Category: English

I was thirty-seven when my husband had an affair. I married him right after college. Fifteen years, just like that. Everyone told me I had a life to be envied. My husband, Mark, was a high-flying corporate executive. At home, he covered every expense, every bill, a provider far better than most. It felt like a bitter pill I was supposed to swallow. 1 At first, I truly intended to. The girl looked like she was barely out of her teens, while Mark had just turned thirty-eight. Our son was already in high school. That was until she found me, her face a mess of tears, clutching the hem of her shirt and begging me to step aside. Her eyes were glistening, just like mine had been all those years ago, drunk on love. In the mirror, I saw myself—the lines around my mouth had deepened into something less joyful, and the dark circles from sleepless nights with a sick child were a permanent fixture. “Please,” she whispered, “I love him so much. I’m begging you, let us be happy.” I played along, my voice casual. “And what’s the plan after the divorce?” Her eyes lit up, a blush creeping up her cheeks. “We’re going to Iceland to see the Northern Lights, and then we’ll have a daughter. Mark always said he wanted a soft, sweet little girl to cuddle…” Mark wanted a daughter? He was the one who swore that our son and I were all he ever needed. He was the one who said he would never let me go through the pain of childbirth again. Promises, it seemed, just rotted away with time. My playful mood vanished. “I was kidding,” I said, my voice flat. “Mark and I have been married for fifteen years. Our careers, our finances, our entire lives are tangled together. We’re not getting divorced. Instead of fantasizing about the future, you should start thinking about your own.” When I got home, Mark was on the couch, laptop open, lost in his work. The years had been kind to him; the tailored suit only amplified his mature charm. He heard the door open but didn’t look up, his fingers still flying across the keyboard. This was our silent agreement, forged over years of practice. As long as I didn’t bring it up, he could pretend nothing was wrong. I tied on my apron and quickly whipped up dinner—three dishes and a soup. Mark closed his laptop and joined me at the table. “Alex said his school’s track meet is next week. He wants you to be there.” “Okay.” “Dad’s blood pressure is acting up again. We need to get him in for a check-up.” “You schedule it.” “The chandelier in the living room is flickering. Should I call someone to fix it?” “Whatever.” “Sophie came to see me today.” He finally looked up, his brow furrowed with impatience. “And?” His mistress confronts me, and all he can say is “And?” Even with all my years of practiced restraint, I felt my hand tighten around my chopsticks. “Mark, we’re married. You are cheating on me.” He slammed his own chopsticks on the table, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous growl. “Sarah, don’t make it sound so ugly. Sophie is young and naive. It’s nothing. Stop letting your imagination run wild.” Young? She was in her twenties. The man’s capacity for self-deception was laughable. The rest of the meal was tasteless. I thought we’d be locked in a cold war for a while. But the next day, I came home early from a business trip and found Sophie curled up on my sofa. She was wearing the new silk nightgown I’d just bought, her face tilted up as Mark fed her a strawberry. “Oh, Mark, the strawberries you feed me are so much sweeter!” “You’re such a little flirt,” he chuckled. “Have another.” The sight of that bright red berry made my throat tighten. I used to love strawberries, and he would feed them to me just like that, one by one. Now, that tenderness belonged to someone else. Sophie giggled, swinging a pair of long, pale legs. I saw Mark’s gaze darken as he pulled her into his arms. Just as their lips were about to meet, I pushed the door open. Sophie didn’t pull away. Instead, a defiant smirk played on her lips. “Well, hello again. I was just having some cramps, and Mark was comforting me. You’re not mad, are you?” She snuggled deeper into his embrace. I saw his Adam’s apple bob, a warning glint in his eyes. I, who had always been the picture of grace and composure, had no idea how to react. Should I launch myself at them like a madwoman? Should I scream and tear away his hypocritical mask? Neither seemed like it would change a thing. Maybe divorce was the only way out. Our shared assets over the years would be more than enough for Alex and me to start over. Maybe once I was free, I could rediscover the woman I’d lost. Maybe I, too, could have a second chance at life… At that thought, I set down my suitcase, looked Mark straight in the eye, and said, my voice quiet but unshakeable, “Let’s get a divorce.” 2 Mark refused. His reason? He hadn’t committed any “fundamental error.” Then he unleashed the hounds, calling in relatives and friends to talk me down. My in-laws, whom I had cared for over fifteen years, told me it wasn’t a physical affair, so why not just tolerate it? They even offered to convince Mark to sign over five percent of his company shares to me as a consolation prize. Our mutual friends warned me that the girl was just a gold-digger. If I left, I’d be handing her exactly what she wanted. Mark’s business was booming, his net worth climbing. Only a fool would walk away from that kind of wealth. My best friend, who was going through her own messy divorce, sighed and told me to reconsider. Her husband had also cheated, but he was broke and ugly. “Look,” she said, “any man with a pulse is going to cheat. At least Mark is rich.” It seemed money was the ultimate get-out-of-jail-free card, capable of absolving any sin committed within a marriage. I didn’t say a word. I just kept gathering the documents for the divorce. My father heard the news and stormed over. The moment he walked in, he slapped me across the face. His face was red with fury. “What man doesn’t have to entertain clients? So what if there’s a woman or two on the side? He’s been good to you for fifteen years, isn’t that enough? You have to blow everything up and end up a pathetic divorcée? You’re almost forty, Sarah! Who do you think is going to want you now?” He looked healthy and well-fed. Clearly, my stepmother was taking good care of him, and my new little brother was behaving. He had no time for his daughter’s trivial heartaches. The last person to try and change my mind was my son, Alex. When he came home from school, my first instinct was to hug him. He shoved me away. “Why do you have to divorce Dad?” I, who had stood my ground against everyone else, suddenly felt small. “Your father is with another woman, Alex. I can’t live with him anymore.” “You mean Sophie? Dad told me she’s just a friend.” He looked at me with an exasperated expression that was a perfect mirror of his father’s. “Mom, you’ve lived a life of luxury for half your life. Do you really think you can handle being on your own? Don’t come crying to me when you can’t.” Honestly, before he got home, I had held onto a sliver of hope that the child I had raised with my own two hands would, at the very least, give me a hug. I imagined he would storm up to his father, demanding to know why he had hurt me, and stand firmly by my side. Instead, he unleashed a torrent of anger at me, then stomped upstairs. BAM! The slam of his door was so violent it felt like it shook my soul. Sarah, how did your life come to this? That evening, while I was in the shower, Mark came into the bathroom for the first time in what felt like forever. It had been over a year since we’d last been intimate. He walked in, his eyes cold, but his hands moved with a familiar confidence, tracing paths across my skin. “Don’t be angry anymore, okay?” he murmured. “I’ll send her away tomorrow. You’ll never see her again.” A warmth spread over my skin, but a chilling frost was creeping into my heart. I closed my eyes, letting tears mingle with the hot water streaming down my face. “Mark.” “Hmm?” “Did you sleep with her?” Silence. The unspoken answer was enough. A wave of fury washed over me. “You are… absolutely disgusting.” His temper snapped. He shoved me away, hard. 3 A sharp pain shot through my ankle, but before I could even look, he grabbed my chin and dragged me in front of the mirror. “I’m disgusting? What about you? Aren’t you disgusting?” he snarled. “Look at yourself! Look at that butchered haircut—is there anything feminine about you? Look at your breasts, they’re sagging down to your stomach! And your face, covered in spots… it’s impossible to even look at you, let alone kiss you!” “Sarah, do you even look like a woman anymore?” He squeezed my breast cruelly, his eyes filled with icy contempt. “This is how we’ll live. I guarantee you a life of comfort and security. But if you divorce me, I swear, I will make your life a living hell.” Long after he had left, I was still trembling. I couldn’t believe the man I had loved for two decades could say such things. Or had he changed long ago, and I had simply been too blind to see it? I clenched my fists so tightly my nails dug into my palms, a sharp, grounding pain. Mark, you think you have me trapped, don’t you? You think you can do whatever you want? Just you wait. This divorce is happening. The next morning, Mark had, for once, made breakfast. Alex was already eating, but he looked down as soon as he saw me, pointedly ignoring me. Mark played the peacemaker, coaxing our son. “Now, Alex, what did we talk about yesterday? We agreed we were going to forgive Mom.” Alex reluctantly muttered, “Morning, Mom.” “He was tired from the trip yesterday,” Mark said, his voice smooth as silk. “Come and eat. I made your favorite, club sandwiches.” He met my gaze across the table, a look of undisguised triumph in his eyes. I said nothing. A few minutes later, the doorbell rang. The housekeeper showed Sophie in. “Good morning, Mrs. Gordon. I’m just here to drop off a file for Mark.” They shook hands, a little too formally. Alex, seeing nothing wrong, actually invited Sophie to join them for breakfast. She hesitated for a moment before sliding into my seat at the table. As if to spite me, Alex pushed my plate in front of her. Then he poured her a glass of orange juice, my usual morning drink. Sophie, in turn, poured all her energy into charming Alex. “Oh, Alex, you’re so sweet! I was worried you’d be standoffish, like your mother…” “My mom’s just going through menopause,” Alex grumbled. “She’s paranoid, convinced you and Dad are having an affair. Just ignore her.” By the end of the meal, the two of them were acting like best friends. I had stopped listening the moment Alex called me paranoid. I walked out of the house. There was someone I needed to see. An old classmate I hadn’t seen in over a decade. My first love, and now, the city’s top litigator: Nathan. 4 In the quiet corner of a coffee shop, I laid out the whole story for Nathan. He just snorted. “And you’re really willing to let all that go?” He hadn’t changed a bit. Still the same prickly personality. If he’d been even a little bit gentler back then, I never would have broken up with him. I wasn’t in the mood to argue with him. I pulled a card from my purse. “I did my research. Your current rate is a million for a case like this. Here’s half a million upfront. The other half when it’s finalized. This is business, Nathan. No feelings involved.” Nathan picked up the card, toyed with it for a second, then slipped it into his pocket. “At your service, my wealthy client.” On the way back, he offered me a ride. While I’d been living a life of domestic bliss, his had been much harder. I’d heard his wife passed away from an illness a few years ago. They never had children. He’d poured everything into his work, rising to become one of the most formidable lawyers in the state. Nathan’s car was a flashy, ostentatious Maserati that roared to life. I couldn’t help but frown. “You’re not twenty anymore. Why are you still into such loud, flashy things?” I wondered how his late wife had ever put up with him. He just raised an eyebrow. “You used to love it, remember?” That shut me up. He was right. In my twenties, I’d been drawn to all things loud and shiny. But who has the energy for that when you’re pushing forty? I dropped the subject. After he dropped me off, I sent him another three hundred dollars. N: ? S: For the ride. N: Of course. Anything for my client. Despite the ridiculous car, Nathan gave me a masterclass in divorce preparation. Following his advice, I managed to get a clear picture of Mark’s finances. Then I hired a private investigator who quickly found the address of his little love nest. It was an apartment I’d bought before we were married. We lived there when we were dating and in the first few years of our marriage. We only moved into our current house after Alex was born and we needed space for a live-in nanny. I hadn’t been back in years. And Mark had hidden her there? I found the old key and went over on a day I knew they’d be out. Nothing inside had changed, except for the clutter of a new life. It was painfully obvious how badly Sophie wanted to marry Mark. Behind the sofa hung a portrait of the two of them. On the dining table sat a hand-crocheted doll she’d made. In the kitchen, a rich, fragrant soup simmered on low. It would have been a perfect picture of domestic bliss, if the pose in their portrait wasn’t an exact copy of one of ours. If the doll wasn’t my favorite orange-slice character. And if the soup wasn’t the special recipe I developed to soothe Mark’s chronic stomach issues. The recipe for that soup… I had only ever given it to one person: my mother-in-law. Which meant that besides me, she was the only one who knew it. And now, it was simmering in the home of Mark’s mistress. This cascade of betrayals made me wonder if I was such a failure that everyone in my life felt no hesitation in hurting me. Just as my emotions were churning into a maelstrom, the front door opened. Sophie burst in, beaming. She threw herself into Mark’s waiting arms. “It’s wonderful, Mark! I’m finally going to give you a daughter!” Mark stroked her face, his expression full of adoration. Then he looked up, and his eyes met mine.

