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After eight years of pursuing Liam Sterling, the paraplegic “Monk,” he finally showed 1% affection for me and took me to a concert. But the star of the concert looked just like his first love. Disheartened, I was about to leave when terrorists attacked. The “paraplegic” Monk suddenly stood up from his wheelchair, pushed me aside, and rushed onto the stage to take a bullet for the star. Because of his push, I got shot too. The system declared my mission failed. At that moment, I activated the “No Love, No Desire” system. Once activated, I would lose all emotions and desires, loving no one. Chapter 1 Chaos erupted at the concert. On stage, Liam Sterling held Chloe tightly. Panic was written all over his face. He ignored the bullet wound in his own arm, his eyes fixed only on Chloe. “Are you okay? Don’t scare me.” “Please, don’t die.” It was the first time I’d seen Liam so flustered. After all, he was known as the aloof “Monk,” never moved by worldly matters. Only now did I realize he had lied to me for eight years. He was never paralyzed; he just pretended to be for eight years. I lay on the ground, watching my own blood pool around me. My heart hurt so much. [Host, your mission failed because you are dying.] The System’s voice rang in my ears. I remembered I had been pursuing Liam for eight years. Today, I was happy because his affection for me had finally ticked up to 1%. But now I understood. He just wanted to see Chloe. The woman who looked like his first love. [The exit channel is being constructed. Estimated time: three days. Host, you can leave in three days.] As the System spoke, I saw Liam pick Chloe up. His eyes were red, shouting for a doctor. “Doctor! Where’s a doctor?! Save her!” His eyes were full of this stranger, with no room for me. How laughable. I followed him for eight years and never earned his love. “System, I agree to leave. But before that, please activate the ‘No Love, No Desire’ system.” My voice choked, tears falling. The “No Love, No Desire” system was a reward I got from a previous mission, never used. The System was surprised: [Host, with only three days left, you still want to activate this system?] “Yes.” I answered without hesitation, staring at Liam. He had already left with Chloe in his arms, forgetting I even existed. My heart died completely in that moment. [Okay, Host. ‘No Love, No Desire’ system activated. You will gradually lose all emotions and desires, loving no one.] I closed my eyes, letting one last tear fall. Liam Sterling, this is the eighth year I’ve loved you. Today, I finally give up on you. Someone once said, you can never wake a person who is pretending to be asleep. Just like how I pursued Liam for eight years, yet never moved his heart. Chapter 2 When I was rushed to the hospital, voices buzzed around me. “Liam Sterling actually carried a woman into the hospital.” “Didn’t he declare himself a ‘Monk,’ never touching women?” “That woman looks familiar. She looks like Liam’s first love.” “Years ago, Liam turned to Buddhism because his first love died. Now that someone so similar appeared, of course he panicked.” Lying on the gurney, I felt cold all over. When I first came to this world, Liam’s first love had just died, and he had just become reclusive. The System said he was hard to conquer, but I didn’t believe it. I believed that as long as he was human, he had emotions and could be moved. Now I knew how wrong I was. After being wheeled into the operating room, the System told me: [Host, the bullet hit your abdomen. You wouldn’t have survived, but since the exit channel isn’t ready, I’m keeping you alive.] [By the way, you were pregnant. The fetus was hit by the bullet. Medically, it can’t survive. I can’t revive it.] I froze. “What?” “I was pregnant?” [Yes. Didn’t you know?] Of course I didn’t know. Liam and I rarely had physical intimacy. The only time was on the anniversary of his first love’s death, when he got drunk. He mistook me for her. I thought just once wouldn’t result in pregnancy. [Host, your child is dead.] [For the next three days, I wish you a good life.] Tears fell like hot pearls. Liam was the only target I ever loved. I really wanted to have a child with him. But now, the child was gone. I would never forget the moment terrorists entered the concert, and Liam pushed me away hard. He rushed to Chloe without hesitation, shielding her, taking a bullet for her. Eight years, and I never made it into his heart. When I woke up again, I was in a hospital room. Liam was lying in the bed next to mine. He was looking at me, slightly dazed. “Are… are you okay?” I looked at the thick gauze on my abdomen and chuckled lightly. “What do you think?” “I’m sorry.” “The situation was critical. I just wanted to save Chloe. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” “By the way, about my legs… I lied to my family about being paralyzed because I didn’t want them setting me up on blind dates.” His tone was polite, as always. Eight years by his side, and we were still strangers. “You don’t need to explain.” In the future, we have nothing to do with each other. I couldn’t bring myself to say that sentence. After all, I had loved Liam deeply. “Don’t worry. I’ll hire the best doctors for you.” He spoke again. Once, I craved his concern. Now, his concern only disgusted me. “No need.” I replied coldly, turning my back to him. Chapter 3 The System alerted me: [Host, Liam’s affection value for you has risen to 10%.] I was startled. How is that possible? I did nothing. Why did his affection suddenly rise? [Host, I can give you a chance if you want to continue the mission.] “No need.” I refused immediately. Eight years of chasing, I was tired. I never wanted to do it again. Thinking of this, I felt my love for Liam fading bit by bit. I knew my emotions were disappearing. The doctor suddenly came in to update me on my condition. “You were shot in the abdomen. The fetus was hit too, so we couldn’t save it.” “What?” Liam spoke first. The always steady, aloof Monk had disbelief in his eyes. “She was pregnant?” “Yes, Mr. Sterling. We tried our best, but we really did all we could.” I touched my abdomen. There used to be a little life there. Now it was gone. After the doctor left, Liam got out of bed and held my hand. “Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant?” Maybe I was seeing things, but there seemed to be a trace of heartache in his eyes. But how could he ache for me? He never gave me a kind look. Back then, I took care of him daily, massaged his legs. He never said a word to me, only smashed things and told me to get out. Once, for his birthday, I made him a cake. He threw it in the trash without hesitation. He said, “Stop making useless efforts. I won’t love you.” Then he would go to his study, look at his first love’s portrait, and touch her collarbone. Muttering how much he loved her. Even later, when his family urged him to marry me, he refused. Now I’ve accepted it. I disturbed his life. I should exit. Chapter 4 Chloe pushed the door open. Carrying a fruit basket, she smiled when she saw Liam. “You’re really here.” “Mr. Sterling, thank you for saving me.” She walked over, put down the basket, and took out a string of black prayer beads. “Oh, you dropped this when you saved me.” Liam took it with a gentle expression and asked, “Are you okay?” My heart felt stabbed. My existence felt laughable. Once, I accidentally touched those black beads, and he kicked me out of the house. He told me coldly, “That’s not for you to touch. Know your place.” Yes, I understand now. I should know my place. To him, I was just an irrelevant stranger. Chloe went to wash strawberries for Liam. He ate them. But he never liked strawberries. Just because his first love died on the way to pick strawberries. I lay in bed, breathing hurt. Soon, I would lose all emotions and never feel sad again. “Mr. Sterling, who is this?” Chloe suddenly looked at me. Liam froze, looking at me with complicated eyes. After a few seconds of silence, he said, “She’s my assistant.” Assistant. I gripped the bedsheet. Taking care of his food, clothing, and life for eight years like a nanny. Indeed, assistant work. I didn’t refute him, just lay there.

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After my parents’ divorce, my younger brother chose to live with Dad, who got all the assets. I was left with my destitute Mom. Who knew Dad would suddenly go bankrupt and end up in prison, while Mom started a company and made a fortune? Consumed by jealousy and hatred, my brother pushed me off a high-rise building, killing me instantly. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the divorce. This time, my brother grabbed Mom’s hand and declared, “I love Mommy the most. I want to live with her.” I cheered internally. Perfect. I never wanted to relive that hellish life anyway! Chapter 1 My parents slapped the divorce papers on the table. My brother, Tyler, immediately rushed over and hugged Mom’s arm. “I love Mommy the most. I want to live with her.” Dad frowned, looking at Tyler with concern. “Ty-Ty, listen to me. Mom doesn’t have any money. You won’t have a good life with her. Stay with me, let Excess go with your Mom.” Mom nodded. “Excess is tough. She can handle it. Let her come with me, and Ty-Ty can stay with his Dad.” “Excess” was their nickname for me. My real name is Emily, but to them, I was just the extra one. They had me when they were barely out of high school, way too young. They dumped me on my grandma in the countryside and didn’t take me back until I was eight. So, they had zero affection for me and didn’t care about my opinion. But since Tyler knew that Dad ended up in prison in our past life, there was no way he’d choose to suffer with him. Sure enough, he pressed his lips together and shook his head firmly. Dad wouldn’t give up. “Ty-Ty, listen to Dad. Dad has money. Dad can give you a good life. You’ll suffer with Mom.” But Tyler turned his head, clutching Mom’s arm with unusual determination. “No! Rich or poor, I want to be with Mommy. I love Mommy.” “Mommy’s good boy.” Mom looked touched. Dad sighed helplessly. “If you’ve made up your mind, Dad respects your decision. But if you have any problems, Ty-Ty, you tell Dad immediately.” Tyler nodded, hiding the excitement in his eyes. He glanced at me and gave a malicious smile. “Sister must be happy. You get to live the good life with Dad now!” I nodded blankly, but inside, I was popping champagne. Perfect. I never have to experience that living hell with Mom again. Tyler had no idea what dark secrets lay behind Mom’s “successful company.” That road wasn’t easy. I looked at Tyler with complicated eyes. “You made your choice. Don’t regret it.” “Hmph, how could I regret being with Mom? You just make sure you don’t come crying to me later!” With that, he held Mom’s hand and walked out without looking back. Watching their retreating figures, I couldn’t help but recall the misery of my past life. Mom didn’t know how to do chores and refused to work low-paying jobs. Living with her, I had to do all the housework and even collect cans at night to buy groceries for the next day. Less than a year into high school, Mom forced me to drop out because she couldn’t afford tuition. Later, I washed dishes and waited tables to save up for tuition myself, but Mom got addicted to gambling. We had to move constantly to hide from debt collectors… “Emily, I’m warning you. I’m living at your Auntie Evelyn’s house now. She’s a public figure. When we go in, lose that trashy look!” Dad’s impatient voice pulled me back to reality. Seeing the disgust in his eyes, I really wanted to ask: if you hate me so much, why did you have me? At home, I was like a little maid—insecure, sensitive, shrinking. Tyler was the treasured prince—lively and confident. Compared to him, of course I looked “trashy.” “Also, I’ve fired all the servants at your Auntie’s house. You’ll do all the chores. You like doing them anyway,” Dad said matter-of-factly. A trace of mockery flashed in my eyes. So Tyler is the young master who shouldn’t lift a finger, and I’m the born servant? Whatever. I never expected any love from them anyway. Soon, the car pulled into a mansion halfway up the hill within a gated community in Beverly Hills. Looking at the beautiful gardens along the way, I could barely blink. But seeing Dad’s fawning smile at the elegant woman at the door, I vaguely understood who really wore the pants in this house. Chapter 2 Auntie Evelyn turned out to be Evelyn Lawrence, the movie star I always saw on TV. Seeing a screen idol in person, I was nervous, but she showed unexpected kindness. As she led me inside, Auntie Evelyn patted my hand gently. “Don’t be nervous. This is your home now.” Seeing the sincerity in her eyes, my eyes felt hot. “Thank you.” Auntie Evelyn was truly a good person. She couldn’t have children due to an injury on set, so she sponsored many children in foster care. After I arrived, she didn’t make me do any chores. She gave me a large, sunny room and bought me lots of comfortable new clothes. Knowing I went to the worst public school, she transferred me to a prestigious private girls’ high school. The facilities and environment were superior, and the students were much more refined. I was overwhelmed with gratitude and swore to study hard so I wouldn’t let Auntie Evelyn down. I studied desperately at school and burned the midnight oil at home. My only entertainment was mimicking Auntie Evelyn’s acting. “A chicken can’t become a phoenix. You’re not as smart as Tyler. Why bother? Just drop out and get married. You’ll be even more worthless when you’re older.” Dad always mocked my efforts. I ignored him and charged forward blindly. Finally, after a semester of hard work, my name appeared on the top of the Honor Roll. I even won a city-wide award for a drama performance. When my homeroom teacher called to invite Dad to share his parenting tips, his jaw nearly hit the floor. Actually, I always had good grades when I was little, always top three. But after I was brought back at eight, my parents forced me to do all the chores. Cooking, dishes, laundry until midnight—how could I study? But now it was different. Auntie Evelyn’s support was my backbone! As I brought home more awards, Dad’s gaze softened. Once, Auntie Evelyn came to a parent-teacher conference, causing a sensation. Her industry friends and reporters praised me, saying I was as driven as she was in her youth, and that I had a bright future. Auntie Evelyn smiled and accepted it all. “The child is excellent on her own. I did very little.” Influenced by Auntie Evelyn, I took the art exams in my senior year and secured the top score in the city. Auntie Evelyn suggested I apply to the film academy in LA, saying she had connections. But Dad furiously vetoed it. “Film school costs a fortune! Does a village girl deserve that? No!” I knew Dad refused because he always looked down on me. And because Tyler’s grades were terrible now, he didn’t want me to outshine him too much. Chapter 3 Seeing my biological father’s firm opposition, Auntie Evelyn had to give up. She patted my head. “Academic route is fine too. Emily wants to study