Category: English

In the tenth year of my stand-in marriage, my sister came back from the dead. The entire family stared at her in silence. She yawned, running a hand through her perfectly messy hair. “Thirteen countries,” she said, her voice dripping with manufactured boredom. “God, I’m exhausted.” She scanned the room. “Where’s Leo? He must be in elementary school by now. Shouldn’t he come say hi to his real mom?” Leo is my sister’s son. Ten years ago, she gave birth, then faked her death on her wedding day, leaving behind her newborn and her fiancé. The Hayes family is old money. East Coast royalty. My parents, terrified of the consequences, decided to package me up—fresh out of college—and deliver me to the wedding in her place. For the last decade, I have been a perfect wife. A devoted mother. Now, watching my sister’s breathtaking entitlement, my parents’ eyes shifted to me. I offered a faint, placid smile. “Leo and his father are in the Cayman Islands for the week.” … At my words, my sister Vivian’s brows knitted together in annoyance. “I told you I was coming home. Didn’t you tell Julian I was back?” I took a calm, deliberate sip of my coffee. The last ten years had forged me into someone new. I was no longer the transparent girl living in my sister’s dazzling shadow. My silence infuriated her. She shot to her feet, her voice sharp. “Nora Chen! What is that supposed to mean? Don’t you forget, I’m the one with the marriage contract. Now that I’m back, do you really think you can keep your spot as Mrs. Hayes?” I glanced up at her, a small smile playing on my lips. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Vivian. My husband and I have a very strong relationship.” It was true. For ten years, I had stood by Julian Hayes’s side at every charity gala, every business dinner, every weekend retreat. We were known as the golden couple. Julian’s reputation as a devoted husband had won him the admiration and trust of countless business partners. There might not be a sweeping romance between Julian and me, but we are bound by something far more resilient than love. Mutual benefit. An empire. That is the source of my confidence. Vivian’s face was a mask of disbelief. She pointed a trembling finger at me. “Nora! Have you no shame? He’s your brother-in-law!” I set my coffee cup down, my posture poised and unyielding. “No,” I said, my smile never wavering. “He is my legal husband.” My gaze was firm. I stood up, ready to end this farce. My parents stood by, wringing their hands, utterly useless. Vivian rushed to my mother, grabbing her sleeve. “Mom, she’s lost her mind! Julian and I were college sweethearts! If it wasn’t for me, if it wasn’t for the Hayes family, would our company be where it is today?” My parents have always favored Vivian. But now, my mother risked a glance in my direction before answering in a weak, wavering voice. “But… you ran away, Vivi. You faked your own death. We didn’t hear a word from you for a decade.” “The wedding was happening! There was no bride! If your sister hadn’t stepped in, the public humiliation would have destroyed the Hayes family, and they would have ruined us!” Vivian’s face froze for a second. “I… I just wasn’t ready to get married yet! But I’m back now, aren’t I?” she stammered. “Besides, you know how snobby the Hayes family is. They already looked down on us. And I’d just had a baby. If I had married him then, they would have treated me like dirt!” My expression was cold as I asked, “Why did you come back?” Her answer was a masterpiece of self-absorption. “Well, they’ve accepted you, haven’t they? Which means they’ll accept me now. It’s perfect!” “I can marry Julian, his parents will have to be nice to me, and Leo can finally have his real mother. It’s a win-win for everyone.” She closed the distance between us, grabbing my hands, her eyes wide and sincere. “Nora, you’re free! You can finally go find your own happiness.” I stared into her eyes, expressionless. In their depths, I saw the profound, unthinking innocence that comes from a lifetime of being spoiled and adored. An innocence so pure it was cruel. She was so certain that I, the overlooked younger sister, existed only to sacrifice for her. I let out a cold laugh and pulled my hands from her grasp. “I am perfectly happy with my life, Vivian. You’re the one who needs a reality check.” With that, I turned and walked out of the house that had never felt like a home. I didn’t know how Vivian was feeling, but I was sure it wasn’t good. And knowing her, she wouldn’t give up this easily. I returned to the Hayes estate, a deep exhaustion settling into my bones. For the past week, I’d been consumed by a new project, working late into the night every day. I stepped inside, rubbing the bridge of my nose. An hour ago, my parents’ text had arrived: Your sister is back. My body had gone rigid. I always knew this day might come, but the reality of it still left me stunned. I hung my purse on the hook and glanced down. A pair of men’s dress shoes sat neatly on the mat. I froze for a second before schooling my features into a pleasant, welcoming smile. “You’re back?” a warm, smooth voice asked. I turned. Julian Hayes stood there in a simple black silk pajama set that did little to hide his broad shoulders and narrow waist. He was tall, handsome, his gentle eyes framed by gold-rimmed glasses. He frowned slightly, a flicker of concern in his gaze. “You look exhausted. Haven’t you been sleeping?” I smiled. “Just a lot going on at work. Did you have a good trip? How’s Leo?” Julian stepped forward, pulling me gently into his arms. His chin rested on my shoulder, his warm breath ghosting across my neck. His long, elegant fingers traced soothing patterns on my back. “Leo had a blast,” he murmured. “He’s already crashed. The only thing missing was you. Next time, all three of us will go.” His voice dropped lower, a thread of husky intimacy weaving through it. “I missed you.” I felt the warmth of his chest against my back, but a chill spread through my core. A soft pressure, his lips, touched the back of my neck. My body went stiff. All I could hear were Vivian’s words from earlier, echoing in my head. I didn’t respond the way I usually did. I pushed back, just slightly, creating a space between us. “I…” My voice trailed off. I felt it—the barest hint of a flinch, a sudden tension in his body. I sensed his displeasure immediately. After a beat, Julian finished my sentence for me, his voice smooth again. “You’re exhausted. Go take a hot bath and get some sleep.” He had given me an out. He leaned in and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to my forehead. I nodded and turned to go upstairs. Behind me, the man stood in the shadows, his expression unreadable, the atmosphere in the room turning heavy and cold. His eyes were locked on my retreating back, a back that was suddenly burdened with secrets. The next morning, I left for work as usual. Just as I was pulling out of the gated community, a familiar figure appeared. My hands tightened on the steering wheel. Vivian saw my car and darted in front of it, forcing me to slam on the brakes. The car behind me laid on its horn. It was the middle of the morning rush hour. A security guard rushed over, trying to pull her away. But Vivian was relentless, screaming even as he dragged her back. “Nora Chen! Stop ignoring me! You have no shame, sleeping with your sister’s husband!” Her shrill voice attracted stares from every direction. I pulled my car to the side of the road and got out. I faced her, my expression like ice. Vivian gave a triumphant smirk, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “What’s wrong?” she purred. “Embarrassed? Or just scared Julian will find out I’m back and kick you to the curb?” My voice was frosted over. “Vivian, you are seriously disrupting my life. This is your last warning. Stay away from me.” She ignored me completely, her smile widening. “Don’t pretend, Nora. You’re terrified. You’ve lived in my shadow your whole life. It’s only natural you’d be jealous and want to take my place.” She took a few steps closer, leaning in to whisper in my ear. “But a cuckoo in the nest always gets kicked out eventually. I’ll wait right here for Julian. When I explain everything to him, I know he’ll forgive me.” “And Leo,” she added, her voice hardening, “is the child I gave birth to. We have a bond you can never break. Don’t you ever think you can replace me.” I didn’t say another word. I just got back in my car. This time, she didn’t stop me. In the rearview mirror, I saw her standing there, a smug smile on her face. A chill ran through me. Vivian had been spoiled her entire life. She operated without rules or consequences. If anyone crossed her, she would throw a tantrum of epic proportions, a grown woman acting like a giant toddler. I took a deep breath, trying to force her from my mind. For ten years, I had painstakingly built this life, this career, this marriage. If we divorced, it wouldn’t just be me who suffered. Julian would too. Our entire empire was built on this partnership. Julian, at least, had a safety net. I had no one but myself. I sat in my office, my thoughts drifting back. When we were in elementary school, Vivian would spend every summer running wild, never touching her homework. On the first day of school, terrified of being scolded, she would demand to copy mine. My parents would always justify it. Nora’s such a good student, the teacher won’t mind if she doesn’t turn it in. But if Vivian doesn’t, she’ll be humiliated in front of the whole class. For the sake of Vivian’s pride, my work was always hers for the taking. Eventually, I just started doing two sets of homework every holiday. In high school, she discovered boys. She chased the captain of the football team, got into fights, and charmed her way into every teacher’s good graces. Her grades were terrible, but she was popular and vivacious. There was always someone to clean up her messes. I had to be careful. Every step I took was calculated. In college, she met Julian at an off-campus music festival. They started an indie band, performing in smoky bars. For two months, while I was juggling three part-time jobs to pay for tuition, they were on stage, basking in the glory of their reckless youth. I thought that after graduation, I would finally save enough money to escape my family for good. Then came the night Vivian stumbled home late, her face caked in makeup, wearing a crop top and shorts that were barely there. She was drunk. She started feeling sick, and my parents, frantic, rushed her to the hospital. The test results came back. Vivian was pregnant. A heavy silence fell over our house. My parents were in a state of shock. I was busy working a summer job to save for my senior year. The only calm person in the house was Vivian herself. It was as if the new life growing inside her was a complete abstraction. Because of the pregnancy, my parents made her stay home, stuffing her with supplements and fresh fruit. Meanwhile, they negotiated with the Hayes family. The plan was set: once the baby was born and a paternity test was done, the wedding would take place. The Hayes family, backed into a corner and desperate to avoid a scandal that could tank their company’s stock, reluctantly agreed. The night before the wedding, I took a four-hour drive home from college. The next morning, the wedding cars arrived, but Vivian was gone. All that was left in the room was a swaddled, sleeping Leo and the stony-faced members of the Hayes family. Julian’s expression was thunderous. My parents stood there, fidgeting, until their eyes slowly landed on me. My mother’s face lit up as if she’d found a lifeline. “We still have another daughter! She’s never even had a boyfriend!” My father immediately chimed in. “Yes! Nora! Quickly! Your sister’s gone. You’re the only one who can do this!” I stood there, stunned, my mind unable to process their words. Before I could react, they were on me, each grabbing an arm, trying to drag me into the dressing room to put on the wedding gown. I fought back, a cold dread washing over me. Disbelief warred with a volcanic anger. The first twenty years of my life had been spent in Vivian’s shadow. Was the rest of my life going to be a sacrifice for her, too? The injustice of it all filled my chest, and my nose began to burn. It was the first time I had ever truly broken down. I screamed, shoving their hands away. “Why?! Why should I be responsible for her selfishness? It’s been like this my whole life!” My father’s hand cracked across my face. “She is your sister!” I staggered back, my cheek stinging. My mother was sobbing. “What your sister did was terrible, we know. But you can’t just let our family be destroyed! The guests are all waiting for the bride!” My face was a numb mask. I finally squeezed the words out through my teeth. “I will not get married.” No matter how much they pleaded or how they tried to physically force me, I refused. I grabbed a fruit knife from a nearby platter and held it to my own throat, my eyes wild. “If anyone tries to make me, I’ll kill myself!” Everyone froze. I don’t know if they were afraid I would die, or just afraid that a dead body would be even more inconvenient than a missing bride. Either way, I didn’t care. I had graduated. Once I found a job, I would be free. The standoff was broken by Julian. He suggested he and I speak alone. The room cleared. In the bridal suite, it was just me and Julian Hayes.

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After building a business empire from scratch, my doctor told me that years of overwork had rendered me unable to have children. To ensure my life’s work would have a successor, I adopted a brilliant boy from a poor background. I funded his MBA, placed him at the core of Sterling Corporation, and groomed him to take my place. Ten years later, his high school sweetheart reappeared as the CEO of a rival company, weeping that she had been forced to leave him all those years ago. Moved beyond reason, and to prove his love, he stole my company’s core secrets and presented them to her as a token of his devotion. “Mom, I owe you everything,” he told me. “But I can’t live without her. If you agree to retire now, I’ll make sure you receive a generous pension.” A pension? I picked up my office intercom, my voice like ice. “Get the legal department on the line. Prepare for litigation. Also, inform the six other candidates hidden across our subsidiaries that the final assessment has begun.” 1 I learned a long time ago not to put all my eggs in one basket. That’s why, like opening a series of blind boxes, I adopted seven gifted children from underprivileged backgrounds all at once. Leah Sterling was the youngest. He was the one I kept by my side, the one I taught personally, the one I invested the most in. I looked at him now—the timid boy I had single-handedly molded into a rising star of the business world. He stood in my office, dressed in an expensive suit I’d had tailored for him, his handsome face a mask of tragic determination. “Mom,” he began, “I’m sorry.” I sipped my coffee, saying nothing. “It’s Ava,” he said, referring to his first love, now the CEO of our main competitor. “She’s back. She told me she had her reasons for leaving me back then! She went away to protect me!” I nearly choked on my coffee. Protect him? Back then, he was so poor he had to think twice before adding an egg to his meal in the cafeteria. What was there to protect? His poverty? His youth? His perpetually unkempt hair? Leah didn’t see the sarcasm in my eyes. He was lost in his own epic love story. “She’s had it so hard, a woman all alone, fighting to get ahead. Now, it’s my turn to protect her.” “And so?” I put down my cup and met his gaze. He took a deep breath and pushed a file across my desk. “This is our company’s core strategic plan for the next three years. I’ve already given a copy to Ava. It’s my commitment to her, a necessary step for our future.” The office was dead silent. As if that weren’t enough, he added, “Mom, you gave me a new life. I’ll never forget that. But I can’t live without her. If you agree to retire now, I’ll have Ava arrange a generous pension for you. You’ll be comfortable for the rest of your life.” A pension? The taxes I paid last quarter alone were enough to buy his girlfriend’s company three times over. Seeing my silence, he must have thought I was considering it. He took a step forward, a hint of a threat in his voice. “Mom, you’re not young anymore. It’s time to enjoy life. I’m doing this for your own good. But if you insist on being stubborn and making things unpleasant for everyone… then I won’t be responsible for you in your old age.” “Hah.” A small, sharp laugh escaped my throat. I finally raised my eyes, my voice devoid of all warmth. “Leah, are you telling me that if I don’t retire, you’ll cut me off?” He stiffened his neck, his expression a perfect blend of reluctance and resolve, as if to say, You’re forcing my hand. “Yes.” “Very well.” I nodded and picked up the intercom on my desk. A flicker of triumph crossed Leah’s face. He thought I was caving, calling the finance department to negotiate the pension amount. My finger pressed a different button. “Get me Legal,” I said, my voice glacial. “Inform them that Leah Sterling is in material breach of his contract. I want the highest-level litigation protocol activated immediately. I want him served with a court summons within twenty-four hours.” The expression on Leah’s face froze solid. Before he could react, I dialed a second number—the direct line to my chief of staff. “Send a top-level encrypted email to my children. Subject: Dividing the Inheritance. Tell them that anyone who doesn’t show up will have all their black cards, trust funds… everything… frozen.” My assistant’s calm, steady voice came through the line, laced with a hint of excitement. “Understood, Ms. Sterling.” I hung up and finally turned my attention back to Leah, who was still standing there, a look of complete bewilderment on his face. I offered him a gentle smile. “No need for the pension. But you might want to worry about yourself,” I said, gesturing toward the door. “After all, prison food might not agree with you.” 2 Leah’s face was a canvas of rapidly shifting emotions—shock, disbelief, utter confusion. After a full thirty seconds, he finally seemed to process the information. Then, he laughed. “Hahaha…” He laughed so hard he bent over, tears welling in his eyes. “Mom, I admit, you almost had me. That’s a brilliant move, trying to pull the rug out from under me!” I raised an eyebrow, saying nothing, content to let him play out his little drama. He stepped forward, pointing at me with absolute certainty. “You think a couple of phone calls will scare me? Make me feel threatened enough to submit to you?” He grew more agitated as he spoke. “Everyone in this corporation knows I’m your sole heir! For ten years, you’ve poured all your resources into me! You can’t function without me! Without me, this entire business empire of yours will collapse!” “Sole heir?” I finally spoke, my voice tinged with weariness. “Leah, your information is out of date.” Just then, the office door was pushed open again, this time without even the courtesy of a knock. Ava Chen strode in, dressed in the latest Chanel suit, her makeup flawless, her chin held high. She slid her arm possessively through Leah’s, her gaze drifting over me with casual disdain. “Auntie Josephine, why must you be so difficult?” she began. “Leah is only thinking of you. You’ve worked your entire life. It’s time to relax, travel the world, enjoy yourself.” Her eyes scanned my office. “This company will be ours now—mine and Leah’s. Don’t you worry. We young people have fresh ideas. We’ll take the company to a whole new level.” Buoyed by her words, Leah’s confidence returned. He stood up straight. “Did you hear that, Josephine? Your era is over! Your archaic management style should have been thrown out years ago!” He glared at me, his voice dripping with arrogance. “I suggest you accept our offer gracefully. Otherwise, once I inherit the corporation, it won’t be so easy to come begging to me!” Ava tapped him playfully on the chest. “Now, now, Leah, is that any way to talk to your mother? She’s worked hard for this company for many years. We, the younger generation, must know how to be grateful.” I looked at the Oscar-worthy performance unfolding before me and finally lost all patience. I picked up the intercom and dialed my assistant. “Arthur,” I said, my voice perfectly calm, betraying no emotion, “please send Security up.” “Right away, Ms. Sterling,” he replied. I hung up, picked up my now-cold coffee, and didn’t even bother to look at them again. “The air purifier in my office has its limits,” I said coolly. “It can’t handle the foul air you’re spewing.” 3 In less than a minute, four burly men in black suits and sunglasses appeared at the door. “Ms. Sterling,” the head of security said with a slight bow. “Please escort these two guests out,” I said, gesturing to the petrified Leah and Ava. “And throw away everything they touched. Including the carpet.” “You wouldn’t dare!” Leah finally snapped out of his stupor, his face flushing red. “Josephine! Don’t you forget, this company’s core technology is all in my head! You do this to me today, and I’ll make the stock price plummet tomorrow!” Ava shrieked, “You can’t touch me! I’m the CEO of Chen Industries! This is unlawful detention!” The head of security acted as if he hadn’t heard a word. He simply gestured, and two of his men moved forward, grabbing one person each and lifting them as if they were a couple of unruly chickens. The entire process was swift and brutally efficient. “Josephine! You’ll regret this! You heartless old woman!” Leah screamed as he was dragged away. “You’ll end up betrayed and alone! I’ll be waiting for the day you come crawling back to me on your knees!” The office door slammed shut with a solid thud. Finally, peace and quiet. I leaned back in my chair, closed my eyes, and rubbed my throbbing temples. I wasn’t angry. I wasn’t even particularly disappointed. I just thought he was an idiot. The private phone on my desk rang, shattering the moment of silence. It was my eldest, Arthur Sterling. He was the chief legal counsel for Vanguard Capital, the most aggressive investment subsidiary in my portfolio. “Mother,” a calm, slightly amused voice came from the other end. “I just wrapped up a hostile takeover meeting when your assistant’s email came through. Dividing the inheritance? Which underperforming subsidiary are you breaking up this time? Just a heads-up, the legal process is expensive. My team bills by the hour.” A hint of warmth crept into my tired voice. “Arthur, it’s not a subsidiary. It’s your brother, Leah. We have a problem.” There were three seconds of silence on the line. “Leah?” Arthur’s voice turned to ice. “I see. A hothouse flower was never going to survive in the wild. What do you need? Shall I initiate litigation for breach of his non-compete, or go straight for a corporate espionage investigation?” “Just come home first.” “Understood.” He hung up, decisive as always. Immediately, my personal phone began to vibrate incessantly with a cascade of notifications. Messages were pouring in from every corner of the globe, from every sector of my empire. [Angela Sterling, Aegis Security Tech]: Mom, I’ve detected an abnormal access log in the corporate firewall. The breach originated from Leah’s office terminal with high-level clearance. I’ve patched the back door and left him a little present. Do you need me to brick his computer? 🙂 [Victoria Sterling, Starlight Media]: MOM!!! WHAT IS GOING ON?! Dividing the inheritance?! Your assistant said you were upset. Is some executive at HQ trying to stage a coup? Give me a name. I’ll have my PR team dig up all their dirt and make them a trending topic by morning! [Julian Sterling, Apex Securities]: Mother, there’s unusual capital movement in the European market related to our key tech stocks. It seems the information Leah leaked is already having an effect. Do you want me to short them into oblivion? … A smile spread across my face as I read through the messages. Raising children really is like portfolio management. When one stock crashes, you have others that are soaring, maybe even creating a bull market of their own. I picked up my phone and sent a group message. “Everyone, home. Family meeting. Last one here gets to clean up Leah’s mess.”