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After my period went MIA for two solid months, my mom got it in her head that I was pregnant. So, she dragged me to the doctor. And who was sitting in the exam room? My ex-boyfriend, the one I’d dumped two months ago. His face was a blank mask, his voice colder than a morgue. “Get on the bed. Top up, pants down.” When I didn’t comply fast enough for his liking, he took matters into his own hands and started pulling my pants down himself. But the second the privacy curtain was drawn, he took off his glasses, leaned over me, and whispered, “We never went all the way. So why haven’t you had your period in two months?” 1 I never thought I’d run into my ex at my absolute lowest. To be fair, I should have seen it coming. When I saw the name ‘Dr. Cole Jacobs’ on the digital directory in the lobby, my brain short-circuited for a second. It can’t be… I clung to a sliver of hope. It’s a big city, lots of hospitals. Coincidences happen. But the moment I walked into the room and our eyes met, that hope died a swift and merciless death. He was impeccably dressed in a crisp, reassuring white coat. He had the title of Deputy Chief Physician at one of the top hospitals in the country. The hand holding the pen was elegant, with perfectly defined knuckles. Who else could it be? His tone was all business. “Ashley Price, is it? What seems to be the problem?” Great. It had only been two months, and he was already pretending he didn’t know me. Cold. Though, to be fair, the things I’d said when I broke up with him were a thousand times colder. My exact words were: “Cole Jacobs, after today, the only way you’ll ever see me again is if you’re on your deathbed, begging for one last look. And even then, I might not grace you with my presence.” Well, karma’s a bitch. Here we were, reunited in a hospital. Only the tables had turned. He was the doctor, and I was the patient, awaiting my sentence. And as for me “gracing him with my presence”? His appointments were so sought-after that I couldn’t get one. My mom had to resort to her superpower—money—and pay double the price to a scalper just to get me in. I’d overheard some girls in the waiting room gushing about how hot the doctor was, how the online reviews weren’t lying. They said you didn’t even need medicine; just getting his number was enough. His face was so devastatingly handsome it could make you want to live for another fifty years. At the time, I’d wondered if all guys with that name were that good-looking. I was curious to see for myself. And now I have. Devastatingly handsome, indeed. Except the devastation was all mine. 2 I’m usually quick with a comeback, but from the moment I stepped into that room, it was like my tongue had been possessed by a particularly stupid ghost. My mom, however, was completely oblivious to the undercurrent of tension between me and Cole. She launched into a loud, detailed account of my symptoms. “Dr. Jacobs, she hasn’t had her period in two months! It’s either pregnancy or some terrible disease. You have to give our Ashley a thorough check-up!” The sheer awkwardness of the situation was enough to build a new wonder of the world. “Of course, ma’am. We’ll take it one step at a time,” Cole said, his voice the epitome of calm professionalism. He had that perfect bedside manner that made patients feel completely at ease. But I saw it. As he lowered his head to write in my chart, I saw the words he was actually scrawling: “Patient possibly pregnant. Missed period. Not only moved on without missing a beat, but got knocked up by someone else in two months…” Hey, hey, is that last part really medically relevant? “Do you have a boyfriend?” It was a standard OB-GYN question, especially when it came to missed periods. Before I could open my mouth, my mom jumped in. “Oh, yes! And our Ashley and her boyfriend are just so in love. Practically inseparable!” “Have you taken a pregnancy test?” “Not yet! The second I found out she’d missed her period, I rushed her right over. It’s so hard to get an appointment these days,” my mom chirped. “I see.” On the surface, Cole’s expression was placid. But my danger senses were tingling, and I could see the knuckles of the hand gripping the ballpoint pen turning white. The tip of the pen was bent at a seventy-degree angle, pressing so hard it had torn through three layers of paper. Dude, that’s my medical chart, not your burn book! “So, is it likely she’s pregnant?” my mom asked, her voice filled with hopeful anticipation. I shot to my feet. “You know, I think I feel fine now! I actually feel like my period is about to start.” I knew Cole’s possessive streak. If I stayed in this room any longer, I was toast. But my mom shoved me back down into the chair. “What are you talking about, dear? This appointment was so hard to get! Now that we’re here, you need to tell the doctor everything that’s wrong.” I was on pins and needles, a nervous wreck. Cole finally adopted a more sympathetic tone. “With you here, ma’am, Ashley might be a little embarrassed to talk.” My mom had a lightbulb moment. “Oh, of course! What’s there to be shy about? I’ve seen it all,” she said as she walked out. Do you have any idea who this Dr. Jacobs really is? I wanted to scream. In bed, he’s a complete animal! He only looks like a saint. 3 If my life were a movie, it would be a disaster film, and this would be the long, slow-motion shot of my impending doom. As the clinic door clicked shut, it felt like a guillotine dropping. With the sole audience member—my mom—gone, Cole finally dropped the act. He put down the pen he hadn’t been using to write my chart. The cool, aloof doctor, with his smoldering eyes hidden behind silver-rimmed glasses, let out a cold laugh. “Well, well, Ashley. You’ve really outdone yourself. Who’s the father?” “It’s only been two months, and you’re already pregnant.” “That person who texted me was right. You really are a…” He stopped himself. “Forget it. From now on, we go our separate ways. You’re just a patient. It has nothing to do with me.” His voice was laced with ice. I was completely lost. What text? What was he talking about? Had Cole fallen for a phishing scam? As God is my witness, my heart belonged to Cole and Cole alone! Okay, so maybe I was a little wild before I met him. Our first meeting was hardly the stuff of romance novels. I’d just finished a hellish project for a client and decided to celebrate by hitting a male stripper club with some friends. But our GPS, in its infinite wisdom, led us to a classy, quiet cocktail bar instead. We didn’t bother checking the sign and just went in. The place had style, I’ll give it that. But my tastes are a little less… refined. After a quick scan of the menu, I ordered a Jägerbomb. As luck would have it, Cole was one of the bar’s investors and happened to be there that night. When he brought our drinks, he offered a friendly warning: “Mixing caffeine and alcohol isn’t a great idea. It can cause heart palpitations…” By then, my friends had already plied me with several rounds. I was seeing double. All I registered was a ridiculously hot guy standing in front of me. I grabbed his hand. “Whoa, the talent in this place is top-notch! How much for a night?” “Damn, look at these hands, these abs… premium quality.” I don’t remember much, but my friends later told me I didn’t just grope him; I tried to wrap my arms around his waist and kiss him. They were so mortified they wanted to crawl into a hole and pretend they didn’t know me. The next day, when I sobered up and learned of my transgressions, I was mortified too. But I couldn’t get his face out of my head. So, I shamelessly went back to the bar to “apologize,” which mostly consisted of me tugging on his sleeve and trying to get another look at his pecs. After I’d stalked him for ten days straight, Cole finally had enough. He cornered me in an alley behind the bar. “Ashley, are you here to apologize or to harass me?” I just giggled. “If you’re with me, no more male strippers,” he said, laying down his terms. “And no ogling other guys. Can you do that?” “Of course! From now on, my heart is all yours,” I vowed. Honestly, that night was the first and only time I’d ever considered going to a male stripper club. It was just a whim. But then I stumbled upon the man of my dreams, and I hadn’t looked at another guy since. I was the one who said the harsh words, but Cole was the one who initiated the breakup. His reason was: “I’m too busy with work at the hospital. I don’t have enough time for you. I don’t want to hold you back.” What a load of crap. Of course, I had to fire back with something equally cutting. I had to win the breakup. But now, he was accusing me of cheating, and it had something to do with a text message? There was definitely more to this story. 4 The reason I hadn’t tried to get Cole back these past two months was because I wanted my freedom. It wasn’t until after we started dating that he told me his real job was a doctor. The biggest problem with having a doctor for a boyfriend is the constant health policing. Other couples hold hands and sip iced milk tea on a hot day. Cole would stop me, explain how cold drinks on a hot day were a direct invasion of the lungs, and hand me a thermos of ginger-date tea instead. When I ordered takeout, I craved spicy, greasy things like Sichuan hot pot and barbecue skewers. He would calmly list all the ways those foods increased my risk of various diseases until I guiltily cancelled my order. So, when he broke up with me, as baffling as it was, a part of me was relieved. I was finally free to indulge in a paradise of fried chicken, late-night street food, ice-cold beer, and spicy crawfish. No more pinching my nose and choking down the “health tonics” he brought home from the hospital pharmacy. The harsh words were just a front, a way to keep him from coming back and finding me binge-watching shows at 3 a.m. with a pile of takeout containers. For the past two months, my social media has been a curated gallery of heartbreak. I posted angsty song lyrics, stuff like “How Could You Bear to Hurt Me” and “Thinking of You All Night.” But in reality, without his watchful eye, I was living my best, unhealthiest life. I’d tried every single pre-packaged meal from the convenience store near my apartment. I ate everything—icy, scalding, greasy—and stayed up until all hours. And now, here I was. My plan had been to eat my fill and then go crawling back to him. But of course, fate had other plans. Seriously, if I’d known I was going to run into my ex, I would not have worn my My Melody pajama set underneath my clothes. The cartoon rabbit’s big, innocent eyes were staring up from my chest, giving it a ridiculously comical look. I was going for a quirky vibe. But! Every time I saw Cole before, I dressed to kill. I wanted his eyes glued to me. Lace, ribbons, silk that clung to every curve, g-strings with pearl embellishments—you name it, I wore it. If he found out this was my actual taste in underwear, I would die of shame. 5 While I was having a full-blown panic attack, Cole’s voice cut through the air, cold and clinical. “Get on the bed. Top up, pants down.” I clutched my shirt, refusing to budge. “I’ve seen every inch of you. What’s there to be shy about?” When that didn’t work, he just reached for my clothes himself. No, you can’t! I squirmed like a worm on a hook. The commotion brought my mom back into the room. She saw me writhing on the exam table, trying to escape his grasp. “What is wrong with you?” she boomed. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of! To a doctor, there’s no such thing as male or female. He’s just trying to help you.” She rushed over and pinned me down. “Dr. Jacobs, please, just examine her.” “I want a different doctor!” I croaked. “This hospital is impossible to get into! I spent three days refreshing the app just to get this slot. You think we can just walk out?” my mom said, crushing my last hope. “Besides, didn’t you say you wanted to marry your boyfriend and live happily ever after? Do you want to drag this out and make him worry? He’s so busy, do you really want to add to his stress? Don’t you love him?” In my mind, Cole and I were on a break, so I hadn’t told my mom we’d “broken up.” The beautiful future she was describing was the one I’d imagined with him. These vows of a life together, so touching and sweet, were now turning the air sour. The more she talked, the darker both our faces became. He thought she was talking about the guy who’d supposedly knocked me up. And I was getting a headache just thinking about how I was going to explain this whole mess to him. Suddenly, a jarring ringtone shattered the tension: “We should break up with dignity…” It was Cole’s phone. His ringtone was that one line, on repeat. Wow, talk about holding a grudge. If he was really over it, would he still have that as his ringtone? He silenced the call without a word. In that brief moment, I caught a glimpse of his phone screen. His wallpaper was still a photo of us. Except it was in black and white. Was he mourning our dead relationship? It hit me then. The breakup, for him, was real. 6 My Melody pajamas didn’t seem so important anymore. Just then, Cole finally cut my mom off. “We’re about to begin the examination. I’ll have to ask you to step outside, ma’am.” Seeing that I had finally resigned myself to my fate, my mom gave me a few stern warnings, drew the privacy curtain, and went out to wait. As my shirt was slowly lifted, My Melody’s big, innocent eyes popped into view. I am a C-cup, for the record. Cole barely glanced at them. “Your new boyfriend has terrible taste.” With my mom gone, I seized the opportunity. “He’s not my new boyfriend! There’s no one else. It’s only ever been you!” Cole just snorted and ignored me. He squeezed a cold gel onto my stomach, and the transducer glided across my skin. My mouth was the only part of me that could move, so I decided to play the nostalgia card. “Cole, maybe it is your baby. I’ve missed two periods.” “And the timing fits, right? That night we were together…” “Is that so?” There was no warmth in his eyes. “As I recall, we didn’t go all the way that night.” The doctor in the white coat suddenly leaned in close, his lips brushing my ear. His warm breath sent shivers down my spine. My stupid heart started pounding. He was so close. It felt like he was flirting. Was he going to… right here? A montage of R-rated scenes flashed through my mind.