law, right? Stanford has one of the best law schools.” She had realized that Dad didn’t care about me, his daughter. He even held a strange malice toward me. But she was a dignified woman. Plus, Dad had saved her from a falling prop on set once. She treated Dad as her savior and rarely refused him. That’s why in my past life, she funded Dad’s company, making me think he was rich. As for Mom, Dad had been dissatisfied with her since meeting Auntie Evelyn. Mom was lazy and playful, so he encouraged her gambling addiction, then used it as grounds for divorce. I looked at the concerned Auntie Evelyn and thought it was okay. Film school would have been great with her resources, but it might take me away. I couldn’t bear to leave Auntie Evelyn. And I kept thinking about how she and Dad went bankrupt and to jail in my past life. Studying law might help. So the film school idea was dropped, and I focused on my academics. I knew Mom was lazy. Tyler wouldn’t last long with her. But I didn’t expect him to come back so soon, and in such a despicable way. One afternoon, Auntie Evelyn and I returned from lunch to find Tyler curled up at the gate, covered in bruises. Seeing us, he knelt and cried, tears streaming down his face. He said Mom had no money, they lived in the slums, and he got bullied by thugs on his way home from school. “Dad, please save me! If you don’t take me in, I’m dead.” “You’re Auntie Evelyn, right? Please have mercy. They said they’d kill me tonight. I can’t go back.” Dad was heartbroken. He helped him up, calling him “My precious Ty-Ty,” promising to call the police. Tyler hurriedly explained it was too dark to see their faces, begging Dad to just let him stay for a while. Auntie Evelyn frowned silently. I knew she saw through Tyler’s lies. She was an Oscar winner. Tyler’s acting and fake bruises were a joke to her. But Dad was adamant about keeping him, his tone leaving no room for argument. She reluctantly agreed. The night Tyler moved in, Dad stormed into my room, took all the electronics and expensive gifts Auntie Evelyn gave me, and gave them to Tyler. “Ty-Ty, that waste of space Emily doesn’t deserve these. They’re yours now.” He transferred Tyler to my private school and hired tutors for him. But I knew Tyler was swindling money from teachers and classmates. Living with Mom, he had learned to gamble, and he was addicted. Once, I saw Tyler going into a casino with some shady guys. He was not only fearless but pushed me away viciously. “Tell anyone and I’ll skin you alive!” I frowned. “You’re ruining yourself.” Tyler sneered. “None of your business. What right does a village maid have to lecture me?” “Good dogs don’t block the way. Get lost!” Actually, I didn’t want to manage him. I knew his addiction would grow until he caused a disaster. When that happened, Auntie Evelyn wouldn’t tolerate him. Tyler went to the casino more frequently, needing more money. He used every trick to get money from Dad, eventually even taking out online loans in Auntie Evelyn’s name. I couldn’t sit back anymore. One night, I blocked Tyler at his door, asking if he took out loans. Tyler turned the tables, throwing a loan agreement he took from my room in my face. “You borrowed money and blamed me? Emily, you’re worse than a pig!” Dad glanced at the paper and joined in. “You little slut, borrowing so much money! Fifty thousand! Come to the police station and turn yourself in!” I saw at a glance the agreement was fake; it didn’t even have a stamp. But Dad and Tyler wouldn’t listen, dragging me toward the door. Chapter 4 Just then, Auntie Evelyn came upstairs. “What is going on here?” “Auntie, Tyler gambled and took out loans behind your back. I confronted him, and he framed me.” I broke free and told the truth. Frowning at the self-righteous Tyler, Auntie Evelyn looked at Dad with dissatisfaction. “Joe, I have to say this. Both are your children. Why do you spoil Tyler and abuse Emily? Gambling and loans? Tyler has no future like this.” Dad jumped up. “That loser is lying! I’m her dad, I know! She did it! My Ty-Ty is a good boy!” “Besides, I’m their father. I decide how to treat them!” Auntie Evelyn got angry. “What does that mean? I can’t say a word in my own house?” Tyler forced his way in and stole my things. She was already unhappy. Dad’s words added fuel to the fire. “Joe Zhou, you live off me, and now you bring this lying ingrate into my house! Do you know what Tyler has been doing?” “I’ll tell you. He’s been scamming people and gambling. Debt collectors are calling my phone!” Tyler’s face froze. Exposed, he stopped pretending. “You’re rich anyway. What’s wrong with giving me some?” Dad’s face stiffened, then he agreed matter-of-factly. “Yeah, Ty-Ty is practically your son. What’s a little money?” Auntie Evelyn sneered. “I wouldn’t dare claim such an ingrate as a son.” I couldn’t stand their shamelessness anymore. “Are you crazy? Gambling and scamming are crimes! Why should Auntie Evelyn pay for Tyler’s mess?” Slap! Dad slapped me hard. “None of your business! You ungrateful brat, I should have drowned you in a bucket when you were born!” I covered my face, staring at him in disbelief. The skin bruised instantly. The burning pain and grievance forced tears from my eyes. Auntie Evelyn looked at my face with heartache, then turned and roared at Dad. “Are you insane? Taking it out on the child!” “I’m telling you, Tyler scammed forty thousand and borrowed fifty thousand in loans. It’s almost a hundred thousand. That’s a felony. Wait for him to go to jail!” Hearing this, Dad trembled in fear. He looked at Tyler in disbelief. “Ty-Ty, did you really borrow that much?” But Tyler, thinking there was no proof, kept arguing. “Impossible! Besides, it’s just a hundred grand. She can pay it. Why make a fuss?” Auntie Evelyn trembled with rage. “Why should I pay?” “Get out! Joe, take him and get out!” She called the butler to throw their luggage out. Seeing she was serious, Dad and Tyler were dumbfounded. “You barren old hag! I hope you die tomorrow so I get your inheritance!” Tyler cursed viciously. Dad panicked and covered his mouth, looking at Auntie Evelyn fawningly. “Evie, Ty-Ty is just a kid. Don’t hold it against him. You have the money. Just pay it. Why be so stingy?” Auntie Evelyn was thoroughly disappointed. She hugged me and pointed at the door. “Get out! I never want to see you again!”

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1 After an eight-year relationship, I was pregnant and getting married. At the altar, the officiant asked if I would take Leo Miller as my husband. Just as I was about to say yes, a tiny, childlike voice echoed in my mind. 【Mommy, don’t say yes! My daddy isn’t Leo Miller!】 【Your sister is the one carrying Leo’s baby!】 The two sentences completely short-circuited my brain. The entire wedding party was waiting for my answer, but I was frozen. If the baby in my belly wasn’t Leo’s, then whose was it? The next moment, the little voice continued. 【Silly Mommy, that cheater has been sleeping with your sister for ages! If you marry him, he’s going to lock you in the basement!】 【Quick, call for my real dad’s help! He’s the richest, most handsome man in the audience!】 I was stunned. My eyes involuntarily darted to a man in the front row—the notoriously aloof and untouchable titan of high society, Julian Astor. … Even though it was my wedding, everyone’s attention seemed to gravitate toward him. The man’s presence was magnetic, his looks and aura utterly captivating. I glanced at him, and my gaze met his icy stare. I quickly looked away, my heart pounding. “Sweetie, do you even know who that is?” I thought desperately. “He’s the CEO of the Astor Corporation, the biggest conglomerate in the country. He’s never been seen with a woman. How could you possibly be his child?” “I know Leo isn’t rich, but you can’t just make things up and disown your own father! Honey, you need to face reality.” “It’s a little late to be picking a new dad. Try again in your next life.” I tried to soothe the little voice, assuming he was just being a snob about Leo’s finances. But I never expected him to shout back. 【Have you forgotten that time you woke up in a hotel room?】 【Your fiancé and your sister tricked you, intending to sell you to a client. But you stumbled into the wrong room…】 【The man lying next to you that morning was Julian Astor!】 My jaw dropped. “He’s Julian Astor? I thought it was Leo…” The memories came rushing back like a tidal wave: a dark room, a back covered in red marks, limbs tangled together. Leo was still looking at me with a gentle expression, but all I could see was Julian’s sweat-slicked body, hear his strained, controlled breaths. My hands pinned above my head as he took what he wanted. The famously self-disciplined tycoon was an absolute animal behind closed doors. The officiant, seeing my hesitation, repeated the question. “Ms. Hayes, do you take Mr. Miller to be your lawfully wedded husband?” Leo squeezed my hand, his face etched with concern. “What’s wrong, Chloe? Are you having second thoughts?” He gently stroked my palm. “Don’t be scared. Once you’re part of my family, I’ll give you everything. I’ll cherish you.” 【Don’t believe a word he says! He bought a villa right next to your new house, a place for him, your sister, and their baby!】 The voice jolted me back to reality. “I don’t!” I shouted. A gasp rippled through the crowd. The Millers were a prominent family in the city of Silver Creek. For me to publicly reject Leo was something no one had anticipated. After all, I had chased him relentlessly for years, shamelessly playing the part of the devoted puppy. Everyone said Chloe Hayes was a wild, shameless flirt. Now that I finally had him, I was throwing it all away. Leo’s face turned ugly. He never imagined I would refuse him at the altar. “Chloe, stop playing around. This is our wedding! If you have a problem with me, we can talk about it later…” 【Later will be too late! My real dad is about to fly overseas to chase after his old flame!】 【Mom, time is running out! Ditch this scumbag and get my handsome, rich daddy back!】 “I’m not marrying him!” I said, my voice firm. My own son wouldn’t lie to me. If he said Leo was a cheater, then I couldn’t marry him. Just then, my sister, Sarah, walked onto the stage, her hand resting on her swollen belly. She stood beside Leo. “Chloe, what’s all this about? Leo agreed to marry you, didn’t he?” As she got closer, I noticed the diamond ring on her finger. It was the exact same style as my wedding ring. But comparing the two, mine looked like cheap plastic. In that instant, everything clicked into place. The baby in my womb was just a pawn in her and Leo’s scheme. As an adopted daughter, she could never marry into the Miller family. I was just a tool, a means for her to secure that alliance. My parents stood up, their voices filled with fury. “Chloe! Haven’t you embarrassed our family enough? You think you can just call off a wedding like this?” “You’re the one who begged to marry Leo, and now you’re backing out at the last minute! Do you think marriage is a game? Why can’t you be more sensible, like your sister?” “You are getting married today, whether you like it or not!” 2 The wedding had devolved into a farce. Guests whispered among themselves, eagerly awaiting the next chapter of my humiliation. “That Hayes girl is nothing but trouble. First, she shamelessly chases after the Miller heir, and now that she’s got him, she wants to call it off. The whole town is just waiting to see her get thrown out of her own family.” “Her adopted sister is so much better. She’s refined, well-mannered, married some rich kid. She knows her place.” “The Hayes family is so unlucky to have a daughter like that.” The whispers reached my ears, and I realized my reputation in Silver Creek had hit rock bottom. But I used to be the well-bred, respected daughter of the Hayes family. It seemed that ever since Sarah had been adopted, my status had plummeted. My parents’ and Leo’s attitudes toward me had slowly changed. Leo grabbed my hand, ignoring my protests as he addressed the guests. “Chloe is just a little overwhelmed. Please forgive her. She agrees to marry me, and I am willing to take her as my wife.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sarah clench her fists. I took a deep breath and yanked my hand away from Leo. “I said no, and I mean it! I know about you and my sister! The baby in her belly is yours, isn’t it, Leo?” My words exploded like a bomb in the banquet hall. 【Way to go, Mom! Expose those two-faced liars!】 【Your sister has been spreading rumors about you for years! She’s the reason your reputation is in the gutter!】 The little voice in my belly cheered, egging on the chaos. “What are you talking about?!” Sarah clutched her mouth, feigning innocence. “Chloe, I can handle you bullying me in private, but why would you say something so horrible in front of everyone?” “How could you use my baby as an excuse to run away from your own wedding?” Her words seemed to steady Leo. His guilt-ridden expression hardened into one of righteous indignation. “Chloe, that’s enough! Even if you don’t want to get married, you have no right to slander me and your sister!” My parents looked at me with utter disappointment and rage. “Are you out of your mind?! Humiliating your sister and your fiancé in public? Why did we ever have a daughter like you?” “Do you have any idea what a laughingstock you’ve made of us?” The guests were practically howling with laughter. “This is better than a movie! The eldest Hayes daughter, accusing her own fiancé and sister of an affair at her wedding! She really is shameless!” I tore off my veil and threw it to the ground, turning to leave. But several large men blocked the exit. While I was distracted, Leo seized my wrist, intending to drag me through the rest of the ceremony. His voice was a low hiss, his usually gentle face contorted with rage. “Once you’re a Miller, you won’t have the luxury of being so impulsive!” The eyes of the crowd were filled with mockery and amusement. No one cared what I wanted. For the first time, a cold wave of clarity washed over me. I finally understood how dire my situation was. I was nothing but a pawn to my fiancé and my adopted sister. The voice in my belly screamed in panic. 【Once this ceremony is over, your husband is going to find an excuse to lock you in the basement!】 【There are black cars waiting outside! The moment you step out of this hall, they’re going to grab you!】 【Mom, ask my real dad for help! Now!】 Julian Astor? I looked to where he had been sitting, but he was already on his feet, heading for the exit with his assistant. 【Oh no, Dad is leaving to catch his flight! He’s going to find his old flame!】 This might be my last chance. In a moment of desperation, I bit down hard on the fleshy part of Leo’s hand. He cried out in pain and loosened his grip. I spun around and bolted, throwing myself in Julian’s direction. Bodyguards moved to intercept me, but I shoved a table over, sending a tower of wine glasses crashing to the floor. The crowd shrieked as I tore through the chaos, the long train of my dress trailing behind me. I didn’t care. I ran straight for Julian. His assistant was caught off guard. Julian heard the commotion and turned just as I slammed into his chest. “Take me with you,” I begged. “Please!” His face was obscured by the light, but the next thing I knew, I was being shoved to the ground. He brushed off his suit as if I were something filthy, his eyes filled with disgust. “Get lost. Don’t you know I don’t touch women?” 