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In the dead of night, my arch-nemesis suddenly sent me a shirtless pic. Three seconds later, he followed up: [Oops, my hand slipped.] Another three seconds: [Did you see it? It’s a picture of my abs.] [They’re mine, not someone else’s.] [Hello? You there?] [Forget it, I’ll just delete it. Good thing you didn’t see.] [Damn, it won’t delete. So annoying!] [You’re not allowed to look!] [OMG, so embarrassing, don’t you dare look!] [Did you hear me?! I said DON’T LOOK!] Me: “…” 1 The hashtag #KiraJiangGetsCatfishedLive trended on social media, and for once in my life, I actually felt a flicker of shame. It all started on a live variety show earlier that night. During one of the game segments, my phone screen was projected onto a massive display for everyone to see. The challenge was to post a dramatic, angsty status and see which of our friends would be the first to show concern. But the moment my post went up, a message popped in. It was a steamy, artfully taken photo of a chiseled six-pack, accompanied by a text: [Kira, I think I got a mosquito bite right here. It’s so itchy.] [Do you have any cream you’d recommend?] The studio audience erupted in a chorus of whoops and whistles. Belatedly, I glanced at the contact name: “Sweet Tummy 185.” A guy I’d randomly added at a bar a few weeks ago. He had a habit of sending flirty messages, but tonight, he’d clearly decided to throw all caution to the wind and send a shirtless pic. Putting on a brave face, I turned to the host. “Does this count as concern?” “Not quite,” he chirped. “He has to actually say he’s concerned.” Left with no choice, I steeled myself and typed back: [Just scratch it.] [Weird, it still itches.] [Maybe I need your hand to scratch it for me. (blushing emoji)] I took a deep breath. A glance at the giant screen showed the live comments going absolutely wild. [OMG! Is this something I should be watching?!] [This “Sweet Tummy 185” knows how to play the game.] [Watching a celebrity get hit on live is killing me LOL.] [So this is what a star’s private life is like! I can’t even imagine what happens behind closed doors…] The comments were spiraling. Panicked that he might say something even more explicit, I quickly typed: [I’m on a live broadcast.] Sweet Tummy 185: *[…] * [Damn, it won’t delete. So annoying!] [Everyone in the live stream, you’re not allowed to look!] [OMG, so embarrassing, Kira, quick, cover me up, don’t let them see me!] The screen filled with “LMAO,” and the ridiculous episode finally came to an end. I’d expected to trend, but seeing it happen still made my cheeks burn with a humiliation so intense it felt like I’d been stripped naked in a crowd. I tossed my phone aside and escaped into the shower. When I came out, my phone pinged. I glanced over. It was from my sworn enemy, Peter Gu, who was supposed to be on a business trip overseas. It was a mirror selfie of his own impressive abs. Compared to Sweet Tummy’s, Peter’s physique had a raw, powerful energy. A single vein traced a path down his torso, making it almost indecent to stare. I was about to type a question mark when his message came through. [Oops, my hand slipped.] I rolled my eyes. What a pathetic excuse. I wasn’t buying it for a second. I left my phone on the chat screen, curious to see what game he was playing. Three seconds later, another message. [Did you see it? It’s a picture of my abs.] [They’re mine, not someone else’s.] [Hello? You there?] [Forget it, I’ll just delete it. Good thing you didn’t see.] [Damn, it won’t delete. So annoying!] [You’re not allowed to look!] [OMG, so embarrassing, don’t you dare look!] [Did you hear me?! I said DON’T LOOK!] “…” The déjà vu was so strong it was nauseating. A surge of anger washed over me, and I dialed his number. “Peter Gu, are you insane?” 2 His laughter on the other end was carefree and loud. “Did you really just message me to make fun of me?” I fumed. “I wouldn’t dare.” He was still chuckling. “But seriously, who is that kid? Doesn’t he have any sense? Sending you a picture like that when he knows you’re live on air.” “Huh?” I paused. “I don’t think he knew.” “Even I knew you were going to be on that show, and I’m halfway across the world. How could he not know?” Peter scoffed. “Use your brain, Kira.” “…” “Idiot.” “Whatever. He’s not that great anyway,” Peter continued, his tone dismissive. “You can tell just from his abs he’s all show and no go. All oiled up and preening. When did you get into that type?” I bristled at the insult to my taste. “Oh yeah? And what type should I be into? Yours?” “My type is great,” he said, completely shameless. “Great in what way?” There was a beat of silence, and then his voice dropped, low and suggestive. “You’ll know once you’ve tried it.” “Not interested!” I shot back. “I’d try ‘Sweet Tummy 185’ a hundred times before I ever tried you.” I hung up before he could respond. I thought the whole thing would blow over, a funny meme for fans and the public to laugh at for a day or two. I did not expect it to result in my parents setting up an arranged marriage for me. Their reasoning was that the entertainment industry was a cesspool of moral decay, and even a “pure, innocent girl” like me was being corrupted. It was better to lock me down with someone from a good, familiar family. I refused, stubbornly. But then my father delivered the final blow: “Then you can quit showbiz altogether. Come home, and stop embarrassing the family.” “…” And just like that, I was being pushed into an arranged marriage. On the way to the restaurant to meet my potential fiancé, I couldn’t resist venting to Peter. [You’re not going to believe this, I’m being set up!] [And it’s all because of that Sweet Tummy guy from yesterday!] [My parents think I’m being ‘corrupted’ and are forcing me to marry someone ‘we know.’ But who do we even know?] [Please don’t let it be Brandon Zhou.] […Oh God! I mean, I had a crush on him in high school, but that was ages ago!] [Oh no, I just saw Ethan Cheng’s latest post. He’s also being set up. He’s not hinting at me, is he?] I texted Peter a running commentary of my panic, speculating about every eligible guy in our social circle. I didn’t know who my suitor was, but I knew I didn’t want to marry any of them. I sat in the restaurant, waiting. Seven o’clock came and went. He was late. I was about to leave when the waiter stopped me. “Miss Jiang, please wait a little longer. The gentleman will be here shortly.” “And who is ‘the gentleman’?” The waiter just smiled politely and retreated. I picked up my phone to text Peter again. [Ugh, what kind of guy is late to his own arranged marriage meeting? I’d rather die than marry him!] The words had barely left my thumbs when the door to the private room opened. Peter Gu walked in, phone in hand. He wore a dark trench coat over a crisp shirt and trousers that made his legs look impossibly long. His tie was slightly loosened, and his hair was artfully messy. He saw me and a slow smile spread across his face. “Sorry, traffic was a nightmare. I got here as fast as I could.” My jaw dropped. “Aren’t you supposed to be overseas?” He raised an eyebrow. “My parents insisted on an arranged marriage. Of course I had to come back.” He stopped by the table, his thumb swiping up his phone screen. He read through my entire stream of frantic texts, then looked up at me. “So, you’re not happy with any of them. What about me?” “You have to ask?” He let out a low chuckle. “I’ll take that as a yes. We’ll get the marriage license tomorrow.” “?” 3 “Are you out of your mind?” I hissed. “Which part of that sounded like a ‘yes’ to you? I’m least happy with you!” “Hmm?” Peter sat down across from me, looking genuinely curious. “What’s not to like?” “Everything!” He just smiled. “Well, I’m quite happy with you.” I stared at him, frowning. Had he been possessed by an alien? This was not the Peter I knew. The sun must be rising in the west. Why wasn’t he arguing with me? He beckoned me closer with a flick of his finger. Reluctantly, I leaned in. His voice, clean and crisp, whispered in my ear. “Before you, my parents had another candidate lined up for me.” “Who?” “Tiffany Tang.” My heart gave a strange little squeeze. “Tiffany’s been in love with you for years. Wouldn’t that have been perfect?” “Of course not,” he said, as if it were obvious. “She likes me. Marrying her would be doing her a favor.” He poured himself a glass of water, his movements unhurried. “An arranged marriage should be with someone you have no feelings for. Someone you mutually dislike, even. It’s a business transaction. You can’t mix business with pleasure, can you?” He pushed the glass of water across the table to me. “Right?” By that logic, he and I were the perfect match. The thought flashed through my mind and was just as quickly dismissed. What was I even thinking? “I’m not going to marry you,” I stated firmly. Peter was unperturbed. “Fine. Then marry Brandon Zhou. He’s a good guy. And you had a crush on him in high school. So what if he rejected you? Your first love becomes your husband. It’s a win-win for—” “Stop!” I couldn’t listen to another word. My pride was a fragile, precious thing. Ever since Brandon had turned me down, my crush had curdled into something akin to embarrassment. The memory was now a dark spot on my history. Marrying him was out of the question. Peter smiled. “Alright, then. Ethan Cheng it is. He’s a bit of a player, but otherwise, he’s—” “Are all the other men on earth dead?” I snapped. “Sweet Tummy 185?” he feigned surprise. “I don’t think your parents would approve.” “…” Forget my parents. I wouldn’t approve. Peter took a slow sip of water. “So, when you look at all the options, I’m the best one, right?” “Best in what way?” “I’ll give you freedom,” he said, his eyes meeting mine. “You want to look at handsome guys, go ahead. You want to stay in the entertainment industry, be my guest. You want to try extreme sports, go for it. I won’t interfere.” He laid his cards on the table, then rubbed his temples as if exhausted. “After all, I’m just getting married for some peace and quiet.” “Isn’t Tiffany quiet?” “She’s been obsessed with me for years. If we got married, she’d manage my life down to the last second. Where’s the peace in that?” I was silent, my resolve beginning to waver. Freedom. It was something I craved more than anything. As an only child, I’d been suffocated by my family’s overprotective nature. No dangerous sports, no staying out late. Even my career in showbiz was something I’d had to fight tooth and nail for. I desperately wanted to know what it felt like to be untethered. “You really wouldn’t interfere?” I asked, searching his eyes for any hint of a lie. “I’m so busy I barely have time to go home,” he said. “How would I have time to manage you?” I thought about his insane, globe-trotting schedule, and suddenly, the idea of marrying him didn’t seem so bad. Marrying a man who was never home… what was the difference between that and being single? “So?” Peter prompted. “Want to give me a try?” I hesitated for a few seconds, then a thrill of rebellion shot through me. “I’m in.”