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After I died, the memorial service arranged by my best friend was trashed by a mob. Anti-fans swarmed the funeral home, livestreaming with selfie sticks. “Finally!” they cheered. “Good riddance!” The comments section was flooded with “Is she really dead? Thank God.” My ex-husband was photographed on a mega-yacht, celebrating with his mistress for seven days straight. It seemed my early death was exactly what I deserved. Until one day, my diary was made public. Only then did the world realize… I had only been happy for one brief moment in my entire life. Chapter 1 On a live talk show, the host suddenly pivoted. “Ethan Blackwood, your ex-wife recently passed away due to illness. How do you feel about it?” Ethan scoffed. “Feel? Nothing. I heard her memorial got trashed. Good. She deserved it.” The host smiled politely. “Do you mind talking about her? She’s been trending since the news broke.” Usually, capitalizing on someone’s death gets you cancelled. But when the deceased is me, nobody cares. “Ask whatever you want,” Ethan said, leaning back. “I’m curious,” the host continued. “Everyone says Hazel Green was a monster. So, why did you marry her?” The movie star went silent. He probably couldn’t remember why either. The host smiled faintly. “We actually obtained Miss Green’s diary. Would you mind if we shared it with the audience?” Ethan sneered. “She dropped out of high school. Could she even write a diary? Go ahead, show it. I don’t care.” When the worn notebook was opened on screen, everyone froze. The handwriting was neat and elegant, not the scrawl of a madwoman. The host cleared her throat. “Let me read an entry.” Chapter 2 October 3, 2020 Today, I’m getting married! Who’s the groom? My Ethan, of course. Who else would I marry? Who else would he dare marry? If he looked at anyone else, I’d kill him. We’ve been together for six years. Today, I finally married the boy I fell in love with at eighteen. Dear Diary, you should have seen how nervous Ethan was putting the ring on my finger. His ears were burning red, and his eyes welled up instantly. They say men’s tears are a woman’s weakness. It’s true. I couldn’t stop smiling. But honestly, Diary, when Ethan got drunk later and collapsed into my arms, I cried even harder than him. He whispered in my ear, “Hazel, I love you. I love you so much. Thank you for being my wife.” Actually, I should be thanking him. Because of him, I finally belong somewhere. At the wedding, Ethan’s mom hugged me. My nose stung when she held me. It was the first time an elder had ever hugged me. So this is what a mother feels like. Growing up in the foster system, I didn’t know what a hug was. Orphans like us, no matter how good we were, nobody held us. When we cried, we just lay on the floor until we stopped. Teachers always said we were “well-behaved.” But it was only because we knew crying got no response. And being good got no love. So we learned to hide. Only after meeting Ethan did I learn to be myself. To believe he would love me anyway. Now, Ethan and I finally have a home. Even if we’re broke. It will get better. I told Ethan, “This is the happiest moment of my life.” He hugged me tight. “Not the happiest. Every day from now on will be happy.” Marriage is wonderful. I have someone. I have a family. I’m not alone anymore. Here’s a photo from the wedding. It’s small, just a 4×6. I’m wearing an $80 dress from Shein, and Ethan is wearing his only decent suit. We look poor, but our smiles are so sweet. Ethan promised me that when he makes it big, he’ll take me to the beaches of Malaysia for a real photoshoot. The host finished reading and took a deep breath. No one expected the “evil” Hazel Green to have such memories with Ethan. The words were playful and sweet. Anyone could see how happy I was back then. Expired sugar is the deadliest poison. Ethan froze for three seconds. These memories had been buried deep. Back then, marrying me felt like winning the lottery for him. He had forgotten. The netizens were confused too. This didn’t match the villainess image they knew. “Reading this… she sounds like a normal girl in love.” “Fake. Look at the handwriting. No way Hazel wrote that.” “Wait, she was an orphan? No wonder she had no manners.” The host looked at Ethan. “Mr. Blackwood, it seems you were very happy when you got married.” Ethan zoned out for a second, then laughed self-deprecatingly. “She used to be a decent person. Too bad people change.” The host smiled. “Perhaps. Let’s look at the next page. Honestly, I’m curious what turned Miss Green into the villain everyone hates.” Chapter 3 January 6, 2021 Dear Diary, sorry I ignored you. I’ve been busy with extra gigs. Today I’m complaining again. Is there any way to make quick money? Maybe I should spend $2 a day on lottery tickets? A meal on set is $2. If I skip dinner, I can save that money. Maybe I’ll hit the jackpot. I don’t want to rely on luck, Diary. But I need money so bad. I can’t ask Ethan. He’s already stressed. He films night shoots and edits videos during the day. He’s so tired, but he always smiles and says, “Hubby isn’t tired.” It breaks my heart. Whatever. I’ll figure it out myself. Attached photo: Ethan sleeping like an angel. When life gets hard, I just look at his face. The host paused. “Ethan, did you know your wife needed money this badly back then?” Ethan shook his head. “I was her husband. If she needed money and didn’t tell me, it was probably for something shady. No wonder she did all those disgusting things later. For money, she really had no shame.” The host sighed and continued reading. Chapter 4 January 10, 2021 Dear Diary. My best friend died today. We grew up in the foster home together for ten years. She left me just because we couldn’t scrape together $5,000 for her surgery. I told her I’d find a way. Just wait a little longer. I’d deliver Uber Eats if I had to. But while I was on set as an extra, she pulled her own plug. She left a voice memo. “Hazel, we were thrown away as kids. Our bodies are weak. Making it to 25 is already a win for me. Don’t be sad. Maybe in heaven I’ll find the parents who dumped me and kick their asses. You and Ethan be happy. And remember, get your checkups. Poor people can’t afford to get sick.” I cried until I couldn’t breathe. We were so close. If she just waited… Diary, why is the world so unfair? Today on set, I heard the lead actress’s handbag cost $5,000. One bag could have saved my friend’s life. Thinking about this reminds me of another friend from the home, Maya. She had a round face and a smile like the moon. She was adopted at eight by a rich family. I was so happy for her. But she came back a year later. Thin. Silent. Mute. She wrote down that the family abused her. To stop her from talking, they cut her tongue. I ran to the Director for help, but he beat me half to death. He took hush money from the family and buried it. Maya killed herself shortly after. Now my other friend is gone too. There aren’t many of us left from the old days. Diary, I want to tell Ethan all this. But seeing his tired smile… Forget it. I’ll wait until life gets better. I won’t burden him. Goodnight, Diary. Hope I get a callback tomorrow. The host’s voice trembled. Netizens reacted: “She needed money for a friend?” “What kind of foster home was that? Investigate immediately!” “Seems like a whitewash attempt. But you can tell she was jealous. Comparing a life to a handbag? Classic envy.” The host turned to Ethan. “Ethan, did you know she needed $5,000? You were both 25. Did you really not have $5,000 in savings?” Ethan’s pupils shrank. “In 2020, we saved $10,000 together. I promised to buy her a gold bracelet… But at the end of the year, my mom got sick. It took all our savings. Later, she never brought it up, so I never bought it.” His voice dropped to a whisper. The comments flew by. “So Hazel gave all her savings to cure her mother-in-law and ended up broke herself?” “Well, marriage means family. It’s expected.” “If she had that bracelet, maybe she could have sold it.” Ethan didn’t tell the whole story. His mom had insurance. It covered most of the bills. When the reimbursement check came, I didn’t see a dime. When my friend got sick, I hesitated, then asked my mother-in-law for a loan. She mocked me. “Marrying a useless thing like you was charity enough. You dare ask for money? You’re an orphan. Nobody has your back.” I froze. The woman who hugged me at the wedding and called me “daughter” looked at me with pure disdain. We didn’t have a wedding ceremony, just a dinner. No ring, no dowry. And in the end, no respect. I learned then: once you’re married, the masks come off. Especially when you have no family to defend you. My diary didn’t hold half the grievances I swallowed. Chapter 5 The host smiled bitterly. “So, Hazel was broke because she gave everything to your mother?” The question was sharp. Netizens started arguing. Some sensed something was wrong. Ethan stiffened, adjusting his tie. “If she… hadn’t done those disgusting things later, I would have made it up to her.” He sounded self-righteous, his voice rising. The host laughed softly. “Is that so? Let’s read on. Let’s see how Hazel ‘changed.’”

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I had spent three years abroad recuperating from a prolonged illness, during which time I befriended a few fellow socialites from minor elite families. Upon returning to the States, finally healthy, one of them—Gia—invited me to an exclusive ladies’ luncheon. Everyone there was a stranger. When someone politely asked which “Mrs.” I was, I began: “My husband is the CEO of Crestwood Global…” Before I could finish, a woman—a high-society fixture—leapt from the crowd and slapped me across the face, sending me reeling. “Who the hell are you, some stray from the gutters, to try and steal my identity?” Stunned, I asked if she had misheard me. She sneered. “I’ve been coming to this salon for two years. Everyone here knows I am the Crestwood wife. Didn’t you even bother to check?” Heads nodded all around me, their gazes filled with cruel amusement and mockery. Just then, the CEO of Crestwood Global arrived to pick up the woman—it was my husband, Brandon, whom I hadn’t seen in months. He saw me, stumbled, and immediately dropped to his knees, his face sheet-white and slick with cold sweat. I reached out and patted his cheek, a laugh catching in my throat. “You, my glorified employee, dare to keep a mistress and let her flaunt my name?” 1 My friend, Gia Rossi, had invited me to the socialite luncheon. I figured since I hadn’t told Brandon I was back in the States, a few extra hours wouldn’t hurt. Whether I walked in now or later, it would be a surprise—though I was already starting to feel it might not be a good one. I decided to head to the salon first. The room was filled with faces I didn’t recognize. Gia and I had barely stepped into the grand hall when a small group of women approached, all smiles. One younger woman with bleached blonde hair, Bella Pierce, saw the Birkin on my arm and her eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. “That bag… isn’t that the limited edition Hermès from the Paris collection a few days ago? Only one made globally, right?” “Pardon me, but which Mrs. are you? We haven’t seen you here before.” I replied, “My husband is the CEO of Crestwood Global…” Before the full sentence was out, a striking, dark-haired woman launched herself from the small crowd and smacked me hard across the face, knocking me to the ground. “You common trash! Who the hell are you to try and steal my identity?” Gia gasped, quickly helping me up and glaring murderously at the woman. “What is your problem? You just walk in and assault someone?” I was completely blindsided, taking a long moment to process what happened. When I finally spoke, my voice was dangerously level. “Madam, you must be mistaken.” The woman—tall, perfectly manicured—crossed her arms, looking down her nose at me. “Mistaken? I’ve been attending these salons for two years. Ask any lady here—who doesn’t know that I am the Crestwood Global CEO’s wife?” She paused for dramatic effect. “You little tramp with a death wish, if you’re going to impersonate a high-profile wife, shouldn’t you at least do some basic research?” She let out a dismissive, ugly little laugh. “Then again, someone from your low station wouldn’t know any better.” I was lost. She claimed to be the wife of the Crestwood Global CEO? Then… who was I? The women surrounding us instantly turned frosty. One snickered. “Calling yourself the Crestwood wife in front of Piper Cole? That’s just pathetic.” “Seriously. Impersonating the wife of some B-list company is one thing, but the Crestwood wife? And to do it to the real one’s face? The audacity!” “I knew it!” Bella cried, quickly linking arms with the woman named Piper. “That bag—it must be a cheap knockoff!” She pointed a newly sharpened nail at me, her voice ringing with self-righteous indignation. “You! Apologize to Mrs. Cole now!” A genuine, cold amusement flickered through me. I ignored Bella and addressed the squatter. “Is your husband Brandon Shaw? Does he know what kind of woman he married?” Bella’s voice went up an octave. “Watch your mouth! You can’t just throw around Mr. Shaw’s name! Do you really think you’re his wife? Have some shame!” “Security! Get this nobody out of here! What are you letting just anyone walk in?” A security guard started moving toward me, but my mind was spinning too fast to focus on him. All I could think was—what was Brandon’s relationship with this woman? “It’s fine,” Piper said, waving a hand and giving a light, superior laugh. “Ladies, let’s not let this low-class drama ruin our afternoon. She can stay here if she wants.” She scanned the room, then looked back at me with contempt. “Better yet, why don’t I invite everyone back to my place for the salon? I’d hate for some poor little ugly duckling to try and hard-leech off my status again.” 2 After Piper swept out with her entourage, Gia looked at me, her brow furrowed with concern. “Ana, what is going on? Is there a misunderstanding? Did Brandon…” It was too much of a coincidence. This “Piper Cole” appears out of nowhere, steals my identity, and is linked to Brandon. I had to know the truth. I swallowed the knot of rising panic. “To the Atherton Estate. Let’s hear what Brandon has to say.” When we reached the gates of my own house, the driveway was crammed with luxury vehicles. And walking straight toward the front door of my villa was Piper’s entire posse. An edge of genuine rage sharpened my voice. “Are you planning to hold your luncheon here?” Bella whipped around, recognized me, and rolled her eyes. “Why are you still following us? Didn’t Piper make it clear you aren’t welcome?” “Your skin is unbelievably thick, lady.” I was so furious I laughed. “You’re going to host your salon… in my house?” “Your house?” A beat of silence, and then the whole group burst into cruel, collective laughter. Piper covered her mouth delicately, then dropped her hands, crossing them over her chest. She looked down at me from her perch on the stone steps. “What, not only are you impersonating me, but now you’re stalking me to my home?” “Honestly, even if you were cured of whatever mental illness you have, you’d still be drooling.” She shouted a command. “Mr. Jenkins! Get this deluded trespasser out of here!” An older man I didn’t recognize—certainly not the long-time groundskeeper—emerged from the house, grabbing a broom from the porch and starting toward us. I snapped, “Don’t you dare.” Perhaps the sheer coldness of my tone gave him pause, because the broom never dropped. I glanced inside. The staff were all new faces. My former household staff were gone. I turned to the old man. “Are you new here?” He faltered, looking nervously at Piper. Bella cut in impatiently. “Listen, lady. We all know your sad little charade. How do you have the nerve to follow us here? Are you seriously acting out a fantasy? Is this some kind of sick performance art?” “Do you have no sense of self-respect?” “Or do you have some kind of delusion disorder? Because let me tell you—Piper is the wife Mr. Shaw officially introduced at the Crestwood Gala. You need to recognize your place, even in your dreams!” “Seriously! What kind of psycho shows up on someone else’s doorstep like this? This is insane!” The others chuckled. Piper sighed dramatically. “It’s fine, Bella. I’m a good person. I’ll let them in to see the place.” She feigned a soft sadness. “It’s just… she’s crossing a line. She actually said this estate is hers.” “This penthouse was a birthday gift from Brandon. I’m actually sick to my stomach!” Bella instantly turned back into a lapdog, barking at me. “Can’t you see Mrs. Shaw is about to cry? What are you still doing standing here, you shameless little tramp? Get out!” “And Security! Why are you letting this trash in? You are completely incompetent! I’ll have my husband arrange to fire you all tomorrow!” “Enough!” My control shattered. The rage I’d been holding back boiled over. “All of you, right now, get away from my front door!” “Or I’m calling the police!” A flicker of genuine anxiety crossed Piper’s eyes before she composed herself. She challenged me coolly. “You say this is your house? What proof do you have?” I shot back, “Are you serious? I need to show you proof to enter my own home?” Bella immediately chimed in with scorn. “Still talking tough? I bet you can’t produce a single piece of evidence!” I took a deep breath, wanting desperately to ignore these insipid idiots but forced to play their game. “The security system is keyed to my fingerprint. And my password.” Piper barked a short, triumphant laugh. She shrugged, tilting her head. “That’s it? Go on, then. Try.” The group parted, making a mockery of a space for me. Seeing her absolute confidence, a chill of dread ran through me, but I stepped up and placed my hand on the scanner. Failure. Repeatedly. My password was rejected. Then, Piper casually placed her own hand on the pad. The lock clicked open immediately. 3 Bella was ecstatic. She crossed her arms and blocked my path. “Who is the woman of this house? I think we all know now.” “Low-class is low-class. Crawling back, begging for another public humiliation.” “First impersonating the CEO’s wife, now the homeowner. What’s next? I think she’s genuinely unstable. Maybe we should call the police.” “I’ve had enough!” Gia rolled up her sleeves and shoved Bella aside. “Who are you calling unstable?” “And who are you? Ana is the legitimate, legal wife of the CEO of Crestwood Global! She was overseas for a few years, and you, you opportunistic little squatting bitch, stole her house!” She pointed at Piper. “Who’s the shameless one? You, the thief who took over her life! You’re the one who needs to crawl into a hole!” Piper’s face went from smug to toxic. She grit her teeth. “What did you say?” “I said you’re a nest—” Gia was cut off as Bella, recovering quickly, slapped her across the face, sending her stumbling. “Gia! How dare you speak to Piper like that?” “You must be insane to offend Mrs. Shaw just to defend a pathetic imposter!” “Get on your knees and apologize to Piper! Unless you want to be permanently blacklisted from this city!” “An apology isn’t enough,” Piper sneered, her eyes burning with fury as she stalked toward us. I was focused on helping Gia up when Piper shoved me violently, then kicked me as I lay on the marble floor. “You’re going to get on your knees and apologize to me!” I was so stunned by the sheer nerve of her attack that I laughed, a sharp, humorless sound. “Apologize to you? Do you think you’re worthy?” “You owe me an apology for that first slap!” Piper’s smile was cold and arrogant. “My slap was an honor for someone like you!” “If you don’t apologize, I can make one call and ensure you’re run out of New York City!” I decided normal communication was impossible with these people. I stood up and dusted off my clothes. “Wow. That’s a bold claim. You must be really powerful to talk like that.” In my two-plus decades of life, I had never encountered such blatant, unhinged arrogance. Piper gave a scoff of contempt. “Crestwood Global can crush a nobody like you as easily as crushing an ant.” “What, scared now? Then get down and apologize! And give me ten forehead-to-floor kowtows!” “Oh yes, I’m absolutely terrified. Though, crushing me isn’t quite as simple for Crestwood Global as you think,” I said, my voice light but dangerous. “But you, my dear—a certified lunatic—I’m truly not afraid of.” “After all, you know better than anyone whether you are the actual wife or not.” I gestured to Bella, then looked directly at Piper. “This girl says you were ‘officially announced’ as Brandon’s wife at a gala, but I didn’t see a single headline, and it seems like very few in the actual inner circles know about it. What kind of official announcement is that?” “And I recall the current Crestwood Global CEO’s wife has always been intensely private, never appearing at public functions.” “But that doesn’t mean just anyone can show up and steal her identity!” Piper’s face was scarlet with panic and rage. “You wait right there!” She instantly pulled out her phone and video-called Brandon. It connected immediately. It was indeed my husband, the man I hadn’t seen in three years. Brandon’s face was all softness and smiles, his voice a low, soothing purr. “Honey, why are you calling now? Didn’t you just leave for the luncheon?” I took a long, steadying breath. So, it was true. My live-in, puppet CEO husband was cheating! Piper turned her phone so that her smug, victorious face—and ours—was visible, then she turned back to the screen, her voice sickeningly sweet. “Oh, nothing much. I just suddenly missed you.” “I’m busy with work right now, sweetie. You wait for me patiently at home, I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Piper giggled. “Okay, darling. I won’t bother you. I’ll wait for you at home.” She ended the call, then looked at Gia and me, her face glowing with triumph. “See? The CEO of Crestwood Global, Brandon Shaw, is my husband.” “You wanted proof? There’s your proof!” The other women were buzzing with excitement. “I actually saw the Crestwood Global CEO! He’s real!” “I want to see what these two imposters have to say now!” Piper pointed at us. “You two! One of you stole my identity, the other verbally abused me! Get down on your knees and apologize, or this won’t end well for you!” She poked a finger into my cheek, mocking me. “Especially you! I want you to beg. Ten kowtows!” I instantly grabbed her wrist and shoved her hand away. My face went cold, my eyes frozen. “Is that so? I’m curious to see what ‘crap’ Mr. Shaw is going to come up with.” I, too, pulled out my phone and dialed Brandon’s number.