【He’s bluffing! Don’t believe him! He’s just putting on an act now. Once he falls for you, he’ll turn into a clingy little puppy!】 Julian turned to leave again, but I grabbed the hem of his pants, refusing to let go. Footsteps pounded behind me. Leo and his bodyguards caught up, restraining me. My parents looked on in terror at the thunderous expression on Julian’s face. “We are so sorry, Mr. Astor! Our daughter isn’t well. We will come to your home personally to apologize for this offense!” Leo chimed in, his voice groveling. “Mr. Astor, it’s my fault. I should have kept a better eye on her. I’ll make sure she’s properly disciplined. Please, forgive us!” Sarah just stared at Julian with a look of pure adoration, the same look every woman in Silver Creek seemed to have for him. Julian didn’t answer. He just looked down at my hand clutching his pant leg. Sarah followed his gaze, then lifted her stiletto and brought it down hard on the back of my hand. “Chloe, how dare you accost Mr. Astor! Let go!” I cried out in pain. Julian took the opportunity to pull his leg free and strode away without a backward glance. As his figure was about to disappear, I screamed in desperation, “Julian Astor, the baby I’m carrying is yours!” 3 Julian froze. A strange, unnerving silence fell over the room. The guests all turned to stare at me, their expressions shifting from mockery to a kind of pitying disbelief, as if I were a complete lunatic. Sarah, clearly delighted that I was now dragging Julian into this mess, leaned in and whispered, “Trying to climb the social ladder, are we, Chloe? I think you picked the wrong branch.” “Julian Astor is not a man you can just latch onto.” She was right. Everyone knew Julian Astor was a virtual monk, repulsed by contact with women. The string of prayer beads he always carried was proof of his celibacy. The last woman who tried to get close to him with ulterior motives ended up with broken bones and a tombstone for a future. “Is this woman suicidal? I thought she was just trashy, but it turns out she’s insane. No one who crosses Mr. Astor ends up well…” The crowd held its breath, waiting for Julian to explode. As expected, he turned, his lips pressed into a thin, hard line, his face a mask of cold fury. His gaze was like that of an executioner as he stared at me, his fingers working the prayer beads. “My child? Heh. You’ve got some nerve, Ms. Hayes.” “No one in this city has ever been bold enough to show up pregnant and claim the child is mine. I’ve heard about your reputation. Have you really sunk so low as to claim another man as your baby’s father at your own wedding?” The clicking of the beads echoed in the silent hall, a sound that struck fear into everyone’s hearts. It was the sound of Julian’s impending wrath. Leo immediately pushed my head to the floor, forcing me to bow as he pleaded with Julian. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Astor! She’s really not in her right mind! Please, just forgive her this once!” “Apologize to Mr. Astor! Now!” Seeing that Leo didn’t seem to care at all that I had just announced the child wasn’t his, I knew he was well aware of the truth. He just wanted to control me, to have a convenient cover for his affair with Sarah. 【Don’t be scared, Mom! If you can prove the baby is Dad’s, he won’t abandon you!】 【Once you have the Astor family backing you, all these people who bullied you will get what’s coming to them!】 Proof? I let out a bitter laugh. What proof did I have? I didn’t even know the man. My parents rushed forward and slapped me twice, hard. “Apologize to Mr. Astor! Are you trying to get our entire family killed?” my mother shrieked. Julian looked down at me from his lofty height. I was a pathetic mess, like a worm in the dirt. The memory of that passionate night felt like a distant, unreal dream. But then, I remembered something. I looked up at him, my voice surprisingly calm. “Mr. Astor, I saw the rose-colored birthmark.” His expression didn’t change, but his eyes widened in surprise. The birthmark was on his lower abdomen, a very private place. No one who wasn’t intimate with him could possibly know about it. The other guests just looked at each other, confused. But Sarah, ever the opportunist, chimed in. “Chloe, everyone has birthmarks. You can’t use something so trivial as proof of a relationship with Mr. Astor. Countless women have tried similar tricks over the years.” “If you really want to prove the baby is his, why not get a paternity test?” Sarah was smug. She didn’t believe for a second that there was anything between me and Julian. After all, how could a nobody from a minor family like the Hayeses ever get involved with the most powerful man in Silver Creek? Leo had pulled every string he had, spent a fortune, just to get Julian to even show up at the wedding. The crowd immediately agreed. “Yeah, a paternity test! That will shut her up!” “Who does she think she is, trying to claim a connection to Mr. Astor? And at her own wedding! What a shameless tramp!” “She wants to make a scene? Let’s give her a paternity test and expose her for the liar she is! Run her out of town!” Julian’s expression was unreadable, but after a moment, he nodded, giving me a chance. “Fine. A paternity test. At least you’ll know why you’re being destroyed.” 【You’re amazing, Mom! I can’t wait to see Dad eat his words! Hahaha!】 【Don’t worry, I’ll teach you how to handle him. Once he falls in love with you, you’ll have a loyal little puppy on your hands!】 The wedding fiasco quickly became the talk of the town. Julian’s grandfather, the patriarch of the Astor family, heard the news and rushed to the scene. When he saw the private doctor drawing my blood, a look of pure joy spread across his face. “This is wonderful! I might get to hold my grandchild before I die.” Julian sneered. “Let’s hope she’s still in one piece when the results come back and expose her.” I closed my eyes, letting them draw my blood. My parents stood by, trembling with fear, terrified I would bring ruin upon the family. Leo’s face was a thundercloud. His fiancée was getting a paternity test for another man’s child at their own wedding. Even if that other man was Julian Astor, it was the ultimate humiliation. 【Good thing Mom didn’t marry this Miller guy. He was planning how to torture you after the wedding!】 【Oww, needles hurt! But I’ll endure it for Mommy’s happiness!】 I was bruised and battered, and the blood draw left me weak and dizzy. I leaned on the little voice’s encouragement as I waited for the results. The guests stared at me with hungry, predatory eyes, all of them eagerly anticipating my downfall. No one believed that the celibate Julian Astor could have a child. I was starting to realize that if the baby wasn’t his, my life was over. Finally, there were hurried footsteps outside. Julian’s assistant rushed in, clutching a report, and whispered something in Julian’s ear. Julian’s cold, indifferent expression was replaced by one of utter shock. His grandfather, growing impatient, tapped his cane on the floor. “Stop whispering! Is it my great-grandchild or not? Just say it!” Sarah giggled, covering her mouth. “Is there even a question? Of course it’s not a Astor. It’s all just my sister’s lies…” The assistant wiped the sweat from his brow and announced, “The probability of paternity between Ms. Hayes’ child and Mr. Astor is 99.99%!”

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“You owe the family $85,000.” Mom dropped an Excel spreadsheet into the family group chat. The header read: Family Financial Accountability Ledger. Underneath were three damning rows: Sister (Danielle): Balance +28,000; Brother(Kyle):Balance +5,000; Me (Cassandra): Debt -$85,000. The group chat immediately blew up. “Time to pay up, Cassie.” My sister, Danielle, sent a smirking emoji. “Mom kept perfect track of everything,” Kyle chimed in. I stared at the number, a hollow laugh bubbling up. Eighty-five thousand dollars. Had she ever bothered to track how much I’d sent home since I graduated high school? 1. I handed my phone to my husband, Jack. “Take a look.” He took it, his expression changing slowly, turning from curious to cold. “What in God’s name is this?” “My mother’s ledger,” I said, taking a slow drink of water. “She says I owe the family eighty-five thousand dollars.” “Eighty-five thousand?” His voice rose an octave. “Based on what?” I tapped the spreadsheet and zoomed in. The itemized list was stark: [CASSIE RHODES: COST OF UPBRINGING] – Tuition (K-College): $11,000 – Living Expenses (18 years): $28,000 – Clothes, Shoes, Allowance: $7,000 – College Dorm/Fees: $2,000 – Wedding Subsidy: $1,500 – Other Expenses: $13,500 – Subtotal: $60,000 – Interest (5% annual rate, 18 years): $25,000 – TOTALDUE $85,000. Jack’s eyes were glued to the last line: “Interest? She charged you interest?” “That’s right,” I nodded. “Mom says if she’d invested that money instead of raising me, she’d have earned that much. Since I ‘consumed’ the capital, I have to cover the lost earnings.” “And Dani? Your sister?” I scrolled to my sister’s column. [DANIELLE RHODES: COST OF UPBRINGING] – Tuition: $10,000 – Living Expenses: $24,000 – Clothes/Shoes: $9,000 – Other: $6,000 – Subtotal: $49,000 – Wedding Gift to Parents: $18,000 – Regular Gifts/Support: $59,000 – Balance: $28,000. Jack was speechless. I scrolled down to my brother’s section. [KYLE RHODES: COST OF UPBRINGING] Tuition: $14,000 Living Expenses: $34,000 Other: $20,000 Subtotal: $68,000 Wedding Gift to Parents: $22,000 Regular Gifts/Support: $51,000 Balance: $5,000. “Wait a minute,” Jack frowned. “Kyle’s wedding. Didn’t your parents give him a sixty-thousand-dollar down payment for their house? Why isn’t that listed?” “It’s not.” “And Dani’s wedding? Didn’t your mom hand her a thirty-thousand-dollar check?” “Not listed either.” “And yours?” I gave a short, bitter laugh. “My wedding. Mom gave me a check for fifteen hundred dollars. The ledger lists it as ‘Wedding Subsidy -$1,500’.” Jack’s jaw tightened. “How can she do this? She gives Dani thirty thousand and Kyle sixty thousand, but your gift is a negative number?” “Because that fifteen hundred came out of the money I’d previously given her.” “What does that even mean?” “The first year I worked, I sent her five hundred a month. Six thousand dollars. Mom said the fifteen hundred she gave me for the wedding was deducted from that six thousand.” “What about the rest you sent?” “She said that was a ‘gift to show respect and love’—it doesn’t count as paying off the debt.” Jack slammed the phone onto the coffee table. “This is insane!” I remained silent. The group chat was still buzzing. Danielle: “@CassandraRhodes See? Mom is meticulous.” Kyle: “You’re the one who’s in the red, sis.” Mom (Sharon): “Cassie, raising you wasn’t easy. You’re established now. It’s time to settle up.” I stared at the messages, not replying to a single one. “What are you going to do?” Jack asked me. I opened my photo gallery and pulled up a screenshot. It was a record of my bank transfers to Mom over the years. – 2018: $1,200 – 2019: $3,000 – 2020: $4,500 – 2021: $4,000 – 2022: $6,500 – 2023: $5,500 – 2024: $9,500 Plus a few independent transfers: – Dad’s hospital bill: $3,500 – Kyle’s wedding gift: $2,500 – Dani’s baby shower gift: $1,000 – Holiday cash/gifts: roughly $700 a year. “How much is that in total?” Jack asked. “I calculated it,” I said. “Excluding the tiny things, it’s forty-one thousand dollars.” “And how much of that is on her ledger?” “Zero.” I saved the transfer records as a separate file. “She says my money was for ‘filial piety,’ not debt repayment. The money she spent on me is hers to reclaim. The money I sent her is also hers to keep.” Jack’s hands were shaking. “What’s the plan, Cass?” I watched the family chat. Another message popped up. Danielle: “@CassandraRhodes You’re not trying to stiff her, are you?” I slowly typed a line. “Dani, Mom gave you a $30,000 wedding gift. Why isn’t that on the ledger?” Send. Silence in the chat for ten seconds. Then Mom spoke: “That was a gift for your sister’s marriage. It’s separate from the ledger.” I typed another line. “And the $60,000 down payment for Kyle’s house? Why is that missing?” Silence for five seconds. Kyle jumped in: “That’s Mom and Dad’s personal money. It’s none of your business!” I smiled. “Perfect.” I set the phone down and looked at Jack. “She wants to keep score? We’ll keep score.” Jack nodded. “What do you need me to do?” “Help me dig up the records from our wedding. What they gave, what they took.” He immediately went to the file cabinet. I reopened my phone and started systematically taking screenshots of every single transfer record. I was ready to see exactly how this score would be settled. 2. It was nine PM when I finished compiling everything. Jack sat beside me, his face drawn and pale with anger. “You know what the worst part is?” he said. “What?” “The year we got married.” I knew exactly what he meant. When we got married, my parents asked for a $18,000 wedding cash gift from Jack’s family—a major ask for them, but they scraped it together. On the wedding day, Mom took the $18,000. “This money is yours,” she’d said. “But I’ll hold onto it for you. You can have it when you need it.” I thought, okay, I’ll trust her. The next year, Kyle needed a down payment for his condo. Mom called me. “Cassie, your $18,000. Your brother needs to borrow it.” “Mom, that’s my wedding money…” “Borrow! It’s a loan! He’s getting a house, it’s a big deal! Why are you so selfish?” I transferred the money. Kyle bought the condo, got married, and never mentioned repaying it. I brought it up once. Mom snapped, “Your brother just got married. He has no money to repay you! Besides, you’re married now. Are you really going to argue with your own brother over a loan?” I never asked again. Jack shuffled through the old receipts and documents, his voice thick with emotion. “Your wedding. What did your family contribute?” “You know the answer.” “I want to hear it again.” I sighed. “On the wedding day, Mom gave me that fifteen hundred dollar check. My ‘trousseau subsidy’.” “And that was it?” “That was it.” “What about the linens? The furniture? The appliances?” “We bought it all ourselves.” “And Dani’s wedding?” I pulled up an old photo on my phone. It was a picture my mom had posted on social media during Dani’s wedding. In the photo, Dani stood beaming amongst stacks of coordinated designer luggage, a complete furniture set, and a shiny new car parked outside. The caption: “Our oldest daughter is married! Sending her off with dignity!” I counted the items in my head. The ten-piece luggage set. The new appliance package. The $25,000 sedan. And the $30,000 check Mom gave her publicly. Jack stared at the picture, speechless. “You know how I felt?” I gave a wry smile. “Mom didn’t post my wedding photos.” “Why not?” “She said Dani’s was in the hometown, so all the relatives were there, and she needed the prestige. Mine was in the city, with a small group. She said, ‘No one you know will even see it.’” Jack put the phone face down on the table. “Your mother…” He swallowed, unable to find a word strong enough. I patted his hand. “It’s fine.” “How is it fine?” His voice trembled. “She gave Dani $30,000, Kyle $60,000, and gave you $1,500 after taking $18,000. And now she’s billing you $85,000?” I didn’t answer. My phone vibrated. A private message from Dani. “Cass, what you said in the group chat was out of line.” I opened the message. “How was it out of line?” “Mom and Dad’s gifts to me and Kyle—that’s their business. You can’t compare yourself to us.” “What can I compare myself to?” “Just admit you owe them! $85,000 isn’t the end of the world. You can pay it back slowly. A few grand a year, and you’ll be done in a decade.” “I owe them?” “How much did they spend on your education? On your living expenses? Do you have no conscience?” I smiled at the screen. “Dani, let me ask you. Did you pay back your education costs?” “I did! I send Mom and Dad money every year since I got married.” “Your payments are listed as ‘Balance.’ Mine are ‘Filial Piety.’ Why does my money not count as debt repayment?” Dani didn’t reply. I continued typing: “And the $30,000 Mom gave you? Why isn’t that deducted from your costs?” “That was a wedding gift! Every daughter deserves one!” “Did I get one?” Dani fell silent again. “Did I, Dani?” I sent the question again. “How much did Mom give me?” A minute later, Dani replied: “Your situation was different.” “How was it different?” “You were always the difficult one. You didn’t know how to talk to Mom and Dad, and you were never the favorite. You had a huge fight with Mom before your wedding. Of course, she didn’t want to give you a big send-off.” I stared at the words, my hands shaking slightly. “So, I was the black sheep, so I got no wedding gift. But I was the black sheep, and I still owe $85,000?” “That’s two different things!” “Dani, what exactly is ‘two different things’? Giving is one thing, and taking is another?” Dani stopped responding. Jack had read the conversation over my shoulder. “What does she mean, you were ‘the difficult one’?” I put the phone down. “Mom always told me that. Said I was quiet, didn’t read the room, wasn’t charming. Dani was great at flattery. Kyle was the boy. And I…” “You what?” “I was ‘like a guest in the house.’” I flashed back to childhood. Dani’s birthday got a catered party and a cake. Kyle’s birthday got Mom’s famous home-cooked feast. My birthday? Mom usually said, “Just share a cake with Dani this year. Save money.” Dani wore new dresses. I wore Dani’s hand-me-downs. Kyle got new brand-name sneakers. I wore whatever was cheapest. I once asked Mom why. She said, “Dani is pretty and needs to look good. Kyle is a boy. You? You can just wear anything. You don’t care anyway.” But I did care. I just couldn’t say it. If I did, Mom would say, “Look at you, always making a scene. Your sister and brother never complain about things like this. Why are you always so dramatic?” So, I stopped talking. Slowly, I became the “difficult one.” Slowly, I incurred an $85,000 debt. Jack took my hand. “Why didn’t you ever tell me this?” “Tell you what?” I smiled faintly. “That my mother played favorites? That I grew up feeling unloved? You’d just think I was complaining.” “I wouldn’t.” “But Mom would. She always told me other children had it so much worse, and I was spoiled and ungrateful for even mentioning it.” Jack was silent for a long time. “So, what happens now?” I looked at my phone screen. The family group chat was alive again. Mom: “Cassie, what are you doing? We’re family. Why are you bringing up gifts?” Danielle: “Exactly. The debt is separate from the gifts.” Kyle: “She’s just looking for an excuse not to pay, Mom.” I took a deep breath. “Jack, turn on the laptop.” “What are you going to do?” “They want to keep score,” I said. “Then let’s settle the score once and for all.”

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I went to pick up my wedding dress, only to find the new nurse, Daphne, trying one on too. The man kneeling on one knee to help her put on her shoes was Nathan, my boyfriend of seven years. He stood up and turned around. Our eyes met. There wasn’t a trace of panic on his face. Instead, Daphne smiled and asked me, “Dr. Hart, would you like to be my bridesmaid?” I shook my head. “Can’t. I’m in mourning.” “My fiancé just died. He’s not even cold yet.” 1 I pushed open the door and immediately saw Daphne, beaming with joy, wearing a puffy wedding gown. Her hand rested on the shoulder of the man kneeling before her, watching him carefully help her with her shoes. Even from the back, I recognized him. Nathan. My boyfriend of seven years. He was wearing the pink checkered shirt I had taken out of the closet and handed to him this morning. A few hours ago, I asked him if he had time. He hastily kissed my cheek, his tone full of apology. “Harper, can we do it another day? An emergency surgery got added to my schedule.” As a fellow doctor, I understood the demands of the job. I didn’t say anything, just urged him to get to the hospital. Now I see. The “emergency surgery” added to his schedule was Daphne, with her dimpled smile. She obviously saw me. Her lips curled up, her expression full of triumph. No one at the hospital knew about my relationship with Nathan. About two weeks ago, Daphne accidentally saw a photo in my gallery. During a break, she came over to chat. “I was wondering what kind of man could match Dr. Hart. No wonder.” She added, “If any man treated me half as well as Dr. Chen treats you, I’d die of happiness.” I changed the subject casually, but suspicion grew in my heart. I didn’t understand where she got the idea that he treated me well. A couple of days later, a joke from a nurse in our department made me realize something. “The new girl, Daphne, calls everyone ‘bro,’ but she only calls Nathan ‘Nathan.’ One word difference, think about it.” I blame myself for not looking into it sooner, leading to today’s awkward situation. “All done, let me see.” Nathan clapped his hands, stood up, and turned sideways. Our eyes met. He froze for a second, his thin lips pressing into a tight line. His expression remained calm, as if he had expected this day would come eventually. Daphne glanced at him, her smile unwavering, and reached out to link her arm with his. “What a coincidence, Dr. Hart.” Coincidence? I remembered she had asked me not long ago when I planned to get married. She even recommended this bridal shop. Because I saw the ring box in Nathan’s coat pocket, I secretly ordered a wedding dress, thinking I’d surprise him and tell him I was ready too. It turned out the person he wanted to marry wasn’t me. 2 My heart felt like it was being pierced by thousands of needles. I dug my nails into my palm to stop myself from crying on the spot. Daphne suddenly smiled and asked, “Dr. Hart, would you like to be my bridesmaid?” Before she finished, Nathan looked at me too, frowning slightly. Before I could speak, he said quietly, “Dr. Hart is so busy, where would she find the time? Stop teasing.” Hearing the hint of complaint in his tone, my heart spasmed again. From med school to residency, over seven years, we both became busier and busier. Dates for normal couples were always replaced by surgeries and emergencies. Six months ago, I got promoted. Nathan seemed to hold a grudge, working even harder than before, writing papers and performing high-difficulty surgeries without missing a beat. In med school, we were top competitors. I knew he hated losing. Last time his parents called to urge us to get married, he said he was too busy to get away. So when I saw the ring box in his jacket, I thought he was secretly planning something and felt touched for a long time. I ordered the dress myself, planning to surprise him on our seventh anniversary. Seeing I hadn’t spoken for a long time, Daphne asked again, “Dr. Hart?” I glanced at her. “Dr. Hart, we have a deal, okay? You be my bridesmaid, maybe some of my luck will rub off on you.” I shook my head. “Can’t. I’m in mourning.” Nathan smirked slightly, looking at me. He knew my parents were alive and well. I sneered. “My fiancé just died. He’s not even cold yet.” Nathan’s face darkened, his lips pressed tight. The shop assistant, who was happily carrying my wedding dress out, heard this and froze in her tracks, dumbfounded. 3 This might be the biggest crisis she had encountered in her career. The assistant looked at me hesitantly. “Would you like to try it on?” I shook my head. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Nathan staring at the tulle peeking out of the bag. I remembered the year we graduated from med school. He pointed at a wedding dress in a window and asked me when I would marry him. “Tomorrow?” I teased him with a smile. The light in his eyes instantly shone like stars in a dark night, then quickly dimmed. “Harper, I don’t want you to suffer. I want to give you everything others have.” His parents both got cancer one after another. Treatment costs had left his family deep in debt. The burden on his shoulders was heavy. That wasn’t a suitable time to discuss marriage. Later, we interviewed at the hospital together. The Chief of Surgery asked him casually, “Young man, do you have a girlfriend?” He answered quickly, “No, I’m still single.” Standing next to him, I froze on the spot. But he explained later. “Dr. Zhao intends to cultivate new doctors. I just didn’t want him to worry that dating would distract me from work.” Although I felt uncomfortable, I didn’t say much more. He had his considerations and worries. I wanted to try to understand. Not going public at the beginning might have had a reason, but later it seemed unnecessary to go public. Every time I brought it up, he would smile and kiss my forehead. “Just send them invitations when we get married.” “If we go public now, a bunch of people will ask questions.” He was afraid of trouble, so I comforted myself that he just didn’t want people to pay too much attention to his private life. In the past, he helped me blow-dry my hair, ate fast food with me, and would always tell me when we parted ways at the intersection. “Wait a bit longer, I’m going to marry you soon.” Since he suddenly took back the salary card he let me keep over half a month ago, he hadn’t said it again. Now I know why he said he had a big matter to deal with. A big life event indeed. My fiancé was going to marry someone else, and I wasn’t even deemed necessary to be informed. 3 I carried the wedding dress out. When I reached the intersection, I looked back. Nathan didn’t chase after me. Our chat history stopped many days ago. I asked him what time he would be back, and he replied with two words: [Busy.] Clicking into his profile, his feed was just a line. I didn’t know when he blocked me. I called to cancel the restaurant reservation, threw the wedding dress in the car, and rushed back to work. The department director was a bit surprised to see me. “You stayed up for several nights to apply for a day off, and you’re back after half a day?” Perhaps seeing my face looked bad, he asked if something happened. Explaining a secret relationship and being cheated on was too troublesome, so I just said I didn’t sleep well. He excitedly pulled me aside. “Then let’s gossip.” The more you don’t want to hear a name, the more it comes up. The director whispered mysteriously, “Nathan hooked up with a little nurse from their department. People caught them several times, staying in the office for half a day. The nurse came out adjusting her clothes. Bold.” He looked me up and down, looking disappointed. “I was thinking of setting you two up before. Classmates and colleagues, knowing each other well. Nathan is confused.” I couldn’t smile. “Not really suitable, right?” The director added that Daphne said she wanted to marry a doctor as soon as she joined the hospital. Someone in the hospital even made a list to see which unlucky guy would be conquered. “You know how hard it is to get into our hospital, right? She got in right after graduation. Heard she has a good dad.” This reminded me of the nurses in the department mocking her every time she was mentioned. “Never heard of her working a night shift. Having a shareholder for a backer is incomparable.” I guess Nathan heard these words too. When I got home after work, all his things in the room were gone. A key was left on the table, with a note pressed under it. The handwriting that copied notes for me and wrote love letters to me was still neat. [Deep affection cannot defeat time. Consider it my debt to you.] Seven years of time, summarized in one stroke. I casually tapped redial on a string of missed calls. It connected quickly. “The exchange study you mentioned last time, I want to go.” The voice on the other end said okay repeatedly. I didn’t say anything else and hung up directly. I think Nathan’s recent active performance and urgency to marry Daphne were mostly for this matter. A few months ago, there were rumors that the hospital would cooperate with a high-end overseas research institute and send one person for exchange study. Returning meant doubling one’s value, not to mention the vacant Deputy Director position was reserved for this person. Looking down at Daphne’s official announcement on her feed, I felt much better. [Just right, describing today.] The picture showed two tightly clasped hands. I recognized the one with distinct knuckles. 4 A few days later, I saw wedding candy bags right after surgery. Daphne seemed to have been waiting for me for a long time, greeting me excitedly with a smug smile. “Dr. Hart, I’m personally delivering wedding candy to you. Will you do me the honor?” I changed out of my white coat and glanced at her. “There’s no one else here, what are you pretending for? Are we close?” Her smile froze on her face, and her eyes turned cold. “The one not loved is the extra one. Dr. Hart, I pity you. He never admitted your relationship, but he announced it immediately with me. Can’t you see the difference between loving and not loving?” I pulled out a chair and sat down, laughing. “Something so easily pried away, what’s there to pity? As for loving or not, you know best. I wish you two locked together for life.” Her face paled. “Before marriage, he can choose someone more suitable. If you were abandoned, think about where you fell short.” My smile deepened unconsciously. “Thanks for the advice. I won’t go to the wedding. We have no friendship, so I’ll save the gift money.” I raised my hand to signal her to leave instead of slapping her. I think I have good self-control. I guess they were eager to announce this relationship. Everyone in the hospital received invitations and candy. Otherwise, my phone wouldn’t stop ringing. Some people were angry on my behalf, so in the afternoon, another notice appeared on the hospital bulletin board. The candidate selected for overseas exchange study has been confirmed. My photo was prominently displayed. It was taken by Nathan in the past.