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The day my husband was diagnosed with end-stage renal failure, I walked out of my office, told my boss I was taking an indefinite leave, and dedicated my life to the antiseptic-smelling halls of Saint Jude’s Hospital. My world had shrunk to the size of his hospital bed. Until one afternoon, when the weight of it all finally crushed me. I ducked into a concrete stairwell, the heavy fire door sighing shut behind me, and let the sobs I’d been swallowing for weeks rack my body. That’s when I heard their voices from the landing below. His voice, and the voice of another woman. “Are you sure that bitch has no idea you’re faking it?” the woman’s voice was a low, conspiratorial murmur. “She watches you like a warden. We can’t even get a minute alone. The baby’s starting to miss his daddy, you know.” And then, his voice. My husband’s voice. The one that whispered my name in the dark. “Relax. She’s an idiot. You could walk in there, tell her to her face this is all an act, and she wouldn’t believe you.” A low chuckle. “Right now, she’s probably calling her mom, getting ready to sell their house to raise the money for me. The second that three hundred grand hits our account, I’m divorcing her. Then it’s just you, me, and the baby. You know you’re the only one for me. Just hang in there a little longer.” My nails dug so deep into my palms that I should have bled, but I felt nothing. When I walked back into the room, I arranged my face into a mask of weary devotion and played my part. On the day of the surgery, however, he was the one on his knees, weeping in front of me. 1 I was floating in a fog of exhaustion when I got back to the room. Mark wasn’t there. I stood blinking in the pale afternoon light until the door clicked open and he walked in. He immediately wrapped his arms around me, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. His voice was thick with a carefully crafted sympathy. “Anna, sweetheart. I can’t stand seeing you like this. So run down. I know you’re trying to pull the money together, but you can’t destroy yourself doing it. Maybe we should just hire a private nurse? You’ve lost so much weight this week.” I said nothing, keeping my head bowed so he couldn’t see the hollowness in my eyes. He took my silence as an invitation, pulling me tighter against his thin hospital gown. As if he couldn’t bear the thought of losing me. If I hadn’t heard that conversation with my own ears, I would have gone to my grave believing this man, my husband of five years, was my devoted partner. The depth of his deceit was a canyon at my feet. I shifted, avoiding another kiss, and buried my face in his chest. “It’s my duty,” I murmured into the fabric. “You’re my husband. You worked so hard for us, for our home, for five years. That’s why you got sick. I’d sell the shirt off my back to make you well.” I pulled back just enough to look at him, my eyes shimmering. “We’re still short on the surgery fee, so a nurse is out of the question. Every penny counts. I don’t mind being tired… I just don’t want to have any regrets. If something were to happen to you…” Two perfectly formed, treacherous tears slid down my cheeks. It worked. His face crumpled with what looked like pain. “Don’t say that. Don’t even think it,” he whispered, crushing me to him again. “Having a wife like you… God won’t be cruel to us. We have so many good years left. After I get better, we’ll have a baby. Everything is going to be okay.” We were tangled in this pathetic embrace when the door swung open again. It was Jess, clipboard in hand. “Whoa, guys, get a room! Some of us are trying to work here,” she teased, a broad smile on her face. “My shift is hard enough without having to watch all this PDA. Save it for when he’s discharged.” Jess is my best friend. My maid of honor. She is also Mark’s attending physician. From the day he was admitted, Jess had used her position to ensure he got the best of everything, all for my sake. She’d even pulled strings, calling in a favor with the top surgeon in the state to have him lead the operation. Mark’s cheeks flushed a little, and he loosened his grip. I saw it then—a flicker of a glance between them. Swift, silent, and full of meaning. I pretended not to notice, stepping away to pour them both a glass of water from the pitcher on the nightstand. Jess did her routine checks, murmuring that Mark’s condition was stable, but she never offered specifics about his labs or his prognosis. Odd, for a doctor who was also my best friend. I’d spent hours online, poring over medical journals and patient forums. The symptoms of uremia—the swelling, the nausea, the constant fatigue—Mark had none of them. A chill snaked up my spine. One second Jess was saying he was stable, and the next she was sighing dramatically, her face a mask of concern. “You two have been through so much to get here. It’s just so unfair…” She looked at me, her eyes soft with pity. “How’s the fundraising going? You know the hospital has its policies, I can’t bend the rules too much. But if you’re short, just tell me. I’ll figure something out.” A slow smile spread across Mark’s face. He reached for my hand, his grip proprietary. “Don’t you worry, Jess. I have the best wife in the world. She’ll get the money for me.” He squeezed my hand, turning his gaze on me. “Right, honey?” I felt their eyes on me, twin lasers of inquiry. I smiled back, a bright, brittle thing. “Of course. I’ve already got a realtor working on selling the condo. It should be quick.” I added another detail for good measure. “And my mom managed to borrow from some relatives. She has fifty thousand for us.” The relief that washed over both their faces was instantaneous and profound. 2 “Oh, that’s fantastic news,” Jess breathed out. “That’s great. The surgery is in three days, so we need to move fast. Everything else is in place. We’re just waiting on you.” If this were yesterday, I would have thought she was sharing my burden, my best friend worried sick for me. We’d been like sisters since kindergarten. But now, having heard the truth, I understood. The “everything else” she was talking about wasn’t medical preparation. It was their plan. Watching them chat, so casual and relaxed, with no trace of the anxiety that should precede a life-or-death operation, I saw my opening. “Jess,” I began, my voice wavering just enough. “I’ll have to be gone for most of the next two days, dealing with the closing paperwork for the condo. Mark… could you please keep an extra eye on him? You know I can’t afford a private nurse, and I don’t know anyone else here.” Before the words were fully out of my mouth, she was nodding eagerly. Her eyes flashed with a joy she couldn’t quite conceal. “Of course, Anna, don’t even worry about it. Mark is your husband, which makes him my brother-in-law. I’ll check on him every half hour. And I’ll tell the floor nurses to be extra attentive. You go do what you have to do. Call me anytime if you need anything.” I feigned overwhelming gratitude, bowing my head and thanking her profusely. Then I turned and walked out of the room. I didn’t go far. I slipped into the shadows of a recessed doorway down the hall. Ten minutes later, I crept back, my sneakers silent on the linoleum. As I neared the door, I heard it. The low, unmistakable sounds of desperate, hurried passion. “That idiot really bought it,” Mark’s voice, rough with arousal. “We were just complaining about not having time alone, and she walks right out. It’s like the universe is on our side.” “Mmm, Jess, I’ve missed you so much… I’m dying for you. We could… right here in the hospital…” “Mark, you’re awful,” she giggled, but there was no protest in her tone. “Gently, okay? Don’t let a nurse walk in. And be careful of the baby… he can’t take too much of a rough ride.” The wet, sloppy sounds of their mouths meeting echoed through the thin wood of the door. My own body threatened to fold. I fled, my retreat a clumsy, stumbling disaster. I made my way to the nurses’ station. I found the one Jess was always complaining about, a stern, older woman named Brenda who, I now suspected, was probably just a person of integrity. Under the guise of a worried wife, I asked her if she could pay special attention to my husband while I was away. I told her I had a bad feeling. She agreed immediately. But when I tried to slip her a folded hundred-dollar bill, she pushed my hand away gently. “Not necessary, dear. I’ll keep an eye on him.” I got her number and, armed with a copy of Mark’s medical file that I’d requested earlier, I left the hospital. Their plan was meticulous. But they’d missed one crucial detail. Mark wasn’t faking his illness. He was genuinely sick. Just not with kidney failure. It was stage four liver cancer. I’d been hiding the truth from him, terrified the diagnosis would shatter what little hope he had left. My plan had been to tell the lead surgeon right before the procedure, to have them re-evaluate everything. But after what I’d seen today, I’d decided on a different course of action. I was going to help him on his way. I called the realtor and told her to accept the first lowball cash offer we received. With the power of attorney Mark had signed over to me, his signature wasn’t needed. I signed the contract on the spot. As soon as the wire transfer cleared, I moved every last cent from our joint accounts, plus the money from the sale, into my mother’s name under the designation of “filial support.” Her phone showed a balance of over three hundred thousand dollars. A moment later, she called me, her voice frantic. “Anna, honey, was this a mistake? Mark has his surgery coming up! Why did you send all this money to me?” “I’m sending it back right now, you need to pay the hospital. His condition… you can’t delay this!” My mother is a good woman. Kind, trusting, and completely fooled by Mark for the last five years. I told her everything. The affair. The fake illness. The plan to fleece me and my family. There was a long, heavy silence on the other end of the line. Finally, she sighed, a sound brittle with disappointment. “That boy… I never would have… well. What you kids do is your own business.” Her voice firmed up. “You leave the money with me. It’s safe here. When you’ve dealt with the divorce, I’ll transfer it right back to you.” She spent another ten minutes calming me down before we hung up. I looked up at the sky. It was a brilliant, cloudless blue, but all I could feel was a suffocating gloom. This marriage was over. 3 I called my lawyer and had him draw up divorce papers. With no shared assets left, the division was simple. By the time I was done, night had fallen. A stream of messages had come in from Brenda, the nurse. Jess had been in Mark’s room almost constantly. They were keeping their voices low. A few times when Brenda had entered to check his vitals, they’d both jumped, looking flustered. I smiled grimly and texted her my thanks. For the next two days, with me absent, they grew bolder. Jess would stroll into his room, her white doctor’s coat barely concealing a black lace teddy. She’d stay for hours. Once, Brenda noted, she came out looking flushed, her legs unsteady. The nurse saw what was happening. She texted me several times, gently suggesting I should come back to the hospital. I politely declined each time. It wasn’t time to show my hand. I wasn’t idle. I hired a private investigator to dig up every wire transfer, every gift, every hotel stay Mark had ever paid for on Jess’s behalf. Evidence for the lawsuit to come. On the morning of the surgery, the hospital’s finance department noted the bill was still unpaid. That’s when Mark’s composure finally cracked. My phone blew up. “Anna, where are you? The surgery is this afternoon. Did you get the money?” “Why aren’t you answering? Is there a problem with the sale? Don’t try to handle it all alone, I’m here for you. If it doesn’t work out, then we just forget the surgery. My life isn’t worth you suffering like this.” “When I’m gone, find a good man and remarry. I won’t blame you.” I stared at the screen, a fresh wave of cold fury washing over me. A masterclass in manipulation. This wasn’t a man preparing for his death; this was a con artist afraid his mark was about to walk away. Jess was less composed. She called, again and again. Each time with a new, frantic story. Mark was coughing up blood. Mark had slipped into a coma. The hospital had issued three separate critical condition alerts, all of which she had heroically intercepted on my behalf. I answered the last call, my voice calm. “I’m on my way.” I heard her exhale in relief. And just before she hung up, I heard Mark’s triumphant laugh in the background. Laugh all you want, I thought. After today, you won’t have the strength to cry. The private investigator had found more than just financial records. He’d delivered an unexpected little bonus. When I arrived at the hospital, Mark’s mother was already there, holding court with a flock of relatives outside his room. The moment they saw me, they swarmed. “Anna, you poor thing, you’ve been through so much,” his mother gushed, grabbing my hands. “I only just heard Mark was in the hospital! Thank you, thank you for not abandoning him. Having a daughter-in-law like you is the greatest blessing our family could ask for…” Jess pushed through the crowd, her face a perfect portrait of anxious urgency. “You’re finally here! The doctors are saying if we wait any longer, it’ll be too late! Thank god you made it. Go pay the fee, quickly! I’ll get the surgical team prepped right now!” Mark’s mother shot Jess a subtle glance. When she turned back to me, her eyes were instantly red-rimmed and brimming with tears. She grabbed my arm and began pulling me toward the billing office. “Let’s go, hurry. Mark is waiting.” The look that passed between her and Jess confirmed it. She was in on it, too. Of course. It explained why she’d been conveniently absent until the very day the money was due. I always thought Mark was just trying to spare her the worry. Now I saw it clearly. The three of them were a pack of wolves, and my mother and I were the prey they intended to devour. Surrounded by the expectant faces of his family, I stopped in my tracks. I pulled my arm free and held up my empty hands. “What surgery fee?” I said, my voice clear and steady. “I couldn’t get it. I don’t have any money.” 4 His mother’s face transformed. The grief vanished, replaced by sheer disbelief. “What?” her voice screeched, echoing down the sterile corridor. “You don’t have any money? Anna, what kind of joke is this?” “You’ve been gone for three days selling the condo! My son gave you power of attorney! We paid over two hundred thousand for that place, how can you have no money?” The relatives, sensing a shift, closed in. “That’s right, that condo was in the city’s hottest neighborhood! Even if you didn’t get two hundred, you must have gotten one-eighty, one-ninety! How can you say you have nothing?” “He’s your husband, Anna! What are you hiding from him? He needs that money to live!” “Don’t forget the fifty thousand dollars your family gave as a wedding gift! Even if the condo sale fell through, you should have that!” The mention of the wedding gift hardened my expression. “A gift that was supposed to be for our future, you mean? The gift he ‘borrowed’ fifteen thousand from a month after we were married because he said his mom was sick? That, plus his expenses these past few weeks, is long gone.” “My family paid the lion’s share of the down payment on that condo. What are you all implying? That I’m lying?” I let my voice rise, matching their outrage. “I told you, there’s no money! If you can’t pay for the surgery, then it doesn’t happen. Maybe it’s just his fate to die!” The words were barely out of my mouth before his mother lunged, the flat of her hand cracking against my cheek. “You bitch! How dare you say that? It’s a son’s duty to care for his mother!” “Are you blaming me for getting sick? Or blaming him for helping me? For a married couple, you certainly keep close track of your money! Fine, I’ll write you an IOU! I’ll pay you back!” she shrieked. “Now stop this nonsense! My son is dying!” My cheek stung, a hot bloom of pain, but my heart felt like a block of ice. “Nonsense? Think whatever you want. I told you, I don’t have the money. I just came today to say my goodbyes.” Her eyes darted around, and then she did something theatrical. She threw herself onto the floor, slapping her thighs and wailing at the ceiling. “Oh, the injustice! God in heaven, everyone come and see! My daughter-in-law is letting my son die! She won’t pay for his surgery! She’s just going to watch him die!” “My poor family! How did we end up with such a venomous woman! Somebody, please, tell me what’s right! My son is on his deathbed and she’s murdering him!” “If my son dies, I’ll die with him! What has this world come to? Once money is in a wife’s pocket, you can’t get it back! Everyone look! Look at this heartless monster!” Her performance was flawless. Passersby stopped to stare. Hearing her version of events, they turned on me, their faces etched with disapproval. “Young lady, how can you be so obsessed with money? That’s your husband in there! You can’t buy health! You’ll regret this for the rest of your life!” “You look like such a nice girl, but your heart is so ugly. Is a surgery fee really more important than a human life? God is watching. You have to live with your conscience!” “Exactly! Look at your poor mother-in-law, she’s a wreck! Do you want her to have a heart attack right here in the hospital? We just heard them say it! You can save his life by selling your place. We don’t have that kind of money, but you do! To have the money and not use it… you’re no better than an animal!” One of the aunts whispered something in the mother’s ear. In a flash, she was on her feet, launching herself at me and kicking me hard in the shin. “You liar! You already sold the condo! Where is the money? Half of that belongs to my son! You have no right to take it all!” Her words were gasoline on the fire. The crowd’s murmurs turned into a roar of condemnation. Through it all, my expression remained eerily calm. “The money? I wired it to my mother. My cousin is getting married and needs a down payment for a house, so I loaned it to him. In any case, I don’t have it.” Mark’s mother was trembling with rage, her finger jabbing at my face. “She’s lying! Only an idiot would loan that kind of money to a cousin! Hold her down! The money has to be on her!” Rough hands grabbed my arms and legs, pinning me to the floor. His mother began frantically patting me down, her hands like spiders all over my body. She found my debit card in my pocket. She thrust it at a billing clerk who had come to see what the commotion was about. “Try this!” The clerk swiped it. Once. Twice. The machine beeped. Insufficient funds. In an instant, I was drowning in a sea of insults. The dark lenses of cell phone cameras were pointed at my face, broadcasting my humiliation to the world. Jess finally arrived, pushing through the crowd. She saw the scene and her eyes went wide with alarm. She knelt beside me, her voice a stage-whisper of urgent persuasion. “Anna, Mark is fading. You told me you were selling the condo these past three days. You haven’t spoken to your cousin in two years, you wouldn’t lend him money. Where is it? Are you really going to stand by and watch Mark die?” Before I could even get to my feet, a nurse rushed over, her face pale. “It’s bad! Mr. Evans also has late-stage liver cancer! The surgeons just discovered it during the pre-op scan! The original surgical plan is useless!” Jess’s face didn’t change. The nurse, seeing her confusion, added pointedly, “This time, for real.