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When Rhett Maxwell won his Academy Award for Best Actor. A headline instantly went viral: #RhettMaxwell:ThePlatonicIdeal? The top comment read: Oh, please. Don’t make Rhett laugh. The accompanying photo was his notoriously predatory stare at his co-star, Stella Reed, during their press tour. Even I was dragged back into the conversation, cornered by a reporter: “As the lead actress in Rhett Maxwell’s breakout series, do you think he’s the Platonic Ideal?” I hesitated, then gave a vague, harmless answer: “I… guess so. He’s a genuinely good person and always respectful of his colleagues.” For that, their fans flooded my social media with tens of thousands of hateful comments, calling me a D-lister riding coattails, clearly just jealous of their perfect romance. Later, on a reality show, the question was inevitably brought up again by a host looking for a soundbite. This time, I had the perfect, non-committal answer ready: “Oh, I really wouldn’t know anything about that.” But Rhett slowly lifted his eyes, the corner of his mouth ticking up. “Whether I’m Platonic or not, you honestly don’t know?” 1 #RhettMaxwell:ThePlatonicIdeal? The hashtag shot up the trending list. The comments were a unified wall of mockery: Oh, please. Don’t make Rhett laugh. Can we stop pushing this ‘pure fantasy’ narrative on our guy? Rhett: ‘Platonic—what’s that even look like?’ I bet Rhett is the type who’ll romance you but never stop. Lies. He’s the type who doesn’t romance you and still won’t stop! My agent, Celia, expressionless, clicked on the second trending topic and shoved the phone in front of me. I paused, slowly scrolling through the thread. I’m done. Rhett’s eyes on Stella Reed practically screamed ‘I want to devour you.’ And people are still calling him Platonic?? Clearly some washed-up ex-cast member is jealous… I’m so disgusted. I actually shipped those two back when she was the lead in his very first show, the one he did at nineteen. Now I feel like I ate dirt. That was years ago. Look at Rhett’s status now. That woman is going to be on the same reality show as our Rhella (Rhett + Stella) couple. I beg her not to interrupt their moment… She absolutely will. She’s going to try to stir up some ‘old flame’ drama. “You have two options right now,” Celia said, her voice tight with disapproval. “You can either lean into the hate and ride the ‘Black and Red’ route, like they’re suggesting. Or, you can tuck your tail and fade into the background around Rhett Maxwell and Stella Reed. Minimize your existence.” I let out a soft “Mmm.” Celia ground her teeth. “Did you not think before you answered that reporter?” I sighed. “What was I supposed to say? ‘No, Rhett Maxwell is absolutely not Platonic’?” She stared at me, speechless. “You say you don’t know, you aren’t sure, it’s none of your business. Isn’t that enough?” I froze for a moment. Right. It was precisely because I knew the truth so clearly that a neutral answer hadn’t even registered as an option. The first thing I reached for was a lie. “Forget it,” Celia waved a dismissive hand. “It’s the journalists looking for clicks who are the real problem.” Rhett Maxwell’s career had been on a meteoric rise since he was nineteen. Now, he was an A-list star whose name was synonymous with box office gold. But every time the media discussed his love life, I was inevitably dragged out. He had always maintained easy, professional relationships with all his leading ladies. Except for me. The lead in his first series at nineteen, I was the one he’d had a messy, public fallout with. But as the years passed, even the lingering hatred had faded, leaving us as two strangers with a shared, distant, emotionally flat public history. That was until Rhett and Stella’s latest blockbuster hit the theaters. They were electric on screen—not lovers, but the connection between their characters was undeniable. It had earned them a legion of passionate fans. To capitalize on the buzz, they were appearing on a low-key, slice-of-life reality show. And as luck would have it, I’d been invited, too. 2 In the sprawling, high-end villa. I sat quietly in a corner, waiting. The room stirred when Rhett Maxwell and Stella Reed entered last, the undeniable main event. Everyone stood to greet them, and I followed suit, but kept my mouth shut. Stella, however, walked straight over to me, extending her hand. “You must be June Hall, right? I’ve heard so much about you.” The atmosphere immediately stiffened into something awkward and forced. I managed a slight smile. “Hello.” Rhett glanced over nonchalantly, then took a seat on the diagonally opposite side of the large living space. He wouldn’t acknowledge me, and I certainly wouldn’t acknowledge him. Stella gave a brief nod, then turned and sat down next to Rhett. I clung to Celia’s instructions. Do not look at Rhett. If necessary, be a cheerleader for his and Stella’s interactions, just to avoid being branded a jealous villain by the viewers. One of the other actresses, who seemed to be close to Stella, gave me a saccharine smile. “So, June, what’s your best-known work?” My best-known work? I had a new series premiering in the fall, but it hadn’t aired yet. Before that— The breakout streaming show with Rhett seven years ago had amassed astonishing viewership. Even after seven years of living and working abroad, I knew a lot of people still remembered my name because of it. “Nothing, really,” I said calmly. Silence fell across the room. I felt a heavy, weighted gaze land on me. I smiled again, forcing a lightness. “I have a new series coming out this fall, but before that, I haven’t really had a ‘best-known’ one.” I knew the script. The moment I mentioned Rhett Maxwell’s name or that old show, the fans would crucify me for trying to ‘steal their thunder.’ Stella unconsciously glanced at Rhett. Seeing no reaction, she smiled brightly. “We’ll definitely be sure to support it when it comes out.” “That’s very kind of you,” I replied politely. Stella didn’t pursue the conversation, instead turning to Rhett to share a quiet word. The other guests were already wearing that ‘OMG, I’m watching a rom-com’ expression. The cameras were, as expected, locked on them. I finally let out a silent breath, using the opportunity to discreetly study him. Seven years on, Rhett hadn’t changed much physically, but he carried a deeper sense of maturity. Yet, that undercurrent of casual arrogance still defined his every move. When he wasn’t smiling, there was an aggressive edge around his eyes. Like now. I could tell instantly that he was in a genuinely terrible mood. But Stella said something, and the tension around his jaw softened, just for a moment. Stella was called ‘Rhett Maxwell’s Perfect Leading Lady’ for a reason. She had that beautiful, delicate, ‘white rabbit’ quality. They certainly looked the part of Hollywood’s golden couple. I pulled my gaze away. 3 The first day of shooting felt like a success, for me anyway. I’d survived. But before the second day, I checked the comments for the first episode. I am so over June Hall. Can she stop with the playing coy routine? Who doesn’t know about that one show she did with Rhett? Just trying to get Rhett’s attention, obviously. Honestly, no one cares. LOL, June Hall trying to generate heat. Did you see the look Rhett gave her? Pure disgust and total annoyance. He probably just knows his perfect little show is about to be ruined. Thank God for our beautiful, sweet Stella for even bothering to talk to her. …I had miscalculated. I was still getting eviscerated. I was invited by the director! I was there for the paycheck, the show was there for the ratings. I wasn’t there to destroy their perfect celebrity romance! Seeing the frustration harden on my face, Stella walked over. Her voice was soft, but direct: “Since you left the industry, why did you decide to come back now?” Her voice was just low enough for only the two of us to hear. I paused, recognizing the sharp edge of her hostility. I answered honestly. “I’m not trying to take Rhett from you. Our history is actually pretty toxic.” Her smile faltered, her light-colored eyes fixed on mine. “Take him?” she whispered. “Honey, you flatter yourself.” She turned and walked away. Watching her back, I met Rhett’s eyes across the room. He didn’t look away. His dark, unwavering gaze swept over me. It settled, completely empty of emotion. Only when Stella spoke to him did he finally break the connection. … The theme for today’s shoot: The Cozy Villa Life: Truth or Dare. I had a terrible feeling about this. Sure enough, the game started. Stella lost several times, and each time, she was asked about her first impression of Rhett, or funny anecdotes from their set. I was starting to relax. My name probably wouldn’t even come up. Until Rhett lost. One of the male actors chuckled. “Truth or Dare, Rhett?” Rhett answered coolly, “Dare.” A low wave of excitement rippled through the room. He was the first to choose Dare. The actor didn’t make up a challenge; he drew a pre-written card. [Choose one person of the opposite sex present and hold a stare for ten seconds.] Everyone cheered. I laughed along, until I realized Rhett was looking at me. Me: “…?” The corner of his eye lifted, his gaze light and detached on my face. I froze. Just as his thin lips parted to speak. I shot to my feet. “Excuse me, I need the ladies’ room. Sudden stomach ache.” I hurried out. I knew he wouldn’t actually pick me. But my heart had skipped a beat, and I reacted entirely on instinct, needing to escape. I returned ten minutes later. They had moved through several more rounds, and I assumed Rhett and Stella had already done their ten-second stare. I let out a shaky sigh. Of course, the very next hand, I lost. I immediately chose Truth. I couldn’t risk some ridiculous Dare that would make me a spectacle. The very next second. The actress who was close to Stella smiled innocently. “So, June, about that interview you gave where you called Rhett ‘Platonic’? Why exactly did you say that?” Her curiosity was disarmingly fake. I stiffened. She was intentionally bringing up the thing that had gotten me publicly shamed, setting me up to be dragged through the mud again. I stayed silent for a moment, then shook my head. “I was misquoted. I didn’t clearly hear the word ‘Platonic’ and answered too quickly.” She wasn’t letting up. “Well, you’ve heard it clearly now. What do you think?” No one jumped in to save me. Even the camera crew nearby waited for my answer, hungry for the high drama and high ratings it would bring. I gave them a smooth, objective, and utterly cold smile. “Regarding that, I really wouldn’t know anything about it.” She scoffed, obviously disappointed. The other guests who were hoping for some gossip also looked deflated. Stella maintained a polite, placid smile, saying nothing. Just as I let out a breath, believing the ordeal was over. Rhett slowly lifted his eyes, settling on me. “Whether I’m Platonic or not, you honestly don’t know?”