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The company gala was in full swing when I threw up on the most important guest in the room. Colleagues scattered like roaches when the lights turn on, leaving my boss, Adrian, to step in and apologize for me. But the VIP didn’t get angry. Instead, he calmly dusted off his lapel and looked at Adrian. “She has zero tolerance for alcohol. Keep an eye on her.” Adrian’s jaw practically hit the floor. When the banquet finally ended, my coworkers swarmed me, buzzing with gossip. “That was Carter Sterling! How on earth do you know him?” Carter paused near the exit, turning to look at me. I averted my gaze and let out a dry, hollow laugh. “I don’t. We aren’t close.” After all, when we broke up three years ago, Carter Sterling had only one request: Never tell a soul we were ever together. 1 The noisy room went dead silent. A few seconds later, someone scoffed. “Yeah, right.” “Carter’s suit is worth six figures. If he wasn’t close to you, would he let that slide? And giving the boss instructions on how to handle you?” What instructions? I really had drunk too much. I hadn’t heard a word Carter said. I shook my head, repeating the line like a mantra. “We really aren’t close.” “He probably just let it go out of respect for our boss,” someone reasoned. Everyone knew Adrian Hale had connections everywhere. He ran in the same circles as Carter. “Really?” I met my colleague’s skeptical gaze with a blank stare. After a long staredown, she convinced herself. “Yeah, that makes sense.” “It has to be Adrian. Why would someone like Carter know a corporate drone like you?” “Besides, I heard Carter is getting engaged at the end of the month. Maybe he’s just in a good mood.” Hearing that, the crowd bought it. The only person who didn’t look convinced was Adrian. He leaned against the wall, swirling a glass of scotch, one eyebrow raised. His expression said: I’m just going to watch you lie through your teeth. 2 I calmly looked away. Technically, I wasn’t lying. We broke up three years ago. We were strangers now. Especially considering the brutal words he left me with. He forbade me from even speaking his name. The gala wound down. Carter walked out with Adrian. As they passed me, Carter turned his head, his dark eyes boring into mine. I kept my expression frozen. I didn’t even blink. Only when they disappeared out the door did the tension in the room lift. The gossip immediately shifted to Carter. Mentioning his fiancée, someone sighed enviously. “Vanessa Vanderbilt. A real heiress. The hardest thing that girl has ever had to do is choose a latte flavor.” “Born with a silver spoon, childhood sweethearts with Carter… that diamond on her finger costs more than my life insurance. And did you hear about the car he bought her?” “I heard a rumor,” someone whispered, lowering their voice. “Carter dated some poor girl about three years ago. Two years together. But she made Vanessa cry once, and he dumped her the next day.” “Two years down the drain just like that? That’s cold.” “It gets worse. To vent his anger for Vanessa, he basically ran the girl out of the city. But apparently, she was from a trashy family with a bad reputation. Probably just a gold digger.” The room filled with judgmental sighs. I lowered my eyes, catching bits and pieces of the conversation. It was half true, half false. It was true that Carter dumped me because of Vanessa. But he didn’t run me out of town. He just thought I was too shameful to be seen with. He flew out of the country the day we broke up without even saying goodbye. Two years of love, ending in humiliation. I didn’t want to hear anymore. I grabbed my bag to leave, but someone asked: “Two years? And he didn’t feel bad at all?” 3 No. Carter was ruthless. He was so cruel that for a long time after, I questioned if the gentle, polite man I first met was even the same person. I realized later, he started changing the moment Vanessa came back from Europe. He took me to meet his inner circle. The private lounge was filled with people he’d known since kindergarten. Old money. They greeted me politely enough. Except for Vanessa. She scanned me from head to toe like I was a bad investment. That was the first time I met her. Beautiful, but icy. We didn’t speak the entire night. Until the end, when she finally acknowledged my existence. “What a coincidence.” “I heard you and Carter haven’t been dating long, but your mother suddenly got sick, and you needed money urgently?” I froze. Carter had helped me with medical bills. But I had already paid him back. The night I accepted Carter’s confession, I had actually regretted it. Carter Sterling, the heir to the Sterling empire, and “poverty” didn’t belong in the same sentence. But he had buried his face in my neck, his voice thick with emotion, asking, “Are you sure? Do you really want to leave me?” The speech I prepared died in my throat. My heart hammered against my ribs. I was powerless against the chemistry. Later, I refused his expensive gifts. I couldn’t afford to owe him anything else. But how did Vanessa know about the medical bills? Before I could speak, Vanessa laughed lightly. “It doesn’t matter. It’s pocket change to us.” “I’m just making conversation. Don’t take it to heart.” I stood there, stunned. Carter glanced at her, his expression unreadable. Vanessa looked up at him, smiling with her eyes. They didn’t speak, but a silent communication passed between them. That was the first time I felt it. The wall. Later, while shopping, I stared at a pair of earrings. They would have looked perfect on my mom. “They’re beautiful,” Vanessa said, appearing beside me. “You like them?” “Carter should just buy them for you.” The group of friends chuckled. They stood in the light. I stood in their shadow. I looked at Carter. I couldn’t articulate the humiliation I felt, but I desperately hoped he would stand up for me. Just one word. Say, Elena never asked me for anything. Say, Elena isn’t who you think she is. I watched him. Vanessa watched him. It felt like a century passed. Finally, Carter spoke. He glanced indifferently at the earrings. “If you want something, just ask next time.” “Pick whatever else you like.” The world spun. I gripped the counter, trying to see the real man behind that mask of indifference. But all I saw in those beautiful eyes was the same look Vanessa had. Arrogance. They were exactly the same. 4 After that day, we entered a cold war. I didn’t contact Carter. But Vanessa came to find me. “You forgot the earrings you were staring at. Carter told me to bring them to you.” She looked at my mother and laughed. “This is your mom?” “You used her illness as an excuse to borrow money from Carter, didn’t you?” “What’s the excuse next time?” “Sickness gets old. Maybe you two should brainstorm a new scam. Your mother looks like she has more experience…” Every word was a dagger into my mother’s heart. Her face went pale. I didn’t let her finish. I shoved Vanessa hard. “Shut your mouth!” Vanessa fell. Her wrist scraped the floor, and she teared up instantly. Her friends arrived that night. They blocked my doorway, demanding an apology. “Vanessa was the one insulting us! Why should I apologize?” “Fine. Don’t apologize. Pay up.” A man leaned against the wall, laughing. “Though I doubt you can afford the medical bill for her wrist.” They were merciless. “Face it. You’re just in it for Carter’s money. Was Vanessa wrong?” “Stop pretending.” “Name your price. We’ll pay you to leave Carter alone.” I was shaking with rage. Just as I was about to scream, Carter arrived. The crowd dispersed immediately. When the footsteps faded, the hallway was quiet. Vanessa must have cried to him already. I assumed he was here to make me apologize too. Or mock me. I clenched my fists, staring at him. But Carter didn’t mention Vanessa. He spoke calmly. “I heard your mother isn’t feeling well?” “Do you need money?” His tone was gentle, but the implication was cruel. He believed them. I realized then: either I never knew Carter, or he had changed completely. When I didn’t answer, he shoved something into my hand. A black card. Cold against my skin. “If you need anything else, just ask.” My mother was sitting on the sofa, listening. Her fingers dug deep into the cushions. I couldn’t look at her. “Get out,” I choked out. I threw the card and the man out the door. We broke up. Carter didn’t give me the card again. Instead, he kept sending gifts. One evening, I came home to find my door open. A neighbor was walking out. “Your daughter is something else. She’s got the looks to make it pay, huh? Those things look expensive.” “Finally letting you live the good life.” I froze. The living room table was piled high with luxury bags and jewelry. The silence was deafening. My mother sat on the sofa, staring at the pile. She didn’t ask. She didn’t speak. After a long time, she closed her eyes. “Elena… sometimes I wish I hadn’t survived that accident.” My eyes turned red instantly.