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “385041”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I was born lucky. A psychic told my adoptive parents my fate was tied to great wealth, so at three, I was taken from the orphanage and delivered to the Hendrie family. Back then, the Hendries were just entering high society. They treated me as their lucky charm, spoiling me endlessly—and over the next fifteen years, their fortune soared, making them one of New York’s most powerful families. Raised as their charm, I grew fearless and sharp-tongued, with a famously bad attitude. Then my biological parents, the Vances, found me. They were minorly rich compared to the Hendries, but hey—free inheritance. I reluctantly agreed to visit. But when I arrived, no one greeted me. The whole family was crowded around a crying girl—the one who’d taken my place. “Stella, don’t cry,” her mother soothed. “No one can replace you. You’ll always be our most precious daughter.” I rolled my eyes. “God, this is annoying. That whining is worse than nails on a chalkboard.” 1 My words fell into a sudden, dead silence. Every head whipped around to stare at me in disbelief. My biological parents, Mr. and Mrs. Vance, frowned in disapproval, their expressions screaming, This is what you get from the lower classes. No manners. My supposed older brother, Ethan, stormed over to me, his finger jabbing at my face. “Who do you think you are, talking to Stella like that?” he snarled. “Did your dirt-poor family not teach you any respect?” Ha. Dirt-poor? The Hendries could buy and sell the Vances’ entire pathetic fortune in the time it takes to make a phone call. But I couldn’t be bothered to explain that to these people. I let out a cold, dismissive laugh. “No respect? I wonder why that is,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Maybe it’s because she stole the family that was supposed to teach me.” I pointed a finger at Stella. “And the little thief has the audacity to stand there crying? What is this, the classic ‘villain plays the victim’ routine?” Ethan’s bravado crumbled. He was clearly out of his league. His face turned beet red as he stammered, “You! You! You…” I cut him off, bored. “Spit it out. If you have a stutter, go see a doctor. If you’re just stupid, try reading a book. Either way, stop wasting my time.” Defeated, Ethan could only stand there, seething and breathless, his face a mottled purple. Right on cue, Stella drifted over, her face a perfect mask of wronged innocence. “I’m so sorry, sister,” she whispered, her eyes welling up. “It’s all my fault. I’m the one who stole your life. You have every right to be angry. Please, don’t blame Mom, Dad, or Ethan. Take it all out on me.” Ugh. The classic damsel-in-distress act. Zero originality. I had no intention of playing along with her little performance. I stood up straight. “Look, I’m tired. Just have someone show me to my room. You all can continue your little melodrama without me. I don’t have time for this.” Mr. Vance let out an indignant huff, but he still motioned for the butler to show me to a room. The butler gave me a tour. Before I could even say a word, Stella started her act again. “Sister, you should take my room,” she declared, pushing her bedroom door open with a grand, magnanimous gesture. “It should have been yours all along.” The moment the door opened, Ethan had another fit. He lunged forward to block the entrance, his face etched with pain as he looked at Stella. “Stella, don’t do this to yourself,” he pleaded. “She’s a charity case from the sticks. A storage closet would be too good for her. She has no right to take your room!” Mrs. Vance, to her credit, had a sliver of conscience left. She shot Ethan a soft glare before turning to me. “Selene, you can choose any of the other rooms in the house,” she said gently. “But Stella is used to this one. Please don’t fight her for it, alright?” I was honestly speechless. Had I said a single word about wanting Stella’s room? Why was everyone acting like I was the villain here? Was this room really that special? My gaze drifted past Ethan’s obstructive frame to peek inside. Two words came to mind: That’s it? My dog Lucas’s room back at the Hendrie estate was bigger than this. I rolled my eyes and walked away, pointing to a much larger room down the hall with better light and a better view. “I’ll take this one.” Ethan stared at me, his voice cracking. “Are you insane? That’s Mom and Dad’s room!” I strolled in anyway, then turned to Mr. and Mrs. Vance with a bright smile. “Mother just said I could pick any room as long as it wasn’t Stella’s. You’re not going to go back on your word, are you?” Mrs. Vance was clearly flustered, but she eventually nodded. “Great. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to rest. Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.” With that, I slammed the door shut, leaving the entire dumbfounded Vance family standing in the hallway. 2 Finally, some peace and quiet. I snapped a picture of the room and sent it to Ben Prescott. [My life is so hard. I’m living in a place worse than Lucas’s doghouse.] Ben was my boyfriend. Or, more accurately, my fiancé. In the elite circles of New York, few families were considered equals to the Hendries. The Prescotts were one of them. [Come home, baby. The Vances’ entire net worth wouldn’t even cover your handbag budget.] [If you’re short on cash, I’ll have my assistant transfer some more company shares to you.] They say a man head-over-heels in love is the best kind of man to marry. Ben was living proof. As the current head of the Prescott empire, he was known for his ruthless, decisive nature in the boardroom. But with me, he was endlessly indulgent. I smiled and texted back: [I want your shares. And I want the Vance family fortune too.] The second I hit send, my door swung open. It was Stella. The meek, gentle facade was gone, replaced by a look of smug superiority. She tossed an invitation at me, her voice dripping with condescension. “This is for the Prescotts’ birthday gala. Mom and Dad said I have to bring you,” she announced. “But a country bumpkin like you has probably never even heard of the Prescotts. You’ll just embarrass yourself if you go.” I picked it up. It was an invitation for Nathan Prescott’s birthday. Nathan was the younger Prescott son, and the polar opposite of his brother. While Ben was a poised and powerful leader, Nathan was a reckless, hedonistic playboy. The moment he was in the same room as Ben, he turned into a mouse cornered by a cat. Seeing my silence, Stella continued her gloating. “The Prescotts are top-tier New York high society. Not just anyone can get close to them. But I’m Nathan’s girlfriend, so of course, I got an invitation.” Girlfriend? I’d never heard about Nathan having a girlfriend. He had an endless parade of bedmates, but never a girlfriend. “I know you’re probably desperate for a glimpse into the world of the elite,” she sneered. “But you don’t belong. I won’t have a low-class nobody like you dragging me down.” With that, she snatched the invitation back from my hand and ripped it into tiny pieces. A malicious smile played on her lips as she tossed the paper confetti into the air. The next second, she threw herself onto the floor and began to wail. “Sister! I know you’re angry, but you can’t just rip up my invitation!” I had to hand it to her. The girl was committed to the drama. Her first order of business should be to delete TikTok and stop reading those trashy long-lost-heiress novels. She was becoming a caricature. As she predicted, her cries brought Mr. and Mrs. Vance and Ethan running. They huddled around her, their faces etched with concern. Stella squeezed out a few more tears. “Mom, Dad, Ethan, don’t blame her,” she choked out. “It was my fault. She didn’t mean to push me. She just… she wanted to go to the Prescott gala by herself, so she destroyed my invitation.” Ethan, ever the loyal idiot, immediately turned on me. “You are shameless! We wouldn’t even have an invitation if it weren’t for Stella! She’s Nathan Prescott’s girlfriend! You wanted to go alone so you could move in on her boyfriend, didn’t you?” Hahahahaha. If I tried to seduce Nathan, Ben would probably break all three of his legs. Seeing that I wasn’t defending myself, Mr. Vance assumed I was guilty. “Your mother and I wanted to give you a chance to see how the other half lives, and this is how you repay us?” he said sternly. “How dare you destroy a Prescott invitation and attack your sister! Butler! Time for some family discipline!” A moment later, the butler walked in holding a long, thin whip. 3 The second he swung the whip, I caught it mid-air. I yanked it from his grasp and drove my foot into his knee. He yelped and crumpled to the floor, kneeling before me. I pointed the whip at a small camera I’d placed on the bookshelf. “You probably didn’t notice, but I installed a little security camera when I first came in,” I said with a sweet smile. “I didn’t expect to use it so soon. Why don’t we all watch and see who really ripped up the invitation?” As the video played, Stella’s face grew paler and paler. The rest of the family’s expressions shifted from anger to confusion to awkwardness. Realizing she was caught, Stella dropped to her knees and clutched my legs, putting on a show of profound shame. “I’m so sorry, sister! I was just so scared of losing Mom, Dad, and Ethan. I was terrified they’d abandon me once you came back. It was a moment of weakness! Please, sister, hit me! Punish me! I’ll do anything if you’ll just forgive me!” Tears streamed down her face, and I could see the Vances’ resolve beginning to soften. But I wasn’t a Vance. I grabbed a glass water tumbler from the nightstand and smashed it over her head. The glass shattered. Blood immediately began to trickle from a gash on her forehead. “You’re the one who asked me to hit you,” I said calmly. “I’ve been alive for over twenty years, and I have to say, that’s a new one. But since you insisted, I’m happy to oblige.” Stella was stunned into silence. She stared blankly for a full five seconds before letting out a piercing shriek. The rest of them snapped out of their stupor. Ethan scooped her into his arms and bolted for the door, yelling, “To the hospital! We need to get her to a hospital!” Mr. Vance glared at me, his face contorted with rage. “How could you be so violent? What if you scarred her face? How is she supposed to attend the Prescott gala now?” Ah. So that’s what this was about. He wasn’t worried about Stella; he was worried about losing his connection to the Prescotts. So much for all that unconditional love. “What’s the matter?” I asked, my voice light. “Worried your plan to sell your daughter to a rich family will fail if she’s got a scar?” My words hit their mark. His face flushed a deep red. “Insolence!” he roared. “You will stay here and reflect on what you’ve done! You are forbidden from attending the Prescott gala!” I just laughed as he and Mrs. Vance stormed out. An empty threat from a powerless man. I had received my invitation to the Prescott gala ages ago. Ben had delivered it himself, begging me to come. “Selene, I want to announce our wedding date that night.” The thought still made me laugh. “Ben, are you serious? It’s your brother’s birthday party. You’re going to announce our wedding? That’s kind of stealing his thunder, don’t you think?” “It would be an honor for him,” Ben had replied, completely serious. “Besides, I don’t care. There are too many vultures circling you. I can’t wait any longer. I want the entire world to know that you are my wife.” 4 On the night of the gala, the Vances left early. I slipped back to the Hendrie estate, changed into the custom gown and jewels Ben had prepared for me, and made my own, leisurely way to the party. When I entered the ballroom, I saw Stella surrounded by a flock of sycophantic girls. “Oh, Stella, that sapphire necklace is gorgeous! Was it a gift from Nathan?” “I’m so jealous! I heard the Prescotts are announcing an engagement tonight. It has to be you and Nathan, right?” “When you’re Mrs. Prescott, you won’t forget about us little people, will you?” The flattery was clearly going to Stella’s head. Then, someone spotted me—and the necklace around my neck. “Stella! Look! Her necklace is exactly the same as yours!” “But that’s a limited-edition haute couture piece. There’s only one in the world.” Stella’s eyes narrowed as she marched toward me. “How did you sneak in here without an invitation? And why are you wearing a cheap knockoff? You should leave before you embarrass the Vance family any further.” I gave her a bored look. “Who said mine is the knockoff?” Stella laughed, triumphant. “Mine was a gift from Nathan. It’s obviously real. Since there’s only one, yours must be the fake.” Please. Nathan didn’t earn his own money; he lived off an allowance from his brother. With the number of girls he had on the side, there was no way he could afford to gift genuine high-end jewelry to every single one. I smirked. “Yours is from Nathan. Mine is from Ben. You tell me which one is real.” Before Stella could respond, the crowd around us erupted. “What did she just say? Ben Prescott?! No way!” “The head of the Prescott family is a notorious ice king. I’ve never heard of him having a girlfriend.” “She’s obviously lying. How shameless can you be, making up rumors about the crown prince of New York society?” Stella shot me a disdainful look. “You are nothing but a low-class copycat. Get out of here before you make a bigger fool of yourself.” Then, she grabbed my necklace and yanked. It snapped, falling to the floor. She stomped on it with her heel, then leaned in close, her voice a venomous whisper. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to. First, you tried to ruin my face, and now you’re wearing the same necklace to seduce my boyfriend. I won’t let you win.” “Get out!” she shrieked for all to hear. I let out an annoyed sigh and slapped her hard across the face. Twice. “You’re so loud,” I muttered. Stella stumbled and fell to the floor, her eyes wide with disbelief and welling with tears. Just as she was about to launch into another tirade, a new voice cut in. “What’s going on here?” It was Nathan Prescott. Stella immediately grabbed his arm, her face a mask of tearful misery. “Nathan! She said the necklace you gave me is a fake! And then she hit me!” “Who would dare?!” Nathan snapped, his gaze sweeping over to me with an air of authority. I just smiled, a playful glint in my eye, and met his gaze. The moment our eyes locked, the arrogant expression on his face shattered as if he’d been struck by lightning. His voice cracked, rising several octaves in panic. “Sis… Sister-in-law?! What are you doing here?!”

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My mother was the villain of the story, but by the time I was born, the story was already over. The life of champagne brunches and Fifth Avenue sprees was gone, and the debutante who once graced magazine covers had become a social pariah. She’d been betrayed by my father, the hero of the story, and her family’s fortune had vanished overnight. A pampered princess who had never worked a day in her life, she had to learn everything from scratch. For me. 1 The nurses told me later that my mother, Genevieve, didn’t even know she was pregnant. She just thought she was getting fat. The truth hit her the day her family’s bankruptcy was announced. Every credit card was declined, every account frozen. The only cash she had to her name was twenty thousand dollars, tucked away in a savings bond a great-aunt had given her for her sixteenth birthday—a sum she’d once found so laughably small she’d never bothered to touch it. She was staring at that number on her banking app when the first contraction seized her, a pain so sharp it sent her straight to the hospital. And then, there I was. Even then, in the midst of ruin, she insisted on a private VIP suite, refusing to be wheeled into a standard maternity ward. Just like that, her balance lost a zero. She had two thousand dollars left. I arrived without an invitation. The first time she saw me, she just stared, baffled. A child had never been part of her plan, not even when she was deepest in love with my father. She needed too much love herself, the kind of all-consuming love only he could give, and it was meant for her alone. They had made a promise as children, a secret whispered between them. “Ethan’s heart is for Genevieve, and Genevieve alone.” For a long time, it was true. His love was a fortress built only for her. At eighteen, Ethan told her, “I love you. Only you.” He honored that childhood vow, and to everyone who knew them, Ethan belonged to Genevieve. When she grew possessive, their friends would just laugh it off. “The princess guards her treasures,” they’d tease. And at eighteen, Ethan found her possessiveness sweet. It felt like a green apple lollipop, a slow, perfect dissolve in his heart. He’d blush, wave goodbye to his friends, and run straight back to her arms, back to his happiness. But at twenty-four, her possessiveness was a cage. It was like a piece of sour candy that never turned sweet, an acrid lump he couldn’t swallow, filling his mouth with a dull, persistent ache. His friends weren’t teasing anymore; they were mocking him for being whipped. The frantic ring of his phone became a Pavlovian signal, a lead weight dropping in his stomach. When a repressed heart can’t find a door, it breaks open a window. So he started an affair. He knew it was a betrayal, a violation of everything they were, so he hid it. At first, the guilt was a heavy counterweight on the scales, but the stolen moments of joy, the secret thrills, began to pile up until the balance tipped irrevocably. When the lies finally shattered, the explosion was ugly. They screamed, they clawed at each other, turning their pristine Upper East Side apartment into a war zone. They ended it with a vow to never see each other again. They had just finalized their divorce last month. As the story’s villain, my mother’s love was a thing of fierce, paranoid obsession. The slightest dip in my father’s affection sent her spiraling. Three scheduled calls a day. Every outfit he wore, she had to approve. Home by seven p.m., no exceptions. But even with her standing guard, my father slipped through her fingers like a handful of sand, blown into the arms of another woman. It started with small things. A single strand of auburn hair on his blazer, a color that wasn’t hers. A cloyingly sweet perfume clinging to his collar that she didn’t recognize. The first crack appeared when she confronted him, her voice cold. “You smell.” It was a cheap, saccharine scent that made her head ache. To hide his guilt, he stripped off his jacket, feigning indifference. “I was at a department store. Must have brushed past someone.” Then it was a delicate silk scarf the housekeeper found in his coat pocket. A scarf that wasn’t hers. Then came the way he deliberately turned his back to her in bed, the way his eyes would drift away when they hugged. Genevieve couldn’t ignore the signs. She hired a private investigator. The photos arrived in a manila envelope. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. He had cheated on her with the one person she despised most in the world. Maybe it was a villain’s intuition. From the very first time she’d met this woman, a deep, primal dislike had taken root. She was my mother’s opposite in every way. And now, in these glossy photographs, the man everyone saw as the perfect husband—the man who had sworn he loved only her—was holding this woman’s hand in broad daylight, kissing her on a park bench during his lunch hour. They moved together with an ease that spoke of years, not stolen moments. Just a year ago, Ethan had laid in bed with her, whispering about how much they both disliked this woman, how she was a professional victim, a master manipulator. Now, in a twist of cruel irony, that same woman was his lover. The third person in their marriage. My mother, in a desperate attempt to save her marriage, tried to talk to her. The woman refused. The second time, my mother went to her office building, waiting for hours in the lobby. She finally saw her, coming down in the elevator, tucked securely under my father’s arm. The moment Ethan saw my mother, his first instinct was to shield the other woman behind him. The sight was so absurd, Genevieve laughed. A hollow, brittle sound. “Ethan,” she said, her voice dangerously calm. “Aren’t you going to offer an explanation?” He ignored her, whispering something to the girl and sending her away in a cab. Once she was gone, he turned back, trying to take my mother’s hand. He didn’t deny it. He didn’t even try to lie. He just kept repeating, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” over and over, even slapping his own face. Then he sank to his knees on the pavement, begging her not to divorce him. My mother stared at him for a long time before turning and walking back into their building. He expected divorce papers the next morning. Instead, she forgave him. “We can stay married,” she told him, her voice devoid of emotion. “But you have to promise me you will never see her again.” Then the tables turned. The other woman started showing up, trying to confront my mother, who refused to see her. Finally, she came to our apartment, waiting for Ethan. He saw his lover looking so lost and pathetic, and the sight broke his heart. He took her with him when he left. He didn’t come home for a month. When he finally returned, a cold, relentless rain was falling. He pushed open the door, bringing the storm in with him. Genevieve thought he was back for good, that he’d finally realized his mistake. But then he threw a stack of photos at her. The sharp corner of one cut her cheek. The dream shattered. He wasn’t here to reconcile. He was here to condemn her. “God, you’re disgusting, Genevieve,” he spat, his voice dripping with revulsion. “Every day you become more and more pathetic. Just looking at your face makes me sick. How can you be so venomous?” “You knew how important that charity gala was for Isabella. You knew it, and you still had your friends ice her out. Do you have any idea how many sleepless nights she put into organizing that event?” “Are you even human? Can’t you stand to see anyone else succeed?” Genevieve froze. She couldn’t comprehend that the man she had loved her entire life was screaming at her like this, for a stranger. In an instant, a dam of grief and betrayal broke inside her. “Yes! I can’t stand to see her happy!” she shrieked, her voice cracking. “Why should she be? Why does a woman who destroys a family get to have a better life? Why don’t you ask me about my sleepless nights? The nights I spent crying over you? The nights I stayed up helping you build your career?” “What right does she have? Tell me, Ethan, what right does she have?” Her roar dissolved into a desperate, wracking sob. She clawed at her own hair, her body doubling over as if in physical pain. The cold rainwater from his coat dripped down her back, extinguishing the last embers of warmth inside her. Ethan just watched her, his expression cold. He thought, This feels so familiar. There was a time when her tears would have shattered his heart. Now, all he felt was a desperate urge to escape. “Let’s get a divorce,” he said. Her mind went blank. She slapped him, hard, across the face. Ethan was stunned. “A divorce?” she whispered, her voice trembling with rage. “How dare you say that. We’re in this mess because of you.” “I don’t understand. When other couples have problems, they work to fix the problem. But you… you decided to fix the problem by getting rid of me! By cheating on me!” He’d had enough. They had never been good at backing down. He grabbed her arm and dragged her in front of the ornate, full-length mirror in the foyer. “What about you?” he snarled. “Have you taken a good look at yourself lately?” They both stared at the reflection. At the woman in the mirror. Her hair was a wild halo, a thin, red line traced a path down her cheek, and her eyes were red-rimmed and vacant, haunted by a grief and fury that twisted her features. She looked at herself, dazed. She remembered the day they got married, the first time they stood before this very mirror. They were both smiling then. Now, one face was etched with disgust, the other with rage. Suddenly, fighting for the marriage felt meaningless. The love was gone. And she had never been one to settle for a life without it. At the lawyer’s office, she stared at the signed divorce agreement for a long time. The paralegal asked if there was a problem. “After so many years,” she murmured, more to herself than to him, “we should at least say a proper goodbye.” She gathered the papers, stood up, and spoke with a weariness that seemed to settle in her bones. “I hope we never see each other again.” A month later, the news broke. The family fortune was gone. Genevieve was broke. She found out while she was packing up her life. The apartment was co-owned, but there was no reason to stay. When she drove back to her family’s mansion, she found it empty. A hollow shell. She never imagined that in the midst of losing everything, she would gain a child. She had lost her world, but she had been given me. I was like a fast-forward button on the VCR of her life, instantly splicing it into two distinct parts: Before, and After. It was sudden, but she accepted it. She accepted me. Then came the brutal realization that she could barely take care of herself, let alone a newborn. She had no idea a cab from her old penthouse to the hospital cost twelve dollars. She didn’t know that the gourmet meals she used to order on a whim now cost more than she had to her name. She still had the instincts of a rich girl, wanting only the best of everything. She was forced to learn how to survive. Forced to learn how to be a mother. She’d never wanted a child, but she seemed to adore me. She held me constantly, nuzzling her cheek against mine, her fingers gently tracing my tiny hands as she whispered to me. When the nurses cared for me, she would watch from the side, awkwardly trying to mimic their movements. The trashy novels on her phone were replaced with articles on parenting and infant care. More often than not, she’d fall asleep with the phone still in her hand. I loved to watch her sleep. She looked like the climbing roses outside the window, swaying softly in the breeze, peaceful and beautiful. When I slept, she would pat my back gently. She whispered to the nurse one afternoon, asking what kind of formula was best for a small baby like me. The nurse whispered back, “You could try this one. Your baby is so little. She seems like she didn’t get enough nourishment in the womb.” My mother looked at the price tag, then at me, blowing bubbles in my bassinet. Her face was a canvas of conflict. Finally, she gritted her teeth and bought a whole case. After that purchase, her bank account lost another zero. She had two hundred dollars left. I was well cared for at the hospital, but I slept almost constantly. A heaviness in my chest was a constant companion. My mother didn’t notice anything was wrong. She just called me her little pearl, sleeping twenty-four hours a day. Then the nurses ran a full panel of tests. The doctor told her I had a congenital heart defect. It was unlikely I would live to see adulthood. For days after the diagnosis, my mother just held me and cried. She was still recovering from childbirth, and the doctor warned her that the constant crying wasn’t good for her. He asked about the baby’s father. She just wept, unable to answer. Her life had been cleaved in two. The first twenty years were a gilded haze. Then, as if fate had grown tired of her easy life, it had thrown her into motherhood completely unprepared. And as if that wasn’t cruel enough, it twisted the knife. The head nurse was a kind woman who looked at my mother with a mixture of pity and frustration. “What kind of man did this to such a lovely girl?” she’d mutter. “Some things, you just have to let go,” she told my mother, patting her back. “In the face of life and death, most things don’t matter.” They even brought in a therapist to screen her for postpartum depression. The nurse would often sigh when she looked at me. She told my mother later that at first, she’d disliked her, thinking she was a terrible, self-absorbed mother. But then, she pitied her. “She looked like a new bud on a rosebush,” the nurse said. “So fragile that a single storm could knock her from the branch.” She saw women like my mother every year. Maybe it was because I was a quiet, cute baby, but the nurse took a special interest in me. She couldn’t bear the thought of me ending up an orphan. But no amount of pity could pay the mounting medical bills. They were crushing her. She had once fought desperately for a love she couldn’t save, debasing herself, throwing her family’s money at the problem, humiliating herself by throwing a glass of wine on the other woman at a public event. All she had ever wanted, since she was a little girl, was for someone to pick her up when she fell instead of laughing at her. And for her whole life, Ethan was the only one who ever had. Her own parents, exhausted by their miserable marriage, had no energy left for a child. So she grew up spoiled, arrogant, and rude, with no one to guide her. People bowed to her status, her money. Without that armor, she was just what the nurse saw: a fragile bud on a branch, about to be snapped by the wind. She knew this, but she didn’t know how to be any different. She had tried to hold onto the one piece of love she’d ever known with a grip so tight, she’d strangled it. In the end, she was left with nothing. … Taking a deep breath, she started calling the people she once thought were her friends. The calls either went straight to voicemail or were answered with a string of curses. She hesitated for a long time before making the last call. “Hello?” the voice on the other end answered. “Lindsey? It’s me.” “Well, well, if it isn’t Miss Genevieve herself.” The voice was slick with sarcasm. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” “Are you calling to borrow money? How much do you need?” My mother named a figure. Before she could finish, a sharp, ugly laugh cut her off. “You’re the great debutante, aren’t you? A wave of your hand used to be worth millions. Why are you calling a nobody like me for a few thousand dollars?” “I have the money,” Lindsey continued, her voice dripping with malice. “But I have a hard time believing you’ll be able to pay it back. Tell you what. Bark like a dog for me a few times. Maybe if I’m in a good mood, I’ll lend it to you.” Laughter erupted in the background. They weren’t just mocking her; they were making a spectacle of her fall. But this time, my mother didn’t hang up. Her voice was quiet. “Wasn’t I good to you?” The laughter on the other end stopped cold. “Yes, you were good to me,” Lindsey said, her voice turning hard and bitter. “But you owed me. You owed me for being born with everything I’ll never have. For years, I prayed for this day. I dreamed of you losing everything.” “And now that it’s happened, I couldn’t be happier. In fact, my friends and I are celebrating right now. Celebrating that you’ve finally fallen. Welcome to the real world. Welcome to being one of us.” My mother didn’t hear the rest. She let the phone slip from her ear and sat down slowly next to my bassinet, her hand gently stroking my blanket. She thought about the people who used to surround her. Even at her worst, she’d had a court of admirers. Some offered clumsy flattery, others subtle favors. Lindsey had been her favorite. She had seemed different. She cared, she didn’t just enable. She treated everyone as an equal, scorning the arrogance of the rich and the bitterness of the poor. She had prepared notes for my mother before exams, telling her not to cheat. She would give her a cold look when she did something wrong and patiently try to guide her. She had felt like family. But now, without the money and the status, she was just another stranger, another voice in the chorus of mockery and scorn. My mother finally ended the call. From her meager pile of belongings, she took a designer scarf and tossed it in the trash. As the payment reminders from the hospital flooded her phone, she finally dialed the number she’d been avoiding. First, she heard a cacophony of voices, men and women laughing. Then, his voice, familiar and distant. “Hello?” Before, she would have chirped his name, “Ethan!” Now, she could only manage a stilted, formal reply. “Ethan. It’s me.” Her voice was slow, stiff. “Can you… can you lend me some money?” More laughter crackled through the line, then the sound of rustling fabric. “Hey, stop it, hahaha…” His voice came back to the phone. “What did you say?” Just that one sentence, and all her courage evaporated. They had ended things so badly, screamed things at each other they could never take back. Ethan had once been a blazing sun in her world. Even if his light couldn’t reach the darkest corners of her heart, it had offered a fleeting warmth. She didn’t realize that the moment the divorce papers were signed, their entire past would be erased. With no other choice, she turned to the only person she had left: her mother, my grandmother, who lived in the South. My grandmother was Genevieve’s birth mother. She had divorced my grandfather when my mother was eighteen. Years of a miserable marriage had turned her hair white and put her on a steady diet of antidepressants. When my mother was a child, my grandmother lived in a single room in their mansion. She never went out, never spoke, just stared for hours at the white curtains. Once, when my mother was little, she went to see her. She found her trying to swallow a handful of white pills. The pills clogged her throat. The moment she saw my mother, she retched, and the pills scattered across the floor like tiny white seeds. A maid rushed in. “Ma’am, you can’t take so many of these! If you can’t sleep, I’ll warm you some milk. Maybe that will help.” My grandmother just stared blankly at the pills on the floor. After a long moment, she shook her head. My mother walked over and took her hand. She was too young to understand depression; she only knew her mommy was sick. My grandmother didn’t seem to notice her, her gaze fixed on something far away. After that, my mother never opened that door again. Her mother was like a porcelain doll, beautiful and empty. Sometimes she would pause outside the door, but it was always silent inside, as if no one lived there at all. Then, one day shortly after my mother turned eighteen, the door that had been closed for years finally opened. A woman so pale she was almost translucent emerged. It was her mother. A maid followed with her suitcases. She was leaving for good. She didn’t even look at my mother as she walked out. It was as if she had never given birth to her at all. And now, this was the only person she could turn to. Her father and stepmother had fled the country as soon as the bankruptcy hit, leaving her behind. My mother spent the last of her money on a Greyhound bus ticket. She had never been on a bus like this. It was crammed with luggage and trash, making it impossible to move. The seats were worn and the fabric felt greasy.

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My love, on her journey to resurrect me, fell in love with someone else. When I woke up, Seraphina asked me what I wanted. I was about to say I wanted to finally have the wedding we never got to finish. But in that instant, lines of text began to scroll through my vision. **”The FL is so devoted. She became the freaking Celestial Queen and still didn’t forget to resurrect her mortal sidekick.”** **”Seriously, this sidekick has no shame. He just got brought back and he’s already demanding things. Our ML is the one who fought and bled beside her for a million years!”** **”Whatever. He’ll just get taken back to the Celestial Realm, cause a bunch of drama, and get cast aside. That’s when the FL will realize our ML is her true love!”** I considered this. Then I looked at her and said, “I want a separation.” 1 Seraphina froze. She looked almost exactly as she had before I died. Even more beautiful, more radiant. “Rhys,” she said, her voice trembling with disbelief, “are you joking?” **”A toxic, competitive guy like him wants a separation? This makes no sense!”** **”This old man is obviously using a separation to manipulate her. What a tool! I can’t believe the author wrote such a trash character!”** **”Just wait, our ML is about to show up with the kid. Get ready for the sidekick to get put in his place!”** The words floating before my eyes were vile. According to them, I was seeing the live-chat comments for a fantasy romance epic titled *The Celestial Queen’s Rebellious Love*. Seraphina was the female lead, the “FL.” A prodigy of immense talent, aloof and proud. In order to save her “white moonlight” husband—the first love who died shielding her from a divine trial—she embarked on a long, arduous journey to attain godhood. That husband was me. On her journey, she met Kael, the “ML”—the male lead—a roguish half-demon, half-celestial. They were rivals at first, then friends, supporting each other and growing stronger together over the course of nearly a million years. Kael confessed his love for her many times, but Seraphina always refused, holding my memory in her heart. Until one day, facing a trial she couldn’t overcome, she joined with Kael. United their essence. And conceived a child. Twice. The first was a son. She was now pregnant with their daughter. And me? According to the “plot,” after my resurrection, my personality would warp. I would become consumed with jealousy, constantly fighting with Kael for Seraphina’s affection. I would even try to frame him for crimes, leading to a confrontation so stressful that Seraphina would miscarry. Filled with hatred for me, she would finally strike me down during one of my jealous fits. A single blast of crimson light. And I would be annihilated, body and soul. What a joke. 2 “Sera! Rhys must still be dazed from his long sleep. He’s only human, after all. His mortal flesh is weak. Why don’t we let him rest in the Celestial Realm for a while?” A man in flowing green robes descended from the clouds, a miniature version of himself standing beside him. “Mama Sera! Hug!” The little boy, a half-eaten candied fruit in his hand, launched himself at Seraphina. “Kael, you little troublemaker. I thought we agreed no more sweets for Leo while he’s teething.” The moment before, Seraphina had been clutching my hand. Now, she instinctively scooped the boy into her arms. **”There it is! The pet names! ‘Sera’ and ‘Trouble’! Even their son Leo calls her that! The FL is the Celestial Queen and she still lets her man and kid call her silly names. This family is so cute I could die!”** **”Is someone feeling a little… extra right now? I won’t name names.”** **”Our ML is too kind, offering to let the sidekick stay in the heavens! My poor baby doesn’t know what’s coming.”** I bit my lip and tried to get her attention. “Seraphina.” No response. She was too busy flirting with Kael. I said it louder. “Seraphina!” That finally broke the spell. She put the child down and knelt before me on one knee. She pulled a small, ornate box from her robes, a shy expression on her face that I hadn’t seen since we were teenagers. “Rhys, I’m sorry. It’s… it’s been a very long time since anyone has called me that. Let me introduce you. This is Kael, my companion on my journey. When he said your mortal flesh was weak, he wasn’t insulting you. He just meant that the human body is fragile.” She leaned closer, her voice a whisper. “So… tonight, I will personally transfer my essence to you. You’ll become an immortal, just like me. And we’ll never have to be apart again.” I pointed at the man and his son. “You have his child, you carry his baby, and you stand in front of him and tell me *we’ll* never be apart?” As expected, Kael’s eyes welled with tears. The little boy started punching my leg. “You mean man! You made my daddy cry! Say you’re sorry!” **”This sidekick pretending to be the innocent victim. Ugh. It’s okay, Kael baby, don’t cry.”