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My sister and I were both gifted a “Family Selection System.” She chose the billionaire parents, the star quarterback boyfriend, and the Prom Queen best friend. I chose the teacher parents, the quiet genius boyfriend, and the outcast bookworm best friend. My sister laughed at me. She called my choices boring and useless. What she didn’t understand was simple: Money and looks can never measure a person’s true worth. 1 My sister, Chloe, and I stared at the glowing blue screen floating in front of us. Our palms were sweating. We had died saving someone. Now, we were reborn in an orphanage, gifted with a “System.” The System told us we had three chances to choose our family members. Parents. Best Friend. And Boyfriend. Right now, we were choosing our parents. Profiles flashed before our eyes: Politicians, Janitors, Oscar Winners, Olympians, Teachers, Billionaires… When the “Billionaire Parents” profile appeared, Chloe’s breathing hitched. She pointed a shaking finger at the screen, her voice shrill with desperation. “I pick them! The billionaires!” The System turned its interface toward me. Chloe glared at me, her eyes full of warning. Parents could be shared. I could pick the billionaires too. But that would mean splitting the inheritance. And the attention. I scanned the screen. My gaze drifted past the glitz and glamour until it landed on a quiet couple. “Award-Winning Educators.” Their profile described them as gentle, intellectual, and deeply committed to education. They weren’t rich. But they were rich in knowledge. Growing up in that house meant receiving the best education money couldn’t buy. I made my choice. “I choose the Teacher Parents.” Chloe let out a breath she’d been holding. Then, she laughed. “Lily, are you stupid? Why pick those poor teachers? At least pick someone with money.” I looked down, staying silent. In our past life, I learned the hard way that money can be lost. But skills? Knowledge? Those stay with you forever. Wealthy parents are nice. But capability is better. The selection ended. Soon, the orphanage director ran over, breathless. “Girls! Two families are here to adopt you both! At the same time!” Chloe’s eyes lit up. She rushed out to meet her billionaire parents. But she found only a sleek Rolls Royce waiting. An assistant stepped out, adjusting his tie. “Mr. and Mrs. Sterling are busy. This car is your welcome gift.” Chloe stared at the car greedily, her excitement undimmed. My new parents stood nearby. Mom held a bag of new clothes. Dad carefully balanced a homemade cake. I walked over and smiled. “Hi Mom, Hi Dad. I’m Lily.” They hugged me tightly. They smelled of chalk dust and old books. Chloe watched us from the leather seat of the Rolls Royce, sneering. “Poor people’s happiness is so cheap.” I recalled the fine print in the System’s profiles. The “points” for each set of parents were equal. If they excelled in one area, they lacked in another. My parents had love and education, but no money. Chloe’s parents had infinite money. But they were also sadists. Violent, cruel, and fond of taking their stress out on their children. Chloe’s life wasn’t going to be the fairy tale she imagined. As the car drove away, Chloe flashed me a victorious smile. I smiled back. I wondered if she’d still be smiling after her first “lesson” from the Sterlings. 2 At home, my parents immediately drafted a study plan for me. They worried I might hate the rigorous schedule. But I devoured knowledge like a starving man at a banquet. “Our daughter is a treasure,” they’d whisper proudly. They didn’t know how desperate I was. In my last life, our parents favored Chloe. They sent her to college while I worked menial jobs to support the family. I suffered because I was ignorant. This time, I just wanted to learn. I graduated middle school as valedictorian. I could have gone to any local high school. But I set my sights higher. Apex Academy. It was a boarding school that recruited the nation’s elite. Getting into Apex was like having one foot in the Ivy League. The entrance exam was brutal. Thousands applied. Only hundreds remained for the final round. And there, I saw Chloe. She looked haggard. Her eyes were bloodshot. When her sleeves rode up, I saw bruises—new ones layered over old ones. She looked miserable. When she saw me, her face darkened. “Lily? You’re applying to Apex? Keep dreaming. You won’t even pass the first round.” Just then, an admissions officer walked over to me, beaming. “Lily, I’ve reviewed your scores. You’re in. Honors Class 1.” Chloe’s fake smile vanished. The officer turned to her, frowning. “Chloe Sterling? You failed the first round. Please leave the premises.” Chloe snapped. She started screaming at her assistant. “I want in! I want Class 1!” The Sterlings donated ten new buildings to the school. Chloe got her spot in Class 1. Waving her acceptance letter, she gloated. “See, Lily? Ten years of studying isn’t worth ten minutes of my dad’s money.” “Hard work can’t beat heritage. Too bad you picked the poor parents.” Her initial misery vanished, replaced by the arrogance of a rich girl. She thought she’d won. But I looked at the fresh bruises on her arm. The Sterlings spent a fortune to get her in. They would extract the “cost” of that donation from her skin later. 3 As I predicted, Chloe didn’t show up for the first month. Rumors swirled that screams were often heard coming from the Sterling mansion. I ignored them and focused on my studies. Apex was filled with geniuses. I was top of my city, but here, I was average. I worked twice as hard to keep up. One day, while heading to the bathroom, I heard noises. “Think you’re smart because you’re number one?” “Drink the toilet water!” “Look at her hands, all cracked. Can’t even afford lotion. You deserve this.” I peeked inside. The bully was Jessica, the “Class Queen.” The victim was the class genius, Nova. Nova had a burn scar on her face. She was a loner. But her brain was incredible. She didn’t study; she just knew. Seeing blood on Nova’s lip, I felt a surge of anger. My parents taught me to cherish talent. I stormed in, pushing Jessica away. “Stop! Bullying is prohibited.” Jessica sneered. “My dad is a Senator. Interfere, and I’ll ruin you too.” Nova pushed me away. “Leave. I don’t need help.” I grabbed her hand. “Don’t worry. I got this.” I turned to Jessica. “I know your dad is a Senator. But if you touch me, his career is over.” Jessica frowned. “Why?” “My parents are National Merit Educators. They’ve taught half the people in the Department of Education.” I stepped closer. “You touch me, it becomes a national scandal.” Politicians fear bad press more than anything. Jessica weighed the risks. She dropped the mop and left. I helped Nova up. “You can tell the teachers next time.” Nova shook her head silently and walked away. On the floor where she had been sitting, I found a bottle. It was full of sleeping pills. 4 I started watching Nova. The pills weren’t for sleep. They were for suicide. Her backstory was a tragedy. Her parents were cops who died in the line of duty. They left her a massive trust fund. Her aunt and uncle took her in. They spent the money on their gambling addict son, then moved to a new city to hide. Now, they abused her. They stole her wages from part-time jobs. And worse? They were planning to marry her off to her cousin to keep her “in the family.” “We’ll break your hands so you can’t take the SATs,” her aunt had threatened. I was thinking about this when a notebook landed on my desk. “I summarized the key points for the next exam,” Nova said, her voice cool. Sunlight hit the scar on her face. I grabbed her thin wrist. “Come to my house this weekend.” She refused. I didn’t give up. I pestered her to study with me. I brought her lunch. I partnered with her in gym. She didn’t say much, but she tutored me relentlessly. My grades skyrocketed. Two months later, Chloe returned to school. She immediately became Jessica’s new target. Without Nova to bully, Jessica turned on the “buy-in” student. Chloe tried to tell her parents, but they ignored her. They enjoyed her suffering. Teachers wouldn’t touch a feud between a Senator’s daughter and a Billionaire’s daughter. Chloe tried to redirect Jessica to me. “Bully Lily! She’s poor!” I laughed. “My parents will protect me. Your parents just want to see you bleed.” Chloe’s face twisted. She realized she had chosen wrong. “System!” she screamed internally. “I want to choose my Best Friend! I choose Jessica!” She glared at me, triumphant. “Lily, you’re dead. Jessica is my bestie now.”

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My parents’ biological daughter, kidnapped seventeen years ago, finally came home. Mom held her tight, calling her “sweetheart” and “darling” through her tears. But the girl stared straight at me, feigning innocence: “Since I’m back, shouldn’t she go back to her own family now?” She thought I was some random adoptee who had stolen her luxurious life. She didn’t notice that the moment those words left her mouth, the entire room went dead silent. 1 Bella is my parents’ biological daughter. She was kidnapped as a toddler and sold to a family in a remote rural area. Today was the day she finally came home. I had just gotten back from baseball practice. As soon as I reached the door, I heard muffled sobbing from inside. Walking into the living room, I saw Mom hugging a girl, crying uncontrollably. Dad stood beside them, a six-foot man with red, puffy eyes. Mom’s voice was hoarse: “I’ve waited so long for you.” “You don’t know how much I regret leaving you with that nanny.” I instantly understood who this girl was. My parents had a biological daughter. Back when they were launching their startup, they were too busy to care for her themselves, so they hired a nanny. They left early and came home late, barely seeing her. They had no idea the nanny was part of a human trafficking ring. When she was four, the nanny sold her. They spent years looking, but never found her. Until today. “Who is that?” A thin voice snapped me back to reality. I looked up and found her staring at me. I frowned instinctively. There was something unsettling about her gaze. She flinched dramatically, shrinking back into Mom’s arms. Mom patted her back soothingly. “Don’t be afraid. That’s your sister, Chloe.” Then she introduced her to me: “Chloe, this is your sister, Bella.” “But… I remember I didn’t have a sister.” She hesitated for a second, then looked at me with timid, fearful eyes. Mom explained, “Chloe is…” I smiled and cut in: “I was adopted.” “Oh, I see.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, sounding lost. “So Mom and Dad already had another child.” Mom quickly hugged her tighter. “Bella, having a sister isn’t a bad thing. It just means there’s one more person to love you.” Bella looked down, tears spilling over. “I thought Mom and Dad would only love me. Why do you have to share my love with her?” 2 Now I was sure. My discomfort wasn’t my imagination. She was hostile. I could understand it. She’d suffered for years while I lived the good life with her biological parents. Seeing another kid in her spot would sting. I started to explain, “Bella, actually I’m—” But Bella suddenly wailed louder, cutting me off. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come back! I’m just interrupting your happy family of three!” Dad panicked. “Bella, what are you saying? Your mother and I have prayed for this day for years! We’re overjoyed you’re home. No parent wants their child to suffer out there!” Bella looked at Dad helplessly. “Really?” “Of course!” Getting the reassurance she wanted, she broke into a tearful smile and hugged Dad tight, resting her head on his shoulder. “Thank you, Daddy.” My parents let out a collective breath of relief. Then, Bella dropped the bomb. “Since I’m back, shouldn’t she go back to her own family now?” The air in the room vanished. The only sound was shallow breathing. She looked at Mom expectantly. Mom looked away. Dad pretended to drink his tea to avoid eye contact. Bella finally realized something was wrong. Panic flickered across her face. “Dad? Did I say something wrong?” I caught the flash of annoyance in her eyes. I paused. Dad cleared his throat. “Having two daughters is a blessing. Let’s not change anything.” Mom chimed in, “Exactly. You just got back. If you need anything, Chloe can help you.” Bella clearly didn’t expect to be shut down so quickly. She looked at me, stunned. I smirked. “Sure thing.” I grabbed my baseball bat and turned to leave. Behind me, Mom’s panicked voice called out, “Chloe! Chloe!” 3 I walked straight to the house next door. I used my fingerprint to unlock the door and let myself in. This house belonged to my Aunt Sarah and Uncle Mike—my actual biological parents. Yes, I was “adopted” by my current parents (my Aunt Linda and Uncle Dave), but it wasn’t a standard adoption. When Bella, my Aunt Linda’s hostile daughter, glared at me, I understood her anger. But I didn’t feel guilty. I didn’t owe her anything. Seventeen years ago, Aunt Linda lost Bella. She was suicidal. She knelt in front of my bio-mom, begging to adopt me to fill the void. My mom refused at first. She had three sons and had finally gotten the daughter she wanted. Why would she give me up? But Aunt Linda and Uncle Dave bought the house right next door. They looked like walking skeletons, consumed by grief. My mom’s heart broke for her sister, and she finally agreed. My name is Chloe Su-Miller. “Su” is my bio-dad’s last name. “Miller” is my bio-mom’s. That was the only condition my mom set for the adoption. To the outside world, Aunt Linda and Uncle Dave loved me so much they gave me my mother’s maiden name as a middle name. Even Bella thought I was some random orphan who lucked into her life. But honestly? I was born to be spoiled. If I had stayed with my bio-parents, my life would have been even better. My bio-parents are wealthy, free-spirited, and deeply in love. My oldest brother is a ruthless CEO. My second brother is a gentle hospital director. My third brother is a famous, rebellious film director. I have an army of backers. Thinking back to the resentment in Bella’s eyes, I chuckled. My life was about to get interesting. The new cousin… she’s a piece of work. 4 Since I can remember, my bio-parents and brothers never ignored me. When Aunt Linda and Uncle Dave were busy, my bio-family took care of me. They always told me that even though I was adopted by Aunt Linda, their door was always open. They kept a room for me, fully stocked with a library and a piano. So, sitting here on their couch, eating fruit prepared by the housekeeper, felt completely natural. Suddenly, footsteps pounded outside. Mom and Dad (Linda and Dave) rushed in. “Chloe! Chloe!” “What’s wrong?” Mom saw me safe on the couch and sighed in relief. She rushed over and cupped my face. “Chloe, baby, I know you’re hurt. Bella is just sensitive right now. Please don’t be mad.” I raised an eyebrow. “So I deserve to be treated like an intruder?” Dad jumped. “What are you saying?!” “We watched you grow from a tiny baby into a beautiful young woman. You are our daughter. Who dares treat you like an intruder?” Mom added, “Chloe, hearing you say that breaks my heart.” “Fine,” I said. “But I don’t want to go back and listen to her talk like that. I’ll stay here for a few days.” Mom and Dad shouted in unison: “No! You’re coming home with us. We’re worried about you.” They flanked me, one arm around my shoulders, one around my waist, and practically marched me back next door. They were terrified I’d stay with my bio-parents and never come back. Good. They hadn’t been completely brainwashed by Bella yet. I glanced up at a second-floor window. The curtain twitched. A figure was standing there. I smiled. Bella, I win this round.