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I was scrolling through a forum while waiting for my test results at the hospital when a question caught my eye: “What’s the most thrilling thing you’ve ever done?” An anonymous user commented: “Going through a divorce, sleeping with my lawyer’s husband, and now I’m pregnant with his child.” “She’s so buried in legal statutes, she has no idea I’m the one that got away, his first love.” “Even better? I control his finances now, and she’s completely in the dark.” “Oh, and that woman is pregnant, too. I told him I couldn’t stand the thought of her child being born. He promised he’d convince her to get rid of it, citing developmental issues.” “He’s mine. So is his money.” At the edge of the accompanying photo, a watch was faintly visible. My blood ran cold. That watch… it was identical to the one on my husband’s wrist. Just then, the door to my room swung open. My husband walked in, his voice as gentle as ever. “Honey, the doctor said… the baby isn’t developing well. For your own health, maybe we shouldn’t keep this one.” 01 The corner of the report was crumpled in his tight grip. I unfolded it, my eyes locking on the words “Suggested Termination.” My throat tightened. “Is that… really what the doctor said?” His gaze darted around the room, never once meeting mine. He just murmured, “You weren’t careful, you took that medication.” “Just to be safe, it’s for the best.” A sharp pain bloomed in my chest, shattering the last shred of hope I was clinging to. But before the wave of emotion could drown my reason, professional instinct took over. I forced myself to detach. I did a quick mental calculation. My physical condition and the medication I’d recently taken meant keeping the baby was a risk. I had to protect myself first. Finally, I nodded. Seeing my crestfallen expression, he moved closer, taking my hand. He soothed me with a warm voice, “Honey, we can always have another baby. Your health is what’s most important.” What a hypocrite. I pulled my arm away and turned my back to him. “I’m tired. I need to rest.” And just like that, with a few careless words, he had discarded the child we had longed for. In ten years of marriage, he had always been the perfect husband. But I had just learned that he was playing the same devoted role for another woman. The anonymous comment had already exploded into a full-blown flame war. The replies were split into three camps: those who called her a homewrecking monster, those who romanticized their “fated love,” and those who speculated that I must have stolen him away first, claiming they couldn’t judge without knowing the whole story. The first thing I did after being discharged was pull up that post and read every single word. Four months ago, Isabelle Croft was fighting for a divorce. I was her lawyer. And through her, I was reunited with Marcus. [My lawyer didn’t just win my case; she brought my first love back to me. What a godsend.] [The day of the hearing, her husband dropped her off. I knew it was him the second I saw him. My first love. And from the way he looked at me, I knew he’d never forgotten.] [After we won, I went to their house to thank her. I cornered him in the kitchen and kissed him against the counter.] [As I was leaving, he made up an excuse to get my number.] [He started finding reasons to see me, saying he wanted to celebrate me finally getting away from my scumbag ex.] [We talked so much about the past, about why we broke up. He cried.] [Seeing his eyes glistening with tears, I leaned in and kissed him, and then… we just did it.] [Later, he saw me arguing with my ex about the settlement money and got angry. He said if I needed money, I should have just asked him, that I didn’t need to degrade myself.] [I never wanted to destroy his family. His wife helped me, and I’ll always be grateful for that…] [But he told me he never really got over me. He said he only agreed to the blind date with her back then because she looked a little like me.] [Before I could even figure out what to do, I found out I was pregnant. I guess it was fate.] I stared at the screen, my nails digging so deep into my palms they nearly drew blood. Twenty-two and thirty-two. A decade lies between those years. From cramming for the bar exam side-by-side to propping each other up as we started our careers; from sharing a single bowl of instant noodles in a cramped apartment to owning a home of our own. Everyone called us the picture-perfect couple, a match made in heaven. I never once doubted that we were each other’s one and only. But it turned out our decade of love was nothing but a mirage. I remembered four months ago, when a distraught Isabelle was about to jump off the West End Bridge, and I was the one who talked her down. Later, I took her case and fought to get her the best possible settlement. I also remembered the strange way Marcus froze the first time he saw her. I’d even joked about it. “What are you staring at? You smitten or something?” He was quiet for a long moment before murmuring, “She… reminds me of a friend who’s no longer with us.” I didn’t suspect a thing. I even comforted him. “Life is unpredictable. You never know when you’ll see someone for the last time.” He hummed in agreement, pulling me into a hug, his arms wrapped tightly around me. That night, he had whispered in my ear, “You have to promise you’ll always stay safe, right by my side.” At the time, I thought he was just being sentimental, leaning on me for comfort. Looking back, it was probably the thrill of touching a ghost from his past. Or maybe, it was the unease of a guilty conscience. A new comment appeared at the bottom of the thread. [His wife’s procedure went smoothly. Next up, dividing the assets.] [He said he has plenty of ways to make sure she leaves with nothing. After all, he knows exactly how to handle her.] […I really am sorry, but I can’t help it.] I read that last line and a bitter laugh escaped my lips. Isabelle, have you forgotten how we met? I’ve handled countless divorce cases. And I have never, ever lost. 02 As a lawyer with over a decade of experience, digging up information was second nature to me. It didn’t take long to piece together the whole ugly picture from the digital breadcrumbs they’d left behind. In just four short months, Marcus had poured all his energy into Isabelle. All that was left for me were lies and manipulation. Four months ago, shortly after filing Isabelle’s case, I’d pulled several all-nighters gathering evidence and ended up with acute gastritis. Marcus said he was on his way. I waited for four hours. The IV drip finished, and he never showed. Now I know why. He was so worried something would happen to Isabelle that he stayed by her side all night. Then there was the high-profile case I took on, the one that made the news. I was targeted by the defendant’s family. I was attacked and hospitalized, frantically calling his phone, but he never picked up. Because he was with Isabelle, taking a trip down memory lane at their old university, reliving their teenage romance. After the attack, I was left with severe anxiety and trauma, walking around in a constant daze. He canceled all his work to be with me during that time. He put me first in everything, planned little surprises, and surrounded me with a sense of security. My favorite gift was a custom necklace. He said it had a GPS tracker so he could always find me. Turns out, it was just a mass-produced freebie from a brand event he and Isabelle had attended together. The treasure I cherished was just a cheap party favor from one of their dates. It was all a calculated act to monitor me, a way to prevent his secret from ever coming out. I watched a video of them, surrounded by people, laughing together. My fingers slowly curled into a fist. The worst part? Our mutual friends, every single one of them, knew. No one warned me. No one said a word. The dinner parties continued, the likes on social media kept coming. They all tacitly agreed to ignore my existence. But it was what I found next that sent a true chill down my spine, plunging me into an icy abyss. It was a neatly organized document titled: Evidence Chain Regarding Attorney Audrey Lane’s Improper Use of the ‘XX Case’ for Self-Promotion. It contained my home address, social security number, place of employment, and dozens of clear photos of me. The document was created a month before I was attacked. And I found it on Marcus’s computer. A note inside read: This person is a glory-hound, using a major news story to build her own brand and manipulate public sympathy. Below that was a screenshot of Isabelle’s social media. She had reposted the message that leaked my private information. The image attached was a scan of my ID. Her caption read: [I can’t believe the lawyer I respected so much is this kind of person. I really hope someone teaches her a lesson.] Someone replied below: “You sure it’s her?” Her response was a single word: “Yes.” A roar filled my ears. The attack I’d suffered wasn’t random at all. They had worked together, leaking my personal information, deliberately putting me in harm’s way. The storm of online harassment and public condemnation that followed wasn’t a coincidence either. It was them, meticulously, step by step, pushing me to the edge. How is that any different from murder? I laughed until my eyes burned with tears. All the little pieces I had dismissed came rushing back, sharp and jagged: The faint scent of an unfamiliar perfume on his clothes. The hushed phone calls on the balcony late at night. His overly attentive behavior after I was attacked… What I had believed to be love. It was just a carefully measured dose of poison. I wiped my eyes fiercely. Fine. If he wanted to play this elaborate, cruel game, then I would be more than happy to play along. As a lawyer, I knew exactly what it took to utterly destroy someone. I opened my laptop and began compiling the evidence I had gathered. Marcus’s asset transfer records, proof of his affair with Isabelle, the email logs tracing the leak of my personal information… It was more than enough to build a complete evidence chain for a criminal complaint. Just as my thoughts were racing, my phone rang. It was Isabelle. I took a deep breath and answered. Her voice, light and smiling, came through the phone. “Audrey, it’s me. I’m having a little party this weekend to celebrate my… well, my new beginning. I especially want to thank you for everything you did for my case. You absolutely have to come.” Her tone was sincere, but then she added, almost as an afterthought, “Oh, by the way, Marcus promised he’d be there too. You’ll grace us with your presence, won’t you, Audrey?” She slowly recited an address. It was only twenty minutes from my law firm. I listened to the flawless blend of intimacy and calculation in her voice and smiled without a sound. Thank me? The audacity was staggering. “Of course,” I said, my voice perfectly steady. “I’ll be there.” They were so eager to put on a show, right under my nose. A celebration of a new beginning? Perfect. Let’s see if they can stomach the feast I have planned for them.

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1 My sister was back in the hospital. All because I opened a window for some fresh air. Outside the ward, my mother jabbed a finger at my face, her spittle flying as she screamed, “We never should have taken you back! Your grandmother raised you wrong, sending you here just to torture your sister!” “If anything happens to Rosie, you can forget about living, too!” Deep in the night, the house was silent. A tall man in a black coat phased through the wall and drifted straight toward my sister’s bed. “Rosie Wallace, your time is up. Come with me.” My sister was sound asleep, but I was wide awake. I scrambled up from my makeshift bed on the floor and stood between him and my sister. My voice trembled, but I didn’t move. “Sir, you’ve made a mistake. That’s my older sister. I’m Rosie.” I glanced back at my mother, sleeping in a chair beside the bed, her brow furrowed even in her dreams. Maybe she’d be happier without me. “Sir, I won’t run,” I said. “But… can I have three more days?” “I want to be here for my mother’s birthday.” … The Man in Black paused. The iron chain in his hand scraped together with a sound that set my teeth on edge. “A substitute?” he rasped. “To take another’s place is to forfeit your own soul, never to be reborn.” I didn’t hesitate. I nodded hard. I looked back at Rosie on the hospital bed. A little color had returned to her cheeks. Even in sleep, a faint smile played on her lips. Mom had read her three fairy tales before bed. Meanwhile, I was curled up on the cold floor, not daring to pull even a corner of the thin blanket for myself. “I’m willing, sir.” “As long as my mother doesn’t have to cry, I’ll do anything.” “Three days. Just three. I want to see her through her birthday.” The Man in Black was silent for a long time. So long I thought he was going to refuse, that he would swing his chain and drag Rosie away. Then, he slowly raised his hand. A tiny, nail-sized stick of incense materialized at his fingertips. It glowed with a violet light, the smoke curling not upwards, but around my wrist. It felt cool against my skin. “This is a soul-thread. When it burns out, your three days are up.” “I will come for you then.” And with that, he vanished into the shadows of the corner. I touched my wrist. A thin, violet mark glowed there, burning down with an agonizing slowness. My own personal countdown clock. I should have been terrified. But for some reason, a strange sense of peace settled over me. Grandma used to say that when people die, they become stars, and from there they can watch over the ones they love most. If I become a star, will I finally see Mom smile at me? Even just once. Just as the sky began to lighten, I was jolted awake by a wracking cough. I tried to get up, but my head was heavy, my vision swam with black spots, and my forehead was burning. “What are you coughing for?” My mother stood over me, her coat thrown over her shoulders, her face a mask of irritation. “If you wake Rosie, I swear I’ll rip your mouth off!” I quickly clamped my hands over my mouth, swallowing the rest of the coughs until tears pricked my eyes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” She scoffed, her eyes filled with disgust. “Well, get up. Rosie will want her vegetable porridge when she wakes. Go to the cafeteria and get it. Make sure it’s the softest kind.” She turned back to the bed, her movements becoming instantly gentle as she dabbed Rosie’s forehead with a damp cloth. I pushed myself up from the floor, my legs shaking. My knees, sore from kneeling for so long last night, screamed with pain. I didn’t dare say I had a fever, too. The last time I said I had a headache, Mom accused me of faking it to get out of chores. If I said anything now, she’d only get angrier. I felt the small, heavy weight in my pocket. My little piggy bank. It held a year’s worth of coins I’d saved since coming back from Grandma’s. I had been planning to buy a new backpack. The strap on my current one was broken, held together with a safety pin, and the other kids always made fun of me. But that didn’t matter anymore. I wouldn’t need a backpack where I was going. I was going to use the money to buy my mother a birthday cake. On her past birthdays, Rosie always got to cut the cake. The wishes were always for Rosie. I just wanted Mom to make a wish for me. Just once. Even if it was just an afterthought. Clutching my piggy bank, I shuffled out of the room. The hallway was freezing; the wind seemed to cut right through to my bones. But as I looked at the violet mark on my wrist, I couldn’t help but smile. Three days left. I had to make them count. 