** **”If he wants a separation so badly, he can just leave. Jump through the Sundering Gate and you’re back in the mortal world.”** **”He’s just bluffing. The loser would never give up the luxury of the Celestial Realm and the temptation of eternal life.”** I turned to leave, but Seraphina’s hand shot out, grabbing my arm. At the same time, she grabbed Kael’s, who had also made a move to leave. “Rhys, where are you going?” “To the Sundering Gate. I told you, my wish is to separate from you.” She frowned, completely bewildered. “Just because Kael and I have children? Are you really that petty?” Am I petty? My wife fell in love with another man while she was supposed to be saving me. Am I not allowed to be angry? “Let me go.” I didn’t want to become the monster described in those floating words. Leaving was my only option. And she did let go. She let go of Kael’s hand, stepped behind me, and wrapped her arms around me in a tight embrace. “My only goal on this entire journey was to bring you back,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “Without you, nothing I’ve done has any meaning.” My own eyes started to burn. We were childhood sweethearts. Maybe I should trust the Seraphina I knew. Not these strange, cruel words. 3 “Mama! Daddy doesn’t look so good!” Kael was clutching his stomach, his face pale and contorted in pain. Seraphina immediately let go of me and rushed to his side, channeling her power into him to calm the chaotic energy in his core. Kael sagged against her, wrapping his arms around her waist. She didn’t push him away, simply supporting his weight. “Kael gave me a third of his life force a few days ago to help me nurture the baby,” she explained, not looking at me. “I need to help him stabilize his power. Rhys, I’ll be right back.” He was injured for the sake of their child. She, as the child’s mother, was taking care of him. It made sense. It was logical. But a selfish part of me couldn’t help but think: *If I hadn’t died, we would have had children. We would have been a normal, happy couple.* “Rhys, it’s incredibly difficult for celestials to have children. Kael is just… my partner in this. We are not in love. Don’t overthink it.” My fingernails dug into my palms. I swallowed the resentment and forced myself to say, “Okay.” 4 Seraphina was still worried I’d jump from the Sundering Gate. She had me confined to a lavish palace, guarded by hundreds of celestial soldiers. The servants were forbidden to speak to me. I had no way of finding the Gate. I had no idea how much time was passing. **”Phew, that was close. Good thing the sidekick didn’t do anything stupid. Sera gave birth to a healthy baby girl! The FL says she looks just like she did as a baby!”** **”Has anyone noticed the sidekick looks… older since he’s been locked up?”** **”A day in the heavens is a year on earth. The FL has been with Kael for his ‘post-partum’ recovery for fifteen days. That means the sidekick is a 30-year-old man now.”** Thirty. An old man? Seraphina and Kael were a million years old, and they still looked like they were in their early twenties. I looked in the mirror. Fine lines were beginning to creep around my eyes. My skin was sallow. I was aging. One day, two days, ten days. I started to miss my parents. My family. I never got to see my father’s hair turn grey, or my mother’s face grow old. I never brought honor to our family name. Back then, my entire world revolved around Seraphina. When she needed a sacred vessel forged for her ascension, our family were the only artisans in the region who could do it. But no one believed that she, an orphan everyone considered bad luck, could ever become a god. So I knelt in our ancestral hall. I begged my parents, my elders. I kowtowed until my forehead was bleeding. The only condition they gave was that she marry into our family. On our wedding night, the heavens roared. A divine trial descended. I threw myself in front of her, taking the lightning strike that was meant for her. With my death, she broke through to the next stage of her power, becoming the strongest mortal alive. My parents, my family… how much pain must they have felt, seeing me die? To give up your life for a woman… was it worth it? Back then, I didn’t understand. I thought a young man’s love could conquer anything. I couldn’t just wither away and die here. I had to go home. I owed my family an explanation. 5 “Rhys, are you still angry?” Seraphina’s voice was right behind me. I turned, and there she was, bathed in a holy light, more radiant than ever. And I… I was shriveling up. She wrapped her arms around me, holding me tight. “Rhys, I had a daughter. She looks just like I did when I was born.” **”The Queen’s memory is insane. She remembers what she looked like as a newborn.”** She sighed. “Rhys, will you call me by my full name again? Like you used to?” I tried to pull away, but her grip was like iron. “Do you remember when we were kids?” she murmured. “You used to fight off all the other boys who bullied me. You’d get into wrestling matches with a whole group of them, and you’d come back covered in bruises and mud. But you always won. You’d win all their marbles, and we’d sell them at the market and buy honey cakes until our stomachs hurt, and we’d lie on the flat rocks by the river and watch the moon.” How could I forget? Under that moonlight, a tiny Seraphina had puffed out her chest and proposed to me. “I, Seraphina, will marry Rhys in ten years!” she had declared. “I’ll never change my mind! For my whole life, and all my other lives! I’ll only ever love Rhys! The stars are my witness! And if I break this promise…” She’d paused, scratching her head. I’d been laughing so hard I fell over. “…then I’ll never get to eat honey cakes again!” For a five-year-old girl and a six-year-old boy, there was no imaginable punishment more severe. “Rhys, I’ll give you half of my power. You won’t get old anymore. Please, don’t be angry anymore, okay?” The lights in the room suddenly went out. My robes were being untied. With her power, she had moved us to the bed. I closed my eyes. The chat reappeared. **”Oh no, oh no, the FL is about to get tainted!”** **”My poor ML, all alone with their two kids! Author, can you please stop torturing him!”** **”See? I knew it. The sidekick couldn’t stand getting old. All that talk about leaving and jumping from the Sundering Gate was just an act. So fake.”** A bitter anger welled up inside me. A normal mortal man, cast out of heaven with nothing… how was I supposed to survive in a world teeming with gods and monsters? How was I supposed to find my family, who had likely been reincarnated countless times? If Seraphina was willing to give me her power, why shouldn’t I use it? 6 The next morning, my youth was restored. A strange, powerful energy coiled in my core. Her power. Seraphina was still asleep, her body curled against mine, trapping me. I tried to shift. “Kael… stop it…” she mumbled in her sleep. In the heat of passion, she had told me a thousand times that she loved me, only me. But now, in her most unguarded moment, she was dreaming of him. **”The sidekick should open his eyes and see! Subconsciously, the FL loves our ML the most!”** **”The sidekick was with her for fifteen years. Our Kael was with her for a million. It’s obvious who she truly loves.”** **”The sidekick thought he could die and become her unforgettable first love, then come back and win her heart. Too bad. The one who isn’t loved is the third wheel. This forbidden love is so thrilling!”** **”When is this loser finally going to jump from the Sundering Gate? I can’t take it anymore.”** I shook my head, trying to clear the words, but they wouldn’t go away. So I stopped pretending. “Alright,” I said to the empty room. “If you’re so smart, tell me where the Sundering Gate is.” 7 The chat exploded. They didn’t seem to know I could see them. **”Is he talking to us?”** **”Is the sidekick crazy? Or am I crazy? How can he see the chat?”** **”Sidekick, if you can see this, make a heart shape with your hands.”** A heart shape? What did that mean? I didn’t understand, but I placed my hand over my heart. “Like this?” The chat went silent for a moment. Then the messages came in a flood. **”You guys, type slower! I can’t read anything!”** My head started to throb. **”Wait, so he saw all the mean things we said about him?”** **”So what? We weren’t wrong. He IS a tool.”** **”But he hasn’t actually done anything evil yet.”** **”I wish our ML could see this instead. Why did it have to be the character I hate the most?”** **”Guys, has anyone noticed the next chapter is gone?!”** **”WTF! It’s blank! Someone message the author and ask if it’s a bug!”** **”I thought this was a finished story. I’ve read it a dozen times.”** **”Does this mean… our comments can change the plot?”** **”Don’t get ahead of yourself. He’s just a worthless, villainous side character.”** Side character or not, I am the hero of my own story. And I would use any advantage I could get. “So,” I said again, “are you going to tell me where the Sundering Gate is, or not?” 8 Following the chat’s directions, I slipped out of the palace. Seraphina’s power allowed me to turn invisible, evading the guards. “So this is the Sundering Gate.” I stood before a well that swirled with iridescent, cosmic clouds. Peering through the mist, I thought I could see the faces of my family, long passed. “Mom, Dad, your son has failed you. I’m coming to find you.” Just as I was about to jump, a crimson cord of light wrapped around me, pulling me back. “And where do you think you’re going, Rhys?” Kael stood there, holding a newborn baby, looking weak and pale. “I’m going through the Gate. To leave you two in peace.” I tried to use my new power to break free, but the cord only tightened. “That’s a Celestial Tether,” he said calmly. “The more power you use, the stronger it gets. Are you angry with me, Rhys? If I’ve done something to offend you, I apologize.” And with that, he knelt, his body still weak from giving half of his lifeblood to his newborn child. The chat immediately started gushing with sympathy. **”My poor baby looks even worse than when the sidekick framed him and got him thrown into the Demon Abyss.”** **”I regret telling Rhys where the Gate was. He should have just stayed in his lane and been the evil sidekick.”** **”The ML is apologizing and he didn’t even do anything wrong!”** **”The sidekick is just using us to bully the ML!”** **”Next time he asks for anything, I’m giving him fake directions. Let him get into trouble himself!”** Wow. Their ability to twist reality was impressive. I ignored them and focused on my core, trying to suppress my power so the Tether would loosen. When Seraphina and I had first started our journey, I had been the faster learner. I was always more powerful than her, but I held back, letting her win, to protect her pride. If only I hadn’t died before my own ascension, my power might have rivaled hers by now. Kael must have felt the Tether slacken. His fingers twitched, and he whispered, so low only I could hear, “I won’t let you have her. We’re soulmates. You just need to play your part. Hate me. That’s all you need to do.” A small, almost imperceptible smile touched his lips. Something felt very wrong. In the next instant, the Celestial Tether vanished. Kael collapsed, and the baby, dropped to the stone floor, let out a piercing wail that echoed through the heavens. Seraphina appeared in a flash of light. She took in the scene—the unconscious Kael, the crying baby, me standing over them—and her eyes narrowed into a furious glare. “Kael told me you held a grudge against him, but I didn’t believe him. I told him you weren’t the type to be consumed by jealousy. I told him I have never loved Kael, that my heart has only ever been yours. Why can’t you leave him alone? He was worried you’d be in danger if you went back to the mortal world, so he tried to stop you. And you attacked him to break free!” Her voice shook with rage. “I never knew you could be so cruel. He just gave his essence to our child; he’s incredibly weak. Now he’s bleeding internally. Are you trying to kill him?” She looked at me, her face a mask of cold disappointment. “Resurrecting you was my million-year obsession. Now, my obsession is fulfilled. We are even.” She picked up Kael, her eyes red. “You wanted a separation? Fine. You can have it.” She drew a dagger of pure light and severed a lock of her silvery hair, throwing it at my feet. As she turned to leave, she scoffed. “You have no idea what the mortal world is like now. I bet you’ll be on your knees before one of my statues in three days, begging me to take you back.” I turned my back to her, swallowing the last of my tears. “You’re mistaken, Your Majesty. You and I… we will never meet again.” And I leaped into the swirling clouds below.

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After two years away on a private wellness retreat, I received a selfie from my daughter. She was on a milk delivery truck, dressed in a drab work uniform. “Mom, are you coming home soon? I miss you so much.” My heart softened. My daughter, Lily, was finally growing up, learning the value of starting from the ground up. I was about to type a few words of praise when I looked closer. Her skin was darkened by the sun, and the shirt she wore under the uniform was one I’d bought for her three years ago. It was pilled and worn thin, yet she hadn’t thrown it away. My daughter, the heiress to a billion-dollar fortune, experiencing life? This seemed a bit too real. I zoomed in again. Her shoes were falling apart, a gaping hole at the toe. The more I looked, the more a cold unease crept over me. The next second, I was scrolling through my adopted daughter’s Instagram. It was a highlight reel of male models and supercars. On her wrist, she wore my limited-edition, full-diamond bracelet—one of only a handful in the world. But what truly made my blood run cold was the Rolls-Royce that appeared most frequently in her photos. That was the graduation gift I had bought for Lily. How did it become hers?! … I nearly crushed my phone in my hand. I swiped through photo after photo until I saw it. The locket around Jessica’s neck. My breath caught in my throat. That was our family heirloom. It had been passed down through the Geller family for generations. How could it be hanging around the neck of an outsider? I remembered it perfectly: on Lily’s eighteenth birthday, I had placed it around her neck myself. My hands shaking, I found the number for my daughter’s university and called the registrar’s office, demanding to know about Lily Geller’s academic standing. The woman’s answer almost stopped my heart. “Lily Geller? She dropped out months ago.” Dropped out? My daughter… dropped out? The world tilted on its axis. My head started to buzz. I immediately video-called my husband, Michael. He answered, freshly dressed after a dip in his private hot tub, a towel around his neck. His expression was utterly nonchalant. “It’s just a locket, Amelia. Jessica liked it, so I let her borrow it for a few days. Why are you making such a big deal out of it? They’re sisters, it’s normal for them to share.” Normal? Had he forgotten what that locket represented? I fought to keep my voice steady. “Why isn’t Lily in school?” “She didn’t want to go. What was I supposed to do?” Michael replied dismissively, then hung up. I trembled with a rage so intense it felt like fire in my veins. That man’s indulgence of our adopted daughter knew no bounds. Looking back, even before I left for my retreat, Michael had been growing more and more distant with Lily. When she was little, he’d treated her like a princess, spoiling her rotten. But two years ago, after Jessica arrived, he suddenly put Lily on a strict vegetarian diet, claiming it was for her health. Meanwhile, Jessica was feasting on steak and lobster in our own home. I’d even joked about it at the time, asking if every bite Lily didn’t eat would magically end up on Jessica’s plate. He’d called me petty, saying we could certainly afford it. Now I see it. I was so blind. I tried calling Lily again, but the line was busy. The poor girl was probably out on her delivery route. I dialed my neighbor. We were close; she would know something. When she answered, her voice was hesitant. “Amelia, thank goodness you called! It’s… well, it’s not really our place to say, but… Lily’s had a really rough couple of years.” I pressed for details, but she refused to say more. Next, I called our housekeeper, Mrs. Evans. I didn’t waste any time. “Our household expenses have tripled in the last two years. Why did Lily drop out of the prestigious university she worked so hard to get into? Why was I kept in the dark about all this? Tell me, who has all that money been spent on?” Mrs. Evans, who had always been meek and respectful, suddenly found a spine. “Miss Lily didn’t want to go to school. She said being there gave her headaches. Delivering milk makes her happy.” Happy? My daughter was a born academic. Her entire life had been about her studies. I knew better than anyone how much blood, sweat, and tears she’d poured into getting into that university. The more I thought about it, the more I was certain something was deeply wrong. I opened Michael’s Facebook page. Not long ago, he’d taken Mrs. Evans, our driver, and Jessica on an overseas vacation. And at that exact same time, my poor daughter had been rushed to the hospital and treated for severe heatstroke. The wellness center called to ask if I wanted to renew my membership. Renew it? To hell with that. I couldn’t wait another second. I had my assistant book the first flight back. I was going home. I needed to see for myself what in God’s name had happened to my family. 