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My wife’s college buddy has a sports system, and it’s bound to me. As long as I lie still, he can keep moving forever. All his fatigue? It transfers directly to me. So, my wife ties me to the bed while he runs a marathon… and wins. She even drugs me with sleeping pills, so he can finish a two-mile swim without breaking a sweat. My body is falling apart, while he’s raking in prize money and accolades. And my wife? She just sneers at me. “Look at Ryan,” she’ll say. “He’s built like a rock. And you? You’re so useless, your muscles are turning to mush.” I stay still, he keeps moving? If I stay perfectly still… he can just keep moving… indefinitely? Fine. The night before New Year’s, they made plans to ring it in together. All night long. So I went to a research hospital, signed a waiver, and had myself cryogenically frozen for one year. I’m going to make sure their special New Year’s celebration lasts the entire year. Let’s see them break a world record. 1 Sophie walked towards me, another wide cloth strap in her hand. It was a familiar routine. Every time Ryan had a competition, she would tie me down first. When I tried to struggle, her voice would drop to a gentle murmur. “Hush now, sweetie. Just cooperate. It’s only for a few hours. I’ll lie here with you.” I stared at her, bewildered. “Sophie, what in the world are you doing?” She didn’t answer, just pushed me down onto the bed. My body was completely immobilized. On the TV, a marathon was being broadcast live. Sophie’s friend from college, Ryan, was one of the runners. I watched with a deepening frown. Not ten minutes in, a sharp, aching burn shot up from my calves, the kind you get after sprinting three miles. The soreness was so intense I couldn’t stop a groan from escaping my lips. I tried to get up, but Sophie held me down with surprising strength. She cradled my head, a smile playing on her lips. “Just bear with it, honey. I’ll give you a massage.” As her fingers kneaded my cramping muscles, her eyes were glued to the TV, shining with excitement. On screen, Ryan was running with an effortless, steady pace, not a bead of sweat on his face. He was a stark contrast to the other runners, who were panting and drenched. The faster he ran, the more agony I felt. Every one of his strides sent a fresh wave of pain through me, as if I were the one running—no, it was worse, more exhausting than if I were running it myself. Whenever I felt like I was about to break, Sophie would press down harder, pinning me to the bed. I don’t know how much time passed, but finally, the announcer’s voice boomed, “And we have a winner!” Ryan crossed the finish line and was immediately swarmed by a crowd. Sophie let out a sigh of relief and finally untied me. Ryan accepted the trophy, then beamed at the camera. “Sophie, my angel, did you see that? I won! I have to thank you. Knowing you’re there for me, day or night, gives me all the strength I need.” I looked up at Sophie. She stood by the bed, her face a mask of pride, joy, and relief. And I trembled with a rage that consumed me whole. 2 I was a dead weight on the bed, without the strength to even lift a finger. I watched Sophie casually toss the cloth straps onto the sofa, my voice raspy with exhaustion and suspicion. “Sophie, why did you tie me up?” She was bent over, changing her shoes. She froze for a second, and when she turned back to me, the excitement from the broadcast was gone, replaced by a cold impatience. “I told you to cooperate. Why do you ask so many questions?” A bitter smile twisted my lips. The ache in my body hadn’t faded, and every word was an effort. “Cooperate? You trussed me up and made me lie here in agony, and you call that ‘cooperating’? And you, spending your days and nights with Ryan… what exactly are you two doing?” Sophie’s brow furrowed into a harsh line. “What are you implying? Ryan is just a friend from college. He’s under a lot of pressure training for his competitions. What’s wrong with me looking out for him? He’s a gifted athlete, a champion bringing home medals. And you? All you do is lie here and let your imagination run wild.” I repeated her words, my heart clenching as if squeezed by an icy fist. “Looking out for him? You ‘look out for him’ by tying me to the bed? Am I just a pawn in your little game?” “Don’t be ridiculous,” Sophie snapped, her tone hardening. “I told you not to overthink it. He’s like a little brother to me. Ryan won the championship. It’s a huge honor. You should be happy for me, but instead, you’re sitting here wallowing in jealousy. Is that really necessary?” I opened my mouth to argue, but my throat felt tight, and no words came out. It was always like this. Whenever Ryan had a competition, she’d find some excuse to make me stay put, either claiming I was overworked and needed rest or concocting some other bizarre reason to keep me immobilized. I used to dismiss it as my own paranoia, but this time was different. The searing pain of being bound, the bone-deep fatigue, and the sight of Ryan running so freely on TV… it was all like a thousand tiny needles, pricking me into a state of horrified clarity. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. My health was deteriorating. The slightest movement left me breathless, yet Ryan seemed more energetic than ever, raking in awards. There had to be a connection, something I was missing. Just then, a knock came from the door. Sophie’s face instantly lit up with a warm smile, and her voice softened with a tenderness I hadn’t heard directed at me in a long time. “Ryan! You’re here! Come in, you were amazing. I almost cried watching you win.” Ryan walked in, his steps light and bouncy. His eyes fell on me, and a smirk of pure mockery spread across his face. “Still in bed, Marcus? You should get up and move around a bit. It’s not healthy to lie around all day. Look at me—you gotta keep moving to stay strong.” He casually waved the trophy in his hand, its golden gleam stabbing at my eyes. Sophie looked at him with an expression of pure adoration, then turned her cold gaze on me. “Well? Aren’t you going to get up and make Ryan something to eat? Lie there any longer and your limbs will just waste away.” 3 There was no way I was making them dinner. In the end, Sophie cooked some instant ramen. As I drifted in and out of a pained stupor, I could hear their hushed whispers from the living room. They must have thought I was sound asleep. Their voices were low, but the words drifted into the bedroom with chilling clarity. “Sophie,” Ryan said, his voice laced with a confident smile. “I’m definitely going to win the three-thousand-meter swim tomorrow. After I get the prize money, how about we spend New Year’s Eve together? You know you’re my only New Year’s wish, right?” Sophie’s reply was a little flustered, almost shy. “Ryan, your stamina is incredible. You just ran a marathon, and now you’re ready for a three-thousand-meter swim tomorrow. But… spending the whole night together… I’m not sure I can handle that.” Ryan chuckled softly. “Don’t worry, my angel. I’ll be gentle. We’ll have the whole night to ourselves. What do you say?” After a brief pause, Sophie’s voice returned, hesitant. “But… I just can’t shake the guilt. Maybe I should just divorce him. It feels so wrong doing this behind his back.” Ryan’s tone shifted. “Sophie, you can’t divorce him now. This sports system I have… it’s bound to him. It only works if he’s lying perfectly still. All his fatigue gets dumped on Marcus, and that’s how I win these championships.” My world froze. Ryan has a system? And it’s bound to me? I held my breath, pressing my ear against the headboard, and fumbled for my phone to start recording. Ryan’s voice softened again, becoming persuasive, coaxing. “If you divorce him, how will you control him? What if he runs off or refuses to cooperate? The system would be useless.” “Sophie, just wait a little longer. After a few more major competitions next year, we’ll have enough prize money and fame to set us up for life.” “By then, he’ll be a wreck anyway. A vegetable who can’t even walk. If he… passes away… no one would suspect a thing. Once he’s gone, we can finally be together, openly. I’ll marry you.” Sophie hesitated for a moment before letting out a soft laugh. “Okay. I’ll listen to you. You focus on your race tomorrow. I’ll make sure he stays put. And tomorrow night… we’ll have our New Year’s Eve. I’m all yours.” “You’re the best, Sophie,” Ryan purred. “But you have to time it right. You need to get him up and moving after my race is over, or I won’t be able to stop either.” “Don’t worry,” Sophie replied softly. “I know the rules. Don’t let him stay still for too long, or you’ll be stuck in motion. I understand.” Lying in the darkness, a glacial coldness seeped into my bones, as if my blood had turned to ice. So that was it. That was why I was getting weaker and weaker while Ryan was an unstoppable champion. That was why Sophie was always finding ways to keep me in bed. It wasn’t paranoia. It wasn’t me being jealous. I really was just a pawn in their game. A stepping stone for Ryan’s success. A tool to be used and then discarded. 4 The next morning, the TV in the living room was blasting the sports channel, showing the pre-race preparations for the three-thousand-meter swim. I leaned against the headboard, the aches from the previous day still clinging to me. Sophie came in, holding the same cloth strap from yesterday, her expression blank. “Lie down, Marcus. Cooperate.” I frowned, my voice hoarse. “No. I’m not doing it.” She froze, and her brow immediately tightened. “What’s gotten into you? It’s just for a few hours. Just tolerate it.” She reached for my arm, but I yanked it away. Sophie stared at me for a few seconds, then, as if an idea struck her, she turned and left the bedroom. She returned a moment later with a glass of milk, her tone softened, laced with a familiar, deceitful sweetness. “Fine, no straps. Here, drink some milk. You look like you didn’t sleep well.” As she held the glass out, the faint, chemical smell of a pill mixed with the scent of milk hit my nose. A cold smile touched my lips. Sleeping pills. Her go-to trick. I turned my head away, avoiding her hand. “I don’t want it.” Sophie’s patience finally snapped. Her face twisted into a snarl. “Marcus, are you determined to fight me on this?” From the TV, the commentator’s excited voice announced that the swimmers were in position and the race was about to begin. Sophie grew more frantic. Her eyes were locked on me when she suddenly pointed out the window. Instinctively, I glanced over. The next thing I knew, a blinding pain exploded at the back of my head. I whipped my head back around to see her holding a glass ashtray, its edge smeared with my blood. I gasped, my voice shaking with disbelief and fury. “Sophie, you bitch!” Then, everything went black. I don’t know how long I was out. I was jolted awake by Sophie shaking me. The throbbing in my head was relentless, and waves of dizziness made it hard to open my eyes. “Wake up. Stop playing dead!” It was Sophie’s voice, tinged with a cheerful lightness. I forced my eyes open. Through my blurry vision, I saw the awards ceremony on TV. Ryan was holding another trophy, a triumphant grin plastered on his face. Sophie stood by the bed, a proud smile on hers. “Ryan won again! See? I told you he could do it.” I tried to move my fingers, to push myself up, but felt something sticky on my cheek. I reached up and my hand came away covered in blood. Sophie’s eyes remained fixed on Ryan on the screen. “You’re bleeding,” she said without turning. “Do you need to go to the hospital?” Gritting my teeth, I summoned every ounce of strength I had and struggled to sit up. Every movement sent a fresh spike of pain through my skull, and my vision kept blacking out. I stumbled to the doorway and looked back at Sophie. She was still standing there, her gaze locked on the TV, without the slightest intention of even helping me to the door. “I’m spending New Year’s with Ryan tonight. Don’t wait up,” she said, her voice full of anticipation, her back still to me. I gripped the doorframe, a chilling cold spreading through my veins. You two are spending New Year’s Eve together? I stay still, he keeps moving? He can keep moving… indefinitely? Fine. I will give you two a New Year’s Eve you will never, ever forget. 5 Before I left the apartment, I slipped a small digital recorder into Sophie’s purse. Then I went to the nearest urgent care to get my head wound treated. After they stitched me up, I walked straight to the hospital’s research wing. I remembered scrolling on my phone a while back and seeing an ad for volunteers for a long-term cryogenic study. It was for a full year, and during that time, no one had the authority to terminate the experiment. At the time, I’d dismissed it as a bizarre piece of trivia. I never imagined it would become my salvation. The director’s office was simple, his desk buried under stacks of papers. When I walked in, he was organizing files. He looked up. “Here to inquire about the cryogenics trial?” I nodded and asked if it was possible to start tonight. The director pushed his glasses up his nose and handed me a waiver. “We can. The rules are firm: once the process begins, you’ll be frozen for one year. There will be no contact and no early termination. Are you absolutely sure about this?” I picked up the pen and signed my name without a moment’s hesitation. As midnight approached, my phone buzzed. It was a video call from Ryan. I stared at the screen for a second before swiping to answer. The screen filled with the view from a hotel balcony. In the distance, an amusement park glittered with colored lights, the Ferris wheel a vibrant beacon in the night sky. Ryan appeared, wearing a bathrobe, his hair still wet. He leaned into the camera, a smug, triumphant smile on his face. “Hey, Marcus. Sorry you couldn’t join us tonight.” He panned the camera around, giving me a clear view of the large bed behind him. He grinned. “Sophie’s just taking a shower. She’s agreed to be my special ‘New Year’s gift.’ It’s going to be an unforgettable night. I’ll spare you the live feed of what happens next, wouldn’t want you to get the wrong idea, you know?” Just then, Sophie’s voice called out from the bathroom. “Ryan, sweetie, can you bring me a towel?” Ryan’s smirk widened. He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Sophie’s calling me. Gotta go, buddy.” The screen shook as he moved. I heard his gleeful laugh. “Coming, angel!” The call ended. At that moment, the director informed me that everything was ready. I stood up, walked over to the cryogenic pod, and activated the live-stream function on the recorder I’d planted in Sophie’s bag. It had a low-power mode that could supposedly last for a month. A full year would have been better. That would have been quite a show. I lay down inside the chamber and gave the doctor a thumbs-up. He nodded and pressed the activation button. A frigid mist began to fill the pod. I closed my eyes, ready for my consciousness to be suspended in ice, with only one thought echoing in my mind: Get ready for 2026, Sophie. Ryan. I hope you enjoy every single second of it.

