit the floor hard, a line of blood trickling from his nose. Claire screamed. “Julian! How dare you hit him again! Do you want to be thrown out of this company?” She raised her hand to slap me, but I caught her wrist and flung it away. I had no idea what nonsense Leo had been feeding her, but it had clearly worked. Leo staggered to his feet. “Stop pretending you’re so noble,” he spat. “You only came running because you’re desperate to keep your job. One word from Claire, and you’re out on the street!” I straightened my disheveled collar as my assistant arrived with a fresh shirt. Their childish provocations were laughable. “Go on then,” I said. “Try me.” The next day at the office, everyone stared at me. I walked calmly to my office, only to find all my belongings piled up outside the door. Leo was lounging in my chair, his feet propped up on my desk. He whistled when he saw me. “You’re fired!” That’s when I noticed the company-wide email from Claire, announcing my termination. In the same breath, she had appointed Leo as the new CEO. I remembered her threats from last night and almost laughed. For years, I had worked in the shadows, quietly building the empire and letting her take all the credit. I had paved the way for her to live out her dream of being a powerful businesswoman. And to protect her from whispers that she’d slept her way to the top, I never let anyone know the extent of my involvement. Only a handful of major shareholders knew who really held the reins. As soon as Claire appeared, they descended. “Claire! You can’t fire Julian! He’s the heart of this company, our cornerstone!” “That’s right! We’d be nowhere without him!” Claire’s lips curled into a cold smile. “So what? I’m the boss here. My decision is final. If anyone has a problem with it, you can get out too.” She thought her threats would silence them. She forgot these were seasoned veterans, not easily intimidated. “Julian built this company from the ground up. If anyone should be leaving, it’s you!” “We all know who’s done the real work and who’s been coasting. You think your shares are all that matter?” “Julian has poured his blood, sweat, and tears into this company for you, and you throw him away for some boy toy? We’ll pull our investments and stand with Julian!” The shareholders tore her apart, their words sharp and merciless. She should have been furious. Instead, she hesitated. With so many people siding with me, could she really win this fight? But Leo couldn’t wait. “Claire, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity,” he urged. “Get rid of these old fossils, and the company is all yours! You’ll be the undisputed queen, and all the profits will be ours!”

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