2 The hospital elevators were always a nightmare to wait for. Worried the porridge would get cold, I took the stairs. Nineteen floors. I had to stop on every landing to catch my breath, my lungs feeling like they were on fire. When I pushed open the door to the room, Dad was already there. He was holding a pink bag with the logo of the newest tablet on it. Rosie was propped up in bed, giggling as she played with it. “Thank you, Daddy! I love you the most!” Dad’s face was full of adoration. He reached out and tweaked her nose. “As long as it makes you happy and helps you get better, it’s worth every penny.” Mom was beside them, applying hand cream. The room was filled with a warm, sweet scent. The scent of a home. I was the only thing that didn’t belong. I stood there awkwardly, clutching the lukewarm porridge. “You’re back?” Dad glanced at me, his smile fading slightly. He pulled a pastry out of a bag at his feet and tossed it to me. “Here, you probably haven’t eaten.” The pastry was hard. It hit me in the chest with a dull thud. I looked down. It was one of those cheap, red bean buns, the kind with a bright yellow “Clearance” sticker on the plastic. Nearly expired. On Rosie’s bedside table sat a delicate tiramisu and a carton of imported milk. Rosie and I were twins, but she had been frail since birth. So, naturally, everything in the family went to her first. Including our parents’ love. “Thanks, Dad,” I whispered, bending down to pick it up. Grandma always said to be grateful for what you have. “Daddy,” Rosie suddenly whined, putting down the tablet. “My mouth tastes bitter. I want some of those candied chestnuts from the shop on the corner.” Outside, the sky was a dark, angry grey, and rain was pouring down in sheets. Dad hesitated. “Rosie, honey, it’s a storm out there. Can we wait until it stops?” Rosie’s eyes immediately filled with tears. “No, I want them now! Cough, cough, cough…” Her coughing sent the whole family into a panic. Mom started patting her back while Dad paced frantically. “Okay, okay! Chestnuts it is! Daddy will go right now!” He started to grab an umbrella, but then his eyes fell on me, standing in the corner. He stopped. “Nina,” he said. “Your sister wants chestnuts. Go and get them for her, would you? Your mother and I need to stay here with Rosie. You’re young, you can run. It won’t be a problem for you.” I froze. I wanted to say I didn’t feel well. I wanted to say it was pouring outside. But the look in his eyes silenced me. “Okay.” I put down the bun I’d just taken a bite of and walked out into the rain. I didn’t have an umbrella. The only one was by the door where Dad had left it, but he hadn’t offered it to me. And I hadn’t dared to take it. The rain hammered down on me. My head spun, and the ground seemed to tilt beneath my feet. But I couldn’t stop. I was afraid the chestnut shop would close, afraid Mom would call me useless. The shop was three blocks from the hospital. The rainwater was over my ankles, and my shoes were filled with muddy water. When I finally bought the chestnuts, the lady at the counter looked at me like I was some kind of strange creature. “Little girl, where are your parents? You don’t even have an umbrella in a storm like this.” I managed a weak smile and said nothing. I clutched the warm paper bag of chestnuts to my chest, using my body to shield it from the rain. I was running on my way back. I slipped in a deep puddle, my knee slamming hard against the sharp edge of the curb. My first instinct was to check the chestnuts. The bag wasn’t torn. They were still warm. I breathed a sigh of relief and limped the rest of the way back. When I got to the room, I was dripping wet. “What took you so long?” Mom hissed, keeping her voice low. “And stop stomping around! Rosie just fell asleep!” My hands, holding out the bag of chestnuts, froze mid-air. Dad was on the sofa, scrolling through his phone, not even glancing at me. “Just put it on the table. You’re dripping everywhere. Go dry off before you get your germs all over Rosie.” No one saw my bleeding knee. No one asked if I was cold. I quietly backed out of the room and curled up on a chair in the hallway, staring at the bag of chestnuts on the table. Rosie wouldn’t eat them when she woke up. She never ate chestnuts once they got cold. The thing I had nearly killed myself to get would most likely end up in the trash. Late that night, I looked at my wrist. The violet mark had already burned down by a third. I whispered into the empty air. “Mister Reaper, are souls real? When people die, do they still exist?” “I just want to see if Mom will cry for me. Just once.” The air was silent. No one answered. 3 On the third day, it was Mom’s birthday. My fever had gone down a little, but my head was still spinning. The violet mark on my wrist was just a tiny sliver now. I went to the nurses’ station and begged for a long time before one of them, Nurse Wallace, agreed to let me use the small kitchen in the breakroom for an hour. “Oh, you poor thing, you look so pale. You should be resting,” she said, reaching out to touch my forehead. I flinched away. I wasn’t used to being touched, even kindly. “Thank you, ma’am. I just want to cook a meal for my mom. It’s her birthday today.” I used the last of my money to buy groceries from the market. Sweet and sour ribs, steamed sea bass, and scrambled eggs with tomatoes—all of Mom’s favorites. Grandma taught me that the way to a person’s heart is through their stomach. I knew I could never capture Mom’s heart. But I had to try. The cooking fumes made me cough, and my hands were shaking so badly I nearly sliced my finger while chopping vegetables. But I was more careful than I had ever been. Blanching the ribs, caramelizing the sugar, letting it simmer slowly—I followed every step with meticulous care. When I was done, I packed the food into an insulated container and carried it back to the room. As I walked in, I saw Rosie leaning over the edge of her bed, trying to reach a glass of water on the table. I quickly put the container down. “Don’t move, I’ll get it for you.” I poured a cup of hot water and carefully handed it to her. She was weak from her illness, and her fingers fumbled. She couldn’t get a good grip. “Oops!” The entire cup of scalding water tipped over, splashing all over the back of my foot. Before I could even cry out, Rosie let out a piercing scream. “It’s hot! It’s so hot!” She clutched her hand, which hadn’t been touched by a single drop of water, and fat tears rolled down her cheeks. It was a performance she had perfected since she was a toddler. The door burst open. “What’s wrong?” Dad rushed in, his eyes immediately landing on the crying Rosie and the shattered porcelain on the floor. Without a second thought, he whirled around and shoved me hard. “Your sister is sick! And you’re making her get things for herself?” The force of the push was so strong that I stumbled backward and fell right into the pile of broken shards. A sharp, searing pain shot through my palm. Blood welled up, mixing with the hot water on the floor in a sickening swirl of red. “No, that’s not…” I opened my mouth, trying to explain. Rosie hadn’t held it properly. She had asked me to get it for her. I didn’t mean to burn her. But my throat felt like it was stuffed with cotton. I couldn’t form the words. Grandma always said that explaining was talking back. And nobody loves a child who talks back. I looked at Dad’s furious eyes, at the way he gently cradled Rosie’s uninjured hand, blowing on it softly. Something inside me shattered completely. “I’m sorry,” I choked out, my head bowed low, my tears falling into the puddle of blood. “I wasn’t careful. It was my fault.” If I just admitted I was wrong, the storm would pass. If I just stayed quiet, Mom’s birthday wouldn’t be ruined. As I expected, hearing me apologize cooled his anger slightly. “Just get out of the way. You’re an eyesore.” Ignoring the throbbing pain in my hand, I slowly picked myself up and began cleaning up the broken pieces. Then, I pushed the insulated container forward. “Mom,” I whispered as she walked in, her brow furrowed at the scene. “I made this for you. Happy birthday.” Her expression softened when she saw the table full of food. She didn’t yell at me. During dinner, Rosie chattered away, keeping Mom’s attention. I sat in the corner, nursing a bowl of cold, plain rice. Suddenly, a piece of pork rib landed in my bowl. Mom had given it to me. “Alright, stop looking so miserable,” she said. “It’s a happy day. You should eat, too. These ribs aren’t bad. You’ve got your grandma’s touch.” Tears streamed down my face. It was the first time Mom had ever served me food. The first time she had ever praised me. I put the rib in my mouth. It was so salty, drenched in the taste of my tears. But I chewed it slowly, carefully, not wanting to waste even the bone. It was the most delicious thing I had ever eaten. And it would be the last.

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“The promotion list. My name wasn’t on it.” On the huge screen at the annual company gala, the words were printed in stark black and white: Marketing Supervisor—Lily Duffer. I held my champagne flute, and my hand didn’t so much as tremble. Lily Duffer. Three months with the company. Zero results to her name. My director, Mr. Peterson, walked over and clapped me on the shoulder. “Sarah,” he said, his voice oozing false sympathy, “Lily’s my niece. Young people have that fire, you know? I’m confident she’s up to the task.” I just looked at him. Three consecutive years as Employee of the Year. Twelve major projects led. Over 800 hours of overtime logged annually. None of it mattered more than the word “uncle.” “Of course,” I said, a small, tight smile playing on my lips. “Congratulations to our new supervisor.” Peterson paused, the meaning behind my tone flying completely over his head. But I knew exactly what I meant. My resume was already updated. 1. After the gala, I sat alone at my desk. Half the office lights were already out, leaving the floor steeped in the dim, humming glow of the emergency lamps. My phone buzzed. It was a text from my biggest client, Mr. Harrison. “Sarah, heard your department got a new supervisor?” “Yes,” I typed back. “Is it you?” My fingers hovered over the keyboard for a long moment. “No.” Mr. Harrison didn’t reply. I set my phone down and leaned back in my chair, the worn leather groaning under my weight. Five years. I joined this company in December 2019, fresh out of college. Back then, the marketing department was just me, and Mr. Peterson was still just a manager. I’d done it all—tramped through muddy construction sites, spent days in dusty factories, and once stood for three hours outside a client’s office in sub-zero weather. Mr. Harrison was one of the accounts I’d built from scratch, one business card at a time. The first time we met, he wouldn’t even look me in the eye. “Is this all your company has?” he’d sneered. “Sending a little girl to do a man’s job.” I showed up at his office every single day for a week. Finally, he let me in. Our first deal was for a hundred thousand dollars. Now, Mr. Harrison signs contracts worth over a million dollars a year. And today, the promotion went to Lily Duffer. Lily, who’d been here for three months. Lily, Mr. Peterson’s niece. I stood up and walked to the window. My reflection stared back, a woman who looked five years older than her twenty-eight years. I’d poured the best five years of my life into this place. Employee of the Year, three years running. Top performer in the department. A year-end bonus of one thousand dollars. I let out a dry, bitter laugh. One thousand dollars. What could that buy? It could buy the hollow promise of, “Keep up the great work, Sarah. You’ll be next.” Mr. Peterson said that every single year. This year, he finally made good on his promise. For his niece. My phone buzzed again. It was Diane, a veteran on the team who’d been here a couple of years longer than me. “Sarah, you okay?” “I’m fine.” “We all thought it was going to be you.” I didn’t answer. What good did “we all thought” do? All that mattered was that Mr. Peterson thought it should be Lily. I shut down my phone, grabbed my purse, and headed for the elevators. Down the hall, Lily was posing for photos with a few colleagues. She was radiant in a new designer dress, her makeup flawless, her smile blindingly bright. She saw me and waved. “Sarah! Come get a picture with us!” I stopped. “No, thank you.” “Why not?” She skipped over, her voice a cascade of cheerful ignorance. “Sarah, we’re going to be in the trenches together now! You’ll have to help me out, okay?” She sounded so innocent, so genuinely unaware of whose position she had just stolen. Or maybe she knew. And just didn’t care. I looked at her. Twenty-four years old, a recent graduate, three months on the job, earning ninety thousand a year. I’d been here five years, and my salary was seventy-five thousand. She was already making fifteen thousand more than me. “Supervisor Duffer,” I said, my voice even. “If you run into anything you don’t understand, feel free to ask.” Lily blinked, unable to tell if I was being polite or sarcastic. “Okay! Thanks, Sarah, you’re the best!” I turned and stepped into the elevator. Just as the doors slid shut, I saw her whispering to her friends, laughing and gesturing in my direction. I pressed the button for the ground floor. As the elevator descended, I pulled out my phone and opened the LinkedIn app. My profile had been updated yesterday. I didn’t start looking today. I started the third time Mr. Peterson told me, “You’ll be next.” I’m not stupid. I was just waiting for the final verdict. Today, it came in. I lost to an uncle. So I was done playing the game. 2. The next day, Lily officially took charge. She sent a message to the department’s group chat: “Hi everyone! I’m your new supervisor, Lily Duffer! I’m so excited to be working with all of you. Please show me the ropes!” A flood of replies followed: “Welcome, Lily!” “So great to have you leading us!” “Excited to work with you!” I didn’t reply. Diane sent me a private message. “Did you see that?” “I did.” “Makes you want to puke, doesn’t it?” I didn’t answer. At ten a.m., Mr. Peterson called me into his office. “Sarah, have a seat.” I sat. “Lily’s new, and she’s not quite up to speed on our operations yet. I need you to train her.” I stared at him. “Train her?” “Yes. You’re a senior employee, you have the experience. It’s your job to guide the newcomers,” Peterson said with a placid smile. “Young professionals need to have perspective, Sarah. Don’t get caught up in the small stuff.” Perspective. There was that word again. My first year, when I worked until two in the morning, he told me, “Young people need to be able to handle hardship.” My second year, when I landed the company’s biggest client, he told me, “Young people need to stay humble.” My third year, when I won Employee of the Year, he told me, “Young people need to see the bigger picture.” And now, after his niece snatched my promotion, he was