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My husband is a stuffy traditionalist, the kind of man who refuses to sleep with me. To keep this she-wolf at bay, he buttons his pajamas up to the very top button every night and even tucks a Bible under my pillow before we go to sleep. I’d finally had enough and was about to file for divorce when a string of comments suddenly materialized before my eyes: 【Poor Dragon Lord, about to be abandoned right in the middle of his heat.】 【This side character is so blind. He’s not putting a Bible under your pillow, it’s The Art of Seduction: 108 Positions!】 【Why don’t you just touch him? The Dragon Lord’s cock is about to explode! If he wasn’t so scared of freaking you out, he would have taken you hard a long time ago!】 I froze, pulling back the divorce papers I was about to hand him. Then, I reached out and grazed his abs. 1 The man’s expression was indifferent, his amber eyes watching me calmly. “What are you doing?” His voice was as cool and detached as ever. The floating comments continued to scroll past: 【Is the male lead a ninja? How can he hold back like this? It’s the third day of his heat!】 【It’s not his fault! He’s just terrified of scaring her off, so he’s forcing himself to be a perfect gentleman. He’s hopelessly in love with her.】 【No wonder she thinks he doesn’t like her. Tonight she’s going to storm off to a club to find a male model and get caught! That’s how the male lead and the female lead finally meet.】 Getting caught with a male model? Don’t just make stuff up that hasn’t even happened! I casually shifted my gaze away from the comments. “N-nothing. There was just a smudge on your shirt. I was just wiping it off for you.” Arthur Price didn’t say a word, just stared at me for so long I started to think he’d figured out I was planning to divorce him. Nervous, I was about to crumple the divorce papers in my hand when I saw him grab his bathrobe and head into the bathroom. My heart sank. I barely touched him, and he had to go wash himself? Is he really that repulsed by me? But the comments were going wild: 【Silly girl, he’s not washing you off, he’s… hehehe…】 【OMG! He finally lost it! She just touched him and he’s already in the shower taking a cold one.】 【Ah! He’s in there whispering her name!】 My face flushed. Was this a comment section or a peep show? An hour later, Arthur emerged from the bathroom, his voice much clearer. “There’s a charity gala hosted by the Landon Group tonight. You’re coming with me.” I frowned. “I don’t think so…” Those events are always so boring and exhausting. Arthur reached out and grabbed my sleeve, his tone softening into something almost like a plea. “Just this once.” The comments exploded: 【Aww, he’s lowering himself to ask her, but she’s still going to refuse and go find that model!】 【The Dragon Lord, abandoned during his heat, only to find his wife with another man. He’ll be heartbroken, and that’s when the female lead comes in to save him. Their love story starts tonight!】 【Just agree! If you don’t, it’s game over for you two tonight!】 【Not only game over, but without his protection, his other admirers are going to torture her half to death.】 A shiver ran down my spine. The refusal on the tip of my tongue took a sharp turn. “Fine. I’ll humor you this time.” The comments went nuts: 【Wait, what? How did she agree?】 Arthur seemed to let out a quiet sigh of relief. Before, I would never have noticed. But now, a comment reading, “A dragon’s Adam’s apple is an erogenous zone,” emboldened me to take a closer look. And that’s when I saw it. The corners of his eyes were tinged with red, a stark contrast to his usual cool demeanor. A suspicious, feverish heat seemed to radiate from his entire body. On a whim, I reached out and touched his Adam’s apple. Arthur shuddered violently, his breath catching in his throat. His Adam’s apple bobbed, and a low groan rumbled from his chest. “You… you…” Startled, I snatched my hand back. “I’m sorry! If you don’t like it, I won’t touch you again!” This was the complete opposite of the “tail-wagging-for-pets” reaction the comments described! 2 The comments fired off in a rapid stream: 【Do you even know how to touch a man? If not, let me! That’s not him disliking it, that’s him getting turned on!】 【Arthur’s inner thoughts: My wife touched my throat! She touched me! Is this my chance to finally become a dad?!】 I looked skeptically from the comments to Arthur. The next second, he grabbed my hand and pressed it firmly against his neck, his voice muffled. “I like it.” My jaw nearly hit the floor. At my core, I’m a shameless simp for a handsome face. The first time I saw Arthur Price three years ago, I was completely smitten. A year ago, when I heard the Price family was arranging a marriage, I fought my way through a sea of heiresses to marry into his family. Who knew that after tying the knot, I’d be living like a widow? The man either slept in the study or a guest room. On the rare occasion he came to our bedroom, he kept an entire galaxy’s worth of distance between us. If it were just that, I could have tolerated it. After all, getting to see Arthur’s handsome face every day was a blessing in itself. But for the past few nights! He kept pulling me into his arms in his sleep, mumbling someone else’s name. “Treasure, Treasure,” he’d whisper, over and over. My name is Nina, damn it, not Treasure! I couldn’t take it anymore. This morning, I was dead set on divorce. But now… I looked at the man whose face was beet red from a single touch. I stroked my chin with my free hand. Maybe I could hold out for a few more days. Based on these comments, we might actually sleep together soon. And I’m supposed to just hand him over to some “female lead” at a time like this? Not a chance in hell. Arthur’s body was rigid, a flash of embarrassed anger on his cool face. “Don’t do that…” He lowered his eyes, his puppy-dog gaze looking a little misty. “Stroking my chin like that… it’s like petting a dog. It’s humiliating.” I snatched my hand back, forcing a laugh. “Sorry, I zoned out. Would you believe I meant to stroke my own chin?” Arthur’s brow furrowed, his expression turning stormy. “Zoned out? Thinking about another man in front of me again?” His gaze was intense. “I saw you touching someone else the other day. Why won’t you touch me?” “Even if I don’t like it, you can’t just… not touch me…” He pressed his lips together, swallowing the rest of his sentence. I was surprised by how much he was talking today, but also a little baffled. “You say you don’t like it, but you’re insisting that I touch you?” “What the hell do you want?!” The comments sighed: 【She’s just impossible. Pushing him right into the female lead’s arms one step at a time.】 My crude words sent Arthur storming off. The comments lamented: 【And with that, he’s gone. By the time they see each other again, everything will have changed.】 3 【I really ship them. If only she could read minds, they wouldn’t have all these misunderstandings.】 【She’s so clueless. No matter how hot the models are, are they hotter than Arthur? More handsome? Do they last longer?】 How would I know if he lasts long? We’ve never even done it. And who said I was going to find a male model? I was going to march right into that kitchen and make my darling husband a bento box. Then I’d take it straight to his office. I was going to see for myself if this guy was really the volcano of passion the comments claimed, ready to erupt from a single touch. While I was cooking, my dad called. “Sweetheart, I hear Arthur is taking you to the gala tonight?” “Mhm,” I said, arranging cooked corn kernels into a heart shape. My dad’s voice was earnest. “Honey, maybe don’t go out carousing tonight, okay?” “And delete some of those guys from your phone. You don’t need so many contacts.” I paused. I remembered going out for drinks with friends a few days ago. I had indeed added a lot of new contacts. “Okay, Dad, I know.” “Gotta go, I’m making a special bento for Arthur. I have to deliver it soon.” Maybe it was the thrill of my long-held crush finally seeing the light of day, but my hands were shaking by the time I got to the Price Corporation building. Suddenly, the comments started up again: 【Why is she here now? If I remember correctly, the female lead is applying for the secretary position today. She’s probably in Arthur’s office right now.】 【This is going to be a train wreck of epic proportions. I can’t watch…】 Not on my watch! I quickened my pace into the building. Just as I was about to get on the elevator, the receptionist stopped me. “Hello, do you have an appointment?” An appointment? “No, but I’m—” The receptionist cut me off before I could finish. “Without an appointment, you’ll have to wait in the lobby. I can schedule one for you.” Another receptionist sneered. “Ashley, don’t be so soft. We get women throwing themselves at Mr. Price all the time.” “Why book her an appointment? If you ask me, we should just throw out anyone trying to sleep her way to the top.” The woman called Ashley frowned. “Don’t be rude.” I sighed and pulled out my phone to call Arthur’s executive assistant, Mr. Davis. “I’m at the front desk. Could you come get me?” Two minutes later, to the utter shock of the receptionists, I was riding the private executive elevator with Mr. Davis. As we reached the office, before we even went in, I could hear voices from inside. A delicate female voice cried out. “Mr. Price, what’s wrong?” “Oh my god, you’re burning up! Do you need help?” 4 Arthur’s cool voice followed, laced with exhaustion. “No. Don’t touch me. Just get out.” The sound of shattering glass, then the woman’s voice rose. “How can I leave you alone like this? Don’t worry, I’ll take you to the hospital.” Arthur’s voice was now thick with anger. “I said don’t touch me. Get away from me.” Mr. Davis glanced at me, his expression awkward, but he pushed the door open for me. The room was a mess. A woman with flushed cheeks was holding onto Arthur’s arm. When her gaze fell on me, her pretty, doe-like eyes filled with a timid fear. She spoke demurely. “Mr. Price is sick. As a secretarial candidate, it’s my duty to take care of him.” Mr. Davis’s face hardened. He went over and supported Arthur himself. “You haven’t passed the interview yet. You’re not needed here. Please leave.” Arthur looked terrible. The hair at his temples was soaked with sweat. He looked at me, tried to speak, but only managed a pained grunt. Mr. Davis called to me. “Mrs. Price, please, come closer.” “Mr. Price… he needs you right now.” I hesitated, feeling like something was about to happen if I got any closer. But then I thought, what’s the worst that could happen? We end up sleeping together right here? Isn’t that why I married him in the first place? What was I so afraid of? I gave myself a mental pep talk, took Mr. Davis’s place, and supported Arthur. His body was terrifyingly hot. The moment I touched him, he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into a tight embrace. He rested his chin on my shoulder, his breathing ragged and chaotic. Mr. Davis closed the door and left. Arthur shifted restlessly against me, like a big, miserable dog. 【What’s happening? Did he just kick the female lead out?】 【Isn’t helping him with his heat the female lead’s job? Why is the side character doing it?】 【The side character is fine too! Is this train about to leave the station? Go for it! Don’t let that dragon get away!】 My body was stiff. I didn’t dare move. “Um, I brought you lunch. Are you hungry? Want a bite?” 【I can’t with her. He wants to eat you, you idiot.】 【Stop asking if he wants to eat and kiss him now! Only a wild, passionate f*ck can satisfy him.】 【Are you guys crazy? If she satisfies him, what happens to the female lead? The main couple is the OTP!】 【Who cares about the OTP! I just want some smut, or my VIP subscription is a waste! Go, girl, go!】 The comments were making me antsy. My inhibitions were crumbling. I was just about to grab Arthur’s face and kiss him when he pushed me away, his expression screaming stay away from me. “Sorry. I’ll handle this myself. I won’t hold you like that again.” I flared up. He held me, he rubbed against me, and now he was saying he wouldn’t do it again? What was that supposed to mean? Was I not good enough to hold? “Fine. Should I go get that secretary for you?” I shot him a sidelong glance, waiting for his answer. Suddenly, I felt something cold and scaly slithering around my calf. I looked down and almost fainted. 5 A thick, black dragon tail, its scales shimmering in the sunlight. My hand trembled as I pointed. “Y-y-you…” Do monsters not even bother to hide anymore? Wrapping his tail around me in broad daylight? Arthur’s body went rigid for a second. He reached down to grab his tail. “Sorry, I…” I wasn’t listening anymore. It was terrifying. The tail was so creepy, and Arthur’s eyes had turned into vertical, dark green slits. For a moment, I thought I was seeing Godzilla. I turned to run, but he yanked me back. The dragon tail wrapped around my ankle again, and Arthur’s scorching body pressed against my back. His voice was hoarse and pleading, like a wet, pathetic puppy. “Don’t be afraid of me. Please.” 【Wasn’t he supposed to reveal his S-form tonight? Why is it happening now…】 【His soft, sweet wife is right there. He couldn’t hold it in anymore.】 【This is what you get for being so repressed all the time. Now you’ve blown your cover and scared your wife half to death.】 【Does this mean we’re getting an office play scene? I’m waiting!】 I stood frozen, trying to soothe him. “I didn’t see anything. I won’t tell anyone. Just don’t…” Before I could finish, sharp teeth grazed the skin on my neck. It didn’t hurt, just tickled. I was even more terrified. “Don’t scare me. Put the teeth away.” “I’m just a normal person. I can’t handle you taking a bite out of me.” How could he be so cruel? I just wanted to sleep with him, and he wanted to kill me. His ragged breathing hitched. The pressure on my neck disappeared. Arthur let me go, steadied his breathing, and said softly, “Go. I won’t force you.” I bolted. I’ve been afraid of Godzilla since I was a kid. I thought, based on the comments, that lust would conquer fear. Arthur was so ridiculously handsome, I could have accepted him being a dragon. But after today, I was done. His tail comes out and I start shaking. How is this supposed to work? It’s not! 【Wait, what? You’re just going to leave him like that?】 【He couldn’t even control his S-form! Leaving him now is like a death sentence!】 【If a shifter in heat doesn’t get relief, it’s really dangerous. They can get a high fever, even have seizures.】 I stopped in my tracks, my heart twisting in indecision. Arthur… was in danger? Maybe… I should go back and check on him? I turned and started walking back to his office. The comments erupted: 【Here we go, here we go! The iconic scene is about to happen!】 【I just hope when she sees it, she doesn’t blame him.】 6 In the end, I didn’t go back. Because the comments told me exactly what the “iconic scene” was. 【He’s in there right now, masturbating to her picture.】 【Don’t blame him! It’s the only way he can get any relief right now.】 【Even though the scene is censored, just the text description is so hot, I can’t take it.】 I couldn’t take it either. I slapped my forehead and hurried out of the Price building. My phone kept buzzing. It was messages from the male model I’d added a few days ago. 【Hey, gorgeous. Are you going to the Price gala tonight?】 【I’ve missed you so much since we last met. I wish I’d met you sooner.】 【You mentioned last time that your husband can’t get it up. I remember.】 【I brought some pills this time. I guarantee you’ll be satisfied~】 I frowned. That didn’t sound right. When had I ever told an outsider that Arthur couldn’t perform? The most I’d said was that he was cold and made me sleep alone every night. I checked the contact name. A model named Cody. Didn’t ring a bell. Whatever. At a time like this, who cares who he was? Delete. 【My husband is great, actually. I’ve turned over a new leaf. Don’t contact me again.】 I still didn’t know if Arthur was “great,” but his tail and fangs certainly were. If he ever found out I was texting male models behind his back, he’d never let me live it down. I didn’t need that kind of trouble. As I left the building, I saw a beautiful, fragile-looking woman standing by the entrance. When she saw me, she immediately glided over. “Hello, Mrs. Price. I’m here to apply for the position of Mr. Price’s secretary.” She held out her hand, her posture a little arrogant. I paused, then shook it, giving it a firm squeeze. Bianca winced, her pretty face contorting for a second. I felt much better. Revenge is a dish best served immediately. That’s what you get for being so high and mighty. I could crush you. Bianca gritted her teeth, her tone mocking. “Mrs. Price, if I were you, I’d have a little self-awareness.” “I hear you’ve been married for a year and still sleep in separate beds? It’s obvious Mr. Price has no interest in you.” “Someone from a no-name family like yours might have the title of Mrs. Price, but you won’t hold onto it for long.” I gave her a strange look. “Who told you my family is no-name? My dad’s company has an annual net worth in the billions.” She fell silent, her face a mask of disbelief. She opened her mouth to argue. I pinched her mouth shut. “Quiet. My head is a mess right now. I don’t have time for your games.” “And for the record, Arthur likes me a lot. He was just holding me and calling me his darling baby a minute ago.” Bianca muffled a protest, her face turning red with anger. I fished a business card out of my pocket. “You seem qualified. Don’t waste your time chasing after one man.” “Come work for my company. I’ll double your salary. Think about it and call me anytime.”