1 That night, the company’s executive chat was on fire. Rumors of my return were flying, with everyone speculating I was coming back to clean house. After all, I had stepped away two years ago when the company was at its peak, choosing a quiet retreat over the boardroom. For two years, I thought of my daughter every single day. I’d ignored every message from my top executives. The moment my plane touched down, I felt an urgent pull homeward. It was late when I finally arrived. Lily had just gotten home from her route. I rushed forward and took her hands in mine, my heart sinking at the touch of rough, heavy callouses that had no business being on the hands of a girl her age. She threw her arms around me, her voice trembling. “Mom, you’re back. You’re not leaving again, are you? You’ll stay home this time?” A chill went down my spine. My daughter was twenty years old, yet she sounded like a frightened child. Her entire demeanor was timid, all her former spark and energy gone. I led her into the courtyard, wanting to show her my surprise. But as we walked, she began to tremble, like a startled animal. When I pulled the cover off the limited-edition custom motorcycle, Lily’s expression remained blank. There was no flicker of excitement. I remembered how obsessed she used to be with motorcycles, so different from other girls. How could she have changed so much in just two years? A wave of sorrow washed over me. “Lily, sweetheart. Tell me what’s been happening.” Before she could answer, the gate screeched open. Jessica roared in behind the wheel of a sports car, parking with an arrogance that suggested she owned the place. Her eyes immediately locked onto the new motorcycle, and they lit up. “Mom! You’re back! And you brought me such an amazing present!” She started to swing a leg over it. I stepped in her way. “This isn’t for you. It’s for Lily.” “Oh, come on. We’re sisters. What’s yours is mine, right, Lily?” Jessica said with a saccharine smile, looking at my daughter. Lily kept her head down, silent. She quietly picked up a bucket and cloth and began to wash Jessica’s car. I stared, dumbfounded. I grabbed Lily’s hand. “What are you doing? Let the staff wash it, or send it to the dealership. Why are you doing this?” “It’s okay, Mom. I’m used to it,” Lily mumbled. In that moment of distraction, Jessica had already started the motorcycle. With a deafening roar, she sped off into the night. Watching my daughter move like a puppet on strings, my fists clenched. Before, she would have chattered away for hours, telling me everything. Now, she wouldn’t say a word about her own life. And Jessica’s entitled attitude, as if everything that belonged to Lily was hers by right—it was all completely, horribly wrong. I decided I would get to the bottom of it. That night, I went to Lily’s room to sleep with her. “Why did you drop out of university? You were so thrilled when you got in. I never imagined you would just quit. Did something happen?” I tried to keep my voice gentle. Lily clutched the blanket, turning her face away. “I just don’t like crowded places. I wanted to be alone.” Her answer made no sense. My daughter had always been a social butterfly with a hundred friends. Since when did she prefer solitude? Later that night, Jessica’s motorcycle screeched into the driveway like a wild animal, crashing into the main gate with a deafening bang. Lily shot up in bed, terrified. I quickly pulled her close, stroking her back to soothe her. She seemed hypersensitive to sound, which only deepened my confusion. I did a quick search online. Anxiety disorders. Sufferers were often easily startled by loud noises, which could trigger traumatic memories. And through all of this, my husband, Michael, had never said a single word to me. 2 That first night back, I called Michael relentlessly. Not only had he not met me at the airport, he was now completely ignoring me. His behavior was getting more outrageous by the minute. When I first walked into the house, I’d noticed that the living room walls were covered in framed photos of Jessica. There wasn’t a single picture of Lily. What was this? Had a cuckoo taken over my nest? Our family portrait was gone, too. The audacity was staggering. I remembered the day Michael first brought Jessica home two years ago. She was dressed in shabby, ill-fitting clothes, clearly from the countryside. Michael explained that he’d been in a car accident; his car had plunged into a river, and Jessica had heroically saved his life. He said she was a kind, good-hearted girl, the same age as Lily. He wanted to adopt her, bring her into our home to be a companion for Lily and to “strengthen the family.” I had been firmly against it. It wasn’t that I was ungrateful. I was happy to support Jessica financially, to provide for her in every way. But to have her move in with us, to live under our roof? It felt wrong. But Michael was insistent, claiming a “fateful connection” to Jessica. When I refused, he went on a hunger strike, accusing me of being heartless. Eventually, I gave in, figuring I could find an excuse to send her away after a while. I never imagined that in just two years, Jessica would be acting like this was her own home. In the early hours of the morning, I was woken by shouting in the courtyard. I pulled back the curtains. And there was Jessica, holding a meeting with a group of our security guards. The way she postured, you’d think she was planning a coup. My temper flared. Since when did our household security answer to her? I was going to find out what this girl was up to. I hurried downstairs. As I passed Jessica’s room, I caught a glimpse of the gifts I’d brought back from my trip—piles of them, many still in their original packaging, all stacked in her room. Before I could process that, Jessica’s voice, sharp and commanding, drifted up from downstairs. I quickened my pace. Jessica stood there, chin up, playing the part of the young mistress perfectly. “My mother is back. From now on, you all need to watch what you say. I want security tightened around the entire property. No unauthorized personnel, no gossip, and if you have any useless opinions, you can keep them to yourselves. Do you understand?” Her imperious tone, the way she commanded them—she sounded like she’d been in charge for years. You’d think she was the true head of this household. I suppressed my rage and stepped out in front of the group. “What is all this?” I asked, my voice dangerously calm. “When did Jessica become the one in charge here? Why wasn’t I informed?” The head of security, a woman who had always been my most trusted guard, visibly relaxed when she saw me. I turned my cold gaze on Jessica. “Jessica, you need to learn your place. If there is a next time, you can pack your bags and get out.” I had humiliated her in front of everyone. Her face turned a blotchy, furious red. “Mom, I… I was just excited you were back,” she stammered. “I wanted to help out…” “That’s enough,” I cut her off. “Why are Lily’s gifts in your room? And this designer outfit—where did you get it? Who bought it for you? This jacket alone costs twenty thousand dollars. Who gave you permission to spend money like that?” Jessica lowered her head, her voice shrinking. “Dad… Dad bought it for me. He said it was a reward for studying so hard.” “Take it off. Now. I’m cancelling all your credit cards. If I find you being this extravagant again, you are out of this house for good.” But instead of backing down, she snapped back at me. “You can’t tell me what to do! I’m spending my dad’s money, not yours!” 3 Her defiant entitlement was so absurd it was almost laughable. What truly infuriated me, though, was that when she raised her voice, all the guards lowered their heads. They were clearly used to being bullied by her. Just as I was about to lose it, Michael walked in. He immediately sensed the tense atmosphere. “Amelia, what are you doing? Why are you picking on a child? It’s not like we can’t afford it. What’s the big deal if Jessica buys a few nice things?” The moment Michael spoke, Jessica’s chin lifted. She shot me a look of pure, triumphant defiance. So that was it. The pretense was over. “I’ll eat what my dad provides and spend what my dad gives me. It has nothing to do with you!” she spat. “From now on, you manage your daughter, and stay out of my business!” She spun around to head upstairs. I lunged forward, grabbing her arm and yanking her back so hard she stumbled. “You don’t get to make the rules in this house! Pack your things and get out. Now!” Jessica glared at me, then turned to Michael, expecting him to intervene. But this time, he just waved a dismissive hand. “Alright, that’s enough. Just go get ready for school.” Just then, Lily came downstairs, ready to leave on her three-wheeled delivery bike. I stopped her, pulling the work vest off her. “You’re taking the day off. You’re not going. We’re going to settle this now, while everyone is here.” “Mom, if I don’t go, they’ll dock my pay. The whole week’s work will be for nothing,” Lily said, her voice filled with anxiety. One of the loyal guards quickly stepped forward, taking the bike and the delivery list from her. “Miss Lily, I’ll cover your route today. You take a rest.” I turned to my personal assistant and told her to bring every security guard from my corporate office over to the house—triple the number we had on site. Before long, the entire estate was surrounded. Not even a fly could get in or out. “No one leaves this property today without my permission.” I had my most trusted guard pull up the security footage from the house servers. The color drained from Michael’s face. “Amelia, you still don’t trust me! We agreed—no cameras in the house! You installed them behind my back!” I ignored him and had my assistant set up a large screen in the courtyard. “You can’t show that!” Jessica screamed, lunging forward to stop them. My guards immediately intercepted her. An image appeared on the screen. The very first frame sent a bolt of pure fury through me. I spun around and slapped Michael across the face. The crack echoed through the courtyard. “This is how you act like a father!”

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On my best friend’s birthday, I gave her a wishing system. She had no idea it was from me. Overjoyed, she made a wish of unparalleled cruelty. 【I wish Audrey Prescott becomes a public utility. Something for thousands of people to get in and out of, day and night!】 The good news: As the gift-giver, I could hear her silent wish. The bad news: I’m Audrey Prescott. 1 Today was Jenna’s birthday. I’d invited a few friends over to my place for a small party to celebrate. Jenna and I had been inseparable since middle school, the kind of friends who shared everything. That bond held strong through college, and we were more like sisters than anything else. For her birthday this year, I’d wired her $25,000. But I also had a special surprise just for her. A wishing system. I’d acquired it by chance after my cumulative donations to the Children’s Literacy Fund hit the ten-million-dollar mark. It was a one-time-use item, but it could grant its holder a single wish. The system had its limits, of course. It wouldn’t grant wishes that involved murder, fraud, or anything illegal or morally bankrupt. It was meant for things like winning the lottery or becoming stronger—wishes I didn’t particularly need. So, just a few moments ago, I had discreetly gifted the system to my best friend. 【Congratulations, Host. You have successfully bound to the Wishing System.】 【This system will grant you one wish.】 【Please make your wish.】 The system was now linked to her. Jenna looked completely bewildered, her eyes wide with the kind of panic you see in someone who thinks they’ve just seen a ghost. “What the hell was that!” I turned away, pretending to scroll through my phone, hiding a smile behind my hand. I’d had the exact same reaction when the system first bound to me. But I knew that in a moment, her confusion would turn to absolute ecstasy. Sure enough, a few minutes later, after the system had explained its function, a visible wave of excitement washed over her. Because I was the previous owner, I had the option to listen in on the current holder’s thoughts and the system’s responses. This feature would expire once the wish was granted. 【Can you really grant any wish I make?】Jenna thought, her mind racing. 【Yes!】 【Then I wish…】 【To make a wish, you must clasp your hands, close your eyes, and remain silent. Otherwise, the wish will be invalid.】 The ritual was specific and couldn’t be altered. If she was interrupted or broke the pose, the wish would be voided. But as she looked at me, something in her eyes felt strange. It wasn’t joy. It was closer to gloating. A flicker of discomfort went through me, but I pushed it down. I slid the birthday cake closer to her. “Make a wish, birthday girl!” The lights in the living room dimmed on cue. Jenna closed her eyes, her hands clasped tightly together. I watched the corners of her lips tremble, trying to suppress a smile. I found myself getting excited, wondering what she would choose. She’d talked endlessly about wanting plastic surgery, about becoming a famous actress and making a fortune. I knew she struggled with her appearance and craved wealth. I assumed she’d be torn between wishing for a huge lottery win or a complete physical transformation. But instead, surrounded by her friends, she spoke to the system with a chilling piety. 【I wish for Audrey Prescott to be utterly ruined! I wish her family’s company goes bankrupt! I wish she gets a terminal illness! I wish she would just drop dead right now!】 2 For a second after she made her wish, I thought I was hallucinating. What did she just wish for? Who did she want ruined? Whose company bankrupt? Who terminally ill? Who did she want to drop dead? Me? I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. It wasn’t until the system responded to Jenna that the reality crashed down on me. 【Host, you have one and only one wish. The current request contains too many wishes. Please make a new wish.】 Jenna was visibly disappointed. 【What? Why only one? It’s so hard to choose! Fine… then just have Audrey Prescott be ruined!】 【I wish for her to be gang-banged!】 What! Did she have any idea what she was saying? Confirming her wish a second time, I felt like I’d been struck by lightning. I just stood there, frozen. Had she been possessed? This was Jenna—my Jenna. We were sisters. We told each other everything. Why would she do this to me? A slideshow of our life together flashed through my mind, every shared laugh and secret now feeling like a lie. Looking at the slight, triumphant curve of her lips, a deep chill spread from my core. She looked exactly the same as she always did. Had she always been like this? A two-faced monster? All smiles and friendship to my face while secretly wishing for my death? The betrayal from the person I trusted most in the world sent a surge of pure, unthinking rage through me. I was about to raise my hand, to shove her and break the ritual— Then I heard the system’s voice again. 【Wish rejected. Prohibited keywords detected.】 Jenna fumed internally. 【What? You’re a wishing system! What do you care about prohibited words?】 Hearing the system reject her wish, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. Thank God for the restrictions. It wasn’t some lawless genie that would grant any twisted desire. But the relief was short-lived. My heart, which had just settled, leaped back into my throat with her next wish. 【Make Audrey Prescott be forced to have sex with multiple men!】 【Detecting 325,478 individuals named Audrey Prescott. Please specify the target.】 【I wish for my best friend, Audrey Prescott, to be forced to have sex with multiple men!】 【Wish rejected. The request displays illegal and criminal intent.】 Jenna! Her eyes were squeezed shut, her brow furrowed, a desperate and distorted smile playing on her lips. I stared at her, my anger boiling. What had I ever done to deserve this level of hatred? I searched my memory, my conscience, and came up with nothing. I had never, ever wronged her. How could she be so vile? And she still had the nerve to call herself my best friend. After being rejected repeatedly, Jenna was getting agitated. And she wasn’t the only one. Our friends were getting restless. “Jenna, it’s been like ten minutes. What kind of wish takes this long?” “Come on, Jenna… it’s just a birthday wish, a tradition. Don’t take it so seriously.” The expressions of our friends shifted from patient amusement to annoyance. Two of the girls who had been standing beside her gave up, rolling their eyes as they walked away from the cake and back toward the media room to sing karaoke. The others waited a little longer, but when Jenna still didn’t move, they exchanged bewildered looks and started to snicker. Jenna heard their laughter. It made her even more anxious and angry. But she couldn’t open her eyes, or the chance would be gone. She kept her face serene, but inside, she was roaring. See! They’re all laughing at me! This is all your fault! You can’t do this, you can’t do that! What kind of useless system are you? The system, however, was indifferent to her tantrum. It replied with its monotonous, mechanical voice. 【Please make a new wish.】 3 Jenna was running out of options. She gave up on the overtly illegal wishes, abandoning her obsession with me being assaulted or violated. But her next attempts weren’t much better. 【I wish for my best friend, Audrey Prescott, to have a promiscuous sex life and contract HIV.】 【Wish rejected. Request violates public order and morality.】 【I wish for my best friend, Audrey Prescott, to fall in love with her own father and have his child!】 【Wish rejected. Request violates ethical and moral principles.】 【I wish for my best friend, Audrey Prescott, to fall from a building and become a quadriplegic!】 【Wish rejected. Request contains uncontrollable variables.】 … I could only laugh. A cold, hollow sound. Each wish was a masterclass in malice, completely rewriting my definition of the word “vicious.” Jenna was truly something else. I never knew she hated me this much. The sheer effort she was putting into crafting my downfall, twisting her own mind into such a dark place—it was almost impressive. Honestly, you’d think I had murdered her entire family. And through it all, she still considered herself my “best friend.” The candles on the cake had burned down completely, leaving waxy, red lumps pooled on the frosting like bloody droppings. It was disgusting. Jenna had been “wishing” for over half an hour now. She just stood there, ignoring everyone. When people tried to talk to her, she’d just shake her head, her brow furrowed, refusing to open her eyes. Her bizarre behavior made everyone uncomfortable, and one by one, they started making their excuses and leaving. As the host, I was the only one left, forced to listen to her dark, venomous fantasies. Now that I knew her true colors, there was no way I was going to let her succeed. The system was a gift and I couldn’t take it back, but I could still disrupt the ritual and make her lose her chance. Just as I moved to do it, the system made a sudden announcement. 【Host’s morality is judged to be corrupt. Wishing eligibility is being revoked.】 Jenna’s strange smile twisted into a mask of pure rage. 【You’re playing me!】 Ha! I never saw that coming. A small laugh escaped me, and I sank back onto the sofa, my hand dropping to my side. 【System unbinding in: 5】 【What? Unbinding? You lying piece of junk! You can’t grant a single wish, and now you want to unbind? You’re useless!】 【System unbinding in: 4】 【I’m sorry! Wait! Wait! I take it back, don’t unbind!】 【System unbinding in: 3】 【Let me try one more time! I won’t wish for that stuff! I’ll phrase it differently!】 【System unbinding in: 2】 【I wish for my best friend, Audrey Prescott, to become a public utility! Something for thousands of people to get in and out of, day and night!】 Heh. She just wouldn’t quit. After all those failed attempts, did she really think a simple change in phrasing would work? Did she take the system for an idiot? 【System unbinding… Wish detected. Request meets criteria. Wish will be granted.】 【Granting wish. Please stand by…】 What! How could it grant a wish that was so obviously corrupt? I had trusted the system, trusted its filters, but somehow Jenna’s wish had slipped through. “No!” I lunged forward, reaching out to push her over, to do anything to stop this. But in the next second, a violent, tearing pain exploded through my body. It was unbearable. I collapsed to the floor, screaming, my entire body convulsing. It felt like something was ripping me apart from the inside, forcing its way into every cell. The pain was too much. I blacked out. And just before I lost consciousness completely, I saw Jenna finally open her eyes. A slow, triumphant smile spread across her face. 【Congratulations, Host. Your wish is being granted…】