telling me, “Young people need to have perspective.” “Mr. Peterson,” I said. “I can train her.” “Ah, I knew you’d understand, Sarah. You’re always such a team player—” “But,” I cut him off. “I’d like to confirm something first. What is Supervisor Duffer’s salary?” Peterson froze. “Well… I’m not at liberty to discuss that.” “Then let me ask another question,” I said, my eyes locked on his. “My salary hasn’t increased in five years. Is that because the company isn’t performing well?” The color drained from his face. “Sarah, what are you trying to say?” “Nothing,” I said, standing up. “I’ll get Supervisor Duffer familiar with our business.” I turned and walked out. From behind me, Peterson’s voice followed, strained and sharp. “Sarah, I don’t appreciate this attitude!” I didn’t look back. When I got to my desk, Lily was already there, perched on the edge of it. “Sarah!” she chirped, leaning in conspiratorially. “My uncle said you’d be training me! That’s so great! I was so nervous about doing this alone.” I booted up my computer. “What do you want to learn?” “How do you handle the client-facing stuff? I’ve never really done sales before.” Never done sales. The head of the marketing department had never done sales. I took a slow, deep breath. “Client relations starts with understanding their needs—” “Wait, Sarah,” Lily interrupted. “Mr. Harrison is your client, right?” “He is.” “He’s so amazing! A million-dollar account!” Her eyes were sparkling. “My uncle said I should spend more time with him, you know, to learn from the best.” I turned my head to look at her. “You want to work with Mr. Harrison?” “Yep! My uncle said that a client that important should be managed directly by the supervisor.” A cold, sharp laugh escaped my lips before I could stop it. “Lily, I built that account from nothing. I’ve been managing it for five years.” “Exactly! So I can help take some of the pressure off you!” “Are you sure about that?” “Totally!” she said, brimming with unearned confidence. “I may not have sales experience, but I’m a super fast learner!” I looked at her bright, innocent face. It must be nice. To have done nothing and yet feel entitled to everything. “Fine,” I said. “I’ll set up a meeting with Mr. Harrison for you.” “Really? Sarah, you’re amazing!” I turned back to my screen. My phone vibrated. It was a message from a recruiter. “Ms. Miller, we’ve received your application. Do you have a moment to chat on the phone this week?” I glanced over at Lily. She was taking a selfie to post on Instagram. I replied to the recruiter. “I can call you tomorrow at three p.m.” Perspective, right? My perspective was about finding a better road for myself. 3. At three p.m. the next day, I took an hour of personal time and went outside to take the call. The recruiter was a man with a crisp, professional voice. “Ms. Miller, your resume is very impressive. Three-time Employee of the Year, managing the company’s largest account with an annual value of over a million dollars.” “That’s right.” “We have a few positions we’d like to recommend, all at the Marketing Director level.” Marketing Director. Two steps above my current role. “What industry are you most interested in?” I thought for a moment. “I’m open to any industry. I’m prioritizing compensation and room for growth.” “Understood,” he said, pausing. “There’s one opportunity that might particularly interest you. It’s with a direct competitor of your current company. They’re looking for a new Head of Marketing.” “A competitor?” “Yes. The salary they’re offering is around $150,000, with a performance-based bonus at the end of the year.” One hundred and fifty thousand. More than double what I was making now. “Could you tell me more?” “Of course. Their marketing efforts have been lackluster in the past, but they’re under new ownership and are looking to expand aggressively. Your experience, and your client relationships, are exactly what they need.” Client relationships. I knew what he meant. “I’ll think about it.” “Excellent. Please let me know.” After hanging up, I stood on the sidewalk below my office building and lit a cigarette. I don’t usually smoke. But today, I needed it. My phone buzzed again. A text from Lily. “Sarah, is the meeting with Mr. Harrison set up yet?” I replied: “Yes. Next Wednesday at two p.m.” “Awesome! You’ll come with me, right?” I didn’t answer. That night, I opened my laptop and started organizing my client files. Five years had left me with a portfolio of over thirty clients, five of them major accounts. Mr. Harrison was the biggest. I had chased down every single one of them. Some of them didn’t even acknowledge Mr. Peterson. They dealt only with me. Mr. Harrison was one of them. I remembered a dinner we’d had last year. After a few drinks, he’d said, “Sarah, if you ever leave that company, you give me a call. I’ll follow you.” I’d dismissed it as drunken rambling at the time. Now, I wasn’t so sure. I opened my web browser and carefully reread the job description for the competitor’s position. The company was a similar size to my current one, but it was on an upward trajectory. A salary of $150,000. A year-end bonus with no cap. And most importantly, Head of Marketing. The power to make decisions. No more listening to Mr. Peterson talk about “perspective.” I bookmarked the job posting. Then I opened my contacts and found Mr. Harrison’s number. I composed a text, then deleted it. Not yet. First, I needed the offer in hand. Then I would make my move.

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He had millions to spend, and he spent them all to launch his “Gilded Girl.” The tabloids sneered, calling her a cheap copy of me—the “Substitutable Ex.” But Liam Miller silenced the city. He stood before the flashes of a hundred cameras, shielding her, and told the world she was the one he’d always waited for. He said I was the counterfeit. So, when his “Gilded Girl” demanded to film her new reality show in my remote, sleepy hometown, Liam didn’t hesitate. He signed the check with a smile. What none of them knew was that I hadn’t just “retired.” I had gone home to die. Chapter 1 The day Liam and his obsession arrived, I was lying in a lawn chair in my backyard, soaking up the pale afternoon sun. My friend Macy burst in, her eyes glued to her phone. “Olivia, you’re trending again.” I felt a ghost of a headache. In the industry, four months is an eternity. I thought my disappearance had finally been bleached from the public’s memory. Liam had turned Mia’s debut into a national event. The hashtags were everywhere. Even Liam, a man who usually treated the press like a plague, was caught on camera smiling at her. He looked genuinely happy. Not forced. Not staged. But wherever Mia went, my name followed like a shadow. The “Billionaire and his Muse” trope never gets old—especially when one is a fallen star who vanished overnight, and the other is the childhood sweetheart he finally reclaimed. I logged into my long-abandoned Instagram. The comments were a bloodbath. “Why are you hiding, girl? Come back and fight for your man!” “She tried to play hard to get for years, but she was just a seat-warmer for the real Queen. Imagine being the backup for a decade. Pathetic.” “I bet her ‘illness’ is just code for being dumped and losing her sponsors.” I let out a soft, dry laugh. I pulled my cardigan sleeve down, hiding my arms—arms that were currently a roadmap of bruises and needle marks from the IVs. On the screen, Liam was shielding Mia from a swarm of paparazzi at JFK. He draped his designer coat over her shoulders, his hand gripping hers with a fierce, protective intensity. “Mr. Miller, can you comment on your relationship with the lady?” a reporter shouted. “Are you still in touch with Olivia? How do you feel about her sudden retirement due to ‘health issues’?” Liam’s voice came through the speakers, cool and detached. “Mia is my partner, and she always has been. She’s starting her career now, and I expect the industry to give her the respect she deserves.” He said so much, yet not a single word was for me. When my name was mentioned, his jaw tightened in a flicker of pure disgust. “But people are calling Mia ‘Olivia 2.0’!” the reporter pressed. “They say she’s just a placeholder for the aesthetic Olivia built. What’s your take?” Liam stopped. He looked directly into the lens, his eyes like ice. “I’ll say this once. If I hear anyone compare Mia to her again, my legal team will be in touch. Mia has never been a substitute.” “The only substitute in this story was Olivia.” Chapter 2 The internet exploded. Half the world thought Liam was a heartless prick; the other half thought I was a home-wrecker who finally got what she deserved. Macy watched me carefully, looking for a breakdown. I actually snickered. “I’m over it, Mace. Trust me. I’m just annoyed they’re making me a supporting character in their twisted little rom-com. It’s bad for my zen.” Liam was a man of action. He bought Mia every role, every billboard, every cover. He even skipped board meetings to sit through her rehearsals. But instead of a blockbuster, Mia chose a “back-to-basics” reality show. And she demanded it be filmed in my hometown—a tiny, fog-heavy coastal village in Maine. It was a petty, nonsensical request. But Liam agreed instantly. He ordered the production to revolve entirely around Mia’s whims. Fans caught on quickly. “Wait, isn’t that Olivia’s hometown? Mia is savage.” “Probably just a coincidence. Stop reaching.” “Coincidence? In a village with one grocery store and no cell service? Mia’s basically hunting her.” I didn’t care. I was a woman with an expiration date. I had nothing left to fear. Three days later, Mia showed up at my gate. She had a camera crew in tow, lenses practically grazing my skin. I wasn’t used to the glare anymore. I instinctively raised my hand to block the sun. My sleeve slipped. The needle marks were visible for a split second. Mia stood behind the cameras, her eyes scanning me with cold triumph. “Is Olivia’s fan club watching?” she whispered, loud enough for the mics. “Come look at your idol. I almost didn’t recognize her. She looks… haunting.” The live-chat scrolled at light speed: “Holy crap, she’s skin and bones. Is she on something?” “Look at her arms. Those aren’t just ‘health issues’ marks.” “Stop being so gullible. Olivia was always a great actress. This is just her latest play for sympathy.” Chapter 3 I remembered the last time I “played” for sympathy. It was our second year. We’d been caught by the tabloids. To save his image, Liam turned our “arrangement” into a public relationship. When Mia found out, she called him crying from London. He spent hours soothing her, then turned that tenderness into a rage directed at me. My condition had flared up that night. I was terrified. I called him, begging him to come home. When he finally showed up, he looked at me—pale, trembling, and sick—with nothing but loathing. “Olivia,” he had said, “you should just go die in a corner somewhere and stop bothering us.” Well, he got his wish. Mia came back the next day. This time, she brought the King himself. Liam looked at me, his brow furrowing almost imperceptibly. “Are you that desperate for money? You look like a ghost.” I smiled. “Starving artist, Liam. Want to donate to the cause? I’ll pay you back in the next life.” He went to snap something back, but Mia interjected, clinging to his arm. “Liam, honey, you promised!” Liam cleared his throat. “The production team likes your house. They want to use it for the show. Name your price, but you have to move out by tonight.” My smile vanished. “No.” Mia scoffed. “It’s a shack, Olivia. We’re doing you a favor by even looking at it.” I ignored her, staring straight at Liam. “You know what this house means to me. It’s all I have left of my parents.” Mia nudged him. Liam’s eyes hardened. “It’s just a house. Don’t be dramatic. Just give me a number.” My heart did a strange, heavy thud, and then… silence. This was Liam Miller. For Mia, he would burn down the world. “Two hundred million,” I said. Chapter 4 Mia hit the roof. “Two hundred million? You’re insane! We could give you twenty grand and that’s being generous!” I didn’t look at her. I waited for Liam. He watched me, his dark eyes unreadable. Suddenly, he stepped forward and grabbed my wrist. Before I could pull away, he shoved my sleeve up. The bruises and the needle tracks were laid bare for the cameras. I pushed him back, my face burning with cold fury. “You’re crossing the line, Liam.” He let out a sharp, mocking laugh. “Same old Olivia. Still a master of the fake-out. The makeup artist did a great job on those ‘needle marks.’ Very convincing.” “The money will be wired to you tonight. Be out by six.” Macy appeared from around the corner after they left, her eyes red. “Liv, why did you agree? They’re going to trash this place.” I showed her the bank notification on my phone. “Money talks, Mace. And I need it for the clinic bills.” Liam stayed in town. He stayed in a cottage not far from Mia’s set. One afternoon, I was at the local doctor’s office—Dr. Evans, Macy’s boyfriend—to get my shots. I ran into Liam and Mia at the entrance. Mia was leaning weakly against Liam, looking pale. She saw me and purposefully lunged forward, “accidentally” slamming her shoulder into my bruised arm. I gasped. The pain was white-hot. She didn’t even apologize. She just muttered, “God, stop being such a drama queen.” Liam’s eyes never left Mia. He was too busy worrying about her “exhaustion.” Later that night, Mia came to see me alone. “I want you gone, Olivia. Go somewhere Liam will never find you.” I looked at her, truly puzzled. “You’re the one who brought him here. You’re the one who chose my backyard. Why are you so insecure?” “You’re his childhood sweetheart, Mia. He told the whole world you’re his only love. So what are you afraid of? That he’ll realize I’m not just a ghost?” Her face contorted. “You have twenty-four hours. Otherwise, I’ll make sure your reputation is buried so deep you’ll never see the sun again.” I waited until she vanished into the night. Then, I pulled out my phone and stopped the recording. Mia was a fool. I had intended to let them have their fun and leave. But if she wanted to play dirty with a woman who had nothing to lose? Fine. Let’s play. Chapter 5 I sent the recording to Liam. His reaction was… complicated. He showed up at my door, looking like he’d been through a war. “How much for the recording?” he asked. “You need money. I’ll double what I paid for the house.” He was still protecting her. Typical. “Olivia, why did you leave without saying goodbye four months ago?” he asked suddenly. “I know the ‘illness’ was just a stunt to get my attention…” “It wasn’t a stunt,” I said quietly. “I’m dying, Liam. For real.” He flinched, then sneered. “You’ve said that lie too many times. It’s lost its impact.” I turned my back on him. “Then we have nothing left to say. Get out.” He grabbed my arm again. I suppressed a scream of pain. “Is this another act? To make me feel guilty?” his voice was a whisper of frost. “You haven’t changed at all. Still a liar. Still bitter.” I started laughing. I laughed until tears streamed down my face. What a life. My parents gone, my body failing, and the only man I ever loved was a monster who thought my death was a PR stunt. I felt the world tilt. My vision blurred. I collapsed into the dark.

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