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To remove the scars on his “real” sister’s arms, my brother forced me to give up my skin. He personally strapped me to the operating table and ordered the surgeon to flay me alive. To ensure the graft’s success, he forbade anesthesia, forcing me to wake up screaming from the pain only to pass out again. When the surgery ended, the floor was soaked in blood. I was left barely breathing, stripped of most of my skin, a raw, bloody mess. Through the haze of agony, I heard my brother’s voice from the hallway: “No one touches her without my order. It’s just a little pain. She needs to feel every second of it.” My blood drained away, drop by drop. Infection set in, ravaging my body. In my final moments, I tried to call him, to say one last word. But his voice came through the phone, cold and cruel: “You lose a patch of skin and act like you’re dying? Did you think about how much it hurt Bella when you hurt her? If you want to see me, wait until you’re dead!” But when he found out I was actually dead, he went insane. 1 When Mrs. Zhou carried my urn back to the orphanage, a group of men were tearing the place apart. The children were screaming in terror. A tall, cold man stood in the distance, frowning in disgust. That was my brother, Ethan. Mrs. Zhou shielded the children behind her, her voice hoarse. “Ethan, you tortured Annie to death. Why can’t you leave her final resting place alone?” Ethan sneered. “She hurt her face and couldn’t sell herself anymore, so now she’s faking her death to scam me for money?” “Tell her it won’t work. Bella’s arm is scarred because of her. If she doesn’t get out here right now and give Bella her skin, I’ll bulldoze this orphanage to the ground!” Mrs. Zhou swayed on her feet. She clutched my urn tightly. “She can’t. Annie is dead. You can’t hurt her anymore.” Ethan glanced at her impatiently, then suddenly reached out and slapped the box out of her hands. Crash. The urn shattered. My ashes spilled across the cold floor. Ethan wasn’t satisfied. He stepped forward and ground his expensive leather shoe into the pile of grey-white dust. Mrs. Zhou screamed, her eyes wide with horror, and lunged at him. “You’re crazy! She was your sister!” “I don’t have such a vicious sister!” Ethan kicked Mrs. Zhou away, then stomped hard on her hand, crushing her fingers against the floor. “If she was so evil, shouldn’t her ashes be black?” “You really committed to the bit. Begging at my feet like a dog for money wasn’t enough? Now you’re faking ashes to scam me?” Mrs. Zhou convulsed in pain, but her eyes never left my scattered remains. Her tears had run dry. She could only ask, over and over again. “She was your sister… she was my Annie… why can’t you let her go, even in death?” Ethan kicked her again, venting his rage. “I wish she had died sooner. But until she pays for her sins, how dare that little monster die?” Every time he moved, his shoes kicked up clouds of my ashes. It wasn’t until his bodyguards reported they couldn’t find me in the building that he stopped. He wiped his dusty shoes on Mrs. Zhou’s clothes in disgust, then stomped on her shoulder, as if trying to shatter the bone. “Still covering for her? Tell her to show herself by tomorrow morning. Or else this orphanage, and every brat in it, will pay the price!” The malice in his eyes was crystal clear. As he turned to leave, he made sure to stomp on my ashes one last time. Dozens of bodyguards followed him, their boots tracking my remains all over the courtyard. My heart shattered. I tried to rush forward, to help Mrs. Zhou as she desperately tried to gather what was left of me. But my spirit passed right through her. Pain, sharp and suffocating, seized me. Right. I’m dead. Even if I were alive, I didn’t have a single patch of good skin left to give Bella. So please, Ethan. Let Mrs. Zhou go. Silence finally returned to the courtyard. Mrs. Zhou dragged her broken body across the floor, scooping up my ashes with trembling hands. The urn was smashed to pieces. Sharp splinters pierced her palms, blood mixing with the grey dust. But she didn’t seem to notice. She carefully pieced the box back together, treating every grain of ash like a precious jewel. When she finished, she acted as if nothing had happened, preparing dinner for the children. Only when she was alone did she allow herself to cough up blood. Shaking, she lifted her shirt. The bandages around her abdomen were soaked red. I cried, trying to hug her. That was the wound from when she sold her own blood, over and over, trying to raise money for my surgery. It wasn’t enough. So she knelt before Ethan, begging him for a loan. But Ethan was busy buying Bella a new car. When he saw Mrs. Zhou blocking his path, he kicked her aside without a second thought. She lay bleeding on the pavement for hours that day. But she still tried to find a way for me to live. She waited all day, only to receive the news of my death. Old wounds reopened, new injuries added. Mrs. Zhou’s face was ashen. I clung to her, sobbing silently. She was only fifty, but she looked eighty. When I was five, disfigured and abandoned, she took me in when no one else would. When I was eighteen, dying of snake venom and kicked out by my biological family, she fought the grim reaper for my life. I didn’t want anything for myself anymore. I just wanted to help her protect the orphanage. But in the end, my existence became the curse that destroyed it. 2 Before dawn, Mrs. Zhou dragged her injured body around, packing bags for the children. But she wasn’t fast enough. The roar of an excavator shattered the morning silence as it rammed the front gate. Mrs. Zhou rushed in front of the machine. “You’ll have to drive over my dead body before you touch this place!” A scoff came from the side. The window of a luxury sedan rolled down. “Just hand over that bitch Annie. Or do you think I actually want to be in this filthy dump?” Mrs. Zhou couldn’t stand anymore. She sat on a chair, her white hair blowing in the wind. “Annie is dust. You stepped on her yesterday.” Ethan laughed loudly. “Still lying? Annie is probably warming some old rich man’s bed right now. How much did she pay you to cover for her?” Mrs. Zhou’s shoulders shook violently. She pointed a trembling finger at him. “Ethan, she was your sister! She’s dead! Why do you have to humiliate her like this?” “I don’t have a sister like her. My only sister is Bella!” Beside him, Bella looked pale and fragile. She tugged gently on his sleeve. “Ethan, don’t be mad. I’ll just kneel and apologize to her like always. She’ll forgive me eventually…” She opened the door to get out. Ethan grabbed her arm, his eyes filled with a tenderness I had never seen directed at me. He hugged her tightly, his eyes red. “My poor sister… you’ve suffered so much. It’s all my fault for not protecting you.” Bella smiled bravely, tears streaming down her face. “No, Ethan. Being with you makes me happy.” She carefully lifted her sleeve, revealing gauze stained with blood. “It doesn’t hurt anymore, Ethan. I just want to be with you. I just want Annie to accept me.” Her tears made Ethan clench his fists. He punched the steering wheel, screaming my name, then turned to comfort her. “Don’t worry. She doesn’t have a say in this family. When I find her, I’ll make her wish she was never born!” But I already wished that. I floated beside Mrs. Zhou, my soul tearing apart with grief. I stopped expecting love a long time ago. But Ethan… Bella only needed a small patch of skin. You ordered them to skin me alive. You took so much that I couldn’t survive. After comforting Bella, Ethan gave the order. His men swarmed the orphanage. Terrified children were thrown out into the cold. Mrs. Zhou’s cherished furniture was smashed to pieces. Amidst the chaos, Mrs. Zhou charged forward, only to be shoved to the ground. She coughed up blood. She ignored it, pulling a crumpled paper from her pocket with shaking hands. “Ethan! You don’t believe me, but surely you believe a death certificate from the hospital!” I saw Ethan’s body stiffen. He finally got out of the car. But before he could take the paper, Mrs. Zhou’s phone lit up on the ground. It was an email I had scheduled to send her. The subject line [FROM ANNIE] glowed bright. Ethan let out a strange, strangled laugh. He grabbed a thermos from a nearby table and smashed it over Mrs. Zhou’s head. “You two should be in Hollywood!” “I almost fell for it again! That bitch is still playing games!” “Since you want to die, fine! I’ll help you! Destroy it all!” The excavators roared to life like hungry beasts. The building, filled with the laughter of children and my only happy memories, collapsed into rubble. Mrs. Zhou tried to stop them with her frail body, getting cut and bruised by flying debris. “No! Stop! That was…” Her voice was drowned out by the noise. I forgot I was dead. I threw myself in front of the machines, trying to stop them. They passed right through me. I fell to my knees, pounding the ground, weeping tears of blood. Ethan, why wouldn’t you just look? You could have seen. Those were scheduled emails. Every single one was a suicide note! Mrs. Zhou and the children were held back by bodyguards, forced to watch their home turn to dust. I cried until I was numb. I saw a glint of excitement in Ethan’s eyes. I always knew. He hated me, but he hated this orphanage even more. Because this was where his greatest humiliation had occurred. 3 “Cough, cough…” Hearing Bella’s weak cough, Ethan rushed back to the car and rolled up the windows. “Ugh, this dust is as dirty as Annie!” “Hold on, Bella. We’re going back to the hospital right now.” Bella coughed the whole way. Ethan was sweating with panic, calling the hospital director to be ready at the door. He didn’t forget to curse me. “Annie is a plague. If it weren’t for her, you wouldn’t be suffering like this!” When the test results came back, Ethan jumped out of his chair. Bella was rejecting the graft. It could be fatal. The most effective treatment was a full blood transfusion from me. Before Ethan could speak, Bella struggled to sit up, eyes teary and fragile. “Ethan, no. We can’t hurt Annie anymore.” “I stole her place. This is my punishment. Don’t hurt her for me. Just let me die… I’m just going to miss you so much!” She hugged him and wailed, acting like she was on death’s door. Ethan was heartbroken. “What are you saying? I won’t let you die. You are my heart. If you die, I won’t survive.” “Don’t worry. Dead or alive, I will find Annie and drain every drop of her blood for you.” I watched their touching scene with a cold sneer. Oh, so Bella knew she stole my life? I was kidnapped at five. I fell down a hill, and a branch slashed my face, leaving a scar that cut to the bone. Mrs. Zhou found me and raised me for five years. When I was finally returned to my biological family, I found out “I” had been there the whole time. It was Bella. Ethan claimed they used her as a stand-in to avoid gossip. But when my father and Ethan saw the centipede-like scar on my face, they never mentioned switching us back. From then on, I was Annie. Named for “Silence.” They gave me clothes and jewelry, but their eyes were filled with disgust. When a group of rich girls screamed and cried at the sight of my face, I was officially banished from the main house to live with the servants. I saw Bella hiding behind a pillar, snickering. My school, my parties, my debutante ball… she took them all. When I went to register for college, Bella told me my acceptance letter was hers now. I didn’t believe her until she showed me the letter. The name on it had been changed to Bella. Before I could get angry, she whispered in my ear, triumph dripping from her voice. “Everything of yours is mine. Including that scar on your face. I was the one who threw the rock.” The memory flashed back. It wasn’t a branch. It was a rock. I slapped her. Ethan shoved me to the ground. My hand brushed against something cold. My parents and Ethan rushed Bella to the hospital, not sparing me a glance. Pain shot up my arm. A venomous snake was sunk into my flesh. I shook it off, but the poison was already in my veins. I used my last bit of strength to call 911. When I woke up, Mrs. Zhou was by my side. After that, Ethan gave me $50,000 and kicked me out of the family. Bella had taken everything. So now, she wanted my skin, my blood, my life? Was this all part of the plan? Search all you want, Ethan. I’m curious to see your face when you realize you’re the one who scattered my ashes to the wind. 4 The bodyguards reported that the IP address for the emails was coming from the Sacred Heart Cosmetic Surgery Clinic. Ethan stormed over. In the hallway, two janitors were gossiping. “Time to find a new job. Did you hear about the malpractice?” “A girl was skinned alive without anesthesia. They forgot about her in the OR.” “By the time they found her, the blood had soaked through the floorboards.” “If it hadn’t leaked into the ceiling below, she would have rotted there.” “Martha fainted when she went to clean it up. She said she scrubbed it twenty times and the water was still red.” Ethan froze. He grabbed one of the janitors. “The girl… did she have a scar across her face?” The janitor shook her head. “I didn’t see her face, but I heard she used to be beautiful.” Ethan exhaled, releasing her. Mrs. Zhou was disfigured and old. “Beautiful” wasn’t a word used for her anymore. I laughed at him. He was the one who ruined Mrs. Zhou, yet he couldn’t even remember what she looked like. Ethan looked at my discharge records and slammed his hand on the desk. “Bitch! She’s spoofing the IP address to mock me! She’s hiding somewhere laughing at me!” “Go tie up that old woman, Mrs. Zhou. Torture her until she talks!” Hearing Mrs. Zhou’s name, my numb soul roared with rage. I tried to slap him. I paid my debt with my life! Why drag her into this? You always believe your own twisted logic. Why couldn’t you trust me just once? Just as his men were leaving, the hospital director ran over, sweating. “Mr. Chu! Bad news!” “Miss Bella is rejecting the graft. She needs to be in the ICU, but she’s demanding to leave. Please go talk to her.” Ethan ran, ignoring his twisted ankle. When he arrived, Bella was slumped against the wall, pale as a ghost. Doctors surrounded her helplessly. “Bella, what are you doing? You’re killing me!” “Ethan…” Bella wept. “Someone sent me photos of Annie. It’s all my fault. I have to go apologize. She shouldn’t degrade herself like this.” She tried to stand, then fainted into his arms. “Bella!” Ethan held her, his eyes murderous. While she was being treated, Ethan took her phone and posted the photos online without hesitation. The photos showed “me”—with my horrific scar—sleeping with various men. Old, fat, ugly men. Surrounded by disgusting paraphernalia. The photos went viral instantly. Thousands of comments called me a whore and a monster. Ethan scrolled through the vile comments with satisfaction. “Let’s see who will hide you now. When you’re thrown onto the street, I’ll be the first to spit on you!” Minutes later, his smile vanished. He saw a new trending topic. [Woman Livestreams Suicide Attempt from Chu Corp Headquarters Roof] It was Mrs. Zhou.

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