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My parents were murdered and dismembered in our home, and the family company was collapsing. I begged my fiancée Ginger for help, but she married a man named Finn in a lavish “wedding of the century.” At my lowest point, Ginger’s sister Eleanor—a police captain—proposed to me at my parents’ funeral. She vowed to find the truth and be my support. I said yes. The case eventually went cold and was closed. Grieving, I let Eleanor handle everything: my parents’ affairs, my debts. She brought me into her home. Five years into our marriage, I overheard her talking to a colleague: “Eleanor, there was only one real suspect in the Grant case: Finn. Why did you bury it? How can you live with yourself, letting Caleb stay under the same roof as his parents’ killer?” “Finn is innocent,” Eleanor insisted. “He was just in the wrong place. I believe him.” Then she added, “I may have betrayed my badge, but I’ve been true to my heart. Even if he didn’t choose me, I’ll make sure he’s happy.” The gift I held for her burned in my hands. My parents’ killer had been beside me all along, and the woman I loved had protected him for five years. This marriage was built on a lie—and it was over. 1 Through the door, I could hear Eleanor gazing at a photograph on the wall, her voice thick with the sorrow of unrequited love. “Since Finn didn’t choose me, the only thing I can do is clear the path for him, remove every obstacle. As for Caleb… I’ll keep a close eye on him. He’ll never find out the truth.” Her colleague sounded disappointed, almost pleading. “You’ve been on the force for eight years, your commendations could fill a wall. Why throw it all away for Finn? He doesn’t love you! And his presence at the Grant house that night was no coincidence!” “If this ever comes out, you’ll lose your job, your reputation, everything. You could even go to prison. Are you insane?” Eleanor let out a soft, dismissive laugh. “Insane? Maybe. Love doesn’t follow logic. The case is closed. Don’t bring it up again.” “And what about Caleb? You brought him here, made him face his parents’ killer every single day. Have you ever thought about him? He loves you so much, and you—” Eleanor’s voice turned to ice. “That’s enough. I said, Finn is not the murderer.” A pause. Then, quieter. “If someone has to pay for this, then I’ll give him my life.” “I just don’t get you… You have motive, you have evidence… Fine. If you think this is right, then so be it.” Footsteps were approaching. I scrambled back to my room, a fugitive in my own home. The images from five years ago flooded my mind—the blood, the horror. The company’s collapse that followed. Eleanor had been my salvation, pulling me from the wreckage, paying off every debt, welcoming me into her life. I thought I had found true love, drowning myself in a bliss I never thought possible. But it was all a meticulously crafted lie. She hadn’t brought me into her home out of love; she’d brought me here to keep me under her thumb. To monitor me. To protect Finn. Our marriage, these five years of affection, were nothing but compensation born from her guilt. And I, like a fool, had paraded my gilded cage to the world, showing off the scraps of her pity as if they were treasures. The irony was a blade in my gut. The front door clicked shut; her colleague was gone. Moments later, Eleanor stumbled into our room, a little unsteady from drink. She cupped my face, her eyes, hazy with alcohol, full of a familiar tenderness as she kissed my forehead. “Why are you standing by the door?” “It’s nothing,” I lied. “I was going to get you some water, but I spilled it.” “Let the housekeeper handle that. You’ve been so tired lately. You need to rest. It breaks my heart to see you like this.” She leaned in and kissed my lips, her touch as gentle and loving as it had always been. But this time, I felt no warmth. Only a profound, chilling cold. To think a person could go to such lengths for someone else. As I closed my eyes, a single tear escaped and traced a path down my cheek. I helped her to the bed and tucked her in. She was asleep in minutes. Sitting beside her, I reached for her phone. The password was Finn’s birthday. Typing it in unlocked a secondary, hidden system on her device. The desktop was clean, except for a single, overflowing photo album. She had photographed the entire case file of my parents’ murder. A thousand images. And on every page, one name appeared again and again: Finn. From his motive to the evidence against him. There was even a still from a security camera video showing him at the gate of our villa that night. It was all there. But the final page was stamped with a single conclusion: UNSOLVED. She had taken the physical file home, afraid her colleagues would grow suspicious, leaving only this digital copy for herself. A secret she alone could see. Her bias, her protection, laid bare. The sight was a punch to the stomach, leaving me breathless with a sour, burning pain. Eleanor had always been a principled, decisive detective. It was one of the things I’d fallen in love with. I never imagined she would cast aside every principle for him. There was another folder, a private, locked album. I clicked on it. It was filled with pictures of Finn. Ten thousand photos documenting his life over the past five years, after he had married her sister, Ginger. Every public appearance, every family gathering—Eleanor had saved them all. And in every single group family photo, my face had been neatly cropped out. The implication was brutally clear. A bitter laugh escaped my lips. I couldn’t look anymore. I took pictures of everything with my own phone. Then, I booked a flight out of the country, for three days from now. And I began the process of canceling my identity, every official document, every tie to this life. I didn’t sleep. At dawn, as I was in the bathroom, my phone buzzed with an official notification. Eleanor’s voice, laced with confusion, came from the bedroom. “Caleb? Why are you canceling your ID?” I hurried back, taking the phone from her hand, my voice even. “It’s nothing. It’s about to expire, so I scheduled an appointment to get it renewed.” I changed the subject. “Don’t you have training today? You should get going.” She didn’t press, just wrapped her arms around me, nuzzling against my neck. “Honey, are you planning a surprise for me?” I froze. She reached up and playfully tapped my nose. “I saw the new necklace you bought. You can’t hide anything from me, you know. I can read you like an open book.” She grew serious, her voice soft. “It’s almost the anniversary of your parents’ death. We should visit their graves, tell them we’re married. We could have a family dinner, too. Ginger hasn’t been home in a while.” I managed a weak smile, saying nothing. She hugged me tighter, spinning me around in a circle, excited. For five years, she had constantly tried to mend the rift between me and her sister. I’d always thought it was a sign of her love for me. Now I saw it for what it was. A calculated move. An excuse to see Finn. This five-year charade had to end. The moment she left for work, I left the house. I went to a lawyer and had a divorce agreement drawn up. I finalized the cancellation of my identity. With the original case file hidden by Eleanor, going to the police now would be useless. Leaving was my only option. When I went to her precinct to drop off the papers, I overheard some of her colleagues talking. “Is that Captain Hayes’s husband? He looks familiar… Oh, right! The Grant family massacre five years ago!” “Do you want to get assigned extra drills? Shut up. The Captain said he’s not the killer. Don’t start rumors, she’ll lose it if she hears you. She’s fought with the Chief over this case more times than I can count.” “Look at him, though. Dressed head to toe in designer clothes, probably worth a fortune. I heard he just got back from overseas. A guy that rich wouldn’t need to kill someone, right? And the way the Captain looks at him… she’d have arrested him herself if he was the one.” My nails dug into my palms. I stood outside her office, frozen by the familiar voices inside. “Has she been good to you these past few years?” It was Finn. “You know your own sister,” Eleanor’s voice was laced with a bittersweet ache. “When she heard I was coming back, she insisted on buying me a private jet. She’s just like that… married for five years and still acts like a child…” Eleanor’s voice was heavy with a sorrow she tried to suppress. “That’s good. Then I can rest easy.” “Sister,” Finn said, his tone smooth as silk, “I have to thank you for what you did back then. If it weren’t for you, I’d probably be rotting in prison right now.” He sighed dramatically. “I probably shouldn’t come to the family dinner tomorrow night. It’ll just upset Caleb. Every time he sees me, he’s reminded of his parents. I don’t want him to cause a scene…” Classic Finn. He had gotten everything he wanted, and still, he couldn’t resist taking a passive-aggressive jab at me. I remembered sneaking a look at the case file years ago. I knew he was the only suspect. At Ginger’s wedding, I had publicly accused him, tried to have him taken into custody. But everyone, my own fiancée included, had turned on me, calling me a disgrace. Only Eleanor had stepped in to defend me. She had been my only salvation. And now, she was the one who had cast me into the abyss. Inside the office, Eleanor forced a smile and pulled a small ceramic sculpture from her drawer. “I made this myself. It’s not as fancy as what you can buy in a store, but it’s from the heart. I heard Ginger is pregnant. Think of it as a gift for the baby.” Finn accepted it with a triumphant grin. My hand trembled, rattling the door slightly. Eleanor glanced up and saw me through the glass partition, her expression instantly tightening. “Caleb? What are you doing here?” She rushed to the door. “Don’t misunderstand. Finn just got back in the country and came to say hello. We were just talking about the dinner tomorrow.” “Caleb, long time no see,” Finn said, rising from his chair. He was dressed in the latest bespoke suit, making me feel like a beggar off the street. I forced a nod, swallowing the bitterness. “It’s fine. I was just passing by. If you’re busy, I’ll head home.” Thinking I was angry, Eleanor followed me out, explaining all the way to the car. “Caleb, don’t overthink it. Ginger’s pregnant, and I was just asking him for some advice so we can start trying.” She looked at me, her eyes pleading. “You’ve always wanted a child of our own, haven’t you? I’m ready now.” Looking at her feigned concern, I almost laughed. She would violate her oath to protect Finn, even sacrifice her own marriage. Now that she had what she wanted, who was this performance for? “Don’t worry,” I said, my voice hollow. “The past is the past. You said it yourself, it was all a misunderstanding. I’m not that petty. You two catch up. I’ll wait for you at home.” She breathed a sigh of relief and personally walked me to my car. As I drove away, I saw the looks of pity from her colleagues. I ignored them, pulling over to make final edits to the divorce agreement on my phone. Back at the house, I gathered everything Eleanor had ever given me over the past five years and set it all on fire in the hearth. As the last flame died, the doorbell rang. It was a delivery. The package was purchased by Eleanor, but the recipient was Finn. I signed for it. Inside, it was filled with high-end baby products. A moment later, a text from Eleanor arrived. “Caleb, I had some office supplies accidentally delivered to the house. Don’t open it, I’ll pick it up when I get home.” I sent back a simple emoji and resealed the box. I was already leaving. I had no energy left to unravel her clumsy lies. That night, Eleanor called to say she was working late on a case. A few hours later, Finn posted on his feed for the first time in ages. His location was tagged at a luxury downtown hotel. In the photo, a woman’s police uniform epaulet was clearly visible on a chair. On the table, her hand, with the ring removed, showed a pale, untanned mark on her finger. In the reflection of a wine glass, a woman was smiling beautifully, a man gazing at her with adoration. I gave the post a ‘like,’ just as he wanted. Then I packed my bags. The next afternoon, Eleanor texted, telling me to meet at her parents’ estate. When I arrived empty-handed, my in-laws’ faces immediately soured. “Eleanor is working herself to the bone, and you can’t even be bothered to bring a small gift for us? Who are you trying to intimidate with that long face?” A nearby relative chimed in. “It’s been five years. Do you still think you’re the golden boy of the Grant family? Wake up! The Grant empire is dust! If Eleanor hadn’t used her life savings to pay off your debts, you’d be selling yourself on the street right now!” “We’re your wife’s parents. With your own gone, we’re the only parents you have. Have you no manners? People will think our Eleanor was desperate to marry you!” Just then, Finn appeared at the door, his arms laden with expensive health supplements. My in-laws’ faces lit up, and they rushed to greet him. “Finn, you’re here! The flight must have been exhausting. Your brother-in-law will cook later, you just go upstairs and rest.” “You always bring so much! We’re old, we don’t need any of this. You and Ginger should save your money.” “See? Finn is so thoughtful. Not like some people who show up looking like we owe them money. His parents have been dead for five years and he still can’t let it go. Such bad luck.” Despite her words, my mother-in-law eagerly took the gifts. Finn, beaming, linked his arm with hers. “Mom, don’t say that. The Grant case is still unsolved after five years, it’s only natural for Caleb to be upset. He’s been through enough, let’s not rub salt in the wound. We’re all family now.” He winked. “Besides, Ginger is pregnant, and I hear Eleanor is trying, too! It’s a double blessing for our family today! So please, don’t make my brother-in-law cook. You know how sister gets when she comes home and finds him in the kitchen.” At the mention of Eleanor, my mother-in-law’s smile faltered. “A daughter married is a daughter lost! And here I am, worrying about her day and night.” If this were the past, I would have believed Eleanor stayed away to protect me from her family. But knowing the truth, I felt nothing. She didn’t want to come home because she didn’t want to face Finn as his sister-in-law. She didn’t want me to bring up the murder and make him uncomfortable. The crowd of relatives fawned over Finn, praising how well he looked. I was left forgotten by the door, a cold wind whipping around me. Just then, a pair of arms wrapped around me from behind. It was Eleanor, finally arrived. She gently tapped my nose. “Why are you standing out here? Did Mom and Dad give you a hard time again?” Seeing her daughter, my mother-in-law’s tone softened. “How would I dare scold the great Grant heir? He’s far too precious. You’d better get him upstairs to rest.” Finn stepped in, playing the peacemaker. “Mom, I’ve already ordered catering from the hotel. It’ll be here soon. You should rest, too. Don’t stress over these things.” The relatives immediately started praising Finn again, and I was once again forgotten. Eleanor guided me to a guest room to rest, then went back to explain to her mother that I was feeling unwell. The family’s chatter and laughter drifted through the closed door, the sound suffocating me. I decided to step out for some air, but Finn was suddenly standing in front of me, a smug smirk on his face as he looked at my pale complexion. “Old classmate. Long time no see. What’s wrong? You don’t recognize me after five years?” His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “You know, I should really thank you. If you hadn’t brought me home that night, I never would have found my real enemy.” My fists clenched. “Enemy? What are you talking about? What did my parents ever do to you? Why did you have to murder them, to… to cut them into pieces?” He dropped the act, his eyes turning vicious. “What did they do to me? You should ask what they didn’t do! Because of them, my father’s company went bankrupt! He was driven to jump off a building! Your family destroyed mine, and now you can’t handle a little payback?” He leaned closer, his voice a venomous hiss. “How does it feel? Seeing your parents’ killer standing right in front of you, living his best life, while you can do nothing? You know, I have to thank your fiancée and your wife. Without them, I wouldn’t be where I am today.” He grinned. “Your father was crying for you before he died. I even recorded a little video of him begging. Want to see it? Get on your knees and ask me nicely.” The image of my parents’ mangled bodies flashed before my eyes. A red rage blinded me. I swung, my fist connecting hard with his jaw. He grunted, but instead of anger, he smiled. He let my momentum carry him, collapsing dramatically to the floor. Before I could react, Eleanor was there. She kicked me squarely in the chest, the force of a trained officer sending me sprawling. She rushed to Finn, cradling him in her arms, her eyes blazing with fury as she looked at me. “Caleb, what are you doing? Are you insane? Finn came up here to call you for dinner, and you attack him?” The family rushed in, their glares like daggers. Finn, clinging weakly to her shoulder, sobbed. “Ellie, I’m so sorry. I was just trying to apologize to Caleb for the misunderstanding five years ago, I didn’t think he would just… attack me.” He sniffled. “It’s okay. Ginger broke off the engagement, we wronged him first. Let’s just call it even. Please don’t be mad at Caleb.” A sharp pain shot through my chest. A broken rib. Cold sweat beaded on my forehead. “Misunderstanding? How dare you call it a misunderstanding?” I looked past him, at my wife. “Eleanor, what really happened five years ago? Don’t you think you owe me an explanation?” A flicker of panic crossed her face, but she held her ground. “I am still investigating that case. I told you it has nothing to do with Finn. Why do you insist on blaming him? I am a police officer. Don’t you trust me?” Her voice hardened. “You had no right to lay a hand on him. Caleb, apologize to Finn. Now.” My mother-in-law stormed forward and slapped me across the face. “You lunatic! Still trying to frame Finn! Everyone knows how good my daughter is at her job! If she says he’s innocent, he’s innocent!” Her voice dripped with contempt. “You’re just an orphan whose parents are dead. Who do you think you are? If my daughter hadn’t saved you, you’d be selling your body in some hotel to pay off your debts! Your parents were crooks, and they got what they deserved!” She turned to Eleanor. “Ellie, forget him. Let’s get Finn to the hospital.” Eleanor didn’t give me a second glance. She helped Finn up and left. Five years of my life, gone, in a single moment. Blood trickled from the corner of my mouth. That night, my in-laws threw me out of the house. A passerby found me and took me to the emergency room. A broken rib, just a centimeter from my heart. Late that night, I got a text from Eleanor. It was full of placating words. “Caleb, don’t overthink what happened tonight. I know you didn’t mean it. Finn is my brother-in-law, I have to answer to Ginger. How about this, once he’s stable, I’ll take you to your favorite restaurant to apologize? Please don’t be angry. My parents were just upset, they didn’t mean what they said.” So, she remembered she had a husband. A bitter, ironic smile touched my lips. “Okay. I’ll wait for you.” “Thank you for understanding, honey.” That same night, Finn posted a photo from his hospital bed. In it, a woman was asleep in the chair beside him, her face etched with worry even in her dreams. The next morning, I checked myself out of the hospital. I took my luggage and went straight to the airport. On the way, Eleanor sent me the location of the restaurant. “Honey, I have a surprise for you. I’ll be home to pick you up soon. Wait for me, okay?” I opened Finn’s social media feed. He had posted a video two minutes earlier. In it, Eleanor was carefully feeding him spoonfuls of porridge, her eyes filled with a tenderness I had never seen before. I quietly liked the video, then deleted their numbers and blocked them. As I boarded the plane, I sent an anonymous, formal complaint to the chief of police, attaching all the photos of the case file I had taken from Eleanor’s phone. I mailed the signed divorce agreement to her office. At the restaurant, Eleanor was busy directing her colleagues, helping them set up for her surprise. Rose petals covered the floor. She kept checking her phone, a knot of anxiety tightening in her stomach as my messages went unanswered. She was about to call me when a uniformed officer rushed in, his face pale. “Captain Hayes, it’s bad! You need to get back to the precinct, now! Someone filed an official complaint about the Grant case, and the Chief is looking for you everywhere! And… and there’s been an incident with Mr. Grant!”

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